From the city, Good morning all:

“Whether you think that you can, or that you can’t, you are usually right.” — Henry Ford

A week’s worth of rain—sometimes pounding rain. Dire floodwatches that were finally lifted. Sunshine in today’s forecast. This morning, with lifted spirits, I am enjoying my morning coffee.

Earlier this week I was asked to babysit Vaioleti for a couple of hours. Really, prior to that time, I had always been around her in the company of other adults. Running ‘solo’ is a whole different beast. At 13 months of age and on the verge of walking she is amazingly fast in the crawling department. The other little trick is that anything in range only takes 1/100th of a second to find its way to her mouth. The most excellent version of the sternly said “NO” word brings on the best toothy (5) smile possible. She sure is a happy and content little thing.

The best part though is really in two parts. She is stunningly adept in the snuggling department. And secondly, I was flabbergasted at how comfortable she is playing on her own. At one point she had scooted behind the couch and out of the field of vision. I did hear her jabbering happily away (loudly). This all prompted a quick peek; there she sat contentedly “reading” one of her little books. I believe it was the one with the cut-out holes which make it easier to holdchew and read about the animals pictured on each page.

Leaving got me her best goodbye wave (which is also her ‘hello’ wave). I did note that some of that drained feeling had crept into these old bones.

Last Sunday was the Hyde Park Art Fair. The weather could not have been any better. There were more artists displaying than ever before. We drove the “Duck”. And I am now banished from attending any future fairs.

This makes being banished from both auctions and art fairs.

It is not that I argue with people; ridicule the artist’s offerings; or go about making odd bodily noises. It just relates to the perceived speed of my pace—way too fast. In part it’s a male thing. I get through these events in the same way as I go through The Home Depot—enjoyable, yet with a purpose. Marcia on the other hand treats this outdoor affair similarly to entering the sacred space of a potpourri store—she needs to drink in each and every scent, sight and smell.

What I am really saying is that I actually am fine with art fairs. It is just that realizing that I am passing the gazillionth stand artfully displaying their version of blown or fused glass, that then there is no need to slow down. Especially when I know full well that there are probably thirty or so more fused glass stands yet to be discovered.

Brother Pieter would tell me it’s a “right brain” versus “left brain” thing. Using Americas newly crowned most favorite word—whatever.

I did learn a new and better way to secure the tarps on the pontoon boat for its winter storage needs. This was discovered while wandering in and about the stands while Marcia was inside studying every display. Rather than hanging odd-looking 2.5 gallon jugs filled with water to act as weights, some 4” PCV pipe, capped, and filled with sand makes it much easier to store during the summer and cleaner looking during the winter. See Marcia, aren’t you proud just how observant I am? I really wouldn’t miss fairs for the world; I’ll even spend some time looking for that bigger apple shaped gourd or something.

Make it a great week. No matter what I have just said, do stop and smell the roses.

Cheers,

Dirk