Mellow Sunday

And it is that … Jason and I are puttering about the house, mostly Jason, who is more able to do things right now. If you remember, last weekend we had to turn the kitchen and bathrooms inside out for cockroach cleaning, of which we had none, and should have none, EVER. But this has turned out to be a somewhat productive cleaning and vetting process, pain in the butt that it has been, is still, as we are not nearly done putting things back in place.

Jason has used the opportunity to make a marvelous Mexican baked pasta dish for us for the week, which smelled amazing last night when it was cooking, and today, of which we just ate, he made yummy Italian pasta — all of which came from the freezer and pantry items we already had. Savings! For we scrimp and save to pay for the catering for aforementioned Early Paintings Art Reception. I hope to sell a painting to cover the cost, at least. The one painting I thought I had sold, has fallen through, for now, at least until January, but is a definite maybe for then. We shall see. The economy for art is wierd. I don’t mind except the money would be helpful right now.

So what in the world am I doing right now? I am not doing yoga, or painting. Of that we can be sure. I have written a smidge on the chapter outline and thought about it a great deal. I found a funeral service, a green burial service, mind you, in Takoma Park, which I emailed on Friday for collaboration purposes, for the novel. I hope to hear from them very soon, for that will make a humongous difference in the beginning of the novel. Why I start my novels off so darkly, I do not know. But I do. The shoe drops, people deal, and then things get brighter. Down, then up!

I did laundry, a huge undertaking with my arm. A light colored load a few days ago, and just now, a dark. Woo!

I created a new Powerpoint outline of the hanging of the Early Paintings Show, with sizes and prices, to share with the gallery director at Modern Times Coffeehouse, which he likes. Yay! That is huge. Hard on the arm, as well. But that saves us an enormo amount of time in packing, and hanging, as well as organizing my price list, up front. Next, I will create the price list, with little thumbnails, one in color to be laminated, and one for black and white copies to hand out that night. I am so excited.

I’ve gone back and forth on the music for that night: a classic jazz playlist? or just set Orchestra Baobab to shuffle? the latter I decided finally. Again, and again. It is awesome, rather they are. Perfect. That is what I had for my Open House. Done.

Yesterday, for the first time in many many months, a season perhaps, we went for a walk at Monocacy Aqueduct. I missed you, I called out to the River. I limited myself to declaring, It smells so good, to only twice. I couldn’t look up, for fear of falling, due to the enormous amounts of black walnuts and acorns and stuff. Ugg clogs were perhaps not the right choice, but choose them I did. Short sleeves yesterday.

Today it’s a tissue turtleneck and all in gray, the first sweater day of the season, a real wool one, and pinned with a silver filigree pin. Chipper smelled the sweater. Do you like Autumn, Chipper? I ask him, too much, perhaps, as he sniffs the air, snuffles the decaying leaves.

I love all the seasons, but I love being born in Autumn.

My arm is somewhat less red and tender today, somewhat easier for Jason to touch, we noticed when I brought it to him to love on. Somewhat less swollen, and instead of off the charts, only an 8 in pain level. Still, Jason said I could make an appointment for Wednesday with the specialist. So grateful. Find out what is going on, what I did, make sure we’re doing the right things. When I can paint again. He will be on speakerphone, which also makes me happy.

Last night was my high school’s 30th year reunion, and I couldn’t sleep. I stayed up, listening to Arcade Fire and such on the IPod, sending them silly messages of love and cheers and hugs in response to their posts on Facebook. Still, I wanted them to know I wanted to be, but couldn’t, be there. Maybe in three years I can be. We shall see. I’m glad to see their faces and to reach out to them any way I can.

So now to rest. See I can type fairly well. It’s other motor skills of moving and twisting, lifting and such that are very difficult. We shall see what the doctor says in a few days.

So excited about the events this month. Fun! Thanks for listening. đŸ™‚

About amyjacksoncc

I am a professional artist, writer and musician creating from my home studio. To view my artwork, visit
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