Isn't it great to be outside? Even just a little. on the few warm days that are peppered between the cold rainy ones? The backyard outdoor "studio" is set up and outdoor time is possible. The doggies run to the porch door with excitement to be let out to play in their pen. the cat does too, and tries to squeak out with the dogs, but I'm on to him. Not that again, Theo. When he was young (4 or 5) and still going outside he disappeared for about 8 weeks only to be found starving in a neighbor's locked barn. No Theo, you are staying in by the open window. Sorry pal!

I posted some art classes for kids this summer and have no idea what to expect. Threw a lot of ideas out there and will see what happens. I like to keep busy and remember the long hot days of summer when I was a kid and how much fun it was to have an art class. Washington Park had "Art in the Park" and there was always Jones's uptown, bless them. How they put up with a little kid coming in to buy penny pom poms, chenille puffs, and little glass stones is beyond me. 

Am gradually emerging from the uncreative stupor state that has haunted me since this pandemic began. Granted the health situation is still a daily challenge, but I am forcing contact with my art space and confronting my lack of effort head on, and it seems to be working. The ideas never stop coming and the sketchbooks are full...it is just having the energy and focus to bring something to fruition that is the challenge. Still need to complete the final module of the C&G (UK) class -- am not giving up on that goal. 

My hands have joined in the arthritis party, symmetrically, and if I don't start using them more I fear the worst. Though I was told that didn't really matter, I am trying to use it as motivation. The Feet have really become miserable with rounded bony protrusions sticking out where my arches used to be, and toes doing all sorts of unnatural throbby things. The pain medication I am on now doesn't do half of what the previous one did, so it is a daily challenge to stay distracted. The trouble with pain is that the more you feel of it, and the longer you feel it, the more fatigued you get, and it is hard to stay distracted by doing something when you are exhausted. Add to it the fatigue from the RA itself, and, well, Dunkies knows to expect me after school every day.  

Grateful to have my little pups to cheer me along each day. They are magic. Each has such a strong personality and we have our routines, and I can't imagine life without them. Ellie da Pug is plodding along, stubborn as her namesake, surprising me every day with some gesture or movement. Because of the pain I often don't feel like walking these guys but then I look at Teddie's little determined eyes, and see Finny's dance of excitement, and off we go. I realize I have never felt worse when home from a little walk than I did before. If anything, I feel a little better because of the fresh air and cuteness at the end of the leashes.  "Stay active and avoid rest" was the pain doc's last note -- as if I am laying around on a divan all day in front of a tv running soaps. He really doesn't know me. But, what do you expect after two 10 minute appointments? And this is who controls my pain, my life. Yikes. 

Am thrilled to have discovered some really great brain food lately in the form of Jordan Peterson's writing and lectures. He is given a bad wrap of being very far right, but really isn't. I love the way he tells stories and weaves in comparative religion, fairy tales, and mythology. Am reading 12 Rules for Life right now and know as soon as I finish, I will be re-reading it again. LOADED with gems. Highly recommended and insightful. Found out that his daughter suffered juvenile RA with joint replacements while very young, and in the past two years he has been experiencing severe health issues, too. Am wondering what gems of writing will come out of this period in his life.  It is always refreshing to learn new coping skills as I outgrow the ones I thought were working. 

​Onward. 

Ah, spring! Just like that, crocuses popped up and the air is filled with birdsong. And a lot of pollen, or something, that is making many people I know run around feeling like they *might* have Covid. Myself included! Had an unexpected sneeze in the produce section of Market Basket the other day and the stares were unbelievable. Shouted "Allergies!" but I think onlookers were not comforted.

Is it clay dust accumulating in my mask? Is it pollen? Is it part of a reaction from a recent medicine change? Is it part of the RA/inflammation process? At least we are being pool tested at school now so that Covid is mostly off the list. While I got the vaccine earlier this month I am not sure I will even mount an antibody response because of meds I have to take. We shall see. Something is better than nothing, I hope. 

Spring means setting up the outdoor art room again and watching flowers bloom. Can hardly wait for that last part. Zinnias and roses, maybe some daisies, but definitely zinnias. At the first whiff of nice weather I felt compelled to order seeds off Amazon, and then found that several of my neighbors did the same! I ordered the giants with 5" blooms. I love the bright colors and large blossoms of the zinnias, and how they seem to bloom forever into the cold fall. Such cheerful, bright, and intensely colored little marvels.  Last time I started zinnias in the house Cairo ate them all in one go, though, so will have to parrot proof the Aerogarden.  Modern problems. 

If I can find the Aerogarden, that is. The table that it usually sits on is a mountain of stuff remaining from raising the puppies. Clothing that no longer fits, food they won't eat anymore, bags of treats and rawhide ordered in advance, toys, all mixed in with "good" recyclable junk I have saved for my art classes. It is a mess. Time to tackle it and restore order. Same goes for the entire room, really, and the porch. And, and and. It is so hard to keep up when I don't feel well. Things that seem possible and do able when I have a "good pain day" become insurmountable and forcibly ignored most of the time.

Past few weeks have been exceptionally difficult as I was forced to change medications and it was not a smooth transition. Pain levels are off the charts, which is leading to more exhaustion. I am grateful that through all this I've had my little pups to distract me and keep me going with their antics. They are growing up so quickly it is a little scary. Teddie will be two this summer. Two! How did that happen? I can imagine how fast it must seem for parents of human babies.

As I write this Teddie is curled up on my lap, all warm and cozy. I lift her little head and kiss her nose and tell her she is the best little fluffy girl ever. Because she is. Tessa is precious too and I love her to bits, but Teds is different. She is an "old soul dog" that has a calm and perceptive energy.  Never really does anything wrong (ok, so she likes the wild escape and run down Temple Street every now and then) and just has a lovely, selfless spirit.  She always tries to take care of the other pets and her siblings when they play, and is the first to nestle into my pillow and put her head on my shoulder at night. Sometimes angels come in the forms of dogs, and I truly think she was sent to me with a mission -- every day has been better since she came. Her one non-negotiable demand for being perfect is a few small nibbles of chicken on her supper, which I will gladly obey.  I hate the disappointed pouty face I get when the chicken is absent. Ellie trundles over and will eat her dog food as it is, but my little fuzzy lambs will not. 

Every day I think of how I can get going on the most recent art project and final module for the Certificate course that is still on the table. I have had a full year and...well...nothing has come to fruition. So many ideas bogged down with the need for sleep and blocked by not being able to stand or sit well enough to do very much.  I literally dream of beading but can't get started as I haven't finished the piece to bead on yet. This has to be special. Have started a collage and made some dimensional fabric forms that might work their way into the design, but the end result isn't clear yet.

Am working digitally and have some cloth to print. Am experimenting with integrating photos, and digitally altered photos, into the still life fabric collage format.  My sewing machine was broken from 12/4 until a week or so ago, so there is that, but I know the main reason for my creative sluggery has been health related. I tell my exhausted self that I can push through and work for an hour or two at night but then anything I make is clouded by a lack of enthusiasm, and I pay for the standing time the next day. Hoping spring brings a new wave of energy and good health along with sunshine so I can be more productive.  It is so hard to be patient with yourself when you can't meet your own expectations, over and over again.

Yet, the art spirit persists. Have almost filled a big sketchbook since January - a big accomplishment! Have started a little drawing time on Friday nights on Zoom and it has helped. Having a non-negotiable drawing appointment forces me to do SOMETHING at least every week, and sets the tone for the weekend. Anyone is welcome to attend this informal, free group. Message me for details.  

How is it Sunday already? Good grief! Cheers. 

Coming out of a long, gray, cold winter. Finally! We had two days of weather that let us shed our coats and feel the sunshine. Yee-hah!  Then, last night, the wind picked up and literally howled around the house and the temperature dropped, forcing me out of bed to turn the heat up a scooch so that the birds would be warm enough. 

As we turn the corner on the Corona nightmare, and vaccines will be flooding the area soon, the fear and isolation may be lessened to a point where life is back to "normal" soon. There are many aspects of this last year that I want to remember and keep with me. How often do we live through a year of serious pandemic in a lifetime? Hopefully this is it, now. 

I have learned that the reason my house is not spotless is NOT because I don't have time. 

I've learned that for some people fear can become irrational and life changing. 

I've learned that sometimes a new puppy can be an unexpected life-renewing event.

I've learned that I like to be alone, very much, thank you. 

I've learned that I can just about get through anything. 

And, hopefully, that last one is a thought shared by us all, kids included. People are ranting about how all this disruption will translate into kids "being behind" and that all learning is completely quantifiable like pennies in a jar. It just doesn't work that way, sadly. I think kids are resilient and flexible, and this unusual experience will provide them with a meaningful context for the rest of their lives. 

I am now vaccinated, Johnson and Johnson, one and done. Felt rotten yesterday so it might have been a reaction, but could have "just" been arthritis.  Due to recent medication changes, a broken sewing machine,  and an uptick of disease activity I have not been very productive in the art room and, as always, am hoping for better days ahead.  The ideas are there, the energy is just not there to make them. Maybe spring will help! 

Yesterday the book from the Baldishol-inspired exhibit arrived. I love seeing everyone's art - so much variety! It is a small book but a lovely book, and I am honored to have been included this fine exhibit. 
Cheers!

Merry Christmas, world. 6:22 am and the coffee is perfect. It is horrible outside, howling winds and sheets of rain hitting the darkened windows. Yuck. Poor Santa. I am sitting here in my Hampton Beach zip up sweatshirt, a fine memory of summertime and my Happy Place.  I'm also wearing these amazingly soft and warm hang-out-pants that my neighbor Anne passed along to me. They are fleecy on the inside and just right for a morning like this. I refuse to say they are sweat pants. Gruesome thought. Christmas Day is special because of how it changes all of the energy in the world for one day. I imagine little kids are already up and at 'em or ready for the first of several naps. Parents are exhausted. But maybe a little less so, this year. 

Because of "The Corona", I am sitting this one out.  I don't have symptoms beyond the usual allergy nonsense, but the looming thought of "What if?" lingers. No visits to cousins, to sisters, to aunts, and even neighbors get the gift of my absence this year. It will be a quiet day here, with my little fur and feather family. Am thinking of washing the floors as they really need doing, but part of me thinks that might be sacrilegious or something. And part of me HATES doing the floors.  Maybe a day of guilt-free art is in order...I have so many little things going, a good day to tie up loose ends. 

Marc Almond, God bless him, held a live Christmas concert this week. The set list was a mix of traditional holiday songs and his own music. Will definitely give that a run through and sing along, so there's something! Marc is the best. He knows people are stuck home, he is stuck home, and he is doing this to make the best of it and keep the musicians he knows working. He doesn't charge for these concerts but does accept donations to the studio fund, which is terrific. My modern Perry Como. Can't wait. 

Hapi asked if we are going to school. No way, Hap! Not today! But, a little bit of school is watching me from across my table right now. It's big pink eyes are staring at me and the glittery fabric is to die for. A little heart dangles from its mouth as it sits cheerfully waiting.  Thank you, Caroline, for the adorable Beanie Baby. SO MANY (TOO MANY) students included me in their Christmas gifting this year, which always amazes me. Life is hard enough, Christmas is hard enough, to be thinking of teachers - but it is really nice. I am always amazed and humbled when a card appears with careful student handwriting on the envelope. I treasure every one. So much love! Back at you, kiddos, and your kind families. I hope everyone is happy right now, feeling loved. If not, know that I love every one you to bits! 

On the home front, celebrating has been simple, once all the gifts and baking was delivered. I often wonder if people open things I've baked and go "No thanks!" because of the assumed domestic chaos and pets in my home.  I promise that I am vigilant about keeping food prep areas clean and making sure there are NO unintended ingredients. Nibble away. I have been! All those broken cookies...I've been holding off in getting new jeans because I am in between sizes...that might not be a problem in the near future. Oops.

Have been binge listening to my new favorite comedian, Devin Siebold. His podcast is called "Crying In My Car, a Podcast for Teachers."  Show me a teacher who has not left the building and done just this at least once and I will show you someone who isn't a real teacher. When I taught in Boston I had many commutes home that were used to flush out the new-teacher crisis of the day in order to function when I got home. The state of overwhelm is nothing to be taken lightly. It can take years to get this gig down, and just when you think you have it, it changes! His podcasts are hysterical and range from giggles to full out laughter. He gets it. I want to be in his classroom. I can only imagine how much fun it would be! 

Artistically 2020 has been a wash for me. I made the Baldishol piece, but still haven't completed the last unit of my UK textile art class. Hoping not to time out on this one! Maybe it is puppy motherhood, maybe it is just increased anxiety and age, I don't know. I really want to try to pull my stuff together for 2021, though. As always, I have big plans and little time and energy to do them. It is a great thing to be an artist though -- one is never bored. There is always another branch on the tree to reach for, even if you don't have enough swing to get there.  As recalled in song by Pat Fish, "Life is short and it's always getting shorter..."  I haven't done what I want to do in art yet...still trying, moving, experimenting, growing...but it hasn't come together like I would like yet. Always something to work for.  Yeah, the floors might have to wait today...! 

Merry Christmas from my zoo to yours. 

The thud on the porch was not as loud as it should have been when the boxes arrived today. I couldn't open my front door! Thank you, Mr. or Ms. Fed Ex Person for so gently delivering the gifts I ordered today. The dogs didn't even freak out! They were stacked neatly in a pile in front of the door so it couldn't open. Starting to feel like Christmas? Nope. 

The kids in class asked for Christmas music the other day. Too soon, I thought. Maybe next week. One class persuaded me to give it a try and it was irritating like sand in a bathing suit. Granted, it was Mariah Carey, but...Anyway, I went back to my instrumental music after that and the kids in the next class didn't ask for holiday music, so I was spared. Starting to feel like Christmas? Nope. 

I look at the three large Santa suit outfits my neighbor got for our puppies to wear together some day. They need a little adjusting to fit the little pups, but it will be worth it when we can have all six small puppies dressed up and playing together -- outside -- at some point. What a photo - a pug and five maltese. Mrs. Santa and the elves? Maybe that will do it in the "try to get the Christmas vibe going" thing? 

Found adorable beads that were just crying out to be made into holiday earrings. Made them and while I didn't feel like wearing mine, I will be sending them off to friends starting this weekend. Just because I am not feeling it doesn't mean I can't try to get the goods going for other people. 

I think of The List -- the big Christmas shopping list I made in November and haven't looked at in a while that needs to be dusted off, no matter how I am feeling about the upcoming holiday.  Usually I am happily making a few gifts, thinking of how to surprise friends and family. This year, it feels like my friends and family are voices on a phone or images on Facebook.  Not sitting around sharing stories. Being in school now means exposure to about 250 kids over two weeks, which means it is not impossible for me to be unknowingly exposed to Covid. That means I stay away from everyone except for grocery runs. Shouldn't that leave me lots of time to be creative and work on my art? 

I try to, and at the end of all the Must Do's every day I consider popping the lights on in the art room and throwing an hour or two at the several projects I've started. As always, the ideas keep coming, daily, but the energy and time are lacking. Makes no sense in some ways. I look back at a week and realize I have done very little work towards my main passion. I long for a project that immerses me in beads and stitch. It is how I relax, how I process the world. How I breathe and find meaning.  How I grow in a way that satisfies me and makes life feel valuable. How can I never find time for that? 

I suppose it is 2020, and nothing is really going well these days for anyone. The political climate is really awful right now. I never thought I'd see such instability in our government. I really think that people that are denying that there have been election irregularities are ostriches with their heads in the sand. Maybe that is a better approach? It is easier not to know the truth about some things. It seems like the more I learn about the person who believes he will be president, every day, the less hopeful I am.  I am not a radical crazy nut - I was an independent voter who has always tried to learn both sides of issues as they've come up in the world -- and can not believe how misrepresented the world has become in mainstream media. We are being divided by propaganda, and I am so glad my Dad is not here to see any of this incredible mess. The great gray cloud of 2020. It certainly is providing cloud coverage for the holidays! 

I miss my art pals, the ones that came to my humble and crowded front room every Tuesday night for years to laugh, snack, and do art together. Over time they became dear friends that were a source of laughter, strength and reason as I supposedly "taught" them classes. Their kindness knows no bounds. Today I was visited by one of them, who brought a huge box of museum quality Christmas cookies. A tradition that makes her happy to do, and her friends thrilled to receive. She actually came in and sat for a few minutes and chatted, and patted Teddie after not seeing her for nine months. Tessa is all grown up now - a testament to how long it has been since we could all get together. I say how much I miss them all and look forward to getting together again. We sigh. 

I pick up the heavy box of cookies after she leaves. They should be in the fridge as they are probably 300% butter. So many kinds of cookies, made to perfection. I think about having one, but then think about the fact that I need to lose weight, that my sciatic nerve is pinched so badly right now I am literally in tears and extra weight doesn't help this at all. I think about a lot of things that make me feel defeated. I accidentally
​bump the box against the refrigerator door and the top pops open. My favorite kind is on top! A beautiful combination of caramel and chocolate. I stop and smile. I think of her kindness in including me on her "cookie list" this year despite all that is going on that makes friends feel like strangers. Well, this cookie can't be shared with the puppies anyway...so...

Starting to feel like Christmas? Getting warmer -- thank you, Barbara. XO

With all that is going on in the big world right now, I haven't felt the presence of mind to write anything about my own little world. Every day brings new chaos Out There, and I try to stay in the eye of the storm here at home. My dog-babies are growing up and are everything I could have ever hoped for, and more. Ellie da Pug is hanging in there, too, though her years are catching up with her. I hope she makes it to her 15th birthday in January, and beyond, but I have to prepare myself for what will be a really hard day, and it could be any day. The birds are amazing and continue to brighten every morning with their voices and antics, even as they make an atrocious mess of their room. The cats have become really affectionate lately...and I wonder what they are plotting. Both are sleeping on my bed at night, and Theo woke me up at 2a.m. last night by kissing my cheek. I think they are plotting a special Thanksgiving dinner and he was having a taste! After all, no one would really know, would they? 

My status as a Leper has begun. We have had our first positive case of Covid at school, and while I was not in this person's "contact" group, I know it could happen again any day. I also know that we are fortunate to learn of the positive cases - that some families might not share that information, and exposure could be more common than we know. Therefore, I am keeping away from friends and family, and focusing on what I can enjoy and do.  So many of my friends are in the "very vulnerable" categories, and I would never forgive myself if I was the one to pass this nasty along. 

I've started a new large quilted piece and can't wait to get going on the stitching and beading steps. I need to be in my "happy place" again with stitch. I love the potential of a new piece and the mystery of the process as it unfolds. I can see where this one is going, but not all of it, so I have to be patient. I've been taking photos of my disorganized house again, and finding some neat compositions that would look great as oversized photos in an exhibit. The informal disorder captured with formal composition through the eye of the camera. I have enough material to work with for years! 

I am going to get back to work on setting up a little shop, too. If not on this website than on the dreaded Etsy. I have so many small ideas that need doing -- jewelry, neck pouches, small pieces, etc -- that I need to let myself make some and see if anyone would like them. I have done this on and off for years, mostly off because I have concentrated on bigger pieces of art.  As I am now a leper living alone, I should have the time! 

Thanksgiving will be different this year, for sure. For the first time in ages my pets will have me home for the day. It will be fun. I plan to clean out the kitchen cabinets and pantry, and make a pie. That ought to do it. Not a favorite day of mine for personal reasons, but we will get through it. Together as a 34 legged family (yes, I counted.) 

I miss my friends, and the laughter we had every Tuesday night as we made artwork, or pretended to make artwork. Covid has caused a great interruption in us getting together. I worry about them and hope that they are keeping themselves centered and okay. Having a group on Zoom just isn't the same.  I am grateful to be teaching and working with kids, though, as that keeps the creative pilot lit. 

Lately, I have become more aware politically and have shared articles on Facebook, which has also caused some disconnect with people I care about. I love all my libbie friends, and that will never change. I just don't like the philosophy of the Dems right now, for too many reasons to go into here. I am disappointed in others who put their hatred of a political candidate in front of friendship or family. I don't understand that kind of anger.  Life is too short.

So, life goes on, art goes on, the world's craziness goes on, as does Ellie's hour of repetitive barking every day at sundown. We do not know when or where this insane ride will end, and just have to put one foot in front of the other, every day. Even when it is painful to do so. To walk in such an unsure world takes bravery and strength for all of us. Every day.

​The great Mr. Difford sums up my state of mind beautifully, as always: 

Daisies and buttercups
Shadows from the sun
Innocence in Paradise
A time for everyone
Faith, mighty faith
The promise no one sees
The days pass so quickly
They will never wait for me

What is waiting? We all don't know. I hope everyone reading this is happy, healthy, and stays strong. Cheerio!



 

Long time no post! I have written some in between the last one and now, but honestly, they were dull. Not that this one won't be, but...!

Puppies are growing fast...Teddie is now a lovely young adult doggie who can run faster than any dog I've ever had, and make it look easy. She is light and agile, sweet as candy, and as I've always said, is an "old soul" kind of dog -- more mature than I will ever be in this lifetime. She is actively in her second heat right now, after which she will be spayed. I finally have decided that I love her way too much to take the risk to breed her, even though it would be a wonderful experience for both of us. If it went well, that is. Wouold be a waking nightmare if not. 

Teaching online for one more week. Four more days. I love love love being home -- but teaching online is extremely difficult for everyone. I can't see what kids are working on as they make their art, and with classes of 46 kids, it is hard to make sure on Zoom that everyone is with me and understands what is going on. The kids are doing really well with the challenges for the most part.  The worst part is when I see all the faces in a class staring back at me, and they look so, so sad. No smiles. Even when I crack a bad joke. Nothing. I see them looking at their own appearances, adjusting hair, changing their backgrounds to something that is "cool," changing their posture to look just right. When I think of how much I hated seeing my own fat face on Zoom at the beginning of this...I can't imagine how a middle schooler does it. Glad I am getting used to it now...and I hope they will get used to it, too. 

At the outset of our agreement about coming back to school, it was said that we would not have to teach a group online and in person at the same time. Sadly, this is what is now happening to my colleagues. Because I am "just art" the remote kids are getting some support asynchronously, but other subjects are responsible for live streaming their class to a student's home computer. I wish them immense luck and patience with what will be difficult in trying to meet an unrealistic expectation. 

On the art front, I am shockingly unproductive. Soon will be instituting the "6:30-8:30" work time slot at least three nights a week again now that it is dark at 6pm. When it has been light out, I've spent time outdoors with my pups, sometimes hand stitching or drawing in my sketchbook, but mostly puttering doing God knows what. They need exercise and "run run" time in the pen and I have to accommodate. My flowers have been so beautiful this year I wanted to spend time enjoying them. Now that the evening light is fading so early, doggies will be walked earlier and I hopefully will be more disciplined! The ideas are still bubbling, I just have not worked. Oops. 

On new medications that are letting me do a few things, though! That is a plus. My PCP put me on a water pill that has let me get rid of the literally 9 lbs of fluid that has made my face and legs huge and uncomfortable. Damn prednisone. She also put me on an off-label use for another medicine, also to counter act the prednisone, that seems to be regulating my energy a little better. I am able to walk more than a quarter of a mile for the first time in ages! I am trying to talk a walk that I know is 1.2 miles at least once a week with hopes of it getting longer. I can't believe it, really. I still have pain when I walk, but with Ellie in tow in the carriage (i.e. my walker!) it seems manageable.

Yesterday the three pups and I met my awesome friend Diane and Teddie's brother Raphy up Hampton. We tried them in the ocean! Finally. They did so well I am sure we will do that again. After they had to leave, the girls and I walked the whole boulevard and enjoyed amazing colors in the sky. It was hard to take Ms. Ellie in a carriage, but worth it. At one point when we were at the front of the Casino, a dog came out of a store and followed me. After a couple yards I realized this and turned around to find a sweet girl pug trying to say hello to Ellie. How she knew we were there is beyond me! We turned around and went back to the little shop her parents owned, and were invited in to talk pug. Ellie made a friend :) 

Today I can not move very well, but what does one expect when one pulls a 20lb dog in a carriage across the sand! The girls are also tired, thankfully, so maybe I can take it a bit easier than normal and get things done around the house. My heart wants to go back to Hampton and just take in the night colors again, it was so beautiful. 

Am working on a project about Munch's Scream painting with my 8th graders right now, and last night I felt a similar sense of color overwhelm that Munch described. Just beautiful. The world is giving us so much to want to scream about right now, and I am grateful for the antidote of watching a gorgeous ocean sunset with my pups. Very restorative. Peace Out, Yallll. 

Oh, the heat! If we didn't have the weather to complain about in New England, we'd be a lot quieter. Getting used to sweating like an abandoned traveler in the Libyan desert, taking in hot sun, and watching the roses bloom and die at an astoundingly fast rate. Thankfully, fall is coming. 

With great apprehension. The Covid numbers seem to be down, but how do we know who to believe at this point? They say for every one positive case there are really up to 10 (not tested.) We are at a point with less than 5 cases per 100,000, so that looks great on paper. But...what if? Figuring out how to operate school and get the kids back into a routine is an overwhelming task. I want to go back, for numerous reasons. Will be having a doctor appointment today to discuss this and get opinions. 

The venom directed at teachers that I have read online recently, has been terrible. I know parents are scared. That fear has been turned into nastiness towards teachers who are rightly considering their own welfare with regards to Covid. Teachers are asked to do everything to solve society's problems -- feed kids, teach morals and values for those who don't get them at home, evaluate and treat mental health, support struggling populations, address racism, etc. Never mind teaching our subjects! It is give, give, give, love, love, love. All. The. Time. And now teachers are saying "Wait a minute..." and thinking about survival, of themselves AND their students, in the face of pandemic. The push back has caused some parents to release angry anti-teacher tirades telling teachers to "get back to work," as if work has ever stopped, and saying teachers are "just lazy" and "don't want to work." It is hurtful and ignorant, and just so wrong. Teachers are worried about kids getting sick. I don't want any of them to get this thing, and I don't want it myself. It is a difficult time, for sure. I will remember those parents who said nasty things on Facebook. Forgive? Yes. Remember? Yes. 

Teddie is practicing her spiraling trill in the front room. It is a very high pitched bark, "Buoy-Buoy buoy buoy," over and over, at something she perceives that is out there. I love that she has the sensitivity to go to another room to let her barkies out instead of torturing me.  Everything she does is considerate. Tessa is wandering around my chair, periodically standing on her hind legs for a quick pick up and hug. She is growing into a very solid dog...! I looked at her today and said "You are a very big girl..." when she didn't flinch it was like she said "So are you!"  She is a funny puppy and pure joy to live with. 

On the art front, I am dragging my feet with the final module of the City and Guilds class. Just can't get my head around the challenge. Found a wonderful procrastination vehicle in reorganizing my massive bead hoard last week, though. Seriously, I should really be ashamed of what has entered my house in these tiny little, unsuspicious bags. I went through all my stash places and found bag after bag filled with strung beauties. Took about three days to unstring and repackage them, and then go through the massive card catalogs to remove any cups that had small amounts of beads to make more room. The small quantities went into a new storage tray system. All the time swearing that I would not buy another bead as long as I live. Eight bead trays later (each tray has 78 little containers) I am seeing the end of this task. Next step will be to catalog them into a database, drawer by drawer, so I can search and find what I need. And...I found these really cool ice-looking chunks at Michaels the other day...so...I am still very ill. LOL! Better than drugs or alcohol, I guess. It is an addiction.

Happy to have two pieces of art out there in the world on exhibit. The Baldishol exhibit, a physical art show,  is still happening, and I had an entry in the online Quilt Festival UK this year, too. Good to know that I'm not artistically dead yet, I guess! I still pray for better health every day to improve my productivity as it is hard to focus on creating when pain and fatigue becomes overwhelming and forces rest. The heat doesn't help too much.  New nerve pain in my calves is signalling me to get a new MRI to know what is happening in Ze Back. Can only ignore it for so long...ugh! 

The world is an uncertain, angry and isolating place right now. I am grateful to have my puppies and my art, my job, and the sunshine. Tally ho. 

  

So much to process in this crazy world right now. Layers of crazy peel back like skin on an onion every day, with no end in sight. I read, I watch, I listen...and still I can't understand why so much common sense is so overlooked. It is exhausting, anxiety producing, and sad. So very sad. 

This week I broke out of my solo-art-mode and hosted outdoor art classes for kids. It was GREAT to be back in that environment again, even though the temperature was reminiscent of a trip I took to the Valley of the Kings in 1987.  Kids are the best artists! Spontaneity, humor, honesty, and such great approaches to creating. We painted with acrylics and watercolors, and it was a fun week. The puppies were snuggled and played with, Kizzy got out one day and got paint on his tail feathers from jumping on the table, and I think everyone was happy to be out and in a group, albeit a little one. Masks were worn as much as possible and Purell flowed as needed.

Am masking up around my older friends for at least a couple weeks after my last class as a precaution, just in case. The virus is still around, although Massachusetts is faring better than other states seem to be. The powers that be debate how to get us back to school in the fall, safely or not, and teachers watch the latest research results like a tennis match. "It'll be ok" then "Uh-oh..." -- back and forth, back and forth. Nothing conclusive yet. Denmark looks good! Hong Kong shut down again! Three teachers infected from working together in the same room using strict precautions, one died! Kids are less likely to give it to another person than get it from an adult! So much conflict. I just don't know. 

Have been taking two interesting short courses this summer. One is Environmental Photography and has rejuvenated my interest in taking GOOD photos again! It is easy to get lulled into smart phone camera laziness in terms of taking "ok" pictures. I pulled out my dusty "good" camera -- a Nikon D40X -- only to realize it is about 14 years old now. Jeesh! So, I decided to upgrade and go back to Sony. I love the design, interface, and photo quality of the a6100 that I found, and am surprised that I did not get a DSLR. Mirrorless tech is fine with me -- the photos are amazing! Here's one of my neighbor's gorgeous dog, Demi. 

And still, the beach awaits. Haven't visited my happy place yet this summer. Must fix that.  Wish I could take the Girls, and when I can't, it makes me not want to go and leave them alone! The struggle is real. 

Am working on completing the last module of the City and Guilds course, making samples and not liking them very much, wanting to just jump in to a final piece and see where it leads. Of course, when the heat is on and I have deadlines for creative work, my Virgo brain delivers a great idea for a way to catalog my beads so I can really know what I have squirrelled away in this house. I won't lie. I have many beads. Too many? Nope. Just many. My analytical "rearrange deck chairs on the Titanic" brain would like to jump into this big organizing project and put aside the art for a bit -- I realize this is just creative anxiety rearing it's ugly head, though, and will delay the gratification of having sorted beads. One benefit to getting old is knowing how your mind works!

The puppies are still perfect, and Tessa is growing into her long face as she reaches the six month old mark. They both are joys beyond measure in my life. They had a new litter of siblings born last week, one of which will be moving to Reading at the end of the summer to live with Tessa's brother. Whoo hoo! What a playgroup this is going to be! I'd love to have more pups, but know how expensive caring for these two will be. Teeth alone! Although I think Tessa will be a dentist when she grows up because she has taken it upon herself to clean the other dogs' teeth. Every tooth, carefully and methodically. It is something to see! 

Off to the races on this fine Saturday. Hapi is calling for his breakfast, Ellie is snoring away in a dog bed by my feet, and Tess has wiggled herself in there, too. Teddie is off sleeping in the other room. Another timeless day of wondering what it is all about, and where it all is going. Cheers.! 

Well, I almost made it.

One year ago today I lost my little maltese  dog, my fur kid, that had traveled through life with me for a long and challenging fifteen years. It was really hard to lose that little bugger, and the loss hit me really hard. I was weepy for weeks.  I tried to settle the loss in my heart and mind by having his ashes on the shelf, wearing his little dog tag around my neck, having a nice canvas print made for the wall. I sprinkled a few of his ashes into the ocean, and tried so hard to let him go. Anyone that has lost a cherished dog knows the pain and suffering that can ensue. I was closer to this dog than I am to most people, and he had successfully faced many health issues prior to finally passing, so it was a little shocking, even though he was fifteen.

When I'd gotten Tilly, I was married. He went to Turkey with me, and then moved to Reading when I was divorced. He gave me a routine that I needed, and let me spoil his little self as much as I could.  As I held him when he was put down, I literally felt my heart break. I cracked. It was vicious pain that both surprised me and confused me. I have had and lost lots of animals, including a cat that I am convinced was my soul mate.  This little dog, however, became my best pal through thick and thin, and keeping him well through his medical trials became my an important personal reason for being, to a certain extent.  

The day after he died, I was accompanied by a small white butterfly on my walk with Ellie, my pug dog. It seemed everywhere I went, this butterfly came.  It was small, very active, and was bright white with two little black dots on its wings (like maltese eyes, maybe?) At one point it landed on my arm and didn't even move when I waved my arm to dislodge it. It simply hung on for about ten paces then flitted away. It was strange to have this repeated visitor show up whether I was walking my dog, sitting in my yard or my neighbor's yard, or in front of my house. I started to think of Tilly's energy fueling the little butterfly, and said "Hi Til" whenever one of these little creatures would show up. Silly, but one grieving an animal does these things! 

The past year has proved to be transformational.  Things are so much better now on so many levels. As I've posted about a lot this year, I now have my two little maltese girls, better doggies than I could have ever hoped for. I have resolved some financial issues that were hovering over my head (including a bill for Tilly's hip surgery) and have more ideas for art than I have time to complete. I have a piece in a show now, and will be entering the UK Quilt Festival this month with new work, too. I am almost done with the City and Guilds Textile course.  My health is the same, but I have suffered less because of working from home due to Covid.  A fun summer lies ahead filled with art, teaching, and puppy love, and I couldn't be more optimistic.

Such a change from one year ago. I felt sick, old, tired, and just plain weary. I was sad from loss, and then got hit with a serious medical problem that socked me in the hospital for several days.  I remember listlessly watching endless movies on Turner Classic Movies channel, thinking and not thinking, trying to figure out what would come next. My yard was a mess at home, my house even worse, and I was not feeling great, to boot. My dear friends did the unimaginable and cleaned up my yard and my house while I was in the hospital, so I could come home and recuperate. I can never repay that kindness. Ever. That was the beginning of my ship turning around.   

So today, as I said above, I almost made it. Before getting up I thought about what I could do to make this day special in memory of my Tilman. I thought about going to the beach. About having the girls see what ocean waves are all about. Once I looked at my list of to-do's, however, and saw the thunderstorms coming our way, I decided against it.  Instead I ran errands all morning and finally finished it up by about one pm. I went outside to move some plants that need planting, and wouldn't you know, a little white butterfly came flitting by. I haven't seen one yet this summer. It danced around the new roses I'd planted, landing on my long stem red, then coming to me and circling my head. I put my arm out but it didn't land. It happily continued exploring the summer growth, following a cheerful, exuberant path in the air. I couldn't help but smile, and heard myself say "Hi Til."

Only a couple tears this time.  It was my goal to not cry about Tilly anymore, especially after a year. Almost made it. Sweet Tilly, you will always be remembered and the gaping wound you tore in my heart is being slowly repaired, one puppy kiss and one smile at a time, as my new little maltese girls grow up into adult dogs. We are starting all over again, and I am sure they will break my heart, too. Guaranteed. This past year has taught me that sometimes the pain of loss can be transformative, though, and lead to better things.  I hope Tilly is wherever he needs to be, looking down at his sisters and helping me keep them in line, and knows he could never be replaced in my heart and life. The mystery of life and death. Keep sending me butterflies, little Till.  Maybe next year I will only smile.