Painful Admissions

Probably because I always over-valued my independence and dependability, this is painful for me and frustrating. Recently I have not been able to keep up my blog, nor have I been able to keep up with fellow bloggers. My back pain has come back with a vengeance and I have to take a lot of pain killers to function at all. They are just over the counter stuff—the heavy duty drugs knock me for a loop and my system rebels. Nevertheless, even the lightweight drugs leave me a bit fuzzy-headed and lethargic after a bit. I got through both shows in decent condition, but maybe I pushed too much. At any rate, I have been in rough shape.

This is not what I want to be talking about. It is so boring it makes my teeth hurt, but what is more painful is having friends think I am so caught up in myself that I have no interest in what they are writing about and the images they are sharing. I have hopes that my back will settle down. I have tried some remedies lately-all of which backfired, big time, but I remain hopeful.

I shall return! Meanwhile, I will stay in touch as best I can and am determined that this week I will at least be able to get out on the web more to see what everyone else is up to.

What Qualifies As New Work?

I don't plan to make this the official new format for the blog—going sans photo, but my limitations create some restrictions and I will settle for this again today.

Last week, I made fun of my "90% new work" rule and after some comments on that rule I thought I should clarify and ask the opinion of others as to what qualifies as new work.

Common sense and self-preservation told me to simply show mostly pieces that exist in present inventory of framed prints and enjoy the experience of our venture. Over time, I have amassed a decent collection and I could easily have had enough pieces for such a small show as this. Need I reference previous examples of ignoring common sense in my plans of action?

Therefore, after a brief period of struggling to talk sense to myself, I surrendered and admitted that I was going to spend a small chunk of money on new framing kits as well as dig into the work of prepping new pieces. My definition of new work, this time around, meant work that may have been displayed on my blog, but pieces that had never been given the final tweaks. Web ready, yes. But, not print-ready. From past experience, I knew better than to assume that a piece that had played well on the web was ready to be printed and framed for presentation. Sure enough, there were cases where I got some unpleasant surprises and spent quite a bit of time coaxing out the file that was up to the rigors of print.

By the time I finished the job, I had six framed pieces that were new to my framed-prints collection. I had planned on hanging eight pieces which would fill my small portion of our limited display area. Right off you can see that I didn't meet my 90% goal. I got close, but three pieces that I had my heart set on eluded me. (Perhaps I should be grateful. After all, we have another show in December.)

More to come on another day. Meanwhile, does your definition of new (for a show) come closer to the SoFoBoMo rules—meaning photographs taken in the period immediately before a show? Does it exclude work previously shared in any form? Maybe I am out there in some alternative universe making stuff up as I go along. Wouldn't be the first time.

Between Shows

I am still here—still alive—although I am tempted to add, barely. And , that could apply to both statements. 

I regret having been completely absent from the blogging world for so long. Most of all, it isn't fun to admit that I managed to become totally overwhelmed by the preparations for this first new art show venture. Oh, I had not yet mentioned that there would be more than one, had I? Yes, long before I was ready for the first show I had opened my big mouth and booked another one for us.  The first was this past weekend and no. 2 comes up this Saturday. But, we have a short break. Show number 3 doesn't come up until December 10 and 11.

Unfortunately for my health and peace of mind, I suffered a severe attack of Compulsive Creative Syndrome. I had to put up at least 90% new work. Oh, did I write that rule for myself? Hmmm. I suppose I did. Maybe for the December show I can let up on that mostly new pieces rule. You think? You're right. Probably not.

There were four of us participating in this first show, and we had a marvelous weekend with fine turnouts both days. The owner of the winery seemed quite happy with the event and was happy to book us for December. Then, we take a break until next year and see what sort of trouble we can get ourselves into during 2012.

Just as it has been for any of these small shows that I have ever participated in, a number of lovely people attended, and I met more people in two days than I had met in the previous six months. Remember, my theme song is "Don't Get Around Much Anymore."

I sold two of the larger new pieces and have a special order for a Christmas gift. Not a bad weekend at all, in my little world. Thanks to two different chairs that were dragged along and lots of Advil, I managed to walk out each evening all in one piece and even got a full night's sleep, last night. Hey, things are looking good. I will be in touch more in the next few weeks, now that we have one under our belts and I have some fun stories to share about doing a small art show in between a very small mountain town and a mostly-sleepy, mostly-retirement community.

Like a Hawk

(Click on the thumbnail for the bigger, better version)

Off and on for quite while, I had grieved over our loss of Betty. For a little history of Betty, see the Bitchin' Betty post. Finally, another hawk appears to have taken official ownership of Betty's perch on our roof. This fellow is big, aggressive, and appears rather young. Just this morning, I watched him drive another hawk of "his" fence south of the house. Yes, it seems this fine-feathered friend of ours has declared our fence his territory and that effectively makes the large open space west of our house his hunting ground.

Later, when I took this photograph, the hawk sat on the roof occasionally showing me those yellow eyes that you don't forget once you look into them. Periodically, he calmly checked on me, uttering that "guh-runk" I had never heard. If this fellow had let rip one of the shrieks for which these the Red- tailed Hawks are famous, I would have immediately abandoned my post. There is a reason that movie makers almost always use the screech of these hawks when they want any sort of raptor to curdle blood.

In spite of some interest in keeping track of me, this hawk was mostly attentive to signs of movement in the grass below. Eventually, when he flew away, he soared all the way to the edge of the road. That means his prey was at least one hundred yards away. Makes you think about that phrase watching like hawk.

Puppy Dogs and Flowers

(Click on the thumbnail for the bigger, better version)

A couple of days ago, I recklessly promised photos of dogs and flowers to balance all the angst and drama around here. Still feeling a bit lazy, I thought I would see if I could get away with a cheat and combine the two.

As I have mentioned previously, Galen loves to perch on benches. If I hadn't met the dam and sire, I might wonder about our dog's heritage. Never in my life have I had a dog who so loves to perch on benches even the bedroom window seat for a good view. Heck, given an opportunity, he moves from the window seat to the window sill.

One day while hanging out by my rocking chair—no doubt lulled by the clicking of the virtual keyboard in my lap, our pup suddenly succumbed to an ill-advised impulse to leap up on the windowsill beside us. There is no window seat in the living room; but, I suppose, in that tiny doggy brain, he thought such a convenience was superfluous. Needless to say, I was yanked to attention by a crash on my left and the sight of a rather stunned looking pup scrambling to his feet.

In the bedroom, transitioning from the window seat to the sill is a piece of cake. Still, as you form your mental image of this maneuver, keep in mind that Galen is not one of those tiny, delicate Shelties. He is one of the "big boys" from the litter—just over the limit for showing. That, of course, broke our hearts. Such plans we had for the little one. Dreams dashed before he fully matured. I hope you realize that the last part was written with tongue firmly planted in cheek. We bought him with full intention of loving and reveling in being loved. We needed no more. It was a wise investment.

Still Here and Smiling Now

I am late with this and have no energy for an ambitious post, but wanted to thank all for the encouraging words. We never saw the fire in the valley. It was over the western ridge. But the ridge isn't far away; the smoke was a nasty reminder; and, what news we could get was not comforting. Waiting and watching, searching for updates with details—all were less than entertaining. Having always had a healthy respect for firefighters and a much more personal sense of the role they play in my life since living in southern California, my respect for these people has grown another notch.

The Comanche complex (four smaller fires that came together) is largely contained as of 8:00 AM, today. I found these facts interesting and thought I would share them. This complex was tamed by 35 crews utilizing 30 bulldozers and 136 engines. A total of 1586 people faced the four fires and won. By the time the smoke had begun to clear, 30,000 acres were devastated by the Comanche complex alone.

Here are my favorite facts: All evacuation orders have been lifted in the Tehachapi area; full containment is expected by September 15; injuries—0; structures destroyed—0.

Galen was sick during the night. It would seem that he picked up on the "local" anxiety. He seems quite cheerful now. By tomorrow, I should be ready for puppy stories and gardening tips-or something in that general neighborhood.

Have a wonderful day everyone.

Where There's Smoke or If it Ain't One Thing....

No, it isn't a damp, foggy afternoon in sleepy little Bear Valley Springs. That haze is smoke from the Comanche fire to the west of us. This one has razed 15,000 acres already and, at 2:30 PM, it was 30% contained. We thought it had been wrapped up last night, but no such luck. By 10 PM last night, there were 50 fires burning in Kern County. Today, several are 80% contained, some 30%, and many we can't find figures on. The wind in our vally is still ESE, blowing against the fire. But, a few miles the other side of the ridge, the wind comes from the west. Tonight the wind here is supposed to switch around and come from the west. There wasn't much rain in our immediate area last night unfortunately, but the forecast offers hope once again: 30% chance of showers, tonight.

We are on Bear Valley Road and this afternoon I have watched bulldozers being hauled in, and fire engines rolling out with sirens blasting. Still, because I am not your intrepid reporter from channel whatever, I took this from the shelter on the safe side of my bathroom window. I am already breathing my allotment of smoke. You deserve a better photo since I chatter on about this, but chalk it up to lazy reporting. Hey, I am still worth every penny of my salary.

The Husband has sprinklers soaking the west side of the house. He is taking another load of lumber scraps to the dump. Is his work more than likely unnecessary? Yes. But, he takes this fire business seriously. (Not that I don't.) Not long after we met, many years ago, he faced a fire in Malibu Canyon fighting to save a house he had in the non-chic part of Malibu. More recently, he returned to help a friend and trailered horses out of that canyon during yet another fire—one that roared right down to the Pacific Coast Highway. He stood, on the beach, with horse owners trying to soothe their nervous and exhausted animals, while the flames danced just across 5 lanes of asphalt. He is not a man to take this lightly.

We hope our listeners will tune in the next few days for the latest on cute dogs and photos of flowers. Fashion stories and fishing news may be delayed, but we are looking forward to a moratorium on drama. Maybe a feature on square dancing, or a documentary on the latest Zumba workout videos. Sorry. No film at eleven.

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While I was proofing this, it began to rain. It is the most beautiful rain I have ever seen. If I could be tap dancing, I would out be there dancing and singing in that rain. The sun is still shining, so it will be a brief shower, but this stuff is wet! Wahoo!

Good News Update

Things are looking good at the moment. No flames licking up over that ridge to the northeast. The fire on the opposite side of the valley over the western ridge is still going, but it doesn't appear to have grown and the best part of all is that some of that early darkness was about rain clouds—I hadn't dared to hope. The wind, still coming from the SE, has picked up; but, it is pushing a slight sprinkle of rain. The wind is expected to shift a couple of times during the night. Who knows how many directions it may come from before it is over. 

It was lightning that set all this off, now we can hope that rain will help to tamp it down. I am pulling for enough rain to douse these things. The poor members of the Kern County Fire Department had just proclaimed the Canyon fire (the first one) 90% contained yesterday and they are back at it. They barely had time to catch their breath before starting on this round. For this many fires, they will have help coming from surrounding counties.

Galen has been jumpy all day. I knew something had changed a few minutes ago when he suddenly became agitated and let me know that I had to follow him.  I assumed he was ready for another opportunity to "tend to business", and I couldn't move quickly enough for him. He urged me to pick up the pace and was in full emergency mode by the time we hit the door. I thought I had come close to waiting too late. It turned out he must have smelled and sensed the change. We had to go outside and verify the rain. It was coming down harder—not just the sprinkles we had earlier. That calmed him down. No need for "business" after all. The rain lifted my spirits, too.

Here We Go Again

I fear that I will become known as the "drama queen", but as we shifted into gear this morning, we discovered another reminder that fire season has begun and with a vengeance, this year. Last night, we had thunderstorms with lightning strikes galore. At 6:30 AM, I took Galen out and admired the beautiful clouds and drank in some of that sweet mountain air. Within less than an hour this is what we discovered. This fire is, unfortunately northeast of us and the howling wind is coming from directly behind that fire. It turns out that we have forty, yes, you read that correctly 4 and 0 fires now burning in Kern County. What appears in the photo to be one fire (that is what we thought) is, by now, four fires, all moving west right for our valley. Thank goodness the winds are supposed to shift tonight. Forgive me for sounding shamefully selfish. I want the fire to be turned back on itself not on someone else.

By the time I am finishing this post—it has been a strange disjointed day—the smoke fills the valley. In spite of our tight windows it has seeped into the house. No more of that delicious and fresh mountain air. The Husband is mowing as fast as he can. He was checking the tractor manual a while ago. Maybe checking to see how long he can run it without wrecking the engine? I have no idea. I said a fond farewell to what was left of the daisies this morning. It was a small price to pay for a smidgen more peace of mind. It is eerily dark for 5:00 PM and not still. The wind blows and the those beautiful early autumn clouds are barely visible. The canopy that was full of promise this morning is smudged with a dirty gray.

The drama queen comment is heartfelt. It is odd that we have for long led such a humdrum existence—quiet little lives and certinly not of desperation. Then, suddenly, almost literally all hell breaks loose. I talk about these things because they are, after all, what is now and I ask you to please know that I am not whining, "poor me". We are not in any imminent danger, only alert. We are perfectly safe and sound. We have been extremely fortunate and relished a handsome share of good fortune. There are so many truly suffering today. But to some degree my blog is reporting on life in our little mountain valley—telling stories about what I see here. Therefore, this post isn't completely personal then, just reporting what I see and what little I know.  Sometimes we are swept along by currents we didn't prepare for. It keeps life interesting, but may I order some boredom, please? And another order to go, if you don't mind.

Something Silly This Way Comes

I started at least three posts, but finally faced the facts. I could only manage something silly. A snapshot that makes me smile.

Of course, it has been easier to smile since The Husband was returned safely to me late yesterday. He is making only croaking noises due to bruising of vocal cords; otherwise, he is doing rather well. The surgery was the result of a parathyroid gland. I know. I didn't know we had any either. Turns out we have four, located near the thyroid gland and sometimes one runs amuck. When that happens, that one will begin to overproduce all sorts of things not good for the rest of the body. The gland that began the size of a grain of rice starts growing and needs to come out. He now has one less parathyroid gland (that had become the size of a large grape) and for the moment is quite hoarse. By next week he should as good as new—well, okay, a lot better than he was.

I was guilt-ridden because I couldn't be there to take care of him; but, frankly, he had said that if I was the one to take him there and back he would be burdened with the anxiety over my well-being. I had to admit he made strong points. I know that my anxiety over three friends who are dealing with devastating news tears at me. So his assessment was not what I wanted to hear, but factual.

This is a learning experience I hadn't planned on. Denial can be a wonderful tool, can't it? Besides, some things we just don't imagine ever having to deal with and that is healthy, I think. It truly is a blessing that most young people can't comprehend what lies ahead of them. Egads! If at twenty-five you could fully imagine what your body could be going through in later decades, you might not want to face it. You likely would, at least, be really ticked off. I am being flippant, at the moment, but I do believe that it is just as well that we have those early years of living in blissful ignorance. If there is nothing we can do to avoid what is in store, why spend time dreading it? I am thrust fully into my "education". During this schooling, I fully expect to drag out that old denial technique periodically. I suspect it will come in handy.