Some people use their blogs as daily diaries, and so I thought I’d give that a try and cover today’s events, not that anything of any great import occurred.
First was a stroll around the complex with Mamie in the early-morning air, so cool that my outfit consisted of shorts and a fleece jacket. Mamie went to the groomer’s yesterday for what I thought would be a trim and turned out to be a shave. Apparently, I haven’t been pulling my weight with tangles and knots, so the groomer felt it necessary to buzz cut past them - as a result I came home with half of my dog still on the floor.
We walked around while Mamie waited for peeing/pooping inspiration to hit. There’s a path that circles our complex but I don’t often take it. There’s a preserve of some kind behind us and I’m not convinced that a wild boar or something equally unfriendly might come lurching out of that impenetrable foliage.
Then I had a golf date with a brand-new acquaintance from here at the complex. The wait at the course was so long that instead we ended up at the driving range and then went for lunch. I came home feeling as though I’d spent the past three hours in a wind tunnel.
B. is a pleasant lady but she’s one of those people who never stops talking. Ever. Once in a while I sandwiched in a word or two, but wow.
In the evening My Guy and I went to a showing at the Art Center here in town. It was packed, not surprising since the classes there are very well attended and many of the attendees had their work on display. A piano tinkled, people passed hors d'oeuvres and my husband obsessed over his plastic glass of cabernet and the high probability that he’d get bumped and spill it. So of course what really happened was that he ending up bumping me and knocking my wine out of my hand and onto the floor and all over my feet. Validation for my decision years ago to switch to white.
As I stood with a soggy foot looking across at a grouping of paintings, a small woman of about 75 with improbably red hair asked me what I thought of the one in the corner, a painting of two women. It didn’t do much for me, but something made me say, “I like it – it reminds me of someone.” She said she was the artist and happily began telling me that she was trying to model some of Klimt’s techniques. Her husband, a tiny man about 5’3”, added that she had another painting around the corner, one of a sunset. I thanked him and went to check it out. It was actually quite good, and before I left I tracked her down to tell her that I liked it even better than the first, to which she said she did, too.
We then went to try a nearby restaurant at a marina, and sailed in without a wait, in spite of the fact that this is the height of the season. We were rewarded doubly by arriving unfashionably early - just in time for this sunset.