“The most regretful people on earth,” the poet Mary Oliver wrote in contemplating the artist’s task and the central commitment of the creative life, “are those who felt the call to creative work, who felt their own creative power restive and uprising, and gave to it neither power nor time.”
This because I am waiting for the stove repair guy again- all it took was the terror of those houses outside Boston exploding to scare me into finding out why I smell gas when I
BAKE BIRTHDAY CAKES, usually not for squirrels.
Hmm, apparently not many of you missed me since I've been gone. Maybe Absence Really Does Make the Heart Grow Fonder and being gone will grab all of you back into my sphere. Anyway, I have been in Boston for a week, took the 6 AM flight home yesterday to spring the aged Molly from her incarceration. She seemed to be happy to be home, but is still looking for her dad who snoozes with her in the den during the day and in the bed at night. She is very tired following me around, afraid I will abandon her again I think because if I move to a new room she freaks out looking for me. Oh well, I will probably do the same when I'm over 100 too. But give me biscotti or veal chops instead of dog treats please.
Being as Creative as Possible these days:
It is pretty interesting to see an underneath band give out and the little tails pop out. Look at about 5:00 and see a little yellow~ This thing is now bigger than a giant grapefruit so most grocery store rubber bands won't fit around it. I may have to take to tying them together to add any additional. Or buy bigger produce.
OK, so Boston: It was wonderfully cool, only in high 70's and with heavy cloud cover so my thin blood was happy wearing sweaters while everyone in tube tops laughed at the old lady. Told them to just wait and they will be hot all the time. Then cold all the time.
After a morning of driving an hour to make it to an U-Pick apple farm, missing the connection to the hay truck to drive us to the picking trees and standing around waiting for the kids to return, we ate about thirty cider doughnuts to kill some time.
So we visited with 
the 800# (give or take) hog who apparently bites BUT since I doubt he can even get up, I wasn't too afraid. It wasn't like I had to pat him or anything.
After the farm we headed over to Elias' soccer game and stood around watching the third graders run. Fun to see how good some little kids are, and you just know it's genetics! Then we were all hungry so headed off to the Ipswich Brewery where we ordered more food than any hefty family should, and of course, beer.
Unfortunately I cut my SIL out of the left side but the picture he is in didn't show TY or my DIL. So, this is the whole bunch except Jamie and me. The star of the family is in her dads arms at the end of the table- not yet 2 but the sunniest happy baby I have ever seen. Her disposition must come from her mom, because her dad's side is a bunch of sarcastic beer-lovin' kooks. This is a rare picture, we were last together at Christmas which did not involve Apple Picking, Giant Pigs, Soccer, or Beer.
So, today is bill paying, hemming a dress, companion-ing the doggie, and perhaps doing some laundry from my trip. And getting back on the diet wagon. My water bottle is already half finished.
Very quickly, we will grab an ARTY PARTY today to amuse you (and of course me too). This guy blew me out of the water...a new take on Book Art.
Johan Deckmann is a Copenhagen-based artist, practicing psychotherapist and author, whose works examine the complications of life through witty one-liners painted on the covers of fictional “self-help” books. These book titles, though often filled with scathing satire and humour, tackle life’s biggest questions, fears, and absurdities.
Recognizing the power of language in both therapy and art, Deckmann successfully forms simple phrases that compress information, feelings or fantasies into an essence, and a truth that has an effect that is very similar to therapy. “The right words can be like good medicine,” Deckmann shares.
Long post, welcome back if you are, thanks for stopping if you aren't! Sandy
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