A QUIET HOLIDAY

Bobbie sitting in a 1909 Internatioonnal Harvester truck.

It’s really the little things that really matter.  Friday night, we changed seats at our regular meeting, and I could hear what folks said for the first time in a long time.  Saturday morning, Bobbie and Geoff arrived right on time.  To the minute.  Sunday morning, yes we were lazy but we were also off to the six buck senior matinee of the new Star Wars.  Monday night, dear George began coming down with a cold, and I confirmed it was a pink fluid dripping under Grumpy.  Dixie phoned twice too.  A perfect balance.

                     

At the SD Fine Arts Museum in Balboa Park.

Bobbie announced that she wanted to spend the day with us.  Sounded a bit much to me, but I looked forward to seeing both of them.  They brought presents…delightful things.  Travel books and fun things for G, little magic things for me.  We took them to breakfast at Broken Yolk, and afterwards went to three museums.

They seemed to enjoy the Automotive museum.  I watched them following G around while I sat and ogled videos.  They loved the Mingei but crashed toward the end.  We knew the solution, and we walked them across the Prado where they ate all those things they wouldn’t usually eat…and drank coffee.  And talked.  I blew it and had a S’mores Crème Brule.  Back across that giant space to the Fine Arts….aren’t free passes wonderful.  There we managed both floors and the extensions.  Us two artists often judgmental as the Museum has much in the way of mediocrity.  Shame on us.

 I solved the nonfunctional spine problem by sauntering into a gallery room and sitting.  I duplicated that in every room in each gallery in each museum and was quite chipper as we headed back to the cars.  G and I even had enough energy to join friends at a Speakers Meeting later.

                 

A Harry Potter reveal in miles of bubble wrap.

Monday, Margot and Zoe were also right on time.  Bags of goodies, lots of laughter, lots of love.  I’d called her early and asked again to have my Volume three of the Harry Potter series returned.  They had it only a couple of years.  The first present I got was well wrapped in a half a mile of small bubble wrap….endless, massive amounts, everywhere bubble wrap.  Inside was the Harry Potter.  We all had a delicious laugh.

Brunch at the Broken Yolk again.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

• Himself:  At work till noon.  Feeling unprintable.
• Me, myself, and I:  Pool, but no class, took Grumpy to his mechanic, and home to write this plus thank you notes.
• Reading:  Starting something new today.
• Captain Poolie:  The latest tests confirmed nothing cancerous anywhere.  No other news.
• Gratitude’s:  The relatively quiet holiday.