The Haasienda on Shroyer…

The weather across the country has offered a plethora of scenarios with hurricanes, thunderstorms, heat waves, and more. The Miami Valley is expecting 90 degrees by 3 PM and tomorrow, we are told, it shall be 95 degrees. Both temperatures have lowered from their earlier predictions.

Now, inside the house is very comfortable but should it become too warm, we all shall be as still as the Sphinx of Egypt.

Last evening, Mama Kay, Laura, and I went to El Toro for a Mexican meal. I got four hard shell tacos of beef and chicken, and then an order of Nachos Chicken Fajitas with my chips on the side so they would not become soggy. I generally bring over half the plate home to mix with at least two meals: an omelet or a salad.

I returned to the deck for the remainder of the evening, listening to an audiobook, Gordon S. Wood’s, FRIENDS DIVIDED: John Adams and Thomas Jefferson. It’s very well-researched but a bit on the dry side. Perhaps it is the narration; however, at least this reader is not doing ridiculous voices for the women!

On with the remainder of my day. I finished a late breakfast/lunch of a chicken fajita omelet.  

Make it a great day!

I love this aerial photo of the Sphinx. Notice the sealed-off hole on the head of the statue.

It’s an incredibly muggy day for the Miami Valley and the cloudy skies tease us as we believe rain to be imminent, soon. However, rain is not in the immediate forecast for over a week. A weather heat advisory has just been issued.

Sunday afternoon, my last senior had her final lesson with me just as a new student was waiting for her first lesson. Isabel Rawlins, a recent year’s Jimmy’s Award Winner and stalwart of Dayton’s Muse Machine stage is on her way to Wright State University’s Musical Theatre program where she will be in most excellent hands. This was a bittersweet departure which encouraged a few tears on my part.

Col. Deeds has always loved on Isabel and now that he is taller can reach her shoulders with his paws to give her hugs and smother her with his insistent kissers. I know he will miss Isabel, too.

But, as in all my previous years in private teaching, the four new students I met yesterday swapped enthusiasm for the sadness of Isabel’s departure. It’s a new school year and I am blessed with a strong bevy of talented, committed students.

I have set aside some time to pack up old, unneeded clothing, and some other items to be shared with a friend whose Girl Scouts troop will use in a garage sale. It was perfect timing as I begin another round of downsizing.

Okay. Lunch is finished and I need to pack up the items so I can grab a nap before it is time to teach.

Make it a great day!

PHOTOS: Isabel’s last lesson.

Despite the thick, heavy air that created mugginess throughout the night, it was a comfortable sleep. At 3 AM, after a bathroom break, I returned to my room to see Erma standing by the door to the deck. Erma, followed by The Sisters and The Colonel, bolted outside while Chief remained in the bedroom. I sat in my chaise lounge, savoring the cool air, and was glad the four pooches were taking their time.

Today we are expecting highs in the mid-80s. Right now, it is already 72 degrees. Thankfully, we will not experience the nineties until tomorrow which will remain a total of three days.

There is little on the docket, today, and I am hoping to accomplish much in the way of plotting and researching.

Make it a great day!

TODAY’S ART OFFERING:

” Childhood Memories “

Oil On Canvas
122 x 80 cm
Rudolf Epp
(1834 – 1910)
Was a German realist Painter who belonged to the Munich School. Rudolf Epp was born in Enerbach Am Necker in 1834, the son of a decorative painter. After he drew of his own accord and had been artistically active since his youth, he was first taught by the landscape painter Karl Ludwig Seeger. He then studied at the Grobherzoglich Badische Kunstschule Karlsruhe as a student of Johann Wilhelm Schimer and Ludwig Des Coudres and attended the Kunstakademie Dusseldorf.

Friday was a nice day. I spent most of it relaxing while dealing with a tumultuous gut episode but managed to accomplish some household tasks, a load of laundry, and a dishwasher load.

Friday evening, Laura brought three chicken dinners to Mama Kay’s for our supper. I contributed a peach pie and sugar-free vanilla ice cream. However, I brought over three different plates: one from the Royal Stewart China Rick and I purchased in March 1990, one belonging to my great-grandmother, Thelma Daugherty Barmes, and the third belonging to my great-great-grandmother, Mabel Bannon Daugherty, the mother of my great-grandmother. Three sherbet dishes for the ice cream were from the set purchased in 1893 by my maternal great-great-grandmother, Anna Greenlee Jones. The gold-plated forks and spoons were from the set that Rick and I purchased for the Royal Stewart China.

After dinner, we journeyed to Dayton’s South Park Neighborhood to attend their annual outdoor Shakespeare In The Park production. This year was Shakespeare’s, A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM.

This morning has been more relaxing in bed with Harrigan and Col. Deeds constantly at my side. I’ve managed a few more household chores and feel accomplished. I’ve been listening to a new audiobook, THE MADNESS OF MARY LINCOLN, by Jason Emerson. While the content is excellent, the narrator, Steven Roy Grimsley, while strong of voice, does a ridiculous job imitating the female commentary. I’ve listened to female narrators who will deepen their voices for male commentary, but they do not offer such a hilarious effect.

I have a ton of purchased books in my audiobook library and I am hoping to get to these more and more.

Tomorrow, I begin the academic year private teaching with nine new students, three of which are Zoom lessons from Western states. This is the first year that I do not have any senior students.

On with my day.

Make it a great day!

We’ve had some lovely mild days and Saturday evening was about as perfect as a summer night as one could find for mid-August. Today, we expect a blast from hell’s furnaces with mid 90° temperatures.

Today, 33 years ago, I moved to Dayton, Ohio. I first lived in a beautiful historic townhouse in McPherson District, just across the river on the north side of downtown Dayton. In 1993, I moved to Centerville Ohio for the next 10 years. In June 2003, my first two sons and a couple of foster sons moved to Shroyer Road in Kettering, where I’ve lived for the past 20 years. I have surpassed my years as a Hoosier by seven.

While I love my adopted Buckeye state and communities, I will always be a Hoosier at heart.

Tonight begins the academic year schedule for private lessons. I have one more student, Isabel Rawlins, who will be the last of my seniors. She’s heading toward a fantastic musical theater career at Wright State University.

It’s hard to believe that we are now on the final stretch for August 2023. September will be here before we know it. On September 25, I shall turn 59 years old, thus entering my 60th year in this life. Regardless, of the common agitations in life, I can honestly say, “It’s been a good life.”

On with the day.

Make it a great day!

So far, none of my plans during this break have worked out or have just become completely screwed up for one reason or another. Ahhhh…

This morning, I have been forced to work inside as the air around the deck is still damp from yesterday’s rain. I detest working in the study or bedroom when it’s warmer weather but I also am hesitant to be in the moist air.

As for today, I am still scheduled for Taco Tuesday with Mama Kay in an hour, and I have house manager training this evening. Tomorrow had options but it has now become a comedy of scheduling errors, none of which were my doing. So be it.

It’s time to get ready for lunch with Mama Kay who will pick me up after Mass. I have not been able to do a Taco Tuesday in weeks and I am looking forward to this venture!

Make it a great day!

Thursday… oh, please be gentler, accommodating, and encouraging. I have a few days left of my break, and I’d prefer smoother sailing.

The weather, for the most part, seems cooperative with s comfortable high of 80 degrees but with rain coming mid-afternoon.

I have been listening to a great audiobook, THE REPORTER WHO KNEW TOO MUCH, about the legendary reporter and celebrity, Dorothy Kilgallen, a popular fixture on the television game show, WHAT’S MY LINE?. Her thorough, transparent reporting investigation of the Sam Shepherd murder case and the murder of Lee Harvey Oswald by Jack Ruby catapulted Dorothy to the heights of intrigue, and an avid opponent to the top investigative agencies who wanted her reporting silenced.

And she was silenced!

This morning, I have been listening to a neat documentary on YouTube about the Mayflower. Very interesting. My ancestor, William Bradford, is featured prominently in the documentary. I am the fifteenth great-grandson of William Bradford through his daughter, Patience, on my Daugherty side.

Eighty-three years ago, today, Elwood’s hometown boy, Wendell L. Willkie returned to accept the Republican candidacy for President of the United States, opposing incumbent Franklin Delano Roosevelt who was running for a third term. Into the medium-sized Elwood, the tomato capital of the world, crammed over 350.000 citizens to see the candidate and to celebrate, “Willkie Day!” I am always proud to remember that spectacular day in my hometown’s history.

It’s time to start my day – with my fingers crossed.

Make it a great day!

“Wednesday, I had such high hopes and even expectations for you, even after the tentative original plans fell through.”

Wednesday went the same zigzagged, ever changing path as Sunday afternoon/evening, all of Monday, and all of Tuesday. Before Tuesday was over, Wednesday was all rescheduled. 

The new item was taking over 200 books to to resell at 2nd & Charles at nearby Town & Country shopping plaza. These books had been sitting in my living room for months due to my slow process of downsizing. My former student, now much beloved friend, Alex Loree, agreed to take me there several months ago but when that day arrived, my body was not cooperating. At the last minute, this morning became the target day.  

I called 2nd & Charles about 45 minutes prior to our delivery time to ask if we needed a reservation. John, the associate on the phone, said no reservation was needed, and that they take all kinds of books, CDs, vinyl records, and original covers, DVDs, and games. He listed several other items, but they were immaterial to my needs.  

Alex and I packed up all the books. There were quite a few I had owned for 45+ years. I am intent on downsizing, and sadly I need to part with books that are no longer needed. At the customer, service counter, the young gal said that I needed to grab three white bins against the to carry my books. I asked if they took more than three of these filled white bins as John had never said anything over the phone. Her response? “That’s too bad but this is our policy.“ I wasn’t challenging the policy, but concerned that John had omitted their process of buying back items

Alex and I loaded three of those damn white bins with books and CDs and brought them to the counter. As she looked through the items, she said that they were not taking CDs.

“Why didn’t John mention this when I called over the phone 45 minutes ago? He specifically said you were taking Cds.“ She shrugged.

She took down all my information and checked my drivers license. She asked for my phone number so they could call me when they had finished sorting through everything and to offer a price. Sure. 

“I’ll call you the minute we finish this.”

I thanked her and explained that it would be great since Alex and I could grab some lunch. 

Alex and I went to Elsa’s Mexican Restaurant on Main Street in Centerville. It was great to see him again, and to catch up on our lives since we last saw one another in April. We live about four blocks apart, but our schedules have not permitted us the luxury of time together.

Finally, at 2:30 PM, I suggested that we just go ahead and return to the bookstore. When I walked in, I saw all my books, still in the three white bins on the counter. I told the associate that I thought they were going to call me to let me know they were finished with the evaluation.

“Oh, I guess we forgot.“ 

There was no ounce of an apology or regret. Then she went on to explain that none of my books could be purchased because they were all too old.

“Too old?”

“Yeah, they’re just not going to sell for us.”

I knew it was pointless to ask further questions so Alex and I put the books back into my milk crates and decided to drive to Goodwill where I would donate them.

At the Goodwill store, they hauled out all of the books and gave me a receipt. As we were leaving the parking lot, I noticed I did not have my cane in the car with me. Alex drove back around

 to where we had dropped off the books and they did not have the cane. He and I agreed that I had probably left it at the bookstore. Yes. That’s where I had left it.

Ironically, the name of the cane from the company is called Big Alex.

I’ve been home an hour, and I’m on the still damp deck with The FabFive. I’m tired, exasperated, humorless, and quite pissed with the day’s continuing comedy of errors and crashing events.

Today’s exception and saving grace was spending time with Alex. 

Suck It & Charles = -1000 – always my go-to bookstore, but now I’m no longer a faithful customer.

Time with Alex = immeasurable and grateful.

The blustery day could have been out of a chapter from Winnie The Pooh. The wind was with us all day and heavy rain clouds were always threatening us with a downpour. Only a few light, rapid showers passed over The Haasienda. 

The few times I relaxed in bed, I so enjoyed listening to the beautiful wind chimes from the deck. One set of wind chimes, a long ago gift from Kevin, Shelly, and Isabel Houser, sound like hand chimes, and are very soothing and pretty in their delivery.

My body should have never left the house for lunch at the Mexican restaurant, but I was very hungry for Mexican food, and very determined to make it happen. 

I was home by 3 PM, fed the dogs, secured the door to the deck so the dogs could come and go, and managed to get a 90 minute nap in before I had to leave for downtown.

At 6:30, I was at the Schuster Center for a touch-up training session for the House Managers. It was excellent! Everything through Dayton Live is very well communicated, the training is solid, and all of us associated with the company are respected and appreciated. The appreciation goes so very far. It’s now 9:40 PM and I am still elated from this evening’s training brush up.

I thought my Wednesday was secure in its potential lineup; however, one sudden changed item triggered a domino effect with the rest of the day. While I was originally agitated, I encouraged myself to laugh it off, as this seems to be the seam of my break. So be it.

I have 15 minutes until No. 17 arrives to deliver me 90 steps from my front porch on Shroyer Road. It’s quite a comfortable evening and relatively quiet at the Wright Stop Plaza bus terminal. Several friends have volunteered to pick me up downtown, but I really do enjoy my respite from the five dogs. I love them, but like any parent, I need a break. And I truly am grateful for those friends who have volunteered to deliver me or retrieve me from downtown. Thank you!

On with the evening.

Once my schedule got off track at the start of the day, there was no chance in hell I was going to resume my intended course for the day.

Today was just one of those days where everything I planned went awry. As I reported in my initial blog post for today, I added a few more hours of unintended sleep, which threw my schedule off.

At 2 PM, I was seated at my desk for my zoom conference. 40 minutes into the conference, the electricity went out. I simply went back to my bedroom and fell asleep.

I decided I wanted some sugar-free vanilla ice cream so I hopped on the southbound No. 17 and went to the pet store to get some chewables for the pooches, and then meandered on over to Kroger. Our Kroger is being remodeled, enlarged, and basically turned all around. Oh my handy-dandy grocery list was pointless. I knew what I needed, but the order in which I had listed my items was not even close to the order in which I had intended to find them. I’m not complaining, as I do prefer a good challenge, when it comes to grocery shopping and finding where they’ve moved everything.

It seemed as though there were a lot of folks who had no idea what they needed, wanted, or I even had a nervous system. In many ways, it was like watching a zombie movie.  Some college students have returned, and I always am amused to watch them shop. Some obviously understand the whole concept. However, there are some that still need to have their parents with them. Hell, it would probably behoove me to have a parent with me.

It appears that a storm is rolling in, but I should be on the bus before it arrives. I’m sitting here on the park bench at the bus, stop, watching , some uncanny driving practices. It can get easily congested, and some drivers have absolutely no comprehension of how to work with others. The lack of turn signal use is impressive. One lady, in her big SUV, made a U-turn in the exact spot where there’s a sign that indicates U-turns are prohibited. I shook my head at her as she passed, and she just laughed and gave me the finger. I’m guessing her ponytail was pulled too tight , and it was affecting her senses.

Chick-fil-A is packed and seems to be doing a good business tonight, as always. I had hoped to get a rotisserie chicken in Kroger, but the past two times I’ve attempted to get one they’re gone. I wonder if I’m looking in the right place anymore.

For some reason, I didn’t pull the cord to signal a bus stop at my usual location. Fortunately, I only had two blocks to walk instead of just crossing the street. I was hoping to have 30 minutes of time on the deck, but as I walked up my driveway, the little droplets of rain, we’re starting to show on the pavement.

I made the mistake of returning to my bed after letting the dogs out to potty following their breakfast. I propped open the door to the deck, and immediately fell into a deeper sleep than what I had experienced throughout the night. A number of times over the next three hours, Colonel Deeds popped in and out to snuggle with me before being called back to guard duty in the backyard.

Finally, at 9:45 AM, I was pulled back into complete consciousness when I heard the rain began to hit the wooden deck. Although I was aggravated, I had missed out on three hours of research and writing time, my body I needed the rest.

I breakfasted on scrambled eggs and toast, prepped a pot of green beans, sausage, tomatoes, rice, and peppers on the stove, and in return to my desk to sketch out a revised plan for the remainder of the day. At 2 PM, I will be on a Zoom chat with fellow Lincoln historians, and I am quite excited about that. 

It’s half past noon, and I finally feel as though I’m getting a handle on my day without chastising myself too much.

Make it a great day!

Today, August 13th, is International Left Handers’ Day, a celebration for those who write with their left hand.

Until today, I was not aware we had a day set aside to honor those of us who write with our left hand. But, we do!

On my paternal side, my grandmother, Rosemary Richardson (Jolliff-Mroz-Bateman) was lefthanded but when she began school, the teacher tied Rosemary’s left hand to the desk chair so she would be forced to write with her right hand.

Rosemary’s son, my birthfather, Danny Jolliff, wrote with his left hand but never dealt with any restrictions to write with the right hand.

Nor did I. I picked up the pencil/pen with my left hand and kept writing.

There are only a few family members on my maternal side, which I know, who wrote with their left hand. My great-great-grandmother, Anna Greenlee Jones was left-handed, but none of her children were left-handed.

Anna’s granddaughter and sister to my grandmother, Joyce Clary Riser, went to her first day of school in h the one room schoolhouse just east of Forrestville Cemetery in Boone Township, Madison County, Indiana. Mae Tapin, the schoolteacher and family friend, told my great-grandmother that Joyce sat her desk and picked up her pen with her left hand. She looked around at how the other students were holding their pens and had their papers angled. Aunt Joyce switched the pen to her right hand and changed the angle of her paper and wrote right handed from that moment on.

So here’s to all my left-handed comrades!

Each morning, the sun is taking longer and longer to escape over the trees and roof lines to the east. It’s another somber reminder that summer is subsiding. Yet, the golden burst of light that is now shining at 7:30 AM holds the promise of a beautiful day. Monday, however, is scheduled to rain all day. And I’m sure my body will begin reacting by this afternoon or late evening.

Saturday, go productive on many sides, was someone lame in accomplishing what I intended with research and writing. At 6 PM, after introducing Colonel Deeds to Mama Kay‘s cousin, Sue, and let our friend, Mary, love on him for a moment, the four of us traveled to southern Centerville to dine at La Piñata. By 8:30 PM, I was in my chaise lounge on the deck, surrounded by five loving pooches.

I’m insisting on a full day of research and writing with the hopes a few interruptions. Nicole Melin left a large bag of produce from her garden on my front porch and for the past 20 minutes, I’ve been contemplating what to make. I am always so appreciative of Nicole’s offerings from her garden.

It’s time to get this day going while I’m feeling some energy and my body is cooperating. It feels so strange and awkward to have a vigorous and sharp mind without the body to match.

Make it a great day!

It’s Saturday morning, and I finally have some energy and less achiness. Wednesday morning, I trimmed and mowed my grass, and by Thursday night, after returning from downtown, I was feeling the price from Thursday morning‘s activity. Friday, I only managed to order my groceries, bring them inside upon their arrival, and go to the bathroom. I did spend about 90 minutes on the deck toward mid-evening, but the remainder was spent in bed. Colonel Deeds and Harrigan spent the majority of their time snuggled next to me when they were not outside, playing, or investigating the parameters of the yard.

This morning is quite beautiful and comfortable with agreeable temperatures in the low 70s, and a cool breeze cover in the area. We are expected to make it into the mid-80s today. It’s a bit overcast and there is a suggestion of rain later in the morning or early afternoon.

I have the next three days free from teaching as schools begin getting underway for their 2023–2024 academic year. Other than a training event for House Managers, I am relishing this free time. I am hoping I will have the energy and a cooperative body to hopefully explore some things of interest. There is also a need to have this personal downtime before lessons and house management schedules take over so I can accomplish things around the house while working on my main project. Of course, there’s time to be spent with my five furry companions.

Make it a great day!

What does one do when he misses THREE buses within a half block? Well, you drop by Neon Movies and grab a popcorn to go and head to the concert at Levitt Pavilion.

And upon learning it was a “to-go” popcorn, the Neon’s concession associate even put a clear plastic lunch lady’s cap on the top of the bucket. I love it, and appreciate it.

When I wasn’t working at my hospital table while sitting up in bed, I was definitely napping. I believe I napped more than work.

I forced myself to dress, hop on the northbound No. 17, and went to my favorite Chinese buffet for dinner. Upon leaving around 6:45 PM, I could not manage to catch three different buses that were heading to the downtown terminal at Wright Stop Plaza. Two of the buses have the same stops while the other is a stone’s throw away.

Knowing a concert was beginning at Levitt Pavilion, I made that my destination, but not before stopping at the Oregon District’s Goodwill and Neon Movies. I arrived at Levitt Pavilion with four dress shirts, slacks, and a bucket of popcorn. For someone moving closer and closer to 59 years, this evening turned into a major score.

The Marcella Simien Band is quite good. I’ve 50+ minutes for the southbound No. 17 and I couldn’t be happier for missing three buses.

It’s an ordinary Saturday morning. The sun is out with a slight overcast or haze, and there’s a strong enough wind to offset the humidity and 81 degrees.

It’s an ordinary day. I do not feel sad and I guess I am recharting much of my attitude toward grief. While I do miss Mother, who passed away four years ago, today, I have learned to live with this latest stage. There are so many reasons to celebrate her life, and the life she gave me that those reasons now outweigh the sense of loss and are reinstated with appreciativeness and the mission to always be of service. As our cousin, Jerry Hallett, wrote earlier today, “Moms are special. Perhaps that is why the loss of them hurts so badly. You will miss her badly for a long time, but take the time to remember the laugh times, too.”

It’s great advice and very much along the new path I’ve adopted.

One thing that has become clearer to me over the past several years is that I am glad Mother has not had to deal with her two surviving children dealing with multiple sclerosis. Mother, who could be calm and in great self-control, was also a terrible worrier when it came to her children and grandchildren. The silence of her stress and anxiety was greatly masked but always felt. While my sister and I have done quite well in dealing with our individual, mutual disorders, and maintaining fairly routine lives, Mother would have been a relentless packet of anxious tension.

Tonight, I will have supper with my bonus sister, Laura, and relax for the remainder of the evening with an audiobook and The FabFive.

Sunday, I will have two new students starting with me, and another two on Monday and Tuesday. My recent seniors are beginning to leave the studio-nest for their college careers and I will be following them through the years.

I need to continue with my day. I stated at the top that it’s an ordinary day, but to be honest, I don’t believe any day is ordinary as there is always something to capture, to learn, to celebrate, and for which to feel gratitude.

Mother, I miss you and I hope you know you will always be loved…

Make it a great day!

DAILY ART QUOTE!

“It’s not what you look at that matters, it’s what you see.” Henry David Thoreau

Artist Daniel Garber painted landscapes en plein air, direct from nature itself.

I’ve been listening, half watching a delightful documentary about the typewriter, which is streaming on Pluto History Channel. Of the several authors interviewed, David McCullough was featured, describing how he wrote every bit of his published work on his favorite typewriter. Typewriters have become vogue with this current generation of young people. In fact, one of my sixth-grade voice, students has taken to writing and prefers her typewriter over her computer.

I was in third grade when my parents bought me a typewriter. It was a red and white and hard glossy case. I used it extensively, even at that young age, to write my stories and my daily journal. When I ran out of typing paper, I resorted to my lined paper with the three holes already punched.

When I entered junior high school and some of our papers were expected to be typed, my mother allowed me to use her typewriter, which had once belonged to my grandfather. The portable Smith-Corona typewriter was purchased in 1953 shortly after my grandfather joined the Elwood Police Department and Grandpa Leroy used it to type his investigation reports. Once Mother entered high school in the fall of 1959, Grandpa’s typewriter became a shared fixture at 729 South A St. in Elwood Indiana. Mother claimed she had typed every high school paper on that typewriter.

After 1979, the Smith-Corona hand-me-down rarely left one end of the dining room table during my high school years. I can remember Mother teaching me how to clean the metal type-slugs with the obnoxious, piercing smell of the cleaning fluid, how to use carbon paper for two copies, and how to apply White Out or corrective paper. She attempted to teach me the home keys and proper typing but halted her instruction once she saw how quickly and accurately I moved across the keyboard without proper technique.

It was such a comfortable device on which to write. My fingers found those keys as comfortable as the keys on my piano and saxophone. It was on the typewriter that I learned to type lyrically and musically while I learned and practiced telling musical stories on the piano and saxophone. Making music and telling stories, for me, our one and the same.

When I entered college, the Smith-Corona typewriter found a new home on my desk in Swinford Hall, a part of the Ball State University honors college complex. Computers were just becoming popular for word processing, and of course, electric typewriters had been around for years. However, I preferred my manual Smith-Corona typewriter as it exercised my fingers more for the piano and saxophone, as well as the other instruments I was learning.

I have often considered pulling the Smith-Corona from the attic shelf, dusting it off, making sure it is still operable, and putting it to use with my current writing projects. The MS is now affecting my hands and I don’t know if the labor would be beneficial or problematic.

Of course, this blog post’s topic would not be complete without featuring Leroy Anderson’s comedic and masterful, “The Typewriter.”

Sunday afternoon and evening lessons were fantastic, and I met the two new voice students. They will be an excellent fit.

2 AM, the rain showers began, and maintained a steady dance tapping on the deck outside my bedroom. I slept through most of it and do not recall any thunder but the rain was very heavy at times. My body had alerted me to the approaching showers and it was unpleasant.

It’s 6:30 AM and I anticipate a morning and early afternoon filled with research, outlining, and quite possibly, writing before it is time to teach. Most of my time will probably be spent inside due to the rain showers scheduled to stay with us the entire day and into the early evening.

This summer, several family members, many current students, former students, and friends took advantage of foreign travel. I loved seeing all their photographs and reading the stories of their adventures. The countries explored were Scotland (several students and friends), Ireland (several students and friends), England (several students and friends), Spain, Italy, Greece, Mexico, Sweden, and Africa. A current student and a former student will soon return from Africa and their photographs are breathtaking.

On with the day. I rejoice I have eight hours of personal time to bury myself in the creative process.

Make it a great day!

TODAY’S ART

Van Gogh – This painting burned down in Japan during World War II.

Dreary and damp are the two best words to describe this uneventful, gloomy morning. It rained steadily throughout a large portion of the night, but it ceased by the time I woke at 6:15 AM.

Due to mowing the yard, yesterday, and this morning’s rain, I’m working from my hospital table that I’ve had for 30+ years. It’s been one of my finest purchases, having served these many years as a workplace from bed, a book stand, a catchall, a clothing repository, a laundry folding table, a dining table when eating from bed, and a place to secure revered items from growing puppies. The four older dogs are scattered about my bedroom and the round hallway while The Colonel is snuggled next to me. every now and then, some thing outside, grabs his attention, and he dashes to the edge of the deck to investigate the item.

Last night, Mama Kay, Laura, and I went to see the new movie release, THEATER CAMP, at Neon Movies. After the movie, Laura returned home while Mama Kay and I went to Jorge‘s Mexican Restaurant on Wilmington Pike in Kettering, not too far north of the Wilmington Pike and Stroop Road intersection.

THEATER CAMP is quite campy, terribly funny, and reflective of some theater people and theater situations. For me, this satirical romp was a mixture of television hits, GLEE, where the majority of things in real life just don’t happen that way, and WILL & GRACE, where the male and female leads have a lengthy, comedic/dramatic, gay/straight friendship.  

There are several things to which I must attend, but I’ve got a hankering to go to Woodland Cemetery. My body is telling me not to leave the house, but my mind and spirit are in fierce disagreement. 

Make it a great day!

TODAY’S ART:

Pierre Auguste-Renoir (1841-1919)
The Frog, 1869 (detail)
National Museum of Stockholm, Sweden

Rain. Lots and lots of rain throughout Monday. Within fourteen hours, my backyard, which was presentable, looks way overgrown and untidy. The rain did reduce the humidity and allowed cooler breezes to move across the valley and this made for incredible sleeping Monday night.

Sunday, I was telling a private middle school student about the night I heard President Nixon resign the presidency in August 1974. “Thirty-nine years ago, when I was a little younger than you, I…” I paused. I addressed my math.

Forty-nine years ago?

Forty…

Nine…

Years.

It had been two weeks since vacationing with my grandparents where we visited Monticello, saw my Uncle Ron in Norfolk, toured Mount Vernon and Washington’s birthplace, and spent several days in Washington DC where I began my two-year modeling career for political literature. We walked across the US Capital complex to the Supreme Court to pay our respects to the late Chief Justice Earl Warren, after which, we along with Congressman Elwood “Bud” Hillis, met with the still new vice-president, Gerald Ford, who would be sworn in as president within a few weeks.

The evening of April 8^th, I was down in the swimming pool at our motel in Myrtle Beach when Mother came to the second-floor rail outside our room and urged me to hurry upstairs. I couldn’t imagine why she was so commanding. It was unlike Mother.

Instead of having me change from my bathing suit to clothes, Mother wrapped me in towels and moved me to the foot of the bed to watch the television. President Nixon came on the screen, speaking from the Oval Office, announcing he would resign the following day.

The next morning, we had an early breakfast and delayed our beach time so that we could watch President Nixon’s farewell to his staff, his and Mrs. Nixon’s departure via helicopter from the South Lawn of The White House, and then the swearing-in of Gerald Ford.

Forty-nine years ago?

I vividly remember those few weeks in July and August 1974.

I may watch ALL THE PRESIDENT’S MEN, today.

Forty-nine years…

Make it a great day!

The day dragged. I’d check the clock, thinking it would be closer to a certain time and it would be two hours off.

The rain and gloomy sky did not help as it it seemed to weigh down the day all the more.

Due to some last minute lessons cancellations and some students coming early, I made it out the door in time to catch No. 17 and No. 12 so I could enjoy a Chinese dinner.

Now, I’m waiting for the next No. 17 for my return home. I did catch some beautiful sites along the way.

Emma Eleonora Meyer (Danish painter) 1859 – 1921
Et Interieur fra den Kgl. Porcellainsfabrik (Women Decorating Porcelain at Den Kgl. Porcelænsfabrik (Royal Copenhagen)), 1895
oil on canvas
58 x 80 cm. (22.83 x 31.5 in.)
signed and dated E. M. 95
private collection
© photo Bruun Rasmussen

Emma Meyer’s sister was Jenny Meyer – a well-known porcelain painter at Royal Copenhagen. It is obvious that Emma Meyer found inspiration when visiting her sister at work. One of the lovely young ladies in the present painting might even be Jenny Meyer.

Emma Meyer studied at Emilie Mundt and Marie Luplau’s drawing and painting school for women. She was also a student of Harald Foss, who taught her landscape painting, and P. S. Krøyer.

She focused on landscape painting like her close friend Louise Ravn-Hansen, with whom she also traveled. She typically painted Danish landscapes, for example from the Silkeborg area, but she also depicted landscapes on her shorter journeys abroad. Emma Meyer made her debut at Charlottenborg’s Spring Exhibition in 1885 and exhibited here, with a few exceptions, until her death in 1921. She also participated in the Women Artists’ Retrospective Exhibition (Kvindelige Kunstneres Retrospektive Udstilling) in 1920 in Copenhagen.

After the early death of her friend Louise Ravn-Hansen in 1909, a grant was established in the name of Ravn-Hansen and awarded to female landscape painters. Emma Meyer received this grant in 1916.

Source: Bruun Rasmussen

The sun has had a losing battle with the clouds, but it’s a remarkably comfortable day for early August. The muggy breeze doesn’t hesitate in its path to keep the trees dancing, the wind chimes singing, and the humidity less noticeable. A mourning dove is heard in the distance, singing her somber hymn, while some annoying bird chirps maddeningly away in the easement.

Last evening, instead of trotting out to dinner, Laura made the best enchiladas and we dined at her house. It was the perfect ending to a very long week. Thank you, Laura!

I believe I am approaching a slightly more relaxed week and I am relieved. After this past week of health interruptions and plans to attend the Soaring Sounds competition falling through, I am ready for a better week. When I finish teaching this week, Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday, I will have the next week off from teaching as schools resume around the Miami Valley. My house-management schedule with Dayton Live will kick back into a faster pace in September, so I really looking forward to this respite. I have a few downsizing items around the house I would like to accomplish.

The time for a brief nap is approaching and I am looking forward to replenishing some energy and strength before stepping into teaching mode.

Make it a great day!

TODAY’S ART…

Claude Monet 1840-1926. The Cliff of Aval, Etretat, 1885. Oil on canvas.
The Israel Museum Jerusalem.
Photo: Daniel Rabinovich

Beautiful! The summer “feels” are plentiful and I am loving my time working from the deck. The FabFive is having a superb day, too, and Chief has been enjoying some slightly measured chase time with Col. Deeds, as well as hanging together while inspecting the borders of the backyard. While the warm days continue, signs of the impending decline of summer are showing, mostly later sunrises and earlier sunsets.

I crawled into bed at 9:45 PM, Thursday, and at 2 AM I was awakened with a gripping pain in my forearms and hands. It was like an MS hug, but more like a splintering pain in my hands and lower arms. I took some ibuprofen and returned to sleep. This morning, my limbs were aching, and my legs were unsteady. There is no sign of rain in the forecast, so I am not sure what to make of it.

I anticipate a quiet weekend and have planned my quiet time with continued research, planning, and time with the pooches. More and more, I cherish my time alone, moving at my own pace, choosing to do whatever strikes me at any given moment.

I have four new credits in Audible, and I am excited to select four new audiobooks. I love being surrounded by my books, and use them often, but I truly enjoy relaxing and listening. It’s easier and more comfortable.

Continuing with my day…

TODAY’S ART…

“The Return Home” 1864 By Ferdinand George Waldmuller; Austrian painter and writer (1793-1865).

Make it a great day!