Thursday, March 24, 2016

Somewhat Nostalgic Parting

Since neither friend Karen nor I can quite bring ourselves to personally toss our own theses or dissertations we are doing for each other what good friends services. So tonight on the way to Peruvian dinner with my book club I will say goodbye forever to "The Role of the Miller-Unruh Reading Specialist, '71" and "Search for a Confluent Model to Improve Curriculum in an Inner City Elementary School, '76' and Karen's recycling will be a bit wordier by over 400 pages  next week.  Yeah. There will be a little more room on my garage shelf for flower arranging stuff.
If I were contemplating research now it would be on cures for blood cancers and/or what makes so many thousands of angry Americans believe in an incompetent braggart and bully like Trump. Surely they never learned to read effectively or ever took a class in civics.

Friday, March 18, 2016

Irish Eyes Are Smilin'

According to my mother whose stories were more apt to be fabricated than truth, I had a six foot red headed great grandfather, pure Irish. Could this be? I'll probably never know, but I have always had a fondness for old Irish ballads. I recently sent in my saliva for genetic testing, so maybe I'll find out.
One thing I'll say about my maternal family is that they were all poor, but they had a great time singing, especially after a few beers. And they grew and cooked great potatoes. Last night Rainbow Women had a lovely program of Irish music put on by great musicians. I so looked forward to singing along to the likes of  Long Road to Tipperary and Danny Boy, but it turned out to be more original celtic music.
Lovely in its own way, and definitely peppy. But driving the short way home I found myself singing
the songs from childhood memories, and feeling nostalgic for a simpler life (though not a potato famine).
The photo above is from a book club dinner party a couple of years ago. Whether I have Irish blood or not, I do love the merriment.  The photo below goes with next week's blog. Just a hint of what's brewing.

Saturday, March 12, 2016

Wet, wet, wet and wetter

The monsoon seems to have arrived. Wowie. The little creeks in Oakmont are roaring, and there are more toadstools in my yard than I have ambition  to count. Seasonal allergies much relieved, because no pollen could survive this drenching. It feels like Seattle, only warmer. I'm ready for some sun.

Saturday, March 5, 2016

Big Blow Coming In, Not Named Trump

February producing not enough rain to jiggle an angle worm, today's predicted storm is supposed to be a make-up whopper. Parched Sonoma County will be smiling. Just hope the trees don't blow over but I'm sure my tulips take a beating.  I' ll be staying home painting, in readiness for class I'm setting up with watercolor artist Dale Laitinen next month. I'm experimenting with his color palette, which is quite different than I'm used to. To me it almost looks like pastels. Maybe subtle is good....but I have a rain barrel full of practicing to do.