totally random

Put on a happy face

In between thundershowers, the sun pokes through. Spring may very well arrive after all. And if my social calendar is any indication, I’m beginning to emerge from hibernation. I’m fairly giddy with anticipation, if for no other reason than to take my eyes off my dilemmas and focus on the good.

Speaking of good, I’m planning a trip to the airport this afternoon. My friends will be arriving back from China with their little girl. It will be fun to see her in person … and welcome her home …

Also fun? Boise Music Week.  At least, that’s what I’ve been told.  All these these years and I’ve been to a handful of events. It’s usually the first week of May, which always manages to be packed. But this year, thanks to Wicked conflicts, it’s a week early. And that means I’ll be going with my aunt and madre to see Bye Bye Birdie.

I must admit, I knew nothing when my aunt extended the invite. Well, I knew the name–and the fact that it was a musical. I know, I know, where have I been all my life? I’m just not a musical connoisseur. They’re too iffy; they can be fun, or they can be painful–there’s rarely middle ground.

So I set out to do a bit of sleuthing. Seeing how this particular musical is set in 1958–and I just so happen to be a throwback–I’m sure to enjoy it … except maybe for the screaming girls … which I’ve never understood. Even then, with good company, it’s bound to be some good times.

Now, if I can just stay awake past my bedtime…

Raindrops on roses

If I were President, I’d implement Rain Days … should you awake to rain falling in sheets, right outside your window, you could snuggle in knowing the day was yours alone …

… you could settle back into that dream. After all, how many times does a dream begin to make sense? You shouldn’t be left hanging … especially not on a rainy day …

… meetings for the next day would be postponed–since preparation must take a back seat to the likes of drinking vast cups of coffee … reading a good book … writing … drawing … tinkering …

… you could sleep in late, daydream, and nap in the afternoon if you wished …

… you could sing in the rain; or puddle jump the cares of the world away …

While clouds cried, you, my friends, could rejoice.

But alas, a President I am not. I suppose it’s for the best–I have enough grey hairs as it is. Plus, I suppose even Rain Days would not be all they’re cracked up to be. If I slept in, I would miss the raindrops on the Lenten Roses, which look suspiciously like teardrops. You know, Lenten Roses–Hellebores–are sometimes called the Christmas rose.  Legend has it, a young girl cried because had no gift to give to the Christ child; from her tears sprang the rose.

It just might be enough inspiration to get me through all I need to accomplish today; I may even have enough time for one or two things I love.  Because you know, that would be pretty great too.

Herein lies my weakness

True love or no, this Valentine’s Day seemed to shine above the rest.  There was but one unfortunate situation…

I had a few errands to run, you see–just a few.  “The home” … the grocery store … Cost Plus.  With my mission mapped for each, I opted to go “as is.” 

Now, many moons ago I was the recipient of what, quite possibly, may be the worst haircut known to man {you know it’s bad when the lady taking your money suggests you buy a wig, because “they’re coming back in style now”}.  You know how people always say it will grow back?  Totally not true.  There are wee hairs on each side of my head that went into shock and never full recovered.  They’re stunted.  Seeing how I’m lazy, and rarely take the time to straighten my hair, you won’t see them.  However, on those special occassions when I do see fit to spend OVER AN HOUR on my hair … and then promptly pull it back into a pony … those hairs stand to attention.  That’s right, straight out to the sides of my head, as if signaling some foreign life form. 

Such was my state yesterday.

Oh, and I was wearing a Minnie Mouse t-shirt, so there’s that. 

Naturally, I saw a friend whom I haven’t seen for years.  A friend who, I might add, always looks classy.  Sigh. 

But other than a witnessed bit of unstylish behavior, it was a lovely day–one that began with friends and coffee, and ended with dinner and the A-Team.  

And you?

I’ll tell you now, my mom had a good day.  Apparently, her employer provided free chair massages from a guy who looked like Johnny Depp.  JOHNNY DEPP, PEOPLE!  Can you even imagine?  A guy that hot–and he knows how to give a good massage?!  Total unfair advantage.  I would be done {or undone, as the case may be}. Seriously.  I actually stayed with a guy much longer than I should have, all because he gave incredible foot massages. 

There it is … out there … my weakness.  Lord have mercy if I ever stand between you and a cruel fate–especially if our captors come after me with a masseuse.  I will rat you out faster than a Bugatti on the open road.   

Perhaps it best I stick with eating my weight in chocolate.  It’s safer that way.

With a pack on my back

I’ve been informed by my wee nephew {who just so happens to be an expert on such matters} that my new robe makes me look like Santa Clause.

Sure, you could say I’ve sipped one too many eggnog lattes; but I prefer to think it’s simply the fact that my robe is mauve and luxuriously soft.  It’s one of the many fabulous gifts I received this Christmas.  I received all sorts, you see–fine teas and coffee, festive napkins, candles–necessities for making a new year bright.

And look what I found under the tree …

{The Peasant by ?}

This being a print I completely fell in love with a few months back.  It was hanging on a wall at an estate sale… a wall I revisited several times.  Can’t you just see this picture displayed in a large comfy library–next to the floor to ceiling bookshelves, complete with wheeled ladders?

Of course, since I don’t have a large comfy library–but do have bills–I opted to leave it behind.

So imagine my surprise when I unwrapped Santa’s gift to find the greatest treasure of all!

The back states that it’s “The Peasant” by Brueghel.  For those unfamiliar, Pieter Brueghel the Elder was a 16th century Flemish painter.  It is said he would dress up as a peasant to mingle and get the most accurate images, thus earning him the nickname, Peasant Brueghel.  Of course, his children were artists as well … artist who, occassionally, even copied their father’s work, making it somewhat difficult to know who painted what.  And, while I’m no art expert, I have seen a few Brueghel’s … but never a portrait.*

What I do know, however, is the artist painted him perfectly.  Certainly he’s a kindly peasant … lending a hand where needed and sneaking sweets to the children.  You’ll hear him hum as he works … it’s always slightly off tune. Though he wouldn’t hurt a fly, he has an ornery streak … which shows itself in each unsuspecting prank …

I will love him and name him Bartholomeus. *sigh*

And what treasures did you unwrap this Christmas?

*Update: There’s a reason I’ve never seen a painting like this of Brueghel’s … see the comment, if you will …

And winter begins…

Happy first day of winter, my friends!

Any big plans?

We will be bringing in winter at the Warhawk Air Museum, thank you very much.  Maybe lunch.  Maybe hot cocoa.  Maybe a few Christmas lights.  If I’m lucky I’ll even get some Christmas wrapping wedged in there somewhere.

And while there’s not a whole lot of snow in the valley, the hills surrounding us are white.  As a matter of fact, last night we went to my dad’s for dinner and this was the view from their backyard.  We barely said hello before my sister-in-law, brother, and I grabbed our cameras and traipsed outside.  As you may notice, I was in serious need of a tripod.  Sigh.

With that, I’m off to get things done—at the very least, fun and frivolity.  And I hope the same of you …

xoxo