a grand day. made grander when my neighbor hollered over from her yard to see if i wanted her to go pick us up a stack of carne asada tacos from the truck down the street. huh? hello. do bears poo in the woods? OF COURSE i want that. yes! make that hells yes!
apparently i am obsessed with forks & spoons. you eat with them. so figuring out why is not really not too big of a mental leap. art, furry animals, sunshine, a nice carne asada taco with a double corn tortilla stuffed with meat, onion, cilantro, lemon juice, dash of salt. these are the things the cat lady up at moss cottage digs.
now it's evening and i'm getting ready to take ipad to the couch and watch more videos from lynda.com. i highly recommend if you have any techy nerdy genes and enjoy gobs of information about how your new CS5 (or other software) works. i'm learning so many things i don't know if i can fit them all in my nutcracker.
i am a self- taught photoshopper for many moons. there are major gaps in my learning core. but now i'm patching them all up thanks to lynda.com. they aren't paying me a red cent to say that, but i appreciate good business with good customer service. when i find a place that treats me right i like to crow about it. when i find a place that stinks, i slash tires .
i am always grateful for the nice people who pop in on this blog to say hi from time to time…like ellen from growing gills. she sent me the coolest email about william stafford. i posted his poem yesterday. anyway…she gave me permission to share:
Life moves in mysterious ways!
When I was in high school in Honolulu, I had an English teacher who opened up the world of poetry to me. Miss Durbin was her name. She was rather formidable, but poetry ran in her veins and she planted the seed of poetry love in my little brain.
Now, comes the amazing part. I left home in 1960 (yes, I am that old) to go to school in Portland, Oregon…Lewis and Clark College to be exact. One of my professors in Humanities was none other than William Stafford. Oh, how I loved that gentle, gentle man.
Oh, Mary Ann, what a gift. I can still see him. He wore blue chambray work shirts, unassuming ties, and baggy pants. Soft spoken, calm and reassuring, that was William Stafford. I think that I have all of his books of poetry and some of Kim Stafford, his son.
If we are at all fortunate in life, we have tucked away in our hearts and memories a small number of precious jewels. The jewel that is Dr. Stafford shines brightly for me.
It is actually sunshiny today here where gills grow by leaps and bounds with the relentless mizzle that is spring in my patch of Oregon. I am picturing you outside of Moss Cottage, surrounded by all the beautiful flowers and the cat posse.
Oh, the joy of it all.
p.s. kim baxley your passwords were sent and returned. twice. i have a carrier pigeon if that would be better for you…? just let me know.