Maiden, Mother, Crone

I told the artist I liked this one best, so mine will be similar.

I told the artist I liked this one best, so mine will be similar.

My best friend is an art historian and teaches at the local university.  As such, she gets first crack at the student art up for sale.  Her latest purchase has made a green-eyed monster out of me.  This envy-provoking art is a triptych of three female torsos carved out of wood.  They’re life sized and just incredible. 

I’ve been anti-stuff for awhile and, other than some plants, this is the first thing that has had me shouting, “Damn!  I want that!  Want it now! Gotta have it! Now!”

We were having dinner on the art historian’s deck last night with the artist.  I was telling Melissa what a terrible person her art was making of me.  One thing led to another and I found myself commissioning my own triptych.  I’m not sure what the time frame is, but, Lord knows, I need to get cracking on figuring out how to pay for it.

Last night, I was quite sure that I would hang them in the master bedroom opposite my bed.  I have 20 feet of blank wall that would set them off well.  The problem is they would be up over the loft opening and the closets.  I won’t be able to touch them.  Sculpture must be touched to be appreciated – besides, I don’t get much occasion to fondle goodly-sized breasts.  So I’ve been wandering about the house looking for the best spot to showcase my beauties-to-be.  Right now, the stairwell is looking like the best choice.  That will probably change – any changes to decor require much fretting and analysis of aesthetic concerns.

I mentioned earlier that I give myself a birthday present each year.  I allot myself $100 and these are more than that (but still insanely inexpensive).  I’m turning 50 this year and a maiden, mother, crone triptych seems appropriate. (Especially given the roar of menopause.)

I’m very excited.

The Evil Empire Strikes Again

The Evil Empire Strikes Again
The Evil Empire Strikes Again

I hate Walmart. I hate this mega corporation for the standard reasons (the new millennium version of the company store), but I also hate it because I can’t seem to go in there and NOT spend a boat load of money. I’ll go in for one or two items and walk out with a car load of stuff that was deemed necessary while under the influence of the Walmart atmosphere.

In a 2008 New Year’s resolution, I resolved to quit watching Law & Order. Like too much news, L&O provoked apathy and/or despair. Uncharacteristically, I actually kept the resolution. I haven’t watched the show since a surprise snowstorm stranded me in a motel in a Cumberland Gap motel in early January of 2008.

Due to the success of that resolution, 2009 found me resolving not to shop at Walmart unless absolutely necessary. I’ve been successful. I quit doing my food shopping there. And even though they have my favorite off-brand shampoo, I’ve resisted and have run around with less than stellar hair.

Between January and May, I have made purchases at the Walmart exactly twice. Once for an emergency dog food run at midnight and once for corn tortillas (nobody else seems to carry them). [Note: I frequently have a strong compulsion for fried corn tortillas stuffed with sharp cheddar and slathered in salsa.] 

I wish it was a K-Mart blue light special.
I wish it was a K-Mart blue light special.

I have felt virtuous.

Then the masthead rose died.

The masthead, a Glamis Castle, was originally purchased at Walmart in 2008. I searched everywhere for a replacement and finally gave in and went to the Walmart. No luck. But they did have a plethora of plants on clearance that were healthy and borderline necessary for the white garden. I indulged and assuaged my feelings of guilt by telling myself that since the plants were deeply discounted, Walmart’s profit margin on my purchase was minimal. [Note: Smith & Hawken’s is shipping me a Glamis Castle rose sometime this week – I’m very excited.]

feeders
Hummingbird feeders.

Then yesterday there was the hummingbird feeder emergency. I searched everywhere for the small glass globes that I prefer. No luck. So I toddled off to the Walmart. No luck there either, but they did have these kick ass solar lights. For $4.

Oh my.

I love solar lights. I think they’re one of the truly great inventions. I’m particularly fond of the copper ones with the blue-white light. I have 8 large ones in the retaining wall bed and they’ve stood the test of the time. At present, the batteries are weakening and the light doesn’t last as long, but they are still a favorite feature in the garden. I’ve been looking for some more to place in the new beds.

And damn it all – Walmart has a nearly perfect solution at the affordable price of $4 each. They’re far smaller which will work quite well for the effect I want. I gave in and bought one. To my credit, I resisted buying the entire display until I verified that it was indeed a perfect solution.

They’re perfect. Damn it all.

Damn it all, they're perfect
Damn it all, they’re perfect.

I’m going to check Target, Lowe’s and Home Depot first (all three only marginally less offensive than Walmart, but less is less), but I suspect Walmart has a lock on them.

I have so few principles and the ones I do have are falling like dominoes. I really, really hate that I’m probably going to purchase a plethora of little $4 solar lights at the Evil Empire. When it comes to the garden (and shoes), I have little self-control.

Damn it all.

Comin’ Home

Feel so good.
Feel so good.

The Comin’ Home

I thinks
one reason
I be leavin’
alla time
is ’cause
the comin’ home
feel
so good

–Kirk Judd

After all these years, I still get a rush when I drive up the hill and see my home waiting for me.  It’s especially sweet after a week or two away, but I still get that same rush just coming home from work.

The rougher the day, the sweeter it is to see the barn sitting there like a monolith waiting for me.

Kirk Judd’s poem (above) has resonated with me since the very first time I heard him recite it.  I’ve already waxed rhapsodic about how I love West Virginia, but if I’ve left any doubt, I love this pile of wood just as much.  (Some would say in defiance of all reason.)

Last night, coming home from work, I was tired and cranky.  Just seeing the barn lit up like a Thomas Kincaid painting lifted my spirts.  Even the fact that the door had blown open didn’t dampen my spirits.  The comin home feel so good.

Where is that place that you go to that provides the sense of peace and comfort?  The cocoon that shelters you from Real Life?