Well here I am again at the park collecting beneficial forest gases wearing my magical atheist underpants. Do do they have pictures of the world's landmarks; the Eiffel Tower and the London Bridge as in "I see London I see France I see someone's underpants"? Are they polka dotted? Do the strings hang out my armpits? No. There are no such things as magical undergarments (except for Kevlar) and I'm not really an atheist mostly.
My younger daughter tells me my hair is growing back. Maybe in a week or so I will see it too. When when there's enough of it we are both going to dye our hair blue. Then I will be one of those blue haired ladies haunting Roland Park, terrifying small children and cutting in line at the library.
Of all the 260 acres in the Arboretum, lately I find myself sitting in a small enclosed garden that replicates a Baltimore rowhouse garden. It's shady and it has a bench and it reminds me of my mother's garden in Charles Village. There are small juniper trees here and rhododendrons. It just needs a couple of cats.
Sent by Martha
After two hours of tracking tiny lights and deciphering blurry letters this morning I was delighted to be told I have cataracts. That's much better than tumors in my brain impairing my vision or crowding my eyes, as I had feared. On the other hand the basement flooded again and the show I just took down was being staged for storage there.
Today I took the younger daughter to the pediatrician for a pre-college check up. The doctor came out with the forms we brought with us to tell me goodbye. My daughter has aged out of her practice and has a recommendation for an adult practice. "You helped and supported us, we were scared too!", I said, reminding her that our daughter was premature-a micromini baby. Thank you doc!
This afternoon I decided I need more scrap wood for my artwork. The kind of neat tidy 2 x 4 ends that you used to see in buckets by the tablesaw at the hardware store. They don't let you have those anymore . So, I went for a little drive listening for the sound of motorized saws. At two houses I pulled over to see also open doors exuding clouds of dust and boxes. At the rear of these houses I was encouraged to forage for scraps but in Planet Rich it was no, no, no. I mean, it's a half million dollar rehab. By that time I had enough for my present needs but the scraps need further trimming.