Sixty-something woman shares ruminations as she plys the latter third of her life with the caveat that age entitles her to be absolutely outrageous whenever possible.
Saturday, August 08, 2015
Please, no applause...
I got up early today and got butt to morning meeting, very spiritual and inspirational, and on my way home I crossed the last of the I-can't-sleep-until-I-get-this-done list. I got the car serviced, only 1300 miles over its scheduled oil change. It is now officially geriatric, having racked up over 100,000 miles (in 12 years), and I knew this was going to be more than the usual $45.00 super-duper oil change, and yes, it cost me $132, which was actually less than I had feared. Yay, me! Yay, Ford Focus! Other recent accomplishments were paying the sales tax, always a mysterious process because I include it in the price of my work and must back it out again and I never know the current rate and can never remember all the digits I need to get into my account online. Sigh. I got that done and then wrote the last check for my upcoming trip to Italy, Greece, and Turkey. Yay, me! Then I got to the vet to get the super-duper extra-strength mega-expensive flea medication for the pooches. Yay, me! I got Punk to the groomer and he is all spiffed up and much less likely to get burs caught in his beard. Yay, me! So, I thought, after all these wondrous accomplishments, it might be a good day to walk to the art supply store, a mere mile away, and get some more canvasses for the opus I am creating for a show I am having in September in (gulp) a gallery. Except that I am still here, noodling around Facebook or playing Forty Thieves Solitaire. Well, decompression isn't a bad thing either. Oh, and here is Cat One, probably a new series. Wabisabi cat. Yay, me!