7.26.2016

your room is ready

Well, ok, it' not a room, it's a nook in my bedroom. So now one-quarter of the Goose is prepped for what promises to be several visitors. some of whom will be living in their Airstream. And now for the other three-quarters and the exterior. If it quits raining.

7.25.2016

a hole in the sky

On a dirt road with no traffic.
Sometimes the sky is so beautiful I can hardly stand it. And mostly I can't stop to take its picture. Have I mentioned that there are no shoulders on most of the paved roads here? In fact, quite otherwise: a dropoff. A wheel off the road and you're rolling over in a ditch. So not easy to take pix while driving.
A required stop. Note bird shit on window.

7.22.2016

keeping warm

 It was pushing a hundred degrees, so naturally I finished the sweater I started working on in winter. I was afraid Camilla would have outgrown it—after all, she heads for kindergarten in the fall, but apparently I made it just big enough. They are her favorite colors, BTW, not mine—though it does rather match the color of the floor. And my toenail polish, come to think of it.

7.21.2016

word



In yard news, the hummingbirds are back. I only had a couple, but their numbers have been increasing daily, and yesterday there were about a dozen. 
Also, remember that weird squash? I planted some seeds and a couple are already up. Summer won't last long enough for them to come to fruition, but fun anyway. 

In other news—but I won't bother you about the convention. You know all that.

However, this is a very interesting article about the inherent problem of documentary work. It goes for still photography and writing as well as for film. Keep reading til you hit the point where the (Bronx born, Puerto Rican) filmmaker says, "have you ever seen a documentary about rich white people made by poor black people?"
Here is an article about a white person doing documentary work on her own kind: Donna Ferrato.
And finally, an article that I find very troubling because I know too many women in this situation, women who because of divorce, job loss, bad planning or other factors find themselves without enough money to live. And, yes, they are mostly women. I don't know what to do about it, but I don't think eliminating government safety nets will trickle down to help them. Maybe they should move to the Ozarks.

7.20.2016

today's specials

This sign would be fairly unremarkable in the Ozarks, but for the fact that it's at a grocery store.
#grocerylist

7.19.2016

say "road trip!"

Aaand. . . Guess what the price of gas is here now!

7.18.2016

entertainment

Putting on an eight-hour lunch is no small feat, but David and Alison managed it. It was mostly a vegetarian delight, with grilled eggplant, fresh tomatoes and watermelon, humuus, corn with mint, yogurt cakes baked in swiss chard wraps and she-crab chowder. The wine pairings were doubtless supurb, but how would I know? No, I am not posting pix of the food. You gotta draw the line somewhere.

7.15.2016

help!

OK, who can think of a better caption than I can?

7.14.2016

swimming holes

OK, so I got a few more of those gourds at the farmer's market yesterday. But then, unexpectedly, we went on a tour of some of the beauty spots/swimming holes nearby. Sadly, I did not have my bathing suit (not that that would have stopped me ten years ago, but I am more considerate these days). Definitely some good spots! Fairly deserted, too. Next time: Outfits and floaties.


7.13.2016

wednesday

Headed for town. Maybe I'll find another one of those weird gourds.

7.12.2016

the bitter truth

Yikes! So Ying sold me a bitter melon (kind of gourd, I guess, read here). I have eaten it in soup, but she told me that is for medicine. Better to cut open, chop and stir fry with some chicken. Well I put it on the counter, and the next day—pop! The dragon's maw yawned. Shocking colors! I took out the seeds and chopped it up and sauteed it in some olive oil. It was bitter in a good way and a little gooey. Supposed to be a good medicine for cancer, diabetes, etc. I think I'll plant the seeds. . .

7.11.2016

the judgin'


Judges Dugan and Crider
We gathered in the Harlin Museum in an attempt to give the people of West Plains, Mo., the illusion that they have some culture. It was the photography show, and Bill Dugan had tapped photographer Dennis Crider and sometime photo critic Claudia Dowling to help him do the judgin'. Sadly, there wasn't much to judge, as Dugan had had to beg for entries. He managed to pry a handful out of the populace (and pad them out with a few of his own), and, with a bit of discussion, we arranged them in descending order.
   It was fun to see Dennis, former Quill employee, and hear about his latest project. He is to have a booth selling his wagon train prints at Branson's Silver Dollar City, which I take to be a western-themed mall. He has to wear a cowboy outfit!
   PS This post made Frank mad.  He thought I was saying West Plains had no culture. What I am complaining about is that they do not support their cultural institutions. Like the only museum in town. And actually, like Frank's former newspaper. Of course there are cultured (is that like yogurt?) people here—why do you think I keep coming back!