"Talky. talky. talky. talky. talk. . ." That's the first line to "Happy Talk" from South Pacific . So the Husband and I thought. This afternoon we learned the first line goes like this: "Happy talk, keep talking happy talk. . ." Yup. We have sung "Taw-kee, taw-kee, taw-kee talky talk" for over 50 years individually, and 24 together. Not to say we listened to the song yesterday. Twice. The Husband says he's shattered that the lyrics aren't "talky, talk." Go ahead: giggle, snort, snicker, chuckle, belly laugh. We have. "Talky, talky . . ."   REDWOODS, WATERFALLS, and HISTORIC KILNS One of our day trips during the Husband's birthday week in June was an adventure with good friends Missus and Mister H to Limekiln State Park in Big Sur, along the California coast, about 50 or so miles south of Carmel. (Pshew, that was a long sentence.) The park was a first visit for us all. We picnicked and hiked

i That apricot tree grew from a seed that Mama ate and planted, which came from her Blenheim apricot tree. That makes this a second generation tree, but not necessarily a Blenheim according to some experts. The apricots are delicious, Blenheim or not. ii I can forget something I thought of minutes ago because I climbed upstairs to the office so I could plop it into the computer. Where are pen and paper when I need them? iii Two Sundays ago we stayed overnight in a faraway place and it wasn't because one of us had to have surgery. Hurrah! That's what our last few overnighters had been. Not two Sundays ago. We drove straight across the state to Shaver Lake in the Central Sierra Nevadas. A lot of driving that we weren't used to, but it was well worth it. iv How fun it was to zig and zag, to go down a road with matured abandon (mature abandonment? oxymoron phrases, both?). Left, right, right, right, left. . .too late. oh well,  turn right, this road runs paralle

Hi'ya, dear friends! Big hugs to all. I thought I'd be back sooner on the blog, but you know how it goes with summer distractions. I'll write about more of them mañana. One distraction has been a local photography exhibition. A week or so before our party (the day after the Solstice), I got an email saying my three submissions were accepted and I would need to deliver them matted, framed, and ready to hang on what turned out to be the day after our party. All good, because that distracted me from getting too anxious about prepping for the party (including cleaning house and yard), as well as the party stuff sidetracked me from becoming nervous about preparing the photos for display. The photo above of an apple blossom is one that's on display in the exhibit. I took the picture in the backyard on a late Spring afternoon, then played around with Photoshop filters to get the final effect. Getting the photos ready for display took a village. A local business servic

I've been barefooting in crazy fun, hence the absence this time. :-) The Husband is continually rediscovering delights with his new lenses. For instance, whenever he comes back from throwing the garbage, he gleefully reports that he can see so many stars, bright ones, too. Wait until he sees the night sky in the Sierras. Oh my! I got brave and made an appointment with the ophthalmologist to get the process going for cataract surgery for me.  I want to see a lot of stars.   Molly the Cat seems to like the new changes we've been making both indoors and outside.  Look at her sitting on the throne, a makeshift bench in the backyard. She claimed that this evening. In May we decided to throw a party as a means to get us off our lazy derrieres. So, the past two weeks we've been cleaning, clearing boxes from rooms, moving things around, and putting up stuff on the walls. We had a wonderful superfun party last Saturday. And, now we have a clean house. As for me, I'

I like to keep a bunch of rocks nearby when I paint so that I can use up any leftover paint on them. Wouldn't it be funny if the rocks in the yard seek hidey holes because they dread the thought of being splashed with clothing? Now that would make for an interesting story. Be my guest. This afternoon I happened to notice the various faces of a green painted rock. A different story on every face. These are only four of its faces out of eight, possibly 10 or more. What stories do you see? On Mondays, when I can, I like to participate in Angie's Mosaic Monday at Letting Go of the Bay Leaf . Come check out the other bloggers with me. By the way, here's what happened at last week's City Council meeting that I was in a hurry to check out live on TV: The Council voted 3-1 to disregard the mayor's appeal to stop the construction of a project to build condos on top of retail stores and another building to house nonprofit organizations on a downtown lot that h

Tried and True? Or, an experiment? That's what I asked the Husband, who took himself out of the science fiction story he was reading for the nearly-one-too-many time, within probably 15 minutes. I am a fortunate woman because the Husband didn't ignore me, nor grunted, then ignored me or snarlingly said, "What." The Husband, instead, looked up from his book and asked, "I don't know what you're talking about. What are you referring to?" ("Now" is what I added in my head.) "What do you think?" I asked. "Should I make the olive cheese balls the usual way or try something different?" He pondered and considered (I love that) before having a level-headed discussion with a whirly-minded woman as myself. We agreed the only constant (kinda) was the cheesy-buttery dough because the types of olives and cheese rarely were the same combination as the first time I made the recipe. I could refer to the recipe, but I do

1. The outdoor work table is set up for the summer. Whooo-hooo! 2. I wore a bra all day yesterday because I had planned to work in the front yard (which didn't happen). Must not scare the citizens, you know. So different from the days of youth when I thought nothing of wearing nothing beneath a cotton ribbed tank top. 3. Flower seeds in my bra! I have no idea how long they've been wandering within that space between the cups' lace and backing. I can't get them out without cutting the lace, and that I'm not going to do until I buy another bra. The flat seeds look familiar, which I'm sure are of flowers I've grown, but what kind of flower eludes me. How did the seeds get in my bra? Probably when it got washed with a pair of shorts which pockets I didn't search. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8.   I enjoy slapping paint on wood. These pieces of redwood were once part of a wooden barrel that I broke apart earlier this year. They'll look good in the yard somewher