Wednesday

(The photos are from yesterday, at the end of my studio time, more on that at the end.)

It's been raining for the last two and a half days. Yesterday it let up long enough for the hot air balloons to go up and go up they did, sixty or more of them, hanging over the city in the late morning. It's October, that's what happens. There are new, egg-shaped hot air balloons and I don't like them. One crossed the highway in front of us as we were on our way to Judi's and I said as much to Dave. I'm not big on change, turns out. 

Which brings us to the new house. We're hosting a SECOND FUCKING DOG right now. One was too many and for the next week or so we have two. The cat has been confined in the bedroom along with all my guilt over confining the cat, who used to roam everywhere, the neighborhood, all his haunts, to one bedroom and bathroom. (He can come out into the hallway and a second bathroom, but it means crossing in front of the pet gate and potentially drawing the attention of both dogs and he's decided that it's not worth it.)

Dave has gone off to run errands and the dogs have alternatively gone to the low window in the dining room to look for him and slept near the front door so they can be the first to greet him when he gets back. They follow him around like little shadows. Now that he's gone, they don't know what to do with themselves. My job is feed them treats when I'm not yelling at them to stop acting like dogs. This is why I like cats. Cats are not so unintentional when they cause destruction. Somehow that's easier for me to deal with.

I'm feeling very surly today, I think. Too many rainy days. Too many clouds. Too much change.

I pointed out to Dave that both dogs come from places where the television is on during waking hours (and sometimes beyond) and we brought them here to where there are no televisions. Period. They're probably going through some kind of media detox the way people do. The sudden loss of constant stimulation can be a thing. I started playing some background music on Alexa this morning and that has cut down somewhat on the constant whining and pacing.  (When I was staying with Olive and Lester along with the new-old dog, I turned on the television set one night and the new-old dog went and sat in front of it, watching. I sent Dave a photo. That poor dog had an owner that had a television in each of the three bedrooms and one in the living room and the din went onat top volume at all hours of the day and night. Can you imagine? It must have been like living in a sports bar. I'd sooner live next door to a railroad crossing.)

The mountains have disappeared into the mist and fog and low-hanging clouds. I always wonder if people who come here for the balloon fiesta when the weather is like this think that the weather is like this all the time. I think the same thing when I take the train somewhere and go through the industrial parts of a town or city (since the passenger trains use the same rails as the freight trains) and I have to remind myself that the whole town or city couldn't possibly be endless warehouses and concertina wire-topped, ten foot chain link fences.) We're a sunny city, I mean to say. This is the anomalous condition. 

Both dogs have settled down for the moment (after a handful of treats each). I'm afraid to move a muscle because that just gets them started again. Sting is singing to them from the Alexa speaker--"Alexa, play 80's music"--about Roxanne and the red light.

For lunch I had guacamole and salsa and a handful of broken tortilla chips from the bottom of the bag. I'd love nothing more than to have a huge, salty, meat-laden pizza delivered to the house and to eat the whole thing. It's that kind of day. (Dave says that when his sister once tried to have a pizza delivered here from the nearest local pizza joint, it took over two hours.)

Here's how time works: The local pizza place was started by a man who taught at the high school that Dave and I attended. We used to know him and he was kinder to us than either of us deserved. He had a couple of potential side-gigs. One was making pickles. One was this pizza place. There's so much more to this story, but I'm tired. I'll tell it another time. 

(The photos are of the latest sculpture, Fifth Decade. To me, it looks like I'm out of practice, but that's okay. The first two skulls/heads (the big, side-eyeing one with the more menacing dark head coming out of it) will be topped with the three (skull, rabbit, ghost) that are in the last (blurry, sorry) photo. It came out of bisque and I began to paint more, expanding the irises in the larger eyes and changing their colors, adding black to the second skull, painting in the ghost's mouth and eyes, making the third skull's eyes violet, like Elizabeth Taylor's supposedly were. The larger head will eventually be covered in pale gray script. The middle head will have dark blues and purples added in to add depth to the black, except for the eyes which will remain pitch black with a clear glaze over them to make them shiny. The third skull will have sugar skull/Dia de los Muertos designs all over. The rabbit will remain mainly white and pink. The ghost's bow will eventually be bright red.  

Plans. There are always big plans.