Tulips today

Dear Friends,
Tulips today make the gloomy rain OK.
Love,
k

From the coffee shop window

Dear Friends,

When you visit Sacramento you can see this view too — out the window from the coffee shop around the corner.  I was sitting at the window with a cup of rose-hibiscus tea, looking across Capitol Mall. And that bank building across the street isn’t exactly pink.

Love,

k

Nose in a book

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

It’s taking a while to get my life together, but I think it’s a pretty good sign that I’m reading books again. Duh! I’ve always loved books, yet I stopped. But lately I’ve been carrying a book around with me, and today I finished it. OK, it’s The French Art of Not Giving a Sh*t, by Fabrice Midal. It’s about meditating the easy way. You might like it.

Love,

k

Just flowers

Dear Friends,

Here are flowers I drew and the pitcher of lilies, etc., that inspired them.

Love,

k

We got the Folsom Blues

Written last night:
Dear Friends,

Today Zing and I finally visited the town of Folsom that is home to the prison that Johnny Cash made famous.  It’s just a half-hour northeast of here, on the way to the mountains. I wanted to find an art gallery there that will host a quilt show soon. There it was -- between the police station and city hall, edging a park and small zoo. Then we drove around; on the edge of town we passed the monstrous dam on the American River; the dam makes a reservoir called Folsom Lake. Bordering the main road are green fields that look pretty until you notice they are sealed off by high fences topped with double swirls of barbed wire. (The prison is a main employer here, a couple walking their dog in town told me.) There’s also a state park and bicycle paths and something called the Johnny Cash Trail. When we got to the center of town I parked on a hill, remembering to turn Rosa’s front wheels to the curb so she wouldn’t roll away. Then Zing and I walked the few business blocks that resemble the set of an old-fashioned western movie. 

You might detect that I didn’t love Folsom. It must be the prison, because other than that it’s a peaceful, unassuming and nature-oriented place.

Love,

k

Zing and horse behind the Folsom police station

When Mary saw this picture she said, I don’t think Zing liked it either.♥️

The Folsom Hotel

Not too boring after all

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

Two things happened today.

1. The HOA meeting. Booooooring, right? But tonight I decided to ask questions about the boring stuff, and other people spoke their minds too, and it was about as fun as a meeting can get. Then: 

2. Two friends who live here, came for dinner after the meeting. (Don’t tell them, but it was leftover chili from Saturday.) We rehashed the meeting over the chili, topped with avocado, onions (soak chopped onions for an hour in ice water to reduce their odor), grated cheese, and chopped cilantro. Rice pudding with cinnamon and lemon zest for dessert.

Then Zing and I went for a walk and on the sidewalk we met someone from the building and again we rehashed the meeting. It reminds me of city politics, but extremely local. I had fun.

Here’s the dinner table after my friends left. Pellegrino water, wine, white napkins, and Zing!

Love,

k

People so passionate bring tears to my eyes

Dear Friends, 

I loved being in the Women’s March today! Just being in that crowd among people so passionate brought tears to my eyes. Thinking especially of the women in my family…

Love,

k

Where to paint a poem?

Written last night:
Dear Friends,

Today was the first poetry Thursday of 2018 at the library, and the subject was time. Here’s a poem I read. I like it so much that in Tallahassee I painted it inside the medicine chest so I could read it every morning as I brushed my teeth. I left that crazy medicine cabinet there when I moved to Sacramento. Here there are drawers and mirrors, so I’ve got to paint this beautiful poem somewhere else.

Love,

k

It’s the Dream by Olav H. Hauge

It’s the dream we carry

that something wondrous will happen

that it must happen

time will open

hearts will open

doors will open

spring will gush forth from the ground–

that the dream itself will open

that one morning we’ll quietly drift

into a harbor we didn’t know was there.

from Borealis (March/April 2002), translated from the Norwegian by Robert Hadin

Newly familiar Napa

Written last night:
Dear Friends

It’s only an hour to Napa. I drove there early this foggy morning for an art quilt workshop, and was surprised at the brisk 7 a.m. Sunday traffic. All of us heading to church!

I was wondering if I’d see any fire damage in the hills on my way — None! (“Because of the rain, the foliage has come back strong right away,” one woman said.) Downtown Napa along the river looked the same as it did when I visited last summer. I’m sure I’d see more burnt-out places farther north and west. One woman who lives in the area said they were exiled from home for a week, then returned to a place that still reeks of smoke, feeling grateful and also angry  — at PG & E (the power company that many blame for sparks and dry brush near their lines.)  I also discovered that Napa is a plain little town with a strong Mexican edge and a center that caters to tourists. And of course, I walked across the bridge over the Napa River.

I love to be getting to know my home state!

Love,

k

Perhaps a glass of wine is not the answer

Written last night:
Dear Friends,

After a day doing business, shopping at the mall, meeting friends for a glass of wine … now I’m watching the news — and drinking a second glass of wine. Troubling news is normal these days. Glad you’re here!

Love,

k

My poinsettias are sad

Dear Friends,

Are your poinsettias sad?

Mine are.

… but they still light up the room

Love,

k

Pears and apples

Written last night:
Dear Friends,
I want to draw every day. Today it was pears and apples. After I drew them I peeled, chopped and cooked them to make pear-applesauce. The end.

Love,

k

2017 Highlights

Written last night:
Dear Friends,
Most years I keep tabs on my personal highlights. Here’s 2017:

• Got settled in Sacramento
• Verna’s Girls (Verna Krumm — Mom) met in Key Biscayne MLK weekend. 
• Drove to Tahoe, Grass Valley, Placerville, Calaveras County, Amador County, Redding, Carmichael, Yosemite, Apple Valley, Lodi, Napa, Yountville
• Drew a lot
• Got some routines: exercise, farmers markets, chamber music
• Weddings — Gretchen and Rich; Jeffrey and Megan
• Visitors stayed here (all friends/no relatives YET!)
• Discovering Sacramento poets
• Miami visits
• American River walks
• Ukulele lessons
• I’m reading books
• I began to acquiesce

Nope— I still don’t know the difference between I-80 and I-5, and I got lost on my way to Ikea yesterday. Maybe in 2018!

Thank you for being here in 2017. Here’s to 2018!

k

He trusted me

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

Plans are made to be broken, right? What I was going to do this week won’t happen. Meaning I'm now free to attend Craft Napa next weekend, which is tempting, whether for a daylong workshop in fabric painting, or two days.  I’ll think about it tomorrow. 

The farmers market under the freeway is smaller now, with the growing season in hiatus for a couple of months (See — I’m learning about this place!) I went anyway, to pay the man at Bariani olive oil booth. Before Christmas I ordered some to be sent as gifts, and he (I think it might be Mr. Bariani) wouldn’t take my money. He said the oil was being pressed in the coming week, and that he’d send it on to the addresses I gave him.  I could pay later. When I told him I’d be out of town for a couple of weeks he shrugged. Today he smiled when I arrived, said he’d sent the oil to the addresses I’d given him, and I paid him. He trusted me. I made two more orders today. He said I can pay next week. 

Here’s the Sacramento River and the Tower Bridge, two days ago. Today was gloomy and gray. 

Love,

k

A guard guarding a guard

Written last night:

Dear Friends
Happy New Year!

Today I was tired, like lots of people (maybe you?!) ... End of holiday ... back to routine…

Before, I would have said routine is boring, but now I realize I am lucky to have one. It has taken a while, and is still by no means solid!

Not much to say — but here’s an eye-opener that Zing and I ran into at the Arena the other day: It moves, it glides. 

This drone/egghead thing was skimming along in front of the arena, looking weird. 

“What is it?” I asked a guard standing there. 

“A guard,” he said.

“What??”

“It’s new,” he said.

The human guard told me the machine records and reports: what? I’m not sure. But if something bad occurs anywhere in the Arena vicinity, it gets the word out. Action happens.

“What’s its name?” I asked.

“It doesn’t have a name,” he said. “But it’s really nice. You can talk to it. You can say hello and it answers you.”

“It’s after your job,” I said.

The human guard shrugged.

Love,

k