Patt with Two T's

  Yesterday I posted with a picture of Mom at 90, but I think she'd prefer to be remembered with her big smile, red hair and party dress.  She had one hell of a figure--never more than 120 lb. in her life.  Her hair was dyed bright red for years and people actually asked Mar and me if we dyed ours black.  Duh.  Her final suitcase was locked last night around 8 pm, and she departed the station.  She finally got her wish after waiting so long, and I'm glad for her.

Mom's suitcases are packed and she's ready to depart the station.  She doesn't have many;  I helped pack the last one.  It's also ready, but not yet locked.   One suitcase is filled with childhood memories up until she left home to get married at age 23.  She came from good parents who lived their lives with their only child in San Francisco, then Burlingame.  They lived well, but didn't have a lot of money.  They were a core group of three until Dad, then my sister and me.  Her parents died very young--both in their mid 60's--and within 10 days of each other.  One of "natural causes" and one by her own hand.  Very sad time for Mom who then got thyroid cancer and her favorite boxer Rex died all within a few months.  She remained composed through it all and never let her children see her sadness.  The largest one is 50 years old and is all about her marriage to my dad.  Anyone who knows me has heard me say they got up smiling and went to bed s

  Provocative title, yes?   It's the working title for my memoir of life with my sister.  Marianne died 12 years ago from breast cancer and my brother-in-law Brock asked me a few months ago to consider writing about growing up together for his boys.  A few weeks later, I was in Foster City with my cousin and told her about a favorite 4th of July there with Marianne.  Driving home, I realized I'd started the memoir and since my friend Judith was also writing one and starting it at a retreat in Tahoe in Sept, I might consider joining her.  Judith heard about it from a friend of mine who knows Jennifer, the retreat leader.   Her site says she'll pamper us with wine and food and all we have to do is write.  I emailed Jennifer and got myself on her list of 3 people, the max she takes.     I got inspired because that morning, before I left the house, I talked to Brock and mentioned one thing on my list--"Who him name?"   and where that phrase originated in our family.  

 What's been keeping me balanced lately--new creativity finally emerging: IDEA FOR NEW LOGO Inspired by Terri Carol's beautiful focal bead Given a challenge to make a versatile necklace that can incorporate the centerpiece.  Now on sale and in the window at Bare Necessities in Burlingame. Kumihimo bracelet The next part of my Saori weaving (free form).  I'm hoping it instills thoughts of the ocean and mountains and sunsets....   Gearing up for open studios art sale, so next, I need a good picture of my work for the brochure.  That's my weekend project--every year I try something new and have never found one that shows all I do that works for me.

 I had an appointment yesterday to show my work to a woman who's in charge of a gift shop at a new art museum.  She has limited space and only wanted to see a few things.  Since I weave, knit, and make jewelry, I wanted to show her more just hoping she'd find it interesting enough to market.  She did not.   She did take two woven scarves--one of the gorgeous turquoise metallic and beaded scarves and one rayon rose-colored.  She liked the woven and felted purses, but wants them in the fall when she'll make room for them.  No jewelry.  And I made a new piece just to bring in for her to see.   I know I sound a little whiny, but I can't help it.  After being rejected by the first juried show I entered, my ego is a bit deflated.  Plus, I've given out the information to other artists in my group, and their work is all over the gift shop.   I seem to be very good at promoting and helping others, but not so good for myself.  Here's one of the pieces she took to se

  Last night Judith came for dinner and mahjongg.   It was our first regularly-scheduled maj night since Larry died, so very poignant.   Our last date was supposed to be February 16, but he was in the hospital.  As I set up table and got out the set, I started feeling melancholy, and tried not to let my emotions overwhelm me.  I haven't written about losing our dear friend Larry because I feel it is private.  I did post his obituary so our former students would know.  I still do not want to use the blog to write about my feelings, but will say we miss him very much.  As a couple, they were our role models, and she continues to be a role model now.   Judith is a remarkable woman.   One thing we always enjoyed with our friends was hearing their stories of their 52+ years together which kept us laughing.  We have since added our own stories after traveling and spending much time together, and enjoy the memories we've created.  Last night, we laughed a lot about our shared memori

 Excitement was mounting all week for the Maverick's Surf Competition which hadn't happened for 3 years.  They thought they'd have the swells last year, but then didn't call it, but one lone food truck arrived in hopes of catching early gawkers, and I caught up with it.  I was curious because we had just returned from Peru, and this truck specialized in Peruvian sandwiches...so I tried their lomo saltado.  After ordering, I noticed business cards showing their other restaurants, one of which is a local high-end favorite, La Costanera.    I brought it home since I was only 5 minutes away and enjoyed every bite of the delicious meat, coleslaw, and fries on their housemade bread.  An unusually-flavorful sandwich, which I then craved for the next year.  So while everyone else was excited about the surf contest, I was excited to learn the Sanguchon food truck would be back in Princeton!  I posted about it on Facebook and many friends asked me why it was so good.  My hopes

  AS I board, I wonder whom my seat-mate will be this time.  I am delayed at the gate due to a missing coupon I wasn’t issued, so the flight is already full.  My seat-mate is engrossed in his book, and doesn’t look up.  I don’t speak either.   Within minutes, he is asleep with his open book on his lap.  I sneak sideways glances, then openly stare and check him out.  He is perhaps a little older than I, nothing particularly inspiring in his looks.  No wedding ring.  Now I wonder about his reading material, but can’t see without leaning over into his space.  He snores quietly.   Because we’re traveling internationally, one could guess a language barrier since he doesn’t talk, but when asked chicken or lasagna, he speaks English as well as I.  At the sound of the food cart, he awakens again, but merely reads until the meal arrives.  I am also reading, but still curious.  We eat in silence, good at ignoring each other by now.  And when the meal is over, we pick up our books and rea

This is delicious--we started dreaming up new ideas for it, including using celery root, different cheeses, broccoli, etc.  The recipe was in the SF  Chronicle a couple of weeks ago.   And now, trying it for breakfast.