A Trip to Galveston

 Our Aunt Jeanie died a couple weeks ago. We knew it was coming.  She was 84, and in failing health.  Dede, Stacey, and I went to Galveston this weekend for her funeral.  We were looking forward to spending time with the family.

It's kind of strange when a matriarch dies.  Who's in charge now?

As soon as we walked in the door, multiple warm reunions commenced.  It was a comforting mingle of cousins.  Conversations were short.  We knew there'd be plenty of time for catching up later.

Then I noticed the open casket.  Oh, hey, Jeanie.  I went over and stood by her casket.  It's always unnerving seeing the empty shell of a person you loved, and seeing Jeanie all delicate and stiff, and looking nothing like her living self, gave me a strange, empty feeling.  So, we just kind of hung out for a while.  I stood there and took it all in, remembering.  When I first met her, I was 6 or 7 years old, and thought she was the bee's knees for sure.  She was beautiful and vivacious, and I'd never known anyone like her.  She had a nasal voice with a strong New Orleans accent. And she was funny. She kind of bugged her eyes at you when she was telling a story, her voice rising and falling as it went along.

She and my Uncle Herbie were a dynamic couple. Herbie was my mom's little brother, and he's still the funniest person I've ever met.  Together they were almost performance artists. When you were with them, you were part of the Herbie and Jeanie Show.  You would be immersed in laughter at the stories and songs, with Herbie frequently asking, "Can I get you anything?"  When you were in that room, you felt like you belonged there.

Herbie died a few years ago, and Jeanie just kept going.  Her energy never diminished.  A few years before we lost Herbie, we started going to Galveston's Mardi Gras.  I'm grateful for the technology that allows us to easily take videos, because we have several minutes of footage of Herbie and Jeanie dancing in the street.  It seems they took every opportunity to dance with each other whenever the moment presented itself.  They looked young in those moments.

After Herbie died we still went to Mardi Gras.  Jeanie didn't come with us to the Strand, but we always had great visits, sitting around the dining room table.  But for her 80th birthday (which was during Mardi Gras), her daughter Jenna (my goddaughter), fixed up a box on a stick that she could hold up to catch the beads being thrown from the parade floats.  The box had a sign on the front that said something like It's My Birthday!  Throw Something Good!  Yep, they threw the good stuff, and she caught it.  I think that was her last Mardi Gras. 

Her health had already begun to fail before Herbie died.  Parkinson's settled in, causing significant tremors, and sapping her strength.  She still had that marvelous energy, but just a bit less of it.  She continued to become more frail, and eventually, that was it.  She left to go dance with Herbie.

I'll write more about the funeral in my next blog post.

 

I'm a pistol

 A digression before I get started-

My Aunt (by marriage) Jeannie's brother is named John.  Is there a word for that relationship?  He's not my uncle, not my cousin.  I guess technically, he's my friend, but that doesn't seem right because he is part of my family.  Can someone get back to me on that?  Seriously, there has to be a word for it.  Anyway...

Not-my-uncle John reminded me that my godfather, and my mom's little brother, Uncle Herbie (married to Jeannie, now departed.  I mean, Jeannie is still with us.  Herbie has passed.) used to call me a pistol.  That's not a term you don't hear much in California, but in Texas, it's a thing.   My Aunt Ruth (Dad's sister, and my godmother) also called me a pistol.  This epithet was usually applied to me after I had done something precocious, or cute, or maybe a little naughty.  

When I was little, I used to tell tall tales.  It wasn't lying, really.  Not the kind of lying I did to avoid punishment.  These were tall tales that I would tell because I could see the adult I was telling them to seemed amused, and would laugh.  I wish I could remember some of them. The only thing I can remember is, in the middle of one story, (I think I said something about shooting somebody and they rolled into a lake) my aunt said, "Donita, I think you're feeding me a line of bull."  I said, "Yes, I shot the bull too and he rolled into the lake."  

I was a pistol.

There were times when I was growing up where I could be bold.  I wasn't a crazy, high-energy kid.  My older sister was, but I was the kind of kid who could sit in a corner for hours playing with my stuffed animals.  I didn't bounce off the walls.  I was quiet then.  Mostly.  But sometimes...

I wish I could remember more.  The boldness must have shown up when I was little, because I was called a pistol several times.  As I got older, my boldness showed up a bit more often.  I would say things: some inappropriate and embarrassing.  But when I got it right, people would laugh.

In junior high I was in one of those little shows that each English class would present in an assembly.  We did an adaptation of The Night the Bed Fell by James Thurber.  I played a kid who sang Onward Christian Soldiers in their sleep.  My teacher told me to sing it loudly, and as goofy as I could possibly make it.  Most girls that age would probably shy away from doing something that foolish out of fear of embarrassment.  Not me.  I belted that thing out loud and crazy.  I was offstage, but I could hear the audience's reaction. They laughed.

In high school I was involved in theater.  In those three years I had several more opportunities for goofy stage business.  In Oklahoma, I played Gertie Cummings, a girl with a loud, obnoxious laugh.  In L'il Abner I played Moonbeam McSwine, a girl who carries a pig whenever she's on stage (a real baby pig that often shit on the stage.  A diaper would have been a good idea).  I don't think I was aware then that I was cultivating my pistolness, but it was there whenever I got myself in front of an audience.

And then, decades later, I got into comedy.  Damn, that was fun.

When John reminded me that Herbie called me a pistol, it got me thinking.  And remembering.  And boy, it made me miss my Uncle Herbie, and my wonderful Aunt Ruth.  They were pistols too.  These days I'm going through a period of self discovery, and those early memories are giving me some insights into the person I am now.  Damn, I wish I could talk to Herbie and Ruth.  They loved me for  myself when I didn't know what that meant.

I love being a pistol.

Holy Beejebus, it's raining!

 We've had suck nasty heat here for the last week.  Longer, really.  It's been nasty.  And right now it's raining.  Praise be.

That's all I've got.  I'm still getting used to this keyboard.  I don't like it much. I liked my old keyboard.  More resistance.  They do get grimy, though.

See?  Told ya.  I got nuthin'. 

Better Today

 Yesterday was better.  I got some stuff done.  I made a list of the chores I want to do every day that will move me forward.  Stuff like working on the tv room floor, tearing up my carpet piece by manageable piece (along with the effing staples), working in the front yard (pulling weeds mostly), training Maisie, and general tidying up.  I didn't include stuff like exercise or housework.  I don't need to encourage myself to get to water aerobics, and no matter how many times I put housework on a list, I know it won't get done.  Why set myself up for failure?

I returned the pen pads I ordered back to Amazon.  The (hopefully) right one should be here by Monday.  Yesterday afternoon I watered all the stuff I want to keep alive during this heatwave.  Heavy, deep watering.  Jeez, my utilities bill is going to be high this month and next month.

My weight has dropped a couple pounds.  I'm hovering at around 200 pounds.  I want to nudge that down. I realized the other day that I might be sabotaging myself a bit because any number below 200 looks weird to me.  I'm not used to it.  It's pretty silly, but I think it might be true.

It's 1:30 and I haven't done anything on the list yet.  I'm off to a roaring start.  Ok, I'll go do something now.  I'll check in later.

Tech Challenged

 There's not much I can do right now on this computer.  I've been running into roadblocks.  Some of them I can Google my way out of.  Some of them are helped with YouTube videos.  I wanted to plug in the hard drive from my Mac mini, but I needed the proper adapter.  Got one, files have been transferred. At least I think they have.  I can't open any of them. When the kids are here next I'll get some help.

I bought a pen pad.  It was highly rated on Amazon, but it was way too hard to install, and I didn't like how wiggly the connections were.  Back it goes.  I ordered a Wacom pad because that's what I had before. I need a special adapter for that too.  I ordered a hub that should work.  It'll be here tomorrow.

I got a new printer, a wireless one.  I had to call tech support for that one.  I got it working, but I really don't know what I'm doing.  Nothing comes with instructions anymore.  It's all online.  The window thingy on the computer is tiny, and not all that intuitive.  I'll get it eventually.  How do I scan?  Once it's scanned, how do I get it into a file?  Once I do that, how do I save it?  It's not like it used to be.  

And fuck Apple for being all trendy and shit with the ports!  The good ol' USB connections aren't sexy anymore.  So now instead of plugging something in the way the whole world does, you have to have an adapter that will fit the tiny port on the back of the monitor.  I know I'll love this Mac eventually, but for now it's a bad boyfriend.

Today has been a frustrating combination of stumbling through set ups, and having a few minor successes that I can't find again once I dismiss them.

I found a scanning service, well, two scanning services.  One that's in Chino that can't handle larger sizes like my paintings, but can do them in a couple passes that I would have to stitch together.  Two paintings, four passes, for $25.  The other one is in Riverside that can handle large formats, but will cost $65 for two paintings and a set up fee.  I'm going with the Riverside store.

I started a sticky note that I'm keeping on my desktop with a running tally of what I've spent so far on this Etsy venture.  $1,134 so far.  I've gone for months doing my best to spend as little money as possible, so this is making me very uncomfortable.  But I can justify it a little because I've gone quite a while without a computer and printer, so it can be argued that I needed that stuff anyway.  I'm really tired of conducting my personal business all on my phone.  Now I can join the normal world again.  Jesus Christ, we're so dependent on this shit.

This is a depressing post.  Oh hey, did I mention we're headed into a majorly nasty heat wave?  Gonna be 112 on Sunday.  110 on Monday, so that's a nice cool down.  Humanity is fucked.

Life Changes

  My life needs to change, so I'm forcing it to.  I have not often been successful at making meaningful, and desired changes to my life.  Fasting is one life decision that I've managed to stick to, although not as perfectly as I'd like.  There are lots of things I'd like to change, and maybe with this new shift, I can make them happen.  I know how wishy-washy that sounds.  But it's a start.

I'm starting a business.  I need to if I'm not going to end up destitute, or have to become a Walmart greeter, of get a job slinging fast food.  I have talent, and I need to start using it to support myself.  Should have been doing that all along.  All my life I've been a late bloomer.  There are reasons for that.  None of them matter.

I'm starting a design business in this modern age, using technology I don't know much about, with habitual ways of thinking that never served me all that well.  I've been watching many, many YouTube videos on the subject, and with each one I'm learning, and at the same time I'm being overwhelmed by how much I don't know.  I can't stop now.  Too many people are pulling for me.

At the top of this page I've placed my personal motto- Right Foot, Left Foot, Repeat.  Years ago, at an amusement park in Missouri, there was a guy making those personalized calligraphy things using Chinese characters.  He couldn't speak English, but I managed to communicate what I wanted through his son.  He smiled and made it for me.  I even wrote down the pronunciation on the back.  It's been hanging in my art room, but I'm moving it to my office so I can see it as I sit at my desk. 

I need to be reminded.  I make it way too easy to allow myself to give up. 

I got my new computer.  Later today my new printer will be delivered.  I've been without these things for about two years.  I've been doing everything on my phone, and getting something printed was inconvenient.  How lame is that?  I had gotten a drawing pad, but installing it was way too hard, and the connections didn't fit well.  They made it so it's barely compatible with Mac.  I'm returning it and getting the kind I had before.  It'll be here tomorrow.  I'm getting myself a Photoshop subscription so I can get started on making my paintings all pretty, and getting them into digital form.  Eventually I'll add Illustrator so I can start designing on the computer, instead of making physical paintings.  Well, I'll still paint, because I already know how to do that.  I don't know how long it will take me to get something that's ready to upload on Etsy, but I will be working every day to make that happen.

So much to learn.  I can't stop.

 

Pontoon!

We go on a lot of camping trips to Lake Mojave.  These trips have included more and more people in recent years, which means a lot of wear and tear on the boat.  Hauling tons of heavy gear such as Easy-Ups and well-stocked giant ice chests, as well as everyone's tents and bags, firewood and fuel, means there ain't much room for humans to sit.  Moving the heavy stuff on and off the boat damages the... oh jeez, what is it called?  The trim that goes around the top of the sides.  Anyway, it's just not good for the lovely and expensive Chris-Craft.

Last summer, just as we were getting ready to leave our cove on that over-loaded vessel, Stacey lost her footing and fell off the boat, slicing a big ol' gash in her upper arm.  That was the last straw for Drew.

Stacey and Drew have been talking for years about getting a pontoon boat to haul all the gear.  We've had three and four families using the Chris-Craft, and it's a drag having to sit on top of the gear when going to and from the campsite.  Packing the heavy stuff onto a pontoon would be so much easier, with much less wear and tear on boats and humans alike.  It doesn't need to be anything fancy or pretty as long as it runs.  A couple weeks ago, Drew started looking on Craigslist.  I said I would like to also be part owner of the pontoon.  The budget was $3,000.

Last Thursday, Drew and I drove to Havasu to look at a boat.  The photos showed that it was in rough condition, but it came with a trailer (which on its own was worth a lot, as pontoons often don't have trailers) and the guy said the motor ran.  When we got there we found that the boat was in much worse condition than we thought, and Drew and the owner couldn't get the motor started.  Now, Drew can fix pretty much anything, and everything on the deck could be replaced, but Mindy would probably have killed Drew if he had brought such a big project home, and no one would have blamed her.  The guy didn't want to come down in price so we said sayonara.

On Saturday, Drew, Stacey, and I, along with Dede, who was visiting from San Luis Obispo, went to Yucca Valley to look at a more expensive boat ($4,500).  Drew was hoping to get the price down to $4,000.  When we pulled into the owner's driveway (well, front yard, really) we saw that all of his vehicles had DEPLORABLE stickers on them.  I just about barfed.  Dede and Stacey said that maybe I should wait in the car.  It was pretty funny.  Then the guy came out wearing a DEPLORABLE LIVES MATTER t-shirt!  Double barf!!!  Oh well, it's the dessert.  I'm guessing he had a meth lab out back.

Drew started assessing the important stuff and we sisters climbed aboard to take a look.  Everything was in really good shape.  The upholstery was only a year old and everything else except the carpeting looked good.  And the carpeting wasn't all that bad.  The guy said the motor was an 85hp Force, which is made by Mercury.  He said it ran kind of slow, which was ok for our needs.  The owner opened his garage to get something he needed to start the motor.  Inside was more Trump crap, as well as a Confederate flag on the wall.  Big surprise.

The motor started on the first try.  Things were looking good for this boat.  We knew we wanted it, although it galled me that we would be giving this guy a single cent.  Drew haggled with him a bit and got the price down a little.  We came back to Riverside with our new baby.

As soon as we got to Drew's we set about cleaning it up.  We were so happy that it came out looking so good.  After we were done we just sat there enjoying it.  Drew texted our friends, Dave and Christa, and they came right over to see it.  Then Stacey's friend, Michelle, came over.  Then Mindy and Tori came home.  We had a lovely little party right there.  So, of course, the next thing we did was order pizza!  It was the perfect way to end the day.

And to make it even more perfect, the next day, Drew opened up the motor to take a look.  He found that the reason it ran slow was there was a loose ground wire inside a connection, which the guy had missed.  Drew hooked it up and VROOM!  He also did a bit more research and found the actual model number.  It's not an 85 hp engine, it's 125!  He said that bought the value up another $1,500 to $2,000!

Oh, please let me call the guy and tell him!  Please, please, please!!!

So, we're looking forward to our first river trip of the year.  We'll pack the pontoon, and when the trip is over, all the heavy stuff can be stored on the boat.  And the deck is pretty big (overall length is 24 feet), so pretty much everyone will fit when we go to our special get-out-of-the-wind party spot on the lake.

Oh man, I am looking forward to some major family fun.