Showing posts with label FFP. Show all posts
Showing posts with label FFP. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 19, 2025

Walking Downtown

Off we go on a walk to Stevie.

Walking to Stevie (the wonderful statue of local Blues legend Stevie Ray Vaughn on the south side of Lady Bird Lake) is one of our "standard" walks.

We almost always cross the pedestrian bridge over Shoal Creek at Third Street (see above) and walk through the Seaholm Plaza.

Seaholm Plaza, where a power plant once was.

We continue down the steps in Seaholm Plaza to Second Street.
Down the stairs to Second Street.

Then it's across the Pfluger Pedestrian Bridge.
Across the Pfluger.

And over to the trail by Vic Mathias Shores.
Along the trail with the skyline across the lake.


We take an obligatory picture with Stevie.
Stevie.

Sometimes we turn around. But today we briefly went to the lobby of the Hyatt Hotel and then continued to the Congress Bridge.

Steps to Congress Bridge.

Crossing the Congress Bridge is quite a view.
Capitol View.

One has to pass Veracruz All Natural without getting a taco.
Mural by Veracruz.

Today we walked on the south side of César Chavez to Colorado as we headed home.
Walking toward the Buford Tower.

Along the way today we noticed some Elon protest.
Elon.
We also noticed that there is a drag brunch at Jo's. Drag won't be allowed at The University of Texas. So we need more drag everywhere.
Drag Brunch at Jo's. Second Sunday of each month.

And it is spring!
Redbuds are the harbinger of Spring there but all kinds of things are blooming and budding. 



Tuesday, December 11, 2018

Many Prompts I Couldn't Follow

I didn't write a blog entry yesterday. I started one. The title was: "Objects of Desire." This was an old topic that I've written about until I seem to have exhausted my enthusiasm for it!

Yesterday I really had no excuse for not writing. I have, after all, made a list of over a hundred topics for my 'by the numbers' memoir. And I never showered or got out of my sweats that I slept in. I didn't leave the apartment. I put a few pieces in the jigsaw. I worked crosswords. My husband made some lunch and dinner. I wrote a few Christmas cards and letters and reviewed my bank accounts and bills. I read some of the three newspapers that arrive every day.

But I just couldn't write a blog entry!

I did get out of my jammy sweats to go out and play tennis today. And I took a shower. And I voted in a runoff election. We walked around taking a few pictures at hotels and other businesses of decorations. (See above.)

I still have lots of topics I want to explore: my boycott of football; the dynamics of keeping up with friends; graffiti; my aches, pains, injuries, and medical nihilism. But not today.

Wednesday, December 31, 2014

A Most Surprising Year

My husband squatting down to open a present the first Christmas we were married (1976). My brother-in-law's parents are in the background. This is the same Christmas pictured here in one of my earlier Holidailies entries.

Looking back at 2014...it was so predictable. We planned trips, we took them and they pretty much went as planned. Amazingly so. The world was a mess. Wars and terror and accidents and protests and politics. We continued our retirement occupations, FFP writing for a neighborhood newspaper, me playing tennis. We socialized. FFP gave up a couple of obligations to non-profits. We took our walks, went to the gym but not often enough, maintained our Austin daily photo blog. We socialized, we met some new people and caught up with old friends. People died that we knew, People we knew had children. Time marched on but our lives stayed inside the lines. Not a bad thing. But not so interesting.

Now in 1976, 38 years ago, my life was full of change. I'd moved to Austin in late 1975 to take a job. I was single and ready for adventure. I interviewed for a job in Wisconsin I think. It had been three years since I'd returned from my 'tramping around Europe' adventure and I was ready for something new. I'd taken the job in Austin and met FFP shortly after arriving around Thanksgiving 1975. We started seeing the town as I prepared for a job that involved a lot of travel. I rented a P.O. drawer to hold mail while I was gone. I had a small apartment. I started the traveling. We impulsively decided to get married and squeezed in a JP wedding in the living room of his little house between our work obligations. So in 1976 I turned 28 and found myself married. Between my work travels we went to work together (he worked at the same company) and socialized with his vast network of friends. I sadly don't remember much about Christmas 1976 but since my mom shot these pictures I'm thinking that we went to my parents' house (in Mesquite, near Dallas) and had Christmas. FFP had the long hair of the day. It was not at all gray. He could still squat down AND get back up. The year had been full of changes. Life seemed to be going by at a dizzying speed. And it would just continue. FFP would start a business in 1977 and I would change jobs. Then we would buy a bigger house.

Now the years are less packed with changes since we made the move downtown and lost all our parental units. And, honestly, that's not so bad!

Holidailies is drawing to a close. I'll post tomorrow with a wrap-up on how I did on my holiday resolutions and also with a wrap up of the holiday cards I've received. (Of course, there are always some late entries.) Then I will doubtless start disappearing from this space again if form holds. It has been sort of fun through December to impose this duty on myself to at least sit down and type during the day some time. I also allowed myself to read other blogs, particularly Bev Syke's "Funny the World" and that's been a pleasure. I've dipped into her blog over the years and feel like I sort of know her although we have never met.

Monday, November 17, 2014

Holiday Resolutions

That's FFP last year posing with the Santa at Headliners Christmas party.

I used to be a big proponent of New Year's Resolutions. It just seemed so hopeful to be able to stop on a dime and change your life in some way (or ten or more ways) by just promising it to yourself. But the post-resolution depression soon set in as you realized there was nothing about January 1 that promised change more than any other day. In fact, a day when everyone lies around recovering from too much food, drink and revelry while watching football? Yeah, a day best lost to the wasted bucket rather than a new beginning.

In the past I'm pretty sure I bailed on New Year's Resolutions and made Holiday Resolutions. Some time prior to Thanksgiving but after all the stores were already hawking holiday stuff and arguing over whether to be open on Thanksgiving Day I decided what I would do in the period stretching out to the day after New Year's Day. I can't find that old list, but it probably was something like the following.

  • Don't go to any big box store or mall between a few weeks before Thanksgiving until a few days into the new year. (I don't visit these places often and in fact made a run to Costco, the only place like this I frequently visit, a couple of weeks ago. I'm stocked on toilet paper and cheese and such.)
  • Do go to any independent stores you like and buy yourself or your spouse anything that your whims dictate. (FFP is hard to buy for, but I usually come up with something from a store I can walk to that is one of a kind and independent. I don't buy presents for anyone else.)
  • Do not feel bad about sending money to relatives. They enjoy spending it. The adults will pretend to the kids that you picked out a perfect gift. 
  • Do not dress up in Santa-themed or elf-themed costumes.
  • Do not cook a turkey or a ham, but graciously eat those cooked by others. 
  • Do not worry that you are properly addressing everyone's religious needs during this season. They will take care of themselves.
  • Do not decorate the apartment for the holiday unless you get those bendable, posable collectibles out of storage. (See below.)
  • Do enjoy the decorations of others especially those we can walk to and the magnificent displays at hotels. 
  • Do eat out as much as you like and enjoy the company of others. Have fried oysters at Threadgill's for Christmas dinner if you like.
  • See a lot of movies both in the theaters and streaming and on DVDs.
  • Go to all the Christmas parties that you please and don't feel bad about not giving one.




Tuesday, December 31, 2013

Not Stopping Now...What We Do and Why We Do It


The Visible Woman...ponders.

Pondering is that meandering kind of lazy thinking that can either give us great insights or put us in a muddle.

I was just reviewing entries in my real daily effort (with help from FFP and sometimes others): Austin, Texas Daily Photo. Because tomorrow we will display our favorite picture of 2013, as laid on in the strictures of the City Daily Photo And then I remembered that I have a busy day ahead and I haven't done an entry in this space. Which I have done for each of the prior thirty days to honor a Holidailies commitment. And it's December 31st!

Anyway...busy day. I have tennis in an hour. I'm up and dressed for it, having my coffee and getting ready to punch in an electronic reservation for tennis for Thursday at the strike of 8AM. I need to do the above review and put up a favorite from 2013 for that blog tomorrow. We have tickets for the little theater around the corner (Violet Crown) for seeing "American Hustle" at 1PM. After tennis I'd like to go to the post office and send my passport renewal stuff to the processing center priority mail. I probably have to get gas. I haven't bought gas in so long I don't remember when, but it's getting quite low. Then at 6PM we have a reservation for an early, special dinner for New Year's Eve. After which we will relax safely in our condo while people revel and fireworks explode.

So here are the things I'm pondering. What do the pictures we take and cull from the virtual stack say about us? What happens to the strangers inadvertently captured there? And what, if any, are the benefits of nostalgia? (Just sort of kidding on that last one.)

So...to have a picture for today I chose one from the small archive I have put in the cloud for saving.

This is FFP in 2005 on a very ambitious road trip we took. He has since lost weight. We drove all the way to Southern Maine with some stops. On the way home we spent two nights in Buffalo in order to visit Niagara Falls. He'd never been and I'd never been to the American side. He's standing next to the roar on the American side (I think).

For some reason I framed this picture to show a stranger, a dark-haired man crouching on the other side of the rail. I'm pretty sure he's shooting a picture but this seems dangerous. I think he might be Asian. We all walked away from the falls. And then, what? For us...we know that we moved to downtown. And we lost three more parents. And we weathered a health scare for Forrest. And we just keep getting older. The man in the red, white and blue jacket? How about him? I will never know.

I don't know why I framed the picture to include the stranger. But I'm betting he was just a bit of visual composition to me. Like the mist, the railing, my husband and the building looming (on the Canadian side?) across the way. I wonder: what the pictures the stranger took look like?

Looking back, fondly. Not nostalgia really. Not wanting to be there at that stage. Just wanting to think a bit about how it was to be there. For us. And for a stranger.

Wednesday, December 25, 2013

Merry Christmas

FFP poses with a stuffed Santa at a party at the Headliners Club.

The Visible Woman...celebrates.

There are no more presents to open. I got my present earlier and I love it. FFP liked his new muffler and umbrella (or so he said). It's not the one in this picture because I didn't let him open until Christmas Eve and this was the day before. 

We got up around 7:30. At that moment when a hot coffee from the Capresso machine sounded better than staying in bed. I sorted the ads to throw away out of the paper. Just glanced at a couple. I have no intention of shopping after Christmas, but I like to see what they are pushing.

Yesterday we walked down to SoCo and ate at a favorite spot, Snack Bar. I had a salad of avocado, pineapple and quinoa and FFP had the same and we shared an order of crispy Brussels sprouts although I ate most of them. There were lots of people down there, presumably getting last minute gifts. We only went in to Off the Wall, Tesoros Trading Company and South Congress Books. At South Congress Books we bought a book of jazz essays by Phillip Larkin called All What Jazz: A Record Diary  Who knew he wrote about jazz? And a biography of Peggy Lee. I guess you could say we bought ourselves some presents. We refused the gift bags offered however. FFP came home and immediately started reading the Peggy Lee book. I wanted to take up the Phillip Larkin book because I'd started one essay in the store and it sounded great. But I'm going to finish Kansas City Lightning by Stanley Crouch first. It's my bedside book. (I read papers in my chair in front of the TV and while eating.) I finish books, but slowly, since that's usually my only book reading time.

We came home and finally decided to stay in for the evening. We watched Le Notti Bianche on a disk rented from Netflix. We listened to an extra on the disk which was a reading of the Dostoevsky story it was based on. (I love this movie. The way it looks. The way they film flashbacks. The atmosphere of the streets.) I read papers all the while, missing this and that in the film and reading I'm sure. We ate a dinner of what was in the refrigerator. And we had drinks. I had two lovely Manhattans on the rocks, mixed by FFP. On Monday at our club party they had Bloody Marys and I had two and they were delicious. I think FFP even had one. (We did walk to the party!) FFP started thinking about mixing one and had to run around the neighborhood and find some mix. He tried the store in the building but it was closed early for the holiday and so he went about four blocks to a liquor store he called to see if they had it.

So we celebrated with cocktails and an old movie and reading. Happy Christmas Eve to us. It was nice, actually.

Early in the evening I called my Aunt Cappy on the phone. She lives near Dallas and my cousin and his wife and one of their daughters and her family live not too far away. However, I think everyone was in Taos for Christmas. My cousin in Houston has a wife and mother-in-law not doing that well. We don't like to drive IH35 this time of year. So there she was, alone. (Her husband died in January. She couldn't attend his memorial in February because she was in the hospital with pneumonia. I helped her return his ashes to his native state of Maine in the summer and she did quite well on the trip.) She said she'd saved our gift for Christmas morning. It wasn't much: some ballpoint pens in a retro style and a package of note cards with a typewriter as decoration. (She still has a typewriter and uses it occasionally!) She said, yes, she was alone. Then: "I spent lots of time alone in the barracks before I was married." (She was a career Navy woman. She married a Marine within a few years of both of their retirements.)

I thought of a Christmas I spent alone, before I was married. My parents went to Colorado where they had grandchildren. My aunts who lived nearby (the older sisters of my Aunt Cappy who never married) had gone to West Texas where there were two other sisters, married with children. I didn't get an invitation from anyone I worked with. It was a sort of wonderful experience, actually. I had presents from my parents and sister and probably some from my aunts and I saved them for Christmas morning. I opened them and then later called Colorado to thank them for the presents (and hear the chaos of the kids and their presents in the background). I don't remember any of my gifsts except one. It was a pencil sharpener. A crank-style one, heavy duty. Instead of having to be screwed to a shelf like in our schools at that time it had a lever that activated a powerful suction cup to stabilize it. That was back when I dreamed of writing a book on yellow pads with Number 2 pencils. Back before computers for the home. (I programmed computers at the time, having my code typed onto punch cards for the compiler by a room full of ladies. Yes they were all ladies.) I never wrote a book on yellow pads with pencils. I never wrote a book, period. I kept the pencil sharpener for a long time, however.

That Christmas I made myself some coffee, maybe a little breakfast of bacon and eggs. I got the Dallas Morning News and I turned on my stereo and listened to the Beatles or something while reading every single page and section of the paper. If I'm not mistaken, I may not have owned a TV at that time.

Like my Aunt Cappy, I can deal with being alone. Even on the holiday when it seems most people gather in large groups. But I almost never am alone and I almost never was at Christmas before I married either.

Today we are relaxing with coffee and papers. We may have a walk this morning. Probably have some chicken and veggie tacos for lunch. Then we join a family gathering for dinner and drinking. 

Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Going Solo

Reflection of the tree in Frost Bank Tower with my silhouette. 

The Visible Woman...reflects.

Yesterday FFP felt awful. He would cough. And he would sleep. He could barely eat. (He is much better today.)

I felt fine. Great really. He had been feeling bad Sunday and every time I suggested an outing he said he didn't quite feel like it. So we read and we watched TV. And we read and watched TV some more. I became lethargic and antsy.

So yesterday I just went out twice and walked around downtown and looked in shops. I bought FFP Christmas presents on one trip and a hostess gift for the people who invited us for Christmas dinner on another. The weather was astonishing. The sky a beautiful shade of blue, the sun shining but the air cool, not much wind. It was a joy to be alive and outside. 

We had a benefit party in the evening at Four Seasons Residences. Around noon FFP said he couldn't do it. So I'd sent a message to the organization to fill the seat if they liked. Around six I headed over there. It's about ten blocks. I was a little chilly when I arrived (I had on a muffler and a suit, no sweater or overcoat) but it was fine. The party was in a beautiful apartment where a lot of furniture had been moved out and tables set up for dinner. The views were lovely. The art was interesting. Neil deGrasse Tyson spoke about astrophysics. I talked to interesting people and had some wine and dinner. Then I walked home in the cool, beautiful night.

I don't do a lot of things without FFP these days. I play tennis a few times a week with my friends and go for walkie/talkie/lunch with a friend about once a month and go out with 'girls' occasionally. Mostly I do things with FFP. Shopping, meals out, events. He has board meetings or appointments and sometimes shops by himself for clothes and such. (I have no patience for it.)

It felt strange to do things he would normally do with me by myself. (Except for shopping for him for a present. But I only do that once or twice a year.) I didn't feel like I was at a loss so that was good. I enjoyed rambling around and I didn't feel threatened walking to the event by myself. He didn't feel so bad that I felt guilty leaving him. I enjoyed the weather and I talked to people at the party. We usually split up at parties anyway.

I guess it's nice to know I function well enough without him. For a lot of our thirty seven years together we've had time apart. Work and business trips had us apart a lot. Now we spend a lot of time together. He has a few board meetings and other non-profit work and interviews people for a column he does.

I'm glad that we aren't driving each other crazy! We seem to do all right with lots of together time.

Friday, January 06, 2012

Where To Begin

After a long pause, I finally got around to writing a blog entry on Monday, November 14. I felt a bit adrift then. We were planning a little celebration (of our first date) with some friends. We had a trip to New York scheduled. (Which we took December 5-12. The above picture is our multiple reflections in one of the Bloomingdale Christmas windows.) I couldn't decide what, if anything to do about Christmas and the holidays. Whether to send cards, buy presents for anyone.

On November 16 my mother-in-law died. (The events of that day are somewhat interesting. See Forrest's description here.) That capped off a year and a half during which Forrest had a cancer scare and two surgeries; my dad died; his dad died; I disposed of my Dad's estate; he handled his dad's; and his mother died, leaving us parent-less. Then we begin disposing of his mother's estate.

There were three services, burials and such to arrange during what seemed like such a short time. There were fiduciary duties. There were (mercifully short) trips to MD Anderson, times in hospitals here. Three ambulance rides at the end for parents. Through it all we were very 'lucky.' Lucky FFP's cancer has apparently not spread. Lucky our parents didn't suffer too long. (My mother died in 2002 and, sadly, she did suffer a lot longer than I would have liked. My dad, of course, had his share of problems in the last few years.). But still. We were lucky. We had the money to handle things, for me to retire and take care of things for Dad after mother died. For Forrest to retire. We had time to see my dad through some trouble, to look after some things for his parents. We have the money now to not worry about money but just do what needs to be done with houses and stuff and all that.

Lucky or not, things are different. I realized after my dad died that I'd stayed young (in my own mind) and exuded confidence that I could take care of things trying to help him through his old age. Forrest did most of the things for his mom but her presence made me feel younger. Because she needed us, didn't she? Because we were young and strong and capable, right?

Now we can arrange to travel and not worry about what parental difficulties may arise at home. But, of course, we may find ourselves in difficulties. Can't really escape that.

We have kind of sleep-walked through the last six weeks. We went on with our schedule after a few days of handling my mother-in-law's services. We cleaned the valuables and mementos out of the house. We drifted through Christmas. I finally printed a few cards and sent them post-Christmas. We had a fancy dinner with friends on Christmas Eve and we were invited to a family gathering with someone else's family for Christmas Day. I didn't buy any presents except hostess gifts. FFP and I bought whatever we wanted and I sent money to my nieces and sister.

Now I wake up and it is 2012 and I'm vacillating between wanting to make some changes (blog, write my novel, exercise more, socialize with people, travel here, travel there, get rid of stuff, get new stuff) and wanting to roll down the shutters and be a recluse, changing as little as possible and buying nothing.

Where will I go with it? Will the blog record the journey or will I go back inside my head? Too early to tell. Going through old blog entries for the links in this entry make me realize that sometimes it does help just to write it down.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Dress Up

What we wear is so much a part of who we are. Isn't it? We would prefer that people looked beyond our 'rags' I'm sure. But they don't. As I type this I am sitting here in white tennis shorts and a white polo (purchased on the cheap at Costco). It is possible I stink a bit since the dried sweat is now ready to give off that metallic smell. I played tennis, finished eight hours ago and haven't changed or showered.

I still remember the first polo shirt I ever owned. It may have been the first knit shirt I owned. The first thing that wasn't sewn by my mother or grandmother. We got it at some discount store, a one-off precursor of the big box discounters of today. I remember standing in the yard of our house, wearing it. It was windy. I was enjoying wearing that polo so much. I wanted a bunch of them.

I always loved jeans. Bear in mind that I went to school for 15 and 1/2 years where pants were verboten for girls. (Worked a couple of years in business after college where the dress code forbade pants, too.) But I loved pants. And tailored blazers. I still do. I don't remember when I last wore a skirt. It was very possibly in 2002 when I was faced with the third or fourth funeral service in a few weeks time and had run out black outfits. I trotted out a black skirt which I still own. The jacket that matches it is probably due a replacement but that skirt probably hasn't been worn since. Oh, wait! No...the last time I wore a skirt was probably after that. Someone invited us to a 'white tie and ball gowns' party. No, I didn't wear a ball gown. I wore a long velvet skirt and a velvet top to sort of look like a gown.

These days I have a few basic modes of dress and with these I try to get by in the situations polite society presents. If an event is really casual I will wear jeans (a loose fit Levis Men's style that happens to fit off the shelf) and a long or short sleeved button-up blouse depending on the season. I might wear a blazer, windbreaker or leather jacket if it's chilly. Sweaters, too, when appropriate. (Which is hardly ever in Austin but I do travel elsewhere.) I will wear hiking boots, tennis shoes or loafers to fit the occasion. To be a little dressier I'll choose the black-wash jeans and loafers. If I'm just hiking around, I might wear a polo with the jeans.

If an event is a little dressier I will wear a suit with pants or slacks and blazer with a button-up blouse. Maybe a covered placket blouse or some pleats to fancy it up. Maybe even, choke, a piece of jewelry or a scarf. I wear my nicest flats. I can still walk a couple of miles in them. I have one pair of lace up black and cordovan spectators I sometimes wear, too.

For black tie I wear tuxedo pants and a top with a bit of spangle or maybe really wear a tuxedo (coat, too). I have a silver turtle neck, various sparkly tops, vests, tuxedo shirts. I wear a pair pf flat 'tuxedo' pumps There are Cole Haans as are most of flats and loafers. A few of my shoes are Ballys, though.

For tennis or the gym, I wear something from a small collection of shorts, polos, sweats.

And that's it.

I enjoy wearing jeans or slacks and blazers. I enjoy having pockets. My blazers or suits are either custom-made, expensive women's wear or men's wear tailored to fit. All have pockets.

I feel sorry for women who are forced to wear certain clothing. I feel sorry for women who feel they have to wear high heels or short dresses or ball gowns. It's hard to know who is really wearing what pleases them. I empathize with men who want to wear women's wear. I understand that one just wants the clothing they want. But me? Most of the time, now, I am happy with my clothes and I also manage not to offend those around me. I hope anyway.

And I mostly get by with my sartorial choices, too. A black blazer covers a multitude of sins. So to speak.

[Photo: SoCo boutique. Me and FFP.]

Friday, May 07, 2010

More or Less Art

Today's picture (taken over on W. Sixth a couple of days ago) is not an all-time favorite. But it does represent a couple of the topics I'm flogging here.

I contend that the reverse images of FFP and I are recognizable although reflected and therefore backwards (note position of wedding ring if you take a closer look at me) and with parts obscured by objects in the shop windows (e.g. most of my face). I liked this better after I cropped it and adjusted the saturation to make us more black and white in contrast to the pink car (which was actually brighter pink in the real shot). Whenever you see those bank robber pictures in grainy security photos with caps pulled down, etc. don't you wonder how anyone would recognize them? But if you knew them well, I bet you would. Often when I'm on the tennis court I catch sight of someone on another court or walking by, not facing me, etc. I know immediately who it is from tiny clues. This line of thought makes me wonder if anyone ever appropriated those bank robber photos to make art. Wouldn't interest me, but who else is interested in my line of inquiry?

You can pluck and pick from the images in your camera, of course, taking the parts that fit your vision, the parts that give coherency to the things you are trying to say. Another person might eliminate self reflections (by the angle of the shot or in the computer). Here is an example of a another picture, taken from the same original. It could be used by an illustrator for an article about how we are running out of time to save energy. To me it's not art, but to someone else? Maybe. Also, it doesn't have the same coherency with my other 'work' as the head picture. This coherency is important in our response to art whether it's in the comfort of recognition or the upending of expectation. ('LB was in her shop window self portrait period during the early part of the 21st century.")

That's all for today, folks. Thanks for listening. Blathering on about this stuff makes me feel less adrift from the arts which I love so much. I should probably eschew active participation in this world, but because of blogs I don't have to sit on the bench. I can assert my art even to an audience of one. (Me, later.) Tomorrow maybe I'll create pointers to a gallery of old photos that illustrate some of my points. Hmm, what were those points again? Ah, yes. Layers, recognition, art and appropriation.

Wednesday, January 06, 2010

Needing a Hand...and Holidailies

I wanted to do something else for a couple of hours this morning. My dad wanted me to get yet another prescription out of a doctor. For constipation. Trust me, no matter what is wrong with an elderly person it always gets back to the bowel. Trouble is, some of the drugs he's taking cause constipation. He no longer had the pain they were to be used for. Stop those. Some drugs he's taking may cause diarrhea. Some drugs for constipation reduce the efficacy of some antibiotics he's taking. So. What is needed is for a doctor to look at the drugs and situation and recommend something. My sweet husband faxed a drug list to his GP and went over there to try to sort it out and go get a prescription filled or a recommendation. I needed a hand. Someone else to do what may be useful, may be futile but makes everyone feel like we are good caregivers and makes Dad feel like he has what he needs. Someone to wait to talk to the doctor. To take the prescription to the pharmacy and wait for it to be filled or get the OTC drug recommended. To talk to Dad about it. This is all I do, it seems to me. Doctor's offices, pharmacy, emergency room, talk to Dad, repeat. It could be worse. He can take care of some things, or try to do so, himself. But it is constantly on my mind. Other things are scooted out. Because Forrest is doing this possibly fool's errand, possibly errand of mercy, I can sit here and write about it. And go to a two hour class and write peacefully. Unless the phone rings. And my crisis management is required again.

But too many of my Holidailies posts have been about my dad's illness and my frustration with it.

There are other things to write about.

For example, I have managed to write a paragraph or two in this space for thirty-one days. I sometimes did it on a laptop while waiting for my dad's next need. (Often encountering his ire because he apparently wanted us to do something else while waiting for his next need.) I even wrote one on my iPhone. It was a nice release and while I will wince when I look back and see how bitter and ungrateful I was during this period, it will be instructive to look back. I was also pleased that this post got a 'best of Holidailies' designation. I always hope to get one of those a year.

Also, Chip did such a great job on the Holidailies site that it's been a true joy to use it. Why can't more sites cleanly present data, changing seamlessly as people add things?

And, of course, during this spate of writing here I have had the pleasure of displaying many of my shop window reflections, replete with shape and color and depth. Well, I like them and one reader, at least, does as well.

Nothing feels like an accomplishment any more. Not the things I do for my dad. Not the things I write or photograph. Not getting out Christmas cards or paying bills or (when I do get to it) cleaning the apartment. I have been walking a friend's dog since Saturday and I have to say that this chore has been a little bit of a joy, forcing me out into the cold air and forcing me to look around the neighborhood a bit. Fortunately her elimination is working and for that I'm grateful and I'm happy to pick up the poop in the pink bags. Now if Dad can just successfully eliminate, too, everyone would be happy. Well, not really, but you know...it often does just come down to the bowel and bladder. It's good to remember that.

Goodbye to Holidailies. Let's hope I can keep up a bit of blogging or writing without it. Have a great 2010, readers. I hope mine does not consist of 80% of the days taken with doctors, emergency rooms, etc. as the first five have been. Gotta get better.

Sunday, January 03, 2010

Anger, Grudges, Euphoria and Memory

I am sitting here with a cup of coffee, typing on my blue tooth keyboard on my iMac (a physically pretty computer that hasn't lived up to its beauty). I'm leaning back in my chair. I usually use the wired USB keyboard because I'm usually doing numbers and it has a number pad. The blue tooth one doesn't have one. This little keyboard is light and magical. There is that great cup of coffee nearby. Maybe I'm 'just typing' but it is always a euphoric moment for me, using a computer that is working at the moment to write something to store forever (or while blogger archives it) and sipping good black coffee. My life is full of these moments. Moments of reading or visiting with friends. Completion of a task. Just walking my friend's dog this morning on a dreary, damp day felt good. Toasting with friends with some great live music playing gives me a rush of well-being.

Lately I've had lingering anger and attendant grudges to deal with. The good news is that the euphoria of moments of reading, writing, visiting with friends or listening to music stick with me. A sip of coffee takes me there and makes me happy.

But my memory for other things grows vague. Rude comments and slights, behavior that I found offensive, someone taking advantage of me? I hold onto it but then it slips away, a victim of the vagaries of memory. Perhaps because these things are inspired by the memory alone and not, like my moments of euphoria, fueled by the smell of coffee or the clink of ice cubes in a Manhattan or a sight of a red wine twinkling in candlelight.

I'm not sure how it came to be that good memories were associated with these readily available triggers, but I'm glad it's so and that my grudges and anger are more easily put aside, having to maintain themselves out of brain stuff alone.

[Today's photo is an untitled shop window reflection portrait of FFP taken with an iPhone at Let's Dish on South Lamar.]

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Days Slip Away

Days slip away, but some little mementos yank us back to another time and place. Today's Holidailies writing prompt is "Tell us a story behind that thing hanging on your wall over there."

I glanced to my right and there was a little memento box with three things framed and matted: a picture, set of three business check book receipts and a hand-written receipt.

The picture shows yours truly in 1977 along with my husband of less than a year (FFP). We both have long hair. We're posing lugging a box up the steps of a house where we lived together for over a year (he'd owned it since '72) and where he started a little advertising business called Good Right Arm. The box? It is a brand new electric typewriter. The check stubs record checks 101 through 103 and are for purchases of stationery (second sheets), business letterhead and an initial deposit on a phone answering service. The receipt is for the typewriter which used fancy ribbon cartridges and for a supply of the cartridges. That was the beginning of the business. FFP ramped it up to a full-service agency and ran it until 2005 when he eased back to a copy writing service like when he began. Only now he does only what he wants to do, writing articles for local publications.

I would have exhibited the memento here instead of yet another shop window reflection self portrait but I think the glare would spoil the fun of describing it. We used a tiny bedroom in that first house for an office for the first few months and then we moved a block away on the other side of the street and lived there for 31 years.

I'm not sure what made us decide to frame the stuff. Probably at some point, winnowing records we decided to save these first things and we had the picture, shot by a friend visiting us from Dallas sitting around in another frame for years on the mantle. FFP decided to preserve it this way. Just now, unaware of what I was writing over here, he was beside it, disconnecting his iPhone from the charger and he said something about what young kids we were. Indeed, we were 28 and 30. Amazing.

Tuesday, June 02, 2009

One Year Downtown

Hard as it is to believe, we closed on our condo a year ago. So one year downtown? Wow. It's true that we didn't sell our house until August, but we spent almost every night down here after we closed and (that same day) moved in a few things (a sleeper sofa, two chairs, boxes of CDs, a tiny flat screen TV we got off the Internet, a coffee table whose glass top we kept having to move around as we finished out our place out with built-ins, electronics, some new furniture). We spent a lot of our days at the house, packing, cleaning, tossing, organizing. We left our Capresso at the house and moved in a new coffee pot at first. (I knew we were committed when the Capresso came downtown and we tucked that new drip pot away for the disastrous day when our beloved caffeine machine fails us.)

There are pros and cons to everything, of course, and sure there are things I miss about being in my old neighborhood. I miss the restaurants that were convenient there (Fonda San Miguel, 34th St., Blue Star and Billy's on Burnet), watching nature unfold in the yard (although I don't miss trying to tame it or the poison ivy) and I miss being able to go out to my car if I forget something without riding the elevator.

But being downtown mostly rocks. All in all I might like to live in a more expensive building but it's hard to imagine a better location than this one with three restaurants (two well-established now and one soon to open) and a grocery store downstairs. Then there is Whole Foods only a half mile away and a multitude of other bars, restaurants and coffee shops within a half mile or so. We are right across the street from our beloved Butler Dance Education Center, the home of Ballet Austin, and really positioned for events there. We can easily walk to Long Center, the Paramount and, though it's a bit further afield, we've made our way on foot to the Blanton, Erwin Center, PAC, KLRU studios and Harry Ransom Center at UT. I was talking to one of the neighbors in my old hood the other day and they said it was just an illusion, a mindset, that it was no further from our old house to, say, the Performing Arts than from the new place. Actually, it is a mile and a third further. This is pretty significant, adding over two and a half miles of walking to a round trip. And, of course, walking downtown from the old place would be beyond daunting to me, not to mention time-consuming. Of course, we could bike but I'd be a danger to myself. Bikes, in fact are a dange to me when they don't yield to pedestrians in crosswalks or they ride on the sidewalks. I've become more sanguine about it over the months but it still makes me mad to be crowded or almost sideswiped by someone on a bike, riding where they really don't belong or disobeying traffic rules. I dodge and anticipate now, though. I also think we walk faster and smarter from all the practice. We sense when bikes or cars are going to threaten us. As it gets hot, we seem to find the shady side of the street more easily, too.

We can walk to Old West Austin, Clarksville, SoCo, South First, South Lamar. We claim any place we can easily walk to as our neighborhood. In the picture above, FFP stands on Bouldin Avenue as we were walking home after having Sunday brunch (a taco from Torchys trailer). It isn't hard to find your way home with a beacon like that.

We can go to Alamo Drafthouse South Lamar or Alamo Ritz and see a movie while eating and drinking beer. We can go to the Elephant Room any night of the week and see jazz.

While we don't have a yard with squirrels, birds, geckos (and pests, too), we do have an expansive view of streets and buildings and Lady Bird Lake. We can walk down by the lake and see plenty of plants and turtles and ducks and squirrels. We can walk to several parks. It is really nice to have a view of a vast sweep of sky. We can see east and, from the balcony south and north. A few steps across the hall we have a western view. We've enjoyed watching construction downtown on the Austonian, the W, Spring and, when we walk around, the Four Seasons.

We've worn out shoe leather and discovered innumerable things down here even though, in the past, we came downtown often enough. The good news is that Cathy's Cleaners picks up and delivers our cleaning and they do shoe repair.

Having sifted and sorted, we have to be more heartless about getting rid of stuff and not letting it pile up quite as much. Magazines and papers have to go to recycling sooner. The place is too small to tolerate not putting stuff away and picking up after ourselves a bit. In the old house, we sometimes locked the dog (who sadly died before we moved) and piles of junk in a room for a party. No such extra space now.

We still get lots of magazines and papers, though. The three papers are delivered to our door in the morning. No wet papers ever again. And nothing could ever stop us buying books so, one day, another purge will have to happen.

It's been a great year, really, if the first three months were a little tough going getting the house ready and sold and getting this place like we wanted. We've gotten into the rhythm of being downtown and what it means to drive certain places away from downtown during rush hour. (We mostly avoid this.) Our cars sometimes sit for days and if it weren't for our parents and our visits to the club (it's about four miles away...if not too far to walk, too time-consuming). Our life really is simpler in lots of ways and we are trying to find even more ways to make it so. We are banking at banks we can walk to and our main broker has a nearby office, too. We try to make every trip count when we leave the building, too.

We plan to live here until we can't take care of ourselves here or we claim our death. It will be interesting to see how things look in five, ten, fifteen even twenty years if we and the world last here.

We are going on a trip in a couple of weeks. We won't need a house sitter...a friend in the building can stop by and check stuff and retrieve mail if we like. The concierge will hold packages. We could even take a bus to the airport although we would have to walk a half mile to the Airport Flyer stop. Wish there were a closer one. They might want to reconsider that bus route based on all the residents on this end of downtown! (But I doubt they will...Capital Metro is too involved in massive fiascoes to consider something as simple as having a bus go a half mile west to make it convenient to, literally, probably 2000 more people. Not that I can't walk a half mile with my luggage but will I in the Texas heat?)

Yeah, it's a new, simpler lifestyle. It is amazingly, better in a lot of ways than I dreamed with no major disappointments. And if you are reading this and you are someone I see in person, please don't ask any of the following questions: (1) have you moved downtown yet? (2) do you love it? (3) are lots of the condos vacant? (4) how will they ever fill all those condos? (5) which building do you live in? (6) where is that? (7) how do you ever manage to get provisions living downtown so far from a grocery store? This last one is the funniest. While we have to drive a little over two miles to a Randall's, I bet many people who ask this live much further from one or at least as far. And we can literally go downstairs to a convenient store and deli for many things. And the biggest Whole Foods in the world is a half mile away and ridiculously easy to walk to.

It's not Manhattan, but it'll do.

Thursday, March 05, 2009

The Virtual Line

As my three (or is it five?) loyal readers know, I'll say pretty much anything here in my blogs and publish pretty much any self-indulgent picture. Above, me reflected in Turquoise Door shop window, SoCo, with Oaxacan animals and a shadow of...what?

I figure it's a blog. You don't have to come. You can stay away entirely. I rarely (have I ever?) post a link pointing to my blog except on other blogs (and in my info on facebook). I'm not pimping the thing, trying to go viral, whatever. Think of me as off in a corner at the party, talking to myself unless you come over and draw me out.

That facebook thing and message boards present some unique virtual lines, though. Once someone is in your network you have to opt out of seeing what they are up to. And you have a choice really, to just lurk, or post status, notes, etc. there. Today one of the people in my network posted this status: " X shares unrequested advice, third hand: Make every update count." I'm guilty of posting inane things. Or boring ones. But you know what? I don't mind anyone's little status updates. "Going to bed." "Up too late." "Working on a contract." I like it. Some people just hit 'post' on status and it comes out as something like "Joe is." Like a heartbeat. Cool in a way. Showed up and pushed a button. Sort of like those lifelines for old people that go beyond the button and sense whether they are there or make them intentionally check in. I see people I like doing ordinary things. It's cool. The links I don't like so much? People are trying to pimp something and you don't always even know what and you follow the link and it's a video (did I mention I don't much like watching videos online?) or a political diatribe. I don't care about people who are playing games or giving virtual crap to one another. It's not real. Go out and have a real beer and put it in your status.

Yeah, everyone has some virtual line he won't cross in these sort of unreal worlds of social media (what does that phrase mean anyway?). On facebook one thing I don't like to do is ask people to be my friend if I am not sure they would have any idea who I was. Also, even if I know some one perfectly well and would be civil to them and confirm them as a friend, if they are someone that I would not invite to my home then I won't initiate the friend connection. If they initiate, though, then fine. Does that make sense? Sometimes people suggest I be friends with someone and I'm just not sure who they are, sadly.

It's la-la land out there, almost as surreal as the real world where we bump up against strangers, acquaintances and friends in odd ways. We all have our odd rules and boundaries there. So it's no surprise that the cyberworld has people with lots of differing opinions sliding around against each other. And it's no surprise to me, given my propensity to occasionally sit in a corner at parties, that I sometimes feel like leaving message boards, other people's comment threads and facebook behind to slide into the cul-de-sac of a blog. And one with moderated comments at that.

Things are just layered and nuanced out there. No one straightforward path. And, oh, that shadow. I think I know what made it.

Saturday, November 29, 2008

Companions

I sometimes wonder how I'd get along without FFP. (Pictured here in my shop window reflection fashion.) I don't like how that plays out in my head, to tell you the truth.

Oh, I do lots of things independently and do have friends and relatives who provide some help and comfort.

But I rely an awful lot on FFP. Not just his handling of many of the details of our lives (social, chores, financial). I also rely on him to be there to reassure me that whatever I'm doing is OK. He did this throughout my career. He does it now when I go off and play tennis or work out instead of doing chores or accomplishing anything in retirement. If I goofing off, he says it's OK. so I can do things I should be doing when the spirit moves me without a lot of guilt.

It's also good to have someone around to talk to, to bounce things off of, to laugh at things with and to share discoveries with. We are always reading something aloud to the other one or showing the other one something on the WEB.

Right now I should be doing some cleaning and going though my inbox and updating the budget. But I feel like blogging, drinking coffee and reading the paper. Which I will do. FFP will say it's OK. That I deserve it. That he "isn't doing anything worthwhile either." (Which may or may not be true.) Or he just won't say anything and I'll know it's fine.

I'm always so pleasantly surprised when I look up and realize he has taken out the recycling or trash, cooked some salmon, done the laundry, done some other chore.

Yeah, but mostly I just like talking to him, watching movies with him, listening to music with him. I don't mind spending some time by myself. I even used to take vacations apart from him and spent a lot of time away on business trips.I did fine on those trips. Enjoyed my alone time to some degree.

But I'm comforted that we will be together again when we're apart. Sitting home reading in our separate chairs or back-to-back doing something at our computers. Going out to eat, just the two of us, taking along our books or magazines to read. Going out with others knowing that we'll both probably want to go home at the same time.

This morning I was playing tennis. There were only three of us so I took on the other two for three sets of "California" or "Australia" doubles where you play against two people but they don't get to use the doubles alleys. I was having a really good time and thinking what a good time I was having. FFP has only played tennis a few times and isn't into it. But I felt good when it was over and, on my way home, my cell rang and he said he'd been working out and was going to shop for groceries for us and his mom. So, yeah, as soon as my independent activity was over I was happy to link up with FFP.

It's no wonder, I guess, that I feel that he's essential. I've been married to him more than half my life. Amazing.

Sunday, April 13, 2008

Focus!

Sometimes I resort to a 'to do' list. Sometimes I put them inside my journal (a written one or one on this computer) or just scribble them on a pad in front of my computer. I keep little tasks in mind and when the time is right, I strike. Right now it seems very important to be focused and efficient. But it is very difficult. Today I have a 'day off' with nothing pixeled in on the calendar. So one would think I would accomplish a lot. Cross things off lists, solve problems, sort, toss. One would think I would do some cooking, some chores, get a long workout. One would think so. But my random scattered approach is much, much different.

But, really, is there anything more satisfying that scratching through an item on your 'to do' list (or putting a cute graphic check mark in a computer file)?

Write a Visible Woman Entry. Check. No, I don't usually put blogging on the 'to do' list. But sometimes I do.

Saturday, March 15, 2008

Old Reflections

This photo is very, very familiar to me. Of all the reflection shots I've taken, and there are many of them, this one is the most familiar because for several years it has appeared as the background on my old desktop computer. This picture is six or more years old and, yes, that is FFP's reflection.

As we hurtle toward the new here we are constantly stumbling across the old. Old pictures and souvenirs. Old clothes, old magazines.

I don't find that I have much to say at the moment. We got rid of more books yesterday. We also had a brief "curbside mall" with some old gimme caps and such and a cheap rickety floor lamp. It wasn't long before the FREE sign (an old political yard sign with cardboard taped on top with a giant FREE written in black marker) was out there by itself. I retrieved it. I got a workout (a continuation of the "don't stop the thing that's working") and FFP and I went out very early for some drinks and apps. (At Fino.) I managed to sort through a few things and, given the warm day, put my sweaters away and refresh the moth balls.

I am boring. It's time to play tennis and I need some more coffee. So this is what you get today.

Sunday, March 09, 2008

I Always Wanted To...

FFP had always wanted to go to the Café Carlyle and see Bobby Short. Then we got to do it. I couldn't say what year at the moment. Bobby is dead now and after the recent remodel his portrait is in the little hallway between Café Carlyle and Bemelmans Bar. I posed FFP with the portrait on our trip last month.

Everyone has lists of things they want to do. I feel like I've gotten to do most of the things that I wanted to do in my life. I say that I have this dream to go to all the Grand Slam Tennis Tournaments. [Ed. Note: You did go for one day to Wimbledon.] I say I have a dream to follow the Danube to the Black Sea (on one or more trips). Truthfully, though, while I do want to travel to a lot of places and can't wait until my obligations make that more possible, I'm pretty happy with my life here in Austin. I'd like to beat back some of this downsizing and moving stuff so that we can live the dream of just walking out the door of our building to a cab and not worrying about a house. This assumes we can hire people to look after the parents, too, if needed.

Naturally, some of our dreams are under-financed, too. But truthfully it is mostly about time and obligations at this point. I'm not saying I have the money for all my dream vacations. Because I don't. I think I'd like to reach the point where money was the thing holding me back. And at some time before my infirmities are in charge.

That is the race we run, isn't it? With money, time, obligations and health. And no one is immune. I read in the paper that Roger Federer had battled mono in recent months. Hmm...maybe my chance to see him win a Grand Slam in person is past!

Meanwhile, someone seems to have stolen an hour in the night.

Wednesday, January 30, 2008

Time for Reflection

At least the photo is not another shop window. It's FFP with his reflection at Jeffrey's bar. (Which is remodeling. The tile murals are altogether gone now.)

I am very jealous now of the time I spend (usually in the mornings), writing whatever I like here in the Visible Woman's space and/or over at Austin Daily Photo and/or in The Journal of Unintended Consequences and/or my private journals. Even with 'duties' pressing in on me (errands for Dad, a workout, downsizing, end of month business stuff, taxes, chores, organizing stuff for my country club board duties) I still spend some writing (well, typing anyway) and fooling with my digital pictures, usually from the time I get out of bed until time for my tennis game or I feel I must get started with my day.

It is a pleasure to write, er type. For me anyway. I know it is painful for some people. And I know that feeling when you have to write something specific and it isn't coming. But diaries, journals, blogs? Say whatever you want? What's not to like.

So that's how I start most days. At the computer. Caffeine and reflection. (And not just in the photos.)