Trivial Things

Pet Peeves? Trivial things that bug you when people are fleeing bombs and scrounging for food in other parts of the world. Yep, I've got them. And I bet you do,, too. I try to laugh them off, though. I read my newspapers. A story about a starving teenager who died after eating poisonous roots in Venezuela or a Middle Easter family trying to assimilate in the U.S. after fleeing and spending years in a refugee camp, that's the perfect antidote to the trivial things that irritate me. Still, I think I'll write about them!

Let's start with fashion, given the photo. It's a reflection of me in loose-fitting jeans, a jacket, and cap.The shop is a fancy one on West Sixth Street called Julian Gold. Look at those shoes! Here is my attitude toward fashion: I try to dress neatly in uni-sex style. I want to be comfortable and not look too out of place. Not to say that I don't like fashion. Just on other people. I like a great variety of clothing on others, men and women. Although...

Let's talk about purchasing jeans that are already ripped. I'm OK with ripped jeans, but wear them out and let the denim slowly fill the lint trap in the laundry. Personalize them. This is a really popular thing right now, the ripped designer (and no doubt expensive) jean. (Unless it's already on its way out. I hate the keeping up part of fashion.) I do like runway shows, though. Great theater. Just don't asked me wear 99% of what's shown. :)

Yes, I put a sideways smiley face up there at the end of that paragraph. A colon followed by a close paren. I don't really like emoticons. Even less do I like emojis which are actual pictures. Use your words, people. Type out pizza or merde. Oh, maybe it overcomes language barriers, but, on my phone, they are mostly too small for my old eyes to make out. So, if you are really on a car trip driving through saguaros don't put a car and a cactus emoji. Just say you are driving to Marfa or something.

Oh, Marfa. Oh, all the places that hipsters go where I don't really see the point exactly. Especially Marfa. But also Santa Fe and Aspen a little bit. Sigh. I'd actually take being in downtown Austin over a lot of these places. Where I lived for eight and a half years.

And, yes, I love living downtown. But I'm tired of being asked over and over: "Do you like living downtown?," "Where do you buy your groceries?," and "Don't you hate the traffic." I've been here over eight years. If I hated it, I think I'd find a way to move. I buy my groceries at (1) the deli in the building; (2) Trader Joe's which is 100 yards away; (3) Whole Foods (which is 1/2 mile away); and (4) all the same places you buy them (Costco, big grocery stores) when I'm out in my car which, thank you very much, I don't have to do a lot SO the traffic doesn't bother me nearly as much as it does others! I don't ask other people "How do you like living here and having to drive downtown in the traffic to see just about any live show?" I don't ask them if they mind having to drive every single time they want groceries because they cannot walk to any place to even get a six pack. But I might start asking these questions. Maybe just on social media, though, and not at parties and such so as not to make a scene.

Ah, yes, social media. I love Twitter and Facebook. But I don't love the attitude and baiting. But, also, more trivially, I don't love memes (I don't really like the word either). Especially memes that are just a picture that is really words. A poster with words to be big on the social media and get attention. I despise those memes that say "I'm about to drop some of you who won't read this to the end, copy it to your feed, etc." Oh, please do! Drop me, that is. I love it when someone expresses their own thoughts, takes a picture of the kids and dogs (even the adults) or generally marvels at what is going on around them. I am moved when you mourn your relatives or pets. However...

We all know Carrie Fisher is dead. Genuine news outlets have reported it. The year 2016 did not take her or any of the other unfortunate celebrities who passed this year. Leave it to the Academy Awards and such for the tributes. Unless you have a 'me and Carrie' story. That would be interesting. (Although, yeah it was too bad. She was only 60. And I just saw that my own husband shared the story. So there you go. He did so to say what a great writer he thought she was as well as an actress. So, OK)

I'm sure I have other pet peeves, little things which don't matter but, in the moment, make me forget that I'm well-off, well-sheltered, well-fed and don't hurt anywhere at the moment. There is the way millennials cross the street oh-so-slowly when I'm waiting for them at a stop sign (even when they aren't buried in their phones). There's the way, when I'm the pedestrian, that cars occupy the crosswalk I'm using even though I'm trying to get out of it much faster than the average millennial. (Granted these behaviors aren't every millennial or every car, but still, irritating.)

But, I'm off to a movie. I'm walking there, not driving. I'm sure I have some pet peeves about movies or their audiences. But I'm oh so lucky and who am I to complain.

Upon Reflection

My favorite kind of pictures involve shadows, mysterious details, reflections and such. Not straightforward looks at things, but asides, peripheral views, indistinct abstractions. I especially love reflections. I can't think of anything else to write about so I thought I'd explore this with a few interesting pictures. The one above has many levels. I took it in 2014 but I know where because of the reflection of that pitched roof (it's a church) across the street. (The window is in an antique and junk shop called Uncommon Objects on South Congress in Austin.) There is a mirror in the shop window that reflects me as does the window. I adjusted the picture a little in Photoshop to enhance the odd clown or jester and his odder friend.

Since it's the holidays, I'll add this one with a Christmas theme:

I do love this sort of picture. Perhaps it's because I prefer not to look at things straight on, especially myself.

The Joy of the Season

This picture was taken of the window of a shop near us decorated with a 'joy to the world' theme. I like it. I used to collect old globes. Gave them all to charity when I downsized.

A few days ago I talked about letter writing and how I was writing personal notes to people who sent me cards rather than printing up a bunch of cards and mass mailing them perhaps with just a scribbled sentiment. As of yesterday I've already fallen a tiny bit behind. (I have five unanswered cards.) But I'm hopeful that I can keep this up. It is nice to stop and reflect on the folks that have taken the trouble to buy or design and print something, address it, stamp it and entrust it to snail mail.

I hope this activity is making me stop and appreciate the season a little bit. Because it's really about those human connections. Here's a picture of a young couple and their four kids, almost visibly growing as they are photographed. Here's these two guys in front of the Capitol with their dog, here's a Santa card with a nice personal paragraph inside. And so forth. We are making a connection with one another in all our sameness and differences. It's a reason to be happy, isn't it?

Texas Christmas

As we muddle through the holiday season here in Central Texas, usually without snow, having a few bitterly cold days, some just right and some, let's face it, too warm, one sees people resort to odd decorations like putting Christmas balls on the sharp spines of the agave (aka century plant).

I'm not much for decorating and this year I will not have a tree or tinsel. No wreathes (hallway decorations not allowed in our building) or centerpieces. I will put some holiday cards we receive out on a shelf so I can enjoy them for a while. I won't be digging in the storage cage downstairs for bendable posable Christmas figures to strew around the apartment. (Yes, when I *do* decorate, it's unconventional at best.)

What I will do, however, is co-op others' efforts to be seasonably festive. I'll go to the hotels around here and snap pictures of their trees and other decor. Ditto the efforts in my condo building. I think there's a tree up on the 9th floor. I'll pose FFP in front of giant presents or Christmas characters. Maybe catch some clever shop windows with the camera. (We usually go to NYC to see those magnificent displays but not this year.) Restaurant decorated? Grab a picture. Someone made a real effort on their yard this year and we happen by on one of our rambles? Grab some pictures for this blog or our daily photo effort.

I consider this tactic making the best use of the efforts of others. One of these years I'll throw a little cocktail party like I used to do when we lived in the house and I will decorate. I may even have to clean the house for that. Not this year though. All the festive stuff you'll see here is either someone else's work or from the annals of time. But I will try to have somewhat festive pictures to dress up for Holidailies.

A Nostalgia For Simpler Times

The Picture
This is another reflection picture from the car show. Behind me is an old '50's era Chevy in that aqua blue color. These cars didn't come with Blue Tooth.

The Year
The random number generator came up with 1987. Specific memories of that year are elusive. I have some files on my computer where I have typed in some hand-written notes from old notebooks and journals and scraps of paper. I only found this:

12/29/1987 (December 1987)This morning on the way to work I was thinking about how I haven’t been playing tennis or racquetball. Then I thought about the lesson I bought for The Black Tie/Tennis Shoe Auction. I couldn’t remember Jeff Moore’s first name. Other Moores. (Greg for example) kept getting in the way. Even remembered his wife, Lucy. Then other Lucy’s started popping up---Katz for example. Finally about 9:30 I called FFP, but got the answering machine. When he called back and the phone rang---Jeff sprung to mind. I knew all the time that (1) it wasn’t alliterative; and (2) it was one syllable. FFP had lunch yesterday with Dr. Ernest Sharpe. He told Forrest he was losing his memory. Sometimes I’m afraid I’m losing mine a little fast for a 39-year-old woman. 

I'm not exactly sure where I worked at that juncture. It was a time of changing jobs before I landed at my final real job in 1989. It was perhaps a company that was later subsumed by another company and then another. I remember the event in the note (it was to raise money for Women's Athletic scholarships at UT) but not the tennis lesson or whether I ever took it.  I am sort of fascinated by the description of my effort to remember the name of the UT Women's tennis coach which, of course, I don't remember trying to remember. I have to laugh, of course, at my 39-year-old fears. This 65-year-old is both troubled and secretly glad that 1987 is sort of lost in the mists of time. It is either wonderful or sad that this year and this day will be similarly lost.

The Object

I got a haircut yesterday. It's a tiny bit short and the bed head effect was weird so I wore a hat on our walk today. I bought this hat in Normandy (en français, Normandie) in 2004. We went there for the 60th anniversary of D-Day. It was unseasonably hot. I hadn't brought a cap so I bought this one. It has been worn on some hot walks around Austin in the subsequent years. So it has some layers of salt from sweat. I keep too many old hats around but I particularly like this one because it reminds me of a trip and inspires some memories. 

The Last Few Days

I played tennis yesterday and took a walk around Lady Bird Lake today and it occurs to me that I'm happiest when doing these two things. We went out last night and serendipity took us to two favorite hangouts, Bar Congress and Arro, and we enjoyed the food and drink (a bit too much of the latter) and seeing some friends who were with some people we didn't know. Enjoyed a wide-ranging conversation.

Monday we went to hear music at El Mercado on South First. Christine Albert and Jimmy Dale Gilmore. Both yesterday and Monday were last minute choices of where to go and what to do. I like that in a way. Tonight we will probably meet up with a friend who is in town to see his mom. We haven't planned for where or anything.

Reflecting...Organized

I've been feeling like updating this blog, but have been at a loss about structure. Don't know if I'll keep it up, but today's structure is (1) one of my reflection pictures; (2) a memory from a random year; (3) a reminiscence inspired by a random object I own or have owned; and (4) something I did in the last few days.

The Picture
I took this at the end of last month at a car show at my club. I'd finished playing tennis. That's me in shorts, with hat and my tennis bag reflected  in a bright red car finish along with a vintage aqua Chevy, I'm not a car person but I love all the beautiful reflective surfaces of paint and chrome.

The Year
I used this random number generator to generate a year of my lifetime. It came up with the year 2000.

Wow. Y2K.I remember being on call for customers of my software firm on New Year's day  in case of problems after corrections for the assumption that years were two digits!

I remember buying a house for my parents in Austin and, in May and June, their move down here from Mesquite (near Dallas) where they'd lived for 34 years. They stayed with us for six weeks while their stuff sat in the garage of the new house and we waited for the seller to move into new digs.

Then, in the fall, I had a gaggle of business trips. Las Vegas, Australia, Europe, Wisconsin. In the snow. I remember the fall being so busy with trips all over. But I don't remember too many details. I went to Paris after my Europe duties for fun. I remember doing a few touristy things in Sydney. And drinking lots of Shiraz. And looking down at the tennis courts in Melbourne from an appointment high in an office building. I remember a restaurant in Las Vegas where I went with two work mates. I took a call from my mother there on my cell. My cousin had died of breast cancer. I missed her funeral due to the travel.

The Object
A manual calendar. This is a little wooden advertising specialty.  It belonged to my mother. I don't know where she got it or when but in 2000 (that year again) she moved it to Austin. It is made up of the frame, two cubes with numbers and six wooden slats with months front and back. You can assemble it to be today's date. I remember it in the move because some of the parts were initially misplaced. She found this upsetting. Two young girls I'd hired to help her unpack eventually found them. Inside a sugar bowl, I think. When my dad died I put the pieces in a baggy and brought it home. Not right away, of course, but as I slowly disposed of everything in the house it ended up here. (My mom had died eight years before.) I couldn't bring myself to toss it in with the thrift store donations (of which there were many). I occasionally move the pieces around, but not often. Only recently did I find it in a cabinet and put it on the shelf with books and pictures and artifacts. It reminds me of time passing and the meaningless of things.

The Last Few Days
We've been 'coming down' from a trip with friends to New Orleans, replete with eating and drinking and doing road trip things. I've been trying to get myself to catch up on chores with house cleaning and such. I did get through catching up on bills and budgets. I approved my tax return for the CPA to efile and I wrote checks to the IRS.

Saturday (the 12th) we walked to UT's Bates Recital Hall and saw the UT jazz orchestra with guest Joshua Redman. He was amazing. I'm so glad we went. (We chose it over several other social events.) There's nothing FFP and I enjoy more than a jazz concert. I have six of his albums in my iTunes (ripped from our CD collection.) I should listen to him some more.

A Portrait of Myself

The Visible Woman...reflects.

Self portraits are odd things. Many artists (not that I consider myself one) have explored the image of themselves. I'm intrigued by what the kids call 'selfies.' I have been doing them for a long time, long before phone cameras made them so popular with kids. Before I had a digital camera even.

I also love collage and, at some point, I became intrigued with the collage-like look of shop window reflections especially with interesting shapes outside the window and interesting goods. Sometimes the windows contained mirrors or other reflective objects and this amplified the effect. I soon noticed the fun of having me, FFP or strangers reflected there, too. Sometimes it's the mere outline of my head that shows up, other times more of my features. Always something is a little obscure. Like life itself, oneself is an elusive concept, visually or in the abstract.

I Dreamed of Travel

The Visible Woman...travels.

When I retired (it's been over eleven years ago now) I thought I'd do a lot more traveling. At first FFP was still working, but my dad was up for some road trips to Dallas and Colorado to see relatives. I could slip in a trip with friends as a single. Which has its advantages in some ways. Beginning in 2004, FFP made time for more trips and made his first foray to France. We've only been back once since and only to Paris.

The parents and their aging needs made us wonder about trips to Europe for a while. We developed a habit of going to New York in June and then, the last three years, also in December. We began, at some point, to go to Portland, OR and a few other spots in the Northwest every August. In 2005 we drove to the Northeast and in 2010 we drove to the Northwest. In 2006 we drove to Santa Fe and Phoenix. We've made driving trips to New Orleans the last two springs. We made a trip to the north coast above Boston and the Hamptons in July 2012. I also squeezed in a trip that summer to see my relatives in Colorado. Last summer I had a trip to Maine to assist my aunt in taking my uncle's remains back to his home.

We downsized and moved to a simple downtown condo in 2008. That made it easier to leave town. As did not getting a new dog when our Chalow had to be put down in 2007.

My dad died in 2010 and FFP's parents both died in 2011. That might have freed us a little for travel. Of course, FFP had a health scare in 2010 and while that's behind us now we still visit Houston twice a year for a trip to MD Anderson.

Somehow we travel a lot and yet not enough. I hear friends talk about cruises and safaris and trips to Italy and trips to places like South America where I have never ever been. Some friends went to Berlin in October, a place I've been multiple times, most times meeting up with these friends. I was eager to show FFP Berlin. But I couldn't make it work.

We don't have any trips planned for 2014. We have some mentally penciled in. My passport expires in October so I think I'll renew it now and hope that I do get to go to some place outside the U.S. this year.

Need to Walk!

The Visible Woman...walks.

I have to get out and walk. It's where I do my best thinking. The exercise is good, too. Seeing things at ground level, exploring change in the neighborhood is never boring but the repetitive one foot, other foot, do it again clears the mind.

We haven't been walking enough lately. FFP felt ill. Then yesterday our walking ambitions were cut short by rain. It was nice later but FFP went to the Ballet Austin "Nutcracker" performance in his back stage "Mother Ginger Wrangler" role and I drove him over and then did various things around the apartment.

The picture above of the quote carved into a rock was taken last week in Butler Park near the Palmer Events Center. We did take a short walk over there to tour around the Armadillo Christmas Bazaar a bit last week. We walked around to the retention pond and we saw all these rocks carved with quotes on the north side of it. We had never seen them. Truth is we rarely go to this part of this park which is kind of lovely. It has a retention pond which reflects the downtown skyline.

But I need to walk today! I need to see what I have failed to notice before. And I need to clear my head. My head is full of news of the evils of the world and the haggard hope people find in the holiday season. I need to focus for a while on what's just right in front of that lead foot.

Techno Muddle

The Visible Woman...swithers.

For those following along...remember how I was thinking of submitting a ten-year-old blog entry to the Guardian project? I thought I had found a suitable one that was ten years old today. But I found a broken link and I wanted to add a period. I tried to update the entry. I still own the blog space but the location is kind of convoluted. Anyway...I went down that rabbit hole for a while. I finally gave up awash in domain names, registrars, redirections, file hierarchies, HTML and mystery. Then I kept going back to it. I finally got a link that worked, marveled at my urge to edit old stuff and looked at the clock to see the time wasted. Argh.

I was going to write about that old entry in detail today here. Maybe. Or write about the urge I had back then to record everything. Now I haven't actually entered it. Oh, did I mention that the other day I was looking at the Guardian thing and had to ask my husband what the A/S/L box meant. (He looked it up on the Internet.) Age/Sex/Location. Really? When did that become a thing?

Anyhow. Swithering. (This is a word that is not a proper English word perhaps but which my friend Mags used, may she rest in peace, and I love it.)

I also swithered over my Christmas cards. I decided to send a few more to people I hadn't received one from . Every day I seem to get a surprise one that I didn't expect and I send one to those peeps. I tried to keep track of who I received one from and who I sent one to. I'm sure I got confused at some point. But it would appear that I've sent 115 or so and received 32 or so. More if you count some electronic missives. So that's that. I have a few left and if I get some more from people who didn't receive one I can write 'Happy Holidays' on one and send them out. I didn't mention Christmas or any other specific thing on the printed card. (I really should just say Here's to 2014 on the card.)

I am also swithering about updating a friend's WEB site. I swore I was going to learn more about Dreamweaver and CSS and this and that and completely revamp his site so it wasn't such a mess. But I won't. I'll try to piece together this latest round of changes and get smarter later.

I'm also swithering about needing to clean the house and straighten up things around here. FFP thinks he got sick from ingesting dust because he vacuumed and dusted last Saturday. I usually do this stuff when he's out of the condo and I'm here. There aren't enough of these times or I get lazy so it does get out of hand.

Anyway...there is lots of time. I just need to use it wisely. Right? Stop typing and get on with it!

Change is Constant

A New Reflective Sculpture has appeared on Colorado Street.

The Visible Woman...walks.

There is no better way to see things than to walk. It's a pace that encompasses a slowly changing perspective so that you truly see things from several angles.  As people slowly approach or pass you, there is time to consider what a stranger's story might be or whether, oh yes, you know them from somewhere. (Three times in the last two days someone has flung open there car window to interact with us on the street because they knew us. In one case, a woman pulled over and got out of her car!) You can consider the minutia on the sidewalk that drivers never see: coins; fast food wrappers; beer, water and soda bottles; fallen leaves and seeds; and the occasional abandoned shoes.

When Forrest was feeling poorly on Monday, I walked around a bit by myself. With our trip to NYC earlier in the month and a busy schedule since we returned we haven't come close to getting to all the corners of our walkable world. The polished sculpture above appeared out of the sidewalk on Colorado Street. Must be part of the agonizingly slow project to create 'great streets' in Austin which mostly involves widening and enhancing the sidewalks. 

Racks for the bike share program have also appeared although the program doesn't start for a few days. No bikes yet. I fear it will mean more bikes on sidewalks. I have already had a close encounter with a bike share bike...on my recent trip to New York.  It was at least in a crosswalk, though, and not on the sidewalk. 

Must get around and walk some more and see things change. The many cranes are cranking out more and more stories of hotels, apartments, office buildings and condos. The changes in the last six plus years since our condo started rising are astounding. And on foot is the best way to see it all.

Writing or Typing?

This reflection of me and himself was taken at Barney's, I believe, on our recent trip to NYC.

The Visible Woman...writes.

What does it mean to write. Is it just typing? Do you have to have coherent sentences? Or not? Are fragments OK? Should you spell it 'okay?' Should all the letters/phrases/sentences add up to something. Just how important is conventional use of punctuation? I noticed early on in online journals (blogs now) that sometimes a casual emphasis was added by radical period stops. Every. Single. Time. I saw that usage it impressed me as something invented online which I never saw in print. Oh...maybe somewhere in Joyce's Ulysses but he did tend to running along without a single period. "yes I said yes I will Yes." Breathless that.

Since I fell hard off the blogging bandwagon and started tweeting (with an app connection to facebook sending the tweets there) I have abandoned the paragraph. Sometimes even the complete sentence. (Although once my thoughts or those of others and some pictures arrive on facebook I may run on and on.)

But I've not lost the desire to communicate, to write (type?) something with meaning. To reveal rather than fragment or obscure. To encapsulate at least one idea. To comment on current events. (OK, okay, in my pictures, as above, I tend to fragments, obscurity and received reality.)

From July 2009, early in my twitter career, I offer a couple of old tweets to show you what I mean. (Points for knowing the current event implied in that first one.)

Later I think I'll write (type?) about working within the restricted space of 140 characters without breaking my rules for writing so completely that I become disgusted. And I may also write later about typos. Argh. Ugh. There is lots of time and space in this holidailies stream after all!

Follow the Rules!

Whoa! I was just looking at Holidailies and wait, wait...am I supposed to post 32 times??

I'm such a rule follower. I feel compelled to post with another 'stolen' shop window reflection image and tell you that I ate like a queen last night. (And drank like one, too.)

For NYE we got dressed up a little after eight, walked a few blocks, and went to a secluded romantic dining room. (Jezebel, tucked away inside the Bar Mirabeau on Sixth Street.) After eating and drinking some great adult beverages, we walked back to the apartment in the rain. Rain! We needed it. We had our umbrellas. Young people stood in lines to get in various venues, most without umbrellas. Safely home, we dosed through midnight and I was rudely awakened by someone setting off (illegally) fireworks nearby later.

Yesterday was a day of feeling closed in by life's circumstances. News of a cousin's husband's death reached me. The phone discussions with other relatives brought other tales of time catching up to all. I worked through some of the end of year and end of quarter and end of month duties including getting two forms with checks ready to mail to the IRS. I worked on other preparation for tax time as did Forrest. There is a feeling with me on New Year's Eve not of a new start the next day but of having run out of time in the year.

Today we stayed abed rather late. Although holidays are not that different than other days for us since we retired we sometimes adopt the attitude of the rest of the world and sleep in a bit and lounge around in our sweats until noon. (OK, we do this on workdays occasionally, too.) I ate so much last night I thought I'd never eat again but I did indeed, consuming a bowl of black-eyed peas and some cheese and crackers.

We watched part of the Rose Bowl Parade. I worked the NY Times puzzles. The crossword was in honor of the Emancipation Proclamation but also managed to include the word 'dementia' which struck me as funny because every time I complete a puzzle I'm doing a little brain dance to prove that I haven't succumbed to it.

We were invited to an open house last night which we didn't make because of some of the above phone calls and the dismal weather and the fact that we'd have to drive there (but could walk to dinner later). We were invited to one today, too, and we made this one, toting a bottle of wine for the party-giver.

It was an Open House and we were on the early end of it. We talked and got a got tour of the guy's place in another downtown condo building. We'd never been in these, and enjoyed another perspective. He had all kinds of food that he was pulling out: shrimp in cocktail sauce, sausage balls, cheese, ham, black-eyed pea salad and cornbread. A few more people came. When we finally left I'd had a tour of the art on the walls, we'd had a lot of linking discussions. I'd eaten too much and had a little wine. We walked to Book People which was crowded with people taking advantage of their big 20% off sale. But we didn't buy anything. Too many books at home that need reading. I'm still reading the one I got for Christmas and I'm still reading a book I bought in Sag Harbor in the summer. (I've been reading it by the bedside, a few pages at a time.) There are piles more I need to read.

So we are home getting ready for an evening in front of the TV. Drinking coffee. Watching DVDs instead of football. I haven't done anything real useful today. But. It's a holiday.

So, now...this is really the end of Holidailies, right? Bye for now.

Where's this Conversation Going?

The photo was taken in July. Shorts weather. Blackmail shop window, I think on South Congress. But that's not where I'm going today.

I had brunch with four girlfriends.

The conversation began while we were waiting for our table. I said to one friend: "Is that a new muffler?" She had a pretty scarf on, but she asserted that she'd had it a long time. She said, "You know you have stuff and sometimes you don't take it out of the box...."

I mentioned that I had a muffler I bought in Germany in 1972. It always amazed me that I'd never lost it. Then I said that I still had a lap blanket I bought on that trip...a souvenir from the already over Olympics in Munich. Another friend said I should find out if it was worth anything. This segued into researching values on eBay and the Internet and how "Antiques Roadshow" folks seemed so naive about what they had.

One friend told the story of a friend's family who found, after the patriarch died, a book by Winston Churchill that was signed. Which transported her to other stories about that family including a show at the Paramount where they had front row seats. Which led me to say I preferred row T there. And caused her to say what her niece, the opera singer, said about the best seats in a hall. Which led another friend to say that she had seen a performance of a choir in Paris that she knew said niece had sometimes performed with. And she was surprised that she was, indeed, there. Which led to a description of poor accommodations on that trip. A room that smelled of smoke. And a discussion of smoking regulation and anecdotes about same.

And we hadn't even sat down. Sitting down we covered more ground. Banks, online banking, driving on ice and snow, finding old letters.

Outside, as we were leaving, we recounted all the houses and apartments one gal has lived in, all in the Austin area. None of us, not even she, could quickly summarize.

And so it goes. A conversational flow.

This is the penultimate day of Holidailies. It's been fun, I suppose but I think I will welcome 2013 with a little more silence online. Or not. At least I met this simple challenge: type something here every day. And the conversation sort of flowed at times....

Hat For Every Head

I've been goofing off, reading in my easy chair and pretending to care about football, and in the back of my mind trying to think what to write in this space for the 29th day of Holidailies.

We got two holiday cards today. One from someone who is the child of college friends of mine who sends pictures of her husband and young child and who lives maybe five miles away. Another from a proud grandfather, mailed from Seattle where he's helping with his daughter's new twins, a continent away from his own home. I hadn't sent either a card. I will now, though, to complete the loop. (Besides I have a box full still unused.)

Earlier I was sifting through social media, thinking about people and their posts of children and snow and their comments about things received and places visited and new babies.

And I decided to say: any kind of communication works for me. Whatever the frequency or form. It's good to reach out.

I've had two Manhattans and I really have nothing else to say except keep writing and talking and blogging and tweeting, snapping pictures and sending missives far and wide. Emails, snail mails, blasts to all your 'friends.' Whatever. Just keep talking.

We have to keep up the chatter.

[Photo taken at a wonderful hat store, a venerable brand but new to Austin.]

Less is More

Now comes that time of the year, that last few days on the calendar, when people start to say "Well, that's over. Next year will be better."

And they start wrapping things up. Lists of best books, movies, moments, achievements, news stories, the departed.

And they start making resolutions.

Oh, I've done it.

But this year I have resolved that, if I resolve for 2013 at all, I'd make one and only one declaration. And one terse enough to tweet.

I've had lots of ideas.

• Try to say no more than is absolutely necessary for communication and conversation.

• Give yourself a break. Every single day.

• Write down what you eat, drink and do so you can figure out what works. But assume most things are coincidence.

• Embrace complexity.

• Learn one thing every day.

I've made long boring lists before. I've even made myself assess progress against them. But I just can't do it. Maybe I'll revisit those old efforts in the waning days of this Holidailies exercise. Just to fill the space and convince myself of past futility. Because, after all, I did resolve to write something for every day of this December. But a brief foray into that old stuff would "bore me terrifically" I'm afraid.

[Note on the picture: One more self-portrait as a vague shadow. There's a theme there somewhere. Taken at one of the household shops on North Lamar.]

Christmas Morning, Enjoying the Time

When I was a kid, we'd bound up on Christmas morning and see what Santa left (these gifts were never wrapped) and see if there was anything in our stocking cooler than fruit and nuts. Then we'd play with our toys and maybe go to our grandmother's for the meal and 'the tree' (where you unwrapped gifts that weren't from Santa but from your family but could sometimes, if you were very lucky, include something besides clothes). We often had a lot of time to wait for the 'tree' because we'd wait for Dad to be there and he often took a shift at the V.A. hospital where he was an attendant. Extra pay on holidays. Or he'd be doing some farm chore that didn't respect the holiday. Finally we'd rip into the gifts, sometimes all at once, sometimes having everyone wait patiently while we unwrapped in order, usually youngest to oldest. Sometimes the opposite, though. Often the little kids would pass the packages around making a pile for each person.

When all was said and done, you'd have a bunch of presents. You'd have a trash can full of ripped paper, ribbon and tape. (Or some relative would be trying to preserve it for recycling.) You'd have eaten the traditional meal. My favorites were homemade rolls, homemade dressing and giblet gravy and homemade cinnamon rolls, maybe some cherry pie. Turkey was an after thought to me. I just had a little piece to enable some more gravy. We might be enlisted to set the table, to clear it, to help wash and dry dishes. Finally we'd get some time with our presents. You might start to read a book, enlist someone to play your new game or assemble or play with your new toy. Usually something would break or disappoint in some way by day's end. You might even end up getting out some old favorite thing (Monopoly or a toy you were really too old for) and engaging with it.

There was a not real pleasant denouement until you settled in with your new stuff and then you spent the rest of your vacation just glad not to be in school.

Today we got up at our usual time (some time between 7 and 8 although FFP usually rises early to take some pills and then returns to bed).

We exchanged gifts yesterday morning so there were no gifts. FFP had his usual oatmeal breakfast. I don't do breakfast but had several cups of coffee. We ate out the last couple of days and when I got hungry I reheated leftovers brought home from restaurants and had that. So did FFP.

I worked the NY Times crossword and Ken-Ken. Easy today because it's Tuesday and I always enjoy the ones I can do. A bit of a Christmas present by Christmas being a Tuesday. Crossword theme was 'Secret Santa' with that in circled cells strewn through longer clues.

We watched some episodes from the first season of the "Sopranos." (Not a very merry activity! But enlightening.) We got the disks at a going out of business sale for a music and video store (Cheapo Discs) yesterday.

I read some of the Arts section of my NY Times. I made a call to Colorado, timed to be able to talk to all of the relatives gathering for a second Christmas gift exchange. The chaos on the line reminded me of those Christmases of old as described above.

But I enjoy Christmas this way. Time to read the paper, work puzzles, play a game of Scrabble against myself on the iPhone and to write a blog entry. Maybe before we go out to a late afternoon rendezvous I'll have a nap. This peaceful gift of time is a wonderful thing. I have plenty of toys and books. Just need to take time to enjoy them.

Booked Solid, Dressed Comfortably

I don't have a little black dress. (The picture is a detail from the Blackmail shop window shown yesterday and that is a reflection of me with a short-sleeved polo less than a week ago, jacket tied around my waist.)

It's colder today, in the mid-forties. I'm played tennis. With old sweats and a Polartec jacket over my shorts and polo. Then I have a late lunch/walk/talk with a friend. (We do it about once a month.) We usually dress casually regardless of the lunch spot because we usually walk a bit, too. So jeans, jacket, hiking boots today.

Later FFP and I will walk over to see the enormous light display at Zilker Park. It's called the "Trail of Lights." We used to call it the "Trial of Lights" for the traffic it caused. But a guy who used to work for us and whom we love dearly worked on it and so we are more benevolent about it. So we will walk over there and see that. And then we'll walk to a restaurant and meet a friend for wine and dinner. I'll probably go with black jeans, a sweater, a blazer and hiking boots. Because we'll walk four miles at least to do all that. The restaurant is nice, but casual. Wink on Lamar.

Tomorrow (which some are touting as EOW) we have a party in the middle of the day at a downtown private club we belong to. That will require a nice pair of slacks and jacket and maybe some jewelry and dress shoes. But the place is less than a mile away and all my shoes are flats or loafers. In the evening we are driving to a bad Christmas sweater and karaoke party. I don't have a bad sweater but I have some silly Christmas pins I'll wear on my decades-old red blazer. I don't sing. FFP might. He will not drink. Because he's driving. The noon party has free Bloody Marys. I usually make an exception to my no drinking before five for this occasion. I don't know, though, I might not drink at the evening party.

But I digress from dress to drinking.

Saturday brings a party. I could walk there but the streets around there are dark and scary (for falling more than anything). FFP will drop me off. I'll wear a read sweater or blazer. Black slacks probably. FFP will do some duty at Ballet Austin's "Nutcracker" and return to the party.

Sunday we will loll around in sweats or take a walk in jeans. In the afternoon we will catch a musical act at the Armadillo and eat at a casual place nearby. Jeans, hiking boots, sweater?

Monday is Christmas Eve. We'll probably walk and then go to Ruth's Chris Steakhouse in the evening for dinner with four friends. I will dress up as in: nice slacks, nice blouse, jacket, dress shoes. Sweater or muffler if it's cold. Less than a mile to Ruth's Chris. We will walk.

Christmas Day will be lazy. Football? Walk. We will meet friends at a 24 hour diner (called 24) at 4PM for a Christmas dinner. Casual, I think. Black jeans, sweater.

Yep...I'm booked solid. But I haven't had a need for a little black dress. Oh we did our version of black tie last Saturday. I wore tuxedo pants, some great Cole Haan tuxedo flats and a top and jacket with a bit of sparkle bough at a Chico's sale.

And so it will go. Another holiday without a little black dress.

Exploring the Neighborhood

The wonderful Gail Chovan, designer and owner of the South Congress shop called Blackmail, does some fabulous windows. This Christmas it has a black tree and across the panes it says 'I see a green tree and I want it painted black...

I love shooting interesting shop windows reflecting the street scene and, of course, us in our walking garb.

One of the joys of walking SoCo are the wonderful shop windows and the variety of people there. You not only get a little validation for your odd feeling about the holiday from Blackmail's window but you can ponder who might like to receive a silver head for Christmas as you check the windows at Tesoros Trading.

And you can go inside Uncommon Objects and imagine who'd rather have a hand or two.

Yep it's definitely weird shopping. You can find some great stuff, though. I love going through the old postcards and photos and seeing toys I had as a kid fetching big prices at Uncommon Objects. (They say not to take pictures, but I do anyway. So sue me.)

I have this idea that I will carefully explore all the places within two miles of our house. That I'll explore the shops and restaurants and hotels and sidewalks and shortcuts and construction. That I'll visit the museums when they have new shows and catch performances at the theaters. And note the interesting houses and yards and yard art. There is too much to really keep up with, of course, within two miles of my house. Within walking distance. That amazes me.

Star of My Story

When I shot this (locals may recognize this as the door on Seventh Street into the Driskill Bar) I had the idea of doing a series of (lone) stars for my Austin, Texas Daily Photo blog. But I decided to use it today here.

I've been thinking as I struggle against (pick one or more) a cold, allergies, bronchitis, or some nameless illness that we are all our own little experimental labs with a (statistically insignificant) sample of one. I've tried  various OTC drugs to treat the obviously non-life-threatening symptoms. (Runny nose, congestion, cough, head ache, no fever.) To get a ground zero I've also tried going without any medicine for hours or days. (Except some herbal tea.)

Life is like that, isn't it? We do something then assess how we feel. Carries over to spending money. We think some object or trip or experience will make us happy. We buy something, go somewhere, do something. Then maybe we stop and say, "Whoa. I'm never doing that again!" Or: "All right. Let's do that over and over!"

There's no real substitute for this trial and error thing. You are unique and your mileage will always vary. It doesn't help for parents or friends or mentors to tell us that something will or won't work for us. Nothing works like trying it. You have to personally buy a house or get a pet or try to drink gin or quit your job and travel. The lucky among us get to try enough things by the time we are my age to be pretty safe in picking what will make us happy. Of course, it's still hard to figure what is going to cure this crud in our unique systems.