Category: Art

Esprit de core

I’m hanging in there on the physical therapy for my lumbar spine issues. I was close to quitting because everything hurt, but my massage therapist said she could feel a big difference in my flexibility, so I decided to stick with it.

And it has improved, so that’s all for the good. Some of the stretches are difficult. I told the PT I’ve modified the exercises a little, and he was OK with that. One of the exercises is called the dead bug. I said it makes me feel like I’m going to have a stroke, so I changed it up a bit and am now calling it the bug on life support.

At least he laughed. A key component of this program is to strengthen my core, which is non-existent. As we say around here, cores are for apples.

He said it’s about learning to isolate the stomach muscles, because that puts less stress on the back. I’m pretty sure most of the world walks around just fine without the ability to isolate the stomach muscles, but sure, I’ll give it a whirl.

Esprit de core. Spirit of the body? I know it’s really corps, but my version kind of fits, don’t you think?

I finally finished number 42. This one took me a long time. Some of that is because I work in the garage, and it gets cold out there. I do have a portable heater, but I’m reluctant to use it for some reason.

Although I like this piece, I keep thinking of the Progressive commercial about becoming your parents — the one where they make the woman get rid of her Live, Laugh, Love sign. So, this is mine, but I’m not getting rid of it.

I finally figured out how to see it enlarged. Just click on it! It takes a sec or two, but it will show up bigger.

My sister suggested I try an engraving tool to add a different element to my art, and I think I’m going to get one. That could be fun to play around with. If somebody had told me that my retirement hobby would be making art out of pallet scraps, I would have assumed they were smoking crack. Such a surprise to me, but I really enjoy it.

This is another busy golf week. And then we have a wine pick-up from one of the local wineries. That’s about a 30-40 minute drive one-way.

I never knew these clubs existed, but we have tons of wineries nearby. You join the ones you like for free, and you get free tastings. With most of them, you’re committed to buying a few bottles quarterly or something like that.

As of now, we’re in two clubs. It’s a struggle, but we manage (hee hee). This week’s pick-up is from Vino Noceto, which specializes in Sangiovese, one of my favorites.

Dinner tonight is what we call “Health Food.” Basically, a bean and cheese tostada with lettuce, tomatoes, onions, cheddar cheese and guacamole. Dale makes the beans from scratch, and look at all those fresh toppings! Hence the name.

Oh, and if you like the idea of non-alcoholic beer but haven’t found one you like, I highly recommend Heineken 0.0. I seriously can’t tell the difference between this and the real thing. I still drink regular beer, but I like having options.

The purpose of hobbies

I had a beautiful run of good golf, so I’ve been playing a lot, trying to savor the last of the good weather, and as it turns out, my good golf. What a game. It must be there are just a few people who can play consistently well. For the rest of us, it’s mostly bitter disappointment mitigated by tiny spurts of proficiency and eternal hope.

But that’s why I have lots of hobbies. So disappointment is a moving target.

I’m thinking the key is diversity of interests. When you get pissed off at one, move on to the next until you can come back and play nice with the others.

And so, with golf turning out to be such treacherous jerk, I turned to my friend Art and completed Number 40!

For some strange reason, I went with a Christmas theme. You may recall I don’t like Christmas all that much, although I’m into the food part and regularly make decorated cookies and other holiday treats. I think I wanted to see if I could capture some of the iconic images of the season.

As it happens, I actually like Number 40! Maybe it will make a believer out of me. Probably not, but I still like it.

I haven’t decided whether I should hang it on the wall with all the others or box it up with almost nonexistent holiday decorations and trot it out sometime in December. We have a big nutcracker from Germany, and that’s about it for seasonal décor, so I’m leaning toward another brick on the wall.

That reminds me last year I convinced Dale not to get a tree, so I suppose I will have to go along with that mess this year. I’d better start preparing myself now. By the way, I’m doing that with politics, too. Preparing myself for the worst so whatever happens won’t be such a shock. I’ve already rehearsed in my head how I will stay calm if it all goes to hell.

Anyway, I do like the tree in the end, particularly the part where Dale decorates and I drink Single Malt Scotch. But overall, I see Christmas trees as a long run for the short slide.

Aside from bad golf and visions of sugar-plums, I was feeling sad that I finished the Easy Rawlins series by Walter Mosley. I prowled around the internet to see if there was a new one on the horizon. There isn’t, but I found a six-book series by Mosley featuring Leonid McGill. I’m in the library queue for the first one, so I should get that next week.

Current reading is the Longmire series by Craig Johnson. As for the books, I like them but don’t love them. I used to say that about men. With a few exceptions, it mostly still applies.

Free from Amazon Prime was a twister called Twenty Years Later by Charlie Donlea. It’s about a woman accused of murder and headed for a trial when she is killed on 9/11. An investigative reporter starts unraveling the story 20 years later, and there are surprises everywhere. I enjoyed it.

Have you seen Killers of the Flower Moon? I haven’t read the book, and I was thinking about doing that first, but this might be one time when the movie wins. However, I haven’t been to a theater in years, and I’m not sure I can sit for 3.5 hours. Still, I actually think I might rather sit in a theater for that duration as opposed to my living room …

Fewer distractions and the popcorn is better!

Dinged up and loving it

This week was our golf group’s Halloween tournament. I made cookies and bagged them up so everyone could grab and go. The cookies were a big hit, which is good, because I’m not the most social person on the planet, and maybe I got some good will points.

The cookie biz is a fun hobby if you’ve got a place to off-load them. I started after the first time I had cancer in 1999. As I was recovering, I thought, I need to try something that isn’t golf and isn’t work. I saw Martha Stewart baking and decorating these beautiful cookies, and I said, that’s it!

These days, I have tubs of cookie cutters, sanding sugars, piping bags and other supplies. In some ways, it’s similar to my woodburning hobby. Neither one is hard to do, but they’re both time-consuming. But that’s what I like … gets me out of my own head.

I was on the way to play golf one day last week, when a truck pulled out in front of me presumably because he couldn’t stand being behind another truck for another second. Something about that transaction resulted in the spewing of rocks, which hit the windshield of my brand-new car.

As my mother used to say, I can’t have nice things.

Anyway, the result was two tiny dings. My insurance company paid to repair them – no deductible applied. The dings are sealed and safe and barely noticeable, but I still see them, of course. Honestly, as a recovering perfectionist, they don’t bother me. It’s just a car. I wasn’t injured. We all get dinged up in the end.

I’m surprised and happy I didn’t go all psycho because my pretty car got a boo-boo. I have come a long way. I attribute my progress to retirement. Aging. At some point, you just can’t hang onto that stuff.

Speaking of aging and dings, a close friend of mine is getting her face done. You know, injectables and all that. She has done it before with fantastic results. I was happy for her then, and I’m happy for her now. She’s had her share of life’s unwanted gifts, and a subtle tightening of the face lifted her spirits immeasurably.

But I do wonder if I’m going to be the only one left who looks my age. I squandered some time the other day looking at before and after pictures, and it’s impressive stuff. I even looked pictures of women with gray hair who decided to go back to dying it.

It seems to me if you have the money and the will, you can easily look 10 years younger. It was tempting for a minute or two, but I actually like how I’ve aged – gray hair, dings and all. I care more about keeping my body in reasonably good shape so I can continue to enjoy outdoor activities. I played golf earlier this week with a 92-year-old man who walked the course at a brisk pace.

My role model!

All in all, I’m exceedingly grateful my back is cooperating. A bad back is a big ding. I rarely have pain, but if I do, all I take is Advil or Tylenol. But then I’m quite faithful to my daily stretching regime. One of the women in my golf group has a similar diagnosis as mine (herniated disc, spinal stenosis). She said it never occurred to her to stretch. She said that’s what pain killers are for.

I told her about John Sarno’s book, Healing Back Pain. I’ve written about this before. He believed a lot of pain is the result of repressed anger and other emotions. After reading the book, I worked through some lifelong issues. I believe releasing all that baggage, along with my stretches, helped me recover from what was sometimes debilitating back pain.

For me, the key was forgiveness. But it took me a while to figure out the most important person to forgive was myself.

My golf acquaintance seemed receptive to the concept of the mind-body connection. I saw her yesterday and said, “How’s your back?” She said, fine, I just popped a (insert name of pill here).

I guess everyone has to find their way own through the valley of dings.

A little road trip and new art

Unlike many retirees, Dale and I don’t like to travel all that much, but I’m pleased to report our overnighter to Sonoma was great. It’s an easy drive – just under two hours – and the weather was spectacular. You hardly have to pack anything for such a short trip, and there’s no stress. The toughest part was leaving the kitty, but Riley is good by himself for one night (although I’m pretty sure he doesn’t think so).

While we’ve been in and out of Sonoma before, this was our first time staying overnight. We stopped on the way at the Gundlach Bundschu winery for a tasting. I never liked the idea of wine tasting as a hobby until I realized it’s a great way to buy wine. No surprises. We try to keep a hearty stash in the wine rack and seldom buy wine from the market. I do love California!

The wine was quite good, but we only liked two of the six we tried. We bought two bottles of Sauvignon Blanc and two bottles of a Cabernet Sauvignon-Malbec blend. The venue is quite lovely, and although we didn’t eat, we saw some tempting charcuterie plates.

The good news is there are more than 400 wineries in Sonoma County, so I don’t think we’ll run out of options.

We stayed at the El Dorado Hotel on the square in downtown Sonoma. We got there a little early and just walked all around town. There are some nice stores, and it was fun to wander about. We checked in around 4 p.m. and sat out on our balcony people-watching.

There are tons of restaurants, but I wanted to try The Girl and The Fig, which is highly regarded – and directly across the street from the hotel. The only reservation available was 5:30 p.m., which Dale views as the early bird special, but the place was packed.

Dale had steak tartare as an appetizer and duck confit for his entrée. I was lucky enough to get a bite of his steak tartare, which was fabulous. The duck confit was good, but he said he wouldn’t get it again. I tasted it and agreed.

I chose the Bistro Plats du Jour. That would include three courses with wine pairings. The appetizer was crispy chicken livers with an arugula salad. The chicken livers were a bit overcooked, but they were good. The star of the show was my entrée … trout meuniere. The fish was fresh and tender, the skin was shatteringly crisp and the sauce was sublime. The plate included wilted kale, which was excellent, and fingerling potatoes, which I didn’t care for.

However, that trout may be some of the best fish I have ever eaten.

We shared my dessert, which was a pear-hazelnut cake with yummy vanilla anglaise and a cherry reduction. Pretty damned good.

That’s the first time we’ve been out since June, and before that, who knows? We’re almost always disappointed when we dine out, but this time, we were mostly thrilled. A few small things could be improved upon. All in all, we’d go back but skip the duck confit.

And we’d definitely go back to Sonoma. There was sort of a laid back vibe we liked a lot. We’ve been looking for a place that would be sort of our go-to escape when we feel the need, and Sonoma is definitely a contender. There’s a lot to do in the area, and downtown would be a nice homebase.

I guess this shouldn’t be a surprise since I’ve often described us as reluctant travelers, but our habit on the day of departure – even a one-nighter – is to get up and go. We were headed home by 7:30 a.m. with just a cup of coffee to get us out the door.

No lollygagging for us. I said in my outside voice that maybe we should try to change, you know, be better tourists, hang around, see more, do more. However, we quickly agreed that was crazy talk. Let’s just accept who we are and do what we want. Wow, there’s a novel concept.

For some reason, I didn’t work on my art much this summer. Maybe because it’s hot out in the garage? My sister is a quilter, and she said she doesn’t seem to get much done in the summer, either. But I’m back in the saddle and present for your viewing pleasure, Number 39.

This one is kind of weird. I’m continuing to push myself in trying to capture realistic images, as opposed to doodles. I’m not shamed to admit I sometimes trace and transfer images! On this piece, I was inspired by science fiction and monster movies. I’m pretty happy with how it turned out. I love the monster on the left.

It’s quite the imperfect piece. I keep telling myself, so what? It was just scrap wood. It seems to me that for most of us life is a study in imperfection, but isn’t it interesting how we keep wrestling with it? If anything, creating art has helped me tame my perfectionist nature.