hairy times

i must be my own worst enemy. 

i have been trying to write posts regularly and for unknown reasons, which i shall assign to the gods of technological know-how, 

i lose them. 

yesterday, as the summer season came a little closer to its sad end, 

my son borrowed my computer to make a film for his colleagues at work.

if nothing, i am a little challenged to use anyone else's magical computer 

for what i need to do.

with the duality of the boy who can whip computery things into small understandable pieces being at work AND with my computer being with him, 

i tried to use the family machine.

i wrote a nice blog post. 

it was full of photos and a fresh adventure i am on. 

and....

it was eaten by the other machine. 

truly, i was in saving mode. 

i just must have prematurely moved off of the page before it was done. 

i am so easily frustrated!!!

so this is the onset of a fresh search to use another vehicle to tap out my thoughts and show some of my photos. 

like you need a more stable and an easier mode for me to babble onward about my little oddball existence right? 

don't answer, the rejection may kill me. 

so here is what i was trying my best to say...

i guess the second time through will allow for brevity perhaps?

{sigh, doubtful,you know it's me...}

when i returned from my Block Island experiences, 

i came home to an even furrier house.

(a crossover from the lovely non-shedding dog...

 who sheds constantly 

and my beloved folks that do not know what a vacuum cleaner does.)

a family that stood around a peanut butter jar like a camp-fire,

 since they couldn't make food for themselves in my absence 

or phone up some take-out.

they were both very hungry and sitting amongst dog hair tumbleweeds. 

this of course was completely ignored. 

i was on a mission. 

yep. i had another goal in sight to try to harness. 

there is a man i have been playing phone tag with for about 3 weeks. 

the more i missed his phone calls, the more dedicated i became to reaching ahold of him. 

it had become absolutely absurd ....

and yes, again i was growing frustrated. 

however. 

i got him on tuesday morning. 

he is the most cheerful and able man. 

David Riordan. 

he is also the husband of the equally funny and fabulous 

Jennifer Neuguth.

together they have made a small fluctuatingly sized chain of stores called

OOP!

it has showcased some of the cleverest, wittiest and charming 

hand made contemporary art to be had.

their wares have been jewelry, furniture, wall art, stationery, wedding gifts, 

and many,many more  fun things.

as having a store or more than one of them,

 is like having a child with a lot of interests,

 they opted to try to pay the same kind of attention to their own kids. 

LUCKILY,

they also decided to host some shows. 

these have been really well publicized and attended shows, right out of the gate. 

i was lucky to try one out in june. 

it totally kicked butt... so i am doing a follow-up show on labor day weekend 

and whatever else follows that with it ending in the holiday season. 

i plan to attend these in between the emotionally charged experiences of taking my kids to college and trying to make some fresh pieces of jewelry. 

also david has started his own business as a  representative of artists.

after so many years in the gift business and running great stores, his new adventure has been to rep folks like me. 

i got more than one nudge to have his help in getting myself "out there".

a nudge is not what i need always. 

what i need is more like a push with a big yellow "caterpiller" truck with a plow on its front end. 

i am so easily stuck. 

also my own worst enemy as you may remember. 

i have posted previously about my radish-like personality... the one that finds a spot and does NOT MOVE.

anyways... digressing again. 

so David braved the "filth palace" as i name my home. 

he came here about 20 minutes after i finally got a voice to voice convo on. 

what a gentleman. he did not wince as he walked into my home. 

i appreciate that. 

we talked and he agreed to work with me. 

the pressure that was in play was that he was taking some of his other clients' 

samples to NYC for the very famous gift show there. 

in 4 days.

PANIC City. 

that's where i lived.

we shared about 30 other emails between us, as i tried to prepare to send him with some of my fabrications to the

 "big Shew" 

in the big apple. 

(and yes, i am so old, that i was able to watch Ed Sullivan on his variety show that long ago).

i made these bracelets for him to take along with him. 

he also took some flower pins ...

and some rings...

and some beaded chain necklaces...

and some bracelets...

and a few of my big statement necklaces. 

farmstand glory VI

 country wedding

 and 

Cotswold II

and now i am waiting to hear from the magical 

david. 

some messages have been sent my way, but they are cryptic to me. 

maybe because i need hand holding. 

maybe because i am really nervous about the outcome. 

maybe because they are incomplete. 

i am trying my most extreme best to be patient. 

and it is pretty hard . 

as a result, i shall vacuum up the dog hair. 

i will also continue to try readying

 kids for upcoming school adventures.

one is living in Boston, in an apartment rented for students of the co-op program at her univ. 

the second is moving 5 1/2 hours from home.

where boots are as essential as hockey equipment.

 the third is starting high school and will be playing a sport she has never played before. 

(i love her bravado, she looked the rules of the game up on the internet and in spite of never having played before, is certain she will be a varsity player.

i admire that sense of certainty and optimism.) 

it is gonna be hairy here for many different reasons than the sweet shedding dog. 

can you see why i am all kinds of nutsy?

it is a life change in a different way. 

and it all starts whether i want it to or not. 

so my fingers are crossed. 

and it is time to copy this and paste it into MY computer somewhere. 

before i lose another thing. 

happy thoughts folks!

xoxo. 

W.