Taken yesterday during a supremely sunny day. Today, on the other hand, is gray and cloudy and we have rain forecast for tomorrow. Oh – the sun just peeked out for a second. What a difference that makes!

We are immersed in Season 3 of Babylon Berlin – to me, the finest series I have even seen. It’s a relief to know that this season is just as good on every level as the first two. I’m just about to finish M Train  by Patti Smith. Don read Year of the Monkey  all day yesterday and he finished it late in the afternoon. Soon – when I finish – we’ll trade books.

These rocks – rose/pink agate and a geode – have been with me since my childhood. I was always fascinated by rocks and gems, routinely gathering them on family vacations – especially that well known stone from Northern Michigan, the Petoskey Stone.

We had a family friend who lived in Arizona and he collected and polished rocks. I was fascinated by his work. I had visions of him scaling mountains, chipping away at rocks, and then taking them to his workshop to polish. He gave me these. I used to have them on display in my childhood bedroom.

Over the years, as I moved from place to place, they were put in storage – in my red trunk that Don brought back from Detroit last year. I had conflicted feelings about the things in that trunk, if you remember. Too many memories of another time and place. So many, that I asked Don to take it all to our storage facility. But I kept the rocks, hiding them away inside some McCoy Pottery. Occasionally, I would pull them out and hold them.

I pulled them out today. I think it’s time to display them again. I’m not sure where…maybe on my desk? Or in the pink cabinet in the office?

Oh, some good news to share about something I never told you about. When we got back from Paris at the end of October, there was an official letter awaiting us from the State of New York. We were being audited. Neither of us had ever been audited before and I went into a panic. New York and California did not go along with the Federal Government’s tax bill/changes. They still support the deductions that actors and performers and freelancers and artists have always been allowed and that the federal changes took away, resulting in our having to pay several thousand dollars in taxes, far more than we had ever had to pay before. I suspected the return was flagged because Don had to live in NYC for six months during the run of Margaritaville – was required to – which resulted in far more deductions than we’ve taken in the past.

We contacted our tax preparer (she lives in California,) signed over Power of Attorney, and proceeded to gather every bit of documentation we could to support our claim. This took some time, of course, and I don’t mind telling you I was very nervous the whole time. Finally, on New Year’s Day as a matter of fact, we spent 5 hours collating and copying and writing a detailed document explaining everything and we sent it off to California the next day.

I was pretty sure that we’d lose money – maybe all of it; that something, or a lot of things, wouldn’t be allowed. I resigned myself to it. Both of us ended up feeling at peace with the investigation, knowing we had been honest, that everything had been documented, and that if there were any errors, they had been unintentional.

Fast forward to one week ago. I went online to check our bank balance and it was far more than I had expected. I looked at the statement and there was our refund.  Plus interest. The entire amount. I yelled to Don, who panicked thinking something had happened to me. No, I said. Good news!

I have to tell you that I didn’t expect it and I was delighted and so, so relieved. We are scrupulously honest and it bothered me that we might be perceived as dishonest. Just the other day, we received the official letter from the State. I feel like framing it (just kidding!) That audit had stayed in our daily consciousness for four months and leaving it behind – officially – is an enormous relief.

Happy Monday.

Stairway art, part 1.

I’ll do part 2 tomorrow as I didn’t get a particularly crisp picture of that part of the wall.

The “Life is Very Short”….finger is a new piece made to look old. I got it at the Country Living Fair several years ago as a present for Don.

Next to it, a modern print that Don loves.

Above and to the left, an oil painted by my Great-aunt Ruth. She was a talented artist. This hung in my grandmother’s home for years.

Next to that a cow print that we love.

Above the cow print, a little framed piece that I found in an antique shop and a piece of architectural salvage.

To the right: two oil paintings by my dad. The top painting is of a beach and waves breaking on rocks. The other, below it, is of our cottage. My dad painted this for us right after we moved in. What makes this especially delightful is the yellow exterior. Our exterior is a green-gray, but Dad looked at the photo and thought it was yellow.

Top row, on the left: a Norman Rockwell print of Main Street in Stockbridge, Massachusetts, including the building in which he had a studio.

Next to that, a very old landscape that we found in San Diego. It needs a good cleaning, but I sort of love its dark tones.

Next to that, another oil painting by my Aunt Ruth, this time of their childhood home on the family farm in Orillia, Ontario.

________

It’s rainy and gray today. Most of the snow is gone. We may be getting more tomorrow night. We’re headed to the grocery store this morning and will be running a few errands, as well.

We watched Stagecoach  on TCM last night. It’s one of my favorite movies. Don was reluctant, but I managed to persuade him and, in the end, he loved seeing it again. A great old John Ford movie with a very young John Wayne and a cast of wonderful actors. It’s my favorite John Wayne performance and Claire Trevor breaks my heart, every darned time.

Happy Tuesday.

That’s all I’ve got for you. We woke up at 4:30, which is way too early. I’ll have to watch myself today. I’ve already been ‘prickly’ this morning – a word Don used, and he’s right. I wish I was the sort who could get by on less sleep, but I’ve never been that way. Not even when I was a kid. But I sure wish I was.

Anyway. It’s now 3 hours later and Don is making sugar-free pancakes because we need a treat and then I’ll get ready to take my car to the dealer for two new tires. Don’s car is still in the shop. Hopefully, he’ll get it back today. I spent an inordinate amount of time yesterday trying to figure out the logistics of getting to Hartford, but in the end, I can’t do anything until I see how the weather turns out tomorrow. It’s not looking good. I informed the Stage Manager of my dilemma and she mentioned that if I do indeed end up there on Friday rather than Thursday, I would need to spend the night as there will be no time for me to give notes at the end of the run-through and I’d have to give them on Saturday at rehearsal. It’s all rather complicated at the moment and I’m just going to concentrate on getting the new tires and running a couple of errands today.

We’re watching Collateral  on Netflix, a British limited-run series. Very, very good. It’s only four episodes and we’ll watch the last one tonight.

In the past couple of days, I’ve read a couple of posts on IG and Facebook from people I know defending Trump. In one case, I engaged, which is always fruitless. In another I engaged but immediately deleted my post – that was this morning. In all cases, I feel such disappointment that someone I thought I knew and respected would still  be supporting – after all we now know – this man. I suppose they feel the same about me. It’s all so disillusioning. As Don says, it’s as if they never read “The Book.” “The Book” is a symbol for how we were raised: how you treat people, what is right and what is wrong, how you address your elders, that it’s wrong to lie, that’s it’s wrong to bully people, that it’s wrong to call people names, that it’s wrong to break the law, that it’s wrong to make fun of the disabled or of anyone, that we are all one, and that it is wrong to treat anyone as ‘less than.’ I was raised by the rules of that book, raised on the Ten Commandments. Yet there are a lot of people supporting and condoning the actions of someone who actively flouts all of those things and is proud of it.

I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s baffling and will remain so. It’s as if everything my parents believed to be true and upright and good and just plain decent behavior has been tossed out the window. Actually, it’s been trampled on. I know I’m tired at the moment I’m writing this, but I felt the same thing yesterday. And every day since 2016. Was I simply naive about the world? I think I must have been.

Anyway, enough. I am always cheered by the goodness I read about every day. That’s what I have to concentrate on. The truly good deeds done on a daily basis. I have to believe that is who we really  are. Isn’t there something in the Bible about ‘lost lambs?’ Hopefully, they’ll find their way home.

Much love to you.

Happy Wednesday,