Based on the lack of comments on yesterday's post, I'd say that you would prefer I stick with posting about that other kind of string. You know, the kind used to make a whole bunch of painstaking little x's that usually result in a fabulous finished piece of art? Let's face it, we've all stitched not-so-fabulous designs, haven't we? Some of my own earlier designs make me shake my head today.
Hopefully this up-and-coming yet-to-be-released sampler will only bring about head nods...
Speaking of bucket lists, and not waiting to have fun... wanna meet my new love?
An Ibanez SR500PB with Bartolini pickups... yes, its still a little Greek to me too, but I can't begin to tell you how much fun I'm having learning to play him/it/her.
Apparently, in any language that assigns gender to words, standard guitars are female and bass guitars are male. So there are people out there that have written page after page of comments in guitar forums stating their opinions on what type of names are appropriate to give your stringed instrument.
Yes, I do plan on naming my guitar.
My car is named "The Smoke Monster" (not because it smokes, but as a tip-of-the-hat to one of my all-time favorite TV shows), and I used to name all of my houseplants, so why not name my bass as well?
For now, I'm referring to it as "My Precious".
Who knows, that name might stick. Although I'm also considering "Mabel", contrary to the opinions of the guitar-gender-police, as well as a short list of a few other names.
I'm still a total beginner, but had so much fun with the borrowed bass that I just knew I needed to take the next step and get my own gear. I walked into the Guitar Center that day thinking I was just going to look around but make no decisions. I should have known. It was love at first sight.
I completely avoided getting it down because it was in a different price bracket than I had anticipated, but when the store employee came over to help and suggested that very one (I swear I wasn't even looking in that direction, so he had no clue), then proceeded to tell me all the reasons he would buy it himself if he was in the market... well, it was all the nudging I needed.
Now I have to work really hard to become a bassist worthy of her instrument.
We have talked about getting a telescope for years and years and years. Way back before there were children in the house, the Farmboy and I wanted to look at the planets and stars together. But we never got around to it.
Finally, too many thousands of hours later, we took the opportunity to redeem some credit miles for a Carson RedPlanet. The day it arrived was clear and warm, and we raced to get it set up and dialed in before darktime.
And what was the first thing we wanted to look at? Our "star"... the one we together would look at out of our respective windows when talking on the phone during our dating months.
Now, I am not an art journalist. Yes, I do keep a journal, and have off and on for years, but its pretty much about writing, and not art. So when my friend asked if I would be a guest host for this year, I was completely confused and unsure what I could possibly contribute.
I think perhaps I've started to "get" it, though, and am thankful that she has made allowances for those of us that prefer to let our cameras capture the art in life.
Twice monthly, she asks for us to either journal or photograph in response to a specific theme, the year's overall theme being in collaboration with Monday Mugshots, so the posts also need to incorporate mugs or coffee in some way.
In response to the theme "What if..." this is what I posted:
What if... about a year into my tenure at Boyd Coffee Company...
What if... I had taken that job offer in Colorado...
Would he have hunted me down as he says?
Would my last name start with a "T"?
Would my interest in antiques, papercutting, stitching have been encouraged?
Would those two Littles (see their silhouettes on the mantle) be mine?
Would I be ever grateful to a coffee company for playing matchmaker?
Not ones to get out and about that often, we nevertheless jumped at an opportunity to spend Mother's Day weekend in one of the high desert areas of Eastern Oregon.
Just a few hours' drive from our home, yet it felt like we were on an entirely different planet. All rolling hills of dry grasses and tumbleweed, with trees few and far between. This part of our state holds a beauty that is at once stark and sumptuous.
As we traveled along the mostly deserted roads, I kept expecting to see John Wayne or Michael Landon come riding over the next hill.
Our final destination was Treo Ranch, a family-owned estate that has converted from farming to hosting guided bird hunts.
This being a shared family weekend, the important parts were taken care of first, like a BB Gun safety course taught by the biggest gun safety stickler you may ever meet... my Farmboy.
Followed by the fun part... assisted balloon shooting for the littles.
And supervised balloon shooting for those with a little more experience.
And then the big boys got to go have a little fun while the rest of us stayed at the lodge and did our own thing.
Such as stalking an abandoned farmstead with my camera...
Yes, ladies and gents, these places do still exist in the dry landscape of Eastern Oregon. I wish I had a dollar for every abandoned old house we saw on our trip. I also wish I had the time to take pictures of each and every one of them.
If only those walls could talk.
By far the coolest discovery by the little people, was the triple-heaping mound of spent shotgun casings leftover from years of bird hunts. They don't leave that plastic out in the fields, but carefully bring it all back from their expeditions to gather in one place.
Thank you, Tim and Ericka, for inviting us to join you for a truly memorable weekend.
As we headed back home, I had to make sure to capture a Mother's Day 2013 photo with the two sweetest Pieces of my Heart.