Wild Women Do NOT Have The Blues

Today is the day of my triumphant reunion with Mr. Schleckah.

He has been gone for such a long time.

Here are the peeps who visited me here at my Personal Bachelorette Home while Bill was off on Doggie Doodie Duty.

Peter
Martha
Jennie
Michael
Elizabeth
Jennie again
Paul
Mom
Dad
Ann
Jennie again
Nancy
Jon
Zöe
Peter again
Martha again
Jennie again

(Anyone who didn’t come over, you should have: it was fun.)

I have seen all these peeps since the last time I have seen the Schleckah.

Schleckah, on the other hand, has seen a lot of dog.

Here’s part of a typical email from his week:

Doggies woke me up at 7 a.m. It takes like a freakin' hour to walk, feed, give pills, all before I have coffee. Then I go back into the bedroom and see that one of them (most likely Maggie) has pee'd all over the rug (big wet spot). I can't find any cleaning products. Wiped it with water and paper towel. Looks like shit.

Going up to make coffee.

Love, Mistah Schleckah

One day all 3 doggies had a poop party and Bill had to clean up six separate piles of poop from the living room floor.

As my niece used to say when she was a wee baby: “Poo poo stinky!” To which Jacquie would reply, “Poo poo *IS* stinky, Honey.”

Which I think Mr. Schleckah has discovered.

Since there are no dogs pooping around here, I’ve had time to organize some Home Improvements while Mistah’s been gone.

What once was bare . . .

. . . is now full of joy and happiness:

My Dad hang our Caribbean triptych (by St. John artist Elaine Estern), while Mom, my sister Ann, my friend Jennie and I were the peanut gallery gave him lots of helpful advice.

He also hung Wild Women Don’t Have the Blues:

(The print isn’t crooked; my photography is).

I just looked up the title, because I heard a rumor it was a book. I don’t think it is, but there is a documentary called Wild Women Don’t have the Blues directed by Christine Dall which sounds great: Blues music is an intrinsic part of American life and this documentary looks at Bessie Smith, Ma Rainey, Ethel Waters and other female pioneers of the blues and how they transformed southern field tunes into such evocative, vital music.

The artist is Jim Tanaka. He’s a former Walt Disney artist who studied in New York and was influenced by the jazz greats, especially at the Savoy Ballroom.

I just read a hilarious interview with him – he was 85 (in 2002) and when the interviewer asked him questions about various works, Tanaka kept replying, “I painted that? Gosh, you remind me of so many things!”

I’ve been kidding with my friends all week that although I’m having a really great time alone, I am, really, one of these days, going to start missing the Schleckah. Really soon.

Then I just got this email from him this morning. Unlike me, he took it easy last night:

I feel great today, as I eased off the Kettle early and ate a big left-over pasta dinner. Of course, I've been up since about 6:30 a.m. thanks to my friends, Big Hanna, Sally and Hop-along Skip.

Hopefully you'll feel good later -- I'm sure Ms. Boogsie will help cut through your hangover.

Love, Mr.

I think now, finally, the day I’m going to see him, I miss him.

See you soon, Mr. Schleckah:

And I’ll see YOU soon, too, Ms. Schnookie-pie.

Oh. And I guess I’ll see you guys too:

We’re gonna have so much fun………