Monday, May 18, 2020

The Art of the Pour

Here's the thing about a global pandemic and self-isolating.

Friends are great and food is great and Fielding is great and flowers are great -- oh, the flowers -- and walking is great and cleaning is okay and reading is superiorly great . . .

. . . but do you know what else is supremely great? Drinkie-poos.

I enjoy myself a delicious drinkie-poo at the end of -- okay, at the end of the late afternoon of -- a day in the covid fields.

Why wouldn't I?

Sometimes I have a Mistah to join . . .

. . . that's always my hope . . .

. . .  but it usually begins with drinkie-poo-for-one.

(And it's usually not a margie but hey, it was the weekend. As evinced by my weed wacker wack job.)

But the thing about Mistah?

He crafts his beverages and then he crafts his photos . . .

. . . he's an arteest . . .

. . . See?!


And I am forever grateful.

For Mistah's artistry . . .

  . . . and for this week's incredible purple irises . . .

 . . . and for wine.


Monday, May 11, 2020

Mom

We had the great good fortune to be able to drive down to Mom's to social-distance-visit and bring bruncheon and share a bottle or two of bubbly and not hug yesterday . . .

Happy Mother's Day, Mom!

We're starting to get this bruncheon-in-the-driveway-thing down . . .

. . . but not-hugging is hard work.

And doesn't Mom look gorgeous? Who rocks a red leather jacket better than Mom?

Nobody, that's who.

When we finished bruncheon and finished the tiny tasks Mom had for us to do, we had one more tiny task of our own to preform . . .

. . . Mistah and I got to deliver a present from all of the Corey sisters to Mom . . .

. . . Mom was awestruck.

. . . and there may or may not have been a few tears . . .

. . . but I'm pretty sure she's pretty happy about her new laptop.

You deserve it, Mom, because you're the very best.

We love you.

Monday, May 4, 2020

Visitation Nation

There was no hugging, but there was a whole lot of social-distance visiting on a spectacular weekend.

There were these long and lean cuties . . .

. . . who biked to the beach both weekend days.

Bye, guys! Thanks for stopping by!

There was this fella, lurking in the background . . .

Huh. I really should change out of my Field clothes when visitors visit . . .

There was our favorite Freighbor Family, and yes the camera was on double-exposure . . .

. . . so really it was like having six of them visit.

Just the way we like it.

And there was this little doll-face . . .

. . . isn't she the cutest?

Her life going to dramatically change in a few months.
Enjoy being an only child while it lasts, honey!

And there was, of course, The Field . . .

. . . and we were proud to be its Visitors . . .

. . . and we are forever grateful for that.

And me? Well, I was Lord Muck, as my father-in-law used to say.

Lording over it all.

Monday, April 27, 2020

Oxygen

I love oxygen.

I need so much oxygen.

And these days, thankfully . . .

. . . I'm getting my fair share of it . . .

. . . bucketloads of it . . .

. . . wheelbarrows full.

There is no shortage of that delicious Oxygen out there . . .

. . . Breathe.

Monday, April 20, 2020

75 Minutes

My life is all of a sudden constructed of an-hour-and-15-minutes chunks of time.

My daily walk is an-hour-and-15-minutes . . .

. . . and the world is beautiful out there.

Yes, I do typically go a little farther afield than the Field, but it sure is gorgeous these days . . .

Hey, wait a minute. That's not the world . . . that's our Kat Murphy!

Anyway.

The drive to my mom's house takes an-hour-and-15-minutes.

Safe-Distance-Luncheon with my Mom in her driveway? You guessed it. An-hour-and-15-minutes

The drive home?

Why yes! An-hour-and-15. I didn't take any photos because I was driving, but man, did it feel exhilarating to be on the Open Road.

Zooming with friends? . . .

. . . fit right into the newly-defining time slot. That's our Zoom set-up. Mistah insists on using that reflector so we are seen in good light.

And speaking of Mistah . . .

. . .  there he is!

And see that beautiful-looking drinkie-poo on the left of the speaker?

She's ready for her close up . . . 

The only thing that doesn't take an-hour-and-15 minutes in this new life of ours . . .

. . . is Fielding. Fielding is eternal and infinite and a world of zen-like bliss . . .

. . . okay, that may be too much bliss.

But speaking of Field Blissfulness . . .

 . . . stay tuned . . .

. . . we've got some exciting blissful projects developing . . .


HBMBC!

Monday, April 13, 2020

Two Three Four!

One million years ago, we went to a concert at the Garde, and I talked about it because the Mavericks played one of our all-time favorite Mavericks songs -- just for us! -- that we like to call . . .

. . . Two Three Four!

Well, we don't get to go to concerts now. And well, we don't get to do a lot out there in the outer world any more. But, hey, we do get to do a lot in the inner world.

The Mumsie Orchid, for example? Well, she loves the inner world. Plus she loves the Mavericks too . . .

Wait, let me show you. Ready, Mumsie Orchid . . . ?

Hit it!

All You Ever All you ever do is bring me down 

Making me a fool all over town 

They all wonder why I wear a frown 

That's 'cause honey all you ever do is bring me down 

That's 'cause honey all you ever do is bring me down 

Honey all you ever do is bring me down . . . 

. . . Two . . .

. . . Three . . .

. . . Four!

Wait a second. Raul Malo's going to have to change the lyrics.

Monday, April 6, 2020

Puzzling Behavior

We had a long discussion about jigsaw puzzles during the book club I attend with Mom a couple of months ago -- back in the olden days of 15 or 20 people gathered in a room together, sitting next to eachother and breathing on eachother . . . remember those days?

Mom and I -- both NYTimes crossword enthusiasts -- poopoo-ed the whole idea of jigsaw puzzles, despite Megan's protestations they they are relaxing, and zen-like in their demand for focus and attention. It's not that Mom and I considered them lesser and pedestrian and somehow unworthy, not really . . . or . . . well . . . maybe we did.

I wish I had a jigsaw puzzle now.

Actually, I wish I had access to the New York Times paper puzzles, but although we subscribe online, I don't actually want to get the physical daily paper because 1) I prefer to keep my head buried in the sand and 2) who can get away from the constant news anyway? Nobody, that's who.

So while I do not have a daily puzzle to keep me entertainingly diverted, what I do have is this puzzle supplement the Times puts out once or twice a year, which my friend Louis gave me a few months ago. A few of the puzzles I tore through immediately because holy moly do I love this kind:

. . . and this kind:

. . . and this kind:

. . . and of course, there's the Big Daddy which is fun and easy and which I've been doing a little bit of every day:

The other day, though, when I was opening up the section to work on a little bit of said Big Daddy, the front cover caught my eye and I became immediately enamored and set to work.

The instructions are bananas:

But then it all became a little more clear and I involved Mistah and we've been chipping away at it all weekend long . . .

Oh yeah. We've practically invented fun around here . . .

So, no. No, I don't have a jigsaw puzzle. But I do have this one up next:

Bring it.

Monday, March 30, 2020

And on it goes . . .

Let's start with this . . .

And move on to this . . .

Mistah took a photo to show Mom my fancy sleeves while we were talking on the phone Saturday afternoon . . . hey, if you can't get fancy for Saturday night, when can you get fancy?

And in the meantime, our favorite young friend turned two for pete's sake and we got to real facetime him . . .

. . . this is a screen shot, not a video. But let's face it, a video would barely be able to contain our vast talents anyway . . .

I think this happened on Saturday too -- Mistah squeezing lemon onto his smoked salmon.

Because, why should we suffer?

And this happened somewhere in there too; who can keep track?

And then Sunday morning happened and the Mithells made everything better . . .

That's My Girl Nancy . . .

. . . and that's Fresh Jonny's eyeball . . .

. . . and that's our girl Zozo . . .

. . . and that's Poopie.

We inexplicably did not take a photo while on with my godson and I'm sorry about that because we had a *lot* of facetime with that kid.
Hey dude. I mean, 'Sup, bro? And hello to the lovely Andrea too. We loved our Sunday morning together.

Here's the thing. The weather on Sunday was downright mean around these parts. The wind and the rain and the cold did not make it easy for the citizens of this planet -- we had to struggle to keep it together . . .

. . . and it's only us -- just we lowly, humble, unassuming peeps -- who have only ourselves and eachother to try to continue to keep it together.

I feel for all the peeps out there who are struggling through these days. It's hard to SPO. To Sustain Productivity and Optimism. But good God I'm trying. We've got to try, right?

Call your friends. Call your neighbors. Call us.

And when all else fails? Call your sister Jane to ask her the rules, go out to the Westy for a deck of cards, and then . . .

. . . play Crazy 8s.*

(*I won.)