Miscellania

Last week I went to the author luncheon held here monthly. The handsome "young" man is Batt Humphries. Batt was a producer for NBC in New York for 15 years and then "retired" to Charleston to write his book Dead Weight based on a true story that happened in Charleston around 1910. I loved the book and pretty much read it straight through in a day.

Yesterday I went to the Hartsville Memorial Library Reading Club meeting held at an artsy restaurant here called Saffron. There were ten of us present. I knew about half and the other half are new friends :) We all read Time is a River by Mary Alice Monroe. Another Charleston author. The book was about a woman who takes up fly fishing and gets over some recent traumas in her life. I liked it so much I am looking for fly fishing lessons and a place to fish. (Hubs says, Get real! But he also wants to go if I get it worked out :)

This picture is a clue to another new interest in my life. This is my grandfather's violin and lovely alligator case. Grandfather, Dr. Thomas Gates, had a band in the Washington, DC area called The Hired Hands. They played on the radio in the early 1900's. I have just had it restrung and the bow fixed. I have not yet found a teacher....the one I am hoping to get is out of town. In case you are thinking I may have inherited some musical ability from my grandfather, remember I am adopted and have shown no musical ability thus far but I heard on NPR yesterday artistic talent is 89% work. However, I am not known to want to work hard either. We shall see.

Today Hubs and I decided since it had cooled off we would do some yard work. After an hour we were both drenched in sweat and decided to call it a day. It was 10 AM then when I came in and checked the thermometer to find it was 77.9%. We were sure it was AT LEAST 100%. Our thermostats must be out of whack.

Farmer Fran did get to drive the tractor for a nano second. The rest of the time was good old manual labor (I hate it).

Tomorrow I am off to Lucy's to make a male black doll in honor of our beloved tenant farmer/friend/father figure, Mr. Willie Adams. He was such a neat, cheerful person (even when he wasn't drinking). He could tell the best stories about Curtis growing up. He was always encouraging about the farm even when it hadn't rained in six months. He raised 13 children in a dilapidated tenant house on our farm....no indoor plumbing....I'm not even sure they had electricity.

Well that's it for old Donnamo today. What are you folks up to? No good, I bet :)