A Day in the Life

The day began at 7:00 am with an urgent call to do something about all that the coffee I drank last evening before going to bed. And, there nibbling away on grass in the botanical garden, was a full sized doe just outside my window not more than 20 feet away. She soon sensed that she was being watched, twitched her tail, and moved on.

After dinner on Friday, I had begun my first real piece of sculpture. (The bottle tree was more craftwork and the sun piece was mostly welding practice.) So, I'm welding one piece and then another and then another. The next thing I know it's 2:00 in the morning and I've got a tee time in seven hours! (Now you know why I didn't make a putt all day.) After golf on Saturday, I finish welding and on Sunday it was time to prime the metal and paint the piece. It dried overnight and at 7:00 this morning I'm ready to mount it on the rock foundation I made for it yesterday.

Here it is the results that I've named Lady Madonna. About 4 feet tall, it's really a Cubist piece with no two plates in the same plane and no body parts in exactly the right places. Although all the plates are the same color, each reflects light differently and provides contrast between the plates. I really like it.

The piece got me so pump that later in early morning I began building a welding table from odd pieces of wood left over from the woodshed and from parts of the loft that the children took to various colleges over the years. The table frame fits a shet of metal that I had bought for the purpose at the scrapyard for $10. When finished, the table should make welding easier. That, and the professional lessons I got from Tom R. last week.

Sam and I took our morning walk on my trails in the woods and we found two stones to serve as the children at Lady Madonna's feet. They aren't shown in the photo.

After lunch I went into town to proof my calling cards. The printer calls them business cards but retired people do not have a need for business cards. We carry calling cards. Anyhow, the proofs were fine and I asked when the cards would be ready. Three to five days. Things move at a different pace in the mountains!

While I know of no place to get good barbecue commercially west of the Yadkin River, I am convinced that it is theoretically possible and I'm still toying with the idea of opening a barbecue joint of some kind in Sparta. Accordingly, I stopped by City Hall to check on burning wood down to coals for making barbecue within the city limits. That got the city manager out of his office post haste. He knew of no ordinances against burning wood down to coals for making barbecue within the city limits, but, in true bureaucratic fashion, he will check with the city fathers and get back to me in a few days. I can just smell that sweet scent of barbecure drifting up Main Street right now. Can't you?

Then it was home for that all important afternoon nap.

My neighbor had given me some fresh basil and parsley from their garden and I had developed a hankering for Something Itsalian for dinner. So, I picked up some hot Italian sausages while in town and made a ragu for dinner. Here it is served over a pile of #79 rigatoni with a glass of red Italian wine.


Man, was it good, if I do say so myself. One of my old German grandfathers must have brought back an Italian wife while on a Crusade or something.

You, too, can enjoy this simple meal. Just wilt some onions, green peppers and garlic in olive oil. Add a can of whole tomatoes and crush them in the pot. I added fresh oregano, marjoram, and thyme along with the Italian sausage cut into bite-sized pieces plus the parsley and some Parmesan cheese. Cook until you cannot stand to wait any longer and add the fresh basil while the pasta is cooking. Skim off the brownish fat on the top and serve over the rigatoni with a splash of fresh Parmesan cheese. This dish, eaten too often, may cause you to have a massive coronary at 3:00 in the morning but, folks, you will die happy.

Now, as for the Italian wine, there is a guy named Robert Stock who lives in Haw River, NC and imports wine from small Italian wineries. His taste in wine matches mine wine for wine and I'll buy anything he brings in. Give him a try. Lately, because of a lawsuit of some kind, he goes by the name of The Haw River Wine Man or something like that. Oh, and the prices of his wines are very reasonable with most under $10 a bottle.

So, there you have my day. Unfortunately, that was nothing like it was suppose to be. You see, we have house guests coming in on Wednesday for a golf tournament and I was suppose to be cleaning house all day.

Oh, well, there is always tomorrow ...