Sounds Exciting

Five morels this evening. Cook them in butter and have them on toast. Having just read Chichester, I have beans on toast as well. James assures me it is a proper English breakfast. Surprisingly good. Francis ate them all the time, on his trip around the world. One of the indexes, indicies, is a list of everything in the boat and where it is. Fascinating. Every article of food for four months, which tub it was stored in, and where the tub was. An important list. He was vegetarian for that trip, but eating fish. Fresh food kept better on the second leg, from Sydney back to Plymouth, arrived home with a few potatoes left, and a lemon. Most everything else tinned, beans, soup, butter, tuna, fruit. I love a good list and this one goes on for several pages. He baked his own bread, learned and perfected his technique the year before he set sail. Took about 50 pounds of whole-wheat flour, broken into smaller units, double-sealed, and stashed everywhere, which was good, because he did capsize (the boat was self-righting) and took on water constantly, especially down in the roaring forties. Small chores at the museum. Trying to create some space to store all the pedestals, most of which will be coming out of the two main galleries at the next turn-around. All storage space is currently filled with the crates for the "Relief In Wood" show. Juggling, looking at the calendar. One more show to install upstairs, then the trip, then the big turn-around. "The Cream Of The Crop", biennial juried local (within 85 miles (eliminates Columbus and Cincy)) show is installed in all three galleries, and that starts the day I get back. Take down "Relief" and whatever is still upstairs, patch and repair all of the galleries, and install a huge show. Sounds exciting and it will be a lot of fun, in addition to serious work and constant attention. Back in that same old role, stage managing and arranging logistics. A comfortable pair of shoes and I can do this. Sometimes I need a stop-watch. Parked at the bottom of the hill because they're calling for severe thunder storms later, needed to assure an early arrival at work tomorrow, because the museum list is growing by leaps and bounds. Walked up. The change, on the color meter, is striking. Now there is a little green everywhere I look. The poplar buds are leafing, the blackberry canes are leafing, the sassafras is outrageous. There's a clear view of the opposite hollow wall, where I can see, a tree fell, on my side, and cleared a line-of-sight. That slope, over there, is greening too, and I can no longer see the ground, even with my glasses. Owning a drainage is special, you get to see everything. I transplant some watercress. If you've never had watercress and butter sandwiches, on white bread with no crusts, you wouldn't have a clue what I meant. How important it could be. Stick your head outside the roof rack and drive with your feet.