Docent After Hours

Appropriately, listening the Barber, "The Hermit Songs". Beautiful morning, supposed to get into the sixties today, then back down to 28 degrees by Tuesday night. A walk down the logging road accompanied by three crows. The leaves are thick on the ground, and will be, until flattened by snow. Thinking about Cape Cod because Seven and Alan want to retire there and were asking me questions last night. The Museum After Hours went well, they brought me a bottle of Buffalo Trace whiskey and it lubricated the tour. Two hours went by quickly. I talked about Carter's family, got some things out of the vault. I think I'll be going through the Carter archives the rest of my life, because they exist, and we have them all. Mary saved everything. It's very cool to know the absolute provenance of a painting. The day by day account of getting a particular painting finished for a particular show. 1943 he was painter-in-residence at Chautauqua, where I'll be strangely following him; June, that year, he was finishing one of his most iconic paintings for a show at Carnegie. Won best in show, we have it, and I look at it every day. I know way more about that painting than I ever did about my wife. The covert woman from DC is in love with the idea of me. It's not the same, of course, that would be too easy. But it's in the changes that you learn, so it's better to lose face, once in a while, than to play shuffleboard and not have a clue. I'd rather be beaten with a bamboo stick. My left-handed curve ball is completely obvious: all of my life is, actually. To set the record straight, common red brick, has a specific gravity of 1.92 and weighs 120 pounds a cubic foot. Just so you'd know.