Some Headway

Sat at the front desk this morning, the volunteer was a no-show, and read a couple of essays about Rubens. A drawing of his sold for 48 million yesterday. In the afternoon I prepped some baseboard that needs painting, and cleared a path in the basement to where the pedestals are stored, brought up a few. The storage and tool room sections of the basement are a perfect mess. Mark and Charlotte told me today that they would do some of the painting on Saturday, that I wasn't to come to work, and that they realized I was overwhelmed. Gives me a chance to do my laundry. The ODC show comes in a week from tomorrow, and if I can paint a wall a day next week, we'll be ready for it. Better than I had hoped, actually. I get that show installed and I'm to going take off a week; read, do some editing, nap on the sofa. It's been a very hectic three years, D in grad school, Sara pulling back; and a hectic three months with the mess of remodeling, the long hours; and a hectic three weeks with D gone and the new co-directors. I'm about tapped out. We open the ODC show on July 12th, and it's going to be a big deal, patron party, fine wines, I'll probably make a pate, Pegi's girls serving in suggestive outfits. The usual loud laughs. Now I'll have to go to those things, because I'm a senior staff member. I keep my newest denim shirt and a sport's coat at the museum, so I can attend events; and I can make idle chat, I know a little bit about a great many things. I can do thirty minutes on the mating habits of frogs. papermaking, the birth of the Renaissance, Dame Nellie Melba; and I've acquired the ability to bullshit endlessly on subjects I don't know anything about. It's a talent. Not unlike hiking in new terrain. You tend to watch where you place your feet. Even in conversation I go back, replace a comma with a semi-colon. Keeping time. I look for a balance, not that I always find it, between what's happening in my life and the natural world. Take a walk, look at some flowers; drive slowly down a dirt road in the State Forest. The blackberries, where they're in full sun, are already turning red. A bumper crop. Ask away, there's no answer. Wilco, just make it stop, breaking my heart.