PLAN FOR THE DAY

My plan for the day was to mat and frame some photographs for a show I’m hanging in the spring. I’ve never done that before and I need help. Today my helper couldn’t make it so we rescheduled for another day. I called a friend and asked if he would help me size the gallery space, come up with the ideal number of pieces and frame sizes to best fit the room. So imagine two little old men with tape measures and sketchpad, fumbling around the gallery. Straight out, it was reminiscent of an old, Laurel & Hardy movie. We arranged empty frames up against blank panels and debated the merits of here or there, large or small, vertical or horizontal. After a couple of hours, we had a new plan. It looks like 23 pieces, plus or minus; and three different sizes. I love it when I have a plan. I never stick to the plan but it’s nice to know there is one. 

I’ve known Nelson since 2008; we go to the same church. We both have kids in Alaska and we teamed up on a big road trip. We drove my daughter’s car to Washington then took it on the boat, up the inland passage. He flew back after a week or so and I stayed in Anchorage for a couple of months. I hadn’t seen him recently; I was down on the gulf coast for thanksgiving and he was in N.Y. for the Macy’s Parade. His career was all about how crop insurance should work in 3rd world countries and mine was about teenagers and the difference between momentum and inertia. He is a good friend. 

It was lunch time when we finished and the weather today was unbelievable, Here it is, warm and sunny in mid December. We both wanted to eat outside as the weather will surely close down soon, leaving us to sit in a booth next to a window and watch winter go by. So we landed at a little sandwich shop on the Country Club Plaza. It’s a high end shopping district, built in the 20’s, with Spanish architecture and pricy shops. I had a salad and he got a sandwich. Our table was in a sunny corner, out of the wind. I have forgotten what we talked about but I always do. 

Nelson wanted to walk for a while, for exercise and to look in the shops. A young woman with dark, pulled back hair and full, rosy cheeks was stationed by the door of her store. It was a tea place. That’s it. They sold tea and tea pots. She had a couple of tea urns and lots of small cups for samples. While I was sipping my Orang Blossom tea, she updated me on the wonders of their exotic product. She said the sweetener was all natural and unprocessed. I asked if she had to go to Nepal to learn about unprocessed sweeteners. Nepal is after all, where Tea Gods dwell. She told me no, that her cohort standing beside us, shaking tea out of one large tin into smaller tins had trained her. So I asked her boss if she had been to Nepal to learn the tea trade. She laughed and I sipped a second sample. I spent eight dollars on two ounces of Orange Blossom tea, sampling another cup as I went out the door. I’ll make a point to drink some tea before the new year or, its aroma is so nice I could use it for a potpourri. 

I’ve got a new wood shop project going on in the basement that requires rabbets and dados. I belong to the Kansas City Woodworkers Guild. They have a world class work shop with top of the line power tools.  I go there when I need powerful, precision equipment or someone over my shoulder, telling me either, “No, not like that,” or, “yes, you got it.” That’s my plan for tomorrow. My holiday greetings are stuffed in their envelopes and stamped, ready to go. I’ll probably wait another day or two before I send them on their way.