Last night we went to the Kuntu Repertory Theater at the University of Pittsburgh. They were doing a play about Mahalia Jackson. It was well done–lots of gospel music, interesting structure to the play. Everything seemed to be rhythmic, even most of the informational bridges between the music. We were in the minority in this largely African-American audience. That was part of the experience also. Not that we aren’t more alike than different. But there were a few things I didn’t understand and would like to know more about. I took a class in Intercultural Communication and I’ve spent  much time traveling, exploring the cultures of Europe, Asia and Israel. It never occurred to me, until last night, that I ought to find out more about my African-American neighbors. After all, they understand how to be white, I should try to understand more of what it means to be black, besides the oppression.

This is my granddog wearing the sweater I made for her.

Most of the time I am perfectly happy with my life. I do not need more possessions, or more toys. I do not covet, and I do not need what my friends or neighbors have. I think this is a gift of my advanced age; it wasn’t true when I was younger. But even now, something will hit me. I saw this wall hanging a couple of weeks ago when I was taking Darcy to the groomer. I wanted it with a passion. Of course, I have no place to display it. My walls are filled with all the pictures I was never able to hang in my apartment in Jersey. And it’s much more money than I want to spend. So I went back and took a picture of it. Somehow that made me feel better about not owning it. I would like to create something like this. What a labor of love.

One of my neighbors came for a visit this afternoon and we talked about computers and finally, weblogs. After she asked me how I found the blogs I read, I started to think about it and realized I almost always got them from other blogs. Raja got me started on this whole thing. Kathryn gave her the blog as a Christmas gift. One day, as I was looking for Raja, I found Kathryn. Then her blog turned me on to Verbatim and maybe Coffee Waffle, or maybe Verbatim turned me on to it. I found Time Goes By in the AARP Bulletin. I also look at a lot of food blogs. Someday I’ll list them separately. So check out my blog list over on the right.

I have a paper due tomorrow in the Japanese Art class I am auditing. I don’t have to turn in this paper, obviously, but the professor said she would accept it from me, and I believe I will get more out of the class if I do all the work. So I have written about two-thirds of the paper and now I’m back to work avoidance. I’m listening to Brian Lehrer talk about the New York transit workers who just voted down their contract. I can’t concentrate on the paper while I listen. I’ve did some cleaning in my workroom, set up the new humidifier, which has been sitting here in the box for two weeks, knitted a couple more rows on the sweater I’m making for my granddog. I guess I’ll never grow up.

One of my constant worries, for all of the forty-some years I’ve been wearing contact lenses, is that a lens will go down the drain when I am cleaning it. So I am always super careful to close the drain, or in public washrooms where the basin has nothing but a big gaping hole, I put paper towels over the hole and run the water very slowly.

On Thursday I was getting ready to go to my Japanese Art class. I stood in front of the basin and didn’t think about the drain. I was just combing my hair; the contact lenses were in my eyes and I had my reading glasses on. (Combing your hair is actually closework.) The comb hit the stem of the glasses, which bumped my right eye, and I realized the lens had popped out. I removed the glasses to see what had happened. The lens was sitting on my lower lid. As I reached for it, it fell off, bounced and went right down the drain. I couldn’t believe it. I decided I had to remove the trap. I don’t like going around with only one lens. Getting a new one would take at least two days, probably four since it was Thursday, and cost about $150, including the panic shipping charge.

I got out my wrenches and couldn’t budge the trap. Sitting on the floor, which I hate, I was trying to decide whether to see if I could get a neighbor to help or just give up and I realized that the entire pipe leading from the basin to the wall was loose. I removed the part leading to the basin and dumped it into a large waste basket. No lens. Now I was really panicky. Could I have sent it past the trap when I turned the pipe? I finally got the other end loose and my lens appeared in the waste basket. What a relief. I left the mess, cleaned my hands and the lens very carefully in my second bathroom, which I thought I didn’t need, and went to class.

Friday morning I decided to try to deal with the problem. I quickly figured out why the trap is a separate pipe. Since I still couldn’t get the pipes separated there was nothing I could do. Steve said he’ll come tomorrow and try to fix it. Otherwise, I will need that plumber.

I was very lazy this morning and almost couldn’t get out of bed. It was gray out and didn’t look very promising. As I finally finished my tea over the computer Sari called and said it was nice out. I agreed to meet her in an hour, and I proceeded to shower and dress. The sun came out to greet me and I decided to take some pictures of my house. Here is the outside:

This is one view of my living room:

In addition to my alligator who sits on the front porch I have another house guardian who lives under the bushes in front of the house:

Sari and I took advantage of the sunshine and took her dogs for a walk in Frick Park. By the time we got back home at noon the sun was gone.

October 23, 2005

I hope. My new home is pretty well set up; all of my moving is finished, for a while. Now I am looking outward for new friends and new activities. Most of all, I want to be an artist again. In my past life in New Jersey I had neither time or space to be creative. Here in Pittsburgh I have both; now I need to get down to business.