Today is Monday, August 26th.
I finally pulled myself out of bed at 9:30 after having my phone
whistle at me a couple of times, signaling texts from any number of
persons needing to clue me in on something. New things are
happening. Get up, get up. I have to tell you something....
I am on my second cup of coffee. I already ate three molasses
cookies left over from Saturdays opening for Debra Sportel. If I eat
another one any time soon, I will be sick! I knew when I was making
them, that I was going overboard by at least 1 extra recipe. I was
still baking when Deb arrived at 3:15,45 minutes before the opening
was to begin. She exclaimed how nice it smelled on her walk into the
house. I shot my sister a quick,"see?" look.
Aimé had been there with me as I kept pulling the dough out of the
fridge, rolling little balls, sugering, flicking with water, and
popping in the oven. Then I would disappear for 8 minutes to do some
chore in rather late prep for the shindig. I would hear the timer go
off and head back to the kitchen to pull out fresh, spicy round
wafers of pure goodness.
At one point Aimé, in her no nonsense tone of voice, suggested that
maybe I should shower and get ready. She indicated that maybe I
should be putting the dough away. I told her that Deb had read some
place that the scent of cinnamon actually induced men to spend
money, and strawberry for women. I wanted to see it this could be
true. I think I heard some grumblings from my sister, but I kept
quiet as I knew she had been under a lot of stress, same as myself.
I just kept baking, and running around.
I have made this particular cookie for most of my art shows. I just
like to make them. They remind me of my mother. I make them in her
kitchen. I think it calms me. Helps me focus. Although, maybe the
next time, I won't wait until the last moment.
Anyway, the opening was nice. It was different than the others.
There really are never any two the same. I was slightly concerned
that since I hadn't had a show since last December, that the turnout
might be questionable. But no, the house was always full of people
for over four hours. There was the constant sound of voices,
laughter, music all mixed up in one pleasant auditory stimuli.
Debra was radiantly beautiful! Her sense of style is perfectly
agreeable to me. You wouldn't have believed that she is actually a
grandmother, 7 times over. Nope. She looked marvelous!
Deb and I hung the show Friday afternoon. It took us a couple of
hours, but it turned out really appealing. Her "palette" she uses
in her art, earth tones, jewel colors, contrasted with the stark
black and white of her photos, create a perfect effect. I will enjoy
having this show hang for a few weeks!