Estoy Nueces

I came home at midnight tonight, enjoying the wet streets and the reflected stop lights. Got home and decided the Austin thing to do would be to sit and talk to the dogs on the patio for a while, drinking some wine from a Tupperware glass and enjoy the damp, cool night air. I'm loving this almost three inch rain!!! I was fully participating in the moment when I saw a movement at the edge of my shade garden. Yes, a mouse. He was on the edge of the stones outlining the garden, a good distance from me and then he disappeared under the shop where Mark creates beautiful knives. Okay, I thought to myself, am I going to be freaked out by seeing a mouse and go back in the house or accept this as part of nature and part of living in the woods (okay, we don't live in the woods, I'm just trying to calm myself)? I settle back a second, trying to relax and turn to my left and see a mouse scurry across the top of the fence. Ick. That was enough. Evening ruined. Gross out factor on high. Nightmares ahead no doubt. I'm inside flinching at every movement out of the corner of my eye. I love nature, I love animals, but mice must die. Or maybe I'll get a cat and anticipate the survival of the fittest.

I have been feeling the need more and more for a cat. Yes, even before the mice. I am not a cat person. I had cats all my life growing up on the farm but they were part of the scenery outside, not really pets, despite their domestic names: Blackie, Whitey, Little Grey Kitty, Strawbaby, Mama Kitty. Those are the only names I can remember, although I'm sure we used Blackie on several cats. I've only had one cat as an adult and that was a miserable experience. B.D. took great joy in waking up and waking me up way too early each day. B.D. would also hide on the fence under a heavy coating of grapevine during a pouring rain while I needed to get to an appointment. He spent the first couple of days of his life as my pet under the refrigerator and refused to come out for food or water. I knew that if he died under that refrigerator I had no choice but to move. But, for some reason, I keep thinking what it would be like to have a cat. I don't want to train one, I want one ready to go, ready to chill, ready to just sleep at the foot of the bed and be quiet most of the time. Is that selfish? I usually get pets not by seeking them out but by finding them and having no choice. If a cat comes along, I know I will take it because that is what the universe has in store for me.

The work week is over. It wasn't all that tough but I'm glad to see the weekend none-the-less. I had my LAST appointment with the shrink this week. I wouldn't recommend him to anyone. Not very compassionate or inquisitive. But I consider myself cured for now and we won't talk about my depression for a long long time.

Finished the sewing class this week and have a bright pink linen blouse to show for it. It is finished, although it needs a good ironing, but it seems awfully matronly and BIG to me. Okay, maybe I'm matronly and BIG and that is why it looks that way. Except that even on me it is big. I'll give it a go after it is ironed and I need to jump in on a new project too so this doesn't sour me to sewing.

Started my Artist's Way class Tuesday morning. The group is a delightful mix of freaky-deaky Austin women. I really look forward to getting to know them. I'm glad I don't have any preconceived ideas about them. I have assignments that I need to work on over the weekend. If I weren't what I am, what would I be? Or, what are those parallel lives we live in our minds? I think all of mind are very isolationist---in a cabin, on a farm, checking groceries in a town where I don't know a soul.

Last night (Thursday) I finally insisted that we get out to Jovita's to enjoy the Cornell Hurd band. I haven't seen the band since we've lived in Austin and that is a crime. They were top-notch, as they always are. I got my official Cornell Hurd whoopee cushion and got to meet the legendary Herb Steiner. Mark has played with him so we weren't blindsiding him with fandom. He played on Viva Terlingua and is something else.

I also got to meet Joe Ely again. I met him for the first time 22 years ago in Amarillo when I introduced him onstage at my first radio concert. He was my first stage introduction. And he may be my last stage introduction. It isn't something I've done much of, that's for sure. Joe was nicer now than he was 22 years ago. We discussed our hometown of Amarillo and he said he has more fond memories of Amarillo than he does of Lubbock (where EVERYONE thinks he is from). He is incredibly good looking now. Much better looking than he was at 20 something. But, then, at 19 I was a bleach blonde and wasn't at my best either (although I was quite thin and didn't know it at the time....sigh).

Full weekend ahead of me with no true obligations. My poor little grandmother spent a night at the hospital this week with chest pains so I shoud go visit her and show off my sewing. She would like that. I hope it rains all weekend.