A post in which I go to see Russ and Billy

It was a pretty quiet Friday, which was nice. I had turned in all the monthly reports earlier in the week.

I’m picture shopping. I actually want several things for the house. I’ve decided to get some new pictures for the bedroom, and I still need one for the living room. I’ve been waiting for almost a year now to find something I like to go over the fireplace, and still haven’t found it. Maybe I’ll wait on that until I re-paint in there. But in the meantime, I’m looking at all kinds of stuff for the bedroom. I’ve looked up information on, and pictures by, Fernando Botero, George Grosz, and Tamara de Lempicka, as well as doing more research on some of the old masters like Caravaggio; and I have again looked through all the Maxfield Parrish prints. I’ve seen some originals on eBay too; I’m certainly not married to a print. I’ve actually been leaning towards a copy or reproduction – returning to my desire for things that have been touched by people and interacted with, rather than just cranked out of a press. It’s fairly frustrating. Nothing is really bowling me over. I haven’t fallen in love, as I did with the picture I bought for the living room last summer. The upside is that I have identified some pictures in the house that I can get rid of, which is usually very difficult for me. And don’t even get me started on bear pictures. You can find really cool and artistic representations of almost any animal (by, say for instance by Franz Marc – whose stuff I LOVE by the way) except a bear. I did see a couple of cool-leaning paintings on eBay that I liked, but they were too small to hang by themselves, and I couldn’t find two that I liked together.

A big part of this, I suppose, is that I want to go back in time and buy a little picture I saw at a gallery in Asheville while Michael and I were dating. I fell in love with it, but didn't get it because it was $300. I wish I had bought the damn thing, which is of course long gone. I can't find anything like it either. I this picture thing is just one of those things that can’t be rushed.

I was at loose ends for tonight. Jason doesn’t arrive until tomorrow, and I had done enough around the house last week before he came that there weren’t any really glaring things that had to be done to make things presentable. Fortunately Russ called and said they were making hot dogs – which meant that he wanted me to make chili to bring over. He loves my hot dog chili, and I have to say, it is pretty damn good. He also wanted me to copy the recipe out for him since it’s going to be in the Kindred cookbook anyway.

I ran by the grocery store after work to get chili fixings. They were frying chicken. That rich, deep and buttery aroma hung as thickly in the air as Spanish moss - it brushed across my face like fur. It smelled so good I could have gone in the fryer after it. Fortunately, I had a veggie meal already planned, so I wasn’t tempted beyond my endurance.

I made the chili and took it over, and we had supper, eventually. Due to Russ’s and my late appearance we didn’t eat until almost nine. But that was fine. We hung out and talked and visited, ate lots of hot dogs, watched telly, and just generally enjoyed each other’s company. Lovely.