Great Friday

The Wasp v. My Face incident would have made me laugh, had it not been so painful, a pain that lingered for several hours. And really, there was nothing funny to laugh at. But the laugh I would have laughed, had I not been in sphincter-contracting discomfort, would have been a cartoonish laugh, an ironic laugh—wait, a cartoonishly ironic laugh. A laugh that clearly conveyed just how unfunny things actually were. A bitter laugh of defeat. The Final Straw Guffaw.

I had just been through one of those weeks—on the heels of several immediately preceding weeks that had been just as bad, collectively proving, yet again, that April is the cruelest month. I had gone to bed the night before, so utterly spent from dealing with so many eruptions of every imaginable flavor, thinking to myself: Really, no, nothing else can happen this week. Please, lord I don’t believe in, you have given me as much as I can fucking handle.

I’m not even going to bother laundry-listing the most recent crises that popped up here at Whac-A-Mole Ranch. I’m just going to say that I’m exiting April about $20K lighter than when I entered it, which would be bad enough if I had that kind of dough to be doling out. But it’s worse than that. I’ve been robbing Peter to pay Paul and v.v. I have had to pull so many rabbits out of so many hats to keep the boat afloat that I have entirely lost count. I have had to activate Just Fucking Figure It Out Mode or, if you prefer your modes with an English accent: Needs Must Mode. No matter how you pronounce it—Old Jersey or New Jersey style—this is the mode of last resort when I have to “shake the money tree” very, very hard.

So the wasp sting, that was just like the rotten cherry on top of the Shit Sundae April had served up for me. Except—wait for it—you’re not going to believe it.

I salvaged the day.

Yes I did. I forged ahead. While Christians celebrated Good Friday, I managed to pull off a pretty Great Friday, secularly speaking.

Wasp Sting Day also happened to be my first day off in literally longer than I can remember, at least a month. I had, weeks before, put on my calendar a playdate in the Big Little City with my friend Sandy. Once every month, she—a talented ceramicist and jewelry maker from out yon Bastrop way—and I saddle up our horses and giddyup into town to see what the cool kids are buzzing on about.

Okay, not exactly. We get in my Tacoma and set out for some museum or interesting historic site. Sometimes we stop for a long lovely meal. Once we took a ceramics class. Last month we attended a very cool talk by a Mexican printmaker who spoke about his art at Flatbed Press. (That event was co-hosted by a UT Department, which one I cannot recall, but I can tell you when UT is involved, there are always very good snacks.)

Sandy had never been to Austin’s Central Public Library, which is truly a work of architectural genius, so we decided on that for our April adventure. I have trained myself that on these days, no matter what is going on in my personal world and the world at large, I will shut all that out. I will release myself into feeling the way I felt when I visited so many other cities for the first time: London, Paris, Tokyo, Buenos Aires, Tel Aviv, San Miguel, Cabo San Jose, Montreal, San Francisco. I will stay present and open myself to Beginner’s Mind and take it all in like a little child seeing things for the first time. (Considering how rarely I go out anymore, and how very much Austin has changed—and continues to change— this is not even close to a challenge. Often I actually am seeing something for the first time, because it wasn’t there a month ago.)

After a very relaxed lunch at True Food in the Seaholm District—where our delightful server took the cue of my beaming face and complimented my coloring (and agreed with me that the cartoon figures look like turds)—we wandered two blocks to the library. Upon entering and taking in the towering open staircases, I experienced, as I always do in this sacred space of free knowledge and a level playing field for all, the sense that I’d stepped into an Escher drawing.

Then, upon ascending three flights of those stairs—halfway up—and telling my friend to turn around and look, I felt nearly as much personal (and entirely unmerited) pride pointing out the massive grackle clocky sculpture to her as I did that time in the summer of ‘87 when I showed my then boyfriend, the Tennessean, the Atlantic off the South Jersey Shore—his first time to see an ocean.

[Photo of CAW from Public Art Archive]

Sandy and I went up to the library’s rooftop garden and beheld the city, still startling to my eyes as my place memory dwells so heavily in a landscape thirty years old and so much of it long, long gone. Back inside we took in the current art installation, works done in various mediums, created by library employees. Several pieces caught my eye but one in particular—Guarding Banned Books— held it. I was smitten and snapped a photo.

And then, Banksy forgive me, we certainly did exit through the gift shop. It really is true that I hardly buy anything anymore after buying way too much shit for way too long. Quitting Amazon helped exponentially. But the Austin Public Library shop is chock full of thoughtfully curated items, including a broad array of very affordable notebooks (my weakness) and some super fun stickers. I grabbed some of both, then added a few Austin Public Library branded guitar picks, already envisioning the mini care package I would send to my Texas-raised son and his Texas-born partner in Brooklyn. And okay, I got a super soft large sweatshirt because sweatshirts help me feel safer or comforted or something. Like big soft sweatshirts are the grilled cheese of clothing. That’s how I need to feel in these nightmare times—like I’m enrobed in a grilled cheese sandwich. (I’ve already worn it two days in a row and I am just getting started.)

I was delighted with the day, and with how, despite the brevity of this respite, I did manage to completely block out all of the bad in the world at large, all of my personal challenges, all of everything except what was right in front of me.

Back at the ranch I settled in for a weekly ritual I will detail in-depth in next week’s installment. For now, a nibble:

What I do most Friday nights is sit in my room with my dogs and listen to Rick McNulty’s KUTX show Left of the Dial from 7-10 pm. This is, I say with no exaggeration, a religious experience, my Church. While I was doing that this past Friday, just sitting back, glad I had made the most of my day off, glad for an adventure with my friend, glad the wasp sting had stopped hurting, I remembered the painting that so enthralled me.

While Rick spun the tunes. I did the google. I found the artist, Dale Bridges, whose name and face seemed a little familiar. I saw that the painting I so loved was marked SOLD. So I clicked on the contact info and I sent a note anyway, thanking Dale for his art, and for his attitude about creating art. I told him I was happy for him and sad for me that someone else beat me to acquiring that fine piece. Dale responded, reminding me how we’d crossed paths before and delivering some surprise news—in fact the painting was AVAILABLE. (I say was because it no longer is because it will soon be moving to the Tiny T Collection.)

Which was a truly splendid way to end the day, connecting with a local artist like that. Lifted my spirits even higher. I sure needed that Great Friday.

Y’all—I continue to do all the things I do to stay grounded and hopeful (or at least not fearful) and the list of what I do is long. Even when I use every tool in my Don’t Lose Your Shit Kit, it is still SO HARD. Gently reminding you (and me) all of the political craziness is pressing down on us, exacerbating whatever other shit we got going on. Please, please, try to find some time to take care of yourself. A single day. Half of a day. A worthwhile effort, I promise, something to help us stay steady and we really do need to try to stay steady.

What daily/weekly/monthly routines are you using to hold on?

JOY & BEAUTY DEPARTMENT

I baked croissants, pains au chocolat, and chocolate donut muffins for Pascal. Got some cool plants at Trader Joe’s. Lovely Garfield sunset. The cacti are blooming! Lisa got her head stuck in a fence and is under the weather as a result—the other goats are watching over her. That chicken that still thinks the trashcan is her nest. On Sunday I took a long, beautiful drive through the Hill Country to do a ranch wedding. It was just a few minutes from Arnosky Family Farm, which I LOVE and which I’d not been to in a very long time. I got myself some flowers. Y’all—go there! The have cut flowers and live starters and eggs and goat cheese. You pay on the honor system. It’s so cool.

THE LAWNMOWER REPORT

My friend G, who can fix just about anything, confirmed that yes, I had in fact totally killed my electric mower. And so, among other expenses, this month I had to get a new small mower to get to all the spots my monster mower can’t reach. This chicken thinks it’s her mother. I am pretty much over Lawnmower Drama.

NOTES:

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Speaking of the library, I am stoked to announce I am participating in the 2025 GABfest, a celebration of local authors. This happens on Saturday April 26th at the magnificent Austin Central Public Library. I’ll have print and e-copies of my novel, Grok This, Bitch. Please come on out and say hello.

MONDAYS through May I will be offering a FREE WRITING WORKSHOP at the San Marcos Public Library from 10 am til noon. Information Here. No need to register, you can just show up.

My FREE WRITING WORKSHOPS at Hampton Branch Library happen on the first and third Tuesdays of every month from 5:30-7:30 pm. These always fill up so please REGISTER.

Mondays in April I will be offering DONATION BASED Writing Workshops in South Austin from 1:30-3:30 This is an experiment. If it works, I’m going to keep these workshops going. Space is limited. You can REGISTER HERE.

Ranch Writing Day! The inaugural ranch writing day was this past Saturday and it was such a smashing success we are doing it again! Next one is May 3, 2025, from 10 am til 1 pm. It’s donation based. You can REGISTER FOR FREE HERE.