Bloopers

I know we're not supposed to air our dirty laundry, but the truth is, this is my clean laundry. I hung up this colorful display in the evening just before it finally rained after sixty-seven days of fasting. Therefore, this Tibetan prayer flag of panties stayed up for another two days before it dried.

In another clothing-related blooper, I went to Tampa International Airport on Thursday to pick up Kathy. The timing was right for me to stop in at the inaugural exhibit at the new gallery space in the walkway between the terminal and the Marriott Hotel. It's Owen Pach and his "Fiery Passion, The Beauty of Elements." It was impressive. Make a point to check it out next time you're in the airport. http://www.OwenPachGlass.com

As I approached the exhibit, Victoria Wenner, Owen's sweetheart, called out, "Barbara Nicolazzo! I have a tee shirt with your name on it!" Ah! I had painted an iguana which was auctioned off, along with many others, to raise money for Lizard Live, a charity Victoria supports. Apparently the organization had listed the names of the donating artists on the back of the shirts. How kind!

Later, when I ran into Owen, he too said there was a shirt for me. "And it's got my name on it!" I exclaimed. He frowned and tipped his head and wasn't sure. It was hours later, I swear, before I realized that Victoria was simply using an idiom in English, my mother language, as in, "This dunce cap has your name on it, Barbara!"

Plus, I locked my keys in the car. That's not really so awful. I mean, the engine wasn't running and it wasn't raining. But it was the second time in as many weeks. It had taken forty-five minutes to jimmy the first time, but the locksmith – the same one, of course – is no fool. It only took fifteen minutes this time.

The thing is, I had made a copy of my key after the first incident. I just hadn't gotten around to taking it off my keyring and putting it somewhere where it would be useful in the extremely likely event that I'd do it again.

And then there was dinner last night, the first Sunday in November. It was a lazy day, the first day in a long time with no demands on me except a long nap with the kittens, and then a great dinner at seven o'clock cooked by Kathy and Richard – spinach pies and leek risotto, respectively – followed by pumpkin pie by Ruth! Yay! I was doing dishes when I glanced at the clock and saw I was going to be late if I didn't hustle. I threw the Meow Mix containers on the floor, letting the cats pine for opposable thumbs while I raced to get dressed. I flew over to the house and got there two minutes before seven.

Except that it was actually two minutes before six because, of course, we FALL BACK the first Sunday in November. Indeed, I had FALLEN BACK with my alarm clock, my car clock, and the microwave clock. I still can't figure out my stove's clock, but I try not to look at that appliance anyhow. My computer and cellphone are resourceful: they do it themselves. That only leaves the kitchen clock and that, of course, was where I looked. There's a Murphy's Law in here somewhere.