Well, this 3 day week-end was delightful--if nowhere near as productive as I would have liked. Had a blast Friday night at my friend Vuch's birthday party--and I'm reminded for the millionth time how much I adore Vuch and his wife Kiri, and really need to see more of them. Saturday I had my outing with folks at Uncle Fun's garage sale, and Sunday I did a fair bit of cleaning before David and Sonnett arrived. David hung out until Emma got there, and the three of us went out for pancakes at the diner near David's before we headed back, and sad pathetic old lady that I've become, crashed and crashed hard. (Emma, on the other hand, informs me that she stayed up until all hours, reading.)
Monday was the long-awaited Firefly marathon. Woo! We watched Shindig all the way to The Message and it took about 12 hours with breaks to shop, cook, and eat, as well as numerous breaks to talk about both Firefly and Em's new-found adoration of Barbara Gordon. Plus my phone was ringing off the hook at one point, as Poppy, Curt and I worked out NYC trip details.
Got a call from my father late last night just as Emma was heading out to find out that one of our dear friends, painter Frank Carmelitano, had passed away from a stroke in April. My Judy just called me, to tell me she'd talked to Frank's wife Rose. I'm going to have a mass said for his soul at St. Ita's and have them send her the mass card. We want to find a way to help them out--maybe buy one of Frank's paintings. Frank was a nifty keen guy. He was my painting teacher in Madrid over a decade ago, and even after the term ended, my Judy and I took private lessons from him the rest of the year we lived there, and they moved back to the States about the same time my folks moved to Florida. His studio was in this amazingly falling down building in a dodgy part of town near Grand Via, with dog shite and hypodermic needles all over the street, and the best damn coffee in the world at the bar on the corner. I just have such amazing memories of Frank and his wife was just sweetest lady imaginable. They were New Yorkers through and through, even tho they'd lived in Madrid for twenty years. I remember when I went home to Chicago that fall, Frank asked me if I could bring him back some pastrami. Just lovely lovely people, and I'm really going to miss Frank something awful.
I didn't manage to get the laundry done or the 20+ boxes of vids down to the basement, or the storage area re-organised, so that's on my to-do list for this coming week-end. Painters are coming in Wednesday night to paint living room walls, so tonight I have to clear all the stuff off my mantle, and get the living room pulled together. The whole job, plus cost of paint, comes to about $120. I need to start a fund to get the bedroom painted. I chose this shade of red called "burnt peanut" that I've fallen in love with--but my room is going to end up looking like a bordello. I'm so excited! Once I have it painted, I'm seriously contemplating putting a set of Christmas tree lights up in there, as I used to have that in my old room at the Loop and I miss it.
Also, my kitchen I cleaned Sunday morning? Now full of dinner and lunch dishes. I'm such a dork. So, gotta do those too tonight. And while I did manage to vacuum the living room carpet, the dining room is still a disaster area.