Storms and Weather
Friday, November 6, 2009
It really is Friday. I am supposed to open the wine bar, Wild Vines, in about 13 hours. I have been working since 8 am and am tired. Each part of my body has a painful story to tell: cuts from measuring tapes, a headache from the storm system barrelling at the coast, a backache from opening a 12 foot sliding door yesterday, a wicked knot in my neck that I don't want to think about. I've been sitting in glass and sawdust. I've been stapling fabric and staining table legs and trim. I haven't eaten since 10:30 Thursday morning.
This is the Big One, what I've been looking forward to, and yet I'm sitting here surrounded by twinkle lights and aching and worrying and knowing that there is so much more to do. I don't feel ready. The space just became available on Sunday, so I've worked non-stop all week to try to make it presentable. It is the space next to Sweet Basil's Cafe, which is a good thing. On the other hand, everything that could possibly go wrong or awry has done so for several weeks. I can only liken it to climbing uphill backwards, against the wind, through the snow with your shoes on the wrong feet. And yet I press on.
This is Stormy Weather weekend, one of two huge arts fests for Cannon Beach. I haven't done a show at all. The Chamber of Commerce asked me to submit a photo for their silent auction tonight, which I did and which I appreciate. Winds have been gusting over 60 mph today with rain and lightning and thunder--completely appropriate. My internal storms are just as forceful right now.
Aside from all of the trauma of getting this business together, my mother is not well, and it is certainly upsetting my father. I can't get back there to help them. My friends are losing hours or jobs. I haven't had nearly enough work to keep going, either. My dreams offer little rest with their tsunamis and guns and injured dogs and revisiting past experiences and boyfriends. Maybe it's just an over-active mind or the aches and pains or the Benedryl to knock me out. Maybe I'll feel better in a few weeks.
Meanwhile, I need to get home and take a shower. I have to drive to Portland and back in the morning. If you are in CB this weekend (or beyond,) please stop in to say hello and have a glass of really great Pinot.
(Sorry--no photo tonight. I have dozens in my camera that I haven't downloaded. Sheesh.)
It really is Friday. I am supposed to open the wine bar, Wild Vines, in about 13 hours. I have been working since 8 am and am tired. Each part of my body has a painful story to tell: cuts from measuring tapes, a headache from the storm system barrelling at the coast, a backache from opening a 12 foot sliding door yesterday, a wicked knot in my neck that I don't want to think about. I've been sitting in glass and sawdust. I've been stapling fabric and staining table legs and trim. I haven't eaten since 10:30 Thursday morning.
This is the Big One, what I've been looking forward to, and yet I'm sitting here surrounded by twinkle lights and aching and worrying and knowing that there is so much more to do. I don't feel ready. The space just became available on Sunday, so I've worked non-stop all week to try to make it presentable. It is the space next to Sweet Basil's Cafe, which is a good thing. On the other hand, everything that could possibly go wrong or awry has done so for several weeks. I can only liken it to climbing uphill backwards, against the wind, through the snow with your shoes on the wrong feet. And yet I press on.
This is Stormy Weather weekend, one of two huge arts fests for Cannon Beach. I haven't done a show at all. The Chamber of Commerce asked me to submit a photo for their silent auction tonight, which I did and which I appreciate. Winds have been gusting over 60 mph today with rain and lightning and thunder--completely appropriate. My internal storms are just as forceful right now.
Aside from all of the trauma of getting this business together, my mother is not well, and it is certainly upsetting my father. I can't get back there to help them. My friends are losing hours or jobs. I haven't had nearly enough work to keep going, either. My dreams offer little rest with their tsunamis and guns and injured dogs and revisiting past experiences and boyfriends. Maybe it's just an over-active mind or the aches and pains or the Benedryl to knock me out. Maybe I'll feel better in a few weeks.
Meanwhile, I need to get home and take a shower. I have to drive to Portland and back in the morning. If you are in CB this weekend (or beyond,) please stop in to say hello and have a glass of really great Pinot.
(Sorry--no photo tonight. I have dozens in my camera that I haven't downloaded. Sheesh.)
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