Today was my last full day of SCHOOL. (to the tune of SCHOOL'S OUT FOR SUMMER!!) Summer is officially here when I get up tomorrow morning and salute my house for the last time and head off for a few hours of work, collect 4.5 paychecks, and run to the bank. After wards maybe go out to lunch or drinks with the crew for a bit. Then pick up Alanna and play grandma for a few weeks and learn about life, time, and play through the eyes of a four year old.
Today no one was home, so I enjoyed the quiet for a bit. I stripped the bed in the guest room, as Julie will be in town in a week or two and I hope I get the honor of hosting her for as long as she needs/wants. I cleaned up the mess from dinner last night, and headed out to the studio.
The phone rang. "Mom?". "Yes", I automatically answer. "Uh mom, uh...". For a moment I panic. It is a little voice, and I cannot ascertain whether it is Alanna, or one of my kids calling after something really bad happening. "uh Mom, dad said to call you and he said it was OK if I..." "You've got the wrong mom" I tell him/her.
Silence at the other end.
"I am a mom, but I am SURE that I am not YOUR mom kid".
I refrain from saying "my kids haven't seen OR spoken to their dad in forever. You got a dad in your life? Lucky you, cause there are lots of children growing up without dads". But I stop and tell the kid: "hope you reach your mom, have a great day" and I hang up.
Tonight's photo is of one of my studio mascots. She is an early American portrait painting, oh, jeez, 1700-1800's I would guess. Given to me by Julie as she has a horrible tear in the canvas, but she knew I would give her a place of honor. She and my other mid 1800's charcoal sketch sit sentinel on my walls looking out to the door of the studio. I figured if any one looked in and saw these two faces, they would freak out and run.
They may be long dead, but their spirit lives on in my studio, the haven for discarded and forgotten portraits and photographs of those who have long passed to the next realm.
Patti O Ghost