It's not exactly that I object to this whole Attention Deficit Disorder issue so much. Not EXACTLY...

Folks, it's been one of those days. Already. One Of Those Days! Days when I find it's better to give in and stop struggling to keep my mind on a single item at once, and just follow the flow where it leads me, and hope I accomplish a few high-priority tasks along the way. 

A couple of days ago, after teaching my first Seniors beading class in several weeks, and before going to the office for the afternoon, I stopped off at home for lunch and a change of clothing. Warming some quite-tasty leftover roasted chicken to go with some fresh tomatoes, I decided mindless television was in order. Just for a while, as I let my mind unwind enough to shift direction. So I turned it on and found that The Barefoot Contessa was on. I've only seen Ina Garten's show a couple of other times and my most recent assocation with her name came when, two weeks ago at a casual dinner party, I ended up helping to prepare a salad in the kitchen of a friend at the same time one of her other friends, a chef, was helping to prepare another of the courses we were about to enjoy. Our conversation turned to "experience in the kitchen" and the enjoyment thereof, and he allowed as how there's a Barefoot Contessa cookbook that, for his money, is incredibly easy to follow. It seems to him that the book offers more than enough qualities to recommend it to even the most novice of cooks -  and even someone who didn't go to culinary school could very much benefit from having their own copy.

Back here during my lunch on Wednesday, sucked into this cooking show (an activity for which I've discovered a recent, growing fascination - cooking TV,) I had this memory return to my mind. Then found myself further enthralled by "the contessa's" guest. A guest to whom I believe she referred as "A world-renowned lighting specialist." I've never actually heard of one of those before, but when you're watching shows of this nature, it always seems like the most natural thing ever to have a World Renowned Lighting Specialist coming to dinner. And that he will transform the already magnificent garden of the hostess, into an ambient showcase. Because...well, why wouldn't he?

One of the tools in his transformation was a set of canvas lanterns he'd bought during his worldwide travels, which he hung from some large trees. They reminded me of some fairly substantial trees in the back yard of some friends of mine, and I remembered the connection once more when, this morning, I sat on the deck under those very trees drinking exceptional coffee from glorious pottery mugs that were made by people we know. One of the most simple - but treasured - joys of my life is knowing people who create truly impressive funcional art pieces, and that others in my circles share this appreciation.

So sharing our coffee and talking about one young potter in particular whom I'd actually forgotten about, I tried to accurately convey the mental image of the canvas lanterns hanging from those televised treees, as I'd imagined them in my friend's garden, and felt simultaneously wistful at the memory of the pottery classes that were once such a big part of my life. It was in that very pottery studio where I first met this friend, not long after she moved here from NY.

Later, after my friend had left, I sat and remembered the late phone conversation from one of my Seattle friends while I tried to keep my voice down in the guest bedroom where I slept last night. During that call the thunder was so loud around us that I wondered, once, if lightening hadn't just struck one of those trees above us. Or maybe even the house.

Seattle friend's husband has just been promoted to a sommelier position in one of the finest restaurants I've ever been to - a specialty he's been studying for quite some time. It's really enthralling to talk with him about wines and it was good news to hear of his good fortune. Our talk made me nostalgic for travel, and also for seeing so many of my friends who live in places not easily accessible to my home. It's been far too long since I've even left the state.

All these thoughts this morning accompanied other, dissimilar thoughts as I enjoyed the deck under those trees in which I continue to imagine exotic lanterns hanging, even in the morning light. Among such thoughts is the concern that I not forget to schedule a phone meeting with the web client who is leaving the country today and won't return until August. Not having my calendar with me while I drank my coffee, it occurred to me that it could be very easy to forget the need to schedule such a meeting (but my blog will now be the tool to helping me remember.)

Further wanderings of my mind led me:

  • ...to the curiosity over whether or not I yet have the skill - and of even greater critical necessity - the patience to knit a blanket like the one lying at the foot of my friend's bed, which I passed when I closed one of the doors to the deck before leaving.
  • And on to other thoughts triggered by the minimal similarity between her bedroom furniture and my own, to be curious as to whether or not I remembered to throw away the blueberry I found on my bedside table yesterday, no doubt courtesy of Mr. Pie.
  • Then, as I moved to leave, which jolted my thoughts ahead to the next few days, how I hope I know where to park downtown tomorrow morning when I go to the workshop I'll be attending.
  • Which leads to thoughts of the other July and August workshops for which I registered earlier this week. My curiosity, specifically, is over whether those two sessions will provide enough information that I'll become proficient in the computer program I need - and intend - to master.
  • Of course mastery of computer programs reminds me of work I need to be doing now and the realization that it may not be completed today, realistically, because other matters are pressing and apparently if I blink, it'll be July 16th and our show at the Marshall Gallery will be looming and I desperately need to believe that the sketches for the new designs will have, by then, materialized into truly magnificent pieces of artisan jewelry in plenty of time for me to breathe before the opening on August 2.

Now, even as I wonder about these and a number of other topics, I look again at my list of today's pressing tasks and realize that nowhere on it have I written the words "Get prescription filled for Adderall." Something to give some serious thought to...