Thursday, March 29

Up at 7 a.m., so Hubbie could get ready to go to a Master Gardener training. While he was gone, I did stair stepping, resistance, and weights exercises. Once I was ready for the day, I went to Mother's house to accompany her to our house, where we worked to put several quarts of strawberries in the freezer.

Then I seasoned and browned pork chops, and put them in a baking dish with barbecue sauce. Later, Mother prepared a dish of Parmesan potatoes. Both dishes were to be put into the oven around 4 p.m.

Hubbie returned home around noon, and after a sandwich lunch, I went downtown to open the art gallery for the afternoon, at the request of the director, who needed to take care of family matters in another state.

To do this, I first needed to get the door key from the shoe store next door (the woman who owns the shoe store also owns the art gallery space). Unfortunately, I couldn't make the key work. So I returned to the shoe store and told the lady that I supposed I was key challenged, because it wouldn't work for me. "Oh!" she exclaimed, "I gave you the key to the shoe store, instead of the one to the gallery!"

At the gallery, I explored every wall and tried every light switch without result, until I found a switch tucked behind something on the wall near the computer.

Just as I got settled in, the phone rang. Where the heck was the function for answering it? "Hello, hello, hello?" I punched everything, and finally put the thing on speaker. Later, I determined that the function was under a strip of masking tape. I thought the tape was holding the phone together, or something.

There were only two calls during the three hours I was there, and both were arts council members. Good thing, because when I answered, I failed to identify the gallery, so they had to ask who I was.

One of the members dropped in later, and I apologized for my inadequate phone skills. "I hope I didn't confuse you," I said. "Oh, no, you didn't...much," she laughed.

The other member who called asked if there were special instructions for keeping the gallery open tomorrow. I told her I wasn't given any instructions, so I was just bumbling through this afternoon. She said she guessed she'd just wing it, too, then.

Only a few others, besides the member, dropped by. One was the former director of the arts council, who just wanted to visit. Another was the Film Festival director. Two ladies came in to browse the art collection. A politician running for state representative stopped by to leave literature and a flyer to be posted in the window, and ask if we would donate something to a silent auction for a fundraising event for the political party. Our organization is non-partisan, so I'm not sure we can post the flyer. And I doubt we'll donate anything to the auction. But I left the literature, along with a note, on the director's desk, anyway.

The man brought along his baby granddaughter in a stroller. She was very cute, and I enjoyed her, even if I don't agree with her grandfather's politics. I didn't voice my opinions, though...just nodded and smiled and told him I'd pass the literature along to the gallery director.

It was pretty quiet after he left, so I spent my time exploring my smart phone, reading the new tourism magazine for our area (there are several places I'd like to visit), reviewing the Film Festival movies I'll want to see during the next three days, and reading my John Grisham novel.

Out of boredom, I decided to snap a photo with my smart phone of the little marker on the back of one of the folding chairs that identifies me as the donor for purchasing the chair. I then uploaded the pic to my social network page.

Earlier, I posted snapshots I'd taken at the Red Hot Luncheon Monday. This was the first time I'd tried sending pics via my smartphone, so it was a good experience.
I'm always last to catch up with new technology.

Promptly at 4 p.m., I closed the gallery, returned the key, and came back home. Supper was already in the oven, so I boiled corn on the cob to add to the meal. It was a very good meal.

Later, around 6:30, the three of us went down to the college to attend a program by the Watoto Children's Choir, from Uganda, Africa. The choir was sponsored by one of the local churches, as a way of raising money for the Watoto holistic care program, which provides for physical, educational, and spiritual needs of orphaned babies and children, as well as abandoned or widowed women, vulnerable through HIV/AIDS and rebel oppression.

The choir, dressed in colorful native garb, was high-energy and absolutely infectious with their music and dance. There was a near capacity crowd in the 500-seat auditorium. Following the performance, buckets were passed around to collect donations. All the proceeds were given to the Watoto organization.

We were back home around 8:30, and I accompanied Mother to her house. Hubbie and I finished the evening watching TV.