79! bar steep fall 29.62 5mph WSW dewpoint 35 Beltane, sunny
Waxing Gibbous Hare Moon
The final Weber tours. A Japanese language class from Kennedy HS in Bloomington and a small group of stunned ladies of a certain age. Neither tour was a flop, neither an engaging and vital time. The Kennedy group had a few kids that were present the whole way, interest. One young lady took out a notebook and started writing. The second seemed timid, afraid to respond to inquiry, interested but reticent.
At the end a woman told me she’d seen a Bhutan exhibit in Honolulu. “The objects came with five Buddhist monks. They came to bless the statues with water each morning. Since in Buhtan, they received this sprinkling directly, but were in cases like this,” she indicated the Nara Buddha at the beginning of the show, “they had, oh, I don’t know, a tupperware container,” she spread her hands out and formed a large sloppy rectangle, “It had water. Then they had a mirror. They got the objects reflection in the mirror and sprinkled that.”
Sayonara, Weber collection and bon voyage.
I have a long stretch of days with little planned. No docent classes, no tours, no preaching, no social engagements. The right time to garden and to write.
Jon called while I was writing this. They want to have the bris on June 2nd or 3rd. Could I come? I’m there. I’m excited to see Gabe and Ruth, to see Jon’s garden and Jen with her new brood.
On to the treadmill. I try not to remember this, but apparently in Victorian jails, prisoner powered treadmills were a form of human as donkey labor. I’m not sure but that may be where the term comes from in the first place.
