I've been in the Boston area since last night. I'm here on my annual bead show pilgrimage that involves staying with my college roommate, buying beads, and eating Etheopian food.
The bead buying was this morning, after a workout at a deserted gym (bereft of equipment, staff, and other customers), while my friend took a Pilates class at a private studio next door.
At the show it was a light buying day by comparison; two of the artists I regularly buy from were absent. That freed up more cash for silver findings. I did well in that department.
We've added to our tradition be eating lunch at the Red Lentil vegetarian restaurant around the corner from the show in Watertown. My body was 80% sweet potato by the end of the meal.
A craft-oriented do-it-yourselfer, my friend dragged me to a do-it-yourself frame shop, where I waited while she pieced together the necessary bits.
At the counter, a postcard under glass caught my eye.
"Additional Birds," it read (pardon the reflection of the overhead light).
"Birds added into old paintings accompanied by various other bird related illustrations."
I looked up, puzzled. "Well, that's a niche market," I said.
The clerk pointed me towards a painting in the back of the workshop.
Boston is trying for the weird title again.
We went on to the Taza chocolate factory so that we could load up again since our last visit in August. In walked a commuter cyclist wearing a helmet disguised as a sun hat. We got to talking, of course, and she told me I should visit the shop where she bought the hat-helmet.
So off we went, a few minutes down the road, to Bicycle Belle, for a little bike porn.
The place was aimed at women commuters. I tinkered with a few horns designed to make the most plugged-in jogger take notice. I decided not to buy anything. If the students I regularly slalom around ignore my regular old bell -- a recognizable sound -- what would they make of the strange skwawk coming from a $65 device? A student jumping straight up in the air would still be in my way, just taller.
I was ready to leave when I noticed something. "Y'know what I like about this place? There's not a fast bike in here."
We ended the evening at an Ethiopean restaurant with another friend from college (Jack's roommate), talking about everything from poop to nuts.
Tomorrow morning we're taking a glass blowing class. Although everything about my personality and skill set would suggest I should be good at this, I fear I will suck at it.
Whatever molten disaster I create, you can be sure it will appear on this blog tomorrow.
1 comment:
Love them bikes!! I am surprised you didn't buy one to ship home.
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