Picto Diary - 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15 May 2017 - Antelope Chili

Above: Bishop at Snowbird Tram Summit. 11 May 2017.

Above: Guzzi and Stockli. Snowbird. 11 May 2017.

Above: Jazz Trio, including Bud's drum teacher, Jay Lawrence. Harris Fine Arts Center. Brigham Young University. 11 May 2017.

Pianist, whose name I've forgotten, and can't find in quick research, had completed his Master's Thesis by putting a dozen or so familiar tunes to modern jazz interpretation. Excellent concert.

Above: Bishop looks at "Y" Mountain. Outside Harris Fine Art Center, BYU. Provo, UT. 11 May 2017.

Old stomping grounds. Bishop. Provo High School. Class of '63. BYU. Class of '69.

Above: Bud and TIMDT... Timpanogas in the background. Harris Fine Arts Center, BYU. Provo, UT. 11 May 2017.

Post attending Mormon Jazz concert.

Above: Sand Hill Cranes. White Barn open space. Park City, UT. 12 May 2017.

There has been a mating pair in this area each Spring for the fifteen or so years we have been here.

Above: Bishop, 'Cake, TIMDT and Maui. Park City Park. 13 May 2017.

Out for a walk. Loved the blossoms. Lunch at Wasatch Brew Pub, upper Main Street, Park City.

Note: I'm doing these notes on 19 May. The blossoms have all turned brown as a result of the deep freezes over the last three evenings.

Above: Antelope Chili. F16 and Chemist home. Jeremy Ranch. 14 May 2017.

Annual event. Good food. Real people. Many high achieving "non elites." People who know how to do stuff. Entrepreneurs. People you want to be around when the mud hits the fan. People you can look up to. Humbled to be included amongst a bunch of cool doer/achievers.

Special experience also to consume game taken by the host.

Above: Bishop, TIMDT, and Tucson at F16's and Chemist's game party. Jeremy Ranch. 14 May 2017.

Above: Cookoo clock. My study. Park City, UT. 15 May 2017.

Clock finally in its rightful place after a year in a box in my garage store room.

I bought the clock sans TIMDT input while we were together in Passau, Germany almost a year ago. TIMDT was elsewhere with SpaGo when I bought the clock. We were on a hurried tour of Passau, which included a recital of the great cathedral organ there.

I knew if I asked TIMDT for permission she would say no. I was aware of the potential consequences of this. It could cost me some diamond jewelry valued at way more than the value of the clock itself. Notwithstanding, I went ahead.

When the box arrived at home, sent from Germany, I had to own up. When I told TIMDT that the box contained a Cookoo clock, TIMDT said, "well, what are you going to do with it? You can't put it up in this house."

So... the clock sat boxed in the garage for about six months.

I couldn't just leave the box in the garage. And, I didn't want to give the clock away. Cummon. The clock has the whole deal! A cookoo which sounds the cookoo sound on the hour and half hour, and moving pieces: little lederhosen clad men sawing logs, driving wagons and chopping wood, and a group of villagers marching around in a circle to the tune of, "I love to go a wandering...."

Knowing of my own limited capabilities to deal with complicated stuff, I asked Stockli to come over to the house to help me set the clock up and mount it in my utility closet in the bottom garage.

I asked TIMDT to come down and take a look at it. She said that if I was going to get a cookoo clock, why didn't I get one of the really good ones? Huh? This one wasn't that cheap.

About two months later, unsolicited, TIMDT said, "well, I guess you can put that clock in your office." We had some traveling ahead so, I wasn't able to get to moving the clock until today, about a year from the date from when it was purchased.

I realize that in a successful marriage you have to make compromises. You can't go out on a limb like I did in buying the clock too often. There is a price to pay. This time, the price was a good jewelry and antique haul on our recent far eastern trip. She deserves it.

The situation was not nearly as bad as when, seven years ago, on impulse I bought a Ducati Diavel motorcycle on her birthday while in Medford, OR. I called her on her birthday to wish her happy birthday. "I didn't get you anything this year," I said. I might have added something along the lines of, "well we've been together a long time and have gotten a lot of stuff for one another, its really my telephonic greeting and recognition of your birthday that really counts." She might have said, "um hum," in a way where I did not discern her true meaning.

A week or so later, when I arrived home, TIMDT saw the new motorcycle. My thinking was, what's the big deal? I traded in an old one to get this new one. I hadn't augmented my fleet. She's not interested in motorcycles anyway... its my hobby.

Well, I was a fool.

TIMDT conflated my purchase of the Diavel on her birthday with the fact that I didn't get her a present on her birthday. She played my faux pas for all it was worth. She didn't talk to me for a week. And, she humiliated me in front of our friends. Finally, only a pair of diamond ear rings was able to abate her wrath.

The other day I announced our 48th anniversary on a Facebook Post. I received a lot of very kind congratulatory notes, but the most apt note came from Fish:

"TIMDT should be sainted for lasting out 48 years with you."

"Better Half" doesn't begin to describe TIMDT.

Above: Mom. Portrait in our home of Eleanor Gayle DeWitt Taylor by Alvin Gittens, 1945.

Mothers Day. 14 May 2017.

Above: Bishop. Railroad Track. American Fork, UT. 15 May 2017.

Bishop channels characters in "Walking Dead." Here looking out for zombies or other baddie humans.

I took a walk while waiting for Bud at his Caleb Chapman band practice.

Addendum:

Nice diary. Happy to be in-the-loop while I am out of town.

Fenway, Boston, MA