Today is Maria’s 52nd birthday and I gave some thought to how I might honor the day without overwhelming it or  making her uncomfortable – she doesn’t care for a lot of attention and she loathes expensive gifts. Truthfully, I don’t buy expensive gifts, but her idea of expensive and mine does differ.

I got some thoughts from her yesterday and added my own – I will always get her a gift, no matter what she says. I have a favorite shop in town there where they know Maria and have lots of eclectic and individual stuff. “Yes, I know,” says the buyer when I come in there, “she’s an artist!”

I got her a shawl (above) because she loves shawls and it’s cold in her studio, and can wrap it around herself when she is reading or working. I got her a red scarf with fringes to go with it. She bitched a bit about the gifts, but she loves it. I am good at picking books and clothes for her, especially since she never buys a thing for herself.

Then we took a beautiful walk in the sunny morning woods. I got home and wrote about the carriage horses she went to work on her new quilt. She might or might not accept an invitation to lunch at the Round House, but she has agreed to go see “Brooklyn” the movie and have some Indian food. We will have to travel a bit for that.

Life with an artist is wonderful but not simple. Like writers, I think they are all mostly crazy and unpredictable, you have to roll with it and enjoy it. I think it’s going to be a sweet birthday for her, although I have to report that as she went to work she told me, and this is an actual quote:

“you know, you buy me presents every year, I think it’s too much. I feel sometimes that I’m like Imelda Marcos.”

I have to say this brought me to silence, a rare condition for me. When I recovered and stopped laughing, I managed to point out that Imelda Marcos had 3,000 shoes when she fled the Phillipines in 1986 after a military coup. Most of her shoes have been destroyed by termites and neglect while in storage, but nearly 800 of her shoes remain in a museum there.

Imelda was a fearful and dictatorial monster, I said, not quite like the Pagan Witch of Bedlam Farm who ferrets gourmet pasta out to her chickens every day, communes with donkeys, talks to plants and trees and makes magical quilts and re-homes lonely rocks.

I pointed out that two shawls and a couple of scarves and two necklaces purchased over five years are not quite the same thing, but it is better sometimes to smile than to argue, but you can see what I have to contend with. Maria left muttering, but wearing the shawl. I have no many complaints, ow many people will love me every day? We are both a bit crazy.

Off to the movies.