was watching tv.
Even on great work days like the one I had today, when I get home I need to decompress. I flopped onto the couch and switched on the tv, looking through the guide for something relaxing. So Maury Povich was out. I scroll through and saw "The Joy Of..." squashed in a 30 minute grid on the PBS station. I quickly thought it would be "Sex" but realized it was PBS. And not pledge drive time.
Oooh! Maybe it was "Cooking" and Julia Child would teach me to make something old-school like a flaming pudding or something in a jelly mould. There was only one way to find out...
I switch it over and it was "Painting". With Bob Ross. Could I ask for anything calmer? For thirty minutes I watched him paint "happy little mountains" and "happy little trees" with a palate knife. His soothing voice made my tension float away. Fantastic.
I was still dopey with imagined paint fumes when the next show came on. Which was why I was giggling so hard as a sweet looking little old lady told the most insane story about an 1800s woman who made underwear out of a gunny sack (your guess is as good as mine) and sewed money into them. She had to go to the bathroom to take them off and get the money out when she was shopping at the feed store. Or something. I was laughing too hard to hear. It was a show about quilting if you couldn't tell from the photo.
Here is the sweet little old dear. She was so breathy and enthusiastic, I couldn't help but love her. For a while, anyway, until all her talk about stitching in ditches made me want to throw things. But it sure made for an interesting 2:01...