Who is that fondling that Divine tombstone?

Muscato is such a handsome man.  And brilliant as well. 

So, WHO up and shows up at our door at Cookie Manor yesterday?

Mr. Muscato!  Sort of like a visit by Mary Poppins, sans the umbrella and the carpet bag.

Well, he didn't show up uninvited.  Cookie invited him.  So it wasn't a surprise, but it was pure joy.

The reason was simple enough - its spring and in spring, well, you need to go out and see different people, places, and things. 

And what better place to see "things" than Baltimore?

As we welcomed him into the bosom of our house, Kevin was having none of it.  Yappy, yappy, yappy. But soon, he was giving our friend big love and snuggles.

And where does one take guests when they visit?

First stop was Divine's grave because one must pay tribute to Divine.  As you can see, it hasn't been decorated for springtime, and it looks a bit mondo trasho, but Muscato was enchanted and entranced and as in life when he was living, Divine was embalmed.

From there, we hit a twofer.  Lunch at Gertrude's at the Baltimore Museum of Art.  Followed by viewing of art at the BMA.

Lunch at Gertrude's was, and always is, DIVINE.  

However, Cookie kept getting attacked by an old woman in one of those walkers with handbrakes and a seat.  Evidently, this is a woman who either has a bladder issue or never had a Sister Mary Immaculata in her life. ("Cookie, Control. Your. Body. Or. It. WILL. Control. You!")  No sooner then I had a bit of my club sandwich then WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! as she tried to slink by me like a female cat in heat.  Had the dear old Dowager said "excuse me" as she snuck up on my back, I would have gladly stood, moved my chair.  No, she was a darling, yet passive aggressive Quaker woman intent on not bothering anyone by bothering anyone.

So what does one see at the BMA?  We went to see the "Cone Collection", which is really rather fascinating.  The two Cone sisters lived on the same apartment floor, in Baltimore, had a lot of money and were friends with Gertrude Stein.  Stein had a lot of artist hanging around her place in Europe, trying to make ends meet so she brought the Cones and the artists together and the Cones bought the paintings.

The paintings were then donated to the BMA when the sisters left this world.

Which, if you think about it, is rather remarkable for a museum like the size of the BMA to have a collection with such a direct provenance.  In this way, the BMA is like the Columbus Museum of Art with their Sirak Collection, but better focused.  And the Cones knew the immortals whose works they were collecting. 

The BMA also has one of Rodin's "Thinker" statues, and the last one I saw was the one at the Cleveland Museum of Art before it was blown up by an unhinged person 46 years ago.

We stayed as long as we could - but when I saw the Dowager with the equipment making a beeline for the Cone collection area, it was God's way of saying "time for today is up."

Thus, was our day.

In other news, I am struggling with allergies.  The shots are working as far as sneezing, wheezing, watery eyes and stuffy noses, but I can feel my body at work trying to respond to the allergens but being unable to come up with a response.  It's a bit like one's immune system sensing that something is afoot, but unable to figure out why it hasn't the energy to respond. 

"Why," asks my immune system, "aren't you sneezing and itchy?"  to which my body is saying "Dunno, but a nap sounds lovely."

On the books for tomorrow is an oral coronation ("Arise, Sir Molar!") and more work on this L.A. Project.  Ugh, because I would rather be in L.A. than be in Baltimore.

Anyway, Spring has arrived as I sit in my office typing this, I am serenaded by birdsong from outside.