Suckers, Anonymous

31 Down, No More Carnitas

2008-02-18T13:21:00.001-08:00

Pounds, that is. I just checked, which I don't do very often, so it was a real nice surprise.

And I'm eating! I don't worry about carbs so much, except for later in the day, because with the work I do all the carbs I eat at breakfast are used up and gone in a couple of hours, and then my stomach starts growling.

I make sure to get enough protein, because I'm interested in re-building the muscle I lost from sitting on my butt for 6 years, and physical work can wear the muscle down pretty quickly.

I met up with someone on V-day that I haven't seen in about 3 years. He used to squeeze my upper arm and say, "Carnitas!" The first time he did it, I was insulted. He said, "My dad used to do that to my mom," and I told him, "Well, I'm not your mom and you're not your dad." He still did it, anyway, once in a while, but on V-day he tried it, and said, "Carrrrr-- Hey! Your carnitas are gone!" I just smiled.

That was a really nice V-day present, and it was completely unintentional. The very best kind.

Today is "Boycott V- Day! Day"

2008-02-14T08:23:00.000-08:00

Like I do every year, I'm doing my personal boycott of Valentine's Day. I took the day off work so I don't have to be an unwilling participant in the mandatory candy- and card-giving bulloney.

I'm not against being in love or all the emotional stuff, I'm just against unrealistic expectations, which become more unrealistic every year.

People at work didn't understand when I explained why I was staying home for V-Day. They can't believe someone would boycott such a wonderful day. Then they shared their angst with me over the gifts they bought/might get.

Hello?!? They still couldn't see my point when I told them they were doing exactly what I was trying to explain. Thanks to all the commercials and ads telling men and women what their women and men REALLY want, so that's what they REALLY should get, and spend all that REALLY big money on, no one REALLY ever seems to be happy.

And after the day's over, or even before it's over, too many people just seem to be angry. So-and-so didn't get them the right gift. Or so-and-so didn't spend enough money on the gift. Or so-and-so didn't get them a gift at all. (Sounds just like Christmas, doesn't it?)

The Daughters and I went to the drugstore last night to buy a few things, and the parking lot was packed. We had to drive around and around until there was a spot, and inside the store it was bedlam, especially in the card aisle. People were agonizing over the right card and the paltry selection (because not one ready-made card said exactly the right thing, damn it!), worrying over being able to find an appropriate gift (at a drugstore? Come on!), and hoping what they bought would be enough and their Valentine-person wouldn't end up hating them.

See?

I have to admit to some smug superiority because I had removed myself from all that. I didn't even have to stand in line because no one was at the perfume counter, so we paid there. Couldn't believe no one was at the perfume counter. Valentine's Day? Perfume?

Last month when I requested February 14th off, I had no idea I might have a Valentine-person. Well, um, things have sort of changed, but it hasn't changed my boycott. He doesn't agree with me on it, but I don't care. And he doesn't care that I don't care. It's not a big enough issue. Maybe he's even secretly relieved. (Probably not, though. Like I said, it's not an issue.)

This morning I text-messaged my Valentine-person. Yes, I TM'd him-- it was 6 am and he was asleep. Besides, I figured he'd get a little kick out of turning on his phone and getting a Valentine's Day TM. Me bending my boycott and all.

He TM'd me back: Happy Valentine's Day :-x

Good feelings, acknowlegement for being special, and it didn't cost a thing. Perfect.

Subconjunctival Hemorrhage

2008-01-16T17:14:00.000-08:00

That's what I have.

Today is Wednesday. Last Thursday, at work, I got popped in the eye by a plastic strap that sprung apart from around a bundle of magazines. I didn't think anything of it except, "Ow." It felt like it hit my eyelid, not my eyeBALL.

Wrong! The outer half of my eyeball turned pink. Friday, it was still pink. (I did tell my supervisor what happened, on Thursday, after he asked me why I was wearing a ScoobyDoo bandaid on my arm. I told him I'd cut my arm on the corner of a hamper and it wouldn't stop bleeding, which is why he'd seen me heading for the bathroom with my bloody arm clutched in my other hand. He mentioned, "Your eye's all pink, too." So I told him about the plastic strap, and he said, "Not having a good day, are you?")

Saturday, it was redredred. Sunday, it was only pink, so I stopped worrying.

Monday, it was red again. It didn't hurt, only felt sort of dry, like wind was blowing on it. Supervisor told me that had happened to him once, half his eye had been red like mine, and he'd been given eye drops for it. I told him that Wednesday was a non-scheduled day, and I'd go to the doctor.

Tuesday (yesterday) it was red, still, and I had to assure people I didn't have pinkeye (conjunctivitis). I told them it was a hemorrhage from an eye injury, so they'd stop backing away from me like I had the plague. Little did I know!

So, today I spent a couple of hours trying to find the right place to go for Urgent Care (5 places!), and an hour-and-a-half actually being seen to. Not bad, huh? Only an hour-and-a-half! And everyone was terrific.

Turns out I was right.It WAS a hemorrhage. I didn't hurt the cornea, only bruised it, but I got some eye drops, anyway. I also got a tetanus shot. Not because I needed one, but because I couldn't remember the last time I got one. So now I have a big, honking bandaid on my arm, and it'll hurt like hell peeling it off. The shot didn't hurt a bit, but the bandaid removal sure will!

So that was my day off-- running around not having a much of a day off.

But I'm glad my eye's on the mend (it's only a dark pink today) and now I can step on a rusty nail somewhere and not have to worry about lockjaw. Pretty good, huh?

Oh, yeah. I had to have my blood pressure taken, and it's wayway down from what it was last spring when none of us where I used to work knew what was going to happen to us, and my BP was in the "stroke at any moment" range. Now it's back to "only nervous about having my BP taken" range, and I can give blood again. AND, when I'm driving to work in thick, thick fog (like I did the day before yesterday at 4am) or blinding rain (like a couple of weeks ago), I don't have to wonder if my stress level is about to kill me. I like that. I can just worry about normal rain- and fog-related things, like not being able to see anything, crazy drivers, and stray cows on the freeway. (Yes! It happened last week!) Life is good.

It's All In A Name

2008-01-11T13:59:00.000-08:00

Mine, specifically.

I'm off work today-- triple YAY! I was supposed to be off on Wednesday, too, which would have been the first one off since New Year's Day, but it got cancelled. (I had 4 days off from Thanksgiving to New Year's-- Thanksgiving, Dec. 11, Christmas, and New Year's Day. All 10- and 12-hour days. Yes, I work Sundays.) When Mr. Supervisor came to tell me the day before, after I'd been there 9 hours already, he said, "Okay, before I say what I have to say, let me tell you this first: I love you." Pause. "So can I see your bright and smiling face at 5:30 tomorrow morning?" And he RAN. My big, black, bodybuilder supervisor ran away from me like a scared little rabbit. When I confronted him about it the next day, he said, "Of course I ran. I know you."

Which brings me to this little quiz I came across while being glued to the computer since 8 this morning.

The first paragraph is complete bullsht, but the rest is uncannily accurate. And I DO get in trouble a lot. I don't know why, it must be a gift.

What Lori Means

You are relaxed, chill, and very likely to go with the flow.
You are light hearted and accepting. You don't get worked up easily.
Well adjusted and incredibly happy, many people wonder what your secret to life is.

You are well rounded, with a complete perspective on life.
You are solid and dependable. You are loyal, and people can count on you.
At times, you can be a bit too serious. You tend to put too much pressure on yourself.

You are wild, crazy, and a huge rebel. You're always up to something.
You have a ton of energy, and most people can't handle you. You're very intense.
You definitely are a handful, and you're likely to get in trouble. But your kind of trouble is a lot of fun.

You tend to be pretty tightly wound. It's easy to get you excited... which can be a good or bad thing.
You have a lot of enthusiasm, but it fades rather quickly. You don't stick with any one thing for very long.
You have the drive to accomplish a lot in a short amount of time. Your biggest problem is making sure you finish the projects you start.

What's Your Name's Hidden Meaning?

I've been described with lots of those words-- "rebel" "wild" "handful" "intense"(that one gets used a lot). And I've been told numerous times "they couldn't handle you." I always thought it meant it was because I can be such a btch.

The fourth paragraph is the truth-- absolutely. If anyone tries this quiz, let me know, either by comment or email. I'm pretty skeptical, and was ready for something stupid, but I'm sort of impressed with this one.

By the way, thanks Val for pointing me to the quiz.

I'm home early today

2008-01-04T15:47:00.000-08:00

because the power went out at work, and the emergency lights are only good for emergencies. So, most of us went home.

We're having a whoopee of a storm. I had to drive 65 miles INTO 40-50mph winds, with the rain coming AT me. Fun. Fortunately, the other people on the freeway were going just as slowly as I was.

The worst part were the big rigs. My little Toyota was going only a couple mph faster than they were, so I had to keep the windshield wipers going at their fastest because of the horrendous spray the rigs' tires were sending up and over. All I could do was hang onto the steering wheel, pray a lot, and hope the buffeting from the wind and the trucks wouldn't send me (or the trucks!) into the wrong lane.

The good thing about it was it was in the DAYTIME. What a luxury! This morning I drove in the dark, with the wind going like crazy (no rain, though), and my headlights picking out all the debris flying across the freeway. A couple of the tumbleweeds seemed almost as big as my car. It was surreal.

While I was in my car, having lunch and feeling the wind shake and bounce my little economy model while it was just sitting still, looking at and hearing the rain pound from all directions, a huge, pink balloon went bouncing up and down, up and down, between the front of my car and the parking lot fence, then bounced up and over the fence, and into the field on the other side, and bounce up and down, up and down, and away. I had to laugh. It looked like someone lost their bubble gum right in the middle of a good blow. I wondered where in the world such a huge balloon would come from, and then I remembered the car dealerships nearby, with their long, long ropes full of balloons. Guess someone's rope broke. Oops.

On my way out of my work-town, the traffic lights were all dark and blank-- power outage. But the other people driving all seemed to be feeling helpful and generous, and we treated the intersections like 4-way stops, and no one honked once. Nice.

It's supposed to keep raining for the next 2 days, and I have to go to work on both of them. But the wind's supposed to be a lot less, so that's something. Evidently, there are 3 storms, and this is the second one. The third one's supposed to kick in tonight or tomorrow morning sometime, but the rain is supposed to keep coming. I bet the people a couple of blocks away, next to the river, are sandbagging right now. They have to do it just about every year. The street in front of our house is flooded, but that's par for the course where we live. Oh, well.

Oh, yeah.

Happy New Year, by the way.

Obligatory Christmas Post

2007-12-25T12:23:00.001-08:00

Merry Solstice! (I never posted on Solstice-- I had that virus-thingy that keeps you either sleeping and shivering or running to the bathroom.)

Merry Christmas. And all that.

We're all fine, blah, blah. I'm just glad I'm home and not at work. But, back to the grind tomorrow. I'll have to appease LaWonda, though, because I was sick again, so went home early yesterday (I probably should have stayed home two days when I got sick, instead of only one day) and she had to go to Menopause Central because I couldn't, and she was NOT happy. I'll make her something to eat. That'll buy me some forgiveness. Having LaWonda displeased with you can make life pretty rough. She talks loud, too, so everyone in the building knows what she thinks. And it's a big building.

Ho. Ho. Ho.

It's been awhile, hasn't it?

2007-12-20T08:25:00.000-08:00

Today is the first day I've had off in EXACTLY 2 WEEKS. I've had to start working Sundays, too, so there went my one definite day off. Instead, I was being given a weekday off, and last week, I was supposed to get Thursday off, but it was cancelled. I was SOOOO not happy about that.

I've also been working 12-hour days, which makes my usual 10-hour days seem like a piece of cake. Figure in my commute time, and I'm gone 15 hours a day. I have to sleep, 5 1/2 or 6 hours, and I have to bathe when I get home before going to bed. I also have to get ready for work in the mornings (middle-of-the-nights to normal people), and I give myself 2 hours for that so I'll be awake enough to not fall asleep on the way to work.

So, I haven't been posting anything, just checking in on my favorite blogs when I get the time. And finding out the weather forecast for 1)my town, 2)a town in the middle of my commute, and 3)the town where I work, so I can be better prepared for rain or FOG. Rain is scary because all the rain-related driving statistics keep dancing through my head like sourplums while I'm driving, and the huge big rigs on the road only add to the water hitting my windshield. And I'm DRIVING IN THE DARK, people. Nighttime. There've been a couple of times when I've been driving and I swear I had an out-of-body experience-- it felt like I wasn't sitting in the seat of the car anymore, but had floated up and was looking DOWN at the road in front of me. I had to start singing really loud (no music on the radio, even!) so I could re-orient myself. And I wasn't hydroplaning, either. I'm real careful about not doing that.

Rain is bad, FOG is worse. There's no sound when it's foggy. Even the sound of the tires on the road is muffled. I can't hear any traffic approaching, so when some idiot car comes flying past my window (I guess my car and the 14 cars behind me are driving too slowly), it's a bit of a surprise. Once one of those cars passed me, and later I saw it very faintly at an angle on the side of the road, nose-first into the oleanders. Whoops. And a couple of times I've watched a car hugging the white line on the edge, only to see it's brake lights suddenly light up, because it followed that white line right onto an off-ramp. I'm guessing they didn't REALLY want to take those exits.

I've put my work number on speed-dial on my cell phone. That way I can call without looking at the phone keys and warn them I'll be late getting in.

My poor papier-mache Santas are still nude. I haven't had time or even the inclination to work on them.

BUT-- I'VE LOST 22 1/2 POUNDS! No wonder I have to keep pulling my pants up. And one of my supervisors has said a couple of times this past week that he thinks I'm losing weight. I just said, "Yeah, probably," but never thought to actually check on my scale until I got home from work last night. Surprise! I have noticed my face looking thinner when I've looked in the mirror, but I thought it was just me looking tired and drawn, and then felt sorry for myself (I have to do that, feel sorry for myself, because no one else will). Now I know it's actually 22 1/2 POUNDS gone. I haven't even been watching what I eat, except for avoiding salt (I'm like a sponge if I eat salt, I retain water like crazy, which makes my Carpal Tunnel worse). Otherwise, I EAT.

Oh, yeah. They're having another potluck at work today and I'm missing it. We are the eating-est workplace in the world, I think. We're always having potlucks, or else someone brings in something they've made and we all have some. I brought Hot and Sour soup a couple of weeks ago, left it on the table in the break room for maybe 15 minutes, and when I came back to get some to eat, it was gone. Only a couple of pieces of julienned shiitake were left, stuck to the sides of the pot. So I didn't even get to have any. And it was a 6-quart pot! Now everyone wants the recipe, even a couple of our Asian co-workers, which makes me laugh.

Okay, so that's my long post. Now I have to go out and do some Christmas shopping because I won't have another day off until Christmas day itself. I haven't done one speck of shopping yet, except for a gift card for someone who wanted one, and I happened to be in that particular store at the time.

Happy Birthday to ME!!!

2007-11-04T10:01:00.000-08:00

Money is a VERRRRY good gift! So send me lots and lots! Thanks!

Happy Halloween!

2007-10-31T22:00:00.000-07:00

My favorite holiday. I love this time of year the best-- the fall colors bursting out all over, the leaves blowing around and getting whipped up into the headlight beams of the car at night like colored, swirly snow. The COOLER TEMPERATURES. Candy is a nice plus. The deeper meanings behind what we now know as "Halloween"-- originally (and STILL) "Samhain," November 1st.

Here are our pumpkins-- mine's the little, conventional one on the left. Daughter #1 carved the one on the right-- the "brains" and eye-goo are coming out of the top of the head and eye. Daughter #2's is more gross-- hers has a bullet-hole in the middle of the forehead, with a little ooze. But the back of the head is cut out, as a result of the "bullet", and the ickies are splattered on the porch upright behind it. No, I did NOT raise my children to think of things like that-- they did it all on their own. I go for sweeter, kinder-type things. Oh, well.

Here are the pumpkins at night. We have little fake tea-light candles inside that "flicker like real flame!", but it's hard to tell anything's flickering in the photo. It looks pretty good when you're just looking at them, though.

Here's Daughter #1 in her Elf ears. She wears them during the year, as well. Usually the ears barely poke up through her hair, and it's fun to see people on the street or at the mall do double-takes. Sometimes they even sidle up to get a closer look, trying to be nonchalant about it, and sometimes they just turn around and follow her, then ask her where she got her ears. The fake ears match her skin tone pretty exactly, and are subtle. A couple of people have said they thought she'd had plastic surgery! But she's not being an elf tonight-- she's wearing a long, black dress with lacing up the bodice that she wears for various Faires, and is carrying a long, plastic scythe, so she's the Grim Reaper's Niece. Nice kid, huh?

And here's Daughter #2, dressed as a "Yamanba Girl." It's a Japanese thing. In Japan, some of the kids dress this way, sort of like the kids here in America who dress "Goth." It means "blackface," but not like the Al Jolsen blackface. The girls wear really dark foundation makeup, to look super-tanned. You'll have to ask the Daughter about it-- I've probably gotten something incorrect here. She spent all year getting the right kind of makeup-- I guess white eye shadow is a little hard to find. She got some long, fake eyelashes, but they wouldn't stay stuck on, probably because the makeup got in the way.

Oh, we just lerrrrv Halloween. Except I forgot to go out to the garage and get all the stuff I've made for it over the years. Oh, well, next Halloween, for sure.

It's Early, But...

2007-10-28T14:17:00.001-07:00

If the marketplace can do it, so can I. So here're some pics of a papier maché Santa I've been working on.

He's all gessoed up, and waiting to be painted. Except I need to fill in the big indent in his hoodie. It's what happened when the sheet of pulp I was using curled up while it was drying. I could have done it before gessoing, but didn't have any more pulp, and didn't feel like mixing up more. I can't decide whether he should be holding a bag of toys in his hanging-down hand, or a little Christmas tree. Probably I'll pick a tree- I bought a huge lot of little ones meant for landscaping miniature train sets, and want to try using one. Haven't decided, either, what he'll be holding in his hand on his bent arm. We'll see.

I love papier maché. You can do pretty much everything with it-- I get to sculpt, paint, and embellish all over the place. It's messy, but the girls have gotten used to something hanging in a doorway to dry. Or standing on the stove. Or sitting around waiting to be finished.

And it can be incredibly strong; you can make furniture with it. But I like it for characters and trees and caves, and little things to stick on other things. I have bagsful of papier maché shells and hearts and little snowman hats. I also have bagsful of torn paper strips, which I hide in a closet so the girls won't complain any more than they already tend to do.

I use pulp and strips. I like making my own pulp, but you have to get the proportions right or the dried product will be too lumpy. And boiling paper doesn't smell very good to other people, but to me it smells like creativity. And in the winter it helps the house get nice and warm.

The worst part, though, is sanding it down. It's boring, boring, boring, and takes longer when you have Carpal Tunnel (hell, EVERYTHING takes longer!), because I have to stop all the time to let my hands calm down. I didn't sand this guy, though, because I wanted the texture. So that was a step I got to skip.

Now on to finishing it.

Worked 54.64 Hours This Week

2007-10-05T18:02:00.000-07:00

My supervisor and manager wanted me to work 10 hours AGAIN today, but I fooled 'em. I think. I only worked 9!

We were standing there, figuring out my clock-out time, and I kept counting on my fingers, saying, "6:30, 7:30, 8:30..." on up to 4:00, which kept coming up as 10 hours. But, see, I REALLY started working at 6:30, so I should have been starting my counting with "7:30". Except I couldn't bear the thought of working 10 today, when I have to work 10 again tomorrow.

Finally, my supervisor, who had been trying to figure my hours in his head, but kept being interrupted by me starting to count on my fingers again, said, "Okay, just go on home! Get in your car and drive!" So I skedaddled.

I'm sure they figured it out right after I left, but I was all clocked-out and gone. I was The Wind.

Oh. Cool thing-- one of the girls I worked with here in town before our workplace was shut down and we all were transferred hither and yon came and worked in my NEW place yesterday and Wednesday! It was so nice to see her and catch up on what she's been up to. And she's been in contact with people I haven't seen, and vice versa.

It was a little funny, though. She does the same type of work I do, has the same position in the town to where she was transferred, but not nearly the amount. She works her "The Store" mostly, with only a little of the physical-labor part of the job, because her place is tiny, and mine's sort of huge. So yesterday, when we were unloading and unloading and unloading some more, fast (because we have to-- people are waiting and can't do their jobs until we do ours), I called over to her, "Are you sweating yet?"

Because I'd been teasing her about never needing to sweat at her place.

She laughed and said, "Yeah, look and see!" Her poor little face was all flushed and beaded with sweat, and she had a little drop running down her cheek. She said, "I can't believe you do this every day, all day long!"

See? And tomorrow I get to do it for 10 hours. Again.

Happy Birthday, Daughter #2 !!!

2007-10-03T17:29:00.000-07:00

Here's Daughters 2, in front, and 1, behind her. Beautiful, no?

Happy October 1st!

2007-10-01T19:58:00.000-07:00

As Daughter #1 always says. Well, she changes it to fit whatever new month it is. Here's my October calendar page:

Have you ever been so tired you were hyped, and you knew you reallllly should go to bed, but your brain wouldn't let you? That's how it is for me now. Plus, I just found out I'm published! Woohoo! Not mucho dinero, but a leetle bit. I could go to McDonald's and get TWO Dollar-Meal cheeseburgers and a shake! Except I won't-- I never eat there. But I could if I wanted to.

Had to work 10 hours today. We're down 4 people-- HECTOR still has his broken arm, LAWANDA is on vacation (go, girl! But hurry and come back-- I don't like these long hours!), and Gerwinder and Tinalouise had today off. So, the 10 hours. DOUG had to work 10, too, and we both had a split shift, with 2 hours in between, but he only lives 20 minutes away from work, so he went home and took a nap. I went to Petsmart and bought a 40-lb bag of dog food, then to the drugstore to get Stuff, and a Birthday card for Daughter #2.

I left at 4 this morning, got home at 6:30. You do the math.

Okay, my brain's ready for some sleep.

P.S. Can you tell Halloween is a Big Deal at our house? Our favorite holiday, especially mine! Not for the candy, but for the ATMOSPHERE. Love it.

Ow, My Hands Hurt

2007-09-23T12:58:00.001-07:00

And my shoulders. And my right ankle. But not my back, thank god!

But my poor, poor little hands. They're puffy and icky, all from what I had to do at work yesterday. I don't have the most gorgeous hands in the world (my daughters call them "wolf hands!"-- how loving is that?), but I really miss seeing the bones in my fingers.

Here's me after a long work day. Notice the messy hair?

This is the hair I have to wear to greet the public when I get sent to The Store. I can just hear the customers thinking, "Eeyuuw, what happened to her?"

Also, this is a picture of me AWAKE after work. A rare event. I discovered, when I was looking through saved pics on our digital camera, many photos of me having fallen asleep. The Daughters took them. Those pictures are now taboo.

Back to my hands. Guess I won't be working on my knitting today. And I think I'll buy a nice salad for dinner-- I don't dare use any knives to cut my veggies up! I was planning on a stir-fry, but bought salad sounds just fine.

I worked 49.25 hours this week

2007-09-21T15:01:00.000-07:00

and I'm feelin' it. Our maximum allowed hours per day are 10, which I worked. Our maximum allowed hours per week are 56, which I haven't worked yet, but am told it WILL happen. Oh, yay.

These are highly PHYSICAL, SWEATY hours, folks. None of that namby-pamby, ouch-I-broke-a-fingernail type of stuff. Nope. If you don't need to grunt a little while working, you're not working hard enough. (Ooo, just sounded a little indecent, didn't it?) No sitting down in THIS workplace. No, sir, it's standing, walking, sliding, twisting, heaving...

That reminds me. We had to watch an "ergonomics" safety video on Wednesday. (OK, we sat for that-- about 45 minutes, and boy were we stiff when we had to stand up again! We'd been hauling bunns for about 5 hours, and the sudden cessation of movement froze our muscles up. You know, it could even have been longer than 45 minutes, I can't be sure. My attention span left after about 7 of them. Minutes, I mean.)

Anyway, this video showed all the things we're NOT supposed to do, and after about 5 of those things, I realized THOSE THINGS CONSTITUTE OUR JOBS. We can't NOT lift and twist, we can't NOT stand for long periods of time, we can't NOT reach and lift from over our heads, and if that lady thought anyone would drop what they were doing to come help someone else, she was out of her mind. And if any of us were to sit for a while when we got tired, oh, puh-leeze!

Sure, we've got a few lazy-ss slackers. But I won't tell you what's said about them. Ok, maybe I will, but in another post.

So, I spent 10 hours doing all the things we're not supposed to do, in ONE DAY, and then 9.37 hours another day, and 8.37 another day. All the way to 49.25 hours.

Next week is another 6-day week, and the week after, and the week after, blah blah blah, until HECTOR WITH THE BROKEN ARM gets back. My brain hurts to think about it, so I'm gonna stop here, and go read for a while.

Another Post

2007-09-17T18:49:00.000-07:00

I'm tired. Worked 10 hours today. Think it's going to stay like this for a few weeks because HECTOR went and played basketball with a bunch of 14-year-olds and fell and BROKE HIS ARM. Which means more work for the rest of us. I'll forgive him later. Right now I'm still feeling some resentment going on. And DOUG called in sick today. Someone said he was "mad at management", but I don't know. I just know I got STUCK doing ALL the heavy stuff, which is hard because I'm not quite 5'4" and some of the heavy stuff is taller than me, and I HAVE TO LIFT IT EVEN HIGHER! And it took TWO HOURS. And I started this workout at 6 AM!!! (Don't EVEN ever offer to arm-wrestle me! I'll win.)

Then, I had to go do window-work, which means I was off in another room, in another part of the building, SO I DIDN'T GET ANY BREAKS OR LUNCH BECAUSE THEY FORGOT ABOUT ME. I had to do the window-work because another person called to say she wasn't coming in. This is a person I definitely know is "mad at management." I finally went and made some pretty loud, nasty noises, at 7 1/2 hours, and got a lunch. Then I had to go back to the lifting and bending. Talk about sweaty. Ugh.

And got stuck working 10 hours. I don't care one little bit about "ooh, overtime". I'd rather be at home, thank you.

Sure hope tomorrow is better-- it'll be Tuesday, which is usually a lighter-work day, but I saw some of the stuff I'll be working on first thing in the morning. All heavy stuff, and twice as much as a normal Tuesday. So it probably will feel like another Monday, instead. Okay. It's only 7, but I need to go to bed. G'night.

Menopause Central

2007-09-09T16:44:00.000-07:00

That's my name for "The Store," the retail branch of my workplace. The work I do is easy enough, usually, and the customers are almost always friendly, except for the mad-at-life few. I don't go to The Store everyday, but I go often enough. Far more than I was originally told, of course.

The only good thing about having to work there is that my hands get a rest from all the squeezing and pulling and lifting, so my CTS stays pretty calm and doesn't wake me up at night.

I almost always get sent to The Store after a few hours of my normal job, so by the time I have to leave, I'm sweaty and my clothes are wet, and my hair is wild-looking and ucky. I have to go into the wheelchair-stall in the bathroom, and clean myself up with a kitchen towel impregnated with baby bath soap, and change into the uniform-clothes I always have to have available. I hate doing this! It's horribly awkward, and I have to do it as quickly as possible, so I can get to The Store as quickly as possible. Which means I take my time, because I am sooo not going out of my way to please the ss-holes that be. I just don't care.

There are 5 women and a man who are permanently attached to The Store. I don't fit in, not even a little bit. These 5 women are in the middle of menopause, and the man may as well be. Which is why I call this place "Menopause Central." Everyone there is a biddy. They're not old; I think the oldest is only in her mid-fifties, but even the man (who is nicknamed "Papa" because he's a grandfather now)is a biddy. He talks like a biddy and he walks like a shuffling old biddy.

Every one of them (including Papa) has something going on, and the estrogen in that place can send you through the ceiling-- no one is doing their menopause naturally. I have to listen to and watch them have hot flashes, talk about their thinning hair and their "zero thyroid." They're scaring the scheist out of me, because I haven't hit menopause yet, and don't want to be like them when I do! They all have more than one personality, too, it seems. One minute they're mellow and laid-back, and the next minute at least one of them is shrieking about something. Usually about something I've done "wrong." Translated-- not the way THEY do things. Forget it's still correct, it's not THEIR way. I'm getting really good at ignoring the corrections. They never correct me alone, in back, where no one can see. NOOO, they do it in front of the customers, while I'm in the middle of a transaction. They bring my mistake out from the back, lay it on the counter between me and the customer, and tell me all about what I did. I just smile, say thank-you-I'll-remember-that-don't-tell-me-again (yes! I say that!)and go on with my customer. I'm not exaggerating when I say that there is NEVER one day, not ONE, when I don't do something "wrong." Does it embarrass or annoy me? No. I don't care enough.

They don't talk to me much, and that's just fine with me. I have nothing to talk to them about. Well, that's not strictly true-- one of the ladies does animal rescue, so I can talk about that. But she hasn't been there for 2 weeks. Otherwise, I just do my time.

I was supposed to go there yesterday. I started at the Annex (where my very physical job is)at 6, and was supposed to go to The Store at 10:30. But I didn't remind the acting supervisor, and no one from Menopause Central called to ask where I was, so I stayed at the Annex, where I DO fit in, even if it kills my hands and arms. I just hope the acting supervisor doesn't get in trouble for it this week when the manager will be there, because he (the acting supervisor) is a very nice person who tries too hard, and he deserves good things.

Do I worry if I'LL get in trouble? I mean, I knew I was supposed to go over there, and didn't say anything. Nope. I don't worry. I'll just say I forgot all about it, like everyone else says. Because, once again, I don't care.

I'm thinking of doing some sort of an art piece and calling it "Menopause Central." Something with women and a man all intertwined, and their mouths wide open in a collective shriek, arms and legs all over the place. Kind of like Twister with biddies.

Happy September 1st!

2007-09-01T17:57:00.000-07:00

I said I'd show what little bit of creative-ness I've been up to, so here it is:

This is the front of the most recent yearly calendar I made. Can you tell I made it around last Christmas? The cover is a squashed gift box, and I didn't want to trash the whole thing, so I made my calendar with it.

Here's this month:
Too bad you can't see all the sparklies-- I used a lot of gel pens in this. Maybe next month, but I doubt it. Sparkly just doesn't scan well.

This is a blank month, so far. Some of the info I'll be putting in isn't meant for public consumption.

Yippee! I get TWO DAYS OFF IN A ROW! Not just two days in the same week, but in a row!!! Don't know what I'll do with myself, but I'll think of something, that's for sure. As long as I don't have to drive too much. I'm pretty sick of driving, at the moment.

Not Enough Time!

2007-08-26T14:16:00.000-07:00

I'm feeling a little panic starting up. Just looked at the clock and saw what time it is, and how little of the day I have left. Because of my working hours, and having to wake up at 2:30 or 3:00 every morning, I still wake up early on my days off (which I don't get enough of, of course). Getting up early (I don't know about you, but I think before 6 on a Sunday is early, and this morning I slept 'til past 8!) is no big deal anymore, and I'd do it anyway, because it gives me more day. I only get one or two days off during the week.

But I hate when the day flies by, and I look at the clock, and more than half of my day off is gone. Forget whether I've accomplished anything or not, I want my day off to be longer. Like, 3 days longer. Or even 3 months. Or years. As long as I don't have to go back to my job!

I've gotten past the Honeymoon Phase of my new workplace. The people I work with haven't changed, they're mostly still the same people I liked right away. But my duties have expanded exponentially, it seems, and the more I learn to do, the more I get passed around from place to place, a few miles away from each other. I feel like I'm being whored out. I hate it.

My manager is still the same person, and I still don't trust her. She seems all nice and friendly up front, but I knew from first meeting her that it's a cover. She's made of iron. Or steel. Or titanium. The *sshole supervisor is still the same-- he's sexist as hell and thinks he's funny. I've had more than a few words with him about it. I even told him that unless he's respectful to me, I'll ignore him. So that's what I do. It seems to help somewhat. He hasn't called me "Woman!" in a couple of weeks, or cracked any stupid chauvinistic lines concerning my hair or liking to go shopping (he overheard me saying to someone that I don't like to go shopping, and butted in with, "Oh, come on. You're a woman. Everyone knows women love to shop. You're just saying that to impress me."). I've decided he must have terrible self-esteem, and probably got beat up a lot when he was a kid. I asked him once if he considered himself a misogynist, and he just looked at me, trying to figure me out, and I said, "Never mind. I didn't expect you to know what that term meant," then walked away. He's going through a wicked divorce. Poor thing.

My Carpal Tunnel Syndrome is unbelievable, and I've started going to bed even earlier than I was, just so I can make up for all the sleep I lose during the night because of the pain and burning and cramping waking me up. I have to get up and walk around for 20 minutes or more, waiting for it to calm down, before being able to go back to sleep. 3 times a night is the usual. Aspirin before retiring is a must. Plus splints and B-6 (75-100 mgs/day) and water pills, too. Forget doing creative stuff-- my hands numb up and cramp just from holding a book or the phone. I tried knitting, and had to stop after one row. I want to bead, but can't feel the beads! The most I've been able to do is work in my little Calendar Book. I'll put up a picture when September starts.

I've found out something horrible and I feel fcked by it: Evidently, and I've called people from all over about it, someone pulled all of us that were forced to take jobs we didn't want in towns where we don't live, off the Priority list, and made us permanent. My boss checked, my boss's boss checked, and my boss's boss's boss checked. I also called HR where I used to work, and Sacramento. Yep. I just keep praying and believing that all those people are wrong, and I'll get something closer to home. Because the truth will make me cry. I'm already madder than I can say.

I heard the Glowworm is hiring for a bartender. I don't drink or know the first thing about mixing liquors, but I'm willing to learn.

Other People's Money (or, OPM)

2007-08-01T20:21:00.000-07:00

Okay. I'm tired. I spent all of last week at "Window Academy," in a town closer to home than the one my job's in, but still not in MY town. I spent 8 hours a day, for 5 days, 40 hours total, learning all the rules and regulations of how to handle job-specific operations, namely the retail end. I memorized the numbers of about a thousand different forms (3849, anyone? How about a nice 6401? Or an 8105-b? Which I would be forced, by conscience and law, to fill out if YOU were to refuse to fill out an 8105-a. Fun stuff.) I learned their usages. I learned how much they cost. I learned more about weights and measures than I ever, ever, ever want to know again. I learned which forms were available with which weights and which measures, and I learned how those very same weights and measures can change their spots and possibly mean something else, thereby causing the aforementioned forms to change THEIR spots. They mutate, or something. Morph.

I learned all this to get me ready for 40 hours of on-the-job instruction (OJI), which is what I'm doing THIS week.

Guess what? Almost none of what I learned is of any use to me. Only the most basic forms are ever used, and I could work 20 years doing the retail end and never fill out an 8105-b. We had a couple of LIARS come in today. They left before we found out they were LIARS. I asked why we weren't filling out an 8501-b, and my instructor looked at me like she didn't know what I was talking about. She's been doing the retail stuff for 20 years, and has never filled one out. She knew what the form was, but I guess it's a joke-form, or something, because no one ever fills one out. Ever.

And I have to say, I hate this part of my job. I also have to say that, after I spend this week becoming more and more convinced that I'm an unteachable idiot, I probably won't be working this retail stuff more than a couple of hours a week, at most. So, I'll promptly forget pretty much everything I've learned.

You know what the worst part is? I have to be responsible for Other People's Money. My poor, unsuspecting customers come to me and, usually willingly, hand over their money and expect me to do the right thing. HAH! They SO don't know me!

Not only do I have to be responsible for the customer's money, but I've been working out of my instructor's till, her cash drawer, and if I screw up, it shows up on her read-out at the end of the day. On Monday, my first day of OJI, the read-out (which is form 1412, by the way) showed that I lost her 90 cents. I felt so bad all the way home that I had some trouble falling asleep that night. It would be different if it had been MY 90 cents, but it wasn't, it was HERS. HER money.

Other People's Money is the part about doing retail work that I just do not like. I enjoy working with the customers, joking around with them, helping them out, but I don't like having to deal with their money.

Thankfully, I'll be going back to the grunt-work of lifting, pushing, hauling, and sweating next week. Probably as soon as Saturday. Just leave me there. I don't have to deal with dollars and credit cards and forms and weights. I just have to move stuff around. If someone does something suspicious, I don't have to fill out a stupid 8105-b; I'll just tattle on 'em. That won't happen, though, because at my usual workplace, there's nothing suspicious to do. Not much money is involved in pulling things off of trucks. I don't think.

Happy Birthday Daughter #1!!!

2007-07-25T17:55:00.000-07:00

Procrastinating some more

2007-07-20T10:36:00.000-07:00

Today is my day off, and instead of doing what NEEDS to be done, I'm sitting here, funking around on the computer.

I had a scary experience last Saturday. Not horrifying, just slightly troubling. And only slightly because I immediately started EFTing it, and was really glad EFT can be done with one hand, because I was on the freeway travelling at a rather high velocity (75mph). Yeah, the speed limit's 65, but NO ONE goes that slowly, and since I don't want to cause an accident, I stay with the traffic flow.

My "maint reqd" light came on, one of those dashboard "trouble lights" that usually causes an instantaneous stomach lurch and rapid breathing and a high-pitched buzz in my head. But, see, I've been wondering for a few weeks when I'd get to the mileage I'm supposed to get to before needing an oil change, so I told myself, "Okay, this most likely just means, in this new car with all these new-fangled thingies in it, that I only need REQUIRED maintenance, like an oil change, not "IMMEDIATE DAMAGE REPAIR, RIGHT THIS MINUTE OR THIS CAR WILL START DROPPING PARTS AND GO SKIDDING OFF THE ROAD INTO THAT RIVER RIGHT THERE ON MY RIGHT" kind of maintenance. And, just to be sure that I believed myself, I EFT'd.

Before this car, I drove cars whose trouble lights really did mean something expensive to fix was occurring, at that very moment. But this is a modern car. Interactive. Since I'm not a very modern woman, though, and since I don't keep up to date on new modern conveniences in new modern cars, I had to lie to myself and tell myself that "I am a modern woman, and this is a modern car, so this awful, scary light must mean something modern is going on."

When I got to work, I was much calmer than I used to be before I started EFTing everything, and I actually forgot about that damned light for hours at a time, instead of seconds. I even remembered to ask a coworker (who loves taking care of cars) about it, and he said, "You have a Toyota. Like mine. It means you need to change your oil." Then he told me about all the other stuff I could have done at the same time, but I didn't care about all that, really, I just was happy about getting my oil changed.

So, I called the car dealership and asked for an appointment to have my required maintenance done since the "maint reqd" light had come on, and the nice lady there told me, "Oh, you just need an oil change, you don't need an appointment. You don't even need to come here to do it, if you don't want. Just remember to tell whoever changes your oil to hit the reset button so the light will go off." Lovely woman, simply wonderful!

So here I am, procrastinating instead of getting my oil changed. Maybe I'll do it Sunday, instead. Yeah, Sunday! Okay, I'll do it Sunday.

P.S. I think they should put those helpful dashboard lights in a different place, over to the right somewhere, instead of right in front of you where you can see them glowing all redly and happily, and making themselves almost impossible to ignore without contorting your hands and fingers all awkwardly on the steering wheel so it covers up the glow.

Oh, My Aching Back!

2007-07-08T12:18:00.000-07:00

And hands. And arms. And elbows.

My 3rd Saturday at my new place of biz, and I think I destroyed any mobility I might possibly need in the future. It hurts to get up. It hurts to bend. It hurts to squeeze my hands, all the way up into my elbows and shoulders and shoulder blades.

My hands are numb, my fingers too swollen to hold a pen for journaling.

My lower back feels like something slid out of place, and it hurts into my left buttock, grinding past and through it, down into the joint where my thighbone meets my hip socket. It's not sciatica, I know what that feels like.

The middle of my back feels like someone spent all night jumping up and down on it.

I think it's from spending almost 8 hours bending, lifting, pushing, pulling, stacking, raising, twisting yesterday. But yesterday shouldn't have been the day to create such havoc-- wouldn't it have happened within the first few days?

Hopefully, it'll be mostly gone by tomorrow (I don't expect it to be ALL gone) so I can go to work and start all over again with the physical stuff. Guess I won't be knitting or drawing for a few days, at least until the swelling in my hands is down. Ugh.

Tomorrow will be a split day. In fact, the whole week will be split days, so I get to stiffen up between shifts. Lovely. And come home later than I want, like 11 hours later, and feel sorry for myself.

I like the people, except for a couple of workers and a supervisor, but I really wish it were closer, like IN TOWN.

Perks? I'm getting my strength back-- in fact, I went to the store to buy cat food the other day. 20-pound bag. Lifted it from the stack, and almost threw it through the ceiling! I thought, "What? The bags aren't 20 pounds anymore?" So I checked, and yep, they're still 20 pounds. I've just been re-developing my muscles, and it didn't feel like much weight. So, good! Also, I'm walking a lot faster than before. I hadn't realized I'd slowed down so much, but I had. So, good again!

Split Shift?

2007-07-01T10:46:00.000-07:00

Or lunch? That's the question. Actually, it's a very long, usually 3-hour lunch, which makes it a "split shift." If I got a regular 1/2-hour lunch, I could be off work by 3:30. But, no. I get a longggg lunch. In a town where I don't live. Too far to come home and go back.

So, I've gone exploring in this little (compared to my own) town, and found the bestest park! It's HUGE, and the old part, the part I like, is full of great, big old oak trees, so it's green and shady and very cool. Which is a good thing, because with temps in the 90's and 100's, green and cool counts for a lot. I'll have to remember to bring my camera so I can take pictures of the green-ness and cool-ness, and post them.

What do I do here in this lunch-place?

I park my car in the shade, pull out a book, and read. And eat my meal. And, the really essential part, I take a little nap. I've never, ever been a nap-person. I've only ever taken, maybe, two naps a year, and only when I was dead tired. I really don't like having to wake up in the morning, and taking a nap means having to do the whole "wake up" thing twice. So, naps have always been out. Until now, when I'm only sleeping about 5 hours a night. After a few days, I'm tired. So, I set the alarm on my cell phone for 30 minutes, lay back, and drift off. Not completely, but more a dozing sort of nap. It really helps.

I've also begun bringing my journal and my knitting. Here's a picture of the shawl I've been working on for Daughter #1.

It's only about 1/2 completed, and it's taking forever because it's almost completely garter stitch.

There's also a detail shot of the shoulder and center back.

Garter stitch should be quick, right? Okay, it is, but it's b-o-r-i-n-g. And this shawl is worked on the V, so the rows are each side of the V, and the shoulder/top section gets done with each V-side. So, this means my actual rows right now are about 200 stitches. B-o-r-i-n-g, and t-e-d-i-o-u-s. I'm using 36-inch circular needles, 2 of them, with a point protector on one end of each.

But I love my Daughter, and she wants a Faire shawl, one she can wear with her Celtic Faire costumes. So it's really plain, not fancy. I've included a couple of sections of stockinette, for a really basic design, and I'll probably put fringe of some sort on it once it's large enough. It's all acrylic, because no WAY am I spending the money on real wool or silk or cotton for something that's just gonna be thrown in the wash! Besides, it's warm, and sometimes there's snow at the Faires.

Last night both Daughters and I went to Target and bought a mini-DVD player, so I can watch a movie during my split shift sometimes. I didn't even know these DVD players existed until my little grandson was in the hospital for 5 days the week before his 6th birthday this past spring. Poor little thing-- he had "occular cellulitis," and his right eye was swollen shut and the eye was even being pushed from it's normal position. He was on an antibiotic IV the whole time he was in. But, he had a little mini-DVD player, so got to watch his Sponge Bob. Not that he enjoyed it much, he hurt a lot. There was morphine in his IV, too.

I've also been bringing my journal. It used to be my Morning Pages, but since I'm not doing it in the mornings now, it's a Journal.

So, anyway, I'm finding quiet ways to spend my lunch hours (literally-- HOURS), and I'll surely be looking for more ways as time goes on. Maybe I can find a cheap grocery store, and do my shopping. Nothing that'll melt or go bad sitting in my trunk, though.

So far, so good. Except for buying gas, because all this mileage uses it up! But I refuse to think about that.

Maybe these split shifts will be an oasis of calm. I like oases of calm. They're my favorite places to be.

Boy, Am I Getting Fit, or What?

2007-06-28T12:34:00.000-07:00

Not kidding. I've been overweight my entire life, but I've been extremely fit and athletic, and definitely muscular. In high school, one of my nicknames (from the guys on our track team, which I was on, too) was "Brickhouse." I won't tell you what some of my other ones were-- they reflected too much on my character. I'll just say that people who were new to school only messed with me once. Then never again.

Anyway, I lost about 80 pounds about 15 years ago, and didn't start gaining any of it back until about 2 years ago, and boy, did it start coming back! I've had a job the past 7 years that required sitting on my ass 8 hours a day, and had no life to speak of because of the swing shift I worked, so I couldn't even be in league sports like I've always been in. This was Very Hard, because I was such a tomboy when I was growing up, and by high school, I was a hetero girl jock. Volleyball (my favorite-- I got a letter in it), track (another letter), soccer (another letter). Archery, too (letter). Took two PE classes my senior year.

So, sitting and doing NOTHING for 7 years was hell. And I started gaining weight after 5 of them. My muscles started going soft. Lately, going up a flight of stairs has left me breathing a little more heavily than usual. My stomach got flabby and has started showing under my shirts as a bulge over the tops of my pants. Ugh. My upper arms started getting baggy. In fact, last week, before I started working this new department of my job-place, I stood in front of a mirror, stuck my arms straignt out to the sides, and flexed to get rid of the bags under my arms. The right arm got nice and tight. Okay, I'm right-handed, no surprise. But the left arm muscle DIDN'T MOVE! It freaking hung there, all the fat just hanging down in space. I couldn't even feel the flexing. NOoooo!

Well, this new job is PHYSICAL. Physical, physical, physical. I lost 2.4 pounds by the end of the first day. Another 2.6 pounds by the end of the second day. I haven't bothered to weigh myself since then because I'm too tired and don't care anymore.

However, all the bending and lifting and pushing and shoving and hauling and pulling and always, always movingmovingmoving has done something remarkable: I tried the upper arm thing after the 3rd day, and the left arm flab tightened right up! Matches the right arm, now. And the stomach bulge is almost gone, probably from all the bending and straightening and carrying 30and40-pound boxes and trays. The belly is being forced to contract, which it hasn't had to do very often for 7 years. I think my arms are tightening up because I have to repeatedly raise 15 to 20 pounds to above my head level, and I lift 10 to 15 pounds with one hand over and over and over. AND, going up a flight of stairs feels almost like nothing.

Who needs to join a gym when I'm doing all this physical stuff ALL DAY?

Another thing-- my blood pressure was in the stroke range, because of all the stress of not knowing what was going to happen to me when the old place closed, where I'd be sent, that whole emotional roller-coaster crap. Well, it's almost back to normal. I just checked it, out of curiosity, and there it was, still a little high, but gone wayyyyy down.

So, yeah, I have to get up at 3 a.m. everyday to get to work, and I don't get home until almost 7 p.m. because we have split shifts and it's too far to come home and go back, so I stay there, but the people are great (so far), and I'm getting back into condition.

Another thing: The last place I worked, no talking was allowed. In this new place, everyone talks, shouts, sings, laughs, yells. It's a crazy house. It's rushrushrush, because everyone has a deadline, but boy, are we allowed to talk! It's great.

Keith, once my BP is down enough, I'm switching to carrying, like you. I'll like that even more, I think!

It's Been a Lonnnngggg Time!

2007-06-19T13:08:00.000-07:00

I realize I have't posted since St. Patrick's Day, but you must understand-- I have a verrrrry good excuse. My life has been one unbelievable roller-coaster ride since shortly after that long-ago day in March. And it's not getting a lot better anytime soon.

Okay, here we go: I have a job that isn't very stressful. It's repetitive and mind-numbingly boring, sucks the soul right out of the top of my head, and you're not allowed to talk (gasp! Yes!) but, hey, it's a job and pays the bills. It's also very close to where I live. Only 6 minutes away, and yes, I'm spoiled. We have our schedules printed out a week in advance, but are subject to "find out the day before" change, and that happens A LOT. Those of us who work there no longer have any lives to speak of, because our shifts suck.

Unfortunately, this particular branch of the business is closing, which we found out very shortly after my last blog posting. November 2 is the closing date.

That's okay, though, plenty of time to find new positions. We thought.

Because of "career" advances, I'm now one of the lucky few who are being assigned to a "new" place to work. The November 2 closing has nothing to do with us-- we were originally told we'd be out of there by September. Then August. Then July. Then May 26. Then June 8. Then July again, and finally, June 23rd, which I only found out this past Saturday, June 16th, when I got a Letter telling me so. Letters mean it's Official.

We've also had many informational meetings held by the area leaders and union representatives, every single one of which contradicted the one before. Believe it or not, these leaders would argue with each other about the information being given DURING the meetings, IN FRONT OF US. Thank you for not causing confusion. It was obvious to us peons that NO ONE knew ANYTHING. And, silly me, I thought all this stuff being told to us was true because these were our Big Guys, the Heads of Heads. Nope. So I'd get my hopes up, then dashed, then up, then dashed, then up...

My blood pressure skyrocketed, which effectively ruled out 2 of the most attractive possibilities. Fortunately, I haven't gone postal. Pun intended.

We were told we'd have PLENTY of options. Some of us, the more advanced peons, were given more options than the rest of us, but those options are turning out to be moot, because THERE ARE NO POSITIONS FOR THOSE MORE-ADVANCED PEONS! But I'm selfish and don't care about THEM, only ME. That "plenty" turned out to be for jobs 100 miles away. Riiiight.

I now have to show up at my "new" job, this Saturday, at 6 am. It's a little over an hour away, and I don't know squat about this "new" job. I'll be in training for forever, and the commuting will eat up tons of gas, even though I supposedly have a car that gets good mileage. I'll find out and let you know if it's true. I don't know about you, but I think gas is kinda expensive, and I already know I'll have to give up my lattes and expensive dinners out (which I don't do anyway-- lattes are fattening, and I'm working during dinnertime) in order to pay for the gas. Maybe it'll be beans and rice from now on. And I don't even LIKE to drive!

I am not happy.

This has not been fun for me. I'm very change-resistant. I love roller-coasters, but not the kind I've been on the last 3 months. I haven't broken down and sobbed, although I've certainly felt like it. But crying never makes me feel better, and I look like death afterwards-- eyes swollen shut, puffy nose and lips. Ick. It ruins my contacts. And crying doesn't solve anything, either-- once you're finished crying, the reason for it is still there. So why bother?

My new job can run anywhere from 4 am (this means getting up at midnight, so I can get ready and leave and do the commute) to 7pm. And sometimes I'll have split shifts. I've done split shifts before, but I always came home in between. I won't be doing that anymore, not when the town I'll be in is over an hour away! Guess I'll be getting a library card up there.

Am I nervous? Yes. Am I scared? Yes. Am I staying? Hell, no! I put in for a transfer before I ever got my letter!

It may be some time before I post again. Patience, please.

2007-03-18T15:03:00.000-07:00

Hope everyone had a good St. Patrick's Day. We did! Had our Corned Beef and Cabbage (and potatoes, onions, and carrots), and Irish Soda Bread. The REAL kind, not the fancied-up versions that are so popular. Here's my favorite link for the recipe, from Shamrock Hill. It looks flat in the picture, but it's not-- it's nicely rounded with a thick, chewy crust all around the outside, and nice, soft bread on the inside. Daughter #1 made it. Daughter #2 did the meat and vegs, because I was at work. But I got to leave early, so finished making the dinner so Daughter wouldn't have to keep watching to make sure nothing stuck to the pots.

And here's one of the gloves I made for Daughter #1. They actually worked up pretty quickly. Even though it's been in the 80's this past week, she and her sister went to Roswell, NM a couple of weeks ago, and it's colder there than here, so they came in handy.

Things have been busy around here the past month or so, and I wasn't feeling real happy with all the unaccustomed activity, so I've been in my cave, dealing with it and keeping myself from losing my mind and/or turning into a royal bee-otch. Which is why I haven't been posting. I haven't even checked my emails except for once a week.

But I've been making stuff! I really need to get it out of the house, now. To make room for more stuff, of course. Because I can't stop my brain from thinking up new things to make!

Happy Birthday, Son #2!!!

2007-02-11T18:14:00.000-08:00

I Am Most Deserving!

2007-01-29T11:41:00.000-08:00

I'm re-publishing
some pics from last year, because I'm hoping to Win A Bundle from Sonji! She's giving one away to the most deserving of her readers, and I think I'm it, and if her Independent Judge checks out any of our blogs to see how deserving we are, I want something to show that I'm the most deserving. Because I am. At least in my opinion.

And this time I'm publishing them HUGE, so if the Judge wants to see detail, s/he can click on the picture and see the beading in all it's juicy-liciousness. Of course, so can anyone else who wants to see it, but I'm thinking "Judge," here.

So, that's the front. Here's the back.
Every one of these beads and dangles was handmade by Moi, me, except for the seed beads. Of course. I haven't learned how to make seed beads yet. I probably will someday, because when I start making something, the making leads to all kinds of other things, like "Hmm, I wonder if I can make my own seed beads?" I also made the face cabochon. I made it hollow, so it could be sewn to the fabric, instead of glued on. It's one of the items I sell.
I haven't used all the fabric yet, because I keep coming up with new ideas for more fabric colors and designs, so I actually have a whole lot of pieces of hand-dyed fabric waiting to be made into something.
I HAVE been making things, but I've been forgetting to take pictures. So a lot of my stuff is "out there," without my having made a record of it. Which is typical of me. Taking pictures is a step in the process that I don't always remember. For me, it's all about making something new and giving it away or selling it. Getting it "out there."
And I haven't been posting like I probably should. I really don't like "shoulds." Makes me feel obligated. I don't like feeling obligated.
This purple fabric is what I used to make the doll. But I fused some cut-up threads and netting to it to give it texture. Otherwise, it would have been just smooth. Smooth isn't a bad thing, but there was going to be a lot of bare fabric showing, and the dye job wasn't all that interesting.

So, here's hoping this post isn't as wonky-looking as the previews show. And here's hoping that I'll win that Bundle!!! Because I deserve it.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

2007-01-01T16:16:00.000-08:00

I hope 2007 works out 'way better than 2006 did. It's probably just me, but I feel last year had too many uglies in it. Sure, I had some positive things happen, but unfortunately, the uglies outranked the goodies. The goodies tended to get swamped and swallowed up, and the uglies are screaming for memory-attention.

So. 2007, please be nice!

I Want One!

2006-11-06T14:26:00.000-08:00

Doesn't this look like so much fun ?

Just imagine being outside in a large, open field, or at the beach next to the ocean, on a nice, breezy day, hanging onto your kite string and watching your kite reach up, up, UP into the sky.

Flying penguins, who woulda thunk it?

I lurv penguins, and I lurv kite-flying. It's a super-cheap way to get some good exercise (all that running to get the kite to take off) and fresh air, and you just can't NOT smile the whole time (unless it falls and lands in a tree or over some power lines-- that's not fun, of course). It's peaceful, too, and you can let your thoughts meander along with your kite, out there in the wild blue yonder, just drifting through the sky.

I wonder how much it would cost to buy a kite like this? Better yet, I wonder how long it would take to MAKE one? Making's always better, I think. For some reason, crashing a kite I've made is always less wrenching than crashing one I had to pay for. I just figure, well hey, I'll just make another one, and have fun doing it like I did the first time.

Anyway, wouldn't you like to have a kite like this, too?

Ok, I can put this up now

2006-10-23T11:05:00.000-07:00

This is a huge card I painted for someone at work (9x12, so it could hold lots and lots of signatures). A friend asked if I could please do it because there was going to be a "We Think You're Great and We're Glad You Work Here" potluck party.

I said, "Of course!" because I've known this friend since even before I started working at our collective place of employment, and she has a really good sense of fun. She wears a tiara sometimes, just because. I love that.

Also, I'm glad "Mike" is there, too. (Can you see where I blotted out his real name to protect his privacy, and put in a fake one? He's a pretty private guy.) He's been through quite a few levels of hell lately, and was out for a couple of months having surgery, and now he's back and still in pain, but keeping his sense of humor.

So, a few people decided to throw him a potluck. What a wonderful thing to do!

Too bad our place is LOADED with people who never got past the high-school mentality. You would not BELIEVE the hard feelings it all caused. I guess because each of them didn't receive a hand-lettered, gilt-edged personal invitation, they felt excluded.

People! This was a potluck! (Even I didn't know what it was for-- his birthday? A bar mitzvah? What? I just made the card.) Potlucks are "come one, come all!!!" Word-of-mouth invites are plenty sufficient, no?

Did any of you ever read Jonathan Livingston Seagull? Well, I started to feel surrounded by the squawking, shrieking, pecking seagulls that gave poor Jonathan such a hard time.

Oh, well. Probably it was really only a large handful of people that made all the noises, but it felt like an army.

And poor "Mike." I wonder how he feels about it all? The potluck was a definite surprise for him, which is what it was supposed to be. Without all the griping. If it were me, I'd want to just curl up in a quiet corner and put a blanket over my head and be left alone. But that's how I feel a lot of the time, anyway, so my viewpoint might be a little bit slanted.

Lord, deliver me from teeny-tiny-minded, jealous people. And also from friends having a generous impulse unless I know the WHOLE story!

Happy Birthday to Daughter #2!

2006-10-03T11:25:00.000-07:00

What We Did on the Autumnal Equinox

2006-09-24T11:27:00.000-07:00

Why, we balanced eggs, of course! Tradition at my house-- Vernal and Autumnal, we balance eggs. This actually looks a whole lot more impressive when you can see an entire pic, but I was too embarrassed to show my nasty porch, so I cut the revolting parts out. We really need to clean our porch! Ick. (Isn't it odd how you don't see something, really, until an objective third person/camera looks at it? Then you see TRUTH. No denial that way. You SEE it. Hence, the editing of my porch.)

There are 2 dozen eggs, and they took just about 15 minutes for 2 people (me and Daughter #1) to balance. And a few had to be balanced more than once, because we knocked them over. The Daughter HAS to make everything into a competition, which I always forget, and of course I rise to the bait, so even putting the eggs back into the cartons when we were finished turned into a race.

She won. But only because I didn't find out we were racing until almost the end.

Bunnies Rock!

2006-09-22T12:40:00.000-07:00

My little 5-year-old grandson wants another Bunny Rock. He has one I painted a few years ago for him, and now he wants another one. I have one I already painted, and I really love it, but I'm wondering if I should give him this one or not? The one he has already is brown, and is smaller.

This one's a lop-eared bunny. His other one isn't, it has straight ears.

Here it is in some ivy. His other bunny is in a more woods-y setting at his house. I don't know how this one would fit in with the same setting.

This view shows you the furry rolls a bunny has.

And this one shows you the profile, with some of the tail showing.

I suppose I could take it over to see if it would look okay-- but without his seeing it first, because then he'll definitely want it, and of course I'd give it to him! Or, I guess I could find another bunny-shaped rock and just paint another one...

What We Got Our Neighbor for her Baby Shower Gift

2006-09-07T12:52:00.000-07:00

'Nuff said.

Guess I'll Be Going For It

2006-08-20T16:25:00.000-07:00

I had a question, a cosmic question, a "What will happen if I...?" question. Here's my answer:

For anyone not familiar with the images and symbols of the Tarot (which is probably all three of you), this particular "spread" is saying GOOD THINGS. It's saying "Go ahead," with a caveat or two, but I already knew all that. It's telling me to get off my lazy scaredy-cat butt and just DO IT. I kind of already knew that, too, but I really am a scaredy-cat. I never particularly thought of myself as lazy, though-- more like a procrastinator extraordinaire. I can come up with a bajillion excuses to NOT do something, without even thinking hard.

Okay, now I need to get a backbone and get myself out there. Because I just got physical confirmation that what I want to do is a good idea. Okay, lots of affirmations coming up! I know I can, I know I can, I know I can...

My first cane!

2006-08-16T11:19:00.001-07:00

I finally took the bull by the horns and made a cane. Usually, when I want leaves, I use one color, and press the design into the clay, and that always looks pretty good. This time, I decided to get a little more advanced (which, in polymer clay, isn't very advanced at all, but for me, it is!).

See, I used to make dough ornaments-- thousands and thousands and thousands of dough ornaments, for about 6 or 7 years. Very labor-intensive, but in dough, you use only one color at a time, because if you mix them, you get mud. So, no canes.

I normally do my claywork the same way I did doughwork, one color at a time, or maybe all one color for a piece, with some staining for contrast. It always turns out well enough, and I was never interested in millefiore or Skinner blends or anything polymerclay-ish like that. Simple and clean. Some of my work is marbled, which is about as fancy as I ever felt like being. I love seeing other people's work, though, even if I never felt called to up my skill level.

But on Sunday, I got an itch. I wanted leaves. I wanted purty leaves. I wanted leaves that could stand up on their own, in earrings or a bracelet or a necklace, or a doll or whatever. I also wanted something that would blend with plain old green leaves, or vines, or something else solid. So I bit the bullet, checked online for tutorials that I would actually need to remember (I don't have any books on the subject! No! Can't believe it myself.), and got started.

Three times. Because I couldn't for the life of me get a Skinner blend! I got marble (pretty!) and I got a dull yicky flat piece (scrap!), and then FINALLY I got a blend. Oooo, I was so proud of myself!

Then I proceeded to make the cane BACKWARDS. So it was all wonky, and I ended up with more scrap. Then I put too much vein color in the wrong step, and had to carve it out with my stamp-carving tool, and hope for the best.

And it all worked! It's like magic, seeing all the goop at the end of a cane, then slicing that part off, and seeing a leaf inside. Wow.

The first pic is of just plain bead leaves I'll be using, and the second pic shows some leaves stuck onto some scrap-- they look kinda like artichokes, but I got an idea as I was doing it of shingles for a roof, or the sides of a gingerbread house, or scales on a fish. The biggest one will be a light-chain pull. I got the idea from Karen Lewis of The Spirited Bead-- but hers are 'waaaaay better! The principle is very similar to the Chili Ristras I used to make out of dough, but those were all formed as separate chilis, applied in an overlap design onto a center, and then baked flat. And now I'm having ideas about THAT in clay, only I'll make them smaller. And probably my hands won't be dyed red for a week.

Something I don't like, though-- I have to sand the fingerprints out of the leaves. In dough, there's no reason to have to sand anything. Dough just rubs smooth before you bake it. Oh, well.

Thank You

2006-08-06T14:03:00.000-07:00

to everyone who offered kind words, encouragement, prayers and strong thoughts.

Everyone is doing real well, relatively speaking. The funeral was originally going to be yesterday morning, but it was determined that Mommy's body most likely wouldn't be up to it yet. The day would be just too physically demanding, not to mention the emotions that would be created in a very raw soul.

So, it'll be in about a week, instead.

Son#1 and Mommy want a private burial. PRIVATE, as in just the two of them and her pastor. I agree with them on that, 100%. Son told me not everyone likes that idea, and I told him funerals are for US, the ones left behind, but the burial itself is THEIRS, absolutely and completely. No one has more right than them to say the final goodbye. If they want to be alone when they do it, then that's what they should do, and everyone else can wait back at the house. Amen!

Still, the two of them are doing amazingly well. We can't see what happens when all the visitors go home and the day is over, but when people are around, they're really PRESENT to everyone, and they aren't pretending. I'm so impressed.

I guess I won't be making them dinner for a while. I bought extra food to prepare during meal-making, but her church has an entire calendar full of people signed up to bring them their meals! Isn't that wonderful?

I think they're gonna make it. Yep, I do.

We Love You, Little Angel

2006-07-28T10:40:00.000-07:00

My little grandson, who was due in 3 weeks, didn't make it yesterday. Mommy almost didn't make it, but is finally pulling through as of this morning, and Daddy, Son#1, is holding up.

We all got to hold him and love him, and these are his little footprints. Daughter#2 designed this memory-piece for us.

Little Keaton came out perfect and whole, but his spirit is with God now. We have a new little angel in heaven to talk to.

2006-07-26T10:53:00.000-07:00

YESSSSS! Yesyesyesyesyes, oh, God, YES!

Happy Birthday to Daughter #1!!!

2006-07-25T10:38:00.000-07:00

2006-07-24T13:42:00.000-07:00

I'm still here, just having some computer problems-- I've been having to go through Daughter #2's member settings in order to log on to the Internet. Ran a virus scan, but don't know...

Anyway, here I am, and now, here I'm going! "here" being rather conditional...

Fun Things We Like To Do

2006-07-12T12:45:00.000-07:00

At our house, we find an infinite number of possibilities for having good, old-fashioned fun. We're seldom bored, but if we become aware of a case of impending ennui, we quickly remedy the situation. Here's an idea The Daughters had the other night (those two are just so creative!):

You've seen pics of our backyard. Well, this is our backyard at night. Scary, isn't it? All that STUFF (which we normally won't go near) piled around by the CONTRACTORS (whoops! My bad, sorry!). Well, The Girls decided to do a DARE. Dares are so fun! We like them.

So. Here's Daughter #1 going out on her dare. She has to go all the way around the piles of STUFF and stand in the farthest available corner of the yard. All the way back. (Except she's not really, because there's another section of our backyard that's fenced, for growing things and keeping the doggies out of it. Yeah, we have a pretty big back yard.)

Okay, here she is. You can't see what's behind and around her because IT'S SO DARK BACK THERE, but it's vines and whatever scary things might be in the vines. (We like it that way, so no negative thoughts, ok?) Notice the hood? It comes in handy, here. Scary things can't climb into her hair. She had to stay there long enough to get a decent picture. Or, rather, as decent a picture as could be got.

And here she is again, comin' on in! Notice the extreme relief on her face! See the adrenaline rush she's having! We like adrenaline rushes. Adrenaline is fun!

Here's Daughter #2 on her dare. Notice her posture? She isn't as prepared as her sister, so she needs to keep her limbs up close to her body. Also her head down, since she's 6'1", and who knows what creepy-crawly, scary things might reach out and get caught in her hair? And those vines! They could be s-t-r-e-t-c-h-i-n-g out, trying to grab hold. So FUN!

And here she is, getting her heinie outta there! With our semi-faithful hound, Lucy, who, I was told later, actually slowed The Daughter down by getting in the way. She was having fun, too! I think the adrenaline effect was a little stronger in Daughter #2, don't you think? She looks like she was about to wet herself, but actually, she didn't. Oh, the joy on her face! The accomplishment in her eyes! She completed her task!

See how much fun we have? We constantly amaze ourselves with our cleverness and creativity. Best of all, this was FREE entertainment! How much better can it get, huh?

Whew. This was all just sooo exhausting! Looking around for the next adventure...

Hell is Breaketh-ing Loose

2006-07-03T18:35:00.000-07:00

But not for me! No sirree, nope! Because I'm not talking, that's why!

"What are you not talking about?" you ask?

Ok, I'll tell ya.

CONTRACTORS

Something legal is happening, so I can't blog about it for a while. Don't know how long it'll take, either. But I have to keep myself hush-hush until all the parties involved have had their say! Can't risk blowing anything.

So, Shhhhhh!

Strong thoughts to all involved, okay?

Taking a Powder: A Tutorial

2006-06-28T09:50:00.000-07:00

It's hot, here. Been in the 100's the last week, and people are sweating. A lot. In fact, we'll all probably put on another 27 pounds this summer, because it's too hot to exercise. It's too hot to plain old MOVE. So we sit around, eating ice cream and popsicles, and watching each other sweat. If we get up, it's only to go get another ice cream or popsicle.

When it's hot, it's a good idea to take a nice, cool shower. Unfortunately, as soon as we put our clothes on, we start sweating again. (We could go naked, but probably we'd be arrested.) And then our clothes stick to us, negating the effects of the shower. So what do we do?

We apply liberal, lung-choking amounts of powder-- baby, medicated, bath, whatever. And cornstarch, which is good, too.

But how to get it on our backs without pestering someone else into doing it? What if we happen to be by ourselves when we need to put the powder on? What if we've already asked people too many times, and they get snarly and scary when we ask again, so we'd like to avoid that?

Well, here's how-- a Self-Back-Powderer.

Here are the easy-to-get supplies you'll need for a completely independent powdering experience: 1)A big stick (preferably without splinters-- I got mine at Walmart, 25 cents!); 2)an old sock (try to get one with no holes in it, or you'll end up with a huge mess-- I used one that will never be white again because someone wore it outside without their shoes...); 3)some kind of powder or cornstarch, whichever you prefer (cornstarch is a lot smoother and silkier than powder, but if you're someone with lots of folds, you might want to avoid it, because you could start growing fungus from using the cornstarch-- Eeeew!); 4)tape of some kind (but not the transparent, cellophane kind-- it'll slip and slide and not stick well); 5)a rubber band

Dump the powder into the sock, carefully and gently. You need to still be able to breathe while you're doing this. Don't fill it to bursting-- you only need enough to plump the sock a little. Then tie it shut with the rubber band.

Lay the tied, really powdery (by now) sock flat onto the stick, and tape each end around the stick with several passes. (I decided to go with cheerful, summery colors. I would have preferred orange, but didn't have any.) Probably you should wipe your hands off before doing this, because otherwise you'll get powder all over the sticky side of the tape, and then it won't stick, and you'll end up wasting good tape. Guess how come I know that?

And here you have it! A Self-Back-Powderer!

Just pick it up and slap it all over your back, like you would a backbrush. (Catholics will instinctively know how to do this.) Now you'll never have to get on someone's nerves by asking them to put powder on your back, and you'll avoid big piles of powder in all the wrong places by trying to sprinkle it on by yourself!

Incurable Optimism

2006-06-26T15:32:00.000-07:00

No pics today. Instead, please take a gander to your right for my Profile Pic-- that's me, the Penguin who keeps getting up, over and over and over and over...

The other penguin is Mean People, or One of the Various Circles of Life's Hells, or anything or anyone who doesn't follow my script.

Yes, I truly am that Penguin, getting knocked down, pushed over, then getting right back up and keeping on keeping on. And then getting knocked down again. And again.

But that's okay. Because I'm an Incurable Optimist. I'll get knocked over, be depressed and panicky and I'll wallow for a while, then get bored with myself, and move on. I can't describe how very boring I can be (I can name quite a few other people who can describe it at length!), but, like I said, I wallow and feel sorry for myself and have pity parties (alone-- don't need to spread my gloom and doom around, right? except it's amazing how many people are affected by my wallowing, even if I don't say anything). Then I make myself sick of myself and get the hell over it.

Scorpio with Sagittarius rising (and a Capricorn Moon, to boot-- what a whacky mixture!) is one of my explanations. Been doing astrology since I was eight years old, so at least I can know what to expect about myself (usually).

First you have the practical-but-emotional Scorpio moi, the Drama Queen who can't really enjoy being a Drama Queen because I always know when I'm being one so end up catching myself and stopping the drama. And I can't stand drama. It's boring.

Then you have the optimism of Sagittarius (compounded by my Jupiter being in Sagittarius, oh, eternally lucky me!) coloring how I look at life. Which is optimistically. Or have I already said that?

Both signs are very idealistic, too, so there's where a lot of my self-imposed pain comes in. My script. Realistic, Scorpio moi takes an intense look at reality, sees what's going on, and can even see the underneath, hidden parts and where they're coming from, and compares it to the ideal, how things SHOULD be (which I include in my script), then makes a value judgement. (I'm very good at that, too!) I think, or say, "Hey! You're not staying true to the ideal! Why bother to join/do [this job, this church, this whatever] if you're just gonna do everything your way, and not what was meant when it all started?" Operative phrase being "what was meant." I won't say what my judgemental thoughts can be. I'll only say I can feel pretty emotional about it.

And along comes the Sagittarius, the optimist, who also looks at things idealistically, only is much nicer than Scorpio, and says, "Hey! You're not staying true to the ideal! But I like where I am in all this, so I'll ignore the rest of you and have the fun I came for! Besides, y'all won't be sticking around, anyway, so things will change for the better! And there will always be nicer, more fun people to make friends with!" Which is also very much moi. You know, "A stranger is just a friend I haven't met yet." Operative words being "friend" and "fun."

Also, Scorpios are stubborn, stubborn, stubborn. Although I, myself prefer the term "determined." I refuse to give up. Which is a sort of twisted optimism, I guess.

Incurable Optimist. I could use a different approach and say I've learned to be an optimist because of past experiences, 46 years' worth, but I was like this when I was 3, and hadn't had too many opportunities to integrate into my thinking. You can't get much farther down than the bottom, I figure, so the only place left to go is "up." I will say, though, that I'm always hoping I actually have reached the bottom. Operative phrase being, "always hoping."

Yep, I guess that's it in a little nutshell-- always hoping, and not giving up.

This can drive my near and dear a little crazy, but who cares? Really? As long as I'm feeling upbeat, learning more and more, and having some fun along the way? (When I say "fun," I don't mean I'm a party-er, because I am SO not a party-er! I mean "fun" as in something that makes me feel good about wherever I happen to be. No matter how crappy that place is.)

You know what? I just re-read this, and this has been one long, boring post. But so what? I just therapized myself. Good for me!

Summer Solstice

2006-06-21T13:56:00.000-07:00

Merry Solstice, everyone! Today is the first day of Summer, the longest day of the year! I even named a Daughter after this day (no, NOT "Solstice!"). Although that would have been a too-cool name.

Guess what today means? It means after today, the days will start getting shorter and shorter. And when our temperature forecast is 111 degrees (like it is), shorter days with their cooler temperatures sound really, really good.

I'm always happy on this day. Not because I love the summertime, because I don't, I like autumn 'way better, but because it means autumn is coming up next. It could also be the result of so much sunlight on my pineal gland, I don't know.

I wanted to have a Solstice Celebration in my backyard, but can't because of all the junk back there from the new roof being put on the house. Next year, for sure!

But today is a good day! It's Summer Solstice! Woo-hoo!

Hummingbirds & Morning Glories

2006-06-20T13:38:00.000-07:00

(Yes, I painted this)
We usually start getting hummingbirds in our backyard early in the spring, before the leaves on the trees have started to open. I'll be out there, scooping poop or trimming the weed/grass back, and I'll hear the "zzzzzrp!zrp-zrp-zrp!" sort of sound they make, and I'll look around, and finally spy one sitting at the top of a bare tree somewhere. Little, tiny shape, at the tip-tip-top of the tippest, toppest-most twig.

This year we haven't had any, but I think it's because of all the work that's been going on with the house. I suppose all the hummingbirds have been scared away.

But, I know next year we'll hear them again, zipping around the morning glories and not being afraid of the big, black bumblebees that also zip around and crawl over and into the same morning glories. I swear, those bees are almost as big as the hummingbirds!
This is only a very short stretch of our morning glories. A previous tenant planted them, for privacy, and they've turned into a sort of flowering kudzu, crawling and climbing over everything in their path. They never die, only turn brown, and start greening up as soon as the days start growing longer. They never need watering, either-- they may go limp in the 100+-degree weather we have every summer, but they don't die. They're immortal. They're monster morning glories, and they eat the house. Literally. I cut them back, and in two weeks they've grown tendrils that snake along the ground, or reach out from the fence, and touch the house somewhere, and start heading up over the roof.

But they're pretty, they DO provide tons of privacy, the hummingbirds love them, and my backyard would feel so naked without all that color surrounding it.

Non-Creativity (Caution: Drama Queens Ahead)

2006-06-18T11:28:00.000-07:00

Well, this is about as creative I've been for a few weeks. I've had beaucoup de ideas, and I pull out the makings, but then I either forget what the idea was, or lose interest. I think it's low-grade depression, brought on by too much drama swirling around. Which will not go away. These copper-wrapped-with-beads earrings only took a couple of hours, but I only worked on them a few minutes at a time. No focus.

May sucked, and June started out looking better, but now it's going downhill like May did.

You know, all I want to do is live a calm, peaceful life, with some fun thrown in. But there are two Drama Queens who are making it very difficult.

One is one of the contractors who was hired to work on the house. Because of Mr. Drama Queen Contractor, both contractors have LEFT the picture. My landlady is dealing with it, but in the meantime my daughters and I have to live with the results of the drama. (We can sympathize with Mr. Drama Queen Contractor's difficult life history, but we refuse to accept it as an excuse for leaving a job undone. Grow up and get over it.)

See? We STILL have no place to bathe. Thank you, Mr. Drama Queen.

This is our clawfoot tub, UNconnected to any plumbing. That's a towel in the bottom hole, stuffed in by me. It's plugging up the non-attached drain hole in the floor, and keeps liquidy things from burbling up onto the bathroom floor. Which Mr. Drama Queen never sealed with grout sealer. The tub needs to be refinished. I don't care, I want a working tub!

I won't go into all the other stuff that's hanging in limbo around this place. It's just too, too boring.

Here's why I can't dye any fabric the way I like to. This is SOME of the stuff left over from having a new roof put on. SOME. You can't see the other piles. So, no backyard. I can't even weed-whack the weeds, because they're tangled around and in the detritus. And there are a few pointy things that would probably cause tetanus if any of us ran into them.

This was left by the other, non-dramatic-but-codependent contractor, who WAS finishing his end of things, but who got sucked into Mr. Drama Queen Contractor's cesspool.

My landlady is, as I said, "handling" these guys. She's also looking for replacement people who DON'T have high-maintenance significant others that show up at our house to scream and cause scenes, DON'T have $1500 monster-truck payments, and DON'T have alcoholic parents. Those things are NOT our business. Those things don't belong here.

People, I only want our house to be liveable again! Is that too much to ask?

I'd also like to go to work and do my job in peace, but there happens to be an older, unhappy bee-otch of a Drama Queen who is trying her best to keep things unpeaceful. See, a number of our group was "promoted," but she wasn't one of them. For some reason, I was chosen, by her, to be the spokesperson of this group of people, so I'm the one who catches her vitriol. She reminds me of the mean kids in school, who I tried to avoid, but couldn't always. So I dealt with them, and they'd leave me alone. However, if I were to try to deal with her in the same way, I'd end up in jail. Sigh.

I can't ignore Ms. Drama Queen, because she won't allow it. She's loud and aggressive and angry, and sneaky about it all. Oooh, the things she says! Naughty, naughty! Fortunately, only one person (a chameleon-person) takes her very seriously, so I don't have to deal with a lot of sympathy later. It's just really hard to concentrate on my job with that energy pulsating in my direction. (Actually, I think she's just jealous because I'm more creative, smarter, and better-looking than she is, and I have good kids. Of course!)

This drama is just so draining. Exhausting. I wish it would hurry up and pass. I just keep remembering that life is full of rivers of sh_t that need to be waded through in order to climb out on the other side.

This is just a little of the drama going on. I've spared you the rest of it. Otherwise, I'D become a Drama Queen, too, and I really would rather not be one.

I know how, of course (boy, do I know how!), but it's not fun, and I'd rather have fun. So I'll follow my own advice: Shut up, deal with it, move on. And keep trying to get some creativity going.

Oh, What a Month.

2006-05-31T14:23:00.000-07:00

(Click pic to read)

Happy Mother's Day!

2006-05-14T17:24:00.000-07:00

Here's the card my Darling Daughters made for me for Mother's Day.

Sweet, huh? They wrote "Maummy" on the front. Gee, I wonder how they came up with that?

Guess what I did today?

I fell on my ass. Literally. In front of several hundred (yes, that's literally, too) people who were milling around in front of the church, taking pictures of their kids and families for First Holy Communion. I am not exaggerating.

I had to park a couple of blocks away, so that meant I had to carry my guitar case, my briefcase (with my music in it), my guitar stand, my music stand, and my purse (which slipped down off my shoulder and twisted around my wrist). By myself. The Daughters stayed home to sleep off getting things ready for today.

Got almost directly in front of the church, and my heel caught in a raised piece of sidewalk. Damned heel. Damned sidewalk. Oh, wait-- the sidewalk can't be damned; it's Church property. Scratch the sidewalk.

As I very gracefully galumphed forward, trying to regain my balance, I thought, "I should be upright by now. I'm not upright." So I aimed for the soft, cushiony grass, because by then I was thinking, "Goin' down. I'm goin' down." I couldn't get upright because my briefcase and guitar weigh probably 30 pounds together, and the weight was preventing me-- like a boulder going downhill. Momentum, you know. Inertia.

Too bad the grass caught my heel again. And as I was aiming to kiss the ground, my instinctive reaction was to toss everything I was carrying and block my fall with my hands. But I really suck at obeying my instincts.

So then I started thinking, "Not the hands. Protect hands." And, "Not the guitar. Protect guitar with my life."

And oh, so gracefully, I did a turn in the air, curled my back, and landed on my bee-hind first, rolled up onto my shoulders, and came to a stop. Incredibly, I was still holding my briefcase AND guitar. See what 3 years of judo can teach a girl? I guess you never completely forget how to fall correctly. Well, thank God for that, huh?

Several people came over to help, and I almost had to push one woman away, she was so insistent on getting me to sit down. I finally convinced her I didn't want to, and she left. She was one of those Very Intense People.

Later, as I was setting up inside, I looked out and thought, "Boy. It's a good thing these aren't the people who were outside when I ate it. Those people were from the earlier Mass." WRONG. A little girl sitting nearby looked at me all wide-eyed, started pointing at me, and said something very excitedly to her parents. Then she looked at me and grinned. I sincerely hope I made her day.

I didn't get any grass stains. Actually, I didn't care if I got any. I just wanted my guitar to be okay! And it was-- didn't even go out of tune.

Hola, Chiquititos!

2006-05-12T19:46:00.000-07:00

Have you ever had one of those weeks where, at the end of it, you look back and can't remember anything you did? Except a few quasi-important things? I'm having one right now. I know I did stuff-- I was there when I did it. I know I went to work everyday, and I know I came home afterwards.

Wait, it's coming back.

Over the weekend, I made these:

which came out pretty poorly in the picture, so I put one on and here it is:

I love chilis, but I think I've told you that before.

These were a bitch to make because I kept hanging them wrong-- in order for them to hang correctly, the jump rings and the eyes on each end of the wrapped wire had to be in just the right places. I'm not the most patient person in the world, so these took a few days. Not the wrapping; the hanging. Also, these are too long for me, since I have no neck, so no neck pictures here.

I made these sometime the week before, but forgot to take pictures. I can wear these-- they don't dangle just above my shoulders. In fact, they make what little neck I have look longer!

Here's Daughter#1 showing what they look like being worn. Also, it was really hard to get a picture without that little shaky fist showing up on the LCD screen on the back of the camera, so this way, the earring held still, and the no shaky fist.

She does have a neck.

AND, say hello to my new baby! I finally broke down and bought a new guitar. I've been using my old one for 10 years, and I'm sorry, but I just couldn't take playing it anymore. I used it during rehearsals, and it sounded like crap because the neck was too wide and there was NO action at all-- I had to press the strings almost 3/8" to get to the fret, and forget bar chords! So, to play in real life, and not in rehearsals, I've been borrowing Son#2's Epiphone-- a sweet, soft guitar.

But, no more. Nope. I got me a little Yamaha number, now. The neck is perfect, and I can even wrap my hand around and play bass notes with my thumb! And the action is so soft it practically plays itself-- I only have to guide it a little. And bar chords, you ask? Well, let me say I can play any bar chord I want now, all the way up and back down the neck. The tone is clear and sweet. I love it.

I have to be a little critical and tell you I REALLY wanted the Martin, not the Yamaha, but it was more than I was willing to pay right now. It was so pretty, and the action was even better. And it was a MARTIN. I mean, who wouldn't prefer that?

I almost didn't get my baby, but the young child-- excuse me, young man-- helping me said something that clinched the deal. I was telling him we all needed new glasses, so I guess I wouldn't get my guitar for a while. Well, he said, "Yeah, I'm supposed to wear glasses, too, but there are some things that are just more important." SOLD! (Thank you, Dennis. And you weren't even applying pressure-- just loving the guitars.)

Yes, this all sounds like a very immature way of looking at things, but hey-- the girls will still get their glasses (or contacts, whatever), and I can wait until next year. I'd rather have an excellent guitar. Sorry, folks, but that's the way I am. Being able to play music well is just too important.

Hmm. Guess I remembered some stuff, after all.

Creations

2006-05-01T12:02:00.000-07:00

I was a busy little bee last weekend. I scrubbed the kitchen floor, scrubbed the lower cabinets in the kitchen (whoa! They're white! I wasn't sure anymore...), vacumned all to hell and beyond (dog hair will eventually take over the earth, it really will), organized all my art stuff (which is now un-organized), cleaned out the refrigerator, and made THESE:

Crow earrings. The birds are polymer clay, with gold leaf paint. Strung them on pins and made skinny coiled wire beads for under and over.

Lightbulb earrings. I was saving these burnt-out flashlight bulbs to use for something else (I was thinking boobs for an art doll), when a little light(bulb) went off in my head, and I thought, "Hey! Earrings!" People laughed, but liked them, anyway. And so did they. 2 ladies asked for a pair. And I've since gone back and re-strung them-- the tops are actually coils, now, but I didn't take a pic because I'm wearing them and forgot to!

Tangly wires-- I like these the best. Saw something in a magazine, Lisa Niven Kelly's "Tornado Beads," and fell in love with them. So, decided to see what I could do just by looking at the picture, and ended up with these. I honestly have no idea of the technique she used, but I knew how I wanted mine to be on each end, and worked from there. I made the ear wires, too, because the ones I had didn't match my wire very well-- too silvery. So I formed mine around one of my many paintbrushes.

And last night, Daughter #1 and I made Hot & Sour Soup. You get to see my really atrocious semi-printing. I went online and looked up about 15 recipes for the soup, and wrote down the common ingredients plus a couple that some Asian friends said they knew were in it (like the tree fungus and lily flowers). Gotta tell ya-- the prep time is pretty long, all the soaking and julienning, but the actual cooking time is short, and this stuff turned out exactly right! It was too good to only have one bowl. (The stuff in parentheses is how much I actually ended up using, and the comments on the bottom are my thoughts on it.)

I was really amazed at how inexpensive the exotic ingredients were-- I thought I'd have to pay an arm and a leg, but it was more like a pinky fingernail. We went to an Asian market (in fact, that's what it's name is, "Asian Market") and they had everything we needed, including the chicken broth (2 cans for under a dollar). The store also had a bunch of other inexpensive things, like pretty serving spoons and soup spoons (you know those kind, look like a longish bowl with a handle?), so we got some of those. The whole shebang was only $7! Got 6 quarts of soup out of it, and still have the ingredients for a whole 'nother batch. (Except for the broth. And the tofu.)

Also, if I ever become a Buddhist or decide to practice Shinto, I'll know where to go for my prayer materials.

I think the next time one of us had a head cold, I'll make at least the broth for this soup, and put a lot more chili paste in it. The spiciness is good for clearing a stuffied-up nose, and it tastes just so unbelievably good!

Back from the Shop

2006-04-17T09:50:00.000-07:00

Just got back from dropping my car off at the repair shop. The people there are very nice, and I see that they service the cars for the company where Son #2 works, so that was reassuring.

BUT, on the invoice I was given, in the section where the problem is described, they used "whooshing" noise, and it isn't a "whooshing" noise, it's a "whoofling" noise. It goes, "whoofle-whoofle-whoofle" deep down low. A "whoosh" is a totally different problem than a "whoofle." Right? They hadn't turned the car on yet, though, so they'll find out. But then they'll look at each other and say, "What the hell was she trying to say, 'Whoosh?' It's not a 'whoosh,' it's a 'whoofle!'" And they'll think I'm an idiot. Oh, well.

Hey, look! Look what was growing in my street!

Yes, growing right through the asphalt. A little fairy ring, so Daughter #1 and I had to go out and stand in the street, taking pictures. But that's just us. I'm sure the neighbors are almost used to us by now.

And look who showed up?

Mr. Farmer Gnome! Holding one of the very fruits of his labors. We had a bit of a time getting him to stand in the best position for the photo-- he kept moving around. And by then, a couple of neighbors were watching, but we told him to ignore them. He's a very proud Mr. Farmer Gnome-- a nice, fat crop!

I Finished the Doll!

2006-04-16T16:24:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow I take my car in to the shop. I called the place up, described my problem, and the man on the other end of the phone said, "Hmm, sounds like a belt." I thought, "You guys always say that!" But, a couple of other people I know said the same thing, and I thought, "Right. And how much do you know about cars?" But, I sincerely hope all three are right.

The shop offers towing, so I asked about it, and he said my car ought to still run and most likely wouldn't start smoking until right before I got to the shop. How very reassuring! (I only live a few blocks away, so maybe he wasn't just pulling my leg.) BUT, I haven't dared to start the engine since Thursday night when I jumped out to go be sick. I just really hate finding out bad things, like how much my electric bill will be, and that my car won't start at all. I mean, the man wasn't with me when my car started acting up, and maybe my word, "whoofling," wasn't descriptive enough for the sound it was making.

So, anyway, say a prayer, send strong thoughts, whatever. I'll be taking a deep breath and getting over this next hump in my life road.

In the meantime, here's my finished doll. I don't have a name for her, yet.

Um, as you can see, I forgot to rotate the picture, so I hope you don't get whiplash trying to look at her all sideways-like. But see? Boobs! This is fabric I dyed, then embellished and prepped to be the doll body. I made the face (first I made a modeling clay one, made a mold with that, then made the polymer clay face) and all the fancy-shmancy stuff hanging off her. Twisted and beaded the wires for the hands and arms. I love the boobs-- seems rather Wagnerian, don't you think?

Forgot to rotate again. Whoops. Also, it's not imperative that her hands and arms be posed the way they are. I just wanted them to show more clearly-- sticking straight down, or even slightly curved, just wasn't showing up. Oh, this is the back, by the way.

See all the beads? These are the main reason I took so long to finish the doll. I made all the danglies, and I ran out of the purple-y teardrop-shaped ones, so had to make more. Didn't have enough of the Tyvek ones, either, so I cut the ones I had in half, which actually worked out better. And the wire pieces I accidentally went crazy with, and kept adding more, and more, and more... You get the idea. For some reason, I'm finding myself heavily into spirals right now. Which will last, oh, another 20 minutes or so.

Yes, this is the same picture as earlier. I just thought it looked cool back there, like it was a picture of me talking to you. Except I don't look like the doll. Well, maybe the hips. Anyway, I had to include this even though it's a little blurry, because it shows the purple embossing powder melted onto her face. I'm thinking this doll was an experiment in purple, even though it's not what I started out trying to do. In fact, this whole thing wasn't what I started out doing, but that happens most of the time when I make something. Everything sort of evolves on its own.

Here's the back of her head. It's completely beaded underneath, with danglies hanging off all over. You can see I was having a spiral moment again.

Now I can hardly wait to start on my next beaded thing. I have the fabric ready, but still have to find the right colors of beads. I'm thinking I'll have to order them. And, I already have in mind the ones I'll be making. Color! Give me color! (But not purple. I'm purpled out, folks.)

2006-04-15T16:42:00.000-07:00

I'm sick. I am SO sick! You will not believe how very ill I am. Okay, I'm not dying, but I'm sick. I have that stomach virus that's going around like a plague, and I'm only writing today so people will leave me alone and let me throw up in peace.

This is how fast people catch this thing-- BAM!BAM!BAM! BAM! Almost like dominoes. And we fall over that quickly, too.

No warning, no "oh, I'm feeling a little funny" beforehand. Nope. Instead, you'll be feeling normal, laughing and talking with your buds, and the next thing you know, you have to race to the nearest bathroom to expel everything you've eaten for the last 24 hours. From BOTH ENDS, folks. I am SO not exaggerating. And it doesn't stop there. Approximately 16 minutes later, you go through the whole thing again.

Then again. Then again. And I'll tell ya, it was during one of those very bleak times, when I was whimpering against the toilet seat (thank You, God, that we don't have the Portapotty anymore! Can you imagine?...), sweating and trying to get my breath back, it was during one of those bouts that I finally understood how Jimi Hendrix died the way he did. Because the upchucking is so virulent that you cannot breathe. Literally. There's no time to come up for air. And it comes out your nose, too. I was expecting it to shoot out of my ears, but it didn't.

I'm pretty sure I caught mine from Daughter #2. She woke up with this thing Wednesday morning. I was leaving for work, and she came slamming out of the bedroom, said, "Move" and pushed past me into the bathroom. Door shut. SPLAAAAAAT! SPLAAAT! SPLATSPLATSPLAT!SPLAAAAAAAAAAAAT!

I'm right outside the door, thinking, "Is she vomiting on the bathroom floor? Right on the floor? Just like that? Right on it?" So I asked, "Honey, are you vomiting on the floor?"

More retching sounds, slight pause, "yes," retching sounds continuing.

Guess who got to clean it up?

So I got it next. But I could have got it from my grandson. Or from one of the 3 people at work who had it, and sit with me.

And check this out. I came down with this Thursday night. So what, you ask? Okay. Here's what: I had to stop by a friend's that night on my way home, to pick up some music for tomorrow's Easter Mass (I'll be playing), and when I got in the car to leave, and turned it on, there was a strange "whoofling" sound that wasn't there 5 minutes before, and it made the car shake. The daughters asked, "What's that noise?" How am I supposed to know what that noise was?

So I said a prayer and drove the couple of miles home. When I was back in my own driveway and idling, there was smoke, a burning rubber smell, and more strange noises. The girls exited the car (rather quickly, I thought-- thanks for the backup, guys) and stood there with their eyes popping out.

I turned the engine off, ran into the house, and proceeded to be sick.

Now I'm sick, with no car. Oh, Joy!

Fortunately, Son #2 is lending me his old car while mine goes in the shop (again). He loves me a lot.

Now I get to wonder how much it will cost to fix whatever is wrong, and will I be able to pay for it? But isn't that always the question?

All the little things, and no complaining today!

2006-03-30T19:32:00.000-08:00

I was hanging out at the mall, 3 weeks ago, waiting for the daughters to finish their business, and lo and behold, right in front of me, was a little cheapy-deepy boutique that does ear piercing. I thought, "Cool!" and went and had this little number done. I've been meaning to do it for a few years, but I HATE going to the mall, so only go maybe once a year, and I get what I need and leave. No wandering around, no window-shopping for Moi. But this was time waiting, which I also hate doing, so I snuck into the boutique and got myself pierced. I'm tellin' ya, it's gotta be 99% operator skill that makes or breaks a piercing. The girl who did mine barely touched me, and it was finished. No pain. Nada. And I can hardly feel it. Keep forgetting it's there. I was hoping to surprise the daughters, see how long it'd take them to notice, but Daughter #1 noticed within about 23 seconds. The boys took 2 weeks, and I had to tell them before they noticed. Oh, well. Turns out they noticed, but thought it was something I've had for a while (knowing me and my tastes), so they didn't say anything.

This is Ginger, our 11-year-old terrier/spaniel mix. She loves having her picture taken, and it seems to us that her previous owner must have had her wear sweaters and other doggie clothes, because she never minds one bit when we ask her to wear something ridiculous, like this bowtie for St. Patrick's Day.

This is Lucy, our soon-to-be 4-years-old Border Collie/Lab mix. She's usually a ham about getting her picture taken, but she intensely dislikes being made to look stupid, which is what she's thinking here: "Man, I hate doing this. This is stupid." We have another photo of her with the bow up on her head, but I thought I'd leave her with a little of her dignity intact.

Our Vernal Equinox tradition. (We also do it on the Autumnal Equinox.) Daughter #1 and I sat outside on the porch on a windy, freezing day, balancing eggs. We got more up than this, but the wind kept blowing them over. And our hands were so cold they were aching, so we called it a day, took a picture, and went in and got warm.

And this is an update on my first beaded doll. I've done some more since taking these pictures, and I'm almost finished. Needless to say, beading is addictive! I keep telling myself, "Okay, one more pass, one more pass, I'll just add this and then I'll stop, one more thing..." and next thing I know, it's 'way past time to stop and get moving. Oh, and see? Told you those weren't Venus de Milo's shoulders-- they're boobs! Only now you can tell.

My Amends, and more

2006-03-27T18:29:00.000-08:00

I owe the contractors I hate an amends, and they'll get one. Soon. I promise.

In the meantime, I went to the police department this morning. I needed to try to get out of a $175 ticket I received for parking my smaller car on the street so the contractors would have room to do their work. Which they aren't even close to finishing, yet.

See, I've been keeping my smaller, expired-tags car in the driveway. That's legal. It drives wonderfully well, but leaks when I buy gas, so I'm thinking on getting that small problem fixed. But, the contractors needed my driveway for their sawhorses and power tools and lumber and stuff. Plus, they needed to be able to go through the backyard with the bathtub and toilet and sink, which won't all fit through the front door. And haul sheetrock in, and all that other contractor-stuff, and with the car in the way, they couldn't get in.

So, I got a ticket. On Friday. NOT a happy day for me.

Because, although we have a toilet again (dandy one, too, only 1.6 gallons-per-flush-- a regular little power-toilet), it was installed 1 1/2 weeks after they promised to have it in. It was promised for the Wednesday before St. Patrick's Day. (We're not missing the port-a-potty, by the way.)

The washer/dryer combo was due to be delivered on St. Patrick's day itself, and it was, but the contractors didn't have the utility room (which was torn apart along with the bathroom) finished, so the delivery person couldn't install them. The contractors promised the room would be finished for the W/D combo. Instead, he had to leave them stacked in the backyard next to the house, in the rain.

The contractors didn't come on St. Paddy's. They didn't come the next day, either, even though they said they would be here, except to tell us they'd be here Monday. With all of us jammed into the teensy hallway, looking at the bathroom and utility room, my black dog was feeling left out and decided to join us, which meant she knocked over a gallon of white paint. No problem, until I picked it up without realizing it was upside-down. Problem. White paint all over the hardwood floor. And the left side of my dog. She really looked like a Border Collie, then. White paint on our shoes, white paint on the things being held in the hallway, and my landlady laughing her head off. Gotta love that woman! Besides, she's paying for all of this, including the new W/D, and she's not raising my rent. Bless her.

On Monday, they got the toilet installed. They brought in the tub and sink. The drain for the tub is 1" too far back for the drain hole in the floor. (Did I tell you they forgot to put in the drain hole? Well, they did. And when they put it in, they had to drill through the newly-set tile, and the new subfloor, and a joist. Then a new joist had to be scabbed in next to the one with a chunk taken out of it for the drain.) So, now they have to make a new hole. But, they won't be doing that until the tub is refinished, by the tub refinishers, and no one knows when the refinisher-people are supposed to be here. And the sink hangs over the corner of the bathtub almost a full 12". So, we have to order a different sink.

Last Wednesday, the contractors installed the W/D, turned it on, and it leaked from underneath, all over the new floor. Thursday, they tried to re-install the combo, plugged it in, turned the washer on, and blew the power out on the east half of the house. Whoops. We still have water in the machine because it won't drain out. Friday afternoon they came over for a few minutes to take away their tools and sawhorses and important work stuff , and replace the fuse that they'd blown out the day before. I was truly wondering if they weren't going to finish all the work. I wasn't home to ask them.

Today, the (large department chain-store that just merged with another large discount store) appliance repairman came out this morning (he looks like Burl Ives, or the Kentucky Colonel) and said it's not the washer. Well, shoot, WE could have said that! Except that every power tool in the world works in the outlet, but not the washing machine. He left. Of course. (Oh, yeah-- the dryer works perfectly.)

Gotta give those contractors some credit, though-- you should see my backyard! I had no idea it was that big. The grass is cut, the vines are cut, the palmetto palm is trimmed back, all the junk that's accumulated since we've moved in is gone, and even the dog sh** is gone. (I pick it up every day and put it in an empty dogfood bag, and when it's full, I toss it. John deserves a medal for that alone. He's a brave man, considering it isn't even from his own dogs. Trust me-- that makes a difference.)

An electrician is coming tomorrow morning at 8. So are they. I think they're worried about me being here with him by myself. Okay, not ME, so much as my potty mouth and not-real-thrilled opinions. But I'd never trash them! Never.

I HATE CONTRACTORS!

2006-03-26T17:42:00.000-08:00

Back again

2006-03-13T22:34:00.000-08:00

Hi. Just had to share something with you.

It's COLD here. Okay, so 46 degrees as a high isn't all that cold to a whole lot of the world, but in California, it's VERY COLD. Snowed real close to here over the weekend, but that was at 400 feet, and we're at, like, 60 feet. So, no snow for us. BUT IT'S COLD!

Anyway, the sharing part of this is coming up:

Coworkers and I were standing outside on our breaks, shivering and shaking and rattling our teeth, and one teeny, tiny coworker, a whole size 2 one, said, "My *ss is freezing!"

I said, "Try wearing two pairs of underwear instead of just one. No one will be able to tell, your pants are so loose."

SHE said, laughing, "Naw, that won't help. My underwear don't cover my *ss."

Okay. TMI. Too Much Information. I don't EVEN want to go into the pictures that I was desperately trying not to allow to form in my head.

What did she MEAN, her underwear doesn't cover her *ss?!? Of COURSE it does, that's what underwear is fo-- oh. OHHhhh. My.

Here was I, ever-helpful Moi, with absolutely nothing to say in response. All I could do was nod understandingly, and then go stand somewhere else. Far away.

And now I just shared it with you! YOU can have it!

Still here...

2006-03-12T14:00:00.000-08:00

still peein' outside.

Won't go into it much (okay, I'm such a liar!) except to say THIS IS GETTING REALLY BORING. The contractors keep telling us "by Friday," but they forget to tell us which Friday of which year. There have been too many "unexpected" developments, like having to completely remove the bathroom floor because the original was soggy, and putting in a new one. We had a huge, gaping room with a straight-down basement view for too many days, and it gave us the feeling we were about to tip over sideways and fall in whenever we had to walk past it. So we stuck our laundry hamper and a rolling wire shelf in front of the doorway to create a barrier.

They had to take out the wall between the bathroom and utility porch to make the bathroom 4" bigger so it would fit the clawfoot tub going side-to-side instead of lengthwise, the way it originally was. So we had no walls for a few days, too. Not good, since it's been raining! You know what I think? I think we should just ditch the tub altogether and stick a corner shower in. We never take baths, anyway, only showers. They're 'way faster. But, my landlady wants the bathroom to be "period," so the clawfoot tub stays.

And the house is so cold, our hands hurt.

And I really, really hate coming home from work to find out "they" forgot to turn the water back on when they left, so we have no water use and have to use the 2.5-gallon jugs from the grocery store. Once, the water was off for 3 days solid because it took that long before they came back to do more work.

Needless to say (but I'll say it, anyway, since I'm feeling bitchy), I haven't been able to do a whole lot of artsy stuff. You need clean hands for all that, and, although we can certainly wash our hands, we have to keep an eye on how many jugs of water we use. So, no impromptu hand-washing.

My sons are being pretty tolerant about us going to their place to use the shower. They'll be almost as glad to have our bathroom finished as we will. It'll save on gas mileage, too. No more trekking all the way across town to bathe.

I wander around a lot, mumbling "I only wanted the bathtub faucet leak fixed!"

I started working again on these gloves for Daughter #2-- this is the third one I'm working on, not because she has three hands, but because I'm using much bigger needles and yarn than the original pattern specifies. I wanted them to be done a lot earlier in the year (so did she!), but I get discouraged easily, and the two times I finished one and it turned out too big, I had to wait for myself to get some enthusiasm going again to start all over. This is something I can do without having to keep washing my hands! And knitting doesn't require water.

These are a few beads from the batches I made as an experiment with my convection oven. Got the oven a while ago to be "dedicated" to polymer clay, but every, single thing I've ever cured in it burned to caramel. I wised up and got an oven thermometer, and found out the oven heats 100 degrees F above the number on the dial! It's a EuroPro, and it's supposed to be really good for polyclay, but I guess that's AFTER you figure out the idiosyncracies of the oven. I also have to let the oven run for a half-hour, to let it go through its temperature spikes and finally settle down. I marked the temp positions in permanent pen next to oven dial, and I still keep the thermometer in the oven while baking anything.

So, here's the result of spending an evening sitting on the floor next to my convection oven, which is sitting on a kitchen chair, constantly watching the thermometer inside and making adjustments, and knitting to pass the time. I think I'll finally be able to start making things again. As long as the water stays on and I can keep my hands scrupulously clean.

Outhouse-ing

2006-02-27T13:00:00.000-08:00

Good morning, I'd like to introduce you to our nice, new bathroom. It's our own, personal, portapotty. Cool, huh? Don't you wish you had one, too? They're pretty reasonable-- $77 a month!

See where it's standing? Right there up against our privacy fence, and when our preeverted neighbor saw it being delivered, he used language that I can't print because it would make my keyboard bleed.

At first I wasn't happy about all this. Okay, I'm STILL not happy about all this. But then I started thinking how lucky we are to be able to have a place to live and a place to potty. We're Catholic, and Catholics are big on "offering it up", all the stuff that makes life a pain. Usually we're supposed to "offer it up" for "the poor souls in Purgatory," but we can choose a particular designee, if we'd prefer.

So, I decided to offer up this tremendous inconvenience (no water, an outhouse) for all the hurricane victims who had NO PLACE to belong. I haven't forgotten them! So many had NO PLACE to return, either, once people started being allowed to go back. So many STILL have no place to belong. Compared to those people, I'm in the lap of luxury. And "tremendous," in comparison, seems too strong a word.

I'm not real great at not bitching, though, and this is supposed to only take a "couple days." So I'm bracing myself for a "couple weeks." Better to be conservative that way, I think.

Beginning my first doll

2006-02-26T11:32:00.000-08:00

<--This was our dinner a few nights ago. It's Stir-fry, and looked so pretty cooking on the stove, I had to take a picture of it. You can even see the steam coming up from it. Too bad I forgot to take pics of the finished food sitting on a plate, or something. We were too hungry. Here's a hint on making stir-fry: cutting up all the vegetables takes the longest amount of time in the whole preparation, so start your rice cooking while you get the veggies sliced. If you wait to cook the rice while you get the vegetables cooking, you'll end up with really soggy veggies-- they only take a few minutes to cook.

This is the reason we ended up eating our stir-fry at 9:00 at night. I was getting the fabric ready for this doll, and completely lost track of time. She's not nearly done, yet-- I've only just started beading her. I won't completely cover her with beads and hangy-down things, because I want a lot of the fabric to show. I made up the pattern. I need to cut a bigger head, I think, and I included boobs, but they ended up looking like Venus de Milo's missing arms.

Her face is one of the faces I showed on a previous post.

Her body is made from some of the fabric I dyed and posted earlier, too. It was one of the more boring pieces, so I fused some threads and matching tulle to the fabric, then drew a pattern on it, sewed it up, turned it right-side out, and stuffed it. Whoa. Fused fabric is really, really stiff and hard to turn!

<--This is our new pergola. Brad and John built it, and it's over our driveway. This is NOT a carport! We have a garage, but my landlady saw this in a picture, and wanted one next to the kitchen. We are now the envy of the block.

<-- Our new privacy fence. See the windows to the house next door? You can't? Good! The preevert who lives there can't see ours, either, which was the whole point of the fence. The guy would stand in his kitchen without the lights on, thinking we couldn't see him, and watch into our kitchen. The thing is, he's reallyreally white. And he often wears a white T-shirt, or doesn't wear a shirt at all, in which case he positively glows in the dark. This was Not Fun for us. We couldn't keep the curtains open (they aren't sheers, that's for sure!) because he'd be there, looking. What a creep. Standing all still and quiet. So now we don't have to worry about it. Daughter #2 is just over 6' tall, and if she can't see over the fence into his kitchen, we know he can't see over the fence into ours. My landlady was over, before the fence was torn down and rebuilt, and there he was, standing off to the side, and she saw him, and said, loudly, "Oh, yeah, I see him, too! Well, we'll be taking care of him, now, won't we?" And she turned and looked right at him. She is so cool. I won't tell you the nasty, crude things he called her, right to Brad and John's faces, when they told him about the new fence going up. He had a horrible temper tantrum, too, and started throwing stuff all over his backyard, swearing so much he could have lifted the roof off a house. This is the man who tells everyone how to be a Christian. Mmm-hmmmm.

Next up, starting tomorrow, will be the bathroom. We'll be bathroom-less for a while. Contractors say "a couple of days," but I say at least a week. All the plumbing in this place is from the 1940's, and is leaking like a sieve, down into the basement, and there's water damage in the floor. I think they'll have to put in a whole new subfloor, too, but you know contractors-- ever the optimists. Brad and John are wonderful young men, and do phenomenal work, but they're still contractors.

A Tyvek Bead Tutorial

2006-02-20T12:05:00.000-08:00

Here's a pictorial on making Tyvek beads. Just remember to twist the bead around the skewer, moving it up and down a bit, each time you use heat of whatever sort you've chosen, or else you'll never get the bead free.

<--This is a plain piece of Tyvek. Just laying there, begging to play.

<--These are pieces of the Tyvek, painted all nice and shiny. Metallic acrylics, and Lumiere.

<--This is the Tyvek all cut up, ready to roll.

<-- Rolling the Tyvek. Remember 5th grade art class, when we made those hideous rolled beads out of magazine pictures? This is rolled the same way, only around a bamboo skewer instead of a nail, and it's a lot prettier. By the way, some skewers are better than others for beads-- Good Cook skewers tend to splinter along the length, from moving the bead around. Be careful, or you may find out why bamboo splinters shoved under fingernails can be so effective as a torture device!

<-- Finished rolling. I used a glue stick to attach the little end to the rest of the bead. Tacky Glue works well, too.

Melting the Tyvek bead with the heatgun. Keep your fingers away, there's some real heat going on.

This is another really neat way to roll the Tyvek onto the skewer-- twist it around the skewer, and both sides of the Tyvek keep showing up, alternately.

Finished twisting.

A melted twisted Tyvek bead. These are so cool-- really unusual.

Using a soldering iron on a bead, instead of a heat gun. A bead has to be pretty firmly twisted onto the skewer, or else it just slides up and down and you can't get anything done.

See the smoke? This is the kind you DON'T want to inhale!

Finished soldering. See all the smooth surface? Now take your heat gun if you want, and melt it all up. Or not. Or keep on soldering.

A pot o' beads.

2006-02-15T23:16:00.000-08:00

Okay, aside from having contractors thunking through, over, under, and any other preposition you can name, and taking Valentine's Day off as a special treat for myself (hah! the joke was on me-- I had no idea all those prepositions would be going on during my Valentine's Day) I decided to do something I haven't done in years-- dye some fabric.

They all turned out pretty well, but you can't tell from the pics. I ended up scanning them because my digicam doesn't take extreme closeups. Sigh.

The purple was the last one I dyed, and it obviously had something going on, because it came out 2 different colors. Gee, do you think it might be because I left it outside too long, and the sun shone full on one half of it? I forgot it was out there.

The piece with the circles is my favorite-- it's actually a yellow-green between and around the rings. And the pink with all the colors on it is good, too.

If you can see all sorts of wavy lines running through a pic, it's just a sort of strobe effect from the lighting in the scanner-- this fabric is actually sheeting, just plain straight woven material. It all looks a lot better in person.

But I got it all done. Plus some other stuff I'd been planning to do. It was hard, though, because the water kept having to be shut off. Fun. I never realized how much water we use on a normal basis until I couldn't use it anymore.

I ended up going to the store and buying 10 gallons of water. That worked, but I got pretty stingy with it! People had to convince me they really, really needed it before I'd let anyone use it. I went a little crazy, I admit.

And, despite my plans being completely overrun, I had a good Valentine's Day. Especially not having to go in to work!

2006-02-13T15:22:00.000-08:00

These are the men who are rescuing my bathroom.

<--This is Brad.

This is John. John is shy.-->

Yes, these are the heroes who will be completely replacing everything you can put your hands on in our teeny bathroom. They're on their 3rd run to the plumber shop because our clawfoot tub won't take nowadays-sized pipes and fittings.

In fact, they're on their way right now to get a new nipple. Yes, folks, that's what they said-- "a new nipple." They need one that's 4" long because our bathtup has an "oversized lip."

They needed to drill a bigger hole for something or other, and we heard one say, "I'll take it from behind," and the other said, "Okay, but be gentle." What a funny pair of guys! (Actually, they ARE funny-- we had to go outside on the porch so we could laugh at some of their plumbspeak. And they're supersuper nice, too.)

Now, aren't these good pics? We haven't had to deal with any cracks-in-the-butt or low bellies poking out. Not one. Thank you, Jesus.

Now, I just have to figure out a way to marry them off to my daughters...

My Week-and-a-Half from Hell

2006-02-12T12:30:00.000-08:00

You know that saying, "When it rains, it pours?" It's true. You know that saying, "What goes around, comes around?" That one's true, too. Karma really does come around and bite one right in the heiny-bumper. Here's what's been happening on my end:

Car accident, ambulance ride, head sutures, house flood, foot-through-floor, and grumpy people. None of this happened to Moi, except for the stuff in the house. The grumpy people were at work, so I avoided them because I don't need any more negativity, thank you very much. However, the people that these things happened to are family, so Moi still had to be involved. All is now well.

I'm not a fanatic about it, but I honestly believe in the Law of Attraction, only I've always known it as Karma. I truly believe that negative thinking brings negative things, so I work really hard at being positive. I also try to avoid negative people because I don't need any help in being angry and resentful. I could teach an entire course on negativity, I do it so well. And I've been trying and trying to not be negative or wish dire things on certain people, but I obviously haven't been successful, or else Karma would have left me alone. Hence, the Week-and-a-Half from Hell.

So I didn't get very much done on my "stuff."

Here are the last batch of Tyvek beads. You're probably sick of them by now, but that's okay-- so am I!

I was planning on doing step-by-step photos, but ended up not doing it yet because of all the other things going on. I'll still do it, though. I wish I'd had some step-by-step photos to look at before I started, but hey, it's all good, right?

This is an experiment in fusing. I just wanted to see what would happen if I blobbed a bunch of stuff together all over some fabric. I also wanted to see how many layers I could stick on before the sticky ran out, and how thick I could make the paint that was used. Normally it's diluted, but this paint was straight from the jar/tube/bottle. And, it was heavy-duty fusing web, not the lightweight, so it came out shiny and pretty stiff. I have a feeling it won't be very needle-friendly. I'm thinking the needle will pick up a lot of sticky. Probably wouldn't be much of a problem with hand sewing because I can clean the needle easily enough and keep on sewing, but machine sewing would be a real pain. Guess I'll be finding out, huh? I'll just do more experimenting on this, and see what happens.

More Tyvek, only I like these better...

2006-01-31T21:35:00.000-08:00

These were done with a heat gun...

and these were done with a soldering iron.

I still like the soldering iron ones better than the heat gun ones. (Excuse the lapse in grammar, I'm not feeling particularly GC right now. GC= Grammatically Correct. At least my spelling's on target, and I don't use that stupid spell check thingy, either. So there.)(Oh, and I'm rarely PC. I'm usually PI. Figure it out.)

The ones done with a heat gun were also covered in sparkly embossing powder. In order to see a difference, I used a clear embossing powder on the ones done with the soldering iron.

Tip: If anyone makes these and decides to use a soldering iron, KEEP YOUR FACE AWAY FROM THE BEAD while melting the Tyvek. Keep your hair away from it, too, because hair really stinks when it burns.

All in all, I'm very happy with these beads. In fact, I'm about to go paint more Tyvek and make lots more beads in many more colors. Happy beads.

Got a new schedule at work. I now have Sundays and Mondays off, and it'll take some getting used to. I've never minded working Saturdays, so that's not it. What IT is, is the sounds of the neighborhood on a weekday.

Sundays all sound the same-- people working in their yards, kids playing outside, music playing while people wash their cars. I know what Sundays sound like. But weekdays are strange-- even the birds sound different. I'm used to hearing kids walking to school and people leaving for work early in the mornings. It's after that. Everything is dead quiet. It's nerve-wracking, I'm tellin' ya. I kept going out onto the porch to see our ghost-town of a neighborhood.

But there's good news about having a weekday off-- every place a person needs to go is open. Now I can go to the gas company and find out why my bill is 4 times as much as last year. I can understand the 40-60% price increase, but 400%? Come on! So next Monday will see me at my friendly gas company office. Yes, I tried calling, but they told me I'm not the person living in my house. Hah! How do they know? They don't live here! I happen to know that I AM the person living in my house!

Okay. On to making the beads.

Blecch

2006-01-26T18:25:00.000-08:00

Hi, guess what? There's a new digital camera residing in our household, but I have yet to use it! Why, you ask? Because it's never here! Or, rather, I should say it's never here when I want to take pictures and post them to this blog! So I present to you some crappy beads uploaded from the scanner. Again. And blurry, again.

Doesn't matter, really, since they turned out so poorly. I've been wanting and wanting to make some Tyvek beads, since I've seen some that looked so pretty and sparkly. Did all the research, got the Tyvek, no heat gun, but, hey, I have a soldering iron! So I painted my Tyvek, rolled it onto bamboo skewers, and used the soldering iron to make it all nice and melty. The beads didn't look a thing like what I've seen in other places, but I really liked the finished effect. Well, I should have left well enough alone.

Instead, I found out how inexpensive heat guns can be, so went out and got one last night. Came home and just HAD to use it on the beads I'd made. Ugh! Put some pretty embossing powder on them. Eeww! Tied some fibers around them. Pee-oo! Fiber stinks when it's burning and dripping onto a hardwood floor. Wound some wire with beads on it left over from another project, and melted the beads. Like I said, I should have left well enough alone. I just took those babies and went from unique to ugly. Trust me on this-- they look much better in the picture than in real life.

These are the beads I could get off the skewers. The rest were stone-dead, and had to be trashed. Ah, well, such is life. Had lots of fun experimenting, though. I was melting everything that was meltable, just to see what would happen.

Have some more Tyvek painted and drying, and I'm bound and determined to get some lovely, nice beads made. Think I won't roll the Tyvek strips so tightly to the skewer, and once it's melted, I'm leaving it alone! Except for embellishing. But without using more heat!

P.S. I have a Theme Song-- "Tiny Bubbles," and I canNOT get it out of my head right now! I sing it to myself and anyone within hearing range when I'm feeling stressed, and it works. How can anyone stay stressed if they're singing "Tiny Bubbles?"

Gone Digital

2006-01-19T20:17:00.000-08:00

I'm especially writing this post for a veryvery nice person at work (hi, Keith!) who offered his digital camera and fingers (digital digits? God, I slay me!) to take GOOD pictures of all my "stuff". The scanner thing was getting old. It's hard to balance little faces on their little noses, and shiny stuff gets killed in the finished photo.

I AM LOVED! I now have a digital camera in my kids' hot little hands. It's not in my hands because they took off with it when I wasn't home. And I haven't been able to write about it because my ISP has been really stinky, so going online during waking hours has been undoable.

BUT-- now I can take pictures of ALL MY STUFF. Including a couple of chests-of-drawers that would have played hell with the scanner. And load them into the computer as soon as I figure out how to do it.

I know-- you can hardly wait!

I'm Not Being Sued!

2006-01-12T17:40:00.000-08:00

In my last post, I received comments from 3 people who are ARTISTS. I mean real, honest-to-gosh people who are very, very good at what they do. Seriously. Valeri, of dyeing 2 sew and Farne Designs, does gorgeous, beautiful art quilts and she dyes her fabric herself. "Mamarox", of SassyArtGoddess.com, makes the most beautiful beads and pendants, and I want to be just like her when I grow up. And she's also very nice and isn't going to sue me. And Cluny Grey, of The Cluny Chronicles and The Jewelry Blog, designs jewelry that, when I first saw it, said to myself, "Oh, hunh-unh! You didn't make that! Everyone knows they grow like that and you buy them at the store." (Like pickles. Does anyone besides me remember how old they were when they found out pickles don't grow, you make them? Hmm. Maybe it's just me, then.)

Anyway, I'm sort of in awe that these people actually wrote in my blog! These are people who are so talented they shouldn't be wasting their fingers typing comments in my blog! They should be making more beautiful things!

Oh, here's some more stuff I did. It's not all finished, yet.
I don't know why it's blurry. It's not like I shook the computer while I hit the "scan" button. The original came out cleanly, but not this. Oh, well.

Some of the faces are hollow and are pierced, and others are solid, with findings so they can hang. I want to make a couple of beaded pins with the hollow, pierced ones. The flat beads still need sanding.

I sooooo need a digital camera!

I guess I'm being a little dramatic. Probably I should calm down. But the reason I had to write all of the above is that all three of them, true artists, said basically the same thing-- there's nothing new, really, and I just brought my own spin to things. And I feel so much better, now.

I think it's left over from my childhood. In 4th grade, I entered a cake decorating contest, and made a doll cake. I was disqualified, because the judges said a 4th-grader couldn't do "work like that." And in 5th grade, I almost got in trouble for plagiarism because 5th-graders aren't supposed to be able to write clearly and have as large a vocabulary as my report on Colonial America had. The teacher apologized later. (I got disqualified from the cake-decorating contest that year, too-- made a wedding cake. Never entered another one again.) And in 7th grade my best friend, who could draw like a fiend, accused me of copying the pictures of people I'd drawn and had stuck on my bedroom walls. She told all my other friends I copied, and I had to sit down and draw for them, to show I really could do it by myself.

So, see? And now I have REAL, TRUE ARTISTS telling me I'm doing just fine, and to just keep going. So there, Bob Dale. And Nora Smith. And Nancy McClure!

The Hundredth Monkey, again

2006-01-07T12:01:00.000-08:00

I've been working with polymer clay for a while, and last winter I was doing some experimenting. Decided to see what would happen if I carved a couple of face stamps, and squish them into some clay. So here are the results:

The eraser carvings are there, the face beads (or cabochons if I use them that way), the stamp impressions on some pieces of paper.

I had to go dig these these out from the nether regions of my non-centrally located "craft centers" because of this--.

See? And there are other things this famous lady has done that are real similar to things I've done.

So, I have a really big question, with a possible scary answer: If I decide to sell my faces, or items using them, will she or other people think I'm stealing from her? I swear to God, I never saw these faces anywhere except in my head, and the idea came from Chinese carvings. Another question: Can she sue me? Another one: WILL she sue me?

Granted, hers are nicely finished, but mine are just experiments, at least these ones are. I just wanted to show what's happened.

Has anyone out there ever been through this themselves?

I keep thinking this is that Hundredth Monkey thing all over again-- so many times I come up with an idea, and a little while later I see it someplace else, then someplace else, and I kick myself because I didn't put it out there first, and then I don't do it at all because I don't want anyone thinking I was copying!

If it IS that Hundredth Monkey thing, how come I just always seem to be the last Monkey? How come I'm the Saturation-Point Monkey? I'm that last drop that causes the rest of the water to spill on over the sides.

I swear (and believe me, I really DO, when these things happen), it's getting to the point where, if I have what seems to be a good idea, I immediately regret it, because I just know I've sent that idea out there to swirl around and land in a whole bunch of other people's heads. Or I'll try to slam shut my mind so no one can read the idea I just had, and I start looking around furtively, to see if I can spot the idea popping up on anyone's face.

Oh, what to do, what to do? Geez, I HATE when this happens!

Quick Update re Flash Floods

2006-01-03T10:37:00.000-08:00

Thank you, Val, for the good thoughts. It's half-sunny right now, but more rain is expected tonight. No warnings, thank goodness.

Took the bigger dog for a walk last night, and, sure enough, there were the emergency workers and sandbags, and road closure signs. And a news van, but we got there after their coverage.

We didn't get the high water, so no flooding on my street, except for the end of the block where we have "Lake Kelley." (That's what we've named the "lake" that forms everytime it rains.) All the people just go the other direction to get anywhere.

It flooded a couple of blocks over, though, where the sandbags had been waiting. Those are the fancy, big homes right on the edge of the water. Hope they're okay.

So, so far, so good. I kept thinking of Florida and Katrina and Texas, and thinking that my situation was a laugh in comparison.

2006-01-02T17:27:00.000-08:00

Omigodomigodomigod...

"Weather > Storm Center > California > [My City!!!!!!]

FLASH FLOOD WARNING
NATIONAL WEATHER SERVICE SACRAMENTO CA
440 PM PST MON JAN 2 2006

THE NATIONAL WEATHER SERVICE IN SACRAMENTO HAS ISSUED A

* FLASH FLOOD WARNING FOR...
CENTRAL STANISLAUS COUNTY IN CALIFORNIA
THIS INCLUDES THE CITY OF [MY CITY!!!!!!!]

* UNTIL 1030 PM PST

* AT 430 PM PST...FLASH FLOODING WAS REPORTED FROM OVERFLOW OF DRY
CREEK NEAR CRABTREE ROAD. FLASH FLOODING WILL PROGRESS WESTWARD
TOWARDS THE CITY OF [MINE!!!] THIS EVENING. THE FLASH FLOODING IS
EXPECTED TO REACH [MY CITY!!!!!] BETWEEN MIDNIGHT AND 3 AM.

* HIGH WATER LEVELS ALONG DRY CREEK WILL CAUSE FLASH FLOODING AS THE
WATER MOVES WEST FROM CRABTREE ROAD INTO THE CITY OF [MINE!!!!!!]. THE
AREA OF HIGHEST WATER IS EXPECTED AT THE INTERSECTION OF DRY CREEK
AND THE TUOLUMNE RIVER IN THE CITY OF [MINE!!!!!!!].

* PEOPLE ADJACENT TO DRY CREEK NEED TO TAKE ACTION IMMEDIATELY. THIS
IS A DANGEROUS SITUATION. MOVE TO HIGHER GROUND AWAY FROM DRY
CREEK.

* AREAS IN THE PATH OF THE HIGH WATER INCLUDE BELL ROAD...ELLENWOOD
ROAD...COUNTY ROAD J9-OAKDALE/WATERFORD HIGHWAY...ALBERS...AND
LOCAL [MY CITY!!!] CITY STREETS CROSSING DRY CREEK."

People, the Tuolumne River is 3 BLOCKS FROM MY HOUSE! I can't have a flash flood going through my house! All my projects will get wet! So will everything else we own, which, admittedly, isn't a lot, but this computer here cost me some dinero!

Ok, I need to calm down. Ok. So far, there's only flooding near where I work, which is right at that intersection mentioned above, and that's 2.5 miles from here. And, we're on the uphill side of the river's banks.

The girls just drove by the park near the creek and said the emergency workers and sandbags were ready and waiting, and the floodgates are closed and warning flares are laying around, burning. And cinderblocks and 2x4's. Those two just HAD to check it out. Oh, joy.

Ok. If you don't hear from me in a couple of days, well... I guess you don't hear from me. And you'll know why. But send me coffee, lots and lots of coffee. Oh, and some candy, too.

Yeah, I'm being pretty nonchalant about this, but it beats running around and panicking with absolutely nothing I can do about it.

But I'm keeping my ears peeled for Jeeps with bullhorns telling us to leave... that's how it was in South Carolina, anyway, when hurricanes and tornadoes were in the vecinity.

2006-01-01T11:08:00.000-08:00

Here's my new calendar-book for this coming year. I never can find the cheapy-deapy 99-cent ones when I need them.
It's still somewhat naked because I haven't done any embellishing yet, just the basics. And May is the last month I put in. I used a frozen pizza box (I liked the colors) for the cover, and composition-book paper for the pages. But I found out I don't like this kind of paper. It's so thin! The inks and dyes and felt pens show right through
to the other side. This paper is fine if the pages are prepped with paint or gesso beforehand, and let dry, but trying to erase a pencil entry on prepped paper is useless.

So, this is just the bare-bones effect for now. I'll go back later and add beads and drawings when boredom is threatening.

Oh, wow, the wind is gusting like crazy. Sounds like being next to the ocean on a high-surf day. I can hear all the windchimes in the neighborhood having a party. No rain, yet, but it's supposed to come in.

Whoa, the sound is constant now. I think the windchimes got blown away, can't hear them anymore.

So, did you have a good New Year's Eve? At midnight we toasted each other, downed some champagne, then I did what I always do and opened the door and went outside so I could breathe in the brand-new air of the new year.

Then we all went out and shot off our poppers and watched the people on the next block do their illegal fireworks up into the sky, and listened to the idiots more distant from us shoot off their GUNS.

I can just hear some red-neck, "Damn, forgot to get me some poppers! Hey, BrendaSue, go on an' fetch me my twelve-shooter--I wanna make me some noise, too!"

This gun-fun was followed very quickly by lots and lots of sirens. Guess the police had a busy night.

Uh-oh. Something really BIG just went over, down the street. This wind happens every year, and every year someone ends up with a tree in their house. Our neighborhood has really big, really old trees, and every year I hope OURS isn't the house that ends up with a tree through the roof.

These gales can be really exciting-- guess it's all the positive ions blowing around. But it can be kinda scary, too.

Probably I should get this posted. Our lights keep flickering, and probably I should turn off the computer and stay away from electrical things. The wires outside are bouncing up and down and back and forth. Think I'll go out and cozy up on the porch with a book and some hot Chai and watch the weather.

2005-12-27T20:46:00.000-08:00

Did you have a Merry Christmas? We did, and my little grandson came over. After we ate, we opened presents. I'd bought everyone Silly String. Yes! Even for him! His daddy saw me shaking a can of it, and he kept saying, "Mom. Don't. You don't know what you're doing. [Wanna bet I didn't?] Mom. I'm serious. You'll be so sorry."

Then I started shooting.

And Rylan, my grandbaby, just about popped his eyes out and started screaming with laughter. Just like I'd hoped. Of course he had to shoot, too, so I gave him the can and then we all started shooting each other.

What a mess. It's okay, though, because it dries immediately, but I have the feeling we'll be finding Silly String in all kinds of hidden places until Easter, just in time to replace it with Easter grass, which we'll find until Christmas.

The night before, I rushed home from work (yeah, sucks don't it? I worked Christmas Eve. Oh, well.) and grabbed up the daughters and we went to Midnight Mass. But, in order to know we'd have a seat, we had to get there mucho early. Which means we got to listen to the choir do their Christmas Carols.

Pop quiz: How many 80-year-old sopranos can sing that "A" below high-C?
Answer : Zero.

However, I'd like to say that, even though I worked Christmas Eve, my hands were lovely and warm.

I made these handwarmers especially for work. I spend all day in a refrigerated (it feels like it, anyway) room full of computer terminals, so it has to stay pretty chilly. We all wear sweaters and jackets inside, even during the summer (100+ degrees), but a person can only pile on so much. And the hands still get cold, and when you're doing 10-key and encoding on the keyboard for hours and hours, you need nimble nubbins. Oh, I adore alliteration!

Here is Daughter #2 modeling the full-length version. I made two thumbholes. When you wear it full-length, the second thumbhole is just a slit along the wrist.

Then--

we have Daughter #1 modeling the folded-over version, for when you don't need the warmth up the arm. These babies (the warmers, not the girls) work just as well for driving the car (no slippery steering wheel), walking the dog, and hey, if you smoke? No holes in the fingers (unless you're really stupid or drunk, and hold the cigarette too long, but if that's the case, you deserve what you get).

The girls are doing the modeling because: a)they have nicer hands than me, and 2) I couldn't run the computer and keep my hands in the scanner at the same time. My scanner sits in its own compartment, and my body just isn't long enough to do both, together.

Oh, and if you're a guy reading this? No, I did NOT keep changing colors-- it comes that way when you buy it. Swear to god, there were a couple of you at work who honestly thought I actually kept starting new colors. Geesh.

Cherchez la Should

2005-12-11T12:20:00.000-08:00

This is what I've been doing when I should have been doing other things. It's a skill I've been honing to perfection since I was 3 years old, the first time I remember doing something else than what I should have been doing. (I remember because I got in a lot of trouble. Something else I've honed to perfection.) I SHOULD have been working on other things, finishing other things, creating new other things, cleaning my house. Christmas shopping (something I dislike so much I've PAID other people to go out and do for me). But, no. I saw this online and had to try it. Daughter #1 is into all things Manga and Anime, so I figured she'd like it.

But, it's been a few years since I've seriously knitted anything, which means all my beaucoup types and sizes of needles and paraphernalia are still in storage in a box or drawer. When we moved to this place 3 years ago, all that stuff got left "for later," which means, of course, that I can't find it anymore. So I had to go out and get new needles. And found out THERE ARE NO YARN STORES IN THIS TOWN ANYMORE! Craft stores, yes, but I can't find US #7, 16" circular needles anywhere. 5's, 6's, 8's and up, but not 7's. 29", absolutely, but not 16". Which meant using a set of double-pointed ones. Which is why you see the pieces of cork on the ends of the needles. I forgot about point protectors, so had to improvise. And they worked, so no complaining allowed. Also, don't you love the stitch markers? So pretty! Got the idea from Glampyre Knits. Those markers were something else I did when I SHOULD have been doing something else. I made a whole slew of 'em. Too many colors caused brain overload, I guess. Had to try them all out.

And here's the Daughter, who didn't want to pose for a pic, but who I guilted into doing it, anyway. Looks very Manga, doesn't she? She didn't want the earflaps on the hat, just a pull-on type, so I didn't have to put the flaps on. Note the nice roundness of her head, a head created to wear hats.

The background you see isn't of my house. It's my sons' apartment, and full of light, as opposed to my house, which, despite it's many windows, is not full of light. Their place is also cleaner than mine. (See? I told you I SHOULD have been doing other things. But we creative folk always have something else on the burner.)

And here's Moi. I wanted to see what I'd look like in a pic with this hat. Note the unnatural pointiness of the head. A head definitely NOT created to wear hats. My forehead slopes, too. Sigh.

November at My House

2005-11-25T23:42:00.000-08:00

This is Daughter #2 standing in our front yard. She's wearing a very large, hooded cloak that a friend of hers made, but badly. So, I had to take it apart, cut back the HUGE shoulders that had been built into the cloak, and re-put the hood on, RIGHT-SIDE UP. Her friend had put it on upside-down. The fabric was 3 layers thick, for warmth, and lined in purple. And she paid for the materials, but not the labor, which was a good thing, because her friend really didn't do a very nice job. I mean, this young lady sews all the time, and she couldn't tell she put the hood on upside down? C'mon! Anyway, doesn't Daughter look so nice and witchy? In front of our witchy-type cottage? The sky was actually much cloudier and grey, perfect weather as far as I'm concerned. Daughter #1 took the pics.Daughter #2 doesn't really have a deep-grey line going up the middle of her-- that's a little crabapple tree she's hiding behind to make Grandson laugh.

This is my grandbaby standing by the falling-over fence in our front yard. He's 4, and we measured him against me yesterday when he came over for Thanksgiving. The top of his head comes to the bottom of my boobs, and I'm 5'4". And, no, it's not because my breasts sag to my belly. They're actually very perky D's. I'm kinda proud of 'em. And proud of my very tall grandson.

Speaking of Thanksgiving, I hope you all had a good one. We did. I made 6 pumpkin pies Tuesday night, and 3 apple pies Wednesday night, and got our 21.56-pound turkey in the oven at 7:05 Thanksgiving a.m., sharpish. I got up at 6:30, so got its butt all nice and stuffed in time to get some more sleep before starting the serious cooking.

What did y'all have on your tables? We had what my Son #1 calls our "generic holiday feast"-- large meat-thingy, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, broccoli, corn, cranberry sauce (only at Thanksgiving, though), and stuffing (also only at Thanksgiving, unless we have a turkey as a large meat-thingy at another holiday meal). Dessert. Meaning pies. Oh, yeah, and giblet gravy.

Sent the sons and grandson home with turkey and mashed potatoes and pie. Son #2 wanted the mashed potatoes. They were real, not boxed. All nice and lumpy like we like em.

Oh, boy! Just had some excitement!

We have a security door on our screened porch, and it just got pulled open and a flashlight shone through the lace on our front door. Thought it was one of the Daughters come back for something (they'd just left about 20 minutes earlier with a friend come down from Oregon for a visit), but my big dog was barking.

IT WAS A COP! ON MY PORCH! SHINING HIS FLASHLIGHT ON MY LIT-UP FRONT DOOR! ON MY PORCH!!!

Forgive me. I should have said, "POLICE OFFICER!"

I called off the dog, told her to stay (more excitement-- she stayed! So now our police department thinks we have a well-trained, obedient dog!), and said, "Is it my Daughters? Are my Daughters all right? Where are they???"

Yes, my Daughters were fine (how did he know? I think he was just telling me that to keep me calm so he could ask me ABOUT THE MAN WHO JUST JUMPED OVER MY NEXT-DOOR NEIGHBORS' FENCE!), but did I know anything about a man who was just seen jumping over my next-door neighbors' fence?

It took every ounce of my self-control (which I don't have much of) not to grab him by his bullet-proof vest and yell at him for scaring me so much about the Daughters. He was gracious enough to apologize to me.

But, no, I did NOT know about a man jumping over the next-door neighbors' fence (not the penis-thumping one; these ones are on my other side).

Keep in mind, this was at night. Almost late. (In California, late isn't until after the news at 10 is over.)

And how come an Australian can be an officer of the law in California? But he was way nicer than our usual ones. Very polite. I guess he hasn't lived here long enough to know how he's supposed to sound yet. Maybe he's an Exchange Officer. Or maybe I made him nervous and he didn't want to set me off.

I followed him out to the sidewalk, and there stood the neighbors, who were very, very skittish, and looking around a lot, and who talked reallyreally fast, even faster than Californians usually talk (which is only reallyfast). But I think that was just because they were scared.

We established amongst ourselves that no one jumped over MY fence, and that our dogs only bark at people, not at cats or each other (we were lying through our chattering teeth about that last one), and that we'd keep our eyeballs peeled and let each other know if we saw anything, from now on. (I don't know about them, but there's no way in hell I'm heading over to their place if I hear anything-- we didn't exchange phone numbers because this is California and we're all snobs, or at least very cautious, about who we hand out our numbers to-- I'll just call the Australian police officer. Probably they were thinking the same thing about me.)

I guess something good came of it-- after living in this cottage 3 years, I finally know the neighbor's names. And what they look like close up.

So, hope you all had a great Thanksgiving and Black Friday! I know I did!

Fun Fur

2005-10-30T16:37:00.000-08:00

This fun fur is not fun. I posted about it back in September, because I was so excited about having found it at Target. Couldn't wait to get started on this yummy stuff.

Knew I'd need larger needles. 10's were too small. So, got some 15's. That's what you're looking at right now.

One strand is too thin. Once this stuff is cast on, where in heck (I'm trying to clean up my language) are you supposed to insert the needle? The little fuzzy stuff coming off the very, very thin thread gets in the way! And it knots up.

Ok. So decided to just use the two balls together. Better. But this stuff still feels invisible! Maybe it's just my hands. I've abused them too much, always creating something with them my whole life long, so the skin is probably thicker than less-manual people's. I really can't feel the yarn! Ghost yarn. Like knitting fog.

But it's soft, soft, soft. Don't know how warm it'll be. It's acrylic, though, and that usually is real warm, even too much.

And I've decided that the next time I try to knit with this stuff, I'm using a regular yarn along with. Won't be as soft, but at least I'll be able to feel what I'm working with. And there'll be a lot less swearing, too, I think. Well, okay, maybe.

Baggies

2005-10-27T19:04:00.000-07:00

What's up with Hello? I haven't been able to put anything up for over a week, so I had to figure out how to do it with Blogger. And the security settings were too high, and it WASN'T as easy as 1-2-3, like other people say it is. And I think there's some sort of something buried deep into this NEW computer; spyware, and something that keeps turning my little "where I am" bar on the top of the page-- it goes all grey and then you can't do anything. Sh*t. We just renewed our Norton Antivirus/Spam/whatever, and it hasn't done a lick of good. I'm about ready to start throwing things. You don't spend $1,000 for crap.

So, anyway, here's a pic of the little amulet bag I made. Bead crochet, lahlahlah, had to start it over again 3 times, because I kept putting the beads on backwards. I finally resorted to charting the bead placement, and then doing it all IN REVERSE. Starting at the bottom, working to the top. It was easy once I figured it out.

It's not sewn together yet, and I still have to macram矇 the strap, with beads. But I wanted to see how this would look online. So now I'm seeing it.

Also, can't decide if it should be amulet, or talisman. Having ideas. Gotta go.

Cat Beads

2005-10-09T12:47:00.000-07:00

See my itty bitty kitties? Too bad they kept rolling around on the scanner glass. And you can't see the green in the jade-ish ones.

But-- life goes on. And I can't stop making these things, they're ruining my sleep. And I'm working on some other stuff. I hope modelling clay is good for my hands-- they need all the help they can get! My skin is SO dried-out from washing my hands all the time, or even just rinsing them off. Udder cream works well, get it at the pet supermarket. Not kidding, paint, dough, papier mach矇, fabric, metal, wood-- totally sucks all the moisture out of my hands. But who cares? I must not, because I don't try very hard to have smooth, young-looking skin.

Anyway, these little guys are sort of first drafts, but already people are asking for them. I have lots and lots and lots and lots of other ideas. Of course.

Another thing-- I'm getting one of those kneeler-type ergonomic chairs. I stand a lot, on purpose because I sit ALL DAY at work, so I need to get the veins pumping, but it kills my back. Okay-- drafting table and ergo-chair. On my list.

Have to say, though, I reallyreally am a "process" person. I like the doing of things, watching them evolve, getting more and more ideas. I finish projects, yes, but not until after I try some other stuff. The unfinished stuff is gestating. And it's NOT forgotten.

My kids decided yesterday that I won't die until I've finished ALL the things I've started, so I must be planning on never dying.

Hmmm, makes me think of Dorian Grey. Whoa-- I just got another idea!...

Feliz Cumplea簽os

2005-10-03T12:29:00.000-07:00

Happy Birthday, Daughter #2!

Bead up

2005-10-01T12:29:00.000-07:00

Wow, an experiment gone well! The holes even go all the way through, no collapsing. Whew.

Yeah, I'm still here. Just been trying some stuff out. Techniques, ideas, turning mess-ups around.

I feel like Plastic Girl (not "Plastique"), limbs and brain stretching out into the cosmos somewhere. (One person I told this to said, "You mean like a cancer cell?", but she's just jealous.) As I'm doing one thing, other things to do with the materials in hand pop into my brain, and off I go on another experiment.

These beads happened because I was prowling around, looking for something completely different for something else, and I saw this stuff, and said, "Yes, pretty, but it's not having anything happen to it-- hey, let's try something!" and so I did.

And while I was trying to make my beads, they came out all screwy, and I kept trying to fix the screwiness, and finally got all mad and just squooshed them all up. And then saw the result and said, "Pretty!" Then, "Hmm, I wonder..." and 45 minutes later had these! Serendipity.

And one of the best parts is, they still have their holes! Oh, happy day!

Little things mean a lot.

Autumnal Equinox

2005-09-22T18:12:00.000-07:00

Merry Equinox, folks! And Happy Libra! (Don't forget to balance your eggs-- it works for Fall, too, not just Spring. "Equinox," both.)

Katrina

2005-09-02T19:56:00.000-07:00

You wanna hear firsthand from a person who's there? Check out the Mayor of New Orleans' radio interview...

And (this is sad, forgive me, but he removed himself from our lives back around '90) I remembered today that my brother was, last we knew, living in Metairie, a town just outside New Orleans. If he's alive, and if he's still living there, I wonder if he's ok?

Tastes Like Chicken--mm-mm good!

2005-09-01T18:03:00.000-07:00

Aaaaack! Looky what I got! Guess what I'm gonna be doing for a while?

I HAD to get these-- in the dollar bins at Target! Not a lot of yarn on them (65, 90 yards) but for a buck? C'mon! There's plenty for what I have in mind, and I'll probably go back and get lots and lots more.

That orange furry stuff is phenomenally soft-- probably will be a bitch to knit up, though. Still, we're going for EFFECT, here. And crocheting won't be too different, I imagine.

But I can't believe these were only $1! This stuff is expensive at the yarn places. Especially for me, since I'm an acrylic girl. Buy the huge, no-dye-lot skeins and use them for everything, even if it's ugly. Ya know what I mean?

There were different sizes of bamboo knitting needles, too, but I passed on those. For some reason, my metal ones develop a bend as I use them, and I think bamboo ones would quickly become semi-circular after a while.

This yarn was all I could think about at work today. I have about 1407 ideas so far. 3 are definite. I'm pretty sure the people who work with me were wondering WTF was going on in my head. I mean more than they usually do. (M, sorry, no, I didn't bring my helmet. I was too busy thinking up ideas. You understand.) I'm planning on laying low tomorrow, to give everyone a chance to forget, know what I mean? (Here's a hint on how bad I got-- I couldn't remember how to log on to my computer at work, and I've been doing it 10 times a day for 5 years. I had to ASK someone. Sad? I even scared ME.)

Okay, time to get started.

One more...

2005-08-31T17:22:00.000-07:00

Whoa. How did they know all this?

You Are A Walnut Tree

You are strange and full of contrasts... the oddball of your group.

You are unrelenting and you have unlimited ambition.

Not always liked but always admired, you are more infamous than famous.

You are aggressive and spontaneous, and your reactions are often unexpected.

A jealous and passionate person, you are difficult in romantic relationships.

What is Your Celtic Horoscope?

Okay, um, does anyone want to verify all this stuff? This scares me...

Harry Potter Personality Quiz

2005-08-28T13:40:00.000-07:00

I AM...

Harry Potter Personality Quiz by Pirate Monkeys Inc.

Please don't hate me. Especially if you've read "The Half-Blood Prince."

Actually, this is based on the Meiers-Briggs personality tests, and I've always been either an INTJ, ENTJ, INFJ, or ENFJ, depending on what's going on in my life whenever I've had to take the tests. So, this one came as no surprise.

What WAS a surprise what that it matches Snape.

And that wasn't really too much of a surprise since I've always liked Snape's character the best. (Again, please don't hate me. Oh, all right, go ahead if you want.)

When Alan Rickman got the role of Snape for the movies, I was ecstatic! Snape=sexy, Rickman=sexy. How much better could it get? Oh, wait, I know-- he could be in a whole lot more scenes!

So, I guess this little test gave me a pretty good shot of feelin' good. Except for what Snape does in the "Half-Blood Prince."

You know, though, I took a test a while ago that says I'm "Gryffindor." I really expected to be "Slytherin," but there you are.

Yeah, I know, I just outed myself-- no longer a closet Harry Potter geek. Damn.

Pothouse

2005-08-27T12:09:00.000-07:00

Something I did when I was on a pot kick. I have a couple more, but I never finished the pumpkin house-- couldn't decide on a window treatment, but the roof kicks ass!

This one has a thatched roof, and I've been told it looks "ghetto" because of the plaster falling away and the bricks showing through, but I like it.

I just wish I'd taken a picture before I sealed it. Even though it's not a gloss finish, there's still a shine. Oh, well.

I need to finish the pumpkin one, though, before Halloween.

Also, I need to work on a few more, for selling. I tend to give my stuff away before I can sell it; not good for someone who reallyreallyreally wants to be self-employed.

Oh, yeah, I just remembered I have a teeny little Valentine one somewhere-- think I'll finish that one, too. And all the rest of the stuff I have going. I'm tellin' ya, I have to have too many things going at once, because I get bored after a couple of hours on one thing. And I start going blind, too, and the colors get all wonky. I work small, usually, and after a while all the colors start looking the same, no matter what media I'm working. Beads, paint, fabric, metal-- I just keep switching. Papier mach矇. Wood. Clay. Whatever.

I want to try welding, soon, as soon as I get all the weeds out of the backyard. No use learning if I end up setting the neighborhood on fire. And I'd just get yelled at. A lot. But it sure would be nice to know I could do it.

Flinging Pheromones

2005-08-25T17:58:00.000-07:00

or, "My Moans are Whorish."

Whoops.

"My Hors are Moning." There.

Except they're not. I have absolutely no idea what's going on; maybe it's something in the air, maybe it's my laundry detergent, maybe it's my new deodorant stick, but the men have been in my face this week. And except for one person, these are men I didn't even know knew my name! They're just there, like furniture, ya know? But this week it feels like the furniture got moved around, because I keep tripping over these people.

Can you say "eye contact?" Yes, you can! Can you say, "Make sure to get right in my face so I know you're there?" I know you can say that, too.

I never pay much attention to these guys. Like I said, furniture. They go with the territory, and when you've seen it often enough, you stop SEEING it, ya know?

And, oh, yeah-- I don't give out my phone number unless you're gay or I've known you at least 5 years and/or we've had no less than 47 conversations, okay? AND, I have to at least find you somewhat interesting. And I have to trust that you aren't asking for my phone number because you have any interest in me other than how to spell words or want your Tarot done. Otherwise, it's no go. Forget it. Stop trying to give me yours, too. And as for you young ones? Get over yourselves. Go bother your mothers.

So what's up with all the hair-tweaking and winks and flirting? I SOOOO don't flirt. Don't know how, not interested in learning, thank you very much.

I'm wondering how long this will last. Probably not much longer. I'm sure the wind will change and someone else's pheromones will come wafting under their noses.

In the meantime, maybe I should buy a lottery ticket?

Spirit Doll

2005-08-22T18:41:00.000-07:00

Damn, the colors just are so not there! I took this with our borrowed digital, and the green background is reflecting in the black satin. And you can't see the patterning in the satin.

And you can't see the shiny beads sewn hither and yon all over the cute little stuffed body! And she looks like a hunchback. (Whoops, is that PI? Sorry if it's PI. Okay-- no, I'm not, but you already knew that, didn't you?)

This is just so much prettier in real life-- shiny fabric, iridescent beads, and sparkly gold thread. Not to mention the face, which is one of the Faces in a previous post.

And for M and Twyla-- THIS is what the "Cheesecake" post, with my Nekkid Peoples, was about! (Shame on you, M!)

Speaking of PI (a previous paragraph, I'm digressing, here), there's a rumor that a guy at work is thinking of going to the Philippines to get a wife. Should I kill him now, or should I ask him if it's true? (I swear I'll be somewhat compassionate about it.)

Sore Fingers

2005-08-16T19:30:00.000-07:00

Jeez, my fingers hurt! Feels like I've been playing guitar for a few hours. I wired these this past weekend, and haven't been able to get the photo published until today, but aren't they so pretty?

I love sparkly things. Shiny stuff. Red. Purple. Gold, gold, gold. Green. Deep colors. Bright colors. Solid, mixed, swirled, glittery, screaming colors.

I have so many things I can use these beaded wires with, and while I was experimenting making them, I kept having more and more ideas. They all just sort of kept expanding, one idea leading into another, and why do humans need to sleep, anyway? I mean, really, it's just a waste of time. Too bad we run into doorjambs and trip over things if we don't sleep just a leeetle.

But when I get on a roll, sleeping just isn't part of the equation. I can dutifully set my alarm, get all ready (I MUST have a routine-- I'm one of those people who needs to be told "okay, this means bedtime"), get in bed, yawn, stretch, and BAM!

The brain kicks into high gear. Keep my eyes closed, I'll force myself to sleep. No, keep them open to tire them out. Doesn't matter, all I can see are the bejillions of ideas I was having when I got under the covers.

Turn over, find a cool spot, close the eyes, yell at the dog to "stop walking around, damn it," turn over again--

Screw it. I can sleep tomorrow night. Meantime, out come all the things I need to start working on MORE IDEAS. Forget the sore fingers, forget the stiff neck and back, don't even THINK about having to be at work in, oh, 5 hours, and I haven't slept yet. Just get the ideas working. Just do enough to feel the "ahhh". Just do enough to help the brain be at peace. Just enough to get the brain to leave me alone. That shouldn't take too long, right?

Right?

2005-08-07T14:09:00.000-07:00

This is a little taste of what we do at our house. We're all for increasing our gross motor skills and eye-hand coordination, plus learning to count reallyreally fast. We just have to be careful of the eye-glazing that occurs, not to mention the drooling.

And that's only the people watching! I dare any of you who might see someone hitting a paddleball to not stop to watch. It's not possible. You HAVE to stop everything, tell your kids or significant other to "be quiet, too bad, I want to see how long this guy can do this." Or girl.

It's Daughter #1's fault. She bought this little beauty and brought it home, so of course we ALL had to try. So far she's at 134, with her right hand, 27 with her left. I wonder what her right arm will look like in 2 months?

The rest of us aren't doing so well. I think I got to 7. Not sure, I kept losing count.

Oh, that's another thing-- how to keep count? It's too damned fast! D#1 counts on her fingers with her other hand, but I couldn't do it. Found out I've been doing it wrong for 45 years.

I count up to 5, then 5 again, that makes 10, then I start counting up to 5 again, but have to remember I've already done it twice, so that's 10 plus whatever finger I'm on at the moment... Forget it! This sucks! I can't do this! This is just stupid!

Well, D#1 does it this way-- count up to 5, then count DOWN again to 10. Up and down. Fingers out, fingers in. (We better teach this to our youngest family member-- he's 4 and will be starting school this year.) Plus she has a better memory than me, but that doesn't mean anything.

Yes. I'm slow. Example: We call cars with one working headlight "pediddles." It took me until my late 20's to figure out why we never see pediddles in the daytime.

So now you know what we do on Saturday nights. Hey, whyncha come on over, join the fun? If you can stand the cultural enrichment. Mind-numbing, yes, but still a unique learning experience.

Little faces

2005-08-02T22:11:00.000-07:00

Little faces for a few projects I've got going. They look better all lined up, but my scanner is in an armoire, and that makes it hard to see what I'm doing. Besides, I'm lazy.

No, those aren't jug ears, they're for sewing purposes.

The gold ones are gold leaf paint. Expensive, but worth it. I love shiny things. My bling-blings.

Not Croning Yet

2005-07-29T11:41:00.000-07:00

Not sure if this is a good thing, or not.

Oh, I'm sorry... Was that TMI?

Feline Fix-it 2005

2005-07-28T11:37:00.000-07:00

Campaign Poster I was commissioned to do for a county-wide program to spay/neuter all the feral cats in the area. It's working, except people have been bringing in too many cats from surrounding counties, 'cause they can get all their "ferals" fixed for free or low-cost.

This is the first in what may be a series. It's for the Animals At Risk Care Sanctuary, run by my genius landlady (I really love her!). I'm tellin' ya, this woman never gets tired. Never! (Have you seen "The Incredibles?" My landlady looks JUST LIKE the little gal who designs all their costumes, without the accent. And she's that straightforward, too.)

Try to ignore the bright mark between his legs (although, it seems rather appropriate, somehow, no?)-- it's the flash from the camera. It would have been much better to take the pic during the day, but there wouldn't have been enough time. Next time, next time.

18x24, watercolor and ink.

Cheesecake

2005-07-26T11:39:00.000-07:00

My nekkid peoples, after 4 tries of uploading them.

I used the relatively new photo/picture aspect of Blogger, because everyone kept saying, "Have you tried it yet?" "It's so easy, I can't believe how easy it is."

Now I have 4 pictures floating in cyberspace somewhere, 'cause they sure as hell didn't show up here! Guess I'll figure it out eventually. Maybe someday they'll wash up in a post, like a letter in a bottle.

So, hello "Hello."

Damn, I really wanted to be able to wrap some text around the picture to fill in the empty space on the right. Oh, well.

Having my 5-day break from my job and have lots of stuff I want to work on, some of which is in the picture. I'll post these when they're done. They're still in the raw, so to speak.

I also did a campaign poster. It's all matted and framed and waiting for pickup. Took a pic of it, but the digital camera's an older model, uses a floppy, and we don't have an A:-drive on our new computer. So, after I get it downloaded and mailed to ourselves, it'll get posted.

P.S. Yesterday was Daughter #1's birthday! Happy Birthday!

Where's the Freakin' Calgon?!?

2005-07-24T10:54:00.000-07:00

Life* is not happening right now. Yes, it is. No, it can't be.

Affirmation: "I release the need to feel in control. Life happens, and I recognize it as part of my ride through Time. I travel smoothly along the river of Life, knowing that my destination is a place of good things, and I accept responsibility for all the positive, wonderful things that are occurring right now. I am fine."

Ok. I can do that. I can remember that and even believe it. So, what I have to do is get into my raft, and paddle my way along to the landing site. I can do that. I can Zen my way through it. One bite at a time. Even if I don't know where the landing site will be. The Unknowable. The Black Hole of scariness. "Here there be monsters", maybe?

No, no, GOOD THINGS are coming. I just don't know what they are, yet. This is all for the GOOD.

Oh, why did I have to grow up?!?

*Positive euphemism for "shit."

Ooops!

2005-07-16T22:25:00.000-07:00

Well, shit!

(Hurts like hell, too.)

This just didn't scan well. I wish I had a digital camera that doesn't need a floppy, because this new computer doesn't have an A: drive. (But thank you to Son #2 who's lending us his-- we just always need to take the disc to his house because he DOES have an A: drive.)

Not to toot (tout?) my horn too much, but this thing looks so real laying on the table that I can't eat if it's there. Looks like dried-up, curling skin that was torn off someone's face, which is exactly the effect I was going for, but still...