I'm finally recovered from the holiday blitz. All the decorations are put away and the Christmas sweaters are back in their space bag. The giant bag of after-Christmas-sale-at-Target wrapping paper and bags is shoved under the bed in the guest room and the last of the Chex mix is gone. Now it's time for Mardi Gras.
The Taller Half got in from Prague last weekend and things are just about back to normal - whatever that is around here. Since Thanksgiving, we have had what seems like never-ending rain and it's coming down again tonight. The back yard hasn't completely dried out for the last 6 weeks and with this current downpour it will probably be 6 more weeks. Actually, there was a dry spell when the Arctic Blast came to the beach and we had 13 consecutive nights of temps below 25. In our yard they were mostly below 20. The birdbath and the whole sorry morass froze solid. The cold zapped all my outdoor plants too. Everything is brown now - the gingers, Mexican petunias, ferns, bird-of-paradise, hibiscus and a schefflera that rooted through the bottom of the pot 6 years ago and has survived previous winters with no problem. Not now, buddy.
The Nervous Little Red Dog hasn't been happy about going out to the backyard to "be a good girl" lately. She can roll on smelly dead things in the grass and eat road-kill frogs, but God forbid she gets her toes wet or muddy. Right now she's on the floor next to my desk washing her feet and shooting me long suffering looks. I hate to break it to you, Toots, but you'll have to go out one more time before bed. The hell of it is, though, I have to go too or she won't even leave the cover of the carport. She's not my dog, I'm her pet human like Mr. Peabody and his pet boy Sherman.
In a burst of creative energy I got a dozen new eyeglasses chains made for the Bead-D-Eyes shop, took and edited the photos and got them listed. I made a stab at sorting the jewelry making pieces and parts last night and got a little bit accomplished. If I were a resolution-making sort of girl, I would vow to get my work area organized and be the model of creative efficiency in 2010. We all know that's a pipe dream.
Pipe dream... that makes me think of my favorite 1970s head shop on High Street - I am not making that up - and an Atlanta Rhythm Section album. Third Annual Pipe Dream was my favorite record for a long time back in the day. Amazon has a music sampler of the whole thing and listening to it while I type is really triggering the memories. I wish I had Mr. Peabody's WABAC Machine - I'd go to some of the ARS concerts at the Coliseum. I still remember them - or parts of them at least.
Music from the 70s and cartoons from the 60s --- crap I'm old. But still cool.
The Taller Half got in from Prague last weekend and things are just about back to normal - whatever that is around here. Since Thanksgiving, we have had what seems like never-ending rain and it's coming down again tonight. The back yard hasn't completely dried out for the last 6 weeks and with this current downpour it will probably be 6 more weeks. Actually, there was a dry spell when the Arctic Blast came to the beach and we had 13 consecutive nights of temps below 25. In our yard they were mostly below 20. The birdbath and the whole sorry morass froze solid. The cold zapped all my outdoor plants too. Everything is brown now - the gingers, Mexican petunias, ferns, bird-of-paradise, hibiscus and a schefflera that rooted through the bottom of the pot 6 years ago and has survived previous winters with no problem. Not now, buddy.
The Nervous Little Red Dog hasn't been happy about going out to the backyard to "be a good girl" lately. She can roll on smelly dead things in the grass and eat road-kill frogs, but God forbid she gets her toes wet or muddy. Right now she's on the floor next to my desk washing her feet and shooting me long suffering looks. I hate to break it to you, Toots, but you'll have to go out one more time before bed. The hell of it is, though, I have to go too or she won't even leave the cover of the carport. She's not my dog, I'm her pet human like Mr. Peabody and his pet boy Sherman.
Pipe dream... that makes me think of my favorite 1970s head shop on High Street - I am not making that up - and an Atlanta Rhythm Section album. Third Annual Pipe Dream was my favorite record for a long time back in the day. Amazon has a music sampler of the whole thing and listening to it while I type is really triggering the memories. I wish I had Mr. Peabody's WABAC Machine - I'd go to some of the ARS concerts at the Coliseum. I still remember them - or parts of them at least.
Music from the 70s and cartoons from the 60s --- crap I'm old. But still cool.
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