Hope you and all your critters have plenty of hidey–holes when the fireworks start (and go on and on and on and…)
Happy Long Weekend
03 Jul 2021 13 Comments
in animals, anxiety, bipolar disorder, hand-made cards, Holidays, hypersensitivity, Mental Illness, PTSD
Floating a Little
31 Mar 2020 6 Comments
in animals, Art, Covid19, Floating a Little, hand-made cards, Quality of Life, relationships, support
• Post Title and Inspiration:
Mary Oliver — Still, what I want in my life is to be willing to be dazzled–To cast aside the weight of facts–And maybe even to float a little above this difficult world.
30 Days of Sandy Sue Altered: 5
29 Jul 2016 2 Comments
in animals, Art, Cats, humor, mixed-media art Tags: blogging challenges, Leonard Nimoy, Shatner
More Great Animals
I’ll be hard at it, painting my bedroom on Saturday, so will post #5 a few hours early.
∴
∴
∴
∴
∴
∴
30 Days of Sandy Sue Altered: 3
28 Jul 2016 8 Comments
in animals, Art, humor, mixed-media art Tags: blogging challenges, dogs
Westward Ho! Day 8
04 Apr 2016 9 Comments
in animals, Art, bipolar disorder, Books, creativity, humor, relationships, Travel Tags: Artfest, Bucket List, forest, John Cleese, Oregon
Port Townsend, WA (8:30 AM) to Roseburg, OR (5:00 PM). 386 miles.
Notables: I’m really sick of The Time Traveler’s Wife audiobook. I know it’s a big bestseller, but I like the movie better (Plot vs Really Dopey Romance).
Tunes: The Best of Jackson Browne.
•
Up at 4:00 to pack and sit with my journal (I do wish I could be one of those people who oversleep once in a while. I might as well wish I was 23 and French). Then, it was one last meal at the Fort’s big dining hall (another delicious breakfast of scrambled eggs with salmon and fresh greens, fresh fruit, toast and good coffee), one more round table of laughs with my new art-buddies from all over the country, and I was back on the road.
John was in top form as we threaded our way through the forests. We pointedly avoided any more ferries or tollways. One bollixed crossing was quite enough. And I love forests even more than the desert, so it was like driving through my personal version of heaven. Even the rest stops offered a bit of forest to explore between dumping car-garbage and visiting the loo (I’m afraid John’s rubbed off on me a bit).
We paused at this lovely stop just north of the Washington/Oregon border. Everything was so green. And it was 73°. Green and warm and foresty. Tiny angels whistled in my ear.
And tonight, another mind-blowing bed and breakfast. Doris and Mike live a little outside of town. As I followed the proper twisty country road, I spied a huge buffalo chewing its cud on some guy’s front lawn. Or pasture. Whatever the green stuff is that swaddles a buffalo. I was too intent on finding Doris and Mike to think anything other than, “Huh. Folks do things a little different out here.”
Doris is what my grandma would have called Just Good Folks; hard-working, generous, no-nonsense. The house is gorgeous, filled with antiques and Doris’ oil paintings (we nattered about art for a while). She showed me to the laundry room and invited me to eat supper with them, their son, and another AirBNB couple. This is not standard B&B fare.
Supper was delicious with lively conversation. I imagine boarding houses must have been like this in the Long Ago; strangers gathered at a table and resting, safe, under the roof of a Good Woman (and her Good Man). It feels very homey here.
And now the smell of fresh laundry dominates my room. Clean undies! I can fall asleep with the window cracked to let in the Very Different scent of the Pacific Northwest; more ozone, more oxygen, more ocean-washed than Flatland air.
The chickens out in their pen are quiet now (um… yes, we ate chicken for supper). I visited them before they tucked their beaks under for the night, because chickens this fat and beautiful deserved to be visited. And I knew Cheryl would love them (you’re welcome).
Now it’s time for me to tuck my beak under my wing. Sweet Dreams and Pleasant Poultry. And may you feel the road rush under your wheels.
•
My Cyber Life
12 Mar 2013 8 Comments
in animals, Art, Books, community, Computers, mixed-media art, money, Nature, Quality of Life, TV and Movies Tags: Ireland, Joss Whedon, nerds, Pinterest, Richard Armitage, Star Trek, Tolkein
These days, what with my Zero Money Initiative in place, I spend most of my time at home on my computer. And I’m finding a whole new life there. It’s Pinterest, really, that’s sucked me into this Ether World. I’ve found dozens of Pinners who share my interests. And since my taste wanders all over the place, there’s a lot to keep me enthralled.
There are the nerdy fan-folk—the Tolkein aficionados, the Trekkers, the Joss Whedonites. I’m in Nerd Heaven, wandering through all the rare photos, video clips, jokes and articles about my TV shows and movies. There are the science puns, and inside jokes, and cross-over weirdness that combines Star trek with Firefly and Sherlock Holmes. My geekiness runs rampant.
Then there are the serious armies of movie star fans. Any male actor, living or dead, generates a plethora of appreciation (Female stars get plenty of attention, too, just not so many shirtless photos or comments about fainting). Here, I have found my obsessive/compulsive, delusional tribe—women all over the globe tipping the scale from fan to stalker. I breathe a little easier knowing I’m far from the craziest end of the spectrum here. I’m actually rather refined and discriminating in my male appreciation. Tasteful, even. Ahem.
I can explore my love of Ireland and dream about going there by connecting with Pinners who are either from Ireland or who have shared their vacation photos. I can listen to the music, meet infamous sons and daughters of the Eire, and learn the country’s history. All the beautiful sites, the people, the festivals—they let me taste of the Emerald Isle while I scheme about how to get there.
Then, there are all the boards devoted to nature—weird and gorgeous wild animals; amazing forests, rock formations, fauna and flora. There are Pinners gathering information on preservation, animal abuse, conservation, and every aspect of green living. I’m constantly amazed, shocked, inspired and delighted by all these lovers of the world. I can indulge in my love of elephants and skunks. And there’s no end to the folks who love cats—great and small.
My cyber and material worlds are starting to mix, now. I’m spending more time at the library searching for things I saw on Pinterest—books on visiting Ireland and England, movies like “War Horse” that I thought I’d never watch (but found out Tom Hiddleston/Loki and Benedict Cumberbatch/Sherlock Holmes are in it). I picked up the first season of “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” to watch some early Joss Whedon, and checked out a great mystery novel by Tana French on a Pinner’s recommendation.
I’ve heard Pinterest described as a horder’s dream come true. A person can collect all their favorite stuff without taking up any space (or creating those scary towers of books, papers and clutter every proper psycho-killer’s home requires). But, for me it’s gone beyond that. Yes, I like to create my boards with a certain amount of flair and artistry, but I look forward to learning something new, digging deeper into a topic, sharing a funny video that I hope will make others cry and lose urine like I did. It’s a new way of interacting, a new kind of community-making.
And it makes me happy. That’s something to stick a pin in and hang on the wall.
Shuffling Through Marshalltown
17 Mar 2012 7 Comments
in animals, community, exercise, mixed-media art, Quality of Life Tags: home, spring, surgery
I just got back from my afternoon walk—a slow-motion shuffle around three square blocks. All the better to see the lilac bushes greening and crocus heads swelling. Iris blades like emerald knives slice through the winter brown. A warm, moist breeze calls Spring to come forward.
This is my fourth walk since coming home from the hospital yesterday. Each time I go a little farther, see something a little different. At 1:30 in the morning, stars talk out loud and warm, velvet air slides over skin. At 8:30 the Saturday traffic takes over, rushing to compete with the trains wailing in the yard.
Sometimes I’m the only human being on the street. Sometimes I’m one of many. The homeless shelter and emergency food bank are just up the street, so people in need pass by often—families, singles, elderly. People who roll their entire lives with them in wheeled garbage bins. People with nothing. People who fight and swear at each other. People who scold and natter at themselves.
Teenagers wander by in groups leaving their detritus of gum wrappers and Red Bull cans. The library is next door, and the Kwik Star down the street, so I imagine they gravitate between the two. But, what do I know about teenagers?
And the dogs are always out. A plethora of Chihuahuas in all shapes and sizes. They’re like a box of left-over Valentine’s Day chocolates—nuggets, and cherry centers, and dark mousse—all excited, all yipping in their tiny rodent voices. There’s a black and white Bull Terrier who sits on the corner all day long, staring at the flower shop. And a Pit Bull with pink eyes who seems bored out of her mind. A trio of Corgis race up and down their fenced yard like jousters challenging the entire neighborhood to a duel. Behind the dog noise, feral cats slink along the alleys, quietly going about their feline business. They’re happy to let the dogs grab all the attention—anonymity is more their game.
If I could bend over, I’d start picking up the refuse winter leaves behind, but I have to leave that for now. It’s enough to be outside, in the unseasonably warm, feeling the stretch of my stride in my sore belly, walking my way back to whole.