Molly Goatwax

No Plans

Again, the electricity keeps cutting out here on the farm. There is nothing of any importance to report, we'll probably be dismissed early. I don't think hubby and I will be going out this evening, New Year's in Baltimore means stray bullets from guns fired in the air by scofflaws. Every year, someone tells us of a shattered skylight or window. Tommorrow's newspaper will report on the number of people arrested for this, and whether anyone was injured.

Yow, pt. 2

Gosh I'm cranky! And it's not the thought of those nubile elephants pining away for some studly company while Boy Mayor selfishly denies them dates or an allowance that bothers me. Well, yes it does. But not enough to put my nose out of joint...I suppose this is just one of those days when I feel like blowing something up!

Yow

A quick purview of the national news for what's going on in Baltimore yields mostly sports stories, Kwanzaa celebrations, murders and the elephant scandal. The elephant scandal? The Baltimore Zoo says that they cannot afford to keep Dolly and Anna, so they have threatened to ship them off to another city zoo's breeding program unless the citizens cough up a million dollars to be matched by pledges from the business community. While they are not exactly white, these young elephants are chewing up a lot of money and wasting thier genes while Boy Mayor is planning to spend 800K converting 11 blocks of Charles Street back to two-way traffic. I understand these are not earth shaking issues. Public safety, education and health are, though, and these programs are all seriously underfunded here. They are laying teachers off and addicts seeking treatment are turned away for lack of space, to return to supporting thier habits with crime. Leave Charles Street alone, and take my elephants, please.

Back on the Farm

A large flock of geese has landed outside my office window, making a terrific racket. Such magnificient animals...they always make my mouth water, imagining the fat ones stuffed with apples and roasted. Of course I can't go catch one without breaking my arms and losing my job! I don't quite know what I'd do if I did catch one, anyway. Fortunately for my perpetual appetite leftovers from the farmer's party have been sent down from the big house (how feudal!). The watermelon salad is happily absent, I don't have the guts to ask whose idea it was, but there's a fine antipasta dripping with garlic and some nougat cookies. mmmmmm

Finishing up the year

Last night hubby and I went to two "open house" parties. The first was held by my boss, the farmer, in his improved and expanded old farmhouse in what is called steeplechase country. There were nervous little waiters passing around all kinds of exotic tidbits to women whose racks of rocks could choke thier pricey livestock. These things get easier as the years pass, I've learned to hide my shyness and trepidation behind a glued-on grin as I tell people how fabulous they look and comment on the oysters etc. And I've never had watermelon chunks with feta and bacon, have you? No, don't try it, the crab fluff in wantons are tastier...The second party was in a modest Bolton Hill basement with a much more diverse crowd, with equaly groaning boards. A good portion of the guests picked instruments out of baskets and jammed on. For this the smiles and comradarie were genuine. Today I worked off my gluttony hauling some of Mum's old stuff to the thrift store loading dock, which was open for receipted donations. ( buying all one's clothes second hand and redonating the usables for deductions makes them about free. It's greener, too.) Tommorow is another day of excitement in the field of financial services!

More noodling

Now that I've got version 7 of the mother of all imaging software, I've got to figure out where to go with it. Here is the younger daughter with the champion rainbow trout she caught last summer.

Aftermath

Ooooomph...I'm recovering from a 2 day stint in the kitchen, which was preceded by a fall down the stairs Tuesday evening. Wool socks+oak floors=whoops! Oh, and the attendant eating! A list of the victuals and viands would take paragraphs, but there was no waste. All the crumbs were eaten and all the clothes which picked up alien purfumes from hugging must be washed before they drive me nuts. I sprung out of bed this morning to the trashtruck men singing and made our contribution just in time. I even got a pub for our porcelain light-up village at the pharmacy today at 75% off. What next, hot bath or play with new software?

Need Slack, here

This week there is no child care available for the 7 year old, so I have been bringing her to the farm for a couple of disruptive hours each day. Do you have co-workers who do that? Don't you hate it? Well, so do I! There are no good options here. Soon I will take her to a holiday luncheon at the sister company and be reviled there, too.

Stuff it

Stuff. Everywhere, too much of it. Once in a while, some charity will call and helpfully pick up a few boxes of it off my front porch, but that hardly makes a dent. Yesterday I swept up enough cat hair to make a whole new cat. There's a pile of old computer hardware (most of which was obtained free from upgraders) by the front door awaiting safe disposal. There's stuff we have to keep awaiting re-attachment to the stuff it broke off. Stuff I may or may not make art with, stuff collected long ago that's lost meaning, equally old things that may or may not be valuable, stuff I have to keep because it was "gifted". It's relentless, this tide of stuff. Somehow I have to shuffle all the old stuff around to make room for the new stuff arriving this week.

noodling

I was going to elaborate on this image, but learning all the hook-ups, filters, interfacing etc. is wearing me out. Real ink, paint and paper all call me.