Molly Goatwax

overheard

When I walk in back of the grocery store, where they take deliveries or cigarette breaks on Adorondack chairs by the open bay, I can always smell what is cooking for the day's special. When I went by this morning I heard one worker call out to another; "4 Cokes, 4 Diet Cokes and one Sprite!". I hoped they weren't packing lunch for a sequestered jury. It would be hopelessly deadlocked.

The conundrum

Every time I marvel at how long it's been since I've had a cigarette, I want one.

An uphill battle

Photo courtesy monumentalcity.net

Four miles and a killer staircase or two, every day. The first time I took this staircase, last April, I had to sit down for a bit at the top. Now I can stagger and lurch along my path right away. Someday I'll be able to zip up my jeans again. Otherwise, I'll need to get a couple of different pairs before it gets cold.

the intersection

The postcard announcement for my Open Studio event has been e-designed and e-ordered. It was hair-pullingly frustrating. I further frustrate and bore myself by entering all the names and addresses from The Book of Mom into The Database of Mom. This way, when the postcards arrive next week, I can push a button or two and have pre-licked labels roll out of the printer. Forgive me for not addressing them by hand, but I should have started this years ago. It eases the long term, low level stress factors. If you've moved since the last batch of Valentines, drop me a line.

glorb

Tofutti...cherry peppers with cheese and ham in brine...shrimp in saffron risotto...while I still abstain from tobacco, these fruitless attempts to fill the big void with tasty snacks is taking its toll. The truth is, there is no patching the great vacuum with food, smoke, beer or anthing else. Still I graze. Gorgonzola, the mild blue cheese...yum. Some kind of poppy seed covered shortbread marked with a doughy "X". Mangos and nectarines, avocados and late tomatoes beckon...I have been waking in the wee hours unable to fall back asleep. I twitch, itch, sweat and fret. I grapple with self esteem issues and worry about all my fallow bricks in this failing market. I wonder about pieces of paper known to be lost years ago. Guilt haunts my sleep just as surely as if it were a vulture hanging over the bedstead. Small nagging chores and unissued apologies keep me from relaxing. Maybe I'm eating too much. Maybe I need chew toys.

Impasse

Feeling a little glum, it's muggy out and I don't know enough about my imaging software to successfully design postcard announcements for my open studio event. Narf. The ten year old heard me cursing. I'll probably spend extra just to e-mail the jpeg for the front and the text info for the back so someone who knows what they are doing will get the elements in place. I'll call Miss Janet for advice. She's done this before. That and I can't find any red ink opaque enough to block print onto black shirts. Miss Joolie? Got any ideas? At least I can shrink this here lightbulb design to fit the small block of wood I have, so I can transfer it and then carve it out for a stamp....

then I will put it all over a shirt to wear when I need a big idea....

nose on overtime

I came in from my walk with a sprig of lavender in one hand and a black walnut in the other. I handed them to a bemused-looking Hubby and told him they smelled very similar to me. "The black walnut smells more peppery.", he said. I offered that they both had a woodsy, resin and turpentine aroma, once you get past the lavender reminding you of soap. The world was full of mulchy, moldy odors today. I further offer, that if we had our computers equipped with smellovision, we could debate the issue further. We could also compare the scents of hot fudge or caramel to cake baking or how the chlorine of swimming pools and coconut oil make us thirsy for iced tea. But the scents would probably clog up the equipment and not smell as keen as any originals anyway. I did choke my way through John Waters' Polyester with Odorama when it came out and it remains my favorite of his films, ever. Even with the scratch n sniff flatulence smelling like the much stronger spot of gasoline next to it. Harumphhh....I need to find a little cotton bag like the ones that came filled with bubblegum nuggets so that I can put some fresh lavender in my sock drawer. Perhaps, like cedar, it repells moths.

love, with flowers

Today Hubby and I celebrate our 15th wedding anniversary whilst talking like pirates. No, we aren't really talking like pirates. We aren't giving each other engraved crystal trophy cups, either. I think we have enough of everything. Um...except cheesecake. We'll have some of that, after a nice dinner on the water's edge.

Improvements

I spent most of the day noodling around the small house. I primed some woodwork in the orange room, re-mortared some loose bricks back into the front steps and hung curtains in the kitchen and dining room. Even the cheapest curtains improve an alley view. Whatever the house's disposition, it needs some work and it's frugal to do it myself. As I was slopping some stain blocker around the hundred and twenty year old windows I remembered my colleague Mike's adage; "Nothing cleans like paint!"

In the light of day

A chilly morning! Time to switch cotton for cashmere and figure out what we did to the-furnace-that-would-not-shut-off last spring to make it stop cooking us. Also, soon, the little house in which I paint will need utilities. A young woman, also an artist, came 'round to see if the spare room there was suitable for habitation. After her wordless assessment of my art it dawned on me that very few of us escape being made ridiculous by age in the eyes of the young. Well. Time to clear away the excess and paint the big orange room "eggshell".