Molly Goatwax

Grounded, part 2

I sat all day waiting for the delivery of the family phones. Our contract with one mobile provider expired and Hubby took the opportunity to replace them with the latest gadgets free for switching companies. They were finally delivered at the end of the day. Mine is pink and takes pictures, still and moving. I imagine it will play music, (if I'm into that sort of thing) help me when I'm lost, give me headlines and e-mails and amuse me with games, besides the usual calculator/calendar/stopwatch stuff. I don't think I will blog with it because all these functions are already boggling my luddite imagination. The tot's is even fancier. How did that happen?

Big Wow

Last night I saw this T.V. show based in Baltimore called The Wire for the first time. Yes, It was the series finale. Let's not get into discussing why I've never seen it. Visually, it was stunning. Every scene looked familiar, the corners, the streets, the Judges' chambers and the rest of the courthouse appeared preserved in amber* and lifted from the decorative vernacular peculiar to these parts....did they include shredding cabbage rose wallpaper in a water damaged closet? Do I regret having missed out? No. There was too much cussing and other graphic violence. It took my breath away. But then again, I have lost my breath and a few times my lunch just sitting at the bus stop in this town. I will give it this: it was written and produced by people who know the scene, and you have to be from Baltimore to watch it and mutter under your breath; "True Dat.".

*The courthouse really is this beautiful and intact. We've also some of the oldest working pubs in th e country.

Grounded

Hubby has the convertible and the van I've been driving won't start in the wet. Today's problem, getting the tot first to a toy store and then to a birthday party were easy enough. They were both within walking distance, as are almost everything else we need to sustain ourselves, but this may get complicated soon.

Call for Parts, again

This image was taken today on Schenley Road.

I have started the collection of broken plates. As you can see from the photo, mine is not a new idea, but a direction that beckons. This mural of shards has been cemented up to a porch apron near my house. I've always been glue happy. Now I want to play with cement, concrete, tiles and broken plates. I talked Sparkey out of a few plates this afternoon and Jason promised some as soon as he unpacks his crates. The ceramics department at the art school? I've already begged the chair for access to their "bone pile". He was my teacher once'st. So off I spin into another medium. Woooo Hoooo!

Call for parts

Even though I have a box of nice frames I am fitting with woodcuts on decorative paper, I sometimes wonder where I want to go with my art. The wheels spin. I look for a sign. Then! Today! I am called apon to lead a mosiac project! With eight year olds! This is something I've wanted to do for....like, forever. So I hop into the car with various containers and before the sun set, I gleaned a few quarts of broken tiles, plates and crockery. It's not too hard in such an old town, but the people at the tile store acted as if butter wouldn't melt in their mouths when I asked if they had any refuse. I need more, and also some practice. Please e-mail me if you have any left over chipped plates or spare marbles in this area, especially if they are any color other than white. To think, I had to let go of so many shards that my mother had saved.

IG

Ow, ow ow. I feel like I got hit by a truck. Oh. Right. This afternoon I planted a rose bush in Remington to note my close brush. The old Italian men on 23rd street invited me to share their homemade wine and enjoy the sunshine with them in lawn chairs set up on the sidewalk. That's really quite an honor. I hear it knocks your socks off and will take them up on their offer when some one else can fetch me home. I don't want to be driving about, careening into innocent pedestrians. Let's put a sock full of rice in the microwave and call it a day. Tommorrow I may mulch the gardens.

A Fright

This morning after I put on matching neon green socks, underpants and a co-ordinating tee shirt under my otherwise black duds, I figured I was all set in case I got gurnied into an ER today. Yes, I think that sometimes as I change my small clothes and make sure they have no holes, my mother's voice will live on in my head to the end. Then I marched forth into the world, all confident and enjoying the warming temperatures, when I actually got hit by a car less than a block from my home. It was more of a sudden hard shove, really. I got backed into by a big Mountaineer. I yelped real loud and staggered to the side as I saw the woman look at me and take off. Then I sat down and cried from being scared that I almost got squashed... I shoulda called the cops and I will regret not having done so if my back aches as I think it may tommorrow. It could have been so much worse. Happy birthday, little Ethanol! I love you gobs and gobs.

My next show

Score! Score! Score! This morning I found a box of discarded small, almost antique picture frames, with glass. There were just about 20 of them in a carton labeled; "Fred's Room Misc frames".  Among them I found a five inch square gold leaf shadow box lined in moss green velvet, hinged all over in brass and a round Indian carved easle frame. Now, some people may tease me about picking through other peoples' refuse, but I see some profit in filling these empty frames with a few good woodcuts or small collages. So! I chucked the box in the van along with the solid mahogany pedestal table these idiots recyclers threw out with the frames. I left behind a pine bench/box too big to truck away, but it would be really, really cool upended and showcasing a mannequin in an odd  fashion diorama.

A new trick

I got a fresh pork shoulder, vastly reduced. I couldn't find the glass lid of the large slow cooker's crock, so I seasoned it with garlic and pepper and herbs all over. Then I wrapped it up with a bunch of fresh sliced onions in foil and cooked it at 350 for about 4 and a half hours. I looked it up on the 'web. I've never done pulled pork "dry" this way but it smells wonderful. I'll pick it apart and trim it when it cools, then simmer in bbq and I'll let you know.

A word of caution

I'd better mind my P's and Q's and not take any more railroad spikes, since I may end up like these charmers.