Sunday, March 29, 2009


She moves through the day and I see
Endless combinations of
Complicated lines

She contemplates then laughs
Changing courses of
Emotional lines

She speaks haltingly, her lashes flutter
The beginnings of
Hesitant lines

She looks away, in the curve of her neck
The definition of
Graceful lines

She disappears into her thoughts
And I ponder
Unknown lines

My pencil on the paper, it makes nothing more than
A trail of
Inaccurate lines

She dances from my memory
And leaves behind
Fading lines

Saturday, March 28, 2009

A ninja lives under my bed-
A thought that fills me with dread.
He plots and he schemes,
While above I have dreams.
He gets hired to make people dead.

Pink Flipper Nubs

She knew it was going to be a long day when the neighbors started archery practice at ten in the morning. She listened to the incessant thwacking of the arrows into their targets and the relentless shouting of the fletching coach as she stared at the hole in the ceiling that she now realized looked like a profile of Ghandi. It felt odd to have Ghandi posed there on the ceiling, about three feet to the left of the door, just to the right of the cantaloupe stain, and almost directly over her knees as she lay there in bed. She stuck her tongue out at him and scooted her legs over to the other side of the bed, her toes looking for cool spots in the sheets while avoiding the still drowsy chinchillas. About the time she was wondering if Ghandi would have liked thin crust over deep dish, an arrow smashed through the window with a crash and a shower of broken glass. It embedded itself in the opposite wall with a thunk while the endless curses of the fletching coach drifted up from below. She peeked out from under the blanket and saw that it had joined twenty-seven other similar arrows that protruded from her poster of Wink Martindale hugging Pat Sajak at varying depths and angles. Before she had time to fully ponder the wonderful tightness and horrible fletching of the shot grouping, she was reaching for the battered army helmet on the bedpost, fully aware of what would happen next. She had just managed to fasten the buckle of the chinstrap when the door to her room disintegrated with a boom and a cloud of sparks and smoke. The chinchillas stirred restlessly under the covers. Walter charged into the room covered in military equipment of every sort, dove onto the floor, and slithered over to the window. He winked at her from his position below the window as he fitted a rather nasty looking attachment onto a rather nasty looking machine gun that he had pulled form a rather wicked looking backpack. She covered her ears as he leapt to his feet with a wild shout and began firing utterly randomly out the window in any direction allowed by the laws of physics. He was quickly engulfed in a cloud of blue smoke from the gun as pale green shell casings flew all over the room. After a couple of minutes, one of the chinchillas sneezed and Walter paused to take a drink from one of the many wicked looking juice boxes hanging from his nasty looking belt while he affixed a bitchin small parachute to the nasty looking gun. After tossing it out the window, he crumpled his now empty, but still wicked looking, juice box and clenched a nasty looking knife between his teeth. He sat down on the windowsill facing her, she tossed him a quick salute, and he winked at her again and then tumbled backwards out the window with a shout. She thought the rhinestone beret was a snappy addition to his outfit and hoped he managed to avoid landing in the begonias this time.

Friday, March 20, 2009

Arsenic Spangled Asparagus

**Poppin Purple Petals

Friday was the first official day of spring, according to the calendar. While looking out the window into the front yard, I just happened to notice a purple crocus that had managed to pop up out of the yard. It was a pleasant surprise after after a very cold night and a near endless winter. I think that same, single lonely crocus comes up every year, despite a summer's worth of beheadings by the lawn mower. Had I actually intentionally planted it there, I could take credit for it being my first bloom of the season. But, since no one is any the wiser as to the exact origins of said flower; Gaze in wonder, all ye people, upon my first bloom of the year!

**What Did You Have To Show To Get Those??
How seriously can you take someone who has sparkly green shamrock deelybobbers on their head? Congrats, Victoria, you may have found something that actually cools my wanton animal lust for you. I find it very difficult to be aroused while laughing uncontrollably. Not completely impossible, mind you, just highly difficult.

**No, The White Ones Are Yours...
Well, Samantha was the only one who showed for the St Pat's Game Day. A small part of that may have had to do with trying to assemble a group in a matter of hours instead of days. No matter. I managed to satisfy my game jones while simultaneously annoying a bunch of people in Borders. Double bonus! Even though I had trucked in enough games to satisfy a group 10 times the size of the one that was there, all that hit the table was Dominique, Hey! That's My Fish, and Hoppers. Made a damn fine way to spend a sunny, but windy, afternoon.

**Is That A Tree Trunk, Or Are You Just Happy To See Me?
Sunday turned out to be a pretty nice day, so I intended to head up to within spitting distance of the state line and take Stacy up on her offer to pick through some of the downed trees on her property. The big prize for the day was an uncut maple(?) tree that was down, freshly cut, and in the range of 25' long. The small end measured in at 16", so after a little planning I opted to cut four 4' sections out of it. With Rob's help, I lashed the two 8' sections with a chain and dragged them out of the forested area and into a clearing using their Jeep. Once I had them there, I cut them each in half again. That left me with the four 4' sections I had wanted. Then came the ridiculously strenuous job of getting them into the back of the Tribute. Ladies and Gentlemen, let it be officially known that I now completely understand that I am not quite what I once was physically. Not that I think I could have ever deadlifted a 500+ pound log by myself, but even with three of us, wrestling these monsters into the Tribute was a hernia waiting to happen. In the end, we got two of them loaded, and had no practical or sensible way to get a third one in. There was no physical way to get all four of them into the Tribute, even if we had some way to lift them without killing ourselves. So, I filed in the space not occupied by these massive logs with assorted other pieces of varying diameters. Unfortunately, the majority of the trees that were down had already been cut into firplace sized sections by Rob. That mostly killed my idea of finding a stockpile of 3, 4, and 5:1 sized logs. After a couple hours of tromping around in the mud and brush, we said our goodbyes and headed for home. I was already feeling what the strain of loading the truck had done to me, so the wife was kind enough to stop by her office on the way home and give me a nice half hour massage to try and get ahead of all the stiffness that was setting in already. After that, the other stop on the way home was to Menard's, where I picked up a 2 ton capacity ratchet winch. This ridiculously simple device allowed me to unload the two beasts from the truck by myself with minimal effort and no further physical damage to any of my body parts. I am hoping it will also allow me to make another trip and pick up the two I couldn't load up this time around. After all that, the question becomes what is it that I intend to do with this quartet of logs? Haven't got the faintest idea.

**Low Enough To Jump?
Rates on 30 year fixed mortgages were at 4 7/8% when I checked this morning. A quick call to the bank, and I found out that for a cost of around $700 we could refinance the mortgage and knock $200 bucks a month off of what we're paying now. I'm waiting until after I do all the paperwork this weekend to make a decision. Of course, by that time, rates will have no doubt climbed to the level where they are easily viewed from the International Space Station.

**Wood Chips And Pedicures
Carving continues on Jo's dragon. The floor and work benches continue to slowly disappear under mounds of chips and shavings. I'm working on getting the feet/toes done, and then I'll go back and finish up the wings. Then comes the body and arms, and last the head. Then comes more sanding than I am comfortable thinking about right now.

**Nice Day For A Walk
People seem to have a compulsion to want to park as close to any given building as is allowed by the laws of physics. I don't tend to. I have found the walk in from the edges of the parking lot to be a good time to reflect on the ability I have to walk. Tend to take that for granted, among a great many other things. I also like to think that when I pass on taking a parking space really close to the building, it may just be that the person who gets it sees that as a really good note in their day, and they go on to have a better day than they may normally have had otherwise. Plus nobody has ever dented my car way out in the boonies.

**Amaryllis Round 2
The amaryllis Deb gave me for Christmas is putting up another flower stalk. Looks like I'm gonna get three more of these 6" flowers before it's all done. Then the question becomes whether or not I can keep the bulb alive and do it all again next year. This of course goes against my normal distaste for bulb type plants, but these are exotic enough in appearance to hold my interest. May even have to see if I can find some more intensely colored ones.

**Blood Drive Cheapskates
Time was, if you worked for the hospital and you donated during one of their blood drives, you would get a certificate good for a free meal in the cafeteria. Not they even served filet mingon or anything, but you could get yourself a nice complete meal. I found it handy to keep one of these certificates in my locker for the odd days when I didn't have time to make my lunch at home. Then we moved to the new building, and they made a little change. No longer was the certificate good for a free meal, it was only good for a free entre. It was fine with me, I actually haven't had to eat in the cafeteria yet anyway. Plus they shortened to expiration time to like two moths from the issue date. Oh, well. This time around, they showed that they intend to cut costs wherever they can. As a way of saying thanks for being part of their blood drive, KHS gave me a certificate good for a free beverage OR a free dessert. Pretty cheap, in my opinion. The ironic part is, a drink and a dessert is basically what Heartland Blood Center already gives you after you donate. Again, not that I really care, but it just really stands out as a way someone is trying to save a few pennies wherever they can. It also really sucks the hope out of the idea that I could actually get a raise this year.

**At Least It Wasn't Egg Haven....
Mike, one of Sheri's cousins (the son of a parent's sibling would be a cousin, right?) was in town Saturday morning on his way through to Michigan. I find myself highly jealous of how much he really loves his work, and at the same time highly unimpressed with the biscuits and gravy at the Lincoln Inn.

Sunday, March 15, 2009

Unidentified Carrot Poop

**It has been, thus far, an urealistically quiet weekend around the ol' hospital. It may be partly because of the lack of NIU students. It may also be partly because of the moderate and sunny weather outside. And, if I were able to take a nap while I was here, I wouldn't really care either way.

**Speaking of the weather, I am most suspicious of the recent turn of events. From the icy cold downpours of last weekend to the near shirtsleeve temps this weekend, I really get the feeling I'm being set up for yet another of nature's practical jokes. I have no doubt that the morning after I run the snowblower out of gas and bury it in the farthest corner of the garage in favor of the lawnmower, I will awake to a winter wonderland. This would also be the morning after I set out hundreds of dollars worth of freeze delicate bedding plants. I know that measureable sticking snow is often on the menu all the way thru the end of April around here. Penguins, not so much, but you never can tell. I really don't trust that shifty eyed woodchuck, either. I hear he's being subsidized by the Weather Channel.

**Viva thinks I should put an ad in the paper and hire a gardener. I'm not quite sure how to take that.

**I had no idea that Johnny Appleseed was buried in Fort Wayne.

**Thus far it has proven to be annoyingly difficult to find somewhere to buy some bales of straw. At least that's the case in the 3 places I checked today in the space of about an hour. That has been the only potential non-toxic solution I can come up with for the part of the backyard that has turned into an ever expanding mud bog. I am hoping that a few pounds of grass seed with a covering of straw will help reseed that area in a reasonable amount of time. It may also help to keep my carpets from looking like black and white Jackson Pollock paintings courtesy of the Thundering Herd.

**I have a basic basic idea for taking down the big TV aerial on the north side of the house, and yet I think I will refrain from sharing said idea with the wife. I'm betting this is the kind of thing best undertaken when she is not around to notice it actually happening. Of course, should she not be around, I may have to rely on one of the neighbors to call the rescue squad and/or the fire department should things go as they often tend to when I undertake such projects. Still not sure which of those is the better option.

**Pomergranates are an annoying fruit to eat. Tasty, but annoying.

**I am currently awaiting Mr. Koch's acknowledgement of my efforts to place him in checkmate. Should I prove to be correct, my current winning chess average would rocket up to a less than astounding 50%. This victory would still fail to offset the mega-ass-whooping dealt to my pride by the loss I was handed last time around, though.

**In recent nights, I have been having a series of long, strange, vivid dreams. Don't know why.

**Three weeks. That's how long it will be till my next stretch of time off. I am fighting the urge to start marking off the days with big red x's on the calendar.

**The Department of Annoying Events has informed me that I will be attending no less that 3 weddings this summer. One of these involves someone who has already been married. All three involve couples who are already living together. None of them involve anyone I know on any level other than extremely casual. This accounts for the DAE's involvement and their current request for what seems to me to be ridiculous amounts of funding for gifts. I am not amused by the situation. If I still drank, there would at least be a moderate potential for me to be amused while attending these events. As I do not, there is substantial doubt concerning the quantity of my amusement possibilities.

Friday, March 13, 2009

Spooky Spooky With A Side Of Angst

**Booga Booga
It's Friday the 13th. Ooooooh. Another wonderful ghost story that's been passed along from the past. Me, I'm not scared. I'm protected because I sacrificed a wild pig at a crossroads at midnight to Arkanon The Destroyer.

**Got your pics up, Mr. Steve. Head on over and check them out.

**Got a surprising low return on messages sent yesterday. May be time for a change in tactics.

**Move #17 is in the books, and my chess match with Mr. Koch remains a bloodless exercise in tactical maneuvering.

**One Specific Ghost
I don't put any stock in superstition, so I'll attribute the weirdness of my dreams last night to staying up way too late coupled with watching a really really bad movie. There really is no other explanation for Amy to have been a part of my dreams. At least no explanation I can come up with. Even now, I've tried to remember the elements and sequence of that dream several times with little success. The visual is almost completely faded, but the emotional punch is just as fresh as when I first awoke. The image from my dream isn't really her as I remember her, but my brain identified that character/image as being her. Twenty fucking years ago. That's a rough estimate of the last time I saw her. And she still affects me. Why? Why won't that one go away? Or, why can't/won't I let it go? Maybe I've just built it up to be too emblematic of what can happen when you try to be something you're not. A monument to missed opportunity and chances not taken. Realistically though, I can't even say that we would have had a successful, or any other type of, relationship if I had had my head on straight at that time in my life. An icon. That's what the whole thing has almost become. A gold plated monument to what may have been. She found her love. It wasn't me. But, could it have been me? Can't really say. It pains me greatly to say either way. I had my head far enough up my ass that I didn't realize what was going on at the time. That may also account for the disbelief/bitterness that I feel when people say they met and then married their first love. She was it for me. I was too fucking busy trying to be Chris for it to really click in my head that I loved her. Now she is wherever she is, and here I am. I still have a few pictures of her in amidst my high school mementos. One is up on the wall of my studio in a space that I use as a source of inspiration. It's a collection of pictures and souvenirs and assorted things that I use a centering point when I really start to go off kilter. Is that whole episode a lesson? A warning? A cautionary fable? Maybe Shakespeare nailed it when he wrote, 'To thine own self be true'. Why the hell does that still hurt after all this time when there's no evidence that it would have ever worked in the first place? Morgan suggested that I should try and get in contact with her. In the wonderfully computer integrated world in which we exist, it probably wouldn't be very hard. But the possibility of finding her scares the crap out of me. Just thinking about it makes my hands tremble a bit. Mostly because of what I feel would be the three possible outcomes of such a search.

  1. Amnesia. Something and someone from her distant past that no longer registers in any way with her. The notion of being completely forgotten is crushingly terrifying. After my experiences with the reunion last year, however, I must admit it is a very real possibility.
  2. Being wrong. Thinking that I actually had a chance with her where no such chance ever existed. This was yet another ghost that returned to haunt me this past year. I found that it was no less crushing to find out that there was simply no possibility for anything ever happening, despite anything that I thought. She may have found her true love, while I just sailed off the edge of the map.
  3. Being right. Learning that there really was something there that could have been incredible, and it died from neglect on my part. The notion having that particular episode of my life getting filed under 'My Own Damn Fault' makes me severely nauseous.
And there you have it. I'm mindfucked because I don't know, and mindfucked because I'm scared to know. And beyond that, I feel like I'm starting to enter the fringe area of psycho-creepy-obsessive-stalker-type-person. Or maybe this is the type of thing that just doesn't go away. I just don't know.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Echoing Tree Pants

**Mmmmmm.....Me Want Taco....
I now have a mega craving for Mexican food thanks to a certain person who shall remain nameless. This craving also seems to be linked to a bubble of creativity that I hope will generate something in the near future.
Winter has blown back into the area on the wings of 30+ MPH winds. Single digit wind chills have cut short any dreams I had of an upcoming spring. Back to trudging through the cold.
**Thousands Of Hammer Strikes Later
I spent a good deal of time today cleaning the crack of a dragon. (In the literary field, we call that an 'attention getter') The split in the back of the log I had decided to use as the place where the wings come together on the back of the dragon. In order to make it look halfway decent, I've been cleaning out any little bridging bits of wood and trying to smooth out the lines of the whole area. My success thus far has been moderate. I have also decided to add another spine to the wings and will most likely be doing the rough out on that tomorrow. (And yes, Steve, I will get new pics up tomorrow!) I guess the way I'm going to progress towards finishing the piece will be to do the back/wings first, which shouldn't involve a whole lot of detail work, and then flip it over and work on the front, which will involve a huge amount of detail work. And along the way, I will no doubt start at least 37,230 other projects, which will linger in various states of incompletion until who knows when.
**It really isn't a whole lot of fun to pick on somebody who doesn't pick back at least occasionally. Especially when they're as ugly as a cross-eyed monkey. Nudge, nudge, wink, wink.
**What To Do With A Thursday....
Tomorrow is my day off. After that comes a wraparound weekend shift. My intent is to spend as much time down in the studio as I can. As long as I manage to avoid wasting the day farting around on the computer, I should be able to gat a decent amount of stuff done. The only other thing I really need to do is make one of the recipes I picked out for lunch. I may also go on a photo safari, should the spirit move me to do so. I should put the new light up in the closet, lest I suffer the continued wrath of she who cannot see her clothing. That means I should at least make an effort to find out what circuit the closet light is on. Yeah, I don't think I'm real big on the whole electrocution thing. I'm also thinking I need to tweak the carbon dioxide delivery rate into the aquarium.
**This evening is not providing me with an opportunity to begin the process of constructing my puzzle. I'm also not sure what the end reward should be.
**I want this headache to GO AWAY!!

Monday, March 9, 2009

Murky Pickled Vowels

The SW corner of DeKalb feels a bit deserted, as it is apparently spring break for NIU this week. I had no idea. I also have no idea why it is that I thought I should have an idea of when spring break was. All I know is that my spring break will be the first week of April, and it is highly doubtful that beer bongs of any sort will enter into the picture. With much regret, I think I can also file bikini clad coeds into the same category of 'highly unlikely'.

**Out of Focus
I foresee a yet another really big, protracted project in my future. Unless I can sharpen up my photography skills fairly quickly, cataloging all the stuff I want to is going to take forever. I've already decided to redo all the pictures I had posted on Flickr of my Hawaiian shirt collection. In the course of trying to redo this project, I have learned that most of my shirts are about 4' wide, and I have nowhere to lay them flat so I can get a good picture. I also have no really good way to light them properly. And in the first round of retakes, I already have pictures I need to retake. The flash doesn't really seem to do well with the more shiny fabrics. And only one of the tag shots I took really turned out. In the midst of the sea of things that I haven't gotten quite right, I have sorta discovered how to use the macro/super macro feature, though (Got some nice shots of buttons, oh joy!). The up side would be that if I was doing this with actual film and actual film developing, it would have cost me a small fortune by now. So, I guess that it would be pointless of me to complain that I have to go upstairs to download the pictures from the camera onto the computer. Instead, I will complain that the photo manipulation software that I have isn't very good. I will be somewhat happy when I to get to the point where I'm not tossing out 3/4 of the shots I'm taking. Guess I haven't made it to the top of the learning curve yet.

It was not the best of weekends weatherwise, and that may have played a small part in my lack of achievements. Never made it out of bed before 10 in the morning, and any motivation I had went straight into playing the new video game I just bought. Did manage to get a few things done, but Sheri also had 2 migraines over the weekend and that really puts a damper on things. I also discovered through all the rain we had that the drainage tile that takes the majority of the water from the roof and shoots it out into my neighbors backyard had frozen closed over the winter. That caused all the water from the roof to come bubbling up out of the downspouts. And that caused the yard around the south end of the garage to take on a rather rice paddyish appearance. With more storms scheduled to hit us this week, I'm thinking this may be a continuing condition, at least until the ground thaws.

**Somehow, she has afflicted me with an idea, an image, a notion that refuses to go away. Why is it that this has seen fit to get lodged in my brain? The nucleus of a puzzle, perhaps?

**The new light for the closet looks really nice. It's still sitting there on the dresser, in the box, waiting to be put up, but boy, does it look nice. Guess I'll wait until Thursday to take my chances at being electrocuted.

Friday, March 6, 2009

Awkwardly Silent Canteloupes

**The Bottom Line
Oucho. Mucho oucho. Taxes are just no damn fun. And tax preparation is very expensive. After dropping some more money into Sheri's IRA, the numbers lined up with us not owing the government anything, and them actually planning to send a benjamin out my way. We also managed to hack our tax rate almost in half for the past year. The state I don't owe either, and we managed to get Sheri's estimated taxes taken care of with our refund through the third quarter of next year. With no refund to toss Carmie's way to knock down the cost of her services, and H+R Block discontinuing their discount program, I was stuck writing a rather painfully large check to cover the preparation fees. Had it been even remotely winterlike outside when we left the office, I would have ended up in a most foul mood. But the gorgeous nearly spring day allowed me to mostly ignore the cloud of smoke coming from my checkbook. And I have a year to recover until I have to go through that whole process again. Although that may not quite be enough time...

**A mango would be nice right about now. And some Doritos.

For no particular reason that I can figure out, other than the weather, maybe, today really felt like a Friday to me. I guess that statement could use some clarification,eh? Today felt the way I remember Fridays feeling back in the day. Back when at 2:30 I'd be staring out the clasroom window, not paying attention to anything but the smells of spring wafting in. When the journey to Peoria was accomplished with the windows down, the music up, and a fresh pack of cigarettes in hand. When the mall was actually considered a viable social scene and you had absolutely no reason to be home before midnight. When working as fast as you could, even if it meant skipping a thing or two, meant getting out the door and into the street sooner. The whole thing underlaid with this pointlessly wild energy that just made you want to go and run crazy for as long as you could. Friday was an event. Something you looked forward to. Something you indulged in. It was a part of the week unlike any other, and it had it's own special vibe. I miss that.
Years of working in the hospital trade seem to have bleached that feeling almost into nonexistence for me. Friday has just become another 8.5 hour period to be spend toiling in a windowless room that always smells the same. There is no longer the eager gathering of equipment in preparation of an all night dungeoneering session. There are no hours spent on preening in the mirror hoping to catch someone's eye later out on the dance floor. The sense of relief that came from walking in the door and just dropping everything, knowing it would be waiting there for you on Sunday evening, is gone. I really do miss that. Be even better if I could figure out how to get it back.

**White roses and ginger. Seemed odd at first, but it keeps rattling around in my brain.

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Spiffy Arrogant Melon Shoes

**Next In Line, Please...
I have been notified that I am now indeed having an affair with yet another of my coworkers (quite possibly even as I write this). For those of you keeping score at home, this would be, by my best estimation and recollection, my 9th 'other woman' in 13 years. I guess that would explain what happened to my back. It's also no wonder I'm so tired all the time....

**I have also been informed (by a completely different source) that since tomorrow is supposed to be a nice day, it's time for 'us' (translation: me) to give the dogs a bath. Oh. Freakin. Joy.

**Dawn Of The Dragon
All the rough forms are just about completely blocked in on Jo's Dragon, and once I'm relatively happy with all the proportions and such, I'll be starting the detail carving. I may just be able make my deadline. Whenever that is.

**Men In Black
Friday morning we get to plod over to H+R Block to pay people far smarter than us to do our taxes. I am so not looking forward to this. In essence, we now manage to fill a small suitcase with all sorts of receipts, charts, graphs, and small, cranky Peruvian accountants, in order to basically break even after it's all said and done. And that's if everything goes right. Still, plus or minus a few hundred bucks is a good way to end up for the year. I have only the faintest recollection of what it used to be like to sit down and be able to complete my own taxes on a single sheet of paper with a single W-2. At least Carmie, our tax preparer, is cool. She's been doing our taxes for years now. And she always has things in her office for me to play with. I'm just hoping the slump in the economy will have some type of positive effect on our return this year, as that would be about the only good thing it's done for us.

**The only thing worse than getting a call from a telemarketer is getting a call from a telemarketer in training.

**It Wasn't Me, I Swear!!
A recent gift from Viva promises to keep my dogs happily flatulent for a long, long time to come. At least soon I should be able to open the windows in the house to clear out the low hanging cloud of funk nasty toxic fumes continuously emanating from their asses. Unless I die of asphyxiation first....

**Putting Money In The Ground
Red coneflowers? Hardy bamboo? Ferns? Maybe some black elephant ears? The first plant catalog of the season arrived yesterday. This is something I really should not be looking at when we're trying to keep a handle on the budget. Plus, I have basically been banned from converting any more of the yard into space for plants, which totally screws up my idea for getting rid of all the grass. Now, if I just happened to have a bit more yard with a south facing, I'd be sure to find a way around that ban. I guess this year I should just content myself with redoing the front of the house and seeing how far I can get my banana plants to grow. If they managed to survive the winter, that is. But what fun is that? I recently had the thought of putting an arbor up over the front stoop for the summer, and planting some nice climbing vines over the top of it. That would tend to make that area a bit more habitable when it gets really hot out. Might be a good place to make use of some more morning glories. Not that I wouldn't rather plant my pumpkins there, but there would be some weight issues to deal with. Still...
In the end, I hope I may be able to squeak some money out of the budget to just do my usual and buy seeds.

**I need to run out to Menard's and get a new light fixture for the closet before Sheri has a fit.

For some people, pictures seem to be the best way to retain memories. I've noticed I have a really strong link between scent and memory. I remember how the grade school would smell on the first few days of a new school year. I remember how Aussie hair care products smell because that's what Amy used to use. I remember how English Leather smell because I used to practically bathe in it before going out. I kinda remember how the breathing treatments I used to get when I was in the hospital as a kid smelled/tasted. Vanilla has proven to be a big memory key for me as well. And even though I never knew what it was called, I would remember the smell of Morgan's perfume, should I ever smell it again. Odd things to remember. But there they are.

Get Fuzzy

From my scalp to places off yonder
My hair has started to wander
From ears, navel, and nose
Now it grows and it grows
For strange reasons I can only ponder