17. That could be the number. I'm not quite sure. If it isn't is soooo damn close. The more I look at it, the more I think it might be the one. 16 was OK, and I really don't think 18 will end up being that good. But 17. That speaks to me. Not sure if it's the right language. But it does speak to me. Could be French, I don't know for sure. But, if 17 isn't it, I don't know how much closer I'm gonna get.
Rain, rain, rain, rain, more rain, some sprinkles, then some more rain. Thunder, lightning. Whoop-te-freakin-do. If things don't dry out around here, I guess they'll just stay wet. I'm thinking the mosquitoes this season will be about the size of small goats.
**Teeny Tiny Orange Things
I think I'm gonna make one last attempt at getting the tank back on-line. My prime motivator for doing so was the discovery last night of at least two baby platys.
**The End Of The Project
Just about 2 weeks till Eve gets that MBA placed in her tiny brown fist. Sorry I can't be there, but I am looking forward to seeing the new place.
Donde esta Kittyluv? Yo no se.
**No Chips Off The Block
I can almost hear the mumblings and rumblings growing louder down in central IL. I understand that I have gotten quite a ways off schedule regarding a certain carving I had meant to have completed by about a month ago. Ooops. No, not really oops. Just running with the artistic fuel of the moment, and it isn't wood carving. But with the potential return of warm weather, I'll move the carving station back outside and renew my efforts. I mean, you can't just bail on someone you've known since the fourth grade...
**I'm Just A Night Owl
Mornings are just too full of distractions to be good productive times for me in the studio. The dogs want in, the dogs want out, the phone is ringing, Sheri wants me to do this and she wants me to do that, grass needs to be moved, errands need to be run, and flowers need to be watered. Blech. Can't concentrate with all that going on around me and constantly trying to suck me in. So it looks like I'm going to be doing the late shift in the studio. On the days that I work, that ends up being an end time of about 2 in the morning. Sometimes earlier, sometimes later, depending on how it's going. Sheri does not like this idea. Her primary argument against it was that the later I stay up, the later I will be getting up in the morning, thus missing out on one of the things I need most when the weather is warm: sunlight. While I can't argue with that, I also presented the fact that even when it's sunny out, I don't tend to go outside until the heat has had a chance to build up. Either way, I'm up and functional by 1030-1100.
Of course this is all conditional on the idea that the momentum I currently have going on indoor type artistic projects can be maintained. I do have quite the stock of logs and other types of wood in the garage. And they have shown a huge lack of motivation when it comes to carving themselves. Given the general amount of mess involved, carving is the kind of thing I prefer to do outside. But right now, my energy is running quite smoothly in other directions, and I'd rather not muck that up.
**O U 8 IT 2
Once again I find myself tossing around the idea of getting either a vanity or personalized license plate. Check out the possibilities in the sidebar survey, and cast a vote for your favorite. Go ahead and vote for more than one if you want.
My bike hasn't made it down from it's winter spot on the ceiling of the garage yet. Not helping matters is the great pile of boxes stacked in that corner of the garage that Sheri has yet to go through.
**I'm really not convinced that it's safe for me to run the rest of the gas out of the snow blower yet. In much the same way that I'm not convinced that it's safe yet to uncover my banana plants, or plant my morning glory seeds. And, as usual, I find myself willingly behind the curve on lawn care. I'm pretty sure that probably three of my neighbors have mowed their yards at least once already. I think one last snow may just be possible. Or that could just be wishful thinking. But then again I hate snow.