They’re not weeping, but that first one looked like it was from the back. They’re creepy, anyway.
Found in a cemetery in Waterloo, Illinois, on our trip to Foster Pond last week.
This weekend was all about clearing projects off my plate. Most of them were little projects (moving the quail, putting bird netting in the garden to protect my tomatoes, and starting a new batch of beer), but the big one I’d been meaning to finish involved the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcar.
I’ve been neglecting the car for about two years. Oh, not the mechanical stuff — I take it in to have the oil changed and the tires rotated and various belts and filters and things replaced at all the appropriate times — but what makes the Dreamcar the Dreamcar is its Amazing Technicolor paint job, which becomes decided less amazing and decidedly less technicolor after a few months in the sun. To look its best, it really needs to have its hood and roof repainted about once a year.
Last time I repainted it was a couple of days before we left for vacation in 2012.
After spending the brutal summer of 2012 in the Oklahoma sun, it was pretty faded out, but before I got a chance to repaint it, we moved, and I was too busy to mess with it. I also managed to leave all my leftover spraypaint behind when we moved, and I couldn’t really justify spending the better end of $50 on a glorified craft project while we were paying for two mortgages. By the time we sold the house in Tulsa, it was October, and then the holidays hit, followed by ice storms, a rainy spring and a stormy summer, and … well, yesterday was really the first opportunity I’ve had to do anything with the car, so I took advantage of it.
While I was working, I installed a few of my recent acquisitions on the dashboard:
I painted a TARDIS on part of the car last night, but the sealer I used on it this afternoon interacted badly with the paint and ran all over the place, so I’ll have to sand that area off and start over as soon as I can shake free.
I’ve been slowly but surely converting a tiny, unused space at the end of the kitchen cabinets into a sort of FlyLady-style “launching pad” for the back door.
Thanks to an inconveniently placed vent, I had a section of unused space at the end of the cabinets that was about 18 inches wide and as deep as the counter. The wall was wide enough to hang a calendar, but I couldn’t put anything on the floor because it would impede air circulation.
Last week, I installed a hanging deck planter under the calendar to hold a hive tool, a pair of bee gloves, a can of goldfish food and a few other odds and ends, and we picked up a little tile-topped plant stand yesterday to hold a bag each of quail feed and dried mealworms (the birds’ favorite treat). Then last night at Target, I found the most appropriate of all possible hooks to hang my ballcap and bee jacket:
Very convenient, and I love reclaiming wasted space — especially in a 730-square-foot house, where we don’t have much space to waste.
I made a few other purchases today, mostly for the pond:
The white circles in the pond are the bottoms of styrofoam coffee cups. They’re temporary; I put them out there to give the bees a safe place to land so they don’t drown while they’re trying to get a drink. Also note the presence of our old friend Smeagol, the weird Gollum-looking lawn ornament I found at Lowe’s a few years ago and absolutely could not resist. Too many summers in the Oklahoma heat left him with what appears to be the corrupt-plastic-hobbit version of vitiligo, but a coat of Rust-Oleum should fix that easily enough. I still need to come up with a good way to display a replica of the One Ring in the pond. Geeky, yes, but that’s just the way I like it.
Hope your garden is just the way you like it, wherever you are.
I’ve been dinking around with filters and layers for a design project I’m doing at work, and while I was figuring out a shortcut today, I ‘Shopped up a photo Ron shot of me yesterday at Daily Star Comics in Metropolis:
Don’t look too closely, or you’ll see where my lines got a little wobbly on a couple of spots I was trying to enhance by hand, but I think it’s still a fun photo. Way better than Bitstrips.
Too bad I didn’t figure out the shortcut before I spent 10 hours tracing posterized edges by hand to convert photos to cartoons. -_-
“So let Germany brew your beer. Let Switzerland make your watch. Let Asia assemble your phone. We will build your car.” — Bob Dylan
OK. Let me make sure I’m following this line of reasoning:
Germany is known for great beer, so we should let Germany brew our beer.
Switzerland is known for great watches, so we should let Switzerland make our watches.
Asia is known for great electronics, so we should let Asia assemble our phones.
And Bob Dylan is known for writing brilliant, incisive lyrics that are sharply critical of the Establishment, so we should let him …
…sell us a car?
And that heckler in Manchester thought it was bad when he went electric.
Either Bob Dylan has lost his damn mind, or he’s just trolling the hell out of us for giggles, like Johnny Rotten did a few years ago:
Or maybe this is just a sort of belated answer song to “Diamonds and Rust.” After all, on some recordings of her song about her failed relationship with Dylan, instead of ending with, “I’ve already paid,” Joan Baez ends with, “I’ll take the diamonds.”
Maybe advertising Chrysler products is just Dylan’s little way of saying, 40 years later, that he’s content with the rust. </snark>
Look at these pictures:
Now, look at this post from 2006 that I stumbled across tonight while I was looking for my thermophilic compost recipe.
I told y’all Pixar wasn’t the first to come up with the idea of a rough-and-tumble redhead with Scottish blood doing unladylike things while dressed like a refugee from a Renn fair.
Too bad I gave that outfit to Goodwill before the movie came out. I’d look pretty cool wandering around the Secret Garden in Makanda in that getup.
I realize I’m outrageously late to the party, but while I was busy ignoring my blog for extended periods of time, we bought a TV, whereupon Ron kindly downloaded several seasons of Dr. Who for me.
If you are a woman, and you can look at David Tennant without thinking, “Yeah, I’d swap life as I know it and face down an army of Daleks to go joyriding around the universe with that,” I’m gonna have to ask you to surrender your nerd card. I mean, dunno if I’d trade the Phillies’ new manager for him, but I’d probably consider it. I don’t think the Doctor ever hit two home runs off the best closer in baseball, but as far as I know, Ryne Sandberg isn’t a Time Lord, either. Which is a shame, because he’d look good wielding a sonic screwdriver and battling Slitheens and stuff.
We all know I have never been disinclined to drive all over creation looking for ridiculous things to photograph, but my newfound fondness for the good Doctor gave me added motivation to make a mad dash over to Metropolis, Ill., a couple of weeks ago to visit a comic-book store whose owner, a devout Whovian, has constructed a replica of the TARDIS under a giant fiberglass ice-cream cone in his parking lot:
The TARDIS is still a work in progress, as evidenced by the fact that it’s pretty much the same size on the inside. Its owner assures me it will be more convincing when it’s finished. In the meantime, it’s certainly suitable for photo ops.
While I was in town, I had to take a picture of Metropolis’ other alien resident, who probably ought to buy the Doctor a beer and have a chat about what it’s like to be the only surviving member of an alien species with a penchant for rescuing humanity from extinction on a regular basis:
I wonder how the Man of Steel would fare against an army of Cybermen?
There’s more geekery in Metropolis, but I was running out of daylight, so I didn’t have time to go looking for it. I’ll have to make another trip over there when I have more time on my hands.