Somewhat in honor of NASA’s birthday, a blue cake with what I thought were dinosaur sprinkles (to symbolize the dinosaur “extinction” when they departed in spaceships). But on closer inspection the sprinkles reveal themselves to be fish-shaped. As Ciro says, it’s like paying a visit to Jurassic Park only to discover it’s an aquarium.
We’re replacing the fence; you can see the post holes. This is exciting but also means the fence is temporarily down. Our neighbor who probably has dementia regularly accuses us of sneaking onto her property in the dead of night to poison her plants (mostly weeds, but her weeds), and has indeed taken the opportunity of fence-downness to tell us she knows that we snuck that dead branch into her tree. (Yes, there was a thunderstorm two weeks ago which knocked down trees all over the neighborhood, but this explanation is too simple. Also we probably set up the thunderstorm; we’re very crafty.)
The blueberries are bluing, now that we have rescued the bush from some honeysuckle that was taking over. As always, the berries are tart and not very flavorful, and are in all ways inferior to blueberries bought at the grocery store. Still, I like having something to pick at.
Our fence is going to be replaced this week, so Dad has carefully moved all the spare bricks into a well-organized pile. Chipping the excess mortar off took the better part of two days. Are we planning to use the bricks for something? Is this their final resting place? No and no. Is Dad this tidy in any of the rooms within the house? Does he even put his dishes in the dishwasher? No. Is this a characteristic Dad project? Yes.
I dug my old pipeworks set out of the garage and have spent the last month building useless and ever-changing assemblies in the yard.
My cousin Scarlett gave me red paisley Doc Martens, because they don’t fit her and because she is moving to Hawaii. I believe she intended to give them to me for the first reason alone, but the move accelerated the process. Despite having been a teen in the 90s, this is the first pair I have ever owned. I still haven’t worn them except to try them on; I haven’t had a reason to wear shoes the last few days.
It would be inaccurate to say I reorganized the bookshelves; they weren’t organized to begin with. When I moved here not quite four years ago, I unloaded boxes wherever they would fit. Since then, things have not become any more ordered; instead they’ve gotten knocked over, stuck behind things, and piled on counters. This has been bad for morale and for finding what I’m looking for. But no longer! Now if I seem lost it is because I am sneezing from all the dust.
One of the eggs cracked before we dyed it; unpeeled, it is a lightning egg, perhaps from a thunder lizard. My mom is the hand model and is herself perhaps a thunder lizard.
For Easter, I used a resist wax technique on some of the eggs, essentially batik. I’m not quite at the level of Ukranian pysanka; I’d love to have their styluses and their black dye. Yet I suspect it’s best I don’t.
The kitchen counter was dirty and covered in empty plant pots; it all looked cosmic to me, but I have nebulae on the brain.
Many people do not realize the day of the dead is actually three days, depending on which dead. In this case, skulls one and two are Christmas ornaments, and the third is tequila. Hopefully soul cakes will arrive sometime.
I carve my jack o’ lanterns freehand, without much plan. Note the spooky earring.
The furthest abroad I got this year was Georges Island, in Boston harbor (about 30 miles from my house). All unpopulated spaces are starting to look like video game levels to me (not that I’ve had time to play games either).
Spent another Saturday at the ICA Boston with my thrilling costume box, taking portraits of visitors as themselves and not themselves.
You can pretty much tell where I started and ended this sketch, because my pencil stops being sharp after a certain point.