More beauty in the broken. Here’s what’s left of my car window after a walk in the woods this weekend had me and a friend return to find the car ransacked. Mother truckers! They managed to skip the trunk entirely though. Good thing! So(me)one had their laptop in there, as well as both our purses, and even our phones, until, upon first heading out- gasp- we realized we were phone-free, and returned to take our addictions with us. Talk about that one time you do the thing being the time the thing happens! ♦
Finding art and beauty in everything lately. Threw Bean and Shane a co-ed shower for Button a while back and during clean up some of the leftovers mingled together in a pleasing menagerie of texture and composition. I dig the rather garish colors as well. Pickles, rocket, croutons, and candy of cotton.
Then at the store, these hearts nearly leapt out at me, with a call to join their army of love. Fall in line!
And this walk- nothing oddly unusual, just nature wearing its glory au naturel.
A pause before entrance.
Spent some time in O Canada last summer where I stopped in at Miniature World. The carnivalian (gettin’ wordy with words) circus scene was an absolute favorite. It employed sooo many little figurines of people and I wondered how many folks set them all up- just one? They aren’t willy-nilly- they’re all in an interaction or have a place to be. No red noses though. I’m partial to the guy at the far right walking out of frame, the way the lower half of his coat’s taken flight. The scene sprawls for many feet beyond the photo filled with replicas of all the classic rides found in such places. Push a button and the lights dim causing everything to glow in the dark under black lights.
Oh, yes, and there’s this dandy as well.
In things with a bit less beauty, I had to take part of my car dash apart recently in the hopes of installing a new flasher relay, no blinkers = no darn good. Took me less than five minutes to remove the two screws and swap the thing out. Success! Even learned what the heck torx 20 screws were and that they allowed me to finally use the star tip bits in the screwdriver kit. It then took me no less than a stinking (pee-yew) half an hour to get the darned things back in place. At any rate, I can now flash people freely again, and we’re all better for it.
Gosh, three days after a trip through the car wash and nothing to show for it according to the photo here.
It would appear that I’m still evil as someone felt they must brand my little car on the passenger’s side door. They must know it’s best spelled with an “A” as well. Most of the time it doesn’t display itself quite so prominently, and with the circle not etched in as deep, I’m merely marked as though with a scarlet letter. (In other things anarchy, Bender’s lines continually repeat in my mind as I write.)
Those are stars in my ears, uh, eyes. ♦
I don’t like not writing and sharing, at the very least, a little. Been trying to post on Instagram the last few months and I’m awful at it. Have had an account for years lying dormant, so thought I’d (finally) give it a go, but after a time, ten likes feel the same as fifty and who the heck cares.
I’ve a backlog of photos I’d like to post that were supposed to find their way to Instagram, but I haven’t tended to business. Yet. I’m more concerned with the photos I’ve let pass by in recent times like the car key that landed perpendicularly onto the elevator crack. Had it landed parallel (onto it), a photo wouldn’t have done any good in capturing the abyss beyond.
I made some pretty nifty zombie heads in jars to celebrate a Walking Dead themed work celebration that deserved a pic or two. Zombies used to scare the poopella outta me, blame it on the release of the 1990 version of Night of the Living Dead. The plodding methodical body with no mind to reason with nor to outmaneuver. Zombies were second only to anything in a mask. Obscure the eyes, cover the nuance of movement upon the face, leave nothing to be “read”? Michael Meyers embodies both the methodical plodding AND an engulfing mask. Love what you fear.
Oh, and that time the engine nearly fell out of my car wiping the oil pan out entirely and was salvaged only by a portion of a passenger-side floorboard. That was meant for a photo, but I was just glad to not have injured anyone. Now a mere two weeks later, all is again safe and up to speed quite literally. My lovely little Beetle lives on.
Did manage to capture my favorite gift wrap job from a mucho talented friend.
And I’ve taken some holiday photos for the sharing. Christmas feels like a marathon this year and I’m one pie crust behind. A different kinda tree here, a bit of a Charlie Brown up and off the ground so Julian’s little body can have free reign to move about without fear of a tree mishap, like accidentally donning the thing. He’s not a cat after all (resists temptation to post video of felines harassing holiday foliage).
Speaking of little bodies, I’m an aunt! Sure, I have a little over five months more till we meet, but aunt, I am. Bean calls the baby Button. There’s much speculation over whether Button is a boy or a girl, and I say, “Don’t worry, we’ll ask her when she gets here.” Yes, Bee, Bean and Button.
Still wondering where I belong in the world overall. Thankful for the pockets I fit here and there. Wish I had an everloving clue on where to look and what to seek, cuz it’s getting late(r) in the game, and it’s all going so fast. ♦
It came for me in the night with a quick leap and a light landing on the hood of my car. Its gaze fixed, intent on its prey, it made its way up the windshield glass headed for the open sunroof.
*swiftly turns knob to close roof window*
Playing on old fears that once ran rampant, my pulse quickened as it padded back and forth along the sunroof, beginning to mew repetitively, poking at the glass with a front paw and butting a nose quizzically against the pane. All that could be seen were glowing eyes the color of honey against inky black fur all but blocking out any light from the carport ceiling above. Minutes passed and the thing made its way back down the windshield, only to turn and sit, staring at me intently. I moved to open the door and it leapt down to greet me, trying to jump inside. I closed the door and waited, wondering why this unknown creature of night so intently needed to be near me and I fought thoughts of Stephen King’s The Cat From Hell knowing full well just how near that particular one wished to be.
Feeling fairly trapped, I threw open the door to get on with it, standing up to find this feline sitting near the adjacent car’s back tire still mewing continually and, frankly, looking adorable. As I began walking, carrying a billion zillion (exact count) items for my dad’s approaching party, it circled my feet multiple times, splaying out across the walk with a come hither pet me invite, belly exposed and legs bent laxly in the air. Silly thing, though I don’t know its name, gender or residence, it now regularly escorts me to and from my car as with the Bo-Bo kitties from times past.
Painting by Aaron Bolton
Blue and Brown! Two lovely birds such as these (from years past) have commandeered the rafters just this last week with a spectacular nest stuffed with the sweetest downy feathers and woven together in a most magnificent fashion. All manner of twig, branch, mud and general naturey goodness has been employed in the making. And look out if one dare tarry too long in their presence- swooped at most certainly and possibly pecked shall one be.
So, so, so grateful I didn’t knock the darn thing down! Several nights ago, I returned home from Cameron Crowe’s latest flick, Aloha– listening to the soundtrack this very- to find a little girl of no more than threeish-four in a light pink sundress and bare feet, standing in the road just past the mailboxes. Attached to her by way of hand was a security officer gently padding her along from his stopped car to mine. I opened the window to ask if everything was okay- barefoot munchkin at midnight?- and he promptly asked if I knew her and where she might live. A few others quickly congregated seemingly out of nowhere- open windows on warm nearly summer nights may be a clue- yet none knew of her. Silent, she stayed, small index finger tapping her upper lip. He’d found her on the playground and determined that a call to the police was the next step. As I pulled away, a woman walked up with the words, “YOU’RE supposed to be inside with Grandma,” falling from her mouth. Wish she’d seemed a bit more loving and less irritated for such a young child, though I don’t know the woman’s heart nor thoughts. Perhaps she was scared, angry, relieved, elated and embarrassed all at the same time.
Parked and began the short trek upstairs with a big, big jungle of a new plant and the days accumulation- bag, purchases, and a package or two from the mail. Balancing it all, I looked quite the sight I’m sure as I felt my way up the stairs more so than saw my way, the big, big jungle of a new plant obscuring my vision and towering above my head. I only discovered the nest because of the furious aerial attack felt all around as much fluttering and rushing of air occurred. Plopping the plant, purchases and packages down at the door, I turned to see the welcomed sight of Blue and Brown and their new digs. I cringe to think how close the plant leaves likely were to touching their nest. Funny, these birds had come to mind in recent days, but hadn’t yet arrived at the time. New neighbors! ♦