Limburger Hit and Run

I've decided not to ditch this blog after all.
By wild popular demand (2 or 3 Etsyians), I will relate one of my limburger stories. That I have more than one gives pause. This one involves what I might almost consider familial treachery - but without intent - so ultimately, I could accuse my mother of little more than Negligant Assisted Limburger Consumption in the 3rd degree (probably more of a misdemeanor).
Several years ago, my mother bestowed on me a package of limburger she'd picked up while shopping. I'm not one to ask questions about handouts, so I took it home and we ate some eventually. Days later, a thought blossomed... Why would my mother buy a package of limburger, which she doesn't eat, just to give to me, not even knowing if I'd eat it?
At my next visit, I asked why she'd bothered to buy the cheese. She replied in a quite offhand manner, "Oh, I didn't buy it. I found it in the parking lot." !!! When pressed for details, she freely offered them. My jaw hung open and I can remember only a few pieces of her explanation....phrases such as:
"It couldn't have been there that long" and
"It was in the slush, but I cleaned it off" and
"The outer box was fine, there were no marks on it" and
"Well, the other car hit it, but it wasn't driven over" and
"It looked fine" and
"I figured it was fine."
(Was she sure she mentioned that it was fine?)
I might have felt bad about eating it, but after hearing all that, I began to feel more sorry for that poor boxed limburger, much like one pities an abandoned family pet. I imagined it having been dropped in a cold, slushy supermarket parking lot, then getting hit by a car, languishing for who knows how long before Mom had the heart to take it in, clean it up and adopt it out. It might have even had to spend the night out there - alone in the dark!
One of my father's many sayings was, "You have to eat a bushel of dirt before you die." I've got at least a few more tablespoonsful to go.

The Art Card Diaspora

Here they are, all eleven of them. Making the cards as a batch was both a challenge and a blast, and I wouldn't have gotten anywhere if I didn't have them all spread out in from of me, ideas and images materializing simultaneously. I've got a new way to work now. Look them all over and find yours - and no complaining ("hey, I like THAT one better... why couldn't I have gotten that one...!") And remember to leave your comments, if you have a moment. Thanks to everyone for your interest and inspiration.

Junking It, Part 2: The Reckoning

It's taken a few days to recover from the shock, but it's time to let it go... After one of my thrift adventures last week I was shuffling through some things in the back floor of the truck. Spotting what I thought was a Lego piece, I picked it up and mentally scolded the boys for leaving parts/pieces everywhere. It appeared to be the clear plastic windscreen "mask" to a Lego-man helmet that had popped off. I picked it up to examine more closely, turning it this way and that, thinking "hmm, it sure got dirty." Then the sickening realization set it like a many-pronged fork - it was a huge fingernail clipping, which could not have originated from our family. Much too large, thick and dirty. I could only assume it rode in on the thrift store finds. Unfortunately, in my horror, I didn't think clearly enough to fling it outside the truck - I simply flung it away from me and somewhere back into the truck's interior. Since then I haven't been able to locate it. It's....still....there...somewhere. You know though, you DO get a lot for your money at those stores.
(Walking Fish Pharoah courtesy of SonWon)

Junking It

It's a case of junk itch. Untreatable with fungus ointments. For reasons unclear, I've been back at the thrift stores speed-trolling for treasures. I purposely visit when there's a time crunch so as to limit myself. I'd abandoned this pursuit some time ago while trying to purge my life of years of excess crap, but as many of you know, this isn't something that just goes away. The stores have been inexplicably crowded, too... maybe people are cruising for post-Christmas cast-offs.. so it's a bit of a turn-off. It's a bummer to see Volvos in the Goodwill parking lot. Even the As-Is section of Sally Ann was bustling and we were dodging each other left and right through the urine-scented air.
Most of my loot has been books ripe for the chopping block... now if I could figure out what to do with them. Years of Catholic schooling has paralyzed me to the idea of cutting, ripping, writing in or in any way disfiguring a (cue the organ music...) BOOK. Well, I do it all now anyway, but only once I've got a clear plan, which is an awfully constrained way to approach "creativity." I managed to get through all of college never once marking or highlighting a textbook. Then grad school.... with minimal underlining and lightly penciled margin notes. Call me wild.
If this thrifting continues, I may end up with platform boots, several fish bowls and some Herb Alpert LPs (and nothing to play them on).
(Siamese Birds courtesy of SonToo)

Canine Exemption Clause

Notice in the previous post there were no self-imposed restrictions for blabbing on about my puppy.
To spare all of you except for the hard-core boxer lovers, it's suffice to say that we are still in the D & D Phase: Defecation and Destruction, which rarely fall under the cute umbrella (and here, hard-core boxer lovers may disagree). Thankfully, the errant tootsie rolls around the house are becoming rare (but much larger), though we've seen enough disemboweled Santa ornaments to last a lifetime.

This Is The Blog That Isn't

As an inaugural blog, I have little to say. Thanks to those who have encouraged me to bother starting up; this move was intended to invite, or cajole, more traffic toward my Etsy shop and I can only hope it has something of an effect. Let me state that I am on high alert concerning this blog - specifically, I live in fear that it will degenerate into a monologue about what I ate for breakfast or what cute antics my kitty cat did today. (Not having a cat is a big help around this particular pot hole.)

Ground rules for myself, as a start:
1) No use of the terms "constantly evolving"... "installation" (except when used as a derisive description)... "put a smile on your face"... "artisan"
2) No mention of breakfast.
3) More groundrules will eventually be necessary.