I shall make a list, to check twice, sometime today. Any tasks undone by the end of the week makes me not naughty or nice.   The weather experts say our area is in for four days, more or less, of rain. Whoot, whoot! That means doing indoor stuff. I need to bring the outdoor carpets inside or drape them in such a way, the rain washes them. Methinks the latter. This morning we treated ourselves to a trip to the cafe for cups of mocha and artisanal pastries. What’s an artisanal pastry you ask? A flaky, robust almond croissant, for example, coated with toasted almonds and tasting of quality ingredients worthwhile of it being six dollars. I’m getting better at not flinching at the cost of treats.  “Baby, it’s cold outside,” the ants are singing as they single-file prance their way into the house. I caught them twice invading the tropical plants by the sliding door window.    So far the ants have laughed at the lavender and rosemary sprigs, the vinegar wash, the spray of citrus-scented house

Three weeks ago, I wrote a list of projects I wouldn't mind completing this year. So far, I've pruned two fruit trees, sowed some wildflower seeds in the backyard, and have begun organizing photos to scan. I like to think that I've brought my blood pressure down. We'll see what the doc says on Friday.  I've added another item to my list: finish painting all the electrical wall plates in the house. At the moment, I'm working on the wall plates in the kitchen. So fun!  

Sow wildflower seeds before the rain comes. (Hopefully we get rain this winter.) Prune the fruit trees. Make a paper mache elephant. Weave a seat and back for a patio chair. We have several old sturdy metal frame patio chairs that the Husband inherited. Alas, most of the plastic straps on the chairs are broken or about to break. I've got loads of material, so why not see if I can weave something stable and safe to sit on.  Finish this wall hanging. See that big floral piece. I visualize a forest. The Husband says it reminds him of a panty. hahahahaha. Scan Mama's photo albums. Reorganize the kitchen cabinets so I don't need to either get the ladder or call for the Husband to reach up high for something. Clear out unnecessary files and folders in my computer. Make an estate plan. Sew a vest for the Husband. I bought the material for the vest at least 5 years ago. It's simply finding a simple pattern for me to follow. Sew a tunic for me. Get my blood pressure down so

I like wandering the back roads of our area. I like looking at the clock and seeing that it's not even 11:00 a.m. and I've accomplished a lot and if I want to accomplish more, I can. I like moving things around in a room to find the sweet flow to it. The Husband and Molly the Cat, not so much. The Husband doesn't care for all the lifting, carrying, pushing, and pulling. I tell him it's exercise. Missy Girl simply dislikes the change, at first. I wish I could do all the moving with my mind. Isn't there a term for that? Yesterday I decided to move my sewing stuff to the other side of L Studio, and, in so doing, I discovered the fabric for my tunic that I've been wanting to sew for two years, but couldn't because, yeah, I had no idea where the material had gone. Hee-hee. DRUMMER DUDE I like the all-of-a-sudden, off-the-top-of-our heads, impromptu moments with the Husband. The other day I was throwing stuff in the green organic waste can 

I didn't make it out the front door today. When four o'clock swung around, I tossed my hand in the air. Tomorrow. I'll definitely do my errands; I don't care for the consequences if I don't. So, what did I so today? Paint stuff. Plant stuff. Help the Husband sort through boxes of his parents stuff. It was tough, but it is time to figure out what to do with all of their stuff, the Mama's stuff, the Husband's stuff, my stuff, and the Husband's and my stuff. Have I said this before? The boxes today mostly held stuff that belonged to Betty, the Husband's mom. Oh my gosh! We came across her graduation gown and cap when she earned her master's degree in her early 40s, her art work from her days as a school librarian, and letters from Betty to Jim while he was overseas serving in World War II. Two cigar boxes and shoe box full of letters!  Years ago we discovered Jim's correspondence to Betty. Oh my gosh, imagine, if they were put tog

Welcome to our havoc of a patio. The Husband calls it "lived in", the kind man. Most, if not all, of the placement of things on the patio was done by me. Thank you. That's not abandoned clutter, mind you. Nearly everything in sight is a work-in-progress of something, whether individually or collectively. They're all in different stages. Some, I grant you, are still at the starting line. For instance that brass lamp with many arms which friend Missus H gave me. I fell in love with it when I saw it hanging out in her barn. Not sure yet whether to dismantle the wiring. Towards the back end, by the miracle tree is a work-in-progress actually being worked on.  I pulled out the fence of twigs in the front yard by the sidewalk because it looked *gasp* messy. (That's right, these eyes of mine know messy from eclectic whimsy.) So, the Husband and I decided to make a sturdier fence. We've got two panels done. What do you think? I think they're cool. T

I'm taking apart the first album of the Mama's. Not her first one ever, but the first in a long line of albums. Sigh. What's with the so-called "acid-free/archival" pages in this album? The cellophane breaks apart when I take out the photos. So much for trying to use my hands with delicateness and refinement. For some reason-yet-to-be-identified, I'm saving the 3x5 pieces of paper (with a single punched hole) that were used as dividers between photos. The how-can-I-repurpose-this part of me has prevailed. I don't know what to do with the photos after I've scanned them. For that matter, what am I going to do with the scanned photos. May be why there are long intervals between scanning sessions. And, for a session to happen, I need to play my era of Rock & Roll and Latin music so I can wiggle and waggle in my chair, as I do this rather sad and joyful exercise of remembering stuff in photos.  For instance: the rainy wedding day of a cousin; o

Switchplates? You know: the plastic covers for the wall switches. I've decided to paint the switchplates in this house, along with the outlet wall plates. Not all at once, but one at a time when the mood strikes. So far I've painted three switchplates. There are a lot of switchplates and wall plates in our home. I'm hoping the Husband will join me in painting some.