Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

I did not think it was possible to have any more to add to this story, but that was before I got up this morning and checked the messages on my cell phone.

When I had my brain fart last week and ordered Comcast, I wrote down the instructions given me by the very nice man who sold me this bill of goods. “Do NOT call CenturyLink and cancel your phone until you have your modem and you are ready to go,” he said. “You will need your phone to call us if you have any problems and to activate the account.”

There was one voice mail message on my phone. It was from the CenturyLink telephone repairman who apparently called shortly after I put in my service request online. How I missed the call, I don’t know. I’m kind of glad I did:

Comcast put in a disconnect order for me and had my land line disconnected. This is wrong on so many levels that it boggles my mind. I hadn’t even connected with a person who could activate the work order to start our cable internet service yet, so why would they have my land line disconnected?

Whatever.

So now I have a disconnected land line. Thankfully, Comcast did not put in a disconnect order on our Internet, or I’d be without Internet.

I had a root canal scheduled for today (as if dealing with Evil Entities wasn’t enough). I had some errands to run and ended up at the endodontist’s half an hour early, so I thought I’d just finish this business while I waited for my appointment. You know, something to take my mind off of the oral surgery I was facing (which was actually a little more complicated than a simple root canal and involved an incision into my gum and stitches and an $800.00 down payment).

I dialed 1-800-XFINITY and selected the right buttons to put me through to the right person. Her name was Jamie. I explained all of the past few days to her, as briefly as possible. At this point, I was polite. I calmly told her that we wanted to cancel our work order, we’d changed our mind, and that I had to call from my cell phone because Comcast had managed to get my land line disconnected already. And, yes, I knew that I had authorized it but I didn’t understand why it was done before we got the cable Internet activated.

She pulled up our account and said. “You can’t cancel the work order. Your account is under one name.”

Say what?!

It’s only under my husband’s name.

I said, “ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?”

She assured me that she was not joking, that only Mr. Presley could cancel the work order.

I was no longer calm. *I* could call and activate this account, *I* could call and activate the work order, but *I* could not call and CANCEL the damn thing? What is wrong with this picture? I had to have his SSN# to open an account. How could *I* open the account if *I* could not close it?

She actually asked me if Mr. Presley was available to speak to.

I started calling her “honey” and “sweetheart” and I didn’t mean it in an endearing way. I wasn’t very nice when I told her that Mr. Presley worked for a living and he was not available. Of course, I put her on the defensive, but I forewarned her that I was already irate and why.

I hung up.

I called CenturyLink to see what they could do about hooking our land line back up. As mad as I was at Comcast, I thought it couldn’t get any worse. So with shaking hands, I punched in the number at 12 minutes to 10:00.

Enter China, a Customer Service person for CenturyLink. China looked up our account. Bad news: because I had a brain fart last week and decided to switch to Comcast and because Comcast had our land line disconnected by C-Link, our account with C-Link no longer existed. In order for us to get a land line reconnected, we would have to open up an entirely new account with an entirely new telephone number. China explained that unless the work order with Comcast was in place, Comcast owned our phone number.

She wanted to put me on hold, but it was now 3 minutes to ten and I really had to go. So she offered to call me at noon (“If you can talk then”) to work on fixing the mess. If she couldn’t reach me at noon, she would call me again on Monday morning, but she was shooting for the noon appointment.

I went in to have the root canal. That was fun. The endodontist cut open my gums and took one long look at the tooth with the infection before announcing, “That tooth is fractured. I have to pull it.”  Yes, dear readers: I donated a tooth today, on top of everything else. It’s not right in front, so you can quit sniggering.

The good news is that the $800 co-pay dropped to a $60 co-pay, effectively saving us a lot of money.

China called at noon. I held an ice pack in one hand and my cell phone in the other hand.

35 minutes later, we had a new CenturyLink Internet/telephone bundle with our same phone number because China worked magic (and asked her supervisor questions). We are going from 5mps to 12mps, we get a new wifi modem/router to handle the bumped-up speed, and it’s $30/month less than our old contract with the same company. Ten dollars a month cheaper than the package Comcast sold me.

Bad news: it can’t be connected until 12/6/12.

Good news: we get to keep the 5mps Internet until 12/6/12.

All that was left was canceling the work order with Comcast.

Oh, but wait – it gets better.

I waited for Don to get home so I could put through that call to Comcast. Our marriage has a few rules and one of those is this: I do all the business calling, setting up of accounts, and dealing with automated systems. Don doesn’t do that. Don doesn’t even own a cell phone. So in keeping with our unspoken set of rules, I made the call.

I got through to Bob. I explained to Bob who I was and what I wanted to do while Don waited for his turn.

Bob asked me one question, “What relationship are you to Mr. Presley?

“Oh, you’re his wife? Well, for security purposes, we have to verify who you are before we can go through with this. Do you know the last four digits of his Social Security Number?”

I rattled them off. Bob canceled our work order. I asked if he needed to speak to my husband because he was sitting right next to me.

Bob answered cheerfully, “Oh, no, we don’t have to do that. As long as you can answer the security questions, we’re good.”

Comcast: Bob needs a raise. Bob is a really great employee and he understands the concept of Customer Service.

CenturyLink: China deserves a raise. She deserves a promotion. She deserves to be Employee of the Month.Give her a Christmas Bonus, too.

I take back every nasty thing I’ve written about Qwest (CenturyLink) in the past. Comcast has been elevated to Evil Entity #1.

*The End*

Read Full Post »

I had a major brain fart this past month. I actually thought I could switch Internet Providers and save $20 a month for a year and I could be happy with that choice.

I had been debating this change for several months with my dear husband (who is pretty cool about whatever decision we were going to make) and my techie brother and my son. Nobody really was very helpful because there isn’t much to be helpful about:

Do I trade in the one Evil Entity (CenturyLink) for another Evil Entity (Comcast)?

Nobody had conclusive answers. they are both Evil. But my Qwest – er, CenturyLink – wireless modem keeps locking me out and Comcast had a better deal on the table, so I caved and called the cable company. I didn’t even have to wait on HOLD. In less than 10 minutes, we were signed up for Comcast’s “high speed internet” (the salesman never did tell me exactly how fast that high speed internet is) and their phone system. The new modem would be arriving via FedEx by Monday.

Tuesday afternoon I came home with a clanging migraine in my head. The new modem had finally arrived and was waiting to be installed. The instructions that came with the modem were generic and not specific to the modem we got. The manuals weren’t manuals at all, but some sort of advertising pamphlets with lots of reminders to call 1-800-XFINITY if we had any problems at all.

We muddled through the instructions and hooked the modem up.

Nothing.

The phone still worked because I still had not called CenturyLink to tell them we were jumping ship. So we had a phone but no internet.

And I had a migraine.

I called Comcast to activate service. They have one of those wonderful automated Voice Activated systems that we all love so much. I told it OPERATOR and it said, cheerfully, “So you want to speak with an associate? Is that correct?”

Then it put me on hold with a little recording that everyone was already busy and the wait was estimated to be about ten minutes.

My migraine made me hang up. I’d just call in the morning when I felt better.

Here’s a short synopsis of Wednesday:

6:50AM – voice recording that Comcast high speed internet is experiencing technical maintenance and if you are having a problem connecting, this is why. Please call later.

Because I am a good employee and I do not make long personal calls at work, either by cell phone or work phone, I waited until I was home to make this call. Besides, I was slammed at work and didn’t have time to make any personal calls. My husband doesn’t have access to a phone during work hours and he doesn’t do this sort of thing, anyway.

6:30PM – I call and get a live person. Yay! Greggor verifies I am who I am and looks up my account. “Hm. That’s interesting. Wonder why… I need to look into this. May I put you on hold?”

Sure. Why not. He can’t be gone for five minutes, right?

Fifteen minutes later (and I-don’t-know-how-many-replays of Flight of the Bumblebee later, there was a little click on the phone and the music changed. A feminine voice intoned, “All of our representatives are busy. Your expected wait time is over ten minutes.”

Say what?

I hung up and redialed, thinking that Greggor accidentally lost me. Someone else answered and I explained that I was talking to Greggor and he lost me. Instead of offering to reconnect me to Greggor, this person asked me all the verification questions again. Then she said, “Oh. I work in CABLE. You want INTERNET. Please hold while I transfer you.”

Cue:  “All of our representatives are busy. Your expected wait time is over ten minutes.”

I hung up and redialed. I pressed all the right buttons in the automated Voice Activated system, indicating that I wished to activate a new service and I was calling about high speed internet.

Repeat the above.

I hung up and redialed.

Repeat the above.

I sort of went off on him. Hung up. Went upstairs. Cooled off. Tried again. Got the voice message: “All of our representatives are busy. Your expected wait time is over ten minutes.”

I waited until 9:00PM when I figured volume would be down. Got through to someone named Isabella. She had a soft Hispanic accent. I explained to Isabella what I told the outsourced Entity. Isabella believed I was irate and did her very best to help me. She worked in CABLE (are we sensing a trend here?) but she didn’t try to put me through to the internet people. Instead, SHE looked up my account and she did it while I was on the phone. It did not take her 15 minutes, but took her less than 5.

“Oh. Your work order is not completed. I can’t do that. That has to be done during regular business hours. You will have to call back during regular business hours.”

For the record, Isabella deserves a raise. And a promotion. Comcast, get that woman off the phones and put her to work where she’s appreciated. She had the courtesy to tell me what I needed to know, even if it was unpleasant news.

I called Comcast from work this morning.

Repeat this scenario: “Hm. That’s interesting. Wonder why… I need to look into this. May I put you on hold?”

Sure. Why not. She can’t be gone for five minutes, right?

Fifteen minutes later (and I-don’t-know-how-many-replays of Flight of the Bumblebee later, there was a little click on the phone and the music changed. A feminine voice intoned, “All of our representatives are busy. Your expected wait time is over ten minutes.”

ARE YOU SERIOUS???

I acquired permission to call Comcast one more time on the work dime.

One can always hope, right?

I got this nice man, Pat. Pat listened to me as I explained how many people I had spoken to since Tuesday night and all I wanted to do was activate my account so I could have Internet and phone. And then Pat said he was in CABLE. But he understood how angry I was and he would personally make certain I got through to the RIGHT person. So he transferred me.

I waited about three minutes before someone picked up the transfer. Pleasant woman who listened to the whole story and then asked me to verify everything. And as I rattled off our phone number, she said…

“You’re in Oregon?”

“Uh – yes.”

“They transferred you to SEATTLE. I am in SEATTLE and I cannot access Oregon accounts. I can’t help you.”I hung up.

Here’s the summary of the past 3 days:

1. I have no computer at work and no idea when I will get one. My boss took a vacation day and let me use hers today. She may do that again on Monday. She has lots of vacation days, so this does not hurt her at all.

2. We have Internet, but it’s through CenturyLink. I promise to never lose my mind over this again. 3. I came home tonight and Don had hooked up the CenturyLink modem. But our phone line is now down. I put in a service request with CenturyLink. You know how that goes. (See my links above for those stories).

4. I have a root canal scheduled for tomorrow morning. On my way to the endodontist, I will drop off the Comcast modem and get a receipt for it. I’m not sure which is more painful: dealing with Comcast or going in for the root canal. I am certain you do not want the gory details on the latter but it involves peeling back the skin on my jaw and going in at the root from the bottom and then stitching the skin back in place.

5. I’d sooner have the root canal than deal with Comcast Customer Service again. And I thought I hated CenturyLink (Qwest).

Read Full Post »

It starts the day after Thanksgiving.

No, it isn’t Black Friday.

It’s Christmas Decorating Time. And I think I may have a problem.

No, the problem isn’t my incredibly small storage space. (This is what it looks like when all the Christmas boxes have been pulled out. Before the boxes are pulled out, you can’t see into it.)

And that is the problem. I have TOO MUCH CHRISTMAS STUFF for this house!

Pretty much every square inch of available space is taken over by Christmas. And while I am deeply spiritual about Christmas, a lot of my stuff is about Santa Claus.

I picked up this set of Lennox figurines depicting Saint Nicholas/Santa Claus for very little money at a charity auction one year. I absolutely love it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Each figurine is beautiful, but I really like the one of Santa and the little girl.

 

I even have retro Santa in plastic “stained glass” – I found these at a yard sale for a quarter. You can imagine my husband rolling his eyes.

Santa is everywhere in my little Christmas Village.

Santa even makes it to my front yard – with a couple of his reindeer and a sleigh full of toys.

Then there are Boy Scout tins. My son grew up and quit Scouts, but I can’t bring myself to discard the tins that popcorn came in.

(Okay – I store lights and ornaments in the tins)

The snowman has nothing to do with Scouts, but he fit in the corner with the tins.

I like Nativity sets, too. Even tacky ones, like this Eskimo Holy Family. I assume the eagle, the moose and the husky are the Magi and the baby seal is the equivalent of a lamb?

How about an African theme? No Mary or Joseph here, just a miraculous Baby Jesus/Mowgli in a land where lions lay down with zebras, giraffes and elephants.

Another African Nativity, but one that is not so tacky as it is simply stated.

You can’t see it in the photo, but the Babe has no hands.

It was a Nativity that my Grandmother Melrose hand-painted. When I inherited it, Jesus had been broken. I should just toss it, but it has my grandmother’s name etched under each piece.

A friend gifted the two Magi to me last year. I think they sort of round out the whole scene.

I do have a big Nativity scene, but it isn’t up yet. It takes up a lot of room and these days it is relegated to the loft, safe from dogs’ wagging tails.

I will set it up next weekend when we get the tree and put it up.

I really do not have room for everything. I couldn’t photograph it ALL because it is strung out through out the house.

I think I need help. I think maybe I have too much Christmas stuff.

Is that even possible? To have too much Christmas stuff?

(Don’t answer that.)

Read Full Post »

I wanted to pop in and let you all know I am still alive (assuming “you all” means more than one or two people who follow my blog). It’s November and I am (once again) participating in National Novel Writing Month. This year, I might actually make the 50,000 word requirement and I might actually like what I have written. So far, so good.

I’m on a roll and, creatively, it feels GOOD.

It means, however, that I do not have much time for blogging. I’ll just have to do that in December, after I finish my quirky little sci-fi novel.

In the meantime: have a very Happy Thanksgiving.

Read Full Post »

Some Odd Photos

I started this post a couple days ago and ended up writing about my mom instead. It’s so easy to get side-tracked.

I spent a couple days backing up all my digital photos and my (few) digital remastered photos. Of course, I found a few I really liked.

This old homestead is up on Hart Mountain, over on the east side. Hart Mountain is a fault-line mountain, rising gradually from the east and dropping off suddenly to the west. It’s the exact opposite of Steens Mountain, which is also a fault-line mountain, but Steens rises gradually from the west and drops off suddenly on the eastern side. Steens is a taller mountain, but Hart Mountain is not without its charms. Most of Hart Mountain is an antelope and wildlife refuge. The old homestead was located on Refuge land. (35mm, scanned and cleaned up)

I always wonder about the homesteaders: who were they and why did they give up? Did the water in the well dry up? Did they get tired of the icy winters and lack of firewood? Did the Great Depression drive them to town?

Mostly, I liked the patterns of the shadows and the texture of the wood.

(On a side note, we hadn’t gone five miles from the homestead when we busted one of the springs under the F-25o. It was over a hundred degrees and we had to unload everything to get to the wire in the bottom of one of the camp tubs. The chocolate melted in the cooler. Don wired the spring and we limped 90 miles into Burns where we had to buy a new spring. But that’s another story.)

I was having a blue day and Don took me for a walk along the Clackamas River, between Gladstone and Oregon City. I snapped quite a few photos that I still like. (digital photo)

More textures. It’s an old culvert sitting along the side of a road somewhere, waiting to be installed. I think it was along the 46 Road up above Estacada, but I can’t rememder. (digital photo)

That’s pronounced “es-ta-CAY-duh”.

We were picking huckleberries above Indian Henry Campground one lovely September. This huge bald-faced hornet’s nest was tucked into a vine maple. I had a nice telephoto lens for my 35mm. I’d forgotten that I scanned this and cleaned it up.

Another 35mm photo. I’m guessing it was February. The beaver ponds had flooded over their banks at the bottom of the horse pasture. The mist was just rising when I walked down to see if I could get some good photos. I’ve always liked this photo for the colors.

Film fades. This was taken along Utah Byway 128 in 1984, the first time we drove through there. it was very early morning and all the hills were purple, pink, orange. (35mm)

Same drive, different view. 35mm. I still think the 35mm captured the colors better than the digital camera does. I probably used Fuji film.

Wild flowering currants. I love the contrast in colors. (digital)

Long-nosed leopard lizard on a dead cow. Mickey Hot Springs, out in the Alvord country. The cow had been dead quite awhile and was mostly mummified, but this lizard was still making a living hunting bot flies. If you don’t know that’s  dead cow, it’s an interesting photo. If you know it’s a dead cow, well… I think the photo becomes more interesting. (35mm)

This isn’t a great digital photo, but it takes me back. Don and Samuel carrying our Christmas trees down off the hill. 2008. I just like the photo.

The trees were Charlie Brown Noble Firs. Pretty sad. The memories are precious.

Last one for tonight: A row of washed and weathered stumps along the flood line of the Clackamas River, looking east toward the old railroad bridge.

And that is a snapshot into my life. Be safe everyone. I am thinking/praying for the east coast tonight.

 

Read Full Post »

I paid for rocks today. It’s a crazy thing to do when you already have more rocks than you know what to do with, but there you go: I bought a bucket of rocks and paid for a couple rocks that have already been polished.

In my defense, I have a couple little projects that I couldn’t complete with the rocks I have in my own, personal, free collection. Nothing I own (or that my husband owns, which I own by default) quite fit the ends of a couple of “magic wands” I want to make, so I had to go out and find rocks that fit the wood.

And there’s the issue of the broken dragon I bought at Goodwill that I wanted to try to see if I could fix.

So when I got an email a couple weeks ago reminding me that this weekend is the Clackamette Gem and Mineral Show, I marked it on my calendar and notified my husband that I wanted to go. Not that he wouldn’t want to go, mind you: we’ve gone every year for probably 20+ years. We dragged our children to the rock and gem shows (great science class for homeschoolers: all about geology and rocks). There’s a black light show (some minerals glow in the dark or under black lights); plenty of rocks to bid on; a gi-hugic rock that you guess the weight of (and hope to win); plenty of beads, rocks, gems, and fossils to buy; and display cases of rock collections to vote on (Rock Club Member, Guest and Junior categories). Polished rocks, raw rocks, buckets of rocks, carved rocks. Rocks that sell for $3500.00 and rocks that sell for $0.25. Quartzite, moss agate, jade, crystals, picture rock, various kinds of obsidian, geodes, mica, coral, petrified wood, fossils.

I was looking specifically for a couple spheres and something to fit in to a larger grasp, like a moss agate or a quartz crystal.

I found a number of spheres, but they were a lot more money than I wanted to pay considering the piece of wood I wanted to attach them to was free and I am not sure how the project will look in the end. I do want to be able to sell my project(s) for more than they cost me to make.

I spent $4 on a bucket of rocks, $5.00 on a couple polished rocks that could work as substitutes of spheres, $2.00 on a lovely pink amethyst crystal, and too much on a sphere that I hoped would work with the above-mentioned dragon. I bid on a nice large quartz crystal, but someone out-bid me at the last moment. That’s how rock hounds are.

So here’s my haul:

I wish I was nerdy enough to tell you what all those rocks are, besides being the left-overs from a real rock hound’s collection. But I have forgotten nearly everything I ever knew about rocks: I just know what is pretty and what isn’t, and what is quartz or agate or obsidian. Looks like I need to invest in a good field guide and start teaching myself about rocks, doesn’t it?

I bought the bucket because I thought thas piece of moss agate would work well with the one magic wand/faerie staff.

It does fit. I could work with that.

But this fits, too. Amethyst crystals. I won this item in a bid.

This piece of moss agate was in the bucket. It could work, too. I don’t think the photo does it justice.

The sphere was too large for the dragon. The dragon had a broken horn, but you can’t tell because I glues a fake one on. It’s still broken and very fragile, however – a failure at fixing the dragon if I ever try to move it much. BUT – I found a small piece of quartz crystals in the bucket that fit just perfectly in his claws.

Not so much of a fail. Maybe this will work after all.

I have no idea what stone/gem this is, but the darn thing cost me more than I want to admit. It’s pretty.

And it does work in the smaller of the two magic wands/staffs that I am working on.

But so does this polished agate. I have some decisions to make.

One of the keys to looking at rocks is this: how does it appear wet? You know how it goes: you’re down on the beach, looking for pretty agates and seashells and you pocket all the ones you find. When you get home and dump out your pockets, the agates have dried and they are no longer as pretty as they were when you first saw them. You wonder why you ever picked them up.

That’s a nice piece of obsidian, by the way.

What is ordinary takes on a new beauty with the addition of water. It gives the serious rock hound an idea of what a gemstone or rock might look like, tumbled and polished.

I told my husband we need a rock tumbler and polisher.

He laughed at me.

I did not purchase this rock. I just added it to this blog because I am hoping someone will see and and will say, “I know what that is!!”

I picked it up in a mountain stream in the Oregon Cascades. I am certain it is fossils embedded in the quartz, but what fossils? What are those round things??

I don’t think they are cross-cuts of twigs because they do not appear to go straight through the quartz. But I could be wrong.

It’s a rather fascinating rock.

But I think most rocks are fascinating.

Read Full Post »

Judging by how silent my “blog roll” is, I am not the only blogger who is either suffering from “writer’s block” or who is laying low until the election is over to say anything again. It’s pretty quiet out there (except on Facebook, where everyone has an opinion and they don’t mind interjecting their opinion onto your wall).

But I am not here to bemoan the highly charged political atmosphere. I am here to celebrate one of my favorite holidays, and that holiday isn’t Election Day.

It’s All Hallow’s Eve, the night before All Saint’s Day. Samhain. Hallowe’en.

It’s a date that is as hotly debated in some circles as the current presidential election is being debated in 2012. For many years, I never openly told anyone that I celebrated the day: the church I was attending highly discouraged the practice. So we carved pumpkins and put them on display at home, but we didn’t share photos of our prizes with our circle of friends at church. I had a hard time with the “do not dress up” rule.

I was known to show up at the Harvest Festival with my wire whip and my nose pin. It did not amuse some of the church elders, but it wasn’t really “dress up” so… Or maybe they just realized that making it into an argument was not going to win me over?

I usually removed the nose pin after the initial shock of seeing me with it in had passed. The wire whip, however – that is a prized possession. (Portland Saturday Market. The artist still sells his wares there.)

Time has brought changes and I now openly celebrate Hallowe’en. I gave up on trying to fit my round self into the square hole of conformity. This decision has brought a little freedom into my world: I openly dress up on October 31st and I have a small collection of items that go on display to entice little Trick-or-Treaters to come to our front door for candy. I add a little bit every year.

I don’t do this for my grandchildren: they never came over on Hallowe’en when they lived close by, anyway. I do this for me, because I like to.

This year’s splurge was a trail of lighted “bones” to light the dark path to our house. We live on a poorly lit street and the hundreds of little creatures that come out to swarm the park two blocks away tend to avoid our dark street. I’m hoping that the combination of porch light on and bones to light the lawn will help attract a few more than our usual ten.

This is the candy table. The Orc (to the right of the witch, holding heavy “chains” makes loud growling sounds. The cauldron will be full of candy (can’t put it out until the 31st because of the dogs).

It should have an eerie effect if we turn off the lights when we open the door… (But we won’t, because we’ll be juggling big, friendly dogs that want to lick little kids and the cauldron of candy.

Tell me the lighted spiders are cool.

From left-to-right: I picked up the hands at Goodwill last year. Awesome. A rat begs beside the Cannibal jack o’lantern. Jake & Elwood (the Alien twins) decided to come outside this year. And I got a glow-in-the-dark skeleton for the doorbell hanger. That weird little candle stick holder up above the Alien twins was a yard sale find. I think it was someone’s high school pottery project gone wrong. Oh – and there’s a red-eyed rat down on the old root. (You have to click on the photo to see everything close up).

I consider the jack o’lantern a masterpiece. HAHA. I don’t think the little pumpkin on the left is very amused, though, and the one in jack’s mouth isn’t talking…

Spooky, huh? I couldn’t do this with my grand kids around. It is a little on the bizarre side, even for me.

I just spent the better part of an hour trying to upload a video to this post. It isn’t going to happen. YouTube doesn’t like the video and WordPress truncated the video. I’ve exhausted my options. Here’s the story behind the Video That Will Not Upload Properly:

I bought this broom from Avon. It takes four AA batteries. Turn it on, and it cackles in the most hideous voice. And it “dances”. It bumps into things, reverses, turns in circles, bumps into things, reverses. After about twenty seconds of torturous laughter, it stops.

And Harvey barks at it. Which sets it off, again.

It’s hysterical.

Murphy’s reaction was even funnier than Harvey’s. Murphy is certain the thing is possessed and must be destroyed.

This is one thing I wish my grandchildren were here to see. I know they’d drive me nuts, touching it again and again and again and again, just to listen to it cackle and watch it bump into things. It’s great.

Since I am on the subject of dress up, I found this mask at Goodwill. It was chipped and faded and beat up. I stripped the ribbon off of it and cleaned it up. I used some “Golden” that is in my bag of tricks and recreated the raised filigree design. I mixed some paint and repainted it, regilded it, and then I heated up the hot glue gun and replaced the ribbon and the “jewel”.

I wear glasses, so I don’t know when I would get to wear such a cool mask (and be able to see across the room), but it’s pretty!

I forgot I had these on once and went downstairs for something. My husband looked up and said, “Did you know your horn is flopping over?”

He didn’t say, “What is that on your head?”

He didn’t say, “What are you doing with that?”

He didn’t say, “Where did you get that?”

He just pointed out that one of the horns had leaned forward in an awkward angle.

Gotta love a man who is not surprised by his wife.

Read Full Post »

Old photos that bring back memories. I scanned these photos about 8 years ago and uploaded them to a photo sharing website. The site is closing down and I retrieved them before my albums are deleted. I do have them backed up elsewhere, but I wanted to have a second back up, especially of the ones that were originally taken with a 35mm. I scanned the photos and used a photoshop program to clean them up.

These photos remind me of my mom, because they were taken during that period of time.

The resolution on this one isn’t very high. It’s two photos, stitched together in a photoshop program. Also 35mm. 1993, if I recall right. Could have been 1994. We met my mom and dad in southeastern Oregon and camped a couple nights with them just across the border in Northern Nevada. This old stone house was built near a natural hot springs and we camped one night out there on the desert by it. I figured it was public land, since my dad was a Forest Ranger for years in that part of Northern Nevada. Or maybe he just knew the property owner and wasn’t worried about getting in trouble.

It was the last summer I had with my mom. The last chance my kids had to get to know her. She died in 1995.

She loved that old stone house and I think that was part of the reason we camped there. It was just flat alkali land with scrawny sagebrush and bitterbrush, a few brown hills on the horizon, and jack rabbits. The rabbit brush was tall near the house and hot springs, but otherwise, it was typical windswept Nevada alkali.

 

We took a road trip to Ely after Mom died in 1995. It was early August and most of my photos have never been scanned. We crossed the Santa Rosa Mountains on July 31st and the temperature dropped below freezing. There was ice on our flip-flops outside the tent in the morning. One night, we camped on the Pony Express Trail south of the Ruby Mountains. We just drove out into the tall sagebrush on an old Jeep trail and pitched our tent in a little aspen grove along a dry wash. We counted seven bands of wild horses around us, none any larger than ten horses. The horses were fat, well-built, and very skittish: true Mustangs, not feral horses. I remember telling my dad about them (still awestruck by how close we’d come to some of those beauties) and he told me – for the first time ever – how many times he had come upon true Mustangs in the wild.
It was the first time that my dad told me that he loved horses. He had always left me with the impression that he didn’t like the creatures and that he hated the wild ones. The truth was very different from the impressions of my childhood. He didn’t like feral horses and he didn’t like people who didn’t take care of their horses. But he loved the wild ones.
It wasn’t just the horses. The coyotes came down in the night and serenaded us: a pack of them, ki-yiing all around us. Our dog whined and tried to crawl under the blankets, shivering in fear. In the morning, while the kids slept in and Don hiked, I had a cup of coffee under a scrubby aspen tree. I sensed something and looked up: a mule deer doe was standing five feet from me, not blinking.
“Hello,” I said. “I’m having coffee.”
She stood there a long minute, processing this strange interloper and the odd structure in her wash before she decided she should turn and bounce away. I love how deer bounce.
We held my mom’s memorial service in early August. I think it was the 3rd of August. Stayed a few days and headed back north, still camping along the way.
I wanted to take Don through Secret Pass in the Rubies. It was my mother’s favorite bypass over. There was a range fire. I made him pull over so I could snap a photo of the rising smoke.
We camped on the Alvord on the way home, up at Pike Creek. Of course, there’s always a drive on the playa involved. I caught this sunrise. I just liked how the shadows played.
What is a trip to the Steens country without a cattle drive? My mom loved cattle drives. Even liked getting stuck in them. I don’t mind getting stuck in them. Look at all those pretty Herefords. Oh – there’s a black one in there. Gotta mix in the Angus.
Mostly, we sat in camp at Pike Creek and stared down at the Alvord Ranch and the playa, basking in the hot August sun. I was in mourning and I don’t remember much of the little things we did. It was one of those summers when there was a lot of alkali on the dry lake bed and some wild winds. The dust devils were large and spectacular.
In all honesty, I have never seen a storm like this again. It is my absolute favorite photo of a dust storm on the Alvord, and it will forever remind me of my mother because of when I took the photo.
And, yes, I see a sort of “Hell’s Angel” on a motorcycle in the dust. What do you see?
I had no intention of going down this road tonight, but there you are: sometimes you just end up on the path you take.
She was 14. Her waist was probably 14″, too. <sigh>
Mine isn’t.

Read Full Post »

Introspective

I spent most of today cleaning out and re-organizing my studio. It was a mess. It’s not a very large room, and gets rather crowded quickly. Today’s purge and cleaning was not only long over-due but the mess was not conducive to creativity.

I still have a stack of mail on my desk that needs to be looked at and a box of 2012 filing that needs to be done, but I feel like I reclaimed some of the floor space!

Of course, no matter how I do it, I have very limited wall space.

            As you can see – every available inch of vertical wall space is pretty much taken, and most of it is taken with storage.

That’s OK – I’m not complaining. You choose to live in a little house, you learn to live with the storage challenges. As it was, I purged a number of items and boldly put them into the trash (or recycle) bin or I set them aside to donate to Goodwill.

Doing this presented some challenges. I moved some furniture around. I asked myself why I keep some things. And I tried to present an interesting photo op for my blog (did you see that coming?)

For instance, I hand-picked what drawing should be on the little easel. I could just put the little easel away, but there’s an oil painting sitting on it that I really need to finish. I didn’t want to show the unfinished oil painting because it’s really, really, really in the amateur stage. I may even toss it out.

So I picked this silly pastel portrait of Lucky Dog and Teddy Bear, life-long friends. They’re actually inside a box somewhere in my attic. Lucky Dog was a promo stuffed animal for the very first release of the original Disney Movie, “101 Dalmatians”. I lost Lucky Dog for an entire year once. Then someone (I think my brother) found him in a vacant lot a couple blocks from our house, just a little worse for wear. We’ll never know what adventures he went on for that year, but I was so very happy to have him home again! And when I was 15, my mom very carefully resewed his body with new spotted faux fur. His stuffing and eyes are original.

Teddy Bear went to college with me. He also dropped out with me. He married Pinky Cat, my sister’s very favorite stuffed animal. We baked a heart-shaped cake and frosted it with pink frosting, but it turned out to be more of a pink-and-white frosting because we forgot to sift the powdered sugar. My sister, my childhood best friend, and I were in attendance as were all the stuffed animals and Breyer horses we owned. It was a big wedding.

I wonder what ever happened to Pinky Cat?

Teddy has only had one eye for several decades now. He’ll be 56 years old in a couple weeks. Lucky Dog is 51.

The little easel was hiding these terrariums. I bought them at some yard sale. I didn’t really want the terrariums, but they were a package deal with some other item at that yard sale that I really wanted, and so I had to take the whole lot. I only paid a couple dollars. The bonus to cleaning my room is that I had sudden inspirations: I have the beginnings of two glass faerie houses, complete with macramé hangers! Oh, the wheels are rolling! I’ll make the faerie houses and the resident faeries, and then I’ll sell them. They can either go as a set or individually. I’m really excited about this idea! The materials I need for the project have already been purchased and are being stored (conveniently) inside the glass terrariums.

The Dead Fly Pub was my first Faerie house. I can’t bear to part with it. Mavis is the Goblin waitress and Petrick is a regular. Baba Yaga in the background has nothing to do with the Dead Fly Pub, but she doesn’t clash.

I love shadow boxes! I have two and I don’t have any free walls to hang them both on. I collect things that I think I will eventually use in a creation (like the old glasses and sunglasses).  Some things just have sentimental value (a jar full of Arwen’s baby teeth. I don’t have a jar of Levi’s baby teeth because he swallowed them. True story). And some things are just cool, like the folding opera glasses.

Two stories here: the Japanese float belonged to my mother. She had two of them. I remember when my mom found the floats on the beach out of Seaside, Oregon. My brother has the larger one, but I liked this one which is a bluer hue.

Noah’s Ark. No, that isn’t my oil painting. That is my son’s oil painting. He painted it at a homeschool coop class nearly11 years ago.

(Those are dried hydrangea flowers hanging from the ceiling)

Did I mention I like shadow boxes? I have a collection of old Pepsi crates that I have used as shadow boxes. Now they do duty as storage for the many jars of beads and buttons that I use. The Man-in-the-Moon is a fragment of fiberglass that I found up in the woods where some contractor just dumped his trash. I hate the contractor for his dump, but I salvaged that little fragment because of the shape. I etched the Man-in-the-Moon into it. The canes came from my great-grandfather’s estate.

The horse was Chrystal’s but she left it here. I haven’t decided what to do with it. Yet. But rest assured, when I am done with it, it won’t look much like that.

(Don’t you love the vintage suitcase?)

The Locker! Isn’t that a classic? We went to a yard sale put on by the local high school and came home with several treasures, one of which was this locker. It was Levi’s until he moved completely out. Not it is mine.

It is great storage space!

 

We used to have a stero system. We bought it “on time” through Fingerhut. Remember them? The thing died after about 15 years, but we kept the cabinet. I recently converted it into a sort of curio cabinet. My mother’s glass shoes, a vase from my mother’s china hutch; a collection of salt-and-pepper shakers that my Very Best Friend, Rosie, wanted me to have from her huge collection; and my “Painted Ponies” collection fill the interior of it.

The horse on the top of it was a gift from a neighbor girl many, many years ago. She was younger than both of my children. We all lived in a little trailer park and I had a horse in the pasture next to us. When the little girl’s parents bought a house in town and they moved away, she brought me this prized possession of hers as a “thank-you” for the few times that I gave her a ride on my horse. I truly treasure that horse.

Chrystal painted the bunny with the sun dial.

Levi painted the flower pot that holds the tiny glass float. I no longer remember where I picked up the tiny float, but it’s a genuine Japanese float.

This is an unfinished oil painting that I am actively working on. I need to finish the foreground and the highlights on the bushes. Early sunrise at Pike Creek Trail Head on Steens Mountain. It’s been a stretch for me: I did a lot of palette knife work on this. I’ve never worked with the palette knife before.

This corner is a bit of a mess. I have frames and canvases stored in the boxes that Banker’s Boxes come in. I can’t think of a neat way to store the over-sized stuff. But I did think to prop an old oil painting up on them, to sort of take away from the ugliness of the cardboard, and the crowd of tool boxes. The painting is of Don’s last dog (before Murphy): Rejoys Hannah’s Promise, better known as Sadie. She was the brown-and-white English Pointer in the center of the litter. Dumbest Dog that ever lived and I miss her so! We had her for 10 years before cancer claimed her.

I have to share this. It’s just so cool! I’ve had it for 3 decades. The little boxes are the size of matchboxes and they hold such office “essentials” as: gummed labels, paper clips, rubber bands, mending tape, gummed patches, and key tags. Tell me that isn’t the coolest (and most useless) thing! I can’t bear to part with it because it is just so fun.

This is my other shadow box. My friend, Audrey gave it to me. I still have empty slots to fill. My dad’s flag and my mom’s glass boot, a “good luck” cat (also from Audrey), some miniatures in polymer clay that I made and painted, a broken piece from an old cast iron wood stove, and the list goes on.

Something I would never buy myself: my boss gave it to me one Christmas. I appreciate that she chose unicorns (as close to horses as she could get at the Dollar Store). I keep it because the thought was so sweet.

My assistant. I put his bed out in the loft while I worked and he still came and laid down in the middle of the floor while I worked. He was quite happy when I finally moved his bed back into the studio.

And for the heck of it: my current project. I picked up this mask for $0.25 at Goodwill. The gilding had been knocked off as had some of the raised design. I used some “golden” and reapplied the design, and then I painted it. I still have to glue on the rick-rack and ribbon. I’m very pleased with how it is turning out.

Thank you for stopping by and reading. This post was a bit introspective and I’ll be thrilled to think someone actually bothered to read it all. Maybe it gives you an insight into how I think. Or how cluttered I am.

I really did throw things away.

OH! I found this when I was rearranging the locker:

That had to be circa 2002. It’s from Levi’s college Swing Dance course. Made me smile.

We won’t talk about the decapitated and mutilated plastic Army men I found in the same drawer.

I emailed my son and asked him if there was anything about his childhood that we needed to discuss…

Read Full Post »

Hallowe’en and Harvey

I love Hallowe’en. I can’t tell you why. OK – I can tell you why I like Hallowe’en: it’s dress-up time. And I love dress-up.

I’m not really into the whole witches-ghosts-nightmare stuff. I read Alfred Hitchcock when I was a kid, but nowadays I’d rather not be startled or frightened. I’d rather Hallowe’en was about Boo Radley saving Scout and Jem than it is about scary stuff.

So it is that my Hallowe’en decorations tend to focus around things like lights, pumpkins, jack o’lanterns, spiders, bats, and rats.

Not living rats! I abhor real, living rats. I’m more into the R.O.U.S. sort of rat or the squooshy rubber rat.

I’m really not into cutesy spiders. Spiders ought to look a tad more threatening.

The disembodied hands are a favorite. I think Harvey looks a bit unsettled, don’t you think?

“Oh, good little puppy, let me just scratch your little chin…”

“What a good puppy.”

Seriously, Mom? Would you quit flashing that light in my face?

Back to Spiders. They ought to look somewhat threatening. Everyone is so afraid of spiders and sticky spider webs.

Get.It.Off.Me.

I think Harvey was beginning to sulk!

So I brought out the BIG spider. The “umbrella” spider, as I call it. It put one or two of its legs over Harvey and tried to smile for the camera.

Harvey was having none of it.

What a party pooper!

OK, so I will try the WITCH.

Harvey shows some interest, finally.

Hi There! You smell kind of nice. I like the hat. The wart is a nice touch.

You look like you need a doggie kiss. Doggie kisses make it all better.

I eat my own poop, so my breath should smell wonderful to a witch like you!

Aw, Mom! I will love him, and hug him. and squeeze him, and I will call him George!

Can I keep him?

(Apologies to Hugo the Yeti, who first said those immortal words)

 

 

Read Full Post »

« Newer Posts - Older Posts »