Easter dinner - April 6, 2026

Friday morning, The Husband asked, "Do we want to do Easter dinner?"

I gave him an honest answer:  "Not really."

I'd been grocery shopping on Thursday but had not bought stuff for a big Easter dinner.  In fact, I hadn't fully realized that Easter Sunday was THIS weekend.  

The Husband shrugged and said, "Okay."

Later that day, I went out to pick up a prescription, and while I was out, I decided to stop by the grocery store for a ham.  We hadn't had ham for a while.  A good-sized ham would provide breakfasts, lunches, and dinners for several days, plus we could share some with Nanny.  

Saturday morning, Nanny called to see if we wanted to do Easter dinner.  I caved, and spent the rest of the weekend cooking.  Made dressing, sweet potato dumplings, green beans with mushrooms, pasta salad, and a pineapple cream cheese pie.  Nanny committed to a corn casserole and three pies.

It was all delicious, if I do say so, myself.  ;)

But I was pissy the whole weekend.  Dinner was not my idea, and I knew who of the "we" would be doing the cooking and cleaning.  And there were other things I wanted to do.  

Dinner came off without a hitch.  We had a good crowd.  There were few left-overs.  

I baked another ham yesterday.

* * * * * * * 

Some of the ginseng I planted is coming up!  

Two of the lantanas I planted last year have come back!

It's time to turn attention to the vegetable garden.  Last year's landscape fabric and cardboard are still on the ground and needs to be taken up, regardless of whether or not I plant a garden.  I should get to that this week.  First, I'll have to deal with the two fire ant mounds in the garden.  The Husband has agreed to help me with that this evening.  I can think of a few more garden chores for him while I have his assistance.

Rudbeckia - April 2, 2026

My sister, my niece, and I share a running three-way text   The topic is mostly gardening-related.  For example, all of us intend to cut back our garden phlox when they are about yay-high, but we always forget about it until they're about ready to bloom, so we skip it.  Yesterday, I took my clippers on my afternoon walk-about and lit into my phlox - not all of them, just the ones in front.  (I'm shooting for a layered effect.)  Remarkably, I also remembered to text the others that I did it so that they would be reminded to prune theirs.

If their phlox don't get cut back this year, it ain't my fault.  😉

Today's exchange included plant offerings.  Sister has phlox to share (I declined), niece has rudbeckia.  I spoke up for the rudbeckia and picked it up on my way back from the grocery store.

Niece works hard on her yard, and it shows.  

I planted the rudbeckia the minute I finished putting the groceries away.  Put some in the "new" sunny bed, started last year when the tree collapsed and let it some light; some went at the edge of the phlox bed. There is no telling how many times I've bought and planted rudbeckia.  Not one has ever come back or made babies, that I know of (I could've pulled them up, thinking they were weeds).  Niece's rudbeckia has come back bigger and stronger than last year.  Maybe this variety can survive here.

When it was time to water the new plants, I decided to hook up the water hoses.  Last year, I made an effort to rig up enough hoses to water everything that needs watering.  Bought new hoses, and a double-barrel diverter.  The hoses where right where we'd left them last fall, still attached to the diverter.  When I finally got everything connected and turned the water on, it blew a piece off the diverter, and water spewed all over me.  I said some nasty words and turned the water off.  

I was about to get a watering can when I realized that it was sprinkling rain.  It's raining slowly now.  Looks like Mother Nature might take care of the plants today.

Wednesday, April 1, 2026

The back porch is a fine place to be this morning.  The temperature is perfect, the sun is shining, the birds are singing.  Around sunrise, I heard turkeys gobbling in the bottom behind the house.  

About the time I heard the turkeys, I heard some thrashing around in the leaves at the edge of the gulley.  I got up to look.  The light was so dim I couldn't see very well, but I believe it was Jose, the armadillo.

Jose can thank his lucky stars for my intervention a couple of weeks ago.  The Grandson came hurrying into the house and said he'd just seen the armadillo in the yard, and he asked if he could use the shotgun to off it.  I said, "Well, let's think this through."

It was 8 p.m.  The neighbors are accustomed to hearing gunfire after dark, but only after hearing distant hounds bray in pursuit of a raccoon (at which point some will think, Got 'im!).  Nanny would be dialing our number within seconds of a blast from our yard.

"Plus," I said, "I'm not sure I want Jose offed."  I told him about the fire ant nest built last summer against a stump at the edge of the yard, just down the hill from the shed under which the armadillo resides.  The day after I discovered the nest, I discovered that something had dug into it.  I poked it with a stick and didn't see ants boil out of it and concluded that Jose must've had a midnight snack.  I applauded his work.  I had intended to poison the ants but hated to do it because the stump is just up the hill from the pond where the frogs, turtles, and snakes live.

"So maybe we need to let him hang around.  I'd rather have holes than fire ants in the yard and poison in the pond."  

The Grandson whole-heartedly agreed.  Jose lives on.

But I digress.

After such a pleasant early morning, things went downhill when I tried to pay a bill electronically.  This happens EVERY MONTH, and it is NOT ME; it's the outfit's janky web site.  I'm waiting on a voice call to straighten this out.  

While waiting on that call, I accomplished a "round tuit" task.  The Husband and I have agreed that we need to replace our bathroom tub with a big shower that will accommodate old persons with physical or mental issues.  We're not there yet, but it's coming one day.  There are a million things we'd rather do than live through a renovation, and so we haven't been exactly diligent in pursuit of someone to do the work.  Today, I finally called somebody to come give us an estimate.

Go, me.  

I had planned to go to the grocery store today, and maybe scope out the garden center, but I may have talked myself out of it.  

Might make jewelry, instead.  

I got the info for the local farmers market and fall festival.  I'll have to be deciding soon whether to go for it.  As of today, my inventory is such that if I sold every single piece on display, I might make enough to pay for one hobby store trip.  Better get crackin'.

Recharging - March 30, 2026

Mid-morning Saturday, as The Husband was watching videos in his recliner, I said to him, "You should go crank the lawnmower."  

Our yard was getting plumb scary; I'd resorted to watching for snakes as I moved about.  

Note that I did not say to The Husband, "You need to mow the yard."  I just suggested that he crank the lawnmower."  And went back out to watch videos on the porch.  

A regular reader might remember that last year, I vowed to stay off the lawnmower after being driven crazy by Nanny and running over a mole trap in her yard, the same day I also vowed to stay out of the vegetable garden.

Surprisingly, it wasn't long before The Husband came out and said he was going to crank the lawnmower, which lives in the big workshop at Nanny's.  

Despite my vow, I said, "Well, if it cranks, drive it up here, and I'll mow the yard, if you want me to."   

It cranked.  He mowed our yard and then said he was going went to mow Nanny's yard.  

I said, "Good luck!!"  😁

He came home about two hours later, dropped into a chair on the porch, and said, "I wanted to choke Nanny."  

😁😂😄

And I just laughed and laughed.

* * * * * * * * 

The Grandson and his BFF have volunteered to till the vegetable garden plot at Nanny's.  The BFF reportedly wants to try out the Big Black tiller (who can fathom what goes through 18-year-old boys' minds?); The Husband figures The Grandson wants to drive the tractor.

I gave The Grandson a list of obstacles they would face:

1.  The tiller pull crank broke last year, and although I bought a new one, no one has installed it.  However, it has an electric starter, if they can get some electricity to it; 

2.  There is a buttload of cardboard in the garden, which probably could be tilled into the soil, but also a buttload of landscape fabric which must be taken up before any tilling is done;

3.  The t-posts holding up the tomato fence has to be taken down;

4.  The tiller probably has a flat tire; and

5.  There are probably fire ants in the garden, probably some under the cardboard and the landscape fabric.

The longer I talked, the more his face drooped.  

We'll see if any tilling gets done.

* * * * * * * * 

Last week, I made several nice pieces of jewelry, mostly earrings and bracelets, that I deemed worthy enough to sell.  As I finished each piece, I put a tag on it and priced it, in case I get up the nerve to actually try to sell it.  The collection is growing, and I'm feeling motivated to make more, so this morning I made a call to the local park & rec to inquire about vendor booth space at the Saturday market (I'm waiting on a call back).   My BFF says I am pricing things too low, but her demographic market isn't the same as mine.  

Junk Drawers - March 26, 2026

I'm on the back porch, trying to twist up a tulip poplar leaf using 20 and 26 gauge wire.  

There's something about this activity that opens up a little-used chunk of my brain, where fragments of old home movies are stored.  Today, it showed my 5-year-oldish self, sitting in a chair in front of the kitchen junk drawer, twisting wire.  I hadn't seen that movie in quite some time.  ;)

In my recollection, the junk drawer was about a foot deep and very hard to open, and when it did open, it did so with a monstrous squeak.  (One could not sneak into the junk drawer.)  It must have held all sorts of things, but what I remember most are colored wires and nuts/bolts/washers and wire pliers.  Daddy was always working on something; those things lived in the junk drawer.  There was entertainment value in them - a "matching" game and a "make something" game.  Daddy probably didn't mind me putting bolts and washers onto nuts, but he wasn't particularly happy about having his wire twisted up into primitive sculptures.  

End of movie.  :)

But while it was playing, I did manage to make a passable tulip poplar leaf.  There are things I'll do differently the next time around, but it's not bad for a first try.

Speaking of kitchen junk drawers, in ours I recently found a disposable 35mm camera that was labeled "use by April 2009."   All of the film had been shot.  I'm guessing the pictures were from a cruise I'd gone on with my BFF.  I'd run across that camera before and had always said, "I need to take these to be developed."  I finally did that yesterday.  The drug store film counter guy raised his eyebrows when he saw the label.  I said, "Yeah...I know."

Knotted up - March 24, 2026

Time for a break.

I am trying to make a macrame bracelet with leather cord and hemp string that have lived in my craft stash for upwards of 20 years.  The leather has spent all this time wrapped around a 2" wide cardboard spool, and it is somewhat set in its ways.  The hemp is coming from a ball that came unwound in the drawer and attached itself to a bundle of pipe cleaners; it is somewhat frayed.  I should have cut 2 feet off the end before I started weaving, but I didn't, and I frayed it even more taking stitches out.  But I am pressing on with it and calling it "organic" or "rustic."    Heh..."primitive."

Yesterday, I made two other bracelets (no macrame) out of that leather cord.  They came out rather nice.  I then tried another of a different style, but that one got the better of me.  It uses four 8-inch cords.  The leather wanted to curl, and I could not corral the ends long enough to tie the knots.  I finally just walked away.  It is on the kitchen table, mocking me as I walk by.  Maybe I'll give it another shot tomorrow.

But, regardless, I'm done with this leather cord.  With this macrame bracelet, I have used it all up and have several pieces of jewelry to show for it. Check mark in the "win" column.  

Next, I will tackle the roll of suede leather cord, which will be a whole new ballgame.

@*&!&%! Sweetgum Balls - March 23, 2026

This time of year, our back yard is a wildflower field - henbit, chickweed, dead nettle, wild violets, dandelions, and some unidentified tall yellow things.  We let them grow for a while to feed the bees, until the yard gets too shaggy to stand.  We're almost there.  The blooms are beginning to fade.  Saturday morning, I dragged the wagon around the yard, picking up sticks so we could mow.  We never got to the mowing.

The front yard is a minefield of sweet gum balls.  We'd already raked them up earlier in the spring, but recent storms have littered them again.  After hauling a few loads to the gulley, I gave up and made a burn pile.  Right in the front yard.  As older women are prone to saying these days, "I just don't care" if there's a blackened spot in the yard.  It'll disappear soon. Or not.  I don't care either way.

When I gave out from raking, I cranked the weedeater and chopped down the winter-burned monkey grass and the beebalm stalks I'd left standing for the birds.  Raked leaves off flower beds.  While I was doing around, The Husband showed up to clean off the patio, dispose of a fence panel that had collapsed, and.haul away my weedeating debris.  We worked for several hours, but it doesn't look much different around here.  I'm still waiting on the lawnmower, which The Husband will probably have to boost after it has sat un-cranked all winter.

Not long after we quit the yard, Nanny called to report that her water heater was leaking.  The Husband went to see about it.  They ended up calling a plumber (one that we have not previously used) who said the water heater could not be repaired and we'd have to get a new one.  He said it would be Tuesday before he could install it.  The Husband thought the plumber said it would cost $900, which we thought was a tad high.  Yesterday, Nanny called to say that the water heater was still leaking (well, duh) and that she could not afford $1,900 for a new water heater.  The Husband called the plumber to confirm the price.  Nanny was right.  $1,900.  When I heard this price (I was not privy to the original discussion), I nearly had a stroke.  The big box stores sell them for a fraction of that price.  The Husband told the plumber to hold off on ordering the new heater, planning to check with the local hardware store.  Later that afternoon, when I told Son #1 about the problem, he volunteered to install the water heater.  Son #2 dropped by later and also volunteered his help.  It's good to have folks in the family who know how to do stuff.

Sunday evening, Granddaughters 2 and 3 came over here carrying a formal dress to be altered for Granddaughter #1 who is to attend a black-tie gala this coming weekend.  The neckline of the dress is low and closes with hooks and eyes at the back of the neck, like a halter top.  #1 is rather buxom and is worried about compromising herself at the party.  She wanted me to take off about an inch on either side of the closure.  I did the best I could.  She will be advised to wear her hair down, and hide a couple of safety pins on her person just in case.

While moving around the yard this weekend, I noticed that the wild violets have started to bloom. I picked a few blooms, along with some tiny, unidentified star-shaped white flowers, and put them in silica powder to dry. It'll probably take only a couple of days since they're so tiny. I tried drying some creeping myrtle blooms last week. They turned almost black. I tried another batch and only left them for one day, but they still turned almost black. Some redbud tree blooms turned out nice and are perfect for use in resin jewelry. 

I have not been very ambitious - or at least not very productive - in the jewelry-making department for the past few days. Friday, I tried to do a herringbone weave around a resin cabochon, intending to make a bracelet with it. The "stone" kept slipping around, and I bent the wires all to heck trying to put it back in place. Started over several times, then gave up and moved on to the band part of the bracelet. Made a mess out of that, too. I finally came up with a bracelet that is okay (but not 100% satisfactory to me), but it is not close to what I was hoping to make.

Today, I plan to work on some stalled projects.  I've been trying to transfer laser printer images to air-dry clay, but nothing has worked out well so far.  Some new transfer paper came in the mail last week; I want to see how it works.  And there's a half-finished leather bracelet on the worktable that needs finishing.  Time to get to work!

Yesterday, I spent almost the whole day trying to make a pair of earrings like the one in in the tutorial I was watching.  The whole day.  

When I threw in the towel, I'd assembled ONE PAIR of earrings.  One pair.  And that one resulted from the very first attempt, beginner's luck, I reckon.  

They were wire-twisted earrings - three loops at the top leading to a loose spiral on either side - with a tear-drop dangle at the bottom and a tiny accent bead up near the loops.  I used some "junky" beads since this was just a practice piece.  They came out mostly okay, but I'd scratched the coated wire making the spirals.  I tried again.

Here's the thing about a PAIR of earrings:  they should match.  The goal was to produce two earrings of identical size/shape.

It is very hard.

At the end of the day, I had one scratched-up pair of earrings, and a bowl full of wire loops and spirals, no two of which were the same.

I shall try again.  But maybe not today.

The telephone rang about suppertime last night.  The caller wanted to know if I could draw a catfish standing up, wearing a wig, a bikini top, and a skirt.  "He wants it to look like a hooker," the caller said.

I didn't ask too many questions.

But as soon as I hung up, I grabbed a sketch book and a pencil and started drawing.  

The distinguishing thing about a catfish is its head - the wide, flat shape, the permanent malevolent grin, the lethal whiskers.  Putting a wig on it kind of hides its whole persona.  In the end, it looked like an ugly cartoon mermaid.

Thirty minutes later, I texted the sketch to the caller, with the comment, "She needs big hoop earrings and a tattoo."  

No word yet on what the end "customer" thought about it.  

I do not care.  It was a freebie.  You get what you pay for.  ;)  

Plus, it was kind of fun to pick up a pencil and paper after weeks of pliers and wire.  

And now there's a sketch book and a mug full of colored pencils within reach . . . . 

Maybe I'd rather draw that make earrings.  ;)

Orange Guy - March 18, 2026

High on the east wall of our bathroom is an octagonal window.  A redbird has been flinging himself against this window for the past couple of weeks.  This happened ten years ago, too (though, presumably, not by the same redbird).  It would wake us up at daybreak, fluttering and scratching against the window.  At first, I wondered if the bird could see straight through our bedroom and out the west window and thought he could fly through it, but closing the bathroom door (so he couldn't see straight through) didn't deter him.  

I tried taping scary faces on the window.  Didn't work.

Nothing worked, until Orange Guy took on the job.

Orange Guy was The Grandson's bathtub toy.  I think he came in some "happy meal."  Last week, before we went out of town, I briefly searched the bathroom for Orange Guy but did not find him.  I figured he was in the house, somewhere (for I would never have thrown him away).

When we came home from our trip, there was a rubber snake draped across two small vases that now occupy the sill of the octagonal window.  This snake (one that glows in the dark and will grow to great lengths if you soak it in water for a long time), another bathtub toy, still lives in my tub.  I did not put that snake atop the vases, nor did The Husband.  Only The Grandson, who was home alone while we were gone, could have done it.  

I laughed when I realized what had happened.  While we were gone, The Grandson had heard the noise, investigated, and thought perhaps the snake would scare the bird away.  (It didn't work.)  I've been meaning to ask him about it, but he's been in and out, and I forgot to ask him until last night.

"Yes! That bird nearly drove me crazy," he said.  

His face lit up at the mention of Orange Guy.  When I said that Orange Guy is probably still around, he jumped up and went to the toy closet.  After some rattling and thumping, I heard a shot of joy.  Orange Guy has been found!

The redbird has laid off the window for the past few days (it's been too cold for him to pick fights, I guess) but if he shows up again, Orange Guy will be on the job.

* * * * * * * * 

You'd be proud of me just now if you could've seen what just happened.  I knocked over my coffee cup, and did not try to save the 10% off coupon from a bead store before it got soaked.  This proves my resolve to not buy any more freakin' beads until I use up some of what I already have.

I MEAN IT.

Yesterday, after I came home from the hobby store with a stack of bead boxes (and a few new stands of beads), I forced myself to sit down and sort my beads one last time.  Six boxes, and could use a couple more.  

Now, I have no excuse not to get to work.

Still Cold - March 17, 2026

I was supposed to go to the grocery store yesterday morning, but it was 32 degrees and the wind was whipping like crazy, and I was warm in my jammies and just plain did not want to go.  So I didn't go, even though the refrigerator was virtually empty.  

It's cold again today, but I bucked up and went out.  

Unfortunately, I also went to the hobby store.

Y'all, it's a sickness.

 I spend way too much money on craft stuff.

Recall that just last week, I went to an honest-to-goodness bead store in Chattanooga and spent too much money.  The entire haul fit into a little bag too small to hold two hamburgers.  To top it off, I went to Michael's and spent some more money.

Today, I did it again - bought a stack of bead storage boxes and re-stocked my wire supply.  

If you hear rumors that I've bought more jewelry-making stuff, shame me publicly.

BRRR! - Monday, March 16, 2026

Following a week or more of 70+ degree temps, a storm came through last night and the temperature dropped like a rock.  This morning, it's in the low 30s, and the wind is blowing like crazy.  I'd planned to go to the grocery store today, but I dunno . . . . 

Earlier in the week, The Husband had a work-related trip to Chattanooga.  I went along for the ride.  While there, I went to a bead store and spent way too much money for a little bag of sparkly things.  When we got home Friday afternoon, I spread my haul out on my worktable and wondered what in the world I was going to do with it.  I'd vowed that I was going to USE UP ALL THIS OLD STUFF I'VE HAD FOREVER; the new stuff didn't really go with anything I already had.  

* * * * * * * * 

I found a tick on my butt yesterday morning.  It had probably been latched on since Saturday, when I'd been out in the yard a good bit.  This morning, there's a hard, itchy knot where the tick was.  

Experments - March 9, 2026

I have developed a burning desire to transfer laser-printed images to air-dry clay.  Yesterday, I spent the whole day trying (without success) to do it.

There are several video tutorials about transferring INKJET-printed images to air-dry clay.  Until about two weeks ago, I had an inkjet printer, but Son #2 came over to print something, I gave him the printer since The Husband bought us a new laser printer.  It is not so easy to transfer a laser printer image to air-dry clay.  

I tried all sorts of transfer agents:  water, alcohol, nail polish remover.  Nothing worked.  I'd even bought some printable vinyl sheets, thinking the image might slip off easier than it would on paper.  Nope.  

Supposedly, laser print will slip off the slick side of address label/sticker paper, but I haven't got any.

Anyway, this morning I took one of the images that I'd printed on a vinyl sheet, and instead of trying to transfer the image to clay, I put it in a backless bezel frame and filled the bezel with UV resin.  We'll see how this works.  It will need to be backed with something.  

* * * * * * * * 

After almost a whole week of crawling around on my hands and knees, shining a flashlight in dark places, and turning furniture upside-down, I finally found my bail pliers:

They were right there, sticking up in plain view the whole time.  

Rerouting - March 5, 2026

Tuesday morning, I found a jewelry tutorial I wanted to try.  It was, essentially, four identical heart-shaped pieces, locked together in a circle with wire wraps and beads to become a pendant.  Here's what I started out to make:  Wire wrapped flower pendant | Beaded wire pendent

Here's what came out:

Look at that janky thing.  I bent the hearts to hell and back while I was trying to wrap them (a common occurrence for me), and the swirls were not uniform.  

Wednesday morning, I started over.  The second attempt was better - I didn't bend the hearts too much - but before I got halfway through it, I knew I'd have to do it over AGAIN.  

I sat down and made a LOAD of the individual heart components, determined to be more precise.  The swirls got better.  The third attempt produced what might turn out to be "a keeper":

Today, I played with that bowl of spiral-y hearts to see what other configurations I could come up with.   If you bend the hearts a little more than 90 degrees, you can connect more than 4 of them for something other than a square.  Five hearts can make a hexagon.  Six can make a circle.  Any of those configurations come out a little "wiggly"/flexible.  

  

I might have gotten more accomplished this week had I not misplaced my bail pliers.  Been looking for them since Monday.  

  

Driving Nanny - March 3, 2026

Saturday afternoon, as I was on the back porch, twisting wire for jewelry, Nanny came sauntering around the corner.  She'd come to ask if I would drive her to her eye doctor appointment on Monday.  I agreed, and we agreed on a departure time.  Yesterday morning, I picked her up at 10:15 for her noon appointment.  It was a long drive.

Nanny doesn't get much opportunity to talk to people, outside of churches, funeral homes, and grocery stores, and she had a fresh story to relate about something that had happened after church the previous day.  She started the story as we started down her driveway on the way to the doctor.

As Nanny and another lady were leaving the building (they and the minister were the last to leave), they encountered an Hispanic lady in the church parking lot.  Her tire had gone flat.  She wasn't very fluent in English.  Grandsons had to be called in to get lug nuts off.  Nanny ended up driving the lady and her tire to a tire repair place.  While they waited for the fix, the lady took Nanny to lunch.    But the lady was able to drive away on a good tire.

We'd been on the road close to an hour by the time Nanny got to the part where she got home.  We'd taken detours up family trees and down gravel roads her father had paved when he worked for the WPA in nineteen and thirty-five.  I learned why the helpful grandson was living with his grandmother, how old he is, and where he works.

I just drove. . . . 

On the heels of that story came news of cousin Duffy, who was in a rehab/nursing home in the same town.  That one was a good ten-minutes leading up to the request:  Could we stop to see about him after the doctor's appointment and after lunch at the all-you-can-eat buffet?  The visit wouldn't take long.

(Lord Jesus . . . .)

Sure, why not.  

My brain was numb by the time I got home, close to four o'clock.

My BFF called about suppertime, just as The Husband got home from work.  I had her on speaker phone as he came out to the porch, telling her about my day with Nanny, and how I learned more than I wanted to know about some townsfolk in a story that was technically about a lady with a flat tire.

My BFF said, "We do the same thing."

I said, "I know."

And The Husband just laughed and laughed.

I am shamelessly planning another craft store run this morning.  Might even hit a dollar store or two for treasures I don't yet know I need.  ;)

I had a few successes in the craft room yesterday, but lost points on one of them late in the day.

Several years ago, The Husband "inherited" a box full of old piano sheet music.  For some reason, there was a trumpet practice book among the sheets.  The pages are yellowed, and there are some interesting terms among them.  I had the idea to make a resin pendant with a treble clef and key signature in it.

I poured a clear, tear-drop shaped cabochon, about 1" x .75".  Poured it almost full and cured it.  Check.

The printed treble clefs were just big enough to fill that space.  Cutting them out to the perfect size/shape was hard.  Since the plan was to make more than one (if I could get the process right), I didn't want to fool with scissors, so I traced around the cabochon, scanned it with the cutting machine, and jimmied around with the size until I got it just right.  Stuck the music to my cutting board, et voila!  

It then occurred to me that I could use that same scan to cut all sorts of things to go under that cabochon.  I forgot about the treble clef for a minute and cut out some glitter vinyl that would fit it.  I added a drop or two of resin to the cured cabochon (still in the mold), put the vinyl on top of it, and filled the mold the rest of the way.  It worked perfectly! 

Had to pour a new cabochon for the treble clef.  Among my resin stash was a small bottle of transparent brown resin.  It's just faintly brown.  I used it for the cabochon.  

The paper treble clef needed to be sealed (two coats, on both sides, with white glue that dries clear) before going in the resin.  The online advice was to let it dry for several hours before putting it in resin.  I might have rushed it, but when it felt dry to me, I used it. 

The experiment came out okay.  Wasn't crazy about the brown resin, but the cabochon is usable as a pendant. 

After that, I moved on to making rings out of wire.  Turned out 3 rings, two of which turned out okay.  

When The Husband came home from work, I took him to the craft room to show him my accomplishments.   

I could not find the treble clef cabochon anywhere.

Hermie's back! 

Gumption - February 24, 2026

It's too cold to be on the porch this morning.  I won't be here long.

Trying to work up the gumption to work on some jewelry today.  I hurt my knee yesterday - just leaned a little sideways to reach for something, and POP!  It's a teenage injury that flares up now and then.  My knee is swollen and "loose," but it doesn't hurt much as long as I keep it moving.  When I get up after sitting a while, those first few steps are a bitch.

The tiny flowers that have been sitting in silica powder since the weekend have dried nicely.  The forsythia maintained its color much better than they did when I used the silica microwave method.  I found a few dandelions this morning, and one little purple bloom (don't know what it is).  The cold snap seems to have made everything hold off blooming for a minute.

Since yesterday, I have made 5 bracelets.  Every one of them has something wrong with it.  :-/

I'm going to keep trying until I get it right.

Drying buds - February 28, 20276

In case you're wondering what caused a lapse in the near-daily reporting of my yawn-worthy doings, don't worry.  I've just been busy making messes, wasting wire and resin, and fuming over failed attempts.  

The Grandson moved in with us a little over a week ago.  Trouble with mom, apparently.  I've been expecting this ever since he graduated from high school and turned 18.  He's a good kid.  I'm glad he turned to us.  He's welcome here.

Son #2 and his family went to Texas over the weekend so that Granddaughter #3 could participate in a gymnastics competition, leaving Roscoe and Duffy (the cat) home alone.  Because I referred to Roscoe as an asshole the last time we were asked to tend to him, they did not ask us to see after him this time, but when I saw the other grandparents tending to the animals, I volunteered us for the job since we live just across the road.  Roscoe was not so much of an asshole this time - we didn't have much trouble getting him to go back inside after his potty breaks - but he did shut himself and Duffy in the laundry room between visits.  We do not know why they were both in the laundry room at the same time, but we know Roscoe was responsible for the door being shut; the room is not very big, and he's got a huge turning radius.  When The Husband went over to check on them, he found them in the laundry room.  There were washing powders all over the floor, and Duffy was on a high shelf above the machines.  I figure he's responsible for spilling the washing powders.  Nothing was amiss when I went over at 7 this morning to let Roscoe out.  Duffy shot out the door when I held it open for Roscoe.  Duffy has all of his claws (he needs them in a house with four dogs) and I worried that he'd shoot up a tree and not come down.  Roscoe wouldn't let him off the porch, though, so I didn't have much trouble catching him and tossing his fat butt back in the house.  While Roscoe did his business, I filled their water and food bowls, and when Roscoe came in and went to his food bowl, I escaped.  He was raising cain about it when I left.  The kids will be home today, so our job is about done.

I am still playing with wire, resin, and clay, intending to make jewelry with it.  I've wasted a lot of materials trying to learn the skills.  About 10% of what I produce comes out mostly right.  And I don't even know what I'll do with it all, except give it away. 

But, hey . . . it keeps me off the streets.  ;)

Tiny blooms are beginning to appear around the yard.  Yesterday, I picked henbit and forsythia and some tiny white blooms I can't name.  I want to dry some to put inside resin.  I'm drying them in silica powder.  This powder had a 2-minute microwave option, and I tried it, but the tiniest things turned to dust, and the forsythia came out ochre instead of yellow.  Ther's another round of the same flowers buried in silica powder in an airtight container.  This method is supposed to take several days to work.  Since the blossoms I used are so small, I will check them tomorrow.

 

UV Resin Adventures - February 10, 2026

See all those lumps?  They're (mostly failed) resin cabochons and pendants that would not cure under my UV lamp, so I brought them out to the porch to soak up some sun.  They've been out here for a couple of days, and some of them still feel a little sticky.  Only a few of them are worthy of becoming jewelry.  I guess the rest could be used for things like decorating outdoor pots (which I will probably never do).  Some of them are a little sunken on the back side, but hot glue might fill the gap enough to stick them to something. 

I am growing frustrated with being unable to achieve the results I want.  

My curing problems likely stem from the things I've used to color the resin - alcohol inks, pigment inks, mica powders, glitter, glitter flakes, etc.  They block the UV light, and the more colorants you add, the less the light gets through.  My pitiful little UV lamp only works for a maximum of 1 minute at a time, which means it must be re-started multiple times to achieve much of a cure, even with un-tinted resin.  I don't know if the short interruptions of light make much difference to the curing process.  

The sun works better.

I have some concern about the resin, itself - all resins, not just the UV stuff.  I am scatter-brained, and at first I did not always remember to put on gloves before messing with the resin.  For a few days, my fingertips wore residue.  The resin instructions do not say to wear a mask, so I haven't been wearing one.  Yesterday, as I was scouring the internet for resin tips, I ran across a UV resin video featuring a myth-buster guy and two resin professionals, and I thought, "Oh, boy!  I'm going to get some real info this time!"  The first thing they did when they prepared to cure some resin was to put on respirators.

Respirators.  Not just masks.

Further research indicates that the fumes from resin while it is curing are toxic.

I may have to re-think the whole idea of resin jewelry.  

But there are 8 full bottles of resin in the "studio," and boxes full of colorants.  Maybe I can use them on the porch before the spring pollen storm.

Break Time - February 6, 2026

Taking a break from reaping what I sowed 10 or 20 years ago, when I decided to dump all of my beads together in one deep box.  I knew it was dumb when I did it, that at some point I'd have to either re-sort the beads or throw them out or give them away.  I did this to make room for supplies for whatever craft craze next caught my eye.

Over the past couple of weeks, I've been digging around in the box, refreshing myself as to its contents, sorting by class - bead, finding, wire - into zip bags.  

Reckoning time has arrived.  

Today, I needed two matching beads for a pair of earrings.  I know they're in that box.  Somewhere.

Today, I started the color sort. 

This is going to take a while.

The Thaw - February 3, 2026

It's day 11 of snow/ice.  I've had about enough of it, thank-you.  Warmer temperatures are supposedly on the way.  By the end of the week, we'll be in the 60s, they say.  

Friday of last week was my day to see after Roscoe while his family was away.  I went over at 7 a.m. to let him out.  The temperature was in the teens.  Roscoe did his business and came back inside the house without too much argument.  I did not make him go back in his kennel.  At 12:30, I went back to let him out again.  In my absence, he had helped himself to several single-serving bags of potato chips from a box on the counter.  I let him outside and cleaned up the mess.  He would not come back inside this time.  I spent THREE HOURS trying to lure him back into the house without success.  Dog snacks, Funyums, cheese . . . nothing worked.  Every time I approached him to grab his collar, he would run.  I called The Husband on his way home from work and asked him to stop by to help.  When he arrived, I came home and left them to it.  It took him another 30 minutes to coax the big idiot dog into the house.  We were so glad when Roscoe's family came home Sunday.  

I did very little crafting during the Roscoe duty days.  Just couldn't get my head into it.  Nothing came out like I wanted.  My sewing room table is half covered with failed resin experiments and wobbly wire formations.  My 2nd resin bottle is almost empty, and there's little to show for it.  Yesterday, 8 more bottles arrived.  I'm hoping - nay, expecting - to know what I'm doing by the time I open that last bottle.

This morning, I painted Valentines.  Granddaughter #1, away at college, gets a heart pendant tucked into hers.

The Re-Freeze - January 30, 2026

Yesterday, the high temperature pushed 50 degrees.  This morning (and for the rest of the week), it's well below freezing.  What melted yesterday re-froze last night.  We still have several inches of snow on the ground.  It will be early next week before this stuff disappears.

Son #2 and his family braved the ice and drove to Atlanta so that Granddaughter #3 could participate in a gymnastics competition.  With bad road conditions all over the south, I am surprised the competition wasn't cancelled.  In any case, the kids have gone and have left Roscoe (aka Shithead) home alone.  (The other grandmother has the other three dogs.)  They were going to take Roscoe with them, but he acted a fool in the car, and they turned around and brought him home and asked us to tend to him until they return home Saturday.  The Husband took Roscoe duty Thursday night and yesterday.  Today it's my turn.  I crunched through the snow at 7 this morning to let him out to do his business and stretch his limbs.  When he finally agreed to come inside, I shut all the bedroom doors and left him in the living room.  I'll have to go let him out again in a few hours.  If he has acted a fool in the interim, I will put his ass back in the kennel.  If he will go.  A dog that big you don't MAKE do anything.  

Yesterday was a good day in the craft room.  I ran several UV resin experiments that turned out promising, made three or four pendants that turned out so-so, and learned to make chains for pendants and earrings.  Making chains is, for me, a slow and tedious process, and it uses a lot of wire per inch of chain.  I may tat or macrame hangers for the pendants.

Last night, I discovered resin boogers in my nose.  I have not faithfully worn a mask and gloves when working with resin.  A couple of my fingertips are kind of crusty with resin, but I am pretty sure I never stuck them in my nose while the resin was wet.  Those resin boogers must have formed from inhalation.  However they got there, they pulled out all my nose hair when I pried them out.  I'll be more careful about remembering the mask from now on.

Snowmageddon 2026 - January 27, 2026

Snowmageddon arrived some time after I went to bed Friday night but before I got up Saturday morning at dawn.  Sleet that changed to snow (some of the biggest flakes I've ever seen) then changed to sleet again.  It all froze together in one thick layer than you can walk on without breaking the crust.  Four days later, the main roads are passable, but our country road is still a frozen sheet.  Today, Tuesday, it is sunny and almost 31 degrees.  Water is dripping off our roof.  Whatever thaws today will freeze tonight and stay frozen until early next week.  It's a good thing the craft room is well stocked.

Birds have been finding their way onto the porch.  I opened the screen door and shushed one out yesterday.  Another one was on the porch this morning.  I keep the bird food for the feeder in a plastic bin inside a garbage bag (to catch the spillage) on the back porch.  When I came out, the bird was IN the garbage bag, eating the spillage.  I eased inside and told The Husband, "Put your coat on and come out to the porch; there's a bird IN the feed sack."  (He will catch them with his hand; I won't.)   It didn't work.  The bird heard us coming and flew up to the rafters.  There's a tunnel up there, just below the rafters, where a bird can run three quarters of the way around the porch without ever showing a feather.  I opened the door, and we knocked on the tunnel with a broom, but he wouldn't come out except to fly from one screen to another before going back into the tunnel.  We gave up chasing him when our hands froze.  I hated to leave the door open so that more could come in, so I watched through the kitchen door until the bird finally found his way out.  

I have been trying to make jewelry this week.  Not having great luck.  I'm casting resin cabochons in various shapes and wrapping them with wire.  Only a few have turned out to suit me, but my skills are slowly improving.  Maybe there's hope.

 

Waiting on the Blizzard - January 23, 2026

The bad weather is expected to arrive here around 8 p.m. tonight.  Rain/sleet/snow, most likely.  For the next few days, the roads will be like skating rinks.  My fingers are crossed that this won't be a storm that ices the limbs and power lines and causes power outages.  

We are as prepared as we can be, I reckon.  Yesterday, I made enough soup to last a few days.  The Husband's propane heater has arrived.  Last night, he came home with six 5-gallon water jugs.  (We're going to need a bigger shed to store all this sh*t when this is over.)  Son #2 came over yesterday, gathered up our gas cans, and filled them at the convenience store up the road.  When he brought them back, he tinkered with the generator and had it running in nothing flat.  Let's cross our fingers that we won't have to use it.  It is so freaking loud.  Son #2 and The Husband say that we can use the truck to power the house.  There's a special outlet where we used to charge the camper that will hook to the truck.  #2 started to tell me how it works - "You've got A and B, and when B is open -." 

I just held up my hand and shook my head.  Don't.  Just don't.  I hope it is something I never need to know.

Whether we lose power or not, I foresee him and The Husband plugging the truck in to the house at some point this weekend.  I intend to be at the opposite end of the house when it happens.

If they can't devise enough power to charge up my laptop, I will go apeshit.  

This morning, I have been pouring resin into jewelry pendant molds, trying to learn what colorants work, and how they act when mixed.  If anything turns out nice, I will try to wrap it with wire to turn it into a pendant.  

Someone or something is forever screwing up my plans.

This time, it's the weather.

Yesterday was supposed to be a no-shoes, no-bra day.  It was chilly and raining, and I planned to stay home, warm and cozy in my jammies, and craft from dawn until bedtime.  

Mid-morning, I looked outside and noticed that the garbage truck had been by.  The garbage can lid was open, the can filling up with rain at the end of the driveway.  I put on The Husband's shoes and clomped out to the road in the rain to close the lid and bring the can to the back yard.  While doing this, I noticed that Nanny's garbage can was also open at the end of her driveway.  She's been feeling poorly and did not need to be out in the cold rain dealing with the garbage can.  I came inside, put on some clothes (but skipped the bra), and went back out to deal with Nanny's can.  This required tying the can to my car so that I could drag it down the long driveway.  I was soaked by the time I got back home.  Changed clothes again.  Went back to crafting.  

An hour later, The Husband called, wondering if I planned to go to the dollar store.  He said we needed two bottles of propane.  He said he'd stop on the way home if I wasn't going out.

Propane?  As far as I knew, the only propane-fueled object we own was a patio heater, and the last time I tried it, it would not light.  "What do we have that works that even uses propane?"

He said he'd ordered a propane heater in preparation for the predicted Snowmageddon arriving this weekend.

I hated to make him stop after work, so I went to get the propane, in the rain, hiding my bra-lessness with my coat.  

With that done, and leftovers for dinner in the refrigerator, I anticipated that the rest of the day would be uninterrupted craft time.  It was not to be.

As soon as The Husband got home, he changed clothes and said that he was going to get some stuff (for the blizzard) out of the shed.  The generator.  The propane stove.  I knew that stuff was buried behind layers of other stuff, so I put on some shoes and went out to help.  We dragged all that stuff to the back porch in the rain.

Pray that the power won't go out and we won't have to use those things, or the propane heater.  The generator probably hasn't been cranked in two years.  The Coleman stove is an artifact from our tent-camping days, 30 years ago.  I'm surprised the lid hasn't rusted shut.  If either of those things works, it'll be a miracle.  And I am nowhere near comfortable with running a propane heater in the house.  

While I'm hoping that the coming weather won't knock out our power, I'm going out this morning to prepare.  We're running low on toilet paper, and I need ingredients for soup and/or chili that will last us a few days.  

I didn't accomplish much in the crafting department yesterday.  My plan was to make a bracelet I'd seen on YouTube. Making it involved twisting wires to a length of 7.5", then folding the excess down the sides to frame the twisted section.  Although I'd followed the instructions, both in the gauge of the wire and the length of the wire, there wasn't enough excess to fold completely down the sides.  I tried to "engineer" it and made a mess of it. 

Hoping to salvage some of the work, I decided to cut the twisted wire section in half and make rings out of them.  Made a mess of the rings, too.  

I'm going to try again when I get home from the grocery store.

Bad Weather Ahead - January 21, 2026

The weatherman says some nasty stuff is on the way.  Rain south of us.  Snow north of us.  We, being in the middle, will be getting a little of everything.  And it's supposed to get really cold.  I dread it.  Good thing I've got enough craft supplies to get through it.  ;)

It's been a week or so since I've posted.  Been busy crafting and doing other things.  

This past Saturday, we did an impromptu "junkin' trip" with the Sister-in-Law and Brother-in-Law.  All we bought was a framed poster to go with one we already had, a bag of popcorn kernels, and a jar of caramel seasoning to shake on the popcorn as it is popping.  I haven't popped popcorn in a pan on the stove since microwave popcorn came out.  It was a disaster.  For starters, the vegetable oil that I used had gone rancid and I did not realize it until the process was underway.  On top of that, the caramel seasoning was mostly sugar, and it scorched right away.  We couldn't eat the popcorn, and it was so nasty that I wouldn't even throw it out for the birds.  

Sunday was the Little Rotten Baby's birthday.  She and her family were out of town, attending a gymnastics competition in which Granddaughter #3 was performing.  When the LRB found out her parents weren't planning a birthday party, she was upset.  Her mom texted us that there would be a party, after all, once they got home on Monday.  I hurried to the store to buy a cake and some party food.  At the end of the day, the LRB was happy.

Yesterday morning, I drove Nanny to the doctor for a routine test.  She talked my ear off, going and coming.  She would ask a question and then not give me an opportunity to answer.  It was a long morning.  ;)

When I got home, I ate a sandwich, did some household chores, and then sat down to play with beads, wire, and UV resin.  My immediate goal is to make some resin beads lovely enough to be used in jewelry.  This morning, I made a few that might work.  Now, if I can only set them in wire and come up with something a person might actually want to wear.  

I'm having issues coloring the resin.  What to use?  I've tried mica powder, and it is lovely, but I want some non-sparkly things and can't find the right additive that will cure properly.  

I bought two bottles of resin, one to practice with, and one for "real" items.  It looks like I might have to break out the spare bottle for more practice.

Resin Shapes - January 13, 2026

Monday's resin experiment was a little short of successful.  ;)

The top left wing has a little bit of "run-off" on the corner, but it's thin enough that it could be trimmed off with scissors.  Otherwise, the wings kinda rock.  The body?  Not so much.  The black resin (which I made with clear resin and black alcohol ink) did not want to fully cure.  I was able to lift him off the silicone tape intact, using a pallet knife, but if I had tried to peel the whole dragonfly off without supporting the wings, they would probably have fallen off.

This morning, the dragonfly is propped up on the back porch rail, facing the sun.  It's sunny and cool right now, high 40s, supposed to be in the 50s later today.  The cool temps may slow down the curing.  I'm going to leave him there until either he cures or the sun goes down.  Might put him out again tomorrow, if necessary.  

If the home-made black resin just won't cure, I may try another recipe or order some factory black resin.  If this dragonfly body never cures, I shall snatch off his wings (if possible) and make another body. 

It's really too cold to be on the back porch this morning, but I'm out here, anyway, in the big fuzzy robe I got for Christmas (I feel like Fozzy Bear when I wear it), with a cup of coffee rapidly chilling on the table.  I spent the weekend in the house, setting up a work area in the sewing room for wire and resin crafts, and I just need a little fresh air and sunshine.

My wire jewelry-making skills are slowly improving.  Two of The Granddaughters came over here Saturday night and raided the bowl into which I was tossing rings as I finished them.  None of the rings were worthy of retail sale, but the girls thought they were magnificent.  

The Granddaughters (#1 and #3) also went home with the four pastel pencil portraits I did a few months ago.  Those pictures have been piled up in the sewing room, under various stacks of sketchbooks and fabric, awaiting final tweaks that I will probably never make.  I figured it was best to get them out of here before they get ruined.  [It just occurred to me (this instant) that I never sprayed any fixative on them.  Must remedy that soon.]   I told The Granddaughters to tell their daddy to make frames for them.

This morning I have been playing with UV resin, trying to create 3-D-ish flowers and bugs that can be set into bezels and such.  I am mixing clear resin with various colorants (mica, alcohol ink, watercolor paint) to see what works and blobbing it on silicone tape, hoping I can gradually build up the shapes and peel them off the tape.  I'm not having much luck stirring up black resin that will cure hard.  My little UV lamp only works up to 60 seconds at a time, so I'm having to babysit the resin to cure it.  If I get the hang of this, I'll want a better lamp.

Score! - January 9, 2026

Despite my vow not to go back to the hobby store, I stopped there on my way to pick up my grocery order.  It was fortuitous.  

This week, I have been watching videos on how to make wire jewelry.  In a ring-making video, the instructor used bail-making pliers to make a loop.  I once had some bail-making pliers but gave them to Granddaughter #1 for a project she was doing.  I could have walked across the road and asked to borrow the pliers but preferred to buy another one for myself.  However, when I was in the hobby store on Tuesday and saw that the pliers cost $24.99, I decided to borrow the Granddaughter's pliers, after all.t

Wednesday, I tried to duplicate the ring in the video with limited success.  I cranked out 5 or 6 rings (which The Granddaughters have already confiscated), but none of them suited me.  I blamed it on not having the right tools and moved on to other videos until I could borrow the pliers. 

Yesterday, on my way to pick up the grocery order, despite my vow not to go to the hobby store, I went to the hobby store to look for pretty beads.  There, on the bead aisle, hung two identical bail-making pliers.  One was marked $24.99, printed right on the package.  The other had a sticker that read $$9.99.  No, that's not a typo, there were two dollar signs.  

I knew what had happened.  For some reason, the $$9.99 pliers had been hand-priced with a sticker gun, and the worker had made a mistake.  The price should have been $19.99.  I shop at the hobby store enough to know that the cashiers enter the item prices by hand instead of scanning them.  The cashier might realize, as I had, that the pliers were priced incorrectly and charge me full price for them (which would still be $5 less than the other one).  

At the cash register, the cashier typed in 9.99.  

A brief internal battle ensued.  Should I be honest and point out the error?

The bad angel won.  I kept my mouth shut.

That afternoon, I was too busy with household chores to fool with crafting, but after supper I got out my new pliers and attempted another ring.  It turned out the worst one so far.  Evidently, the problem is not the tools.

But I shall try again today.

Small successes - January 8, 2026

Yesterday, I decided to educate myself on how to make a costume jewelry ring.  Ten or twenty years ago, when I first started fooling with jewelry-making, I tried to make rings but never produced one that anyone even wear to a cat fight.  I still have a load of jewelry supplies, so I fired up some videos and had a go at making a ring.

The first ring turned out so-so.  It's not perfect, but I'd wear it.  I made 5 or 6 more within a couple of hours - one for each granddaughter and their mother, guessing at sizes - and then tried a different design, which did not work out as well.  I'll try again today, once I get a move-on.  

Before I can play with jewelry, I've got to go mail something and pick up a grocery order.  I WILL NOT STOP AT THE HOBBY STORE ON THE WAY.

I messed with jewelry until nearly 10:00 last night.  When I realized what time it was, I did my night-time routine, then as I was about to get in bed, I went back to the kitchen for a drink of water.  My Kindle - the thin, paper-white kind, about 1/4" thick - was in my hand.  I laid it on the counter by the stove while I got my water.

The counter by the stove doesn't fit snugly against the stove.  Our original stove was a drop-in.  When it went kaput, we installed a free-standing stove.  Had to cut the counter for the stove to fit.  Our cutting was not precise, and we ended up with a 1/2" gap between the counter and the stove.  I keep intending to get new countertops, but haven't gotten around to it.  I do all of my meal prepping at this counter; the crack is littered with dried-up vegetable pieces and dust bunnies that nobody can get to without moving the stove.  

When I reached for my Kindle, I somehow knocked it into this crack, a feat I probably couldn't reproduce if I tried.

I shouted a truly nasty cuss word and started looking for something with which to fish the Kindle out of the crack.  Swiffer duster?  I stuffed it in.  Nope, too short.  To make matters worse, when I withdrew the Swiffer, the fluffy duster pad stayed firmly in the crack.  Flyswatter?  Nope, too short and too flimsy.  A yardstick finally worked, but it took some hands-and-knees doing.  

The Husband was on the porch during this battle.  He had heard my nasty cuss word and had watched the shenanigas through the back door window.  About the time I got the Kindle out and was hauling myself to my feet, with a big shout of "Good GRIEF!"), he came in grinning, and when he saw that it was the Kindle that I'd been fishing for, he doubled over laughing.  

I didn't think it was all that funny.  ;)

Strange Meat - January 7, 2026

Yesterday, I accompanied The Husband to a couple of follow-up doctor visits.  We left the house in the morning, got home at supper time.  

The first visit was with his dermatologist.  We got shuffled around between rooms, and at one point we were sent to a small waiting room that was separate from the big one in the front of the office.  There were about 10 people in the room, and some of them had been there long enough to have started conversations with other patients.  The atmosphere became rather like "old home week" as people discovered mutual friendships and interests.

I had taken a book to read while we waited and was not paying much attention to the conversations when two guys behind me started talking about hunting.  One guy said his grandson had killed a bobcat and the two of them had skinned it.  Something about the way he was telling the story made me turn and ask, incredulously, "Are you intending to EAT the bobcat?"  He kind of laughed and explained that it wasn't a regular cat, like a housecat, but he never admitted nor denied that there was bobcat meat in his freezer.  

I asked him if he'd ever eaten groundhog ( Susan's fancy: Another One - March 23, 2022 ), but we were called back to an examining room before he had a chance to answer.  

We had over two hours to kill before the next appointment.  We grabbed some lunch, then The Husband asked if I had any ideas about how to kill the rest of the time.  Despite my vow not to buy any more craft supplies this month, I suggested we could go to the hobby store.  

In the hobby store, there was an elderly lady, pushing a walker, who called to us as we passed her.  "Excuse me, can you help me?"  She was holding a stuffed animal toy.  "Is this a buffalo?"

I said, "No, ma'am, that's a highland cow."

She'd never heard of a highland cow.  She explained that she had traveled from (somewhere) and was about to go visit her brother, who was "a big Buffalos fan."  She thought it would be funny to take him a buffalo.  She was mightily disappointed that the toy she held was a cow.  She thanked us and lumbered away.

A few minutes later, The Husband discovered a small plastic buffalo among some other plastic animals on a shelf.  We grabbed it and started looking for the old lady.  When we found her and showed her the plastic buffalo, she was thrilled. "It really IS a buffalo," she exclaimed, "and it's only $5.99!"

We felt as though we'd done a good deed.  :)

Analysis Paralysis = January 5, 2026

This past fall, I spent most of my craft time painting Christmas cards.  I mailed them during the first week of December.  

We traveled during the second week of December.  I had not done a lick of Christmas shopping, so when we came home, I knew better than to start any new projects that would distract me from the things I needed to do.  The shopping got done, the wrapping got done, the cooking got done, but during that time I was planning ahead for the time when I could get back to crafting.

Before Christmas, I ordered air-dry clay (several different kinds) and UV resin (and the supplies I'd need to work with it).  I already had some clay and resin tools from previous undertakings.  Last week, I straightened up my craft room (kinda) and spent a couple of days dabbling with the new toys to familiarize myself with the materials and identify potential pitfalls.  And, of course, I discovered that I didn't have quite the right tools/supplies, hence a few more craft store runs became necessary.  Yesterday, at the checkout counter at the hobby store, I told the cashier, "If you see me walk in those doors before the month is up, shoot me."

Today, a rivet gun arrived in the mail.  I can't even remember why I bought it.  More stuff is scheduled to arrive tomorrow.  I AM NOT BUYING ANOTHER FREAKING THING for a while.

I'm paralyzed, not knowing what to work on first.  Last week, while I was in craft mode, ideas streamed through my head.  "Oooo!  I could use [this] to make [that]."  And now all those wonderful ideas have vanished.  

I guess I should work on the 'possum bag holder I started over the weekend.  I downloaded the pattern from Etsy, but it has errors in it and I will have to go rogue to figure out how to finish it.