You may call me Madame Highness

McBeth.

Of course these are mine and if I have to say this even one more time I think I'll faint. Fine. One last time: yes, they're compressed coal.

Let go of your skeptical, furrowed slitty-eyed ugliness. That look does not favor you.

I keep a red and blue velvet display case outside my home, lit by floodlights (specially ordered bulbs, naturally. The jewels can only be done fair justice to in the proper lighting). I post five very rough looking guards at all times of day to monitor the comings and goings of those who wish to gaze upon me and my gems.

Each day when it is postal delivery time I unlock the thirteen locks keeping my tiara safe. I have one of my henchpeople hold a mirror for me while I put on the earrings, the brooch, the necklace -- all my favorite sparkling baubles.

I walk to the cluster lockbox on the opposite side of the street waving to my townspeople and the grateful citizens who like to know where their taxes are going.

Elbow, elbow, wrist wrist wrist.

I have practiced this royal wave for many years - long before I was singing into the top of the Tickle deoderant container; I am adept and natural at looking as magnificent as my public expects me to appear.

Do not doubt for an instant that I have made note of your expression. Expect a visit from one of the henchpersons soon. We'll hastily remove the smirk from your face forthwith and forsooth.

yet another stray

McBeth.

On Monday of this week a small pack of neighborhood children rang my doorbell.
As in the case of the headbanging red-headed sparrow and the storm-tossed hatchlings, they'd found a stray and as per their usual, they bring the hurt/sick/lost creature to my doorstep because - well, because they can. And because they know I have the same soft spot in me to ensure that the critters get the care they need.

This time we didn't need the emergency vet clinic, thank goodness. This little black kitten was healthy and loud and looking lovely, all his claws and his dangly bits still attached. Strangely enough, he had a narrow white strip of fabric safety pinned around his neck, but no other ID. Rather than taking him to the Humane Society (which is part of the usual 'here's where the critter needs to be' song and dance), I made him comfy in the laundry-1/2bath downstairs, safely away from the three of our cats.

That first night he stayed with us J. took little black cat into his Den of Iniquity (aka the computer room) to hang out with him. Little black kitten hopped right up on J.'s lap and shoulders, purring happily without moving for four continuous hours until J. put him back in the bathroom.

The not-so-happy ending to the story: when I called the Humane Society in search of little black cat's owner's who I was just certain would be frantic to find him, I learned that nobody had called to report his disappearance.
That made my heart break just a little bit.

The much-happier ending to the story: J's friend, also a J-name, had been talking with his mother about getting a pet recently, and the timing of this lost kitty perfectly coincided with their decision-making process. They came to our house two days ago to meet little black cat. He climbed up on J's mother's chest and promptly purred himself to sleep.

Little black cat went home that night -to stay - with them. Yay. : )

bright eyes

The tomato from my garden may have bright eyes, but my own eyes don't feel very wide today. I putzed my way through both classes, barely staying awake through the Greek mythology stories that usually hold my attention so tightly that I usually find myself closing the notebook and putting away my pen wondering how the hour could possibly have already passed. My 35mm class is frustrating - I'm doing something wrong, somehow, somewhere. My negative strips aren't developing properly and I'm not sure if it's something I'm doing in my shooting or if it is something I'm doing during the development process.
We're supposed to be purposefully overdeveloping light-on-light photos that have been bracketed ... shouldn't be hard, but I can't seem to get it to work quite right. I'm hoping to get back out either later today or early tomorrow to find more light-on-light images to shoot (with a roll of 24 exposures it's a matter of finding 8 images, since 8 images x 3 bracketed shots = 24). Tomorrow afternoon I may leave early from my digital photo course to go spend some time in the darkroom. I'm not sure my digital instructor will be thrilled with that choice but I'm only going to get further behind in the 35mm class if I can't manage to properly shoot, develop and print at least one full roll of that light/light project, and THEN do the whole thing again using a dark-on-dark theme.

Sigh.


Meanwhile, I'll go on anthropomorphizing the owl eyed tomatoes I'm growing or what I should probably say is "did grow" since a hard frost fell with a thud last night, leaving very little left to bloom or flower for the remainder of 2005. Hoot hoot.

Drainage and haemorrhoea in need of a remedy

What I could read of the label:

Symptoms and Conditions for which Female Remedy is Recommended.
If you have chronic weakness, bearing down, or perversions incident to life-change.
If you have uterine catarrh, suppressed or painful periods or ovarian dropsy.
If you have suspicious growths, disposed to tumor or cancer, or hemmorhage.
If you have painful or irregular men{struation?}, haemorrhoea, or are unwell most of the time.
If you are suffering from retroversion or {something} of the womb, induration or enlargement , hyper{something}, ulceration or drainage, and the many unending evils that are present in {something} female complaints.

The Circle Game

And the seasons they go round and round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We’re captive on the carousel of time
We can’t return we can only look behind
From where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game -Joni Mitchell


in the case of this particular carousel shot, there are no painted ponies; not a one. Lit with over 20,000 lights but no horses. There are all sorts of other oddities mounted on that profoundly large toy - allegedly the world's largest carousel, in fact. Unicorns and elephants and lions and mermaids and dragons and llama only knows what else, but no, no dappled geldings showing their frozen wooden teeth.

you ought to come visit the dairy state sometime; we'll hold your hand throughout the self-guided tour here at the House on the Rock, where you can walk for six hours through the spooky creative macabre collections of collections and then celebrate the completion at the confectioner's shop where they sell the best caramel apples (and taffy and fudge and mints and barks and and and...).

the weekend of many surprises

A first anniversary weekend away from everything at a near but far-enough-away-to-feel-like-far-away B&B, a trip to the very very strange House on the Rock, and just after the clock struck midnight between Friday and Saturday - Saturday being the actual real true 1st anniversary of 10/22/04 when we first met for a cup of coffee and parted 3 hours later - my girlfriend bent down onto one knee and offered me both a ring (this ring, the ring, such a pretty ring) and a proposal.

My response to her double-whammy was immediate amazed wordless stupefication, followed by giggling, which lasted until I finally squeaked out 'yes'.

I'm at a temporary loss for an explanation ~ why this positive plague of goodness gracing my life? I feel full and oddly (for me, oddly) optimistic.