Sunday, February 05, 2017

siliceous otherworld otherworldly

“If you perceive the universe as being a universe of abundance, then it will be. If you think of the universe as one of scarcity, then it will be,”  graphic designer Milton Glaser 

Not a squirrel.

Nope, it's a different kinda animal.  Remember a few weeks ago I said my stove was clanging and banging like there were elves cooking dinner in there?  It would come and go and I would just bang on the front and it would become dead silence.  I thought the metal was expanding or contacting with the heat and or cold.  And ignored it because a few days later it stopped.  After about a week I noticed there was some fiberfill (being a quilter...) scattered around the stove front so queried the canines for what they had shredded for me.  They assured me it wasn't them, I then decided I had dragged in a scrap of fiberfill on my pants cuff when I was at the studio.  But then, the next morning, there was lots more!

I turned on the oven, heard clanging and banging again and saw a gray something-  fatter than a mouse (being from New England and living in an very old Victorian I am well familiar with mouses!) scurry along the baseboard under the cabinets.  And before he finished his scurry into the nether regions, I was on the phone with my pest control guy.  

He was here in a shot and informed me that there are NO mice east of I-95 where we are.  No mice he repeated.  I said "but I saw him- he was really BIG". He repeated "no mice...".  Oh.  OH!  OH SHIT!!!.  Yup, he diagnosed it as a tree rat which apparently infects every house here at some point but people don't talk abut it because it's A RAT!   He set traps, filled in an access hole he found somewhat near the stove wall outside, and stuck one of those sticky traps under the stove where he had apparently been using it as his public bathroom.  That was several days ago and my first thing I do every morning is to get down with my head on the floor to see if he's stuck in the goo the pesty guy left.  So far so good.  I think the foam stuff in the access hole did the trick.  I hope.

So far I haven't noticed any Bubonic Plague symptoms.  And I am super pissed at my dogs who seem oblivious.  I now understand the Facebook thing about cats-  all those people have rats and the cats keep them at bay.  Right?  Of course nobody will admit it.
  see why?

HA-  Bet you have a hard time erasing that memory.  And that will also probably stop any of you who were thinking of visiting this winter to change plans.

To change the subject finally:  Here's my dad with his 28/29 Model A Ford.  he bought it used in the late 30's and drove it back and forth on gravel roads in the dead of winter across the Rockies to see my mother.  they dated from the time he was 15 or so and they were married at 20.  I simply can't get my head around being married at 20.  OK, I have trouble with 30 or 40 too but that's just me.
Swede, about 1938.  Fast forward to 1958 when he found a burned out Model A in an Ontario barn and towed it home to fix up.  It turned into a long term project and meanwhile I turned 16 and 'helped' by driving it around town as it was being restored.  By 1966 it was sold to pay for my and my brother's college.  And I have longed for it ever since.

The cool thing is that in my Industrial Park where my studio is, there are LOTS of car guys and I've seen one or two of these being worked on but now they are 89 years old, not 30.  ANYWAY, the reason I am posting this picture of my dad is that yesterday was his birth date and he would have been 99 years old.  This to me is amazing.  I have him frozen in my head as the guy who walked the length of our ranch house on his hands, a feat my mother wasn't at all in awe of.

How 'bout I at least mention art?  With all the big game hunting here, I didn't spend nearly enough time at the studio.  It might have to do with finally realizing that there was no way one earth I could have entered it into the 2 shows I was hoping for, so production went down and I fooled around with a few other repairs and piddly things in between working on the quilt-that-isn't-a-quilt.  Yup, I simply gave up trying.  But I WILL finish it up and entered in the next appropriate show.  I also am way behind getting my monthly quilt out to the Altered Book Folks too.  Never thought retirement meant I would have so little time!

Lets grab a quick ARTY PART before I give in to an afternoon of watching Super Bowl ads-  this little performance art piece hits me a bit close to home after sending off this nine boxes of quilts to Lowell!  But it's genius to see what happens~

In this intriguing sculptural series spanning 2005 to 2014, LA-based artist Walead Beshty packaged his artworks in FedEx boxes and shipped them across the country to exhibitions and galleries. But unlike most artists who utilize every bit of care to protect and pad their artwork from the inevitable rough handling of mail carriers, Beshty designed his pieces to break. For his famous FedEx works he constructed laminate glass objects that fit seamlessly within the dimensions of standard size shipping boxes. Through the “normal” handling the objects would inevitably crack and shatter and it was up to curators and gallerists to carefully remove each piece for display. The fragile volumes were then given titles that specifically mention the date, tracking number, and box size of shipment.

OK, I have to go cook up some sausage for the Super Bowl, TY is out with his pals and will be home soon-  told me he is taping the game so I don't think I can change the channel.  Might have to go knit in a bar.

               Go Pats!  Too bad Trump has announced you are his team.  
          And that leads me to say that I won't be too upset if Atlanta wins!

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