Tag: random

Bones, no skin

My mother used to have a phrase she pronounced whenever anyone was judgmental about what others did with their time, e.g., watching too much TV, spending too many hours at work, reading too much, passing time on the Internet, making clothes for dolls (I just threw that last one in to see if anyone’s paying attention). She’d say, “Keeps ’em out of the pool hall.” It’s one of those phrases I frequently hear coming out of my own mouth, but I don’t think that’s a bad thing. I agree with her. It’s your life. If you’re staying out of trouble and not damaging anyone or anything, whose business is it what you do with your time?

I suppose that applies even if you want to hang out in the pool hall, like Skelita Calaveras, who may be the first genuinely sized zero model.

Make a note for your next bestseller

All you Moleskine aficionados can coo over this little bundle of joy delivered by Tim to me at Christmas:


Five Moleskines in three sizes. The medium-sized ones pictured are out of their packaging because they’re being used in a year-long project. I can’t share the details, as they’ll be gifts for two people, but they are helping add purpose to my daily walks.


You know, if I were one of those bloggers who writes sponsored posts… But Moleskine, Starbucks, and Scotch are part of many of my days, not paid endorsements. That Sharpie pen is also wonderful. Even though the package says it doesn’t bleed, I don’t think it’ll work for this project; these particular pages aren’t thick enough. But if you’re a Sharpie fan and love fine points, check it out. It’s a prettier book signing pen than the standard plastic Sharpie. You’re welcome.

Red Monday

Today’s post is brought to you by the color RED.

  1. Guinness is lying on a blanket given to Tom and me by Tim at Christmas. She’s currently on antibiotics and wash for an ear infection. She’s gone deaf, and we’re hoping that when the infection clears up, she’ll get some of her hearing back. We’d noticed some behavioral changes–that she seemed to sleep more, and when we’d call her outside, even though she’d be looking at us, she wouldn’t come, almost as if she were suffering dementia. The sleeping is because noises are no longer waking her, and she will have to learn a new system of hand signals and rewards if she is indeed deaf. For food, Guinness will prove that an old dog can definitely learn new tricks.
  2. This is a painting I did for Timmy and Paul at Christmas. It’s called “Heart Fall,” and I think it was 6×6 inches (I forgot to write down the canvas size)–acrylic on a back-stapled canvas.
  3. The number of Starbucks holiday beverage cups I spied in our recycle bin was ridiculous. In our defense, there were six of us in and out of The Compound during the holidays, and we all have gift cards!
  4. The silly clown dog is too busy to stop and smell the roses. But Margot’s back paw seems to be healing nicely from the lick granuloma, thanks to her collar and the steroid cream being applied twice daily.
  5. Another gift from Tim, The Big New Yorker Book of Dogs is a terrific collection of articles, fiction, humor, poems, cartoons, cover art, drafts, and drawings from the magazine’s archives. Some of my favorite writers are reprinted in its pages.
  6. This is an old Draw Something sketch I did for Timmy a long time ago. I still love playing this on my iPhone.

I leave you with one of the New Yorker cartoons.

Button Sunday

If you take your childhood toy obsessions with you into adulthood, you should–in theory–be more tolerant of your fellow travelers. I’ve never understood the appeal of Hello Kitty, but hey, whatever rocks your world. I don’t know how she came by it, but this button was among random small things given to me by Lynne at Christmas. At the very least, it’s a softer, gentler perspective on presidential politics.

The other night when I was perusing store shelves hoping to see the new batch of Twilight-themed Barbies (shockingly, there are some I don’t have), a man at the end of my aisle was muttering something. Suddenly he gave a victorious yelp, snatched something off the wall, and began walking off. I swear I didn’t look his way–since I do know what it’s like to be an adult who finds that elusive Ages 3+ toy–but he felt compelled to turn around and look at me.

“This is the BEST DICE GAME IN EXISTENCE,” he said, holding his future purchase up so that I could see it. When I didn’t respond, he again assured me that “NO GAME HAS EVER BEEN AS FUN!”

I glanced back at Lynne, who as a grandmother has a much more socially acceptable reason to be in the toy department, and we shrugged. I found another one on the wall, noted that it was on sale, and added it to my purchases. No one’s actually played it yet, so I can neither confirm nor refute his declaration. But it’s nice to know that word-of-mouth endorsements still make us take a chance in the realm of entertainment. Writers, for example, depend on that.

Fusion!

Recently, as part of their Random Acts of Fusion promotion, Ford ran a photo contest. Each day for forty-seven days, they gave a photo assignment involving the number 47. At the end, there was a random drawing among the photographers for a Ford Fusion (the Fusion gets 47 miles to a gallon).

I didn’t win a Fusion, but I had a blast doing the photo challenges. Here’s the photo for Day 13, Friends: Take a pic of two friends–one holding up a “4” and the other holding up a “7.”

Tim and Tom were good sports. Tom also helped me on several other challenges, and my sister did, too. If you’re interested, you can see the full set of photos (with the daily challenge descriptions) here. And if you happen to have a spare Fusion tucked away somewhere…

Legacy Writing 365:294


Just another of many things I was going to learn/undertake to do over the years. I never did, and sometimes I wonder why the books are still on my shelves.

Then I remember that my father had three new careers when he was older than I am now.

Lillian Carter joined the Peace Corps at age sixty-eight.

Laura Ingalls Wilder wrote her novels in her sixties.

Stan Lee was forty-three when he began drawing super heroes.

Grandma Moses began painting in her seventies.

So…never say never!