my book

i am writing a book - who isn't? Ever notice how something will happen - an event that receives a lot of notoriety - then suddenly there are three books published on the subject. How do they do it? Well, my book isn't going to be like that - published I mean. When i get the official copyright, i will post it in serial form on this blog. It will involve murder, dismemberment, love, betrayal and redemption (of a sort). I have been working night and day. Wish i was better at InDesign. I'm fighting bounding boxes which appear here and there, now and then - even when I say hide them. I'm afraid I shall have to place an addendum apologizing for the uneven appearance of my tome. I find the computer world in general is fraught with mayhem. All week i have been betrayed by the silly thing. Lost email, printer not recognized, scanner in high dudgeon. All because I installed an upgrade. They are oh so happy to take your money but oh so aloof and chary of your inquiries. For $50 you can talk to an Adobe tech (I am out of warranty) who is residing somewhere in Calcutta and is generally a sweet person but unable to really be of any assistance. But, i digress into bitter mutterings - I'm sure we have all had the same experiences.

juggling the impossible

I can't seem to keep it together clothes wise or any wise. I'm thinking of writing a book called "the unsuccesful life"

tilting at windmills

I am faced with clothing bundles. Things i will never fit into, things I could fit into but hate, and things I wonder why i ever bought. I am overwhelmed by clutter but seem to create it just like plaque in an artery. If only there were a pill -seems red wine doesn't really work but deadens the guilt temporarily. The clowns are me - the inexorable and nonplussed elephants are my clutter

tippity witchit

When I was little and ever and always the kind of child that believed anything and everything, Halloween was always tied in with this old southern saying. My mother would say it and then tighten down my buckram mask and send me out into a chill halloween night. Pretty soon the stiff and humiliatingly bad mask would go all icky about the mouth hole because i'd be chewing my lip between my begging for candy stops - just knowing that I'd be left outside the drifting throng and a sure and ready morsel for a witch- A very angry witch who resented poorly made buckram masks not at all in her image and one who didn't mind eating a sticky and chocolate laced little girl. It was also about this time that I read a little story that has stayed with me in a sort of hazy way. It is entitled "Tippity Witchit" and tells the story of a little kitten who wanders off only to fall prey to a witch who was going to use him as her familiar. I can't remember it all really, but I have the sense that morning came and with it his mother - or maybe she went searching for him as I would like to think. Anyway - it made an impression - daytime -good, nightime - bad, and for heaven's sake don't go off exploring at night because a witch could be just anywhere. Of course my little painting is of a happy and youthful witch dancing a jig with her somewhat less than enthusiastic little friend.

Etsy :: papertiguer ::

Etsy :: papertiguer ::

I have a little job for you

I am swamped - computer went haywire - house a mess, trying to navigate ETSY - etc.etc.etc. I need a familiar. I have plenty of familiars but they never perform tasks for me or magically fold laundry when I twitch my nose. They just pee in the house and look at me brazenly when I yell "who did this!"
i love Savannah but sometimes I miss the New England climate. When there is a nip in the air your internal sensors tell you its time to stock up,
make apple cider, get your firewood in order and haul out that knitting project you started but could never fathom yo sl2 yo sl2. That wonderful misty moisty atmoshphere where the world is full of slate grays, gauzy blues from chimneys and burnt oranges and scarlets of the maple leaves. Halloween is about my favorite time and in New England we lived next to a colonial cemetery. The boys played there and in the winter sledded down the rutted hill road that ringed the solemn and ancient sleepers there. It was a magic place and quite witchy. The town tomb was on the grounds and in olden times the dead were placed in its capacious vault awaiting the thawing of the ground in spring. I imagine there was quite the que. Many typhus and diptheria victims. Whole families of children. Horrible to have them in there and -accessible almost- and then go through the whole funeral thing again in the spring. My oldest son, i found out recently, shut my two middle sons in when they were 8 and 9. he and his friend howled with glee at their screams. Ah youth, what larks, as Jo Gargery would say.

I am a daughter of the universe

I have returned from a beach trip - it was wonderful because the whole family was there. Of course there are issues going away for so long. I have 5 dogs - a parrot - three cats and various small parakeets - more to follow on the keet world. Getting a reliable person to mind all of the animals is tres difficult. We had a new person this year and lawsy mercy!!! I purchased about a thousand pounds of food for everyone and piled it all on the dining room table. This pile was undisturbed. What the hell had he fed everyone. The cats could have been passed through a wedding ring. The dogs - frenetic and clinging.
The parrot's water was green and sludgy. he lost my house key - he used my computer and downloaded several cd's - in short - quell disaster. I know his mother - a sweet girl and most concsientious. She would have been appalled had i told her. My only conclusion re her son is that he saw the whole menagerie as a joke world owned by an eccentric old bag he had little respect for. All my little charges are now restored to equilibriam. Their brief exposure to the lifegaurd/qua babysitter is fading from their memory banks. All is well - the fat lady with the bikkies has returned to dote and turn a blind eye on the occasional indiscretions requiring paper towels and disenfectant. Harmony reigns. The dogs fall asleep and join in the snoring cacophany before the late night news - the cats stalk the squirels with bellies full and no sense of urgency, the parrot poops in her water knowing it will be miraculoulsy clean next morning and the little parakeets can resume sexual liasons knowing there is a plentiful supply of food and water. And I have taken my rightful place in the Savannah universe - i've screwed up a quilt
saved a baby snake from the cat and allied with a letter writing spider by placing the cat food under her web and shooing the flies that infest the dish towards her horrific maw. She is hell on wheels when they blunder into her web - and oh yes, just for good measure i accidently sewed over my finger with the sewing machine. in short, i am back.