(originally published 4/3/2012) [dropcap]I[/dropcap] opened the bedroom door yesterday morning and Lola strolled in, purring ecstatically, wearing my underpants on her head. (Yes, I took pictures and no, you can’t see them) I made a mental note to ALSO lock up the dirty laundry basket. These days all household objects, from art to razors, fall into one of these categories: [...]
Icy fence [dropcap]So[/dropcap] you know I can’t pass up something as gorgeously photogenic as crackly, melting ice over snow in my backyard, right? Right. I can’t. And I didn’t. I thought about schlepping Darius-the-Nikon and all his gear out to the backyard for a shoot…but the “melting” part of the above description gave me pause: Darius is not [...]
[dropcap]”Snow![/dropcap] Can we borrow your snow?” The neighborhood kids were making snow forts and afraid they’d run out. I said sure, and they happily filled their snow saucers with icy white bounty. […]
Been awhile. Been a looooong while. As a couple* folks have noticed, this blog's been closed for remodeling for more than a year, and the why part is a bit tricky. What I'd love to say: I've been slaving away for months, crafting the jo-block perfect Morganica website, and so now...taDA!!!...here it is: The world's most wonderful resource for glassists [...]
WaxVac Hampton Direct $7.99 on Amazon I put earwax vacuums right up there with nosehair clippers and recreational high colonics, so it kinda took me aback when online artist friends said they LOVED theirs. (eeeeeuuuuwwwww) Turns out that if you don't use one for slurping out your ears, it makes a fairly good frit-drawing pen. The one I tried, Hampton [...]
It’s dawned on me that I need to explain: I’m not dead, sick or otherwise incapacitated. It’s just that the blog is on temporary hiatus until I get around to fixing a bunch of stuff. Bunches of you have cleverly noticed that there hasn’t been a new post on this blog since November 2012. Must have seemed odd, because for [...]
There are cookie lovers, cookie makers..and then there's Monica. I work with Monica, and every year at Halloween* she takes a couple days off to send us into diabetic comas. More specifically, she makes enough cookies to float an aircraft carrier and brings them in along with decorated bags and plates. The calls go out, and the cookie monsters gather... [...]
Members of my family invade countries, capture brutal dictators, face down suicide bombers, challenge the IRS, Christmas-shop the Beltway. Given what happened Saturday night, I suspect I'm adopted.
You ain't no kinda candy lover if you don't live for The Black. You want a great candy? Smooth, supple, grab-your-socks candy? Candy that sends your mouth to heaven, darkens your tongue, brightens your outlook and pulls out your fillings? Screw chocolate. You want black licorice, my friend. And hey--I just found The Black, the perfect, quintessential black licorice.
It's Monday night and I'm undulating like a stadium-ful of spectators doing The Wave, except they're horizontal and I'm vertical, scrabbling to stay in a massage chair doing its best to hurl me to the floor. My sudden urge to spend an hour pampering myself has granted this woman permission to dip my feet in scalding pink wax, attack my heels with pumice, nip and tuck and grind and slap and tickle things half to death...and apparently pummel my spine. This isn't the way I remember pedicures, but it certainly spices up an already varied week.
