I want y’all to know I am NOT doing my taxes right now. Please notice the date.

Yup. Procrastinating again. (No gloating, Shelby)

Dear dear DEAR Mr. Taxman, I PROMISE that right after I post this, I will definitely tackle finding all those scattered notices and W-whatnots and receipts and stuff and get them all sorted and parceled out and jammed into proper little piles of regimented columns in the tax program so that I can file for an extension and send a bunch of money to you which always makes me wonder why I don’t just file the bloody tax return for heavens sake because it’s not like I haven’t already done the work and paid but forgetting all that for a moment please note that I even added this side note in patriotic red and blue just to show I really really really REALLY will…

Present me with a tax form and I will discover a never-ending stream of other things to do first. Since January, I have:

  • Cleaned, sorted, labeled, and catalogued all my glass billets and billet fragments into a new storage cabinet.
  • Rearranged my sock drawer. Twice.
  • Redesigned and rebuilt the inside studio wall storage.
  • Classified all my art brushes and developed an entirely new system for storing them.
  • Sorted all my jars of frit, first by part number and now by color gradation (dark on the left, getting lighter as you go to the right on the shelf).
  • Collected, reviewed, sorted, and dispositioned every single piece of glass scrap, murrini, and work-in-progress in my possession.
  • Vowed to watch every single television episode of any (non-animated) Star Trek-franchised series, in sequence from the original to the latest.*
  • Sorted and packaged approximately 200 pounds of stone, glass and metal beads.
  • Cleaned out and reorganized the spice, tea and chocolate cabinet and finally chucked that unopened can of Coffee Mate that someone gave me in 1998.
  • Cleaned out the garage cabinets that haven’t been opened since 2006.
  • Migrated images for 7,037 blog posts from my old blog to the new. (although I haven’t yet assigned them to posts. Hmmmmm…maybe I should…STOP it.)

..and so on. I thought I was finally running out of things to do and started collecting tax papers earlier, but then I found an email from Holly, of Denver Glass:

[tagline_box backgroundcolor=”#e5f1ff” shadow=”yes” shadowopacity=”0.1″ border=”1px” bordercolor=”” highlightposition=”top” content_alignment=”left” link=”” linktarget=”_self” modal=”” button_size=”” button_shape=”” button_type=”” buttoncolor=”” button=”” title=”Still Kilnless?” description=”Hi, Cynthia” animation_type=”0″ animation_direction=”down” animation_speed=”0.1″ class=”” id=””]I keep checking your website to see if you have replaced your “kilnless” photo with a “kilnplus” photo. I assume it is now up and running. Possibly you are just so far behind you haven’t had time to update...[/tagline_box]Got it in one, Holly. Obviously, there’s one more thing I need to do before I settle in with my taxes.


Yup. Dennis-the-kiln has come home, and I couldn’t be happier. Of course, I’ve been so busy with lots of stuff going on (including, now that I’ve finished this post, those daggone taxes) that I haven’t done more than just flip the poor fellow’s on switch to make sure he’s connected, but Dennis is home.

More info in the next post.

*I’ve long cherished the belief than any Star Trek series not including Leonard Nimoy** in its weekly starring lineup is a travesty, and so never viewed anything but the original series and those Star Trek movies where Nimoy had top billing. However, when Amazon Prime started offering the full collection for free, I foolishly made the above vow.

So far? Not impressed except at how strikingly close these shows stick to the sociopolitical themes of their times. I’m on season five of Deep Space Nine now, but if it weren’t for this silly vow I’d stop. DS9 is so turgid, I swear, that sometimes I think my eyeballs will implode. The only people I consistently root for are the bad guys…

Somebody please tell me the next series is better. Please?


**Three guesses as to the identity of my favorite youthful crush…