The Gardens - In the Beginning

Monday, February 28, 2011

With a Smile...

Iris reticulata 'Ida'

If apples were pears
and peaches were plums
and the rose had a different name.
If tigers were bears
and fingers were thumbs
I'd love you just the same.

-Valentine's Day Songs and Poems


First smile of spring in the gardens -
he's happy whether rain, snow, or shine -
today the wind is giving him a boxing match,
as March refuses to wait another day for her entrance!

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

The Dangers of Reading - Part 3

as Fluffo sees Fluffo

as everyone else
sees Fluffo

Commando Fluffo
Commando Fluffo Extraordinary
Bad Ass Commando Fluffo Extraordinary
Queen of the House of Victor
THE Queen of the House of Victor
a vapor of thought
mist on the horizon
figment of the imagination
did she ever really exist???
her humans wonder...
food disappears
fluffs of cinder hued fur blankets the floor
blurs sometimes out of the corner of eye
yet no concrete evidence
whether she is still of flesh and blood
or the essence of ghostly apparitions
the Christmas Day fiasco
her brilliantly executed creative revenge
furball fuzzball hairball of a nightmare
 that has created her downfall into
the depths of purgatory

Commando Fluffo
captured...behind bars...tortured
delivered into the bowels of hell

Assaulted with twenty tubes
 of seafood flavored
hairballs elimination lubricant
simply the bestest tasting gel ever
the label so shamelessly proclaims
spit spit spit te ou ee!!!
her toes curl up
her ears flatten out
her eyes glaze over
claws flying everywhere
she's a kittio on fire
passion driven


Even in the labyrinths of the underworld of human beds
there's no escaping the tubes of lubricating hell
and the bush monster that always finds her hiding place
day after day after day after day after day...

The enemy has been hiding in Victor's bookcase 
of otherwise nifty guerrilla warfare tactics prose -
Commando Fluffo could smell the rat a mile away
 after the fact... 
she upchucked on his pages of lies
 used them for a potty pan
he will deceive her no longer
with his cloak of invisibility
who is this crackpot Harry Potter anyway?

This invisible cloak thing
 is a piece of propaganda crap!
humans always unrelentlessly find her

Psycho Fluffo's nightmares have nightmares of nightmares...
her demise from queendom to human bondage
her world has become a kaleidoscope of
confusion and delusion and deception and misconception
she's rethinking her thinking of thinking there are no options
she's beginning to see a glimmer of possibilities...

The End
Nowhere in Sight

The Dangers of Reading - Part 1 and Part 2
will give the foundation for this story


Missed my posting last week. Jesse's my subject, but the inspiration and creativity on this one is as forth coming as turtles in a rock quarry. I don't want it to be his eulogy, his last hurrah on this earth in his old age, so it is still very much a current project, and hopefully a finished one in a week or two.  I'm having fun with The Dangers of Reading, and hoping you are also.  Zoe's my inspiration...although it's exaggerated slightly a lot...she does do all these things on one level or another.  She's not a human yet, but I love giving her all those human qualities that make her such a bad ass, as that's not too far from her true nature.

Neglecting my blogging a bit, as collecting paraphernalia for scrapbook journal is proving to be somewhat more difficult than I first anticipated.  I'm a genuine product person...I don't want fake pocket watch gears, plastic buttons (unless they're bakelite), cheap lace and ribbons...I want the real thing.  Found a fantastic fabric store with products from all over the world, and prices that are out of this world; but the buttons, lace and ribbons are art themselves.  I'm like a child in a candy store there.  Pocket watch gears, antique keys, glass stones, brass findings...I'm living on eBay lately building up my modest collection of embellishments.  Altered Art and Steampunk have captured my interest, and I'm having a go at it with my first project.  Scrapbooking the easier way is best done on a 12 x 12 inch format, as that is the common size of most papers; but I'm going to be working on a smaller format, which might prove to be a headache of a challenge.  Time will tell.

A day off work yesterday...yeeeeeeeeeeeehhh!!! time...too too windy for outdoors.  A day off work today...uuuuuuuuuuuuck!!! time...then ME time...yeeeeeeeeeeeehhh!!!...chilly, but eventually Dustin and me time at park.  Also visited food establishments I frequent only once in a great while, when I want those delectable munchies ordinary stores find no audience for.  Publix's in Brentwood, neighborhood of no houses under $500,000 for my fix of ghirardelli hot cocoa mix, earth balance buttery spread, and applegate cheeses.  Rediscovering The Fresh Market for the elusive grapeseed cooking oil, gigantic fresh artichokes, and a concoction called a strawberry pillow, my treat to me, croissant with a thin layer of vanilla pudding, fresh sliced strawberries, whipped cream, and drizzled with melted chocolate...mmmmmmmmmmmm...mmmgood...eating it now with a cup of steamy coffee and cream.  Organic turkey for my babies to eat raw has me traveling to the far ends of the earth...a rare commodity, as chicken is the norm...but chicks are a food allergy product for two of the the ends of the earth I go.

Yikes!!!  My day is nowhere done, and it's already quarter past nine.  No dinner yet, floors need mopping, and eight washed and dried rugs laid back down.  Never ending organization and re-organization of the organization...I'm beginning to have my fill of this bottomless pit of work the perfect workroom syndrome is creating in my quest for the least imperfect workplace in this universe.  Has there ever been a slob artist somewhere in history?  Let me know if you cough one up...I so desperately need to know if slobbiness induces any level of creativity.

Thursday, February 10, 2011

Ramblings of a not so perfect Perfectionist


Never quite being satisfied.
The habitual need for complete accuracy.
I know there has to be a much better way of doing that.
As long as I know the mistake is there it will drive me insane.
Anal attitude is often times linked with the obsession of perfect.
Tendency to pull one's own hair out when around imperfection.
The need to fix it, fix it, fix it, until it is no longer fixable.
If it's worth doing at all, it's worth doing perfect.
Obsessive need to correct all stupidity.
Carries aspirin for headaches.

Art is art when we say it's art.
Perfection is achieved when we say it's been achieved.
It's all only a point of view, or gathering points of view.
Perfect and imperfect co-existing this moment...
You have just been handed a personal invitation
to glimpse into the life of a not so perfect
perfectionist at work.
to my world of art and the absence of art.
Click the top of page Arts tab,
and take in a little more of who I truly am.

Friday, February 4, 2011

Everything...but the kitchen sink.

Victor's Most Excellent Breakfast!

A glimpse of husband's life abroad, emailed to me, a pun of dorky respect to my hodge-podge of blogging styles. I spun it around like a supercharged blogging matriarch, and spin dried the soggy mess of bits and pieces, edited and added, and tad ah!!! An insightful account of a not so trivial mate at the start of his very, very trivial sort of day.

Walk my mile to the dining facility. Eggs are being prepared, and, of course, they will be HARD, hard fried, the way no egg should ever be fried, the way no egg should ever be eaten, the way all eggs must be prepared for the American military in theater.  I'm standing in line after grabbing my paper plate and plastic silverware. Wow!!! a delightful surprise...we have those ever elusive PORK SAUSAGE PATTIES TODAY!!!!!!    
Immediately I shift into my McDonald's mindset, and take two patties of this delightful treat, along with a couple pieces of bacon. I'm back to my hard fried eggs, and pick up two muffins exactly like a McDonald's would serve. Toasting them in toaster...not once, not twice...three toasty times and perfection. Third Country Nationals just don't know how to properly set up a toaster, and the bread runs right through it faster than snot from a cold nose in winter.     

Sit down and right back up again...I need two cups of hot water, and two bags each of tea and sugar. I return to the preparation of my most excellent breakfast, putting one pork patty on one muffin, and the second pork patty on the other muffin. Reach across table for one small salt packet, and lightly salt both eggs. Reach again to grab three pepper packets per egg (hey! I happen to like pepper on my eggs), but sliced cheese is only a lunch and dinner thing; so these are healthy egg and pork muffins! THEY TASTE SIMPLY DIVINE! AHHH... A WONDERFUL TASTE OF HOME. Finish my most excellent sandwiches, and I'm heading back for a great bowl of grits. Hmmm...a little watery, but thick enough to eat, AND they don't smell of sweaty feet like Cracker Barrel's grits. I'm topping it all off with four slices of pink grapefruit and four slices of peaches. IT REALLY IS A MOST EXCELLENT BREAKFAST! My breakfast of simple perfection.

Superman ain't my Hero...

A month, and it's been just boss and reality it's plainly just me and me. Boss lies low in his old age vacation of mind, the last Harry Potter is his read these days, or a multi-hour hideout at the mow and nail shop. We're talking a mindset of Superman PJ's and Superman bed sheets and Superman framed poster above headboard and more and more and more Superman paraphernalia galore in this manly man's sleep room, and on and on and on he so enlightens me...this man of so little shame.   

He had to work a bit today, giving me three adding machine tapes with no totals printed, just totals hand written.  Not acceptable. Auditor's nightmare. Blank stare in reply. Machine's broken. Won't do the totals. See if you can fix it, Secretary Dear. a total...every thing's peachy dory. Bad machine! Bad machine! You pushed the star button, right? And that eyes blinded in the headlights reply...why would it have a star instead of the word total???


Not you! I realize I've become a bit of a slacker in the attention department. A person of imperfection grandiosity. Might have to change my blog to gulp, gag, barf - Imperfection...More or Less - way! A good choice, my rusty plaid blouse making me look so petite in the derriere...a most excellent choice indeed.  Two months I've washed it and dried it and hung it with care, two months I've chosen it weekly to make my body look so bodacious and feel toasty warm, two months of compliments, looking in mirrors, kiss kiss hug hug, I love me so much in this clothing confection.  Last week I was caught by surprise, knocked for a loop, left wondering if I'll be taking a seat next to boss in the vacant head gaze. I can't believe it...I've worn this dang thing forever it seems, and egads! It has side seam pockets! Pockets!!! Who stitched those things in there when I wasn't looking??? Why are the pockets even there? Hidden pockets of no purpose, pockets that lie on their side, pockets where anything within can immediately roll out, philosophical pockets that give me great pause to contemplate why oh why oh why?

Snap It Tale

My rusty plaid blouse gives me lots to talk about. A) caught in grinding machinery gears, B) the need to be arthritic finger friendly, C) removes quickly without damage in fits of passion...SNAPS...your dream come true...where a blouse or shirt can be ripped off one's body in two seconds flat.  I can attest to the fact that snaps are more than just friendly friends...they verge on obnoxious, bend over backwards, kiss your ass sweethearts.  These little hold tight, but not too tight tykes, a marvel of the industrial revolution...a jacket with a row of snap happy fasteners hiding a blouse with a row of snap lazy fasteners...and Ooops! A zip of the jacket to open the lock jawed snaps with the end of blouse inadvertently grabbed onto also, and I'm starring in an xxx rated movie at my local Publix's grocers. Did I have an audience, hell no, I don't know, good gracious, I need to remain ignorant to that a few and hurriedly disappear down an aisle into oblivion.  Bliss, bliss...I need pure bliss!

Reflecting back on my Valentine project...some people should never ever be allowed to play with razor edge scissors.
Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...