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Artist, writer, unapologetic progressive, LGBTQ+ ally
A super easy way to keep up with your old pal Katy is to subscribe to my newsletter!
Artist, writer, unapologetic progressive, LGBTQ+ ally
I want to learn to crochet. This struck me at exactly 7:38 tonight when I saw this lovely thing on Pinterest. Now I have a burning desire to carry around yarn and crochet needles in my handbag, idly making flowers…
We got a new fence yesterday! Due to the nature of our backyard layout (fences joined to neighbors’ on either side, and a deck that goes all the way to the fence on 2 sides), it was a little on the pricey side, but we needed it badly. Our old fence was falling apart, and I do mean that literally. Doc said that the construction crew didn’t need any tools to remove the old fence; they just pulled it out with their bare hands. We chose not to have latticework across the top again, as it was an added expense. I’m fine with that; I didn’t really care for it in the first place, although Doc liked it quite a bit. You can get an idea of what it looked like here. I plan to take out those stumpy shrubs, put in a gravelled path with sandstone flagstones, and plant monkey grass and caladiums here. It will be much nicer than the mud pit that it now is. The lovely shade tree above it tends to drop huge quantities of leaves here in the fall, so raking it out is an ongoing chore, and one that I have neglected for years, until now. The weird little box shed is gone! It was a real waste of space and hard to use, so I’m glad we had it taken out. I think it was originally the spot for a previous owner’s jacuzzi, and a subsesquent owner had a little covering built over the hole, to use for storage. Click here for a photo of what it used to look like. The new fence is nice and straight. Not only was the old fence wavy in a kind of seasick way as well as rotten all the way through, it had previously been […]
MY HOVERCRAFT IS FULL OF EELS! And my nipples are exploding with delight! Haven’t thought about that in YEARS! Ahh, the good old days when I could watch Monty Python’s Flying Circus and The Young Ones late at night on PBS…
My parents sold the house I grew up in and moved several years ago. My mom was heartbroken — this was the house she’d raised her children in. I was sad to see my parents leave, of course, but I’d said goodbye to the house long before that. Seeing it turned over to another family wasn’t an overly emotional event for me at the time. However… it has been brought to my attention that this house is once again on the market, and through the magic of the Internets (a.k.a. a series of tubes), I found the realty company’s photos. Now, I fully realize it’s not my house anymore, I haven’t lived there since 1990 (well, and that brief period in 1994 after college). And I fully realize that all homeowners do things to houses to suit their own tastes, to make them uniquely theirs. But this is just making me sad. Look what they’ve done! The Disturbingly Ornate Antique Jampacked Christmas Fairy threw up all over the house!! And aren’t you supposed to, you know, put away most of your decor and things, and go kind of minimalist, if you’re trying to sell your house? I guess these people never heard that little tidbit of advice. Oh yes… this one was MY room. Now it’s junky floral — and it is a pretty damn small room for all the crap that’s apparently in it. Under that yellow paint are layers of pink (the original, when I was very small), light blue, black with Jackson Pollock white drops (when my parents went out of town for a week; boy did I get in trouble for that), and also paintings that both I and my youngest brother painted directly on the walls. My parents’ bedroom. Boy, that bed almost doesn’t fit, […]
I thought it was fitting to let Angst rule my blog for a week. I miss him. It’s been really hard, especially at bedtime. Every night when I’d get into bed, he used to hop up on the bed and sit on Doc’s side, waiting for me to scratch his head. He could never get enough. I’d scratch and scratch and rub his ears and pat his butt, and sometimes he’d be so happy he’d just flop over on his side and let me scratch his tummy too. This was kind of a ritual for him and me. Doc and he had lots of rituals and special things, but this was really the only thing that he came to me for. So now when I walk into the bedroom, I still half expect to see him on top of the cat tower or sleeping on the chair. Sometimes I see one of the dark throw pillows sitting on the chair and my heart gives a little jump. Last night I dreamed that a cat that looked just like him was in our house, and part of me knew that it couldn’t really be him, but I didn’t want to think that or say it because what if thinking it or saying it made it true? I kind of knew it was true but I didn’t want it to be, so I decided to live in the illusion that he’d come back or that he’d not died in the first place. That phone call Monday morning was horrible. They’d called at 7:30 and left a message on my cell phone asking me to call back as soon as possible. I knew it wasn’t good news, because if it was just a status report they would have left more information on the […]
Yesterday was quite an eventful day. I got about half of my hair chopped off yesterday afternoon (probably about 10-12 inches). Now it’s chin length. A few years ago I decided “No more straightening my hair! No more harsh chemicals!…