You're Doing It Wrong

Image sourced from the Public Domain Image Archive / Universitätsbibliothek Heidelberg

I grabbed this image because it’s with crayon and reminded me of an art project we did when we were kids. (Except ours looked like it had been done by kids.) Artist: Hans Prinzhorn (1922) from Bildnerei der Geisteskranken.

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I remember a few years ago I read a column by some young people talking about a work “uniform” like Steve Jobs always wore a black turtleneck and jeans. The idea was that you had the same general clothes and it reduced decision making plus you found something you liked and it fit so it was an easy wardrobe.

I remember finding it funny in a mocking way except I realized I have pretty much created a uniform for myself. My general work outfit is: Ann Taylor slacks (all ancient. They fit. I hate shopping. I’m going to retire soon. Why buy new work clothes?) Together with a long-sleeved Eddie Bauer t-shirt and a cardigan. In winter I wear a long-sleeved Uniqlo heattech under my tee. Closed toe shoes with wool socks in winter. Open toed shoes in summer.

I do have some dresses to throw in the mix. And for the coldest winter days I have some lined pants. But mostly I wear the same thing.

I could swear I already posted about this but I can’t find it.

Back in 2021, I took a photo of the world’s fullest vacuum cleaner bag. Just a skosh short of 2 lbs!

Having learned nothing, I recently had another overfull bag that I could barely yank out of the machine. This one looks fuller but weighs less. What a disappointment.

Do you think this is the bag I replaced in 2021? I wonder. The vacuum cleaner isn’t insistent enough in telling the user how full it is.

It sucked great once I changed the bag!

Meanwhile, I was at my mom’s and guess what?!? I didn’t have my scale so I couldn’t weigh it.

Sorry animal lovers. I use a legit mousetrap in the shop.

There was a time when I was willing to let the mice run around out there but then I could hear something in the walls by the kitchen and saw some mouse poop in the kitchen so I had to revise my peaceful ways.

I set this trap and placed some delicious peanuts out and if you look carefully: you will see zero peanuts, the trap is not sprung, and there is no mouse.

The mouse out-smarted me. But also probably that’s a cheap trap. Right now I have sunflower seeds on there (not pictured) that would really need to be dug out but no one is touching it.

Look at this cutiepie. This is Chinquapin.

Shortly after exiting the car upon arrival in Orleans, Chinquapin came over to visit our dog (Summer, the white and black dog.)

I had brought treats and was happy to see him. I pet him and scratched him all over.

AND. Woke up the next day with the first red dots of poison oak.

Over the next couple of days, the poison oak bloomed into big gross rashes all over my wrists and hands and even a little on my fingers.

It has not been pretty.

The photos are from early last week.

Today, it is just over a week since I was exposed. I’m sure it was the dog — I wasn’t hiking or gardening or anywhere around poison oak.

The rashes are still ugly although they are drying up and not quite as painful.

The last time I had terrible poison oak was in October 2019 and it was worse than this. I do not recommend.

I was gone to Orleans all last week for a family visit.

It was a nice trip. Lovely drives there and back. No news.

I am still recovering from being away for a week. Hopefully more news in the days to come.

This is from a neighbor’s house during covid.

This is an article about Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings who wrote The Yearling. which I haven’t read in probably 50 years.

I love the opening quote:

“If you like the book, I shall drink a quart of Bacardi in celebration,” Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings wrote to Maxwell Perkins before sending him her first novel, “South Moon Under,” in 1932. “If you don’t like it, I shall drink a quart of Bacardi.”

I can’t drink a quart of Bacaradi but I think I would have liked hanging out with her.

I don’t get cats. I also haven’t spend any time around a really cool cat.

This is Oaky. He lives at Mom’s.

Look at that face. He cracks me up.

But he’s also a giant pain in the butt and completely lawless.

I think everyone who knows me knows I am a big NCAA gymnastics fan. (Starts in January!!)

I did gymnastics from about 6th grade to maybe 11th. I was never very good.

It kills me to see all these drills and training support methods they use now. We would have this thin mats and you’d just watch someone do a skill and they try it.

I’m curious if I can still do a cartwheel. I feel like I could but I’m afraid to try.

I’m afraid my complete-opposite-of-bendy body would never be the same.