It's been a weird few weeks.
My dad's mom died on the 14th. She was 99 and a half. What can you say when someone who is 99 and a half dies? You had a good run, lady. I wish your last decade had been easier.
Of course, when someone dies in a small family such as mine, there is much "stuff" to sort through and absorb. Mom and I spent many many hours going through my grandmother's house, because Dad didn't seem capable of dealing with that particular unpleasant task. Mom and I are very good vultures. We are quite efficient bone-pickers. Everything has been catalogued and sorted and folded and delivered to the people who could use the objects most- wheelchairs and whatnot to veterans organizations, furniture and housewares to people we know who would not otherwise have such items. I've inherited many many objects in the last few weeks, which has been stressful to say the least. I'm still weeding through my maternal grandmother's belongings, and now I've got paternal grandmother's stuff to boot. I cannot bear to part with things that are useful, or solidly-made, or weird. There is a lot of all those things in my house right now.
|My new dictionary stand. The dictionary is 6 inches thick.|
|Grim needlepoint, which is something I can get behind.|
Allergy season has descended upon Southern California. Antihistamines have become a food group again.
|Am I allergic to wistera? I might be.|
In a fit of non-apathy (fueled by heaven knows what), I made another executive decision to go to Maker Faire Bay Area this year. It took some serious rearranging of the entire work schedule (thank you, Coworkers, you have no idea how grateful I am that whole training days were rescheduled just so that I could go poke around a big weird event). I think I'm going to go by myself. I like attending things alone, especially if there's a drive involved. I shall go see what I shall see. I haven't taken myself on a vacation since… oh, maybe the sculpting workshop in 2010? I've visited friends, but that's different. This is just me going for the sake of going.
There is a show on the Science Channel called "How It's Made." Usually it's just large-scale factory sorts of things, occasionally smaller scale stuff. I caught a segment about restoring vintage advertising posters. It involved chemicals, and painstaking color matching, and artistic ability, and an obscene attention to detail. It made me very angry, because I had no idea that this sort of thing was something people did. I'm bashing around in the bushes with kids getting skin cancer and dying from pollen overload, and I've been doing this for 11 years, and I could have been RESTORING ART? I flailed about quite violently after the episode.
I got my hair cut. It's very short. I'm still trying to figure out how to make it look decent.
|When my hairdresser does it. |
|When I do it.|