Starting today there’s going to be a new lifeguard keeping an eye on Florida’s beaches.
Heck, I already look like death warmed over in a bikini….
I don’t need the reaper to remind me.
The last batch.
But really, how can you not love these art re-creations?
Look at that woman!
Having her husband’s head on a platter has simply made her day worth living.
The nose is a little less spectacular, but okay.
Wow.
Im not sure which is more disturbing, the original or the remake.
Is it me…
Or does that guy look like George Harrison’s Indian guru from the 60’s?
Art imitating life, or life imitating art?
Either way…. that man is slaying it.
And now, the final picture.
Which couldn’t be any more relevant if it tried.
We are definitely not mathematicians.
On a gloomy, overcast Sunday morning….we started putting trim board on the baby barn at 9:00am.
At 10:00am we were still on the first piece.
And yes, at 11:00am we were still there as well.
Frustrating?
A wee bit.
Cutting angles is not our forte….. and it almost made me wish I’d paid more attention in 7th grade geometry.
A lot of serious thought, planning… not to mention cursing…. was going on right there.
And before you say “Use a mitre saw!”, we did. But the building is less than straight and square and when we finally did manage to get it right?
It was still wrong.
Thank God for flashing. It covers a multitude of sins.
So this side looked good.
But when we turned the corner?
Not so much.
How the Hell did that happen?
There was only one solution.
Sit on the big barn porch and photograph it from far away.
Yes.
Much better.
More flashing, more nightmarish trim board.
And if you’re asking what I contributed to the project?
Besides acting as a general gopher…. because when the husband is up his tools are down, and when he’s down his tools are up… my contribution was this:
Classic tunes on shuffle.
There he goes again, ever the optimist.
Thankfully the husband used to do roofing when he was young, so yes. The shingles were perfectly level.
And because he was so thrilled something was finally level?
He checked it again.
And again.
I gave up on him at 6:00pm and headed inside for dinner, but he was out there until 8:00 trying to reach the top.
He didn’t quite make it.
Still more re-creations.
I can’t help myself, so bear with me.
Never thought I’d say this, but Girl with With Pearl Earring needs a shave.
That’s mildly disturbing.
This, even more so.
His master’s voice is definitely not as poignant in the 21rst Century.
But this?
Besides wine….
The best use of grapes, ever.
Ice, ice.. baby.
I just pulled these pictures off my camera.
I’d like to say they were taken last winter.
But actually… it was a few weeks ago.
Rain, that turned to sleet, that froze to ice.
Every single surface was coated.
And while I’ve never managed to do it’s beauty justice….
It doesn’t stop me from trying.
Because there are more.
And I simply have to.
Re-created art…. part whatever.
Do you have too much quarantine time on your hands?
Do you need to keep the kids entertained?
Maybe you just want to see your husband use the vacuum cleaner.
Whatever the reason…..
Please.
Re-create some art because I’m loving them!
Uh oh.
I think my satellite radio is trying to tell me something….
More Pandemic humor.
Because some things you just can’t get enough of.
This is quite true, at least for me. I’m constantly amazed at the stories on social media of how productive people are being with their forced spare time. Amazed, and a little annoyed.
Stop it over achievers…
You’re making me look bad.
It was all right there…
We just didn’t see it.
If only I had stocked up.
My dream home in Tuscany would be that much closer.
Nothing.
Not a single thing…
Because I know you were anxiously awaiting it’s return…..
It’s back.
The ongoing baby barn remodeling saga…. and for those of you just joining us? Consider yourself lucky you missed the first 300 episodes.
Winter is over in Maine, we think…. so work has begun anew.
On Saturday afternoon rotted wood was replaced.
And the silly man I’m married to tried to make everything square.
Look at him with his little level. Isn’t that cute?
If you remember anything from last year, you’ll know the terms level and square are completely relative when dealing with this nightmare of a building.
But hope springs eternal, and maybe sometime before we’re through that damned bubble will be in the right position.
The last of the Zip siding was installed…
And yes, that’s my husband’s back…. as he refused to smile for my camera.
I can never quite figure his modus operandi when he works on a project……. and wondered why he made his way from the outside in to meet in the middle.
This doesn’t usually bode well when you’re using a tongue and groove design.
I (oh so) helpfully told him this, but of course he paid no attention because I’m a woman and what do I know?
Well, yes.
As a matter of fact he is.
But when he tried to fit that last piece?
I admit it, I chortled while he cursed.
Which I enjoyed, because really… the world needs more chortling.
Apparently I did chortle a little too loudly because I also got the look.
Which, after 36 years…. he should know has positively no effect.
A little trimmed tar paper later and he called it day.
Well, no good came from that.
I’m speaking of the (oh so helpful) post I did the other day about that most wonderful product…… the butt mask.
I hate to say it, but I’m afraid that bit me in the ass.
You see, right after I posted it? I noticed I had a few new followers:
Not the shoe woman or the wine lover… those are totally understandable.
No, I’m talking about Pistol Pete.
Whose blogs are a little out of my area of expertise.
Am I ready for men’s thong underwear?
No, Pete. I most assuredly am not.
And if Pete wasn’t bad enough? I also picked up his alter ego Daniel Alexander.
I must not know about this.
Really. I mustn’t.
Nothing. There’s no occasion that calls for male G string underwear.
Office party? Nope!
Dinner with friends? Nyet!
Your mother in law’s birthday? Well, maybe….
I’ll throw this one over to my male readers.
What do you say guys… are they comfortable?
In closing, the moral of the story is….
Don’t blog about butt masks.
And say goodbye to Pistol Pete as fast as you can.
River's world..... 