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Yeah, yeah… still the husband. Soul mate, best friend, whatever.
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But today I’m talking about critters.
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Whimsical…
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Magical….
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Absolutely adorable….
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Little critters.
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Yes, even the pesky red squirrel.
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And the mice that make their winter nests in our garage.
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The fact that these creatures are ephemeral and disappear with the first gust of wind just makes it bittersweet.
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With my husband, yes… of course.
But also with these:
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Gorgeous little masterpieces made with leaves,twigs, blooms and berries.
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Called land art…
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Because as soon as the wind blows?
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They’re gone.
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Each of Bullen-Ryner’s pieces comprises locally sourced and foraged materials. Nothing is glued or tethered, which means her work might only last a few minutes before parts begin to fly away with the breeze. So, why does she choose to work this way? “People often ask me why don’t I make something more permanent or they say it’s such a shame that it’s temporary,” Buller-Ryner shares. “But for me, it is the ephemeral nature of what I do that has become like therapy for my soul. I get to put down all my anxieties, my fears, all the chaos from my brain and turn it into something beautiful to honor Mother Nature. I take some photos and then walk or cycle away, leaving it all behind and feeling calmer, more connected, and truly lighter.
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Such beautiful little treasures.
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Yes.
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I’m definitely in love.
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Admit it….
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You are too!
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But I’m in pain and quite cranky, so here goes.
Remember a while back I stained our back deck on my hands and knees? I do it every few years but this time it caught up with me. Thank you (not so) old age, you suck the big root.
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My knee had been stiff and sore for the last month but I’m tougher than I look and just went about my business.
Bad move. Very, very bad.
Yesterday I stepped off my kitchen porch and something snapped. Like a rubber band… and yes, I screamed. Did I mention we had a big storm the night before and had been without power for 10 hours by then?
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Good times.
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I hobbled back in the house and iced it down but holy hell it hurt. I couldn’t walk, couldn’t bend, couldn’t put any weight on it whatsoever. Spent a very uncomfortable and sleepless night, then woke up looking something like this:
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I didn’t dare attempt a shower, so I limped to the doctors office this morning with my radical bed head and frightened a few staff members along the way.
Hey, ya gotta take your jollies where you can.
Turns out the doctor they assigned me wasn’t really a doctor just a nurse practitioner. And when he put me on the table to start pulling and tugging my leg in different directions? I was ready to cram his stethoscope where the sun don’t shine.
After the exam and manipulation I was almost in tears. Which is when he told me to go across town for xrays and an appointment with an orthopedist because oh, by the way… he had no earthly idea what was wrong with me. As I made my way back to the waiting room… with the speed of a 200 year tortoise… I discovered my husband had decided now would be a good time to request his flu shot.
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Which we waited a good half hour for.
So.. by the time I got across town, had xrays and was ready for my orthopedist appt? We found out the orthopedist leaves at noon.
It was 12:05…. and I was not a happy camper.
Long story long, I have an appointment tomorrow morning at 8:00am and they think I either tore a ligament or ripped a tendon. Either way, it’s not good.
And oh yes, my devoted spouse who took the day off from work to care for me? He’s at our local pub having a late lunch. Me? I had to make my own.
Ain’t love grand?
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Remember the bizarre eggplant?
The ‘extremely happy to see you’ eggplant?
We decided to gift it to our local pub’s owner/bartender/new friend.
He wasn’t quite sure what to make of it at first…. and tried to pass it off to his employee.
Who immediately weaponized it.
And then succumbed to it’s charms.
And once he saw how well it was being received?
He fell in love.
I mean really, how could you not?
And on the ground.
It was a meet cute.
And apparently they hit it off.
She was a foxy lady after all.
A little snuggling.
A few nips behind the ear.
And viola.
A happy couple.
Or not.
What do I know?
I’m going to go out on a limb here and say my husband likes our new grill.
After a long day of yard work, instead of going inside to take a shower and change….
He sat in front of it, spell bound…. watching our steaks cook through the viewing window.
A man and his grill.
Father’s Day was celebrated this past weekend and for me, it was bittersweet.
I was the quintessential daddy’s girl and lost my father when I was 15 years old. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of him, miss him and wish he’d been able to share more of my life.
So when I saw this segment on the evening news the other night?
I wept.
If you’ve lost your father, or your mother, or a loved one period…. watch it.
If you have a heart, I think you’ll be moved.
That’s me. Always missing the big events.
Half the time I’ve never heard of them or even knew they were a ‘thing’.
Case in point – did you know May was National Masturbation Month?
I didn’t either!
But it was, and I missed it.
I also missed this:
For which I am eternally grateful.
Okay.
But I’m not sure whether I should be thrilled or horrified.
Well isn’t that special?
So please, someone do the research and let me know if any records were broken.
I’ll be busy trying to figure out how to tag this post without attracting every porn spammer in the blogosphere.
I knew the rest of the world would catch up to me eventually.
Me…. and my love of rocks.
Take my town’s FB page for example.
Nope.
You can’t have mine…. move along.
Extra rocks?
As if.
My SIL called a month or so ago and said she was redecorating a room in her house. Living in Texas makes her homesick, so she asked if I could make copies of some of my father’s Maine paintings and mail them to her.
My late father was the Vice President of a Wall Street brokerage firm who relaxed as a weekend artist. He loved nothing more than sharing his work…. so I happily agreed.
Sadly, my father died a year after he retired and only had a short period of time to paint when we moved from New Jersey to Maine. We were very close, but that particular year was hard for me. It was transitional…. and moving to a rural Island where the only way off was by boat was a huge culture shock for a 15 year old city girl. I was knee deep in silly teenage angst and didn’t spend nearly enough time with him.
Something I will always regret.
So when I started pulling paintings?
I was a wreck.
My father died 41 years ago….
But I cried like it was yesterday.
Grief.
Sometimes it never lets go…..
River's world..... 