Monthly Archives: April 2025

Mostly me, Painting & Drawing

Where did I leave off on the paintings?

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They’re not all good. Painting such tiny paintings is tough. But I hope that by the time I paint 100 of them, I will have improved. I’m scheduling my life now. I have so many unfinished projects and so many unused craft supplies that I could open a second-hand craft store in my garage.

I’m running out of time. I probably only have ten or twenty years left, or an hour after I leave the house. I don’t want to leave a giant pile of craft supplies that will be tossed away. I don’t want to die and leave the neighbors talking about the craft supply hoarder. Recognition of the problem is the first step even as I sit here trying to decide if I really want to spend money on some more paint markers.

There’s a void I’ve filled with stuff like that. I think it goes back to the nomadic life of a military dependent and oldest of way too many siblings. Everything I had had to be shared. I had nothing for myself. Dolls, games, art supplies, books, and even clothing. The only thing I have left from my childhood is my original birth certificate. I don’t even have my baby pictures any more. That’s the only thing that is not my parents’ fault.

My daughter took my pictures and albums to make a scrapbook of my life. She didn’t get to create it though. Her house caught fire from an electrical fault and everything was lost, including my baby book and photos. A few charred fragments were found outside afterwards, but everything else was gone.

You may ask “doesn’t your family have some of those photos?” Well, no. The Crazy Lady ( mother, dearest) burned everything in the fireplace during her mental collapse. Paintings I did in college which were in stored in the attic — broken, torn apart, and burned. Actual furniture from the living room — burned in the fireplace. Clothing, books, whatever — shredded and burned.

Her fragmented mind created fantasies — people were breaking into the house and taking things or leaving things, the children living at home had been replaced, but sometimes they came back. My father tried to get her help and take the kids, but no. This was the olden days where mothers got to keep the kids in the divorce. He almost got them, but her sister spirited them away to California where her other siblings and her mother had settled.

Why am I telling you this? Probably because I’m just as crazy, but in a different way. No one is out to get me. People aren’t talking about me or looking at me funny. Well, no more than they would any other white-haired older woman dressed in tee shirts and leggings, wearing a ball cap. Comfort first, looks second. At least I comb my hair.

I think I’ll go get those markers.

Newest of the series. So far, I have 17 out of 100.
Mostly me

Bummer.

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I got a bill from the state revenue department almost $600. I forgot to file my annual sales tax form. I actually didn’t sell anything last year. It’s not the first time. It’s not even the first time I’ve forgotten. And I used to work for them processing returns.

That was the last job I worked. I was already retired from my regular gig as a slacker for a university library. Actually, no. I wasn’t a slacker until my last 60 days. I just did my job until I noticed that my completed re-classification work was being trashed – quite literally. The shelves of materials I had redone were being emptied.

My second part of my job was digitizing 19th century medical theses. The scanning project was not cancelled but was never going to be completed as the person responsible for creating the meta data for the image uploads decided not to do it and our boss decided that was fine. (They were long-time friends)

The third part of my job was searching for articles published by our faculty and creating reports for a campus library committee. In theory, I was only searching for medical results, but ultimately wound up doing various allied health publications as well. I attended the first two committee meetings before my boss decided it would look better for a professional librarian to present my results.

That led to my early retirement. My little 1000 day retirement calendar changed to 90 days after being yelled at by the woman who had been my supervisor that she was no longer my supervisor and I should have known that! No one told me that my supervisor has changed and for months I had been leaving my timesheets in her mailbox.

After being yelled at for not knowing who my supervisor was, and since I was doing what I considered basically make-work because I couldn’t be fired without cause, I figured I could do similar activities at home with having to get out of my pajamas. So what does that have to do with sales tax? Absolutely nothing.

Yet here I am mumbling and bumbling. I make books. I do book binding and give classes in book binding. I’ve done a few sales but randomly and I’ve always sent off my sale tax forms and a check. But last year, was a bad year mentally. I didn’t do any sales. I did do classes but nothing was sold. I hope to take part in a couple of small local sales this year, but not more than two.

Here, have a cat. That’s Gingersnap. She was once feral. She loves regular meals and soft warm places to sleep. She’s not much for cuddling, but occasionally likes a scratch between her ears.

Ginger in her new box.
Crafting, My own damned opinion., Painting & Drawing, Watercolor painting

A bit behind.

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As usual.

I’ve been offered a small press for block printing for my area of the maker-space. I’ve been asked on tours if we have such a press. A member offered me a small one. I have a few people interested and I have money to purchase it.

I had been thinking about re-purposing my heat press into a printing press for my own use. I would merely use the pressure plate without applying heat. If the small press gets even moderate use, I will invest in a larger one for the area. When I give tours, I am occasionally asked if we have a printing press. It would be nice to say yes.

I finished a few more paintings. One of my maker-space friends and I sat painting and talking while I was waiting for members to show up for needed help. My office hours aren’t too busy, but I find that having the regular hours helps those who are interested in the craft area.

I included the (butt) pear painting under the improved painting.

I didn’t leave until almost 2 in the morning. I didn’t have to get up early since I don’t dog sit anymore. My taxes are finally done and sent. Whoopee! I did forget to file my sakes tax return so I got a bill for $600+. I’ll get it sorted. I didn’t do any sales last year which is why I forgot. I usually complete the form when I’m setting up my tax folder for tax season,

Here’s an interesting article I found online which contains clues about why our delightful congresspersons, the Muskrat, and Fearless Felon can’t conceive of the needs of normal people. It’s not primarily because of the wealth they’ve accrued, but because the power they gain from that wealth affects their brain and lessens their empathy.

https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2017/07/power-causes-brain-damage/528711/

I guess I should be glad I’m not wealthy. I would hate to become someone who cannot empathize with people.

Crafting

Well, I’m glad that’s over.

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I don’t have to see any more Brad Schimel ads. He lost. In spite of all the money Muskrat put in his pot. I’m glad. We really don’t need someone who hates women on the state Supreme Court. Of course, his apologists will say otherwise, but his record speaks for him — hundreds of untested rape kits, belief in an archaic abortion law, rapists let off. Bah!

Someone I used to work with ran for an Alder position on the West Side. She didn’t win, but yay for trying. She’s a very strong minded person, a good librarian, and someone I was friendly with at work. I think she’s younger than me but not by much. I’ve gone from one of the youngest on my block to the oldest. But I still have young attitudes.

There are three houses across the street that still have the residents who were here when I moved in. There are four on my side that haven’t sold yet. These are just on my block. Up the street, in the next block, about half the homes have changed hands since I moved here years ago. Most of the houses were built here to house families working in local manufactories that have since gone out of business.

My house was the original farm house back in the 1920’s when the neighborhood was farm land. Most of the houses that are around me were built in the post-WWII boom. According to a former neighbor who was the oldest on my block when I moved in, six boys were raised in this dollhouse. It’s actually smaller than I would have liked, being the craft supply hoarder that I am, but perfect for one old lady and her cat.

I mean, what’s an old lady without a cat? There used to be four here, plus a dog. I kind of still have them all — in a small plot in the back yard. Every now and again, I do check to make certain they haven’t crawled out to terrorize the neighborhood. You can blame Stephen King and my imagination for that.

Now for some more of my awful watercolors. I actually going to make one or more mini books from them when I finish the series.

Latest paintings.

Have fun. Remember, you’re going to look back on Covid-19 as one of the high points of your lifetime because this year is going suck worse.