Category Archives: Mostly me

Shadowboxes and Paintings

My shadow box swaps of Alice in Wonderland and The Wizard of Oz are nearly done. I still need to make labels. I’m thinking of using cuts pieces from aluminum cans to make embossed title tags which will be attached to the top faces of the frames.

Alice in Oz
Dorothy in Wonderland

These were just a wacky idea I had for using leftover papers from two cardstock bundles. I’ve already done tunnels books using these papers. I sold the Wizard of Oz tunnel book at my last sale as well as a smaller Alice tunnel book. I still have the larger Alice tunnel book.

I’m 2 days behind already with my new painting project. This week has been more busy than usual with two different mechanics to deal with a car problem, a doctor appointment, a lab appointment, and temporarily not being able to use my main arm due to straining my rotator cuff while prepping fresh veggies for the week.

The shoulder is less painful now. But I haven’t been as careful of that shoulder as I should be. I most likely should have had the surgery when I was diagnosed with a torn rotator cuff. Instead, I settled for 4 years of on and off physical therapy on the university’s dime because my boss wouldn’t believe me when I told her I couldn’t do certain motions during the move to our new space. I can be petty.

I hadn’t had too much trouble with that shoulder until recently. I’ve lifted more than I should trying to get my craft room back in order. I moved the guest bed back to its corner in an attempt to encourage the boomerang child out of the house.

He still can’t find a job. My thought is that in spite of a population of a quarter million residents, we still live in a place that’s more like a series of small towns where people in my son’s field know him as unreliable. I don’t think he’s worked more than a year at any of his jobs. There could also be the matter of his alcoholic past. The only reason he’s not drinking is he has no income except for selling plasma. That barely supports his smoking habit.

There’s not a lot I can do to help him, except maybe to trade him for my oldest grandson who’s not doing that well either. He lives in a town with two gas stations and a Walmart. Not much opportunity there. There used to be three grocery stores and some small shops, but nobody has any money, so no jobs. What a great time to be alive! /s

My car is back.

It looks almost new. The yellow paint from our road trip to my oldest granddaughter’s wedding was scrubbed off and the dent pulled out. That was the souvenir dent and scrape from our stop in Scranton to see the museum of the show “The Office.”

I finished both of my Lego succulent sets. They’ll last longer than most of my plants although I do have a plant that is over 30 years. I have no idea what it was except practically unkillable. It’s moved cross-country twice, moved from three rentals and two cities in the early part of this century and has been in this house for 19 years. It now seems to be in its last year. I have two others that were cuttings from this plant so it will still live on.

I’m almost finished putting my craft room back together. I brought the table I had in my studio back so I could set up my work area. I’m still sorting things back into their proper places. I’ll start bring things back from my studio for the paper crafting that I do and will keep the studio as a place to paint. At least for now, I’ll keep it. It may turn out that I may not have enough income to continue if the mess that we call a government keeps proceeding as it is.

Some of our more maga (I will not capitalize it) state representatives want to make criticism of Israel a hate crime. I’m already sent my “no way” to the Governor to reject this as a violation of the First Amendment protecting free speech.

My opinion is that Israel’s government as well as our government are not right to attack Iran or any other country that disagrees with our actions. Our Senators and Representatives needs to get their collective heads out of Tangerine Twittler’s ass and do their jobs.

Okay.

Pinterest just showed me a spatula/spoonish-shaped thing for applying butt cream on a baby. My jaw fell open. Are parents these day too paranoid to touch baby butts that need cleaning? Or are they leaving diapers for longer periods of time because of cost, so that diaper rash is more common?

I admit my baby caring days are very last century with cloth diapers, diaper pails, and such. I used the disposable diapers on trips or outings, but for the most part, cloth diapers were my normal go-to. But that was just me.

I also had a neighbor that objected to my youngest’s daily summer air nap. I used to put him in a small crib in the carport on nice days, totally without clothing. I’d be there on a lounger reading a book and my neighbor who was way younger than me, would come over and complain that my baby was naked. Every single time!

I finally asked her why she was looking. It was because she could see his “private parts.” So I asked her again why she was looking. She had no good answer. She never complained again. I still don’t know why a naked baby in a carport 30 feet from her house triggered her.

I did find out later that she was from the Wisconsin version of Pennsyltucky, so that might have been the reason. There are a lot of small towns up north that are just like the insular towns in other rural areas of the country.

But back to the butt spatula/spoon thing — they come in colors and multiple sizes. There’s what looks like a suction cup on the handle end so the thing stands upright on a flat surface. You can buy sets. It’s the future of baby care where infants are handled by machines and left in “pods” until they’re large enough to be put in creches with other pod children wearing headsets wired to their brains for “education.”

The way things are going with the current government, this might happen. 1984, Brave New World, and The Handmaids Tale were not meant to be blueprints for the future. But here we are.

House of depression.

I need to start making lists again so I can accomplish more than just sitting around listening to podcasts and sci-fi stories on YouTube. I’m barely accomplishing the daily minimum of washing dishes and making my bed. I’m sleeping more than usual.

I haven’t been working on my paintings although I don’t have that many more to do to reach 100. I haven’t been using my studio lately except to hang my coat which makes it a very expensive coat room. So what’s my excuse? I actually have anti-depressants, but I think I need to get a different prescription. They do become ineffective after a couple of years.

The other thing I need to do is to get the Boomerang Child out of my space. He needs to find work and get out of my space. I’d sell my house to get rid of him, but I can’t afford an apartment in this city. Well, not a two bedroom which is what I would need for my crafting, weaving, and bookbinding.

The Boomerang Child needs therapy, medication and a job. Especially a job. He spends most of his time upstairs sleeping with the lights on and the tv going. He’s made himself a little space in the garage where he can sit out of the weather and smoke. He gets money by donating plasma twice a week so he can afford cigarettes.

He’s not really looking for a job. He used to be a cook, but almost everyone in the food business in town has been burned by him not showing up because he feels bad or got stupid drunk.

He seems to have given up drinking which is a good thing. I no longer find beer cans in the recycle bin. The Not-Wife cut off his phone again. So even if there’s a job offer out there, he won’t get it. Their relationship is more toxic than my former marriage to his drunken sperm donor.

Oh well, new year, old crap.

What am I doing?

Well, the first thing was waiting for files to transfer to my backup drive from my laptop since I stupidly got rid of the working drive and kept the dead one.

The next thing was to trip over the cat and spill juice into said laptop and kill it. I swear I’m not brain dead, but it’s certainly starting to seem that way. Most files were in various clouds and a couple of external drives, so now I’m double-checking to see what’s missing.

Some files and programs are from a previous laptop that died midway through setting up the maker-space’s library. I pulled that hard drive, bought a housing for it and use that one for storage as well as a 2-terabyte portable storage device.

I use the portable drive to store files and programs to run on an inexpensive laptop I bought to keep at the maker-space to teach members to use software for our Cricut cutting machine and for use with other CNC tools such as the laser cutter, the big vinyl cutter, and the embroidery machine.

Right now, that’s my only computer until I save up for a better one. I still have my iPads, although the older one is used more for watching YouTube videos and is kept in my studio. There’re no programs of value on it except Pinterest, Slack, Zoom, Chrome, YouTube, and my maker-space email.

I’m still doing my watercolor project. I finally got caught up. I was a bit behind – by about six paintings, I think. I’m also making mini blank notebooks. They are tiny, suitable for a pocket or purse, and great as a small gift for a child. I’m doing some watercolor abstracts to be trimmed down as covers for the mini books.

Civics Rant Again

This country was founded on a dream that all men could be free to live, worship, and find a way to start and make a better life. Later this freedom was extended to women, blacks, Native Americans, and immigrants fleeing oppression and poverty.

The dream has not yet been realized. The former slaves still endure harsh conditions, fueled by resentment that they were no longer slaves under control. Native Americans, confined to Reservations, with less opportunities of education, employment, and opportunity have a higher mortality and shorter lifespan of even poor Blacks and immigrants.

The quality of education has declined as politicians, less educated community members, and religious extremists have dumbed down, eliminated, or sanitized courses that would teach students the reality of our history, the responsibilities of citizenship, the general history of the rest of the world, and critical thinking.

Classrooms have become one-size education fits no one. The smarter students are dragged down by teachers having to spend more time with their less enthusiastic co-students. There is less incentive to do well because no one will acknowledge the work and effort put in.

As students in the “olden days,” most of us got the same basic level of education from first to ninth grades, depending on what part of the country we lived in. Students in poorer areas and some larger cities with larger poor populations did not always have the same opportunities for schooling.

Most students moved up grades. Some stayed behind for another year until they “got it.” A few were just passed along. Some students were able to choose classes that would lead to a career path.

Many students started to learn “life skills” — typing, drafting, home economics — in addition to higher maths, English composition, basic science skills, civics, history, and even a foreign language.

High School was where we separated into those who would most likely attend a college or university. The courses were harder — chemistry and biology, calculus and trigonometry, written language skills and research papers.

The second level of courses were for those students who would most likely become office workers — typing classes ( which were open to the College Prep students as well), bookkeeping, stenography, and business communications and business math.

The next level was general education. These were the students who had no interest in college or business, or had no means of getting into a place of higher education. They became auto mechanics, and repair persons, builders, and the folks who became the trash collectors.

We college prep folks and business students were taught to look down on these lesser beings — people who worked with their hands. We didn’t understand that these were the people who would ultimately live better lives as the people who kept our lights on, fixed the machinery that made and still make, our lives easy.

These were the folks who earned good money in the factories that made everything we used, grew and processed the food we ate, entered the military as a way to make a life. The funny thing about those folks — they were brainwashed into believing that they were not worthy unless their children went to college or business school to become better.

Which brings us to now— where we rely on immigrants to make and repair the equipment we use, to harvest our crops, to clean up our messes, to do the work that our families did to give us the lives we had.

And we complain about immigrants “taking our jobs!” The very jobs we were told by our parents and leaders that we were too good to do. And those migrants are sending their children to college to become like us— too proud to do the types of jobs our parents and grandparents did because it’s hard work.

It’s okay if you didn’t finish reading this. I lost track of where I was going anyway.

Here’s a cat butt.

Catching up

Medicare doesn’t cover annual physicals for us old folks. They only cover wellness checks. So I spent time mostly answering questions about my quality of life in the negative which confirmed the positive quality of my old age. Sounds odd, doesn’t it? Anyway, I passed, so I guess I’m doing well.

The Boomerang Child talked about getting some mental health treatment. As far as I can tell, he hasn’t made a move to do so. I fully expect to find him dead one day. I’ve had low periods— spent many an evening contemplating whether it would hurt for a long time if I slit some part of my body or if I took pills and drank alcohol, would I wake up in the morning.

The answer is yes, it hurts and I did wake up the next morning. More than once. The worst time was being held down while my stomach was pumped. I spent two weeks locked in the psych ward for that one. That was over 50 years ago. Now that I’m older, I don’t have time for that foolishness.

I’m still six paintings behind in working my way up to 100. I should have 83, but I’m only up to 79. I bought four frames from Dollar Tree and inserted some paintings. They’re not horrible.

Latest additions

In other news

I am still working on my 100 paintings project. In spite of disruptions, I’ve managed to complete 71. I was painting in my studio only, but have moved a paint palette back home to paint when my son borrows my car. I don’t fancy having what amounts to a two hour bus commute to the maker-space rather than the 10 minute drive I do now.

The city in its infinite wisdom had “streamlined,” “improved” the bus service. The buses still run frequently, but I’d have to take at minimum two buses by going in the wrong direction — first up to the Capitol Square to transfer to the bus that will eventually drop me off near the shop or, walk in one direction to catch one bus that will go up 2 miles, where I’d need to catch another bus to meet up with a third bus to loop around eventually go within walking distance to the shop.

The maker-space is in negotiations with our new landlords about adding on to our space by renting the seasonally-used suite next to us. They’re willing to do that but want to increase our rent by almost 40% per square foot for the total square footage. We’re the only permanent tenants with two companies renting seasonal storage to either side of us. The new area we wish to move into is used for seasonal storage of rental bicycles.

In addition, we’re losing our parking lot out front. It was actually sold by the previous owners to a developer who will be putting housing there. The city is losing its character. All the new housing built recently, and still being built is boring. They all look like stacks of freight containers with balconies. There’s no play spaces for kids because the buildings are built over parking ramps with token green space. Very dystopian looking.

Unfortunately, tomorrow I will not be going to the protest. I anticipate that there will be agitators there to start violence — not the folks protesting but plants to start a riot of some sort. I have a thing inside my skull that could become an aneurism if I’m struck just right. Otherwise, I’d be right there up front.

Remember, if we wanted a king, we’d still be British. Many writers in the ‘40’s and ‘50’s warned us that this would happen, but we didn’t really believe that those fictional stories would become reality.

Something to remember for this Saturday’s events – Abridged First Amendment included—long post.

Stay safe out there. Take precautions to insure your safety and health by wearing a mask to prevent airborne viruses that may be present in large crowds. Don’t use poles or sticks that can be interpreted as weapons to hold your signs. Use an old phone or other device to document incidents instead of the phone you’d normally carry. There will be agents of chaos out there looking for excuses for violence.

The First Amendment of the United States Constitution protects the right to freedom of religion and freedom of expression from government interference.

It prohibits any laws that establish a national religion, impede the free exercise of religion, abridge the freedom of speech, infringe upon the freedom of the press, interfere with the right to peaceably assemble, or prohibit people from petitioning for a governmental redress of grievances. It was adopted into the Bill of Rights in 1791. 


The Supreme Court interprets the extent of the protection afforded to these rights. The First Amendment has been interpreted by the Court as applying to the entire federal government even though it is only expressly applicable to Congress. Furthermore, the Court has interpreted the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment as protecting the rights in the First Amendment from interference by state governments. 


Freedom of Religion
Two clauses in the First Amendment guarantee freedom of religion. The Establishment Clause prohibits the government from passing legislation to establish an official religion or preferring one religion over another. It enforces the “separation of church and state.” The Free Exercise Clause prohibits the government, in most instances, from interfering with a person’s practice of their religion.


Freedom of Speech / Freedom of the Press
The most basic component of freedom of expression is the right to freedom of speech. Freedom of speech may be exercised in a direct (words) or a symbolic (actions) way. Freedom of speech is recognized as a human right under article 19 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. 


The right to freedom of speech allows individuals to express themselves without government interference or regulation. Generally, a person cannot be held liable, either criminally or civilly for anything written or spoken about a person or topic, so long as it is truthful or based on an honest opinion and such statements.


The right to free speech includes other mediums of expression that communicate a message. The level of protection speech receives also depends on the context in which it takes place.   


The right to freedom of the press guaranteed by the First Amendment is not very different from the right to freedom of speech. It allows an individual to express themselves through publication and dissemination.


Right to Assemble / Right to Petition


The right to assemble allows people to gather for peaceful and lawful purposes. Implicit within this right is the right to association and belief. The Supreme Court has expressly recognized that a right to freedom of association and belief is implicit in the First, Fifth, and Fourteenth Amendments. Freedom of assembly is recognized as a human right under article 20 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. 


This implicit right is limited to the right to associate for First Amendment purposes. It does not include a right of social association. The government may prohibit people from knowingly associating with groups that engage in and promote violent or illegal activities. 


The right to associate also prohibits the government from requiring a group to register or disclose its members or from denying government benefits on the basis of an individual’s current or past membership in a particular group. 


There are exceptions to this rule where the Court finds that governmental interests in disclosure/registration outweigh interference with First Amendment rights. The government may also, generally, not compel individuals to express themselves, hold certain beliefs, or belong to particular associations or groups.


The right to petition the government for a redress of grievances guarantees people the right to ask the government to provide relief for a wrong through litigation or other governmental action. It works with the right of assembly by allowing people to join together and seek change from the government.

I forgot to note that most of this information came from The Cornell Law School website https://www.law.cornell.edu/wex/first_amendment.

Death and Depression

I am dealing with a seriously depressed son. First, his sister’s ex-husband who was his friend, died. Then the guy’s mother whom my son met at his niece’s wedding, died of an aneurism on Sunday. Several days later, he received a text that his dad was dead.

Because of his grief for his friend, as well as another argument in a long history of fights with the Not-Wife, he kept calling into his job. Since he was a recent hire, they let him go. The friend’s mother’s death was a surprise to everyone.

The text instead of a phone call, from his snobby Aunt, to let him know his dad died was the final blow. He has been upset. His ex has been helping him deal with some of the loss. They are still close friends who will stop fighting and help each other out, and then resume arguing later.

Later….

I got a text from the Boomerang Child. He had a trip to the ER. He’s trying to stop drinking, but without his gut being numbed by alcohol, his throat and stomach rebelled. I wish him luck, but alcoholism flows through his genetic makeup.

I came close once, but made a conscious decision to control my drinking. Of course, if you look in the wardrobe in my bedroom, you’d find a nice selection of labels. But they’re hidden, but not from me but from my son. Alcohol interferes with my meds so I’d rather use it as flavoring and as a base for tinctures and extracts. I’ll probably toss most of it, including the wine stashed in the basement. I don’t think it’s aged well. I’m not certain I even want to open the bottles.

My son brought me a Mike’s Harder Lemonade as a birthday drink. I sipped about an ounce before my head went funny. It took me 20 minutes to drink that much. The rest got spilled on the floor when my dizzy self tried to stand up. It took at least 10 of my shop rags to blot it all up off the floor. He thought I drank it all because I poured a bottle of lemon water into a glass with ice. It looked the same.

More paintings coming soon.