date Sun, Oct 4, 2009 at 7:57 AM
subject Notes
hide details 7:57 AM (0 minutes ago)

This morning I stopped at the gas station on the winding road that leads to my “in-laws” house. I had just delivered the children for a day of some form of extravagant fun.
There was a handwritten sign, poster-size, propped on the pole of the old sign, which had been covered by a flapping white tarp.
“Under New Management.”
Another sign, similarly terse and matter of fact said: “free coffee all day.”
Inside they didn’t have the tea I like and a bulldog-faced man with piggish blue eyes was shoveling food into his mouth, whole wedges of club sandwich from an IHOP box. I looked at the drink cases, overwhelmed for a minute by all the shining cylinders, my tired reflection transparent in the glass.
“You want my fries?” The man growled. The store stunk of them. I knew he wasn’t talking to me. But, I had the sense that he was talking because of me. I was the only person in the store.
The woman at the counter was stone-faced, neither accepting or denying the fries. She appeared to want to be invisible. It was hard to breathe in the store. I approached the counter with a drink I didn’t really want. I couldn’t find my debit card or a single crumpled bill. The man thunked the fries on the counter beside the woman. Offered me a bag and, as I walked out I heard him croak, “Have a nice day.”

At the stoplight, I noticed a beaten Deville with dealer plates. The letters D, l, and e had been stripped, leaving only the word, “evil”. An old man with ball cap hunched in the front seat.

Overfed county boys at the museum today. They were gigantic. Tall and fat. Obsessed with getting the ball blaster working correctly. Their father was wearing suspenders and uneven cut-offs, sneakers peeling away in clay-caked layers. He claimed to be an engineer and seemed somewhat quick-of-mind, despite his big, slow sons and his own strange filthiness. Maybe he’s to busy being a brilliant country engineer to worry about bathing. This is what I thought as he lectured me about solenoids and electrical safety.
I mentioned how his sons had been hovering as I tried to fix the exhibit. Ridiculously hovering. I must have seemed interesting. Skinny lady with tattooed hands, wielding an set of wrenches.

Strange scar in the sky this morning. I wonder what a cloud like that is called. There was about four minutes between these two pictures. It blows my mind, how much we are capable of missing.
I need to admit to myself that my camera is lousy. That it captures only impressions. The Monet of affordable digital cameras.
My sewing machine is broken, too. Am I going to hand-stitch all those placentas? I need to start a wish-list. Perhaps someone will buy me a camera or take my sewing machine to the repair shop on the far northern edge of town. The machine has been in the trunk of the car for a week and 1/2 now. My intentions are solid, the logistics of follow-through are flimsy at best.

Yes, I’ve been emailing myself again. My brain skips along, and I know all too well that ideas and impressions are fleeting. I will remember the “a-ha!” – but the content is lost. Here is a list of ideas I have had this weekend:

A seat belt system for school buses. Do school buses already have seat belts?
A book project with my kids – things you can find under a rock, as well as a fulcrum-device for lifting rocks while standing back, lest the black widows be lurking.
getting an Irish Wolfhound
Leo’s idea: a rock and sand blaster to destroy wasp nests without poisons. I suggested the addition of an simple, biodegradable polymer to bind the nest and make it uninhabitable. Guar gum and borax? We’ve been making “snot” out of this combination at the museum. It might goo up a wasp nest nicely.
Still thinking about prom dress placentas. Maybe I’ll go to Goodwill today. We have bags upon bags to drop off after the Great Purge of Summer 2009 – in which I heartlessly excavated the house. Still in progress, as things pile up quite quickly. If the right dress for beginning is there, I will take it as a sign.

The chickens are coming on Tuesday. (October 6th – a friends birthday.) I have not built them a castle yet. I have a small coop, that once housed a rabbit named Captain. (The lure of lady rabbits was too strong. He escaped the unescapable. I expect to see some interesting hybridized wild rabbits come spring.)

I could put the coop in the spare room for the time being. Of course, then I would have chickens in the house. I’m not sure of the implications of this. I am certain that there is a city ordinance against having chickens in your house. Maybe I’ll build the castle today. Yes. Yes, I will.
(Silver-Laced Wyandottes, the type of chicks we are getting.)

I need to re-focus for a moment. Isn’t this blog about trying to draw a picture everyday. Yes. Yes, it is. I have been drawing everyday – for the most part. On days when the opportunity to draw escapes me, I try to make up for it by drawing two pictures the following day. Cheating. Yup. Nonetheless, I find the exercise helpful and my mind seems to have responded well to the creative discipline. The only problem is that I am now amassing a great quantity of drawings – in various stages of completion. I also seem to have a surplus of ideas. All of which are feasible, depending on my commitment to seeing them to fruition. I wish I’d started this years ago. I could use the lost time now.

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