There is a chick from Madison Wisconsin from whom I bought a "failed Christmas legends" ornament last year - It was a caterpillar on a mini marlboro box - legend of the tobacco worm - hilarity ensued. Bought it as a gift for a smoking friend, but simply couldn't give it up. Anyhoo, this is some of her lampwork, and like your humble narrator, she views the world in a crafty way, albeit slightly askew. Yee haw. Go bid on this auction - you've got about 10 hours left to possess this "Christmas Rampage" and all the secrets of the universe. Mwahahahahaha!!!

Pre-prequel "The Exorcist" meets Victorian "Village of the Damned." Ew. Creepy in a way only a toddler can be.

Today at long last it is finally wet, drippy dreary and a bit chilly. This, a mere two days after I was debating whether to wear sandals to the family Thanksgiving gatherings. My poor dear hydrangea have been bewitched into a false spring and have sprouted new growth at the base. I only hope the seasonal confusion of 90 degree days in November has not made them overly vulnerable for the cold I hope may finally have arrived.

I have always eschewed the bold colors of orange and yellow in my garden, loving as I do the exquisite near-ultraviolet of lobelia, and sages in ranges of sky-blue to the color purple. I have to have intense reds and magentas, too, but no orange. Ever. Until this summer. I was besotted with these African daisies and brought them home. They continue to bloom, and I expect volunteers to come up next spring after the winter has finished off this lot. Finally crossing over to the orange side, perhaps predictably, I bought scads of obscenely orange blossoming things to complement my ultraviolets. After many years of abstinence, I am an now a full-fledged orange-addict. There are peachy-orange wallflowers(wonderful frangrance!) and similar pansies and violas, and the most remarkable turnaround for me has been the marigold. I always found the pungent odor of marigolds to be quite off-putting, even revolting. However, they are stalwart bloomers and look amazing next to my sages of varying foliage. The peachy flowers are in a pot with lavender, and that is the most stunning combination of all. Will perhaps post a photo of that later. Here are the African Daisies. I can't recommend them enough.

All men have secrets and here is mine, so let it be known:



...at least, that is the opinion of the pastor where my family attends. So be it.

Since her accident, doglet has been ravenous a lot of the time, and it's strange. Husband left a large new container of B complex vitamins on the dining table, and while we were gone she chewed into it and ingested about 30 or so of the things before she tired of the experience. Needless to say, she was illing the rest of the evening. The house still smells like vitamins. Ew. On my best wool rug, yet.

Can't believe the year is almost over. My jewelry was in 2 good shows this weekend, and as of Wednesday my jewelry will be available in Kittrell-Riffkind Art Glass gallery. Muy excited about that one. Fabulous gallery. I was in to pick up some rods for beadmaking today, and they asked me when I was going to bring some of my work in to sell, et voila! 4 dozen pairs they asked for. Time to get my arse in gear.

Was very sad at the outcome of the season finale of HBO's immaculate Rome series. The next season of this series will be in March of 2007, and one of my favorite characters expired. No, not Julius Caesar, although he did die too - that was no surprise, eh?

If a cook on your Christmas list loves seafood, The Secret Life of Lobsters by Trevor Corson is guaranteed to delight them. This book is a good quick read and is a rich narrative of how much has been learned about this mysterious crustacean in the past 40 years, and how people who harvest them have met the popular demand for lobster without compromising the well-being of the species. Much is told of modern research on lobsters, and you will find this book is as long on technical information as it is entertaining. Two seafood forks up. Way up.

Flying home from Arizona after seeing my grandmother for the last time, we flew over wildfires in Arizona. Something about that seemed poetic. The scale was breathtaking, and even in the blazing sunlight, a demonic red glow was occasionally evident below the billowing smoke. It was a thing of terrible beauty.

My April 12 post mentions a hanging basket I had in back a dove nested in. I finally came across the photos, which my friend Kimmer kept insisting I post, so here they are. The brilliant blue flowers (my favorite) are lobelia, the big orange blossom is a Dahlia, the flame-like orange red blossoms are Lotus Vine (Amazon Sunset) and the basket also contains asparagus fern and potato vine. I forgot how pretty it was. More garden images to come...

Vintage psycho stalker valentine. Ew. Want some candy, little girl???

My 2 darling girls - beloved niece and much adored doglet - posing before a doggy fashion show about a week before the dog got run over by a car. She's ok, though - nothing broken- miraculously. She rolled under it like a little hot dog, and though she was in shock and just collapsed to the ground when she tried to stand a few minutes later, she has made a nearly full recovery, with the help of some pain-killer for the creaky old joints. My precious niece is one of the most fabulous humans ever, and she's only 8. Look out, world!

New look. Same old bad attitude.

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To the person who ran over my dog with their ugly car this morning:




Her 14th birthday was yesterday. I forgive you for running over her even though you were going slowly enough that you could have stopped in time to miss her if you had been paying attention to the road. It wasn't your fault that she got out of the house off-leash. What I find so inexplicable is that you could drive off and leave her little 16 pound body in the road for dead or for someone else to drive along and finish off the job. And all this before my very eyes. Thank you for the worst moment of my life.