Friday, May 21, 2010
Prizes! Prizes! Prizes! (and Some Blood)
"Gray, Green, and Red" was my second title choice, and I also considered:
"There Will Be Blood"
"Don't Look At My Crocs"
"!@#$ This Hurts Like a $o% of a &!$#^"
I am loath to tell this story. I would prefer to keep it to myself. Hip, young people are going to laugh their hip, young posteriors off at me, and I am vain enough to care. I am somewhat defeated, extremely annoyed, quite embarrassed, and in considerable pain. I seethe colorful language, barely inaudibly.
If I go to the Dr., they are going to hurt me more.
I know it.
Have you ever seen the bristle brushes they use to clean wounds?
Have you ever been scrubbed by one?
Do you know what will hurt more than the vigorous bristle scrubbing from Nurse Diesel?
The humiliation of paying money to hear the Dr. say, "Phhh. It's only a flesh wound."
Once upon a Wednesday morning, after sorting out the chaos of the high school lock-down and bomb threat/ gas leak/ bong scare, I decided to continue my gentle, post-sickness, long, slow walk to fitness program. I caught up with friends. I took May Gray pictures of the low tide beach. I declined the up and down the bluff stairs, because I am still tending the torn "something" in my right leg. Wasn't I cautious and good?
May Gray, beautifully contrasted with low tide green. Slippery, hard, crusted, abrasive, green.
So. I was actually having a conversation with myself, about being careful. About how falling on the rocks is easy to do, even for experienced sea chicas like myself. I even considered taking off my shoes, but then I would have the camera and the shoes... and nah, I didn't want to hassle. So I continued slowly, and cautiously.
And I fell.
My shoe slipped.
My shin slammed the edge of a barnacled rock, then slid down.
I donated flesh and blood.
The "slam" part hurt the most... shockingly so.
The blood part was an unanticipated bonus.
Sharks raised their noses, and clapped their pectoral fins.
Here comes the blood...
Proof of so many things...
1. I am a true photo junkie.
2. Crocs are from the devil. I was seduced by their amazing comfort, then tossed to the sharks by their zero traction tread. (Geoff took them out back and shot them with a silver bullet.)
It really is only a flesh wound, and I would show you pictures of it today, except that it looks about ten times more disgusting. I showered it at the beach, then scrubbed it in the State Park office, then bandaged it with antibiotic ointment. I even fed it Bull Taco tacos, before limping back to my car.
It hurts too much.
Do you know what I mean?
I have a pain level expectation for an injury of this nature, and it is exceeding my expectations. I can walk around, vacuum, and drive, but it hurts. The concerning part is that it is progressively hurting more, and if I have been resting then get up, the pain is... "unbearable." Or like "really, really not good." Like "my leg is not going to hold me up," and then I utter inaudible sentence enhancers. There is swelling around my ankle.
Hey, I hardly notice the torn "something" in my right leg.
Doctor time, right?
(insert barely inaudible sentence enhancers and other colorful phrases)
In other news!
You can still leave a comment, or many comments, and be eligible for our Sunday Night Chickenblogiversary Drawing! You may get something really awesome! It could come from Maker Faire!!! It could from Geoff's favorite gadget store!!!
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Prize, Prizes, Prizes! Where Was I?
Yesterday's long, slow walk post ended rather abruptly. I was amblin' and ramblin', then I realized I wasn't where I was supposed to be, so I had to dash.
I am glad people are dropping by. Nice to have the company, and nice for you to have a chance in the blogiversary drawing. Comment before Sunday night for a chance at a... uh... to get something good.
I think I should name Millie Chciekenblog's greatest promoter. She has cat bloggers from around the world dropping by. I think they are here for BFTC Mc Dreamy or maybe they want to meet the Ratty-Rats... Pepper and Polly. Whichever it is... Welcome kitty bloggers. Plenty of gophers out back, help yourself to fresh water from the bird bath.
Those Adirondack chairs, the yellow ones, those are available for your seating pleasure at Pannikin Coffee and Tea in Leucadia. I like the Greek Eggs, and Mexican hot chocolate.
And my Lusk friends, the frogs perched on the big ceramic urn are part of a fountain. Not sure you can see the water...
We love this fountain. We love frogs.
We love Builders Trading Company, where we can browse and dream while admiring all the recycled hardware, doors, and windows, and building odds and ends.
I should confirm this, but I am almost certain that the frogs are the work of Laird Plumleigh. I am a quiet fan of his ceramic work, especially the Torrey Pines, and his more whimsical animals. They speak to me of a foggy California Coast, and long, slow walks.
Speaking of whimsical, how about the grinning horse? It's a big wooden horse, the size you'd expect for a carousel, but I don't think that is what its purpose is. I don't know if it's for sale. I don't know what they'd charge for it. I don't know why I think I might like to work this in to my decor.
So, did you see the Maker Faire badge at the bottom of yesterday's post? I was working up to explaining that we are going to the mothership of Geek Goodness and Artistic Joy.
I think this is going to be like finding our people, our hearts, our Geek brothers and sisters, our Steampunk Counsins, our DIY mentors. We already know we are going to feel astounded and amazed. We already know we'll wish we came in costumes, or in six cupcakes cars. We already know we want to Steampunk-pimp our minivan ride. What other marvels await us? Will we be able to leave?
Now, I have not said the word r-o-b-o-t in a long time, but I think it fair to warn you that Science Sunday, and the Art of Engineering are two Chickenblog themes that are about to enjoy ginormous growth and inspiration after Maker Faire. Robots, bicycles, windmills, painting, making, writing, computer generated graphics, video, steam boats, SteamPunk, sharing, Geeking and Making are just some of the things we want to explore... all those ideas, so many good ideas. We are ready.
Time to go.
I've been ambin' and ramblin' again.
I will be back soon.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
More Long, Slow Walks
First of all, this is a celebration day, which we are extending through the weekend. We can do that because this is Chcikenblog and after eight years we are entitled to liberties with our celebrations.
Happy Blogiversary Chickenblog!!!
Grab a mug, pull up a chair, and hang out.
I don't have the faintest idea what this post is going to be about. Sort of. I just have too many ideas, each fussing to get out and be expressed.
This is random musings.
Let's begin this way: There will be prizes!
Geoff said so. He said it like this: "You should have a giveaway." Then he made fancy, generous suggestions. Then he reminded me, "You've received more than you've given." And I mocked injury and said, "Harsh."
But he's right. Chickenblog has received amazing friendships, connections, support, prizes, gifts, encouragement, humor, patience, insight, and kindness. I hesitate to list everything, for fear I will leave someone out. But if you check the list of bloggers, the Artists and Poets, Cooks and Farmers, Scientists and Inventors in the sidebar, then you are seeing at least some of the generous contributors to Chcikenblog's blessings.
I know. Typo. I am seriously amused and confused: I type "chicken" wrong about 90% of the time, and it's a habit I cannot seem to kick. The irony at least is a terrific source of amusement for me.
Where was I?
We want to have a little fun, and show a little gratitude, so there will be two drawings this week. One drawing will be for a gadget, something Geoff will choose. And he is generous. Believe me. The other prize will have a California theme, because we live in California. And I love California, and I have been taking long, slow walks, and falling ever more in love with my home state.
Hmmm... when should I have the actual name pulling out of the fez? It's a busy week. Lot's going on. Lot's to get ready for. I am going to say that the drawing will be Sunday, May 23, at 8 PM. All comments from today until 7:59 PM Sunday will be counted as drawing entries, one entry per person please.
Okay then. There it is.
Next up: Cake.
Don't you think there should be cake for a blogiversary? Could be. We make this stuff up as we go. If not cake, then maybe an after school beach picnic, or another stroll along Coast Highway 101, sticking our heads in to shops, meeting more Artists and Poets, Cooks and Farmers, Scientists and Inventors.
So many good choices. So many opportunities. So many ideas fussing to get out and be expressed.
We may have to stop some place comforting and stimulating along the way.
Here is some randomness: Who remembers the original Martha Stewart program? It was only half an hour long, and it was not recorded in a huge sound-stage-studio. She hosted from her home(s), or at least a modest soundstage, without an audience, and she visited people... skilled craftspeople, bakers, artists, farmers, shopkeepers, cooks, authors... they were "real" people. Do we have a word for people that are not "celebrities," for people that work, and make things, and function without stylists and an entourage? I respect those people.
Anyway, I really enjoyed Martha's old show, because it introduced the viewer to interesting individuals who were doing interesting things, and she celebrated their contributions in intimate, meaningful ways. It actually gave me a sense of community with the world at large, and it made me glad to see things made, to know that people were proud of their work, and they were happy to share it. I admire men and women, boys and girls, that show an interest in things. I like to read about makers, thinkers, creators, and I like to meet them and hear their stories, see their faces when they talk about what they love.
It is our good fortune that we have met such people through Chcikenblog, and to our delight, we have met such people on our long, slow walks. Whether we are Chickens Abroad and meeting a blog friend in Brussels, or we are enjoying domestic art, we love passing time and sharing ideas with makers, thinkers, creators, poets, and farmers.
So many ideas fussing to get out!
Sunday, May 16, 2010
The Laundry Was Done...
It was about ten thirty this morning, when I paused to recognize a momentous occurrence. All of the washed and dried clothing was folded, put on hangers and put away. If I over analyze this occurrence I will certainly blow it apart and destroy its subtle beauty: Not all dirty clothes were washed, and some clothes are even still in packed boxes. It is not perfection that I dream of. It is not sterile, detailed, holy domestic Marthaness that I aspire to achieve. No. No, I was honoring a moment, a real moment of genuine success. Minor, perhaps, but it was mine, and I loved it. No more clothes falling off the sofa and heaped on the coffee table!
I pruned the roses. We have nine rose bushes, and they are beautiful. They make big roses. Truthfully, they make more roses than I am worthy of... than I am capable of managing, even appreciating. I think I get intimidated, then overwhelmed, and then slightly resentful... absurd, I know.
Settle down, you big and fragrant, abundant blooms. I cannot cut you and put you in vases, change the water frequently, and sweep up your falling petals. Quit being so prolific and alluring, so seductive that I feel remiss when I do not stop to inhale your sweet essence. Please stop reminding me that you need feeding, and extra long drinks of dihydrogen monoxide.
It feels like such a major accomplishment: I pruned the roses. I cut some and filled about four vases. I brought a jar of roses to our neighbors. I even corralled all the trimmings in to the correct receptacle.
So well done.
Yeah, I am in that kind of mood. Recognizing all that needs to be done, should be done, wants to be done, begs to be done, and what never gets done.
Joe. Joe, how do you do it?
You are fit, handsome.
You've never tried waxing your brows, or floors.
You don't blog, or Twitter, or text, and yet you seem well adjusted, and well enough connected to have lived long and contentedly.
What is your filing system?
How do you organize your car?
Have you resigned yourself to housework, forgoing sewing, cooking, projects, and parties?
Do you get outside help?
Would you have a friend over, even if your bed were unmade, or if your sink was piled up with several days worth of dirty cups, pots, and forks?
If you had four children would you resent the homework hours, the paperwork?
Would you ache for summer break to begin, so you could watch movies, sleep in, and stay all day at the beach?
Help me Joe.
The laundry success was so fleeting, so small. Now there are more clothes that need hanging, and more spinning in the suds. The boys cannot go to the movies, because they have homework. Geoff is working on those twenty-three inch deep garden beds, and I think he thinks I do not appreciate him, but I do. Maria needs a bath. The cats need shots. Everything needs vacuuming or scrubbing. I need courage, encouragement, and perhaps a dose of ignorance... something to convince me that of course things will get done, and be okay.
Tell me Your woes and challenges... then we can laugh and cry together. Nothing seems as bad, when you can laugh and cry with someone.
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