Tag: Harriet

Pets, Photography

Happy Birthday, Harriet!

Shelly

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I’ve never been good at letting sleeping dogs lie. I’m more apt to poke them, just because I can.  Make of that what you will.

In the literal sense, this is why Boxers are one of my very favoritest breeds. They just do not care. If there’s nothing better to do, they’ll sleep, but as soon as it looks like there might be something more interesting on offer (poke, poke), they’re ready to go-go-go.

Right now, Harriet is crashed out behind my computer chair, napping away and generally being lazy.  Tomorrow is her 7th birthday, which is not an old age for a dog.  Boxers never grow up, but they don’t generally have a long life-span, so it’s a little sad to think that she’s getting on in age.  She’s been greying around the muzzle for quite awhile now, and yesterday I noticed that her front legs are starting to turn grey, too.  She’s also developed white patches inside her ears

So happy birthday a day early, because I’m likely to forget tomorrow, what with my swiss cheese brain and all.

Art, Collage, Pets, Photography

It’s a good, good (Fri)day

Shelly

I just saw two swallowtail butterflies flitting about in my yard. Spring has definitely arrived. Summer, too, perhaps. It’s supposed to be around 85F today. O ick. And it’s supposed to storm this afternoon, so I thought I’d update and upload while I can.

First, some spring photos.

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The first three were taken this morning. It stormed at about 4am, but the morning was absolutely gorgeous. The horse in the first photo had just calmed down. He’d been running around and rolling in the grass, full of joie de spring, which was super cute, but not so photogenic in a distance shot.

Next, Teh Cute and Teh Silly:

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What can I say? Boxers are unbelievably weird. They do a silly kidney bean dance, wherein they whip their bodies in half, bending back and forth, accompanied by hilariously funny nubbin wagging. It’s ludicrously cute, but not easy to photograph. I tried to get video of it, but no dice. In the second photo she’s just plain lost it. Boxers are notoriously sassy. They love to talk back. This is Harriet woo-wooing at me. My timing was not good, because I was laughing, so I missed the part where she scrunches up her floppy lips and purses them in a perfect O. You can see a little bit of the lip action, but it’s not as impressive as it could be.

And now, the art. Three of them contain Polaroids I’ve altered using sandpaper and/or bleach.

Diptych: Faun
Diptych: Faun

Diptych: Alba
Diptych: Alba
5 1/2 x 5 1/2
collage (altered Polaroid photo, brass beads, unbleached waxed paper, pieces of burnt paper, and fragment from 1854 patent book) and acrylic paint on 90lb Stonehenge paper

Reissue and Extension
Reissue and Extension
5 1/2 x 5 1/2 inches
collage (stone beads, braided hemp twine, copper wire, and fragment from 1854 patent book) and drawing (Sarasa gel ink and dandelion pulp) on 90lb Stonehenge paper

The paper was stained beforehand with instant coffee. I made the flower by pounding a dandelion into the paper, then drawing around it using a Sarasa retractable gel pen and water brush. The ink in these pens is dye based. It doesn’t skip and it bleeds when wet.

The Bone of a Thought
The Bone of a Thought
5 1/2 x 5 1/2 inches
collage (altered Polaroid photo, bone fragment, brass brads, unbleached waxed paper, and fragment from 1854 patent book) and acrylic paint on 90lb Stonehenge paper

Pets

Ball Redux

Shelly

Ball has returned.  I found it while sorting the pile of stuff that accumulates under the coffee table.  Harriet was overjoyed, and much hilarity ensued.  Alas, I was too busy laughing to take pictures, but it looked a little like this.  Harriet is an enthusiastic jokester, but her sense of humor does not extend to Ball.  Ball, she takes very, very seriously.  Do not mess with Ball, pleaseandthanks.  Of course, that didn’t stop me from torturing her.  That’s what dogs are for, right?

Crankypantsing, Pets

Over It

Shelly

Okay, that little taste of spring was quite nice, but I’ve suddenly reached my limit.  You see, I found a wee baby tick last night.  There is no creature on God’s green earth that is more loathsome than the tick. Ticks are repulsive, disgusting vectors of disease and they have no business bringing themselves within a country mile of me.  I want a restraining order.

So, I broke out the Frontline and have place an order for a Preventic collar.  Just the one.  And, wow, did that ever feel weird.  I’m used to stocking up by ordering 4-6 tick collars at a time.  There’s no need to do that now, though, since I’m down to one nekkid dog.  A tick collar will last Harriet a full three months, instead of the usual 30 days for the Chowy dog.

Art, Crankypantsing, Pets, Photography

Potato-Tomato

Shelly

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Happy Monday! I woke up this ayem with a stiff shoulder and sore back. I hate it when I get a sleep injury. It’s really not a good way to start the week, I think. It could be worse, though. One of my coworkers got a speeding ticket this morning. I know the area where she got it, and it’s only a fluke that I haven’t gotten one in that spot, myself. The speed limit goes from 45mph to 35mph to 45mph, so it’s easy for your speed creep up without realizing it.

So, here’s a question. I do a lot of journaling, of both the arty and just text variety. Journaling, by definition, is a personal activity. Intensely personal, at times. Twice, though, I’ve come across folks selling pages from their journals. The thought gives me brain ache. It’s one thing to share select pages from a journal by posting them on-line, but to tear pages out of a journal and sell them? It seems to me that what is being sold, then, is not in fact a page from a journal. And, why would someone want to buy a page from someone else’s journal? Maybe if you’re some sort of Leonardo, it would be understandable, but that’s not the case with the journalers in question.

I realize this may just be an issue of semantics, but there are days when I feel like semantics is the only thing that really matters. If we cannot communicate effectively, there’s not much point in communicating at all. Hrmph.

Crankypantsing, Pets, Photography

Happy Saturday

Shelly

Blech. I feel like I’m wading through Jello this morning. Or, what’s left of this morning, anyway. I stayed up way past my bedtime last night, so I slept in, which was perhaps not as good an idea as it first appeared to be. Have you ever gone back to sleep, then woke up later feeling even groggier, and with a headache? Yuck. I’m all for sleeping, but this hardly seems worth the effort.

Last night was fun, though. It was a friend’s birthday party (hat themed, WTF? I wore a tin-foil beanie). Parties at her place are sometimes a craps shoot for me, because her house is small and I get claustrophobic when it gets crowded. I managed to score a chair at the back of the living room, though, so I stayed put. Let the entertainment come to me, was my theory. It worked well, too. There were all sorts of people I didn’t know–again, a craps shoot–but everything was fine right up until I left. At that point, some drunken shithead tottered up the stairs to the living room, taking pictures, which I’m NOT OKAY WITH, ASSHOLE! I told her not to take my picture, to which the only acceptable response is “Don’t worry, I won’t.” Instead, she said, “Why would you care, you don’t know me.” Grrr.

It’s weird to not drink at a drinking party (I was driving). I always get self-conscious when I drink, because I’m sure that anyone who isn\’t drinking must think I’m acting like an ass. I’m relieved to find that I’m not at all irritated by my friends’ inebriated behavior (I was mightily entertained last night, in fact). Rude, drunken strangers get on my last nerve, though. I guess that’s why I always preferred to go to parties instead of bars. Far better the drunks you know than the drunks you don’t, right?

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I’m also, I fear, working on some sort of respiratory disease. I suddenly lost my voice yesterday afternoon. It came back, but faded in and out. Now, it’s fading out again. I’m sure sitting in a room full of smoke last night didn’t help. Nor did getting full-on coughed on by someone who is getting over some sort of respiratory plague. He’s probably not contagious at this point, but if I come down with the plague, I’m blaming Wayne. Just because.

And now, I have to get ready to go to another birthday celebration. This one involves Mexican food, though, instead of drunks wielding cameras, so it should be thoroughly enjoyable. Mmmm… Veggie fajitas… Chili rellenos…

Miss Brown says, “Bring home a doggie bag, pleaseandthanks!” (Actually, she was drooling for tater tots, but I’m sure she’d drool for Mexican food, too.)

Crankypantsing, Pets, Photography

Happy Friday (Now New and Improved with Kisses!)

Shelly

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Mmm-wah! Harriet Brown sends kisses. (For full effect, I strongly recommend clicking to view at full-size.)

I stayed up late last night to watch the end of the women’s long program. I like figure skating, but for some reason it just wasn’t as interesting as it could’ve been. It was not time well spent, unfortunately. Since I was up way past my bedtime, I intended to sleep in this morning. So when the phone rang at 6:45 ayem, I was not terribly amused. Janet Parker, whoever you are, would it’ve killed you to let the phone ring a couple more times? Because, the only thing worse than being waked up at the crack of dawn is hauling my lazy ass out of bed just in time for the phone to stop ringing. I wasn’t sleeping very heavily, so I know that I heard the first ring. She let it ring four times. Four! At 6:45 ayem! Give a girl time to get out of bed, for crying out loud. Grrr.

On the bright side, the sunrise was beautiful. I was too lazy (I mentioned the laziness, didn’t I?) to go inside and get my camera, so I have no photographic proof, but I promise it was lovely: neon pinky and orangy with streaks of purple and fuschia.

Now, I just need to convince my lazy ass that it needs to clean the house. I’m not feeling very motivated.