Monday, December 11, 2017

My Messy Life

I have motion detectors activated lights on the west side of my house and they were going off and on last night. It could have been a deer, a racoon, an otter or an axe murderer. It’s so black here that I couldn’t see anything but I could hear whatever it was when I went outside. It’s comforting to know there are no nasties on the island.
I, Mister Bespoke-Suit, Mister I-Shop-at-Boboli, spent the day Sunday un-showered and in dirty sweat pants and clothes from the day before … because I could. I never ever did such a thing in Vancouver.
I was bummed because there was no juicy BBC drama on PBS last night: No Endeavour, no Grantchester, no Darrells in Corfu, nothing. I t hink I know why: They’re waiting for the holidays to end. Christmas Eve and NYE are both on a Sunday night this year.

It was lovely and sunny at times on Sunday but often foggy, dark and damp. After the Raven’s call and my walk (previous posts) I worked on the pinecones. I pick up every one, clean it of needles and moss and then I lay them flat on the table. Then I pick up the ones the cats knock onto the floor. Then I’d clean and lay out more … then recover more from the floor, etcetera ad infinitum.
There will be no cats in my studio. Yesterday I hacked all the legs of Fred and Ethel because they wouldn’t stop jumping into the cones and scattering them. Eight lucky kitty feet for sale: $5 each or all eight for thirty bucks. Of course I’m kidding but they are the most curious mischievous cats I’ve even known.
I really like the colour that emerges when the cones are dry and I like the design ideas that I’m mulling over in my mind.
The first cones I set out are almost ready for gluing so now I know that they take about three days to dry. In the photo above you can see the ones already dry in the front. I turn them regularly to help them dry. What you see in the photo above come from two of the three containers I’ve already collected so I’ve got about half more again and that’s all. But there’s millions more around on the ground.
Today’s essential task will take less than five minutes to execute but I’m dreading doing it. I have to climb up on my cistern and see where the water level is. If it’s low I’ll despair because it will mean more money out and more quirky old folks and more effort to master my water drawing, cleansing and delivery system. If it’s full, I eat pie.
In what level of Hell have I chosen to live?
Everyone who has been in my home knows about my passion for tidiness and beauty. Now there’s dog pee and poo, pinecones, millions of Fir needles, shredded paper, pieces of rawhide bones, shoes and shoe parts everywhere. It’s a constant battle to keep this place tidy.
So I wipe my pitchy hands on my sweat pants, shrug and head for the most important utensil in the house: The vacuum.

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