Staredown

Do you ever have to sit with something?  An idea, a problem, a memory, a person.

I'm haing to sit with my IKEA* lion.  Henrik.  The decision of whether to take him with me when I move is what's up in the air.  He has sat atop the armoire in the bedroom since I got him.  The armoire might not even fit in Tiny House.

"Armoire" is one of those hard-to-say words for me.  "Rural" I can usually manage.  "Rural juror" is a bit trickier.^

The porch is now empty of things that won't be in "my" room.  I took the cat tower apart, which was surprisingly difficult.  The treadmill eventually gave in after hammers and allen wrenches and rust removal oil and a crowbar.  I'm as proud of taking that treadmill apart as anything I've done in a while.

Now, I didn't say the porch was clean, only that it's empty.  On the left there, you can see the power drill I had to buy myself.  Yes, it's pink, but that isn't why I bought it.  I bought it because it was the cheapest one.  Which says that tool manufacturers still buy into stereotypes, and/or nobody wants to own a pink tool set because of, you know, stereotypes.  I'm excited about all this, but really hope I move out not too long after it's all done.

I want to buy a runner rug and a chair.  The chair will probably determine where everything else goes.  I've already built a plant stand you can't see in a corner.  There's a trip to Lowe's in my future for more potting soil.

*Not yelling --- that's how they spell it.

^IYKYK

Look Up

It's been a weird day.  I was up and down three times last night and into this morning;  my sleeping routine is still in shambles after being sick.  It feels very much like a weekend day.  Poor Tap is more discombobulated, though.  He has been fast and hard asleep all day, snoring away.

Welcome my latest Poppet.

Kind of self-explanatory.  After I had already ordered this, the Artemis poppet debuted.

I may yet have an opportunity to own one,but if I don't, there'll be this "catalog" photo, which almost brings me to tears:

Comfort

A biscuit board, my beloved twin, is for kneading biscuit dough.  (Sadly, if you Google it, "biscuit board" pops up as a charcuterie board.)

My Aunt Sis (named "Bertha Almeda," so "Sis" was an excellent dodge) was EVERYone in my father's family favorite.  When she had made her biscuits dough, she floured the board, put the dough on it and kneaded it up and down, back and forth around the board (it's curved) with such skill and speed that it was worth going into the kitchen just to watch.  There's no telling how old that board is, or many biscuits made on it were eaten.  I genuinely cherish it.

When recovering from a hellacious head cold, let me suggest a soft, snuggly Scottish Highland cattle blanket.  It will help.

I do feel better today, but there was hardly anywhere to go but up.

Tools

I went to bed at 8:30 last night.  TheraFlu knocked me out.  I did wake up a couple of times for nasal spray.  Today, I feel heavy-headed, but not sleepy.  Yet.

One advantage to living in an artsy, college town is that you needn't worry about finding things like this:

Glazier points with a glazier point pusher-in-er.  That pusher makes a big difference. 

This isn't what I used the glazier points for this, but it's new to the den wall:

It was advertised like this:

NO, NO!  If the shoes are like that, all the good luck pours out!! 🤦‍♀️

My Recommended from Amazon today, "Based on [My] Past Purchases" was this:

WHY?

Whatever You Can Try

There are so many things around this house bought to help me with my headaches.  Cold treatments, heat treatments, massage treatments, and now

this little electric jobby.  I got as much for my fingers as anything else, and have done couple of "treatments" thereon.  No change yet, but I couldn't realistically expect one.

After getting out for therapy and feeling none the worse for wear, I woke up today with a somehow stuffed AND dripping nose, coughing spells, and sneezing.  

Look, we may call you "common," but we don't mean it as dismissive or a slur.

I've spent the day pricing more yard sale things, working to clear out the back porch so that I can create my little space there.

That's the treadmill in the lower right.  I'm taking the cat tower apart.  I certainly plan on having more cats, but will get a  new one then. 

The icicles lights must come down, I have to find a runner rug, and, ideally, a rocking chair.  It will probably take me a minute, but I plan on getting there.  That's likely not the desk's final spot, just where it landed for now.

I've got honey mustard bread going in the machine, after a dinner of chili and spaghetti.  I might have a little ice cream later, though I'm getting very sleepy.  Rest may win out.

Photo Bullet Points

When I woke up this morning, I felt surprisingly good.  Then time passed.

I'm an Ipsy subscriber.  Look what came last month:

It's almost too pretty to use.

WHY?  Understand, points for creativity, but WHY?

Not an animal on a couch, but I love this.

Got it hanging in the hall.

This is also in the hall:

Animals on couches.  Okay, and boots.

This is my beloved aunt's biscuit board.  Watching her work dough was watching actual magic.  I've got to figure out how to fix those splits.

I bought myself flowers.

They come from Publix, who is the only retailer keeping Creamy Coconut Dr Pepper in reliable stock.  Also, superior sub sandwiches, which I've reported before.

When I was growing up, my mother enrolled me in a children's book club.  I hadn't thought about this title in a long, long time.

 

I remember Toby Tyler, Black Beauty, Heidi, The Bobbsey. Twins.  One about a circus...?

I'd never thought about bunny tongues, either, but they sure are cute.

Happy Birthday and Thank You, Sir David.

I thought at the time that this hat was great.  It still pleases me.

If you make a promise, keep it.

Shells in lamp.

I'll end with another pretty thing.

What You See

 Walking down the hall toward the den, this is what you see ahead of you:

The lights on the little tree (inspired by a gift to  Bridget) are almost perfectly in the shape of Harpo's hair.  You can't quite compare to the picture above the bookcase, because he's wearing a hat, but if you're familiar with him, you get it.

You may remember the first set of lights I put up on my boots' shelves.  They had to be changed.  They were blinking weirdly, and coming unstuck.  So I went with the Broadway dressing room mirror lights.  It isn't what I had initially had in mind, but I've grown to like it.

When You've Had Enough

Last night, it became plain to me that my patience with being sick had run plumb out.  So I began searching for 24-hour clinics.  Though many advertise themselves as such, only the two hospitals here are always open.  This one has an eye-catching Google result, though:

This morning I got up early and trudged off to find that the most probable cause of all this is ETD: Eustachian Tube Dysfunction.  Remember  my harping and harping that words matter?⁰  Think of the difference between a "disease" and a "dysfunction."

Stay with me now, class, as we journey into the Eustachian tube:

Ears, nose, sinuses all connected.  So much so that's it's unclear if a bad cold "caused" the ear mess, or the ear led to the cold.  Either way, I got an antibiotic prescription and told that warm compresses might help.  I was told that it might, and I'm pretty sure that the antibiotic did, mix poorly with all my regular RX.  I've felt so sleepy and off-balance this afternoon...  Balance is an ear thing, too, though, so who knows.

A Child That's Grown Old*

 The source of this gift is no mystery.

Terry.

It's a poster of an old rodeo.*  "Red Horse Ranch" is nice;  benefitting the Mayor's Unemployment Relief fund is good, as long as for unemployed constituents and not the possibly unemployed mayor.  HOWEVER, why do the chestnut creatures have cattle horns instead of equine ears?  Where are the back legs of the one on the right?  What in the world kind of form is on Cowboy Left --- and where did he find that fetching blouson shirt?

Thank you, Touchdown.  I'll return the favor in time.

I had to help Briton with something today, so I wore a mask to protect him.  We all got accustomed to wearing them, I know, but putting that one on today felt sort of suffocating.  It was fun going through all the masks I have: some of them were pretty cute.  Since Twinnie sent me some fabric, I could make some!

*IYKYK

Still Ailing

Whoever designed the human body had a wicked sense of humor.  How can a nose that has been in operation for 66+ years still produce SO MUCH SNOT?  Shouldn't production tail off after a while?

When I've been able to keep my eyes open, I've been reading

Wonderful, especially because there's lots obf attention paid to Lincoln's mother, Nancy Hanks Lincoln.  She fascinates me.

Hallucinationing

From the couch, I can look at my new clock, which I have wanted for a long time, and which finally went on sale.  Enough of a sale that I treated myself.  There's also a spoon there for some reason. I'm feverish, but I don't think that's a hallucination.  Y'all see it, too, right?

When I ordered, when I got the new lamps, I wondered whether I could fill them.  Turns out I can.  And will.  

It may be the fever, it may be the copious amounts of medicine it has been necessary for me to take, but for the last two nights, my dreams have been weird.  The night before last, it was that my children and I were visiting friends of theirs.  The friends' apartment had a super-cool layout, and was part of an equally cool complex.  We had agreed to go on a picnic, and while the mother and I packed food, and the children played, the father began railing about their noisy and intrusive neighbors.  The father was Spencer Tracy.

Last night, or this morning, technically, I dreamt I witnessed a break-in at a grocery store.  The police took me, and other witnesses, to this awesome combination restaurant/museum.  (?)  I wound up at a table with Richard Schiff.

We had a lovely conversation, then I heard someone say, "They're letting you go now, darling."

Hugh and I walked out hand in hand.  Not bad.