Talk About Tuesday

 

In Which I Speak On The Week

Let's talk about what I've been up to since last Tuesday, shall we? I have done some crochet (as seen yesterday), and I have sketched a bit, and I've written so much! But I've also had a few fun little experiences.

Firstly, everyone survived the Polar Plunge as I'll call it. Yes, there are places that routinely get down to around -63℉/-52,8℃ with windchill, but this isn't one of those places. This place tends to stay around 10 to 25℉/-12,2 to -3,9℃ in February. Somehow no one in my county even suffered a cold-related injury! I'm very, very happy about that. Of course, that's not to say there won't be tragedies discovered later on in the quiet, tucked-away places that our unhoused population feel safest in, but for now, we don't seem to have lost anyone. I am unbelievably grateful for that.

No pipes burst, no windows broke, no cars failed to start. We were fortunate. Yes, the top step of our deck's stairs came off, but honestly? That deck's been rotting for years. I'm surprised it took that long.

Regardless, the weather was abysmal. And then yesterday got up to 41℉/5℃. And today was back down to about 25℉/-3,9℃. Yoyo weather.

Now that I've told you the weather, here's some storytime:

On Friday, which was the a bitter cold day hovering around -28℉/-33,3℃ with windchill, my boyfriend and I were hanging out in my parents' kitchen, enjoying some delicious brie and coffee when I saw something under the bird feeders. Something small was wriggling around and suddenly I realized it was a mouse!

Pretty much the second I pointed the mouse out to my mom and my boyfriend, a crow hopped down and...

Brutally killed the mouse.

Plucked it up into its beak and thrashed it around until it was limp.

And then ate it.

Nature! Nothing like it!

So guess what I'm drawing for Thursday...

I won't be graphic, don't worry.

Still, that was the most metal thing I've seen in a while. Our hawk hasn't been around to cull pigeons and doves, after all.

Death aside, I mentioned that I'm still writing!

I did miss a day or two of writing, including one day where I only got seven words down (ouch), but because I was on such a roll today, I still made my week's goal! This week, I wrote 1347 words! Guess how many I wrote today? No seriously, guess.

Okay did you guess over 100? Because you'd be right.

I wrote 948 words today.

Nine hundred forty eight!

That's over an entire week's expected wordcount!

More than that - I wrote an entire chapter in one sitting!!!

So that's the high I'm riding tonight!

And hopefully that will carry me through the sketching portion of my evening. I missed a sketch yesterday because I kept interrupting myself lol.

I may not be posting on time for the next couple of weeks, however, because I'll be helping some friends out on Mondays & Tuesdays. If I am overly distracted on those days, I'll try to write a Hybrid Crochet/Blather Blog on Wednesday, but I should still have my Art blogs regularly!

Speaking of art blogs - if you want a say in what I draw (besides my attempt to immortalize the intrepid huntscrow), feel free to send me a coffee over on Ko-Fi with a message attached letting me know your preferred category (Animal, Vegetable, Mineral, Dedbert, Location, Geometric, Word), and I'll make your dream come true!

It might come true in a confusing fashion, but it'll somewhat come true lol.

As for me, I'm going to groove to Stuart Copeland's Spyro soundtracks and draw things.

Go Enjoy Something!

FC

Talk About Tuesday

 

In Which Tuesday Happened lol

I mentioned yesterday that a lot happened between last Tuesday and this Tuesday, so I shall explain a bit, though it will likely be as disjointed as usual since my brain is, predictably, pudding.

I mentioned some crochet related stuff yesterday, but that's all in yesterday's blog, so go ahead and check that out if you're curious about bag design and Gordon the Gordian Knot.

As for the other things I mentioned, here you go.

I helped my mother make boiled frosting on Sunday. It was not easy, since we don't have an electric hand mixer, and one of the things you have to do with boiled frosting is beat at rapid speeds over high heat. Being a generally helpful person, I offered to help do the mixing. I've whipped dalgona coffee by hand before, so this shouldn't be too different, right?

Wrong.

Whipping room temperature coffee to soft peaks is vastly different from standing over a double boiler in August while rapidly sloshing around egg whites and sugar with a whisk.

So I asked if we still had the immersion blender. Similar action, right? Rapid mixing and aeration, right?! We did have it, but I had forgotten the blasted thing is slightly broken in that it does not stay running, you have to hold the button down the whole time. It... mostly worked, but the problem quickly became that it was not working fast enough, so...

We moved the double boiler off the stove and under the stand mixer.

Problem:

Stand mixers have locking bowls for a reason, and the pot from the double boiler does not lock down.

Second Problem:

My mom is left handed. I am right handed. The controls are on the left side of the mixer.

Needless to say, there was a minor incident that splattered the entire kitchen in soft-peaked egg whites and sugar. It also spattered me. The pot holders my mom was using to help hold the pot still were completely slathered in the frosting.

But the frosting got made! And as hot and frustrating as the process was, it was really fun to problem-solve with my mom. We mostly just snark at things together, so trying to figure something out was cool, and, even better, it worked!

And so did my attempt to clean the pot holders! I took them outside, tossed them on the driveway, and grabbed the garden hose. It had a gentle shower attachment on it for watering my mother's gardens (she's got some really nice roses and other flowers going right now!), so I popped that off and used my thumb to pressurize the stream. Within a few minutes all of the frosting was off the pot holders and my thumb was wrinkly lol.

I also tried some fruit from a fruit salad my mom was eating and discovered that, yeah, it would seem I'm still allergic to melons. Your mouth shouldn't burn like you've licked the side of a tea kettle when you eat melons, apparently.

So that was my kitchen adventures this week!

I also mentioned spiders yesterday.

I have a single window in my room, and in that window, I have a fan. When I use that fan to bring air into my room, sometimes insects, usually gnats, come in. I don't like bugs in my bedroom, so when I have spiders that move in on the far side of my room I'm perfectly okay to let them stay there. They're paying rent. They stay.

They're also usually about the size of a polystyrene pellet - the kind that were inside Beanie Babies in the 90s.

Night before last, I came into my room after 10PM and there was a much larger spider, about the size of a dime, legs included, on my ceiling. It was too late to grab the vacuum, and then it crawled to the Spider Acceptable side of the room, so I left it. It's still sitting above the far corner of my window. If it decides to move, I will be forced to evict it.

I'm down with feeding spiders with the bugs from my fan.

Not with my own flesh.

Anywho, the third thing I mentioned was how awesome my friends are. Over the course of about 4 hours, my friends found out my guy needed a new bed, found a bed online, picked it up, and then helped him get it inside and set up! Seriously, they're some of the best human beings on earth! What a turnaround!

Now as for today, I must regretfully confess that I did... nothing. I did absolutely nothing.

I woke up at a reasonable hour, drank coffee, and then I checked the temperature and it was already 77℉/25℃ at 9AM. I was not going to go for a walk. I was right to stay in. I wilt in high temperatures and it was 83℉/28,3℃ with 72% humidity this afternoon. I'd have been truly miserable. Instead, I stayed in and pretended I was going to finish detangling Gordon the Gordian Knot. It did not happen.

I watched some YouTube vids, cuddled the cat, and drank more coffee, but today was entirely unproductive with this blog post as the only exception.

Hopefully the next week has me do these things:

• tomorrow I'd like to paint something - if you want to have a say in that something, drop me a donation on Ko-Fi with a message letting me know what category (Animal, Vegetable, Mineral, Dedbert, Word, Geometric, Location)!
• Thursday I'll post a blog with the art!
• Maybe I'll talk tea on Sunday? I'd like to start talking about tea.
• If there's a quiet, cooler day this week, I'd like to take a walk. If I do, I'll try to remember my Goblin's Purse from yesterday and then take a pic of whatever I find lol!
• Next Monday I'll have something yarn/crochet related
• Next Tuesday I'll blather at you some more!

For now, however, I'm going to relax and rest and hope that the spiders respect my personal space.

Go Enjoy Something!

FC

Thursday Art Walk

 

In Which A Mineral Was Painted
And A Story Is Told (Two Days Late)

On Tuesday, I told you all about my previous week, and uh... I may have mentioned something about my dad getting swarmed by ticks and then failed to follow up.

Sorry about that, guys! Totally slipped my mind with the rest of the tales!

So here's the Dad Vs Ticks story:

Once upon a time, my dad and I were both in the local community band. I backed out a few years ago because I didn't have any weekends off to do things with my friends or just to relax during the summer, but he has stuck with it, and he and his trumpet go every week from the first warm week in Spring to about the last warm week in Fall. On Sunday, they had a rehearsal, so he packed up his trumpet and headed out to the rehearsal space, which he explained to me as the middle of a parking lot. I've practiced in weirder spaces, so I buy it.

(lookin at you, weird, creepy, almost certainly haunted and fairly abandoned century-old community building in the middle of nowhere...)

So they're all set up in their chairs and playing along when my dad feels something crawling on his leg. It's summer, so it's bug season. He figured it was a fly or something equally benign, but looked down anyway (because what if it was a horsefly or a hornet?).

It was a big flat tick hook-handing its way up his leg.

Needless to say, he destroyed it by plucking it off the leg, putting it on the hot tar, and grinding a rock down on top of it. Then he told everyone why he was screwing a rock into the pavement and everyone started checking. A few more ticks were found and killed. Weird, since again, they were in the middle of a parking lot with no grass within ten feet.

Here's where it gets really upsetting, though.

They go through a few more pieces of music - practice, practice, practice - and then my dad feels a lot of tickling on his legs. Big whoop, everyone feels the crawlies after finding a tick, right?

Wrong.

There were dozens of ticks swarming the band, and he kept having to brush them off of himself.

Think about that for a second!

They were in the center of a parking lot and being swarmed by dozens of ticks!

And of course the story doesn't end there, no. He was relating the tale to me because he stormed up the stairs, shirtless, asking me to check his back (thankfully tick-free). So we go downstairs to freak out about how bizarre the whole thing is and he stops mid-sentence, looking at the laundry basket over my shoulder.

One of the freaking jerks must've hidden in a pocket of his pants or something because it was crawling up the wallllllllllll!

No thank you.

We killed it very dead - just your standard dog tick, so not really a risk for Lyme (though it could carry other stuff I don't want!).

So that was my Sunday lol!

But you're not just here for the ticky followup to Tuesday, no.

You're here for art!

I didn't paint the tick. I did a bug last week.

Instead this week's topic was "Mineral", so I painted some emeralds!

"Emerald Cluster"; Watercolor on paper; 2022

That was a lot more fun than I thought it would be to paint! I drew it out with a green watercolor pencil and then filled things in slowly with the colors all going different directions like the inclusions and fractured planes that emerald crystals really have.

Lab created emeralds bother me with their purity. If I want a clear green stone, I'll get a locally mined tourmaline. I want my emeralds cloudy and preferably second-hand. I worked from a bunch of reference for this, and I'm actually pretty happy with how the weird purple rock came out. Believe it or not, that sucker was supposed to be a brownish gray, but I grabbed the wrong color and I really like the contrast!

Now you know the secret of the Tickpocalypse, and you've got a fun bunch of emeralds to look at! I think my work here is done til Monday!

Get out there and Enjoy Something!

FC

Thursday Art Walk

 

In Which I Try Out Some Stuff!!!

Buckle up friends, because this is a saga of me trying to buy art supplies online for the first time in about a decade.

I used to paint with watercolors a lot. I picked it up in college while doing some art requirements and fell in love with how luminous the paints could get, how every aspect of the environment and medium could change the outcome of a painting, how fun it was to layer and adjust different areas of a piece... I just loved everything about watercolor!

Except for how hard it is to do it on a tv tray in a bedroom without a sink nearby.

So when I started seeing ads for water brushes I was ecstatic! Finally, a way to paint with watercolors that wouldn't get everywhere if I, in my eternal clumsiness, knocked an open container of water onto my floor!

And I saw a sale on a site called Arteza.

And I had, for once, a little disposable cash...

It seemed like fate - for the price of a medium cheeseburger pizza with jalapenos from Dominos, I soon had a six-pack of water brushes in various sizes and shapes plus a three-pack of small, hard-cover, ring-bound watercolor notebooks ordered!

The website said 5-7 business days.

It took quite a while for the order to ship, and then I saw my mistake.

Arteza uses DHL.

Not FedEx, not UPS, not even USPS.

DHL.

oy.

So I've never had a good experience with DHL - ordered stuff from Etsy that shipped and then never arrived, ordered things from ebay with the same results, and even had some school books back in college that arrived water damaged.

My excitement waned.

My order shipped separately. The brushes had a slow but smooth trek up the coast to me, but for some reason, the notebooks stalled out in Georgia for about a week.

My excitement was already nearly gone when my dad handed me a tiny six-inch-cube (15.24㎤) box.

A box with a lot of dents...

Names & Addresses redacted of course...

I was unsurprised, given my history with DHL, but hey, at least it didn't seem punctured and nothing rattled when I shook it? But really, that size seemed... suspiciously subpar for a six-pack of brushes on a cardboard backing...

WHAT'S IN THE BOOOOOXXXXXXX?!

Inside the package, I saw a bunch of crumpled brown packing paper. I appreciate the dedication to securing the card in the box, but it seemed... excessive.

Oh thank goodness, they seem alri... hold on, what?!

The brushes were all blisterpacked neatly, but the card seemed... bent.

Really?

Yeah. They bent the card in half to use a cube box when a flat box would've been just as good and just as cheap...

My excitement built again for about a day when I checked the tracking on package two and saw that it hadn't moved an inch out of Georgia for about a week. I had no paper to practice my watercolors on. I didn't even know if my watercolors were still good! It had been probably about ten years since the last time I painted.

Then, one day, I checked the tracking again and... success! The package was in my hometown waiting to be delivered by my local postal carrier! My local post office dudes are sometimes a mixed bag, but they're usually pretty prompt.

The thing is, they also tend to send packages and mail out at different times of day, so as you may have noticed on Tuesday's blog, I was literally listening for the mail truck the whole time I was typing lol!

And suddenly there it was!

I abhor overpackaging. I simply detest it. That up there? That's optimal packaging for a trio of sketchbooks prepackaged in plastic wrap! There's not a whole lot that can get damaged in transit with books like these, so seeing such an easy-to-unwrap-and-dispose-of packaging was a treat after the Tiny Box nonsense of the brushes!

And they're in perfect condition!

I am beyond pleased with these notebooks. They feel sturdy, the paper is thick, and the smaller size makes them super portable! At last, I could test out my old watercolors and my new water brushes!!!

But not my old palette, since that broke...

True facts: Anything smooth can be a palette if you're brave enough.

My ancient set of Marie's Watercolors from when Ocean State opened nearby...

I'm cheap. I am just a cheap person. I hate to spend money when it's not explicitly necessary and I don't want to buy paint if I don't have to. Thankfully, Past Me did Present Me a massive favor and held on to my watercolors even after I ran out of good paper.

My setup!

I have a tv tray in my room that I use as a table, and I've got a folding chair pulled up to that. But the table is flat and I like to paint at an angle, so I decided to use the awesome tray my partner got me as somewhat of an easel, and I gotta tell you - it works amazingly well!!!

Observe! A functioning art station!

I swatched these paints out on Wednesday using my new brushes and I loved every second of it... except for putting the paints on the palette. See, most of my earthtones are dried up so I had to use a plastic yarn needle to get in there and pull out some pigment. I'm planning on taking the watercolors out of their tubes permanently and putting them in some containers I bought at the local cheap shop. Saves money, and I still get to use my paints because watercolors are, by their nature, water soluble. They're still useful, just stuck!

But how, you may ask, did the brushes work?

In a word: Beautifully.

It took me a second to figure out how to unscrew the ends and fill them, but once assembled, it's pretty intuitive. Some brushes require more pressure to squish the water through, others are fairly consistent, and if you have patience and a napkin on hand, they're self-cleaning. Just squish and swish! Squish the barrel a bit to get some more water in the bristles, then swish it around on the napkin to dissipate the pigment!

The paper held up well, only doming slightly on the violet, which I added way too much water to. It's hardy paper, which is perfect for a notebook! 

The colors!

For those who may have a hard time reading my Sharpie chickenscratch, the colors are as follows (vertically):

• 102 White
• 215 Lemon Yellow
• 218 Gamboge
• 676 Yellow Ochre
• 301 Orange Yellow
• 324 Vermilion
• 336 Rose
• 315 Crimson
• 684 Burnt Sienna
• 687 Burnt Umber
• 509 Green Light
• 568 Sap Green
• 570 Green Deep
• 455 Cerulean Blue
• 443 Ultramarine
• 430 Violet
• 445 Prussian Blue
• 793 Black

And as I mentioned, several of these colors have solidified, rendering them hard to put on the palette.

Today was the first time I tried to paint with these watercolors, and because I can't find my watercolor pencils, I decided to work without a sketch today! Instead, I laid-out my image using a layer of Lemon Yellow, which was far, far fainter than it looks in this picture:

Comically lighter than this, in fact. It's barely visible!

From there, I just worked in layers of different colors, adding droplets from my very fine brush and mixing colors on the plate.

My supplies for the day - I never did use that marker...

All in all, however, I am proud of how the image came out - especially since it was the first figural painting I've done in such a long time!!!

"Flora" watercolor on watercolor paper; 2021

I'm very proud of the work I've started here, and I can't wait to add more to the notebooks! I hope to fill at least one before fall :)

And that is the story of how I ordered art supplies and everything turned out alright in the end (despite DHL's best efforts...)

Do any of you have silly art-supply-buying stories? Are y'all working on anything in particular right now? Let me know!

For now, that's all for me!

Go Enjoy Something!

FC

Talk About Tues... oh heck...

 

In Which It's Late, and I'm Tired, so Here's a Story.

Not gonna lie, today's blog is Wednesday's blog because I flaked. This is on me lol. I probably could've written this an hour ago if I'd been paying attention, but, well, y'all know me by now.

Why do now what I can panic and half-ass five minutes before a deadline?

Today was another super-saturated day - muggy, warm, very foggy. I baked some marmite bread (it was really good and we demolished it before I got pictures of the loaf because I'm impatient and gluttonous). I watched a lot of non-Herb-Abrams UWF. It was a good day.

Since I'm so sleepy, I want to tell you all a lil story, and since it's basically Falloween (oh my god, really, already?!), I'll make it a bit of a spooky one.

This is the story of the Y2K Ghost.

I've mentioned, I think, that my father is an IT guy. He used to be in the Air Force, but he got out before I was born and moved on from that into a lengthy career in tech. I tell you he was military so you know he was a man trained for combat. I tell you he's in IT to let you know he's a fairly logical person (though as many will tell you, logical people are often still highly emotional... which doesn't factor into this story, but he is an emotive dude).

The IT career is also why I have the story.

As you might've guessed by the title of the story, my dad had to work on Y2K bug fixes in the later part of 1999, and they'd just moved into a new facility. I say new, but the building itself is quite old. I'd heard rumors of it being a factory where people had died (rumors he, himself, had told me). I'd had harrowing experiences in the basement (okay, that was because I was a pre-teen helping to build an elaborate Halloween Haunted House and maybe it was a bit much for my wimpy lil self). It was a big, creepy building which almost never had the lights on, and my father was running on stress, cola, and very little sleep.

And one night, as the deadline for Y2K approached, he was working alone in the server room, running updates and bugfixes when he heard someone typing away on their clicky mechanical keyboard.

ticka ticka ticka ticka ticka

My old man is a bit confused by this - the business, a call center, basically shut down after 7PM, and he was in the server room near midnight pulling another 18 hour shift in a long line of 18 hour shifts. No one should be up in the area he was in.

So he went looking for the mystery typist.

ticka ticka ticka ticka ticka

Was it one of the programmers, staying late to build a software patch? But no, the only programmer who would have stayed that late was his brother (my most musically-inclined uncle who lent me my first D&D novel), who would've said hello and chatted with him if he was staying late.

ticka ticka ticka ticka ticka

Maybe it was his boss staying late to get work done? No he'd said good night hours ago.

ticka ticka ticka ticka ticka

One of the owners? No, he was in Sweden, visiting family (he would send me stamps, from time to time, because I collected them).

ticka ticka ticka ticka ticka

The sound was really starting to get to him, so he kept looking and looking, but he couldn't find anyone on the entire floor. He checked the conference room. He checked the cafeteria in case it was someone using their chunky 1990s laptop. He checked the ancient typewriter in the hallway. Nothing. No one. He was completely alone.

ticka ticka ticka ticka ticka

In the end, he just left work and came home, wracking his brains for what he could possibly be hearing. He told my mother and me - my sisters all in bed, and me having another sleepless night because I just can't sleep sometimes.

But of course, the story can't end there, can it?

Of course not!

He went back to work the next day (no days off during the tech crunch of Y2K!) and asked around - no one knew what he was talking about, and no one had stayed late.

Strange.

And 7PM rolled around, and everyone left except for my dad. And one other person. I don't remember if this was my uncle who stayed behind (possible, he did networking as well as programming, and the Network had to be Y2K Compliant, too), but whoever stayed that night heard it too.

ticka ticka ticka ticka ticka

ticka ticka ticka ticka ticka

ticka ticka ticka ticka ticka

ticka ticka ticka ticka ticka

And they searched the whole floor again. There was no way for it to be anyone upstairs - the floor and ceiling were very, very thick to prevent the call center above from having noise pollution from below (and vice versa). There was no way for it to be anyone in the floor below - there weren't any offices below, only storage!

ticka ticka ticka ticka ticka

It was driving them absolutely batty.

Batty?

Hmmm...

There had been bat problems before, so they started listening to the walls.

Nothing. Not a scratch or scrabble from mouse, rat, or bat. Nothing there. But when they pulled their heads from the wall...

ticka ticka ticka ticka ticka

ticka ticka ticka ticka ticka

ticka ticka ticka ticka ticka

Infuriated and slightly alarmed, my dad and the other man wandered around trying to figure out what it was for a good hour or so, but it wasn't until the printing room needed to be checked that they finally realized what was happening.

ticka ticka tiCK CKLCKL CKLCKL

Opening the door to the printer room made the clicky sound much louder, but it also changed what it sounded like. Instead of a fingers-on-keys sound, now it was a rattly clatter like... like something was stuck in something else.

Like maybe something stuck...

in an air vent.

My dad looked up and saw it.

A strip of clear plastic (maybe tape?) that had somehow gotten caught in the air exchange vent and was fluttering around, flicking against the vent cover.

There was their ghost.

(Years later, my father would pick up an inflatable T-Rex costume and we'd joke that it was cousins with the dinos that had sacrificed their lives for the Ghost Plastic.)

So I guess the moral to this story is: Ghosts are usually something much more disappointing than an actual ghost.

And always look up.

Go Enjoy Something!

FC

Talk About Tuesday... On Wednesday

 

In Which Tuesday Was Very Busy

I am winding down for the evening (well, technically early Wednesday morning, but gimme a break lol), so I'll make today's blog fairly brief.

Today was a day of getting out of town for a bit, because I live in an area with lower-than-the-national-average risk of COVID exposure. Some friends, my partner, and myself all piled in a car and went to another town and ate pulled pork sandwiches by the ocean, and it was awesome. We wore our masks. We socially distanced.

We were not, however, immune to reality creeping in.

Tuesday morning saw the sun being lightly filmed with a haze born from the wildfires devastating the opposite side of the continent. The fresh sea breeze was slightly salted and tanged with the touch of the hurricanes lining up like abusive suitors far to the south. Political survey people tried to knock on my front door and asked for me by name, though they seem to think my French Feminine name (on a person descended from both Scotch/Irish and German stock) is a British Masculine... My mother sent them on their way (thank goodness) none the wiser that there is no such person by that pronounciation.

You'd think that would have made the day anxious, but it didn't. None of it did.

We ate too much food by a beautiful waterfront, watching healthy mats of seaweed bob in the surf near the hewn stone below. We laughed. We talked about Dungeons & Dragons, about silly movies, about that cute orphaned sea otter I watch at night, about the food, about trips we could take in the future, people's families and their adventures (or misadventures).

And then one of the myriad little sparrows that had been investigating the area for potential dropped crumbs took flight.

And apparently it needed to clear some weight before it could properly lift off.

It crapped all over my folded hands, spattering a line of cold, slick-yet-gritty asphalt gray feces all over the heels of my thumbs.

In short, nature informed us it was time to go back into the car.

After copious amounts of hand sanitizer (in the car), a return trip to the house, several handwashings, depositing my nice yellow plaid flannel shirt in the wash with a dab or two of dishsoap on what I'm hoping were just meat-juice stains and not another bird's farewell, my partner and I settled into a sleepy torpor from which we only roused briefly to order a pizza for dinner (which was delicious - spinach & feta on garlic-parm sauce), argue laughingly over what YouTube videos to watch, and then to separate for the evening.

In short, today was great.

It never got above 65℉ (18.3℃), and right now I think it's about 45℉ (7.2℃). I'm in a green flannel shirt and capris, but I've snuck a flannel blanket bedecked in owls onto my bed, so I'm still deliciously chilly-yet-cozy. The tip of my nose is like ice, but my fingers still have some heat to them, so I'll call it a 100% win!

I'll be writing all day Wednesday (not counting this blog). Thursday I'll have some more art for you. I'll be writing Friday through Sunday, and Monday next should have a much more completed bag (with a bonus one day make for you!)

I think that'll about cover my Tuesday. I'm going to go brush my teeth and sleep deeply while dreaming of loaded pulled pork sandwiches, a warm hand in mine, and absolutely no bird poop.

Go Enjoy Something!

FC