Where It Is

Finally disciplined myself to get the kitchen floor painting finished. Everything had to be swept and mopped and all the riffraff things moved out to start the finishing process. The cabinet there still needs to be finished and the cupboards above it. The cupboard doors have so many layers on them now, it is tempting to yank the doors off and try to either scrap them down or make something new. They don’t close right. That will have to wait — but it did stop me in my tracks to contemplate that thought leaving them unfinished. They’re too messy to bother showing.


The kitchen floor was started with a color that blended well enough with the living room but it’s much better now all matching. It makes spaces seem grander to have the floors all the same. The painting started with where it had been left off with the other color thinking some kind of sponging could be done to transition from living room, hall to kitchen. It was just better and easier to paint it all the same. The big dresser being used as a counter/island with the corner cabinet backing where it projects wasn’t painted under — yet. It may be good enough? There are no plans to move things. Everything else was pulled out and painted under.


Before painting it all the same color. There are three colors showing here.

There are never ending jobs to do — but that is how I like it. Always something fun to do. The garden table there has paper under its feet because the felt pads were sticking to the slowly curing paint. The paper might stick too, but should be easier to wet off. Felt leaves fibers.

Yes, living “wired-in” leaves cords everywhere. The phone motem is wireless but I have old-fashioned slimline phones wired into it. We don’t have any real choice here. Verison is our go-to for phone service and they don’t use copper. The cable that brings the Century Link internet service in from the outside goes through the kitchen and the wireless motem for it is in the farthest away bedroom. Verison didn’t have internet here. Someday I may bother to fix it all better — but for now it’s strung however it was easiest to do. Wire coffee tabs were stapled to the ceiling to traipse it to the bedroom. I know.

Yes, I’m stocking up on beans. You know why. The bag there is holding bottle tops that have a hope of turning into a room divider screen type thing — always something fun to do — that’s my motto don’t ya know? The curtain hiding the laundry room needs to come down and some translucent paint or paper applied.


These are the hotter days to get through but monsoon season is quite nearby so it will cool off lots by then.


A sweet potato vine was tried to be grown in this hanging basket. It couldn’t stay wet enough so was turned into a ceramic birds nest.


The romaine lettuce was left to bolt and has. Some are growing through the expanded metal.

Saving seeds is where it is. I can’t bring myself to hyphenate and add the at. That’s one of those grammatical things that drives me nuts because, even though it would be an idiom in this context, it allows for exploitation to such things as “Where are you at?” I know it’s acceptable and common, but so are masks. You get my drift? Slippery slopes.

Seed saving is where it is. It’s the bomb. It’s over there with building hugelkultur beds and growing trees are.


The table and wire baskets have made it cool enough here for the lettuce to go the distance.


I left the hose trickling pretty fast on the lilac bush all night long lately by mistake. It seems to have loved it. My pocket book might not.

Cutter bees help themselves to the leaves every year. It never seems to matter — except to make it look a mess.


And that’s okay with me.



It’s Just Heat

Phew! Just came in from moving the hose. It was left on the mama chaste tree to give her a good soak — slowly.

I try to walk around barefoot as much as possible in the interest of staying grounded. Ouch! That sand gets HOT! Sometimes, if the hose is in hand, the ground under foot is sprayed long enough to cut the heat and as the hose and I move on, the ground beneath the feet gets hosed again. The hose was on dribble mode and under the tree. I just had to be quick. Sometimes one can’t be quick enough. Ouch!

Mama chaste tree is looking great this year and I’m hoping it is due to putting the lump of sticks and debris there to decompose around her and also aid with minimizing any evaporation that might just be some part of the betterment key. Last year she looked very glum and there was lots of worry she might be in distress. The one at the end of the property on the outside of the fence, (in the parkway), was gorgeous for many years and suddenly started biting the dust. It was very hard to water and it did get a little neglected. So, mama chaste got lots of attention after that. It seems to have paid off some. Last year she produced very, very few flowers. This year she is abundantly producing. The bees are very happy. Butterflies and other flying things as well.

Mama chaste tree has a new baby.


I may have to start a chaste tree nursery if she keeps this up. There must be ten being nursed, waiting to find a space to be transplanted to.

Thank GOD for the scraggly tree and all her shade. Several Tree of Heavens have sprouted at the base of Mrs. Scraggly. She says, “Let them grow. I need the company and I’m getting old. There is no telling how much longer I can try to shade things. They can take my place in the event the sun and I part company.”

This house was built in 1945. I suspect she was a baby somewhere near that time. She might be older than I am.

I LOVE Mrs. Scraggly. I hug her with my vibes. I think she has a baby too, somewhere in among the other things that volunteer all around and not far from her. I’m keeping a close eye.

Petuny has a baby too. Her babe is growing close to where she used to be. She got moved a little farther back.


The strawberry plant transplanted from the toilet tank looks like it is coming back to better life. Fingers crossed.


I’ve been trying to learn how to sun gaze. It wasn’t low enough in this image. This was yesterday. I missed it when it was low enough, (just before ‘setting’ — “dusk or dawn” it is recommended but don’t do it without finding out about the risks and how to properly do it), because I left to shop and it got behind a hill before I got the car stopped.

So, after hopping around on bare feet and being out long enough today to get hot, coming through the porch door into the house, it feels like a refrigerator and that is with no air conditioning on. It’s funny how we acclimate. After being in awhile, it feels hot again and two little fans directed at me seem to work until the house sits in the sun all day long. I turn the heat-pump on “cool” late to cut the heat some for a little bit. It really makes a difference.

The living room and the main bedroom are the coolest rooms throughout the day. I’ve had the bedroom shut off so that Lucy could come in when she wants to during the day. She goes back out to the studio for the night. Sometimes Mickey comes in too but not very often. He’s perfectly happy sleeping ALL.DAY.LONG. on his perch out there most days. If he comes in, he gets bored much sooner than Lucy does.

But, neither Lucy nor I have been happy having to be only in the living room for lounging. So, I found a way to make the bedroom Lucy-safe. Now we can be happy in that room too.

I cover the bed with a sheet of plastic after getting up and have put a plastic basket on a plastic tub near the window. Their rack used to be there for a lookout and has always had an old sheet hanging around it to collect their dirt and fur from any better thing hanging on top of it. Their rack is in the living room currently. Lucy went right for the basket and is so content all day long staying in it. She comes out from time to time and begs for rubs or food and then goes back.

People who don’t live here in this desert often ask me how I stand it. I always say, “It’s just heat.”

Right now the wind kicked up and is blowing the sheet at the window and the chimes outside. If the AC was on, I couldn’t hear the birds or the chimes or feel the pleasant breeze, (and it would cost a LOT of money.)

How a cat with fur sitting in a window stands it, I don’t know. You’ll have to ask little Ms. Lucille. She doesn’t seem to mind. I guess she likes to hear the birds too.




To Emerald City

Buster’s pond is a constant struggle — the bigger one especially. This littler one has been out of commission for a while now.

This hole was one of the first attempts to make a pond, sized big enough to make a little girl water turtle happy. It was originally dug out to fit a kiddie pool. As things evolved — blah, blah, blah. Oh darn, I can scarcely remember all the various gyrations that have been struggled through trying to get this pond thing right — books, blogs, videos, and an established aquatic plant and pond business in a nearby town — and who wants to hear that all again anyway? It’s all archived here in past posts.


The big pond just seems to be too awkward to care for properly. It is not aligned in the yard right to be able to easily configure a decent cover for it. I thought I had things figured out fairly well when I put the tarp over the old canopy frame. Arizona wind is not to be taken lightly. That all had to come down before it all went flying off to Emerald City. Most recently, a cattle panel was tried to be made useful but that has failed to be fully successful as well.

Seems like I really just need to learn how to build and put some money into this thing.

Meanwhile, today found me braving the cooler part of the late afternoon trying to reconfigure things.

The hose was used to fill up the smaller hole so that it could be dug out deeper, wider and longer. The only thing that seems to make sense at this stage is to try to make something out of it and move Buster to it so that the other one can either be made right or filled up with debris, dirt and made into a growing bed.


Sometime back a bunch of weeds were pulled out from the parkway strip and tossed over the fence to use for compost. I know, I know…weed seeds! I love weed seeds. They are the only thing that grows around here and the resource necessary for building up good soil is compost, compost, compost…which means organic things that decompose.

So, gradually they have been being piled up on the downward sloping side of the littler hole so that that end could be made into a hugel mound so the pond won’t over flow when full — the all-along intention being to use whatever dirt was dug out to make the pond bigger to cover all the weeds to make the mound. Am I right?

We’ll find out.


I’ve been tripping over this half-buried log as this spot just seems to be the most useful path to take to get from here to there. The #5Hugelkultur mound is what it is a part of.

I decided to dig it out.


While the kitties watched from afar.

Ain’t that some humdinger of a catio? The kitties aren’t complaining. My mind is whirling with new ideas to make it right…er.

So digging wasn’t hard and the log came out with a good shovel or three and a little leverage and a little grunting and a little lifting with my bare hands…


Can you see her? Mrs. Docile Tarantula?


Can you see her now? She was as big as my hand and I have a good-sized hand. I was flipping that log around, heavy as it was, like no tomorrow — trying to get it out of the dirt and moved away so I could dig the other one below it out.

She gave me a little bit of a fright but she was as kind as a big little tarantula with a fury butt can be. I maneuvered around her gingerly. I wrapped the hose around the log and tried to drag it. She moved about trying to make sure she kept herself safe but clung on.

Eventually I figured out a way to get the log moved close to the fence footer and just before the pomegranate tree, piled up on other little logs thinking it could make a habitat that she might make a new home and then scooped her back up in a pitcher and put her on it.


By the time I got the logs and her moved, I had to use the flash. I hope I didn’t hurt her trying to scoop her.

The picture below is before I got the log moved.

The pond was a little too wet to move the dirt to the mound so that job was put off for tomorrow.


The toilet is headed to the other end where the yard comes to a point and will make a nice step up to water things over the fence. I just took the strawberries that were in the tank out the other day and put them in a pot.


I tried to find a way to take a shot of this little Dorsett Apple tree, with all its many apples, where junk wasn’t showing in ever corner…

I had a sheet tied over some arched pipe before I started all this pond stuff. Even though both Anna and Dorsett are supposed to be okay in this desert, they really aren’t that happy. Especially not in the middle of blazing sun all day long.

Some days I want to order a street-side dumpster and clear everything out to have hauled to the landfill and then I remember what I really want to do if I live long enough and the compoost doesn’t hit the fan before we know it…

Inch by inch — junk = dollars that don’t have to be spent — sometimes. Other times it really is just junk. I keep trying to know the difference.

I hope Mrs. Fury Butt doesn’t scare me again tomorrow.



Sun And Water

Even though it is hotter in the mudroom than the living or bedroom, here I sit. It’s just so cozy and there is a sofa to lie upon or sit more comfortably. All the troublesome upholstery has been eliminated from any room where Lucy goes — she just cannot be trusted — the little she-bug.

No genetic modification shall be employed to eliminate the likes of her kind of cat just because she seems to be a nuisance — sometimes — most of the time, she’s quite a joy.

What gives humans rights to decide who lives and dies? Every.single.thing has purpose.

After a moment or two of adjustment, acclimation occurs and the difference in temps between the mudroom and living room is only noticed if another cup of coffee is required to be fetched.

“I should go work in the bedroom,” self says to me while walking through the relative coolness of the living room.

“I know, I know, but I spend enough time in there already, sleeping and dreaming.”

It was an awful dream last night, or this morning — whenever dreaming occurs. I woke myself up trying to scream and was, in fact, screaming — though somewhat hoarsely. I hope the neighbors didn’t hear.

In the dream, I was trying to bite the hand that was causing me harm. Their hand became rubber and my teeth useless. There was more than one of them. One I recognized from childhood. She thought it was all so funny — me restrained, being tickled and prodded with no ability to help myself.

It was horrible.

In the dream, I tried to scream and nothing would come out. I was absolutely helpless. It seemed that the harder I tried, the worse the lack of ability seemed to get.

I was so very relieved to finally wake up. It took me some time to get the gist that it was just a dream.

The awful dream had to come from the fear of losing my current standard of living. I like being able to hang my towels from the cattle panel arches when they need to dry or disinfect — that is why I have a fence with privacy slats.

I lock all the gates and it has proved to be a happy stance when the co-op came lately to install a new smart meter. If I hadn’t had to greet the man at the gate to let him in, he would likely have gone ahead and done it. Needless to say, I did not unlock the gate. He had apparently heard the words I said enough times by then that he wasn’t a bit shocked and turned to walk away — with a smile mind you. He was very kind. He did not try to sway me.

“No! I won’t have one of those, thank you. I shall do without electricity if I must.”

The trouble is, the City won’t allow anyone to reside without electricity but the co-op has a monopoly. I have no choices.

The real fear in the dream is clear. It is the fear of an unsolicited jab. A thing I don’t agree on. That is where I stick my picket pin.

When June 20 comes along, and the power of the sun starts its decline, I shall proclaim my belief in nature as the only real power over me. I shall say it to the ether but it shall have the same amount of power just as if I’d said it to GOD. It may be just as powerful simply to think it.

When December 21 comes along and the sun starts its rise back to full electric sway, I shall proclaim it once again, “Nature is the only one who rules over me.”

Sun and water is everything.

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We’re about to enter Monsoon Season. Until then, if anything is to be kept alive, water has to come from the City through hoses or buckets from previous rain water harvesting.

The poor little strawberry plant that had been in the toilet tank was discovered lacking lately and put into a container to bring over to its friends to be more carefully looked after.

Shame on me.

These two need careful looking after too. Water, water every day. Do not look away.


These three just needed a little shade, away from the blazing of direct sun. They are amazing in that they took it for so long and bounced back so naturally and beautifully — I must say. The top two you can see, came over before the other. It might need to boot out the soldier and take that spot to get even a little less dappled light.


This mint was a birthday present a year ago. It’s been a struggle from the start but isn’t it just lovely? Wait another hour — it might wilt for you.  The cage is intended to boost its shade even though its feet are in the ground that gets the first shade of the day — the north side of the house along the sidewalk. Water, water every day. Do not look away. Twice a day won’t hurt it. It’s putting on some flowers.

A lot of greening has gone on since the day I landed here. Not nearly enough. It’s very hard to get things that are green to remain. Anything that can shall be let to. That’s my motto now.

“If you can take it here, you can stay.” Who am I to say that they should leave? Slowly but surely I am learning — nature knows a lot more than I do.

Seems In Order

Lucy came in the other day and didn’t want back out until late late. We had a great day in each other’s company. It did make me realize that I may want to get a blow up mattress so that I can stretch out somewhere to relax when the bedroom and mudroom are closed off to traffic. It has to be something plastic.

The pictures of her in the chair show how she responds to talking. I say, “You’re such a pretty little girl,” and she rolls all over eventually exposing her tum tum — very unusual for her — she loves total control.

Another rough piece of wood was put on the top shelf of the metal frame and she went right for it. It has been secured with string so it doesn’t slip off as she claws it and bounces around.


It will be lashed a little better. She came in again today. She is right now below me, curled up on a rug braced by the roller of the chair. Mickey came in for about five minutes before he got completely bored. They are both fully utilizing the catio — much to my delight. I’m going to try to grow some clover in the soil inside on the bottom for them.

It’s so hot now that it’s hard to be out unless it’s fairly early and just long enough to water things. There was a big black bumble looking flyer among other butterflies and bees enjoying the mama chaste tree today.

It will likely be a regret, but most tree’s of heaven are being left to grow. They are considered invasive here by most, but they are about the only thing that is useful for getting lots of cooling growth and shade in short order. They do grow like weeds. The thing about them is, they are a little like bamboo in that they can be cut down for their sticks before long — and, if it’s absolutely necessary, it isn’t impossible to get the roots out. They grow prolifically from lateral roots — rhizomes. They also grow from seeds and they produce millions of seeds. It’s really a matter of giving in and letting nature have her way and simply working with her. Somehow they got here. The value of any kind of deciduous shade can’t be exaggerated much.


Tree-of-heaven was first introduced into the United States in the Philadelphia area in 1784. Immigrants later introduced tree-of-heaven to the West Coast in the 1850s. It was initially valued as an urban street tree and was widely planted in the Baltimore and Washington, D.C., area. From these areas, tree-of-heaven has spread and become a common invasive plant in urban, agricultural, and forested areas.


Size: Tree-of-heaven has rapid growth and can grow into a very large tree, reaching heights of 80 to 100 feet and up to 6 feet in diameter.


All the while the trees of heaven are marching on wildly in giant spurts of growth, this little elm tree sputters along with lots of personal attention. I suppose that once it is established, it may fair better on its own. Trees of heaven can be completely ignored and nothing will go wrong. They want for nothing but the sun it seems. Good example for survival.


Pretty sure that the above is a fruitless mulberry brought in by wind or bird. It was in a pot for a couple of years and finally asked to be anchored in the soil for more room to set its roots. It’s not as slow as the elm, but nowhere near the speed of the invasive bunch and needs regular water. There is one, (or two or three), of the invaders right to the left of it — they often grow in clumps of several. Water or not, they grow merrily along.


After watching a recent video from Colette O’Neill over in Ireland with her Bealtaine Cottage glory, it is pretty clear that nature has all the answers and whatever else that comes along to try to intercede will not be anything nature can’t compete with. It may even be that this is nature’s time for glory.

Listening to mother nature seems to hold the only key for how to rise above the fray to ride on the top of this wave.

Chanting seems in order.

Namu Myōhō Renge Kyō

Peace out! And lots of luck to anyone who’s listening.

Turns Into Something

Up earlier than usual and it is always good to be. The kitties came inside for a spell to be loved up, brushed and admired. It wasn’t long before they wanted back out to their studio. They have really staked that claim.

After taking them back out, time was spent sitting next to the kitty cage to admire cardinals, a turtle and some pretty green things with flowers and fruit — pomegranates, plums and strawberries. The hose was left way too long in the wheelbarrow yesterday while someone was distracted bending wire to hold fencing on a wrought iron gate and it got flooded. It proceeded to drain right out but it seems to have given the berries a dose of saturation that they appear to be happy about. A plum is eaten here and there. It seems birds are staying away due to strays??

Through the years, mama chaste tree has produced many little babies. In the south forty triangle lot, (where the catio is), three were planted in tires filled with really good composted soil. One of the three is a whiter shade of purple, more pink. I suspect the birds or wind brought a seed from somewhere else. The bees are happy they are all getting flowers. There are many babies in need of places to be. I’m in a crowding phase since nothing food seems to want to grow. The thought is to get as much oxygen producers growing that will shade things and maybe things will like to grow in containers under them.

My Little Homestead is in an Arizona desert too and they rave about wicking beds and aquaponics. I just can’t see that because it is so product oriented and requires too many appliances. Not that I’m against people having success with it all. I want to find the ways to grow that the indigenous Indians here have always done.

After sitting with the kitties, a routine round-about inspection was done. There are so many messes everywhere but everything has an intention to be something — as time permits.

Here’s mama chaste tree in the front. She’s full of flowers too — and bees.


Under her is where the lettuce grew from old seeds broadcast just to see what would sprout where. It’s all been let go to bolt so seeds can be collected to try it all again.


Sometime back it was mentioned about the “stealing” of some palo verde trees from the schoolyard where they had sprouted under their mommies. About twelve were dug out and brought to try to nurse to grow up and be planted. Several have been put in the ground and are growing. This one waited far too long to put on leaves — it caused some worry. Delighted to see the leaves.

The rose bush is happier since it was figured out she needed much deeper watering. This sand just doesn’t hold it.


Petuny got a haircut. She’s been around for numerous cycles and I just can’t get over her resilience. See all the baby chaste trees around her — and there are several more farther out.


Sometimes things get worse before they get better. There are many little trees that were planted early fall. Most of them are doing rather well. It certainly doesn’t seem worth it to purchase anything from Walmart. Petuny is the only thing that has amounted to anything. All the little trees were either volunteers, started from seeds, or propagated right from here. I guess the mama chaste tree can be included in Walmart successes.


Yes…I took the risk of trying spray paint on the catio. The thought was that it couldn’t look much worse. The most important thing is that the kitties seem to love it — Lucy especially. Mickey is still a little skittish. She went right out the minute she got back into the studio and marched all over everything that’s in there.

It looks like a methhead lives here.

Oh, to have all the money in the world. I’m just grateful I had enough to get a cattle panel to bend into an arch. The rest was years and years of messes all around. See, it finally turns into something.

Meanwhile, back in the house, the second bedroom is getting back up to snuff to use for sewing. As much as possible is coming in from the studio and put into plastic tubs. The next phase is to reorganize the covered patio by taking the things there over to the covered carport that has been recently worked on to be the place for technical things like tools and paint and — you know — that kind of stuff.

More from the studio will be put into tubs and the covered patio will be its new home. The goal being to keep things safe from kitties and for the studio to someday be turned in to something better — like a greenhouse.

Always have a dream.

Some T-shirt yarn in one of the tubs now in the sewing room was turned into a plant hanger to hold the beautiful succulent my succulent expert friend sent me just a little while back as a total little sunshine surprise. Thank you Loey. The link above will take you right to her wonderful Etsy store.

What shall be worked on today? There is always something good to be done.

A Little Better

Late into the moonlight last night, I sat, fairly blindly lashing the last piece of wire fencing over the opening that will be the only way to enter the catio once the other piece of wrought iron is covered with wire fencing to make a swinging element.

There had just been too much thinking and thinking and thinking to the point that it became clear, hard work was just being put off.

It’s a mess of a thing that a coat of spray paint would likely make look a little better. Knowing me, it will be tried.

The most important thing is that the kitties have a way to get outside of one room and into some fresh air where they can see the things outside a little better.


It was too dark to take pictures last night. Suffice to say, I’m so glad I put the layer of wire fencing over the whole thing. There was a debate inside my head of whether the higher parts really needed it because — what smart little kitty would take the risk of injuring her little paws to climb wire?

Lucy would. She got all the way to the top before she came back down to look for other ways. Some gratitude. “I want all the way out mommy!”


Hopefully today the other gate will get wired and the piece securing the opening can be replaced with it.

Meanwhile, they seem to be pleased. It wouldn’t surprise me to one day find a little gray and white kitty with her head stuck out of a wire rectangle.


My good neighbor gave me a broken window from a remodel he was doing on his home. It was brand new but he had managed to break one of the panels of the dual panes. The screen you see there is from it and it came off as soon as Lucy started her climbing adventures. Not being able to get inside right now, all that could be done was to wrestle it a little. That area is secure without the window there. It is just so close to the patio, the thought was to make it a little safer from cats outside and inside the catio sitting there hissing and spitting at each other.

Lucy is looking at the little slinky black kitty at that corner. That kitty seems to like to lounge somewhere near the indoor kitties.


What a mess it all is. It’s just pleasing to see them happy.

I should be ashamed to expose it. DSCN1199

The second glass for the casement window went to secure the entrance to the extension until something can be done to close the outside opening.

I couldn’t stand them not being able to get out for one more minute so just did whatever could be done to secure it all just enough for now. And, of course, working with whatever is around.


After I posted these images and sat staring at this screen long enough, it dawned on me that there was a migraine coming on. Too much time was spent outside in heat and sun doing heavy lifting without enough hydration. So from here on is another day. Yesterday was wasted with a cold rag on top of a head lying in darkness with no sound or vision things and no more work on the catio.

Wasted days are awful.

What won’t be done for some sweet little kitties.

Check this video out for what looks to me to be the best catio ever:

Last Little Puddle

Little Ms. Lucille is hanging with me this morning. MickeyMouser jumped up on his perch in the studio when I went in as if to say, “Don’t even think about me coming in today, I’m staying here.”


The perch Lucy is on used to be one of those beautiful wicker etageres. The frame was perfect for lashing some rough wood pieces to for shelves for her to scratch and lie on. It had been in the bedroom at the window for them to look out searching for the outdoor kitties. It will likely end up in their catio.


Worried about the sun getting to Buster’s pond and some more inspecting of it, it was clear that it seriously needed a cleaning out. Bucket by bucket the existing water was fished out and applied to plants around. There was a moment of fear thinking Buster had been fished out too and thrown somewhere because even to the last little puddle of water, she kept hiding. There she finally was.

She was put in the bucket with some fresh water while the pond was better cleaned out and put back in once the refilling was well underway. She kept peeking up to see if I was looking at her. She’s so cute — red-eared pond slider. She was slowly making her way across a street one day where I was walking and came home to live with us.

It definitely has a leak because it was filled to overflowing yesterday.

After these images were taken, more boards were placed to keep direct sun off as much as possible with lots of places for her to eek out to bask. The recommendation is to keep a pond covered at least 75% with plants or covers to help keep algae at bay. Duckweed would be a great resolve because it would cover the pond in no time and turtles can live on duckweed. Now to work on a better cover. Oh me, oh my oh.

It seems that every single little sprout from the sweet potato has gotten roots and many already have started leafing out.


More oh me, oh my oh! Where to plant them once they’re ready??


A little time out for reminiscing when an old suitcase of my mother’s came in to be sorted. It had some memorabilia in it. This string of critters were prototypes for more that were made to sell. It was a first attempt at an entrepreneurial endeavor since I was well on my way to being sick of working retail for someone who wasn’t very nice.

It was supposed to be my turn to be the featured designer in this article but the owner didn’t like the client I had chosen to be talked about — the client’s style was garish even though she spent tons of money in the store.

I’m the one in houndstooth. It all got so very tiring.

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The walnut critter on the far left, in the palm of my hand, was one sent by my cousin one year for Christmas. I thought the idea was so clever, I set about getting walnuts for the cotton-ball-pillow tummy to be stuffed into and filbert nuts for their faces and all kinds of bits and bobs to dress them up all kinds of ways. I calculated every square or straight inch of everything to come up with a per each cost and I think it was 50 cents per critter. I tried to sell them for $3 each and many sold. I would open an egg carton with a dozen of them in it, (before they got so elaborate they were just little baskets and the walnuts sat where the eggs would have.) Whoever was around would come over and ooh and awe and try to pick the face they wanted.

It wasn’t long before I would realize that it was just too much work for what was gotten and that I am NOT a real salesperson. I’m an idea person. Selling is NOT my thing.

I made $100 once and turned right around to give it to an emergency clinic when the knife I was using to clean the walnut shells slipped and stabbed the middle of my hand. I needed stitches.

It wasn’t much longer before I became aware that money doesn’t motivate me, freedom does — freedom to sit and make “mice” to my hearts content, even if they can’t be sold, just because I want to and it’s fun. The only solution to that dilemma was to need less. So here I am with no Ferrari parked in a storage unit to go out riding in when I get bored and want to show off.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Back to the work of making life the way I like it.

Tin-foil hat lady signing off. Hope you have a great day.



The World Stopped

Buster’s pond cover has been being torn apart from raking winds over the last week or so.

That darned tarp was $25 I think. It is riddled now. All the grommets pulled away and the mesh started shredding. I really knew better, but I was rather desperate to get something up once spring started advancing.

Well, I took the second cattle panel over to try to work with it for the pond instead of another kitty thing.

I think I will order a truck load of cattle panels because I never find an end to needing one.

What had been done for Buster’s pond, this last go round, was that the tarp was lashed to both sides of the fence after being draped over the old canopy frame. That frame was rather useless too.

Is anything made worth a cent these days?

That big clump of water iris started as one single little piece. It grows like mad. I have long been trying to get a source for duckweed and there is an aquatic plant place not too far away that sometimes has it — but, once the world stopped, they weren’t open. I was going to get a rubber liner and redo the whole thing. Guess that will have to wait like everything else.

Did that sound sarcastic? Good.

So, the cattle panel got wrangled over to where it needs to be but it needs a fence post or two on the low footer side since the yard wedges at that end and the panel needs to be straight to bend into an arch. There really needs to be two arches, but we’ll start with one.

There is one fence post in the ground at the plum tree — used when it was first planted to keep it straight. All the ties corroded long ago so that post isn’t needed there. It will have to be dug out and I was simply fried by the time it came to doing that and came in to cook something to eat.

After wrangling the panel to the pond, I draped whatever blanket was lying around over it a little and went to work on the kitties venue.


Trying to figure out a way to make a door, the old rusted wire thing, that used to be my bed box spring, was brought over and, after flopping it all over clumsily, it suddenly dawned on me that it could be bent to make a small dome to extend their playground.


There just happened to be two pieces of corrugated metal to use to secure the holes in the wire and make it better for rainy days? There’s another piece kicking around that can be cut to fit. Those two were perfect.

It would be nice to get a litter box out there where they might like to make their stinks for the strays around???


That wall should have been addressed before any of this got started — I never seem to do things right.

That metal etagere was purchased in 1973 or so for $10. It was one of those lost leaders Levitz Furniture used to have to drag people in, (remember bean bags?) It used to be gold. Can you believe it is still kicking around?!?!?

I guess some things endure.


The kitties are shortening their stay inside every day it seems. I almost slammed MickeyMouser in the back door not realizing he was trying feverishly to get back to the studio. He wouldn’t settle down until I took him back out.

This is how I get to live when they are not inside…


No plastic on any of the upholstered things and the second chair brought back out from inside the mudroom. There isn’t plastic for it.

The drape on the green velvet swivel was supposed to be a rug, but it hasn’t been finished and was useful to cover that mess of a chair until — don’t hold your breath — I learn how to upholster.

I love that chair. It’s so comfortable. And it swivels.

The chaste tree is full of bees loving the purple blossoms.

And I need to get busy like the bees and figure out when these prickly pears need to be harvested. I guess they aren’t going to be the red kind? This is the very first year it has had pears and it only happened after the whole plant toppled and regrew from what was left.

All the other pieces were planted and are just babies everywhere you look.

The world may have stopped, but I haven’t. Have you?

Let’s start our own New World without any orderers.

Grow food. Make things. Love.

That They Tell


Hearing the trash truck in the alley was the only thing that would make me jump out of bed this morning. Once he’s there, it is no time before he is around from the back and heading for mine in the front.

A bad habit of staying up too late has been happening again. It has something to do with length or movement of sunlight in a day.

All the rooms in the house have been being left open so that there is a free flow for movement now that the kitties are spending their biggest chunks of time out in the studio — so, before they can come in come morning, things have to be buttoned up again.

Plastic goes on the upholstered things and doors get closed to rooms that they can no longer go in. That is why they get bored so easily — they can’t go flying from window to window hunting the outdoor kitties.

So they meow around, eat some, talk a lot and sprawl. In there somewhere, one or both of them want some brushing — I end up the fuzz ball.

I got most of the living room floor painted and all of the hall. Now to clean the bathroom and paint that floor and then the bedroom.

No more work was done on the catio yesterday. There is still some adjusting to do to the sudden rise in temperature. That’s always how this desert does, BOOM, heat! Yesterday there were some spits of rain but not much cooling off occurred — a little reminder of the upcoming delightful monsoons it seems.


No teapots got dusted either but here they are for you to see for the sake of telling stories — dust or not.

A video I watched somewhere in the day yesterday was of a woman speaking about cleaning out chakras (or some such) — I was searching for more about her since she was interviewing Crrow777radio.com personality, Crow.

Most of what she was saying sounded like gobbledygook to me at this time, but she did speak my language about home maintenance. She was talking about making her bed. She just closes the door to her bedroom since she will just be back in it later — “What’s the sense of making it?” was her attitude. I feel pretty much the same. It also doesn’t make sense to cover up any heat or leftover body parts from circulating air. I often take blankets out to get disinfected by the sun.

The point she was making was that there are far more important things to do than make a bed, like cleaning out body demons. “Who will ever know about your unmade bed?” she asked.

Is OCD a body demon?

The teapots will get dusted, eventually — because I like to look at them clean — especially when they’re telling me their stories.

They did get moved around a little because their placements didn’t seem quite right.


The previous post has an image of how they were before this OCD event.

That little gold cream and sugar set were something I found while spending a day with my mother in Palm Springs — sometime in the late 80s. I’ve always had less money than I could have, and I was admiring and lusting after them and said to my mother something like, “I sure would like to have them.” They were probably $20 or so, I forget, maybe $30 — that would have been more scary at that time. She said her usual thing, “If you think you are going to lose sleep over them, you’d better get them.”

I vet everything by those words now… or still, and always feel my mother by my side.

So many wonderful stories in all these bits and bobs. The purple saucer was my grandmother’s. I swear we inherit color preferences with our DNA. The cup is somewhere where it looks better. I think all the little demi cups and whatever saucers they are on were in love packages from my aunt. The sets in the back I bought.

The little black lunging kitty was a gift from a boyfriend I dragged on a treasure hunt years ago. He was like a bull in a china shop — big, but like a cat the way he meandered around with grace and care. I picked it up, probably because I had an all-black cat at the time. I put it back on the shelf and he picked it up behind me, “I think you need to have this.”

Seems we need our memories more than ever now. I know I do.

That little black kitty lunged off a shelf one time and broke its lunging leg. “Should I let it go?” went through my mind. You can see what happened. I still know the man though I have to remind him of the story.

I noticed the bus was running this morning so it looks like people are trying to pretend that things are going back to like they were before the world stopped. It’s often fun pretending but I don’t think we have that luxury now.

I’m not pretending, but I still need some groceries while I can still get them.

I guess I can at least put off starving for later.

Happy days.