Calvinists Just Want to Have Fun

 

We have a good friend who has on several occasions referred to Bob and I as Calvinists. I am certain that his facetious reference alludes to what he sees as a sober, hard-working couple whose idea of fun is well, sober and hard-working. I don't know about the "sober" aspect (as we do enjoy our tipple!) but I suppose the hard-working label has some truth to it. I offer the above picture for illustration.

One end of my riding area is low and because I have to squeeze every square foot of available flat land to use for my equestrian pursuits (*1), I thought to raise this end up by adding dirt. But before dirt must come rocks to stabilize and fill in some of that space that needs raising.

This requires moving rocks- of which we have plenty!- from point A to point B. There's a heap of rocks where several large trees fell down at the edge of the horse field, fortunately not too far from my low area. This necessitates pilling the rocks into the wheel barrow. Oh! We love our wheel barrows! Probably one of our most useful tools...

I transport the rocks in smaller "lady-like" loads as I am a small Calvinist and not as strong as my male counterpart. But I get the job done, singing stirring Calvinist hymns as I go. Many barrowsful did I schlepp today! Along with "contami-poop" (*2) as dirt is in short supply. The "contami-poop" fills in the spaces between the rocks and cover them. I will then add more dirt on top. Use what you have!

Yes, I realize the partially broken down manure will settle and sink, but it's available and there's more to add if it sinks a whole lot. In the meantime, I'm making progress and having a blast. I don't know about you, but even if something is hard physically, it can still be pleasant. Besides, I get the pleasure of knowing that a bit of labor makes my riding experience more fun. Anyone interested in a real good time can feel free to come on over and help me work!

(*1) The "official" size of a small dressage arena is 60' x 120' I am a tad tight on one end width-wise... the end I'm attempting to make higher. When you're piloting a 1000 pound beast around at speed, every foot counts!

(*2) "Contami-poop" is the horse manure I sequestered while Neko was on antibiotics for her Lyme disease. I also save aside the manure produced when I administer horse wormer (Yes! Ivermectin! Hard to find these days because of (ahem) alternative use as a COVID therapy. So this manure is not good for use in composting for garden use, but perfect for filling holes.

 

 

You Tote 16 Tons...

 

Bob gets a steel delivery fairly often as he makes his metal supports for plants out of various strips and rods. Often, the amount he gets is "reasonable"and he simply drags it on a wheelie cart down to his studio. But if he gets a particularly large, heavy shipment and the ground is firm enough, he drives it down. Fortunately, the ground was still frozen, as the above delivery was particularly large! Apparently, the steel company either did a job and the measurement was wrong or there was a serious amount of "drops" (*1) and they offered them to Bob cheap. He jumped at the opportunity to get a slew of steel in a size he often uses... but it was a really big load!

Maybe this doesn't look like a huge amount to you but believe me, it was a ton (literally!) of steel. I like to help Bob out by assisting him in relocating the steel from our driveway, down to his studio. I can't even imagine how hard that would be to schlepp all of that metal by oneself, let alone how long it would take. Besides, it was supposed to rain tomorrow and Bob didn't want the steel to get wet and then rust making for a lot more clean up.

So step one was simply picking all that steel up and loading it onto the truck. (We did about a third of it on the previous day as there was waaaaaaaaaaaaay too much to consider doing all in one morning.) So we made four trips down with approximately the same amount of steel bands, picking them up from the driveway and then unloading them at Bob's studio.

Above, an interior shot of Bob's studio, where all that steel was being stored. Just for context, there were 672 bands of steel, each about 68 inches long. It felt like more! I off-loaded them from the truck and Bob stacked them in the above corner of his studio. Need I tell you we're both pretty tired now? But at least the steel is where it needed to be and we don't have to do anything like this again, any time soon!

There's Bob and his glow-in-the-dark hands, standing on a pile of 20 foot lengths. We'll sleep well tonight!

(*1)  Drops are the left over "scraps" after the size that was ordered was cut from the 20' piece.

A World of Shit

 

Originally, this was meant to be a light-hearted blog post about how much horse poop I am surrounded by on a daily basis. (*1) Two horses produce quite a lot of feces in the average 24 hour cycle, but hideous weather where everything froze up into thousands of rock-hard equine byproduct pyramids has rendered our horse field a truly sordid mess... and that was the funny idea for a post! Hahahha!!

Close up of multi-layered poops. Sometimes it seems the horses are "trying to help" by eliminating multiple times in one spot. I dunno; what occurs is shit insulation that makes the whole lump harder because ice forms and doesn't thaw underneath. I can't win! 

Here's Mount PoopMore. And see all the lumpy darker items in the background? Yes, more horse shit! That chestnut-colored item off to the upper left is one of the instigators of all this mess.

But my point is... the world is shit! I am so freaked out/disgusted/angry/scared/horrified at what putin has done in Ukraine! We are surrounded by shit, and the shit produced by other people! So it's not awful enough that we're (still) in a pandemic, have Climate Crisis to deal with, have half of our country's population getting weirder and scarier by the minute... and now we have to consider the distinct possibility of nuclear annihilation? No wonder I'm exhausted!

Although this was a pretty funny scene: I looked out our back door and wondered why Neko seemed so tall. On closer inspection it was because she had scaled Mount PoopMore- maybe to see what she could see? Who knows what goes on in the horsey mind?!!

And now putin has apparently put nuclear forces on alert?!?!?!?! Aughh! Will we live to experience Mardi Gras? (*2) Will I ever get my field cleaned up? Will it even matter?!?!?? (*3)

Picture of other suspect, Maggie. A million years old and still going (somewhat) strong. Included for no other reason than she produces 1/2 of all the equine excrement littering our fields and our lives. She shouldn't be left out!!

(*1) Typically, I keep a rigorously clean field and shovel the daily output of poop into glamorous piles which are then directed to our composting piles. Hygienic and productive!

(*2) Bob and I are going out to try and score a King Cake today. Maybe this will cheer me up!

(*3) Oh yeah: Fuck putin. I've gotten all existential...

A Little Climate Crisis, Anyone?

 

Above, my latest piece "For Greta", obviously channeling her amazing statement to world leaders during the last Climate Summit. (Wasn't it called something unfortunate and forgettable like "COPS 27"?) I share Greta Thunberg's concern that world leaders- or almost anyone else!!- aren't doing enough to halt our escalating climate crisis. Every day there are more stories of rapid sea level rise or ice chunks the size of Rhode Island breaking off and tumbling into the ocean. Not to mention fire tornadoes, floods, typhoons and other random disasters...

You people reading my blog are lucky; you're getting a sneak peak at the finished piece. All previous incarnations have been works in progress and were close to the image above, but I hadn't sewn all the "birch logs" around the "All Your" and I added nifty three-D like backings to the branch work... really made it pop. Also, I sewed on that amazingly lewd edging- shiny plastic feathering that positively screams climate disaster! I hope Greta will be pleased with my efforts. She's an terrifically brave and inspiring woman! We need more like her.

I've been a bit remiss in posting to my blog as I'm attempting to re-work my website (uh... haven't gotten there yet!), finish up several in-progress works of art, clean my studio and studio annex (see previous posting), and arrange for the next step in my brilliant career. I did sell a small art work unexpectedly the other day; that always provides a disproportionately huge shot in the arm! I feel like, "Yes! the Universe thinks I'm on the right path!" or at least I have some money to buy more iridescent plastic feathering to add onto another piece. Heavens! I'm probably accelerating the destruction of the planet with all my consumption of unnatural materials. Possibly it's produced from recycled content?

An Ultimatum

 

See this pile? This is furniture and assorted things form our deceased mother's (aka "Mommy") house. These items have resided in my Studio Annex- essentially rendering it useless- for how many years now? Three? Four? Five? I started shuffling through this ungodly heap a few weeks back. But it hit me yesterday: the things in this pile have got to go!

Anybody out there want a table? A beat-up desk? An ornately carved chair? All going to the highest bidder! One of my sister's (*1)received an ultimatum yesterday. That "brown rectangle" (as they're referred to in the antiques world) is now officially your problem; do with it what you will! 

I am retiring to the Studio Annex now, when I finish this post, to attempt to deconstruct the heap and start selecting items to photograph. What a Herculean job!! Wish me luck...

And here's one of the busted lamps. I sincerely do wish they were all worth a fortune... or even a couple of hundred bucks! But I must be realistic and say probably not worth much.

As one of my sisters helpfully pointed out, once this room is cleared I'll have so much more space! Uh... yeah, that's the idea!

(*1) I only have two... they know who they are.

My Brush With The Po-Leece

Here's my partner in crime! Trusty and I were heading home from an exciting visit to Tractor Supply where we had invested in several bags of special Equine Senior Horse Chow (formulated for those elders with few teeth and in need of a bit more fat- Maggie's department). We were tooling along, well within the speed limit and minding our driving p's and q's. We had passed under the highway underpass- a mere mile or so from home- when I espied a police car directly behind me. "Well", I thought, I'll just make sure I continue forward in an orderly and innocuous manner and thank dog we're almost home!"

But no sooner than I had made an impeccable right hand turn onto our lovely road, then the bells and whistles erupt on said police car. I've been pulled over... I hurriedly pull on my mask and rolled my window down, attempting a pleasant and vacuous smile behind my mask. "Yes Officer?" I inquire politely. The woman officer (who looks to be about fifteen years old) responds, "I bet your wondering why you've been pulled over. Your registration has expired." I demure, "But that is simply impossible! I've passed emissions just this past spring and I know I renewed my registration!!" Meanwhile, I fumble in the glove compartment, out of which is spilling insurance cards and salt and peppers from take out food and kleenex... and the envelope with my registration. I triumphantly pull it out and realize she's right (of course!) and my car's registration has expired not just in December of 2021 but December of 2020... how is this possible!!?!??!?!!? Now I feel like a crazy person.

"It must be COVID time!" I exclaim. "We haven't been driving much and gee, the paper work must have gotten lost!" She was kind enough to reply, "It happens" and let me off with a warning and a quite jolly, "I know you're going to go home and re-register your car right now!" Which I most certainly did.

And found out that Bob's truck hadn't been registered since 2019!! Hahhahhahaha!! Whoops! And how did we not get in trouble from that? We've driven to New York- where if you recall, we broke down and were towed and a policeman gave us a ride. HE could have ticketed us if he'd run our plates! We've also transported Bob's sculpture to Vermont on several occasions and never got flagged for expired registration. I guess we've been very lucky. 

Don't worry: we're all 100% legal now. It was a relative bargain, too. Only a $10 late fee (and the weird other fees they tack on like something called a park use fee...) and the original cost and we're good.

And here's a preview of fun to come! Bomb Cyclone a'comin! Get out those snow shovels and blowers! Batten the hatches and stock up on milk and toilet paper... and bread!!
 

Weather or Not

 

Nothing "candy ass" about the weather! Ay ca-rumba! One day it's 50 degrees and sunny, the next day it's 10 degrees with a wind chill of minus 5... then we get snow. Then we get weird rain and now we have three inches of soon-to-be frozen slop. I'm not looking forward to tomorrow when I try and venture out to feed the poor horses who have been struggling to remain upright on ice. Maggie went and cut her leg on something sharp (while eating her breakfast?) and her paddock looked like a crime scene. I was going to photograph it but even I demurred; too gruesome! I washed her leg off, and despite her protestations, treated her wound with Vetericyn and bandaged it. It seemed fine by this afternoon, no more bloody snow!

So at least the evil weather has proven to be fertile time for me to get into my studio and make art. Incidentally, it was so cold for three days that I didn't even attempt to make a fire in the wood stove in my studio. I worked- like old times!- in the living room. Today, I was back in the studio, cutting out letters for a new piece. Betcha wonder what this one is going to say?!?!?! You'll just have to wait until I decide to share my newest "words of the day". 

Here's a detail. Yes, all of those tiny dots are individual seed beads, hand sewn on. I was referencing that weird (to my mind anyway!) candy that came on strips of paper. It always had bits of paper stuck to the back of the individual dots and I can't for the life of me remember it tasting like anything at all. But some friends have confessed to LIKING that candy. Go figure!

And little did I know that there is a queer, Jewish, male artist named Cary Liebowitz who goes by the name "Candy Ass". And he and I have a lot in common when you look at his work: he uses text- often scrawled in a awkward, hand written sort of way, he uses profanity (who me?!?), references the art world ... and he's funny. Check it out! Anyway, I knew nothing about him until a friend mentioned him to me on Instagram. You learn something every day!
 

                                               

 I decided to do my Candy Ass piece because my good friend Wasil often used this phrase to refer to stupid, clumsy or weak things or people. (He doesn't recall using this phrase but where the hell would I come up with it??!?!) I am dedicating this piece to Wasil... he's not candy ass at all!!