Monday, May 30, 2011

I Love Ralph Lauren

I love my coffee, my dog, my unicorn meat eating cats, and a sheet set by Ralph Lauren. They don't have the plastic stuff on them that cheap sheets do. Now, this is of no interest to anyone but me, but I think sheets should smell like my Grandfather's cedar chest, if they are to function properly, like putting me to sleep. They should have a somewhat iron smell that cedar and my Grandfather's hair oil did. They should be crisp and cool when one slides into them, and the blanket should be handmade by Great-grandmother, or Martha Stewart.

Many evils are committed for hunger's sake, but it all really boils down to sheets. I have been hungry, poor, discouraged and lonely, but nothing makes up for it like a really nice set of sheets. And if you think I am just tired, think again. I am. My dog loves his bone, my cats have a passing fancy for catnip and I love Ralph Lauren. Is he dead or what?

Thursday, May 26, 2011

I Turn To See You

 I have taken AdSense off of my blog from the sheer weariness of looking at that drivel below my posts.

I have added Russia to my blog viewers. It's nice to know that in a country the size of Russia, some ONE has noticed this blog. Although it's a miracle really. When I think of Russia, I think of angst ridden characters sipping tea from glasses and looking out at the fields while contemplating death. You know, Chekov stories. Or small apartments with no electricity or toilet paper, (Moscow on the Hudson.)

I know it's a stereotype. Culturally, Russians are as sophisticated as all get out. They modeled their society on the most high flying culture of Peter the Great's time: France. But Russia added practicality to the model. France is all out for anything, anytime; supporting Libyan liberty without committing any resources. Russia accepts liberty, but never expects any improvement in their own lives. In fact, millions of Russians are always slaughtered when a new ideal sweeps the country. That takes guts.

Meanwhile, my cats are happy with Purina.

I stand knee deep in grass
The storm is here,
I turn to see you,
the fire is coming.

I Would Like to Thank the Nobel Committee

and being asked to do a monthly blog for the Southwest Virginia Artists IS a Nobel for me. Not much gets noticed in Southwest Virginia...we are considered too unsophisticated. Although all the best music, paintings, and poetry get done here, we lack the culinary skills to be considered top drawer. Well, we don't lack the culinary skills, Easterners just think we do. We supposedly eat hog and beans and swing from trees. Not that there is anything bad about either. Swinging from a tree is about the best fun one can have this side of the dirt. And if made correctly, there are subtleties to pork and beans missed by many.

The cats are pissed that I am painting my apartment. I am happy with the color just not the smell. How my dog stands it I don't know, but that is the nature of being a dog. You have to put up with everything.Although, the way he farts, maybe the scent is not too different. He can peel paint off the walls.

If you are a cat, you just leave when the slaves don't obey. Somewhere out there another slave is waiting...with better food and longer nails.

Monday, May 23, 2011


The unicorn meat eating orphans have taken to running up and down my face all night to punish me for not letting them outside. It's a bit like those Japanese women who run up and down one's back, only it's not. Minkins, the boy, is become philosophical about the whole thing...Echo, the girl, tries to claw through the glass and howls...usually starting about 10 o'clock at night. That is, as soon as I lay down and she is sure she has an audience.

Max, the new corgi, thinks the whole thing is just too interesting and starts barking or chasing them around the bed. Just to keep it fun. I need to modify Eddie's service animal vest to fit Max. He is just as broad as Ed was, but from muscle, not tubbiness. And he's about 3 feet shorter than Eddie. You'll know him when you see him at Mill Mountain Coffee.

Queen Elizabeth collects corgis. I suppose after the brouhaha about Charles' nuptials, a pack of small yappy dogs seems a relief. They have a medium throated bark, not Chihuahua, not Newfoundland and I guess they drown out anything she doesn't really want to hear. Kind of a royal face saver, "Your Majesty, the economy is in the tank." "Yes, order one in fuchsia as well; the one with the brim." Not that the Queen doesn't care about the economy, but she is darn certain not going to give any of those castles back to the Scottish and they already turn their bedsheets to save the washing of them. What more can one ask?

And I'll tell you the truth, dear Reader, now that I have been recognized by other artists as an artist, outside of Hollins, writing this blog is scary. I think I was so much more funny before I gave a damn and was writing for that dude in Slovakia.

It's All Gouda

I am honored to be asked to join Southwest Virginia Artists.

Now for the dirt:
The unicorn meat eating cats have banded together to eat the dog's food. Meanwhile the dog, a STRAY, only likes the $ 47 a bag food that the neighbor's dog eats. Something has to give.

And it figures that now that I live in Roanoke, it's most interesting attraction, the Food Court in the Market Building, is closed until August. The funnest thing to do Downtown is eat, after all...look at all the restaurants and even the coffee shop has an extensive menu. So does the Art Museum. Everyone eats, except the Board of Supervisors. They live by osmosis, like amoeba, or a virus.

Friday, May 20, 2011

My Life of Crime

Got a mani and pedi at Ilema's Esthetique in Salem, the "High Maintenance Center for Men and Women" today. Next door at "Lourine's", she sells wigs and breast prosthesis. It's fun to help someone with creative advice who is out for a new look as they enter or leave chemo or radiation. I have never met anyone who wasn't pumped about getting any hair they want.

For a nail color, I picked "Last Night on Wisteria Lane" which is a hot pink...usually I like "Meet Me at the Copier" or "Out for a Drink of Lunch", but I wanted something more sentimental to match my leavetaking of my home of 25 years in Botetourt County.

The cats are especially pissed because they are now indoors only, after 11 years of crawling all over the backwoods of Troutville and cruising God's Own Half Acre, as Mom used to say. They have never known any other life and take it out on me every night: howling, crying, crouching at the screen door, being tortured by the birds...I'm such a bitch. But I lost too many animals on a busy street growing up in Roanoke, and now that I am on a quiet one, I don't feel any safer. They are too innocent in the ways of the big City, and too trusting of dogs, since they were raised by one.

This article is not only to say goodbye to Home, I have more grieving to do and will write about it in the future, but is also dedicated to River Laker, one mean kilt-wearing...sorry...jeans wearing dude about town; practicing for his Marilyn Monroe tribute...Marilyn over the heating grate, that is. Shorts don't have the same impact as a kilt would, but I think the brou ha ha about his strip tease took something out of him...yes, that IS a challenge. After all, do you know of any question more perennial than, "Do they wear something under there?"

Wednesday, May 18, 2011


continues to dig me, according to my stats, which is really cool with me.  I would love to be in Europe right now. Although the spring is magnificent this year, unless you live in Chicago, which is much cooler than  usual, or anywhere in reach of the Mississippi River, which is much wider than usual.

Blackberry was returned and adopted out...The pit/lab mix ended up being named Capt. Jack Sparrow and being much more energetic than I had planned for. He got adopted thanks to the combined efforts of the Roanoke Valley SPCA. Now I have been gifted with a beautiful corgi mix, a rescue from Boone, NC. I named him Maxwell, which is pretty boring on the whole. I was going to name him Peanut Butter, after my niece's chicken, but was voted down in a poll.

I have moved back into Roanoke City, where I spent my teenage years. It's a blast from the past to be 5 minutes from Downtown...although I am not giving up my Daleville Mill Mtn. Coffee & Tea...the baristas are too cool. More later. I just wanted to check back in...Love to All.