and then there was light . . .

The cave, by virtue of it's name, is a rather dark but cozy retreat. But the word dank has recently been added to the list of adjectives and while I love the cave, I am no Gollum. Our sometime violent summer storms have bested our roof and we have sprung leaks . . . as in more than one. We are getting water logged. Roofers, it seems, are hard to come by since everyone else is in the same boat . . . er . . . ark. The first has yet to return my call. The second said it would be some time before they could get to us even to give us a quote. Monday, we are hoping to hear from #3. I am not holding my breath.

Since there were other chores choking our home repair to-do list, and I was already burning up the phone lines, we tracked down someone to come out and repair some elderly cedar siding. He will be here in two weeks . . . fingers crossed. And once again, it was time to trim the monster Laural Oak out front. I love this tree. It is gorgeous and healthy but HUGE. The tree service not only trimmed but aerated it and while they were at it, trimmed the sycamore, holly and three oaks that were looming over the roof and pool. They left with a semi truck load of lopped off foliage. And now there is light in the cave. I am happy, if still damp.

Not so happy, are the neighbor cats that like to use our pool cage as a hammock. I got dirty looks this morning as they discovered their path was thwarted.

who let the cat out of the bag . . .

Katie came home with a new catch-all bag. And since Ninja loves small nesty spots, it didn't take long before we spied this . . .



and this . . .



and I can't seem to stop taking pictures, so this . . .



and this . . .



She stayed nested for almost a half hour before we dug her out. Silly beastie!

The flip side . . .

Yesterday was not a good day:

I sprouted a honker of a cold sore and named it Soma after the witch from India.

I wrote six checks. Five medical and one for wine.

Publix was out of fresh shrimp and we had to eat frozen. Yet another reminder that I am spoiled.

I am stiff from my first yoga class in three months.

Yesterday was a good day:

Our router is fixed and we are back on line.

I had the money to pay the bills

The 9TS made a delicious shrimp Aioli served with warm chiabatta bread and spiced evoo.

For the first time in three months, I felt so relaxed I came home an conked out.

more Brush*Abilities . . .

After an extremely frustrating 2.5 hour conversation with India, my new router is up and running. Yesterday was NOT a good day. But that being said, this morning, bright and early, I was back playing with Brush*Abilities, making my own tag, inking and stitching around the edges. Woohoo, CS4 allows stitching in any direction. I am back to dancing around in the morning shafts of light, much to the consternation of three beasties, who think I have finally and irrevocably lost my marbles. I am so easily amused. This makes me happy. Thanks, Jessica!

Winnie the Pooh this ain't . . .

My neighbor Joanie sent me this shot the other day. At first I thought it was adorable until what I was seeing sank in. It is bear mating season in this neck of the woods but lest you forget, I don't live in the Blue Ridge Mountains, the Rockies or even the Catskills. I live near the shore . . . in a small community . . . the kind with a HOA. You know, you've seen them. Manicured lawns, pristine drive ways, awards for design. (I'm speaking in general here since we all know the Cave is not exactly award winning material.) But you get my drift. This is NOT where one would expect to see a bear. Yet just two equally similar developments down, this is the shot a friend of a friend took in his front yard.



See what I mean about manicured. ACK!!!! Mating season or not, he needs to be looking elsewhere for a wife. I'm thinking no one on this block is going to volunteer. Shoo! Winnie. Shoo! Go back to the 100 acre woods.

Brush*Abilities . . .

Yep, I'm doing my tippy tappy dance again. There's another new course at the Spraground, called Brush*Abilities, focused almost exclusively on the not so lowly Brush Tool. Hooray! I have steadfastly ignored that little guy since my love affair with .png blossomed a couple of years ago but now I fear, I must cheat on Mr. Png. Sorry my love, but Mr. B is quite a guy. Very versatile and oh so much more creative.

day 1, we played with off setting and jitter. Now normally I associate jitter with a dollop of caffeine which I steadfastly avoid unless we are talking about chocolate . .
and have I mentioned that the 9TS brought home this absolutely sinful, chocolate on chocolate cake the other night which I am dutifully gnawing at one decedent, succulent bite at a time. Yummo. But, I digress. We are talking THIS kind of jitter.



day 2 brought working with chalk and a quote. You'll recognize this little gem!



day 3 was scuffing . . . a technique that reminds me of well worn jeans and ratty old penny loafers . . . yes I am of that vintage.


day 4 and I am IN LOVE! I mean serious love. We learned how to make our own frames. This little goodie will keep me happily occupied for hours. Seriously.



day 5 does it get any better? OH MY GOSH, we are making our own grunge clipping masks. Let me just faint now and get it over with.


day 6 is organizational information. We all know I was asleep in the back row during this class. Organize what? Get my ducks in a row? Not I. Sigh.

I feel like a . . .

complete dummy. It's not that I have an extensive vocabulary. I don't, but I can usually come up with a plausible definition of an unfamiliar word if read it in context. But today, I was flummoxed. I've been on this pulp fiction binge. Well not exactly pulp fiction, maybe a step or two above . . . Evanovich, Siddons, Patterson and now back to an old favorite, Lawrence Sanders. Years ago I read his McNally series and a couple of his "Commandment" books. Stumbling upon, The Eighth Commandment at our local used bookstore, I started reading it last night. I confess, I enjoy his books, but this one, written in 1986 had me pondering definitions.

Last night I was too tired to do anything about it. This afternoon, I finished the book with a pen and paper in hand and a list of words I needed to look up. Fantods? Jape? Foulard? Panoplies? OK, so by virtue of context, I guessed well on foulard. Jape rattled some ancient memory but I was a tad off base. The others? I was lost in space. Good grief, even spell check got snaggled up on fantods. And these don't count the numerous words I swept by last night without recording. Is my cerebellum shrinking? Am I stagnating academically?

Who knows. But it did remind me of a fascination a few of us acquired in high school via Miss Molding, our 10th grade English teacher. She suggested we learn a word a week. Sunday nights, we'd dig through the dictionary to find obscure words and write them on the palm of our hands. The simple fact that they remained etched on skin for several or more days in a row now makes me want to dive into a bottle of antibacterial soap but at 16, who cared. Infarct is still my favorite. I like the way it rolls off the tongue and although I have never had occasion to use it, you never know when the need may arise.

The point to this all? Nothing earth shattering, I had just forgotten how much I love words. I am a simple nerd. A lexpionager.