chantico

I have been so very busy, and yet cannot show off any of it. On one hand, this is excellent; it means I am either doing Real Work that is under contract or have been too busy with said Real Work to post or work on anything of my own; on the other, well . . . no work of my own.

Other than work, art and otherwise, life has been pretty excruciatingly boring and grey. I am prepping my garden for an influx of snow peas and spinach seeds (we'll see if I actually get them in the ground this year). Mostly I want flowers, but it is too early to put in any of those. So spinach and snow peas it is, and those should be gone by the time I'm planting pretty things that I don't have to pay much attention to. I hope my Morning Glowires come back; they did last year, which surprised me. Morning Glories are absolutely my favorite flower, especially the blue ones. MOrning Glory blue is the perfect blue.

Um, what else . . . sending out wedding invitations, still; I'm so close to being done! Then comes the planning for the ceremony (i.e. picking out music). I'm not allowed to do anything to plan the parties, which is driving me a little nuts-- OMG, I'm not in contorl, something could go wrong! Fucking weddings, man.

Uh.

Very anti-social, unless it's in my house.

Yeah.

That's all. So boring, it hurts.

The scent of sap is in the air. A couple of weeks ago, you could catch it if you were mindful, if the sun was on a grass. The rainstorm yesterday was the last little push it needed, and now the bushes behind my house are flush with the green glow. Soon, the garden will need planting and the patio put in order so that I can spend the days outside, sucking up delicious warmth. Sun: the best mood-enchancing drug I know.

Winter passed easier this year than some, until about mid-february, when The Crazy came home to roost. Every year, I pace nervously in my mental attic, waiting for it. "Maybe not this year." I'll think. "I've been good so far, this year. I've kept it together! There has been cheer! I've been productive!" Sometimes, there isn't much of a wait before it comes at my inner door with e sledgehammer (Heeeeeeerrrreee's CRAZY!). Some winters, however, it's sneakier, and waits in the bushes outside, watching me through the windows, *stalking*. I always know it is there; at night, it comes in and saps my energy and will to move. But when the strike happens, it's like Hobbes tackling Calvin: it is EXUBERENT in the hostile takeover. This time I only lost half a month, just a little over two weeks, despite the lurking beginning in November. I call that a win in general, the severity of the spell aside.

Spring has come, and I live again!

To post positive proof, I have art. Here are two pictures from what I worked on over the killing months. I'll let more trickle out later.

Belcraft
Verlayne, Orion, Keoffry