Proof of Life

       Squeaky Monkey has been retired as the co-pilot of my car.
Though not elderly per se, he has reached the point in an inflatable's life where constant exposure to the sun and temperature changes has not only begun to change his color, but make him a bit more brittle. It would be terrible if one day i got in my car and found him all deflated and pathetic in his seat belt from popping, so inside he went.
He was not amused by the term retired and had declared himself Sargent at Arms for the living room. No, i have no idea what that even means, but he seems satisfied with that so who am i to question it.

      After driving alone for a while, a new co-pilot happened along.

His name is Cyrano.

Margaret H gave him to me.

He is very quiet, 

rides in the console,

 and loves snickerdoodles.

      Those specific snickerdoodles were bought at a cookie and brownie stand that two girls had set up on the corner in Suzanne's neighborhood and we all know that i can not resist enterprising children. The cookie were overpriced, but were some of the BEST snickerdoodles i have ever had, They must have been made in muffin pans instead of on a cookie sheet because the bottoms were rounded up and crunchy.

There is only one more weekend of pet-sitting and then the busy season is officially over.
Then starts festival season.
I have been getting a lot of new jewelry made and hope to have an Etsy update (or 2) in the next month.

      Another new crockpot recipe has been marked off of the list. Last Friday i adapted a traditional slowcooker  roast  recipe to make beefstew to celebrate the official beginning of autumn. Cassie and Mike joined me for dinner and we all agreed that it turned out really tasty, though the quinoa never fully cooked up.

The previous Friday Lydia and I went on mayhaps the greatest Friday Adventure ever.
 It involved glassblowing.
Pictures to follow.

i found it!

My missing pink camera card reader has been located.
The culprit was not evil gnomes as suspected or even the increasingly bold mouse that tap dances in my kitchen nightly.
No, indeed.
It was a beloved companion whom i never even suspected: Squeaky Monkey.
I don't know why it was hidden, tucked away at the back of the passenger seat of my car under Squeaky Monkey's feet and he was mum on the subject.
Let's do a quick run down of last month now that we have photos, shall we?

Erin and I (along with baby Caleb) attended the Festival of the Wreaths at the Carroll County Arts Council, which is in a cool converted Art Deco theater. There were over 150 wreaths decorated in every style and theme. Erin had created a fun one out of craft supplies with her friend Amy of One Artsy Mama dot com. In fact, Erin is now working with Amy on the blog.

  Go visit them

.

And now a gratuitous adorable baby shot.

I like to really get utility from things.
It is important to me to not be wasteful.

But mayhaps it is time to get a new laundry basket.








There was one of those you-can-steal-a-present gift exchanges at a Christmas party that i  attended and a designed a ReWearables necklace as my offering. Good news: it turned out well and several people liked it. Bad news: there was almost a fist fight when one woman took it away from another. I was rather conflicted: great for my ego, bad for the Christmas Spirit.
At the same exchange i came away with a cement hedgehog.

The drive to Ohio on Christmas Eve was again fraught with questionable weather. Why can't it ever just be cold, but sunny?
The fog in the mountains was awesome and i mean it in the definition of inspiring an overwhelming feeling of fear.
Here is the visibility in the valleys, on the ascents/descents and on the mountain tops.

I got the best ho socks ever for Christmas,

and an Elf on the Shelf.

But not some ordinary Elf on the Shelf.

Oh, no.

Mine is full of candy, has a fan and LIGHTS UP.

I also have an interesting story about driving back in time, but that will have to wait because i need to go pick up the shawarma.

i wonder about the people around me

I have been housesitting and needed to run home last night to pick up some more clothes as it looks like i might get snowed in here. Plus, with the weather the way it is supposed to be, the home owner both probably can't fly in tomorrow and frankly doesn't want to leave Florida.
Driving back with a load of laundry (ahhhhh... free washer/dryer; yet another housesitting perk) i turned onto the main road between Catonsville and Arbutus behind a big red pick-up truck. The road is 25 mph, but no one and i mean no one drives 25 on it; even coasting you go quite a bit faster than that as it is a big downhill.
Imagine my surprise when the pick-up immediately lays on his brakes.
 WHAT?
We are going under the speed limit.
UNDER 25 MPH, PEOPLE!
Drifting in first gear you go faster than 25.
He is on the brakes all the way down the hill, keeping our speed around a break neck 20-ish.
I realized as i tried not to accidentally rear end him that there was a ladder sticking out of the bed of the truck. Okay, maybe it isn't secured really well and he is just being careful.
Then as we take some curves at an astounding 15 mph -did i mention that this is the main road into Arbutus?; the line of cars behind me was impressive - i noticed the glint of metal in the bed by the ladder.
What is that?
It was a red drum set.
Not drums sitting in the back of the truck, whole sections of a drum kit unsecured in the pick-up with a ladder. Cymbals were on their stands, drums were exposed to the elements - it was CHAOS. A  jillion years ago (the early/mid 90's), i roadied for my friend Ron, tearing down, packing and securing his kit.
What in the world was this guy thinking? 
I would never, ever, ever put a drum into a vehicle without a case; heck i don't even like soft-side cases because they don't seem protective enough.
At least the mystery of his ridiculous speed was solved. I guess if i had a drum kit and a ladder in a pick-up i'd try to drive as slowly as possible.
Wait... where could this guy be going?
What kind of situation calls for you putting your assembled drum kit into a pick-up, uncovered, with a ladder on a Saturday night?
Was he rushing to a party emergency? His friend's party planner had messed up the crepe paper streamers and the band was stuck in traffic?
Or was it a nightclub emergency? The lighting rig at the club his friend owns was malfunctioning and the out-of-town band's drums had been damaged by the baggage handlers?
Had he spotted the DrumMan signal shining on a conveniently passing cloud?
The more i thought about it the better the story got in my head. I could easily follow him - we were already headed in the same direction - and see what was what.
But then he turned down a seriously creepy side road that leads nowhere and i decided that maybe, maybe i didn't want to know the story after all .

WHAT DO I DO?

I have a serious pet peeve about parking.
Obviously you need to be within the lines to be parked legally, but I really, really, really think people should park straight and in the middle of the space. Yes, it takes 5-7 extra SECONDS of your life to pull in, partially back out and pull back in straight and centered, but now everyone around you can get in and out of their car without banging doors PLUS others can use your car to judge the straightness of their own parking job.
It is not that hard, people.
This might be my strongest pet peeve - stronger than my archeology/paleontology thing, even stronger than my hatred of the word brontosaurus - as anyone who had to practice parking the vans for me can testify. For that reason I am a very deliberate parker.
Can you imagine my distress pulling into this nightmare of confusion?

Wha...?
There are multiple lines going in multiple directions, everything is faded and nothing lines up with the cement stops.
This is wrong on so many levels.
If I had yellow spray paint I would totally go remark this parking lot in the middle of the night.

Piedmonts in the spring

sigh...

i do love when the mountains are lush with green...
 I am in Ohio celebrating National Scrapbooking Month (yes, that is a thing) with my BFF.
The drive was much better this time than my Christmas visit. I am sad, but in no way surprised to report that the "work zone" at 79 in Pennsylvania is still there with NO discernible change in the last 5 months. Way to go PennDOT!