The Squirrels Don't Care About Carbs
Remember how I tried to make brownies in the attic and car last week and then baked them in the oven the next day and they didn't really come out like normal brownies? I've been forgetting to tell you that I took the brownies home, to throw them away and wash the pan, but they wouldn't come out because they were very thoroughly adhered to the pan. They were never cut into squares, though someone chiseled a hole into the middle of them, and there was just no way the rest of the mix was coming out--I had to use all my muscle to gouge just a little bit out. Francisco put the pan on the table out on the deck, and the squirrels have been eating it. I was really worried at first that it would harm them, but it's been several days and they're not dead yet, and more and more are showing up to snack. The pan is nearly empty now and soon I'll be able to wash it. Do you see how nature takes care of us when we can't take care of ourselves? Just say yes.
I won't be able to photograph train graffiti today or tomorrow, due to the rain from Bonnie and Charlie, but Francisco says he'll go with me one lunchtime next week. He does not want me going to the train yard alone, which I can sort of understand, but in that case he should lend me the small revolver, right? Nah, I wouldn't want to borrow it even if I could. I know how to shoot and could shoot if I needed to, but I'm not sure I'd really know when I needed to, you know?
Today I spent a bit of time poking around on the web, looking at paint sticks as an alternative to spray paints. The paint sticks I was looking at are ones with industrial uses, not artist-type paints. I want to call around to the hardware stores this weekend to see if they have the Markal Paintstiks, because I have determined they would be good for many purposes, and hello: cheap. There are also some paint sticks (different brand) which are used as livestock markers and look interesting; they would probably work well on canvas. Hello: cheaper. I like using things made for one purpose for another purpose--makes me feel like an innovator. Is it silly for a woman of my age to suddenly decide to try being an artist? Because if it is, I could care less. Look at Grandma Moses! I'm way younger than she was.
I slept so poorly last night--shallow sleep all night long, and frequent waking-ups--and when the alarm went off I was instantly thrown into a bad mood. Luckily Francisco suggested we take a walk this morning and go to the gym tomorrow morning, and the walk put me in a better mood. Then the Daily Show upped the mood a notch, so everything was better when I left for work. Still, I've got to sleep more and better tonight; this is my big plan. Clap-clap!
Nothing else to report.
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