Sitting in a bright spot of sunshine hoping it would bolster their moods. I spent the day running up and down the stairs, doing laundry, carting it from pantry to dressing room, vacuuming, sharking, forgetting what I went into a room for and then backtracking to remember.
It was not a funny episode of Dog's Landing.
Zali half-heartedly played with a toy, but abandoned it when I started to steam clean the stainless steel in the kitchen. Simone, indignant with my behavior, sulked beside him.
But the good news is that we are free to do whatever our hearts desire! I believe I will paint in the studio while they chase butterflies in the garden. Perhaps I'll weed in the morning while they nap by the pool. The world is ours! The wait is over.
Tomorrow, tomorrow! I love ya', tomorrow. You're only an evening away!
Springing up around Memphis, car washes are closing off bays so you can wash your dog. At the Jolly Wash near Bartlett, six bucks buys your stinky pal a shampoo (anti-flea, conditioning, etc.) and a blow dry. You can even vacuum him.
Arnie would have loved that. That rabbit's best friend was the Dyson.
Zali and Simone? Not as much. I don't hose down the kids very often. I think it strips their fur of the natural oils they need. I know it's counter-intuitive, but they smell less doggy, too.
Zali expressing his dislike. Phhhhtttt.
The time had come. Zali's ruff was crunchy. His design flaws had unknown bits of debris stuck to them. He was, well, yucky.
I hate you. You are a mean bad muhzer fuzzer.
Won't you help Zali, Fahzur?
Great. Now I'll have to collect new crap to steek in my fur. I hate zees steenky clean smell.
Simone pads nervously around the bathroom while I bathe Monsieur Crunchypants.
Simone's sadness crushed my soul.
But I hosed her down anyway. Truth be told, she wasn't even stinky or crusty or any of the other dwarfs.
She finally stopped cursing and we struck a deal for her release.
She and Zali sprayed the walls with their violent shaking. I know why people find taking their pets to the car wash so appealing. If we bathed Zoe in there, we'd have to contact FEMA for the flood damage.
My favorite part of the whole show. Simone and Zali burst from the bathroom door. Simone's books for the bedroom, leaps onto the bed, scooting her face along the covers to dry. She'll jump down, race about the upstairs, through the bathroom, into the office, down the length of the rug and fly back onto the bed until she collapses in a satisfied heap.
Why is it that they always smell worse after a bath? They reek of soggy wet fur for hours. Sometimes, I think it would be better just to let them stay like they were.
Yesterday, in between waiting for the layers of paint to dry in the studio, I weeded the herb beds. I also did some pool chores. It's been so steamy around here lately that it feels as if I'm constantly replenishing the pool. I bent over to put some chlorine tablets in the skimmer and that's when I threw my back out.
So I've spent the last day and a half go through the trash in search of it. *rim shot*
But seriously, I've been in bed or on the couch all this time, watching the Real Housewives of Something or Another marathons and dishing out comments in other people's blogs.
When I threw out my back, I must have lost my mind.
I woke up this morning, stiff and happy it wasn't the 1800s or somebody would have called the doc by now and he'd be sticking leeches to my posterior.
Two, actually. And I am not ashamed to admit it. They were delicious. I cut the tops off of fairy tale globes and scooped out the insides, stuffed them full of garlic-y turkey bolognese sauce. Baked in a frog shaped clay dish, I served them with aside of penne and Romano cheese.
And I'd do it again. They were delicious. I wager that if they had known they would be so tasty, they would have prepared themselves for my lunch.
This isn't the frog baker. It's an opossum effigy bowl made by indigenous Indians Hud and I saw at the Pink
Palace last Sunday. Cute, huh?
I wish all of my baking dishes resembled animals. I own frog, pig and chicken bakers, a pig molcajete and a Oaxacan fish salsa. This one is an owl. Heeeeee.
I wonder if I might have some Quapaw in my lineage.
This is a cat serpent bowl. They were the chupacabra of the Quapaw. It's how they got their children to eat their vegetables and do their homework.
I will have to draw the line at human dish ware. Having my oatmeal out of the open skull of a random head is unappetizing somehow.
Zali didn't get an omelet this morning. He says he's packing a bandanna on a stick and leaving to join the circus.
I told him there's a precedent in the family for it. My maternal grandfather left home at thirteen and joined a traveling roller skating show. That's almost the circus. Well, except that there aren't any clowns, so what would they do with him?
He's pouting on the giant dog bed in the office.
Hud and I are trying to get out in our town more since he said, "I wish somebody would come visit so we could go see the Stax Museum." I shot him my best RCA dog head and responded that he should get in the car. I mean, what were we waiting for?
This past weekend, we traveled over to the Memphis State area to visit Clarence Saunder's old digs. He built it out of the moolah he scored creating the first grocery store, Piggly Wiggly. It's called the Pink Palace. Clarence really raked it in. It's built of pink Ashlar. Hence the name.
One of my favorite exhibits in the museum is the Clyde Park Miniature Circus automaton. It's a twenty five foot spectacle of every aspect of a circus. Ninety-eight percent of it is animated.
Clyde lost his job in the Great Depression. To make good use of all the extra time on his hands, he started carving. 1500 people. Countless moving animals. Exotic parade floats. Carny side show booths.
It took him thirty years to complete. Mostly working eighteen hours a day.
And I spent yesterday regaling you with my six week project regarding the repair and decoration of my office. I am a slacker.
Look Zali! I found your tent. It's full of animals... No wait. That's mine.
You belong in the big top.
*In 1970, Clyde Park donated his masterpiece to the Pink Palace. He thought it was selfish to keep it to himself. He wanted kids and adults alike to understand his wonder at the Greatest Show on Earth.
Repairing and reupholstering the office is what I've been doing! Not lounging and snoozing like the Pappies. Exhibit A:
Simone, Zali, the Doppleganger and a random snake toy foozing it up on the newly covered dog bed. Under a silk screen with hand painted sparrows and quails from China. I know. Who knew there would be an animal theme? Next to the china cabinet Hud's mother gifted us some years ago that Hud displays vintage camera gear. I keep my Boris and Natasha bobbleheads in there for fun as well. Just in case you were thinking that I only have a fetish for animals.
Going waaaayyyy outside of my comfort zone, I chose to color the walls a deep saturated blue. Normally, I lean towards shades of food --greens, melons, red. Lots of red. It's Hud's favorite hue, too, so we've got our money's worth of red at the Hudarosa. The railroad desk on the left is where I paint ceramics. Ruby's by the window. She matches the drapes now. Her green, yellow and blue ensemble with a bright red cap are the perfect compliment. Yes, I got the fabric because it matches my finch. Shut up. Don't pretend you're surprised. A Bert Sharpe concrete wall sculpture is resting on top of the mantle. I'm too chicken (!) to hang it anywhere.
Yes, the furniture in this room is standing at attention around the walls. This is not only my office, but the Romper Room. It is generally littered with toys. The middle of the room is clear in case some dog breaks out into spontaneous wrestling.
Way to rock out the fooze, Simone.
My computer desk, a tiger oak trundle table from the turn of last century, is home to the Hammies. I like to watch them while I work. Sometimes, when my lap is not full of cat, it is being perched upon by a tiny little dude. The budgies are constantly squawking loudly in the aquarium behind me. Floyd cannot get enough of the sound of his own voice. Mozelle and I however, have had plenty.
I should have taken a shot of the fabric graphics. The red *surprise* background has frolicking lions and monkeys. I know. Animals. Shocking.
And that is what the Furry Godmother has been up to so far this summer. Maybe now that's complete, I can find some time to get out of this room and into the studio.