What Became of Me

Usually I just write about art, but today I make an exception.  I haven’t posted anything in a while.  I was so deeply involved in my painting that I couldn’t be bothered to write on the internet, couldn’t be bothered to eat or sleep, didn’t speak to my family or bother feeding the hamsters — no, I was just a mad genius driven and compelled to push the edges of the envelope with my great, brilliant, genius work.  For those of you who are skeptical of that explanation, may I say the “hamster ate my homework”?  Hey, she was hungry!

Actually, I spent a lovely idyll being really, really close to Nature.  Indeed, I was never much more than another shovel-full away from her for — oh, just the longest time.  Well, before that — I mean, before I was shovel-close, I was crate close.  My first shovel was an orange crate.  My car as you see her pictured above was shoveled out with this finely hewn tool pictured below.  (I also used a yellow plastic wiffle-ball bat to knock the snow off those hard-to-reach places).  (Hat tip and thanks Ben for the offer of a shovel but I was able to find one in this country.  You must have ESP!)

Later, I was rescued and obtained a real shovel (not pictured).  But all this pertains to our first snow.  We were still innocent then.  All told, I hear from Washington DC’s Mayor Fenty that the region got 60 inches.  All those folks around the country who like to brag about how they deal with tough weather, all those who laugh at snow, ought to come here and find out what a real winter is like!

Sometimes it just gets to be too much.  Sometimes this happens.

Hey, I offered the guy my orange crate.  Signing off, from the Global Warming Capital of the planet, Aletha.

(Need to deal with this sinus infection now.  Ben, I’ve got Vick’s Vaporub, but I could sure use some tea. Of course, you probably already knew that!)