So, I totally expected to find the crumbly stubs of spent fireworks strewn all over the yard this morning, ’cause I’m always expecting obnoxious stuff like that, just like I’m always expecting the Sun to one day turn inside out or some errant wormhole to time-warp me back to when I was a bowling alley pinsetter (which would so suck). But, you know, instead of going out to get the mail and stepping on big piles of pitted cherrybombs or the shredded nosecones of paper missiles, all I discovered was just one charred rocket-butt wrapped in dewy cobwebs. So, now I have absolutely nothing to ramble on about…or, well, I guess I could talk about my abiding affection for Mr. Pibb, or the song stylings of Leonard Nimoy, or the word “jodhpurs.” The thing is, though, I’m kinda saving all that type of stuff for my book A Midnight Dreary, which will be a handy desk reference containing all my opinions, wishes, phobias, and pet peeves. So, anyway, at least you have something to look forward to, assuming you don’t already have tons of other stuff. Which you probably do, come to think of it.
Meanwhile, I uploaded some new junk onto Etsy. Mostly it’s just various creatures of various kinds, which seem to work way better as cut-outs than they do as pictures in frames, ’cause frames are often rectangular and require filling up lots of negative space with lots of nonsense, while cut-outs take care of their own negative space by using whatever’s around ‘em in the regular old environment. Or, something like that, anyhow. In any event, a few of the pictures need to get replaced, on account of some of ‘em are too dark or whatever, but I’ll work on that tomorrow, which I know you need to know, Internet.
