Aardvark Art Glass


How sand gets into clam chowder
January 23, 2012, 1:00 pm
Filed under: Bloggidy Blog

I got sick again last week. I got my first post-treatment cold in late November. I didn’t mention it because, who cares, really? After being sick so much last year the anticipation of getting that first cold is harder to deal with than the cold itself. Then last week I caught a flu or something, got sick again and it really did not bother me. I figure my immune system is probably less than it should be and I’ll probably catch whatever is going around for a while. In short, I think I’m getting good at being sick. It used to really piss me off but now, not so much.

Anyway, what was unusual about this bout was that 1) It was kind of mean and 2) Don had the same thing at the same time so we got to stay at home together and watch daytime television. It was much better than being sick by myself. For one or more reasons, fever and large doses of Ny Quil among them but also because Don was there,  I was laughing my ass off about everything almost all of the time. The laughter triggered explosive bouts of coughing, followed by body spasms and raspy wheezing. I figured that whatever was so goddamn funny when I sick might prove useful later on so I kept a notebook by the couch and chronicled my brilliant narcotic ideas.

Well, that notebook idea turned out to be pure gold. I’m going to show you a little comic I drew that made me laugh so hard and so long that I coughed up absolutely everything that was in my lungs. Backstory: Food did not taste very good when I was sick so I wasn’t eating much-I subsisted for many days on Ny Quil and a large bag of sour gummy bears. Then on Wednesday or so Don made a can of Chunky Clam Chowder and I decided to share it with him. It was awful, and it made Don pine for the clam chowder at his place of employment which he claims is the best clam chowder around. “There’s always a little sand in it,” he said. We agreed that a bit of sand is a hallmark of great chowder, or at least one that contains real clams.

I asked him if he knew how the sand got into the chowder. He knew, but he seemed to want to hear my theory anyway so I drew the following cartoon:

The original drawing was almost illegible so I had to re-draw it on the computer. I think I’m almost done laughing at that, now.

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New year name and Foster got married
January 11, 2012, 12:53 pm
Filed under: Bloggidy Blog

WordPress sent me an end of year blogging summary the other day informing me that I wrote 17 posts in the past year. As they want me to continue my subscription, it was a very supportive email replete with virtual exploding fireworks and lots of detailed information about which posts were the most popular and who commented most frequently. (In case you’re wondering, Phil and Jean commented more than anyone and a post I wrote at least three years ago about Pop Tarts was the most viewed.) The staying power of Pop Tarts. Just a reminder that you never know what people are going to find interesting. Hopefully, I’ll top 17 posts this year and WordPress will be really proud of me.

But back to the New Year thing…last weekend at yet another party we picked a New Year name. Also at the party-this is news-my longtime pal Bob Foster married his longtime companion Margaret. Here’s a picture of Bob begging Margaret to come out of the bathroom:

And here’s a picture of the happy couple

As weddings and parties go, it was a good one. Don preformed the ceremony and I, as maid of honor, gave Margaret the option of either having T-Bone attend the ceremony or having dancing cigarette box attend the ceremony. She choose T-Bone. Who wouldn’t? I thought it would be a good idea, in lieu of a throw-able bouquet and also because no one else in the room had any interest in getting married, for Margaret to throw one of my old wigs to the waiting crowd behind her. So during the vow exchange I held a wig in one hand and a live hedgehog in the other. Later, when the wig was thrown, people scattered and it landed silently on the floor. Everyone applauded and that startled T-Bone who got all wiggly. I had to put him in his cage after that. Such was the wedding of Bob and Margaret.

After all that, while everyone was still around to put their two cents in, we decided that 2012 was going to be the year of Tuckin’ Yer Nuggets and Weathering the Storm. It’s good advice for any year, really.



Season’s Greetings
January 2, 2012, 4:43 pm
Filed under: Bloggidy Blog

As you may have noticed, I have become very comfortable with not writing the blog these days. Not that one activity excludes the other but I’ve been busy trying to make the store go which involves waiting for people to come in while farting around with things. Because I had that nifty port around, I learned about silver soldering. What I learned was it’s really hard to do well and also that I am chicken to solder actual silver. Missy has a lot of scrap copper so I cut out a hedgehog:

When I solder him to the brass I will have something. The thing about learning something new is you have to be proficient at a lot of different things in order to make something work, or at least be confident that you can do it again or fix it if you fuck it up at some point. So it’s intimidating, the metal work.

One thing I am pretty good at is stamping snarky things into copper:

 

I’ve found that the brilliant thoughts really start flowing and my stamping gets better after a cocktail or two. Is there a market for un- inspirational copper tags? Maybe well find out in 2012.

What else to show…in Nov. I spent about a day making pill bottle lights for around the front window:

That was the extent of my holiday decorating. There is a shop up the street that, to borrow a phrase from John Stewart, looks like the yule tide version of “Hoarders”.  I’m not a crab about the holidays, and that shop’s decorations are very pretty, but, because I am lazy and I’m short on storage space I tend toward hanging decorations that can stay up at least until Valentine’s Day, if not all year long.

Speaking of the year and everything, we had a very successful New Year’s party the other day. No one remembers for sure but I think last year, because I was sick and all, we broke with tradition and did not come up with a name for the New Year. The source of the confusion on this topic is the loss of the Grand Record of year names (a pizza box lid from 200o-something with a list of all the names on it). I don’t know…it might have gotten thrown out in one of the great junk purges of 2011, of which there were two. I can’t be expected to keep track of every box lid with writing on it. Anyway, because the tradition continues, I’ve re-constructed the list from past blog posts and also from memory. I’m putting it here where we can have it for reference without picking up a grimy piece of cardboard:

2006 The Year of No Consequences

2007 The Year of the Apocalopse

2008 Year of Curbing Your Inner Dumbass

2009 Year of Blessed Traps

2010 Year of Miracles of Little Consequence

2011 ?

Now that I think about it, 2011 might have been the Year of Polishing the Turd. That sounds familiar to me, though that might be because it is one of the phrases I stamped into copper the other day. Hmmm. Anyway, a by-product of Saturday’s festivities is a long list of names for 2012 from which we have to pick one and then get on with our lives. We’ll probably do that next weekend, so I might have that to post, at least.