martinimade

Once upon a time, Lisa and Adrienne worked for the same alternative newsweekly. Now, both spend their respective days mining their creative souls and leading hermit-like lives. And so an idea was hatched. Every week, one would send the other a sketch - either in illustration or word form - and the other would make a companion sketch. The result would be posted on both their blogs every week, just for grins. Even if the result isn't award-worthy, the exercise might make both minds more nimble. Hopefully.

Text ©Adrienne Martini; illustration ©Lisa Horstman. Until the end of time. Or something.

* I kind of wish my university was sending out this story rather than the "ebola preparedness update" I just got. Which one is more likely to help our community? (And, um, the linked story is full of assault triggers, fyi.)

* All of this.

* My special place.

* "Stop asking me dumb questions, Wendi."

* The other mother.

* Oh, babies.

* What working at Metro Pulse was like, back in the day.

* Every kid is that kid.

* Dooce. I can't even.

* De-skilling the arts. I get the writer's ambivalence. CAD, etc, is remarkable. But there is something about knowing how to cut straight and drive nails.

* Free-range with no regrets.

* Michael Lewis on Billionaires.

* #4.

Over the weekend, this happened:

Lots of other things happened, too. It was a great trip and I met a metric ton of awesome mother runners. And that's a lot of mother runners, because they are, by nature, not terribly heavy. Most importantly, though, I paced Kelly for the first half of her marathon. 

The wonderful weekend more than makes up for how much I feel like someone worked me over with a pillowcase full of oranges last night. Getting around campus has been (and will continue to be) rather epic for this stiff and sore mother.

From The School Bulletin: A Monthly Journal for Teachers. May 1890:

(The story behind this -- I had occasion to look through the college's archives and found this gem of an article about SUNY Oneonta written by a roving education reporter in 1890.. It's full of wonderful tidbits like this one. Eventually, I'll get a scan of the whole thing and share more. You Have Been Warned.)

... but I do have this picture of Lucy. 

I'm told it is perfect for a meme. If you feel so moved, have at it.

Once upon a time, Lisa and Adrienne worked for the same alternative newsweekly. Now, both spend their respective days mining their creative souls and leading hermit-like lives. And so an idea was hatched. Every week, one would send the other a sketch - either in illustration or word form - and the other would make a companion sketch. The result would be posted on both their blogs every week, just for grins. Even if the result isn't award-worthy, the exercise might make both minds more nimble. Hopefully.

Son. How may times must we have this same conversation? You lick toads, not turtles. TOADS.

Besides, it’s a myth anyway. You can’t get high from toad licking. If you could, there’d be a serious black market for amphibians. Which there isn’t. 

Still, son. I’m begging you here. Don’t. Lick. The. Turtle. No good will come of it and we’ll all just feel silly afterwards.

Text ©Adrienne Martini; illustration ©Lisa Horstman. Until the end of time. Or something.

* Word.

* Oh, Mississippi. Past is present.

* Why everyone has cancer.

* Remember: white men fail upward.

* Project Buena Vista, which is also where the Tween just came back from.

* Hooray!

* Feast of My Heart.

* Can't die fast enough, imo.

* She does need a medal.

* Huh.

* I can't wait to see what comes next.

* United Airlines = the Republican Party.

* I would pay a lot more than $1 for salad in a vending machine.

So many of the projects -- both in my crafty life and life life -- are long term. I don't mind that, mostly, but sometimes you just need a quick little hit of something you can finish in less than a few days.

Next to the solar corgi is Chez Sucre Chez doily cross stitch pattern. It comes in a cute little kit with the hoop and everything. It's a breeze to stitch, as you'd imagine, and satisfying to finish. The kit come with four variations, too, and enough thread to work all four -- but I'd need to get more fabric, which might be a bridge too far. 

Still, I'm good with just the one because it's done. Done is what I wanted.

“Your problem is how you are going to spend this one and precious life you have been issued. Whether you're going to spend it trying to look good and creating the illusion that you have power over circumstances, or whether you are going to taste it, enjoy it and find out the truth about who you are.”

-- Anne Lamott.

And Martini Fridays is back! With a surprise!

Once upon a time, Lisa and Adrienne worked for the same alternative newsweekly. Now, both spend their respective days mining their creative souls and leading hermit-like lives. And so an idea was hatched. Every week, one would send the other a sketch - either in illustration or word form - and the other would make a companion sketch. The result would be posted on both their blogs every week, just for grins. Even if the result isn't award-worthy, the exercise might make both minds more nimble. Hopefully.

There is so much information nestled between the lines of an obit, so much heartbreak suggested by so few words: “predeceased by infant son,” say, or, “died alone at the Matilda Johnson Nursing Home.” And there’s joy, too. “Died peacefully.” “Survived by…” “Loved.” So many stories in those formulaic texts, a life both described and decanted. Still, I can’t help but envy Mr “died on a beach in Hawaii.” Inshallah.