Nope. This isn't some awesome art project.
Sorry to say.
This is what happens when you are in a hurry and you have guests coming and not enough time to tidy up. And you ask your mom, "will you just slide these in the oven?" And she says, "sure. but will you remember to take them out before you preheat next time?" and you in your infinite snarkiness say, "duh."
and then. you don't.
And then this is what your oven rack looks like.Want to know what happens next? You spend an hour crying. Part from frustration, but mostly from the fumes that have saturated every inch of your house and you swear your cat is going to die from toxic shock. Then you leave it for two weeks because looking at it will just make you want to give up on life.
But I tackled it this morning. With a paint scraper, a putty knife, a fan and the highest setting my oven has. It is back together and cleaner than it's been since it came to the house. But good Lord. Why do we do these things? I will tell you what, though. Never will there ever be an inch of plastic in the oven. The guests can just look at my dirty dishes.
I am completely obsessed with my garden. I have been working and pulling and hoeing and tilling until my arms hurt and I just want to fall asleep. I was sitting in the sun on my front porch, completely fascinated watching a pair of birds build a nest in my fern, when I started really looking at my seeds. They are such a beautiful array of colors. (I will admit I bought the big lima bean seeds there in the middle purely on the premises that it is beautiful and the pattern on it so perfect I couldn't stand the thought of not planting them.) It got me to thinking about the fact that what you put in is what you get out. That hard work will earn hard fought victories. That what you eat is what you become. That the beginning without a doubt will become an end. So, I took a picture of what's going into the ground before it gets covered in dirt and becomes beautiful green plants that I will eat the fruit off in mere months. My hard work and those cheering me on from the sidelines will indefinitely produce beautiful results. Also, it's just so much damn fun. You'll see more from my garden as soon as things start their sprouting. Until then, enjoy the beauty of the beginning.
My mom has always been such a force in my creative life. I think every creative girls says this. But really, it was my mom who painted. My mom who decorated our house growing up. My mom who kept saying, "why don't you just go to your room and paint?" (even though now, I think she was just trying to get me to stop talking.) Still into my twenty-seven years, she asks me what I've been working on. She calls when she's at the craft stores, just to make sure that I don't need anything. She'd give me anything to help me succeed. And not just in my creative endeavors, but in my crazy ideas I have for my life.
I've decided I need chickens. The bad part is, I live in a town that has an ordinance against keeping fowl within city limits. So, being the headstrong, determined girl that I am, I'm working on an appeal for my small town. A presentation on the positive side of turning over such an ordinance, what other cities have done, the processes of permits for chickens and so on. There's been a lot of research a lot of calling. Even a lady yelling at me about the ordinance that's already in place. But I'm determined. I think it could be a great change in my little town. And it will push me one step closer to self sufficiency. (and my ultimate dream of living on a farm. haha.)
My mom, in her infinite warmth, painted me this rooster the other day in her watercolor class. (Her paintings are beautiful. She never has the confidence to believe in herself. But she's absolutely amazing.) It's just another way she shows me her total support. I adore her. And my new rooster.