Selkie

I WISH I'd seen that Dremel kit before I butchered three pumpkins. I even considered using my regular Dremel tool on them, but decided the resulting mess wouldn't be worth the effort. Then again, if I'd had the Dremel, I might have missed the pleasure of stabbing and disemboweling the pumpkins with a large carving knife. Those pumpkins provided some great cathartic value.

 

I've gone hog wild for Halloween this year. In addition to the pumpkins, the front of my house is festooned with:

 

Rubber snakes, rats, and lizards (some of which are emerging from the pumpkins' orifices)

 

A grave marker with a black dead rose "growing" out of the grave

 

Bats flying out of the front door, and another flying over the hanging pots of live orange, red, and yellow flowers

 

Snakes wrapped around the solstice wreath (that we leave out all year regardless)

 

A large wooden bear presiding over a cauldron full of lumpy decorative squash with a rubber snake crawling out.

 

But best of all, "Count Bob" joined the display yesterday. Bob is a six foot high grotesque Dracula/ghoul, fully dressed in the de rigeur black clothing, boots, and red cape, and has battery operated light-up red eyes. Words can not even begin to describe how cool Bob is, so I'll try to get a picture tomorrow. I don't dare leave Bob outside, but he'll probably be waiting for visitors on Halloween, visible through our full length glass door.

Many thanks for all the support, guys. I really appreciate it.

 

Unfortunately, the hits just keep on coming. As I feared, I had to put my 13 year old greyhound down today. There's a huge hole in my heart tonight, and I'm starting to wonder how much misery one person can handle.

Maddi, are you sure Lee isn't Dmitri? Just a thought from an overly suspicious mind.

Because Charlie K asked

 

OK, this post was originally way too long and contained way TMI. So it boils down to this:

 

I've been ignored, mistreated, and dismissed by most of the medical community for nine long years. I finally found a doctor who was willing to listen with an open mind, and although I'm technically on the road to recovery there's a less than comfortable future awaiting me, especially in the short term. The disease won't kill me, but the drugs could., and the physical therapy to (hopefully) reverse nin years' worth of debilitation is not something I look forward to enduring.

 

I lost that dream job due to my health issues.

 

Two of my three elderly greyhounds are in less than great shape, and one of them may have to be euthanised tomorrow.

 

On the plus side, the problems with my hands have been more or less resolved, so now I have the dangerous combination of typing ability and too much time on my hands with which to bug you guys. Be very afraid! :icon_lol:

Selkie, where you been!

 

<hijack>

 

Well, on second thought ....

 

That's a topic for another thread, 'cuz while I don't mind hijacking one that's gone astray, I hate hijacking a happy thread with an unhappy one ...

 

</hijack>

The smell of porcelain slip after I've just cracked open a new bucket

 

Warm plaster

 

Stroking the bottoms of my greyhounds' paws

 

Identifying some fabulous antique that another dealer has completely failed to recognize the significance of. It's not even about the money, it's about the intellectual stimulation. (Yes, Christian, I most definitely know what Wade Red Rose Tea premiums are.).

If Starman had officially ended at #45, it would have won this poll for me, hands down. Loved the series, loved the art, loved pretty much everything about it until the disasterous, overlong trip into space, followed by the "WTF happened to this series" bit with the evil dwarf.

 

So, I'm going to have to go with the first 24 issues of Brubaker's Catwoman. (There are no issues numbered 25 and above, got it) Sad, sweet, action-packed, and occasionally violent in mature ways more suited to Vertigo than a mainstream Batbook, this series had it all.

 

A few other contenders who lived fast and died young:

 

Chronos

 

Chase

 

Vext