packed

September 30, 2008

Alpaca and pachyderm packed themselves into a Packard and proceeded to Pakistan.

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The Illustration Friday theme this week is “Packed,” and once again, I went with the obvious choice.

Thanks to my good friend Alexis for coming up with most of this alliteration. It was fun, tee hee!

If her clothes didn’t end up severely stretched out and reeking of wet dog, Sheila Sheepington-Fleecewater would probably have less of a problem with the wolf borrowing them.

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It’s been a while, so thought it was high time to do an animal idiom.

One uses this saying to describe someone or something that seems to be good but is actually bad. There seems to be a few different ideas about it’s origin, but here is what Wikipedia has to say about it.

fidget monster

May 27, 2008

Perhaps it’s because I have a snatchkee in a jar, a sneezle locked in the bathroom, a fretopus lodged in my throat and a furballoid running amok somewhere in my house, that I am having trouble concentrating today. My inability to concentrate became especially acute at work, during the afternoon budget meeting. I was terribly distracted and could not sit still for a second. Like a small child in church, I twitched, squirmed and fidgeted, while my boss and co-workers eyed me suspiciously… and really, who could blame them? I must have looked foolish.

I would have continued to blame my fidgety affliction on the stress of last week’s, monster-related events, had I not seen with my own eyes the true culprit. While I jerked, writhed, fiddled and pretended to take down notes, I noticed from the corner of my eye, in the mirror hanging on the wall near my desk, the unsettling shape of a figetus squirmelis, bouncing like a spring, on top of my head.

Oddly, no one else seemed to notice the creature tormenting me, only the effects . So during a lull in the conversation, I seized the moment. Excusing myself from the meeting, I raced out the door and bounded down the stairs to the parking garage. I scrambled to my car, squirmelis in tow and clumsily opened the door. Somehow, I was able to flick the agitated fidget monster from my head and into the back seat and slammed the door.

“Hooo boy,” I thought to myself, “the drive home is going to be interesting. I hope figetus squirmelises like listening to NPR.”

…and bears, oh my!

March 10, 2008

EARLY RISERS

bear450_2.jpg

Conversation, last night, after arriving at Sequoia National Park’s Wuksachi Lodge.

Linda: “Did we get all the food out of the trunk? I don’t want to wake up to bears raiding our car.”

Tom: “Yes, we got it all.”

Linda: “Are you sure? Because bears can smell any little thing. Even gum.”

Tom: “I think we’ll be fine honey.”

Linda: “Wait, there are some vitamin waters left in the cooler.”

Tom (slightly less patient): “It’ll be fine.”

Linda (becoming slightly shrill): “Bears can smell through plastic. Rangers told me that once.”

Tom: Wait a minute, it’s winter. Aren’t bears supposed to hybernate in winter?”

Linda: OH YEAH! Hee hee. That’s right… whew.

Linda: “You know there may be some early risers.”

Tom: “Bring the vitamin waters in.”

can you hear meow?

January 16, 2008

canyouhearmeow.jpg

KITTY SNIT

My cat is annoyed,
turned his back to avoid,
with not so much as meow.

His one ear turns back,
as I pour out his snack.
Hello, can you hear me now?

I wan’t my llama

October 21, 2007

llama2.jpg

Some words I never thought I’d hear: “This is where I purchased my llama. You should call them when you are ready to buy.”

We were in Silverton, Oregon today, at the suggestion of our friends Tim and Paul. They thought we might consider it a possible place to move to when the time is right. When we got there, we found Silverton to be, not only reasonably close to the urban and cool downtown Portland, but also unbelievably quaint, artsy and friendly. The best of both worlds. It is nestled in a fairly rural part of Oregon, and is complete with rolling hills, groves and groves of pine trees, sheep, goats, horses, cows, and llamas. Yes, you heard me, llamas.

Why are llamas part of the Oregon landscape, you ask? Well, the story we heard, from a lovely woman we met in a small art gallery in town, is that llamas are the next best thing to a guard dog for protecting your livestock from coyotes. She told us this story after we half jokingly mentioned it was our dream to move to Oregon and raise llamas.

Apparently one of her and her husband’s goats (goats? who are these people?) one of their goats was attacked by a dog or coyote. (Not to worry, the goat survived and is resting comfortably). They hated the idea of getting a mean old guard dog but figured they had to do something to protect their animals. After some reasearch they found that llamas, although not aggressive animals, are quite intimidating to the likes of coyotes. The llamas become quite attached to their goat friends and if a coyote decides to make trouble, the llamas just run it right off their property, tail between it’s legs.

Hearing about the darker side of the gentle llama left Tom and I fascinated and amused. I might also mention that the woman telling the story was an attractive older woman, somewhere in her late 50’s or early 60’s, yet she had a youthful, almost beatific glow to her. We figured it to be euphoria caused by living in such glorious surroundings, not the least of which being trees, art galleries and llamas.

After our conversation, Tom and I continued browsing around the gallery, taking in some of the local artwork. When we finally got to the counter to purchase some trinkets, the glowy llama owner handed me a piece of paper with the number of her llama dealer.

“When your ready.” She winked at me with knowing look.