Day 503: Are You Looking at my Bum??
If the title seems a little provocative to you, picture it with an adorable little British accent spoken by a young Mike Myers acting even younger and sitting in a bathtub. I was reminded of that as I was prompted to write the title for today's entry, because I've been draw'ring all day.
It's going well, I think. I certainly knocked out my first official panel cartoon today, based on the characters I posted a couple days ago; though the initial little sketch today involved the Munk character; crazy cave-paint man, and his friend -who's name is still TBD. No J&B. The joke was based on a joke I used to do onstage and seemed like as good a place as any to dig into this little project and get the proverbial ball rolling. I will likely be posting it tomorrow so I won't bother to tell you what it entails. Suffice it to say I am reasonably happy with the cartoon itself, even if it doesn't at all fit in with the planned story line of the strip in any way shape or form.
Cartoons are like jokes, at first they're not very funny and they don't go with anything, but if you beat it with an anvil hard enough, and long enough, it'll eventually chisel itself down into a useful form. Note: never get me to use tools on your behalf. As you can see, when I call to my brain for information in order to make a comparison I invariably am given random names of tool sounding objects. Thus: chiseling with an anvil.
I promise to get my shit together some day...:)
In other day related news, I just put Blaze to bed for the third night in a row and it was easy.. as.. pie. I came back in from walking Hubble -the canine tick magnet- and scooped him up from his mothers arms, grabbed a bottle, and sat him down in the rocking chair in his room. As he squirmed in my arms, knowing damn well what was to come, watching helplessly as his mother set up his room for the night, I just held firm and waited for her to get out. He's useless to me while she's still in the room.
As soon as she closed the door and left his arms went limp. I could almost feel the resignation in his limbs. "So wait, mom's gone?? It's just you and me?? Okay fine, I suppose I'd rather sleep." Like I bore him into unconsciousness or something!
At that point I plopped the bottle in his mouth, he sucked it dry, I plopped the soother in his mouth, he spit it out -on account of the fact he can't breath through his nose much- and then as I sat waiting for the milk to settle in his gut meat he fell asleep in my arms. 20 minutes later I lowered him into the crib and there he still lays, on the monitor next to my computer. Out like a light.
I'm getting too good at this!
He even slept last night, praise Jesus. Sure he woke up at 7am and then was pulled into the bed with me where he proceeded to roll around and kick and punch and sleep and scream and every other conceivable variation of movements and behaviours, over the course of the next three hours. But the important thing is that Jeannette and Amy slept... wait. What?? What a rip!
If you're wondering about the wood situation and where we stand with that, and I have no doubt you are, then I can at least inform you that our intrepid french woodsman was by today and was sawing it all up like a champ. One more day and that big pile next to my driveway will be all chopped up and ready to be split. The splitting part will happen just as soon as my cousin fixes the gas leak in his tractor. Everything hinges on something guys. It's just how life works.
We just got back in from a little jaunt out to Tim Hortons. I was a bit of a princess after dinner and was craving a dirty, rotten, cafe mocha.. about the sweetest drink you can buy.. and Jeannette enabled me by suggesting we all drive down. This allowed us to go to the bank as well, so you know.. multi-tasking! And we also stopped by Amy's place so she could pick up some supplies. It's a little like we've just kidnapped her. Everyone seems reasonably okay with it because it's all gone down real friendly like.. but I think Jeannette is just easing her away from society.
In fact, it occurred to me today that she might just be too polite to tell us she wants to go home. It's entirely possible that we're holding her against her will.. in the most non-confrontational way possible. Grim!
You can bet I'm not going to say anything though. Nope. Until the cops show up or she suddenly punches me in the face and runs for the door ol' daddy here is quite happy to keep things status quo. What can I say? Blaze loves her. Jeannette also enjoys the company, while my face is buried in either a book, my computer, or my own brain, so she's been great to have around for that as well. She's a reader this one, and a writer, so her and I have had some good conversations about that. It's just a shame that school has to start up again in September.
A shame for Amy I mean, that she'll miss out on her last year and not graduate because she'll be here, chained to the radiator, and with baby number two having arrived by then, we'll be too desperate to do what's right and let her finish her education. But don't start writing me angry letters or anything, I promise I'll home school her myself. Let's see... history... language arts...
Perhaps I'll start with wood shop; anvil chiseling 101.
I think that'll put us in good shape.
Tomorrow the nonsense continues.