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Honey Badger Don't Give a Shit
1.
There's an interesting phenom going on of very, very chic-ass shelter blog girls performing authenticity, of a kind, while photographing their perfectly-styled anthropologie houses and projects. I think they're so hot. They're way slicker and chic-er and street-er than the shelter blog aggregation sites, where bloodless vampire aggregation stylists just trawl the nets for other peoples' pictures.
http://brooklyntowest.blogspot.com/
http://emersonmerrick.blogspot.com/
http://sixorangecarrots.wordpress.com/
2.
Also Dasha Shishkin, this Bushwick Russian painter chick from Vogue magazine -- yes, if you can make it there, you make it anywhere! -- and this midnight in the garden of Southern gothic honey badger chick from etsy, Jen Ray, who takes the Alabama Chanin white trash boho Blue Bayou thing I dote upon one step farther.
You do know Randall's interesting clip on the honey badger, yes? I wish somebody would do a book on what hip young people learn by watching Nature:
Here is Jen Ray's iconographic take:
http://www.etsy.com/listing/72562556/get-away-from-me-honey-badger-series
3.
I am becoming human again, after nearly 20 years of superhuman hypervigilance. Something scary scares me and makes me tired, as opposed to being something I have to face and get through and ignore while I face another one.
Scary medical appointment of a quotidian nature gotten through with actual fear and also grit yesterday; patent has run out on scary medication meaning generic works good for like $80 less a month. I nearly got tears in my eyes at the pharma and blurted, This means I can buy new clothes. I need to get rid of that mentality, didn't know I had it.
4.
Being bitten perhaps 40 times by big honkin' red ants while sifting soil excavated by industrious young E did not frighten me.
The fiery pain from ankles to hips went away almost the minute I asked it to.
We piled the soil from the flower bed trench E dug on top of five anthills. Within two days, not only had they colonized the pile, they claimed it for their own so insistently they freaked when I started shovelling the soil into my new soil sifter to sift in back into the trench.
These piles of $oil, amended with purcha$ed compo$t from $oilutions, disappeared back into their gopher-proofed trench just after this pic was shot. The ant-infested pile I'm sifting back into the west trench is in the left foreground, with what I'm sifting out of it to the right.
5.
I am making a compost lasagna in the trench, consisting of lawn cuttings (8 inches), free South Valley ranchito horse manure (1/2 inch), and seriously crappy gravel-filled, hand-sifted, Rancho Atomico soil (2 inches, lightly watered), which hopefully will have turned into compo$t by fall, when we install landscape shrubs (Pee Gee hydrangea tree, sand cherry, and...elderberry?) on the rear west wall.
6.
I love the smell of wire cutters in the morning.
7.
Some long-ignored areas of my life are being amended. Perhaps with manure. I am reminded of the profile in the New Yorker of the man whose vision was restored after years of blindness.
It made him motion sick.
I need to focus very quietly and carefully on this.
8.
Did I mention when E and I travelled to Martine's ranchito in the South Valley to excavate free manure, which E, a city boy, had never seen before, I wore flip flops (did you expect less) and swallowed a bug?
Gopher-proofing the flower beds. Plastic bin full of free South Valley horse manure. Chicken wire for gopher-proofing spread out on the ground to the left.
9.
On no account must the Apache plume and other native desert plants with which I intend to under plant it (pink penstemon, prairie clover and globe mallow/sore eye poppy) come in contact with the amended soil. Nutrition and water would kill them.
Wild snapdragon, penstemon palmieri.
Sphaeralcea monroana.
Dalea purpureum.
Apache plume.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/alanenglish/2500171902/
10.
For dinner last night I had mango sorbet and honey-Dijon-flavored almonds from Walgreen's, where I went to get AfterBite.
It's worthless for ant bites.
There's an interesting phenom going on of very, very chic-ass shelter blog girls performing authenticity, of a kind, while photographing their perfectly-styled anthropologie houses and projects. I think they're so hot. They're way slicker and chic-er and street-er than the shelter blog aggregation sites, where bloodless vampire aggregation stylists just trawl the nets for other peoples' pictures.
http://brooklyntowest.blogspot.com/
http://emersonmerrick.blogspot.com/
http://sixorangecarrots.wordpress.com/
2.
Also Dasha Shishkin, this Bushwick Russian painter chick from Vogue magazine -- yes, if you can make it there, you make it anywhere! -- and this midnight in the garden of Southern gothic honey badger chick from etsy, Jen Ray, who takes the Alabama Chanin white trash boho Blue Bayou thing I dote upon one step farther.
You do know Randall's interesting clip on the honey badger, yes? I wish somebody would do a book on what hip young people learn by watching Nature:
Here is Jen Ray's iconographic take:
http://www.etsy.com/listing/72562556/get-away-from-me-honey-badger-series
3.
I am becoming human again, after nearly 20 years of superhuman hypervigilance. Something scary scares me and makes me tired, as opposed to being something I have to face and get through and ignore while I face another one.
Scary medical appointment of a quotidian nature gotten through with actual fear and also grit yesterday; patent has run out on scary medication meaning generic works good for like $80 less a month. I nearly got tears in my eyes at the pharma and blurted, This means I can buy new clothes. I need to get rid of that mentality, didn't know I had it.
4.
Being bitten perhaps 40 times by big honkin' red ants while sifting soil excavated by industrious young E did not frighten me.
The fiery pain from ankles to hips went away almost the minute I asked it to.
We piled the soil from the flower bed trench E dug on top of five anthills. Within two days, not only had they colonized the pile, they claimed it for their own so insistently they freaked when I started shovelling the soil into my new soil sifter to sift in back into the trench.
These piles of $oil, amended with purcha$ed compo$t from $oilutions, disappeared back into their gopher-proofed trench just after this pic was shot. The ant-infested pile I'm sifting back into the west trench is in the left foreground, with what I'm sifting out of it to the right.
5.
I am making a compost lasagna in the trench, consisting of lawn cuttings (8 inches), free South Valley ranchito horse manure (1/2 inch), and seriously crappy gravel-filled, hand-sifted, Rancho Atomico soil (2 inches, lightly watered), which hopefully will have turned into compo$t by fall, when we install landscape shrubs (Pee Gee hydrangea tree, sand cherry, and...elderberry?) on the rear west wall.
6.
I love the smell of wire cutters in the morning.
7.
Some long-ignored areas of my life are being amended. Perhaps with manure. I am reminded of the profile in the New Yorker of the man whose vision was restored after years of blindness.
It made him motion sick.
I need to focus very quietly and carefully on this.
8.
Did I mention when E and I travelled to Martine's ranchito in the South Valley to excavate free manure, which E, a city boy, had never seen before, I wore flip flops (did you expect less) and swallowed a bug?
Gopher-proofing the flower beds. Plastic bin full of free South Valley horse manure. Chicken wire for gopher-proofing spread out on the ground to the left.
9.
On no account must the Apache plume and other native desert plants with which I intend to under plant it (pink penstemon, prairie clover and globe mallow/sore eye poppy) come in contact with the amended soil. Nutrition and water would kill them.
Wild snapdragon, penstemon palmieri.
Sphaeralcea monroana.
Dalea purpureum.
Apache plume.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/alanenglish/2500171902/
10.
For dinner last night I had mango sorbet and honey-Dijon-flavored almonds from Walgreen's, where I went to get AfterBite.
It's worthless for ant bites.
no subject
For some reason it doesn't work as well if you pulp it any other way. I don't know why but I've tried it and it just doesn't.
Go team horseshit. I'm for it.
no subject
i'm also going to put on knee high wellies over tights next time i attack the ant condo. instead of, you know, hot pants and flip flops.
what a cluck, bawk BAWK.