Conversation

I couldn't have been less permeable, when I'd hear my mother say to my father...."Well, that's fine, but you GO to work..... I wake up and my work surrounds me..."

I get it now.

Mornings when I am still and quiet, my work surrounds me. It's partly by chance. My current work, in it's various stages, sits on the mantel directly in my line of vision. I put it there to keep it away from curious noses and paws, but the unintended prize is the realization that it's constant presence keeps the conversation alive, even when I am distracted.

It is always there.

"My arms are wrong."

"You didn't make me very interesting"

"This is what my head needs to look like"

"This is a great dress, but it doesn't fit."

"What was your intention, when you gave me two heads?"

"How come I only have one head?"

"You did a good job on these wire thingies"

"Fix me"

"Fix me"

"Fix me"

Is this a face....?

Introducing Habit, she goes by her middle name (first name bad), the newest member of our country family. She had been living next door and D took her in to get her spayed to keep the population in the neighborhood somewhere near manageable (and of course she was in heat). Sooooo.... she has been living in our playroom to rest, recover and quit arousing all the boys in the area.

What can I say... we grew accustomed to her face.

And what a face...