Taking up ironing

I don't know about your part of the country, but where I grew up in the Midwest, brightly painted wooden yard ornaments were a common sight. They always showed a woman's bum.

Whether they are outdated or it's just that our town's strict planning commission won't allow such signage, I don't know, but I haven't seen one of those cutouts for years.

That's exactly what I felt like when Steve and I were cleaning up our section of the local bike path. He mowed, I pulled weeds.

I was getting dizzy from the heat and leaning over, but I knew that if I actually got down on my hands and knees it would take a crane to turn me right side up again.

After a quick lie-down back home, I flipped on the Supreme Court nomination proceedings and set up my ironing board. I used to loathe ironing, but it doesn't seem so bad these days. I love the metaphor -- smoothing out life's wrinkles -- and watching order being restored.



I'm still behind in my posting, but here are a couple of quick pages I drew last week when dogs were everywhere. (Remember, I had five that week.)



The girls' group was so much fun this afternoon. They are loving their new art journals and like to add pages.

They can't actually have them until they leave Juvenile Hall (contraband, contraband), but most of the girls are planning to ask for them when they're going to the "outs" and a few said they are certain they will add additional pages once they move on.

I so very much hope so!