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As planning begins for the next Blogathon here in Austin, Texas, I’m struck by the fact that my blogging has been so inconsistent. That being the case, I have to ask myself why I’d want to hold another BlogathonATX (Video compliments of Amanda Quraishi). I’m beyond thinking I’ll actually use that time “catch up” on my writing—it’s sort of like “finishing” my to-do list. Not gonna happen. So what’s my rationale for organizing an event that revolves around writing, when I myself am not much of a writer? I think it’s because I so desperately want to be a writer. I love the idea of writing and I’m an optimist. (That, and I believe in osmosis.) My good friend, Tom Myer, will probably have a lot of unflattering things to say about this statement, and I eagerly await his reply. In the meantime I’m sticking to my guns because the more writers I hang around, the more admiration/inspiration/guilt I feel, and that’s gotta be worth something, right? Right?
Read MoreFarmer Weenie discusses plants and dirt. She’s even sexier in person…
Read MoreThe term “passion” is one of those trendy words that’s been rubbing me the wrong way lately. It’s now practically expected that we feel passion for our work. Really? So I’m supposed to feel ashamed if I don’t leap out of bed each morning before the sun like some twisted Disney character who sings of brochures and annual reports while woodland creatures help me dress and start up the computer? Really? Books tell me I should find my passion and do that for a living, which begs the question: How do I get paid to sit on the couch and eat ice cream sandwiches? In my opinion the field of graphic design has virtually nothing to do with passion—unless one’s passion involves agonizing over the space between two letters and whether a sans serif typeface can appropriately carry the weight of the subject matter— in which case we have a much larger issue at hand. To say I have a passion for graphic design is like saying I have a passion for breathing or for my heart beating. I won’t go so far as to say it’s necessary for my survival, but it’s become a nearly involuntary action. I simply…
Read MoreIn a shocking turn of events, things have started growing at Farmer Weenie’s homestead. Panicking, she heads to the bible of gardening, Wikipedia, to find out what to do next. All that does is confuse the Weenie even more, so she reaches out to her secret weapon in the great white north. Dear friend and fellow farmer Kirsten Bartel owns Seed and Bean Garden Design in Edmonton, Canada, where they have things like snow and health insurance. Hopes are high that she will put down her shovel or knitting or delicious pot of soup she’s cooking (overachiever much?) to answer this question… ??? If you are having trouble viewing this fascinating video, click here to watch it on YouTube.
Read MoreSo I decided to become a farmer the other day. Never mind the fact that the closest I’ve come to farming is the science project I’ve got going on in my refrigerator. I have that dangerous combination of determination, passion and ignorance often found in trailblazers like myself (and borderline personalities). Determined to start this farming lifestyle as soon as possible, I headed over to the home improvement store to gather supplies. A nice young man in an orange apron approached, at which point I became the worst part of his day. A mere two and a half hours later, I was on my way home with a pile of items ill-suited to an uncoordinated graphic designer with a distaste for manual labor and sunlight. Who are you calling a hoe? Once home, I changed into a cute farming outfit, filled up my water bottle and headed outside. The plan was to build a wooden square, put dirt in it and wait for the bounty. While the plan took a bit of a detour that involved some flailing about and a near leg-gouging, the result was just as I’d expected—Mr. Weenie built the box for me, hauled it out of…
Read MoreI began this post a few weeks ago, but it took a while for me to finish it. I guess I wasn’t ready. I’m still not. _______________________________ There are good days, there are bad days, and then there was today. This morning around 4:00 am, Wally the Poodle lay down on the floor next to my husband and died. I received the message from 1500 miles away. _______________________________ We didn’t know much about this strange looking animal when he came to live with Bill and me almost five years ago. I’d been toying with the idea of getting a dog but was terrified of taking care of another living creature ever since the great turtle debacle of 2003. A friend encouraged me to check out a rescue group, so I went online, and that’s where I met the love of my life—a stinky little poodle named Wally. Wally had been removed from a trailer where he lived confined to a 10′ x 10′ room with 27 other dogs for years. They had never been groomed or cared for. Some dogs’ toenails had never been trimmed and were so long that they curled under their paws and grew into the bottoms…
Read MoreTwo nights before BlogathonATX, I had a dream that I was tied to a tower while hundreds of vultures circled around me. They seemed to think I was dead, so one landed nearby and started making its way toward me. I struggled to move so he’d know I wasn’t dead, but apparently I wasn’t just tied up—I was paralyzed too… How’s that for an anxiety dream?
Read MoreI’m fairly certain this needs no explanation. This travesty was brought to my attention by Phil West of Luminaria Media & Public Relations, via Roy Bragg.
Read MoreThis evil squirrel finally gets his due. Mwah-ha-ha… 🙂 , If you can’t view the video above, check out this kamikaze squirrel on YouTube.
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