This morning I rediscovered the reasons I hate to clean. I often fantasize that I will one day become the keeper of an immaculate house....a place for everything and everything in its place. Ha! After breakfast today, I decided to clean out the medicine cabinet in our kitchen. This is a good thing, as I've been accumulating medicine since 1975 or so, as one never knows when (s)he will need some dried up cough syrup or yellowed pills of indeterminate purpose.
As I pulled open the cabinet, I noticed that Gary had left a number of empty almond butter jars on the microwave, at my request, as I hate the way he fills them with water and leaves them soaking on the edge of the sink until I complain. I can't throw them in the recycling bin until I clean them, because who wants to send that mess to some poor soul who has to sort plastics for a living? It only took me about half an hour to clean them. (Please don't tell me there is no poor soul sorting almond butter jars, because I really hate cleaning them.)
Then I began organizing pills, checking expiration dates, and tossing old meds. As I emptied pill containers into the trash (yes, I know, one is supposed to flush old meds, but we have a septic system and I figured medication would eventually make its way to our well water. As I write, it occurs to me that human waste might be able to do the same thing, and....well, you can see that I have a tendency to veer off track. Stay tuned for another blog about our contaminated well water. And another to ponder the legality of tossing pills into the trash. Will a bear eat the trash/pills and die? Will a sanitation worker find them and sell them, with my name on the bottle, resulting in my arrest and imprisonment? Yes, I actually think these things.) Anyhow, as I was tossing things in the trash I noticed that the trash was full, so I pulled the trash and recycling bags out to empty, and realized that the bins were long past due for cleaning. I pulled the bins out, and decided to take them outside where I could use the hose to clean them.
When I went to the garage to get the hose, I noticed that there were way too many cardboard boxes waiting to be broken down for recycling, so I decided today is the day. I tore and folded my way through half of the boxes, stopping only because I filled the recycling bin. Oh, yeah, the hose. Since Gary always puts things away in illogical places, I spent nearly half an hour looking for the hose in all the illogical places before discovering that he put it in the most logical place. He is so darn inconsistent! I dragged the hose outside, hooked it up, cleaned the bins, having to stop every two minutes or so to let the dogs in/out of or out/in to the house. The hose was leaking, so my pant legs and shoes got soaked, and I tracked water and mulch into the house, which meant I had to dry and sweep the floor, and why would I only sweep one floor, I might as well do them all.
The hose. As I put the hose away in the garage, I knocked over the plastic bags and bottles that need to be returned to the grocery store, so heck, I might as well put them in the car and take them back, too. But first, I should probably finish up the cabinet reorganization, and straighten the boxes that wouldn't fit into the recycling bin, and as long as I'm taking care of things needing to be recycled, there's that stash of paper bags in the laundry room that has been annoying me for weeks, and as long as I'm dropping off recycling at the store, I might as well cram in some Christmas shopping and....
I am exhausted. And when Gary gets home tonight, he may or may not notice that I reorganized one cabinet, but either way he'll think that's all I did today. And this is the way I clean. It's a good thing we have a real cleaner, Brenda, who comes once a week. I love you, Brenda!
Monday, October 27, 2014
Tuesday, January 21, 2014
Metal Smithing
Metal smithing has been a longtime hobby. I began making jewelry as a lark, then found the workbench a place where I could get into "the zone," experiencing the process as meditation, a place where I could forget everything and my brain would stop its frenetic thinking.
Since I began metal smithing, I've also delved into pastels, collage, felting....somehow I always circle back to metals, though, and in the past year I've put renewed energy into my 'creative' process. I have been working on carving wax models which are then cast into metal. And in spite of my fear of fire (you may remember the instructor I almost torched), I've been trying my hand at reticulation, and most recently, etching. Etching uses acid that costs an arm and a leg to ship because it is so dangerous. It comes with warnings and skulls and crossbones and giant red letters, which of course (being me) I didn't notice until I had been splashing it around for half an hour or so. It actually eats metal, and is often done in large trays. We were using a very small Pyrex bowl, though, so I didn't need to worry about falling in. (I'd have a hard time fitting in a large tray, too, but I could probably manage to tip it over and scar someone else.) We did have to run outside periodically to breath fresh air so our lungs wouldn't get scorched. Life on the wild side.
I am always the one in class who forgets you aren't supposed to put tweezers in the pickle (a solution that cleans metal) because it contaminates the pickle and ruins whatever is already in the pickle. (My classmates were not too happy with me that day. Come to think of it, they are often not too happy with me. And for sure they quickly learned to avoid me when I have torch in hand.) I am also the one who cuts herself, and drops TINY little gemstones on the floor, necessitating that the whole class spend an hour on hands and knees looking for the damn things. Occasionally I might knock over a ceramic treasure, or sneeze while a classmate is absorbed in a tiny, tricky maneuver that requires great focus. I am only human.
Today I decided that I needed to relax, and retired to my craft room, where I have enough equipment to do a few simple tasks at home. Here is how I relaxed: I had already laid out my metal and tools, and I knew how I wanted the finish piece to look. All I needed to do was rivet some reticulated silver and hammered copper together to form two pendants, and epoxy some tiny pieces onto both. Simple. The first rivet got a little complicated, as I tried to align the holes so that the pieces fit together the way I wanted. Finally, after fiddling around for an hour or so, the holes were lined up and I was ready to place the rivet. My rivet was too short, so I had to go downstairs to the garage to get the vise which holds the metal tubing so that it can be sawed.
No problem. Done. (Although that vise is heavy and I think I may have tweeked my back a little.) I then went back upstairs to search for my saw. I located it in the back of a cupboard, and in the process found a lot of stuff I had forgotten I had, so of course I had to stop and look at all of it, and that got me thinking about what I could make with it, and wondering how I could forget all that good stuff, and...). That took about 1/2 hour. Saw in hand, I gathered my equipment and returned downstairs, where I discovered that I couldn't get the saw blade into the saw. I needed the pliers to tighten the saw, but the pliers live in the basement and I just finished a book about a serial killer who dismembered his victims, and serial killers might be in basements, right? I waited until the dogs came in and made them all come to the basement with me to get the pliers. While down there, I remembered that I wanted to bring a piece of exercise equipment upstairs, and since I prefer not to tempt the serial killer in the basement twice in one day, decided that I should bring it up today. It was heavier than it looked and I think I tweeked my back a little more. Pliers in hand, I fixed the saw and sawed my tube rivet and went back upstairs.
The rivet was too short, I discovered after I had dropped it 5 or 6 times on the carpet which is the same color as the metal which makes it very hard to find but I found it anyway dammit, and then dropped it again, and again. Back downstairs I went to saw another piece, which fit nicely. One little rivet tap tapped in place. Process repeated for second rivet, except I dropped that one more and well, to be honest, I said some bad words, too. Did I forget to mention that I have a little problem that means every time I put something down I can't find it and have to search for it? It goes like this: pick up metal, oops dropped on floor, get down on hands and knees, find metal, now I can't find my hammer. Got the hammer but realized I have to use the tweezers to place the rivet. Where the hell are the tweezers. Found them, place the rivet, now I can't find the hammer again. Find it downstairs because I had to go there to cut another rivet, go back upstairs where I drop the metal, then can't find the metal, tweezers or hammer. Getting into the zone is exhausting. I think I need a snack. Now it's time to epoxy (epoxy being industrial strength glue that tends to glue me to everything). Mix epoxy, search for toothpicks to place epoxy on tiny metal pieces, find toothpicks, getting a little woozy from the epoxy fumes, lose metal (same color as carpet, etc., etc.), find metal, epoxy dried out, have to mix again, mixed, now where is the metal. Find metal, work really, really hard at getting it onto metal, which I do, but also get a lot on me....and the tweezers and work table and hammer and metal and now we're all stuck together. More swearing. Getting hot in here. FINALLY get metal off me and onto pendant. Tweezers and Kathy still very sticky, pendant a little crooked, can probably file off the crooked parts. I need another snack. Frustration 10, Zone 0.
It's not easy being me.
Since I began metal smithing, I've also delved into pastels, collage, felting....somehow I always circle back to metals, though, and in the past year I've put renewed energy into my 'creative' process. I have been working on carving wax models which are then cast into metal. And in spite of my fear of fire (you may remember the instructor I almost torched), I've been trying my hand at reticulation, and most recently, etching. Etching uses acid that costs an arm and a leg to ship because it is so dangerous. It comes with warnings and skulls and crossbones and giant red letters, which of course (being me) I didn't notice until I had been splashing it around for half an hour or so. It actually eats metal, and is often done in large trays. We were using a very small Pyrex bowl, though, so I didn't need to worry about falling in. (I'd have a hard time fitting in a large tray, too, but I could probably manage to tip it over and scar someone else.) We did have to run outside periodically to breath fresh air so our lungs wouldn't get scorched. Life on the wild side.
I am always the one in class who forgets you aren't supposed to put tweezers in the pickle (a solution that cleans metal) because it contaminates the pickle and ruins whatever is already in the pickle. (My classmates were not too happy with me that day. Come to think of it, they are often not too happy with me. And for sure they quickly learned to avoid me when I have torch in hand.) I am also the one who cuts herself, and drops TINY little gemstones on the floor, necessitating that the whole class spend an hour on hands and knees looking for the damn things. Occasionally I might knock over a ceramic treasure, or sneeze while a classmate is absorbed in a tiny, tricky maneuver that requires great focus. I am only human.
Today I decided that I needed to relax, and retired to my craft room, where I have enough equipment to do a few simple tasks at home. Here is how I relaxed: I had already laid out my metal and tools, and I knew how I wanted the finish piece to look. All I needed to do was rivet some reticulated silver and hammered copper together to form two pendants, and epoxy some tiny pieces onto both. Simple. The first rivet got a little complicated, as I tried to align the holes so that the pieces fit together the way I wanted. Finally, after fiddling around for an hour or so, the holes were lined up and I was ready to place the rivet. My rivet was too short, so I had to go downstairs to the garage to get the vise which holds the metal tubing so that it can be sawed.
No problem. Done. (Although that vise is heavy and I think I may have tweeked my back a little.) I then went back upstairs to search for my saw. I located it in the back of a cupboard, and in the process found a lot of stuff I had forgotten I had, so of course I had to stop and look at all of it, and that got me thinking about what I could make with it, and wondering how I could forget all that good stuff, and...). That took about 1/2 hour. Saw in hand, I gathered my equipment and returned downstairs, where I discovered that I couldn't get the saw blade into the saw. I needed the pliers to tighten the saw, but the pliers live in the basement and I just finished a book about a serial killer who dismembered his victims, and serial killers might be in basements, right? I waited until the dogs came in and made them all come to the basement with me to get the pliers. While down there, I remembered that I wanted to bring a piece of exercise equipment upstairs, and since I prefer not to tempt the serial killer in the basement twice in one day, decided that I should bring it up today. It was heavier than it looked and I think I tweeked my back a little more. Pliers in hand, I fixed the saw and sawed my tube rivet and went back upstairs.
The rivet was too short, I discovered after I had dropped it 5 or 6 times on the carpet which is the same color as the metal which makes it very hard to find but I found it anyway dammit, and then dropped it again, and again. Back downstairs I went to saw another piece, which fit nicely. One little rivet tap tapped in place. Process repeated for second rivet, except I dropped that one more and well, to be honest, I said some bad words, too. Did I forget to mention that I have a little problem that means every time I put something down I can't find it and have to search for it? It goes like this: pick up metal, oops dropped on floor, get down on hands and knees, find metal, now I can't find my hammer. Got the hammer but realized I have to use the tweezers to place the rivet. Where the hell are the tweezers. Found them, place the rivet, now I can't find the hammer again. Find it downstairs because I had to go there to cut another rivet, go back upstairs where I drop the metal, then can't find the metal, tweezers or hammer. Getting into the zone is exhausting. I think I need a snack. Now it's time to epoxy (epoxy being industrial strength glue that tends to glue me to everything). Mix epoxy, search for toothpicks to place epoxy on tiny metal pieces, find toothpicks, getting a little woozy from the epoxy fumes, lose metal (same color as carpet, etc., etc.), find metal, epoxy dried out, have to mix again, mixed, now where is the metal. Find metal, work really, really hard at getting it onto metal, which I do, but also get a lot on me....and the tweezers and work table and hammer and metal and now we're all stuck together. More swearing. Getting hot in here. FINALLY get metal off me and onto pendant. Tweezers and Kathy still very sticky, pendant a little crooked, can probably file off the crooked parts. I need another snack. Frustration 10, Zone 0.
It's not easy being me.
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