Entries from March 1, 2008 - April 1, 2008
Well, we're off to Atlanta for a while ...
not on purpose, as leaving Asheville is never by choice. My grandmother, Montine Ellington, is on her deathbed in Hospice (bless 'em) down in Georgia, so I will be outta commission for a while as I go down and attend services. Grandma and her kin are not just Southern, they're country. This funeral will be an event with crowds (grandma has a lot of friends) and food and preaching and Mascara-stained tissues clutched in white-gloved hands.
I love her tremendously, and the world was not a better place when she suffered a mostly-debilitating stroke in December of 2006. Not long after that, we went down to Atlanta to visit her and I did this little stack -- "Cross on a Hill" -- over where Dial Mill Road crosses Gum Creek, for her: 
Sadly, she has reached a point now where it's time for her to move to another plane, as her earthly body isn't functioning. If she gets the afterlife she deserves and so strongly believes in, she will rule in her Heaven.
Dave
Grandma left this world this morning at 06:30. She was the sweetest. Made good biscuits, too. Thanks for your kind words.
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I almost escaped the Winter ...
without coming down with a cold or flu, but didn't make it. I'll spare you the details, but I feel well enough to type, so here's an Avant update. The coolest projick I have going at the mo involves the restoration of this 1938 Singer sewing machine: 
Beautimous, isn't it?
It's in really good shape and my hope is to actually sew on it instead of letting it sit around and be Spider Web Helper (same concept as Hamburger Helper, but totally different).
This is Patrice modeling the solar-powered-skirt during its recharging phase: 
I can't get her to wear a top.
She's "Fabriqué-en-France."
Meanwhile, in the rocky portion of the Avant Garden, there's a new Arch on Pedestal hanging around: 
I seek a solar solution for a light on the shelf ...
Is it just my fever, or is there something interesting about this Shadow on the Tall Man photo? 
That was a dang-fine stack, but wind-n-gravity got it.
I think it was one of those you-had-ta-be-there things.
Or perhaps it is one of those things that oughtta be seen in black and white: 
Maybe, maybe not.
Happy St. Patrick's Day, and if you hoist a green pint today, remember me and sing out Picasso's last words, "Drink to me, drink to my health. You know I can't drink anymore. Drink to me, drink to my health. You know I can't drink anymore ..." but don't tell anyone I quoted Paul McCartney on this Web site.
It finally rained!
I mean, it really rained. Rob's Arch is getting his pedestal wet, as we have had (according to Rob's rain gauge) 1.5" of rain today: 
I couldn't get the water to stand still, so it's all blurry.
Let's take a look at that in black and white, shall we?
It would have looked cool back before the invention of color.
Sadly, I feel his hours are numbered, as he has quite a debris collection and there is more upstream just aiming for him.
We had a rainbow in the front yard today. 
Let's not look at the rainbow pic in black and white.
Dave
My post about Rob's Arch proved prophetic. He gathered enough debris and the water got high enough that now there isn't a piece of him left on his rock. The idea now is to rebuild him and make a movie, which I would then edit down to about three minutes, so that Americans will watch the ending, too. I was thinking today about putting on the headphones and listening to music while I stack it. But what if I start to dance? And what should I wear? And if I do start to dance, will it violate the "no extraneous actions to show off or attract attention to yourself" clause of the Prime Directive? Not that I am a good dancer or anything, but I am a bit strange. As a matter of fact, in a few minutes, I am wrapping the strings of solar Christmas lights around meself for a wee stroll through the neighborhood.
Work-work and idea overdrive combined ...
and Friday found my brain pounding like an overheated microprocessor. My rocks felt the buzzing modulation of the Avant Universe, and called me to come and play, promising they'd make me feel better. So early Saturday morning I started answering the call, beginning with the Nature Center Arch on Pedestal:
What a great rockpile. Too bad it's so public and feels so dirty.
That's probably an 8-fugenaut stack. Very tight. Headache was gone immediately.
I went back home to the Avant Garden Proper (a fancy name for floodplain over sewerline) and set to work on 321Arches, one of the most fragile constructions I have going at the mo: 
Why does this thing fall so much? Because it's so two-dimensional?
Later that afternoon I took this photo of the poplar-tree shadows across the Garden: 
I'm not really a fan of poplars, but they make good shadows.
One of the first signs of Spring is the annual mating-of-the-arches. This is the first mating pair I have seen this year: 
To add ambiance, I made the lampstand for them.
They're still in the flirting stage. I'll let you know if they get any closer to procreation.
Broken-Heart Rock has been sadly standing around for a coupla years. He is quiet, so I rarely mention him, but here is a closeup illustrating his sad state: 
A cold black, broken heart ... sad?
This morning I returned to Bent Creek to check on the gang. Two of three arches in the Roadside Serpent were down, so I fixed him up: 
Roadside Serpent rendition number ... 15?
In the end, I built all three, because when I made the middle one, it turned out taller than the front one, and rather than make the middle arch smaller, I decided to make the front one bigger. It took a while and there was much scratching of chins.
Someone had left me a penny tip at The Unphotographable Herd of Arches. I was touched. Though I promptly dropped the penny in the leaves and never found it again, I do appreciate the gesture. It's nice to know someone visits and keeps my babies company.