Saturday, July 31, 2010


I have all but abandoned this blog, lately.

There has been a lot on my mind, on my calendar, and on my desk. I want to apologize to all my friends who I have not emailed in way, way too long. Sometimes I lose track of time, and then I look at the time stamp and see, Whoa! That's from two months ago! And I still haven't responded!!
I've become lax with the general social courtesies and just plain cultivating friendships. I will do better! And if I still haven't emailed you by Tuesday, you have permission to smack me.

Someone with a "Restricted" number keeps calling me. When I answer, they hang up. When I don't answer, they leave a voice message of high-pitched giggling. Not even lying. Sadly, you can't blacklist an "unknown" number. Gaahh.

All that said, today was absolutely brilliant. I admit I was getting frustrated with just about everything this past week, so I packed a lunch, grabbed my camera, notebook, and calculus papers, and headed to the park.

It was surprisingly cool for the middle of summer, and there was a lovely breeze throughout the time I was there. Best yet: there was no one at the park except for me. At one point, a family of four rode their bikes around the trail, but I only heard them for a while and they left fairly quickly. I left feeling very refreshed and un-annoyed.

And now, so I can perpetuate that un-annoyance, I will get a good night's rest.

Sunday, July 25, 2010

speak in myths

Imagine this:

A room at the end of hall, past the Indian statue and the double doors, the walls all made of glass. Mismatched furniture reside in a haphazard semblance of disorder; a loveseat being the biggest item. It happens to also be the softest and most comfortable, so you sit cross-legged facing the east wall. The rest of the house is dark. The room is dark. The world would be dark but for the violent flashes of lightning that rip the sky every few seconds. Notebook on your lap, but no light with which to write. You might flick on the lamp, but the lightning would be diminished by the false illumination. So instead, you sit,  waiting until you're too tired to watch or the show is over, whichever  comes first. Maybe you sing softly to yourself in a haunting, fitting tune. Maybe you close your eyes and watch the now-orange lightning through the safety of your eyelids. Now, count the seconds between lightning and thunder. Now, create  a myth about the mysterious lights flashing from the sky.

Maybe you do all of these things. Maybe none. Maybe you're home, not a rain cloud in sight. Maybe you pulled out your cell to blog about the electric storm going on right outside your glass house because to not seemed like a crime.

That's what I did.

Monday, July 12, 2010

warning: photos. also: snakes.

There are many days when I really just don't feel like blogging.

Today is not one of those days.

I would be hard-pressed to give an accurate and complete description of what has transpired in the past week or so, but I know it included a medical false alarm for one brother, a too-high-sugar-level for another brother, an 8-hour fever for me, and a whole lot of Wii Fit playing by most of the family. I won't describe any of the Wii Fit game-playing here, because talking about riding a Segway around a city to pop balloons that come up from the ground because evil moles are blowing them from their holes gets sorta ridiculous.

Alrighty then, moving right along.

Voila. I painted.

Cotton-lined graphics tablet sleeve with freehand machine-embroidered tree and "love."
I have a bunch of variations of this sort of thing: laptop sleeve, cell phone sleeve, notebook sleeve, etc. It's not meant to be a bag, just something to protect your stuff when you stick it into a bag you already have.

I'll make you one. Just drop me a line in the comments or my email.
I promise it won't cost an arm and a leg. :D

This skirt used to be a dress, but I cut the straps off and used the elastic back as my waistband and thus converted into a lovely skirt with pockets.

This dress, I lengthened. That bottom piece wasn't there - I sewed it on and freehand machine-embroidered wavy lines on it.

Snake pictures!

Along with the tons of rain, humidity, mosquitoes, and raccoons that appear in the summer in our part of Texas, we also experience an influx of snakes. It's nice to have dogs around to alert us when snakes are present, and our puppies did just that the other day.

A really terrifying picture next (don't look if you're squeamish or don't like snakes).

Sorry 'bout the piece of grass in his face. My mom shot it with a BB gun while I took pictures (from a safe distance with a telephoto lens, duh).

And that is the end.

Friday, July 2, 2010

please wipe your feet at the door. you also might need a change of clothes.

Sometimes I feel like I live in Australia.
Mind you, I don't mean there are a lot of scorpions and poisonous snakes running around, or that everyone near me says "mate" and "g'day" and other cliche Australian things. Sadly, I don't raise sheep or fly biplanes or surf like Australians. Actually, I'm referring to the weather.

Let's get this straight, because it's slightly complicated (not really). In Australia, because everything is upside-down and backwards (people walk on their heads, for example), their "cold months" are roughly during America's "warm months." It is currently 2:18 pm in Sydney, Australia, and it has reached a grand 57 F. So no, I don't mean that here in Texas, we're having our cold months. We are not.

While the rest of the world (read: the US) is going to the beach, swimming in pools, wearing small articles of clothing, and doing the Summer Thing, Australia is cold. They're wearing scarves. It's still okay to wear boots. Wearing jeans will not give you a heat rash.

And this is where it ties in: In my lovely city, the best and often-times the only way to do anything outdoors is to do it during the winter. We get one or two very cold days out of the year; being so close to the Gulf and the Equator, we have mild winters. In November, before it drops to (gasp!) 55 F, we go to the beach, because now we can actually stand on the sand without forming blisters on our feet. We go to the zoo. We do Outside Things.

In the summer, it's so hot, we stay inside, reading books and making quilts and playing board games and generally doing those kinds of things that people who don't live in southern Texas and Australia do during the winter months. Does that make any sense?

Today, I was reminded of another reason why we always stay inside during the winter.

I always wondered how the Weather People measured rain in inches. What do they do, find a puddle and stick a ruler in it? Catch a raindrop and see how long it is? Make it stand against a wall so the meteorologist can mark down its height with a pencil?

I don't know how many inches it rained, but the yard held about a foot or more of water.

See my poor truck? I had to move it to higher ground.

Of course, we put on our wellies (what I call them), rainboots (what Beth calls them), and muddy boots (what everyone else calls them), and stomped in puddles. Thankfully, having a large family means that nothing is ever as normal as it should be.

Yes, that is Melody rowing a wading pool in our front yard. What of it?

Jeremiah sported these giant poots:

Poots. Pant-boots. Duh.

The brave elven princess crossed the river to save her kingdom.

After we finished rowing, wading through the small lake that overtook our yard, watching bugs walk on water and/or swim, and other dangerous things, we went inside to do Rainy Day Things. I brought out my 1000 piece puzzle I had completed and demolished two years ago, we played Gin Rummy and Cranium Whoonu, I made bread, and we had pizza for dinner. And I'm reading Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. It's really amusing to imagine Robert Downey Jr. as Sherlock Holmes, and I think I will keep it up throughout the book. :D

Here's to a less-rainy day tomorrow!

Thursday, July 1, 2010

this is not as short as it seems. especially if it doesn't seem short.

This is one of those let'sseehowmanythingsIcansayinaslittletimeaspossible.

If you're still reading, it might interest you to know that I actually forgot the colander story. (If this sounds like nonsense to you: it is. I, in a comment somewhere around here, proclaimed that I don't believe in colanders.) I'm sure what happened is that someone (possibly and probably my mother) asked to find a colander, and because it was less than convenient at the time I decided it offended my deep religious beliefs Against Colanders. Or, you know, something similar.

So why the blogging silence and now the purportedly quick post?

This is me reorganizing my room. Again. That picture shows the only clean part of it right now.

Also, I am a horrid failure at Living Things.

That used to be a cactus. The weird green thing to the right was a dust-octopus I found under the bed. Normal people have dust-bunnies. I have dust-octopi. Oh yeah.

Sad face.

I would say that it's easier for me to take picture than write, but that's a total lie. I take pictures and decide to have a photo-only post but then I feel compelled to explain everything. This paragraph you just read... see what I mean?!

I also painted my toes red.

Made a card house:

Structure's a little... eh.

Made faces with our lunch.

Made faces with our faces (upside-down).

My recent "big" project. It is so, so beautiful. (It's a quilt.)

His name is Petey, though I randomly, accidentally, inexplicably call him Charlie every once in a while.


P.S. Summer listening: the Beatles, and the Mamas and the Papas. Not even lying. (My musical taste has changed so drastically from a year or so ago, it's insane.) Oh, and some Sherlock Holmes soundtrack.

ThethingthatcomesafterP.S. No art last week! Except for a greeting card I gave away! Gasp!

who i am!

Tiph used to be this weird hippie chick who sewed things and drank tea and rode bikes and wrote silly things. Then, college came along, and now she's this weird hippie chick with math in her brain and notebooks full of indefinite integrals. And hardly any time to write. This is her space. Thankfully, space is a vacuum and any complaints you may have cannot be heard.


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About a third of the credit for this template goes to The rest of that fraction goes to Tiph's incessant tinkering and exploding the CSS 'til it worked.

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