If you are a woman born in the late 50s or early 60s, you might remember Liddle Kiddles. Very cute little dolls, maybe 3″ high, with goofy names, these toys appealed to girls like me who weren’t really into dolls. My favorite was a little cowgirl named Calamity Jiddle. Today, I am Calamity Jiddle. I was walking back to the house for something and I heard a terrible noise. I kept walking. (Brings to mind the time I was driving to work and heard a terrible noise so I turned up the stereo and kept driving. I wrecked the tire, but not the rim.) After girding the loins of my courage, I resolutely walked back to the workshop. My mural, panels #3 and #4, were on the floor. So was the ladder and the supporting screens and all the paint bowls and palette. I picked it all up, piece by piece, and the panels are okay. I set it all back up, but a little differently. (One definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over while expecting different results. I have a tendency to ignore bad things, but I am not insane. Yet.) There are no photos. It was too ugly. There is no chocolate in the house, I don’t drink, and I am too paint splattered to go to the yarn store. I might just go lie down. Perhaps the fetal position with my thumb in my mouth. Maybe even under the bed. When I have gathered myself together again, I will have to buy another ladder. (no photos of that either – it too is ugly).
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