We flirted with 100° this week, and we’ll be flirting with it again next week. All this philandering is starting to get on my nerves.

It’s that time of year when your old (emphasis on old) pal Spook searches for some scrap of motivation that hasn’t evaporated or otherwise got burned to a crisp in the August blast furnace.

Snug Harbor’s weed crop thrives, encroaching by the minute like a wet, writhing blanket of Kudzu. Bag worms have won the Battle of The Conifers and the killing fields are littered with bodies yet to be policed. Minor annoyances collect like drips of sweat, tiny needles that itch the back of the neck.

Something clicks, and a normally friendly fellow turns into a raging maniac, yelling, “get off my lawn, you damn kids!”

Summer Soup. Blah.

I’m really looking forward to Fall this year.
Probably not half as much as Mrs. Spookyblue.

Category: Stuff   Tags: Monsters

This newly completed, next generation Grumble critter sports several design improvements over his predecessor which include an inspection hatch for the electrics, and zero chicken wire. In addition to being much lighter than the original Grumble, a removable noggin and built-in stand round out what has been a great revisit to this project.

But, now that it’s time to box him up and send him to the nice lady who paid in advance, I’m getting that sad “walking the foster dog to his new home” feeling. Grumble (there can really only be one) isn’t as sentimental about it. Every so often you’ll hear him out in the garage. “Hey, Tater! . . . Happy trails, Tater!”

No idea why he calls him Tater.

Category: Halloween   Tags: grumble, Monsters, pumpkin monster

I don’t know how the frog got in the kitchen. I didn’t even know about the frog until later. It was the clatter and crash of the cat colliding against the ceiling fan that got my attention.

Our cat, you see, is very old. Ancient, really. To the point that there are far more cat angels humming around Snug Harbor, numbers stamped on their tunics, than the customary 7 or 8 one might expect to see escorting a cat of her age. This suggests to me that she was either allotted extras at the factory, or she’s been cheating. In any case, my immediate impression was that she was having some kind of seizure as she ricocheted off the fridge and shot into the pantry.

Before I could take two steps, out popped her head. She glanced up at me, winked, and said, “mrrmph!” That’s when I saw the frog.

All cats posses the ability to finesse, to look important, on top of things regardless of circumstances. It’s a conspicuous trait to which we’ve grown accustomed, and sometimes even believe. This, however, is terribly difficult to pull off when the frog you are carrying in your jaws is trying earnestly to kick you senseless. In a sudden burst of energy, the frog landed a wicked kekomi* and jumped free. She tried to follow, but the trajectory of her somersault was wide, and he darted behind a trash can.

I finally had my wits back by this point and was able to intervene, not that the frog needed my help. She saw him go behind the trash can, but she didn’t see me scoop him up and take him outside. She still thinks he’s back there somewhere. Some evenings she sits by the can and waits.

Stupid cat.

*kekomi: “boot to the head”

Category: Stuff   Tags: karate frog

You get used to things.

A pumpkin pile in a corner, a skeleton (Uncle Fred) loitering on the chaise lounge, the big gargoyle crouched on top of the Galaga machine in the living room…

You get used to things.

Category: Halloween, Stuff   Tags: gargoyle, paper mache, paper mache skulls, skull