Archive for March, 2012

Lessons Learned and Plans Aplenty

Posted in Uncategorized on March 15, 2012 by Queenie

To begin this current edition, I offer you handy dandy words to the wise, or to the unwise who need to get a clue:

  1. Never use masking tape to tape off your borders/edges on a painting job.
  2. Never start a big job on a fit of pique (or anything else) if you’re not going to finish it in a timely fashion.
  3. As a correlating, redundant exclamation point to 1 and 2, don’t wait two and a half years to finish up your fit of pique painting job without expecting to have severe consequences in dealing with the masking tape… which was the wrong way to do it in the first place.

Goodness, there’s all sorts of lessons here – all to be applied within the all too real parable of a painting job gone awry. I had first thought I should be including this in my “other” blog – that of The Last Stand at the Slippery Slope Ranch – which is concerning itself these days with the numerous attempts of bringing the place up to speed with various and sundry projects both huge and nick picky – but so many of the current Aha Moments seem to be more to do with Queenie’s previous leanings toward telling her audience the hows and ways of THINGS…..that I felt I should include all this in the more pontificative vein of my publications.

And so, here we are. While I am pittering and puttering away at all the projects of home improvement while the art world awaits my next move, I am reaping the dubious benefits of additional time and stress and gnashed teeth because I didn’t do something right so many months ago. Of course I defended myself at the time, rationalizing (usually a dangerous thing) that I was awash in such a veritable flurry of righteous indignation and emotion fueled activity that I blithely entertained any notion that my acknowledged acceptance of doing it the wrong way wouldn’t get me in the end. I KNOW you’re not supposed to use masking tape to protect your trim and windows and edges when tackling a texturizing and paint job. BUT, (and there’s always a “but” when you’re defending bad behavior, isn’t there?), I was in such a ball of whirlwind activity further fed by an “I’ll Show Them” (or whatever) flavored vehemence that I figured I’d have this job finished in a week or so and the punishment of masking tape gone bad would have absolutely no bearing on my existence. May I now point out that said sword waving and the initiation of that job was indeed two and a half years ago, and the masking tape has long since made its stand for permanence in its current location, despite the fact that I have about finished the actual painting started in such a fit those years ago, and now I am in the throes of rectifying a good plan gone a bit awry. And it is, indeed, my bad. Fie.

So… off to the fix-it store, (usually Home Depot, or Home Despot as we generally refer to it in these parts), to find Goo Be Gone or whatever miracle product must surely have been made for dolts such as I. I’ll try to steer clear of the plant department which lures me like the sirens’ call as the sailors to the rocks, but maybe I will check out the possibilities of gutters and rainwater collection systems to attach to the new storage shed, which would at least provide nourishing, non-chlorinated water to the garden area. The projects, and possibilities, are endless.

However, it occurred to me that I could use my pitiful example here of Make Work Situations when such head banging experiences could have been avoided as a long overdue opportunity to pontificate. Truth be known, when I started that kitchen project going on three summers ago, it was a project simmering in gestational limbo and already on the list, but I charged into it with vim, vigor and not a small amount of vitriol. I was mad, likely in several definitions of that little three letter word. The object of my long inconvenient and little nurtured affections was then finally out of my life, and while it would do little good to wallow in it, it was much more the preferred method of getting over and on with it by tackling something positive. Past almost aggressive physical undertakings fueled by insults to the heart have included trimming and burning the shorn parts of very large cedar trees in one afternoon, and still I enjoy the results of those rampages. Good exercise, too.

But my little exercise of Good Works Gone Bad was mostly born of being just plain mad, (even if greatly at my own self), and the short cuts I took to just get to the job right then, right now, no matter what are the detriments, won the argument of going to the store to get the proper supplies versus just painting the damned thing when I was in the mood. Payback, as has been so well quoted before, is a bitch. Masking tape does not surrender easily. And I think it laughs out loud. Why, it veritably mocks.  But I’ll get it, I will.

Meantime, the glorious color is applied, and finished, except for a few touchups. I mean, don’t these walls just scream “GOOD MORNING!”


There are, with any endeavors of this sort, many flies that appear in the ointment… like the fact that now the counters are too worn out to share space with the walls. Likewise the cabinets. And the floors. The road goes on forever and the upgrade never ends. I don’t know who will win, in the end, but I suppose I’ll be waging battle against the spawn of entropy and general wear and tear for as long as I breathe, at least while I am in this house and on this acreage. Dragons abound and await both within and without, and there is always the cedar, dead or alive.

For those who might not have seen a social posting on the progress of the new shed, I supply one herewith.  Alas, it is entirely pitiful to say that not another paint lick of progress has transpired since this point, and what can I say besides March is indeed a busy month, my birthday celebration month, and sometimes that celebrating gets in the way of putter progress.


Glorious moments were had for a girlfriend gathering out near the little town of Rosanky, at the quaint and charming Arts Cottage at the Rock-C Ranch, We were royally entertained by the likes of Bobby Bridger, accompanied by master guitarist John Inmon, in the performance of Lakota, the last of the epic narrative/musical performance trilogy of Bobby’s Ballad of the West.



I urge you without reservation to take advantage of any opportunity that has Bobby Bridger in the sentence. You will not be disappointed, and will likely be in awe, wonder, respect, and if you’re akin to my sensibilities, in tears. Just go. (Plans are afoot to make this happen in the mountains in Ruidoso this summer – stay tuned.)

Several birthdays are happening this month – Power to Pisces! – (especially those from the Pleiades) – and what fabulous creatures we are. Multiple gatherings and lunches with friends are in the works, and it will be topped off by yet another Road Trip of Large-ish proportion towards the end of the month. My new pal Liz and I are off in but days to meet up with TheQueen in the wilds of California, headed for Death Valley. Now Queenie here finds herself hoisted upon her own stickey wicket, for here comes another Royal Road trip to be documented, and has she even completed the tale of the last one back in the summer, so long ago? You know the answer to that one. Fie again. I’m not sure how that will be reconciled in the long term, but you can count on missives from the road for the upcoming adventure. Those two fabulous words are again on the wind: ROAD TRIP! Get this…..  We plan to reunite in the strange (as I understand it) little burg of Baker on April Fools Day at the Mad Greek Cafe. And if that’s not perfect, I don’t know what is. Stay tuned for reports on that, too.

All that said, I suppose that’s enough for a long overdue edition. Pace yourself, royal subjects. Heed my bad example as I’ve already done the experience for you on doing, or more to the point NOT doing the WRONG thing, more especially when you know it’s wrong. And then join in the anticipation and excitement as we ready for another adventure on the blue roads.

Death Valley or Bust, y’all.  (And don’t you just know Utah is between here and there, and crazy little funky motels with hot springs in Truth or Consequences, New Mexico, long on my list.) May I say Yee, immediately followed by HAW!