This literally is a title about a title.

Out of the most horrible of situations I got a most delightful surprise today.

Obviously I was upset yesterday. I think my post made that pretty clear. The tragedy on the bus was bad enough, but the panicking and finger pointing was truly becoming unbearable. You know in the space of I think about twenty comments following one article I read, that the attacker went from "pretty big", to "6 foot, 200 pounds", to "6'4, 250 pounds". Why isn't the constant exposure and modern involvement in media making us any smarter when it comes to using it?

There was one headline that I found particularly irresponsible:

Children see man decapitate fellow passenger on Greyhound bus in Canada

Elana Schor in Washington
The Guardian,
Friday August 1 2008

Everything I'd read had said that everyone was off the bus when that happened. It was late, and I fired off a loopy, badly written, cringingly snippy, but dammit very Sincere! response:

Re the article:

"Children see man decapitate fellow passenger on Greyhound bus in Canada"

Elana Schor in Washington
The Guardian,
Friday August 1 2008

Namely the title. Did they really? How did the children see the man in the back of the dark bus standing with his back in front of the victim behind rows of tall seats, while they were being rushed out the door for their lives, commit this act? Did their parents hold them up to the window when they got outside?

Please reply. This is very very troubling. This is a tragedy affecting my community, and I am not impressed by flagrantly inaccurate reporting. Please please verify these claims.


Bless their hearts, they responded, and wow, quickly!

(Here I have to note that this is a straight copy/paste. That is to say, their spelling error, not mine, neener!):

Thank you for your email. The foreign desk have spoken to Elana Schor who did not say in her report, and does not say now, that the children witnessed the decapitatioin. The headline went beyond what she wrote. We are removing it from the web site and correcting it in the newspaper.
David McKie

Give it up for the Guardian, folks. They totally stepped up to the plate.

So what's the lesson for today?

That it is worthwhile to speak up. The media shape our lives, so we need to make sure they're reporting and portraying ours accurately.

And we can.

Oh yeah, and buy my stuff.



www.tattytiara.etsy.com

Do not shout this title in a crowded theatre.

Everybody panic! Right now!

A man was decapitated on a bus! Society is going to hell and nobody's safe anymore and I'm traumatized just by thinking about it!!!

Has anyone ever heard of necklacing? It's where you fill a tire with gasoline, hang it around someone's neck and then set it on fire. So popular in some parts of the world the custom even has a name.

But back to the decapitation. Why didn't they check everybody for weapons when they boarded the bus? Why do they even sell knives like... whatever the knife he had was like? Don't they give released prisoners bus tickets? Why don't buses have armed marshals?

Oh hey! Look at the pretty graph I found!



Wow, cars sure kill a lot of people. I wonder how many people have been killed on buses?

Back to the point, though. If you aren't panicking about somebody sawing off your head the next time you take public transportation, you're living in a dream world. If you aren't prepared to sacrifice the majority of your civil liberties to prevent this kind of thing from happening To Innocent People!!! you're just as bad as the nut job who committed this heinous act.

Surely we'll at least take another look at re-instating the death penalty now. If there's one thing that stops people from dismembering sleeping passengers on crowded buses it's the threat of serious legal consequences!

I'm going to go play with my cats and watch the Corner Gas dvds I got from the library now. Come and get me when everybody's sane again. If, on the other hand, Canadians decide to abdicate civil liberties over this, just leave me there.

Oh yeah, and buy my art.



www.tattytiara.etsy.com

Can you feel the heat coming off this title?

I am the love... um... thingy! Of some sort! I don't know what I've evolved into, but suddenly I'm as irresistible around here as a piece of bacon rolled in catnip. That's dandy indeed, but y'know - animals attract by smell, and what attracts them will otherwise repel. I am still bathing regularly, so I'm really hoping it's just my personality. Extra long shower tonight just to be sure, though.

That is if I'm ever allowed to stand up again. You can see how effectively Cynthia immobilizes her prey.



I should not have sat down before grabbing something to eat. I hope she wakes up soon. My scented eraser's starting to make me drool.

I hope nobody finds out I stole this title.

Well this pretty picture turned out to be a foreshadowing of doom:



My little darling has discovered his superpower. He can walk through screen windows! No wait, scratch that - I don't think it counts as a superpower unless you leave the screen intact.

Which he does definitely not.



Four in a week he's gone through.

Thanks to the brain trust that is the Etsy forums (thousands of DIY babes at your disposal 24/7 - a highly recommended resource! It should be noted, however, that a large percentage of them are, at any given time, very merrily tipsy. This has only a nominal effect on their intellectual prowess, but be forewarned that any topic of conversation can quickly and without warning lose it's PG rating) I have learned how to DIMyself and repair this damage. I was even tipped off to the existence of Pet Resistant screening which, by god, seems to be resisting my pet!

I've got two windows done so far and today borrowed a ladder from my costume department at work to do the rest. The owner's out of town so I had to borrow it without permission. Would I get it if I asked? Of course! Would he look at me like I was silly for even feeling the need to ask? Definitely!

Do I feel guilty for taking it without permission?

I'm such a dork. Does anyone else ever feel like a thief when they take things that they have standing permission to borrow just because they didn't happen to get specific permission one specific time?

I blame the mean woman at Economy Drugs growing up. The moment you were out of her sight she'd come charging out from behind the counter to find and confront you.

"Are you stealing?"

No ma'am. Just setting fires. I paid for the matches, though. Want to see my receipt?

That old gestapo trained till tyrant gave me a complex, man.

Here's the latest new listing - another ready to hang/cheap to ship original painting on canvas board:



Go here for the listing, or check out the whole shop (recommended!) here: www.tattytiara.etsy.com

Thanks for stopping by and please and by all means say hello so I know you were here and can check out your blog too!

I found this title written backwards on the window.

Guess what was waiting on my porch to greet me when I let the dogs out a few days ago?

Terror!!!!!!




Okay terror might be a rather strong description for a green balloon. You have to admit, though, that it's a damnably unnerving thing to have just inexplicably standing there at eye level.



Especially when it has horrible scrawly eyes topping a cruelly enthusiastic smile.



Add a dash of deflation and it looks like it belongs on a billboard for a children's charity or hospital, at least in the before donation graphic. I took it inside for the cats to enjoy a supervised kill so it didn't wind up down some poor birds throat.

They wouldn't go near it.

Turns out they refuse to kill anything that has the courage to look them in the eye. Apparently it's a matter of honor. I was assured it was nothing to do with cowardice, then instructed to dispose of it quietly and out of their sight. This task was made simple when they all decided to inspect the underside of the sofa en masse.

It is a complete coincidence that I added the gorgeously green painting "Chicken Bubbles" to my Etsy shop this week, but one too serendipitous not to feature:



Actually have a bunch of cool new stuff there, so do check it out, and please and by all means leave me feedback. It's great when people let you know what works so you know to keep doing it!

www.tattytiara.etsy.com

Thanks for stopping by and bless y'all.

This title just came to me out of a clear blue sky.

Hail yes we had a storm today!

This was what was left once the rain quieted down enough for me to open the door:



Why do I always, compulsively, feel the need to collect hail? I'm lucky the stuff melts, or by this point I'd need to rent storage space to keep it all.

Anyway I do, and wow is it cool when you can scoop a whole bowl full!




Almost looks as though you could dig to the middle and find an enormous spittle bug in there.




Still going to finish the last entry and post the rest of those pics... soon!

It took me a month and a half to write this title!

I would like to present Mrs. Thor:



I've missed so much excitement. Yes, they built a nest. Yes, they laid an egg. Unfortunately a rehab centre is not equipped for breeding, and the nest was on the ground. The freak very severe, very late winter storm happened (in spring, like winter storms have a nasty habit of doing in Canada) and the egg was not viable. Just not meant to be.

Meanwhile I'm delighted that Thor has a companion. I've been worrying about him since his best bud Jordan died a couple years back. He's a very sociable fella.



I think a big contributing factor to this unexpected fecundity is the amazing environment that the Gs (who run the shelter) have created. The eagles have their very own river now. Not long puddle, river, with running water like.



Another contributing factor is a distinct absence in the environment. I think any critters going to be a lot more likely to try for a family when there isn't someone hanging around that will try to eat your family. The golden eagle finially misbehaved enough to get her own pen.



It's not as big, but after years of cajoling it's clear she's never going to try to fly again anyway. She's happier on her own, time to give her what she wants.



So while I'm sorry I missed the excitement, I'm just glad to come back and find everybody happy.



More happy birds um... tomorrow? The shots are downloaded, anyway, so posting will be sooner rather than later!

This title may not be containable.

So after waking up on the mezzanine level of hell yesterday, I was enjoying a chat with my right hand man/former wrestler extraordinaire Frenchy (to use his old grapplin' handle) today, and he starts telling me about his day yesterday. About how he found his neighbour face down in the gravel and unresponsive, having had a stroke. About how it took the longest 20 minutes of his life for the emergency services to arrive because apparently yesterday was the busiest fire day in city history for as far back as anyone can remember or something like that.

So that wasn't a fun day for anyone.

Well tonight I'm supposed to be at a rehearsal for the theatre I'm involved in, but the door was locked and nobody was there when I pulled up a few minutes late. I kicked myself unnecessarily hard and assumed I had the wrong day. Just checked the e-mail announcing the next rehearsal. Nope.

Ah well, a lovely night for a drive with the radio being awesome with it's blues selection. Then it was terrible with a horrid screeching noise. Then the emergency broadcast system noted some highway closures and an evacuation notice because of a fire in some town. I didn't pay too much attention to the details. I was too suprised that I understood what I was hearing.

It was in English. All of it was in English. Only in English.

I was listening to the French Canadian Broadcasting Corporation station.

You can't even go to the park without being greeted with "Hello Bonjour!" in Canada, but evacuation notices don't have to be bilingual? They don't even have to be in the official language that the station they're being broadcast on broadcasts in?

Learn a second language today, folks. You really never know just how handy it might come in some day!

Meanwhile, my lovely Mackie heading out on one of our favourite trails (which has bilingual markers):

This title is way below code.

Nothing gets you out of bed faster than the sound of sirens and the smell of acrid smoke. From where my bed is situated I can look out my window at a large, open park located right behind my home. I couldn't see past my fence for smoke.

I have no idea who's place was on fire. From the sound of the sirens it was close, but no uber-close, I don't think. I'd say over a block away.

Nothing gets you started on a day with a feeling of deep, deep gratitude like knowing today was the day for a home in your neighbourhood to burn and it wasn't yours.

Mackie and I found this vision of beauty on our hikes the other day:



So I made this:



Silly creatures. They really just have no idea how to take a bad picture.

I had to write this title three times!

I keep working on this guy and working on this guy. He's beautiful so I persist. Alas, he is also cursed. So I persist.



This is painting number three of him. One and two were also lovely, but glitches invariably happened. It took Four! photo sessions to get a good shot of him - light was bad, camera was on the wrong setting, you name it. On my monitor it still kind of looks like his background's black. It's not. It's a gorgeous grapey purple.

This guy, on the other hand, flew out of my head perfectly formed and lovely. I'm very happy with him.



Art is funny.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Funny.

This title took forever to write.

I designed this card well over a year ago, and it's only just today seen the light of Etsy. Obviously modeled after Man Ray's "Le Violon d’Ingres", the cat that inspired it was ironically my Siamese Keaton. His nickname was also Kiki.

Speaking of cats, of course, I do believe Andy is responding to treatment. His paw is still gory looking, but he's limping less and it's not inflamed and angry looking anymore. Just very very injured.

Now the lawnmower's sick. At least I think so. It was shaking like a chihuahua confronting a hairbrush. I'm thinking I should have it looked at before it does something silly like spit it's spinning blade of destruction at my neck.

Oh yeah and congratulations to me! Yesterday I had my first sale since I've been back in business at Etsy. Good ol' Chalkie, he never lets me down.

TAACEOs (Title About Art Cards, Editions, and Originals)

So now that my caffeine free brain isn't busy knitting itself into knots, it decided it needed a new creative challenge. This is what's challenging my brain now: ACEOs (Art Cards, Editions, and Originals - basically trading cards for art. The only rule is the size - 2.5" X 3.5". Standard bubblegum card size.)

This is Stan's Etsy debut! I've been painting him a lot. He'll show up more, I'm sure, but for his debut I've captured the birth of his cosmic awakening:



This one explains itself, I'd say. The title is "Pure Joy Pup":



Meanwhile, Andy (he of the floating head fame in my paintings, and featured in the last post) appears to have an auto immune disease. Not content with attacking everyone else in the house, he's found a way to attack himself! He's starting steroids tonight. Please anybody reading send healing thoughts - his poor front right paw looks like dried hamburger!

This title's so great I just have to write it again.

Return of a couple favorites in my shop over at Etsy - go check 'em out! Note the handy dandy self updating sidebar for your convenience, hey? Hey? Hey yeah!

Meanwhile, I have been home schooling. More specifically Andy has been schooling me in how to run his home.

Today's lesson: you are not supposed to leave the cat inside when you work in the yard.



So beautiful when he's angry.

Mackie also taught me some math today:

1 Dog = 3hrs + 5 garbage bags

Tomorrow is the happiest day of the year. It's the day that the next time I have to that bit of spring clean up is the furthest away.

This title is... ummm...

Caffeine I decided, I'm not... no... not caffeine... now today. No caffeine, now today. In me. No. There is no caffeine in my body. first ever time no caffeine in me. No more. Coffee isn't no... no coffee is caffeine I'm not... no caffeine. I'm no caffeine. Headache.

Coffee coffee coffee coffee coffee. Headache.

Wow - the title's longer than the entry.

Hey! Lookit my sidebar!

Let's see how I can manage to screw up the title.

Well we've been treated to a four day snowstorm and it's deeper than my dog out there. The dog that stands as high as my waist, I mean, not the ankle biter. That's the same dog that weathered the first two days of the storm with stomach problems. I will never take the ability to use indoor plumbing for granted. Ever.

Now the furnace just quit. The brand new furnace I had emergency installed in February, and already the parts that the shop has on-hand are out-dated! Gotta wait for the warehouse to open tomorrow morning. Meanwhile I have just lost two days of work to the storm - this after six and a half years of never missing work due to bad weather ever - and need to go in tomorrow. I'm sending half my cast to Banff on Friday, and have another show running that night to get ready too. Don't know how this is all going to play out.

My brain did this. My brain was so well trained by my last piece of unmentionable furnace that I've been expecting this one to kick out on me since it was installed. Seriously. Falling asleep at night my stomach would lurch when it ended it's cycle normally. As soon as the situation got as extremely inconvenient as it could be to have a breakdown it happened. I made that happen. Totally. It would appear that today would be a bad one for me to buy a lottery ticket, but maybe it's the perfect one.

Meanwhile the nice guy from the bad company (my responsibility in this mess aside I have totally picked the wrong company to deal with) is out fetching space heaters from their shop to keep it from getting too horrid in here tonight. Bless his heart, he tried everything to jimmy it together.

Before that I posted on Etsy again, finally! Not the best of what I've been up to - I'm building up to that. When you post new things you get the most views for your shop, so it's best to work your way up to your best stuff. I was going to post more today, but then the furnace happened. Oh yeah, and the photo upload on blogger isn't working today either - yep, go ahead and blame me for that too. My pessimism is all powerful today it seems. So here's one of the things that's kept me so busy lately:
That's one of two I posted today. Here's the link to the shop: tattytiara

Loving hearing from you all here, by the way. Now to figure out how to get comment notification happening so I can be aware of it in real time!

Maybe I should recycle all the titles from my old blog.

Very good people expressed themselves very honestly to me in very kind and thoughtful ways. Wow. You sure learn a lot when people do that.

I learned that humility can be a very selfish thing. I didn't want to deal with the attention of making a public statement that I was deleting my old journal so I didn't make one. I just deleted it.

Fortunately for me many good people from that community had my e-mail address and were able to communicate to me just how messed up a thing that was to do to people. So I un-did what I had done and wrote an entry and was very gratified by everyone's understanding and whaddayaknow - they knew me. They knew not to go the great galloping goodbye drama route, and whaddayaknow - there was closure for me in their kind good wishes as well. Closure I probably wouldn't have known I'd needed until it was too late had I not been reminded that I had a responsibility to provide it to others. There also were more people interested in keeping touch than I'd even begun to imagine, so there was even a very great reward for learning my lesson.

All that time invested had already paid off, I knew that. I didn't expect the fat bonus at the end, though.

I am so grateful for good people.

This post is not worthy of a title.

I just sent Max out to look for spring.



He was unsuccessful.

No title is worthy of this post.

The loves of my life. Well, the loves I'm responsible for feeding, anyway.

Allison. I think she's about fourteen now. Old, anyway. Her butt's going bald. Still breaks the speed of sound getting from the bedroom to the kitchen.



Annette. Very close in age to Allison, but has very cleverly decided not to age.



Max. Currently in his tenth year of childhood.



Cynthia. My one and a half eyed shadow. Couple years old and supervising the typing of this post.



Andy. My year old shoulder rider. He was actually just supposed to spend a weekend here being fostered, but Cynthia adopted him.



...and that, thankfully, is everybody!

See? Here's another title already!

I deleted my Live Journal account. Had the thing for many years, through many huge life events. Met many people that I loved and who changed my life there.

I can not consciously contribute to a bigoted community, though, and that's what Live Journal is.

But the first of many titles to come.

The true beauty of belonging to an exploded population of species is knowing that whatever you do, no matter how cloth headedly stupid and no matter how heart stoppingly self threatening, that enough people have done it first to have ensured the inclusions of safeguards in the material or object you're handling against the very threat you pose to yourself. So, for example, if you're really stupid or, for perhaps for a better example, legitimately preoccupied by large, important thoughts that are the ear mark of true intellectuals (the two, as I so often have to point out, are often deceptively similar), and happen to put ear drops in your eye, you probably won't go blind or even do serious injury. No matter how screamingly blasphemously it stings. So there'd be no need to, for further example, crawl out of your lovely warm jammies and waste your yummy hot tea and go sit in an emergency ward until it's time to go to work the next morning.

Um, right?