Perforated Lines logo.

⚑ February 14, 2018

I Love πŸ’– πŸ’ πŸ’˜

A tiny piece of art from my Twitter friend @whiskeyradish.

A tiny piece of art from my Twitter friend @whiskeyradish.

I love Valentine’s Day! My birthday has been survived, mortality prod that it is. Flowers and hearts! Two of my favorite things. Love my computer and everything on it. Love my life and everything in it. So on and so forth.

I don’t know why I haven’t been writing, but maybe now I will. I probably needed a resting phase, like all green shoots nestled under a snow blanket outside. It’s a gathering phase, a healing pause. Guilt is everywhere, of course, just like dust. I have learned to live with dust, and I occasionally like to attack it with a can of Spanish furniture spray from the dollar store. In some places, maids have to bring their own cleaning supplies, and if it were me, I’d buy the cheapest products with the loudest scents so The Lady would know I truly did my job.

I love the idea of glue, but haven’t found the perfect one, yet. Here’s a thrifty crafting tip:


Old glue. If your glue gun drools during use, save all the puddles that harden into pebbles, as well as all the strands that form while working and put them into a small, flat-bottomed tin. Placed on a dedicated mug-warmer, you will have a permanent glue pot. Apply the hot syrup to surfaces with a popsicle stick. Regather the threads, and repeat.


So I’m writing, but barely. I’ve been busy, however, with lots of other things. I’ve saved two well-loved fitted sheets by sewing pillowcase patches over their thin parts. I’ve binge-watched the entire first season of Star Trek Discovery, and now I have to fix all the horrible plot holes in that well-worn road. I do most of that repair work in the dead of night, when I’m trying to turn off the inner TV, which of course has a faulty switch.

More things that I love: Artistic acts of courage and charity. Thank you, Whiskey Radish, for both. You can follow her on Twitter @whiskeyradish. Twitter is my reliable news feed, bots be damned. πŸ”