Revenge Will Be His (1649-1668)

sushmaster.deviantart.com

sushmaster.deviantart.com

I’m having a hard time concentrating right now. Scrote and Testy have gotten into something in the other room. It started out conspiratorial but the tone quickly shifted to whining, then pleading, then crying, okay, Testy is yelling OW-OW-OW-OW-OW!

Zeb and I got up at the same time to investigate but he beat me to it. In the other room I heard Zeb say, “OH NO! Scrote, you don’t EVER put tape on someones hair!” then there’s a rip and a blood-curdling scream. I run in there to find Zeb inspecting a large piece of packing tape with lots of hair stuck to it and poor Testy is holding his head and crying. Why can’t we all just get along?

I feel sorry for the little guy. My monsters are very close in size and age but the oldest never misses an opportunity to lord his 17 months and two inches over his brother. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t slip Testy a little extra food to help him catch up with his big bro. It’s a foregone conclusion that Testy will catch up with Scrote and revenge will be his.

I figure the sooner the better. If they are going to do the knock-down-drag-out thing it may as well be before they are really big and have honed their hand-to-hand combat skilz. I’m an only child so all this sibling stuff is a mystery to me, but I’m told this is completely natural. Meanwhile this has got me thinking that I should take up needlepoint or something to relax my nerves.

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Speaking of relaxing, ceramics is supposed to be relaxing until I pull my items off the bisque shelf and they have fatal cracks running through both of them. I’m pretty skilled at hand building with porcelain and I have never had this happen. I asked the expert at the lab and he suspects that since I cut a slab off a freshly pugged piece without wedging it (usually not a problem) I ran into a seam created in the pugging process. Blah, blah, I know, but there might be hand builder out there who can give me some advice.

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WTF? Not even on a seam.

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I want to cry. The glaze ran on the first version of this casserole, now this crack. I’m not going to give up. I want this casserole. Needless to say, I’m trashing these. Scrote almost refused to go to school because he wanted to see me snap it in half and I was like, Go look for a car crash if you need to experience the pain of others.

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This is an ugly plate that sagged during firing. I always tell newbies to not get their hearts set on making a full set of dishes right out of the gate, like I did. Make one. Live with it, see if it feels right, then make more. TRASH.

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This may look like the same box of phones that Zeb brought in yesterday, but it isn’t. I fished out four that I like, put the dead ones from the house in the box and voila! I was programming them this morning and I didn’t know whether you still need to dial a “1” if it is an out of state area code (you don’t) so I tried it on my dad. He answered and we chatted and I explained why I was calling (Just needed to hear your voice!) and he mocked me for not knowing that you didn’t need the “1” anymore. AS IF! This is the guy who wanted me to figure out why his stove wouldn’t aut0clean. Um, maybe because it doesn’t have that feature? See? Says so right here on the manual. Whatev.

So today’s count is ten plus another ten files. The office upstairs is getting cleaner and cleaner and I don’t want to haul all these pieces of shit precious memories up there when I move.

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