TastyTrixie.com

Archive for the ‘plants’ Category

Yay! Our handyman is done fixing our sagging fence! Now there’s not a big gap opening us up to our neighbor and our neighbor to us . . . I’m sure it’s appreciated on her side as much as it is on ours.

Look up above my naked body to see fresh wood!

We’ve gotten a lot more rain than usual this spring, but today is SUNNY so we went for a Sunday walk. The mud wasn’t as bad as last time we took a wet trail walk:

Footprints filled with water in the fun, gushy mud!

Delia and an entire meadow of waist-high stinging nettles growing into a whole untended garden of grub:

A springtime garden of stinging nettles.

Had to crop this camera-phone picture so you could see the butterfly:

Some kind of orange butterfly on nettles.

Working on editing and encoding videos for members now . . . maybe doing some gardening while the vids are rendering? None of the rest of the days this week are forecast to be as sunny as today.

Just out of the shower, warm and freshly scrubbed to soft pinkness:

FYI: that’s one of my absolute favorite “poses”; I love it so much I bought backphat.com to worship it.

I didn’t do what I was going to do yesterday on my day off. The best thing I did was micro-garden yesterday. I mean, I spent a lot of time on my hands and knees tenderly pulling weeds, almost to the point of meditating on One. Blade. Of Grass. At a Time.

I did stuff that doesn’t make sense or accomplish anything, like put pebbles into one size of container. Little rocks into another pile. And medium sized stones into a completely different place.

I filled a container with fir cones. I wish I could do that all day. I mean, I could, but that would be crazy. And I worry that it’s wrong for me to take the cones away from where they’re supposed to be. ON THE GROUND.

I nipped dead branches and black-spotted leaves, focused and intentional with every single cut.

I loved worms, and I saw a very tiny bug, even  smaller than a ladybug and similar but not as round, with a beautiful light brown shell and darker brown and white markings. I’ve never seen that tiny bug before. I don’t know what it was. It was the best thing I saw yesterday, and I wouldn’t have if I weren’t “gardening” in a highly inefficient way.

I do little things here and there. Nothing is really finished, not even one little spot. I’m reminding myself to peacefully DO and leave the results/outcomes to godde/reality/nature/time. And not be afraid that everything is always coming undone and coming to fruition and changing and won’t stop changing at perfection, which are tiny tiny moments like an itty-bitty beetle the color of cold coffee with cream daintily walking on the edge of a pot. BEFORE you google it and find out it might be a voracious home-invading pest. So yeah . . . perfection is ignorance, too.

What I do to finish now is I put away the tools. The shovel the clipper the cultivator the taproot-lifting weeder thing the foamy thing I sometimes kneel on the push broom the wheelbarrow. I dump the stuff I decided to make “yard waste”.

You should put away the tools every day even if you’re not done even if you want to use them again really soon. You put all of the tools away because you’re done today.

*****

We got greasy cheeseburgers and fries, and no matter how bad fries are for your health, if I were struck dead after eating that first golden french fry yesterday, it would have been fucking worth it. Perfect ladyfinger size, perfect thin crunchy outside with a tiny bit of texture, perfect salt, perfect heat and just-dense-enough starch inside. Deep-fried sunshine.

On the way home we looked at little dozers and tractors for sale. I said we can’t have one unless we have at least ten acres. Then I amended it to seven. And then Delia said something and we knew that it might really be the best thing for me, a small multi-use tractor-mower-hauler-scooper to keep me occupied pushing things around, making piles, moving things from one place to another. Just . . . go outside, Trixie, and get on your little tractor-thing.

My grandpa had a riding lawnmower (and a bulldozer, sometimes MORE THAN ONE bulldozer). And blueberry bushes and raspberry vines and crabapple trees and other things. All I ever wanted to do was mow the lawn on the riding lawnmower (there were gears and everything!), and I did a little maybe when I was eleven or something but then someone (I really don’t think it was me) accidentally nicked a blueberry bush so then it was only my dad’s job and I was too old to sit on his lap while he did it. And when my grandpa died years and years later, my mom hired a gentle alcoholic with a beautiful southern accent to prune the fruit trees to get the place ready to sell and he ruined them. They were embarrassing to look at, like upside down brooms missing all but a few long straggly sticks. He had no idea what he was doing. I don’t think he even understood that fruit grows on trees and it takes years to get that right. It was sad, but you had to move on and accept it, and they weren’t going to be our trees anyway.

*****

Today it rained pretty heavily. This tree outside my window had some weird soap-bubbly foam on it:

I’m struggling with depression. And no matter what I type to expand on that seems just . . . exhausting to even look at. It’s not all totally hopeless and gloomy, but I’m definitely having a hard time. Fortunately it’s not so bad that I’ve given up working on it, but if the right magical gypsy wagon of golden fries and cheeseburgers came along and said I could hop on and climb under a thick warm quilt and eat until I fell asleep and rolled away into a dark The End, I would seriously consider getting on it. Fortunately we don’t have to worry about that, because there ARE no magical gypsy wagons offering such fare to solo riders. Maybe I just shouldn’t have stopped taking my 5-HTP. I don’t know.

The wind is really picking up here right now! I wanted to get a picture of my scarf blowing in it, but it was too TOO cold to wait for another gust to try to get a decent photo:

Today I’m learning that it’s not enough to take one day off. You need to take TWO because it takes at least one day to remember to stop working and start relaxing.

Plus one of those days needs to be off together with my girlfriend. We went and shared a Monte Cristo, stood under this tree, then saw a playing-once-only-in-town-for-now movie about an Inuit kid.

We should have stayed for the Q & A with the hunter-actor, but instead we ran errands and got Indian food:

Chicken Tikka Saag, Shrimp Nirvana, and garlic naan. I don’t know why I capitalized the first two dishes, but not the bread.

One of our errands required getting slug bait so the snails will leave my Heuchera alone. And there we met a little dog who has hair instead of fur (and a little green sparkly bow in it!) and I finally saw Delia get all melty over a dog — the same kind of dog her family had when she was growing up – so now I know what her weakness is. Up until today, she has resisted any and all attempts to interest her in getting another pet since Nico died. I’d never have guessed this particular little dog would be the one she’d find irresistible — I didn’t think she liked lap dogs — so I’m extra excited about it.

*****

My attempts to get work done since we got home have been RIDICULOUSLY UNSUCCESSFUL. So I’m going to relax. And listen to the trees and stuff banging around in the wind. And maybe we’ll watch some more Very Cute Puppy Videos on YouTube. And eat leftovers. And just be in love and stuff!

FYI: Delia/we decided not to get (a) dog(s) until we’re caught up on our own dental work. We spent way more money on Nico’s teeth and vet bills than on our own health, so until we can afford to take care of ourselves, too . . . well anyway . . . silky dog has to wait.

I’m taking (most of) the day off today! And I’m going to let myself actually have whole days off. From now on. I mean, mostly off.

What I mean is that I’m not going to do the nudie pic thing on my days off. And I’m going to take more days off. FOR REAL! I’m practicing today, but not entirely succeeding.

Daffodils Delia bought for me.

One of the things I like to do when I’m not working is to watch the light change as the minutes go by.

As the sun went down last night, this plant lit up.

I took a walk today. I saw this in the dirt by the trail:

What is a cat o' nine tails doing in the woods??

There was hail this morning . . . and then there was sunshine and blue sky like this!!

Sunny blue sky, but still cold enough to raise hair on my arms.

I even bought some “meditation cushions” in pretty colors with golden threads that sparkle in the sunshine and I AM NOT EVEN GOING TO FEEL GUILTY about how that makes me happy nor will I waste time apologizing for it like a whiny person who doesn’t know how to enjoy herself like I did in this stupid blog entry yesterday.

And I’ll totally set my bare pussy and ass down on them during photo shoots so they’re a work expense, cockadoodledoo! I have some shoot planning to do right now since that’s on the agenda for tomorrow and Wednesday. I’m going to integrate those cushions right into some softcore porn. Anybody (including myself) who has a problem with me buying end tables or “meditation cushions” can go fuck themselves!! That’s right, even if I never spend a fucking SECOND actually meditating on those cushions, I’m not going to feel guilty about blowing $71.94 on three of them in shades of green, squash and wine. With golden threads, don’t forget.

Anyway, isn’t it more interesting to hear me talking about our purchases than to read a list of other things I did today? Like photoshopping my eyelashes and adding keywords like bodyshaper, control slip, foundation-wear, etc. to my archives?

I like pretty things. I do like MEDITATING on them. This site wouldn’t exist if I didn’t love the colors and textures and shapes and pleasure-giving qualities of things.

*****

Here’s a blurry picture I tried to take of a tree budding on Friday, March 2nd, the day after I first noticed new tiny green growths on a tree. Then I looked around and it’s happening everywhere! Spring . . .

What I would like to do much much much more than shopping is get out the good camera and just stumble around taking closeup shots of a bunch of different buds.

A nude demonstration this morning under a grey sky of the fun I had yesterday under a blue sky:

I did some clean-up in the yard, like cutting down and pulling out blackberry and blackcap vines. I was surprised how sore my muscles got from this activity; my arms and shoulder and chest feel like I got in a real workout, partly because of the stretching up high and far away and deep down, but probably mostly because our loppers are rusty as are most of our garden tools. Neither this house nor the last one we lived in has a garage or much storage space and we haven’t wasted money on one of those plastic yard closets or storage lockers, so after years of being wrapped in tarps outside or just left out, they’re pretty fucked up. We can still use them, but it’s harder. Hence the extra-sore muscles. I’m not complaining though because it’s fun free exercise.

I actually feel kind of bad about cutting down so much of the blackcaps – they’re yummy, they attract birds, they’re not as invasive as the blackberries – but they distract from the other plants and we’re trying to prepare to use the yard as much as possible for shooting. And they reach out and grab your ankles and pants when you’re just trying to walk by them.

They don’t seem to make protective leather work gloves in a size small enough for my hands, so I often use the loppers to hold onto the vines and try to pull them out and move them to the discard pile. I still managed to scratch my face with thorns, though.

I also did some other stuff around the yard, like picking up limbs and debris that blew off trees during our stormy weather. I piled some of the branches up in places where I want the grass to die down.

I also stepped in one of the neighbor’s dog’s shit piles IN OUR YARD. RIGHT ON MY FUCKING PATH!!

I thought I’d located (and photographed) all of them after I made a tiny misstep, but then I wound up with a total stinky shoe-ruiner, like a wet cheap-dog-food messy pile my foot found that squished up on the side of my shoe and almost got into my velcro!

Yes, I have shoes that utilize velcro!

I decided to not be TOO mad about it, as it provided me relief that this neighbor and I are now fully fucking EVEN if she was bothered by me not-on-purpose flashing her or by all of the noisy sex H. Rugaru and I had when he was here. Okay, I was still “too” mad about it, as I scowled for at least forty-five minutes and even crossed the street to make a bizarre display of myself trying to wipe my shoe off, publicly swearing and muttering. Made even more bizarre by the fact that nobody else was actually outside to witness me sliding and stomping and dragging my contaminated limb around.

As long as we live in a society where polluting groundwater and other people’s private property with feces is viewed as friendly and the best way to show our love of animals, I’m going to feel free to grunt and moan and holler in the middle of the night and run around naked like a bozo during the day. SO THERE!

Also! If the reward for adulthood is having to tie and untie and tie and untie shoelaces, then we simply don’t deserve technology!!

Still wearing the same coat and sweatpants as last year (and years before), but with a vibrant emoticon!

Ahhhh, but here’s a nicer message:

Some more pics from our walk & stuff:

Wild rose bushes in winter.

Thorns, black stars & vitamin C.

Snowy evergreens & deep untrodden snow.

Delia snapping pics of fir cones with her phone.

The cabin, as seen from inside the house this morning:

The cabin, trimmed in snow & icicles.

I’m snug inside there right now, as a matter of fact.

I have problems. I just don’t see things in front of me before I ram my head into them. Tonight wasn’t the first time. It’s hilarious to walk around with bruises on your head (and shoulders – I often run my body half into door frames; I guess they just don’t make the door-holes big enough for me) but it makes me feel really stupid.

To make myself feel better I ate over half a pound of ground beef in the form of tacos that Delia made (so yes – 4 flour tortillas . . . plus tomatoes and cabbage, but that doesn’t count as crazy). I’ve been comforting myself with food a lot these days/again which is fucking my brain up more.

Then I got so so so sleepy that I couldn’t keep my eyes open to finish watching [insert shameful reality show name here] and begged Delia to come up into the cabin loft to read and watch over me while I napped/to wake me up later “in case I have a concussion”. She humored me and it felt SO GOOD to have the light on and her next to me awake. Sometimes that’s the best feeling in the world to me, to be safely with Delia while she watches tv or reads and I pass out knowing everything’s okay and I’m totally taken care of feeling her right next to me.

Agghh, my stupid aching head!

This here shelf is really fucking hard. I’m surprised my forehead didn’t split open. I want to blame it on my short height that I sometimes don’t see these things before impact. Yes, I was reaching down below for the Charmin Ultra Strong, because you know it’s THE BEST even though I think it might be too abrasive for my peehole area.

Watch your head, dumbass! Ultra-strong, NOT Angel Soft.

I don’t know how I would have gotten through the past few days without crisp blue skies and full bright moons.

Red berries & blue sky in our backyard

It’s supposed to snow Saturday night and maybe Sunday. And maybe Monday. I’m kind of excited about it. It will be our first snow living in this house (though I was already renting the cabin last year so experienced snow in part of this space myself). We got our propane tank refilled so we’ll be set after we stock up on more terrible junk food for me to eat. Wait a second! It *has* snowed while we’ve been living here . . . I forgot! But that hardly counted . . .

I just posted a 20 minute vlog I recorded earlier today for members. Also: I had a really peaceful and pleasurable webcam show this morning – thanks to those of you who joined me!

If you want access to my video blog entries, spycams, group webcam shows, picture galleries and videos, BECOME A MEMBER HERE!

I probably would have watched the Super Bowl today but we don’t have regular tv. So I went for a walk wearing my backpack rattling with toy cars and a camera. And gnashed my teeth and cursed at how many loud people were also out walking around.

small brown car on dark green adventure

Delia bought a bag full of toys for our nephew at Goodwill, including a bunch of toy cars. I love things-in-miniature, and toy cars always appealed to me as being of a quality and heft other toys were not. All that metal. Paint that really chips and rusts. Little wheels that make the cars roll. Trying to look inside there, imagining a tiny person hiding in the back seat. Maybe popping his head out and making the window steam, looking back at big ole’ you.

So I was going to take the cars into the woods and drive them on tiny primitive roads I created myself on hands and knees with my hands and twigs and pressing the car into the dirt and needles until the mud wells up around its wheels. Parking them in little hidey-holes, little under-trees, special fern-homes. And making little short porno pieces to go with them. Like the one for the land rover was going to be about this chick getting stuck deep in the woods with a rich pretty boy and his useless fancy SUV and how she punishes him with a shiny socket wrench and other things for not being able to extricate them and not even packing a picnic lunch. But we need a better lens. One that actually DOES close-ups. Because this one doesn’t so I can’t get as tight and intimate with my toy cars as I want to and fuck it I’m not sure I really even want to write those stories anyway.

But I had fun taking pictures anyway and pretty soon it was quiet and I could see and hear and feel things without needing to tune other things out.

spider, spiderweb, wet ferns, blah blah blah

One thing I’ve learned from making porn — spending so much time behind and in front of a camera — is that there is no honest witness and pictures do lie. My whole life and longer people have known that images can be manipulated but we still cling to this weird popular notion that there is ONE TRUTH instead of that truth is subjective. By moving a tiny bit to the left or right or around, the spider web is either there or NOT-there. You can change everything with dials and light and how big or small you make the slit that your eyeball sits behind. Photographs don’t prove SHIT.

red lips and white teeth in bunker

I’m running out of steam right now so I deleted a bunch of this entry because it was too many paragraphs of crazy-talk and I knew I couldn’t sanitize it tonight. So yeah . . . there’s more lurking around the corner, as always.