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breeden
ursulav

(no subject)

Had a dire allergy attack yesterday. Snorf. Something must have bloomed. Did not get to the Claritin in time to stave off the histamine reaction. Functioning at very low capacity, I crawled out to the chiropractor (who again did not offer to fix my non-back ailments, but did suggest that eating dairy tended to aggravate allergies in a lot of people, something I've heard before, although I maintain that a life without cheese is not worth living) and then out to the art supply store to get a new sketchbook (having filled the old one with cryptic squiggles.) It's a stopgap measure, because they didn't have any really GOOD sketchbooks, so I got a cheap 24-pager and will make time to go out to the Good art supply store and get a Real Sketchbook later. (Or at least a niftier one, since my sketchbook is more of a recording of random midnight thumbnails and coffee shop doodling these days, now that I do all my sketching in Painter.)

Then I came home, managed to scrawl a crude thumbnail for "Digger" and went to bed in sinus-pounding agony. And slept for most of the day, got up, tried to work, moaned a bit, went back to bed. So yesterday was pretty much a total loss--through sheer willpower, I finished off one page on the lifecycle of the happy frog from its beginnings as a mostly neutral egg. (If I had total editorial control, I would include a grumpy tadpole, but the tadpoles have to be quasi-realistic, so my hands are tied.) I have until Tuesday to finish the rest, and it's a damn good thing that I worked like some kind of art berserker on it last week, because this week has been plagued with health problems. For someone like me, who is generally as healthy as a horse and has no opportunity to pick up anything contaigious since I work at home, this is galling. I mean, I know us home workers oughta get our sick days too, but there is a distinct measure of guilt that never accompanied sick days at Real Jobs, when I mostly was thinking "ha! I hate the office! Go, strep!" Difference between a job and a career, I suppose.

Still, the end of the happy frogs is in sight! Only three and a half pages to go!

breeden
ursulav

(no subject)

Had a dire allergy attack yesterday. Snorf. Something must have bloomed. Did not get to the Claritin in time to stave off the histamine reaction. Functioning at very low capacity, I crawled out to the chiropractor (who again did not offer to fix my non-back ailments, but did suggest that eating dairy tended to aggravate allergies in a lot of people, something I’ve heard before, although I maintain that a life without cheese is not worth living) and then out to the art supply store to get a new sketchbook (having filled the old one with cryptic squiggles.) It’s a stopgap measure, because they didn’t have any really GOOD sketchbooks, so I got a cheap 24-pager and will make time to go out to the Good art supply store and get a Real Sketchbook later. (Or at least a niftier one, since my sketchbook is more of a recording of random midnight thumbnails and coffee shop doodling these days, now that I do all my sketching in Painter.)

Then I came home, managed to scrawl a crude thumbnail for “Digger” and went to bed in sinus-pounding agony. And slept for most of the day, got up, tried to work, moaned a bit, went back to bed. So yesterday was pretty much a total loss–through sheer willpower, I finished off one page on the lifecycle of the happy frog from its beginnings as a mostly neutral egg. (If I had total editorial control, I would include a grumpy tadpole, but the tadpoles have to be quasi-realistic, so my hands are tied.) I have until Tuesday to finish the rest, and it’s a damn good thing that I worked like some kind of art berserker on it last week, because this week has been plagued with health problems. For someone like me, who is generally as healthy as a horse and has no opportunity to pick up anything contaigious since I work at home, this is galling. I mean, I know us home workers oughta get our sick days too, but there is a distinct measure of guilt that never accompanied sick days at Real Jobs, when I mostly was thinking “ha! I hate the office! Go, strep!” Difference between a job and a career, I suppose.

Still, the end of the happy frogs is in sight! Only three and a half pages to go!

Originally published at Tea with the Squash God. You can comment here or there.


breeden
ursulav

(no subject)

There is a caterpillar on the doorframe leading out to the deck (on the outside.) He is about an inch and a half long, dark, with snazzy yellow racing stripes and some orderly paired yellow spots (more of interrupted stripes) along his back. He is not fuzzy, but has some fleshy spikes, a black head that looks rather insectile, and black, somewhat kinked antennae. He has eight sets of legs--three in front, four in back, and a sqodge of tail that may or may not involve limbs.

I cannot find a photo of him on-line in the "Caterpillars of Eastern Forests" site, and don't know of a field guide by color, and the lighting's in a bad spot for me to get a photo. Lacking any notion of the family, wading through dozens of moth guides sounds a little alarming. Anybody have any notions?

Update: And thanks to trishtrash below, we have identification! He is that nefarious pest, the orange-striped oakworm!

I'm supposed to squish him to save the trees, but that would involve getting caterpillar gunk all over things. Erk.

breeden
ursulav

(no subject)

There is a caterpillar on the doorframe leading out to the deck (on the outside.) He is about an inch and a half long, dark, with snazzy yellow racing stripes and some orderly paired yellow spots (more of interrupted stripes) along his back. He is not fuzzy, but has some fleshy spikes, a black head that looks rather insectile, and black, somewhat kinked antennae. He has eight sets of legs–three in front, four in back, and a sqodge of tail that may or may not involve limbs.

I cannot find a photo of him on-line in the “Caterpillars of Eastern Forests” site, and don’t know of a field guide by color, and the lighting’s in a bad spot for me to get a photo. Lacking any notion of the family, wading through dozens of moth guides sounds a little alarming. Anybody have any notions?

Update: And thanks to trishtrash below, we have identification! He is that nefarious pest, the orange-striped oakworm!

I’m supposed to squish him to save the trees, but that would involve getting caterpillar gunk all over things. Erk.

Originally published at Tea with the Squash God. You can comment here or there.


breeden
ursulav

(no subject)

Slug-Training
http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/9956756/

breeden
ursulav

(no subject)

Slug-Training
http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/9956756/

Originally published at Tea with the Squash God. You can comment here or there.