August in Texas pisses me off. I'm a hothouse flower, mind you, and the heat normally doesn't bother me a bit. But August is different. August makes me want to shave my head, get naked, and run around screaming "FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU!" to everyone and everything all at once. August brings out the hermit in me and it's not uncommon that I ( Read more... )

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I'm back, but posting privately for the most part. Summer's been great so far. I've got all sorts of crazy projects going at once and, as always, it seems that there are not enough hours in the day to do everything.

My dad just gave me an old behemoth of a truck that I've decided to paint a mural onto. I have to thank harley1456...if I'd never met Al or ( Read more... )

For any of you who want to play the roller derby version of Where's Waldo.

Can you spot me?

Summer's the best. Having a great time. Wish you were here.

Love,
Cate

My hands are dirty. Sometimes digging in the dirt and planting things is the only way to feel better about everything. There's too much going on in my head and heart to make sense of these days, so I put agave and aloe into the ground around my little house. I planted prickly pear and cholla, Brazilian mallow and sunflowers. I scattered ( Read more... )

I can't believe we're already bouting again this Sunday, but here are some pics from our first bout on March 19th. I was so pleased with how things turned out. It was definitely a success for us, coming together in less than a year!! The skating was good. We're all still learning, but I was really proud of everyone and I felt like we'd made ( Read more... )

It pains me, as much as it is a great relief, to find that I am becoming more and more practical when it comes to affairs of the heart. That great cold winter taught me well. Taught me that I can get through breaking even my own heart to do the right thing when I realize that it needs to be done. The ending of things still has the inevitable ( Read more... )

This time he was leaving. He’d gone about doing it in his head often enough. He imagined next weekend without her, how he would tend his garden and flop into his hammock with a good book. His spirit, compressed from folding over itself again and again according to her needs, would slowly spread and take root in the bare patches of dirt he ( Read more... )

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