Gazing at the Constellations…

A portrait of my favourite dragon, Stargazer.

I did it in Photoshop Elements today. I cheated by having the photograph on a bottom layer as a guide, but the actual painting (by mouse) is mine. It’s a bit rough, but it all takes practice.

Stargazer says his dad was as big as the container lorry in The Transporter. I’m not sure what I’ll do with him if he grows that big.

Dragon Anklebiter

I was going to post this a couple of days ago but got such a headache I went away from the computer. I think too much white on the screen (or pale colours) have a bad effect on me, but aren’t always the primary cause. Unless I sit staring at them too long. Anyone else find that?

Geosomin posted this a few days ago about the claim that women love shopping because our ancestors were ‘gatherers’. I passed that snippet to Mum, and she said “no, women love shopping because they were hunters!”

I would love to say I don’t love shopping, but I suppose I do. I have a frightening number of dreams about shopping. But I don’t go ballistic about it; I don’t have a cupboard full of tottering shoeboxes, or racks of never-worn (no, wait a minute, we won’t go there!) But I know I don’t have the piles of clothes and shoes that other women have got in the habit of buying.

Bears, OK, but I don’t buy as many as I used to… most of the time now I walk straight past them, and buy a Dean Koontz paperback instead.

The thought of shopping nowadays just depresses me, because I know I don’t have room for anything new, I don’t need anything new, and I’ve seen what the local shops have and I don’t expect them to have anything new either. Ennui has set in.

For a while I was getting perfume, but stopped after I obtained my favourite few (plus bonus bottles from Mum) as I knew if I bought too much, I would never manage to wear it all before it went off.

Who could resist this little cherub, however?

Click image to view more clearly!

He was sitting in a basket of cheap teddy bears in Cancer Research, and I saw him on two or three separate visits. I kept picking him up and giving him a little squeeze, and finally Mum snatched him from my grasp and marched him to the till. She said to her friend (the volunteer at the till), “is this mad?” and her friend said “pretty mad!”
But if she knew the whole of it, she would be sending round the men (and women) in white coats.

When we got home, Mum passed me a note saying she was going to a certain coffee shop the next day to meet her friends, and did I want to accompany her? The dragon read the note carefully, then said “what’s this coffee shop thing?” and Mum said “only people are allowed there, not dragons.”
“They used to allow smoking,” I said, “but don’t any more.”
“Oh,” said the dragon, and opted out of the trip.

Today he was watching adverts about the necessity to quit smoking, and said sadly that people must be trying to stamp out dragons.
“You’re too young to smoke, anyway,” said Mum, and the dragon said “but all older dragons smoke. What will I do when I get older?”

Then some adverts came on for stuff to smear on your skin to get rid of spots, and he said that was people trying to get rid of spotty smoky dragons. I think he’s developing a bit of a chip on his shoulder… don’t you?

I’m still trying to think of a name for him… suggestions welcome!

It Spoke to Me

The other day I noticed a little figure sitting on a rock, gazing at me, so I picked him up and took him home. I couldn’t leave him in the charity shop, could I? Especially as he was only 50p.

On the back of his rock is etched the legend ‘C.L. Penny Designs’. He’s delighted to have his picture put up on a blog – nobody’s ever blogged about him before. He will probably sit and stare at it all night when I’ve gone through to watch Battlestar Galactica. He’s probably looking at it even as you are.

I wonder what is the last little thing you couldn’t resist taking home with you? Anything like this?