winter pickle.

winter pickle is disgusted with winter.

the groundhog promised him an early spring,

but that groundhog (filthy, hole-dwelling beast) LIED.

the extended winter & icy conditions have forced winter pickle into donning an additional scarf. he is contemplating long underwear. have you ever seen a pickle in long underwear? it’s a truly pitiful sight.winter_pickle_cartoon


saturday swine.



goblins, quests, and my gentleman.

You may have seen his photo on here before.


html_codingHe also founded/contributes to/works on this:

rotary house experimental – it’s his awesomely creative publishing house.

you should investigate.

This clever & handsome gentleman and I officially met at work, but it wasn’t until a work happy hour that we actually spoke to one another. We didn’t start speaking regularly until one day soon after, a group of us were walking to lunch and Matt noticed I was purposely avoiding walking on the storm drains.

cartoon_storm draincartoon_storm draincartoon_storm draincartoon_storm draincartoon_storm draincartoon_storm draincartoon_storm drain

{Matt didn’t yet realize it, but it was only a matter of time until he succumbed to my charm. and overactive imagination}

Several weeks later, Matt had lunch with a friendly squirrel named Jerry. Jerry is oh-so-much more than just a squirrel – he is in charge of protecting the portal which leads from our world into the squirrel kingdom.

black_squirrel{look at his golden tail – serious business}

Obviously, Jerry guards the portal for a reason – and over the next couple months, the truth came out. Our worlds are on the brink of an enormous goblin/squirrel war, and Matt and I had been recruited to help.

First, however, in order to make sure we were worthy of entering the portal and joining the squirrels in their fight, we had to complete quests of Jerry’s choosing. Jerry would meet with Matt, and pass along important quest details: maps, locations, objects to find. The two of us would then traipse off, clutching our maps and lists, off to find and defeat goblins.

Once, as we were trying to collect goblin currency, we were attacked: Matt brained a goblin* with a rock and I stabbed it with a tree branch.

{*Matt would visit the pre-determined location beforehand and plant paper goblins in bushes or trees, then be ‘surprised’ when we discovered them hours later. He’ll never admit to it, though : ) }

goblin_drawingOur outings were serious adventures.

On our first actual date, we drove around for hours on a warm summer night. Matt’s plan was to get lost, and get lost we did. We had a lovely time – peering out the car windows into creeks we drove past, looking for frogs with a flashlight; stopping at an old horse farm to investigate their hollow pillars and horse statue; finding old dirt roads to drive on under the moon. It was fun and silly and romantic.

I started writing this post about a month ago, and the original ending was this:

The rest – well, the rest leads us to today, several days past our seven month anniversary, and we are┬ácompletely, enormously, head-over-heels happy.

that’s not the end of the story.

on the very day I started writing this post, January 21st, Matt and I had a date night.

A very special date night.











a squirrely greeting card.

I like making my own greeting/thank you/wedding/happy baby cards, but sometimes you find one in a store that you can’t possibly bear to leave behind.

This is quite old news now, but I found this card just before Dani left for Senegal, and it was so wonderfully appropriate I couldn’t resist. Behold, and bask in its squirrel-y glory:


Immediately, I realized all the possibilities for my own handmade cards. An illustration of a squirrel won’t suffice now, no, not that I could have it dangling from a STRING with a life-size 3D acorn. Oh, the amazing world of squirrel art … friends, expect good things from your birthday cards from now on. HINT: they may or may not have tails.

saturday swine.

Our little saturday swine is of a pig species known as lux bulbus porcus or, more commonly, lightbulb pig.

saturday_swineIt’s rather easy to see where this name was derived. Notice, if you rotate the swine counterclockwise, his resemblance to the ordinary household lightbulb.

saturday_swine_lightbulb_cartoonyou learn something new everyday.

winter pickle.

winter pickle is miserable with this burst of frigid weather. he’s been so cold, he’s had to bundle up heavily, taking off his earmuffs and replacing them with a woolen hat, wearing boots, trying to fit mittens onto his little hands.


poor thing. what’s a pickle to do?

an emphatic t.g.i.f.

It’s been QUITE a long week.


We hope you escaped unscathed. It’s time for a drink.

(This was supposed to be a self-portrait, but something went terribly wrong)

train vampires.

I was on the train the other morning, riding to work. The woman across from me was balancing her bag, papers, and a laptop. She’d set a travel mug on the floor between her feet. When the conductor came around to look for tickets, she began frantically rummaging through her bag. As she was looking for her ticket, she accidentally knocked her travel mug over, and I leaned over, picked it up, and set it upright on the floor again. She thanked me.

All of this is very normal.

What wasn’t normal was that my fingers came away sticky from where they’d touched the mug – and when I’d been setting the mug back on the floor, I’d noticed that the rim was red, like she’d been drinking juice. Or blood.

The second I thought it, I became obsessed with it. I thought, no, I was convinced the woman across from me was a vampire. I started watching her closely (not at ALL creepy), waiting for her to open her mouth so I could see her fangs. I tried to discreetly look at the mug again. I wished I had a mirror so I could point it her way and see if her image reflected back at me. I was so occupied with these thoughts that we arrived in DC in no time, and I hastened off the train before she could sneak up behind me and bite my neck.

What if vampires take the MARC train? What if sunlight doesn’t affect them the way legends and Twilight portray? What if they are walking among us even now, working at regular jobs, drinking blood from their travel mugs?