Yesterday morning I ran a few errands.
When I got home, I knew I was going to do some cleaning.
I also wanted to gesso several art journal pages so I can make more Bad Art over the weekend.
(Gesso takes several hours to dry. I wanted to prep some pages ahead of time.)
Gesso is messy.
Cleaning is messy.
I put on old, really ugly, skin-tight, cleavage-popping, very cool (temperature-wise), super comfortable, clothes.
I tied my hair up in a messy knot to complete my horrifying “look.”
I wasn’t planning on seeing anyone other than Fred for the remainder of the day.
Fred loves me no matter how I look.
I was elbow deep in gesso when I *thought* I heard a faint knock on the front door.
No one EVER knocks on my front door.
Yes, people DO ring the doorbell.
No one ever knocks.
I was pretty sure I was mistaken about the soft knocking sound so I kept right on gesso-ing.
(I’m pretty sure “gesso-ing” is not a real word.)
Again, I heard a very faint knocking.
This time Fred barked.
Fred has never once barked at a knock on the door, or at the doorbell, or at anything other than canyon wildlife.
I hastily ran to answer the door.
In case my attire and messy hair weren’t bad enough, at this point I had white gesso all over my hands and up to my elbows.
It was The Bug Man.
The Bug Man who is supposed to call before coming by to kill the scorpions, black widows, etc.
My Bug Man isn’t on a regular schedule.
He comes by seven times during the year.
I do not know.
Anyway, I told The Bug Man I would keep Fred indoors so he could do his thing in the backyard.
Then I closed the door and ran as fast as I could to the backyard so I could bring Fred’s toys, water bucket, etc. inside.
I didn’t want any of Fred’s belongings to be exposed to the bug spray.
Awhile later Fred began barking to tell me there was a stranger in the backyard.
I let Fred know it was “ok,” and I praised him for telling me.
(Fred does NOT like The Bug Man – they had a bad encounter one time.)
I bent down to give Fred a big pet and hug.
That’s when I noticed The Bug Man at the back window just STARING in at me.
When I looked up, he looked away – embarrassed.
I promptly realized I was giving quite a cleavage show when I leaned forward to hug Fred.
Or, maybe, The Bug Man was actually staring at my odd appearance … white gesso hands, messy hair knot, overflowing cleavage, old clothes and all?
Or, maybe, it was the combination of the boobs, the odd outfit, the white gesso on my hands and arms, and the enormous “beast” I call a dog?
Fred and I might make for an odd sight?