Okay, I’m still ironing out how to link Instagram marketplace, but the site is ready to go if you weirdos want a look. hollybraffet.com
Friday, April 29, 2022
Tuesday, April 26, 2022
Studio sale
There have been some subtle red-flag behaviors happening, and my internal warning system says it's time to ramp up my efforts to handle the household on one income, just in case.
Also there is Zenny’s surgery coming up, I broke the dresser, and now the stove is on the fritz.
There was an episode of Top Chef where they had to cook on stoves like mine, and they all cried.
So it's time to get my shit together and sell some paintings. I'm putting together a studio sale this week, and if it works out alright, it will become a regular thing. (I redid my website and added a store.)
What I’ve got listed so far
I’m nervous nothing will sell. I’m nervous everything will sell and they’ll all want refunds when they see how much cat hair is in the varnish. Social media marketing is a nightmare. I'm just going to do it and pretend it's great and that cat hair adds artistic value.
I made my usual joke about how I can’t take her anywhere without birds falling out of the sky onto her head, and on cue a cardinal shot out of a bush and went straight for her head. She ducked. I don’t know how they know.
Monday, April 18, 2022
Easter 2022
Saturday, April 09, 2022
things happening and not happening
It will surprise nobody that I was not chosen to attend the PLA conference. Evidently admin was looking for someone with work ethic and career goals to represent our library system.
That is the last time I try to win a popularity contest with sing-song animal noises. For a while.
I was, however, selected for jury duty. That still counts as a field trip away from work, so I'll take it.
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Grandfather-in-law died this week. While the man is in New York for the funeral, I am solo-parenting - which is mostly the same as regular parenting, but with relaxed nutrition.
Actually, the real difference is how the tension in my chest loosens, like when the dryer shuts off and you're shocked by the silence. I have learned not to examine that feeling too closely, though.
On the way to school, Zenny and I found a baby mynah in an open field. There were no nesting trees close by, and no parents looking for it, so I picked it out of the grass like an angry Easter egg and drove across the island to ditch it with my mother, the wild bird rehabber.






















