Saturday, August 1, 2020

The latest.

Photo copyright Aji, 2020; all rights reserved.

The latest (one of many, actually, but who's counting?). Wings is building a giant planter box for me for an area behind the house where we used to plant wildflowers and some medicinal herbs, mostly. The chickens have taken it over, and there's no planting anything there now that won't be dug up in a heartbeat. And while the drought (and a late-June freeze) put all of this year's planting way behind (and now over, essentially), I can use it for fall items like garlic and then (we hope) the flowers and plants we want there next year.

Also, the pups have run us ragged several times over already. So far, it's looking like Talon and Tusk are winning out, probably mostly because my hands and wrists and feet and ankles are in shreds from their needle teeth and tiny little razor claws. I can't even get up to go into the kitchen without them trying to ride my feet in the process. I've had . . . maybe an hour's worth a sleep, maybe an hour and a half, but at least I was not the run who got stuck with clean-up duty in the middle of the night. They got into Cricket's food dish last night before I could get it away from them, with, about eight hours later, predictable results. The crate is washed, the blankets and rugs and toys are all soaking, I even Nature's Miracled the tile beneath the crate, and the two little beasts have had their second bath. 

They look so innocent when they're sleeping.

In the meantime, there's still the work, and I am now SO far behind on this week it's ridiculous. As I said yesterday, thanks to y'all, and you know who you are, we'll make it out of July and on into August in one piece. Wednesday afternoon, I called and paid the two insurance premiums that have bedeviled my every waking moment this month, and we'll be okay. January and July are just . . . ugh, every year (I mean, April's not great, either, but that's one of the reasons July is bad; quarterly taxes for the next year).

Which is not to say that we don't still need to bring in sales; we absolutely do. Time was, we used to make at least one small sale a day, on average. Even after we closed the gallery and switched to a nearly-all-online model, we generally averaged a sale a week. Now? The economy, such as it is under the Orange Nazi, has killed most of it. The pandemic killed what was left (for us, and for everybody). And I feel like every day, every hour, every moment has to be spent chasing sales just to bring us . . . not close to even, but at least not quite so far below where we would normally be by now.

So. As I've been saying, if you have discretionary funds that you want to donate? Please pick someone who is unhoused, or whose position is precarious enough that they could soon be unhoused. Rent's due today for an awful lot of folks who don't have it. Failing that? Someone who needs food, needs to take a child to the doctor or pick up a scrip for an elder. Someone struggling to keep the lights and the water on, or the gas tank filled to get to and from work. 

But if you want to BUY? Specifically, if you're in the market for what Wings creates? I'm your girl. I will sell you anything and everything from his inventory, and if you want to commission something special, I'll arrange that, too. But he's got some gorgeous new work already posted. New piece just the other morning, here. Two brand new and purely phenomenal works from the other day, here. Lots of other new works, too, cuffs and earrings and one new necklace. So please continue to share the links, because we do still need to make regular, consistent sales to get through what's left of this terrible year. They're here:
[Also, the wishlist is back in force. There are things I absolutely cannot get except through Amazon, and I can't add that stress onto all the others now.] Please share everything. Thanks.



All content, including photos and text, are copyright Wings and Aji, 2020; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.

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