greenhoused.

i've got a whole lot of windows in the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress,
but one room in particular is winning the most-glazed award by a landslide.
mmhmm.
with a whole wall of floor to ceiling see-through glass-housed hottness,
the super-long and extravagant sunroom, is the early april greenhouse jauns.
that's real.
so,
while the snow is still piled high on the lawn,
and there's snow still presently predicted to fall down upon the woodsly goodness,
i've got my own south x southwest facing framework standing tall,
and heating up,
well ahead of the great northern bud-and-sprout season..
that's a thing.
for example,
while everything else is figuring out what season it is,
my sweet peach tree is in full-bloomin' fresh-to-death full force,
and that's in F*ing full effect.
check the born-to-blossom-type teleport:

yeah!
nature wins,
and apparently, she can't wait around for spring to get here out of doors,
so there's plenty of flower-power every hour INside.
expert!
i like that i've got trees in my house.
i think that's a good look for a man's righteous fortifications, no?
c'mon.
peaches and hammocks and all sorts of twining vines laced along
the winning windows of the warmest room for three out of four seasons!
i appreciate growing things, neighbors,
and i appreciate that i've got time and space for them to flourish and flower
here in my distant domain.
that's what's up-
woodsly warrior poetic garden goodness within,
white mountainous wild woodland magic without.
the last lonely outpost of awareness and intention before the necktard north
assumes complete control.
*
and just how did i spend my friday night?
turning screws.
uh-huh.
what?
no!
i wasn't repairing things, or being manly......
what are you?
an A*-hole?
i just got finished gushing about peach blossoms,
and you think i'm gonna tell you about the small engine rebuild
you somehow think i might've followed that up with?
that's ridiculously unlikely at any time.
don't be dumb.
....i was building an aluminum triceratops.
because that's the only reason i'd be choosing a literal wrench
to while away my evening.
it's a pretty rad little abstracted model, in my opinion,
and i'm pleased to add it to my collection.
check the three-pronged-ceratopsian-type teleport:

woohoo!
neat-o nerd business is invited to my house for all the big funtimes.
at least,
if by big funtimes you mean me making a metal dinosaur and putting it in
my bathroom alongside the other thirty or so relatives i've collected this last year.
mmhmm.
teleport:

see?
that's that sexxxy bookshelf activation, made even sexier with MORE triceratops.
word.
***********
i won't say my day was unrewarding,
but i will say the triceratops was the highlight.
conclusions are welcome to be drawn from that.
it's cover-up tattoo time these days at the studio,
and as usual,
when people need solutions,
they seem to think i need their problems.
maybe they're right?
after all,
i'm the one jam-packed with crap attacks day in, day out,
one after another after another and so on.
i almost forget what blank skin for tattooing even IS anymore.
hard styles, and those figurative wrenches,
are all that awaits me this weekend.
more of all of it, happening and echoing,
recurring, relapsing, regressing, and repeating-
those movie checks sure don't come easy, kids;
never quiet, never soft.....