After the grocery shopping debacle that morning, her good mood had soured and gained a downward run that she knew would not improve. Her shopping cart wheel had given out in just the right spot coming off of the curb in front of the store letting everything in it simply fly, full force, into a passing car in the parking lot.
After completely re-shopping, off of her crumpled receipt that had a piece of old chewing gum in it, she hurried home in an attempt to unload before her youngest child awoke from a very brief fake nap.
Driving home, the officer did not appreciate the narrative she reeled off as her excuse, giving her a speeding ticket anyway.
Once home, groceries unpacked and children playing, she tried to find solace in a piece of chocolate cake that she had reserved on top of the microwave the night before, only to discover that the cat had peed on the front of the microwave. And yes, she had already eaten the cake when she discovered this bit of information. It had been one of those days!
When she walked into the room to check on her children as they played, she was certain that she heard her 5-year-old say to her Barbie doll, “You #@*ch!”
In shocked horror, the stressed out young mother began to let loose with a scolding lecture regarding language. Looking up from the dollhouse in confusion, her daughter asked, “Mommy, if I can’t call this a bench, then what am I supposed to call it?”
Perspective!
I so want to go back to having the perspective and imagination of a child, without all the grown-up things that derail the good stuff.
That’s a perfect world, which this is not, but the beauty of the human soul is that it can learn, recover, forgive, and grow.
Just the other day, from out of nowhere, came a happy memory of one of my favorite toys from childhood, my Hippity Hop! I was born on a farm and aside from my horse, my favorite toys were ones I could ride on. I have many memories of bouncing around the yard and pasture on that thing, and boy it must have been made of magic rubber because it never sprung a leak, that I can remember.
When I thought on it a bit, I realized that for the life of me, I cannot remember whatever happened to my favorite toy. As I pondered this, more memories of toys that brought me joy came to mind. Some of them came to tragic ends, as some toys do, when we are too hard on them or just don’t take care to protect them. Others, however, I quite honestly cannot remember what became of them.
It occurs to me that people are kind of like toys, in the sense that we sometimes, for whatever the reason, lose track of people that we once loved and held dear. Sometimes I feel like the child, and at other times I have felt like the toy! Instead of this thought leading me, or you for that matter, into the negative, I want to share an insight with you.
I have a soft spot in my heart for those little old fellows that own huge pieces of land simply teeming with old things…some rusted beyond repair, while others may yet be restored and reused. The point is that they simply refused to let go of anything that might one day be saved. They never stops loving and dreaming about bringing the beauty back to those old things. It doesn’t really matter if the old man ever gets them restored. I am just encouraged by him always hoping and dreaming.
I am so glad that God will never get tired of me! He will never forget that I am there, or nudge me aside with His boot. God never stops believing in me, no matter how damaged or dinged up I become. The Masters hands are always mending, rebuilding, and restoring me to how He sees me…His own!!!!!
I have been sitting here, staring at my own idle fingers on the keyboard, and watching the little clock down in the corner of screen. It is now almost 7:30 am, and I have been sitting here since just before 5, but I have been awake since 2. All my life, sleep and I have not been very good bedfellows. Whether it is a bad dream, or maybe just an overthinking mind, some times I feel like it is more frustrating to try to sleep, than to just get up!
I think that more times than not, getting up and writing out what’s going on, brings me peace. The sad part is, even after I write and feel better, I am still pooped. I might as well keep writing, because I cannot go back to bed until tonight, or I will mess up my whole sleep cycle.
So, what has kept sleep at bay for me? I’m glad you asked. Well, let’s see now, I think it started about 3 or 4 days ago. Have you ever had times where you just feel like you are invisible? Like there are so many souls moving around you, but eyes are vacant? I had come home from an activity that was packed with people, and I should have felt happy, but climbing in to bed that night, I honestly felt like not one of those people would ever remember my name or even my face.
No harm no foul…no one did anything wrong, I simply mean that I felt like it was just a bunch of souls all caught up in their own stresses and struggles that most were just too exhausted to really try to make any real or enriching connection.
Anyway, I just felt a bit deflated, as I rarely stray far from my home to interact with anyone, and once again, it was just an unfulfilling attempt at connecting with others. I’d been feeling that disappointed ever since going out, and just couldn’t seem to shake it off. Then something happened that brought my attention front and center! Sometimes, it’s the little things. This little thing happened to be a knock on our RV door, only the next evening.
When I opened the door there was this girl, just standing there looking at me with a look that I cannot explain. It was enough, though, to draw me completely out the door and down the steps to speak eye to eye with her. I am going to share some things with you, and you may make your own suppositions from there.
I cannot say how old she was, but my best guess was late teens, early 20’s but that’s the best I can do. When I first came out the door, she had a cigarette in her hand and asked if I had any more. I explained that I’d given it up a ways back. She immediately put hers out, gently picking up the cigarette butt and placing it in her pocket. I remember asking her if she was alright, but here is where things get fuzzy…
What I thought she said was, “You are just like me, you know what its like, right?”
The young woman’s voice was so small, I had to lean forward in order to hear her better.
She pointed to my husbands work truck and said that she stopped at our home because maybe we could give her work. My heart ached for the girl, as I had no easy answers or fixes. I gave her directions of where to find shelter and food, but I just felt like that was no consolation.
Then I just thought, I See You!
And, well, my dinner was sitting right inside the door. I begged her to stay there while I went and gathered what I could. I truly thought she would be gone when I got back, but she’d waited. I found her still rooted to the spot behind the truck where I’d left her… patiently waiting for my return.
Please don’t judge me, but all I had was a cheese sandwich and some sliced watermelon. I felt stupid. She looked up at me with such a grateful smile, it seemed as if I had given her a steak from the Outback, or something. She accepted the food, thanked me sweetly, and simply disappeared. I haven’t seen her since.
Looking back, I have pondered a few things…
First of all, at no point did she ever ask me for money. In these times, we all just expect it! They are going to beg for money. Usually, if you offer them anything other than cash, they’ll just take off. She did none of those things. Could she have been a drug user, an alcoholic, or maybe a prostitute, possibly? Does it matter? Should it matter? I don’t think so. I feel like God was telling me to just give and let Him worry about the rest. Why does my ability to share anything God gives me, hinge on whether I think it is deserved. Not sure that’s in the Good Book, anywhere!
Secondly, I have been stymied by her statement about me being just like her and knowing what it was like. I have gone back over it in my mind, and I am now not even sure she actually said it.
Did I hear her say it?
Did God say it in my mind?
She could not know of my cultural origins… I am not even sure what I am!
She couldn’t possibly know that I spent many years of my youth on the streets, just like her. How could she know what I’d sacrificed to stay alive. No one does fully, myself included, because survival instincts sometimes require us to block and/or forget that which was needed for the surviving.
For most it may seem trivial, but for me… I am left feeling like God brought someone directly to my door, because He knew I would answer. I am not tooting my own horn in all this, trust me. I’m telling you about it, only because it was a major shift from my own tendencies. The old me from my upbringing was quite rigid, stubborn, distrustful, and willful. It took a lot of confidence and faith in my spiritual growth, for God to send her my way.
Was she the reason I’d been called in from the wilderness by my Father?
God’s been the only one with the power to draw me in! Honestly, I would prefer staying away, out of self-preservation. I have a tendency to find more comfort and solace in the desert than I do around society. The difference in my life now is the willingness to go in any direction God calls me to.
Sometimes, we don’t even have to go anywhere in order to serve God’s purposes… He brings them to us!
Sometimes, our kids say the darndest things. Yes, I know that phrase has been widely used, but I am still going to use it though. If we think about it, the blatant truth of all the things our kids say, would be a catastrophe if we grown ups said them out loud. I guess this memory is the closest example I can give to prove my point.
Out of the mouths of our tiny human replicas, come some of the most jarring, yet accurate truths! While it can sometimes be embarrassing and/or even upsetting, we cannot fault the little truth detectors. As they have no clue regarding protocol or appropriateness of word usage, they are innocent of any malice. Just unadulterated truths that we grown ups learned how to keep zipped up.
Our small protégé are also emulating many of our own beliefs and attitudes, whether we wish to admit this or not. Monkey see monkey do, and our kids often reflect our behavior. But they often reflect to a greater extent, when they blurt out things we have said in the past. We were unaware they were mentally recording us. Childhood also does not come with a full understanding of what, or why grown-ups say and do the things they do.
While talking with my brother-in-law the other day, I was reminded of a funny situation back when his girls were little ones. When my husband and I were first together, he took me to visit his brother and family. It was wonderful to spend time with them, and I instantly fell in love with their daughters. These two girls were so sweet, and very bright for their young age, so I was enthralled.
On one of the mornings of our stay, we all sat around the breakfast table visiting and talking about this and that. When my husband mentioned that I was a photographer, the girls got all excited and asked to see my pictures. I pulled out my laptop and loaded up a file of my recent pictures, taken along our journey across the states to visit them. Somehow, I had a picture in the file of a woman I had done some work with recently. The girls were watching me scroll through the file, and when the picture of the woman appeared, the oldest of the two girls made two consecutive statements, one right after the other… without even a moment’s hesitation.
The first comment could possibly be classed as a reaction verses a statement… she exclaimed, “Oh My!”… and right on the heels of that, she declared, “She’s Hideous”!
I am not sure what was funnier… watching the girls mom turn three shades of red, and immediately try to correct the child, or my brother-in-law almost choking on his food, while laughing hysterically. I wish to point out some very important things to note here. One thing to note here, is that the woman did indeed have a unique look about her, and another note was that the child looked at her parents with some confusion… the tiny truthteller had simply called it like she saw it. She was not being mean, but rather, trying to describe what she saw on the screen. It did not help that my husband was laughing just as hard as his brother, and I was laughing so hard that tears were streaming down my face.
Those girls were probably so confused by the grown-ups, they had no idea what to even say sorry about, or if it was ok to laugh with us or not. At the time, I sucked it up and sided with their mom, as I understood the ramifications if the outburst was not squelched then and there. They could have ended up getting kicked out of daycare for being cheeky. On the other hand, they were not my responsibility in the morality and respect departments, that job belonged to the parents. I found it absolutely Haylarious!
I will end this memory with two observations. One of which, is the fact that the child new without a doubt, what hideous meant and she used it properly. When I was small, my older sister blurted out in the grocery store check out, “John, you are so illegitimate”! He was trying to read the cover of the magazine on the rack, and she thought to say illiterate. The second observation I have made all these years later, looking fondly upon those two girls all grown up. Not only did they turn out to be very bright and beautiful woman, both have their mothers sensibilities as well as their fathers sense of humor… guess which parent they heard the word Hideous from… I wonder.
I don’t often like to see into my own childhood memories, as they are precarious at best. But for you, my friends, I have courageously looked through the curtains of the past that most often obscure my view. I have learned that we must take the good with the bad, as far as memories go. Haven’t we all had to make peace with our past, in order to walk forward towards a better future?
This particular memory arose out of the oddest sort of recollection. My husband brought home a watermelon the other day, and that sounds normal so far, as I am sure this behavior occurs within homes across the globe, nearly every day. Things played out typically for us, just like most, until the moment my eyes came to rest on the label stuck to the side of the watermelon. On the sticker were the words, “Grown in Hermiston Oregon”. I do not often come across the name of my childhood home, and the last place I would have expected it to be, was on a piece of fruit.
For several moments, a cacophony of strange emotions floated briefly across my heart. When I encounter these things, I usually set them aside to process on their own… I have learned not to rush into things willy nilly. In this way, I dismissed the strange feelings and carried on with my day. For several days I truly forgot about the sticker.
Yesterday, as I was working on a story about two squirrels, a memory popped into my head, and the squirrels were momentarily replaced with the memory of a cat.
I had forgotten about this cat for many years… until yesterday! In the past I would have slammed the door on this part of my childhood immediately, as it has always brought an overwhelming fear. I have learned in time, that I can view my past without fear or shame, but rather, with clarity and grace; both of which are great navigators, along the pathways of our hearts.
I do not generally slam these doors anymore, as I walk a better path now… a healing path. While I will look at my memories, I have not ever written down a good one where my father was in the same story. This morning was different for the first time. In this memory will be the first written work I have ever done, where my dad is going to get his moment, but not like you’re thinking. And another surprise I have for you is that you’re going to laugh and walk away very happy. Let me show you…
His name was Leroy! We named him after that song, Bad Bad Leroy Brown! From birth, this cat was crazy about me, and at the same time he was mean as they come… he stole my 7-year-old heart. Another thing about this cat… he hated my dad!
This was not a passing fancy, a tiny dislike, or even a mild aversion to the man… Leroy was always planning the old man’s demise, I think. This cat would destroy my dads’ things, and only his. Leroy would intentionally pee on his clothes or in his boots, and every day from the moment my dad came home, the cat would stalk him and seek to bite him at every opportunity. Guess where Leroy slept at night… hehe… with me! At one time, my dad got so mad at the cat, he shot him! Leroy disappeared into the woods… but he lived! And he came home! My dad was so mad, but a little scared too, I think. He left the cat be, and pretended he didn’t care either way.
One day Leroy did something that set my dad off, and he loaded the cat up and drove him across the county, dumping him at a friend’s barn. We were devastated by the loss of our Leroy, and for some unknown reason, this was one of the few times my mom ever displayed her emotions. She went off!! By the time she got done yelling, my dad was sheepishly driving down the driveway with an empty cat box on the passenger seat. My mom made him go all the way back down the road and retrieve our cat from that barn! When that old station wagon pulled back into the yard, we all came running out of the house in excitement. The first thing we saw as the car door swung open, was our cat Leroy climbing slowly and leisurely from my dad’s lap. The next few moments are some of the most precious memories I hold of my dad with my cat…
The man looked like he had been attacked by a weed wacker! He was covered in cat scratches and bite marks, and Leroy peed and poo’ed all over his lap. My dad barely got the cat inside the box he had brought along, and Leroy broke free as soon as the car ride home began. Our station wagon never smelled the same after this escapade, by the way. That cat kicked my dad’s hind end for the full 20-minute ride from that barn. This twelve-pound feline lived up to his name that day. Let me tell you…
Loosely written from the Lyrics of the song,
He was my Bad Bad Leroy Brown
Maddest cat in the whole darn town
Badder than that ole shotgun
Meaner than that Junkyard hog (I would never insult a dog)!
What I wouldn’t give to have been an observer in another car, or even walking on the side of the road, as that station wagon drove by. There is for sure someone out there, who witnessed my small hero, scratching the life out of my dad all the way home! It is very true what they say, that many times great heroes come in small packages!
That Cat Ruled!!!!
***No animals were harmed in the making of this episode, and each of the stunt cats were given their wages in delicious fishy treats, as well as, numerous bags of fresh catnip!***
Wasn’t I just writing about how many holidays there were? How funny is that?
I would have preferred that WordPress ask me about one or two holidays, rather than lumping them all together. Why?
Because, holidays, the main ones at least, are vastly different from one another, and each carries its own significant meaning, traditions, and ceremonies.
If I were to attempt in sharing my celebratory habits for each of the holidays that I recognize, we’d be here til the cows come home, as they say. And, not only that, but we’d never get to the cookies that I leave down at the bottom of the page!
I suppose at the heart of it all, it doesn’t really matter which holiday anyone chooses, as long as they are celebrating with friends, family, and loved ones, ya know?
That means YOU, just in case you weren’t sure who I was referring to. I may have inadvertently given that secret away, with all the “Hugs”, the bucket’s of cookies, or possibly all the Monday Messages harassing you for Christmas lists.
I guess I could say that all that effort put in with idle threats, affection and sugary bribery is my way of celebrating the holidays.
Now, some might not agree with my list being a valid form of Jolly activities, but it bothers me not! You know why?
Because, just this last Sunday I made my first successful Gluten Free Banana Muffins… and they tasted good! In all good conscience, I shouldn’t be serving you cookies that I haven’t tasted myself, first. How am I to know if you’ll like them?
I start my holiday celebrations for November and December, here, right now. I know that it’s only September, but I need the time to practice, taste, and even sample what I wish to offer you during the holiday season.
So, what does all this blather mean? Let me shorten it up a bit…
Can you believe that we’re already halfway through September? Summer is rapidly dwindling, as the cooling winds of the fall season begin transforming the lush green foliage to all those differing shades of glorious reds, yellows and golds.
I think that it should be a law that the moment the fall arrives, everybody has to put their Christmas lights up! Well, think about it for a moment! There’s far less lighting in the fall and winter months, so it would make things far brighter.
I think Halloween and Thanksgiving can still do their own thing, but just work around the lights, that’s all.
I mean, come on. All the stores put all their holiday products on the shelves at least two months before the actual holiday, so I say we fight back!
From the moment the stores start piling up candy and pumpkins all over the place, we should all put up our Christmas lights as an act of defiant solidarity!
Maybe I want to celebrate Valentine’s Day in December on my birthday, I don’t know. That way I might get an actual gift. Honestly, I feel sorry for anyone who is born on or near a holiday. Everyone just figures they can do a twofer… no fun! I am praying my granddaughter is born on or near my daughter’s birthday in November, because her due date is the day after Thanksgiving.
Also, why can’t we just combine Mother’s day with Father’s day and just call it Parent’s Day. You know, I asked Google how many holidays there were. First of all, it has to break them down into categories. That should be our first clue that we humans have far too many holidays, memorials, tributes, Month long celebrations for nearly every nationality out there, and special events commemorating this or that! Seriously, we should really think about extending our 365 day cycles to like 600 or so, just to really have recovery time in between parties!
Remember watching Little House on the Prairie, when they would celebrate Christmas? They gave each other handmade gifts and items needed for survival, and they didn’t have cars to drive to and from their festivities… they had to risk life and limb to travel through the wilderness in six feet of snow, just to bring gifts!
I don’t know, in a world where time waits for no man, as they say, we sure do have a lot of time to waste on all these “pat yourself on the back” parties. Now, I’m not saying that everyone behaves this way, so don’t go there! I’m simply basing my findings on what I see, hear, and experience from where I’m sitting. You wouldn’t believe the immense pressure that is put on folks living in poverty. It was so humbling for me to attend my daughter’s baby shower on Saturday, with no gift to offer… nothing.
Of all the things I’ve ever done wrong in my life, the people I’ve hurt, and the pain I’ve caused others, namely my children, God tells me I did something right. You know how? In the character of my children. My youngest daughter, who turned 30 this year, pulled me aside, and produced a gift for me to give her sister. Maybe it was for my sake, or perhaps it was her sister she was thinking about, but I don’t suppose it really matters.
Why am I rambling on about all this silly nonsense about too many holidays and celebrations? First of all, everyone is already seeing the stores gear up for cavity night, so I know you are feeling the beginning birth pains from your wallets… and the parties haven’t even started, yet. And, secondly, because I am fairly confident in saying that many of you already purchased holiday items for this year, but at the close-out after holiday sales from last year. Don’t panic, nobody will call you out on it, most of all myself. I get it! A bargain is a bargain, am I right?!
I suppose that I wanted use this mid-September Monday Messages just to start prepping you for what’s inbound for these upcoming months, so nobody can say they DIDN’T HAVE ENOUGH NOTICE to get me their virtual Christmas list, which seems to be very difficult. This will be our third Virtual Christmas, and I have plans! So suck it up, Buttercups, and get it together!
I mean it!
If you don’t, it may spoil the whole thing. I know I’ve probably said this in the past, but this time, I’m being fully serious! I have some major surprises, not to mention my third installment of Tilly and Santa’s adventures. Oh, and there’s so much more, but I can’t say a thing, yet. So, now do you see why it’s so important that I get your lists ahead of time. I need time to put everything together.
So, your jobs… virtual Christmas lists mailed before Thanksgiving, and, show up for the party on Christmas morning. Last years idea of a bag of puppies was exhausting! I had to hand deliver most of them, since there were too many absentee guests… holes in the corners of my couches, poo doo on the floor, and somebody peed on the Christmas tree, shorting out the lights!
So, if a puppy is on your list… you better show up this time, or it won’t be charcoal that Santa leaves in your stocking! Tilly has quite a bit of influence with ole Saint Nick, seriously. If I were you, I wouldn’t risk it!
Today must be one of the laziest days we’ve had in quite some time. Honestly, I didn’t realize how good it would be to get back to the barnyard. There isn’t much better of a feeling than sleeping in your own bed, after a long time away from home.
Eustace was invited to a company retreat, so I’m not exactly sure what he’s doing, just this moment, but I can hear snores coming from the porch, the barn, and my upstairs bedroom. It seems that everyone around here is sleeping in, this lovely Friday morning. Everyone, that is, aside from myself.
While I might not be able to enjoy coffee anymore, I still love to sit in the still of the morning, with a good cup of tea. It’s so quiet, aside from the wind in the trees or the occasional birdsong floating across the meadow.
Well, I should say that it’s usually very quiet. As for this morning, it’s a fair bit away from being the normal serene calm that I’m used to experiencing. Funnily enough, I’m not bothered in the least from all the snorts, mumbles, and growls calling to me from every corner of the barnyard. In fact, I find it rather comforting, like a warm blanket on a winters day.
Snoring babes means happy babes, as far as I’m concerned. Life at sea has it’s benefits, but when it comes to rack-time aboard a massive ship on the water… well, you never know if you’ll wake up in your bunk, or on the floor, what with rough waters and high winds!
Take Osrig, for instance. He barely came out from under my bed while on the ship, but now that we’re home, he rarely comes in the house. His favorite spot for napping is just outside the kitchen window, on the porch…
Honestly, I don’t know that we’ve ever seen him so happy and relaxed.
Speaking of seeing someone happy, oh my goodness, you should see miss Tilly! Well, you can’t actually see her, right this second. She woke up when I did, begging me to help her pack a basket of fruit for young Henry, and his family. She left straight-away, headed for the river where the two lovebirds often meet. I don’t suspect she’ll be back til this evening…
Ahhhh, young love! Something tells me that she will be spending a great deal of time with her sweetheart’s family, which I am glad for. Tilly has grown up right before our eyes, and in such a short time, it seems. Besides, Henry spends a lot of time here with us, as well. I’m thinking of inviting them all for Thanksgiving dinner. There’ll already be an army of ants, from Lilly’s kin, and Squagon has invited family members from both his Acorn and Pinion Valley clans. The more the merrier, I always say!
Well, my tea has gone cold, and my tummy is shouting “Oatmeal… Oatmeal… Oatmeal!” I best get busy making breakfast.
Oh, yeah… and it’s FRIDAY, everyone! Have a blessed weekend… hugs
Thought #1 – What would the world become, if whenever one says or does something hurtful to another, they experienced the exact emotional pain that their victim felt?
Thought #2 – What’s a baby dreaming of when they smile, or even laugh out loud while sleeping?
Thought #3 – My oldest daughter was a sleep laugher, a sleep talker, and a sleep walker. Nothing scarier than waking up in the middle of the night, with a five year old child standing beside your bed, staring at you in the darkness… it’s creepy!
Thought #4 – I shall truly miss you, Bacon, but if you won’t go on a diet and become less salty… well, it’s not me, it’s you!
Thought #5 – I miss pizza!
Thought #6 – Maybe I should visit an actual tea shop in search of something other than peppermint. I’ve tried peach tea, which was gross tasting after the first or second sip. Many years ago, someone invited me to a full tea service lunch, and they served this tropical sort of coconut flavored tea that was divine! Maybe this flavor should be investigated further.
Thought #7 – I wonder if my granddaughter will have light or dark hair?
Thought #8 – It’s settled! I am truly loving my self-crafted pixie haircut!
Thought #9 – Good Grief! How is it that we can look so old on the outside, when we still feel young on the inside?
Thought #10 – I miss that kitty so much! Gidget was her name, if I recall, and she was the loveliest long-haired Calico I’d ever set eyes on!
Thought #11 – It’s funny how I can’t remember things like my favorite grade school teacher’s name, or much of my childhood years, but I can remember the names of every pet that entered my life… from the beginning. My mother’s poodle Buttons, my first cat, Leroy Brown, my first pony, Candy, and our old Mule, Jack. Then there was my dog Rags, an Old English sheep dog, and our twin white cats named Nip and Tuck. One had a black tip on his tail and the other a black tip on one of his ears, but otherwise they were identical.
Thought #12 – Wow! This is a rabbit hole that could consume the whole day, and I simply don’t have time. The list, so far, has only been in the first 8 years of my life.
Thought #13 – Maybe I should write a short story for each of my Furbies, one at a time, just to relive those joyful memories.
Thought #14 – I don’t think that money changes people… maybe it just brings out who they really are on the inside. I’m fairly good at being poor, but will I be as honorable of a person if given better finances?
Thought #15 – My thoughts lead me back to scripture…
“For I know the plans I have for you,“ declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” Jeremiah 29:11
I took the initial image that I’d begun with several months ago, combined it with some of the newer images, and asked the AI to create an updated version of our little troll.
These are the first images that were offered using the new character, asking for Peanut to be exploring a pirate ship, and suggesting that he wear a blue shirt and denim coveralls…
While Peanut looks rather cute, I wasn’t pleased with the AI’s freedom with changing up the shape of his face, willy nilly. The ship also looks as if it were crafted of either Lego’s or Lincoln Logs… ewww! No thanks!
I went back to the texting suggestions and asked that it give me a photorealistic image, only to be offered these next images:
Still getting images of a toy boat! If need be, I can always remove the background later, or place Peanut in an entirely different image. Some days I get lucky with the first image, but other days cause me grief, but it is only AI and it’s only as good as it’s user! Though Peanut is rather cute in several of the shots, it’s hit or miss as to whether he’s skinny, chubby, or plastic looking.
The funny thing about the AI, is that it remembers. When I have those really good pics, I put a star on them and keep them in albums. My guess is that Norbert (I named the AI) can remember the images I liked, the ones I discard, and any changes I’m asking it to make. Over time, Norbert is able to create successful images without nearly the amount of failures as there were in the beginning.
So, I starred a few and asked for the same thing, but gave Norbert more freedom for creativity. I only lowered the slider bar about 5 percent, but was rewarded with a few much nicer images. Keep in mind that I’ll be transferring the little guy to a far more impressive pirate ship…
So, we know that Norbert is getting better at showing me an adorable troll, but what’s with the hands and feet? He either has too many fingers and toes, or they simply look like they belong on a doll. Luckily, I’ve a draft board that allows for correcting things like facial expressions, and/or mutated body parts like those ridiculous hands and feet.
First step, make Peanut look less plastic:
Not perfect, but much better, I think! Now to fix the ship…
However, that level of editing is not as easy as it seems. I spent over an hour with little to no success. This will take a bit longer than today’s post, so bear with me. At least Norbert, our AI, is becoming far more agreeable to preserving Peanut’s key features, so there’s that!
Stay tuned til next Tuesday’s Tinkering for the final Peanut, as well as, the reveal for our final ship naming ceremony. Hopefully, I shall see you there…
Journey With Me! 