Crystal Fullerton Fine Art

"Muffin"- My "don't mess with me" ewe lamb

I finally had a day that was all planned out and supposed to be my return to heaven. My studio.

I got the door opened. That was all.

I spent the morning catching up on the odds and ends of life, psyching myself up for a full day of paint fumes, creativity and old blues tunes.

What I got was a phone call at 12:10 from Dave asking me to bring the truck into Admiral auto glass for a new windshield.

And oops, the appointment was at 12.

Can you hurry?

What planet was that man born on????? I am lounging around using the comfort of my own home to peruse the joys of the Internet and do correspondence. These things do not require the application of make up or undergarments designed to help fight gravity and the effects of childbirth. I was enjoying my "Au Natural" look. It requires no time to create and is totally functional in the studio.

It is however NON functional in polite society. So quicker than you can mutter "vote" I get dressed in semi suitable clothes, slap on the minimum amount of warpaint needed to be presentable in public and trot of to town where I am assured I will not be even an hour.

The Fullerton time defect. There is a defective gene in the Fullerton DNA. It makes the whole family (I am a Fullerton by marriage lets remember that) prone to a drastic miscalculation in time. Things like judging the length of time it takes to burn maple syrup, when to appear at a wedding and picking kids up at after school functions all require the use of a watch. Not just the wearing of the device but actually LOOKING at it from time to time.

Comprehension of the little moving arms is usually optional.

In Dave's case his defect goes so far as for him to assume the length of time it takes to replace a windshield and using his VAST knowledge of such a repair job to sucker his poor wife into coming to town for a "quick trip".

Not once did it ever occur to the man to ask the owner of the repair shop for the actual amount of time required to properly install a new windshield. In the Fullerton time continuum those are trivial questions. Ones that never inconvenience the Fullerton but always leaves the wife smiling politely while suppressing the urge to throttle said husband as she hears about the minimum 2 hour application time.

SO the photo above is of my only ewe lamb this year. She is gorgeous, big and fast. She is also not a fan of humanity and likes to take tips from her mom on how to knock a human of their feet. The body block to the back of the knees is usually an effective manner to ensure extra bits of sweet feed land on the ground nearby. The look on her face is what I usually receive when I deftly step out of her way prior to her demolition attempt at my lower extremities.

It is also the same look I gave Dave when I realized that my afternoon of bliss surrounded by paint and canvas was diverted into a "wait in town while the ice cream melts in the trunk" look.

Do you think the man understands or is he misinterpreting that glare as a tolerant woman's attempt to be compromising?

We'll see how happy he is this weekend when he realizes that the kids can have friends over all weekend "cause Mom said it was OK."

By the way I am out of the house the weekend!