Hope your week is going well. My plans for the day include painting this buffet and doing laundry. I live an exciting life, I know! :-)
Right now I'm doing the prep work on the buffet before I can paint it. Personally, I hate prep work, but it's what makes all the difference on the finished piece--and this baby's in bad shape.
Even though it is beautiful out, I'm painting inside today. One, because the buffet is too heavy to move back and forth and my garage is still too full of stuff to paint in.
Two, because if I spend much time outdoors I start to go a little nuts. Why? The invasion of the 17-year cicadas.
Now, if you don't live on the East Coast you may not have heard of this momentous occasion. These guys live underground for 17 years, and then crawl out so they can mate. After they mate, they lay their eggs in the ground, and die. The 17-year cycle begins again with the new eggs.
What a life!
I'd feel sorry for the little buggers except that their noise drives me buggy.
This isn't the sound of our regular Southern cicadas -- which to me marks summertime.
No, this sounds like the score to a science fiction movie. You know the ones from the '60's where every time they show the aliens you hear a high pitched sound that's supposed to scare you, and let you know they're not just friendly inter-planetary neighbors stopping by for a cup of coffee?
That's the noise.
Depending on where you live around here, you may just hear a few--or the sound can be deafening. We're on the deafening side of the spectrum. And I'm not even mentioning the wings and dead cicadas everywhere you look.
So if on my next post I start rambling nonsense. You'll know what happened.
The cicadas drove me crazy.
But if not, I hope to have a make-over to show you!