Wait. What? It's April?!
Forgive me haunters for I have sinned. It's been almost 6 months since I last had paper mache to pick from underneath my fingernails, four months since my last post and FOREVER since I last took in a horror flick. Ultimate sins of sins, I've taken up this winter with a steady obsessional diet of Jane Austen adaptions, Cary Grant and all kinds of thing uncharacteristically girly. Honestly, the scariest thing I've done lately is unload endless stock of frilly underthings in day glow pastel hues the delivery trucks dump off at work, but as April cracked itself open and the green and the flowers and the pollen unfurled, I found myself retreating to the basement constructing the skeletal beginnings of root cages, casting bones and brushing the dust off some DIY bell jar specimens I've been meaning to mount since last fall. All the more to ignore the encroaching swelter of summer and escape the horror of spore-sore sinus cavities. It's just like riding a bike, this. No matter how far I've strayed trying to find my niche in female retail and Edwardian-era romances (everyone has their dirty little secrets ya know) round about this time I'm back up on the horror horse, sketching crooked souled little jacko faces, stocking up on dollar store rope and duct tape and, this year, trying to figure how many hours and layers of seran it'll take to create a zombie farming co-op. Do you think the suburbs are zoned for that?
SO suffice it to say, mother natures not the only one with things brewing this spring...
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