A nazi, riding a rather well hung t-rex

So, this happened.  I had no plans to make this, but as Isaid before, this garden project is all about spontanious bursts of creativity.  In face, soon as Ican get this last bed done and rock in, I'm off to another project.  A clay oven, but that will need to wait till this damn busted ankle of mine heals.

Like I said, this happened. 

It is Friday afternoon, Im at the grocery store waiting for a perscription to be filled.  Bored, I found my way to the toy isle looking at the plastc toys.  Nothing really making my creative radar go off.  Anyone else have this happen to them?  You could look at a dozen amazing, innterestng things in a day and not feel it, but then there is that one thing.  Could be an obscure object or perhaps an object you have never seen before and BAM! The ideas just begin to explode in your head.  For me, it is like seeing not the object, but rather seeing a myriad of lines, connecting the object to other objects or modifications, each line interlinking to another element, till you dont see the original object anymore, all you can see is what is will become. 

Sculptors talk about how they do not carve the stone into the shape they want, but rather they see what shape the stone wishes to be and work to free it from the stone.  Ihave yet to have the experince of looking at a solid object and seeing what shape it can be deconstructed inito.  I'm more of a, how can I build upon this kernel and expand it?

Wow, got metaphysical there for a sec huh?

Like I said, this happened.

Tossing aside the plastic safari animals and various dreck in the grocery store toy section, I was about to give u when we spotted it, a T-rex.  Next thing knew it had be being ridden by a Nazi.  This is a both an homage to game I love, Hollow Earth Expedition, as well as a long running joke amonst my friends. 
Rather than melting the army man's legs into position, I opted to just cut off his torso as well as a few of his squad mates, and glue the bits back into a relative semblance of a body in a saddle.  I've painted a few pewter gaming minatures so I know Ican make him look appropriatly Nazi enough for the garden.
Thing about my sense of humor? Good laughs always come in threes. Like my last piece, you had tentacles, in a garden.  Funny, but not enough, it needed something more. Another ironic element.  Hence, a tentacle, in my garden, fighting barbarians.  Hence, the giant penis.

Like I said, this happened. 
A sex toy reviewer frend somehow got thier hands on a number of tiny, silicone fantasy dildos.  Don't ask.... trust me.

Only real issue I had with this was attaching the penis.  Seems silicone and hot glue do not mix.  Not to worry, I just drove a scre into about where I thought a T-rex might consider his taint and used wire though the said tiny, fantasy dildo.  Plus side? The dino cock is now articulated, if I ever felt the need to pose it in different positions?

Once I see how well it fairs the rain, I'll see about some detail painting and maybe making another one.

The plant is is guarding is broccoli rab, a sort of cross between traditional broccoli and a field green.  Never grown it before, but it looks tasty.  I'm hoping to make something like kale chips with them. Mre info
http://www.burpee.com/vegetables/broccoli-raab/broccoli-raab-spring-prod000614.html

Permision granted

Ihad my first plants emerge last night.  A lovely batch of rubber tentecals I recently put in.  What, dosent everyone plant rubber tenticals in thier mourning garden?  Oh, I guess not, perhaps I should explain.

See, much like fight club, operation "Plant potatoes not coffins" had a few, simple rules.  Also, unlike fight club, my garden has a decided lack of half naked, sweat covered Brad Pitt in it, what is the hold up Hollywood, didnt you get my repeated memmos alreaady?

Rule #1, the proper response is "yes, and..."
Rule #2, the garden is here to nourish not just your belly

Oh crap, I went all wibbly-wobbly new agey on you there for a sec, sorry that happens from time to time now that I amm spending more time on this project.  I'm sure it is some kind of alergic reation, probbaby can get it covered with some allegra or other such over the counter medication.    Still,  what does this have to do with the tentecals you ask?  I'm getting to that bit,  be patient while I see if I can squeeze a few more bad puns out of this train wreck of a blog posting.

First rule, always say yes, and.   There was never a doubt that I'd opt to add some funky,  personalized flair to my garden.  The real question is will I have more flair than flowering plants?   The tenticals came from an afternoon in the dirt,  trying to reuse some very old and eroded timbers.  Upon seeing the cliffs and ledges exposed when I turned the timbers over,  my first thought?  Little green army men.  Yep,   some plastic soldiers should be standing watch,  or better yet mounting an assault against another tiny,  pressed plastic  foe.  Aliens?  Cowboys?  Mormon missionaries perhaps?

Upon convince ingredients my wife that we just had to visit the Archie Mcviees story.  If anyone had tiny Mormons,  they would be it.   As fate would have it,  they had nothing.  Nadal.  Zip.  Nothing even army man ish....

Perfect.

Instead of sticking to an existing,  all be it silly one,  I gave myself permission to just go with the flow and trust that whatever I would eventually find, would rock.   So that is where I found the bucket of tentecals.  Unsure just how I would go about using them,  I took the leap of faith and got them.  Giving myself full creative licence to use them or not.   My only design requirements were that it should be cool to look at and bring some laughter back into the universe.  

There is more on this thought to discuss.  Let us return to it as I build more such opportunities for humor.

Hand me back the conch, I still have something to say

When I first started writing this journal, the goal was 2 fold. Firstly im a storyteller,  Ive been borring anyone who would sit still long enough to listen with crazy stories about growing up on a farm or spending my teens as a missionary with the weight of someone else's prophesy that I was to grow up a "powerful man of god". So many stories that my wife beggged me to commit them to some kind of archive.  The second reason I took up the bloggers virtual quill? Well there was this girl.... then again, how many great creative endeavours were launched in the hopes of catching the attention of the opposite sex? Hmm? What is that you ask, did it work? We will be celebrating 9 years together soon, so yeah I think we could chalk that up as a win.

Fast forward now  what has it been? 8 no, 9 years.  That little rope company Istarted up in my garage now employees 4 full time bodies.  Oh and that wide eyed, "gosh I am just this guy who makes rope.." idealisim?  Well yeah, it has become a tad tarnished around the edged, but then again being the biggest dog in the room tends to do that.

However, this is not about bondage or even sex, what you ask?  A blog about things OTHER than someone's emerging kink and path of discivery to al things covered in shades of gray?  Yeah, not so much.  Right now, right now I am going to write a lot about my garden.  Yes, oh how the mighty have fallen, the oncegreat and  powerful Monk has beenreduced to blogging about tomatoes and just how far he will go in order to see them bloom in this town.  Seriously, you have no idea.  I think I'd take up starting another buisness from the ground up over trying to get some decent hierlooms to bloom. 

Where the fuck do I begin?  Hell with even trying to be linear, lets just get going already. 

The garden is codenamed "Project plant potatoes, not coffins" and was a response to learning that my uncle had recently died.  While Ihave never been super close to my family, that happes when your father and oldest brother disown you and compare you to the likes of hitler and that dude from helter skelter...but that is a tale for another day.  

My uncle was the youngest of thesiblings, the cool one.  The one whose pristine collectionof Hustler Magazines would be soiled by our grubby, curious hands.  Side note, years later he woud tell me that all I should expect in the will from him was his collection old Hustlers, everything from issue #1 to the most recent, save the ULTRA rare ones that my brother and I pilfered as youth.  "If you would have just told me, Icould have hooked you up, but nooooo," he would kid, you had to make off ith the grace slick issue AND Althea Flyntt!"

Mourning is a funny thing, after the death of my brother 4 years ago, Ibuilt a huge art installation.  Mind you, Idid not set out to do that, I just hae the worst timing in hstiry and his death would happen unexpectedly while Iwas in the early days of building. 

This time arround, no "art" and no sex.  Well you could argue that gardens are pretty sexy, but no, I want this to be something simple, a focus on putting life into the world, after so much has been taken away from it.  And so, here it sits, stage one planted and complete.  Less than 10 days since committing the seeds to soil and we have life emerging from the thick, black soil.

Returning to familar ground

While the digital record of the story that is my crazy, wonderful and sometimes horrifying life has sat dormant.... life, as it tends to, has not.
You have been all so patient that me asking for another moment or two of yours seems greedy, even for me, but ask I must.  A few moments more, dear reader, is all I ask. It has been far too long since I shared a tale with you all, and dear lords do I have some to share now.

Soon, I promise.
Monk