Oh, Sandy

I went to get my arm worked on Tuesday night, and as Sandy was kneading the knots out of it I realized I seriously need to find a way to record our conversations without feeling guilty about it or getting caught (although, probably if I don’t get caught, I won’t feel guilty, since that’s how it usually works, so there’s really only one thing I need to figure out). Since I haven’t done that yet, I’ll have to summarize today.

Sandy: “I had such a nice morning! I had no appointments until evening, so I decided to go out on my back porch and grill me some pork chops. While they were grilling, I decided to put some feed in the bird feeder, and wouldn’t you know it soon enough there was this squirrel sneaking around my peach tree to get at that seed…”

If you know Sandy, you know where this is going:

Sandy: “So I went and got my BB gun and I shot that squirrel. Then I thought, hm, I do have the grill going already, I oughta just skin that thing and grill it up. But then I decided that was too much work, so I got a Wal-Mart bag and put it in there and threw it in the trash.”

There was also a description of a tumor she had removed one time that, according to her doctor, looked like an octopus, but he “got in there and took all the tentacles out.” When Sandy told me that, I was face down as one is when getting a massage, with my face through the little pillow-hole where she couldn’t see me, so I was free to make the appropriate OMG face in reaction to this description. Which reminded me of how years ago, when I used to get massages from this massive, six-foot, two-hundred-and-something-pound Swedish woman named Elga, I would make the most ridiculous faces into the void opened up by that pillow hole while she mashed me into oblivion, and I used to think it would be a great photo series to stick a camera under that hole and snap pics of people while getting literally ironed flat like fresh linens by that woman (she injured me more often than she healed my injuries, which is why I had to quit going to her). Such a portrait series might even be better if the shots were taken while listening to Sandy’s stories.

No photos today – just wanted to share a little Sandy tale of squirrel murder. She did say that after she got rid of little Rocky’s remains and ate her pork chop, she went to “Mickey D’s” for her daily sundae, so at least the story has a sweet ending. And my arm feels great, so maybe I’ll edit some more pics tomorrow.The aviation museum shots, maybe?

Oh and in other news, I recently mentioned submitting more photos to Getty Images – and they accepted all but one of them! The new ones are included on my artist page. I had a feeling it would be easier to get these shots accepted than my movement shots, which I don’t think make very common or sought-after stock photos. But I am going to submit some more recent stuff, including, probably, that striped-dress levitation shot everyone liked so much. But I have to fill out model release forms for that stuff, which is a pain, so I haven’t done it yet. Until next time!

 

 

9 thoughts on “Oh, Sandy

  1. Now that’s funny! I can imagine the faces you’ve made! Poor little squirrel…lots of squirrels (and lots of other critters too) where I live and they aren’t any bother at all! Now the raccoons are a different story!

  2. Sandy sounds like a real sweet thing. Except if you’re a squirrel.
    Sorry for the typos on comments. Seems my phone has a different opinion of what I’m thinking. Yesterday I said models were jumping in a commercial from Macy’s it changed it to Mary’s. Oh well, modern tech.

  3. MM, You have to at least take your phone with you the next time you go and take some selfies while your head is in that hole in the massage table!

  4. I missed this somehow. Glad about the photos. As for Sandy and squirrels, they are pests but we cannot bring ourselves to kill or hurt them. We catch and release them but I am no fan of theirs, no matter how cute. They strip yards of flowers and fruit around here and we can ill afford that! Hope your arm feels better.

  5. Pingback: Rollercoaster | mareymercy.

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