ETC: More Artsy AND More Fartsy

So how's this for a set of unrelated circumstances perfectly designed to minimize my sleep:

• Last night, an old friend, whom we rarely see because he lives on the other side of the country, drops by unexpectedly. We get so caught up in our conversation that it's almost 2:00 am before we realize how late it is. But no worries. Sam's been sleeping in till 8:00 most mornings, so we can still count on a half dozen hours of solid Zs, right?
• No! That final set of molars decides to rear its ugly head and wake Sam up, irritable and in pain, at 5:55. And we're up! But he naps in the afternoon, so we can catch some shuteye then, wouldn't you think?
• You would be wrong, mon frere! There's a street festival happening in our 'hood, and of course a twelve-person experimental jazz troupe sets up stage less than a hundred feet from our house. Were they good? Well, let's just say that what they lacked in skill they more than made up for in volume and stick-to-it-iveness.

It's kind of a miracle, isn't it. But, like, a shitty miracle.

I'm so friggin' tired right now. I'm experiencing first-six-weeks-of-parenthood déjà vu. Old school. The thing about me and fatigue is that it makes me uncharacteristically clumsy. You wouldn't believe how long it's taken me just to write these few words, because I keep hitting the wrong keys. Also, earlier today I stubbed my toe quite badly, and I must confess that I dropped the F-bomb in front of an impressionable toddler. More than once. Loudly.

The other thing about me and fatigue is that it makes me stupid. But I'm not one to let mere stupidity keep me from posting. I'm the George W. Bush of the blogosphere.

But I don't want to assault some poor helpless book with my subnormal dribble. It seems to me that images can do a better job of standing up for themselves, so for today I'm going to let pictures do my work for me. (I've heard they can tell a story worth a thousand words. Can you IMAGINE?)

I've become a total Etsy addict in the past couple of months. I've ordered some cute handmade toys and tees for Sam, and lately my attention has turned to the many fine pieces of visual art for sale on the site. I've been bookmarking like a fiend, because that's what I do, and along the way I seem to have collected a little slideshow of prints designed especially to appeal to book lovers and assorted other word nerds.

And voilà:

I've always liked the idea of using pages from old books in collages and whatnot. From Etsy seller myfolklover's description of this piece:

This little girl is rather forgetful and has befriended a bird who has taken up home in her hair... to remind her of all the little things that she has forgotten! This is a print of an original ink and watercolor drawing on the page of an old Enid Blyton book. It is part of a series of original artwork titled "Remembering to Think of Things".

Everything about that description is just right.

I feel like this sometimes. Such as right now.

(In addition to artwork, this seller, curster, also has a bunch of crazy stuffed toys for sale. If this print speaks to you in a very special and ever-so-slightly creepy way, you should check them out.)

It's Story Time! But in a way, isn't it always story time?

Hey, everybody! Remember TYPEWRITERS? Me neither! But I like Typewriter Girl's mary-janes-and-striped-kneesocks combo so much, I can forgive her for having a dress made out of an obsolete technology. Also, it makes me feel better about the fact that I'm the last woman in the Western world still clinging to bootcut jeans.

Nobody ever thinks to feel bad for animals because they're illiterate, but how would you feel if that were you? Hang this little guy on your wall to serve as a daily reminder of just how lucky you are.