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  • a happy, ordinary, middle-aged, suburban woman who paints odd pictures, gardens in a straw hat, lives with the love of her life, is owned by one cat and the ghosts of several others, and walks a little funny 'cause she has a fake leg. She started this website because there's more to life than what we lose, and we need to let each other know what's possible, even if it's only a happy, ordinary life.

November 2011

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  • E-mail me at:

    sara at saraarts dot com

    Make sure the subject line of your correspondence is clear and specific. I do not open e-mails from strangers unless I can tell in advance that I want to read them.

Shameless Self- Promotion

  • I Took The Handmade Pledge!

Good reads, grownups only

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You know the prompt for this week's Sunday Scribblings was "competition." I think you nailed it.


Sognatrice, is that you?

That is a funny coincidence.


Too much many brain cells? All I know is if you move into a science building next to me, I am moving next door and no question - you need 12 bottles of compressed butane? Of course you do!

Is Santa supposed to part of "Natural Selection?"


Poor Tiny Santa. Years of therapy await him.


Elizabeth, I assure you I have no surfeit of brain cells; quite the opposite! And I doubt that I will ever move into that science building. I couldn't pass the math test, and besides, the Canadian government couldn't afford the necessary liability insurance.

For a better understanding of the kind of discoveries I'm making here, please refer back to the previous Mad Science Sunday entry, regrettably from two weeks ago already. Compare those images with these. Now, does this not look like natural selection in action?

"Poor Tiny Santa. Years of therapy await him."

If he survives, Laurie, if he survives.

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