A Little Bit Of This - And A Whole Lot Of That

A Little Bit Of This - And A Whole Lot Of That Whimsical, imaginative, and sometimes out of control, chaos.

At Imagination Station Art & Craft Supplies, Cindy Sue is proud to provide the Moab community with all their arts and crafts needs. She's got everything you need for your next creative project, with all kinds of paints, inks, beading supplies, and much more, all at competitive prices. If you’re a beginner looking to hone your skills, Cindy Sue offers classes that include alcohol ink painting and w

ire wrapping. She's proud to support local art, and there’s always art made by artists from Moab available for purchase in the shop. Cindy Sue loves getting to meet people in the community, and she looks forward to keeping your creativity flowing.

🐾 Anchor Chronicles: Morris the Boy and the Vibrating Ice Chest Morris the Boy thought he had discovered the perfect ro...
05/28/2026

🐾 Anchor Chronicles: Morris the Boy and the Vibrating Ice Chest
Morris the Boy thought he had discovered the perfect road-trip perch. Elevated. Strategic. Excellent visibility. Ideal for supervising traffic, monitoring suspicious activity, and generally inserting himself into everybody’s business. What he did not realize… was that he had climbed directly on top of a vibrating ice chest. At first, he froze. Not because he enjoyed it. Not because he understood it. But because his tiny little brain was suddenly trying to process: “Why is the ground aggressively humming beneath me?” And then came the confusion. His legs stiffened. His eyes widened. His entire body began lightly vibrating like an emotional support toothbrush. The poor little guy couldn’t figure out whether: he should jump, bark, brace for impact, or continue pretending he meant to do this. Meanwhile, there's Peanut, perfectly perched on her icechest that is behaving like an ice chest should. And we are laughing so hard we can barely breathe. Because Morris — committed professional that he is — kept trying to maintain his security position while slowly transforming into a tiny canine massage chair demonstration. At one point he looked absolutely convinced the machine had become alive. And yet… he refused to surrender the perch. You could practically see the internal struggle happening in real time: “This is deeply upsetting… …but I have responsibilities.” I've included the actual video for your viewing entertainment, I still laugh everytime I watch this. I love and miss the boy so much. He gave me fifteen of the best years ever. So much love and joy. He will allways be remembered with a smile.

He cracks me up.
05/28/2026

He cracks me up.

🕊️ Anchor Chronicles: The Olympic Figure Skater Back in the days, somewhere around 1979, when fishtank lights doubled as...
05/27/2026

🕊️ Anchor Chronicles: The Olympic Figure Skater
Back in the days, somewhere around 1979, when fishtank lights doubled as accidental cook stoves, one of my little cockatiels discovered — quite dramatically — that not every landing strip is FAA approved. Now if you’ve never lived with free-flying birds inside your house, let me explain something: Cockatiels believe they own the airspace. They zip around corners like tiny feathered fighter pilots, making emergency landings on curtain rods, picture frames, ceiling fans you forgot to turn off once and NEVER forgot to again… and occasionally, they make truly catastrophic decisions. This particular day, my little daredevil was doing laps around the house, showing off as usual. And then… He landed on top of the fishtank hood. Unfortunately, this was back in the era when aquarium lights were apparently powered by the surface of the actual sun. That hood was HOT. Not “warm.” Not “slightly uncomfortable.” Smoking hot. And suddenly the entire room exploded into chaos. Because the second his little bird feet touched down, he realized he had made a terrible mistake. But now he had another problem: He couldn’t stay still long enough to take off again. So there he was… doing what can only be described as: The Mexican Hat Dance of Desperation™ Hopping from one tiny foot to the other. Screaming and squaking:: “EEP! EEP! EEP!” Left foot. Right foot. Left foot. Right foot. Wings Flapping. And not going anywhere. Panicking. Screaming for help. Looking personally betrayed by physics. And I swear to God, he kept trying to gather himself for liftoff… …but every time he planted one foot long enough to push upward— “NOPE.” It was too hot. Back to hopping. At this point he looked less like a majestic bird and more like a feathery maniac competing in an Olympic figure skating event nobody asked for. I ran over and scooped him up, and even ON MY HANDS he was still hopping from finger to finger because those poor little feet already had blisters forming. So I did the only logical thing I could think of, and ran into the kitchen, and grabbed a couple of ice cubes. The kind you had to remove from the trays. Yes, I'm that old. And this ridiculous little bird, knew exactly what he needed to do when I put him near those ice cubes, he immediately climbed on top of them like he had just crossed the Mojave Desert barefoot. The RELIEF. The GRATITUDE. The DRAMA. But then… the ice cubes started sliding. And suddenly my injured cockatiel transformed into: ✨ Scott Hamilton of the Bird World ✨ Tiny feet. Wild eyes. Wings halfway out for balance. SWOOOOOOOP — across the counter he went. He rode those melting ice cubes like an Olympic figure skater going for gold while I stood there laughing so hard I could barely breathe. And the thing is… birds never seem embarrassed. Not even a little. One minute: near-death lava-foot crisis. The next: completely recovered, fluffed up, whistling, acting like I was the unstable one in the situation. Honestly, that pretty much sums up life with animals in my house. Pure chaos. Tiny heart attacks. Accidental comedy. And stories that sound completely made up… except every single word is true.

🦎 Tawny Boots Chronicles Chapter 3: The Underground Liz...
05/26/2026

🦎 Tawny Boots Chronicles Chapter 3: The Underground Lizard Movement
At this point, I am no longer entirely convinced the desert lizards outside my house are operating independently.
There are simply too many coincidences.
Too many “rescues.”
Too many suspiciously strategic appearances near my feet.
Honestly?
I think there’s a system.
Somewhere near the birdbath, under cover of darkness, I’m fairly certain nightly meetings are being held.
Tiny reptilian support groups.
Survival briefings.
Emergency extraction planning.
I picture one exhausted little lizard standing before the crowd like a battle-worn war veteran:
tail partially regenerated,
grass bandaids wrapped around tiny injuries,
other survivors listening nervously from the safety of the rocks.
And the speech always begins the same way:
“Listen carefully… if the beast captures you… DO NOT PANIC.”
Tiny gasps ripple through the crowd.
“I know she looks dangerous. Because she IS dangerous.”
At this point, all heads slowly turn toward the shadows…
where Tawny Boots is probably lurking behind a plant like a tiny striped mob boss running witness protection for traumatized reptiles.
“But,” the speaker continues dramatically,
“there is a kind human living inside the beast’s domain.”
A tiny hand raises.
“You mean the tall silver-haired one?”
“YES. THAT’S HER.”
More nervous murmuring.
Apparently, somewhere along the way, word spread that despite the chaos…
despite the screaming…
despite occasional accidental skirt incidents…
the human can usually be trusted.
And honestly?
Considering the number of lizards that have somehow ended up relocated safely back outside after direct encounters with Tawny Boots…
I’m beginning to think I’ve unwillingly become part of an underground reptile rescue railroad.
Meanwhile, Tawny Boots continues pretending she knows absolutely nothing about any of this…
while clearly running the entire operation from the shadows.

Tawny Boot's Cronicles: Chapter 2: He Was Hiding Where Meanwhile, Sal i...
05/25/2026

Tawny Boot's Cronicles: Chapter 2: He Was Hiding Where Meanwhile, Sal is still listening to my running narrative.
My phone had started out on the table while I gave him a full play-by-play of events as they were unfolding while I was on all four, under the table, I kept him apprised of mine and the lizards movements like some kind of live sports broadcaster covering The Great Arizona Humans vs. Lizards Games.
And listen…
Sal was good staying on the phone, he had survived the search for the square green plates. He's used to my kind of crazy. And this was crazy.
Since it was not his first rodeo. he happily stayed for the ride.
At some point during the chaos, I had knocked my phone off the table. As I'm scrambling around, not knowing where the lizard had gone, I told Sal I had dropped him on the floor and asked if he still wanted to hang on, things were getting a little wonky with the missing lizard.
Of course he did.
This was live entertainment. Who would willingly disconnect at this point?
I’m already laughing out loud over the absurdity of this.
But now…
The lizard had vanished. After it had run under my skirt, it had, apparently kept running, and was probably under the couch. That's what I'm thinking. Because. He is...
Gone. Just gone.
No movement.
No lizard.
No clue.
I shook out my skirt after my little twirl-around inspections. I checked the floor. Lifted my heels. Looked again.
Listen I had to be sure, I had stepped on one barefoot before. I was NOT about to step on one with shoes on if I could help it. I might have been a litte over-cautious.
I picked up the phone, scanned the room one more time…
And went back to the couch and resumed my conversation with Sal like a perfectly normal person. But, I was on the lookout, after all, the lizard was still in my house. And at the moment I didn't know where.
A few minutes later, as I am leaning back, getting comfortable, adjusting my legs, and straightened my skirt, because I’d been sitting on the edge of the couch stretching my back out, when suddenly I felt something un-natural:
tiny pokes, like really little needles, lots of them.
Light, pinpricks.
A swoosh of Scales against the inside of my leg.
Then a little slithering body scrambling across and between my thighs.
And then—a
TAIL WHIP. What? Are you kidding me?
Before my brain could even process what was happening, this little lizard launched itself out from between my legs and beneath my skirt like a reptilian missile.
The tiny man hit the floor in a full sprint, landing like an experienced paraglider, before making his great escape under the fireplace.
I’m honestly not sure if I screamed.
But I am pretty sure I yelled:
“Oh my God, this isn’t happening!”
Meanwhile, Sal is asking if I’m okay…
…and I am nearly dying with laughter as what just happened hits me.
Because I cannot make this stuff up.
This was happening LIVE during a phone call.
Somewhere in the background, Tawny Boots was probably watching the entire thing like:
“This is the best result ever.
The human enrichment program is working beautifully.”
And me, I'm honestly beginning to suspect these lizards aren’t being rescued anymore.
They’re just joining the circus.

Tawny Boot's Cronicles: Chapter 2: He Was Hiding Where Meanwhile, Sal i...
05/25/2026

Tawny Boot's Cronicles: Chapter 2: He Was Hiding Where Meanwhile, Sal is still listening to my running narrative.
My phone had started out on the table while I gave him a full play-by-play of events as they were unfolding while I was on all four, under the table, I kept him apprised of mine and the lizards movements like some kind of live sports broadcaster covering The Great Arizona Humans vs. Lizard Games.
And listen…
Sal was good staying on the phone, he had survived the search for the square green plates. He's used to my kind of crazy. And this was crazy.
And it was not his first rodeo.
So naturally, he stayed for the ride.
At some point during the chaos, I had knocked my phone off the table. As I'm scrambling around, not knowing where the lizard had gone, I told Sal I had dropped him on the floor and asked if he wanted to hang on still, things were getting crazy.
Of course he did.
This was live entertainment. Who would willingly disconnect at this point?
I’m already laughing out loud over the absurdity of this.
But now…
The lizard had vanished. After it had run under my skirt, it had, apparently kept running, and was probably now under the couch. That's what I'm thinking. Because. He is...
Gone. Just gone.
No movement.
No lizard.
No clue.
I shook out my skirt after my little twirl-around inspections. I checked the floor. Lifted my heels. Looked again.
Listen I had to be sure, I had stepped on one barefoot before. I was NOT about to step on one with shoes on if I could help it. I might have been a litte over-cautious.
I picked up the phone, scanned the room one more time…
And went back to the couch and resumed my conversation with Sal like a perfectly normal person. But, I was on the lookout, after all, the lizard was still in my house. And at the moment I didn't know where.
A few minutes later, as I am leaning back, getting comfortable, adjusting my legs, and straightened my skirt, because I’d been sitting on the edge of the couch stretching my back out, when suddenly I felt something un-natural:
tiny pokes, like really little needles, lots of them.
Light, pinpricks.
A swoosh of Scales against the inside of my leg.
Then a little slithering body scrambling across and between my thighs.
And then—a
TAIL WHIP. What? Are you kidding me?
Before my brain could even process what was happening, this little lizard launched itself out from between my legs and beneath my skirt like a reptilian missile.
The tiny man hit the floor in a full sprint, landing like an experienced paraglider, before making his great escape under the fireplace.
I’m honestly not sure if I screamed.
But I am pretty sure I yelled:
“Oh my God, this isn’t happening!”
Meanwhile, Sal is asking if I’m okay…
…and I am nearly dying with laughter as what just happened hits me.
Because I cannot make this stuff up.
This was happening LIVE during a phone call.
Somewhere in the background, Tawny Boots was probably watching the entire thing like:
“This is the best result ever.
The human enrichment program is working beautifully.”
And me, I'm honestly beginning to suspect these lizards aren’t being rescued anymore.
They’re just joining the circus.

🦎 Tawny Boots Chronicles: The Delivery Chapter One:There I was,laughing with Sal on the phone,when Tawny Boots proudly m...
05/24/2026

🦎 Tawny Boots Chronicles: The Delivery
Chapter One:
There I was,
laughing with Sal on the phone,
when Tawny Boots proudly marched into the room carrying what she apparently believed was a thoughtful hostess gift.
Now listen.
In Tawny’s mind,
she is not causing problems.
She is enriching my life.
Her tiny striped goblin soul truly believes she is providing:
entertainment,
exercise,
emotional growth,
and occasional reptilian surprises.
The latest victim was a very small lizard who briefly experienced:
capture,
negotiation,
release,
and immediate panic.
Because the second I convinced Tawny to drop him…
the little guy launched himself directly beneath my flowing skirt and disappeared without a trace.
What followed can only be described as:
interpretive panic ballet.
There was spinning.
There was tiptoeing.
There was skirt-flinging.
There was one deeply concerned older man on the other end of a phone call silently realizing he had become an audience member to whatever this was.
And somewhere…
beneath the chaos…
a tiny lizard was making decisions.

Somewhere around 2am, after nearly 68 years of peacefully coexisting with the Arizona desert…the desert finally filed a ...
05/24/2026

Somewhere around 2am, after nearly 68 years of peacefully coexisting with the Arizona desert…
the desert finally filed a formal complaint against my overconfidence.
One tiny baby scorpion apparently woke up, looked around, and decided:
“Yep. Tonight’s the night, I'm going to slip between the sheets, and have myself a little fun.”
One moment I was sound asleep.
The next moment I was participating in what can only be described as a full-contact midnight karate tournament against an invisible attacker somewhere near my backside.
There was swatting.
There was flailing.
There was panic.
There was language.
Meanwhile:
Lady was emotionally unavailable.
Morris was deeply offended by the interruption to his beauty sleep.
Peanut activated full radar-ear emergency operations, and snuggled closer.
And Tawny Boots immediately assumed her role as household crime scene investigator and future documentary narrator:
“What the hell is wrong with the Mom?”
The scorpion did not survive, the multiple rounds of Round One.
Round Two, however, belonged entirely to the single ice pack I retreived and for the next several hours, performed an Olympic-level event called:
🎵 Musical Ice for the Miserable 🎵
Ice on.
Move it.
Next location.
Repeat until dignity leaves the building.
In the end, the desert humbled me, my nervous system filed for bankruptcy, and Ice Ice Baby took home the championship title.
Honestly?
Zero stars.
And an experience I highly do not recommend.

Somewhere between “organized inventory system” and “human pretzel trapped in a ribbon jungle,” I lost control of my life...
05/23/2026

Somewhere between “organized inventory system” and “human pretzel trapped in a ribbon jungle,” I lost control of my life for a solid twenty minutes. 😂
What began as a simple mission to retrieve a stack of plates during a phone call with my friend Sal turned into a full-scale retail survival event involving:
🎀 collapsing boxes
🎪 a mutinous canopy
📱 a phone with abandonment issues
🟩 translucent green plates of commitment
…and one fully grown woman crawling through a six-inch doorway gap like a confused woodland creature trying to escape her own bad decisions.
At some point, the canopy tried to eat my phone.
The boxes judged me.
My spine filed a formal complaint.
And yet somehow…
the plates survived.
This is the true story of determination, questionable physics, and the exact moment I realized my inventory had officially become an obstacle course.
Welcome to another episode of:
🎭 Anchor Chronicles: The $16 Obstacle Course — Canopy Crawl Meets Ribbon Jungle

There is tired…and then there is Tawny Boots tired where she is “falling asleep sitting upright on the corner of the bed...
05/23/2026

There is tired…
and then there is Tawny Boots tired where she is “falling asleep sitting upright on the corner of the bed because she’s officially had enough” tired. 😂Welcome to my world little girl!
Tawny Boots finally removed herself from the situation and stationed herself at the far corner of the mattress like an exhausted little night supervisor.
Her only problem was, she was so tired she kept falling asleep sitting up.
Her little head would dip…
then pop back up like:
“I’m still on duty.”
I laughed so hard, because honestly better then anybody?
I understood her completely.
Some nights feel like survival mixed with love, chaos, exhaustion, and trying to hold yourself together while everything around you keeps moving moving moving.
And somehow, Tawny Boots, stole the moment, by standing still.
Tiny striped supervisor.
Still on duty.
Barely. 🐾

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