OH HAPPY DAY (OH HAPPY DAY…). That Edwin Hawkins Singers song from 1969 is what this doodle by Andre Jordan reminds me of, though my gospel here on the blog is gardening, and our shared church–yours and mine–is the outdoors. To celebrate the feeling of gardeners in sunshine (oh happy day!), I’m adding a little incentive to comment on this week’s gorgeous doodle: a giveaway of three copies of Andre’s doodled memoir, “Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now.” How to win one of my favorite books ever:
Simply comment below, telling us what aspect of Andre’s work touches you (naughty? nice? wacky? wonderful?–use your own words). If you’re not sure, review all his doodles (!!!!) at this link.
As the holiday weekend ends at midnight Monday, May 31, I’ll select three winners at random using random.org’s random-number selector.
By the way, Andre’s wife, Mrs. Andre, says this doodle would make the nicest wallpaper, and she is just exactly right. Oh happy day! (Which see, below. Or more precisely, which hear.)
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HE READ IT IN MY DECEMBER CHORES LIST: Make the last mowing before winter a short cut, way down low. And even though the snow fell before he got to that task, the guy in the doodle (is that you, Andre Jordan?) didn’t want to skip a single to-do I’d suggested, apparently.
I KNOW A THING OR TWO ABOUT DIBBERS, and this one looks perfectly fine to me. Not sure what master doodler Andre Jordan, our Thursday columnist, is talking about.
APPARENTLY MRS. ANDRE’S TOMATOES succumbed to “tiny insect things that will not leave our garden alone,” we hear this week from Himself, who very sweetly shared the actual sympathy postcard he drew for Herself on the occasion of her lost tomatoes.
I AFFECTIONATELY CALLED ANDRE JORDAN A BIRD OF A FEATHER last Thursday, when his new weekly doodle debuted here. Apparently this is the migratory Englishman-turned-Nebraskan’s response.
SHE LOVES ME, SHE LOVES ME NOT.Andre Jordan seems to keep hoping for the best, despite a few well-documented cases of rejection (as in, loc. cit., The Girl I Love With All My Heart. Caveat emptor: Deliciously not PG!).
No, I have still not met Andre, though we’ve been in contact for more than a year. But we grow a little closer every week when the latest stash of doodles-in-progress arrives, and I get glimmers into the thought process that is behind them, just like I did when I read his memoir, “Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now.” (There is no better book to give your shrink; it should be on the curriculum of psychoanalytic institutes and departments of psychiatry in teaching hospitals and schools of social work, I swear. Insurance companies should mail it out to all patients using mental-health coverage, so they know they are not alone.) Some week
“And so I said very little,” his email continued, “and hoped (as I tend to do with my more serious doodles about depression) that people such as yourself would understand the enormous thing I did not try to say. If that makes sense?“I shall get back to my slightly passive aggressive doodling now. Ha. I am currently drawing a ladies bottom. I am as yet unsure how this will eventually become a garden doodle.”Stay tuned, dear readers. Next week promises to be a doozy. (I love my Andre emails almost as much as my Andre doodles, frankly. Well, except ones like this Quantum Physics Diagram, which actually does relate to gardening…and about 500 others.)Thanks for being Andre, Andre. And yes, of course it mak
THANK GOODNESS WE HAVE ANDRE JORDAN to warn us of the dangers all around us in this hazardous hobby of ours. I confess that even though I tried to exhibit restraint in this year’s seed orders, a few extra things have found their way into my stash.
WHAT BETTER WAY TO START OUR NEW ERA as a nation than by sowing seeds of hope? Thanks to a recent transplant to America, doodler Andre Jordan, for a perfect message for this historic week.
I was trying to repair a failed de-icer in the pool. All that’s missing from his latest doodle: the flashlight I had in one hand, and the hammer (to crack the ice and save the frogs from suffocating) in the other. (Not the same tools I’d used earlier that day to dislodge ice dams from the roof.) I repeated the hammering periodically throughout the night to protect my beloved amphibians; who needs beauty sleep, when potential princes are at risk? A girl must be versatile, well-equipped, and ever-ready.When does spring begin?Tagsandre jordan
BESIDES OUR SOMEWHAT OFFKILTER HUMOR, Andre Jordan and I have another thing in common: We not so long ago each headed for the hills. (Wait, are there even hills in Nebraska?)