Tag Archives: corn maze

There’s a Fungus Among Us

15 Friday Sep 2017

Posted by in cats, culture, Eerieville, Haunt, humor, singing, Uncategorized

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I was hoping to have exciting news to tell you all today about our next big adventure, but it looks like things have stalled. So I’m going to hold off on telling you about it and instead just say that I will probably be bald in the near future as all the stress is causing me to tear my hair out. And my head is kinda lumpy, so I don’t expect it to be a good look on me. Send bourbon posthaste.

In the mean time, I wanted to tell you about smut. Apparently, smut is edible, y’all. Confused? Well, let me elucidate*.

I’m talking about corn. And smut. Specifically, corn smut.  That, apparently, is a thing. Wanna know how I know? We have it at the haunt. Instead of a corn maze, we have a smut maze. And it is creeeeeeeepy! This is what I mean:

Revolting, right? Revolting and edible – like, delicacy edible. It’s called Huitlacoche. In Mexico, it’s considered to be gourmet, like truffles: http://www.gourmetsleuth.com/articles/detail/huitlacoche. American farmers have tried everything to eradicate it, but they really should have been harvesting it and selling it at top dollar to Mexican restaurants.

Generally, I’m not very adventurous when it comes to my food, but I figure, if I can eat Francy Feast (that’s what I call fancy French cuisine like snails), I can eat what is, essentially, just a mushroom growing on some corn. I found out a little late that this stuff could be eaten, so I have less to harvest than I would have a couple weeks ago, but that didn’t stop me from forcing the bile back down in my throat as I picked the exploding gray kernels, then gleefully running around with a plastic bag of my pickings singing, “I’ve got a bag of smut! I’ve got a bag of smut!” as though I was Jack Sparrow with a jar of dirt. The neighbors may be worried.

I’m not a cook, so I’ve frozen my bag o’ smut and will be saving it for my friend (who made the mistake of telling me about huitlacoche in the first place) to cook up into something yummy for me when I see him in November. It’s sitting in the bottom of my freezer right now, looking like bag of horrific skin growths. I have to admit that I’m not overly excited at what it’ll taste like, but I reaaaaaaally want to be able to say that I’ve eaten a bag of smut.

I’ll do my best to remember to post about what smut tastes like when the time comes. Until then, seriously, send bourbon. The stress of everything is killing me.

* I can’t hear the word “elucidate” without thinking of this, which cheers me up, so I’ll be playing it on repeat for the forseeable future. My cats approve.

Dem Creepy, Creepy Trees

25 Wednesday Jan 2017

Posted by in art, DIY, Eerieville, Haunt, humor, painting, Uncategorized

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Okay, I finally – FINALLY – finished one of the creepy trees that will be set dressing at Eerieville (the 21 acres we’re transforming into a haunted attraction). This was my first time working with foam, hot wires, and foam coat. Paint, though, I am obviously familiar with. This is the total opposite way for my brain to create, as it involves whittling away as opposed to building up. I’ve done very little carving since college, and I’ve certainly never done it with hot wires, so it was incredibly challenging (especially since I’m accident prone). I’m also not working with the ideal tools because they’re hella expensive and out of my budget, so it’s taking me way longer than it would otherwise. I’ve been documenting the steps along the way, specifically for you, dear reader. So here is our first creepy tree:

foam-stacks

First, we had to unload these 8’x 3′ x 4′ blocks of foam. Yes, I injured myself doing this.

foam-tree-skeleton-first

Then I had to carve the block into the basic shape of a round tree. Yes, I injured myself doing this.

foam-tree-skeleton-drawing

Then I drew on the skeleton that I wanted to be emerging from the tree. No, I didn’t injure myself doing this, but I did lose the cap to the pen, which hurt my heart.

foam-tree-skeleton-early

Then I got to carve in the skeleton and add texture so that it resembled bark a little more. Yes, I injured myself doing this. 

foam-skeleton-tree

Next, I coated the tree with a product called Foam Coat that dries to a concrete-like finish. Yes, I injured myself doing this.

foam-tree-skeleton-final-2

Then I painted it dark brown, let that dry, and dry brushed on two lighter shades of brown and some green. Yes, I injured myself doing this.

foam-tree-skeleton-final

Then I stood back and was proud of myself. I did not injure myself doing this, but I did trip over a bottle of paint while I was backing up to take this picture.

And there you have it. Several more trees to go, along with a whole bunch of other props, and I’ll try to remember to take pics for you but I don’t have the best memory (too many fumes from the burning foam), so I’m not making any promises.

Stoopid Farming Equipment

22 Tuesday Mar 2016

Posted by in art, dance, DIY, Eerieville, Haunt, humor, Uncategorized

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As any of my regular readers know, we’re building a haunted attraction south of Raleigh. My regular readers also know we’ve faced tons of flooding issues on the property. We were supposed to be open about 3 years ago, but still aren’t because of various issues like the flooding. Last year, we had planned to just open during the day with a corn maze and other family friendly activities on the part of the property that doesn’t flood, but the guy who was supposed to plant our corn bailed at the last minute, screwing us.

This year, we bought the equipment and are going to try it ourselves, so on Tuesday, we tromped out to the tractor to disconnect the bush hog equipment from the tractor and connect the new tiller. Five hours later and more cursing than I care to admit to, we gave up when we realized that the damned drive shaft they gave us was too long. That’s right, I know what a drive shaft is. And it’s not nearly as much fun as it sounds (can you imagine how disappointed people are going to be when they google “shaft” and come across this post?). Fuuuuuuuuuuck. So S went to the place we purchased it from yesterday and one of the workers is going to come out and hacksaw the blasted thing to the right length so we can actually use it.

The only thing that kept me from killing someone (and by someone, I mean S, since he was the only person around) was the laughter I got every time I looked at the warning labels on the equipment. I want my new job to be creating the drawings for warning labels. Here are two of my favorites from Tuesday:

tractor bucket warning

Warning! Do not bop naked dancing hippies on the head with the front end bucket! They can’t help it. They’ve just dropped too much acid.

drive shaft warning

If I was this flexible, I would teach yoga. But I’m not. So fuck you, Yoga. Also, if I die a horrible death via rotating driveline, I hope I have the wherewithal to flash jazz hands and keep my feet in perfect first position.