Strike up the band!

Sorry I've been away from the blog, but I've been celebrating. I found out from my little circle of dollmaking friends that Chef Vinny made the cut for publication in the Spring 2012 edition of Art Doll Quarterly. Here's the cover:

The magazine should be out in stores on February 1. I have a subscription but haven't received my copy yet. Mr. Gadget and I have our mail forwarded once a week while we're at the Calcondo, so I'm hoping I'll have mine tomorrow. I guess if I was a gal who wore a cap, there would be a nice feather in it! Stay tuned for pictures.

As usual, I have taken on too many crafty projects. I haven't had time to start the paper mache project yet. I did finish knitting the green sweater and have started the sewing-it-together process.

I've done a little sanding on the clay bird and now have to make him some wire legs and feet. I'll be setting up my work table outside later today since we're now having some nice high-70's weather. Have I mentioned it's been a bit nippy?

I have to finish the toes on this pair of socks. This is the part that requires total concentration and absolute quiet. I've sometimes had to resort to duct-taping Mr. Gadget's mouth for the duration.

And then there are the sunsets--which require a person to drop everything and run outside with the camera. This is not, by the way, a good time to finish socks or stir fry.

Marvin Gardens

There are some residents here at the Calcondos who really miss the big yards they once had, and the opportunity to garden. Our neighbor, Marvin, is one of these. No sooner had he moved in than he took on the job of planting and embellishing the small areas of dirt around our building. The grounds crew takes care of the large bushes, but there is lots of nothingness in-between.
Dolly, who lives next door to Marvin, was inspired to do a little garden decorating of her own.
Mr. Gadget and I, who reside next door to Dolly, were so embarrassed by our lack of garden art we couldn't even open our curtains or show our faces in the neighborhood. So I moved the painted rock turtle out by the front gate.

Things look so much better now and we can hold our heads up high. Although, all things considered, I think I'd rather live on Baltic Avenue or the Boardwalk.

So I've been perusing paper mache websites in preparation for starting a new project. I have something in mind to make and I've found some wonderful inspiration. Once I get underway, I'll share the process.

Meanwhile, I need to clean up a few of my little areas of interest (you know, like those crime story persons of interest but much more messy.) There's the green sweater--a sleeve here and a front there, the tiger scarf--on the verge of becoming a dust rag, the clay bird with only one wing, and the photo-sorting ordeal. Maybe I'll just forget it all and go ask Marvin if he needs an apprentice.

Beauty queens

I just read in the newspaper that Miss Wisconsin won the Miss America title for 2012. If she happens to be reading, I'd like to offer her my heartiest congratulations...

As I was walking around the neighborhood earlier today, I noticed the large variety of vegetation and I got to thinking.....what if there was a beauty contest for trees.

This one would certainly be up there in the top 10, whereas.......
.....this one would have to hide its head in shame.

So this weekend, I'm pretty sure, is known as Football Weekend all across America. Men everywhere are planted in front of their big-screen TVs, and women are shopping. Well, all women except for me. I've been making guac for Mr. Gadget and keeping him well supplied with chips and beer.

This morning, during the first game--or the 3rd of the weekend 4--I started a small clay project. A bird. A bird whose head might be a little too big for its body. A whimsical bird. It's much too early to show him on the blog, but he'll be similar to the one in this post that I made long ago. He'll be an earthquake bird. If we get a little jolt--as we so often do here in SoCal--he will most certainly fall over, and then I can call the news channels and report in.

And from the Only in California file......on Friday I went to the grocery store, and on my way out of the parking lot I almost ran down a pickle. Yes, there was a big green pickle sauntering across the lot not even looking where he was going. Come to find out, he was on his way to the corner--his office as it were--where he would hold up a sign and shake it to and fro to advertise a store in the shopping center called "Mr. Pickle." I don't know if it's a franchise. And no, I don't know if it was a sweet pickle or a dill....

If only I'd waited.....

....I could have celebrated my 6th blogiversary with 6 palm trees. Wouldn't they have looked nice on top of a cake! A big chocolate cake. With sprinkles and buttercream frosting. Oh well....

Mr. Gadget and I arrived at the Calcondo on Saturday, after a pleasant and uneventful flight in our usual seats--17A and B. Mr. G is a creature of habit, and I'm just kinda like a cling-on. Things were shipshape in the condo, and best of all the ants were gone. They must be vacationing in Mexico. Although I did get quite a fright when I opened one of my plastic craft storage drawers and saw a big pile of black stuff in the back. I was sure it was an ant cemetery. But then I remembered I'd filled Chef Vinny's wine bottle with black sand and some had leaked out of the bag.

And speaking of Vinny, it won't be long till I find out if he made the cut for the Spring issue of Art Doll Quarterly. It should be hitting the newstands around the first of February. Meanwhile, I've been pondering what direction my dollmaking might take in the future. I love making cloth dolls, but craft shows this past season were not very profitable. It's nice to have selling opportunities, otherwise they collect in the closet and there's no end of trouble then.

I have a few projects planned for my west-coast time. One is to finish a green pullover sweater I started long ago. I had to rip out the front and back because I made such a stupid mistake I'm ashamed to tell you, so I won't. I'm also going to hand-sew the hem in the tiger scarf--the one to hide my turkey neck. There might even be a clay project starting up soon. Lots of possibilities.

Mr. G and I had plans to follow a healthy eating and exercising regime while we're out here. The weather is nice for walking and the farm markets are open all year. Yesterday we walked to the local market (about 3 miles round trip) where I bought a bag of nutritious brussel sprouts and Mr. G bought some corn muffins and a small rum cake. I told him I'd trade a few sprouts for just a teeny tiny taste of his cake, but he wouldn't budge. That's ok. I know where it is. I'll just wait till he takes out the trash.

A mishmash

Mr. Gadget and I packed up all of the Christmas decorations, and then promptly filled the void with boxes of family pictures. We now have a new photo scanner. Soon we began the tedious task of sorting--sitting side-by-side on the couch, looking through them one-by-one, and voting on the good, the bad, the ugly. It was almost as painful as wallpapering with a spouse, but nothing hurts quite as badly as that.

There were a few surprises in the boxes. One was a ziplock bag containing old shirt buttons. Another was this teeny, tiny letter written by my great-grandmother to my mother--which required a magnifying glass.

It's a sweet little letter from a grandma to her granddaughter--not unlike one a grandma might write today. Except, just before she signed off she said she had to go milk the goat. I'm not even sure I'll ever have grandchildren, but if I do I don't think I'll ever be a goat-milking grandma.

I've finished most of the machine quilting on the food quilt. The job I did is pretty pathetic, so I'm never going to allow it out of the house. On the plus side, there are so many busy prints they should distract from the uneven stitching and the bumps and puckers. I definitely need to read Quilting for Dummies before I think about making another one.

So Mr. Gadget and I are about to embark on our winter trek to the Calcondo. Preparing for this trip is lots easier than it used to be. Mr. Gadget has pretty much an entire wardrobe out there, so he doesn't need very much suitcase space. But since my clothing size is ever-changing I have to take more, so I encroach. I'm an encroacher extraordinaire.

Now I'm trying to think of something witty to end this blog post with, but I must be at my wit's end. Maybe I'll go look for a goat. Which reminds me....I had an older cousin who used to have farm animals. One day we were visiting and this cousin--I won't mention names--was milking his goat and he called me over to watch. And then he squirted fresh goat's milk in my face. I've never been fond of goats since then, and I've never forgiven my cousin.

Happy New Year!

I was lost in a hot-flashy brain fog,

when a friend suggested, "Why don't you blog?"

Did I really begin 6 years ago?

With this silliness you graciously undergo?

You could be watching old reruns of the yule log.

To lift or not to lift?

During my last two visits to SoCal, I had lunch with an old friend from my working days. We went to the same restaurant both times, and we even sat in the same booth. All of that sameness provided the perfect backdrop for assessing the results of the neck lift she had gotten between our visits. The difference was quite striking. In fact, it got me to thinking.....

Maybe one day I could say adios to my turkey neck.

As we sipped our wine, she related her surgery experience and the not-exactly-a-piece-of-cake recuperation. By the time we got to our second glass of wine I was having second thoughts. Then she said something that really sealed the deal. She said, "If I had it to do over again, I wouldn't do it."

When I got home, I started thinking about possible alternatives for ridding myself of my TN. Exercise? Nah. Preparation H? Definitely not. Magic wand? Perhaps. Then it hit me. The perfect, painless, low-cost solution. And I hopped in the car and drove to Joann's.

I bought a third of a yard of a silky-like fabric in a lovely jungle print.

I've never actually sewn a scarf before. The idea of putting something slippery in the sewing machine kinda scares me. But my Armenian friend--the lady from the writing group--used to be a seamstress and she gave me some pointers. I'm going to give it a try.

If I'm successful I'll be making lots and wearing them everywhere. They won't completely cure my TN, but they'll definitely take the edge off.

Leftovers

It's always nice to have plenty of leftovers in the fridge so you can put off a trip to the grocery store. Although it doesn't take much of an excuse for me to put off that trip. Did you know you can make an omelette out of just about anything?

Now that I'm in a craft-show hiatus, I've decided to finish the food quilt that's been languishing in the pantry for months. After all, it's almost the first of January when hordes of us usually resolve to make better food choices--like peppers, fish, greens, and the occasional jelly bean.

I very wisely gave up on the idea of hand quilting. My frequent companion, Arthur Itis, has taken possession of my main sewing finger and kind of put the kibosh on things. Fortunately, I have a fall-back positon.

I really thought sewing long, straight lines on a quilt sandwich would be a piece of cake. But no. The occasional bumps and detours along the way--which don't even qualify as food products--are causing some nasty indigestion. I keep reminding myself this is a learning project. Thank goodness for Tums.

The short version

Our Christmas was fine--

the salad dressing divine.

Antie Pasto stopped by

just in time for the pie.

Then we all found a place to recline.

Are we there yet?

Five days and counting. I wonder if anyone would notice if I just sat in my recliner and knitted till Christmas?

Things have been busy here, but I did discover a fast and easy.....not to mention cheap...way to make gift tags. It's thanks to these--something I bought long ago when I was into making fabric banners:


These would look much more festive in glittery paper, but I was interested in using what I had and avoiding another trip out into the hectic holiday traffic. I could, of course, glue some glitter on them, but then there's sure to be a nasty vacuuming job. I think they're swell as-is.

I gave the book of stories to the Armenian lady in my writing group and she was very pleased. Unfortunately, I took a picture of the wrong house. I was sure I had the right one--with that nice little shop area on the bottom floor. Tomorrow is the last scheduled meeting of the group, but they've said they want to continue without me while I'm gone--which I'm pleased about and which I'm taking as a compliment.

Big City Girl and Tech Guy will be arriving on Christmas Eve and staying over in anticipation of Santa's visit. TG and BCG sometimes get along like oil and vinegar, so I'm hoping this year we'll have a tasty, well-blended salad dressing.

I'm off now to wrap some gifts. Here's hoping your holidays are festive and full of cheer....and free of annoying salad-dressing issues...

Crafts close to home

Today Mr. Gadget and I took a short ride down the road to visit the annual holiday sale at a local craft center. I also wanted to take a picture of the house that's directly across the street from the center.

But more on that later.

It wasn't long ago that the craft center, which is run by volunteers and was established in the 1950's, ran out of money and had to close. But then some enthusiastic and energetic souls decided they couldn't let that happen and they rallied. Here are some of my favorites from their holiday collection:











And now, more about the house. For many years it was the home of the Armenian lady from my writing group whose stories I've been recording and transcribing. She and her husband lived in the house and had a cleaning and tailoring business down on the bottom level. I've just finished typing and assembling the stories I've recorded so far, and I thought it was important to include a picture of the house that was their home for many years.

I've put the collection in a loose-leaf binder which will allow for more to be added later. I'm going to present it to her tomorrow at our weekly meeting. I hope she likes it.

And now I'm going to address some envelopes. I have no Christmas letter to put in them yet, but all in good time.

Bowled over by the Christmas spirit

Here's the rock all dressed and ready for the holidays. I wasn't sure I'd be able to finish it because, as I said in my last post, I was pretty sure it was a job for a 3-handed person. But I left it on the table overnight and went back to it the next day. And it's as if the muse of unusual crocheted objects had intuited my distress and came to my rescue. I was able to hold the rock cupped in my left hand and work the crochet hook quite easily with my right. Those muses can be very helpful. I don't appreciate them enough. Maybe I'll bake some thank-you cookies.

And then, as if I hadn't wasted enough time, or crocheted enough unusual objects, I decided to dig through my stash for some yarn to make bowls.

Here's the bawdy one to give some perspective.

My plan was to felt both bowls. I was certain the darker one was 100% wool--and thereby feltable--but I wasn't sure about the other. Disappointingly, neither of them felted. Win a few, lose a few. The little one will sit next to my recliner chair and hold my glasses, scissors and Snicker snacks. No. Scratch the Snickers. The other one--which I had planned to gift to Big City Girl and which I had visualized as a lovely blended artsy-looking stripey thing--will sit in the Treehouse and collect stuff.

Yesterday I went up to the old hotel to fetch my unsold crafty items. I had no idea what to expect, but of course I had hoped they would have called me to let me know that everything had flown out the door and there was nothing left to fetch and they would be happy just to mail me a check, but no such luck. I had to make the trek. But I was pleasantly surprised to find that 4 of 8 dolls sold, 8 of 10 felted flowers sold, and several mini sweaters and felted birds were gone. Sadly, I had to bring the gecko home. He's suffering from what I suspect is an inferiority complex and he's lurking behind my recliner in the fake ficus.

So Mr. Gadget and I managed to get the house decorated for Christmas this weekend. Mr. G's job is to put the lights on the tree, and my job is to put everything else on it. For some reason the light-stringing process was especially stressful this year. There may have been a few naughty words that were not in keeping with the holiday spirit. Maybe next year we should trade in our lightless tree for one of those pre-lit ones. Either that or I'm going to get some of those big ear protectors the airport ramp guys wear. Maybe I'll leave a note for Santa.

The well-dressed rock

You would think with December moving along at breakneck speed, I'd be doing my Christmas shopping, or cookie-baking, or putting up the tree and decorations. But no. Instead, I've been spending my time crocheting outfits for rocks.

This is kind of a special rock. I have a weird habit of picking up little rocks from some of the places I visit. I have no idea where most of them are now, but this one has managed to survive on my windowsill. After Christmas I'll tell you the story of this rock. It will be a very short story--maybe two sentences. I'm hoping by then I'll have this rock-crocheting skill mastered. Unlike making people clothes, rock clothes must be finished while the rocks are wearing them. Therein lies the challenge.

Here are some wonderful examples of rock couture. These give me hope that someday I, too, will be able to dress my rocks without having to grow a third hand.

I also find tree sweaters intriguing.

My Grandma Ferna, who taught me how to crochet, passed away over 30 years ago. But if we were to have a conversation today I think it would go something like this:

"Grandma, you'll never guess what I'm working on," I'd say. "I'm crocheting coats for rocks and knitting sweaters for trees."

I'm pretty sure Grandma would say, "Oh, for pity sakes!" Either that or, "My stars!"

Mr. Gadget has his say

It was a beautiful morning in our neck of the woods, so Mr. Gadget and I took a walk around the neighborhood. I had my camera and Mr. G. had a few things on his mind.

"There are just too many lawyers," he said. "They've got their safety instructions, their safety recalls, their safety this-and-thats."

Was that a nest or just a clump of leaves, I wondered?

"Do you know my new can of shaving cream has instructions on it?" he said. "Not in words, but stick-figure instructions--so men of all races, colors, nationalities and creeds can be offended without prejudice," he went on. "I'm surprised those lawyers didn't require instructions in Braille, so even the blind could be offended."

"That's really something," I said as I continued to scope out the trees.

"How can a grown man get to be a man without knowing how to operate shaving cream?" he asked. "After all, it's not rocket surgery."

"Hold on a minute," I told him as I raced across the street to grab another shot.

"It's kind of like when you got your new iron with the safety instructions that said not to iron your clothes while wearing them," he continued.

"And you know what else?" he said--obviously getting torqued-up (that's one of those mechanical-engineering terms he throws around now and then.) "One-a-Day Vitamins."

"Right under the name One-a-Day it tells you the dosage is one per day. I'd like to see a creepy little stick figure choke on one of those fat pills."

As we headed home I told him I had plenty of bird-nest pictures. "I'm pretty sure you're ready to relax and de-torque, and I have a great idea," I said. "You can put the lights on the Christmas tree."