The clay Santa is finished and I'm very pleased with how he came out, especially considering he's my first attempt at doing a project with an armature. I'm not crazy about the blue mittens. I think they'd look better in a different color but I couldn't decide which one. So I've decided to just leave them blue, rather than try to re-paint them and screw up the works. We'll just call him the
blue-mittened Santa.
Here's his back side, although from this angle you really can't appreciate his cute red cheeks.
Christmas Tree Lady was a no-show at the trim-a-tree party. I had so hoped she would be there. I did introduce myself to Porch Poker Lady, and I showered her with compliments on her gardening skills. At some point during the course of the evening, or maybe it was more like six months ago, I realized that word of the blog might eventually get out and it would probably be wise for me to be nice. Maybe I should invite them both to tea...
On Sunday morning Mr. Gadget and I took a ride to check out the craft show. I was curious to see if my dolls were flying out the door. From my best assessment, as of 10:30 a.m. four dolls had flown the coop.
I wasn't terribly pleased with how they displayed my dolls this time around. While the angel looked great on the old piano (organ?), I wasn't crazy about dolls in the tree.
I think they look better when seated on something....a table, a mantle, or a bookcase. There were lots of places like that around the hotel. Also, for some reason, they didn't use the doll chairs I sent along with them. I might have to make a friendly suggestion next year. Unless when I show up next weekend to gather up the unsold ones and my check, I discover there's only a check. Then I'll reconsider my opinion about the tree thing...
Mr. Gadget and I will order pizza for dinner tonight and stay in for a quiet New Year's Eve. He tells me he has a bottle of champagne chilling, so we'll have a toast and hit the sack about ten. Did you know that 10:00 p.m. is the new midnight?
My 91-year-old aunt (dear-ol'-dad's older sister) recently wrote her memoirs and she sent me a copy for Christmas. I started reading them yesterday while I sat in a chair at the hair salon waiting for my hair color to process. They were so engrossing I missed out on all the gossip.
This year I kept a list of all the books I read. I finished one this morning for a grand total of 34. Some of my favorites were The Guernsey Literary & Potato Peel Pie Society, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, and Married: A Fine Predicament. Next year I'll go for 50.....or maybe 35.
Tomorrow will be my 4th blogiversary. It tickles me to think I've been doing this for so long. It's one of the most fun things I do. The world has become a serious place, and I like to think I've carved out a small slice of silliness. Thanks for coming along! 
See what I mean? He's hovering. Maybe he's been observing the bat, I mean Mr. Gadget's new remote-controlled helicopter. He seems to be able to do this without batteries, so at least he'll be cheap to keep.
His backside is strictly G-rated.
Here's a close-up of his face. He's in need of more sanding before I do the painting. I think he'll be a perfect treehouse pet.
I don't think I named this particular sweater, probably because it was behaving nicely. I have all the knitting done and just have the seaming to do--not my favorite part. It will have a rolled edge--rather than ribbing--around the neck, sleeves and bottom of the sweater.
Maybe it wasn't a bat exactly....although it was the right color and about the right size. And a quick glance had me running for cover.
It was Mr. Gadget's new remote-controlled helicopter--a gift from Tech Guy--and it came with many batteries and no echo-location abilities. 
I told TG and BCG it was time for their treasure hunt. They could hardly contain their excitement. They were most impressed when I told them I had worked diligently to produce rhyming clues.
"Look all around for some Christmas twins.
"If you're very observant 
He needs a few more body parts and some fine tuning, but he will make a great pet when he's done. One of those quiet pets that doesn't need much care. A project like this is just the thing to keep a person who might be prone to holiday stress from wringing her hands or worse--heading to the fridge for some fudge...
We waited patiently all day yesterday for the big snowstorm headed our way. The weather folks, who get high on hype and for some unknown reason must name everything, had dubbed it the Winter Wallop. By the time we went to bed, there were one or two flakes. This morning there's a nice little dusting of powdery stuff.
I forgot to mention, I did fairly well at the old hotel craft fair. I sold 7 of the 14 dolls I submitted. The man who bought my cat at the last fair quickly snatched up the cat I made for this one....so I will take a whole gaggle of cats next time. Oh, and the Santas in the Christmas tree sold well in spite of my concern. It's a good thing too, since they chose to use my doll pedestals for jewelry displays.
Tech Guy arranged for one of Big City Girl's friends to stop by her office last week with a big package wrapped festively in newspapers. I hope it was the comics at least. "Don't open it now," he told her. "You'll know when the time is right." About an hour later the FED-EX man came with an overnight package. It was a tortoise. It's new house was in the wrapped box. She named it Shelby. I hope Shelby likes the big city.
I'm done with my shopping, but haven't finished my Christmas letter. I'll get to it right after I finish this blog post. I may need a cup of coffee and a piece of my chocolate biscotti first. It's well known that chocolate is very effective in jump-starting the creative process.
Just how many bowl games can there be, I wonder? I think I heard Mr. Gadget say yesterday, "One down, 33 to go."
He's been badgering me to find his sled--his little red sled. The one I packed away before the move. I promised him I'd find it tomorrow. I'll start looking first thing in the morning because I'll do anything to stop his bone-chilling nagging. Then I'm going to search the internet for a pattern for a claw-fringed scarf. I want one in the worst way.
Yeah, I know. More cheeks. I wasn't going to add those, but what if he falls off his sled? He'll need a little padding to soften the blow. I know this from personal experience. When I was a kid I lived on a hill, and dear ol' dad built me one of those little coaster cars. I got going too fast one day and slid right off. Good thing I had a little extra padding. In fact, that padding was so beneficial I decided it might not be a bad idea to always have a goodly supply...
So here is Mr. Fringy Snowman. I can't seem to make a clay scarf with fringe that doesn't look like a wild animal claw, but I will keep practicing. Paint will help too. With each clay project, I learn a little more about the process. Since this picture was taken, I've partially built up the base and included some clumps of snow to weight the whole piece down a bit, since he had a tendency to fall backward....what with all of his exuberance.
But I say he should go out there and shovel this little patch of snow himself....so he doesn't forget where he came from.
This was easy to do. I measured the length, from point to point, and the width I wanted for the finished runner. I made a pattern out of newspaper, allowing for 1/2" seams, then traced around it (actually I used a straight edge for most of the length). I stitched all around, leaving an opening (long enough to get my hand inside) for turning. Then I turned it, pressed it, and hand-sewed the opening closed. 
I haven't decided yet whether he'll do part-time plumbing work. I suppose I could make the cute little cheeks my signature. Then, years from now, if one of my pieces shows up on the Antiques Roadshow, there will be no doubt it's a genuine Macaroni.
Do you think I should give him a tool belt? Maybe he could do a little plumbing work in the off season.
I had planned to make another snowman, but as I started working on his head I quickly realized he would be a Santa instead. A whimsical Santa.
A whimsical cheeky Santa. Sometimes the clay just does its thing and the sculptress must follow along.