Four-alarm goodness

When you see one of these parked in front of your neighborhood grocery store, it can only mean one of two things. Either there's an emergency going on inside, or......the firemen are on a mission to purchase ingredients for some kind of tasty delight they play to prepare in the firehouse kitchen. This morning it was the latter, and the guys were really hyped-up. I guess they were planning to try a new recipe.

Did you know it takes 4, or maybe even 5, firemen to handle this buying task? There's one to push the cart, one to toss the items in the cart, one to cross the items off the list, and one to pay attention to the radio just in case there's an emergency or some such thing. I briefly considered asking them if I could stop by for a quick bite. But I don't think members of the general citizenry are allowed to just pop in for this sort of thing. Darn.

There's not much going on here at the Calcondo other than witch heads. I painted the hat on witch #1 and started sculpting witch #2.

On Monday I'll be driving down to the OC to have lunch with an old friend I used to work with. We haven't seen each other in decades. We'll meet here first. I probably wouldn't brave the SoCal freeways just for lunch, but with a fabric store thrown in (with yarn even) I'll scare up some courage. Let's just keep that between us, ok?

Well, I'd better move along. It's time to think about dinner. On tonight's menu: broiled Atlantic salmon, fluffy white rice, and four-alarm broccoli.

We're goin' to the dogs

So the sun finally came out after days and days of rain, and I can't explain why exactly but I suddenly got the urge to break out the clay.

It's a witch head, of course, and this time I remembered the warts....a large one on her chin and a smaller one on her nose. It's never too early to think about Halloween, is it?I decided to put a clay hat on her. I still have to make a hat band, and some kind of hat embellishment....but I have a plan and I'll get to it later today. After she's all sanded and painted, I'll try gluing on some hair just under the hat brim. I may not make as many witches this year as last. My leftovers are haunting the treehouse.

Yesterday I set out to visit one of my favorite little gift shops, but a traffic light malfunction at a really big intersection nearby convinced me to make a detour. I ended up at the book store, where I had fun browsing through this:

I almost bought it, but then I remembered I really don't like being elbow-deep in flour and water paste. Finger-deep in crafty clay is much more my speed. I did pick up a couple of good tips about painting, as well as a good way to install teeth. The author mentioned he has a butcher friend who supplies him with cow teeth for some of his largest monsters. Good thing my creatures are small so I have no need to consider that grisly option.

And from the funny things I see while I'm out and about file, the other day I was in Joann's picking up some muslin. I know, I know. I go there entirely too often. But I just can't function in my crafty little world without muslin. Anyway, I had just taken a number at the cutting table when I happened to notice a woman nearby who was pushing one of these:

The manager came over to remind her that dogs were not allowed in the store, and that there was a sign on the front door to that effect. She hadn't noticed it, she said, and she mentioned that she had never had a problem taking her dog into other stores. She continued to stand in line with the pooch. Apparently he'd already taken a number.....

Squirrel hunting

I may have related this story before. I had a friend in Connecticut whose husband used to say there was only one thing that worked to calm him down, even his keel, set him straight, and realign his tires from the stresses and strains of everyday life. Squirrel hunting.

This is my version of squirrel hunting. I've already been to two fabric stores--I didn't bother to mention this but I'm sure you figured as much--so I'm well-stocked with ammunition.

My plan is to set up an anatomy lab wherein I will make body parts. These will be easy to transport back to the treehouse for use later in my dollmaking assembly line. But first I'm going to make a few doll outfits. I think that yellow sunflower print will be just the thing for a busy bee. The craft fair lady at the old hotel is threatening to have a spring show this year (the first annual) and I want to be ready. And since I'm always hopeful that my creations will "fly right out the door," I might as well make a few of the flying kind. It couldn't hurt to give them an edge over the competition.

The rain continues.

And as we like to say when it rains in Connecticut, "If this was snow we'd have 50 feet by now."

A good read

For the last few months I've been writing a story with my 8-year-old niece who lives in Wichita. I would write a section, mail it to her, she would write her part and mail it back.
I finally finished the story yesterday, put it in a colorful binder, and mailed it off to her. It would have been done much sooner had I not decided to embellish it with some illustrations.

I may have gotten a little carried away.

I hope she likes it. I also hope she might want to do another story sometime in the future.....but only after I've had a little clay fix or even a cruise.

So Mr. Gadget and I have been busy doing some re-arranging of furniture here in the Calcondo, and some fix-it jobs. We moved a rattan sofa from the master bedroom to the living room, and banished an old recliner chair to the garage for temporary storage. Then we moved my computer and table into the master bedroom, and put a small 4' x 2' table in the guest room for my sewing machine. Mr. G then assembled a comfy steno chair for my computer area, and a cute little set of drawers (Office Depot) for my crafty supplies.

You're probably thinking it's all about me. Not really. Next, he replaced two toilet seats. They were almost antiques--which was fine with us, but we feared our guests might look askance. Mr. G, who normally utters more than a few expletives when doing jobs around the house, was remarkably quiet when he discovered the two jobs would only require the use of a wrench and not the dreaded hacksaw.

And did I mention, we've had rain? Yesterday I decided to forge the back patio on my way to the car to do a few errands. After all, it was only rain.

I got as far as the first intersection, found it flooded and nearly impassable, decided I really didn't need stew meat, and returned home. It was nothing a good rain plow couldn't have handled....

Tourists

I read in this morning's newspaper that there were large waves breaking along the beach nearby, so Mr. Gadget and I decided to go down there and have ourselves a look-see. The big surf is a result of a "very large westerly swell" according to the paper, and should subside later today.

I guess if I was any kind of a good blogger, I would have gone in the water with my big floaty thing to provide you with some perspective. But the lifeguards were vigilant in keeping surfers, and large fluffy women with big floaty things, out of the water. So you'll just have to take my word for it that those were some big waves.

After looking at the waves, we took a long walk. I was very sad to see this:

It's an unlucky barkrat that didn't make it across the road. Look how close he is to the crosswalk too. If only he had been smart and walked across there. California drivers are very good about stopping for anyone, or anything, in a crosswalk. It's a wonder I've survived all these years living on the east coast. Hardly anyone stops for a pedestrian back there. I have to admit, I've gotten slack about it myself--but only for fear of being rear-ended...and running into the pedestrian in the process. You'd think the police would ticket people who do this, but these incidents rarely happen close to a Dunkin Donuts.

Mr. Gadget walked up to the Asian market this afternoon for a couple of our favorite salads, and I asked him to please pick up my favorite--daikon radish. You may remember, I made some myself a while back. Although it's delicious to eat, it does begin to give off an unpleasant aroma after a couple of days. It's like kimchi that way--a favorite of Mr. G's. So now he's gone off to the gym and I decided to have a little of my radish salad as an afternoon snack. And even though I opened and closed the container quickly, now the condo smells bad. So I'm thinking maybe the only reasonable solution is to throw the whole mess down the garbage disposal and stick strictly to chocolate from now on for all my snacking needs.....

Philosophy lesson

Mr. Gadget and I arrived at the Calcondo on Saturday right on schedule. The threatening

snowstorm blew through quickly and left us with a beautiful day for travel. It was 16 degrees when we left Connecticut and 74 when we landed around noon. I'm finally starting to thaw.

One of the first things I do after we arrive is head to the grocery store.....where the produce section never fails to impress. I purchased some nice navel oranges for Mr. Gadget.

The man has no patience for red lights or slow talkers, but he can devote big chunks of time to skinning an orange, and after skillfully removing the peel in a single motion he'll very meticulously carve away every last bit of the white stuff.

"Why do you do this?" I asked. "You get antsy waiting for bread to toast. Besides that, I've heard the white stuff is good for you."

"It's really a philosophical matter," he told me. "There's the essence of orange, and then there's the essence of orange peel."

For some reason I'm reminded of his lecture on fleece.

"The white stuff goes with the peel," he said. "It's the part of the peel that sticks to the orange." Then, just before popping a big juicy section in his mouth, he said something really peculiar.

"Don't even think of getting me started on orbs."

Soon we'll be over our jet lag and things will be back to normal.

Testing, testing

I know my camera takes videos. I know this because once I hit the video button by mistake and when I reviewed the pictures I noticed one had come to life. Have I mentioned I'm not one to read directions? But then my friend put a video on her blog, and I just couldn't allow her to show me up. I was also pretty sure I could google the instructions. That was so much easier than trying to figure out where I actually hid, I mean put away the manual for when I had more time to read it.

So here's hoping this one takes. By the way, I took this one on purpose. It's just a test. Please enjoy a short glimpse of Tech Guy and Big City Girl playing a game of dining table ping pong on Christmas. And by the way, I was not drinking spiked egg nog.

So Mr. Gadget and I are preparing to cross over. No, not that kind of crossing over. We'll soon be crossing over the country to the warm, balmy weather of southern California. I hear it's in the low 70's out there. It's mostly in the low 20's here, with more snow in the forecast. Can we make our escape before that happens? That's the big question.

After we get there, though, I might decide to take more videos. Some that will give you a real sense of our SoCal lifestyle: the ants making themselves at home, the curmudgeons posting more rules, the barkrats congregating, and maybe even those thieves who put a quarter in the newspaper dispenser and take the whole stack. Now there's a pet peeve that makes me even angrier than fruit stickers....

The fine art of whistling

This is day two of a two-day event during which Mr. Gadget and I play host to a painting crew that has come to patch, sand, spackle, and repaint little blemishes in the walls and ceilings of our new condo. But really, with the lights down low you can hardly see them. Still, it's nice to know all the little nail pops and gouges will be a thing of the past....like last year's diet plan. And it would be nice if they'd make this the first annual, but that's not gonna happen.

What is worth noting about these men is that they whistle while they work. I can't remember the last time I heard someone who liked their job well enough to whistle while doing it. Refreshing. I do believe whistling is fast becoming a lost art.

The last whistling I heard....well, I should say heard about....was when Mr. Gadget was working in his basement office in the old house and he came upstairs, looking slightly perplexed, to report that he'd heard whistling down there--even though he was alone.....and wasn't doing the whistling himself.

"Oh," I said, "it was probably your mom. Remember when she told us she had never ever whistled because, as a child, she was told it was unladylike?" Mr. G's demeanor quickly changed from perplexed to unsettled.

"She probably just wants to let you know she's fine, and that she is happy because in Heaven she can whistle to her heart's content."

So while the painting crew is here, happily whistling and spackling, Mr. Gadget and I are endeavoring to stay out of their way.
I've been working on a new clay piece--an angel for a friend's birthday. I don't think this friend reads the blog, but if she does....Sandi, she'll be heading down to Texas soon.

I used an empty nail polish remover bottle as a base, and put a covering of aluminum foil over the cap for the head. My new clay tools were very useful, especially the sharp knife edge for cutting out the wing and collar shapes.

I've always admired Mexican art, especially paper mache. Much of it has a primitive look, and as you know, I like all things primitive. It's a way for me to justify the little flaws in my work....those flaws that are so important for adding character....

I just realized the poor thing doesn't have nostrils. I'd better hurry and paint some on because she's got plenty of work to do. It's going to be a while before she can join her friends in that heavenly whistling realm.

When good friends turn on you

Remember I was just talking about getting reacquainted with the green sweater-in-progress and how it was behaving nicely and seemed so cordial?
Come to find out, it was just a pretend friend. It turned on me. So I had no choice but to exact some revenge.
I don't really feel like divulging the dirty details right now. Maybe someday.

And remember I told you that Mr. Gadget and I had plans to order a pizza and have a pleasant yet early champagne toast on New Year's Eve?

Well, it didn't turn out quite that way. (Notice he's wearing his scarecrow shirt?) Instead of calling for a pizza delivery, I suggested we go out to have it....since the restaurant is just a short ways down the street. Might as well let someone else do the dishes. He reluctantly agreed. No sooner had we been seated and placed our order than people with noisy children came in, looked around at all of the empty tables, and sat down right next to us. So I asked the waitress to box everything up for take-out, and back we went to our nice quiet condo. Loading a few dishes in the dishwasher is a small price to pay for quiet it turns out.

We were much too full after that to have our toast, so the champagne is still chilling. But we did manage to stay up to see the ball drop. Even a pair of old foagies like us can enjoy the midnight festivities....as long as one of us manages to stay awake long enough to poke the other one with a nice sharp elbow.