Fabric fest

Today I took a solo road trip out to Anaheim to the better-than-Disneyland fabric store. It's called M & L Discount Fabrics and it's located on Ball Rd. just east of Knott Ave. in case you're in the neighborhood and have a hankerin' for a fix. I used to make this pilgrimage with my friend Barbara, who now lives in Arizona and flat-out refuses to drive over and meet me there....even if I buy lunch. Mr. Gadget drove me out there once or twice, but did I mention he could just as well be called Mr. He-Who-Hates-To-Wait? There's nothing worse than shopping for fabric while worrying whether Mr. HWHTW has finished reading his Scientific American and has moved on to finger-tapping...

I did buy a few pieces. I see no point in making the 40-minute trek, while dodging freeway pot-holes and steering clear of maniacs behind the wheel, without coming home with a little something.

I'm not sure I'll be able to get all this loot in my suitcase next weekend when we head back east. But Mr. G has assured me he'll have some room in his should I need it. He has amassed a nice west coast wardrobe and hardly ever has to pack any clothing for our trips out here. I, on the other hand, must pack inaccordance with my size-of-the-day. I don't actually have those little size-marker circle thingies in my closet, but they might not be a bad idea.

So tomorrow I will share a few pictures of my new clay doll. She's looking much better than doll number one, in my humble opinion. I'm planning to give her as a gift later today, so she remains under wraps for now as I never know who may be lurking.....

One for the record book

Look what Mr. Gadget found in his cereal today. It's a giant raisin bran flake. Maybe we should try to sell it on eBay. Maybe we should scrutinize it first to see if there are any famous faces hidden in it. Or maybe not. Mr. G ate it before I could suggest any possible money-making schemes. See those nice blueberries? I'm diligent about keeping him well-supplied with those.... so he'll continue to be of sound mind till sometime after I've lost mine...

I've started another clay-on-cloth doll.

So far, this one is looking better than the first one. I have yet to put the cheeks and chin on, so I'll reserve judgment for now. She'll be a gift, if she turns out OK, with lots of primitive charm.I decided, mid-blog post, to finish the clay application so I could let her dry overnight. Here she is with her face filled out and her hair in place. Tomorrow I'll start the painting process. I found a pretty print fabric for her skirt, so I'm hopeful of having her finished in time to give away this weekend. One of the trickiest parts of doing a face is making sure everything is symmetrical. If not, well, that's why there's that category called primitive.

So I guess I shouldn't really say anything about this, but I know you'll all find out sooner or later. Mr. G talked me into another cruise. It's coming up pretty quickly, but we should have enough time to return to Connecticut, unpack our suitcases, and at least wash a few clothes. And check the mail. And wave at a few of our new neighbors as we go by. It departs mid-April. More details will be forthcoming, but first I need to see about getting this darned clay out from under my fingernails.....

The girls

I call them the seven scary sisters. They're witch heads. Don't you think those little mouths look like tiny Valentines? I promise I'll stop making hearts and parading them around the world soon. It's just that I don't have a knitting project at the moment, so I make them while I watch TV with Mr. G in the evenings.

Dear ol' dad had a color-coded push-pin system for keeping track of his travels. Yellow if by land, red if by sea, white if by air.

I can only wonder what he'd say if he knew I was having a little fun with hearts on his very dignified map?

So, I've been hard at work here in my anatomy lab making body parts. They'll be easy to transport in a suitcase. I was planning to make a few arms too, but I'm not quite familiar enough with my west coast sewing machine to maneuver the needle around the little hands. My east coast machine is comfy like an old shoe. We go way back.

Mr. G and I are busy preparing for a visit from his brother and wife who will be driving down from the north on Saturday. The easiest part of this getting-ready process was calling for dinner reservations at one of our favorite restaurants.

The hardest part is still ahead. I promised Mr. Gadget I would crate-up my craft supplies and move them to the back closet where they will be conveniently out of sight. I will then dust and vacuum up all of my threads and fabric scraps, and any other evidence that might suggest a crafty person lives here.

There might be some nasty withdrawal issues. I'd better start practicing some deep breathing....

Traveling hearts

I've been making more hearts. And with no handy place to hang them, I'm using dear ol' dad's world map that's mounted above my computer. He put pins in all of his travel destinations and I just haven't had the heart to take it down. Buenos Aires is a city we visited together, enroute to our fabulous Antarctic adventure in 2001.

I've decided to send my little felt hearts out into the world. I think they'll make nice Valentines for some of the special people in my life. So much more heartfelt than Hallmark, don't you think?

I've also been busy with a new clay-on-cloth project. I was anxious to try the technique on one of my beanbag doll characters. My intention was to make a scary witch face, and I was sure that would be easy....what with my elementary sculpting skills and all.

But I think she's looking rather serene. Sculpting a face in clay is similar to sculpting one in cloth. You never know what you're gonna get. Here's her profile. It's slightly more scary.

She could probably use a good pair of tweezers, and maybe one of those skin peels. Then again, maybe I'll just give her a couple of warts or a spider on her chin. I won't be assembling her until I return to the Lighthouse, so there's still time for some cosmetic surgery.

I finally got an email back from Tech Guy. I'd written a few days ago to ask how things were going and if he was well supplied with toilet paper. No....just kidding about that last part. He tells me his sister is planning some real fun for his birthday next week. He's going pistol-shooting. My son the gunslinger. What a comforting thought.....

Where's that bonbon delivery guy?

Mr. Gadget worries that my blog readers must think I just do crafty stuff all day. So I'm here to tell you there has been a little housework going on. Very little. This morning I went to the grocery store and came home to give the kitchen floor a quick sweep.

When we're here at the Calcondo, I always feel we're somehow just camping out. There's not much to be done at a campsite, right? Just make sure the campfire is out before retiring at night so you don't burn down the tent? I'm not a camper, but I'm just guessing.

We're getting some rain today and the temperatures have plunged down to the low 60's. I'm thinking of putting on a sweater. Then maybe I'll get the Windex out and spritz a couple of mirrors.....

I heart hearts

I made some more cloth napkins for our cloth-napkin-loving relatives. I didn't really have plans to do this, but I liked the Valentine fabric.

I mailed them a few days ago, and I'm hoping they'll arrive in good order......unlike the coat I repaired, had cleaned, and mailed to Big City Girl that never reached her. To whoever is wearing her favorite coat.....may you fall through a subway grate. Just kidding...heh...heh....

So I decided to try my new clay-on-cloth skills on one of my bean-bag dolls. I cut out, stitched and stuffed the head, and applied a coat of gesso to the face area.

After it dried, I added clay features with a witch in mind.

I think the eyes are looking a little better on this one, but it really doesn't matter all that much because, after all, it's a witch. The scarier the better. That nose, though, makes me think I might be able to add some cleavage next time....

Here's an update on Dolly and the bugs. Seems I had the story wrong. It was the termite guy who had stopped by to give us a booster shot. It was a year ago that our building was tented. The visit yesterday was intended to send a message to any termites that might have notions of returning. I still don't know what all the racket was, and I have no plans to walk over and ask Dolly. She'll just nag me again about joining her for water aerobics, and I'll have to think up excuse #2187.

Sometimes I do make erroneous assumptions though. Once, back at the Connecticut house, we had a rash of late-night mailbox bashings on our street. One night, after we assumed the bashers had moved on to another neighborhood, I was awakened by what sounded like more hooligans. I called the police. Our neighbor, who also heard the commotion, came out with his shotgun. Turned out it was some poor guy whose muffler had come loose right in front of our mailbox. That's when I came up with my own version of the duck story. If it walks and talks like a duck, it's not always.

It's February. Don't forget to hug your exterminator.

How did February get here already?I know it's February because I brought my calendar with me to the Calcondo. Without the calendar, I'd have no clue what time of year it is because the weather is always pretty much the same here---high 70's and sunny. I must remember Tech Guy's birthday on the 16th. I should probably write it on the calendar so I don't forget to remember. Sometimes I remember to write things on the calendar and then forget to look at it. I've occasionally been scolded.

So now that it's February, I've had hearts on my mind. Here are a few felt ones I've been working on.

They will be slightly stuffed and have ribbon hangers attached. Too bad I have no place to hang them. I may have to put the Christmas tree back up....

So last night I was watching Larry King because I was curious to learn more about the woman with 8 babies, and how she was going to manage them all, plus the 6 she already has. Prospective parents should be required to take a sample dose of teenages-in-the-house before they are allowed to start a family. Now there's a reasonable idea, don't you think?

Anyway, it was approaching 10:00 p.m. when there arose such a clatter I was startled out of my comfy spot on the couch. It seemed to be coming from Dolly's condo next door. If I had to guess, I would say that Dolly was standing on a stepladder dropping 10 lb. bags of flour on her kitchen counter. And she must have had at least 20 bags.

This morning I noticed the exterminator's truck pull up and drag a hose of some kind up toward her back door. I'm thinking those must have been some big ol' bugs.....

Playing with clay

I finished my clay and cloth doll, and I'm fairly pleased with my first attempt. I learned the technique on Gritty Jane's online workshop. You can find all the particulars here. I tried not to judge myself too harshly on my first doll, but to use her as a learning experience. The great thing about primitive dolls is that just about anything goes.

I'll take her back to Connecticut and put her on the new mantel. No one will notice that weird eye unless they get up close. I may even touch it up a bit.The whole process was lots of fun, and I'm looking forward to trying another.....so stay tuned.

I meant to unveil the red felt thing I hinted at in my last post, but wouldn't you know....I didn't save the picture. Can I blame it on the computer? It was a Valentine ornament and I'll be making more, so stay tuned for those too.

Meanwhile, I'm working on an article. The local newspaper here invites people from the community to submit short pieces, and they choose one to publish each week. I got the crazy notion to try my luck. I figured I'd treat the whole exercise like a blog post....so how difficult could it be? Heh...heh... Stay tuned for that too, but don't hold your breath.....

Eye surgeon needed, stat!

Here's my first clay-and-cloth doll experiment. She's still in process; there are more steps to go. But I'm thinking maybe I should call an eye surgeon to address that wonky left eye. Maybe it needs to be removed and replaced, but then there's the nagging question about whether the new one will look better than the old one. And what if it won't stay in its socket? What would an eye surgeon do, I wonder? I guess it's challenging dilemmas like these that earn them the big bucks.

She does look better now than in this earlier version where, in addition to the ophthalmological issues, she needed a major make-up re-do. I'm reminded of Mr. Gadget's dear Aunt Jessie....God rest her soul. In her later years (she lived to 99) she was almost blind, but she was always insistent on wearing her make-up whenever she went out.

I promised my new dollie I'd find her a date after she's all fixed up. She says S and P are a pair of really boring guys.

I'm feeling mostly OK about my first foray into the of clay-on-cloth world. I think I deserve a pat on the back for getting the features lined up in the right order. The chin and jawline are a little weird. More smoothing would have helped, but it's challenging to do that without launching the nose and lips across the room. There's also the aging eyesight of the dollmaker that must be taken into account.

I've finished another small crafty project. Here's a peek.

It's a gift, so must remain partly under wraps for now. I had lots of red felt left over from my ladybugs that will come in handy for Valentine projects. I'm accumulating quite a west coast stash. I think I'm a gal who was meant to always have a stash. Kinda like a big ol' ship with barnacles....

So Big City Girl retrieved her boots from the parking zone and flew back to the big city on Saturday. I made her a nice big turkey and cheese sandwich to eat on the plane, and I threw in a small bag of cheddar goldfish. Mr. Gadget slipped her a twenty for taxi fare. Why is it he always gets the biggest hug?

Booting up

There's been a slight blip in the blogging the last few days as we made arrangements for Big City Girl to come for a spur-of-the-moment visit. You can see she's parked her boots at the curb. No need for them here, although that 80 degree, nothing-but-sunshine weather has disappeared and today we actually had some rain. SoCal folks are well known for their lack of rain-driving skills, and you can't really blame them since there's hardly any opportunity to practice. So BCG and I stayed put in the house and out of harm's way till the clouds passed over before venturing out to the mall for some shopping.



Then we stopped in at a little Mexican restaurant for some refreshment. After all, too much shopping can take a toll......

Priscilla stops to smell the roses

Priscilla is taking a break from her busy day of wallowing to enjoy the floral bouquet I received recently from Mr. Gadget. Seems we had a difference of opinion about how to handle a certain matter with the Department of Motor Vehicles and I spoke my mind. I'm usually not one to spout off, but I had permission because my horoscope said it was a good day to do just that. Besides, he was clearly in the wrong. He calls these my flowers of righteousness.

So now I'm looking for another issue about which to spout off. Maybe he'll come through with some chocolates of indignation.....

Gelatinous blobs

We've discovered a new dessert. Gelatinous blobs. They're from the Asian grocery store on the corner. We have no idea what they're made of, nor do we really care. They're covered with very sweet and ever-so-tasty grated coconut. Now that they're all gone, I'm left with Skinny Cow chocolate popsicles covered with ice crystals (because they've been hanging out in the freezer since our last visit).

But they do make a very good cooling agent, and they nicely complement a tube of sunscreen. I don't mean to gloat, but the temp has been nearly 80 degrees since we arrived. A far cry from the 12 degrees Tech Guy reported yesterday from his neck of the woods. This isn't the usual for SoCal in January. It's just a fluke caused by unseasonal Santa Ana winds blowing westerly from the desert--something that usually only happens in the early Fall.

Here's Mr. Gadget, with his head attached, enjoying the warmth. You can see he's shed his fleece. Maybe soon he'll shed his flannel.

I've finally gotten back to my knitting, so rudely interrupted by that moving thing. I should have knitted right through the move, I realize now. Maybe it would have kept me from the Christmas goodies and the cheeseburgers. Now I find my little container garden wilting for lack of care.

I finished sock #1 from the hand-dyed yarn gifted to me by other Marcia and I'm well underway on sock #2. Even though I've recently shed my socks, I do expect to have this pair finished by the end of February when I'll be needing them for our return to the real winter.

Another project I've been working on is gathering supplies for a fun online class I'm going to start soon. This has already required two trips to Joann's so far. One of the things I had to purchase was spray adhesive. When I got to the check-out counter, the clerk (young enough to be my granddaughter) demanded to know my birthdate.

"Huh? How come?" I asked.

"We can't sell spray glue to anyone under 18," she said.

"You've gotta be kidding, right?" I asked....incredulously. But the check-out process came to a screeching halt until I fessed up.

I can't help but wonder where reasonableness has gone. Maybe it disappeared into the black hole of fleece......along with real people answering customer service calls and our new bedroom blinds. I tell ya, it's enough to make a gal wanna sniff glue....

Mr. Fleece

Mr. Gadget is so fond of his new two-piece fleece ensemble that I may have to change his name to Mr. Fleece. Just this morning we had the following fleecy conversation:

Mr. F: I'm just sitting here thinking about how fortunate we are.

Me: Oh, you mean our good health, our children, our travels and stuff?

Mr. F: Well, that too. But I meant how fortunate we are to be living in a time of fleece.

Me: Huh?

Mr. F: Look at my sharp new outfit.....just $11.99 at Costco.

Me: You do look dashing, that's for sure.

Mr. F: I guess you could say that fleece is almost a supernatural substance. Sure, there were precedents for fleece. Take Jason and the Argonauts bringing fleece back from Colchis for humanity.

Me: I don't think we're talking about the same kind of fleece.

Mr. F: Sure we are. Then, down through history, there were other important innuendoes concerning fleece.

Me: Like what?

Mr. F: Jose Fleeciano and his big hit "Fleece Navidad".

Me: Oh, I don't know.

Mr. F: Okay, but even a skeptic like you has to admit we didn't have fleece before the space program.

Me: I wouldn't know. You're the science guy.

Mr. F: There weren't just moon rocks in those crates labeled "Moon Rocks". Lots of reputable scientists consider fleece to be a fifth form of matter. You know.....solid, liquid, vapor, plasma, and fleece.

Me: But isn't fleece a solid?

Mr. F: See, they've gotten to you too!

Me: Who?

Mr. F: Never mind. Fleece is no more a solid than fullerenes and carbon nanotubes. They came after the space program too.

Me: What??

Mr. F: Back in the Middle Ages, the alchemists would have assigned fleece to the list of what made up the world. There would have been earth, wind, fire, water and fleece.

Me: So what do you think the future holds?

Mr. F: I can't even imagine. But as long as there's fleece and Costco, these are surely the best of times.

Me: Did you know your fleece has attracted an orb?

Mr. F: No, that can't be. It's well known in scientific circles that fleece repels orbs.

I wonder if there's a black hole of fleece--you know, a place where fleeces go to die--maybe even before their time. Or maybe I can just put it in the dryer and shrink it into oblivion....

Where the ice is safely in the fridge

Mr. Gadget and I are now on the west coast, having barely escaped another snowstorm. I guess it was the pay-off for our 4:30 a.m. wake-up call. And you just can't beat this SoCal weather--about 75 degrees and sunny. My east coast friends will probably stop reading now. It's a little chilly inside the condo though. I had to put a sweater on.

Now that we've been flitting back and forth for a while, we have a settling-in process that usually involves dinner the first night at Denny's--a short walk down the street. The second day starts with me making a grocery list. There's always a cup of coffee to help me along. You've probably noticed Homer Simpson standing in the background, screaming at me to remember coffeepot filters. I actually had to use a paper towel yesterday afternoon. I could probably just switch to those and save a few bucks, but you never know. There might be coffee police.

My trip to the grocery store was relatively uneventful. I didn't meet up with the pink-haired lady, but was accosted instead by her evil twin--an overly-friendly young man with normal-colored hair, but who had obviously attended the same customer service training session as his co-worker. "Are you finding everything ok?" he asked me in every even-numbered aisle, in the same sing-songy voice the company must require of its employees.

Early this morning, while waiting for my coffee to perk, I took a walk to the newspaper dispenser thingie at the end of the sidewalk, and I noticed a few things.

Someone is building a castle in the neighborhood. Do you think it might be Prince Charming?It's Fall. Isn't this January? Things can be a little weird in California.

And what about this poor thing! I think the landscape guys went a little too far here. It makes me hurt just to look at it.

Lucky for me, I didn't encounter any barkrats. Maybe they're hibernating....

Ice is nice....if it's in your Marguerita!

We've got ice and freezing rain today. Definitely a good time to stay home.
The Mary Kay Wing looks slightly more subdued through an icy window screen. The vinyl siding was delivered the other day and it's a pleasing shade of country green.


Mr. G and I aren't too concerned about this weather since we'll be leaving it all behind on Saturday when we head back out to SoCal. Although my west coast friends tell me it's been a bit on the cool side out there....all the way down into the low 60's....

Yesterday, before the ice onslaught, I decided to break out of the new digs--with its never-ending cardboard box monotony--to get me a dose of fabric therapy. I didn't need any, nor did I have a project in mind, but neither has ever stopped me before.

The red plaid and red polka dots will make a very fashionable cow doll. I do love a cow in red, with a cute little blue print bandana. I'm undecided about the brown spotted piece. I was thinking of a cat. Sorry for the poor picture quality. I've sent a memo to Tech Guy with my list of questions about this new, for-my-own-good photo-editing program. Isn't that what parents do to kids? Decide what's for their own good? Since when did the reverse arrangement become permissible?


So I've been thinking more about the Elvis vest, and I'm remembering a math teacher BCG had in junior high who also wore funny vests. They were made, lovingly, by his wife who owned a fabric store. The two of them ended up in divorce court too. So single women, please beware! Men with a desire for handsewn funky novelty vests may not be suitable husband material.


Here's a fun pattern I bought a while back:

It's by Leah Smith of The Country Cupboard. I do like Santa and the snowman, but I really bought the pattern for the pig. Maybe I'll stitch one up while I'm in SoCal. He can keep
my paper mache pig Priscilla company. I think it's pretty well known that when two pigs get together in the same house, they really like to ham it up.....

Elvis with ladybugs

Please enjoy a few pictures of the Lighthouse while I tell a totally unrelated story.

Here's the calendar. Who needs to poke a hole in the new wall?

So Mr. Gadget asked me if I'd like to go out for breakfast this morning. "Duh!" I replied, and off we went up the road to a diner with the same name as one in our old neighborhood. We learned they're owned by brothers.

Remember Beatrice, the wingless bee? All of her friends have gone on to new homes and she's not at all pleased.

So the waitress came over and plopped down our menus with just a hint of attitude. As we were looking them over an elderly, whistling gentlemen with a spring in his step walked by with plates balanced up his arms and a pocket full of straws. He was wearing a vest made of Elvis fabric.

Mr. Gadget doesn't think I can get all of my crap, I mean arts and crafts supplies, into the Lighthouse. I aim to prove him wrong.

Elvis.....I'll call him Elvis.....looked to be past retirement age, but was clearly working the joint. He seemed very popular with the crowd. He was smiley and chatty and full of good cheer. I was dying to know about the vest.

Beatrice says that if I'm intent on keeping her grounded, I should at least make her a new friend. Maybe a ladybug or a frog. Definitely not a nun.

After we finished our meal and Mr. G headed for the cashier, I noticed him standing nearby. I caught his eye and we exchanged smiles.

"Are you an Elvis fan or is Elvis your name?" I asked.

"Oh, I love the guy!" he said. "I have lots of vests with all kinds of things."

"I was pretty sure it was a handmade vest." I said. "I sew and I noticed you have ladybug buttons."

"I tried to convince my wife to sew me a vest," he said, "but she couldn't be bothered. I ended up divorcing her because she was lazy and never wanted to do anything. So I took a sewing class and now I make my own vests."

I noticed he had quite a collection of pins attached to it too, so I asked about those. He pointed to a saxophone. "I took some lessons, but I wasn't very good," he told me. Then he showed me a dancing couple. "I'm pretty good at dancing and playing tennis though."

My Elvis encounter was a breath of fresh air and a perfect start to my new year. Maybe I should move out of my comfy rut and try some new things. And "blooming where I'm planted" isn't such a bad idea either. I'm already looking forward to another trip to the diner to see more vests. After all, it's just 3.8 miles up the road.....

Caution! Sharp objects

Our real estate agent, who Mr. G good-naturedly refers to as Easy Money, came to our new front door last week with a thank-you gift.
It's a hand-crafted wooden bowl with an unusual handle. Could it be that he did a quick survey of the roof-lines before making his gift selection? Or maybe it was just Sara Dipity.

I'm sure my good friend and USC alum, Claudia, is gloating today over the outcome of the Rose Bowl game. Mr. G, an alum of Penn State, is understandably down-in-the-mouth, although I was able to cheer him up with a Cadbury chocolate bar, which I very thoughtfully shared with him so he wouldn't be alone in his grief.

So today I'm celebrating my 3rd blogiversary. Unfortunately, life has been so busy lately I wasn't able to create a festive cake like last year.

Since I always include my blog address in our annual Christmas letter, I should probably do a quick review for any new visitors. Mr. Gadget is my hubby and a lover of gadgets, especially if they have remotes and mail-in rebates. Tech Guy is our son. He's almost 27 and works in the computer tech field. Big City Girl is our daughter. She will soon be 25, and lives and works in NYC. We no longer have pets.......other than a large assortment of dust bunnies.

I like to write, which is why this blog has gone on so long. I especially like to write funny stuff. Occasionally I draw a very elementary picture to illustrate a point. I do think blog posts are more entertaining with pictures. Sometimes I'll notice something funny that will prompt a blog idea. I'm very observant of the world around me, with the exception of dirt on the windowsills and dust on the ceiling fans. Most creative folks I know own a pair of blinders.

Every now and then I get the itch to start a new project. It's been a while, what with this moving business that's gone on for so long. Maybe I'll take a look around the Lighthouse and see what I've unpacked and if there's a table without stuff piled high. Meanwhile, I'm repairing a jacket for BCG. I know it would be cheaper to mail it back to her than to hand-deliver it. But there's nothing like a nice train ride into the big city where the aroma of diesel fuel and all that horn honking are enough to make a gal forget the scent of cardboard and the brutal song of the box cutters.