Sugar-free dessert

Now that bathing-suit season is almost here, I decided I'd better get serious....again..... about the diet. This required, among other things, a trip to Knitter's heaven earlier this week with other Marcia to purchase some low-cal snacks.

Some yarn for sock knitting should be just the thing to keep my hands busy and out of harm's way. Maneuvering 4 small knitting needles requires various degrees of concentration. There should be little time for grazing in the pasture, I mean raiding the fridge.

You may be wondering why I haven't mentioned the unfinished crocheted afghan, the simmering food quilt, or the trunk full of pesky, half-knitted sweaters. Those qualify as fall and winter knitting, so they can be postponed.

Remember the cat doll I was working on whose tail I had misplaced? I consulted my Ouija Board, found it, and finished him. I also penciled in some stripes. I should say, hints of stripes. I also did a little fix-up on Phyllis the pig. I did away with the vintage silver beads and gave her some pearls. She's a class act. Well, at least she thinks she is and who am I to argue with a pig?

I'm also working on another Uncle Sam--this one for the table in our entryway. Today I cut out and stitched his hat, bow tie and flag. He should be ready for his debut right after Memorial Day. I guess it would be tacky to put a little price tag on him, wouldn't it?

Happy Hour

Over the weekend I discovered there's no better nor more efficient way to announce Happy Hour in the condo neighborhood than with some well-placed bubbles. Mr. Gadget and I....well, maybe it was just me...heh...heh....decided to test this method on Saturday. Almost immediately, our next-door neighbors--The Ones Who Garden (not to be confused with Porch Poker Lady)-- came over with martinis.

On Sunday, after they had apparently decided I needed something more powerful with farther-reaching capabilites, the gardeners gifted me with this:

Boy, did I have some fun out there on the back deck reverting to childish behavior, I mean harking back to my youth. Mr. Gadget even had to call me in when it started getting dark.

Lookee here! It's a bubble with the image of Louisiana. I'm thinking I could sell it on eBay for some big bucks! Oooops! Too late.....

Celebration

We've had lots to celebrate here at the Macaroni headquarters. We even indulged in a marguerita toast. That's because Mr. Gadget finished the curio thingie.

Here, he makes one last measurement before affixing it to the Treehouse.

Monkey tries on his cubby for size and ponders who his neighbors might be. He hopes they will be quiet and dignified, and will offer him an occasional dinner invitation.

It's a perfect fit. That's because Mr. Gadget has an assortment of gadgets for accurate measuring.

It eagerly awaits the arrival of curios.And here it is, in full flower one might say. I wasn't sure I'd have sufficient curios to max out the thingie, but fortunately I had some yarn balls, thread spools, a couple of thimbles and some flower pots to serve as stand-ins until more qualified curios could be found. Traveling is a good way to procure curios, don't you think? I must start planning.

Meanwhile, I'm going to consider new projects for Mr. Gadget. He's rather harmless when he's in his basement workshop--with the efficient buffer-zone between us. Oh, I'm just kidding of course! I was so tickled with the curio thingie that, as a thank-you, I told him he could grill me a burger for dinner.

Back in the barnyard

I'm still here in the barnyard and all I can say is I'm sure glad I don't have to step over any cow pies. I'm not much of a farm gal. I don't mind a nice little petting zoo, but I'm not interested in rubbing shoulders--or any other of my body parts--with cows and pigs and chickens.

I'm pretty sure my cousin Gary is the reason for my dislike of all-things-farm. When I was growing up in southern California, my aunt and uncle had a small farm east of town and we used to go visit. That was before freeways, so we had to travel on surface streets--which usually prompted my sister and I to sing several verses of Are We There Yet?
Cousin Gary, who was a few years older than I, had a flock of chickens, a donkey and a couple of goats. He was also quite fond of practical jokes. On one of our visits, I took a walk out near the goat pen where he was milking a goat. And it wasn't long before I felt something warm dripping down my face. Gary had sprayed me with goat milk. That was the last time I set foot on a farm, as best I can remember.

I'm not averse to sewing farm animals though. They have no threatening bodily functions nor do they smell. They don't attract flies and bugs either. I can decide to put one on if I so choose--which I did on this cow. See the ladybug on his neck scarf? This particular embellishment was added to cover up a hot glue spill. No one will every know.

Now that I think of it, there was one good thing about those old visits to the farm. My uncle always made peach ice cream in his hand-crank ice cream freezer. I've always been a sucker for ice cream, especially homemade, so I was always first in line for a dishful. Unless, of course, goat boy was nearby.

My trip up the road

I've been known to procrastinate. I've even done a fair amount of chipmunking. But yesterday I decided to turn over a new leaf. I finally called the doll lady--someone I'd been referred to by folks at a local appraisal fair. For years my mother's doll has been sitting in a back closet....naked, with a bad wig.

A sweet old lady answered the phone. I love calling elder people because they usually always answer and I don't have to deal with voice mail--that bottomless pit of despair. It's so refreshing. She insisted I bring dolly right over.

"We're just up the road," she said. "You can't miss us. It's the house with all the birdhouses on the front porch."

So dolly and I set off down the road, and oh how I wish I was more brazen with my camera. The house was a treasure--a colonial, built in the 1700's, with creaky, uneven wood floors and lots of rooms and plenty of musty smell. It had character. Not to mention, dolls in every nook and cranny. There was a whole neighborhood of birdhouses too, just like she said, and none with a vacancy.

She and her husband, who identified himself as the doll doctor, took a look at dolly and told me a few things about her. She was probably made sometime around 1920. Her eyes used to blink, but a peek inside her head (doc did an abbreviated autopsy) revealed they had been opened and fixed with plaster at one time. Her wig was likely not original because black hair would have been very unusual on a doll of this kind. And, sadly, she isn't a rare doll--as the original appraiser hinted at based on her markings, but just an average dolly of her day.

They suggested I might insure her, but as with most things today the market isn't what it used to be. I'd be better off, they said, to clean her up, fluff up her hair, and dress her in something nice so she can be displayed.

So now I'm wondering what Grandma ("Oh my stars!") Ferna would do. She used to make clothes for my dolls on her old treadle machine. She'd fold some fabric, lay the doll down on it, and snip, snip, snip. In no time at all, a pretty new dolly dress would appear.

Could I possibly work some of that same kind of grandma magic? Just fold and snip and sew? I guess it's worth a try. I've certainly got plenty of fabric, and I don't have to treadle like she did. I wonder what she'd say if she knew? Oh wait. I think I hear her whispering something in my ear now.

"Oh, for pity's sake!"

Hamming it up

Oh my stars--as my Grandma Ferna used to say. The Treehouse is starting to look like a pigpen. Maybe I should go ahead and make the cow doll I already have cut out and then just do a total barnyard clean-up.

Good thing Sister Mary Rebellious has her back turned to the whole mess.No telling what damage she could do with a well-placed ruler, and I guess she'd be within her rights--what with me being such an irresponsible dollmaker and all...

My plan was to put a nice ruffled clown-style collar on this porker, but it wouldn't have worked well with the mouth being so low on the face. I really should learn to plan ahead. That's probably worth another ruler whack. I always seem to jump into things with little or no planning and then have to pay the price. In this case, I decided the beads and boa would do. Then a little eye shadow was in order. No earrings though. No sense going hog-wild.

In other news, Mr. Gadget has been hard at work on my curio thingie.

Unlike me, Mr. Gadget always plans ahead. Notice that precise drawing he's working from? No Sister Mary whacks for him.

"What's for dinner?" he asked, as I observed his fine woodworking skills.

"Oh, I don't know," I said. "But for some reason, I've got a real hankerin' for some navy beans and ham."

Yo Mama's Day

I sent an email to Tech Guy and Big City Girl at the end of last week in hopes I could save them a trip to the mall in search of a Mother's Day gift for me. I was fairly certain, knowing them as I do, that they hadn't gotten around to their mom shopping yet.

"You both know," I wrote, "that I'm a mom who likes handmade gifts, and not those boring and expensive ones you'd only find at the mall. Handmade is always better than store-bought is my motto."

I'm sure they were both greatly relieved. And I know they worked all weekend like little Christmas elves. They did not disappoint.

After we arrived at the restaurant and were seated at our table, they handed me a pretty package with a blue bow. It was an album. Here's the cover:

I think you have to live on the east coast, or at least in our family, to appreciate that Yo, Mama is an endearing term. Inside the cover was some poetry.Following were many pages, all hand-lettered, hand-drawn, and/or collaged containing a silly, yet wonderful, collection of riddles.

It's a treasure worth displaying on my coffee table. Except I don't have a coffee table. Maybe I can convince Mr. Gadget to make me one when he's done with the curio thingie. Probably not though. He'll probably assume I'll end up using it as a place to store crafty clutter. That would be so unlike me....

Cats and other curiosities

I have a special fondness for cats in cats. I like cats in bugs too.
This guy is almost finished; he still needs a tail. There's a good explanation for this tail omission. He used to be dressed in polka dots before I insisted on changing his costume. He was sadly lacking a tail then too. Since the tail is the last body part I install--I sew it on in a special way which I can't possible divulge because it's one of my trade secrets--I usually put it in a safe place till I'm ready for it. But long story short, now I can't find it. I seem to have forgotten the password. I'm sure it will turn up....most likely after I've purchased more fabric and finished the replacement.

So Mr. Gadget is out shopping for wood as I type. He's going to make me a curio shelf thingie for the Treehouse. I say thingie because I don't know exactly how else to describe it. It will hang on the wall and contain many little cubbyholes. I don't think of myself as a collector--other than the stash, of course. It just seems that somehow, over the years, a collection has found me.
There is an array of little critters that were too cute to pass up.
And small pieces of my handiwork.
There's a nice sampling of priceless artwork by Tech Guy and Big City Girl--"The Early Years."
And a few things I want to save for my old age, because you never know.....

"Do you have enough curios to fill a curio cabinet?" asked Mr. Gadget, before heading out to Home Depot.

"Are you kidding?" I shot back. "I have more than enough. In fact, you might have to make me another cabinet to handle the curioverflow...

A fine Tuesday, well, except for the drilling

I spent one long delightful hour in the dentist's chair today. I thought I'd finally made it through the cavity-prone years but I guess not. When exactly does that happen? At least my dentist is a gentle and friendly man. During one of my last visits, he and his assistant kept up a steady banter about TV reality shows. They divulged so many details that there was no need for me to fret about having missed them--not that I would have watched them anyway. But they were mum on the subject today, which makes me wonder if the shows are in hiatus--or better yet, canceled...

The weekend was nice, although a little too hot for my early-May tastes. Mr. Gadget fired up his new BBQ on both days. The neighbors came over to marvel, and friends came for dinner. I praised his grilling skills in hopes he'll cook again next weekend--or even before.

While he grilled, I blew bubbles. Here's a word of caution: if you decide to try this, be sure to determine the wind direction first and blow that way. This little bit of whimsy brought on more marveling by the neighbors. I'm sure they thought we were babysitting. I'm easily amused.

I finished the American flag for Uncle Sam, but now I've decided it needs another star or two. There's not nearly enough space for 50, so a nice little scattering of stars will have to suffice.

On my last trip to the fabric store, where I went solely for quilting supplies, I ended up making an impulsive, non-quilting purchase.

This cute cat fabric reached out and clawed me. After I got home I found the orange stripey fabric in my stash and thought what a great bow tie that would make. I can already hear him meowing at the door.

Well, enough for this time. I have more recuperating to do from the drilling. Maybe a nice chocolate milkshake would help.

Keeping watch

Uncle Sam is finished--except for his flag--and I've assigned him the task of keeping watch over my quilt sandwich.I've begun the process of basting the pieces together--the two slices of bread and the big piece of baloney. I'm only providing this bit of visualization for those of you who don't quilt. I'm not much of a quilter either, as you know, so it's helpful for me too. I'd hate to end up with the baloney on top of the bread--especially if there's mayonnaise involved, which is only a very remote possibility...While sandwiching, I've noticed my mind wandering off to interesting places. One is to where I'm actually contemplating making another quilt in this same arrangement of simple blocks...possibly for Big City Girl. There are so many whimsical fabrics available; a quilt could be tailored to reflect a person's interests. I checked out an online fabric source and found all kinds of prints that would fit BCG: apples (for the Big Apple), wine, books, taxicabs, coffee....just to name a few. If only I were a quilter, I could consider making one of these. But I guess I'd always wonder if she'd just add it to her dustmop collection.

And now moving on to manly pursuits. Today Mr. Gadget bought himself a new BBQ. I'm not sure why he made this purchase, since BBQing has always been my job and he has very little experience. I informed him right after we gave away our old BBQ, just before the move, that if we ever got a new one it would be solely for his use because I had reached BBQ-retirement age and would be happy to just live with my BBQing memories---the many times when I had to juggle the salad-making, condiment-assembling, heating of beans, table-setting and meat-turning--all while doing referee duty for our two fighting children. So now he has agreed to take over the job, but says he only intends to grill hamburgers and hot dogs.

I'm not sure what it is about a man and his BBQ, other than maybe it's the playing-with-fire thing. I think I've come to the conclusion that men feel more secure in their manhood when they have a fast car in the garage and a behemoth of a BBQ in the back yard. I'm chalking it up to testosterone.

Ride biking

Mr. Gadget and I took our bikes to a nearby park yesterday for a little ride. We hadn't been in a while. In addition to getting some exercise, we also got in touch with our inner dorkiness. I thought it might be worthwhile to record the experience, so I took my camera along in my handy little bike bag. I suggested to Mr. G that we stop by some flowering fruit trees so he could take my picture.

"Let's wait till this family goes by," I said, as I noticed a threesome approaching us on the trail. No sense photographing dorkiness with witnesses, I thought. But one of the three must have noticed me getting my camera out of the bag.

"Would you like me to take a picture of both of you?" he asked, before I had a chance to run and hide my dorky self behind the tree.

"Uh, yeah. Sure. "

Afterwards, we continued our ride down the trail, with Mr. G following closely behind me--in case he had to pick up any of my pieces. At one point I almost gave up and pushed my bike off into the woods near a flock of chickens. Yes, chickens. They must have heard about the embroidery.

"I don't think I'm ever going to get the hang of this," I barked at him. "How am I supposed to manage two gearshifts while remembering to brake at the right time and steer in a straight line, all while watching out for oncoming traffic and managing to endure the pain in my butt from this razor-sharp bike seat?"

Mr. Gadget very smartly remained quiet. He probably knew I'd catch on eventually, and it might be best not to offer advice. "Would you like me to take a picture of you with the chickens?" he offered.

So today it's raining and a good opportunity to look over the food quilt to see what's left to do.

I spread the batting over the top to check the fit and noticed enough space left for one more row of squares.
I sure hope there aren't any official quilt rules. I'm just making up my own as I go. As you know, I'm not a big fan of quilting, but it's a lot more fun than running my bike into a hen party, and returning home with a dorky photo and a sore butt.

Favorite uncle

It may look like I'm planning ahead, but I'm not. If I were planning ahead, I'd have 3 or 4 of these guys on the assembly line. Instead, I'm just making one doll at a time--whatever character strikes me at the moment-- at a leisurely pace with no deadline in mind.

Uncle isn't quite finished, so I've just photographed him from the waist up. He'll need a flag to hold, and some shoes. He was about to choose the clodhoppers, but then reconsidered--just in case he decides to fly somewhere. Maybe he'll opt for a nice pair of red-glittered flip-flops.

So I haven't been much in the mood for doll sewing. It comes and goes. But I have a few cut out, so I'll proceed at the aforementioned leisurely pace. I've been making these beanbag dolls (so named because they have weighted pellets inside for almost limitless posing potential) for about 20 years.

I keep thinking I'll make some different kinds of dolls, but then someone will beg or bribe, I mean ask me to make a pilgrim for their aunt who wants one in the worst way. Or a friend will ask if I could make a polka-dotted cat for her granddaughter's birthday, etc. etc. I'd like to stop, but I hate to disappoint. Plus, I have a big fabric stash. I have to use it up or donate it....or, Heaven forbid....make quilts. That's not gonna happen. I'm a gal who likes a craft that will sit in my lap like a big fat cat. Besides that, I've still got the food quilt stewing....and a soup pot full of guilt to go with it.
I did recently pick up this crocheted afghan again--a project I started some time ago for Big City Girl and her boyfriend. They were sharing an apartment at the time and the colors coordinated with a few pieces of new furniture. Then they broke up and I'm not sure where the furniture went because she didn't want to speak of it, and the afghan went into time-out mode. So when BCG eventually gets married (please BCG, your mom can't handle another break-up from a living-together situation) I'll give her and the hubby the afghan. It should be finished by then. And maybe they'll be able to find some nice furniture that will coordinate without conjuring up painful memories of the relationship gone sour. Then again, maybe I'll just keep the afghan and give them a crockpot.