Trip to the Big Soggy

 

On Sunday I joined a few of my neighbors on a bus trip to the city.  Sometimes I call the Big Apple the city--just to annoy my west coast friends and relatives who think I've become a little uppity since transplanting to the east coast.   Of course I know there are plenty of other cities. It's just that none have quite the same charisma as the city.  I mean, where else can you find a trapeze college perched on top of a pier building along the Hudson River?  Or a white-gloved doorman hailing taxis for customers departing a Bed, Bath and Beyond store?  With an umbrella in hand.... because on Sunday the Big Apple was the Big Soggy. 

Even the newly-completed Freedom Tower was half hidden in the mist.

Since travel writing doesn't come easy for me (I just can't get past the then-we- did-this-then-we-did-that) I'll get back to what I like best....writing about my silly crafty stuff.

So the plans for the Celebrating our Creativity event here at the condos are coming along nicely.  I've recruited a few more crafters and I'm nudging some others.  I've decided to make a banner for the front of the building to let people know about the wonderful treasures inside.  Yes, I've been known to sometimes bite off more than I can comfortably chew.

And in other news, an article I wrote for the condo newsletter--under the heading of "Meet Your Neighbors"--was published.  I had a few nice comments and am hoping it will become a regular feature.  I'll include it in the blog soon--after I've had time to change names and places.  After all, Mr. Gadget is already in hot water around here.  I'd prefer to stay out of the tub.

A grand, and not-so-grand, story

Mr. Gadget and I live in a townhouse.  It's part of the first phase of our condo complex.  The second phase--a series of three buildings with single-floor units--is now underway.  The first building is complete and almost 100% occupied and the second one is now under construction.

The builders have named these the Grand Coach homes.  The condo residents just refer to this one as the grand.  There are many single women who live in the grand--some widowed and some divorced. 

During the past year, as the ladies have purchased their units and moved in, friendships have blossomed.  All of them have become fast friends.  Not only that, but they've organized social events and have reached out to those of us in the townhouses and included us in their activities. Whereas there was almost nothing going on when this piece of land was just a muddy field, now there are almost too many things on the calendar.

So here's the grand story.  One of the ladies was diagnosed with cancer not long ago, and her grand neighbors have been taking turns driving her to her daily treatments.  They have a schedule of some kind....probably a spreadsheet (wouldn't Mr. Gadget love that!) so they each know their day to drive.

I thought this was a heartwarming story and worthy of mentioning.  As for the not-so-grand story, there's Mr. Gadget's experience on the condo board.  He's devoted many hours of his time to his job on the executive committee and takes his position seriously. But there are a few residents who do nothing but complain.....month after month after month.  Several are no longer talking to him.  So after the June meeting, he and I will have a special, and much-anticipated, champagne toast at his towel-throwing-in ceremony.

Stick man and the cauliflower cat

Last time Mr. Gadget and I took a walk in the park, I was on the lookout for doll fixins'.  There are body parts everywhere if a person just pays attention.  I gathered up some sticks and when we got home I assigned Mr. Gadget a task. I sent him down to the basement to do some sawing and drilling.  While he was down there, I went up to the Treehouse and made a little pillow out of duck cloth.

Our joint effort resulted in Stick Man.....who will become Mr. Pumpkin Man once he's all dressed and fitted with a permanent clay head.  It just occurred to me that with a little more sawing and a few more drill holes he could have had knees.  I'll keep that in mind for my next stick man.  I have no intention of sending this one back to Mr. G's workshop.  I don't think I could stomach an amputation....especially now that he has a heart.

Remember Pickles, the paper-mache cat?

 

Now that I've begun to cover him with paper mache, I'm not very pleased with how he's progressing.  He looks like he's covered with cauliflower.

When I began to mix the dry mache pulp with water I noticed right away that the consistency was all wrong.  It wasn't going to adhere easily to the newspaper I'd wrapped around the pickle jar.  Finally, it dawned on me that in my excitement to use my 40%-off coupon at Michael's,  I grabbed a box of Celluclay instead of Instant Mache.  I'm sure the former is fine for making a volcano for the school science fair, or a solar system for same, but it just doesn't work well for cats.

I'm going to finish him though.  I might as well use the stuff up.  I'm pretty sure I can smooth him out with a little sandpaper.  You can sand cauliflower, can't you?  Sounds like a job for Mr. Gadget.

Fascinating

On Friday I went with a group of my neighbors to the senior center for high tea in honor of Mother's Day.  I still don't think I'm old enough to socialize with those old ladies; I think of myself as a more youthful woman who's just visiting the center with a few older friends.....just to check things out for when I am old enough.  

We were told to bring our own teacup and saucer, and to wear a hat.  The tea cup was no problem.  I have my grandmother's china in a box in the basement.  In fact, I was able to loan one to teacupless Bingo Barbara for the occasion.  But the hat posed a problem.  I have a couple of hats that probably would have worked....but not without a haircut. At the moment I have big hair.  I'm in need of a good shearing.  So I went hatless.  But once I arrived, I noticed another of my neighbors.....Bingo Betty.  She was wearing something totally whimsical on her head.  It was just sort-of-a-hat.

It's called a fascinator.  It certainly wasn't up to Kentucky Derby standards, but it would be more-than-suitable for lunch at the country club or a stroll down the boulevard...or high tea at the senior center with big hair.

So Mr. Gadget took me out for Mother's Day brunch today.  We went to a restaurant that's a quaint old colonial-style house where the owner is also the chef.

It's not inexpensive, but the food is excellent....and sometimes quaintness costs a little more.  I started off with a mimosa, followed by Eggs Florentine, and finally a generous piece of carrot cake. 

It was truly a lovely affair.  If only I'd had a fascinator...

Could ya squeeze that a little tighter please?

This morning I had a mammogram appointment. I was a few months late this year, but usually I'm very diligent.  I've always had good results over the years, but I know it doesn't take much for things to go haywire.  So I got to talking to the technician.  I think her name was Regina.  Regina told me how powerful these machines are nowadays... as she walked over to her desk and marked a few barely-visible pencil dots on a piece of paper to illustrate her point.

"I only made 3 dots," she said, "but there could very well be 10 and those could be troublesome."  This got me to wondering.

"How long does it take a doctor to review a scan?" I asked.

"Well, I know it takes Dr. Jones (name changed to protect the guilty) about 15 or 20 minutes," she said.  "First he walks down to Dunkin Donuts and gets himself a big cuppa coffee and then he comes back to his office and shuts the door."

Believe it or not, this little bit of information gave me great peace of mind.  It's a relief to know my radiologist is runnin' on Dunkin.

So now I have a confession to make.  Last night I joined some neighbors at the condo clubhouse.

I'm not a big fan of Bingo.  I just went to be charitable.  My neighbor Barbara wanted to go and I was pretty sure she wouldn't go alone. Sometimes I'll make a sacrifice for a friend as long as there is no risk of bodily harm, and no possibility of getting sucked into some sort of home-party scheme.  Neither one of us won. I'm pretty sure the cards were faulty...

I've been trying to learn how to make wet-felted flowers.  This is different from the other felted flowers I make--the crocheted ones I put in the washing machine.  Wet felting involves layering pieces of wool roving, then wetting it and manipulating it so that it eventually becomes like a felt fabric.  Here's my first attempt:

The thing is, the wet-felting process takes a lot of patience....something I'm often short on.  But the flowers I've seen are so impressive I'm pretty motivated.  I think they would look fab on my felted handbags.  Maybe I'll lock myself in the Treehouse some evening and get serious about this felting business. I'll dose myself up with caffeine. I run better on Dunkin too.

Putting up preserves

I had the idea of preserving my crocheted rocks for future generations.  This will insure that any grandchildren, or great grandchildren, will know that their grandmother, or great grandmother, was a slightly wacky woman. I was really more concerned that they would spoil if left out on the windowsill.  Funny....this jar--that for many years held Q-tips--was just the right size for all of the rocks in my collection. I love when my plans proceed without a hitch.

The weather has been absolutely beautiful in Connecticut for the last week or so.  These kinds of days are treasures after enduring the cold and muck and slush of winter.  I realize now how much I took for granted those endless days of summer growing up in southern California.  When Mr. Gadget suggested a walk in the park this morning I quickly agreed.  The park we go to is just up the road and is always well-kept, thanks to the work of a big team of volunteers.

 

On our walk, I collected a few things with fall craft projects in mind. 

Even though my witches are big sellers at the old hotel show, it's good to offer a few different things to keep buyers intrigued.

I added a little more paper to the pickle jar.  You've probably guessed...

He'll be a cat



who's fluffy and fat.

His name will be Pickles.

He'll have a tummy for tickles

and an nice round head to pat.

 

My bad

I completely forgot the puffins.  I was reminded of my neglect by their squawking.  It's hard to imagine just how much racket three small puffins can make.  This project has been sitting idle for a while because I'm not happy with the ground they're standing on.  And I can't stand the thought of ripping out all those French knots.  Maybe I'll just rip out the blue ones.  I think they're the ones that annoy me the most.

So I just reserved the clubhouse for Celebrating our Creativity day here at the condos.  It will be the afternoon of June 8.  That should give me plenty of time to plan, and round up more victims, I mean talented and creative residents.  There shouldn't be very much work involved, but I am thinking of making some sort of banner for just outside the clubhouse door.  I should be able to whip something up in 10 or 15 minutes....

And while I was sitting out in the warm spring sunshine with Mr. Gadget today, I covered an empty pickle jar with newspaper. 

I'm recycling it into a piece of art.....or junk.  I'll decide which category when I'm a little further along.

Oh, and just because I need a few more projects, I'm considering taking on another doll challenge with Art Doll Quarterly magazine. Remember Vinny? The theme for this one is the circus.  Yesterday I went to the local library--you know, the one with the musty aroma that I like so much--and checked out some circus books from the children's department.  I looked at clowns, elephants, jugglers, seals with balls on their noses, and lions and tigers...oh my.  But nothing really piqued my interest.  So I've come to the conclusion that, if I do decide to take on this challenge, I'm going to have to invent a whole new kind of circus performer.  But don't run right out and put up the tent yet.

A mind like a birdcage

Many years ago....probably back in the 70's because that's when things like this were cool....I took a course in Transcendental Meditation.  I paid my money, showed up at someone's house, was assigned a trainer, and received my mantra.  I was told it was a mantra tailor-made for me, but I'm sure it was pretty much everyone else's mantra too.  All of us trainees were instructed to sit quietly, close our eyes, and silently repeat our mantras for 20 minutes. If our minds wandered....which they would....we should gently refocus on the mantra. We were assured that this was just the nature of the meditative practice.  

Several years later....I think it was during the 80's ....I found a better way to meditate.  I bought myself a wooden hoop, some thread, and a package of needles.  I became an embroiderer.  I stitched and stitched and let me mind wander wherever the heck it wanted to go.  And now when I'm stressed, or life isn't treating me kindly, I go right to the embroidery.  I'm almost a zen master.

For a while I was just stitching roosters.

Lately I've become fond of parrots.  Back in 1990 (I know this because I saved the newspaper) I cut out this picture and stuffed it in an envelope called things I might someday decide to embroider.

I have no idea why a parrot was used to advertise a high-end plumbing store, but it did get my attention....what with the vibrant colors and that sly look on his face. 

Maybe I'll frame him and hang him in the bathroom....over the toilet.  From his perch up there, he'll be looking down on all of the bathroom-goers...silently admonishing them--with his parrot-eye--not to forget to wash their hands.

The top ten

 Cuba

 The pool rooster

 Rain

 In my next lifetime

 Restaurant

 Doorstop

 The accommodations

 Sunset

 Boat

Iguana



A view from a beach chair

Greetings from Grand Cayman....where the palm trees and iguanas are plentiful, and where poultry--one rooster and two hens--patrol the pool deck.  The iguanas come out in the afternoons to loll in the sun, and the chickens make their appearance around the cocktail hour.

The weather has been great and I've been spending most of my time reading.  It's good to give the knitting muscles a rest now and then.  On my Kindle I have Mrs. Kennedy and Me by Clint Hill who was the Secret Service agent assigned to protect her.  And from the library I have This is How by Augusten Burroughs.  It's a departure from his usual style.  In it he writes about how to deal with many of life's challenges, and his suggestions are simple and refreshing.  I'm about halfway through The Shoemaker's Wife--which I wasn't able to finish in time for a library discussion group before I left.

I did get word from the deciders...who decided my idea for a "Celebrating our Creativity" day at the condo complex was a good one and that they will even provide some food and drink and clean-up.  Did I ever mention that I'm not an organizer?  I'm the type who likes to work in the background--doing posters, serving coffee, taking the trash out and those kinds of things.  I wonder what's come over me?  I think I'd better go back out to my beach chair and contemplate things....

Leaving the perch

Mr. Gadget and I are going away for a week.  But, alas, it is not a cruise!  Our friends have a timeshare in Grand Cayman and have invited us to join them.  And we have an empty week on the calendar, so why not?  We have to leave for the airport at 5:00 a.m. tomorrow morning, but after that it should be pain-free.

So I thought I'd share a photo of something I made for Big City Girl.

Tree placemats and wine-glass cloth napkins.  I tried to find fabric with leaves for the napkins, but no luck, so I went with the wine.  She has some red dishes that should look nice with them.  I'm hopeful they won't morph into dustmops.

Now I'm going to finish packing and get to bed at a reasonable hour.  Then I'll lay awake worrying about whether the alarm will go off. And if I packed everything I'll need.  And if there'll be road construction on the way to the airport.  And if the flight will be bumpy.  And if I'll have the courage to wear my bathing suit.  Sometimes traveling can be a lot of work.....but somebody's gotta do it...

Roosting on a perch of possibilities

Finally, after four years in the Concondo, the building next to ours is finished and we have a new neighbor. She seems like a pleasant woman, although how much can one discern from a quick howdy-while-passing-a-plate-of-cookies moment?  Time will tell. 

 

Her condo is a mirror image of ours, so my Treehouse windows are almost directly opposite hers--although I doubt that she names her rooms like I do. But I'm kinda curious what she thinks of the crocheted rocks on my windowsill.

And crocheted rocks are a little unusual in themselves, but what must she think of the critters that live on them?  I'm assuming her eyesight is better than mine.  Then again, I've been known to get the binoculars out if I'm really intent on poking into someone's business.  

And it's not as if there's just one critter.  They seem to be multiplying.  This new neighbor may have already decided to keep a safe distance from me.

So, I'm about to hatch a plan.  An idea bubbled up in my brain the other day (Mr. Gadget calls these brain farts).  Wouldn't it be fun, I thought, for all of the creative people in the complex to gather for a show-and-tell.  There are many talented residents.  There's Mr. Gadget with his woodworking. There's a Norwegian knitter, a model shipbuilder, a textile artist, a jewelry maker.....and me with all my stuff.  And new people are moving in all the time.  Who knows what treasures are yet to be discovered?

I've proposed the idea to the deciders and am now waiting for an answer.  Soon I should know if it's fledge-ready.....or if I've just laid an egg.

A short wedding verse

It was a lavish and high-spirited production;

the ring-bearer's pillow was the star.

 

Of the interesting cast of characters,

Big City Girl was most beautiful by far!

 Today we're all in recovery

from the open bar and cake.

But mostly from the earsplitting music

that caused us to shudder and quake.



 

More blood-letting

I've discovered a new hobby.  Not that I need a new hobby.  It's called needle-felting and it's almost as life-threatening as woodcarving.  Good thing I stocked up on bandaids.

And really, the dried blood doesn't show much on the black.  This is the first of my felted bags--the one I wasn't thrilled with.  It's not obvious in the photo, but the edge of the flap doesn't lay flat.  So I decided to use it as a practice piece.....and now...I think some of the thrill is back.  I'll put the strap on and a snap closure and keep it in the family.

I decided, for a change, that it might be wise to get some lessons on needle felting before jumping in blindly--as I am so often wont to do. So I went to that magic how-to-do-anything place--Youtube.  It's so handy to have an everything teacher right here in the house.

After viewing a few videos I just sort of belly-flopped in. And, surprisingly, it's pretty easy to do.  Certain needle-felted items might take some practice, but just punching colorful wool fibers into an already-felted bag wasn't all that difficult.  The trick is to keep the barbed needle--the tool of the trade--away from your fingers.  So it helps to have the bandaids handy.....and an urgent care facility just down the street.

I'll tell you more about needle felting soon.  Now I need to prepare for Big City Girl's arrival later today and the big wedding extravaganza this weekend.  The bride will be sorely mistaken if she thinks she'll be the center of attention at this gala affair. It will most definitely be the ring-bearer's pillow, don't we all agree?  I'm going to try to arrange for a spotlight to follow it down the aisle.  

Thirty-two

Mr. Gadget has a way with words. He always knows just the right words for what he means, and he rarely goes off on tangents like I do. 

So when he shopped for a card to give me on our anniversary yesterday, he selected one that was short and to the point.

He waited until today to give me my gift.  He went with a friend to the car show in NYC, and left me in the house alone all day.  It was almost as good as chocolate.

I felt a little sorry for him though.  Since his friend was driving, Mr. G. offered to pay for the parking.  The bill was $60.  That's New York for you.  Actually, it was just $50, but there was a premium for a pick-up truck....which is what his friend was driving.  But his friend took pity on Mr. Gadget--since they had no idea the parking would be so expensive--and he offered to split it with him.  So it was almost a bargain at $30, and left him enough to pay $5 for a third-rate hot dog. 

I enjoyed my alone time, and was blissfully wallowing in the solitude...until the grounds crew started up one of their fancy machines.

It was a mulch-spreader-hose thingie and it was loud.  And it took two guys to operate it.....one to hold the hose, and one to talk with Mulch Headquarters to get specific instructions on spreading the mulch...that he then passed on to the  hose guy.  Mr. Gadget arrived home just as they were finishing the spreading of the mulch, and then it was time to decide what to make for dinner.

So I'm thinking this anniversary gift was clearly defective.  And I'm thinking of asking Mr. Gadget to return it for a better one.  One that's much quieter and a lot less mulchy.

Don't look a gift purse in the mouth

I've been working on felted shoulder bags and today I actually finished one. 

This will be a gift for a friend who really appreciates handmade things. Some friends don't.  It's a big mistake to give those friends handmade gifts.  That's something we makers of handmade things usually find out the hard way.  The only time we get to see the gift is when the recipient takes it out of the wrapped box. Then it moves on to a bottom drawer somewhere, or they pass it on to someone else--who they hope you don't know and therefore don't socialize with.  Because, otherwise, well, it could be a bit awkward or downright embarrassing.

The friend to whom I'm gifting this bag is always appreciative.  She'll be using this bag the very next time I see her, and she'll tell me how much she loves the color and the flower, and how the strap is just the perfect length, etc. etc.  She'll gush.  I'm always a little uncomfortable around gushers.  I'd just like to say, "enough already."  But, of course, I wouldn't do that.  Gushers love to gush, and who am I to deny them the opportunity.

I added a few sparkly beads to the flower.  This friend, who already has one of my red flower pins, commented once that I should make some with bead embellishments, since many women love a little bling.  I'm not the blingy type, so I don't often think of that.  But this friend, in addition to being a gusher, loves her bling.

She's also a dog person.  She has a Boston terrier.  So I'm thinking of making her a little something for her dog.  Did you see this free pattern from Joann's?

Isn't it the cutest!  It's almost enough to make me gush.   

Whoop-de-doo

Mr. Gadget and I are not big party people.  We'll never turn down an invitation to a party, but we rarely have parties ourselves and tend to celebrate family birthdays in an understated way.

Earlier this week Mr. Gadget observed his 65th birthday, and it was pretty much business as usual here at the Concondo. Just to make sure I didn't forget to wish him a happy birthday first thing in the morning, I put a sock on my nightstand the night before.  I'm pretty sure he didn't notice it, but then it really wouldn't have mattered because he already knows I'm nuts. 

Sometimes, if there's something important I need to remember, I'll put an object of some kind in a place where it absolutely doesn't belong.  Like for instance, if I need to remember to take something to someone, I'll put the TV remote in front of the door where I'd have to trip over it to get out.  Sometimes I put the object itself there, but obviously I can't very well do that with a lasagna.  I've found this to be a great memory trick and it's worked well for many years.  Maybe I should write a book.

I did get the special birthday placemat out for the occasion.

Mr. Gadget's brothers called to wish him a happy birthday.  His youngest brother and his wife are well known in the family as party animals.  They've rented big party boats and even flown to Paris to celebrate birthdays....especially big ones.

"What did you do for your big birthday?" asked younger brother when he called.

"Well," replied Mr. G, "I had some great stew and some delicious apple pie--both made by my lovely wife--and then I watched Jeopardy."

I'm not sure what his brother said after that.  It's possible he was at a loss for words. 

So, I finished knitting the white shoulder bag..... 

....and today I felted it in the washing machine.

 

Felted things usually come out of the washer misshapen and scrunched up. They require lots of poking and prodding and nudging.  It's a little like having children but the felted bags get with the program a lot more quickly.