Artsy-Craftsy

Once in a while, between my knitting and dollmaking escapades, I venture into the world of arts and crafts, but usually only with some specific purpose in mind. Over the last couple of days I've been gathering supplies for a special project. Hopefully I will have some photos soon. Meanwhile, any guesses?

Yesterday Mr. G. and I took a ride down to a nearby beach town where there was a craft fair happening. A normally-busy insection had been barricaded off to cars, and as soon as we got into the fair we immediately saw this:
If you look carefully, you'll see a man roasting a pig. I'm pretty sure it's not the China pig, although I guess we'll never know for sure what with all the imports....

After we left the craft show, we decided to walk by Mr. G's old apartment which is in the same neighborhood. There's really nothing special about it.....just an ordinary apartment building among other apartment buildings.
Except this is the view across the street:

It was quite the bachelor pad back in the day. Sometimes we like to hark back to our carefree dating days.....like when we've had to bale water out of a flooded basement or deal with the antics of the terrible teens.....or shovel a foot of snow off the driveway.....or go on bat patrol.

So poor Mr. Gadget isn't feeling well today. Just about the time his jet lag subsided, he came down with a bad cold. While I was gone on my little arts and crafts odyssey, he decided to take a nap. Apparently his timing was off. No sooner had I left and he'd put his head on the pillow, the phone rang and then the smoke alarm went off twice. There was no smoke and no fire I'm happy to report. He had just changed the batteries yesterday because it had started to chirp, so I guess it was just a glitch.

You've got to wonder, though, if it isn't some paranormal activity that might be in some way related to our toaster oven in Connecticut that beeps at odd times to tell us the toast is done when no one has been doing any toasting. And then there was the whistling Mr. G heard in our basement one day when he was down there working quietly at his desk. It unhinged him a bit which was unusual, since Mr. G. is always very well-hinged. I told him maybe it was his mother paying him a visit. When she was alive, she used to enjoy telling us stories of her growing up days in New York City when her father wouldn't allow her to whistle because it wasn't ladylike.

Well, now I've gone off on a totally unplanned tangent. Mr. G is dozing on the couch. I suggested he go to bed but he says it's too early. Maybe it's a good time to start my artsy-craftsy project. The dishes are done, the jet lag is gone, and for the time being the spirits are quiet.....