Happy Halloween!

Our condo complex has a good plan for dealing with trick-or-treaters. 100% of the trick-or-treaters are grandchildren of residents, so between the hours of 3 and 5 p.m. these little monsters.....I mean, sweet costumed grandchildren....can come around asking for treats. And residents can turn on their outside lights during these hours if they are in a giving frame of mind.

Mr. Gadget and I didn't turn on our lights. We ate all of our Halloween candy a week ago...

Socktober sunrise

This is what I saw when I looked outside this morning at 7 a.m. The sun was coming up over the hills to the east and beginning to illuminate the hills to the west. Quite a sight. It almost made me forget the queasiness.

I've made progress on the socks.

I haven't finished the toe on sock #1. Toe-finishing is not my favorite part of knitting. I'll just save it till I'm done with sock #2 and do them both at once.....with a glass of wine....or better yet, a piece of chocolate...or four. They are kinda festive-looking. The ladies in the senior center knitting group--where I've been working on them--admire my youthful spirit.

I've been working on a pilgrim pair I've promised to other Marcia. I'm experimenting on the man's shoes. My pilgrim men usually wear boots, but one day I realized that male pilgrims would be better dressed in pilgrim shoes. So I googled a picture and did a sketch. They aren't finished yet, but when they are you'll be the first to judge. He'll have a hint of leg showing. I like that in a man.

So I unloaded an old dresser by way of Craig's List this morning. Mr. Gadget calls me the Queen of CL, since I always amaze him with the old pieces of junk I'm able to discard. What he doesn't realize is that junk is a relative term. It really is true that one person's trash is another's treasure.
Big City Girl got this gem long ago from her best friend. She had plans to collage it, and soon lost interest. It was a similar thing with a chair she purchased at the local flea market.

Both were abandoned in the parental basement storage facility. So today, some sucker, I mean some nice man, came by to pick up the dresser. He must have been intrigued by my description of the piece wherein I stated: "might make a nice canvas for some whimsical artwork."

And now for the chair. I should probably check with BCG before I discard it, but technically I think the statute of limitations has expired. How to advertise it, I wonder? Maybe: "with just a little bit of embellishment, this would make a perfect throne for the woman in your life." It could go in a heartbeat.

No traipsing through the pumpkin patch

Aside from the front-porch pumpkin, there are no real pumpkins here at the Concondo this year. I just hate handling rotting pumpkins, and that's usually what I end up doing along about the first of December....being the first-class procrastinator that I am.

I toyed with putting Mr. Pumpkin Man on eBay a couple of weeks ago, but I just couldn't get any good pictures of him. So I looked over my multifarious collection of characters and decided to put her up there instead. Buyers aren't clamoring, but that's ok. I have a couple more selling ops coming up. I've decided to sign up for another craft fair on Nov. 20--where I hope there won't be an overabundance of clamoring because whatever's left will be delivered the next day to the old hotel for the Christmas show. I always say that next year I won't let the stress of the holidays get to me, but I have a bad memory. Just about the time I'm wrapping up the craft-show whirwind, someone will ask me when they can expect to receive their copy of my cartoon Christmas page--something I stupidly did many years ago on a whim and now it's taken on a life of its own. And you know how I hate to disappoint.

So now I've got a few Santas in the works.

And I'm wondering how Santa would look in flannel jammies, a stocking cap and bunny slippers. Would one of those make buyers clamor, I wonder? I guess I don't have to decide on that right away. Bunny slippers are a little more challenging to make than plain black Santa boots. Then again, I should have some extra time since I won't be having to deal with rotten pumpkins.

No longer blizzard conditions

The weekend blizzard (The Tech Guy/Big City Girl Visit) has now blown out to sea and things are slowly getting back to normal. I'm pooped, and apparently I have no reason to be because I have no grandchildren.

Big City Girl endured her wisdom-teeth extraction like a trooper. The only part of the whole ordeal that reduced her to tears was when she fell asleep on the ice pack. But now she's back at work in the big city and finally enjoying some real food--which she assures me she is cutting in to small pieces.

Before she and Tech Guy left on Sunday, there was a Scrabble-off with Gadget Dad.

No, GD wasn't snoozing, although he has been known to nap while playing Scrabble with me. He was contemplating his assortment of letters.....

---which was probably better than TG's assortment.

He told me later he lost to the two of them, but I know that couldn't be true without some pretty wimpy Scrabble playing on his part. I never get involved in these contests. I'm better off, and less anxiety-ridden, just being the photographer.

BCG (aka Stefanie) was quite happy with my embroidered gift--a special apron.

She works in an office with a great bunch of techie-types, and once a week one of the guys, a former chef, prepares a gourmet lunch for all of his workmates. Sometimes BCG assists. Sometimes she even cooks in her own apartment. And once she even called me for some recipe advice. She was baking chicken pieces and didn't have a meat thermometer.

"You don't need one unless you're baking a whole chicken," I told her. "Just cut into the biggest piece and see if there's any pink. If there is, put it back in the oven for a few." I'm pretty sure that's how they do it at those big city five-star restaurants.

Which reminds me of a story. Before Mr. Gadget retired, we would occasionally be invited to big fancy business outings in NYC. These would usually involve dinner and a Broadway play. One of those dinners was at a 5-star restaurant. I won't mention the name. It was a long time ago. I ordered an entree with chicken pieces in a sauce, and every single bite was grisly and inedible.

I've told this story a few times, and no one ever believes me because of the 5 stars. Mr. Gadget believed me though, and thought I should have sent my plate back to the kitchen. I didn't for fear of embarrassing our host. Plus, I had plenty of room for the 5-star dessert--which I'm happy to report was gristle-free.

Reach for the stars!

It's Socktober

I'm feeling much better today. That ginger ale worked wonders. Still no siding guys in sight though, and no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to avoid those stomach-churning colors.I've been working on a pair of therapeutic socks. The socks aren't therapeutic, but the knitting is. There are very few knitting projects that aren't therapeutic. Well, I guess there were a couple of cantankerous cardigan sweaters that turned on me--sweaters that remain in indefinite time-out.

It's just a coincidence that I started a sock project in Socktober. I guess there's just something about the nip in the air and the trees changing color that puts me in a sock-knitting mood. Plus, it's always entertaining to knit with self-striping yarn. It's like a good mystery with plenty of colorful characters.

And speaking of colorful characters, yesterday Mr. Gadget and I took a ride up to the old hotel to see how I was doing at the craft fair. I was happy to learn that all 3 of my clay-faced witches had flown the coop. The pilgrim pair was gone too, as was Spud--the chef in the potato print. Disheveled Morning Lady sold too, much to my amazement, I mean delight. It must have been the bunny slippers. Maybe more of my characters will be wearing little pink bunny slippers next year.

On Thursday evening, Big City Girl will be coming for a visit. There won't be much time for conversation this time, as BCG is having all 4 of her wisdom teeth out on Friday morning. A couple of days ago, as I was putting groceries away, the muse stopped by with a new project idea. So now I'm working on a piece of embroidery with BCG in mind.

More will be revealed soon--as well as the story that goes with it.

Now I'm heading out to stock up on milkshake makins'. And maybe I'll pick up another bottle of ginger ale too while I'm at it.

Makes me queasy

I hope the vinyl-siding guys get busy soon on the building next door. Don't they make house-wrap in colors other than pistachio ice cream and Pepto Bismol?

So last night I attended the Gala Opening Night festivities for the craft fair at the old hotel. I didn't invite Mr. Gadget to come along, as I wanted to allow time to linger. Mr. G isn't a lingerer. He would have likely taken a spin around the rooms, downed a glass of wine, and been ready to come home to his comfy recliner and the baseball game. As it happened, I didn't linger long. I enjoyed a glass of apple cider and some tasty tidbits, and took a few pictures of my dolls on display. I was very pleased with how they were posed. The two ladies who co-chair the October fair have a nice flair for decorating.
The pilgrims were sitting with a beautiful wooden bowl and some small ceramic leaf dishes. Very nice.
The ladybug was perched on a basket among some knitted items. She and the red hat made a nice pair.
I especially liked how they placed the witch among similar colors.

The fair will run for 3 days, and it's beautiful Fall weather in the northeast--a nice change from the days and days of rain we've had lately. Hopefully there'll be lots of leaf-peepers out this weekend and they'll stop by the fair and buy a doll.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to pour myself a little glass of ginger ale to settle my stomach.

Clean sweep

This morning I sent the whole gang of Treehouse loiterers packing. They're off to the craft fair at the old hotel--which may or may not be haunted. I guess those who don't find homes will come back and let me know if there's any truth to that rumor. It was a lovely drive--about 25 minutes up the road along a colorful highway with the sun shining brightly. We haven't seen the sun in a long time, and I always feel cheated when we have days and days of rain in the Fall.

So yesterday I was emailing back and forth with Tech Guy, and during the course of our online conversation I determined that perhaps he was in need of some advice. Only I never call it advice. I call it Mom wisdom--which I cleverly disguise as a story. Someday I may put all of these stories in a book. Make that a pamphlet. Here is the story. Maybe you, too, will glean some wisdom from it.

Once upon a time long ago, when we were still living in the old house, we were singled out by a late-night mailbox vandal. Apparently this is big fun for a smattering of teenagers who reject more acceptable forms of entertainment like going to the movies or the mall, or fooling around in parked cars. The next morning we discovered our mailbox in the road, broken, dented and disheveled. Mr. Gadget did his best to cobble it back together. Little did he know then what an expert he would become at cobbling in the years ahead.

Anyway, a couple of nights later, in the wee hours, I awoke to a clattering coming from outside. I got up and looked out and sure enough, there was a car stopped right by our mailbox. Without delay I called the police to report the vandals, hoping that finally these nasty hooligans would get their due. Well, come to find out, the vandal was really the friend of a neighbor, and his car muffler had fallen off right in front of our mailbox.

So, the moral of the story--and I never mention the word moral to TG because then he'd be onto me--is that sometimes something looks like a duck and sounds like a duck, but it's really a pigeon.