The alumni

One of the perks of being a member of the local senior center--and I really feel a little irreverent saying this--is that when another member "graduates" and moves on to join The Alumni Association, their family members, facing that monumental task of dispersing of the departed's worldly goods, often donate yarn and crafty things to the center.

And if these graduates had a real honest-to-goodness stash like I do, and their loved ones had to dig down through several archeological ages to unearth every last relic--all the better. These are the real treasures. If I were to graduate any time soon, poor Mr. Gadget would have to rent a semi.

Things are going well with the new writing group. Most of the people who came to the first meeting returned for the second. I think that's a good sign. It tickles me how people always tend to return to the same seats at these sorts of things. Maybe it's a carry-over from school days when we were all assigned seats so the teacher could keep chatty friends from sitting together, or to make attendance-taking easier. My mother-in-law, who attended church daily, always sat in the same spot in the same pew--and if someone else, God forbid, was sitting in her seat when she arrived, they were in for the glare. I wonder if she was just a creature of habit, or if she knew God was taking attendance. If the latter is true, I'm in big trouble.

So, I've decided to share my contest doll. The deadline is over, and I'm sure all of the submissions are now being reviewed. As I understand it, none of the dollmakers will be notified one way or the other if their creation has made the cut. It will either appear or not appear in the Spring 2012 issue of Art Doll Quarterly. I'm not sitting on pins and needles. It was a fun project and I enjoyed the process, and it was my first attempt at making a doll using a wire armature. I'll definitely do another.

Here's a close-up of his face. Vinny likes to cook, but he also likes the wine and occasionally takes a nip.

Here's Vinny in the early stages.

I hope he hasn't totally corrupted his shelf-mates at the magazine office. When I left him, his bottle was almost empty--but who knows? There may be an enabler in the crowd.