Gardening

This is my kind of gardening.  No dirty fingernails.  No sweating. No bending over.  I realize I don't have a big variety of flowering things in my garden. I probably should branch out but I really prefer mystery plantings that I make up in my head.  Sometimes I even add a few beads. Seed beads...

I find this activity very relaxing in light of the fact that everything outside of my Treehouse gardening shed is one giant compost pile.

So, Mr. Gadget and I live in a very nice condo complex that sits right on a state road.  There was lots of traffic when we moved in, but a bypass was in the works that soon diverted most of it.  For some reason the weekend motorcyclists prefer the old road.  I guess they like to mosey.  Although they do occasionally take the bypass to see how many decibels they can crank up when the police are on a coffee break.  Either way the noise can ruin a good nap. 

Then there are the chickens.  They belong to the residents of a small house just to the south side of our development.  We're on the north side--which is fine with me because I like to sleep till 7:30. That's long after the rooster begins his cockadoodles. There are also ducks and a small flock of turkeys.  Sometimes they all join in song.  We've wondered if there'll soon be goats, but so far so good.  Although I don't mind admitting I like to watch baby goats when they jump and prance.  I'd have to take my lawn chair down there in that case.

Yesterday we noticed two porta-potties and a tent in their barnyard. Immediately I thought maybe the circus was coming to town.  Then I considered other possibilities: a party,  a wedding, or a good old- fashioned revival. I think I'll stay on the lookout for elephants just in case...  

My feelings exactly

Here's my grumpy old lady doll in progress.  She looks like I feel, except she needs an angrier face.  I can fix that.  Haven't we all just had enough?  We need a fairy godmother.  Or maybe a fairy dogmother.  I saw that on the side of a truck this morning.  I don't care which.  One or the other. Someone who can wave a magic wand and make our current depressing state of affairs go away.  

This is one of two dolls from a pattern by Sweet Meadow Farm.  I bought it a long time ago with the idea of making the pair to sit in my grandma's old rocking chair.  And now that I have no plans or deadlines....or cruises.....I have plenty of time to make these ladies.  And, hopefully, I'll get them finished before I am one of them.  Oh, wait a minute....

This one kinda reminds me of my grandma--the mother of dear ol' dad.  She lived up the street from us during my growing-up years. She had two friends who lived with her--one who she'd known since childhood--and they had the babysitting monopoly in town.  When they got so busy they couldn't accommodate their regulars, grandma would tell them, "but I have a granddaughter..."  That's how I amassed my impressive record collection.

Grandma always wore a flowered dress and little old lady shoes (size 4-1/2).  At one time those shoes were quite the thing among young women and she donated a couple of pair to my sister. How she was able to fit into them I don't remember, but they did have open toes. Grandma always carried a handbag with a ball of crochet thread and a hook.  She never went anywhere without her handwork. Rarely do I either. We were alike in many ways, well, except for the flowered dresses.

After Grandma was widowed she learned to drive.  The job of teaching her fell to my dad--bless his heart!  Grandpa had left her with a big old Plymouth sedan with a stick shift, and a skinny driveway with two hills.  Eventually she mastered the task--at least well enough to pass her driving test and to drive all of her friends to the senior citizens center once a week.  I don't remember ever riding with her.  After all, I had records to listen to.

A few years ago I was sitting around reminiscing with some of my relatives. My dad's cousin happened to mention that my grandma had a reputation in the family for being a little ditzy. I certainly don't remember that about her.  She was just Grandma who gave nice hugs, had a big toy box in her hall closet, and baked chocolate chip cookies.  Who knows what they'll say about me after I'm gone.  Is ditziness genetic I wonder?

Happy 4th...a little late

Back when I was making dolls, I had a character for almost every holiday.  They all started with the same basic doll pattern and then I accessorized to suit the character.  I got lots of mileage out of that pattern.  In fact, I had to duplicate it several times because it got tattered and worn.  It's one of the reasons I save paper grocery bags.  They work well when I need to make a pattern because they hold up well to lots of pinning.

Sometimes I'd get a request for a different sort of character.  I made a lion once.  Then there was a teddy bear and a gingerbread man, and a pilgrim couple. One of my favorites was a red hat lady.  

I accumulated quite a collection.  Several are pictured in my blog banner.

I eventually ran out of gas for making these dolls--which I referred to as the beanbags for their weighted bottoms and chubby appearance. But I still have all of my patterns and I could jump back in whenever the mood strikes me.

So Mr. Gadget and I have decided to skip our annual summer trip to the Calcondo.  With the virus being under control here in Connecticut, and threatening to run amok in California, it seemed like a wise decision  We've alerted our neighbors and made arrangements for our car to be exercised.  I'm sure the spiders will be settling in.  If they decide to have a party, we're hoping they'll leave the wine alone.

And now, as if the virus wasn't enough, we're hunkering down for Tropical Storm Faye.  She's making her way north.  Mr. Gadget thinks only of the potential for a power outage and the likelihood of being without his gadgets. I, on the other hand, think of it as an opportunity to sit in my recliner, read my Kindle, enjoy some snack meals, and crank up the camp lantern.  "Think of it as an adventure!" I enthusiastically suggest.

He's gone off to the man cave to sulk.

Mask up!

Life continues to get more complicated.  There was a day when a gal could just grab her handbag and her car keys and go.  Now she needs a check list: cell phone, grocery bags, reading glasses, hand sanitizer, wipes, mask and a water bottle. This all in addition to the handbag and car keys.  It makes a gal wonder why she should ever leave her recliner.

You will notice that I've made a few more masks.  It started when I offered to make Mr. Gadget a spare.  You may remember the wine-cork one I made for him a while back.  This one has bicycles.  Mr. Gadget loves his bicycles.  He has an east coast one and a west coast one.  Just like me with my two sewing machines, although his bicycles burn carlories and my sewing machines not so much.

Yesterday I noticed that my sunglasses were a little loose and were starting to fall down over my mask.  So I asked Mr. Gadget if he had a gadget that could help him do a repair.  After a bit of searching through his tools he was confident he did.  It wasn't long before a string of expletives began to waft up the stairs.  I've learned not to panic unless I see blood.  Long story short: I'm due for some new glasses anyway, and Mr. Gadget doesn't think he needs to see a doctor for the hole in his thumb.

So the elves-on-ladder project is coming along.  I'm in the glue-up process (a woodworking term that works for felting too).  All of the components are being affixed and the elves will be ready for some serious Christmas-tree decorating soon.  I'll have to think of a way to hold them back until December.  The pub is a possibilitiy.

Neat and tidy....for a few minutes anyway

I finally got my fabric organized.  Well, I should say, some of it.  It's all thanks to the dollar store where I've managed to collect an assortment of canvas collapsible boxes.  They're just the right size for my big cubby thingie.  So now, what should I make?  All of this neatness kinda puts me off-balance.

Then, while I was searching around for an old padded envelope that I could re-use to mail something to Big City Girl (the dollar store was out of those) I found a pattern for a Christmas stocking.  And I thought maybe it would be fun to make some patchwork stockings.  And then I thought maybe it would be best to finish the patchwork jacket first.  And maybe the needle-felted elves and the ladder project.  And that's what happens.  By the time I get to the deciding part it's time to make dinner.

Haute Couture

Last week I got a new phone...not that I needed one.  My old phone was serving me well.  I'm a gal who rarely uses her phone and considers it mostly just for emergencies.  But Mr. Gadget believed I needed to be more modern and up-to-date.  If I had my way I'd retire completely from the technology world.  Well, almost. I do enjoy writing the blog. And I like the occasional texting to and fro with Big City Girl.  Just not the part where I have to dish out mom advice in short, quick pokes.

So here I am now with my brand new phone and, thankfully, a book entitled I-phones for Seniors.  I almost made it to Chapter 2 before I had to ask Mr. G to translate a few tech-speak abbreviations. WTH!  Obviously there needs to be a book called I-phones for Senior Dummies.  

One of the first things I did was make my new phone a patchwork jacket.

I've made several of these phone jackets for friends.  The biggest challenge was finding Velcro in the colors I wanted.  Lucky for me, I live just a train ride away from NYC and the garment district.  Big City Girl was happy to meet me for lunch and Velcro shopping.

I lost my previous phone jacket in a restaurant near San Francisco.  It would have been too small for my new phone anyway.  Sometimes when something goes missing I just accept that it was ready to be adopted by a new owner.  So I hope that person is enjoying a pretty red and purple handmade phone jacket that's been around the block a few times.

More patchwork

While Mr. Gadget and I were at the Calcondo earlier this year I made a patchwork jacket.

It was a rather ambitious project I must say. There was a time, many years ago, when I made most of my own clothes. Sometimes I even ventured outside the box and attempted to copy something that had intrigued me. So when I had the idea for the patchwork jacket, I was hopeful my old sewing skills would come back to me.....kind of like riding a bicycle.

It all started with a vision of something in black, white and gray.  It came to me after browsing online to see what other creative jacket makers were doing.  I especially liked Pearl's. So I searched for a pattern and started in...with the idea that this project would be an experiment.  Maybe it would match my vision.  If not, I would tweak it a bit to see if I could beat it into submission. And if nothing came of it, it would go right to the scrap heap.  It certainly wasn't a big investment.  It would be constructed with fabrics from my stash and a few small purchased pieces to complement what I had.

I'm very happy with the result.  It fits well, partly because the front fasteners are only on the top half and allow for plenty of ease over the hips....which is a great benefit for a woman whose hips are from another era.  If I make another one, which I'm already contemplating, I will make it a little longer.  And I might leave off the collar.  Something in dark blues and rust tones might be interesting.  I'm already salivating.  But first, I have to clean my plate.

Small fibers of goodness

There's a lot of bad news at the moment.  Sad, depressing, discouraging news. But I do have a few small tufts of good news to report. The neighborhood birds have made use of my repurposed Clementine bag o' fiber in their nest constructions.

This morning Mr. Gadget decided to dismantle the annual bird nest at the top of our deck awning. I had admonished him to wait until it had been vacated, and no peeps had been heard for a week or two. Today I gave him the go-ahead. Those birds were an industrious bunch with a substantial construction crew.  When the twigs and feathers started to land on the deck below I was able to see the fruits of my efforts.

Mr. Gadget rolled his eyes when I told him I'd sweep up the mess because I wanted to pick through the debris and maybe take a photo or two. 

Next year I will crochet a small bag for the fiber.  I have the perfect cording I discovered during an archeological dig here in the Treehouse.  And maybe I'll add some brighter colors to the stash.  Perhaps that will result in more interesting debris to examine.  I am easily amused.

If only the world's woes could be remedied with a small bag o' fiber.

A chronic case of startitis

During my not-so-serious quest to clean up the Treehouse during my stay-at-home time I've uncovered a few, I mean a really big  collection of, old projects that I never finished. I'm trying not to fret. I know I'm not unlike a lot of other creative folks whose imaginations crank out ideas much faster than their hands can keep up.  

Sometimes I think of my craft room as an archeological site.
Here's what made it to the surface over the weekend:

It's my collection of fabric patches that I had planned to use to make a bag (http://www.teeshamoore.com/portfolio/fabric-art/).  At some point I ran out of steam.  This happened after I realized just how many patches a bag would require.  I very quickly came to my senses and stashed the patches in the Treehouse closet---destined to become part of the strata.  

Recently I excavated them. I've decided to stitch them together into a wallhanging.   I have more patches to add, and more patches in mind to make, so it may forever remain a work-in-progress. A perpetual personal totem as it were.

Another relic from the site is my bag o' scraps. 

Some of those have now become a placemat.

I guess you could say I also suffer from chronic hoarditis...

Got socks?

The elves and I went for an outing to the sock store.  The three of them chose stripes, as you can see, and now they're anxious to get back up on the ladder.  But they'll have to wait until the final accessorizing is complete.  They've decided to wait in the pub.

On Saturday Mr. Gadget and I drove to Brooklyn to see Big City Girl.  We had decided it might be nice to take her a few things, and we hadn't seen her since Christmas.  Parents can always talk to their children on the phone, I mean by text messages--in skimpy little bursts of abbreviations-- but now and then we need to do an eyeball check.  Fortunately she passed and all is well. She's been busily working from home and managing quite well during these difficult times.  She seemed genuinely excited to receive our hand-me-down rechargeable vacuum.

After we made our delivery we all took a walk to Prospect Park and sat on a bench in front of the lake.  From our vantage point there was no evidence that we were in the middle of large besieged city.  There were geese and sparrows and red-winged blackbirds flitting all around, and even people on horses taking a leisurely meander. I'm happy BCG has a refuge.  She goes often to sit on the grass and read.

We returned to Connecticut in traffic that belied a lockdown, and immediately perched on our deck chairs to recuperate from activity overload.  I'm happy to say, though not so much for the elves, that sock season has officially ended.

Who is that elf in the bicycle shorts?

 

Maybe he finds them more comfortable than regular elf pants.  I'll speak to him about that.  He needs to dress more properly.

So, this is the elf at the bottom of the ladder...the one who schleps the goods from the truck.  He's sort of pinned together for the photo op and needs more work, but you can get a sense of where I'm going with this art installation.

I had planned on smaller ornaments, but then I decided it might be more whimsical to make them bigger to give the elves more of a challenge.  My vision is to have the ladder stand on the floor and lean up against a regular Christmas tree. And...here's how my mind works...nearby would be a little U-Haul truck filled with more ornaments.  But I'm not going there.  

I'm also working on the other two elves.  My curiosity about the finished project has propelled me along and makes me forget all of the housework that needs doing and the many other distasteful chores.  Mr. Gadget has been very kind to do the grocery shopping and I have to say he's done a remarkably good job...except for the celery.  He goes early on Sunday mornings during senior hours, and worries about waking me up with our noisy garage door. I'm a lucky woman and I'm certainly smart enough to know not to make a fuss about rotten celery.

The couple that quilts together....

…..is really unusual, don't you think?

So a week ago Mr. Gadget went down to the basement to his quilting studio, I mean his wood shop. For several days I heard the sounds of the table saw, the music of the shop vac, and smelled the familiar aroma of urethane wafting up the stairs.  I didn't dare go down to investigate.  I knew I would get the big reveal when the time was right.  That was this morning.

Here is his quilted piece, I mean hardwood trivet, displayed next to my quilted iPad cover. You can see that his is much more precise than mine, but I get some credit for using interesting designs.  His is made from oak, walnut, maple and cherry, and mine is circles, moons, and a hint of giraffe.  It's amazing what a retired couple can produce with a lockdown and a buffer zone.

Gainfully employed

Here's a rough sketch of my idea for elves on the ladder, and the first of three elves who will be working thereon. The one on top will get hazardous duty pay.  The one on the bottom will earn a bonus for hauling the goods from the truck to the ladder.  And the middle guy is the ne'er-do-well.  He's just sitting idly on the ladder dreaming about his coffee break.  It's much like a regular construction zone.

A cat rock with tutorial

So, here's my cat on a rock as promised.  Mr. Gadget let me borrow him long enough for a photo op.  His eyes aren't very well defined in this photo, but his ears are good.  There was no need to yank them off and do over.

Here's how he was constructed in case you want to make your own kitty on a rock.  First, find a rock.  This one came from the beach, but I've also helped myself to one or two from a front yard in my neighborhood.  After dark.  With a flashlight.  Just kidding.

Then, brush off the dirt and cover the rock with aluminum foil. My cat was made with paperclay, but Sculpey works well too.  The advantage of paperclay is that it air dries.  Other types of clay have to be baked in the oven, and most cats don't like that...

Form your cat on the foil-covered rock and let it dry.  You really don't need any special modeling tools.  Nail files, small knives and toothpicks will work.  You'll want a small craft paint brush to dip in water and use to do some smoothing work on him. I usually do this along the way to keep him moist and to smooth out any wrinkles.

After a few days he'll be dry, and you'll be very happy at this point that you used the foil.  Just gently remove the cat and the foil from the rock.  Slowly peel away any remaining stubborn foil.  Kitty's rock will be nice and tidy, but he might need a little once-over with some fine sandpaper.

You can paint a base coat on him....or not...this isn't a big deal. I use gesso. Then have fun painting your cat any color(s) you choose.  Regular craft paint works fine.  When mine was done and dry I added some accents (mouth, toes, etc.) with a fine black permanent marker.  Then I added a glossy sealer to make him shiny.  A satin sealer will work well too and he'll be a little more muted. Note:  Make sure it's a permanent marker or the sealer will smear it.

The final step is to glue him onto the rock.  Hot glue or tacky glue would work, but my glue of choice....which I learned about through trial and error and tears....is E-6000.  Here are some helpful hints:

• Buy the package with 4 small tubes.  It doesn't keep well.
• Before gluing, try the cat on the rock to find the right fit and put several light pencil marks around the base.  

Enjoy your cat-making project.  I suggest you take a bag along when you go rock hunting.  You'll probably want to make several.  And don't forget the flashlight.

What's she makin' now?

In early December last year I stopped by the annual holiday bazaar at our local senior center.  I always enjoy browsing through the room they set aside for flea-market trinkets. It was there that I had a light-bulb moment.  Wouldn't it be fun to combine one of my needle-felted creatures with an old timeworn object that had been languishing in someone's musty, mildewed basement?  So I picked through the offerings and found this small weathered ladder. I just knew it would be the perfect complement to one of my handmade whimsies.

Mr. Gadget offered to clean it up for me and add a couple of coats of sealer.  He's learned never to question my reasons for choosing whatever it is I send down to his basement workshop for remedial work.  Early on I told him, "Don't worry, it will be wonderful!"

So, my plan is to affix two elves to the ladder. One will stand near the top rung holding an ornament for a Christmas tree. The other one will be down closer to the bottom with more ornaments in hand.  I'm counting on the ladder (it's about two-feet high) to lean nicely against a Christmas tree.  And I'm imagining that when people see it they will say, "Oh wow!  What a clever idea!"

You can see some of my felting process in this sorry-looking elf.  But he will soon come to life and you might be pleasantly surprised at my elf-making abilities. I've never made an elf before.  But I'm confident. I'll just add some little pointy shoes, a colorful pointy hat and an eye twinkle to my gnome blueprint.

And here, sitting on the top rung, is a cat with no ears. (No, he's no relation to the elves.) He had ears until yesterday when I yanked them off. They just weren't right. They weren't cat ears.  I have to listen to my inner-crafter intuition at all times.  It rarely steers me wrong.  I find cats difficult to needle-felt.  The body isn't the problem.  It's the head. It's hard to get the snout (do cats have snouts?) the right shape.  But I will perservere because I like cats.  Did I ever post a photo of my clay cat sitting on a rock?  Mr. Gadget claimed it for his man cave.  I will show it to you next time.

Now I must go and sit in my recliner to rest up from a very busy day of doing absolutely nothing.

Call the ghostbusters

Mr. Gadget just rolls his eyes when I tell him I think there might be ghosts in our house.  He's a black-and-white kind of guy. I'm more likely to allow a little color in. 

Whenever I've heard a loud clunk coming from another room, or noticed the lights flickering on my bedside table lamp, he usually has a good explanation. He didn't have one, however, for the time I saw the motion-sensor light in the downstairs bathroom came on in the middle of the night.  It wasn't pets.  We have none.

So this morning around 9:30 he called me from the bedroom.  "Come in here and take a look at this orb," he said--clueless to the fact that orbs are round.  He knows I have an interest in orbs.  I've seen quite a few around family members in pictures I've taken.

So I scurried in hoping to see more evidence.

I have to say, it was rather striking.  Mr. Gadget's first name starts with an F.  It seemed it was meant just for him.  What could it mean?  Well, of course it was just the sun and blinds playing a little game with us.  We do see bright lines on the walls occasionally, but never on this lampshade, or any lampshade for that matter.  I'm calling it a forb.  This hasn't swayed Mr. Gadget's thinking in the least, although he did say if he ever sees an "M' on the lamp he might reconsider.

Easter bunnies `

First, just so you know, these are NOT my slippers.  They belong to the morning lady--a doll I made a few years ago.  

I'm not a religious person and have never been a regular church-goer. I know some of you will judge, especially one of my cousins who has been trying to save me for years.  My mother went to church occasionally and I often went with her. My dad not at all.  Neither ever told me which religion to follow. They left it up to me to decide.  During my youth I tried out different ones by going to church with friends and relatives, and eventually let lots of reading and life experiences be my guide.

My children had some religious education, primarily because their grandmother insisted on it and Mr. Gadget didn't want to disappoint.  

But I was always in charge of Easter and that meant cooking a tasty holiday meal and filling hidden Easter baskets with candy and little trinkets.  As the kids got older I continued that tradition, but added an egg hunt in the backyard.  Hard-boiled colored eggs eventually evolved to plastic eggs with money inside.

But we parents don't know what we don't know.  Those money eggs ended up being a bad idea.  The morning trek around the yard would usually turn out like this:

"He got more eggs than I did!" she'd yell.

"I'm just faster," said he.

"This is totally unfair!" she'd proclaim as she stomped into the house, not to be seen again until afternoon.

Maybe we should have all gone to church instead.

Got bagels?

As I've mentioned, Big City Girl is right in the thick of things down there in the big city.  She's good about staying home but sometimes, like the rest of us, she has to grocery shop.  So I made her some protective gear.

Mr. Gadget has lovingly offered to do our grocery shopping so as to keep me out of harm's way.  I suggested that it would be very easy for me to make a mask for him, but he declined my offer saying he would wear one of his shop masks instead.  I told him I had some nice prints that would be very appropriate for a man with his talents and interests.  Perhaps something with bright salsa bottles, or even some books.  I might even have a piece hidden away with gadgets of some kind.  But he continued to dismiss my offers.  Mr. Gadget would never want to be known around town as a spectacle.

A little something for the birds

I've decided to share some of my felting fiber with the birds.  This will assist them in making really cushy nests.  I was hoping I had an old suet feeder, but I must have tossed it when we moved from our house.  So I used the next best thing.  A plastic bag that held my latest supply of Cuties. I pulled a little fiber out through the holes just to give the birdies a heads up.  There's a tree right next to our back deck that will be a perfect place to hang it. The foliage is sufficiently thick so that I should be able to hide it from the condo grounds committee if they decide to walk around the complex looking for criminals.

Back among 'em

Sorry, I got sidetracked....

I decided this would be a good time to jump back in, what with all that's going on in the world and me here in the Treehouse looking for any excuse to avoid cleaning closets and all those productive things the rest of you are doing...

First of all, Mr. Gadget and I are fine.  We've been back in Connecticut (from the Calcondo) for the last two weeks and we've been staying safely in our house with the occasional grocery-store trip.  Mr. Gadget volunteered to be our go-and-fetcher and that has worked out very well.  He usually comes home with chocolate.

Big City Girl is right down in the thick of things.  Since she has a tech job she's able to work from home in Brooklyn in a cute, cozy little office she has fashioned for herself from a walk-in closet.  She had office furniture delivered and painted some artwork to decorate the walls....along with something she calls fairy lights.

I'll continue to post to keep family and friends up to date on how we're doing.  I have lots of crafty things to share too and will do that just as soon as I remember how to do the picture thing.

Everyone stay safe and well.....and calm.