In my mind, I'm five years old having a high old time wandering and wondering. In reality, I'm now approaching my late 60s, wowza! I tell you a lot of creativity is still to be found in this old young self. In you, too, whatever your age. Welcome to my barefoot world!
The other day, friends (whom I've known since elementary school) and I were kidding about not knowing what we want to be when we grow up. Then I realized that I did know and that I was doing it: Playing at being an artist. And, not just with words. Whooo-hooo! A couple weeks ago I finished my first painting. It's on the concrete step outside the patio window. Some of you may remember the bottles I painted earlier this month. I let a few of them dry on that concrete step, which left paint stains. I decided that painting over the stains was the best way to get rid of them. And, so I did. BOOK PLANTER I made one! It was easy-peasy. If you want to give it a try, do a search for "book planter" in your browser. One of these days, I'll share my method once I've got it down. I have another book ready to be planted and four more prepped to carve. My first book planter became a housewarming gift. The yellow glassy thing (in the middle photo above) i
1. "Caramel corn would taste good right now?" I said to the Husband. "Yeah," said he. "I wonder where we could get some." "Bertuccio's has some," I replied. "Or we can learn to make caramel corn." 2. The Husband and I have been moving and switching furniture in the house. 3. The old bureau now sits in the front yard waiting to be stained and turned into a big happy planter. 4. Our clothes now rest in the Husband's more narrow dresser that his parents gave him over 50 years ago. 5. The late 1800s parlor organ sits in the foyer waiting to be dusted, photographed, and sold to someone who would enjoy owning it next. 6. The TV, modems, and such now rest on a 1950s dresser rather than the organ. The dresser's name is Roy Rogers because of its cowboy look. At least in my mind. 7. The creamy leather recliner now sits in the living room. The Husband took his first nap on it last night. 8. I love coming home to s
Don't these daisies look like space aliens of some kind? That's what came to my mind when I saw them at the farmer's market last year. So, of course I had to buy a pot. For two bucks, I couldn't go wrong. ARUGULA PESTO Arugula is my new favorite vegetable right now. I like its kick. So far, though, I make a pesto out of the bitter greens. As with any dish, there are different kinds of arugula pesto recipe out there. Here's the one I made up yesterday: I grinded and blended a batch of arugula, a handful of parsley, 8 big garlic cloves, olive oil, a bit of water, Parmesan cheese, and salt and white pepper to taste. I loved how green the concoction looked. A perfect Spring dish. Maybe next time I'll think about taking a photo. Also next time I'll add a lot more shredded Parmesan. (I only had 1/4 cup in the fridge.) A Glorious First Day of Spring, One and All! I'm linking up to two fun memes today: ABC Wednesday and Say Cheese! Come check out
Caw. Caw. Caw. Caw. A flock of crows have been hanging around the neighborhood lately. I've watched some of them fly through the backyard, coming to rest on the tall, leafy skinny tree (possibly a birch) next door. Caw. Caw. Caw. Caw. I never paid attention to these birds until one Sunday afternoon in 1994. The First Husband and I lived in an apartment building on the northwest flank of Mt. Sutro in San Francisco. That afternoon I was home working while the First Husband was attending a powwow. While I was looking out the window, a crow landed on our balcony. I moved closer to the window. It didn't faze the crow. That crow and I gazed at each other for a long while. I felt the crow was assuring me all would be well with the First Husband who was diagnosed with cancer. Until a few weeks before he died, I saw and heard crows often. There were afternoons where I'd see a crow circling above the trees near our carport. Same crow? Maybe. Hearing or seeing a crow mell
The Husband and I held a joint discussion (1) over the stool that was painted today: What's the best way to detach the cracked masterpiece of a seat? The painting of the stool, though, was not a joint effort (2); however, the Husband and I are joint authors (3) of four titles about various careers. Did my voice sound disjointed (4) in the previous paragraphs? Didactic, possibly also pedantic? That how I sounded when I wrote educational materials once-upon-a-time, except I wrote concepts in simple sentences, straightforward without any editorial commentary or unneeded adjectives, at a third grade reading level. I have digressed. Hope that astray didn't get anyone's toes out of joint (5). Jeeez, Jeeves, this joint (6) is jumping! Fats Waller had me dancing. My knee joints (7) are fine, as long as I don't do something silly like the splits or the Charleston. Until two years, when I consulted a joint specialist (8) I had no idea my legs are jointed
Once upon a time there were people who collected other people's trash and resold the items. Some of these early recycling entrepreneurs were said to go down the street calling out something like "I'm here for any rags, bottles, and bones." Rags, bottles, and bones. For me, it would be books rather than bones. But, I'm not looking to purchase any rags, bottles, or books. Not at all. I mention the phrase because the past week, I've been repurposing fabric scraps, wine bottles, and old books. RAGS The elephant scene (above) is my first try at fabric art. I machine stitched everything but the the red flowery thing, which is the top of a tree, onto a purple napkin. The zipper is the second, if not the first, one I've ever sewn. I have several more purple napkins and a whole bunch of scraps so I might experiment with more fabric art. We shall see. BOTTLES Last year I decided to make a garden border with wine bottles that I collected mostly from our
The header illustrates, in my mind, what my world was like when I was a small kid. We lived several miles out of town, one of four houses behind a country store, nearly surrounded by fields and orchards which I explored. I've become aware that our front and back yards may be reflecting my long-ago playground. Here are two views of the lower half of what was the former lawn. It's been over two years since we pulled out the lawn. We don't miss it at all. The daisy bushes have exploded all over the yard. Pow! Pow! Pow! I like the volunteer wild grass that has grown in a pathway. In May, or April, I'll pull it out. Soon, poppies will start showing their orange selves. And, here's part of the backyard that looks like it belongs in a storybook. So I thought when I saw the photo. This spot gets nice shade in the afternoon. If we set a little round table there, we can sit and eat snacks or play at being an artist. Of maybe, instead, we can put a sofa there so we