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!
Was it last year that I painted the first of these wall plaques that the Mama had, but did not display, for over 40 years? A couple weeks ago, I finished painting the last of them. I don't know if painting is the exact term. Maybe it's coloring with paints. Anyway, now what shall I do with them?
This spot in the front yard revealed itself to be the perfect place for geranium ivy to grow wildly upon that structure of strung branches. Originally I built the structure to be a trellis for bougainvillea in the backyard, but it didn't want to stand up straight. If I was building a raft, because I happened to be stranded on a deserted island, it would've made a perfect base for a sail. It was back in the Spring when I built the trellis/sail. Yesterday I cut the branches so that the structure collapsed into a v-shape. The Husband thought it looked like the frame for a canoe. (Guess what I want to eventually create with tree branches.) This morning, I set the now geranium trellis into its spot over a young geranium ivy plant that's slowly growing. I also planted cuttings from geranium vines that the Mama planted years ago. We shall see. Previously sitting on this spot was another bunch of branches that I painted and tied together at the beginning of the year. I mo
I hand pollinated two budding squash fruits last week because I was worried the male and female flowers would not pop open at the same time. You can't count on the bees or other insects to pollinate, especially these days when there aren't a lot of natural pollinators around. Hand pollinating squash is easy to do. Carefully strip the petals of the female blossom, doing your best not to touch her stigma. Then strip the petals off a male flower, taking care not to spill any of his pollen. Now, dab the pollen onto the stigma. If you don't feel confident that the male had sufficient pollen, then pick another male flower and repeat. The summer that I was 17 I worked as a hand pollinator for a seed research company. I got the job purely through nepotism. The Mama was in charge of hiring summer help who were usually teenage girls. She waited until I graduated high school before she hired me. She also hired my friend Kathy, who let the Mama know on her last day on Earth how
Part of the pink tea rose plant leaned over the pathway to the front door, making it a sweet-smelling and annoying obstacle for us, humans. Molly the Cat had no complaints. The Husband and I considered using the Mama's aluminum tiny step ladder. It was a perfect height for holding up the rose branches. But, as is our custom, the Husband and I left the thought hanging in the air. Last week the Husband called up to the second floor office window, "Where is the ladder?" He was outside watering the front yard. (I say "call" because the Husband and I don't like to shout or yell. We merely project our voice from our diaphragm like old-time actors on a stage. So I think.) "I don't know," I called out from my desk about 10 feet away from the window. My hand still posed over the keyboard, I said, "I'll go look." Fortunately the Husband called up, "Never mind." By then I was curious so I searched for the ladder. Yup. I
That wooden pink and white polka dot thing was one of the arm rests on the Mama's reading chair. When the Mama passed onward into the great beyond two years ago, I moved the chair outdoors. Other than Molly the Cat that chair couldn't support anyone heavier than the Mama. For a year, the chair held an umbrella tree in the front yard. Neither looked happy. So, back in March, I decided to take that chair apart and turn the parts into garden art. Pink was one of the Mama's favorite colors, and she liked polka dots, thus the new look for the arm rests. Curious about the other parts of the chair? Check out my Facebook album The Mama's Reading Chair . You don't need to be a Facebook member, or sign in, to view the album. Today I'm checking out a new meme for me called Pink Saturday , which is hosted by Beverly at How Sweet the Sound . To visit other participants, click here . Thank you, Beverly!
Hello Visitors from the Blogging from A to Z April 2018 Challenge. This post is for the weekly All Seasons. You can find my posts for the April Challenge here . Sometimes it's right before I fall asleep that an idea for garden art comes to me. Other times an idea greets me when I open my eyes in the morning. Wait till you hear this! my inner voice says, as it waited patiently for me to be quiet to hear the idea. So, today I share with you my latest two pieces for the garden. Both are items from the 1960s that belonged to the Mama. The metal peacock in the above photo was once in black, brown, and burnt gold (is that a color?), which the Only and Older Brother gifted to the Mama one year. The lamp in the photo below was one of a pair that the Mama and the Daddy bought for our brand new house way back when. Its original color was a cross between yucky bronze and gold. I think it was supposed to be a take off on baroque style. Now, the lamp could be a prop in a carnival.
Last Sunday I shared with you the chair I painted that morning. There's the final product in the meadow. You may not see it at first. That's Okay. That's my intent. I don't want the chair to be obvious. I want it to suddenly be a delight in your sight. By the way, Molly the Cat hasn't noticed it yet. I wonder what she'll do when she does. I ended up painting details onto the chair's frame. A hodgepodge of things to practice painting impressions of flowery vines, cat paws, flowers, and butterflies. Here's the back of the chair. For the front of the chair, I decided to paint one subject rather than several. What do you think? I love the way the chair looks in the meadow. The chair is too flimsy for anyone to sit on, except for Molly the Cat, so I asked the Husband to place it in a hard-to-get place. For humans, that is. While the Husband and I stood on the sidewalk admiring the chair in the meadow, I thought the yard looks just how I
Hello Visitors from the Blogging from A to Z April 2018 Challenge. This post is for the weekly All Seasons. You can find my posts for the April Challenge here . I'm pooped. Happily, though. I just came inside from painting that chair you see in the photo. I've been wanting to paint an artsy chair ever since I saw a bunch of painted chairs done by artists for a local fundraiser in town. That was over 10 years ago. By the time I mustered the confidence to consider painting a chair, the group hosting the fundraiser stopped it. Last night I decided if it didn't rain today, I would paint the old broken redwood chair against the fence that has been wearing the fake evergreen bough since last Christmas. So, I did. Today is gorgeous. Sunny. A bit of a breeze. Warm enough to peel off hat and sweater as the painting progressed. I hoped that Molly the Cat would hang out with me, but the rocking chair claimed her. That's okay, every so often a bee buzzed by to see what wa
Cool pelican, don't you think? His head? I have no idea what happened to it. He's requesting a sparkle-sparkle body. The better to show off his plumage, so he says. Only then will he reveal his name. Giggle.
"How are you doing?" asked the mailman, as he stuck a bunch of letters and magazines in our mailbox. "Happy now that I'm playing out here," I said sitting on my green stool in the middle of the yard, my hands muddy from pulling weeds and sticking plants into the damp soil. Who would've thunk that gardening has become one way for me to find zen? Definitely not me. I'm linking up with All Seasons , a weekly meme hosted by Jesh at Artworks from Jesh St.G. Click here to check out Jesh and her meme. For the participants list, click here . Thanks, Jesh!
The Husband and I like to drink a beer now and then. As for wine, until our anniversary party last September, we rarely popped open a bottle. But, after the party was over, we were left with a bunch of bottles of red, white, and sparkling bubbly. Thank you very much, friends! A few months ago I saw a video on how to use wine bottles to create a garden border. Now you know why there's a line of bottles growing in our front yard. Giggle.
Yesterday afternoon, while picking up pillow cushions and doing this and that to prepare the backyard for rain this week, I came across some cool things that seemed to shout, "Look at me! Look at me!" So, of course, I went to get the camera. Click. Click. Click. I'm linking up with All Seasons , a weekly meme hosted by Jesh at Artworks from Jesh St.G. Click here to check out Jesh and her meme. For the participants list, click here . Thanks, Jesh!
"We have a new home," said Bubba, the tiny bear with one ear. "Yee-hawwww!" "I love the fresh air," Shirley the Swan said. "No more being cooped up in a box labeled Christmas 48 weeks out of the year. Delightful!"
Quack, quack, quack. Watch out for me! So said the duck by the fence as I raked the leaves in the backyard. There are six of these blue-plate ducks hanging out in the yard. A friend asked, "Why don't you use them?" That was my plan when I fell in love with them in a thrift shop two birthdays ago. But, the only action the plates saw were inside a kitchen cabinet. The ducks are meant to be out in the open for us to enjoy. Of course what better place for them but in the backyard. Quack, quack, quack.
I don't know what got into me today. First thing this morning I went into the garage and pulled out the Christmas stuff. Red bows are now strung in the front yard, the mailbox looks festive with ribbons and red and blue balls, and a rickety wooden chair is adorned with fake snow-covered pine branches. Ooh-la-la. A small, vintage plastic Christmas tree came out of its box to become the centerpiece of the festive festiveness that you see in the photo. Methinks this tree has found its home in that old-fashioned milk can. The ornaments, too, most likely. Anyone else think its funny that our holidaze tree is outside among the living plants? Ha ha ha. This may be one of my favorite Christmas trees ever.
French presses don't last long in our household. It used to be we could go a couple of years before the glass container breaks. In recent years, nope. Three months, if we're lucky. Each time one breaks, we go back to using our makeshift coffee system—a 32-ounce glass measuring cup and a leftover plastic funnel from a legitimate coffee dripper that got broke who knows when. I can't bring myself to throw the coffee press plunger right away because I never know when it may come in handy. The problem is I put it away and forget where. It's not uncommon to reach deep into a kitchen shelf or open a box marked Kitchen Stuff , voila! there's a coffee press plunger. Last month I finally did something with a coffee press plunger. It so happened that I came across a bunch of metal tubes that were once-upon-a-time chimes at the same time that I spied a coffee press plunger. Yup. The coffee press plunger chimes make a pretty sound hanging from the apple tree outside the