Turkeys and Pigs

I fairly well convinced myself that I have Swine Flu. I have the flu for certain, whether or not it's H1N1 is undetermined. Either way, I feel like poopy on a stick. And I am NOT going to the doctor to find out. That's a rant for some other time.

We didn't do anything special for Thanksgiving, but then we never do. I don't like turkey on the other 364 days of the year so I'm not cooking one on the 4th Thursday of November just because you're supposed to. I put up the Yule/Christmas tree and attempted to design a skirt for the tree. I came up with several ideas (as is usually the case) and finally settled on one only to discover I threw away the fabric I wanted to use. I use the word fabric loosely, it was some kind of laminated silvery plastic with a fuzzy backing. Like a disco tablecloth. Anyway, it's a moot point now because I tossed it out. I hate when I get all determined to clean up my hoarded supplies and then realize I really could have used whatever I got rid off. I try to simplify the rest of the house but I need to accept the the fact that my crafting room will ALWAYS be an overstuffed disaster area.

For the tree skirt, I decided I wanted a double skirt, a 5 pointed star over a circle. The points being purple and black crazy quilted and the circular skirt underneath the silver. I have some silver lame but it's too narrow and too thin. But I do have miles of it, so it could be swirled and draped. I don't know. I've decided to hold off for a bit, until I either get well or get more silver plasticy stuff. The tree is black. The ornaments are silver, stars mostly. I seem to have misplaced the purple lights I bought after Halloween specifically to use for the tree. So the poor tree tree is sitting in the parlor in limbo for the moment.

I made a book out of brown paper grocery bags. It looks kinda crappy but I like it. For some reason I simply cannot explain, I only had one sheet of the paper I wanted to cover the book with. I never buy just one sheet of anything. Did I use it somewhere and I just don't remember? So only the front of the book got covered in the lovely fall-ish leaf paper. I can always lie and say I meant to do it that way!

I painted a green man in the book. After I finished him, I forgot what I was going to write on the other page. When it ever comes back to me, I'll finish the page.

I called my darling friend Curtis yesterday for advice about doing my Beloved's hair. Curtis is a former hairstylist and cosmetology teacher. Me, forget it! I can cut paper, I can cut fabric, I can cut wood. I cannot cut hair. I've tried to think of it architecturally, like a pattern. How hard could this be, right? Nope. All of my attempts left my victims looking like they'd been attacked by brain eating mutant zombie weed whackers. My poor Beloved was a fork in the road with color too. He could only see the grey around his face, I got to see the 4 or 5 others he had swirling around the back. As I explained my intention to Curtis, he told me not to touch a thing, he'd be right over. This was a great relief to my Beloved, I'm sure!

Curtis and I walked to the beauty supply store since it was so close, a mere 5 blocks away. I forgot that walking when sick isn't such a nifty idea, I wished we'd drove instead. I thought to call my Beloved and have him come get us but it dawned on me that he was blocked in and wouldn't be able to. I had a hot flash in the store on top of everything else. Ugh! When we got back, I plopped myself by the open dining room window and managed to cool off. Curtis bleached my Beloved's hair and then but a toner on it. Then he gave him a short cut. I love it! It is WHITE! Not blonde, not grey - WHITE. Johnny and Edgar Winter WHITE. My Beloved is very tan so he doesn't look like he has a pigmentation disorder with the colorless hair. I'd love for my hair to be white but I'd probably be mistaken for an albino if I did it. I get teased enough as it is.

Pinturas

There's nursing home right behind where I work. Some of the residents are annoying but a few are adorable, happy despite their situations. I keep telling myself I need to stop getting attached to them, they're over there for a reason. Pieces of my heart die with them.

One of the newer residents is Vasco. He's from Spain and fancies himself as Picasso. He's wandered around the Quarter for years selling his painting for whatever he could get for them. He was pleased as could be to discover that I speak Spanish and has appointed me his new best friend.

Vasco asked me which I liked the most, buildings or flowers. Buildings. He brought me a painting he did of The Dumaine House. I can't say as I remember offhand what the house looks like so I'll have take his word for it.

The nutty thing was how almost started attacking the painting. Yes, it's not technical and looks kinda childish. BUT - I like outsider art. I like wild colors. I like suggested movement. And it was a gift. So there!












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Patio Table Redux

When we moved in this house, the backyard was jumbled and junky but it had potential. We got the junk out of the way (except for the bathtub but that's another story). A previous tenet had dug up the bricks to the side of the patio in an attempt to steal cable. Like no one would notice the unsightly hump he made when he put the bricks back. Replacing the bricks wasn't an option as they are old and almost impossible to find, not to mention costly. My Beloved dug them up, chipped off the old mortar and reset them. It looks so much better and I have the added benefit of being able to walk across the area without fear of busting my ass.

Of the things left behind by others, there was the bar (which I have redone) and a plywood table with a hideous attempt at a Compass Rose painted on it. The base was awkward and unsightly. And too damn high. I wanted to keep the top and the glass cover. My Beloved sanded the top and sprayed it with primer. And then it sat. And sat some more. But I did get some veneer to cover the edges with in the meantime!

I was in the house knocking around and get a strange text message from my Beloved, "I need a good brushing. Remember me?" Say what? Then another, "I have great potential...all I need is a good coat." I head outside to see what in the world he's talking about. When I saw what he'd done with the table I had to laugh. He even left his phone there to make it seem like the table was messaging me. Okay, Okay! I get it. Paint the table.

Several designs had occurred to me at different points but since we'd more or less come to an agreement on what we wanted the space to be, I had to come up with something fitting. When I first laid eyes on the space I thought "English Garden." I meant wild, explosive, whimsical, riotously colorful English garden, not tightly manicured and geometric English garden. But as we discussed ideas more, we moved further and further away from it. Now it's Moroccan or as my Beloved called it, Arabian Nights. I busied myself with coming up with a design and set to work.

I ironed on the veneer to mask the cut edges of the plywood, transferred my design and got busy. I love it. Even though we knocked off the base it was originally on and added legs, it's still too high for my liking. When my Beloved gets home, he'll shorten the legs and it'll be perfect.

Oooh That Smell

We have a large Sweet Olive tree in the front yard that bathes the whole place with its wonderful scent. I knew where the scent was coming from but I sometimes forget my Beloved “ain’t from around here.” We were driving down Prytania one evening last week with the windows down. The air was heavy with the scent of the many Sweet Olives that line the street. My Beloved asked where the scent was coming from. The trees. When we got back home, I pointed out the one in our yard. He made the comment that they just don’t have  that up north. True, but they don’t have melt your face off heat and humidity either.

I thought of a place I used to live, the fences invisible under the drapery of honeysuckle, jasmine, and wisteria. Sweet Olives poked through the jungle and roses filled the flower beds. Moonflowers climbed the side of the windows to draw luna moths into view. We would sit outside in the evenings, weeding and laughing as my then 18 month old grandson chased “fey” aka fireflies around the property. The scent on the evening breeze was intoxicating. I thought if I could bottle that scent, I’d be a millionaire. My grandson will be nine this year and I can still remember the way the place smelled so vividly.

Now that the weather has cooled off, we have turned our attention the outdoor spaces of our home. The patio was a disaster area. Cast offs and ugly things left by the previous tenets littered the space. We moved, threw away, and cleaned. It’s become our favorite place to be. The previous tenets left a quarter circle bar on the patio. It was in an awkward place and hideous. I’m really bad at remembering to take photos of things before I decide to alter them so I have nothing to illustrate my point here. The trim was coming off and the front is textured like rock. Except they left it the color of the texturing product and slapped fluorescent lime green paint on it in random blobs. Like I said, it was hideous. My first thought was to drag it out to the street with a sign declaring “Please take this.” We do need some sort of storage for extra planters and barbeque stuff. So I nailed the trim back in place and painted the whole thing a dark grey. Then I mixed up some varying greys and smushed and sponged. When it was dry, I dry brushed the base grey on the high spots of the texture. I love it now. We have a place to stow stuff out of the way and I don’t want to bleach my eyeballs looking at it!

We have more planned for the area but it will have wait for now. I have sewing projects lined up and waiting for some attention.