Braided Rug

 Last month my sister-in-law Nancy showed me her new project, rug braiding.  I about fell out of my seat because I had been thinking pretty hard for about two months to try this on my own.  Seeing Nancy's beautiful wool rug was just the inspiration to get me going. I searched the web and talked to Gwen (who gave me her granny's equipment to borrow), and this is what I have accomplished. 

I have never done this so I am learning a lot and I know I might try things different if I attempt to make another.  Bottom line:  Rug braiding is fun and the resulting product has a spiritual warmth about it.

 We went to our last Parent's Weekend at MLC.  We made a point of going to see the Claes Oldenburg Cherry and Spoon sculpture.  The artist's birthday is the same day as Randy's

 We went to a resale shop and I bought these beautiful crocheted potholders.  I am using them as coasters in the livingroom.

Yes, I was in an accident. Not the weekend we saw Kadie, but last weekend.  Icy conditions, I just slid down a ramp into a van.

January 2012

 Gwen and her nieces and nephews made this wonderful gingerbread cake house for the grandkids.  It was a wonderful thing considering how weird the holidays were.

 I got together with my gal pals over the break.. Briggie is holding Maripat's girl dog named Barney!  I love Barney.

 This is my green kitchen.

 Maripat, Rosie and her friend Katie, and I went to the UMMA.  I love this exhibit of Tabletop sculptures.  Many of the sculptures are kinetic and can spin in a pin head even though they are so heavy and not symmetrical.

 We had a great time.  This is graffiti alley.  We had lunch at Afternoon Delight.  Great hospitality, food and prices.  Yummmy!  I got a lot of compliments on my hat.  This was a bitter cold day.  I took my gloves off to show MP how to operate the camera.  Otherwise we were bundled and covering our faces.

 We finally got snow to go sledding.  We had a great time.

 Arianna's covering her eyes.

 I'm on the back

This is me being excited by how far we went.

Jacob and Dominic went the farthest.  Down the hill, across the field, over the road, across another field into the woods.  WOW!!!!

Another great day I had in January (forgot the camera) was spent in Perrysburg and Toledo.  Randy and I drove alongside the Maumee River.  The house are just lovely.
We ended up in Toledo and had a late lunch early dinner at The Blarney.  The restaurant has a great vibe.  Nice decor and menu.  We had latkes with corn beef, bangers and mash with a side of peas.  I wanted to tell the owner that the best peas are tossed with olive oil, S&P, and roasted under the broiler just until toasty. 

December 2011

 My springerle and lebkuchen were perfect this year. 

 This is Kadie's boyfriend, Dan.  We approve.  Points in his favor are the he isn't afraid to play word games with me.

 This is the pretty tree at the Children's hospital in Toledo.  Why were we there . . .

Our sweetie had a ruptured appendix.

Here's the thing . . . for a time I just stopped taking pictures.  I didn't take my camera to the wonderful tea party I went to at St. Paul Lutheran Church, Saline.  I had a wonderful time there.
I didn't take a picture of  when Dominic and I had breakfast by candle light, or of the cute "get well" sign we made for Mekayla. 
Although not necessary I made excellent cocktails for Christmas, Stillettos.  Yummers.

November 2011

 I took this picture of a morning glory vine that invaded the star sculpture.  The vine grew in daring and imaginative ways.

 My friend Shelly gave me this spectacular molasses oatmeal bread.  The recipe came from a Tasha Tudor cookbook.  Tasha won an award at the fair with this bread.

 Here is our dear Mekayla playing volley ball.  She did really well.  I was so proud of her confidence!

 My friend Mikkie gave me this beautiful vintage red coat many years ago.  I finally sewed the parts back on and made a new button for it.  The coat is in beautiful condition so I can't imagine why the buttons were off and one was missing.

 The neighbor boy saw a neighborhood hooligan playing with my missing bowling ball.  Little Noah just took the ball away from the delinquent when his dad recognized the ball and told Noah it was mine.  What a honey for returning him.  He's beat up, but it looks like he had a pretty good time.

After Thanksgiving we started on the kitchen.  I can't believe I don't have a picture of the old wallpaper.

A Funny yet Sad Story

Remember these guys?  Well . . . I felt the need to send a letter to the editor.  Here it is.

Dear Mr. Editor,

I was a victim of a Devil’s Night prank and theft and I am writing you in hopes that your readers including Adrian residents, police officers and judges will weigh in on how the offense should be handled.  What I am hoping for is public and official support for “unique justice.” 

Okay here’s my story . . .  I’ve even given it a title . . .

“Devil’s Night Revelers Having a Ball cause Heads to Roll”

About eight years ago on a bright October day my friend, and fellow artist, left a fun gift on my porch a pair of painted bowling balls.  (I know you can see where this is going.)  They were pumpkin orange colored with faces painted on them in a 1930’s kind of graphic style.  One smiled the other frowned. 

The smiling one was stolen.  He was recklessly rolled down Locust Street all the way to Stevenson Lumber.  How do I know?  Well the “little devil” (I think of him more as a “Punk-in stealer”) went to work on Halloween bragging about his daring and exciting Devil’s Night adventure.  He had gone out to smash little children’s pumpkins and found a bowling ball.  Oh, the luck.  Strikes and gutters never felt so good. 

I love how things work out, you see “Punk-in Stealer” ran his mouth not knowing I was related to one of his fellow employees.

November first, I went to the Punk-in Stealer’s work to confront him, but he had the day off.  This was good because I was in a reactionary frame of mind and needed time to reason a suitable form of justice.

I examined my feelings:

This guy not only stole my property, but my joy.  My friend painted those bowling balls for ME.  Every time I put them out my heart overflows with gratitude for my friend and all my friends.  Thank you Lord for my friends!

My friends mean more than that bowling ball.  I am sad, but I’m not like Castaway Tom Hanks distraught over losing Wilson.

I’m more mad because he damaged some little kids’ pumpkins.  Did you catch that I live on the east side?  Folks over here don’t have as many financial resources.  Yet what little they have is taken and ruined.  FYI: I‘m unemployed and looking for work which is like digging through a two week old wet stinky trash bag for something I lost and desperately need.  

Ideas . . .

Mr. Punk should be fired.

Mr. Punk should be made to paint me two new pumpkin faced bowling balls.  One will replace my lost pumpkin ball, the other fruit of his labor will endure my punishment.  I will call my friends and we will exact justice on it (while he watches) like the printer in the movie Office Space. 

I will fight him while he is tied to a chair, like in the comedy Eagle vs Shark.

We send him to bowling ball painting purgatory.  Where he has to paint a bowling ball then roll it up a hill.  He will be like The Little Punk Who Could, he will huff and puff “I think I can, I think I can” the ball will roll over the side to the good boys and girls who will exclaim “the Great Pumpkin is Real.”  When Mr. Punk-in gets to the bottom of the hill, another unpainted ball will await him.  We will call him Herby, because he will be like the North Pole Elf who never found joy in his work.

These are pretty good ideas but I would like to know what you and your readers think should be done.

Awaiting your wisdom,

Heidi

After I sent the letter I had a thought . . . the vandal should paint bowling balls then he should hold a street bowling marathon to raise money for the boys and girls club art program.  He has to throw the ball one time for every donor.  For every strike he gets he can throw the ball one less time.  Donors will pay extra for every strike thrown.  Every time he misses I get to insult him and lay a guilt trip on him.  I will make him do it in snow shoes.  And calmly ask him about his pain level like the sadistic torturer in A Princess Bride.

I will give him water flavored with red hots.  And I will smile and ask "Whose smiling now?"
Does it hurt yet?  On a level a 1 - 10 how is your arm feeling now?
So how sorry do you feel about stealing my bowling ball now? 

I want to bust his . . .

Please Comment!

Brut Art

I finished the wall hanging and hung it in my bedroom. The work doesn't liberate me like I want it to.  Instead, I have negative feelings . . . disappointment mostly . . . not in the work because the work is lovely and brut . . . but the work reminds me of something raw and unfulfilled in my own life . . . something unresolved.   
star flowers floating on waves . . . magic drifting away . . . frayed intentions awkwardly assembled . . . unconcealed mending . . . meaningful reconstruction? . . . uncertain binding