Saved

I confess I am an incorrigible. I was pretty determined to get rid of stuff with the big sale—and really I was good! Got rid of tons. But as I watched things walking away I felt a few twinges and I sneaked a few things back into the house. I looked at my ice cream maker for a long time and reminded myself how long it has been since I used it, but I also remembered how wonderful homemade ice cream and sorbet is. It's back. I also saved the little crock above. It was from my great grandmother's house out in the eastern Colorado prairie. It once held something like butter, or cream or pickles. Now I like it with roses in it. It is very old.

I ran across a folder of old photos, while I was pulling out things for the sale. This is the house on the prairie.

Those are my great grandparents in the middle, my grandmother Clarice next to the horse and my great aunt Caroline is the other little girl. The two other men may have been my great grandmother's brothers. We visited there in the summers when I was a child. By then a little town had grown up around it and there were big shady trees all around as well. My little crock was probably somewhere inside when this picture was taken. Needless to say, all these people are gone, but I love that I have pictures of them.

Here's my other grandmother, Hazle. (That's how she spelled it) This is her High School graduation picture.

I am working on a small quilted piece based on this photo. I wish I could show it to you. I will eventually, but it is for something special and cannot be shown yet.

Grandma Hazle had that same bold gaze as long as I knew her. She was a vivid personality—a force. As a child I knew her only from summer visits, but I ended up living in the same town with her after I was grown and married and we were close until her death, just a few months shy of her 100th birthday. She lives on in funny stories and memories of her adventures, as well as a small book of her poetry.

A very large day ...

As my Dad used to say.

In the annals of "days that I was very tired at the end of" this one is right near the top.

This was the second (and last) day of our "very large yard sale". Stuff we've been hoarding and hauling and storing for way too many years. We did good. We sold nowhere near everything, but quite a bit.

At some level it is deeply mortifying to see all the stuff you've been saddled with spread out across your property, for sale to who knows who. It all looks so much more worn out and tatty than you would have thought. I wandered through it all wondering if anyone might see something beautiful or worthwhile, and lots of people did, but not always what I would have expected.

Cheap wine glasses did not appeal to anyone. They will go to the thrift store tomorrow.

Likewise, silver-plated serving stuff. I guess no one else likes to polish it either.

Ghosts of kitchens past. My son took home the red canisters. The blue ones didn't sell. I thought someone would snatch them up.

I think Andy's motorcycle helmet finally sold. Every kid that came through tried it on.

Do you know what this is? We don't. Ray priced it at 50 cents because he thought that seemed right, though he didn't know what it was. He was sure I knew what it was. I don't.

A reward to anyone who can tell us what this nicely made, nearly new "thing" is. Needless to say it didn't sell, but Ray nearly sold it to a very nice fellow with a great sense of humor. He didn't know what it was either. It is about 12" square, made to mount on a wall (?) and the part with the price tag on it rotates either direction, but stops when its outer corners hit the keystone-shaped part at the top of the circle.

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In the middle of all this chaos, I bathed, dressed myself up, and went to a funeral for the father of my good friend, Beth. You have seen her on these pages—my walking partner. Beth's Dad was a decorated pilot in WWII and again later in the Korean War, and more—a much loved father and grandfather. The photo, published in his obituary, of him as a young WWII, pilot is a beauty. Like my own parents, one of that great generation that fought that war. The photo reminds me of just how young they were. It has been 11 years since my own father died. I think of him every day. I know how Beth is feeling. Losing one's parents is profound. It is never the same again.

Prints reconsidered

OK, you guys convinced me to pull most of the prints from the yard sale and try to sell them here on the blog. I need to re-mat most of them as the mats are dinged up from years of moving them around unframed, so it will be a little while before they are available.

I found one box of blocks today.

It included the two blocks for the mushroom print. That was the one that you all expressed the most interest in. Since I have only one print left of that one I may print a second edition of that piece.

Rayna suggested I try printing some of these on fabric, which I have tried, with little success, but I may try again. I really need a press, I think, to print well on fabric. For most of these my press is the back of a wooden spoon! The biggest piece there, of the lily, was a reduction piece, so all that is left is the last color printed, but it is an outline, so it may have some possibilities for something. The Chartres Cathedral block is the most intricate block I ever carved and one of my favorites. I carved it after seeing Chartres. There are other blocks in the box. As the box notes, there are some etching plates I made in college in there as well. I really do need a press to print those.

Strange goin's on

Remember a couple weeks ago I showed you a picture of a trunk sitting on the sidewalk in Oakland, Oregon? And I said I had one just like it at home? Well, here it is.

I bought this old trunk in Idaho City, Idaho about 40 years ago (holy sh*t!—40?) and I wrestled it into the trunk of my car and toted it back to Boise where my first apartment was. We've been dragging this old thing around ever since. Over the years it became the place I stored stuff that I wanted to keep, but didn't really need. I now have no place for it and it is up for sale at the BIG yard sale this weekend. (Don't tell me I can't sell it—it's too wonderful or nostalgic or something. I'm over it. It needs someone new to love it.) But first I needed to empty out all the stuff inside. Like about 10 really old Girl Scout uniforms, including sashes and badges and beanies and the whole 9 yards. (don't ask) And scrapbooks. Oh. My. Goodness. Not the new-fangled fancy, schmancy scrapbooks with cunning stickers and die-cut cuteness. These are the old manilla pages with black and white photos and sticky corners and crumbling telegrams and train tickets and pressed leaves and graduation announcements. That kind. And dolls. Most everything smelled a little musty, but looked OK, until I got to the dolls.

My looks-like-a-Madame-Alexander-but-isn't doll emerged from the trunk covered in a white, powdery mold. Ewwww. The dress on the Revlon doll was molding and her feet and legs were looking a bit speckled with that same white mold. The sturdy little saucy walker doll, Mary Lou, looked fine.

Then —the horror! I stood the Revlon doll upright and her eyes popped open. Eee-eee-eee! (cue Psycho music)

I could see that the zombies had gotten to her! Where had I stashed the holy water? Or, failing that, the lysol mold and mildew remover? Hang in there, girl—I'm not givin' up on you!

A bit later, following some Latin incantations and a good scrubbing the girls seemed more themselves and were enjoying a little nude sunbathing to kill any persistent spores.

I'm telling you, it was a strange day around here today.

Prints

We have been going through boxes, pricing, saving or discarding things for our yard sale next week. A lot of this stuff has been stored in boxes for years. I went through an old trunk today to discover some of my childhood dolls covered with white mold. I don't know if they are salvageable.

I came upon a box of prints I made many years ago. Some I had forgotten about completely. All of these are linoleum block prints. This is the first print I ever made. I was in High School. It is unsigned and undated, but was probably 1963. I think this is probably the sole remaining print and I have no idea what happened to the block. Looking at it all these years later, I think it is kind of good!

Here's one from 1974. This is one I had forgotten about completely. I think I will frame it.

Here is another. This one used two blocks, one for each color. I think I still have most of these blocks in a box that I still haven't come to.

This one is teeny tiny. The print itself is about 2" across.

I will probably keep one print of each edition and put the rest in a box and sell them dirt cheap. These are but a few of what I have. This is the plight of most artists—boxes of unsold artwork that get hauled around for more than 30 years.

Friday

Here it is Friday already and I have nothing for you. Nada. It has been kind of a funny week with some high points, some low points, a coming storm that got us all excitedly battening down the hatches and digging out candles and matches and lamp oil. Then the wind blew a bit and a little rain splattered around and then it was all over. Meanwhile on the other side of town trees were falling and crashing through roofs, so I think we dodged a bullet by a few miles. Dodging bullets is what I'm all about this week. Trying, anyway.

Oh, we're getting stuff ready for a big, big—really big—yard sale next weekend. This includes all the stuff that we decided we need to get rid of when we moved, plus stuff inherited from cleaning out houses after our parents died and stuff like doors and light fixtures and cabinets no longer needed at our new house after the remodel. It will be everything and a kitchen sink! There will, of course, be pictures and blog coverage.

So, just so you know I'm still here and cruising the highways and byways of the internet, I will leave you with this. Isn't this so pretty? It popped up on one of my daily blog reads.

Flowers

This view out my front window is inspiring right now. The rhododendrens and azaleas and now the roses, are at their peak. It always makes me want to get out and take photos of flowers despite the fact that I already have folders and folders of flower photos.

Something I have been trying for are some closeups where the foreground flowers are in sharp focus and the background somewhat blurred. As often as not I get the opposite effect like this one.

Not what I was going for.

I did finally manage to get several that I was pleased with.

The roses along the side of the house are starting to bloom and they are really beautiful. Yesterday Ray and I walked around to look at them and surprised a deer who was carefully eating each and every bud off the first rosebush. Ray mixed up a batch of "deer repellant" from a recipe found on the internet and sprayed the roses and some other tender little plants with deer damage. Nothing that will hurt the deer, but hopefully make the greenery and flowers unappetizing to them. Hope it works.

Another stamp

I carved another stamp. This time I used a firmer carving material and it was easier to carve, but the results look pretty similar to the last one I made.

I stole this design from the Mayans. You may remember this photo from a couple of years ago.

It was taken in the Anthropology Museum in Mexico City. Can you see the part of the motif that I used?

Like the last stamp I made, this one can be used for a variety of repeating patterns that change depending on how you rotate the stamp with each print. Here are today's results.

This last one, set on point, reminds me of an eye with fat lashes and a tiny little eyebrow. Totally didn't see that when I was carving it!

You may wonder what I am going to do with all these printed fabric bits. I wonder too.

Identity—the new 12 x 12 reveal

This is my piece for the newest 12 x 12 challenge theme, "identity". Read more about it at the 12 x 12 blog and look at what everyone else did. I think Diane Hock and I experienced some kind of Vulcan Mind Meld. Scary!

Sigh . . .

More Japanese Lantern magic. Thanks Libbie!

"Carnation, Lily, Lily, Rose"

John Singer Sargent

"The Lantern Bearers"

Maxfield Parrish

Don't we all need Japanese lanterns in our yards this summer? Just sayin' . . .

Waiting for this

There were days in December and January that even my imagination couldn't conjure up the feel and smell of a summer evening. While not technically summer, this evening feels like a beautiful summer night. Perhaps the first of the season that really delivers.

Last summer when the 12 x 12 theme was "illumination" my piece was Japanese Lanterns and I talked about imagining our new home, and how it might feel on a summer evening and I confess I have been obsessed with Japanese lanterns ever since.

A couple months ago, on a miserably rainy day I ran into a grocery store to pick up a few items and noticed several boxed up lanterns on the clearance table in the floral department. At half price, I bought two, wondering if they would provide the magic I was seeking. They are solar lights, and since I hung them a couple days ago this one seems to have "powered up" much better than the other. The glow is perfect—exactly what I hoped for. Hanging on the deck, I can see it from inside as well as outside.

I stepped outside a few minutes ago and could see the beautiful crescent moon through the trees, smell the grass and hear the frogs singing their nighttime song. Ahhh, summer. Maybe it really is here. I'm ready.

A quick trip

Last week Ray and I took a quick trip south to Roseburg, Oregon to see the High Fiber Diet Line Dance show at the Umpqua Valley Art Association. We stopped in Oakland, Oregon for lunch at Tolley's, which has been a favorite place for years. The little town of Oakland is very Historic and looks like it did in the 1800's. Tolleys is in a wonderful old building on the main street. On this visit we found the food only fair, the service not great and the news that the business is for sale. Now I see on their web site that they are planning to raffle it off. Sad. It seems a sign of the times.

I remember the first time we stopped at Tolly's, shortly after moving to Ashland, Oregon. Our kids were very small and we were on our way to Portland to take the train back to Idaho for Christmas. The food was so good and the restaurant was beautifully decorated for Chistmas. We still have a Christmas ornament purchased at Tolley's on that trip. They used to have antiques and gifts in this part of the building, which is now a bar.

Sitting outside on the sidewalk was this old trunk. I have one just like it at home.

After leaving Oakland, we went on to Roseburg and found the Art Association Gallery. I think the community building was once a school, turned into a bustling art center. The art gallery is beautiful and our work looked pretty great, I have to say!

left to right, work by Amy Hahn, Carol Heist, me, Laura Jennings and Zee Wilks

On the plexi screen left to right, work by Karen Miller, Mary Goodsen. On the back wall left of the screen two of my pieces, right of screen Mary Arnold, Shirley MacGregor and Amy Hahn

left to right, work by Georgia French, Mary Goodsen, Carol Heist and me

It was fun to read the comments in the guest book—all positive and the staff seemed very enthusiastic about our show. So nice to feel appreciated! The show runs through June 5. If you are going north or south through Oregon on I-5 stop in Roseburg. The gallery is just a few blocks off the interstate.

In today's mail

My copy of American Quilter containing an article I wrote.

It is about the fusing technique I use for my art quilts—my own invention, sort of.

I wrote a blog tutorial about the technique several years ago, which led to my being asked to write the magazine article. The folks who make the Liquid Thread product that I use were pretty happy when I published the blog tutorial and sent me a nice package of their products. They should be even happier to see the printed article. You can see there is a photo of their product included in the article.

The article includes a pattern page in case you'd like to make the little "Bird with Berry" piece that illustrates the article.

Pretty neat, huh?

Another chair

Several weeks ago I stopped at an estate sale and picked up this nice, heavy wooden outdoor chair.

We've been talking about making a little sitting area out front under one of the big, old trees and when I spotted this chair it looked like it would be great for reading in the shade with a nice glass of iced tea sitting on the wide armrest. The cushion looked pretty gnarly—the picture was taken after I soaked it in the laundry tub with a good dose of bleach to kill the mildew and then baked it in the sun for several days. The result was clean and cooty-free, but dated and boring, so I picked up a couple of yards of outdoor canvas and made a cover for the cushion. Snazzy, eh?

I can't decide whether to leave the wood as is or paint it. Shiny black? Dark green? I saw some painted wood lawn chairs in the new Sunset magazine today. They looked pretty sharp.

I realize chairs are a continuing theme on this blog. Remember this—and this—and this—and this—and this—and this?