Sunday, October 30, 2011
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Happiness
Monday, October 24, 2011
Another day in the country
My life is turning into that old Canned Heat song.
Yesterday I went back to the Noodlemans, this time to get pumpkins. And the companionship and grilled food didn't hurt either. We drove up to Ripley to the Carmack's farm to find the barn open with a few pumpkins, lots of gourds, and signs with prices--$1 a piece, 50 cents for the small gourds--and a handmade repository for the money. Totally on the honor system. My faith in the society is restored.
Besides these lovelies, there are many small ornamental gourds, some that look like eggs. I plan on creating a small tableau with my concrete chickens and a nest. Photos of that at a later date.
A very good day. The fun grows on trees in the country, sometimes on the ground.
Besides these lovelies, there are many small ornamental gourds, some that look like eggs. I plan on creating a small tableau with my concrete chickens and a nest. Photos of that at a later date.
A very good day. The fun grows on trees in the country, sometimes on the ground.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Fun stuff
Mrs. Noodleman is quite the artist (always has been) and makes gracious living look easy. She has a keen mind and can figure out how to make the nicest silk purse from the most mundane of the sow's ear.
Take her on your next outing to the thrift store and you will come home with a treasure.
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| glass globes with solar powered tea lights |
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| Halloween rat |
A Day in the Country
On Saturday we went to visit the Noodleman's. Our usual day to go up there is Sunday, but I had a previous commitment that day, so did the Noodlemans and Vincent was here for the weekend, so Saturday was the day to go.
Mr. Noodleman brought home stuff to put on the fire-yummy--and we all pitched in to create a delicious meal. Afterwards, walnut bowling was the order of the day. As in prehistoric times, a new game was discovered, walnut baseball. All you need is a bucket of black walnuts in their green shells, a fairly substantial stick off the ground, a pitcher, catcher, and batter. Fortunately, Vincent has a good arm and pitched walnuts for half an hour. With much encouragement from Emaw and Mrs. Noodleman, he managed to throw to the strike zone more often than not.
The sun set on a very good day.
Mr. Noodleman brought home stuff to put on the fire-yummy--and we all pitched in to create a delicious meal. Afterwards, walnut bowling was the order of the day. As in prehistoric times, a new game was discovered, walnut baseball. All you need is a bucket of black walnuts in their green shells, a fairly substantial stick off the ground, a pitcher, catcher, and batter. Fortunately, Vincent has a good arm and pitched walnuts for half an hour. With much encouragement from Emaw and Mrs. Noodleman, he managed to throw to the strike zone more often than not.
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| walnut bowling |
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
something weird
It is nearly the middle of October and I am ready for the trip to Ripley to buy pumpkins from the farmer on Carmack Road. Maybe he will have gourds too this year. It has been very dry here lately which is good for gourds. Last year we had a wet summer and fall after a torrential spring, so the gourds did not fare as well as other crops. The pumpkins were awesome.
Back to my little yard.......I have watered and picked suckers off this tomato plant all spring and summer. It was purchased from Home Depot garden center with a tag that proclaimed it a "patio" tomato, which in my humble opinion meant it was supposed to be grown in a container. I also protected it from the blasted squirrels, mockingbirds and the ever damned blue jays, and it flowered, yet never produced anything resembling a sought after home grown tomato. We all know there is nothing better in a summer than a luscious big red juicy tomato, sun kissed, ready to bite into to make the hot days worth suffering through. We had one of the hottest summers on record. So hot, I had to get up before 6 am to go for a walk.
NOW, in the waning days of the growing season, when I am looking forward to ornamental fall vegetables, this plant, that was so carefully looked after and tended has decided to bear fruit!!!! Will there be enough warmth and sunshine left to make these babies red and full of that elusive taste that one expects of the vine ripened orbs that excite all gardeners and foodies??? All I can do now is hope for the best and keep my fingers crossed.
Back to my little yard.......I have watered and picked suckers off this tomato plant all spring and summer. It was purchased from Home Depot garden center with a tag that proclaimed it a "patio" tomato, which in my humble opinion meant it was supposed to be grown in a container. I also protected it from the blasted squirrels, mockingbirds and the ever damned blue jays, and it flowered, yet never produced anything resembling a sought after home grown tomato. We all know there is nothing better in a summer than a luscious big red juicy tomato, sun kissed, ready to bite into to make the hot days worth suffering through. We had one of the hottest summers on record. So hot, I had to get up before 6 am to go for a walk.
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| the patio tomato plant as of Oct 11, 2011 |
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
The End of an Era
Mrs. Webster passed away today. Marie was one of the most stylish, demanding, fashion conscious people any dressmaker could ever sew for. And I like to think she was my friend.
When I took her on as a client 20 something years ago, it was not without trepidation as her reputation as a fashionista (before the term was invented, mind you) with a keen eye for detail was well known in the sewing circles here.
Marie Webster will forever and always hold a dear place in my heart because she trusted my talent as a dressmaker and I can only hope I lived up to her standards of excellence in the time we shared making her wardrobe. She expected the best and I had to step up my game to the highest level of my sewing abilities and learn what made a garment a piece of art. It's because of Marie that I can make a bound buttonhole that is the envy of any top notch designer and understand how much better a jacket will hang with the proper underlining. And how wonderful the feel of silk charmeuse is against your skin when you slide on that tropic weight wool jacket, that jacket that has a lapel roll in just the right way because it was built in as the garment was cut. She helped me hone my pattern making skills by handing me photos torn out of Town & Country magazines and Neiman Marcus catalogs with a hunk of the finest fabrics available and saying, "This is what I want." I learned more sewing for her than I ever could have had I gone to any design school.
She was a dressmaker's dream and the angels in heaven had better have the most wonderful, perfect fitting wings ready for Marie Webster. She will wear nothing less.
When I took her on as a client 20 something years ago, it was not without trepidation as her reputation as a fashionista (before the term was invented, mind you) with a keen eye for detail was well known in the sewing circles here.
Marie Webster will forever and always hold a dear place in my heart because she trusted my talent as a dressmaker and I can only hope I lived up to her standards of excellence in the time we shared making her wardrobe. She expected the best and I had to step up my game to the highest level of my sewing abilities and learn what made a garment a piece of art. It's because of Marie that I can make a bound buttonhole that is the envy of any top notch designer and understand how much better a jacket will hang with the proper underlining. And how wonderful the feel of silk charmeuse is against your skin when you slide on that tropic weight wool jacket, that jacket that has a lapel roll in just the right way because it was built in as the garment was cut. She helped me hone my pattern making skills by handing me photos torn out of Town & Country magazines and Neiman Marcus catalogs with a hunk of the finest fabrics available and saying, "This is what I want." I learned more sewing for her than I ever could have had I gone to any design school.
She was a dressmaker's dream and the angels in heaven had better have the most wonderful, perfect fitting wings ready for Marie Webster. She will wear nothing less.
Monday, October 3, 2011
Something funny
Good News and Bad News
Yesterday, I got to spend the day with Vincent, a rare treat these days since he has moved to the country with his mother--an hour and half away. When I went to visit my nephew last weekend to pick up my new bike, he graciously gave a bike to my grandson.( These are two bicycle fanatics who have never laid eyes on one another, mind you.)
After a delicious breakfast of pancakes and bacon, I showed Vincent his surprise, and he was duly impressed with the big boy bike, especially the kickstand! Of course we rode to the little park around the corner, cuz that's what one does at your grandma's house over here. And that bike stood up all by itself when he got off it, because it has a KICKSTAND!
So the bad news is Vincent had to go home. Fortunately, country living agrees with him (and his mother) but I miss him and wish he was closer. I let him take his other bike home so he can have something to ride. That boy is a natural on two wheels. It's like he knew how to ride all his life all he needed was a bike under him.
After a delicious breakfast of pancakes and bacon, I showed Vincent his surprise, and he was duly impressed with the big boy bike, especially the kickstand! Of course we rode to the little park around the corner, cuz that's what one does at your grandma's house over here. And that bike stood up all by itself when he got off it, because it has a KICKSTAND!
So the bad news is Vincent had to go home. Fortunately, country living agrees with him (and his mother) but I miss him and wish he was closer. I let him take his other bike home so he can have something to ride. That boy is a natural on two wheels. It's like he knew how to ride all his life all he needed was a bike under him.
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