Mysterious Messages

Messages stuffed in a coffee-shop wall...

Would you sip your latte without peeking? 

Or would you indulge in 

anonymous note-reading?

So many fold styles and paper types--

 what seem to be long messages next to 

short, single-fold memos. 

Why leave a note stuffed in the 

wall of a busy coffee shop? 

Is it like a prayer or a plea for help?

Which one is that final break-up note, 

a long-awaited proposal, 

 or the last clue in a treasure hunt?

I didn't read a single one, though the 

urge was so strong. 

Maybe next time, I'll sneak a peek ...

(Message wall at Carabello Coffee, Newport, Kentucky)

 

Feathery Curls

That gorgeous hat!

If you watch Masterpiece Classic at all, you might have had the same thought. 

Hats cover a multitude of problems and make the wearer look smart and styled 

at the same time. Do you wonder, like I do, why they went out of fashion? 

This lovely bit of feathery frippery must have been much-envied in the heyday of hats.

Curled feathers mimic beautifully curled and arranged tresses— 

convenient if the wearer didn't own the same.

This hat flew out of my Etsy shop. 

Someone in Oregon is looking fabulous in this right now. 

I have more hats for sale if you'd like to sport one of your own.

Hot Juices

Do you enjoy finding once-beautiful things gone shabby and ragged?

In those moments of discovery, 

(at a thrift shop, in a yard sale box, even in a pile of free-to-a-good-home stuff)

 the excitement of what "could be" nudges my elbow, and I'm a goner.

(some of my favorite materials)

And contrary to what you may think - 

"All of us were made to be creative people. Creative juices run hot through our veins."

- from the Desiring God website

If you need more convincing, here's Chuck Colson's Breakpoint article.

He says that in every area of life, creativity plays a major role.

"The reason is simple: part of our nature as image bearers of God 

the Creator is to be sub-creators."

If I popped over to your house, what creative project would I find you working on? 

Dream studio - here

Something to Hope For

Wouldn't it be nice if this really happened?

I know the more jaded gardeners out there are snickering right now. 

Yes, we all know that plant tags are only plastic bits of high-flying imagination.

You'd probably laugh out loud if you knew I planted another
butterfly bush this fall. 

Go ahead and guffaw. 

But if this happens, I'll be the one laughing!

Specializing in N&R

Holiday Nonsense and Ramblings

with links. 

Don't miss the links for extra fun and educational opportunities.

- 'Iced Berries'  While ice on the roads is awfully dangerous, ice on berries and winter vegetation is beautiful. This photo is from last year, the famed Polar Vortex Winter.

- Why doesn't Blogger add Jellyka King's Hat font?  It would be like wearing the most elegantly black six-inch stiletto heels with every outfit. It would make your writing look outstanding, even if it wasn't in actual fact. 
If only I could address my Christmas cards like this. 

- If you lived in the top .001% of the world's wealthy, would you get one of these for Christmas? Thank goodness the rest of us in the everyday throng are not going to be getting this 'under the tree'! I ask you who would, who could ever get up from there? Lord, preserve me from ever having enough to purchase a Dream Wave! 
(advertised on WLW during this morning's school drive. 
hello - know your audience!)

- A dear friend gave me a leather journal as a gift because she knows I have a love affair with blank paper. So I used it this morning. Who knows,  maybe this will be the first journal ever in which I write on more than fifteen pages. I'm a journal starter, not a journal continuer. That being confessed, I must contradict myself to say that I do have a journal in progress that I've added to for at least ten years. It's an old journal from 1963 that I found at a yardsale and snapped up for it's mid-century good looks. I record scriptures in this one - the game changers that demand to be written down and remembered. Occasionally, I'll add something that was said in a sermon or a conversation that proved to be rhema. But absolutely no pressure for a daily/weekly/monthly update - maybe that's the secret to persevering in journal-keeping.

- On recent grocery visits, I have collected the ingredients for buckeyes at least twice, only to put it all back and rush over to the plasticware department - or any department where chocolate is not sold. These cannot live in my house until Christmas week. It's our dysfunctional holiday tradition that I make a huge batch in early December, hide them for Christmas, and the male-type people around here sniff them out and devour them. But these fun and games will have to wait, or I the only thing I will get for Christmas is new pants.

- And it's not too late, and no one is too old to enjoy an Advent Calendar by Jacquie Lawson. I buy myself one every year, and everyone ends up browsing it for themselves, no matter that they are burley men. 

Here, Fishy, Fishy!

Only a few hydrangeas had any blooms here this season, due to the incredibly harsh winter just past.

The only traditional hydrangea of mine that had any blooms was a single Blue Billows bush. 

Not usually one of my favorites, but I appreciated the blue when it was so scarce in my garden this spring.

* This morning I saw that one of my Nikko bushes has added a whole new 

layer of small blooms!  It's going to do a fall bloom!  Whoo-hoo!

Super short stems make Blue Billows work best in a very small vase.

My fish is interested in anything that happens in his windowsill. 

I tell you, this fish is more like a dog in a bowl than a regular pet fish.

He (it?) rests on the bottom of his vase until someone comes to the sink for a drink 

or to wash dishes. Then he flutters at the edge, watching the water stream and wanting attention. 
Or food, whichever. 

His wife is in the background - a solar hula dancer from the Dollar Tree.

He is, after all, a 'fighting fish', so it took them a while to make their relationship work, 

but now they are inseparable. 

Head in the Clouds

We did a LOT of driving in June, trekking to the Smoky Mountains and 

Virginia Beach. On our last day of vacation, instead of dozing with head 

lolling for the entertainment of the all, I was snapping these.

Does anyone see the elephant in these clouds?

A scary clown???

In the home stretch, there was a heated ABC Game*, with a unsolvable snarl 

around letter 'X'.  I ended up on the losing team.

So glad to be home and back in familiar routines!

SIDE NOTE:

*The ABC Game - Our Version - This can be played as an all car game or as a competition between teams, persons, rows, etc.  I prefer the competition since I want to be the winner, of course. Work your way through the alphabet, in order, finding words on signs, buildings, trucks, other cars, license plates - anything. 

- Yell out your word and tack on irritating celebration phrases like, "Take that, Sucka!" (I'm sharing the most polite examples here.) If you have a wicked laugh, throw that in too.

- No abbreviated words or acronyms allowed: KOA does not count for letter 'K'. 

Especially since the 'K' in that word stands for 'Kampgrounds', one of those nasty intentional misspellings. 

- No reusing exactly the same word by multiple teams/players:

 " 'C' - Cracker!" 

"Oh! 'C' for us too - Cracker!"

Nope. No way, no how. Find your own C.

Same word found on different signs - that's (reluctantly) allowed.

- Special allowances are made for Q and X and maybe Z, if you get that far. Any word CONTAINING one of these can count.  

- Placing a friendly bet can keep things interesting. Some examples: 

Winner gets to choose the radio station for 50 miles.

Loser carries the winner's luggage.

Winner gets first bed choice. 

Winner gets to order first at the next restaurant.

Loser cleans the garbage out of the car at the next stop.

Winner gets to choose a treat at the next gas station.

Loser may not speak for an hour ... (a personal favorite)

Give In To Wonder

What could be more lovely and ethereal than a floating lamp? 

But then, something about sending fire into the air to roam free left me chewing one nail.

At the same time, I wanted to clap with glee and maybe even give a mascot cheer.

Something must be really wrong with me - I could watch that over and over again!

The Pirate! That Bee!

I think the PARENT persona battles the CHILD within, do you? 
I certainly hope you are still aware of your child self - 

the part of you quick to gasp in wonder or excitement? 

that bit inside that leaps forward when ice cream is available? 

that overwhelming impulse to fling something...   

A long time ago around a campfire, I saw a  mostly grown person leap to her feet and dance with complete abandon. Sparked by the fast-paced worship music, she circled the fire, singing and dancing, waving her arms, and laughing aloud. In that moment, her joy and freedom, expressed without any trace of dignity or reserve, deeply moved me.  A few of the younger people in the group jumped up to join, but I remained rooted to my log seat,  filled with admiration and denied longing. 

While lighting Chinese lanterns this weekend, I read the directions aloud with extra emphasis and cautioned all involved (with my best parental voice)  about proper use of the lighter. But as the lantern filled and tugged itself from our fingertips to float through the dusk and hover just over the apple trees ... I gave in to wonder. 

A little clapping and cheering never hurt anybody!

Balloon Buddy Tutorial - Meet Henry

  Meet Henry.

 He's been floating around our house since last Friday night, an envoy of all things Valentine. 

1.  Buy any helium inflated balloon at your local Dollar Tree or other super-deep discount store. 

 When I taught first grade, I used to get a Christmas air walker for my classroom - sometimes a snowman, a reindeer, and once - a Santa!  Carried by air currents to visit desks  and perch on bookshelves, occasionally the silent wanderer would drift across the heat vent and go shooting at high speed across the classroom.  

(producing screams and giggles of delight)

2. Use any color crepe paper in lengths of 12 inches or so to make arms and legs. Attach them to the bottom and sides of the balloon with clear tape. I used packaging tape.

3. Cut gloves and shoes from light paper and attach to the arms and legs with tape. I used the paper insert from a box of candy, but you could use construction paper, wrapping paper, a magazine cover, etc.

 An impulse buy at the Dollar Tree, this re-made Valentine's Day balloon has made for some cheap entertainment for my family here at home. I wish I had made these for my kids when they were little! But even as teens, they are enjoying the travels of this little character around our house.  

He does turn up in unexpected places...

We've found him waiting at the top of the stairs and staring into the computer screen.

He's been found by the back door waiting to go out with the dog, and he's 

hovered in front of the TV screen for a better view of Olympic curling.

4. Make eyes from a scrap of computer paper and tape or glue them to the balloon. I traced the bottom and top of a vitamin bottle with a Sharpie marker to get  nice round circles. To save weight, you could draw the eyes (and other features) directly on the balloon with a permanent marker.

 

It's been a nice distraction from the 

snow/ice/sleet/rain/snow/ice/sleet/rain!

5. He (or she!) should float with shoes coming to rest every now and then. To add weight, attach paperclips to the shoes.  As the balloon begins to deflate, just remove paperclips. You may need to shorten the arms/legs, or trim the shoes and gloves to keep your character light enough to float as the helium escapes.

Extra Thoughts:

- The possibilities for these are endless, and they last for about a week! 

- Spring-themed balloons will be in the stores soon - a Flower Balloon Buddy?

- A Birthday Balloon Buddy would be a fun surprise to find at the breakfast table. 

- Use a plain balloon and allow a child's imagination and creativity lots of room for expression. How about using some feathers or and shapes instead of gloves? 
 You might add yarn shoestrings for weight instead of paper clips. 
Print photos of real eyes/noses/smiles instead of hand-drawn.

- A Balloon Buddy would make a perfect 'listening pal' to hear stories 
read by an otherwise reluctant reader.

- Have your Buddy hide in the closet of an unsuspecting teenager...
 or behind the shower curtain... in the garage? 

So much excitement - for so little money!

Outdoor Play

Staring out at the bird feeder --- 

It's like watching characters in a play.

Over the weekend, THE MOB swarmed in to terrorize the 'good' birds.

But one was there to fight back ...

More on that later.

Incidentals:

-8 on the car temp display this morning on the way to school drop-off.

*

It will be a miracle if any of my container perennials survive so many below zero days

 in their metal tubs.

*

$900+ gas bill for only 30% fill on the propane gas tank. Gulp.

*

A lavish display of $1 primroses at the local market made me feel like cheering!

It was a punch-to-the-face of Winter.  

*

How do ducks keep their feet in ice water and not end up with stumps? 

Now that's something to research.

*

Clearance amaryllis bulbs about to bloom - "Apple Blossom". 

Paperwhites all finished and trimmed, but still growing their creepy roots.

*

There is a giant snowman in our backyard with an aluminum berry pail on his 

head. We are not too old to play in the snow!

*

Oh, Downton! 

Night Moves

The sound woke us up at about 3 a.m.

I keep one window cracked open, and I was the first to hear the repetitive, sharp sound.

Only a few seconds at the window was needed to determine that the sound was coming

from the garbage cans by the carport. 

Figuring it out was pretty much a no-brainer, in view of the pork roast debacle of the day before:

there were two juicy, raw and mostly rotten slabs of pork in those garbage cans 

AND 

raccoons stalk our garbage cans.

There you have it --- a recipe for disaster.

My Brave Husband went out with his biggest flashlight and tried to scare the raccoon 

away from his feast, but how intimidating can one be in blue boxers?

Maybe if he had worn camo boxers...?

In the morning, this is what we found. 

A guilty young raccoon all alone in the can. 

No pork and no accomplices to be found, pressed flatly to the bottom

 of the can, hoping and maybe praying for invisibility.

Even after the can was kicked over, he hung around until we gave up spying on him.

A pretty bold kinda 'coon.

 

A Courtyard Connection

Aside from the lions everywhere,

there were so many really remarkable sculptures in St. Augustine!

The bust of a monk, only visible through the gates of a locked cemetery. 

He looks a little bit smug, I think. His expression is certainly unusual -

 a wry twist of the lips? Maybe he hoped his likeness would be displayed in

one of the elaborate cathedrals in town - but he ended up in an obscure graveyard.

How unhappy to have a sculpture made of you with your mouth

wide open like that! You know something has crawled up in there and is 

waiting for the pizza delivery guy. 

And this fellow in a courtyard was my favorite. 

We made an instant connection, he and I.

He's barely got his head on, and it looks like it was made from

an entirely different material than the rest of his body. 

I can identify.

My impression is that he was a sailor, coming home from a long voyage.

Possibly on which he was forced to acquire a new head? 

I don't know - it's hard to get away from the head detail. 

But just look at the wide smile! 
That alone makes him different and special.

Out and In

Out through a door,

in through a window.

It's been a rough couple of months. 

Life became overwhelming, and when that happens, 

you gotta cut the extras and tend to the 

absolutely necessary.

Anybody else ever had to do that?

But it's nice when you get grab some of 

the extra back again. 

Let It Fly

It's almost time for the dog to get a good grooming.

We only do it twice a year - she's that sort of dog.

The men around here always send me with a single special request for the groomer.

They always ask me to make sure her MOHAWK does not get trimmed.

That sprout of orangish hair is not very dignified, 

but I've been told that it's her trademark.

Side Note:

I actually took this photo because the dear dog is busy making nose art (which I hate).

Yes, nose art is what I've heard it called, and I've decided to adopt that description  for my own.

Isn't it great how renaming something yucky can make it seem ....

 less yucky???

Use with care - this cannot be applied in every situation.

Believe me if you're able - I HAVE spent time trying to train the dog to keep 

her nose off the glass. But when the neighborhood man-dog tramp sashays past?

She just turns into a hot mess. And my heart goes out to our celibate, unsocialized

but beloved family dog. I toss training right out the window. 

It's time to let the nose art just happen. 

Just let it fly.

Pick your battles.

Know when to quit.

Be reasonable.

***Feel free to add your own quippy wisdom.***

But I'll draw the line at this clever quote - 

If you can't beat 'em, join 'em!

The Weekend Brew

Cats

I have a love - hate relationship with CATS.

Doesn't everyone?

When I was a little girl, a favorite activity on a trip to the family farm involved barn kittens. Climbing around in the loft of the calf barn to find their clever hiding spot, managing to catch one and hold on long enough to tame it. Oh So Sweet Babies! - after they had finished hissing and spitting, and had become 'tame', of course. Warm and groggy after being lavished with hours childish love, they were content to lay flat out in the crook of an arm. I always arrived back at the house in time for dinner with my eyes red and itchy, and every scratch a welt.

 So allergic but completely happy! 

My childhood best friend had cats at her house. I did not love them. They were elusive phantom-ish cats - never allowing themselves to be caught and loved but leaving enough dander around to cause my itching eyes to swell shut. It was pretty embarrassing to be the only girl at the pajama party with weeping eye blisters. 

What? You didn't know that eyes can blister? 

 It's not pretty,  folks.

As a teenager, my family kept outside cats. I did love them and defended them from my brothers  who collaborated with my boyfriend to discover if cats really walk backward when their ears are taped down. By then I'd learned to have (a little) better self-discipline and found that I could manage my allergy and still snuggle my cat if I washed my hands immediately afterward and changed my clothes. 

It was worth it, Whiskers!

One of my dearest friends in high school (and to this day) had cats. We called her pets the Demon Cats, and they earned the title. They attacked at dinner, after our vulnerable legs had been tucked under a tablecloth.  When you least expected it, after you thought you might be safe, maybe as you raised a forkful of Aunt Shirley's luscious chicken dumplings to your mouth, a tiny furry rocket would race from a hiding place and launch to your leg, all claws extended, hang on for a frantic ride and deliver a final spiteful bite before racing away.  Aluminum dining table chairs were flipped over backward and we would lay gasping and bleeding like carp on a dock.  My friend declared that her cats were only 'that way' around us. 

I think they were  just un-tamed barn cats. 

(photos of my cousin's cats just before Christmas this year)