Guess who is going to be getting busy in the dirt this weekend?
I am attempting to compensate for my black thumb by leaving love notes to my garden lovelies.
Don’t laugh.
It might actually work.
Happy Weekend 🙂
Dear Tomato Plants
The Planter Purse
Raise your hand if you have a kooky neighbor who uses boots and suitcases as planters.
Raise your hand if you are the kooky neighbor who uses boots and suitcases as planters.
Ah Ha! Thought so.
So, I didn’t have any boots around this summer, but this cheapy old teal green faux patent leather purse had seen better days. The zipper was gone and the lining was grimy…time to try something new!
So I punched some holes, filled it with dirt, called it a day. Some leftover Styrofoam peanuts at the bottom should help with drainage, assuming I don’t kill the poor thing first.
I’m probably not supposed to say this. Oh well.
First off, I need to tell you that the best part about blogging is forming new relationships and receiving positive, constructive feedback from people all around the world. Nothing beats a kind word from a stranger. Nothing. Sometimes I fear, well, perhaps it is narcissistic to post the things I do and to crave your responses as much as I have. Perhaps by admitting that here I can keep my ego in check.
Help me Rhonda, I’ll try….
That said, you can imagine my astonishment last December when my inbox was flooded by comments and emails that referred to one of my posts as “slanderous garbage” and called me a “white devil jew who does not know anything of people in the world besides yourself and your kind.”
That was fun.
The best was when someone was nice enough to send me a photo of a dead cat.
Sweet.
Nothing, nothing, could have prepared me for the hornet’s nest kicked up by my post Dinosaurs: A Disco Christmas in Saudi Arabia, mostly from individuals outraged at my description of the Saudi Arabian legal system, and the civil liberties of Saudi Arabian women in particular…
Back then, when I first wrote it, I expected some ruffled feathers and asked a friend to help me edit it down and add some hedging language that I thought would lessen the blow, and since the whole point of the story was about finding your own brand of faith in spite of your surroundings, well, I honestly didn’t think anyone would be offended.
Apparently not.
Some folks were still ticked. Real Ticked. From the looks of my site traffic that week, it appears a link to my story was posted in some sort of web forum that encouraged people to leave nasty comments and emails. Luckily most were in another language that I couldn’t even read and the rest were easy to delete, but the incident rattled me for months….
Until today.
I received an email from Hala, a young woman in Saudi Arabia, who informed me that one of my posts, the very same one that caused all the controversy, was circulated to her as part of the numerous social media campaigns encouraging Saudi Arabian Women to drive on June 17th. No idea how that happened, or what drop in the bucket that post might contribute, but it’s nice to know good things can come out of even the worst situations. Hala’s single email neutralized the many, many other hateful, discouraging messages from months earlier. I can’t thank her enough.
And far more important than my Stuart Smally-esque need for affirmation, Hala’s email draws my further attention to the issue at hand; the women of Saudi Arabia deserve the right to drive. And much, much more. Given the Arab Spring, all systems indicate massive change is coming to Saudi Arabia in the months and years ahead. It is my assumption—no, my wish—that those words in my post from last December becomes outdated and archaic. Until then, I hope we can all lend an ear and an ounce of support to all the ladies looking to turn the key. No pun intended 🙂
Peace be upon you.
The Fickle Kitty: For Cats Who Hate Toys
Warning: This post is 90% gratuitous cat photos and 10% craft tutorial for people who enjoy gratuitous cat photos. If you are a dog person, feel free to click away and see what Perez is doing today. Try back again tomorrow.
So here is the thing about cat toys: not that many cats like them.
Cats are active creatures but it appears that squeeze toys and jingle bell balls don’t cut it. Cat’s are fickle. They like texture. They like smells. They like sounds reminiscent of rodent-like death rattles.
Lola hates toys. I just can’t tell you how much money I have wasted on jangly bits, only to take them home to dangle before Her Highness and be shot down with a look, as if to say, Seriously? WTF am I supposed to do with a raccoon tail on a stick? Pathetic. Don’t you have a bathmat I can pee on? Seriously? A racoon tail….HA! That’s a good one.
So a couple months ago, when I saw her take an interest in a pile of vintage ric rac I was giving away, it was a momentous occasion. Initially I thought she was drawn to the smell, but no, it’s the texture she likes. The skinny ric rak is a particular favorite. It runs through her paws and she thinks it’s alive or something. I just dangle a string and she goes at it like a prize fighter. Tape it to a stick and it gets even better.
Materials
- Wooden dowel as long as your arm
- Skinny rick rack trim, roughly as long as you are tall
- Electrical tape
Do y’all really need instructions? Just get your kitty dancing and go to town.
We could do this all day.
Party math: Are you a left brain or a right brain?
The world is divided into two kinds of people: left brains and right brians (see description).
So, I was recently at an event that was swanky enough to require me to wear pantyhose in 90degree heat. It was awful. No one was having a good time. Somewhere in the mumbles of small talk, a guest tapped their spoon to a glass and said “I have a party trick!”
You play along at home…
Think of two numbers:
*The year you were born*The age you will be on Christmas Day of this year
Now add those numbers together. (For example someone born in November 1982 would add 82+29)
Have you got it? What is your magical number?
Abracadabrasiskbbombah, your magical number is 111!
Yes, somehow, everyone ends up with 111.
Right Brain Reaction: Holy cow, how did you know my number? That’s amazing! OMG I have to tweet this ASAP!
Left Brain reaction: Um, that’s a simple math problem. I thought you said there was a party trick?
So, are you a left brain or a right brain?
A Mermaid Parade for Munchkins
Anyone going to the Coney Island Mermaid Parade this weekend? Lucky you!
Although, if you have a munchkin at home like these little ladies, I’m guessing the answer is no. Sadly, despite its name friendly name, the Mermaid Parade isn’t exactly munchkin-friendly. Hello tattooed bearded lady! Did you paint that bikini all by yourself?
So for everyone who can’t make it to the parade this weekend, for whatever reason, I thought it might be fun to make some mermaid hats.
I heart hats. I heart craft foam. Tada, a parade is born!
Hello, Inigo Montoya!
 |
| Just a mock up. This frame is far too ostentatious. |
Good news y’all.
I did it.
I finally found a place in Mexico that is preserving the fine art of black velvet painting.
Their name is, and I’m dead serious here; From Scary Clowns to Republicans ~ The Tijuana Black Velvet Painting Galleries
of Indignico Inc.
Because who wants a scary clown to hang in the bathroom? Everyone. That’s who.
Do you really need an oil painting of Dick Cheney over the mantel? Shut up. Of course you do.
And here is the best part: THEY TAKE CUSTOM ORDERS.
For years, and I’m not joking here, I have dreamed of owning a black velvet painting that captures the Latin flair of Inigo Montoya, as portrayed by the award-winning and always effervescent star of stage and screen, Mr. Mandy Patinkin.
Years, y’all. And now it can be mine.
UPDATE: Don’t bother with that Tijuana place–turns out, the image above is a REAL BLACK VELVET PAINTING! And now it is mine!
Sort of like Twilight, except everyone kept their shirt on.
Guys, meet Wolfy. He is a wolf in sheep’s clothing* and, as pictured above on the left, a gift from my fourth birthday. As you can see, I also got a Snoopy Sno-cone Machine** that day. It was a very good year.
Wolfy was one of the few stuffed animals I truly loved as a child and one of the very, very few that I managed to keep all these years. Cloaked as a simple lamb, his job was to sit at the foot of my bunk bed and guard against monsters and bogymen, ready to bust out of his disguise, bare his teeth, and rip apart any potential source of danger. Sort of like Twilight, except everyone kept their shirt on.
*Note, I only recently learned that the expression A Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing, is a bad thing. Apparently it comes from the Bible and is something one is supposed to avoid (Watch out for false prophets. They come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly they are ferocious wolves)…Does everyone know this except me? And if so, why would they make stuffed animals of false prophets? This is slightly disturbing, but somehow, it makes me appreciate Wolfy (and Twilight) a little more.
**Speaking of false prophets, I have a critical news flash: SNOOPY’S SNO CONE MACHINE IS STILL IN PRODUCTION. Buy it here and you can have it in hand before this blessed heat wave is over. Your welcome.
The Glittering Bacon Lamp
Please note, I did not set out to create a lamp that looks like glittering bacon.
Yes, I’m weird, but not that weird.
Yes, okay, I have a painted sofa and keep chocolate in the bathroom…
I have been known to eat pie for breakfast…
My favorite color is possum fur...
But I give you my word, I did not set out to make a lamp that looks like glittering bacon.
It started out something closer to a fruit leather chandelier, but sometimes things take a new direction and you are left with something that resembles “the peeling paint off an old truck” or “rusted roof shingles” or “the scales of a fire breathing dragon” or “the bellies of koi fish” or “glittering bacon!”
And, well, with options like that, you just know the bacon had to win out.
Old truck my butt.
Craft Fail or Happy Accident?
I have to be honest and tell you that this project did not come out anything like I expected. I had worked with resin in the past and loved the results, so when ETI sent me a box to try out, I jumped at the chance to experiment. My previous experience working with resin led me to believe it would peel away from aluminum foil. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
Initial Plan: Pour blobs of resin on aluminum foil, let it dry, peel away the foil, then hang the remaining pieces on an embroidery hoop like illuminated pieces of fruit leather. Sounds cool huh?
Reality Check: The resin stuck to the 80% of the foil. It peeled away from the 20% where resin was laid on really thick…and even though that was really frustrating, the end result was far cooler than I expected. Whoooopeee! The foil’s rippled texture showed through the resin and the jagged shapes looked like dragon scales. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome.
Materials
- Envirotex Lite High Gloss Finish. This includes two 8oz bottles of Resin and Hardner.
- Measuring cup and disposable spoon
- Paprika
- Aluminum foil
- Chicken wire
- 28 gauge wire cut into 2″ pieces, or leftover ornament hooks
- Light chord kit
- REQUIRED: open window and a working fan
The resin is going to spread while it dries, sort of like baking cookies, so you need to set down parameters. I thought about using aluminum cupcake liners, but decided I wanted more abstract shapes. I grabbed a 5′ piece of foil, then used my fingers to pinched 1″ pleats into the foil. Then I crimped up the edges, leaving a series of rectangular tray-like shapes. This is a very aproximate thing, no need to measure, just set up some guides so the resin doesn’t blend into one giant blob.
Now for the fun part! Mix together 4oz of hardener, 4oz of resin, and 2 tablespoons of paprika. Mix vigorously for at least 60 seconds. The end result is roughly the consistency of maple syrup.
Note: Be precise and follow the directions. Sloppy measurments can lead to sticky spots.
Note: You need to do this in a room with excellent ventilation. The smell is not bad at all, but don’t mess around with fumes. Open a window, turn on a fan, and use a mask if you are sensitive or doing a giant batch.
Note: I used paprika because I wanted a rusty red color, but you could use all sorts of spices or dry pigments to color the resin. I have had some success using old eyeshadow colors as well. Experiment for yourself, but I would be warry of using any sort of water based paint for fear it would tinker with the chemistry of the resin. Hmm, now I type that, and, in theory, the water should just evaporate away…meaning the drying time would be slowed but the pigments would remain. Hmmm, well, I’ll have to try it out and show you next time!
Use the spoon to pour blobs. Don’t get precious about it. It will shape itself far better than you can dictate, so let it go and loosen up. Let it dry 24 hours minimum. Be prepared to wait longer if you live in a humid climate or are doing this during a rainy season.
When it’s dry, tear away the excess foil.
There will be lots of jagged edges, and even though foil isn’t sharp, I didn’t want it straggling and looking all angry and sloppy like, so I put on my leather gardening gloves and rubbed all over the edges. This process tore away any ugly bits and softened the sharp edges. If I wasn’t such a lazy lump, I would have broke out the sandpaper, but that was asking way too much on this one.
Thread the wire through each piece and twist it like a Christmas ornament. Heads up, you might need to make your holes using a needle or a drill, depending on the thickness.
Making a lampshade out of chicken wire is easy –it’s just a simple tube. However, I realize not everyone is comfortable snipping wire and twisting it together, in which case you could certainly use a base made from an old wire lampshade. Or a birdcage. or hanging basket, or anything with little nooks for hanging. I hate that I just typed the word “nook.”
Starting at the bottom, hang each piece on the chicken wire, twisting as tight as you see fit.
Build layers upward. The tin foil is will block light, so I made sure to leave gaps and nooks (THERE IS THAT WORD AGAIN) for the light to peep through.
TaDa! You have an illuminated bacon lamp.
If bacon lamps aren’t your thing, there are out oodles of other creative projects that use ETI’s products featured on their blog. You can also check them out on facebook and the twitters.
Send me pictures if you make something!
The Donkey Display
It’s a very creative donkey display, don’t you think?
Hard to believe they have been dead since before you were born.
That’s the hallmark of quality taxidermy you know—they look younger than you.
It’s depressing.
Actually, I once had a job working for a taxidermist.
And by job, I mean eight hours spread over two days in a basement full of freezers while wearing a gas mask and listening to Fleetwood Mac.
And by taxidermist, I mean an artist who specialized in bodily restoration.
That’s what he called it: bodily restoration.
It sounds like something on a spa menu but the reality is closer to a plate of sloppy joes…
Working for a taxidermist probably strikes most people as gross, but I didn’t mind. Embarrassing? Sure, but I was young and the money was good and I figured I had seen plenty of dead stuff in my day. What was one more raccoon?
And besides, the taxidermist was a very nice man—not like these weirdo taxidermists you see on TV who live in their parents’ basement and get off on collecting body parts—quite the contrary, he was quiet and gentle with soft voice and an immaculate work space. Lots of coasters. Cleanest mustache you ever saw. Sometimes he would talk to the animals as he worked and say things like “are you sure you want to twist your neck to look to the right? The squirrel in the tree is on the left. See here….that’s better, isn’t it?” and of course, everyone agreed the left would be a much nicer place to gaze upon for all eternity.
On the downside, he smelled strange and listened to way too much Stevie Nicks. This one time, he told me he could only install glass eyeballs while listening to Sara because it “inspires an inner serenity” which was major creepy, yet, oddly complimentary, no?
I liked to think when Stevie Nicks sat down to compose the piece, she thought, I want to write a song that entrances a man into state so serene he is fit to install glass eyeballs into the head of a bird carcass.
You know, apparently Sara was actually written about Mick Fleetwood’s first wife, but I’m pretty sure Stevie is going to change her story when she hears my theory.
Anyway, this job, with the taxidermist, would be the first of two jobs where I was hired entirely based on the appearance of my hands. The moment the taxidermist saw them he flipped them over, held them to the light and declared they were “the hands of jeweler!”
He was getting up in years and his hands were not as steady as they used to be. Stuffing and sawing were not a problem, but he needed someone with steady hands to glue individual hairs and feathers around the facial features of the deceased. See, (and feel free to skip ahead if you just ate), if you have ever seen a dead animal, you know the areas around the eye sockets and mouth are the first to decompose, and since making a dead animal look alive again relies heavily on the appearance of realistic hair, my job would be of critical importance. He made a big deal about valuing my time and my talent, which was a first for me in the workplace. It’s hard to say how much I appreciated it at the time. Hallmark just doesn’t make cards for these things.
This post has already gotten more gruesome than I intended, so I’ll spare you the details of my eight hours of bodily restoration boot camp, sufficed to say, I quit shortly after a phone call with a client in Missouri who wanted me to color match the innards of a fox to see if they would be appropriate to use in his fishing gear. It didn’t matter how much I needed the money, a girl has standards.
Blah blah blah, where was I going with this? Oh yes, the taxidermied donkeys. So last weekend, Kiki and I went to the Field Museum, which is sort of like Chicago’s natural history museum—an essential library of taxidermy species, plus a basement of archived creatures that the public never gets see. The taxidermist I worked for was always very proud to say he had several birds on display at the Field, but I won’t show you pictures of them because I cannot remember which ones belong to him. I think there was an African partridge or two. Or something. Oh, I’m a bad employee…
|
| Photo Caption Wanted |
Anyway, while we were at the Field, I saw these donkeys on display. The taxidermist was highly critical of how subjects are positioned and thought they should mimic their natural environment. I’m guessing the people at the Field Museum are of similar ilk, so I wonder, honestly; what the hell is going on here?
These donkeys—are they kissing? Are they greeting? And that one in the middle looks shocked. It sort of looks like a scene from Three’s Company with Jack and Janet smooching on the couch and Krissy just walked in from the Regal Beagle.
Or maybe it’s something else.
I can’t decide. But it’s a very creative donkey display, don’t you think?