Friday, December 18, 2009

Monkey Money and Rappin Rodent



Dear Diary,

Whoa! I have been studying, working, and making monkeys! John had to go on Cobra and some friends wanted some monkeys after Gooch did the photo shoot so I have been making monkeys. I decided that instead of giving the monkeys away I would sell them then I could donate the money to the Cystic Fibrosis foundation. Then I thought Hey! I've got my little 25 year old cyst(That used to drive mama and me crazy when the nurses at the Birmingham Children's Hospital would call him "The Little Cyst" but now it is kind of funny!) right here that could use the money. Hell I could even use the money for my college tuition but, It will be fun to see if I can make his Cobra payment with Monkey Money! No more giving away monkeys. Over! Done! I'm selling those suckers. So far - $65.00 and it is only the 18th. I'm optimistic but don't think it will get paid by monkey money this month. Of course he balked when I told him my plan.

I found a stuffed Rat called the Rappin Rat that Raps that "It's your Birthday". Mini Me used to sing it in that commercial. You might not know this but that is my mamas special talent. She does a Mini Me routine with the hand motions and everything. It is really something to see. She was a hit at the last family talent show. I'm afraid that sista Janice will win hands down if she does her imitation of Little Edie performing the flag dance. Her costume and moves are so like Little Edie's that it will take your breath away. But back to my story..... I thought this rappin Rat would make a great Christmas present for my Mama. I saw him at CVS drugstore, my creative juices started churning and the idea of a rappin sock monkey came to mind. The perfect Christmas gift for my Mom. I bought it , brought it home and told Ian and his friend my idea. They loved it. That night after a few cocktails I carefully cut off his costume and beheaded him. Then I proceeded to make a sock monkey to fit over the shell. I got the arms on and was figuring out how to add the head/body when it started going off and repeating the rap over and over and over. I had accidentally cut through some wires so only one arm was moving to the rhythm and where the head had been a white plastic nub was rotating. Every time I tried to maneuver the sock, the damn thing would start playing again. My husband was starting to complain. Then it came to me that I could just remove the batteries but when I checked the battery holder the cover was screwed in. But, not with a hex head or slot screw, a new kind of screw. I guess I'll need a tool to get it open.

I need to go to Lowe's tomorrow anyway. The Poinsettias are 1/2 price.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Solana Beach Shopping Trip



Dear Diary,

My sister is coming for Thanksgiving. Her boys and husband are coming too. That will be fun. I've been studying alot so I haven't blogged. It is hard to do both. I've been doing all I can to Avoid house cleaning. I've painted a toy highchair and been making monkeys like I have jungle fever! I am addicted to making monkeys. It's like I am possessed by Charles Darwin or something similar. But I digress.....

My baby sista, Sarah Ann (Who we lovingly refer to as Precious) and I went shopping in Solana Beach, California, a couple of years ago. That town is pretty as a picture ( I can't spell picturesk). It was a beautiful day and we had money in our pocket books. A perfect time to spend. The first shop we entered was full of bric a brac and other wonderful accessories just begging to be picked up and fondled. We virtually had the run of the store because the employees /best friends/owners were oblivious to us - they were off to the side dressed in chic black outfits with blond flowing hair and perfect makeup. The "help" were chatting and laughing and so enthralled with each other that it would have been a shame to interrupt them. We left that store empty handed and headed to another.

The next shop looked like a magical snowy fairy land. Everything in the store was a shade of white. It was all crisp and cool looking. Nothing practical for a family with dogs, children, husbands or us. In my fantasy life, my cottage by the sea would be furnished like this store. George Clooney and I would be so happy, often looking into each others eyes and sighing a content sigh....... This shop, like the last had beautiful, blond, black clad proprietors. I'm being critical but thought they should have dressed in something paler and gauzy. But, they didn't ask me. In fact they didn't address us at all. Like in the other store, these ladies had so much to tell each other. They talked in hushed tones and were pouring over what looked to be a catalog. Never looking up. I don't think they even heard the bell that rang when we opened the door. Since we were raised right, we kept our voices at a respectful low and tried not to disturb them as we browsed.

We entered a boutique - same scenario, an art gallery, ditto. We were beginning to suspect that we were invisible. I reached out and touched my sister, she felt real, we stared at our reflections in the store front windows, we could see ourselves. What in the hell was going on?

Over lunch we discussed this strange phenomena. We came to the decision that these ladies must not have to sell anything to keep their stores open. Hence, the poor customer service. Maybe they had trust funds, alimony, made it rich on the stock market, or wealthy husbands that just wanted them to be happy. Maybe the stores were their hobbies, something to do to get them out of the house. Keep them from getting in the maid's way. The more we talked about it the more jealous we got. Baby sista and I were down right indignant when we left Solana Beach that afternoon. Why wasn't that our beautiful life?

Some times Precious and I fantasize about owning a shop together and how we are going to giggle and teehee and fix each others hair, stare at our painted finger and toenails, pose, flip through magazines, and ignore our customers . Wouldn't that be the life?

Thursday, November 5, 2009

Stuart - and one of many lost chances at Fame and Fortune


Dear Diary,

A dear friend passed away in May. Even though I had not seen him for years he is always in my heart. I met him at Lee High School. I was a Sophomore and he was a year older than me. Stuart was tall, thin and had great hair. I loved that he liked to hang out with me. He always had fabulous ideas. He was fun, fun, fun! I thought of him as my personal Cat in the Hat. He got me in lots of scraps but somehow he would make things right before Mom got home.

Once he talked me into taking our RED 1973 Honda 50 on a joy ride. It was a beautiful fall afternoon. Stuart was driving and I was on the back hanging on for dear life. We rode it to his house (off Highway 12) while he serenaded me - singing "Teenage Runaways"! We were not wearing helmets and that highway is so narrow and winding that it is a wonder we didn't get killed. We girls (the sistas) were only allowed to ride our motorcycle in the back yard.

Stuart was very witty. One time in High School a "hood" from the Air Force Base slammed Stuarts locker closed and asked him if he was a Basie (from the Air Force Base) or a Townie (from Town). Stuart replied, "I'm a County" (He lived outside the city limits). That Basie was later convicted of murdering a local Lawyer! Stuart always claimed that his mom and dad loved his little brother the most because he had blond hair and blue eyes and Stuart had brown hair and red eyes. Once at a bar he fashioned his straw into a triangle and stuck it on his nose. He proclaimed to all in an alien type voice, "I am from the Golden Triangle Region!" (That is what the area we are from is called because the three small cities in close proximity are like the points of a triangle.)

Stuart talked me into having a "wild" party at my parents house while they were out of town. We had a fabulous time and were the perfect host and hostess and would have gotten away with it too if a genuinely good hearted classmate had not told my Mother in the Sunflower Grocery Store parking lot what a beautiful new home we had and what a lovely time he had at the party! Stuart had fun parties at his house too. He and his brother shared a Toyota named Turkey Red. One night while leaving a party, I backed into Turkey Red! I was a wreck! Stuart said, "no worries, we have insurance". A few years later I let it slip to Stuart's Dad that it was me that maimed the Turkey. He had been told an unanimous driver had hit it in the parking lot at Leigh Mall.


He was my date to Senior Prom but had to leave early because he worked the night shift at Beneke Corp. They are called Magnolia now. They make toilet seats. I got him a gorgeous boutineer. He loved it and later that evening took a bite of it. He said he read some where that some flowers were edible! He wasn't the least bit embarrassed that he forgot to get me a corsage and later that evening he presented me with a beautiful one. I asked him where he got it. He said he got it off an empty table. I don't know whose it was, but I wore it proudly that evening and still have the dead thing in a scrap book in the attic. I regret that I didn't tell him to put it back. I know it was some heart broken classmate's.

On most Saturday Nights a group of us would go to the Country Club Golf Course. Stuart had worked there and said he knew the night watchman's schedule. It was a great place to drink beer and look at the stars. There is something special about rolling around on the golf greens at night. After a few beers we would usually take a golf cart ride. I'll never forget the night I learned to fly. I remember saying, "Stuart! you are going too fast!" then I was airborne. Stuart got confused and hit the gas instead of the break. I got a nasty bruise and a temporary limp from landing on the decorative bricks that lined the drive.

I guess our most exciting adventure was a road trip to Nashville. One summer we got this harebrained idea to get jobs at Opryland. He planned to get hired as an entertainer and I had experience in retail and could count back change so I'd have no trouble getting a job in one of the gift shops. (I still can't believe my parents were okay with the idea.) I was in charge of transportation and Stuart was in charge of reservations. I picked him up at his house Friday morning in my baby blue 1972 Pinto and off we went! We made lots of detours but finally arrived in Nashville around 7:00 p.m. We had about $20.00 left between us. We stopped to get gas, call our friend we were staying with and when we couldn't reach him, cleaned up a little in the nasty gas station bathroom before we went to dinner. We decided to celebrate our new beginning by dining at a what was to us a "nice restaurant". Stuart got a little agitated when they seated us in the back by the kitchen (which had a swinging door). I asked him again about our accommodations. All day he assured me he had them taken care of, nothing to worry about. At the restaurant I asked him to please call and get directions. I was starting to get tired and we had found out at the gas station that there was a major prostitute war going on in Nashville. Prostitutes were killing each other! Frankly, I was nervous. I knew what a prostitute was but had never seen one. I was scared that I might be mistaken for one. That may sound ridiculous but at that time in my life I was naive and scared most of the time about things that could never possibly happen, happening.

Stuart made the long walk back to our table with no smile. He said, "Lisa, I can't get a hold of David." I said, "He knows we are coming, right?" I'll never forget what Stuart said next. "I thought we'd surprise him!" We had just spent the last of our money on our celebratory dinner and had just a few dollars between us. We needed a new plan. One of our friends lived in Memphis! She and her husband would probably love to see us! I called Elizabeth. She and her husband were thrilled to let us stay the night but, they were going to Mississippi Saturday morning so we'd have to leave then too. We made it to Memphis but I did fall asleep at the wheel and woke up on a bridge but luckily in the right lane. I've often thought about that and wondered how far I drove while sleeping and also about the great schematics of life.

What if David Stampley had been home and expecting us that night? What if we actually did get summer jobs at Opryland? What if we were discovered by a famous Hollywood agent and the rest of our lives were magical like Sandra Bullock's or Nathan Lane's? and What if we had not spent all our money on the way to Tennessee and had been able to get a hotel room that night? What if some prostitute saw me entering the seedy affordable motel room with Stuart and shot me thinking I was an encroaching prostitute? What if I had not woken up while driving on that bridge.

Monday, October 19, 2009

What a Trip!



Alice wasn't sure if it was her Birthday or Un-Birthday


Dear Diary,

There is never enough time when you visit. You always want one more day!

Sista Sarah Ann and I decided when we bought our plane tickets to GTR to leave Tuesday. That would give us an extra day with Momma and Daddy after all the party hoopla was over. After sista Janice and sista Lucy left Sunday things got a little quieter,( I had more time to move around my parents' house without some nosy sista looking over my shoulder) sticking duct tape with my name on it under various treasures I hope to eventually inherit. Sista Lucy always accuses me of doing this. (I do have my name under a few sentimental things like the front tire of the Lincoln and Momma's big ole diamond ring.)

We got ready to leave Tuesday and I discovered that I had bought so much stuff at the garage sales that I had to borrow a suitcase to haul some of it back. It was an avocado green hard case. Like the one I got for high school graduation back in 1975 - a Samsonite. I had trouble getting it to close. It didn't shut real well. Sista Sarah Ann tried sitting on it. That didn't work because she only weighs about 98 pounds. I laid on top of it, no go, then tried laying across it using all my upper body strength to get it closed and finally, before my arms got too weak and trembly it snapped shut. Nothing broke in it thanks to the heavy duty Samsonite siding.

We got to the airport and I told my Mom and Dad and Sista that if they needed some one to stay behind because they over booked the flight, I was going to volunteer. I needed to stay one more day. I wasn't satisfied with my visit length. There were still too many left overs in the fridge and not enough time had been spent sitting, visiting, and watching the prime time TV show lineup. When we checked our bags, we found out the plane was late. So we waited. The four of us were sitting in a line, people watching and chatting when over the loud speaker they announced that the plane was unbalanced and they needed volunteers to stay.

I hopped on that one! I said, "Sarah Ann, why don't you go check it out and see what they are offering." (She is a better listener than I am.) She said, "I've got to go to work tomorrow." I said, "I don't I'm an independent contractor!" Sarah Ann came back after about 5 minutes and said, "They are offering us money or a voucher and a taxi ride to Birmingham, Alabama to catch the next plane if we give up our seats." I followed her back to the counter, there was a man there talking to the ticket agent that was taking the deal and would be traveling with us. I looked at sista Sarah Ann, This man wasn't the type you would want to share a cab with for a short trip much less two and a half hours. It was not just because he was smelly and unkept. I am not a snob but I can't tolerate a bore. We could tell right away he was boring and he was quite a talker too. I was hesitant to take the deal now. I asked if we could still have the deal if we left tomorrow and stayed another day. The Ticket Agent said yes. I said - "Well then I'm staying another day!" Sista Sarah Ann looked at me with wild eyes! She said again, "But I have to work tomorrow!" I reminded her,again, that I was an independent contractor. The boring man turned and started eyeing his future seat companion. Sista Sarah Ann blurted out, "If you can fly me first class from Atlanta to San Diego, I'll stay another day too!" Miraculously, they were able to accommodate her!

You know, your family can bring the best or the worst out in you. When sista Janice found out about our good fortune she was livid because she had missed her flight into GTR for the birthday and had to rent a car and drive from Memphis. She said all she got was an "I'm having a shitty day discount" on her car. Here we were with all these wonderful lovely parting gifts for delaying our flight that we didn't want to go on in the first place. Like I said, when Sista Janice found out about our reprieve she got spitting mad. She was venting at us but, in her heart, I know she was just upset because she had not been treated as well by the same airline after her misfortune. Sista Lucy called that night too. She had read sista Janice's rants on face book and wanted to hear about our big Bonanza!

We enjoyed our extra day with family. But when we got to the Airport Wednesday we had to leave. One good thing did happened - I had been upgraded to first class too! Sista Sarah Ann and I found out that the warm towel is no myth. Personally, I thought it was so classy the way the stewardess picked up our trash and placed it on a tray instead of dropping it in a big white plastic bag. I never want to fly coach again!

Friday, October 9, 2009

Great Day in the Morning!



Dear Diary,

What a wonderful day I have had! I went to see Jenny this morning and I had only gained 1.6 pounds! Can you believe it? While I was in Mississippi, I ate a whole bag of fried peanuts (that may account for 8 ounces). Aunt Mary made pecan brittle and I partook of a large portion of that. Then there was the fish fry and the ribs and Mexican Kitchen. It seemed like everything I ate was greasy or covered in chocolate icing and supersized. Jennie also quizzed me about my trip. I wasn't sure how to answer some of the questions. For instance, Did you stay on plan while you were in Mississippi? Did you watch your portion size? I do believe that it is important to be truthful so I just flippantly retorted "Are you kidding?" (An improvement from the usual "Hell No!") I felt like I was in therapy when she asked me how I felt after seeing sista Janice. (Sista Janice has been sending me the fat clothes she no longer needs.) I could answer that one perfectly honest - She looked great! Way to go Sista!

Next, I went to the antique mall. Big sale this weekend. I bought some figurines from Japan. I love little figurines from Japan (see above). Judy's booth looked great!

Then, I went to Mystic Paper. I needed some new Tim Holtz scissors. Something happened to mine. They were either left behind in Mississippi or whoever searched my checked bag took them. I feel a little like Scarlet when I say this but, "As God is my witness, I will never go without Tim Holt scissors again!" They are self sharpening! How does he do that? I would say they are a modern marvel. But I digress....

While I was there who should I meet but The Quinn McDonald! (Ya'll are just going to have to google her because I have tried and tried to link her site and can't get it to work.) I was so glad to be able to put a name with the face. I mean Face with the Name. She was talking about writing secret code messages. Very Interesting. I immediately thought about writing my friend notes using lemon juice and getting notes back from her written with lemon juice. I still have a note she wrote that I carefully toasted over a lit bare light bulb back in the 70's. Quinn showed us this little code book. It was interesting to think about writing secret messages. What would I want to write about but also keep secret? The first thing that popped in my head was - old lovers hmmmmm or maybe recipes? What? I'm on Facebook and blogging - I tell all my secrets. Those I manage to keep will probably come babbling out of my mouth at my future nursing home.

Sunday, September 27, 2009

I'm going to Mississippi and I am going to take a .....


Dear Diary,

I leave Thursday morning for Mississippi! Momma says it will be in the low 80's. Sista Lucy says it will be in the low 70's. They both say bring a sweater. I bought a really cool mink sweater pin at the antique mall but I don't believe I'll pack it or a sweater. I'll be a rebel and buck authority. I haven't felt chilly in I don't remember when. It is still over 100 degrees here! A day hasn't gone by that I haven't sweated down my butt crack! It's not bad enough that I'm still going through menopause and have teenagers. We have record high temps too. Well enough of that.

Sista Lucy called me tonight. We are all getting excited about seeing each other. Sista Janice arrives Wednesday. I arrive Thursday and sista Sarah Ann is flying to Nashville and driving down with sista Lucy Thursday.

Sista Lucy asked me a question tonight that made me pause - "What are we going to do for entertainment?" Well, Thursday night we are having a catfish fry - that's always entertaining. Friday is the Big Birthday party for Daddy - He will be 82. We can play some party games. One sista suggested pin the hemorrhoid on the Daddy. I searched Martha Stewart's site and didn't see anything that looked more fun than that. We considered a talent contest. My cousin Lynne will be there from Birmingham, Alabama and she sings like a lark. She will have no serious competition so that will not be fun. Sista Janice usually plays "Don't tell Aunt Rhody" on the tonette, sista Sarah Ann can still fit in her tap costume she wore as a child (but that's not her talent, tapping is) and I would perform Elizabeth Taylor's dramatic monologue from Suddenly last Summer. Although sista Lucy is multi-talented she usually sits on the sidelines and makes fun of us all. I used to consider my talent - twirling the baton - but a couple of years ago when I participated in the 5th grade talent show my act was recorded. I no longer twirl in public.

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Beeswax Silouette

Dear Diary,

I have been studying and substituting so have not felt like blogging about my hopes and dreams. Since it has been over a week - I thought I would post an essay my son John wrote when he was in college at ASU. The teacher gave him an A - best in class so I hope you enjoy it. Some of ya'll have seen this before.

Here goes - it is kind of long.

Anyone who owns a cat has, at one point, come home to find the mangled remains of a bird that kitty managed to have for lunch. One day I did too, and imagine that this bird had been creamed on the freeway by a speeding tour bus: the end result would be similar, but not quite as messy as the number my sister's cat had done on this one. Getting home from school I happened upon the little creation Flower left for us on the front porch. Within a ritualistic circle of feathers and guts she had decapitated the bird, left the head looking straight up at whomever would find it, and to the side had stretched out the wings and legs in a grotesque degree, as if to say she "loved us 'this' much."

Normally one might be shocked, but the sad fact is that so many animals have met equally horrendous deaths involving my family that, like the horse whisperer on a tour of the glue factory, I came out with a pretty upset worldview.

In this case though, I attributed it to Darwinism. If Flower had managed to kill it, then that was one stupid bird and it deserved to die. Why? Because this cat can be best described as a big black poof wearing a bell. It bares repeating: a bell. Whenever I step into the yard, she flattens herself in the grass, so all that I can see is a big black ball of fur, and eyes looking at me through blades of grass. Think camouflage! Then she darts to the next bit of cover, "ring, bling, ring, swish!" And then she darts to the next bit of cover, "ring, bling, ring, swish!" and then she pounces, "jingle, bling, ring, rawr! Ah! They see me, run away! Blingy, ring, jingle."

Now usually people say that when cats leave dead things for you to step in, it means they love you, or are giving you a present...but at the point where the cat goes Hannibal Lector on it's food, and rips off the head...that's not a present, that's a threat. Instead of "Ilove you" it's more like "this could be you, I know where you sleep." My best guess is she is tired of my little brother stepping on her tail, or still bitter that we stole her kittens and gave them away. Especially when she still doesn't know who her babies' daddy is.

That's another thing about Flower, not only is she apparently evil, but she's also a whore. Before we had time to spay her, she was out wandering the neighborhood and got knocked up. She was a teen mother of a broken home. Of course I got in trouble when, talking to my dad, I referred to her as "the skank". My ten year old sister overheard and wanted to know what it meant...and it means bad kitty if she should ask. Flower didn't take it hard though, and in fact for some reason I became the surrogate father to the little bastards. She so thoughtfully chose the dirty clothes underneath my bed as a nest to keep the kittens....Kittens that like to meow as loud as they can in the middle of the night. She put them there because that was the only place she could keep them out of the hands of my brother and sister who spent hours trying to squeeze under the bed, faces pressed against the side, reaching as far as they could to get one of the meowing fuzzy bundles of fun. And whenever she would get hungry, or go out and search for her babies' daddy, she would carry them one by one to the top of my bed so that I could babysit while she was gone....Thanks kitty, let me put down my calculus so I can keep kittens from tumbling off my bed to their death while I beat my siblings away from them with a stick.

It turns out though, that it was my dad who actually killed the bird. That makes more sense too, because he wasn't wearing a bell AND has a BB gun. Lucky for me, I can go to college because in his midlife crisis, instead of buying a corvette, he chose a more economical instrument of death, the BB gun. The logic behind this purpose was "the damn pigeons" keep nesting over the porch and installing chicken wire just isn't fun enough. What apparently was fun was buying about one hundred forked spikes to glue down on top of the pillars holding up the roof of the porch which was where the pigeons lived. Apparently, the idea was for the pigeons to fly into them at full speed and skewer themselves. Instead, the pigeons merely flew over the spikes and enjoyed a new fortified nest. Birds, one. Dad, zero.

Aside from the pigeons, there are also large black birds called grackles that steal the dog's food, and apparently carry mystery bird diseases that can kill us all. Therefore the best solution is to pump those bastards full of lead! So far, the pigeons are gone but since Dad has taken to baiting the grackles by putting the food in plain sight, there are actually more birds than there were originally. So it stands to reason that we are all therefore much closer to dieing of exotic bird diseases. Birds, two. Dad, zero.

Not only does dad enjoy mercilessly killing the bird menace, he's discovered an even greater joy in the telling of his killings.

"There was this huge one, right? And it was sitting on the fence, and I thought, maybe there are houses behind it in the line of fire, or maybe not...but I'm taking this shot! And I shot it and you could tell it was like 'What the hell?!' and it starts to fly off, but then it's like 'uhoh...not feeling so good...' and then it took a nose dive into your mother's ferns...and I think I saw the cat run off with it a little while later." So dad fearlessly maintains his post when he's outside; reading the newspaper, drinking beer, he always has his faithful Red Rider within arm's reach. In fact, after he's done with the newspaper, and a substantial amount of beer, he's still clinging tightly to it while passed out and snoring...which I think is a bit unhealthy...but we've learned not to discuss these things.

Sunday, August 30, 2009

Beeswax Collage Class



Dear Diary,

These are two pieces I made Saturday in Mike and Leslie's Beeswax Silhouette Class. It was a lot of fun! I was excited to finally meet Leslie. Mike talks about her all the time so it was great to get to meet her. She has a precious personality and laughs allot so it made class fun.

I especially enjoyed this class because:

#1 It was at Mystic Paper
#2 Mike showed us some new techniques
#3 He brought so many wonderful silhouettes for us to chose from
#4 We completed 3 projects
#5 There was a good mix of people there
#6 I won the $65.00 gift card drawing!

I had planned to give these as Christmas presents but I don't think I can part with them!

Forbidden Love



Dear Diary,

This is the finished project I made in the Artful messages class at Art Unraveled. It was a great class. One of my favorites. Our teacher was just delightful! The class was taught by Olivia Thomas. She is from the Phoenix area. I deviated from her supplies and instead of using felt for the back, I painted a doily I purchased at Merchant's Square. I loved painting and stamping the fabric. We started with a plain muslin piece of fabric and la-de-da-ed it up with different colors of paint and then used black and white as an accent color for stamps.

I call this piece Forbidden Love. I have had forbidden love on my mind lately. My alma mater used to be an all girls college but twenty years ago they started letting "smart men" attend (Court Order). The current president of the university has been rallying for a name change. She and a panel decided on two possible new names for the University. She unveiled these names August 10. Neither of them include "for Women". Most of the Alumni have been up in arms about the idea of a name change. This topic has monopolized the letters to the editor for a long time.

When I attended, it was just girls. I had heard and read about that form of forbidden love but thought that kind of stuff just happened in places like California (Not that there is anything wrong with it). There were several different types of "desire" running rampant on that campus. It was the 70's. Most of us did desire to get a quality education but also wanted to find our heart's desire whether it be the P.E. major down the hall, Our good looking English Professor, a lieutenant from the Air Force Base or a future alcoholic wife beater from the local bar. I don't know where I am going with this except to say that when I saw the picture of the two women, the idea for this all came together in my head. I especially like the back made from the doily. It has a rose embroidered on it. Shakespeare's quote about the rose will be added to the back as soon as I can get a toner copy of it to transfer to muslin. I thought that would be the perfect quote for all of this hoopla about the name change. What is in a name? It will still be my former university even if the name is changed. I'll have the same fuzzy memories and quality education as before but the name of the university on my diploma will be obsolete.

Buffalo Chip Cookies


Dear Diary,

I finally finished another page of the cookbook! Patty's classes are really helping me get my act together on this project. She has some great ideas and wonderful examples she brings to class. Plus at the first class she gave us this beautiful book and has been giving us pages to add to it every class. The last one was about making the prettiest little lace flowers. I can put those on my Monkeys and Dolls too! One piece of advise she gave me was to know what book form the recipes will be in before I start. I wish I had listened. I bought a scrap book at Tuesday Morning. Last class, Patty showed me how I could put them in the book with out losing some of the page. I worked on this yesterday. It worked but the scrap book I bought doesn't lay right. I'm not worried. Patty will help me figure something out! I really enjoy being in her Heritage scrap booking Class at Mystic Paper and suffer terrible Patty withdrawals when we don't meet regularly.

Ian and I made about 300 of these cookies when he was in sixth grade for his Worlds Fair project. He wanted me to make Mongolian beef but I wasn't sure if that dish originated there and anyway - everybody likes cookies!

Saturday, August 22, 2009

Sea Monkey Mermaid


Dear Diary,

Every year, my father took my sisters and me to the Lowndes County Fair in Columbus, Mississippi. Before we could ride any of the carnival rides, it was a family tradition to go through the home economics building and look at every jam, jelly, and preserve, and all sorts of hobby, craft, or sewing project that the local 4-H or ladies’ clubs had made. We tried to hurry daddy through most of the exhibits but we always stopped reverently and stared longingly and in awe of this sock monkey. My sisters and I coveted that monkey!

Another thing we did every single year at the fair was throw horrible fits, drag our feet in the county fair dust, squall, whine, and complain about what we didn't get to do when Daddy said time to go. My poor Daddy, I don't know why he continued to take us year after year.

A few summers ago while on vacation, I found a sock shop that sold the red-heeled socks used for making sock monkeys. I could now have my own! There was another thing we fantasized about owning as children – Sea Monkeys. This doll is a combination of two fond childhood memories. I sent this one in to Art Doll Quarterly for a challenge and it was published - that was last summer and in the same issue as the Tree Sprite doll. I modified the tail when it came back because after looking at it again it looked like a bass tail! I gave that one to Leslie and made two more. Then I gave one of them to a friend I worked with at the elementary school . So now I have one. I want to make some more but what do you do with them? I've been buying some cool old fake pearls and old sea themed jewelery to put on them. I've got the goodies in a shoe box and every now and then I pull them out and look at them. What do ya'll do with all the Art stuff you make? Mine is starting to accumulate. If they were cats - the city would be after me.

Sunday, August 16, 2009

Plaster Crack up Class


Dear Diary,
This is another piece I made from an Art Unraveled Class I took. This class was called Crack - Up and was taught by Stephanie Lee.

It was an all day class and you know I'm not good at those. Stephanie is very personable and is a very talented artist and has a sweet husband that was there to assist her. Frankly, I was envious.

I had a hard time in this class because some of us had to share a tablespoon. I don't like to share, especially after I have paid as much as I did for this class. I would have brought my own tablespoon if it had been listed on the class supply list. My table partner didn't like to share either. In fact she hogged the spoon. The teacher finally noticed me sitting there with my arms folded and my lip out and got me a spoon from someone else and then they ran out of plaster. So, we broke for lunch. When I came back from lunch - somebody had taken my freekin spoon. I turned to my table partner and said through clinched teeth, "Somebody got my freekin spoon!" She said, "don't panic", I think she was afraid she was going to have to share her spoon.

Seriously I was about to blow. but we found my spoon - the teacher had borrowed it.

At the end of class, we had to sit in a circle in the back of the room to "share". It turned out to be a therapy session for a few of the "artists". One woman went on and on and on about her art and had a comment or tip for most every one else that shared. Being a suck up, I was sitting to the left of the teacher so I didn't get to share until last. That woman that had done so much talking got up from the circle and left, three people before my turn to share. I thought she should have been more considerate and stayed to listen to the rest of us. We had endured her art and opinions. I was not as dynamic a speaker as I usually am when it got to be my turn. I was tired and not at all inspiring. The other two canvases I worked on are still in progress to be posted at a later date.

Altered Cabinet Card

Dear Diary,

I am finally posting a picture of one of the pieces of art I made at Art Unraveled. I took this class from Sylvia Luna, aka Silver Moon. I have been wanting to take a class from her for years!

It was just fabulous! She gave us lots of stuff to take home and taught us some great techniques. I am still putting stuff on this photo! I may never finish. Sylvia said something during that class that I have to quote. She said something about the difference between a crafter and an artist was the artist (now here is where my memory fails me and this is the kicker part of the quote!) something like the artist ties it all together or makes it look finished or something like that. Anyway, It was an impressive thought and I should have written it down.

My sista Lucy says stuff all the time that I wish I would write down. She is very clever and witty. She coined the phrase "Crap Fair" instead of Craft Fair. You can always find wooden Tater boxes at crap fairs. When I taught pre-school back when Ian and Elizabeth were 4 and 5, I could make anything you could imagine out of a toilet paper roll and a paper plate. I've gotten spoiled.

Friday, August 14, 2009

This one is for you Esther!

Dear Diary,

When I was six years old, we moved from California to Birmingham , Alabama. Little did I know we had moved clear across the country. I have a few memories about the trip. I remember freaking out after I woke up late at night in the car and seeing flashing caution lights. I think we thought they were UFOs. I also remember needing to go to the bathroom and being handed a JAR! At least it was a wide mouth jar like a peanut butter jar. Enough about the trip. We moved to Alabama because my father was going to Viet Nam. (Like Forrest Gump, but we didn't know about him back then.) My Grandmother (Mamma's Momma lived in a little town called Fultondale. Uncle Pud and Aunt Betty lived next door. I can't imagine the pressure my Momma was under living with her Momma in Alabama the year Kennedy was shot in Dallas! and after living in California married with four children for 10 - 11 years.

While we lived in Alabama she had to learn to drive. She didn't know how to drive! That is one of the reasons I still suffer from motion sickness. I can't even visit an IMAX. She smoked like a chimney every time she got behind the wheel and always carried a fly swatter or a stick to switch us with if we needed it. She drove so slow people were always honking at us and flipping us off. Of course there were no seat belts back then so it was always a free for all in the backseat. Except for sista Janice. She sat in the floor board. She never got car sick and she even smoked a whole cigar when she was in grammar school but I've told you that before. Actually one time sista Janice and I went to visit Aunt Betty. She was always so fun! She gave Janice and I a cigarette. I got sick immediately but sista Janice finished hers. Too bad she didn't give us liquor, I know I could have held my own. I have always admired sista Janice's stamina, I think she got more of the tough Caledonia genes than the rest of us. She is a survivor.

One time Uncle Pud told me that he had to baby sit us while Aunt Betty and Momma went to PTA. (Where was grandmother?) (It must have been threatening a storm and she was in bed or in the basement) Uncle Pud said that sista Sarah Ann was throwing a fit. She wanted to go to PTA. He said you can't go to PTA. She said I'm going to PTA. He said he watched her blond head go down the hill then back up the hill toward the main road to the school. Then he realized that she was going to PTA - so he took out after her. He said he caught up with her before she got to the main road. He said, Come on home Sarah Ann! She said I'm going to PTA, then she picked up some rocks and started throwing them at him. Now that she is an adult and can go to PTA anytime she wants to - She probably doesn't want to go. Isn't that the way it always goes?

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

New Sock Monkey with her little Dog, Lady




Dear Diary,

I mailed these off to a friend today. I have known this beautiful friend since she was in the eighth grade. She is a friend of my sista Janice. They both turned 50 this year! Her older sister, Sharon and I have been friends since 10th grade. Sharon is the funniest, most fun, and artistic person anyone could ever want to know! Everything she says is a surprise. I hope I get to see her when I go visit my parent's in October. She has an etsy store, SHARONFOSTERART, and all kinds of stuff going on. Julia needed a Monkey for her oldest son's girlfriend. I hope she likes it. The charms are of the real dog and Adam and his girlfriend. I think Adam was wearing pull-ups last time I saw him!

Monday, August 3, 2009

Next Step


Dear Diary,

Well, I got the next step done. I tore strips of old pattern pieces and glued them on in the shape of a head. I think I'll skip the body. I wasn't thinking last night. I had temporarily forgotten how creeped out Jr. High students can get by older people. I better make this piece pretty tame and 12 to 13 year old friendly. Leslie, I'll try to Frida myself tomorrow and see how that turns out.

Sunday, August 2, 2009

Self Portrait




Dear Diary,

I've been working on my portrait piece, well the background anyway. I am having trouble committing to an image of myself. It's not like I haven't done a portrait of myself before....As you can see from all of the above - I've done Picasso, Matisse, and Munch. But I can't decide what I look like and feel like right now, so I can't begin. I can't decide. It is driving me crazy! It is like being on the feminine products aisle at the grocery store. Same feeling! They are all KOTEX but some or small, some are large, some are long, some are for thongs, some are absorbent, some are light, some even have overnight protection. They have different names and different packages but they are still Kotex to me. Well, I'm tired of being Kotex. I really want to be glamorous and mysterious. (Like a tampon). But in this heat my makeup runs and I have always told every thing I know so that is impossible.

I do know that beauty is within (since I was the guest speaker on that subject) so maybe I'll do a little play on that. Maybe I'll take that picture my sista took of me on my birthday in Savannah and then put one of those medical naked bodies on the bottom (but cover over everything that is not for children's eyes) and there where the heart is - I'll put a heart shape and where the liver is I'll put something nice, and where the kidney is I'll put something pretty etc. Well that is one idea. Maybe ya'll can give me some more!

If you can't find me tomorrow, I may be in the cemetery. Cemeterys are supposed to help with commitment problems. Maybe if I hang out in the cemetery long enough I can decide what to do!

Years ago, (about twenty) I was reading all of these relationship books. One of the chapters was how to get a man to commit to you. I'll never forget what I read on this subject and believe me I have forgotten a lot. This book said to take your lover to the cemetery. The cemetery's atmosphere would put him in a certain mood that would make him reflect on his morality I mean, his mortality. When faced with the idea of death he decides that he can not live without you and may even propose on the spot. I had a friend that's boyfriend would not commit. I gave her this advice but don't know if she acted on it. He did eventually propose, but I digress.


It is getting late and I'm making too big a deal about this. I will finish this portrait before 11:00 am tomorrow (because I'm meeting my teacher for lunch!) and I will post the finished product later!

Saturday, August 1, 2009

We've Got a little Problem Here!


Dear Diary,

I think my head is going to explode! There have been eighteen 14 -16 year olds over here since 11:30 am and they have been playing Rock Star loud for the past 2 hours - It is 6:50p.m. There are 5 left - I have given them until 7:00 pm. After that they are out of here! I'm afraid I'm going to snap. You may see this episode on the Biography Channel next season.

By the way - The above is a 12 x 12 piece that I need to finish before Monday @ 11;30 AM. I am hopefully going to teach a Jr. High after school Art class this fall in Chandler (if enough students sign up). My new friend LuLu, who creates beautiful art, taught us an artful portrait class this morning. She went over techniques we could use to teach the students. I had a good start on it this morning but about mid way through the party, I went into my little Art room and covered up what I had done. I have a whole new image of myself in my mind now. Not only do I deserve to wear a crown in my self portrait, I need to wear a cape as well. Hey Ya'll! I'm Bigger and Better than I started out this morning! I've got nerves of steel! I'm going to paint a face that any menopausal overweight 52 year old mother of teen agers could be proud of. I'm a role model!!!

Thursday, July 30, 2009

The Recipe Book is Coming Along!











Dear Diary,

I am so lucky to have taken Patty Porter's Heritage Class. I am getting personal coaching from the best artist! She is so motivating. Here, I have had this idea for five years or so and I am actually working on it. Some of the recipe pages are tags I made in Mike Putman's Class. I need to mention that I am taking this class at my favorite place - Mystic Paper!

Patty is encouraging me to make use of all these pieces I have had lying around! We learned about using Vellum last class. She made some wonderful vellum flowers - I need to borrow her flower punch. I printed one of Ian's few A essays on the vellum. His story is full of info that he pulled out of his ass. In other words - His source is fictitious but that is what makes writing fun.

I love the fold down page. That is my baby sista, Sarah Ann with the butcher knife. I still can't believe that my mother gave her a BUTCHER KNIFE to pose with! Hell, she may have even had to cut the cake for the guests. when you flip the picture up there are instructions for cutting a cake.

My Momma makes this wonderful peach upside down cake that John adores. He always wants that for his birthday cake.

When we went to Savannah I got a picture of Momma wearing that adorable zebra print shirt while eating at Paula Deen's Lady and Sons. I recalled a trip I took years ago to the San Diego Zoo. John was five so that was about 20 years ago. Sista Sarah Ann and I paused in front of the Zebras and I was mesmerized by what a large and long (how can I say this) "tool" the male Zebras had. I remember telling my sista - "I would hate to meet that zebra in a dark alley!" and then, I snapped a picture. Back then there was no telephoto on my camera.

I bought the children's silverware from my friend Judy Bidwell. It was in her antique booth at Merchant's square. Whenever I would set the table for formal functions at my Momma's, I had to consult "the book". I could never remember how to lay out that silverware!

I have a few more pages I hope to finish before our next class August 5.

Saturday, July 18, 2009

Stuart and one of my many lost chances at fame and fortune



Dear Diary,

A dear friend passed away in May. Even though I had not seen him for years he is always in my heart. I met him at Lee High School. I was a Sophomore and he was a year older than me. Stuart was tall, thin and had great hair. I loved that he liked to hang out with me. He always had fabulous ideas. He was fun, fun, fun! I thought of him as my personal Cat in the Hat. He got me in lots of scraps but somehow he would make things right before Mom got home.

Once he talked me into taking our RED 1973 Honda 50 on a joy ride. It was a beautiful fall afternoon. Stuart was driving and I was on the back hanging on for dear life. We rode it to his house (off Highway 12) while he serenaded me - singing "Teenage Runaways"! We were not wearing helmets and that highway is so narrow and winding that it is a wonder we didn't get killed. We girls (the sistas) were only allowed to ride our motorcycle in the back yard.

Stuart was very witty. One time in High School a "hood" from the Air Force Base slammed Stuarts locker closed and asked him if he was a Basie (from the Air Force Base) or a Townie (from Town). Stuart replied, "I'm a County" (He lived outside the city limits). That Basie was later convicted of murdering a local Lawyer! Stuart always claimed that his mom and dad loved his little brother the most because he had blond hair and blue eyes and Stuart had brown hair and red eyes. Once at a bar he fashioned his straw into a triangle and stuck it on his nose. He proclaimed to all in an alien type voice, "I am from the Golden Triangle Region!" (That is what the area we are from is called because the three small cities in close proximity are like the points of a triangle.)

Stuart talked me into having a "wild" party at my parents house while they were out of town. We had a fabulous time and were the perfect host and hostess and would have gotten away with it too if a genuinely good hearted classmate had not told my Mother in the Sunflower Grocery Store parking lot what a beautiful new home we had and what a lovely time he had at the party! Stuart had fun parties at his house too. He and his brother shared a Toyota named Turkey Red. One night while leaving a party, I backed into Turkey Red! I was a wreck! Stuart said, "no worries, we have insurance". A few years later I let it slip to Stuart's Dad that it was me that maimed the Turkey. He had been told an unanimous driver had hit it in the parking lot at Leigh Mall.


He was my date to Senior Prom but had to leave early because he worked the night shift at Beneke Corp. They are called Magnolia now. They make toilet seats. I got him a gorgeous boutineer. He loved it and later that evening took a bite of it. He said he read some where that some flowers were edible! He wasn't the least bit embarrassed that he forgot to get me a corsage and later that evening he presented me with a beautiful one. I asked him where he got it. He said he got it off an empty table. I don't know whose it was, but I wore it proudly that evening and still have the dead thing in a scrap book in the attic. I regret that I didn't tell him to put it back. I know it was some heart broken classmate's.

On most Saturday Nights a group of us would go to the Country Club Golf Course. Stuart had worked there and said he knew the night watchman's schedule. It was a great place to drink beer and look at the stars. There is something special about rolling around on the golf greens at night. After a few beers we would usually take a golf cart ride. I'll never forget the night I learned to fly. I remember saying, "Stuart! you are going too fast!" then I was airborne. Stuart got confused and hit the gas instead of the break. I got a nasty bruise and a temporary limp from landing on the decorative bricks that lined the drive.

I guess our most exciting adventure was a road trip to Nashville. One summer we got this harebrained idea to get jobs at Opryland. He planned to get hired as an entertainer and I had experience in retail and could count back change so I'd have no trouble getting a job in one of the gift shops. (I still can't believe my parents were okay with the idea.) I was in charge of transportation and Stuart was in charge of reservations. I picked him up at his house Friday morning in my baby blue 1972 Pinto and off we went! We made lots of detours but finally arrived in Nashville around 7:00 p.m. We had about $20.00 left between us. We stopped to get gas, call our friend we were staying with and when we couldn't reach him, cleaned up a little in the nasty gas station bathroom before we went to dinner. We decided to celebrate our new beginning by dining at a what was to us a "nice restaurant". Stuart got a little agitated when they seated us in the back by the kitchen (which had a swinging door). I asked him again about our accommodations. All day he assured me he had them taken care of, nothing to worry about. At the restaurant I asked him to please call and get directions. I was starting to get tired and we had found out at the gas station that there was a major prostitute war going on in Nashville. Prostitutes were killing each other! Frankly, I was nervous. I knew what a prostitute was but had never seen one. I was scared that I might be mistaken for one. That may sound ridiculous but at that time in my life I was naive and scared most of the time about things that could never possibly happen, happening.

Stuart came back to our table at the very back of the restaurant with no smile. He said, "Lisa, I can't get a hold of David." I said, "He knows we are coming, right?" I'll never forget what Stuart said next. "I thought we'd surprise him!" We had just spent the last of our money on our celebratory dinner and had just a few dollars between us. We needed a new plan. One of our friends lived in Memphis! She and her husband would probably love to see us! I called Elizabeth. She and her husband were thrilled to let us stay the night but, they were going to Mississippi Saturday morning so we'd have to leave then too. We made it to Memphis but I did fall asleep at the wheel and woke up on a bridge but luckily in the right lane. I've often thought about that and wondered how far I drove while sleeping and also about the great schematics of life.

What if David Stampley had been home and expecting us that night? What if we actually did get summer jobs at Opryland? What if we were discovered by a famous Hollywood agent and the rest of our lives were magical like Sandra Bullock's or Nathan Lane's? and What if we had not spent all our money on the way to Tennessee and had been able to get a hotel room that night? What if some prostitute saw me entering the seedy affordable motel room with Stuart and shot me thinking I was an encroaching prostitute? What if I had not woken up while driving on that bridge.

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Little Sista's Panties on our Heads!



Dear Diary,

I finally did it and it was so much fun! I have talked about it for years and claimed that I have done it but never actually did until the other night. My older sista, Lucy and I were staying at baby sista's house while she was away - and WE PUT HER PANTIES ON OUR HEADS! It was a rush! I danced around in the kitchen with those panties on my head a little too! (Luckily that wasn't caught on camera). Lucy wore Sarah Ann's panties sort of like a beret. I chose to loop her panties around my ears and wear them like a helmet and Daisy preferred the bandanna look. A good time was had by all! Sarah Ann won't you be surprised to see this post!

New Monkeys


Dear Diary,

Here is a bad shot of some new monkeys I have made. I made three with hair and the last two with no hair. I can't decide which ones I like best.

Soldering in San Diego


Dear Diary,

I wanted to stay in San Diego until October but couldn't. I left here Sunday and came back yesterday. San Diego is such a beautiful place. I met my older sista Lucy over there and we stayed at sista Sarah Ann's house. The accommodations were lovely. It took us two days to make the above charms because we suffered from blurred vision the first afternoon/evening on account of all the cocktails we drank. My nephew introduced me to smoked oysters on cream cheese on a cracker - tasty!

Saturday, June 27, 2009

Patty Porter's Heritage Class at Mystic Paper



Dear Diary,

I went to a fabulous class taught by my wonderful friend Patty Porter!
She is one of the designer's for Mystic Paper. I have been dying to take one of her classes. That was one of the nicest classes I have ever attended there. She made us the most beautiful books that were filled with great information and cool illustrations. She had chocolate, chips, and bottled water for us, and she gave us these cool mechanical pencils. One of my favorite parts of the class was looking through the books she has put together. They were just beautiful. I am having trouble describing them. I was overwhelmed by the love and time that went into her Heritage Projects.

I am so excited because she is going to have follow up classes and coach us with our projects! A couple of years ago, I got the idea to make a family cookbook. The pages up top are 2 out of 5 pages I have completed and only one of the five has a recipe. Boy do I need help. All afternoon I have been going through boxes and tubs and my craft closet trying to get it all together. Two more weeks till our next class! I'll keep you posted on my progress!

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Good Advise


Dear Diary,

After seeing this picture of sista Janice with her daughter, I recalled a piece of advice I received as a teen ager and was inspired to make her this card.


While I was pondering earlier about advise - taking and giving, I was reminded of some wonderful advice my dear Uncle Pud gave me when I was a teenager.

I was telling him that I wanted a monkey for a pet. Not a spider monkey but actually a chimpanzee so that I could take it on walks and hold his little hand and I could dress him up in cute clothes and teach it to ride a red tricycle with a bell on it. After hearing this, I got the only advice Uncle Pud ever gave me. He said, "You don't want a monkey, they'll shit in their hand and throw it at you!" I never did get a monkey but I have repeated his fabulous advise often. Some listen and some don't.

Psychology sucks too!

https://healthsciencetechnology.wikispaces.com/file/view/the%2520psychologist.jpg



Dear Diary,

I don't know much about Psychology except that I like the idea of it I just don't want to study it. I don't mind being analyzed as long as the analyzer says something about me that is flattering. One of my special talents is giving advise and analyzing others. My children have heard and heeded my advise for years. Some of my regular good advise is Brush your teeth! Wash your face! Make sure your battery is charged on your phone! Drink plenty of water! Other favorites are "Well, I wouldn't want to be their friend anyway!" "Hickeys are trashy!" "Girls don't like boys with B.O."

It's the book learning part of Psychology that sucks. I had my mid term exam in Educational Psychology today. There was so much material I had to know for this exam. Too much about cognition and morality. Hey, I'm inspired. Think I'll go create something immoral!

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Fabulous Vacation








Dear Diary,

We are back from our fabulous vacation. I am still sweating grease. You would not believe all the "All you can Eat" fried food I ate on my 2009 summer vacation! We flew in to New Orleans, spent the night and drove to Fort Walton Beach, Florida. The beach and water were beautiful! But, there were no shells to be found. But thats all right. We stayed at the Waterscape. It was huge and tall and had a lazy river. There were alot of families there with crying babies and young overtired children.

Next, we drove up to Aberdeen, Mississippi. We stayed a few days with my parents. One of Ian's friends came with us. We stopped and bought fireworks before we got there so the boys bought 100's of bottle rockets. I was afraid someone was going to return home with a hook arm. Boom, Boom, Boom, was all we heard for two days. They were modifying them and getting more dangerously creative with each explosion and that was under adult supervision!

We went to New Orleans again after we left Mississippi. Frank and I managed to get to go alone to our favorite restaurant. I didn't actually go hunting for Orbs but I did photograph one there at the restaurant. I took John and Elizabeth to the Garden District. We had a good time walking around and looking. It was just beautiful.

For the first time, we stayed in the Warehouse District. The kids and I stumbled into a bar/restaurant for lunch there that had frighteningly large amounts of local color. On a positive note, their mac and cheese was better than Paula Deen's. Frank took Ian and Toan to the WWII museum. It is new and air conditioned. They enjoyed it.

In the past we have spent most of our time in the French Quarter. My husband loves Bourbon Street. He doesn't mind the stench of stale beer and vomit. It just adds to the charm.

It is good to be home.