With snow falling yesterday in Louisiana and Missippi, I thought it appropriate to commemorate the event by starting on the project I had already planned as my Christmas project this year.
This is the two-piece version. There is also a one piece, looks very similar.
Frugal Queen is moving
8 years ago
Friday, December 12, 2008
Snowfall
With snow falling yesterday in Louisiana and Missippi, I thought it appropriate to commemorate the event by starting on the project I had already planned as my Christmas project this year.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
dark
I find these days of early dark and late lightening difficult to deal with.
Here in the sunny south, we are just not used to it.
However, the celestial show right now is amazing.
And I like when the light first starts to come up in the mornings. There is a blue to it that makes me think of snow covered fields.
Here in the sunny south, we are just not used to it.
However, the celestial show right now is amazing.
And I like when the light first starts to come up in the mornings. There is a blue to it that makes me think of snow covered fields.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
recycling
Sometimes recycling can be a real pain.
I have a these cute little jars that bruschetta came in and I want to use them for pumpkin butter for Christmas presents. Yes, I know the pb needs to be kept in the friggy.
But the labels are stuck on with some sort of monster glue. I have washed them, boiled them (not energy efficient except that the weather is cold and the boiling adds to the heat in the house. Finally I'm resorting to scrubbing them off with ajax.
Grrrr. I'd give up, except stubborness has set in.
I have a these cute little jars that bruschetta came in and I want to use them for pumpkin butter for Christmas presents. Yes, I know the pb needs to be kept in the friggy.
But the labels are stuck on with some sort of monster glue. I have washed them, boiled them (not energy efficient except that the weather is cold and the boiling adds to the heat in the house. Finally I'm resorting to scrubbing them off with ajax.
Grrrr. I'd give up, except stubborness has set in.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Friday, November 21, 2008
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
New Air
I think, just possibly, I might be able to believe in God again.
I couldn't understand how she/he could possibly permit someone like Bush to run this country.
But now, I think, God put the right person in the right place and it was the right time.
Kudos to all the 20 somethings who got involved in the political process.
Kudos to Obama, who will have the hardest road ahead of him. Not because he is black, but because there are SO many, major, extremely big problems.
I couldn't understand how she/he could possibly permit someone like Bush to run this country.
But now, I think, God put the right person in the right place and it was the right time.
Kudos to all the 20 somethings who got involved in the political process.
Kudos to Obama, who will have the hardest road ahead of him. Not because he is black, but because there are SO many, major, extremely big problems.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Uncle Neville
My Uncle Neville, my father's brother.
He currently lives in Virginia Beach with his wife Betty. They had two children- Neville and Mark. And there is a granddaughter who flies helicopters and is currently stationed at Fort Knox.
If you ever want to meet him, they go back to Kentucky for a reunion in October of every year. It is a big republican, right wing discussion every time and although I would have liked to go this year, I couldn't stand the politics. The men go in one room and talk about world affairs and the women sit in the other and talk about curtains and babies.
How did I get to be the only (and lonely) liberal in my family?
Saturday, November 1, 2008
There are Still Knights
There are still nights when oceans blend.
There are still nights which kiss beauty.
There are still nights where rain airs radiance.
In our unfolded hands a diamond resolves.
There are still knights.
There are still nights which kiss beauty.
There are still nights where rain airs radiance.
In our unfolded hands a diamond resolves.
There are still knights.
Cat patient
Bubba sits neatly and waits. Slim black tail curled properly around the immaculate white feet.
Large jade eyes turn, the head painted with harlequin colors follows me around the kitchen.
She didn't like the white wild cold stuff outside, explored it somehow without wetting one paw. And now she sits on the counter beaming subliminal messages to me.
"Eat. Eat." I think, I've had breakfast! And, then , those glowing translucent eyes catch me. Ah. It is not my hunger.
Large jade eyes turn, the head painted with harlequin colors follows me around the kitchen.
She didn't like the white wild cold stuff outside, explored it somehow without wetting one paw. And now she sits on the counter beaming subliminal messages to me.
"Eat. Eat." I think, I've had breakfast! And, then , those glowing translucent eyes catch me. Ah. It is not my hunger.
Flicker
Movies have flickered in and out of my life.
Filmed before I was, black and white shadows of the 40's illuminate my parent's romance, blaze of The War. "I saw....", "It was sure swell." "On the carrier tonight they showed "Stars Over the Pacific."
Even though they were not my theaters, their story lines not my own, they shaped me as surely as if I acted in them. Perhaps I did. Played in my mother's conception of what "should" be. My father's blind sailor washed idealism.
"How now brown cow." It was a trailer for Snow White. I don't remember watching Snow White with my father at the drive in while my mother was hospitalized. Don't remember, consciously, her illness.
But the boy who couldn't speak, he was sent to a special school. There he eventually delighted his proud parents with the simple rhyme that still conjures up the cartoon for me. "How now brown cow?" Indeed.
Movies mark stages. Ben Hur at the Starlight Drive Inn. In the backseat with my parents up front. Moses lifted the tablets and fog obliterated the light. No smoking mountain, but some revenge perhaps on the growing sins of early adolescence.
Dr. Zhivago with a group. With me, a boy who wanted to hold my hand in the tinkling balalaika music. But he had no money to spend on me. I needed someone to spend money on me. To make me feel like I was worth something.
Romeo and Juliet. Shakespeare's yummy words, Zeffirelli's equally poetic sets. Another drive in. Another boy, much older. I was way too young for him and he took me out as one would take out a younger sister. Half bored, half condescending. Some amused. But he was willing to spend a little money, perhaps sensing my need to feel "normal" for once.
Vampire movies at the Prytania at Morehead. I didn't love them, but my roommate did. They were cheap enough at a dollar for me to afford. And it was fun to wear a huge tin cross picked up somewhere at a bargain price and watch reactions.
A dollar a movie. A two stick theatre. One to prop the seat up with and one to beat the rats off with. It was a theatre dimly lit for good reason.
Art films, foreign films with subtitles. Married now, with some money thanks to a husband with a thing for leggy big breasted girls, I could afford the alternate theatre on the Prytania. Rosario and I accidentally ended up at a male porn film one night and giggled our way through the medical checkups and weird photography.
Star Wars was a revelation seen with my husband in a theatre in California. California was a revelation as well. Epic, immense, science fiction immortalized.
Back in the South. Child years. Children and Disney. Animation. Candy, gum, demands, sticky fingers, tears. A cuddle and a sleep head warm and sweaty. A lap full of child that I long for again with a passion unmatched by any other. The movies irritating, tacky, or somewhat interesting. The theaters becoming bombastic, iconic, expensive.
The latest. End of the world scenarios. Various variations on horror, crime, violence, blood, some humor. The venue? Plush, pseudo quilts, cutsie track lighting in plastic tubing reminding me of Christmas tree lights. A cup holder for an outsize drink. Reminders to turn off all electronic devices. A seat that would be comfortable if I could sit still, if my bones didn't ache, if I didn't know that when I stood up I would be too stiff to move quickly. The result of too much damage.
Movies. Theatres. The RKO Albee in Cincinnati, Pike 27. All the unremembered seats and places inbetween.
Bread and Circuses. The distraction of a distraught age.
Filmed before I was, black and white shadows of the 40's illuminate my parent's romance, blaze of The War. "I saw....", "It was sure swell." "On the carrier tonight they showed "Stars Over the Pacific."
Even though they were not my theaters, their story lines not my own, they shaped me as surely as if I acted in them. Perhaps I did. Played in my mother's conception of what "should" be. My father's blind sailor washed idealism.
"How now brown cow." It was a trailer for Snow White. I don't remember watching Snow White with my father at the drive in while my mother was hospitalized. Don't remember, consciously, her illness.
But the boy who couldn't speak, he was sent to a special school. There he eventually delighted his proud parents with the simple rhyme that still conjures up the cartoon for me. "How now brown cow?" Indeed.
Movies mark stages. Ben Hur at the Starlight Drive Inn. In the backseat with my parents up front. Moses lifted the tablets and fog obliterated the light. No smoking mountain, but some revenge perhaps on the growing sins of early adolescence.
Dr. Zhivago with a group. With me, a boy who wanted to hold my hand in the tinkling balalaika music. But he had no money to spend on me. I needed someone to spend money on me. To make me feel like I was worth something.
Romeo and Juliet. Shakespeare's yummy words, Zeffirelli's equally poetic sets. Another drive in. Another boy, much older. I was way too young for him and he took me out as one would take out a younger sister. Half bored, half condescending. Some amused. But he was willing to spend a little money, perhaps sensing my need to feel "normal" for once.
Vampire movies at the Prytania at Morehead. I didn't love them, but my roommate did. They were cheap enough at a dollar for me to afford. And it was fun to wear a huge tin cross picked up somewhere at a bargain price and watch reactions.
A dollar a movie. A two stick theatre. One to prop the seat up with and one to beat the rats off with. It was a theatre dimly lit for good reason.
Art films, foreign films with subtitles. Married now, with some money thanks to a husband with a thing for leggy big breasted girls, I could afford the alternate theatre on the Prytania. Rosario and I accidentally ended up at a male porn film one night and giggled our way through the medical checkups and weird photography.
Star Wars was a revelation seen with my husband in a theatre in California. California was a revelation as well. Epic, immense, science fiction immortalized.
Back in the South. Child years. Children and Disney. Animation. Candy, gum, demands, sticky fingers, tears. A cuddle and a sleep head warm and sweaty. A lap full of child that I long for again with a passion unmatched by any other. The movies irritating, tacky, or somewhat interesting. The theaters becoming bombastic, iconic, expensive.
The latest. End of the world scenarios. Various variations on horror, crime, violence, blood, some humor. The venue? Plush, pseudo quilts, cutsie track lighting in plastic tubing reminding me of Christmas tree lights. A cup holder for an outsize drink. Reminders to turn off all electronic devices. A seat that would be comfortable if I could sit still, if my bones didn't ache, if I didn't know that when I stood up I would be too stiff to move quickly. The result of too much damage.
Movies. Theatres. The RKO Albee in Cincinnati, Pike 27. All the unremembered seats and places inbetween.
Bread and Circuses. The distraction of a distraught age.
hands
Her hand had been well-tended, was slender, beautiful in age with its careful veins arching gracefully over the standing tendons. Diamonds hung loosely in the worn metal of their settings. They drifted around the slimness of her fingers in circles of endearment that young lovers could not possibly know.
His fingers were softened with age, but they were still squared with his ambition, still strong enough to clasp a mistress. Still greedy enough to ruin other men's reputations, ruin lives with no more thought than they would swat a mosquito. Perhaps less.
His fingers were softened with age, but they were still squared with his ambition, still strong enough to clasp a mistress. Still greedy enough to ruin other men's reputations, ruin lives with no more thought than they would swat a mosquito. Perhaps less.
Well Fair Disabled
It is not quite light.
In the dusk of the wire fence pairs of eyes patrol. Wary heads turn at human sounds, but mutter their own low tongued conversations.
She thinks she has been feeding the feral black and white cat that lives in the culvert, looses her litter to high water every spring when the rain turns heavy. But the coyotes know differently.
She sits heavy in the 70's kitchen chair, its orange plastic bruised and rubbed, cracked and mended with the silver of duct tape. Rust lines her hands when she uses the metal as a lever to stand. Her back bone is fractured with hairline cracks that medication and a food stamp diet have added to her weight.
Blue eyes seem to reflect sparks from the fence, as a train crosses the boggy land at the other side of the pasture. The expected rumble disturbs neither the cat hunting coyotes nor the blue eyes hunting ease.
She sits and watches as though the land were the television she will turn on when she returns inside. On her lap sits a pan of greasy yellow macaroni topped with buttery fake cheese. A clear plastic fork lifts and falls with an intense uniformity that the coyotes and the cat envy.
"It's the Ambien," she says. "It makes me eat."
In early summer the smells are still sweet. Honeysuckle fragrance drifts and the partially blocked sewage system is not yet blooming in the summer heat to come.
"It's all the fault of the liberal bastards." she says. "Them that kills unborn babies and commit same sex adultery."
Her church reassures her. No matter what happens. It isn't her fault.
In the dusk of the wire fence pairs of eyes patrol. Wary heads turn at human sounds, but mutter their own low tongued conversations.
She thinks she has been feeding the feral black and white cat that lives in the culvert, looses her litter to high water every spring when the rain turns heavy. But the coyotes know differently.
She sits heavy in the 70's kitchen chair, its orange plastic bruised and rubbed, cracked and mended with the silver of duct tape. Rust lines her hands when she uses the metal as a lever to stand. Her back bone is fractured with hairline cracks that medication and a food stamp diet have added to her weight.
Blue eyes seem to reflect sparks from the fence, as a train crosses the boggy land at the other side of the pasture. The expected rumble disturbs neither the cat hunting coyotes nor the blue eyes hunting ease.
She sits and watches as though the land were the television she will turn on when she returns inside. On her lap sits a pan of greasy yellow macaroni topped with buttery fake cheese. A clear plastic fork lifts and falls with an intense uniformity that the coyotes and the cat envy.
"It's the Ambien," she says. "It makes me eat."
In early summer the smells are still sweet. Honeysuckle fragrance drifts and the partially blocked sewage system is not yet blooming in the summer heat to come.
"It's all the fault of the liberal bastards." she says. "Them that kills unborn babies and commit same sex adultery."
Her church reassures her. No matter what happens. It isn't her fault.
Out
Two days of dancing ice.
I locked in the South with a glacial blue norther.
I Had to dig out, find my white car
Under its pale freeze of cloud born powder.
I had to drive with the snow sun
And glare dancing like desert diamonds,
Drive over black ice blue
Under tree thin shadows of polished ebony.
I Had to get out under the white sky skin,
The twig capillaries flattened budding sprigs.
Get to where no liquid ran
And Spring was a lonely lament
Unheard, unseen.
I locked in the South with a glacial blue norther.
I Had to dig out, find my white car
Under its pale freeze of cloud born powder.
I had to drive with the snow sun
And glare dancing like desert diamonds,
Drive over black ice blue
Under tree thin shadows of polished ebony.
I Had to get out under the white sky skin,
The twig capillaries flattened budding sprigs.
Get to where no liquid ran
And Spring was a lonely lament
Unheard, unseen.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
My son's BD is today.
He is grown now and a continent away and does not communicate nearly as much as I would like.
I miss him. Pure and simple.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Friday, October 17, 2008
Clayton B. Moore,etc.
I get the feeling that my dad, Leon, might have been a bit of a "wild child". Here he is in the middle looking a bit like a shaggy pony.
Also, something about the full head of hair, the shape of the face and the stance, reminds me of Greg.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Last Days of Pompeii 1980
Isn't this a lovely image? It is the frontis for Last Days of Pompeii published around 1890.
You know, how do books survive so long? They outlive owners, moves, water and insect damage.
Somewhere once Mr. Craig McFaddens owned this. Long gone Mr. McFaddens, yet here his signature and his book remain.
"Heaven had given to Glaucus every blessing but one - it had given him beauty, health, fortune, genius, illustrious descent, a heart of fire, a mind of poetry; but it had denied him the heritage of freedom."
http://www.google.com/base/a/4571708/D7304807738038074778
Monday, September 1, 2008
The Cricket in Times Square
This is a book that my children enjoyed. (so did I) This 1988 dell yearling edition is in near new condition. The spine is not even cracked. I am selling it on Google Products for $1.00 plus $3.99 shipping and handling. http://www.google.com/base/a/4571708/D5324442612368458314
The cover is still so shiny, I had trouble getting a photo as the flash kept glaring off the surface.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
gift project
Here is the beginning of a gift I am working on. It is from this book, which I picked up at the library sale two weeks ago. I'm using two yarns - a red cotton with a silver metallic thread running through it and a homespun singles wool. It is much sparklier than in the photo.There are disadvantages to using such a lively singles. It has a lot of energy and I keep having to untangle it. However, that makes the repeating stitch more interesting, even if it does slow me down.
See the little bit of white fluff at the top? That is a bit of angora fur that managed to sneak in somehow. Gotta love those bunnies.
The rain was wonderful this morning. I sat out on the back porch crocheting and listening for a half hour. A dove was cooing, the rain was misting down steady and sweet, running into the rain barrel and plunking off the porch roof into a plastic bucket. We have been in drought for so long, I feel as thirsty for the sight and sounds of rain as the plants must.
Tornados and Fay
Woke before the sun this morning. Guess I was slept out. Last night went to bed early, even missed Hillary's speech. I'm sure I was fatigued due to all the tornado excitement of yesterday. Buddy, Kamath and I hid out in the downstairs bathroom for half an hour as the local weather was broadcasting to "take cover".
A tornado actually touched down in Clemson. As far as I know, no one was hurt, but a lot of trees were downed and it did some damage to an athletic field and knocked a lot of power out. I hear there are trees down again this morning. Many of the trees around here are weakened by the years of drought and when the soil gets soft, they just can't take it anymore.
The rain barrel worked well, although we just kept the valve open and let the rain run out into the garden via the hose. Today I will close the valve and maybe we will get enough rain this morning to save up another barrel.
Scary afternoon, but on the up side we did get lots of much needed rain. Perhaps that will take us out of the extreme drought category. Hope, hope.
I feel for everyone who has suffered so much damage and flooding due to Fay. But the silver lining in these clouds, for us anyway, was some critical rain.
A tornado actually touched down in Clemson. As far as I know, no one was hurt, but a lot of trees were downed and it did some damage to an athletic field and knocked a lot of power out. I hear there are trees down again this morning. Many of the trees around here are weakened by the years of drought and when the soil gets soft, they just can't take it anymore.
The rain barrel worked well, although we just kept the valve open and let the rain run out into the garden via the hose. Today I will close the valve and maybe we will get enough rain this morning to save up another barrel.
Scary afternoon, but on the up side we did get lots of much needed rain. Perhaps that will take us out of the extreme drought category. Hope, hope.
I feel for everyone who has suffered so much damage and flooding due to Fay. But the silver lining in these clouds, for us anyway, was some critical rain.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Monday, August 25, 2008
Friday, August 22, 2008
Christmas Apple
To discourage squirrel and birds, I hit upon the plan of draping the apple tree with yarn. Seems to work as squirrels are afraid of snakes. Ha!
Well, this morning Bubba jumped up on the Butcher Block for breakfast and broke a coffee cup of mine. It had a loon on it and said Minnesota. I was contemplating giving it to Melissa since her son is going to be moving there. Wonder if there is some karmic lesson in that?
It was windy out this morning so it had the illusion of being cooler anyway. The air was fresher than it has been for a month or so, so I opened a window upstairs and turned on the attic fan to pull some of the fresh stuff from the coast in. Thanks to Fay. Although we could really use rain, hope, hope. It reminded me of that morning I woke up in Carmel when I was with Greg and Cristin and Sarah Grace. Same feel. Different smell, tho.
I persuaded Brian to help me "yarn" the apple tree. It does seem to be keeping the squirrels away. Looks a bit Christmassey, I think what with the green balls of the apples. Maybe the origin of Christmas trees....not.
Found a good sized green pepper in the garden along with the usual tomatoes and okra. Think I will make kasha for dinner. With an Indian okra side dish.
Have enjoyed being able to electronically chat with Cristin this morning. Wonderful technology, to enable that. Got a facebook friend invite from a friend who used to live up the street, but has moved to Ohio. Miss her being around although I don't correspond with her as much as I should. Just get in a rut of housework and gardening.
Well, onward and upward. The dehydrator needs attention. Maybe I'll finish that mitten today.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Thurs, August 21, 2008
Well, it looks as though Fay is going to give us a miss. This morning in the garden was nicer than usual due to a little cloud/fog cover and a breeze. Thanks Fay. Now for some rain. Hint, hint.
Tomatoes are still producing nicely. Think I will crank up the dehydrator again today. Apples juicy and still green and tart the way I like them. Brian is waiting for them to get more goldeny delicious.
Okra is doing what okra does. Keeping up a steady production as long as I keep it picked. Finally, finally there are some peppers. Had an egg with okra and peppers for bkfst this morning.
Saw the wild brown bunny in the garden yesterday and B saw him/her near the magnolia. Think that must be the hidey hole as I have seen Wild Bun run in under the low branches there myself.
Working on my second knitted angora mitten. When I get both finished I will post a picture on my blog. They should be good and warm for someone this winter.
Am sick of my own cooking these days. Maybe we will go out tonight, or I will just fix steak and some boxed scalloped potatoes.
Got a letter from Melissa yesterday. She sounds very sad. Is having trouble with her teeth - implants falling out. Can't think why they don't just pull her remaining molars and give her bridges. She has had trouble with her teeth for years.
Well, the sun in shinning. I'm going to spin up what I brushed from Pinky (formerly Angel) and then cut up tomatoes and apples for the dehydrator. After that it is clean kitchen and do laundry.
I have been avoiding the garage, hoping that if any yellow jackets were alive after being stomped inside B's shirt they would die or find their way out.
But since complaints have been made about a lack of underthings, I must enter the (possibly) danger zone today.
Oh, the hazards of keeping a house and garden! LOL
Make it a good day.
Tomatoes are still producing nicely. Think I will crank up the dehydrator again today. Apples juicy and still green and tart the way I like them. Brian is waiting for them to get more goldeny delicious.
Okra is doing what okra does. Keeping up a steady production as long as I keep it picked. Finally, finally there are some peppers. Had an egg with okra and peppers for bkfst this morning.
Saw the wild brown bunny in the garden yesterday and B saw him/her near the magnolia. Think that must be the hidey hole as I have seen Wild Bun run in under the low branches there myself.
Working on my second knitted angora mitten. When I get both finished I will post a picture on my blog. They should be good and warm for someone this winter.
Am sick of my own cooking these days. Maybe we will go out tonight, or I will just fix steak and some boxed scalloped potatoes.
Got a letter from Melissa yesterday. She sounds very sad. Is having trouble with her teeth - implants falling out. Can't think why they don't just pull her remaining molars and give her bridges. She has had trouble with her teeth for years.
Well, the sun in shinning. I'm going to spin up what I brushed from Pinky (formerly Angel) and then cut up tomatoes and apples for the dehydrator. After that it is clean kitchen and do laundry.
I have been avoiding the garage, hoping that if any yellow jackets were alive after being stomped inside B's shirt they would die or find their way out.
But since complaints have been made about a lack of underthings, I must enter the (possibly) danger zone today.
Oh, the hazards of keeping a house and garden! LOL
Make it a good day.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
young buns
It is hard to take pictures of bunnies, as they sense you want them to stand still. Being the personality plus beings they are, they see the camera and think, "oh, move quick, she might capture our soul."Today I am tired from not sleeping well and getting up very early. As in while it was still black early. But I can't seem to nap, so will trog, I mean, blog on.
Have gotten things accomplished in the last 2 days, although it doesn't feel like it. Dug the lavender plants i bought in by the drive before the rain and planted asiatic lillies while it was raining. I know it is the wrong month to plant bulbs, but since these are left over from spring, I figured I'd take my chances in the ground rather than drying out in the bags.
I should have taken a pic of the bulb bags spread out all around my computer chair as I pondered what to plant when and what to give whom. But it was a bit overwhelming and I have cleaned them up.
B said there were spiders in his motel room last night and a fridge that churped like a cricket. I bet he didn't get much more sleep than I did.
Managed to get two shelves of tomatoes in the dryer and one of apples. I think they multiply in the kitchen overnight. Maybe that is why I was having trouble with sleep. Too much multiplying. LOL.
Got enough field peas for a mess for dinner, not that I haven't been eating bits for a while. Got a handful of okra too. It is like tomatoes. Once it starts producing, you had better keep up with it. The green beans are on pause because of the heat last week, but if it stays this cool, I'm sure they will start up again.
The seeds I planted in the tray thingy are already up and enjoying the light on the front porch. I have others to thin and transplant. Never ends, this trying to grow your own food.
I am really grateful for yesterday's rain. There is a slim chance of a thunderstorm this afternoon. May that slim chance grow fat with water and thunder and park itself directly over my house.
There is some water in the rain barrel from yesterday and I will release that to the garden tomorrow if we don't get rain today.
Life goes on whether I am sleepy or not.
Friday, August 8, 2008
8/8/08
Nearing the end of sunflower summer. I won't miss the heat, at least for a while, but I'm always sad when the fresh tomatoes run out. May they last until Christmas.Saturday, August 2, 2008
aug 1
August 1 arrangement with new curtains in background and lavender and recently finished centerpiece also. Granny Grace's teapot on left.
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