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Archive for October, 2012

Some Odd Photos

I started this post a couple days ago and ended up writing about my mom instead. It’s so easy to get side-tracked.

I spent a couple days backing up all my digital photos and my (few) digital remastered photos. Of course, I found a few I really liked.

This old homestead is up on Hart Mountain, over on the east side. Hart Mountain is a fault-line mountain, rising gradually from the east and dropping off suddenly to the west. It’s the exact opposite of Steens Mountain, which is also a fault-line mountain, but Steens rises gradually from the west and drops off suddenly on the eastern side. Steens is a taller mountain, but Hart Mountain is not without its charms. Most of Hart Mountain is an antelope and wildlife refuge. The old homestead was located on Refuge land. (35mm, scanned and cleaned up)

I always wonder about the homesteaders: who were they and why did they give up? Did the water in the well dry up? Did they get tired of the icy winters and lack of firewood? Did the Great Depression drive them to town?

Mostly, I liked the patterns of the shadows and the texture of the wood.

(On a side note, we hadn’t gone five miles from the homestead when we busted one of the springs under the F-25o. It was over a hundred degrees and we had to unload everything to get to the wire in the bottom of one of the camp tubs. The chocolate melted in the cooler. Don wired the spring and we limped 90 miles into Burns where we had to buy a new spring. But that’s another story.)

I was having a blue day and Don took me for a walk along the Clackamas River, between Gladstone and Oregon City. I snapped quite a few photos that I still like. (digital photo)

More textures. It’s an old culvert sitting along the side of a road somewhere, waiting to be installed. I think it was along the 46 Road up above Estacada, but I can’t rememder. (digital photo)

That’s pronounced “es-ta-CAY-duh”.

We were picking huckleberries above Indian Henry Campground one lovely September. This huge bald-faced hornet’s nest was tucked into a vine maple. I had a nice telephoto lens for my 35mm. I’d forgotten that I scanned this and cleaned it up.

Another 35mm photo. I’m guessing it was February. The beaver ponds had flooded over their banks at the bottom of the horse pasture. The mist was just rising when I walked down to see if I could get some good photos. I’ve always liked this photo for the colors.

Film fades. This was taken along Utah Byway 128 in 1984, the first time we drove through there. it was very early morning and all the hills were purple, pink, orange. (35mm)

Same drive, different view. 35mm. I still think the 35mm captured the colors better than the digital camera does. I probably used Fuji film.

Wild flowering currants. I love the contrast in colors. (digital)

Long-nosed leopard lizard on a dead cow. Mickey Hot Springs, out in the Alvord country. The cow had been dead quite awhile and was mostly mummified, but this lizard was still making a living hunting bot flies. If you don’t know that’s  dead cow, it’s an interesting photo. If you know it’s a dead cow, well… I think the photo becomes more interesting. (35mm)

This isn’t a great digital photo, but it takes me back. Don and Samuel carrying our Christmas trees down off the hill. 2008. I just like the photo.

The trees were Charlie Brown Noble Firs. Pretty sad. The memories are precious.

Last one for tonight: A row of washed and weathered stumps along the flood line of the Clackamas River, looking east toward the old railroad bridge.

And that is a snapshot into my life. Be safe everyone. I am thinking/praying for the east coast tonight.

 

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I paid for rocks today. It’s a crazy thing to do when you already have more rocks than you know what to do with, but there you go: I bought a bucket of rocks and paid for a couple rocks that have already been polished.

In my defense, I have a couple little projects that I couldn’t complete with the rocks I have in my own, personal, free collection. Nothing I own (or that my husband owns, which I own by default) quite fit the ends of a couple of “magic wands” I want to make, so I had to go out and find rocks that fit the wood.

And there’s the issue of the broken dragon I bought at Goodwill that I wanted to try to see if I could fix.

So when I got an email a couple weeks ago reminding me that this weekend is the Clackamette Gem and Mineral Show, I marked it on my calendar and notified my husband that I wanted to go. Not that he wouldn’t want to go, mind you: we’ve gone every year for probably 20+ years. We dragged our children to the rock and gem shows (great science class for homeschoolers: all about geology and rocks). There’s a black light show (some minerals glow in the dark or under black lights); plenty of rocks to bid on; a gi-hugic rock that you guess the weight of (and hope to win); plenty of beads, rocks, gems, and fossils to buy; and display cases of rock collections to vote on (Rock Club Member, Guest and Junior categories). Polished rocks, raw rocks, buckets of rocks, carved rocks. Rocks that sell for $3500.00 and rocks that sell for $0.25. Quartzite, moss agate, jade, crystals, picture rock, various kinds of obsidian, geodes, mica, coral, petrified wood, fossils.

I was looking specifically for a couple spheres and something to fit in to a larger grasp, like a moss agate or a quartz crystal.

I found a number of spheres, but they were a lot more money than I wanted to pay considering the piece of wood I wanted to attach them to was free and I am not sure how the project will look in the end. I do want to be able to sell my project(s) for more than they cost me to make.

I spent $4 on a bucket of rocks, $5.00 on a couple polished rocks that could work as substitutes of spheres, $2.00 on a lovely pink amethyst crystal, and too much on a sphere that I hoped would work with the above-mentioned dragon. I bid on a nice large quartz crystal, but someone out-bid me at the last moment. That’s how rock hounds are.

So here’s my haul:

I wish I was nerdy enough to tell you what all those rocks are, besides being the left-overs from a real rock hound’s collection. But I have forgotten nearly everything I ever knew about rocks: I just know what is pretty and what isn’t, and what is quartz or agate or obsidian. Looks like I need to invest in a good field guide and start teaching myself about rocks, doesn’t it?

I bought the bucket because I thought thas piece of moss agate would work well with the one magic wand/faerie staff.

It does fit. I could work with that.

But this fits, too. Amethyst crystals. I won this item in a bid.

This piece of moss agate was in the bucket. It could work, too. I don’t think the photo does it justice.

The sphere was too large for the dragon. The dragon had a broken horn, but you can’t tell because I glues a fake one on. It’s still broken and very fragile, however – a failure at fixing the dragon if I ever try to move it much. BUT – I found a small piece of quartz crystals in the bucket that fit just perfectly in his claws.

Not so much of a fail. Maybe this will work after all.

I have no idea what stone/gem this is, but the darn thing cost me more than I want to admit. It’s pretty.

And it does work in the smaller of the two magic wands/staffs that I am working on.

But so does this polished agate. I have some decisions to make.

One of the keys to looking at rocks is this: how does it appear wet? You know how it goes: you’re down on the beach, looking for pretty agates and seashells and you pocket all the ones you find. When you get home and dump out your pockets, the agates have dried and they are no longer as pretty as they were when you first saw them. You wonder why you ever picked them up.

That’s a nice piece of obsidian, by the way.

What is ordinary takes on a new beauty with the addition of water. It gives the serious rock hound an idea of what a gemstone or rock might look like, tumbled and polished.

I told my husband we need a rock tumbler and polisher.

He laughed at me.

I did not purchase this rock. I just added it to this blog because I am hoping someone will see and and will say, “I know what that is!!”

I picked it up in a mountain stream in the Oregon Cascades. I am certain it is fossils embedded in the quartz, but what fossils? What are those round things??

I don’t think they are cross-cuts of twigs because they do not appear to go straight through the quartz. But I could be wrong.

It’s a rather fascinating rock.

But I think most rocks are fascinating.

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Judging by how silent my “blog roll” is, I am not the only blogger who is either suffering from “writer’s block” or who is laying low until the election is over to say anything again. It’s pretty quiet out there (except on Facebook, where everyone has an opinion and they don’t mind interjecting their opinion onto your wall).

But I am not here to bemoan the highly charged political atmosphere. I am here to celebrate one of my favorite holidays, and that holiday isn’t Election Day.

It’s All Hallow’s Eve, the night before All Saint’s Day. Samhain. Hallowe’en.

It’s a date that is as hotly debated in some circles as the current presidential election is being debated in 2012. For many years, I never openly told anyone that I celebrated the day: the church I was attending highly discouraged the practice. So we carved pumpkins and put them on display at home, but we didn’t share photos of our prizes with our circle of friends at church. I had a hard time with the “do not dress up” rule.

I was known to show up at the Harvest Festival with my wire whip and my nose pin. It did not amuse some of the church elders, but it wasn’t really “dress up” so… Or maybe they just realized that making it into an argument was not going to win me over?

I usually removed the nose pin after the initial shock of seeing me with it in had passed. The wire whip, however – that is a prized possession. (Portland Saturday Market. The artist still sells his wares there.)

Time has brought changes and I now openly celebrate Hallowe’en. I gave up on trying to fit my round self into the square hole of conformity. This decision has brought a little freedom into my world: I openly dress up on October 31st and I have a small collection of items that go on display to entice little Trick-or-Treaters to come to our front door for candy. I add a little bit every year.

I don’t do this for my grandchildren: they never came over on Hallowe’en when they lived close by, anyway. I do this for me, because I like to.

This year’s splurge was a trail of lighted “bones” to light the dark path to our house. We live on a poorly lit street and the hundreds of little creatures that come out to swarm the park two blocks away tend to avoid our dark street. I’m hoping that the combination of porch light on and bones to light the lawn will help attract a few more than our usual ten.

This is the candy table. The Orc (to the right of the witch, holding heavy “chains” makes loud growling sounds. The cauldron will be full of candy (can’t put it out until the 31st because of the dogs).

It should have an eerie effect if we turn off the lights when we open the door… (But we won’t, because we’ll be juggling big, friendly dogs that want to lick little kids and the cauldron of candy.

Tell me the lighted spiders are cool.

From left-to-right: I picked up the hands at Goodwill last year. Awesome. A rat begs beside the Cannibal jack o’lantern. Jake & Elwood (the Alien twins) decided to come outside this year. And I got a glow-in-the-dark skeleton for the doorbell hanger. That weird little candle stick holder up above the Alien twins was a yard sale find. I think it was someone’s high school pottery project gone wrong. Oh – and there’s a red-eyed rat down on the old root. (You have to click on the photo to see everything close up).

I consider the jack o’lantern a masterpiece. HAHA. I don’t think the little pumpkin on the left is very amused, though, and the one in jack’s mouth isn’t talking…

Spooky, huh? I couldn’t do this with my grand kids around. It is a little on the bizarre side, even for me.

I just spent the better part of an hour trying to upload a video to this post. It isn’t going to happen. YouTube doesn’t like the video and WordPress truncated the video. I’ve exhausted my options. Here’s the story behind the Video That Will Not Upload Properly:

I bought this broom from Avon. It takes four AA batteries. Turn it on, and it cackles in the most hideous voice. And it “dances”. It bumps into things, reverses, turns in circles, bumps into things, reverses. After about twenty seconds of torturous laughter, it stops.

And Harvey barks at it. Which sets it off, again.

It’s hysterical.

Murphy’s reaction was even funnier than Harvey’s. Murphy is certain the thing is possessed and must be destroyed.

This is one thing I wish my grandchildren were here to see. I know they’d drive me nuts, touching it again and again and again and again, just to listen to it cackle and watch it bump into things. It’s great.

Since I am on the subject of dress up, I found this mask at Goodwill. It was chipped and faded and beat up. I stripped the ribbon off of it and cleaned it up. I used some “Golden” that is in my bag of tricks and recreated the raised filigree design. I mixed some paint and repainted it, regilded it, and then I heated up the hot glue gun and replaced the ribbon and the “jewel”.

I wear glasses, so I don’t know when I would get to wear such a cool mask (and be able to see across the room), but it’s pretty!

I forgot I had these on once and went downstairs for something. My husband looked up and said, “Did you know your horn is flopping over?”

He didn’t say, “What is that on your head?”

He didn’t say, “What are you doing with that?”

He didn’t say, “Where did you get that?”

He just pointed out that one of the horns had leaned forward in an awkward angle.

Gotta love a man who is not surprised by his wife.

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Old photos that bring back memories. I scanned these photos about 8 years ago and uploaded them to a photo sharing website. The site is closing down and I retrieved them before my albums are deleted. I do have them backed up elsewhere, but I wanted to have a second back up, especially of the ones that were originally taken with a 35mm. I scanned the photos and used a photoshop program to clean them up.

These photos remind me of my mom, because they were taken during that period of time.

The resolution on this one isn’t very high. It’s two photos, stitched together in a photoshop program. Also 35mm. 1993, if I recall right. Could have been 1994. We met my mom and dad in southeastern Oregon and camped a couple nights with them just across the border in Northern Nevada. This old stone house was built near a natural hot springs and we camped one night out there on the desert by it. I figured it was public land, since my dad was a Forest Ranger for years in that part of Northern Nevada. Or maybe he just knew the property owner and wasn’t worried about getting in trouble.

It was the last summer I had with my mom. The last chance my kids had to get to know her. She died in 1995.

She loved that old stone house and I think that was part of the reason we camped there. It was just flat alkali land with scrawny sagebrush and bitterbrush, a few brown hills on the horizon, and jack rabbits. The rabbit brush was tall near the house and hot springs, but otherwise, it was typical windswept Nevada alkali.

 

We took a road trip to Ely after Mom died in 1995. It was early August and most of my photos have never been scanned. We crossed the Santa Rosa Mountains on July 31st and the temperature dropped below freezing. There was ice on our flip-flops outside the tent in the morning. One night, we camped on the Pony Express Trail south of the Ruby Mountains. We just drove out into the tall sagebrush on an old Jeep trail and pitched our tent in a little aspen grove along a dry wash. We counted seven bands of wild horses around us, none any larger than ten horses. The horses were fat, well-built, and very skittish: true Mustangs, not feral horses. I remember telling my dad about them (still awestruck by how close we’d come to some of those beauties) and he told me – for the first time ever – how many times he had come upon true Mustangs in the wild.
It was the first time that my dad told me that he loved horses. He had always left me with the impression that he didn’t like the creatures and that he hated the wild ones. The truth was very different from the impressions of my childhood. He didn’t like feral horses and he didn’t like people who didn’t take care of their horses. But he loved the wild ones.
It wasn’t just the horses. The coyotes came down in the night and serenaded us: a pack of them, ki-yiing all around us. Our dog whined and tried to crawl under the blankets, shivering in fear. In the morning, while the kids slept in and Don hiked, I had a cup of coffee under a scrubby aspen tree. I sensed something and looked up: a mule deer doe was standing five feet from me, not blinking.
“Hello,” I said. “I’m having coffee.”
She stood there a long minute, processing this strange interloper and the odd structure in her wash before she decided she should turn and bounce away. I love how deer bounce.
We held my mom’s memorial service in early August. I think it was the 3rd of August. Stayed a few days and headed back north, still camping along the way.
I wanted to take Don through Secret Pass in the Rubies. It was my mother’s favorite bypass over. There was a range fire. I made him pull over so I could snap a photo of the rising smoke.
We camped on the Alvord on the way home, up at Pike Creek. Of course, there’s always a drive on the playa involved. I caught this sunrise. I just liked how the shadows played.
What is a trip to the Steens country without a cattle drive? My mom loved cattle drives. Even liked getting stuck in them. I don’t mind getting stuck in them. Look at all those pretty Herefords. Oh – there’s a black one in there. Gotta mix in the Angus.
Mostly, we sat in camp at Pike Creek and stared down at the Alvord Ranch and the playa, basking in the hot August sun. I was in mourning and I don’t remember much of the little things we did. It was one of those summers when there was a lot of alkali on the dry lake bed and some wild winds. The dust devils were large and spectacular.
In all honesty, I have never seen a storm like this again. It is my absolute favorite photo of a dust storm on the Alvord, and it will forever remind me of my mother because of when I took the photo.
And, yes, I see a sort of “Hell’s Angel” on a motorcycle in the dust. What do you see?
I had no intention of going down this road tonight, but there you are: sometimes you just end up on the path you take.
She was 14. Her waist was probably 14″, too. <sigh>
Mine isn’t.

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Introspective

I spent most of today cleaning out and re-organizing my studio. It was a mess. It’s not a very large room, and gets rather crowded quickly. Today’s purge and cleaning was not only long over-due but the mess was not conducive to creativity.

I still have a stack of mail on my desk that needs to be looked at and a box of 2012 filing that needs to be done, but I feel like I reclaimed some of the floor space!

Of course, no matter how I do it, I have very limited wall space.

            As you can see – every available inch of vertical wall space is pretty much taken, and most of it is taken with storage.

That’s OK – I’m not complaining. You choose to live in a little house, you learn to live with the storage challenges. As it was, I purged a number of items and boldly put them into the trash (or recycle) bin or I set them aside to donate to Goodwill.

Doing this presented some challenges. I moved some furniture around. I asked myself why I keep some things. And I tried to present an interesting photo op for my blog (did you see that coming?)

For instance, I hand-picked what drawing should be on the little easel. I could just put the little easel away, but there’s an oil painting sitting on it that I really need to finish. I didn’t want to show the unfinished oil painting because it’s really, really, really in the amateur stage. I may even toss it out.

So I picked this silly pastel portrait of Lucky Dog and Teddy Bear, life-long friends. They’re actually inside a box somewhere in my attic. Lucky Dog was a promo stuffed animal for the very first release of the original Disney Movie, “101 Dalmatians”. I lost Lucky Dog for an entire year once. Then someone (I think my brother) found him in a vacant lot a couple blocks from our house, just a little worse for wear. We’ll never know what adventures he went on for that year, but I was so very happy to have him home again! And when I was 15, my mom very carefully resewed his body with new spotted faux fur. His stuffing and eyes are original.

Teddy Bear went to college with me. He also dropped out with me. He married Pinky Cat, my sister’s very favorite stuffed animal. We baked a heart-shaped cake and frosted it with pink frosting, but it turned out to be more of a pink-and-white frosting because we forgot to sift the powdered sugar. My sister, my childhood best friend, and I were in attendance as were all the stuffed animals and Breyer horses we owned. It was a big wedding.

I wonder what ever happened to Pinky Cat?

Teddy has only had one eye for several decades now. He’ll be 56 years old in a couple weeks. Lucky Dog is 51.

The little easel was hiding these terrariums. I bought them at some yard sale. I didn’t really want the terrariums, but they were a package deal with some other item at that yard sale that I really wanted, and so I had to take the whole lot. I only paid a couple dollars. The bonus to cleaning my room is that I had sudden inspirations: I have the beginnings of two glass faerie houses, complete with macramé hangers! Oh, the wheels are rolling! I’ll make the faerie houses and the resident faeries, and then I’ll sell them. They can either go as a set or individually. I’m really excited about this idea! The materials I need for the project have already been purchased and are being stored (conveniently) inside the glass terrariums.

The Dead Fly Pub was my first Faerie house. I can’t bear to part with it. Mavis is the Goblin waitress and Petrick is a regular. Baba Yaga in the background has nothing to do with the Dead Fly Pub, but she doesn’t clash.

I love shadow boxes! I have two and I don’t have any free walls to hang them both on. I collect things that I think I will eventually use in a creation (like the old glasses and sunglasses).  Some things just have sentimental value (a jar full of Arwen’s baby teeth. I don’t have a jar of Levi’s baby teeth because he swallowed them. True story). And some things are just cool, like the folding opera glasses.

Two stories here: the Japanese float belonged to my mother. She had two of them. I remember when my mom found the floats on the beach out of Seaside, Oregon. My brother has the larger one, but I liked this one which is a bluer hue.

Noah’s Ark. No, that isn’t my oil painting. That is my son’s oil painting. He painted it at a homeschool coop class nearly11 years ago.

(Those are dried hydrangea flowers hanging from the ceiling)

Did I mention I like shadow boxes? I have a collection of old Pepsi crates that I have used as shadow boxes. Now they do duty as storage for the many jars of beads and buttons that I use. The Man-in-the-Moon is a fragment of fiberglass that I found up in the woods where some contractor just dumped his trash. I hate the contractor for his dump, but I salvaged that little fragment because of the shape. I etched the Man-in-the-Moon into it. The canes came from my great-grandfather’s estate.

The horse was Chrystal’s but she left it here. I haven’t decided what to do with it. Yet. But rest assured, when I am done with it, it won’t look much like that.

(Don’t you love the vintage suitcase?)

The Locker! Isn’t that a classic? We went to a yard sale put on by the local high school and came home with several treasures, one of which was this locker. It was Levi’s until he moved completely out. Not it is mine.

It is great storage space!

 

We used to have a stero system. We bought it “on time” through Fingerhut. Remember them? The thing died after about 15 years, but we kept the cabinet. I recently converted it into a sort of curio cabinet. My mother’s glass shoes, a vase from my mother’s china hutch; a collection of salt-and-pepper shakers that my Very Best Friend, Rosie, wanted me to have from her huge collection; and my “Painted Ponies” collection fill the interior of it.

The horse on the top of it was a gift from a neighbor girl many, many years ago. She was younger than both of my children. We all lived in a little trailer park and I had a horse in the pasture next to us. When the little girl’s parents bought a house in town and they moved away, she brought me this prized possession of hers as a “thank-you” for the few times that I gave her a ride on my horse. I truly treasure that horse.

Chrystal painted the bunny with the sun dial.

Levi painted the flower pot that holds the tiny glass float. I no longer remember where I picked up the tiny float, but it’s a genuine Japanese float.

This is an unfinished oil painting that I am actively working on. I need to finish the foreground and the highlights on the bushes. Early sunrise at Pike Creek Trail Head on Steens Mountain. It’s been a stretch for me: I did a lot of palette knife work on this. I’ve never worked with the palette knife before.

This corner is a bit of a mess. I have frames and canvases stored in the boxes that Banker’s Boxes come in. I can’t think of a neat way to store the over-sized stuff. But I did think to prop an old oil painting up on them, to sort of take away from the ugliness of the cardboard, and the crowd of tool boxes. The painting is of Don’s last dog (before Murphy): Rejoys Hannah’s Promise, better known as Sadie. She was the brown-and-white English Pointer in the center of the litter. Dumbest Dog that ever lived and I miss her so! We had her for 10 years before cancer claimed her.

I have to share this. It’s just so cool! I’ve had it for 3 decades. The little boxes are the size of matchboxes and they hold such office “essentials” as: gummed labels, paper clips, rubber bands, mending tape, gummed patches, and key tags. Tell me that isn’t the coolest (and most useless) thing! I can’t bear to part with it because it is just so fun.

This is my other shadow box. My friend, Audrey gave it to me. I still have empty slots to fill. My dad’s flag and my mom’s glass boot, a “good luck” cat (also from Audrey), some miniatures in polymer clay that I made and painted, a broken piece from an old cast iron wood stove, and the list goes on.

Something I would never buy myself: my boss gave it to me one Christmas. I appreciate that she chose unicorns (as close to horses as she could get at the Dollar Store). I keep it because the thought was so sweet.

My assistant. I put his bed out in the loft while I worked and he still came and laid down in the middle of the floor while I worked. He was quite happy when I finally moved his bed back into the studio.

And for the heck of it: my current project. I picked up this mask for $0.25 at Goodwill. The gilding had been knocked off as had some of the raised design. I used some “golden” and reapplied the design, and then I painted it. I still have to glue on the rick-rack and ribbon. I’m very pleased with how it is turning out.

Thank you for stopping by and reading. This post was a bit introspective and I’ll be thrilled to think someone actually bothered to read it all. Maybe it gives you an insight into how I think. Or how cluttered I am.

I really did throw things away.

OH! I found this when I was rearranging the locker:

That had to be circa 2002. It’s from Levi’s college Swing Dance course. Made me smile.

We won’t talk about the decapitated and mutilated plastic Army men I found in the same drawer.

I emailed my son and asked him if there was anything about his childhood that we needed to discuss…

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Hallowe’en and Harvey

I love Hallowe’en. I can’t tell you why. OK – I can tell you why I like Hallowe’en: it’s dress-up time. And I love dress-up.

I’m not really into the whole witches-ghosts-nightmare stuff. I read Alfred Hitchcock when I was a kid, but nowadays I’d rather not be startled or frightened. I’d rather Hallowe’en was about Boo Radley saving Scout and Jem than it is about scary stuff.

So it is that my Hallowe’en decorations tend to focus around things like lights, pumpkins, jack o’lanterns, spiders, bats, and rats.

Not living rats! I abhor real, living rats. I’m more into the R.O.U.S. sort of rat or the squooshy rubber rat.

I’m really not into cutesy spiders. Spiders ought to look a tad more threatening.

The disembodied hands are a favorite. I think Harvey looks a bit unsettled, don’t you think?

“Oh, good little puppy, let me just scratch your little chin…”

“What a good puppy.”

Seriously, Mom? Would you quit flashing that light in my face?

Back to Spiders. They ought to look somewhat threatening. Everyone is so afraid of spiders and sticky spider webs.

Get.It.Off.Me.

I think Harvey was beginning to sulk!

So I brought out the BIG spider. The “umbrella” spider, as I call it. It put one or two of its legs over Harvey and tried to smile for the camera.

Harvey was having none of it.

What a party pooper!

OK, so I will try the WITCH.

Harvey shows some interest, finally.

Hi There! You smell kind of nice. I like the hat. The wart is a nice touch.

You look like you need a doggie kiss. Doggie kisses make it all better.

I eat my own poop, so my breath should smell wonderful to a witch like you!

Aw, Mom! I will love him, and hug him. and squeeze him, and I will call him George!

Can I keep him?

(Apologies to Hugo the Yeti, who first said those immortal words)

 

 

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This is probably one of my most favorite events of all time, not because I am for banning any books but because it tends to have the exact opposite effect on reading.

The list of Banned Books varies from year-to-year and while I am an advocate of age-appropriate distribution of certain books, I am also a failure at monitoring my own children when it came to certain books.

I hid The Color Purple by Alice Walked in my bedroom, deeming it highly inappropriate for my pre-teen daughter.

I didn’t miss it until she’d read it and was ready to replace it.

She didn’t know it was “banned” so she didn’t hide the fact that she borrowed it from me.

We rented the movie and made it a Girl’s Weekend of Great Movies and popcorn.

Banned Book = Teachable Moment.

(We also rented The Stepford Wives, Whatever Happened to Baby Jane and The Birds.)

My son discovered Catch-22 by Joseph Heller and A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess before he was 14. He used to quote Catch-22.

I read A Separate Peace by John Knowles every year throughout high school.

My dad borrowed Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger from me when I was 16. I was quite worried about what my dad would say when he returned the book (a library book) to me. All he said was, “You know that kid is in a nuthouse, don’t you?”

Banned Book = Teachable Moment with your parent.

I just set down Micro by Michael Crichton and Richard Preston (Preston finished the novel for Crichton) in time for Banned Books Week. (It is not one of Crichton’s best and is written like a screenplay (not surprised to see it is already a film). Now that I have my hands free to read a really good novel, I think I will tackle one on the Banned Books List.

I think I will start with a scam on how not to white wash a fence and still get paid for it.

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