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When I was out shopping estate sales, I picked up a little beaded necklace for the beads. I figured I could reuse them.

Then I looked closer at them.

A little skull? That’s a little creepy!

(I already have ideas for using that creepy little bead, but it does make me wonder why anyone put it in a necklace to begin with…??)

The photo is apt for what I will be doing with my time tonight: I will be delving into the lives of the long-dead. Yes, I am sinking into the abyss of ancestry.com. But tonight I go armed: my father sent me a stack of data taking the family back through the Civil War, the American Revolution and into 1490’s England. Possibly further: there was some mention of the Crusades on one note I glanced at.

(I think I’d rest easier if some of them had been pacifists, but it’s not looking that way.)

Until tomorrow, then…

A Beautiful Day

What a perfect day!

I planted some flowers.

The first tree peony opened up in bloom.

The first peony opened up!

Both lilacs are in full bloom and my room is filled with their fragrance.

A Wild Thing came to visit me! (RAWR!)

A cute little boy came to visit me, too!

And another cute little boy came to visit me!

Ahhhhh. What a nice day. 🙂

A Dresser & a Witch

I’ve been in the market for a dresser (or two) to use for storage. I need something no taller than 31″ and I want 6 -8 drawers. I’ve found a few, but rejected them for one reason or another.

Today I set out with that goal in mind (again). First stop: some Estate Sales that started yesterday and last stop: Goodwill.

The Estate sales were well-picked over, but like all gleaners, I found enough at both of them to make me happy and I only spent $10.50. Most of what I bought was craft supplies.

But back to the dresser: I found one at Goodwill today.

I’ve already unpacked three boxes of fabric bits and pieces and filled five of the drawers. That was when I found the lace runner to put on top of it. The little tiles were picked up at one of the estate sales for a dime a piece.

But the coup of the day was the ceramic item there on the dresser:

She was covered in grime and had been overlooked by every other person who walked through the estate sale, but she certainly caught my eye. I paid $1 for her.

The woman who took my money commented that she had been looking at her. We both surmised she was a votive candle holder.

She’s a Kitchen Witch, of course. According to Scandinavian folklore, having a Kitchen Witch in the kitchen keeps pots from boiling over, pot roasts from burning, and other mishaps from happening. They’re supposed to bring good luck.

My interest in her was more artistic. She’s so stinking UGLY, but she has charm. And now that I’ve given her a bath and cleaned the grime off of her, she is much better looking than when I found her.

I found this on the back: Lone Star © 80. I tried doing a Google search, but didn’t come up with anything viable. I found two Lone Star Pottery businesses, one that sells fine china and one that sells terra cotta style planters. A search for Kitchen Witches brought up similar images, but not an exact match and nothing marked Lone Star.

The business could be out of production for all I know. I don’t suppose it matters: I like my little Kitchen Witch, even if my husband rolled his eyes at me. Of course, I showed him the Kitchen Witch after I made him help me haul the dresser up here. And it was not an easy job: that dresser is heavy.

Sometimes I think Don just doesn’t appreciate my yard & estate sale finds!

Disclaimer: no animals were hurt or killed during the collection process. Every one of these antlers was picked up after the deer shed them. The two on the right belonged to the same buck: they are a matched set, but were collected different years. How weird is that to stumble upon both antlers, but different years?

I just liked the play of light on the antlers. The above was with flash. Below is without.

Happy Earth Day!

Forty years ago, I stood with the student body of White Pine High School as we celebrated the very first Earth Day ever. I don’t remember what we did to celebrate (did we pick up trash? Or just hold some sort of meeting in the park?), but I know the  day was memorialized by a photo in our yearbook.

But that yearbook is buried in a closet and I am not going to spend Earth Day! digging it out, scanning it, and uploading it to my blog. So you just have to believe me that I remember the first Earth Day.

So what did I do to celebrate Earth Day on this 40th anniversary?

I took photos of trash.

Why? Because some people still do not “get” it.

If we could just get this under control.

I mean, what does it take to get people to understand they need to put their trash in a proper trash can? Or to dump their cigarette butts in a proper ash tray? How hard is it?

I really, really, really dislike litterbugs. And you see them everywhere: in the city, in the suburbs, and a thousand miles from nowhere, in the middle of the pristine desert or primeval woods. I’ve gone on some hikes where it took a lot of effort to get to where we were going and at the end, what did we find? Someone’s discarded beer can.

So here’s my Earth Day challenge: if you have something to throw away (and it can’t be recycled), try putting it into the right container for trash.

However, I want you to consider recycling it first.

Recycling can be fun and addicting. (Reused: dryer lint, wire, silk blouse, old curtains, silk leaves from some project, beads.)

Yep: Reduce, Reuse, Recycle still rings true. We can change the world if we’d just quit dropping our trash on the sidewalk.

Thank you.

Sleep Paralysis

I was just coming out of a very pleasant dream when I rolled over onto my back and looked at the alarm clock on Don’s side of the bed. 5:10AM. I could hear Don in the living room. Then I heard something moving around under the bed. Then it jumped up onto the bed: a rat! It crawled over by my face and just sat there. I couldn’t move, couldn’t shout, couldn’t shoo it. I wasn’t even sure it was real, but it seemed so real. I just wanted to be able to move. I wanted to call out to Don to come knock the rat off the bed for me.

Then I screamed.

Don came bolting into the bedroom where I sat on the bed, hyperventilating. “Are you OK?”

“I saw a rat.” (He didn’t believe that, so you gotta give the guy some credit. he knew I was having a really bad dream.)

I couldn’t go back to sleep, so I just got up. Don left for work shortly afterward, so I had the early morning and the entire Internet to search out sleep disorders.

I know I suffer from sleep paralysis. I’ve had it all my life and occasionally, I hallucinate. Usually, I have better coping skills when the episodes happen (I know I’m asleep; I know the feeling will pass; if I hallucinate, I have a stock set of prayers to fall back onto). This morning, however, the hallucination was so very real and my brain was awake: I knew what time it was! (It really was 5:10AM.)

I haven’t had that kind of nightmare since I was a young girl and I had haunting dreams.

The plus side to waking up to the nightmare was that I learned more about sleep paralysis than I thought possible and I did it in just a few clicks of the mouse. “I’m not alone” was my first thought.

The second one was, “I’ll wait until noon for the thought that the rat was really a hallucination to sink in.”

This evening, I delved deeper into the subject and learned some surprising things. For one, I learned the sleep paralysis is not a health issue and doesn’t mean I really am suffocating! When the symptoms come on, that’s the first symptom: not being able to breathe. My limbs won’t work, I can’t open or close my mouth, I can’t feel my chest moving with my lungs – in short, I feel like I am dying.

In reality, studies have shown that the sufferer is breathing, but the muscles are not awake enough to relay that message to the brain! Now that is a huge relief.

I learned there are several different levels of sleep paralysis including Alien Abduction. No Way! The ancient mythology of Incubus and Succubus are also a level of sleep paralysis. And there’s the Hag: sufferers see a demon-like creature that often sits on one’s chest and seems to squeeze the air out of the lungs.

Sounds like the rat to me! And rings true with other hallucinations I’ve had in the past.

Sleep paralysis can run in families. Hmmm. My little sister sleep-walked and I think she occasionally had sleep paralysis/hallucinations, too. Like the time she claimed a lion was on the bed. She also hit and bit and talked in her sleep.

The episodes can be brought on by a number of triggers, including stress and some health issues. Most episodes occur when the sleeper falls asleep in the supine position. I knew that: I take great care to not fall asleep when I am flat on my back and I try very hard not to sleep on my back. I long ago learned that I could count on an episode of sleep paralysis if I was flat on my back.

I was flat on my back this morning.

All this knowledge has not brought me complete peace. The lingering image of the hallucination taunts me. I’m unusually tired tonight. And Don keeps looking at me sideways, like he’s not really certain I am all right (I keep assuring him that I am and that it’s all due to a sleep disorder called sleep paralysis, but since this is only the second time I’ve ever frightened him by screaming – and he probably doesn’t remember the first time – he’s naturally quite dubious).

I’m going to post a few links if you want to read further on the subject. I know I do: I want to know how to defend myself in the future. (I don’t mean defend myself against the hallucination, but defend myself against the ensuing terror of the sleep paralysis. Defending myself against the hallucination tends to sound like chasing demons, and I prefer to not think that way.)

I’m relieved to know I am not alone. I am relieved to know I am still breathing even when I don’t feel like I am. I’m more relieved to know there is no rat under my bed.

And that’s the truth.

Sleep paralysis – Wikipedia

WebMD – sleep paralysis

Night Terrors Resource Center (sleep paralysis is not the same as a Night Terror)

and this one is a little strange (and full of grammatical errors: read at your own risk):

Trionic Research Institute (still had some good info to glean)

I’d say “Good Night” here but…

“To sleep, perchance to dream –

ay, there’s the rub.” (Hamlet)

The Muse Shirt

An online friend saw yesterday’s blog and offered to send me scraps of fabric to work with. I was very flattered, but it doesn’t work that way. The fabric has to tell me a story.

When I went shopping for the “clothes” for Zith, I had an idea that I wanted natural colors, animal colors. I was looking primarily for silk (which works best), but I found the animal print cotton blouse and decided to give it a whirl. It seemed to have a “story” and when it was draped onto Zith’s frame, I saw the story fit. Same with the boy’s long underwear that I found (in camo print, no less): I “knew” the arms would work for leggings for Zith and they would somehow blend in with the blouse.

Sometimes I find the fabric long before I find the story.

I have just such an item now. I’ve been wearing it around (my arms are always cold & it has long sleeves). It’s a little incongruous with my normal t-shirt & blue jeans, but it’s comfortable. My husband thinks it’s ridiculous and makes fun of me.

Tonight, he dubbed it “the muse shirt”: “So, does that thing inspire you? The muse shirt?”

Hmmmm. It does, at that.

The red velveteen flower pattern dances on a sheer blouse: no doubt this was meant for something finer than Jaci sitting at her computer desk, trying to keep her arms warm. Someone must have thought it was dressy and purchased it off the rack, new.

Off the rack, new, and I would have passed it up. Not my style.

Hanging on a Goodwill rack for $4.99, now – that’s a different story.

That’s a story waiting to be told.

The shirt is withholding its secrets, so I wear it and wait.

It is 85% Rayon and 15% Silk. Hand wash only.

Not that I am ever going to worry about whether machine washing will hurt it or not. I’m more concerned with the stories it has to tell and what it will become. Pantaloons? A fancy Elf vest? A tutu? A headband? or all of those things?

Sometimes the fabric has a lot of tales to tell. It’s my job to pull the stories out of the fabric.

Zith

This was Zith. She had a lot of design flaws, the most obvious being that she was not free-standing. When I built her, I didn’t think about how arms move when someone walks, so I put the right arm forward with the right leg. That’s very wrong and terribly unbalanced. The left arm is forward when the right leg is forward.

So I stripped her down, broke her arms and tore out her left hand. I remade a left hand, repositioned her arms, re-dressed her and found the right accessories. It’s taken me about two weeks to finish her up. In the process, she lost her “do-rag” (which you can barely see in the photo) and she became free-standing.

Her identity changes as I worked on the “new” Zith. She became something bolder.

She developed a bit of mysticism.

I realized she had a limp. Her “weak” leg is the left leg, where the staff came to be.

I realized I liked her better without a head covering.

She’s a huntress, not a warrior.

She’s a shaman as well. I found some very cool raven-shaped beads at the craft store, the rest are beads I had on hand.

The “cap” to her staff is an acorn cap. The yarn I had on hand (both kinds). And that cool suede-looking “leather” hand band? That’s an old wool sweater I picked up at a yard sale that was pocked with miller damage. Sure looks like some dead animal hide!

She may be a gimp, but she moves quickly. Her stride is all business.

Her pants are the sleeves of an old camo pattern boy’s long underwear top. The blouse is what it is: a sheer animal print ladies’ blouse, cut to length. I used Alene’s Fabric Stiffener, so everything is “glued” down. The fabric stiffener gave a different color and texture to the fabrics, which is why I like it so much.

I wanted to take a photo of her in her natural woodsy element, but the rains returned. One thing Zith is not and that is water proof.

She stands 21″ (53.3cm) tall.

She even has a little ear-bling going.

Tell me that’s a face you love.

I’m sure I’ll work up a story on her in the near future.

I got up this morning determined to get ahead of the sorrel, dandelions and assorted other weeds that took over my little prayer garden last summer after I hurt my ribs. The consolation for not having been able to keep up on the weeds is that I did kill the grass, so I don’t have to deal with that this year.

It took me three and a half hours, several glasses of water, one cup of coffee and breakfast to get this far. The weeds are that unsightly pile in the middle. I also pulled up the weed barrier I put down five years ago.

I have decided that weed barrier is worthless: the weeds grow on top of it and the plants I want to grow can’t expand because of it. And all the mulch I’ve put on the top never gets to mix in with the soil below, so the soil below remains a strong mix of clay and hardened soil.

What you see blooming are forget-me-nots, Oregon grape and bleeding hearts. I rescued the bleeding hearts from under the handicap ramp to our house; they’re thriving in my little part-shade garden here.

It looks somewhat barren right now, but I’ll have to reweed in about two weeks, just to get ahead of the suckers. I pulled Himalayan blackberries, thistles, dandelions, sorrel, chickweed & I-don’t-know-what-else out. And the grass is gone (YAY!). I can now concentrate on really planting things I want to grow inside the fence, like something tall to grow along the chain link and block out the neighbor’s shed with the blue tarp on it.

While I was pulling weeds, the Orchard mason bees were busy. So I grabbed my camera and tried to get a photo.

Not a bee in sight. Dang. But you can see where they live, under the eaves of the shed (that needs painting). And they’ve filled up several straws with larvae already.

Oh look: box elder bug! Or something very similar. We do have box elder trees in the neighborhood and since this looks very much like a juvenile box elder beetle, I’m betting that is what it is. Box elder bugs are pretty stupid bugs, but they’re also very destructive to box elder trees.

This tiny darkling-type beetle was shy and hid right after I snapped the fuzzy photo. The only reason I kept the photo was the red lichen that is eating at the piece of plywood I use to bar Murphy from my garden.

While I was down on my knees, I also found more little bee holes in the ground. Or earthworm holes. Certainly not yellow jacket nests: they aren’t out yet, for one thing, and for another, I think I would have noticed the yellow jackets before I accidentally discovered the little holes.

I still haven’t seen the bees that my husband claims digs the holes & lives in them, so I am now leaning toward the theory that I have faeries in the garden.

There are at least five holes in this clump of moss. I think they are faeries homes and until my husband proves something else to me, that’s what I am sticking to.

It was a productive morning in the garden. But now I think I need a nap.

ttfn!

Squirrel Matron

Saturday, April 17, 2010.

I have nothing to write about.

The squirrel that was in the bird feeder today was silver-grey. It is most likely an old squirrel. You can see vestiges of it’s once-ruddy brown coat. I just hope when I go silver, that my hair turns as nicely as hers did. She’s a very pretty squirrel.

And that’s all the news for today.