Agenda Camp, Windsor, Sunday, October 19, 2008

OK, so Agenda Camp was yesterday. So sue me. I filled in the title first thing in the morning, thinking I might blog through the day but then I ended up taking notes for two sessions and editing them for upload and I was too tired to write anything when I got home after dinner with Paul.

The “camp” format grew out of a bunch of techies camping out, brainstorming and debugging in a sort of marathon fashion. It has morphed into something called “open space technology” which is explained pretty well here. You can see the results of our day here. There are links to stuff on You Tube and something caller “Twitter” which I haven’t investigated yet.

I have mixed feelings about the experience. I’m not sorry I went and I’m attending the live broadcast of the show tonight though the line up of guests for the panel leaves me tepid. I think the publicity for the event could have been better and the attendance reflected that. I was disgusted that not one representative of any level of government (i.e. elected official) bothered to attend to listen to the ideas of a bunch of ordinary citizens though they are rescheduling the City Council meeting normally held on Monday nights so the whole gang can attend the broadcast with live cameras! I mean they could have drawn lots and the guy with the short straw would have had to give up a Sunday, fer chrissakes!

There were some real activists as well as a couple of people with actual clout, a couple of interested retirees and a complement of the expected unemployed oddballs of whom I am doubtless one. I don’t know if I made the wisest choices among the available sesions but – in another sense and judging from the videos – it may have made little real difference.

I don’t suppose anyone rode out on any but the hobby horse they rode in on and I don’t think that was anyone’s expectation. Part of the theory is that two conflicting ideas can sometimes ultimately lead to a new plan. The problem of implementation remains as well as the problem of disagreement as to what exactly should be implemented but I’m not sure there are orchestrable “solutions”. I suspect it’s more of a cyclic thing and time will bring what it brings economically, culturally and politically in an organic fashion.

I did have a chat with Steve Paikin which was interesting in terms of what he perceived (or at least voiced) about me. He’s far too polite to actually call me a “nasty old bat” as others of my acquaintance have been wont to do (in only the nicest manner, I assure you!) He said I was a Conservative and he’s right though it rather surprized me to recognize it. I always used to vote Conservative as did my father and probably the rest of my family for that matter. We were, after all, Orangemen of Toronto-the-good! Even as a youngster I admired John Diefenbaker. Mr. Paikin made the point that we cannot go back to the simpler economic times; we must live in the times where we find ourselves. (I paraphrase. It made sense and was much less a statement of the obvious in context.) However he phrased it, I experienced a sort of paradigm shift and realized that part of me really does long for a return to a simpler time. I “know” that isn’t possible but I hadn’t fully realized how deeply I have fallen into the trap of age that deplores the present and fears the future. Intellectually I don’t really expect the world to listen to me or any other aged “sage” but viscerally I do experience the world as going to hell in a handbasket and wish I could turn back the clock. Perhaps I can retain my new awareness and stay off my soapbox (for awhile at least).

I had my usual complement of personal f*** ups beginning with a flat tire on the scooter and meandering through mistaking tea for coffee (Yuck! I hate tea!) among a table of identical carafes and putting my back out using the walker for the first time. (I needed some way to manage my computer, purse, etc. from room to room and floor to floor.) Got an enormous laugh out of the “swag” – a grey, rubbery “squishy brain”! At a conference about the failing manufacturing economy in Ontario someone pointed out that it was made in China! Maybe they can just peel off the labels for the next camp. I like it anyway and the cats who will be the eventual beneficiaries will love it.

I have now to dress and make my way back to the city for tonight’s broadcast. I’ve deliberately taken it very easy today as my back has been problematic and I’d like to stay awake for the evening. I am so very tempted to take my knitting. I usually knit while watching The Agenda, after all. I do not, however, want to carry it along with my purse and am taking neither (still hors de combat) scooter nor walker for the simple stroll (OK, limp) in and out of the gallery.

I think I’m over it.

I still have to assemble them but the pages for The Ed’s youngest grandson, Russell, are finished. It’s (mostly) McCall’s  # 7524 c. 1981.

Now I know my A B C’s, next time . . . someone please STOP me!  I have to go assemble a book. That is so all.

Still above ground

Well that six weeks went by fast! I haven’t been idle; I’ve barely been home but I’ve kept busy when I have been here.

We did the swap meet and the weather was better than predicted – a lot better, thank goodness. I finished knitting a little one piece for my grandson for Christmas.

Since then I’ve knit myself a sweater that actually fits

and a pair of wee mittens, also for the grandson, from leftover cashmere/merino/acryllic blend.

I’ve been in and out of so many doctor’s offices and labs that I’ve lost track and there are a couple more tests yet to come but I’ve also lost 30 pounds since May!

I made a “wallhanging” (for lack of a better word) and submitted it to a local juried bieenial exhibition. I’m waiting to hear if it’s accepted. “Earth Mother” threatens to be the first piece in a series.

I finally got back to the fabric book I was working on at last writing and I’ve just this afternoon finished constructing the pages though it still needs a cover and has to be assembled.

No harm in a little self-promotion! I will not appear opposite the nuts in the final assembly. The acorns contain little metal discs which adhere to rare earth magnets (also securely embedded) in the tree.

I will admit here that the upside down Jack was a mistake but – after all the machine sewing that secures the face and adds the features, I wasn’t taking it out! The book I’m using (less and less) for reference had a queen for “Q” but I didn’t like her (and finding a “Q” word was tricky for various reasons). I settled on “quack” before The Ed thought of “quilt”. I can be very dumb.

“Kite” is a bit of a cop out but it works. I didn’t like their “P” either (and don’t remember what it was at the moment but how can you lose with a puppy?

“Otter” replaced “Owl” because my son doesn’t collect owls. The shoe is the book’s and I quite like it.

I know. I’m out of order. It gets confusing but I think they’re at least all placed right for assembly. They’d better be or Evan’s gonna learn a whole new alphabet! The crackers are plastic. No idea where I got ‘em. The animal cracker box is from a commercial print, believe it or not. The clock’s hands move, of course and the numbers are that fun foam stuff, die cut.

One of the blocks of snow in the igloo is on velcro and can be removed and (hopefully) replaced. The blocks are cut from one of those scrubby “sponges”. The hat is a lined pocket and the rabbit comes all the way out. He’s several layers of flannelette outlined in pink.

I believe “M” and “N” complete the alphabet (and the book) and – if they don’t – you get the idea. The mitten is cut from a (failed) sweater sleeve and is zigzagged onto the page but only partly so a child can put his or her hand into it. It’s large enough for several years of play.  Another idea of my own as the book used ”mirror” which I covered with “Evan” under “E”. They wussed out anyway, using the word, “mirror” but only a simple face applique.

The nest is woven of fabric strips from a print that reminds me of straw or grass or basket weaving. It’s a “braid” woven on three warps from a book, 200 braids to twist, knot, loop, or weave by Jacqui Carey which I quite like but haven’t used much before now. The eggs are fastened in because I don’t have any snaps on hand and wanted to finish today. The activity can be the counting.  I talked myself out of hatched or hatching eggs with birdies. Enough, already!

It’s very late and – while we had a late lunch – I’m not going to want to be preparing supper at 8:00 so I’m outta here.

What I’m up to

So what have I been doing, you ask – or maybe you don’t but hey, you don’t have to read this! I have begun a new project with a self-imposed spring deadline which has, of course, led directly to avoidance in the form of the sort of thing I would normally run from, screaming.

While looking for something else (and how do you ever find anything?), I came across a book I bought awhile back:  26 Lively Letters: Making an ABC Quiet Book by Barbara Williams and Carol Grundmann. I decided it would make a good Christmas present for my new grandson and I was off. Of course, I can’t ever do anything without tweaking it a little (or a lot) so here is my work in progress so far.

I didn’t like their choice for “X” (Xmas) so invented an “x-ray” page. The little panel lifts to reveal the boy’s shirted torso. Not very clever but the kid’ll be 5 1/2 months old at Christmas!

The crow’s wings lift to the sides, returning on elastic. The dinosaurs don’t do anything but they’e better than the dinosaur suggested in the book (I think).

Didn’t like their “E” (for the earring in a pirate’s ear; the kid’ll see earrings everywhere. Didn’t think it a useful connotation.) My “E” for “Evan”, my grandson’s name, has a mirror.

The “Valentine” can be unwoven and rewoven.

I really struggled with “ukulele” but how many exciting words start with “U”? (Please, don’t tell me now!) That one was a b***h to assemble but the strings can be plucked.

The flowers aren’t very sophisticated. I’m not much of a gardener at best but I can “grow” these:

Just can’t take good snapshots!

The odd order is due to the eventual assembly of the cloth book. So far so good. With any luck I won’t be teaching the kid the alphabet in the wrong order, warping him for life. I’ve done twelve pages at an average rate of two in an afternoon. (I quit after “ukulele” today. I have my limits.) Only fourteen to go! (Yipes!) I also have to treat all the coloured pencil work with fabric medium which my daughter assures me will render it washable.

I have to take some time out now and get ready for the semi-annual trek to the automotive swap meet at Barrie. We leave Wednesday morning and I should probably pack clothes and food at least. I have some knitting to take but I don’t think the book is my kind of “portable”. I may also take some quilt blocks I’ve been embroidering for a long term project . . .  or I may not.

The Ed hit a yard sale this afternoon on the way back from an errand and brought home three boxes of sewing patterns. Didn’t have the heart to tell him I’d gotten rid of most of my “just in case” collection, throwing out bags after my daughter got first pick. Wonder if her cabinet’s bursting yet? She’ll never be able to resist a peek. There might be something wonderful. I have to go have a browse through them myself now.

Maybe I live in OZ

Well, a month has gone by like a week and I haven’t blogged on.  Life does interfere with our plans sometimes. So does death. We lost my SO’s sister on August fifth. She’s has a  rough time with what must be a record of some sort for survival on dialysis and had been failing badly for the last year or more. We weren’t sure when we said goodbye last summer that we’d see her again and we’re very grateful we made the trip to Timmins in late June.

After a visit from the SO’s daughters and their families on the sixth, we headed north again on the seventh, driving as far as the surviving SIL’s cottage north of Huntsville on the Friday. On Saturday she accompanied us for the remainder of the very long drive to Timmins where we arrived in time for the visitation Saturday evening. The funeral service (followed by cremation) was held on Sunday afternoon, a first in my experience. We stayed at the hotel Sunday night and began the return trip Monday morning. The whole thing gave new meaning to the term “last respects” as there is no one else who could have taken me that last time to a city I detest.

On the way home we gave ourselves a coupel of treats in the form of a visit  to the Belle Vallee woollen mill where they go from sheep to blankets on antique milling machines, We saw the process from start to finish and I came away with yarn and roving for my DD and myself.

Monday night was spent back at the cottage on Round Lake but we didn’t linger longer this time, leaving fairly early for the last leg of the trip home. We stopped to examine a Jeep thing (for the second time). We stopped at the Spinrite Factory Outlet tent sale in Listowel where a few more items followed me home.

And we stopped to visit a farm where I’d spotted a sign for St. Bernard puppies on the way up when we had no time to stop anywhere. We met “Junior”, an enormous, long-haired male, his lovely wife, a pretty short hair whose name escaped me, their recently rescued adult female friend, Molly and their adorable ten-and-a-half-week-old son, the remaining puppy.  To my credit and/or dismay, I resisted firmly and we came home puppy- and dog-less. The female needs us but I fear she might not fit into our household. The puppy is wonderful. I have their phone number but he may well have found his home by now.

I am not as virtuous as I may come off. The only reason Molly and/or the puppy did not come home with us would be Hannah.

The SO has long longed for a Newfoundland Dog. He found Hannah on Kijiji and called and we were going to see her when we were in Windsor at the end of July. That didn’t work out but the owner (or his wife) met us in Tilbury on Sunday, August 2 and – of course – Hannah came home with us.

She is a Newfoundland from Newfoundland, ironically, having came to Windsor as a puppy with her original owner who promptly died. She was locked in a garage by heighbours until the owner’s landlord surrendered her to the animal shelter from whence she was purchased as a gift for the seller’s husband. After that it gets a bit murky and I don’t hold out a lot of hope for the marriage but Hannah needed a secure home. She’s a loving bear of a dog, smallish for a Newfie but still our second largest furry family member. She has abandonment issues, understandably so the timing of our lightning trip north was not ideal. My DD, who minds the farm when we roam, spent many hours “relaxing” on our patio, teaching Hannah that people do come back (three times a day) and offering love, assurance, companionship and exercise as she brought her Lab pup to run our guys ragged.

Everyone was glad to see us (perhaps especially my daughter) and life proceeds as normally as is possible in a large, laid back household that harbours two retired eccentrics, four dogs and five cats. Hannah and our Rexie had a set to the other night that left the usually victorious Rexie with a cut below her eye but it’s healing and they seem to be getting along agreeably enough. Ulster, the DD’s Lab, stirs things up regularly. Rexie’s lost some weight after the several under exercised years since I have been able to take them all to the beach daily. Charley, the St. Bernard, is turning into the grouchy old man of the lot, second only to The Ed in that category. but you can’t blame him as Ulster can be a bit trying at times. Barney, the Yorkie, retreats to the safety and companionship of his pussycats after brief periods with the “real dogs” but nobody threatens him; they just don’t always see him which can be perilous when you weigh less than five pounds.

I have been reluctantly turning the housework over to my daughter in favour of more studio time (and if you believe that I would like to show you a bridge in Brooklyn I’ll sell you cheap) with the result that OZ may actually make it to the gallery by the changeover at the end of the month.

It’s not finished and never will be if I don’t stop adding stuff and it’s hard to get a good snapshot even in the generous studio area as it’s large. I had hoped to deliver it today but the finishing is tedious and can only be done a little at a time so next week it is.

I have almost resisted working on my next obsession but will at least be able to avoid the dreaded “between projects” slump since I am champing at the bit to get at it. I’ll keep that one to myself for a little while as it’s guaranteed to offend at least some people.

With that I must be about another day (or what’s left of it by the time I get downstairs). Kitchen chores and prescription refills call this morning and I ought to eat something. I really don’t know where the time goes . . . .

Maybe we could consider bringing Molly into our lives now that things are back to normal . . . .

Life is what happens while you’re making other plans

Most of another month (and a birthday!) have limped by me. Finished and submitted my (ghastly) painting but I had a lot of fun doing it.

My DIL presented me with an eight pound, thirteen ounce grandson, Evan Alexander. He looks like his father.

We made a trip up and back a week ago to meet him and bring home my DD who had gone up to babysit her niece during labour and delivery just after acquiring a new immediate family member herself.

“Ulster” is a now five month old bundle of wriggling chocolate Lab who is learning to avoid sheep, not chase chickens and respect the cat. He’s a dog’s dawg who loves his pond, our lake, our dogs . . . pretty much everybody except – it is to be hoped – raccoons, foxes and other predators.

I have an appointment with the internist in late August when he is hopng to see some weight loss. Oooops! The chemical stress test revealed “some angina” which does not yet require medication. Good!?

I’d apparently been developing a urinary tract infection which went ballistic the day before my birthday which I then spent at the local clinic. My reliable recuer, the doctor there, an old school Scot who concocted the magic salve that cleared up a nasty, runaway case of infected eczema last year, once again put me out of my misery which was apparently complicated by some sort of spasms you don’t want to know about. Trust me!

So far I can say that the upside of turning sixty-two is that it’s been improving daily. I see my GP Tuesday when he can decide whther or not to extend my antibiotics and the other interesting drug that relieves the pain but turns things bright orange.  Both these mads carry headaches as a likely side effect so I can stop worrying I’ve developed a brain tumour coincidentally (I hope).

My SIL’s grandmother died early last Wednesday morning, a blessing for all concerned including herself. We visited the family Friday night. She was well into her nineties, lucid to the last but suffering a great deal of pain for an extended period. She had ultimately requested the withdrawal of all meds and proceeded to die as she lived, a lady of the old school. She was a fashion model in Wales in her youth and I enjoyed seeing the  photos from the thirties. Her daughter and granddaughter look just like her. There are blackmail-worthy shots of the SIL in a cute, smocked dress!

I was reunited with an old friend at the visitation. He married into the SIL’s family but I always forget to expect to see him there as I’ve known him for centuries. Probably met him first at one of the ex’s high school reunions. Hadn’t realized that I hadn’t talked with him since moving to the farm so there was some catching up to do. He and his wife spent two years motoring to Venezuela and back on their boat in the interval where he dived into an active volcano. He’s an interesting guy!

I have to psych myself up to finish a longstanding project, an art quilt based on The Wizard of Oz. I want to submit it to the gallery at their next change up at the end of August and bring home several works that are getting stale and “shopworn” (at least to my way of thinking). Given the tanking economy, I guess there may have been better times to open a co-op gallery in a small city but it had such promise. I re-upped for another year and we’ll see how it goes. OZ is so close to finished, it’s ridiculous. I will set a deadline for just after the SO’s family visits the first week of August and then plunge back into it.

Friends were out from Windsor Thursday and the weather co-operated. They had the tour of DD’s small scale farming operation and we sat on the patio, totally relaxed. They even gave Rexie a much needed run on the beach. Charley got to go later when DD brought Ulster over for a romp and roll. Kind of made up for leaving everybody for extended periods Friday and Saturday whe we went to a barbecue at a friend’s in Kingsville, a rare venture into quasi-normal society.

I have no specific ambitions for today. In fact, I intend to do as close to nothing as humanly possible. I’ve set aside most knitting for a spell, with the exception of the second sock of a pair that I pick up from time to time. It would go quickly if I could force myself past the ribbing. Instead I have been cross stitching  large quilt squares for a long term project, finding the primarily mindless stitching quite relaxing (and less sweaty than a lapful of wool).

I will close with eye candy, a recent candid of the cutest little girl anywhere, my two-year-old granddaughter.

Where does the time go?

I was rightly afraid to check just when I’d posted last and it was over a month ago! I’ve lost touch with old friends with whom I was delinquent in maintaining correspondence this way.  My knee jerk guilt which is my first response to just about any situation wants me to suffer but I refuse. Been there, done that when I made attempts at journalling pre-internet, all of which were foreordained to fail. Besides I’ve been trying very hard to get over the sense of responsibility for things which has dogged me all my life. (I may be overdoing it in the case of the housework but that’s been getting beyond me anyway so the suffering isn’t doing any good.)

In brief (sort of), since my last post, I have finished piecing the little boy’s quilt, done a lot of hand quilting and a bit of machine quilting and am down to some of the latter to stabilize larger, unquilted areas. I have also assembled and partially hand-quilted a pre-printed “baby quilt” panel for an expected grandson. I knit a pair of socks for a Christmas gift and have almost completed my shawl in the Estelle Woolley Bulley the SIL gave me at Christmastime.

Some of the above was done during our semi-annual sojourn at the automotive swap meet in Barrie earlier this month, some of it during evenings in front of the TV at home and the shawl on our annual trek to Toronto, Timmins, Thunder bay, Sault Ste Marie and home since Saturday, June 20.

We got in last night, reasonably early and watched In and Out and Personal Best on TVO before falling into bed. I enjoyed both movies more than I would have expected though there were certainly conflicts surrounding the first on a number of personal and artistic levels.

The SIL in Timmins who was failing last year when we visited and might well not have made it this far did but seeing her was a shock that just couldn’t be adequately prepared for. It was hard to leave but she is truly not up to a great deal of visiting. My other SIL and buddy accompanied us again and I’m sure was very glad she had as was I but she bussed home from there, choosing not to go on with us to the SO’s daughter’s in Thunder Bay as she did last year.

That proved to be a wise decision. On the bleak highway between Hearst and Longue Lac we developed truck trouble which proved – when we limped into the first service provider in the latter town – to be a front wheel bearing. Very helpful personnel ordered the parts overnight, got us and our luggage across the street to a motel and restuarant for an unscheduled night on the road and saw us on our way by nine the following (Wednesday) morning.

They may have done us one other little “favour”. Not far out of Longue Lac, the engine began miss-firing, refusing to accelerate normally. A dashboard light flashed alarmingly and I briefly considered turning around and going back to the friendly guys in LL. To make a long, agonizing story shorter, the SO convinced me we could drive with caution to our destination, let the engine cool and check the plugs. Since he didn’t have the necessary wrench along anyway, we set out tentatively and – indeed – got safely to our destination only half a day late, the truck behaving quite well under the circumstances. Upon investigation, the SO discovered one (or possibly two) loosened spark plugs. In my lifetime of driving, I have learned to recognize spark plug and distributor problems but I have never had one spontaneously loosen.  I may appear dumb, sometimes by design, when I am attempting to get service from a guy under straitened circumstances like half an hour before closing time, for example, but I am not actually stoopid! If we make the same journey again next year, I will be very tempted to drop into the mechanics’ shop and tell them the funny story of what happened when I left there this year after their heroic rescue.

With spark plugs tightened, the truck is performing perfectly though I will have to take it to the dealer’s to have the computer reset to convince the dash light to go out. It’s due for an oil change anyway and they’ll wash it for free. I’ll call tomorrow after we’ve unloaded and I’ve caught up with laundry.

In other news, during the time between road trips. I had a breathing test and a consult with a respirologist who assures me I’m doing it (breathing) right which is most gratifying as I had a good deal of breath and voice training many years ago and certainly thought I had it down.

I also experienced further wonders of nuclear medecine in the form of a chemical stress test. (I had a lung scan before the Chalk River incident but had the heart test postponed and then abruptly rescheduled when the hospital scored some isotopes.) First day (in Windsor, the day after the respirologist adventure, also in the city) I had a ct scan of my heart “at rest” while perched precariously on a sort of rail with my arms above my head while the “camera” revolved around me. The next day they injected drugs that stressed the heart by opening all the blood vessels to their maximum, an unpleasant sensation to say the least, injected another dose of the isotopes and took pictures again for comparison. The worst part of the whole experience was that I had to go without all caffeine for 36 hours prior to the stress test. (My pain medication contains caffeine!) My thirty-eight-year-old daughter figures the last time I went that long uncaffeinated was when I was in labour with her.  Normally recaffeinated and after consideration, I realize she is mistaken. I did not drink coffee during either of two pregnancies though I may have indulged in diet cola; that I do not remember and cannot quite imagine foregoing given that there were threats on my life during the 36 hour abstinence.

I have a message to call the doctor who ordered all these examinations and will do so tomorrow. I will doubtless have a consult with him in the fairly near future and will be confronted with not only my appalling condition but decisions regarding treatment. I can hardly wait.

I managed eight days of more miles/kilometres than I care to count with no expenditures for anything other than food and truck parts and service. I brought home no yarn, fabric, crafts materials or other indulgences, not even books. I consider this an accomplishment even in the face of the $500 plus expenditure on repairs and an extra night in a hotel. (The SO paid for all fuel and most meals, it being “his” family excursion.)

Once we are unloaded, I have more than a week’s laundry to catch up on and the equivalent of the Augean Stables to clean out. I also have a painting to complete and prepare for hanging which must be submitted to a local gallery between Tuesday and Saturday this week. I forgot to include that (my first painted effort) in things partly done or accomplished since last writing. I also need to make a day trip to London for a visit with a friend that got put off when my stress test was rescheduled on short notice. The DD, SIL and two grandsons we visited in Thunder Bay will be visiting us here during the first week in August by which time the house must look houselike and food must be acquired and prepared. It might even be wise to shop and cook before then though in some respects it might be wiser not to. I doubt the SO would go for that tactic however.

The SO’s other, Windsor-based DD and family left their large, young dog here Saturday on their way out on vacation, adding to our already generous furry population. They all seem to have had some sort of bonding orgy of shedding in the province-wide heat wave while we were gone. That Augean Stable I mentioned probably looked and smelled better!

I have pix of llamas and alpaca and must take some of projects but there are other, more pressing obligations. Breakfast comes to mind, for example.

I did  not get pictures of the mother bear with her two cubs, the mother moose with her calf, the older, male bear or what may have been a woodchuck carrying her baby across the highway but I very much enjoyed seeing all of them. The north is beautiful country. There is just far too damned much of it.

Piece by piece

You could say that I have an organic approach to design.

You could say that I am a lousy photographer . . .

. . . with a cheap camera.

I certainly wouldn’t argue with you in any case.

Nevertheless I have the beginning of a fun quilt for a little boy’s first birthday and have quite enjoyed mucking about with bits of cloth for most of the day.

Playing around

Well, the “last test’ I mentioned last time I wrote wasn’t the last after all. I’m scheduled for two long days of chemical stress tests at the hospital in June. Plus I’ve heard from a respirologist who wants to test my breathing -  also in June because we were running out of May! The hospital had scheduled me for the first two days we’re at the automotive swap meet in Barrie but I got that changed to the next week so I get a “break” until then. Of course, I don’t get any info from the internist until he gets all the test results but I’m not exactly waiting with bated breath. If I’m in worse shape than I think and suddenly drop dead, it will be a shame to have wasted all the scarce medical resources but it won’t bother me any.

In the meantime I’ve been doing the usual little around the house, keeping up with laundry and continuing to sort and cull. In my perusal of old National Doll World magazines, I found a recreation of a pattern for an articulated doll originally copyrighted by a Sarah Robinson in Chicago in 1883. The article’s author, Elizabeth Andrews Fisher, had a part body which she took apart and copied while constructing replacement parts.  I’ve had a hankering to play with an articulated doll for some time now so I made up a small one according to the original construction method.

I suspect she might have been better stuffed with sawdust and I might try that with another, larger figure but I had a lot of fun with this little gal. She’s under a foot tall. The head – to which I haven’t done justice – is constructed exactly like a baseball, then slit crosswise for the insertion of one end of a fabric wrapped thread spool as a neck. I’ve pulled a bunch of patterns and ideas for costuming her appropriately for around the turn of the century.

Before I can play with her further, I’ve taken a few days out to dress a Cabbage Patch kid and make linens for a doll carriage for Ed’s granddaughter’s third birthday.

The carriage is awaiting its second coat of paint and re-assembly; that’s Ed’s department though I supplied the vehicle. With two granddaughters between us, surely one of them will be crazy about dolls?  If Charla likes this one, I can make her a wardrobe for Christmas! i know she’s dressed a bit maturely for a doll carriage but Charla won’t mind and it’s more like her this way. Baby clothes are boring and I’ve been sated with them lately, dressing the baby doll for Kyra to give her when her brother arrives.

I forget what else I meant to ramble about but Ed’s looking for lunch as his roofing crew have taken off for theirs so I’d better go down and make something of the chicken broth and rice I left simmering in the crockpot this morning.

Up to date . . . to a point

Stayed up late last night and watched The Colour Purple on TV. I don’t know why I never saw it; I’ve never been much good at contemporary cultural icons. Am I the last person in North America who didn’t know Oprah Winfrey started out as an actress? Got a kick out of spotting “Larry Fishburne” in the credits as a very young man in a tiny role. I’ve fairly recently come to recognize and appreciate him as “Grissom”’s replacement on CSI. (So, sue me!) Anyway the movie was definitely worth the loss of sleep. I should probably see Titanic and Les Miserables too and all the other things I haven’t seen in spite of much of a life spent in and around theatre – but don’t wait for my review.

I’ve lost an entire week since last writing. Oh, I know where it went; I just didn’t get a lot of use out of it. I have a friend who spent the same week travelling to and from Mississippi and helping to repair someone’s house there so the contrast is alarming. I did laundry and even vaccuumed a floor or three but some of the laundry isn’t hung up yet!

Spent two days in and around Chatham, another two going to and from Windsor (twice) and the better part of yesterday in Blenheim. I was “home” Friday but my daughter bribed the Ed with Chelsea buns to deliver a truckload we’d picked up in Windsor and we hadn’t seen their kitchen reno yet so . . . . You see how it goes. Pleasant enough week for the most part but not exactly productive.

Ever since my last visit to the GP I’ve been chasing around being tested for things I know perfectly well aren’t wrong with me and that’s discounting the tests I haven’t (and probably won’t) schedule. I’m in remarkable shape for the shape I’m in and if the stress tests and cardiograms and scans and monitors haven’t sent my blood pressure through the roof , not to mention the cost of the fuel to drive to and from all these clinics, I may be around for awhile yet. Of course, at the rate I’m getting things done, it won’t be much benefit but I can perhaps annoy my kids a bit longer. Come to think of it, I may have spent more on fuel per capita than the carloads of Londoners driving to and from Mississippi!

My son and his wife have discovered that their expected second child is a brother for their daughter. I hope he’s just like my son and I plan to stick around to watch him handle a knockout teenage girl and a boy like himself. Paybacks are a bitch!  Just thinking about it makes me almost cackle! On the down side, for the first time in my life I actually wish I were rich so I could help them with the cost of major renovation on their small suburban Toronto home. 

The shape I’m in may be going to change – for the better, I hope, for a change. The internist conducting all the tests is going to try pretty hard to convince me to have bariatric surgery and I’ve been impressed with him so I can’t entirely discount his advice in spite of having put the idea behind me a couple of years back after pretty intensive research. I’ve been keeping a food journal of sorts in preparation for the preparation as I find myself more inclined to go for it this time. I keep thinking why didn’t I do it years ago but that’s not a valid argument for not doing it now. I’m not as old as I often feel and might feel younger if I weren’t lugging a couple of hundred extra pounds around. (There’s a reason my heart is strong.) The other factor is that I wouldn’t actually have “qualified” until fairly recently nor liked the odds for success. They’ve made some pretty impressive strides and I can even have it done in Detroit with the long preparation done in Windsor which means a lot of commuting but at least no prolonged residence in another city or even country. I am at least inclined to listen to the doctor and maybe make a start as I will get older whether or not I get slimmer and might keep doing so longer in the latter case. 

I’ve done a bit of culling and filing and organizing in the studio but haven’t anything pretty or unusual or even ghastly to display. I’ve been knitting but that’s not looking like much either yet. Mostly I’m just culling and sorting and organizing my head which at least doesn’t show the mess when company comes. Got company coming Tuesday so tomorrow I’ll prepare some foodstuffs and Wednesday I’m back in Windsor again for what I sincerely hope is the last of the tests for awhile. The whooshing sound you hear is that of another week speeding past me.

Something finished

It’s a quilt – machine quilted for sturdiness, bound and everything:

The backing fabric was a bit narrow so I pieced it out by extending the binding  which was itself already pieced.

I quite like it and enjoyed making it. It reminds me somewhat of nautical flags and might be a bit odd for a new baby but will certainly be bright and cheerful and catch the baby’s eye. I may add some more quilting in the broad green border areas but I’ve had enough for now and it will be OK if I don’t. I realize the quilting doesn’t really show up in the photograph but it’s quite utilitarian so you’re not missing much.

Now for my next project . . . .

Actually I’m not sure if it’ll be next but isn’t it ghastly? It’s some mill’s “craft panel” reproduction of Da Vinci and I had to buy one. I ought to have bought several as I could have gotten a ‘challenge” going easily. It’s hard to know quite what one should do with it. There are just so many possibilities! At the moment I’m leaning toward sequins and Tri Chem ballpoint fabric paint tubes. It absolutely requires graffitti in some form and is already so offensive that I can’t even worry about shocking anyone. The thing’s right out there in retail-land for eight lousy bucks, folks!

I’m going to pin it up on my wall where I can live with it for awhile and see what it has to say to me. I do have a lovely comic book style illustrated Bible from which I could decoupage a frame for it . . . .