Friday, August 31, 2007
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
This fun little trip through the alphabet has come to a close. I originally thought I'd run a list here of all the things I thought of after the fact or that I couldn't illustrate--but then I decided that was boring. A picture of Tallulah Mae's tail (post-bath extra-fluffy edition) is much better, no?
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Y is also for "Yippee, I'm almost at the end of the alphabet!"
Monday, August 27, 2007
Happy Birthday, Vivi Sue!!! I love you (and I love this silly photo of you, too!).
Xanadu also refers, of course, to the fabulously cheesy 1980 movie starring Olivia Newton-John and Michael Beck (and Gene Kelly!), set in a roller disco. Love it! Here's a link to a marvelous video from the film . . . tightrope walkers! Zoot-suited dancers! Roller skaters! Neon! Olivia in shiny costumes! Ah, good times.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Saturday, August 25, 2007
V is for vegetarian, too. I'm one, my husband is not, and it's all good.
("V" is also for Vivi Sue, who's about to have a birthday . . . )
Oh, and "W" is for wax heads (under what other circumstances could I EVER possibly post this picture from Madame Tussaud's in London?!).
Whew, almost done with the alphabet! (Hey, another "W"!).
Friday, August 24, 2007
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Oh, and "T" is for Tallulah toes . . .
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
S is for sewing (check out this darling little child-sized sewing machine!). My mom is a marvelous seamstress, and she used to make many of my clothes and her own clothes, too--she made herself the most amazing purple (!) lace evening pantsuit (bell bottoms, almost tunic-y top). Wow! The dress below is what has come to be known in my family as The Dress. It's my senior prom dress, and the photo doesn't do it justice: ruffle after ruffle after ruffle. She stayed up night after night just to finish it. (My prom date has been edited out: first of all, privacy and all that, and secondly, he looks decidedly less than thrilled to be there (I asked him, so . . . high school, bah).
Sadly, despite her skills, I never did learn how to sew, and I never took Home Ec. I took lessons a few years ago and I really really liked it (though I struggled with aspects of it), and then I put the machine away and haven't really touched it since. Sigh. But I will, one of these days (really, I will!). Don't know if I'll ever be able to make a ruffledy dress, but a totebag, perhaps? A girl can dream!
I do sew by hand, though, and I really love doing it. This WIP (that stands for "work in progress" for all you non-craft-blog folks) is a little felt Scottie, a baby gift. I'll show it again when it's finished, and I'll link to the pattern, kindly posted on the blog Allsorts, one of my favorites (note to self: add to Links list)--if you start poking around her blog, be warned: much cuteness ahead!
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
And "R" is also for ribbon. Everything I said above about rick-rack is also true for ribbon. And I have a LOT of it, also. Oh yeah. Grosgrain, sateen, jacquard, satin, Tyrolean--it's all good.
And radios--I have such nostalgia for how things sound on radio. I have a distinct and happy memory of being with my Grandpa as he listened to Cincinnati Reds games on the radio. The crack of the bat, the roar of the crowd--it's so much better to hear it than to see it, I think; I get a warm fuzzy feeling when I happen across a game on the car radio. I also remember lying in the sun or lounging in the pool while listening to AM Top 40 radio--to this very model, in fact. "Hooked on a Feelin'" or "Bad, Bad Leroy Brown," or "Brandy (You're a Fine Girl)," anyone?
Monday, August 20, 2007
Ginormous talking lumberjacks not your thing? How about the Oregon Vortex and House of Mystery (there seems to be a mysterious thing going on here). I have to say, it was weird--I don't get it! Ooh, spooky . . .
There's no mystery here: it's quite simply "The World's Largest Wood Building."
We go from very large to very small (and a wee bit disturbing, quite frankly) at the Enchanted Forest in Salem, Oregon. Doesn't Little Miss Muffet look a wee bit disheveled (and short legged)? This little attractions is home of one the most amazing displays we've ever seen: the Dancing Fountains, l ocated more or less in the snack bar, were basically synchronized lawn sprinklers with colored lights shining on them in time to music. It was marvelous! No, really, you've got to love and appreciate such things . . .
And let's end this quirky travelogue with Zig Zag Zoo, one man's fantasy land of, um stuff, set up in his front yard near Newport, Oregon. Toilet seats are a favorite material--and really, why not?
Sunday, August 19, 2007
. . . Parrots? Parties? Puppies (well, yes, always, but not this time)? No, "P" is for Parents. We all have them, and if we're lucky, we get a set like mine. Along with B., my parents are probably my very biggest fans--always have been and always will be--and that means a lot (and meant a lot when I was an unpopular, tall, gawky kid in glasses). In ways big and small, in ways far too numerous to list, they've always been there for me. Not that things were ALWAYS perfect and peaceful (two more "p"s!), but on the whole, my childhood and adolescence were pretty wonderful.
My mom--that's her above, with my older brother as a six-month-old--and I are so very much alike in so many ways. We joke that we share the little-known "Little Debbie" gene because my late grandma, my mom, and I all love Little Debbie oatmeal creme pies (junk food extraordinaire, yum)--and that's only the beginning of the traits (good and bad, I think) that we have in common.
What can I say about my father? There he is up there in his natty plaid blazer and flat-top, in the mid-sixties. He's one of a kind, that's for sure. Among other things, I share his, shall we say, rather (ahem) prominent schnozz, as well as the uncanny ability to recognize actors in old movies (for instance, something like "Look, that's Robert Redford when he was twelve")--it's a gift! I always used to say that he could do anything, fix anything, etc., and I still proudly proclaim my everlasting status as a "Daddy's girl."
So, in a nutshell, without going on or becoming too sentimental or maudlin, "P" is for parents--I love mine dearly and hope that you love yours, too. Have you talked to your parents lately? Go on, call your mom!
(P.S.: I know that some of my sweet friends have lost one or both of their parents, but I also know how much they love, present tense, their parents. Even if you can't physically call your parents, send out a spiritual phone call to them . . . )
Saturday, August 18, 2007
Friday, August 17, 2007
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Ah, libraries--can't you almost smell that fabulous masses-o-books smell from here? Mmmm...
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Monday, August 13, 2007
"Hello, Jack called--he'd like his beanstalk back . . . "
"J" is for Jack and the Beanstalk, which is seemingly being enacted in my cutting garden courtesy of this plant. It came up all on its own, not planted by me--and now we have eight-plus feet of mystery, growing ever taller. If I see a giant's hand reaching down, I'll be sure to photograph it and do a blog post about it . . .
Oh, and "J" is for Jeopardy! (that exclamation point is really part of its name): I was on it last December . . . but only one show, so you know what THAT means.
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Friday, August 10, 2007
The picture above is from Buena Creek Gardens. I love the rusty birdcage . . .
Note that "G is for Gardens," not Gardening, about which I wax and wane. I do love to garden--to plant, to water, even to weed; I'm fascinated by seeds and love to watch them germinate and sprout their tiny leaves--but I hate to prune, and I am quite hung up about planting something and then fretting about whether it was the right thing to plant, in the right spot, etc. Then I take a deep breath and realize that gardens are constantly changing, growing, and dying, and no garden is ever permanent--nor should it be. So maybe "G" is for gardens, gardening, and grace.
Oh: and "G" is for Gnomes . . .