Lego Mania!

Oh my god. I wish I liked to play chess. Witness! The Lego Chess set. Wow. Look at the cute little dwarves, wizards, and skeletons!

I think it’s really interesting what Lego has become. So many of the miniatures are so beautiful and clever now, like the Viking sets or Harry Potter. They look like so much fun. And since I engage in a surprising amount of playing when no one is watching, I can totally appreciate them. I do hope the original building sets are available. We had so much fun with those.

We had the standard pack with 200 or so pieces. All three kids played with it so a considerable amount of pieces were forever lost in the shaggy rya rug in the dining room. Nothing hurts so much as stepping on one of those single peg pieces in your bare feet.

I think there were some illustrations on the box of what you could make, but don’t recall ever following them. I made a lot of houses, gardens, cars, and crates for small plastic animals. I do recall we had only two axles and four wheels of varying sizes, so one’s motorcraft was somewhat unraceable. We had a marvelous time with them.

One sore spot was the lack of female lego figures, however. I am glad they remedied that because I distinctly recall arguing with a boy in kindergarten that because my lego guy was a girl, she needed to have the the little red hard hat to tuck her hair under. Bowed over by this impeccable logic, he gave in and presented me with the helmet.

Legos are made in Denmark, I believe, and one of the big adventures most Scandinavian families have is a trip to Legoland in Jutland. They have various play areas and huge sculptures made entirely of legos. Interestingly, one is about to open in Schaumburg near the Ikea. I keep telling Knut that Scandinavia is coming to him!

Who Ya Gonna Call?

I love the movie Ghostbusters. I was only 4 when it came out and hadn’t seen many movies in theaters at all. In fact, this is the first film I remember going to.

Yes, children, believe it or not there was a time not too long ago before VCRs, DVDs, and on demand TV. If you missed the last few minutes of a film on tv, you might never find out how it ended. Scary, huh?

Ghostbusters does sound a little intense for a child so young, but I was insistent! I remember sitting on the swing outside of my uncle’s house while my father explained the premise (he and my brothers had gone to see it). He said that these ghostbusters captured ghosts in a tiny capsule. I was hooked.

So eventually, when it came to the Pickwick (which was a 3rd run theater at the time. I think a ticket was $1.50) I was taken to see it!

The bliss!

Except for one part. Right at the beginning, our heroes are called to investigate a ghost sighting at the Public Library. She is a transparent torso of an elderly lady. When Venkman tries to speak to her, she looks up from her book, raises a finger to her lips, and shushes him.

Venkmen backs away and confers with the Spengler and Stantz. Stantz says “Leave it me” and then shouts “Get her!” while the trio rushed forwards. The lady ghost turns towards them.

And then!

Mom claps her hand over my eyes.

I have a vision of a white flash, but don’t see what happened.

This haunted me. My imagination created a grotesque twisted skeletal creature with a skull like an elongated bowling pin. And then my imagination gave me nightmares.

It wasn’t until several years later that I saw the film again and saw that the library ghost turns into this rather charming ghoul. She’s actually sort of cute. I actually tense up a little bit at that part, remembering the twisted being of my imagination and am always relieved it’s not there.

Dogs, Monkeys, Groundhogs

This weekend’s plans:
1. Dog Beach (Knut went yesterday, met three baby Cavaliers. I stayed home because he was a little bit grumpy. Darn it!). Will attempt to wade with Colin. Colin has previously shown no interest in swimming. I’m hoping peer pressure is the answer.

2. Awesome party at Cynthia and Steffi’s. Here’s the text from the invitation:

"God vs. the Monkeys -
We're having a party! For no particular reason, although it happens to fall on the same date that the Scopes "Monkey" Trial came to a close in 1925. To honor this this original showdown between the Creationists and the Evolutionists, we'll be serving up some brass monkeys and -- for those who remain faithful to Genesis -- some sour apple cocktails. Also feel free to BYOB (the B standing, of course, for Bonobos and Bibles, though Beer is okay too).

So come over next Friday to reconnect with your inner primate and nourish your jungle roots. We don't know exactly how the night will turn out, but we imagine it will look something like this: www.youtube.com/watch?v=YKXqqjhnOhM"

Looking forward to that! My favorite part of their parties is Knut sitting and being admired by super cute lesbians because he’s strong enough to open the hatch to the roof. It’s far too adorable.

3. Road trip to Woodstock. To Woodstock, IL not the 1969 Music Festival. I do not expect The Who to be there. Although that would be awesome! Woodstock is where they filmed Groundhog Day. It’s also the hometown of the creator of Dick Tracey. I’ve heard there’s a little Dick Tracey museum. We basically just feel like getting out of the city.

I don’t know what we’ll do on Sunday yet. Probably early preparations for the Norwegians who will be coming on Thursday. Right! I almost forgot to ask to borrow sheets and pillows from my folks!

Thank You For Being a Friend

Estelle Getty died today.

If you weren’t a fan, she played “Sophia” on The Golden Girls. The Golden Girls featured the antics of Dorothy, Rose, Blanche, and Sophia as they zipped around Miami and dated an endless parade of trim balding men.

The point was that it was a sit com about women who were over 50! And people loved it!

In our household, Mom and I would air pop popcorn in the microwave, cover it in melted butter and settle down in the kitchen to watch on the tiny nine inch screen. I always imagined them to be old, but when I became an adult, I was shocked to realize that they actually weren’t that old. Not old enough for Social Security or Medicare, but old enough to have adult children and dead husbands. An interesting and frequently forgotten segment of the population.

Mom really admired Bea Arthur. T think the idea of a tall handsome woman with dark eyebrows and graying hair appealed to her—since she fits that description as well. She also really liked the clothes but when I’ve watched it recently the amount of caftans, scrunch boots, and endless layers is a little overwhelming.

Let’s see which plots I remember… Dorothy gets Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (is that still around? It was the hot disease then), Rose experiences ageism, they buy condoms, they all pose nude for a sculpture, one of them has a pregnant unmarried daughter, Stan comes to recover from an illness, the piano playing chicken. Oh! I bet I know all the words to the song they wrote for the Miami Song Contest!

I have to say what I feel…
Miami has great appeal…
A good place for a seafood meal…

Miami, Miami
You’ve Got Style!
Blue skies, sunshine, white sands by the mile

If you live in this town, you’ll have a great time
The coldest of winters is warm and divine!

Awww.. that’s all I remember! I did find a link though!

A Taste of…?

My hometown celebrated a special event last weekend called “Taste of Park Ridge.” “Taste ofs” usually offer small portions of food in an outdoor fair-like atmosphere.

The best is Stavanger’s “Glad Mat” (literally means “Happy Food”) which is situated on Stavanger’s gorgeous harbor and offers lots of very adult fare like raw oysters, grilled half lobster, beautifully presented French desserts, champagne, mussels, wild boar sandwiches, and fresh fruits. Mind you, Knut and I spent a fortune there. Eating out is a huge gamble in Norway because it’s so expensive that it’s a giant disappointment if the food isn’t good. It’s heartbreaking to blow a month’s free money on a curry containing chewy mutton instead of tender lamb, so we’d just go to the same few places we knew were delicious. Glad Mat was just a few dollars for a small piece so if it was awful (I recall having the world’s worst nan bread there. How did they manage that?) you just tossed it in a bin.

Taste of Chicago is huge and used to be a wonderful event. When it began really nice restaurants like Bob Chinn’s offered small portions of garlic shrimp and you could stroll around munching shark or alligator. It was a tidy crowd who enjoyed sampling many things. Now it’s largely ghetto teenagers and the stalls are almost entirely pizza sellers. The one stand out in the last two years I went was a tiny crayfish boil in a Dixie cup. That was fantastic. It was three crayfish, a bit of potato, and a piece of corn cob all simmered in delicious spicy seasonings.

Taste of Park Ridge is definitely smaller scale and it’s almost totally locals. Many of the local restaurants had booths up selling Italian Ice, funnel cakes, pad thai,, tacos, etc. The stand out was a booth called Applause Catering. They had pulled pork and brisket sandwiches that were meltingly good, roasted corn on the cob, and homemade potato chips. I asked my mother who they were and she told me it was the man who provided the food for the local retirement hotel! Who would have guessed?!

They also had live music which in this case was an ABBA tribute band. As you can see from the photo, there wasn’t too much resemblance to ABBA. The blonde was very short and I couldn’t figure out where the second guy was. The women’s voices were also a bit on the heavy side, without that oh so Scandinavian brittleness. Mind you, the crowd had a great time. I just feel Knut and I can do “Tiger” just as well.

Household Engineering Challenge

We have the greatest kitchen table. It’s actually a vintage drafting table in excellent condition. It’s got a heavy wood top and a metal base enameled in John Deere green. And it still works.

Possibly a little too well.

In fact, one side of the table wobbles when you lean on it. The left side, which is the that’s meant to tip down to the floor, falls about an inch and a half when pressure is applied. The right side remains stable when pressure is applied. This is a problem given that Knut and my father are huge elbow leaners. The only way to get around it was to have both men sitting opposite of each other, which works fine until one gets up. This was especially noticeable during Easter Egg dying.

So I’ve been thinking of a mechanical means to brace it, but I would definitely like to preserve the drafting function. So far, I’ve thought of mounting an extra leg that could swing out (like an old fashioned gaming table) or having a wholly separate pedestal that we could just slide under when we’re using the whole table (right now the wobbly side is pressed against a wall to hold it steady, which works very well.)

However, any engineering expertise would be appreciated!

FOGHORN Returns!

The Foghorn Magazine has returned!

And it comes bearing a new article by.... wait for it...

ME!!

If you want to read the sort of bloody curdling tales my darling mother reveals, read CHEERFULLY MORBID at the Foghorn Magazine. 

I guarantee you'll be shocked and amazed at what people in Crookston, MN in the 1950s got up to!

The Joys of Fireworks

Since it’s the 4^th of July tomorrow, I was thinking about the fun we used to have when we’d go to 7-11 to buy Snap Caps, Smoke Bombs, Snakes, and Witch Whistles. They started selling small fireworks like that in mid June and it was a time of excitement! My brothers kindly always bought me some of the girly fireworks like poppers and sparklers too. I love this Black Cat logo, but we never had that kind of fire power until we were adults.

The Smoke Bombs could be set off anywhere it was amusing to have a cloud of green smelly smoke. I do recall that you couldn’t throw them because they were made of something like pressed sawdust and would disintegrate upon impact. And it was hard to relight the pieces.

Snap caps were generally reserved for stomping on in the driveway, but we did occasionally put them under the tires of the neighbor’s cars. They never noticed. You could also pop ‘em between your fingers, which hurt a bit but was totally worth it to see other kids’ expressions. The really brave kids (I think Jamie did this) would pop snap caps with their teeth, which is probably not a hugely clever idea.

Snakes are interesting. They were these little black tablets and when you touched a lighted match to a side long coils of stinky black ash would push forth, looking appropriately like snakes. You got maybe 18 inches of ash from a tablet the size of antacid. They were pretty cool and left permanent char marks on the front steps.

The Witch Whistles were the most memorable. They were these orange waxy tiny rockets, about the size of a golf pencil, and when they flew off they emitted a high pitched screech that was highly appreciated by the adults in the neighborhood. We would set them off in the alley and every so often they’d backfire and we’d go tumbling out of the way. Good times! Once in a while we’d try experiments with them like, could you tie one to a popper and have it pull the string? They never worked, but we were all very good in high school Physics.

Sparklers were just for pretty, mostly, and running around with after dark.

That was fun. Knut and I checked and they don’t sell any of those things any more, not even Sparklers. In fact, the Park Ridge Fire Department sign now reads “Protect your family and friends by avoiding fireworks and sparklers.” You know, in case you stick one in your eye or something.

I think that’s sort of sad. I mean, I suppose we could have gotten burns or cause minor property damage, but it was so interesting! You got to experiment with something and cut it apart to see how it works and learned what it could do.

I feel a little bad for today’s kids. Many of the parents I know are scared to let them out of the house or do anything even a tiny bit dangerous. They probably don’t have much alternative to video games or tv.

Life and Death of Peanut Men

I’ve always been crafty.

Mom is always amazed when she sees bored children since we were always investigating _something_. Jamie and I made quite excellent volcanoes in the sandbox with the garden hose (Mom built the sandbox! It’s genetic!) and Tom pretty consistently took every mechanical thing we own apart to see how it worked. I once tasted every flower in the backyard except for the dreaded deadly nightshade. Begonias are sweet and juicy. Tulips taste bitter and waxy, which is fortunate because they’re poisonous.

I also invented a weird gel by mixing white glue, washing powder, and spray starch. This had a strange gummy consistency but only stuck to itself. Very peculiar, but I recreated it several times. I believe it may have been a colloid.

I had a couple of craft books for kids (I was born in 1980, but most of the toys we played with were late 1970s) that featured kids in groovy outfits building exciting things. I can still feel the longing to create a life sized alligator out of paper mache and chicken wire, just like in the photos. They did have some smaller scale projects including peanut men.

Peanut men, or ladies, take advantage of the usual bi-legume peanut shell shape. To make, draw a little face on the upper half of the peanut shell. Add eyelashes or curly hair lines if the peanut exudes a feminine mystique. Stick a toothpick through the join of the two nuts for arms. Cut another toothpick in half and stick the two halves into the bottom shell for legs. Then find two single nut peanuts and stick them onto the leg picks. If you balance correctly (always a tricky situation for the under 10s) they’ll stand up.

I made a whole set of these on a hot summer afternoon and left them on a paper plate near the TV in the kitchen for the family to admire. The flaw here is that these people are made of delicious salted in the shell roast peanuts.

When I got up the next morning, disaster! Peanut shells and toothpick legs were spread with wild abandon. Salty carnage, the peanut men had been savaged by hungry dads during the night.

Where's my Pickinic Basket?!

We’re off to Ravinia two times this week. Ravinia is a music pavillion in the northern suburbs of Chicago, but the key thing about it is that it has lawn seating. People come bearing picnics and blankets (and everyone over 40 brings camp chairs, which seem to lose the spirit of the thing to me, but I suppose it’s helpful for the rheumantism) and settle down to enjoy live music piped over the large leafy park.

I had two New Years Resolutions this year:

1. Take more photos

2. Have more picnics

We never did much in the way of picnics as a child. If fact, if we went to Ravinia, we usually brought a bucket of fried chicken. However, in Norway, picnics became something of a necessity to us. Eating out is very expensive and there aren’t too many places to do it. So, when we would take advantage of the 10 pound Ryan Air deals out of Haugesund, we would drive an hour or so through the tunnels and ferries with a packed lunch, to be enjoyed whereever space was available and/or scenic.

I got it down to a science. The archetypical Sjurseth picnic consisted of:

Sandwiches: a baguette filled with roasted deli chicken, salami, letttuce, paper thin sliced tomatoes, oregano, and dressed with vinegar and oil. Sliced into individual portions.
Sorlands Chips: Yummy Norwegian kettle cooked chips with Salt and Pepper
Apples: 2
Clementines: 4
Bottled Water
Coke

Dessert: Cookies if a special occasion, candy bars if not

This is a lot of food and we didn’t necessarily eat it all in one go, but it’s very nice to know there are tasty available sandwiches when it’s 11pm in rural Lutheran Norway and you aren’t even sure if the gas stations are open. Normally, I would pack it in two small mesh Old Navy Halloween bags (which got a lot of attention in Norway), but we have a cute little picnic backpack that Knut carries around sometimes. It even has a wine caddy and a cheese board.

I think for our Ravinia trips we’ll probably be a bit more formal. Everyone keeps talking about cold chicken and potato salad, which are very fine picnic foods indeed.

THANKSGIVING Beer Bottle Cap Pies

I’m a big fan of Thanksgiving.

I like the whole concept of a day where you bring your family around and cook all day and then you eat when it’s all ready.

When I was a kid, we spent every Thanksgiving in Minneapolis, where a big dinner was followed closely by the pre Christmas trip to Daytons! Minnesota didn’t have sales tax, so a good little bunny could hope for a few presents. In fact, I got my very first gingerbread house kit on one of these excursions.

Obviously, it was a good move to judge by my turn to built gingerbread staburs and igloos. Maybe next Christmas I should do a gingerbread pig sty to house the darling marzipan pigs… Hmmm…

In any case, the highlight of Thanksgiving was always the pies! Mom and I are good pie bakers and there was a Trinity of Autumn flavors: Pumpkin, Pecan, and Apple. I’ve faithfully recreated them in a medium more likely to last past the holidays.

Behold!

Pumpkin pie is the classic staple. I’ll admit we always used canned pumpkin, but the results were creamy and rich. This miniature pie is filled with glossy reddish brown polymer clay custard and topped with a decadent swirl of whipped cream.
Pecan pie was preferable made with pecans straight from my aunt’s family home in Alabama. This bottle cap pie does have a layer of polymer clay caramel topped with individually made and detailed pecan halves. The glossy sweet look comes courtesy of syrupy glaze.

Apple Pie was our branch’s specialty. We made the real ones with Jonathans or Macintoshes we picked each year in Wisconsin. These little beauties are polymer clay segments held in with tinted glaze. The effect is completely that of a warm oozy apple pie.

Like the other ones, these are made in beer bottle caps, so they’re very small and have a little magnet affixed to the back. They’re now up on Etsy

http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=12476951

To Do List

Gosh, I am all over the place today.

I was knocked out yesterday with a sinus headache (I think I was only awake for half hour intervals) but am now feeling cheerful again.

My agenda:

Take photos of the new beer bottle cap pies. Exciting new flavors! Coming SOON!

Pot flowers for Mom and Dad (Mom and I shopped for plants in a a downpour. Nothing will keep me from buying pentunias! NOTHING!! When I still lived at home I would always get a few interesting plants like chenille or candy corn plants, but now that I only go to look after things, we buy low maitenence plants. Mom has a charming lady of the manor style. She loves flowers and gardens, but hates being in the sun or digging in the dirt. I also cleared and mulched around the roses. Right now the phlox and bluebells are threatening to overrun the place. It’s very nice now because we have those big light resin pots. I just pot ‘em up and put them around the perimeter. Add some hanging plants on garden hooks and the phlox is free to run wild. Looks very pretty.)

Post pies to etsy.

How much of this will I get done? That’s always the mystery!

Mushroom Mania!

I am not hunting Smurfs in this picture. I was never very clear on what purpose Gargamel had in mind for them.

In fact, I never knew this mushroom existed in reality before a few years ago!

It’s very prevalent in fairy tale illustrations, Christmas decorations, and, of course, as Smurf domiciles. However, I always thought they were strictly a flight of fancy. I should have known, too, because I spent a childhood obsessed with fungi. There’s a certain area next door to my parents’ home that sprang up a lovely crop of white toadstool after summer rains. I’d harvest these mushrooms, smush them into paste and pretend to feed them to my stuffed animals. I did this sort of thing with a great variety of garden plants—tulips, berries, begonia leaves, horse chestnuts, etc. I was always careful to avoid the nightshade growing all over the back fence because my father assured me it could kill little girls.

Naturally, it wasn’t until I was an adult that I learned just how poisonous most of the other plants I played were. How on earth did I survive into adulthood?

Anyway, these cute little guys spring up all around Northern Europe. In Norway they’re called “fluesopp” or “fly mushroom.” Knut tried explaining that people used to think they were the source of fly larva? Who knows? Their caps can grow to about the size of a spread hand and they’re generally jolly and cute. They’re also exceedingly poisonous. Knut informs me that Vikings used to take a tiny nibble just before battle to fuel their berserker rages. Apparently they trigger some sort of nasty hallucinogenic reaction—not for recreational use! As a result, Knut and I referred to them as “insanity mushrooms.”

Because I was so taken with them (Norway is an awesome source for fungi. We used to go on fungus walks in the Fall.), I had to show them to any Americans who visited. No one else knew they really existed either!

My mom still refers to these as “insanity mushrooms” which makes it very amusing when we shop for Christmas ornaments.

Snuggly Warm Beauty

My mother and I went to the Quilt Show last weekend. No wait! Don’t click away! It’s actually pretty cool.

This particular show is an international event showcasing the giants of the field. Instead of cozy bedcovers, many of them make extraordinary collages made of fabric. They show a truly amazing grasp of color and form. Examine this rooster. He was the Grand Prize Winner. Everything you see here is sewn. The wood texture is created by using tiny scraps and the suggestion of feathers is the stitching. It is also, coincidently, made by a man.

I always look forward to the Japanese entries. The one with the violins is a beautiful interpretation of a photo quilt. Up at the top little photo printed fabric squares form a ribbon. The flower petals on the violins and the border are all meticulously cut and appliquéd. Photo quilts are often only appealing to those who are featured in them, but this is genuinely fantastic work.

This quilt also inspired my first homicidal reaction of the show. While I was examining it, a grisly little woman comes up, looks at the miniscule appliqué and loudly remarks “Someone has too much time on their hands!”

I hate that!

Every man, woman, and child has exactly 24 hours in their day. Some choose to spend that time playing video games or giving themselves French manicures with white out. Others chose to devote their time to making art. I always resent that comment.

There are plenty of less spectacular entries, of course. We looked at many small single square works. These usually aren’t so great, although they frequently involve some shocking imagery. My mother, a gifted seamstress, commented that examining these was a lot like looking at the 4-H displays at the county fair. Assuming 4-H kids made 8 inch square fabric panels about genocide or abortion.

The best part, of course, is the vendors. I personally spent $70 on Japanese fabric printed with adorable little bunnies. I’m pretending now that I will use it for something. Chances are I’ll just keep it and look at it, like Smaug and his hoard.

So Miss Sewing

A little while ago, I tugged Knut’s heart strings when I called him from work and told him I wanted to go home and sew.

I really miss sewing and it’s not something I’ve been able to do much lately. In fact, right now I’m wearing pants that I’ve been meaning to remove the pockets from since I bought them!

For one thing, it’s hard to judge colors correctly under artificial light. Purples can look brown, navy can look black. And when you’re tired you make mistakes. It’s also a more expensive hobby that playing with polymer clay or shrinky dinks! People don’t understand that once you’ve bought all the materials necessary to sew something by hand, it’s often more expensive than buying a Chinese made mass produced item. If you’re a non sewing person, that's why a person might wrinkle their nose when you say “$40! You could make that!”

What I love doing is making these luxurious patchwork lap quilts. I used leftover bits of all the gorgeous materials my mother has used over the years. They contain silks, velvets, satins, high quality polyesters (which can be as fine as silk and more expensive!), wools, brocades, and anything else we have lying around. Some of the fabric is more than 50 years old.

Normally, I sewed the patchwork, added the borders (I like to use nice velveteen for this. It’s sturdy, turns great corners, and feels good), layered the backing and batting, tie it, and then bind the edges.

The particular quilt in the photo is one I made for my mom for Christmas one year. This turned a little different. I chose a beautiful rust panne velvet for the borders and turned the patchwork into a diamond pattern to make it a little more special.

Yikes!

This was a challenge. The velvet was super slippery and the pattern meant I really couldn’t machine sew it easily. Welcome to Baste City. I had to do it all by hand. And when you’re trying to do something like that by laying it out on the floor, naturally a fluffy little dog find it the nicest place to have a little nap. He seems to prefer good quality fabrics.

Ahhh.. memories. One day soon I'll whip out that little machine :)

Daddy's Girl

I have a brother. He used to be 6 feet 7 inches of Rompin’ Stompin’ Rugby Playin’ Law Professing Power.

These days he’s 6 feet 7 inches of Rompin’ Stompin’ Rugby Playin’ Law Professing Daddy Power.

Fortunately, he and his wife are generous enough to share lots of pictures of their beautiful daughter and the adventures their little family takes. I just love the photos of teeny girlish Rosemary nestling snuggly against his giganto chest in her carrier. She looks so thoroughly delighted with the world and her place in it. It’s good to have a daddy. Very good.

Looking at these photos, I started thinking of other daddys. A certain one sprang to mind.

Voila!

If you’re not marine biologically inclined, there are certain species of seahorses where the male carries the female’s eggs in a special pouch. When the young hatch he contracts his pouch and the babies swim out into the open sea. As a result of this excellent daddy-ship, seahorse babies have a higher rate of survival compared to fish, where many eggs are eaten before the young hatch.

This design was sketched by me and then colored in Photoshop. The original was put onto a baby t-shirt for Rosemary, but I’m considering adding it to my etsy shop.

Here’s to you, James! And to Excellent Daddys Everywhere!

Maybe It Skips a Generation?

I’ve never really looked like anybody. I could never borrow someone else’s ID in high school or college (so I could rent a floor buffer and similar) because no one very looked vaguely enough like me that a bouncer, sorry, Home Depot rental representative, would ever accept the ID. I also don’t particularly look like any celebrities (which is a mixed blessing. I certainly don’t want to be a dead ringer for Tommy Lee).

There’s even been a fair argument about which side of the family I look like. Then last week, my mom whips out this photo.

Apparently I’m my own grandma.

I know how Fry feels in Roswell That Ends Well.

That’s me on the right if you couldn’t tell by the non-marcelled hair. The woman on the left is my grandmother, Annette Cameron nee Larson. Here I was looking Norwegian the whole time and I never realized it.
Man, they took awesome photos back then. Look at the painted background! Look at that gorgeous cowl neck.

*sigh*

I took mine myself in the bathroom.

Adventures in Easter Themed Baking Part 1

My great aunt, who is now in her nineties, used to bake lamb cakes every Easter when she was a young and spry (like in her 70s). Lovely ones filled with spice cake, cream cheese frosting, coconut fleece, and currant eyes. I think she sometimes even put a ribbon around it's neck. Beautiful and delicious.

Two years ago for my birthday, Mom got me a cast iron rabbit cake mold. We couldn't find it last year for Easter, but now I've got it. I'm going to make one!

I'm petrified.

More updates throughout the day!

PS. This lamb cake is from here:http://annhetzelgunkel.com/easter/lambcake.html

Not Aunt Edna's actual lamb cake. Maybe Mom has a photo somewhere...

Dog Flowers

Quite a while ago, one of my co-workers forwarded me some really darling photos of an Asian woman holding a bouquet of flowers shaped like a little dog.

They were adorable!

So I figured I had a challenge.

I decided my mother had to have one for Valentine's day. I bought one bouquet of butter colored mums and one mixed bouquet from the supermarket and went home to experiment.

Okay, these are not easy to make! I needed to sort through all the mums to find ones that are not only the right shape, but lie correctly together. I ended up wiring them together with pipecleaners (which turned out to be a good choice. They didn't bruise the stems and allowed little spaces between them). The nose and mouth are bits of Fimo molded into shape and attached to 1" long wires, which were them stuck into the hearts of the flowers. I surrounded the mum dog with the mixed bouquet and tied a ribbon around the neck of the vase.

Mom loved it and kept referring to it as "Colin." Colin is my little spaniel.

Amazingly, the dog part outlived the rest of the flowers! This last photo is taken two weeks after Valentine's and he still looks good.

Spending $7 to make something that looked like it came from an

expensive florist is pretty nifty. :)

Computer Generated Onesies

Wow, that sounds like some kind of cyber baby thing, doesn’t it?

Before I started on the animal puns onesies, I made these little animals on Photoshop. I like working with photoshop for these things because it’s so easy to go back and personalize things. For instance, I made a little dog with fluffy ears to represent my Cavalier, Colin. Then I changed the colors to honey blonde to represent my friend’s mixed breed (she’s golden retriever, dashund, and cocker spaniel. A craxy mix, but she looks like a teeny golden) dog, Bella, and added eyelashes and a pink heart around it. Then I took that image, darkened it and took away the eyelashes to represent my brother’s dog, Xialoum, and added the legend “Food Rival” underneath.

A tip for Photoshop users—the shape library includes a bunch of bananas. Turn ‘em sideways and they make terrific eyelashes.

Rosemary is modeling one of the little monkey onesies. For her, I added in “Property of Shing Mun Reservoir.” Shing Mun was a favorite spot of my brother’s and sister in law’s when they lived in Hong Kong. Shing Mun had lots of macaques and Jamie made up a little story about them.

Once when Jamie and Mina were in Shing Mun, they were stopped at the gates. They wouldn’t let Mina go home because they were convinced she was a monkey. Mina had to stay there with the rest of the monkeys, but Jamie and their daughter promised to visit once a week.

I have no idea if either of them actually remembers this story, but I certainly did! So when Rosemary was born, I figured she would need something like this.

This is the danger of telling me anything. It'll eventually end up on a t-shirt.