Easter
Lily in Autumn
Ellen Tsagaris' The Bathory Chronicles; Vol. I Defiled is My Name
With Love From Tin Lizzie
Metal Heads, Metal Dolls, Mechanical Dolls and Automatons
The Legend of Tugfest
Dr. E is the Editor and A Contributor; proceeds to aid the Buffalo Bill Museum
Emma
Like My Spider
It's Halloween!
Moth
Our Friend
Little Girl with Doll
16th C. Doll
A Jury of her Peeps
"Peep Show" shadow box
Crowded Conditions
Opie Cat's Ancestors
Current Cat still Sleeps on Victorian Doll Bed with Dolls!
First Thanksgiving Dinner
Included goose and swan on the menu!
Autumn Still Life
public domain
Boadicea
The Original Bodacious Woman
Angel Monument
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Saturday, February 18, 2012
Miss Charlotte Bronte meets Miss Barbara Pym: The Woman in Black
Miss Charlotte Bronte meets Miss Barbara Pym: The Woman in Black: I am dying to see this film, and I would love to hear from anyone who has. It is based on a book by Susan Hill, who wrote a sequel to Rebec...
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
How Water is Used and Eddy Magazine
August 2011 Readers Digest had a good cover story on the use and sustainability of water. Eddy magazine, about local waters, fishing, and living green, had a good article with tips on green gardening which I will soon share. It is almost tha time, and I gave my friend two kinds of pumpkin seeds for Valentine's Day.'
Happy Valentine's Day to all. Despite the hype out there, collect what you love within your means, and keep recylcing. If you ahve a plce to store things for crafts, do it. Schools love clean supplies, and even literary characters like Wanda in Broken for You learn to make collage out of garbage and mosaic out of broken china. My friened JOM here makes dolls and figures out of found objects, and I am the proud owner of one of them. Read my previous post on Pym. You'll get the idea.
Happy Valentine's Day to all. Despite the hype out there, collect what you love within your means, and keep recylcing. If you ahve a plce to store things for crafts, do it. Schools love clean supplies, and even literary characters like Wanda in Broken for You learn to make collage out of garbage and mosaic out of broken china. My friened JOM here makes dolls and figures out of found objects, and I am the proud owner of one of them. Read my previous post on Pym. You'll get the idea.
Recycling v. Hoarding? What wouild Miss Pym Say?
Miss Charlotte Bronte meets Miss Barbara Pym: What would Miss Pym and Marcia Say?: I read a blurb in Readers Digest this morning; a woman was worried because her elderly mother was saving cardboard tubes from paper towels. ...
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Where the Sidewalk ends . .
When I was growing up, I had a sidewalk in front of my house. As a 3-4 year old, my domain was the sidewalk, and my reign ended where the sidewalk ended. I was the princess of a long, silver ribbon, and my magic trike took me to the depths. I could run away from home all I wanted, as long as my odyssey ended at the end of the asphalt.
Our sidewalks were beautiful; there were tiny specks of glitter imbedded in some of them, and tiny fragments of agate and shell. Near my grandparents' house, later ours, there was a court, with a sidewalk that wound its way around it. I rollerskated there, and learned to ride my bike, and walked around every day, in all types of weather. I lost my gold tone horseshoe ring, with red stone, From Claire's there. I still walk andhope I'll find it in the cement. We played High Chaparral there, and divided the court in half for our warring factions.
There were sidewalks in California, at my family's "new house," and I walked our dogs there, and skated some more, and took long walks in the cool evenings, musing about the things kids muse about when they grow up. My grandpa used to walk there, wearing a panama hat in the summer. Even after he died, I used to think I still saw him when I walked around and around to all the stores after dinner. My friends lived in grand houses along that sidewalk, and I used to visit them on my walks.
There were sidewalks in Carbondale, near my apartment, and I visited my friend Betsy's gift shop, and ran in breathless one spring day to tell her I passed my dissertation defense. I used to peek in the windows of a law firm situated in Murdale Gardens, and took the sidewalk to the summer concerts in the park, wearing a strapless, bright sundress, young, and carefree. We walked for Cajun food to Mississipp Flyaway, and for capuccino and pastry at Cristaudos. There was Chinese food,and an international grocery store, and the laundromat, where I wrote letters.
I loved sidewalks, and felt safe there. In my element. They were the parameters of my adventures, and the easments to my imagination. I played hopscotch, and rode my pogo stick, and set up play stores there. I trick or treated, and had my first taste of freedom on their slate. Life was good.
Our sidewalks were beautiful; there were tiny specks of glitter imbedded in some of them, and tiny fragments of agate and shell. Near my grandparents' house, later ours, there was a court, with a sidewalk that wound its way around it. I rollerskated there, and learned to ride my bike, and walked around every day, in all types of weather. I lost my gold tone horseshoe ring, with red stone, From Claire's there. I still walk andhope I'll find it in the cement. We played High Chaparral there, and divided the court in half for our warring factions.
There were sidewalks in California, at my family's "new house," and I walked our dogs there, and skated some more, and took long walks in the cool evenings, musing about the things kids muse about when they grow up. My grandpa used to walk there, wearing a panama hat in the summer. Even after he died, I used to think I still saw him when I walked around and around to all the stores after dinner. My friends lived in grand houses along that sidewalk, and I used to visit them on my walks.
There were sidewalks in Carbondale, near my apartment, and I visited my friend Betsy's gift shop, and ran in breathless one spring day to tell her I passed my dissertation defense. I used to peek in the windows of a law firm situated in Murdale Gardens, and took the sidewalk to the summer concerts in the park, wearing a strapless, bright sundress, young, and carefree. We walked for Cajun food to Mississipp Flyaway, and for capuccino and pastry at Cristaudos. There was Chinese food,and an international grocery store, and the laundromat, where I wrote letters.
I loved sidewalks, and felt safe there. In my element. They were the parameters of my adventures, and the easments to my imagination. I played hopscotch, and rode my pogo stick, and set up play stores there. I trick or treated, and had my first taste of freedom on their slate. Life was good.
Memoir; Writing your Life Story: Broken for You
Memoir; Writing your Life Story: Broken for You: This is a wonderful book, written in parts as if it were a memoir, with Margaret, the main character, reviewing her life through her collect...
Monday, February 6, 2012
Doll Museum: Medieval Toys you can Make
Doll Museum: Medieval Toys you can Make: Here is a link for a class on making medieval toyhttp://dollsfromtheattic.blogspot.com/2010/02/medieval-children.htmls. From Stefan's Flor...
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Ways to be Creative
We are now past Groundhog Day; so at most, six weeks of winter. Here, we have had 60 degree temperatures, and none below 40 for some time. Still, with Spring comes everything new, and possibilities. Everyone can have a Renaissance. So, here are 33 Ways to Stay Creative, sent to me anonymously via snail mail;
1. Make lists
2. carrry a notebook everywhere
3. try free writing
4. get away from the computer
5. be otherwordly
6. quit beating yourself up
7. take breaks
8, sing in the shower
9. drink coffee/tea
10. know your roots
11. listen to new music
12. be open [as my husband says, "once a philospher, twice a pervert"
13. surround yourself with creative people
14. get feedback
15. collaborate
16. don't give up
17. practice, practice, practice
18. allow yourself to makemistakes
19. go somewhere new
20. watch foreign films
21. count your blessings
23. take risks
24. break the rules
25. do more of what makes you happy
26. don't force it
27. read a page of the dictionary
28. create a framework
29. stop trying to be someone else's perfect
30. got an idea? write it down.
31. clean your workspace
32 have fun
33. finish something
My hand is bothering me again, so I'm sorry for any typos, but the spirit is there. Today is the 4th memorial for my mother; it will be a difficult day. I thojught of something with something positive that she would approve of. Take care.
1. Make lists
2. carrry a notebook everywhere
3. try free writing
4. get away from the computer
5. be otherwordly
6. quit beating yourself up
7. take breaks
8, sing in the shower
9. drink coffee/tea
10. know your roots
11. listen to new music
12. be open [as my husband says, "once a philospher, twice a pervert"
13. surround yourself with creative people
14. get feedback
15. collaborate
16. don't give up
17. practice, practice, practice
18. allow yourself to makemistakes
19. go somewhere new
20. watch foreign films
21. count your blessings
23. take risks
24. break the rules
25. do more of what makes you happy
26. don't force it
27. read a page of the dictionary
28. create a framework
29. stop trying to be someone else's perfect
30. got an idea? write it down.
31. clean your workspace
32 have fun
33. finish something
My hand is bothering me again, so I'm sorry for any typos, but the spirit is there. Today is the 4th memorial for my mother; it will be a difficult day. I thojught of something with something positive that she would approve of. Take care.
Saturday, February 4, 2012
Doll Museum: More History
Doll Museum: More History: We have just about finished with Ancient dolls, and I am ready to enter the Dark Ages. We don't know much about toy dolls from the 1000+ ye...
Thursday, February 2, 2012
To Nan; Anne Boleyn
From: Doomed Queens and Moribund Maidens
To Nan
Defiled was your name full sore,
Through falsehood and ill report.
No justice for you,
Most loyal of kings subjects.
From marchioness to Queen
To Martyred Saint,
From Caesar’s you were,
Would-be lady of cold
Northumberland.
Bravely, as buds
Bloomed in May,
You turned your sweet
Visage towards
Eternity.
Defiled is your name
No more—
That kindest Muse of all,
History—
Has wiped your fate
Clean.
Regal Virginia’s blessings
Your name have restored,
And Honor, Sympathy
And Grace
Rise with you from the
Grave,
Your lute strings
Echo the
Music of the Sphe
To Nan
Defiled was your name full sore,
Through falsehood and ill report.
No justice for you,
Most loyal of kings subjects.
From marchioness to Queen
To Martyred Saint,
From Caesar’s you were,
Would-be lady of cold
Northumberland.
Bravely, as buds
Bloomed in May,
You turned your sweet
Visage towards
Eternity.
Defiled is your name
No more—
That kindest Muse of all,
History—
Has wiped your fate
Clean.
Regal Virginia’s blessings
Your name have restored,
And Honor, Sympathy
And Grace
Rise with you from the
Grave,
Your lute strings
Echo the
Music of the Sphe
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