Easter
Lily in Autumn
Tigress by Ellen Tsagaris
This is a story of Jack the Ripper with at Twist!
Ellen Tsagaris' The Bathory Chronicles; Vol. I Defiled is My Name
This is the first of a trilogy retelling the true story of the infamous countess as a youn adult novel. History is not always what it seems.
Wild Horse Runs Free
A Historical Novel by Ellen Tsagaris
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!
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Autumn Still Life
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Boadicea
The Original Bodacious Woman
Angel Monument
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Top Five Favorite Antique Parian Dolls | Ruby Lane Blog
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Thursday, August 30, 2018
Dr. E's Doll Museum Blog: Rescued Open House 2018
Dr. E's Doll Museum Blog: Rescued Open House 2018: Rescued Open House September 22, 10-4; September 23, 12-4 Come celebrate with Rescued , and perform good deeds while you s...
Tuesday, August 28, 2018
A few More Flower Pics
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| More Phantom |
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| Pretty petunias |
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| Colias |
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| Mr. Frog Coductor |
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| Very Green |
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| Born Free |
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| Resting |
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| Near flight |
Scenes from The Garden. Suddenly, it's Last Summer
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| Gnome sweet gnome |
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| Mr. Squirre |
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| Hide N Seek |
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| Room with a View |
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| I planted this |
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| Hydrangeas a la neighbor |
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| Butterfly with issues |
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| She still flew away |
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| Peace |
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| A lush |
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| Phantom |
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| Local color |
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| Impromptu Tea |
Growing a greener world
Hay bale growing. Evaluate garden. Save seeds. These were the topics from this PBS show I came across. Today, I bought butter lettuce marked "local" and it was very tender ad fresh.
Trying to hit the farmers market this week; I had about three tomatoes out of two grown plants. I saved one little green one. The other two that ripened were eaten. I do have a pumpkin vine looking just great, so I'm hoping.
The state of the garden is iffy. I have two new rose bushes, rescues, really, that are holding on. My Dracula flower bloom was bitten off, but the plant is terrific. I'm going to plant it in the ground. I put down something allegedly organic for grubs, and the moles have left my yard, too. The resident groundhog had taken to using the stairs to the right of my house to get to the ravine. He is well aware of, and avoids, the neighbor's live trap, set for him to the left of my house. I actually watched make the decision to take the stairs. There are more pics at ellen_tsagaris on Instagram.
Our city deer are still there, and our fox couple. I'm told there is a black cat with a withered ear that shelters in my bushes; I've not seen him, but am leaving cat food, fresh water, a couple of towels, a basket for shelter, and a catnip toy. It's all under the car port.
These days, I write on my Dad's memoirs. He left me about ten pages of his Mss. It is mostly a narrative of his life in the Royal Hellenic Air Force and the U. S. Air Force. I'm finishing what I can for him. It is clearly in his voice, and it is as if he is sitting ear me and narrating. It's a way of keeping him alive. No one who is remembered every really dies, so we'll see.
With the horrific storm, now dying down, it has been a cooler, depressing day. It is elegiac; I feel fall in the breeze that blows, in the one or two leave that have changed colors and drift to the ground. The squirrels are busier than ever, Halloween décor is slowly appearing.
I love fall, but it is when I lost Dad, and ten years ago or so, when my Mom began to fail. When I read what they have left me, it's hard to reconcile those vibrant, young, intrepid people with the invalids they became so suddenly. Now, alone, I'm left to keep their story going.
I'm not worthy. I want to cry all the time, but neither would approve of that. Tomorrow, I have to appear at the courthouse to finalize my Dad's estate. I hate going there. I worked there for several years, they gave me the county law library, I have friends and neighbors and students who work there, but each time I set off the idiot beeper, and I have to get searched by wand, while one fool guard who looks like a thug out of Dick Tracy lectures me on the importance of the search. I could pull out my ABA card, but it hardly seems worth it. One of my friends, a judge, even married us. Several were my mom's students, too, and she translated documents for them, but there you go.
Very frustrating trying to mail packages; no good deed goes unpublished. Apparently, we are not allowed to send mail to Australia. Did I miss a war? On the other hand, I get packages from there delivered straight to my box. Go figure.
Enough; the sun will come out tomorrow, and the storms are dying. Have a good night.
Trying to hit the farmers market this week; I had about three tomatoes out of two grown plants. I saved one little green one. The other two that ripened were eaten. I do have a pumpkin vine looking just great, so I'm hoping.
The state of the garden is iffy. I have two new rose bushes, rescues, really, that are holding on. My Dracula flower bloom was bitten off, but the plant is terrific. I'm going to plant it in the ground. I put down something allegedly organic for grubs, and the moles have left my yard, too. The resident groundhog had taken to using the stairs to the right of my house to get to the ravine. He is well aware of, and avoids, the neighbor's live trap, set for him to the left of my house. I actually watched make the decision to take the stairs. There are more pics at ellen_tsagaris on Instagram.
Our city deer are still there, and our fox couple. I'm told there is a black cat with a withered ear that shelters in my bushes; I've not seen him, but am leaving cat food, fresh water, a couple of towels, a basket for shelter, and a catnip toy. It's all under the car port.
These days, I write on my Dad's memoirs. He left me about ten pages of his Mss. It is mostly a narrative of his life in the Royal Hellenic Air Force and the U. S. Air Force. I'm finishing what I can for him. It is clearly in his voice, and it is as if he is sitting ear me and narrating. It's a way of keeping him alive. No one who is remembered every really dies, so we'll see.
With the horrific storm, now dying down, it has been a cooler, depressing day. It is elegiac; I feel fall in the breeze that blows, in the one or two leave that have changed colors and drift to the ground. The squirrels are busier than ever, Halloween décor is slowly appearing.
I love fall, but it is when I lost Dad, and ten years ago or so, when my Mom began to fail. When I read what they have left me, it's hard to reconcile those vibrant, young, intrepid people with the invalids they became so suddenly. Now, alone, I'm left to keep their story going.
I'm not worthy. I want to cry all the time, but neither would approve of that. Tomorrow, I have to appear at the courthouse to finalize my Dad's estate. I hate going there. I worked there for several years, they gave me the county law library, I have friends and neighbors and students who work there, but each time I set off the idiot beeper, and I have to get searched by wand, while one fool guard who looks like a thug out of Dick Tracy lectures me on the importance of the search. I could pull out my ABA card, but it hardly seems worth it. One of my friends, a judge, even married us. Several were my mom's students, too, and she translated documents for them, but there you go.
Very frustrating trying to mail packages; no good deed goes unpublished. Apparently, we are not allowed to send mail to Australia. Did I miss a war? On the other hand, I get packages from there delivered straight to my box. Go figure.
Enough; the sun will come out tomorrow, and the storms are dying. Have a good night.
Wednesday, August 8, 2018
There Is No House Without A Doll - Ruby Lane Blog
There Is No House Without A Doll - Ruby Lane Blog: Dolls touch everyone’s life one way or another. Even those who claim they have no dolls or don’t like them have had a doll or doll-related object in their lives. Here are some dolls and doll related objects that fit the doll theme, or what Lea Baten calls “The Doll Motif.” Basically, anything that is... Read more »
Wednesday, August 1, 2018
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