In search of a title

I need a random title generator. Sometimes, you just feel like rambling on and have no specific idea or end in mind; titles just don't appear, wholly formed, at the beginning of the post.

Anyhoo...I'm over my pity party now. Not that I couldn't find something to sound pitiful about, mind you, but on that particular subject...well, I'll always have bouts of  "why do others get away with shititis," I guess.  Probably part of the human condition.

This is a list of things that kind of creep me out:

• While I won't have any problem retiring (the sooner the better, IMO), and won't miss work a bit, it kind of weirds me out that someone else will be sitting at MY desk, using MY computer, and MY things...MY chair. no. No. NO.

• People selling photos of people they never knew. This really makes me sad in addition to creeping me out. Here's an example of what I mean. People's babies and children, handsome men, families, couples. All these people lived and died, loved, hated, and at some point these photos were cherished by someone. Is there no one left in the family to preserve them? Did family have them and just not care or not know who they were (as is the case with a few really old photos I have)? These end up in estate sales, rummage sales, abandoned storage units, and the like. It weirds me out.

• People who buy the contents of abandoned storage units. Pawing through other people's possessions and memories to make a buck. Ick.

• Decapitation. The reason I won't read Tale of Two Cities. They all end up in the tumbrel headed to the guillotine. ACK!

• People who like Miracle Whip, Pepsi, sugar in their coffee, and/or sweet tea. Your tasters be borked, just sayin'.

• People who ask if you have "big weekend plans." I mean, do they party and hullaballoo every weekend or something? Or expect others to?  And, you know, even if I did (and what is or isn't "big" is subjective anyway), I probably wouldn't discuss it; and they never seem to notice I don't ask them the same thing. I don't care.

Anyway...change of pace.

Here, take some fukitol and call me in the morning.

I guess this time of year I just naturally get into a nostalgic, oh woe is me state of mind. I love the fall; October is my favorite month, although I couldn't tell you why. But at the same time, it's a very sad time of year, too. Again, I couldn't tell you why. I think part of it is that I always looked forward to school starting, but then once things got underway, once again, I had no friends and hated being there. Part of me is nostalgic for times past--perhaps because I want to do things over, be a different me?--and part of me says, why on earth would you want to do that, you crazy woman?

My son should be enjoying high school, the games, the proms, friends, etc, but instead, he's decided to be an introverted...whatever...and instead of going to high school, he's doing an online school. I suppose, in the longrun, he probably won't care that he's missed out on all of that, after all, I'm comparing it all to my memories, which would be unfair to him, but it's all rather depressing...nonetheless that he's not putting any effort into even the online lessons. With off-the-chart intelligence.

So it is that almost anything will touch off a bout of crying. Reading about a couple whom I've never met, losing their daughter to suicide...tears. When Schoep died, I cried. Partly because the dog died, but partly because I had totally missed the post on Facebook two months prior. 

Which brings us to Facebook. Curse you Mark Zuckerberg. You ass. You're sitting there, amassing billions of dollars and enough info on everyone in the world--information that I'm sure the home department of every country out there has tapped into. FB knows more about you than your mom or spouse does. I'm quite sure people have gotten married through FB, I know for a fact people have broken up through it. I've lost a couple of friends because I found out they're right-wing loonies (not just conservatives, but actual, honest-to-goodness, racist, secessionist loons). And God forbid you should actually be honest out there. People will tell you they want honesty, but they're lying. They want you to smile and nod and ignore anything they do that you might question, disagree with, or that makes you uncomfortable. 

That pretty much sums up my whole life, come to think of it. Smile. Nod. Smile. Repress. Rinse. Repeat. 

So you know, what's good for the goose isn't good for the gander in Internetland. Other people can voice their opinions loudly and be for causes, right or wrong, but as ever, if the rest of us have the temerity to say anything, well...we suck. 

And so it goes.

Back to the drawing board

Wasn't my post before last about things not turning out as planned? I got the knobs very quickly in the mail yesterday, but sent them back today. There were four small and 1 large, which I knew and said, okay, the large one can go on the door. But--there's always a but--one of the small ones didn't match the other three and was also badly fractured. Plus, two of the bolt/nut combinations were frozen, with the knob on them. So.... back they went. I guess I'll just keep the porcelain ones for now.

Poo.

Knobby memories..

Just scored a set of antique crystal knobs on ebay. I'm convinced these are exactly what was on my antique washstand when my parents bought it for $5 in 1956 from the next door neighbors in Cedar Rapids. Crystal knobs were, of course, passé in the 50s, so Mother took them off and replaced them with wooden knobs. She painted the stand yellow and the knobs dark green.

When I was expecting my daughter in 1971, I painted the washstand white and the knobs different primary colors.

I When I started restoring the piece in 1976, I couldn't find crystal knobs to save myself, so I got white porcelain ones from Gold Circle in Cleveland. But my dad died in December of that year, so I lost interest in it. I lugged that thing--door off, one drawer stripped and stained, and one drawer and the door mostly stripped--from Cleveland back to New Orleans, in storage, to Austin, and now within the last few years, I finally got it stripped the rest of the way  and went ahead and put the porcelain knobs on so I could use it. (Can we say depression?)

I'm working on another piece and was looking at crystal knobs for it (even though it's older and had metal pulls) when I found this set gleaned from an estate sale. Because of the age and the fact that one is slightly larger, meaning it was  most likely on the door, I'm convinced, as I said, that these are identical to the ones that came off the stand in the first place. These oak washstands (which originally would have had a towel rack and/or mirror-this one is very similar to mine, except the lyre is long since gone) were fairly ubiquitous in latter Victorian times. the house we were living in was a huge Victorian mansion (it's still there, but the top part of the house is gone now--damn, I wish I had pics of that place as I knew it!) at 17th and D in NE Cedar Rapids. It had been split into three large apartments and we had the "front" of the house with the grand staircase, magnificent built-in bookcases and stained glass windows. I'm betting that washstand was in the house when the Aitens (sp?) moved in the back apartment.

So now I think I will put a distressed white chalk finish on the washstand, restore the knobs and put the little casters I have for it on. There are, in fact double holes for the drawers which were patched over, so I'm thinking the crystal knobs were not original, either, since the mint ones I've found on the web all have brass pulls.  Distressing to think the ones in really good condition are also going for $500-600 on ebay and other sites. Whoa.

It's cliché, but...

....why do things never quite turn out the way you envisioned them? Now, granted, the only thing not conforming to my "vision" of the new water heater closet door is the fact that the piece of plywood I used is bowed in the middle, so it doesn't hang flat. Other than that, it's exactly as I imagined.

At least for a time.

You see, I have one of "those" houses. Yes. If you have lived in Austin for any length of time you know the houses I mean.

Nash, Phillips, Copus. NPC Homes. Over the years I've heard Not Properly Constructed; Nails, Paper, and Cardboard; Never Pays Contractors, and my own addition, after having lived in one for 20+ years....

Nothing Per Code.

Just as an example. Studs are supposed to be 16 inches on center apart, yes?  That's fairly standard everywhere in the US, I think (one of my legion of readers *cough*) can correct me if not). Not in this subdivision, baby. They're 22 inches on center. yep. How, you ask innocently, given Austin's totalitarian code enforcement, did they get away with this?  First off, the Code Regime, as I like to call it, is relatively recent, secondly, this development was outside the city limits at the time it was built.

There are lots of other little goodies lurking, too For instance, only one outlet per wall, even on the long living room walls; when the plumber roughed in the soil pipe (the pipe everything goes down from the toilet), it was too high, not to mention off-center, so he just heated and squinched and bent the pipe until the flange was close to the floor and roughly centered between the tub and the vanity. Always wondered why the fleepin' potty rocked.  Discovered this when we pulled the commode out to remove the (cheap-ass) stick-on tile and paint the bathroom floor. We had to hire a plumber to cut the pipe down and add a new flange. So the pot doesn't do the boogie any more, but it is off-center.

The bathtub drain is not installed properly and so was overflowing into the dining room for years and we didn't know it--there's a divot in the concrete slab that was covered up by the carpet. We've since removed the carpet, but haven't had the $$ to completely redo the plumbing in that bath yet. One day.

So, back to the original story. You would expect the header on top of the water heater closet to be a 2x4 all the way across, yes?  In NPC's world apparently not. When I put the big lag hook in on the right side, all was good. Same height on the left...didn't hit wood for 2 inches. They'd just built a box with sheetrock around...oh, whatever..... ggggrrrrr Hell, even the fact that the gas dryer, water heater and furnace are all in the garage is a code violation. Well, not anymore, since this half of the garage has been enclosed as my studio (and yes, I did pull a permit for that).

The plywood is slowly straightening out as it hangs and eventually I will rehang it properly with hinges, but for now, the closet has a door and I'm not losing coolth out of my studio quite as rapidly as I was.

Not sure I should post too much about all this. The Code Regime doesn't care if your "violations" are ages old or from before the area was annexed--or even unfixable (I mean, how the hell would anyone be able to fix the stud issue, sanely?), they'll try to ding you $2K per violation, per day until you fix them. Yeah, nice, eh?  Fortunately, they --for time being at least-- only work on a complaint basis.

DIY-ness

Today, I FINALLY made the door for the water heater closet. YAY me!  Okay, so I haven't hung it yet, but it's done, complete with the vent in the bottom. It's not going to be on hinges, but hung from the top on hooks.  Trust me, it'll work. 

While I was putting away my jigsaw, all the little blades were slipping out of the original packaging and I thought, Ooh! I can put those in this Mentos container...perfect size! But then I got to thinking, after a bit, the printing on them...you know, the printing that tells you what each little blade is for and if you use the wrong blade it'll make your project look like mako sharks in heat made it? yeah, that printing, will eventually wear off. So. Ages old fingernail polish that my manicurist gave me $%# years ago to do craft projects with came to the rescue.

I dabbed a bit of the color next to the blade description on the card, and then some on the shank of the blade, a different color for each type. Once they're dry then they'll go in the Mentos thingy.

More Vintage

I made the center one in 1996, I still have the pattern; funny thing is, the one I made is on the right on my pattern envelope.

http://www.etsy.com/listing/124424130/misses-two-piece-dress-pattern-womens?ref=shop_home_active

http://www.etsy.com/listing/150034462/easy-to-sew-dress-long-knee-short-mini?ref=shop_home_active

I still have this one (or one very much like it--I think there's more detail on the back) , made myself one, Mum latched onto it and I made her another, in lavender cambric--both went in Katrina.

http://www.etsy.com/listing/118580694/misses-easy-to-sew-big-shirt-shirt-tail?ref=shop_home_active

I have a whole lot of these 50s and 60s patterns, but they belonged to my grandmother.  Some years ago I got rid of a boatload of patterns...almost wish I hadn't, but glad I did.

http://www.etsy.com/listing/150744606/vintage-butterick-4174-sewing-pattern?ref=shop_home_active

And the long version of this...was my Nebraska Centennial dress in a blue calico. Mum made prairie sunbonnet to go with it. (watch out, for some reason this site takes forever to load)

http://www.etsy.com/listing/153353724/1960s-empire-waist-dress-pattern?ref=shop_home_active

I made a short one and a long one of this pattern. Somewhere...there are pictures...


I made the one on the right for this one.

Just to bore you...there'll be more...this is fun. LOL

Slice of nostalgia

You know those vintage pattern sites?  Well, here are some patterns I actually had and made things from:

http://momspatterns.com/inc/sdetail/112150

http://momspatterns.com/inc/sdetail/98494

http://momspatterns.com/inc/sdetail/105643

Something like this...if not this very one. http://momspatterns.com/inc/sdetail/108106

I've seen more out on vintage sites.  Funny thing is...none of that was hippie or boho or killer...it was just what we wore.

Might be temporary....

I just did a very freeing thing. I deactivated my Facebook account. Sometime ago, I basically stopped watching the news, it riled me up, made me worry about things over which I have no control, and generally put me in a bad mood. Well, lately, Facebook has been doing the same thing.  And, you know, why should my entire life be on FB? I don't need to know how many migraines someone has, or what they had for dinner, and in some case, I really don't want to know that someone whom I've known and admired for a long time is a raving right-wing loony.

I might go back at some point, might not, and I'll miss certain things...maybe...

On writing

I've always considered myself a fairly decent writer. I've always gotten good grades for and compliments on my writing. But lately I question whether I've retained any of that skill. I read certain people's blogs and think, "I can't write like that." "Look at that, it would take me so much effort to produce something even half that good." Of course, I have to step back and remind myself the person in question might very well have slaved over that piece for days and not just pulled it from thin air.

Often I over-think my writing. I'm a perfectionist, and am anal about word-crafting (blog posts not withstanding), so I write, read, edit, read, edit...ad infinitum, and as a result never get much of anywhere anymore. When I was in college, I had deadlines, of course, so only a certain amount of that cycle could take place; my work was probably the better for it. In my fiction, of course, that read-edit cycle (is that the Krebs Cycle of literature, I wonder?) takes place because so much time elapses between work sessions that I have to remember just what the heck I wrote last time. I end up with some interesting continuity errors otherwise.

I'm no particular fan of Stephen King's, horror is not my thing (I've read Eyes of the Dragon and it was fairly good, but has a bit too many references to boogers for my taste); but I've been thinking about this particular post lately. There are a couple of items on the list with which I disagree, more from a personal standpoint than in theory. For instance:

Any word you have to hunt for in a thesaurus is the wrong word. There are no exceptions to this rule.

I see what he's trying to say there, but if you find yourself repeating the same word over and over, sometimes you just want a slightly different way to say it. I don't use a thesaurus to find a fancy way to say it, but to verify that a given word will have the same connotation I think it does. On the other hand, perhaps what he's trying to say is, "If you're repeating that word over and over, perhaps it's not the word that's the problem."  Hmm. 

I am always chilled and astonished by the would-be writers who ask me for advice and admit, quite blithely, that they 'don't have time to read.' this is like a guy starting up Mount Everest saying that he didn't have time to buy any rope or pitons.

I am always a bit baffled by this, too. I suppose the best excuse would be that if you haven't read something in your own genre, one could hardly accuse you of plagiarism if you happen to write pretty much what someone else has already written. Of course, convincing the court of this might be tricky. Reading not only spawns ideas (not ideas to steal, but new scenarios, or different ways of tackling a character or metaphysics in your fictional world, for instance), but also gives you a sense of what good—and bad—writing is. 

This ties in with number 12:

Good description is a learned skill, one of the prime reasons why you cannot succeed unless you read a lot and write a lot. It's not just a question of how-to, you see; it's also a question of how much to. Reading will help you answer how much, and only reams of writing will help you with the how. You can learn only by doing. 

In this I believe he's right. Which brings me back to my original question: have I retained my writing skills? Yes, but it's like my drawing, it will only come out with exercise.

A little doodle

Awhile back, April 22, to be exact, I was bored out of my gourd in staff meeting--a weekly ritual the Air Force must perform, even though I'm sure it leads to the death by boredom of more than a few every year...so was doodling and came up with this

and colored it with pencils I had at work. It stayed in my agenda for a while, then I pasted it in my daily art journal (which isn't so daily, but I digress...), and it stayed there for a while longer.

Then, Jennibellie sent me a little packet of embellishments which I have dubbed Jennibellishments...and there were these tiny little flowers to punch out (upper left)...and that started the whole page.

Mixed media: colored pencil sketch, Caran d'Ache Neocolor II, pattern paper, Jennibellishments, brads, glitter glue, K & company dragonfly die cut, homemade "washi" tape, gold metallic Sharpie®, Uni-ball Vision Needle pen 

Art Journal: Stars tell us the past. Listen.

6 x 8,25" Mixed media. Dictionary page, acrylic, die cuts from Jennibellie, Tim Holtz "Curious Possibility" stamps, Caran d'Ache Neocolor II, Uni-ball Vision Needle pen.

We’ve been dyin’ since we were born,

All fallin’ ‘round us,

A one-way street to decline...

Sometimes I hear the trees,

Listen to the mountains breathe,

Gentle breath, rockin’ time with discord….

Is there a mountain top left for me?

Is there a valley so deep I can’t see the sky?

I could sleep now, close my eyes and never wake…

© N. Bradford-Reid 2013

The Ultimate American Tragedy

I sit here, wondering if I'm the only American who feels the way I do about the "Marathon Bombing." Surely there must be others who, when they look at that kid, the surviving bomber, get a deep and profound sense of sadness.

Up front, I'd like to make it clear in no way do I condone or sympathize with the acts of terror committed by the Tsarnaev brothers. Violence is rarely the answer to anything (some would say never).  But what occurs to me is that this is the ultimate American tragedy, even more so, if possible, than 9-11. The acts on 9-11 were far more horrendous, many more people died or were permanently affected. The "body count," if you will, was much higher. "Only" three were killed in Boston, four if you include the MIT policeman, of course; nearly 200 injured—some grievously and horrifically--and there was certainly trauma.

But the difference is that the perpetrators of 9-11 were part of a much larger plot to commit acts of evil and mayhem; they came to this country for the express purpose of committing this heinous act.  The brothers who carried out the "Marathon Bombing" were products of a dream gone horribly wrong.

The Tsarnaev family came to the US, escaping the violence in Chechnya. They seemed to have given their kids a great start, education at top schools, opportunities to succeed, to interact. And from all appearances, they were doing okay. The dream of immigrating to the US seemed to be working. But something was wrong in paradise. The older brother, who was a teenager when they came here, felt he was an outsider, and that's entirely possible. Americans—like people everywhere—can be right jerks when it comes to welcoming outsiders. I know this quite well from personal experience, and I was born in the US, my roots go back to before the American Revolution in this country. A *am* an American through and through, and yet so many times was made to feel unwanted and disliked. After a while, I developed a shell and just didn't try to fit in anymore.

With the internet and social media, I can imagine the older brother communicating with other displaced Chechens, forming strong opinions, reinforcing that feeling of hate and being hated. The younger brother, looking up to the older sibling, fell right into it. The acts they committed were inexcusable, but I can empathize with the feeling of outside-ness.

When I look at that face, I don't see the face of an evil mastermind, I see a kid....who was bleeding, terrified, and hunted. His face reminds me of my own son, only three years younger, and I can only feel astounding sadness that this kid felt so alone that it came to this. He will most likely be tried and executed; but some beautiful, youthfully innocent part of him was already dead.

Life is what you make of it and as Jim Wright pointed out, and as I have pointed out to many people, there are so many niches in a country like ours, that all it takes is looking. It's a pity the Tsarnaevs didn't keep looking. A pity for Boston, a pity for the US, and a pity for a 19 year-old whose life ended when he dropped that backpack. I guess it all seemed so simple to him at that point.

Art update

Went and had a coffee and long chat with one of my best friends last night. She's an author (her fourth fiction novel comes out in 11 days!) and fellow artist and journaler. She had a whole bag of crafty stuff she was getting rid of, and of course...I had to take all of it. A really nice sketchbook, some blank books, beads, a couple of canvas boards that were painted on by her gran, but discarded, so they're ready to be new pictures or maybe journal covers, blank ATCs, all sorts of little paper-crafty paper bits and journal cards, most of a package of shrinky plastic sheets, and a full half-pint bottle of Liquitex liquid matte medium. Woot!

I found a place thru Amazon to order a Ranger Inkssentials Craft Sheet for only $3.20 plus S&H. It came right away but when I first opened it, I thought I'd gotten ripped off. I was expecting something more like the silpat baking sheet. This is thin, and kind of cheesy feeling. So...I went out and watched a video* about it and realized I had the right thing. But...it came just rolled up in a shipping tube, with no box or instructions, so with more research, I realized what this place is doing. They're buying this from the Ranger company, cutting it up into 15 x 18 inch pieces and reselling it. Clever. And...for less than half of what it would cost you if you bought the packaged one at retail.

*Caution: Valley Girl accent warning label.

So, I will be trying that out soon and letting you know if it's as wonderful as everyone touts.

Art, Heart & Healing photos.

The cover of my Art, Heart, and Healing art journal.

A portrait and message to myself.

A message to the little me for a wonderful life.

Speed bumps for the 'net

Do you know why streets and parking lots have speed bumps on them? Because of idiots. idiots who can't figure out you don't go blazing through a parking lot at mach2. There are pedestrians, kids running about (because of idiot parents who don't keep track of them), people backing out of parking spaces, shopping carts (left by lazy idiots who are too shiftless to take them to the cart corrals) sitting around waiting to be knocked into someone's car, and yet Mr and Ms Speedo think it's perfectly acceptable to blow through the Wal-de-Mart lot at 30 mph. Same with residential streets. Our street is posted 30 mph, but now is lined with mucking huge speed humps because of the idiots--not that it slows them down, they just get all pissy and hit the gas between the humps--who will go 50 down our hill, oblivious to the fact that people...oh my god...might actually LIVE on this street?  And the worst part is the fact that 80% of these idiots don't even live in our neighborhood and have no business being there in the first place (once again, too lazy to take the other routes, which btw, are FASTER).

Speed bumps are for idiots. Idiots who shouldn't be allowed to drive in the first place. Speed bumps ruin driving for those of us with a brain.

A very close friend of mine had to shut down the comments on her blog. Why? Because of immature idiots. I haven't seen the worst of the comments she's had to endure, but what I have seen is enough, coupled with the sheer pile of bullshit that accretes at the end of any news story these days, to once again convince me the world is full of idiots....idiots who shouldn't have permission to write on the internet.

Having to shut down your comments is like having to put speed bumps on your street all because of  idiots who ruin it for the rest of us.

Pop Quiz

Like my friend over at Pushing Furniture, I love a quiz, too. So for this one, HGTV's What's your architectural personality?, I am Spanish Colonial.

I actually love Spanish Colonial, believe it or not--well, let's be honest, they're talking Spanish Colonial Revival or Mediterranean Revival, or even Spanish eclectic; and I like the ones built in Texas and California in the 20s. But they're probably a bear to keep up. I am not wild about the typical "Spanish Colonial" furniture, though, and prefer something a little more rustic and comfy, with white painted accents and colorful fabrics. I adore this look and the colors here just make me happy. Boho--hippie funk--makes me happy, too.

Apparently, we lived in a 20s Spanish Revival in Coronado when I was hatched, strangely enough, I don't remember it. ;)  We have a few photos of parts of the exterior--white stucco--but I don't think an actual pic of the house. And it's long since been demolished and condos put up in place of it and its neighbors.

A cute Spanish eclectic in Sarasota, FL

I wonder what I would've gotten on the quiz if I'd said Reese Witherspoon instead of John Goodman....

I Stand Corrected...

http://www.madamebizarro.net/2012/10/something-stinks-like-rotten-fish.html

http://espn.go.com/sports/endurance/story/_/id/8845599/oprah-winfrey-confirms-lance-armstrong-admitted-doping

WOYWW #188

Hello again, all you lovely crafters at WOYWW. Sorry, I missed last week...was mainly just gessoing odd pages and...pffft...can't remember. This week I was working on one of those ubiquitous "journal page girls." Ridiculously bad, I must say. Started out as a sketch while waiting for my mother's CT scan. Wasn't complete rubbish, but then I added color to it. Bleah. Picasso eyes, way too widely spaced, squirrel tails for hair, and a giraffe's neck. Lovely. But, each drawing we do is a learning experience and practice for our hand.

The second thing, which is what I'm actually working on, is the first assignment in Willowing's Art, Heart, and Healing course. There's still a lot to go on it. She has her eyes closed, if you're wondering. I know the phone pic might not be so very clear.  It was done on a two page spread in a gessoed board book--the kind you get for toddlers. I had just tons of fun sanding and gessoing the dorky Barbie pages. LOL.  The medium is a Derwent water soluble GRAPHtone pencil in 8B Very Dark, and water. Still issues with the portrait, but it's far better than Giraffe Girl. for some reason the captions aren't showing on the blog...blogger weirdness.  anyway...remember to click on the picture!

Picasso Eyes....aka giraffe Girl. Ah, well, it's just practice.

Sort of a self-portrait. The only things that are accurate are the hair and gender...

82 pounds of snuggly dawg. Abby.