ASF* ver. 1.0 and 1.1

Sounds really technical, doesn't it? 

*Action Stuffy Figure

The bugs designed these guys, right down to their hairstyles and clothing, while I've been implementing the design and sewing process.  Version 1.0, on the left with the rainbow shirt, was made using raw canvas as the face, arm and leg material.  I originally thought I would paint the face on, so canvas might be a good choice, plus I have a stockpile of it in my closet in Knoxville.

However...not soft enough.  At all.  On the other hand, I love the hair design that Junebug came up with, and we'll be repeating that, for sure.   There were also some construction issues in the neck region that needed to be worked out.

Version 1.1 is a Doodlebug design (note the sedate and conservative hairstyle...so Doodle-ish).  For the face, arms and legs on this doll, I used a t-shirt in a mocha color.  It is perfect.  Soft and cushy and stuffable.  It's kind of a pain to sew, but it is definitely worth it for the plush factor.

I based my design on a Black Apple doll, as shown on the Martha Stewart web page, with heavy modifications by the bugs, but I think Version 2.0 is going to branch out a little more.  I like that the doll can sit up, but I don't really like how the arms and legs are constructed, and neither do the boys.  So, today, we'll be going back to the design board.

The bodies of these guys HAVE to be finished before Saturday.  I'm NOT lugging the sewing machine to Arlington...

Pink Peony, Perfected.

One year ago, I took this picture at the Biltmore House, in Asheville, North Carolina. Back a few months ago, fellow blogger and Knoxville artist, Zelma Cinnamon, asked me if she could paint it.

Oh. My. Gah.

Go Look.

Seriously.

Sunday Shadow Shot, Time Corrected

Sundial at the Smithsonian Gardens, Washington, DC.

Corrected for Daylight Savings Time.  (Thanks, honey.)

Check out the other wonderful shadows over at Hey Harriet!  This project has me looking for shadows everywhere I go!

***

We're off to Tennessee today for the week.  Gotta mow the lawn and get my teeth adjusted and grab a guitar lesson for the guys and...and...and...well...everything else.

Note to self:  Make a DETAILED list.

Plus, my convertible needs driving, and the weather is shaping up to be fabulous for some top-down cruising.

More Georgetown and Other Things

As we walked through Georgetown Thursday, I couldn't help but admire the rows of lovely old houses.  These are my favorites - with their cupola on the front - tiny castles in a sea of boxes. 

***

Yesterday, the weather was beautiful and sunny and warm.  The boys and I took a day to read and do some life schooling in the morning, and then headed into the district after lunch.  We wandered around the National Mall and into the Smithsonian gardens and waited for Dr. SmartyPants to meet up with us.  It was so nice to sit out on the grass and just soak it up - the sun and the warmth and the experience of being there.

There was a whole lot of this:

Some of this:

And of course...

Perfection on a stick.

Commander Salamander, Man.

Back in 1985...whoa...excuse me while I faint a little, realizing that was 24 years ago...okay.  Got it. 

Back in 1985, I took a trip to DC with an organization called Close Up.  It was a fantastic experience - a week in DC learning about government and history, with some side trips for theater shows and sightseeing.  I can remember, vividly, wanting to go to Commander Salamander.   Ahh...Commander Salamander...home of punk rock apparel for almost 30 years.  I cannot, for the life of me, figure out how I even knew about Commander Salamander.  I mean, I was a girl from a smallish town in Louisiana, home of conservative, preppy, monogrammed sweaters and penny loafers.

I didn't have any monogrammed sweaters or penny loafers, though.  I hated them.  I embraced my punk side and pegged my jeans to better show off my hot pink Chuck Taylors.  I spiked my hair and wore outlandish eye shadow designs.  I wore lace glovelets like Madonna.  Not much has changed since then, I guess.

Anyhow, we had a day of tooling around Georgetown on that trip, and I dragged one of my hapless companions along with me to find this very store.  IT.  WAS.  AWESOME.  So very 80s punk.  I left with a pair of turquoise Chucks, salamanders printed randomly across them.

I loved those shoes.

Yesterday, the boys and I went to Georgetown for the afternoon.  As we wandered down Wisconsin Avenue, I saw the front of the store and had to go peek in.  It was filled to the brim with brightly colored punky clothing, still.  Actually, it looks like the 80s are back.  Neon colors and mini skirts and tights.  It was good to see that the integrity of the store hadn't changed.  There wasn't a penny loafer to be seen.

But it made me feel a bit old.  My era is retro.  I'm vintage.  There was not one thing in that store that I would wear, now.  Not without looking completely ridiculous, anyway.

Anyone know where to find punk clothes for the over-40 set?

*whimper*

Knock Knock Jokes at the Talky Beer Place

This drawing is on the facing page of the last tulip, but I didn't have a drawing for today, so I thought I'd share it.

***

We seem to be starting a Wednesday night tradition here in DC.  There's a restaurant within walking distance of us where kids 10 and under eat free between 4pm and 7pm every day but Monday.  I guess they don't want kids in there on Mondays?  Maybe that's when they sponsor wet t-shirt contests?  Perhaps it's free shooter night?  I don't know. 

Anyhow - we tried it out a while back and the food was really great, the atmosphere was neighborly - nice hosts, nice servers, nice big gigantic bouncer dude.  Seriously - he has to turn sideways to walk through the door.  In the event of an emergency, they could use him AS the door.

Last week, we went a little later than usual, and they were having a private party in the back.  People were talking and laughing and having fun.  Right before we got up to leave, Junebug says he thinks he knows the name of the restaurant.  I ask him what it is, and he replies, "The Talky Beer Place."

Yes.  Yes, indeed.

I LIKE it.  Yesterday afternoon, I sent Dr. SmartyPants a text.  "Hey!  $2.50 Blue Moons and kids eat free at The Talky Beer Place..."  He replied, "Sweeeeet..."

And so a tradition was born.  A cheap, cheap tradition. 

***

Junebug bought a book of Jokes, Riddles and Knock Knock Jokes.  Is there anything cuter and more annoying than a kid with a book full of really bad knock knock jokes?

No, my friends.  There is not.

Here's the only reason that he's allowed to keep it up: 

Knock knock

Who's there?

Comma

Comma who?

Comma little closer and give me a kiss!

*SMOOCH*

That's hard to pass up...

Outside My Window

A beautiful pink dogwood sits right outside my window.  It's the tree that cast those lovely shadows on my walls on Easter Sunday, its buds just beginning to open and reveal themselves.  This dogwood is in full glory at the moment, petals straining open as wide as possible, enticing pollinators around the world to come and feast.  I could sit and watch the festivities all day.

***

The boys and I have a new project in the works.  We're going to be making rag dolls for an orphanage in Nicaragua, as part of a Craft Hope project.  The dolls will be traveling down to Nicaragua with Eren, from the blog This Vintage Chica, as she joins with the ORPHANnetwork.  Now, crafting isn't usually our thing, although I can sew up a mean superhero cape or one of a set of curtains before I get bored and move on to something else, but - this seemed like the kind of thing we could get behind.

My boys are manly boys.  They love cars and motorbikes and superheros and Star Wars and they wrestle on the floor until someone pulls them apart all sweaty and irritated.  I tease them about their little dolls they play with and they loudly correct me, "THEY'RE ACTION FIGURES, MAMA." 

They also love stuffed animals.  "Stuffies," they call them.  You would not even believe how much money we've spent at Build-a-Bear.  Junebug is the most avid devotee, but big brother plays right along side him.

So.

We aren't crafting dolls.

We're making ACTION STUFFY FIGURES.

We'll take photos along the way to show you what we're up to, and of course photos when they are finished.  I have a feeling there will be more dolls ACTION STUFFY FIGURES made than just the ones going to Nicaragua...

***

And lastly - thanks to everyone willing to join in with the D.I.A.H.N. Group.  We'll have to figure out a way to get together and just be freakin' nice to each other over a long weekend.  ;-)

And speaking of nice - I ran across this yesterday.  Nice!

Are You Looking at Me?

People are funny, aren't they?  I was reading a blog yesterday, a blog I enjoy for its creativity and insight and photographs.  I'm not going to link to it, because which blog it was is irrelevant, and I don't want to add fuel to the controversy that is playing out over there.  You see - the writer of this particular blog had an idea, blogged about it, and invited others of like mind to join in with her if they wanted.  She used a particular term relating to a philosophy of educating children (unschooling), and it started a little battle of words between a few people, offended at her use of "their" word.

Because, you see, she's not one of "them."   That she would dare use "their" word, out of the context of "their" usage was quite offensive to them.  Honestly - they were downright snide, snippy and quite belittling to this woman, who responded with grace and humility. 

Ridiculous.

And completely expected.

What is it that drives human beings to divide themselves into little packs and then snarl and bite at those who want to peek in and see what our pack is like?  What is this need to categorize every human and situation into neat piles, and then pitch a giant hissy fit when one of the piles gets shuffled?

I am a this.  You are a that. 

I am a right.  You are a wrong.  Unless you agree with everything I say, then you can be a right, too. 

Just don't buck the system.  Even when the system is set up specifically to buck the system. 

Ugh.  It's so discouraging to see smart, well-educated, well-meaning people so totally miss the boat on so many things.

So.  I have a plan.

I'm going to start a new group.  We'll call it the D.I.A.H.N. (Devastatingly Intelligent and Honestly Nice) Group.  Here are the principles.

1. Everyone has an opinion.  It may not be the same as yours.  Respect theirs and listen.  Respectfully disagree.  Hug.  Share yours gently.  Listen to them disagree.  Hug again.
2. If the only people you ever talk to have the exact same position as you on every issue...you're hiding from something.  Stretch yourself.
3. Just because it works for you doesn't mean it works for everyone.  Get over yourself already.
4. Examine both sides of an issue before you develop an opinion.  If your source of information is one-sided, find at least one additional (opposing) source and compare.
5. Feel free to acknowledge that you don't know the right thing to say or do all the time.  It's okay.  None of us do.
6. If someone wants to join you in your cause, grant some grace and don't demand that they start at the top.  Everyone needs time to build a foundation.

That's pretty much it. 

Anyone care to join?

The Evolution of Hatching

This is what happens when you sit in front of the television while drawing.  Things go awry.  Lines take on a mind of their own and take over the paper. 

If you squint and turn your head to the left a little, you can see that this is a triceratops with its head turned slightly to viewer right, sinus cavity dead center.

***

We're starting back to school today, after taking our spring break last week.  It's so hard to get going again.  This is one of those times when it is hard to be a home schooling family.  We don't have to follow anyone else's schedule, which is AWESOME, but we have to be motivated to get going. 

To top it off, it's a gloomy, rainy day.  That never fails to make me want to build a little nest on the couch, put a movie on the television and C.H.I.L.L. out, man. 

But it is not to be.  Not today. 

Time to go fetch the children...

sigh.

Spring Shadow Shot and Spring Fling

The spring shadows keep magically appearing around my neighborhood - this one across the street from my house. I love how the bud shapes dance across the peak of this roof. Check out the other Sunday Shadow Shots at Hey Harriet!

Created with Admarket's flickrSLiDR.

And, if you love cars...specifically Ferraris...watch the slide show. If you don't?

Shame on you.

Spring Hatching

One of the tulips from Arlington National Cemetery, rendered in lines. 

Many, many lines.

I'm not sure where all this hatching and pen work is coming from, but I'm enjoying it while it lasts.

We're off to see Ferraris today, at the Mid-Atlantic Ferrari club's Spring rally.  All my boys are excited beyond excitement.  It's another blindingly gorgeous day, and all that Ferrari red will be brilliant.

I may have to break out the color again.

Panda-monium

We spent the day at the National Zoo, exploring all the wonderful animal enclosures and the gorgeous SPRING day of blinding sunshine, azure skies and 70 degree temperatures.  OH, how I needed that...

The zoo is home to a breeding pair of giant pandas and their cub, who will be heading back to China, eventually.

Let me just say, that I don't like to embue animals with human characteristics.  I know pandas are wild animals.

But OMIGOSH how cute is that big cuddly thing?

Don't even get me started on the new gorilla baby.

It Ends in a Zero...Right?

One of my very favorite people in the world is having a birthday today. 

Go say hi and give her a big birthday hug from me, okay?

Dilapidated

We spotted this old truck at the end of a nature trail in the Smoky Mountains when we were there at the beginning of the month.  It has been parked in this clearing for 6,532 years, although carbon dating places it closer to 7,000.

Wait.

Maybe that's a stretch.

In any case, it's been there a long time.  Long enough for moss to grow on the windows and headlights.  Long enough for the frame of the pickup bed to have rusted away from the cab.  Long enough that the tires are actually planted into the debris-covered ground.  Long enough that the original color is a mystery - everything having changed over to a nice uniform rust.

I imagine that entire chipmunk families have been raised in that truck, returning each year for Thanksgiving feasts of stored acorns, vowing never to sell that property, no matter how high they raise the taxes.  I imagine that the worm colony underneath it reminisces about back in 1960, when the compost layer was only an inch thick and how hard they had to struggle to eat all that hard dirt and turn it into fertile soil and you kids today don't know how good you've got it.

My imagination tends to run away with me.

I'm feeling a bit like this truck today.  I gave my folks and my niece the whirlwind tour of DC, as many stops as possible in as little time as you can manage.  My feet are walked out, my voice tired from talking and directing, my energy waning. 

What I really want to do is pick up a pen and sit down and draw something insignificant and small, and make it larger than life.

So.

That's what I'm going to do now.

Right after my nap.

The View from Here

We spent our afternoon Sunday at the Arlington National Cemetery, and I thought this view was striking.  All the headstones, in perfect military formation, laid out before the monuments of Washington, DC.  It's a quiet, solemn place, full of history and honor and grief and pride.

The grounds are beautiful - the flowers and trees maintained with a level of attention appropriate to these hallowed grounds.

 

Regardless of your political views, you can't help but be moved by the sacrifice, throughout this country's history, represented in this cemetery. 

Thank you.

Easterly

Easter morning came early to our house - we got up to attend the 8 am service at the Washington National Cathedral.  My boys and my niece managed to get up and get dressed and ready to go fairly easily.

Things quickly fell apart.

Actually, it was lovely.  Such a beautiful service, even if it was early.  The music was divine, the flowers were gorgeous, the building is spectacular.  Quite inspiring.

I hope yours was, as well.  I'll be back tomorrow morning with some photographs from our trip to Arlington National Cemetery Sunday afternoon.  We've been walking around DC all day, showing my folks the sights, and I'm too tired to write.

Peace, peeps.

Shadow Shot Sunday

I've been seeing a few Shadow Shot Sunday posts here and there, notably at Hey Harriet, the person responsible for the meme, and at Julie's place, too.  I've always loved looking at shadows, so I thought I'd play along.  It's technically still Sunday here - for another hour and a half.

I found these shadows dancing on my walls this morning, as we were getting ready to go to church for Easter services, and found that they made a lovely, if fleeting, triptych for my staircase.

And this one was captured on the hallowed grounds of the Arlington National Cemetery...the shadow of a weeping cherry, standing a silent guard over fallen soldiers.

Who?

Me.

Have a wonderful Easter weekend, everyone!

Acting Squirrely

One of the things that I'm so enjoying in our urban house is looking out the windows at all the wildlife.  It is one of life's great ironies that in the city, I look out and see birds and squirrels and chipmunks and all manner of wildlife, while in the suburbs, I have to drive to the mountains (or to Linda's house) to catch sight of non-domesticated critters.

It's a new vs. old thing rather than concrete vs. grass.  In this neighborhood of 70 year old homes, the trees stand tall and majestic, matured and proven.  Birds and squirrels like tall majestic trees.  In my Tennessee neighborhood of 4 year old homes, the trees are tiny and bendy and puny. 

No trees, no squirrels.

I know people that hate squirrels, because the squirrels like to come empty the bird feeders that are for the BIRDS.  I lived in a townhouse once where we had a feeder on the back patio.  The squirrels would come and hang upside down from the patio cover to eat the bird seed.  I thought it was hilarious.  But I love squirrels.  I think they have great attitude.  They're cheeky, and not just when they're storing nuts.  I like watching them leap across the fences and chatter at each other. 

I imagine they curse fluently.

***

Things are coming together for me to take a trip that I AM SO FREAKING EXCITED ABOUT.

I could just leave you hanging like that, I suppose.  Like a squirrel at a a bird feeder. 

Upside down with all the blood rushing to your head.

And then I'd take a picture of you.

But I'm nicer than that.  I'll tell you this much.  It involves her and this  and probably this and maybe a couple of these and none of these.  (Although I love the last bit and think they are amazing, but sometimes a girl has just got to get away - stopitIfeelguiltyenoughalready.)

Well, look at that. 

I guess I told you everything you need to know.

Let the Sunshine In

This morning, as I sat drinking my coffee in the dining room, I looked out the front windows and gasped.

At the dirt.

It was nothing unusual or more dirty than any other window on the block - just the dirt and grime that collects after a winter of snows and oil burning furnaces, but the sun hitting the dirt just hit me in particularly bad way today.

When I finished cleaning them, I just marveled at the sparkling light pouring through the windows. 

Gorgeous. 

Isn't that what spring cleaning is all about?  Cleaning off the grime of winter and letting the sun stream in?  Oh yes - it is.

Here are a few things I noticed outside my sparkly clean windows...

 

I hope you all find something sparkling today. 

And capture just a little of it.

Hawkeye

 

I would like to find out who is in charge of this stinking weather and sic my little friend upon his eyeballs.  I'm beginning to think that we'll be wearing coats and scarves until July.

***

My parents and my niece are coming up to DC to visit with us late in the week.  My parents have never seen DC, although my niece was here last summer with her other grandparents.  I'm so looking forward to seeing everything with my folks.  It's always interesting to see how different generations see things, don't you think?  I can't imagine what it must be like to visit the Vietnam Memorial as a veteran of that war, and find your friends names on the wall.  What will they see when we go to the WWII Memorial, as children of that war that shaped the lives of their parents?

I know that, for me, the older I get, the more significant history becomes.  When I was a child, I thought history was dry and boring most of the time, but it occasionally had some interesting elements.  Now, I'm fascinated by the trials and tribulations, the inventions and innovations that have shaped not only our country, but the world.

I spend a lot of my time here wishing I had paid more attention in school.  I wish I had seen the significance of the past back when I had the time and texts to learn more about it.  Now, I glean what I can from the monuments and museums, and spend way too much time on Wikipedia, after one of the bugs has asked me a question that I am clueless about. 

How did we ever get along before Wikipedia?  My poor mother.  She had to drive us to the library and have us look up the answer in an encyclopedia.

For three hours at a time.

Hey.  Wait a minute.

Where the heck was she during that time?

Aaahhh...Dang.  NOW I get it.

We're off to the library just now.  Have a fantastic day.

Tripping Lightly Through the Trillium

Before our legendary trek through DC at Cherry Blossom time, we took a nice, leisurely drive along one of those treasures in our backyard.  The Roaring Fork Motor Nature Trail, while perhaps oxymoronic in name, is  a lovely little one way, narrow, winding road through primitive forest dotted with a few old log cabins.  We were on the hunt for the trillium, the wonderful triplet leafed and petaled wildflower that blooms this time of year.

The hills were full of them, patches scattered on the damp forest floor.  This was a new variety for me - I'd never seen one with such pointed petals and deep, deep purple center.  Dr. SmartyPants was kind enough to drive and stop at a moment's notice whenever I yelled that I just HAD to get a photo of THAT one.

Yes, my friends, I am seriously indulged.

The Longest Trip

Ever.

It started normally enough, with a 480 mile journey from one home to another.

A Great Idea ensued.  One that was postulated earlier in this very blog.  The luggage did, indeed, stay in the freaking car.  We drove straight through Arlington, and attempted to cross the Arlington Memorial Bridge.

Along with everyone else in the United States of America.

As we sat, stuck in the traffic, watching clouds roll in, Dr. SmartyPants suggested that I  jump out and head down to the Tidal Basin on foot, so I could at least get a few pictures before the forecasted rain showed up on Monday.  So I did. 

Right into the path of a mini van.

A very slowly moving mini van.

Cell-phone in one hand, camera in the other, I started walking, along with everyone else in the United States of America, and a few from every other country on the planet.  I made it down to the Tidal Basin, where the cherry Blossoms were in full, peak bloom.  Breezes caught petals and the fluttered to the ground, creating a magical landscape of, well, teeming throngs of people.

Of course, in between all the people were these lovelies...

And this...

So.  There I was.  I had my pictures.  We've driven for 8 hours.  I'm ready to head home.  Dr. SmartyPants was going to try and loop around and pick me up.  I called him.

"Where are you?"

"I'm stuck.  I can't go left, I can't go right, nothing is going anywhere."

"Okay.  I'm just going to walk to the Smithsonian Metro and get home that way.  Get home by whatever means necessary."

"Good Luck." **

Off I go.  Past the Jefferson Memorial, up 15th the the Mall, over to the Smithsonian Metro, where I'm informed that THAT station is exit only today, I'll have to go one block south to the other entrance and go in there.  So, the cattle and I moo our way over there.

"One hour wait," I am told.

One more block south and then west a couple of blocks and now I'm on 14th, back to the Mall - across to Constitution, quick nip into the Museum of American History for a bathroom break.

Yes.  I did.  I went into the National Museum of American History for the express purpose of using the bathroom. 

I went through a metal detector and a bag search just to pee.

Finally, I made it to the Federal Triangle station and managed to get onto the platform without incident.  I waited with the multinational cattle for the next train to come along, but when my orange line train arrived it was packed with all the cattle from the Smithsonian station and I COULDN'T GET ON. 

Then I cried a little.

Then I got on the next train, which was a blue train, which doesn't go to the station near my house.  No.  I'm not stupid.  It does get me a little closer, and that's all I really needed.  I made it to the transfer station that should have gotten me on the right train, but of course it was packed to the gills, too, I so made an escape and decided to walk some more.

My journey from hopping out of the car to hopping on the train was almost 4 miles.

It was 2 miles to the restaurant where Dr. SmartyPants and the boys met me, fed me and ordered me a Blue Moon with an orange slice.

Another mile and I was back home. 

Four hours after I jumped out of the car.  12 hours after we drove out of the Krispy Kreme parking lot in Knoxville, Tennesee.

But I got the shots.

And that's all that really matters, right?

**This conversation has been shortened and reduced to one rather than the 25 calls that actually took place and the multiple uses of certain expletives that are not allowed in this blog as we run a G-rated establishment here, folks.

Wildernot.

I was going to write a post yesterday, but we were roughing it - camping out in the wildernessnot.

I mean really.  How tough can life be?  I'm at least 8 feet away from my heated camper.  And it was COLD.  The fire was not even close to warming my typing fingers.  How do you expect someone to function in such deplorable circumstances?

Okay - it's the most ridiculous way to camp in the world, I know.  We don't always go the fancy route, but given that we were making a quick trip in between cities, it worked.  We were next to the river, which provided some much needed white noise, Dr. SmartyPants left his Blackberry at home, and we giggled and cut up and acted completely ridiculously and let the boys run wild all over the campground.

We took a trip over the hill to Gatlinburg and got our quarterly experience of hillbilly tourism.  No trip to the 'burg is complete without a visit to Ole Smoky Candy Kitchen to watch them making the taffy, and to window shop all the yummy treats...

And, of course, to sample a few...

I'll be back on Monday with some more Smoky Mountain fun...

Pinky Diahnero

I'm not sure exactly what happened.  I went to get my hair highlighted and took a wrong turn at the Easter egg factory.

Okay.  It's on purpose.

And really a whole lot of fun. 

It had been 6 months since I had it cut and colored last - and things were just really really bad.  Really.  Like so bad that when my fabulous stylist, Annie, saw me, she didn't recognize me.  Then, when she figured out who I was, she shook her head and said, "Oh no.  No no no.  No."

I took that to mean I needed a little change.

So, she cut off about 9 inches and lightened the top about ONE MILLION levels and gave me a smidge of funk.

I got home after 4 hours at the salon.  (Yes.  I just said 4 hours.  It is no small thing to look so strange.)   When I walked into the living room, Doodlebug glanced up, then back at the TV, the back at me again.  "Wow, Mom!  You look great.  You look so much younger!"

He's definitely back in the will.

Later, he told me I looked like I was 20. 

Double inheritance for that boy.

Folly

Tomorrow I start on the European leg of my world piano tour.  Forgive me if my blog posts become a bit sporadic.

I'm a huge star in Liechtenstein. 

I'll be back tomorrow.