Tall Tales from Kansas

...sometimes they lie

In the event that you missed this, I provide it here for your enjoyment. It sums up quite well how I (and maybe you?) feel about my work at times.  Work being a loose term for what I get paid to do, what I try to accomplish in terms of writing, painting, cooking... or anything I start out on that gets a mind of it's own and goes in a direction I didn't anticipate.  

The Other Poet
by Ellie Schoenfeld

The poet explains exactly
what her poems are doing on a variety of levels.
I am jealously impressed.
My poems go places
but send no postcards––I have no idea
what they are doing. They do
whatever they want to.
I give them curfews
but they wake me in the middle
of the night, they interrupt meetings
and other situations where I have no time
for them. They hang on me
when I am on the phone.
They do not keep my secrets
and sometimes they lie.
They can be sullen and withdrawn
or explosively obscene.
I think my poems have problems with authority,
conduct disorders, attention deficit.
The other poet is like the parent
with the bumper sticker about their honor student
while I am speeding along
to get to the correctional facility
before visiting hours are over.
I try to give my poems direction.
They tell me they have cleaned their rooms
but we both know it's not true.
After all these years of therapy
we still don't understand each other.
I write a poem and think
"What the hell is that?!"

 

we go for things like ax throwing

You might think that palliative care teams engage in activities like mindfulness meditation, yoga, or journaling for self-care.  Probably, some do.

But not my team. We go in for things like ax throwing.  With great gusto actually, after we had the technique down. There may have been cursing too. Ax throwing and cursing just seem to go hand in hand.  

adventures that turn into busts can suddenly right themselves

The other day when the Prairie Makers were out on an adventure, which turned into a bust, because the location where the adventure was being held was closed, we were unexpectedly introduced to a whole new form of making.

Making with big, giant, heavy, rusty, steel, and metal.

It was quirky, unexpected, and Joan was very cooperative when I screeched at her to "STOP THE CAR" so I could take pictures.  

Oh boy do I want to meet the person whose mind came up with this.

It was a garden of patterns and textures.  The like of which you don't see just anywhere.  

The moral of this story is that adventures that turn into busts can suddenly right themselves given the right perspective.  

who knows what could be found there

Chris and I recently took a field trip to the museum of Natural History in Topeka.

At museums I do not read or look at everything.  Nor do I follow a prescribed path through the exhibits. I am a jumper.  Moving here and there to whatever my eye is attracted to.  

Then I pick something to learn about.  Like the fact that two Native American women could set up a teepee in 15 minutes.  

This sewing bag and display of accessories was most interesting, and I thoroughly enjoyed studying the needlepoint sampler below. The colorful border may be my favorite part.  

The hand pieced quilt, circa 1860, was also most pleasing. The combination of dark and light fabrics and especially that orange and blue.

There is a lot to see here.  And plenty of benches where I could sit and wait for Chris as he meandered through at his own pace.  

There is a nature trail outside the museum.  We are going to come back in the spring (with peanut butter sandwiches), and walk through it. They also have an old train inside the museum that warrants further investigation.  

Plus, a whole building that houses the State Archives. Who knows what could be found there. The older I get, the more interesting I find history.  

an icon for our time

Even though very late to the party, I finally watched RBG recently. It WAS everything I had heard about it.  And more. Which led to the need to capture her in the sketchbook. 

Initially I had her on the page with a white background. But decided the burst of rays was most definitely called for. So I wandered out to the garage to find an old stencil Sister did years ago, and settled on a bright orange acrylic in lieu of a can of spray paint. 

"I ask no favor for my sex.  All I ask of our brethren is that they take their feet off our necks."

                                                               Justice Ruth Bader Ginsberg

 

There is no way to possibly sum up this documentary. Trailer below provided for your viewing pleasure. Highly Recommended.

 

you can have him for eight and three quarters of an hour

This is a completely charming story. Picked up at my public library on a whim. Because on the back it said I would like it if I liked The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night, and Where'd you go Bernadette. Which I certainly did. 

If you also liked them, go get this. Frank is going to become the person you wish was your friend in real life. And if he can't be a permanent fixture in your life, you can have him for eight and three quarters of an hour (if you are listening to the audio version) or however long it takes you to read this book.  

Highly Recommended. I am going to see what else Julia Claiborne Johnson has written. 

and other less identifiable items

Saturday was the perfect day for painting pomegranates.  I have been meaning to try them since I came back from Palm Springs.  

So out came the gouache. Actually it's been sitting on the table since I got back from Palm Springs. Whispering as I walk by it. 
With painting, I have a goal to one day be able to pick up a brush and just start. However, at this point in my artistic life, a general idea of a shape at the outset, done with a pencil, seems to work better for me.   

So that's what I did.  Mixing up the reds, oranges, and browns to come up with just the right shade.  

At this point I went to bed before adding the "seeds".  Giving things a chance to dry.  

Then the decision came to pull out some acrylic paint and do a background.  

Which, by the way was exceedingly enjoyable.  

Almost as much fun as turning all my paint test spots into hearts, flowers, leaves, fried eggs, mittens, a cactus, a bird, and other less identifiable items.

I learned this from Pam Garrison.  The undisputed QUEEN of doodling. The thing is you just have to find your own doodle style. Which is hard. Until you turn off the thinking part of your brain and don't force it. Or expect it to look like someone else doodles. 

I am not built that way

This plethora of snow we have been blessed with of late is great. When you don't have to drive in it, walk in it, dig your car out of it, or slip and fall in it. In other words, if you can hole up at home with books, blankets, a fireplace, and warm beverages, snow is just fine by me. 

The early morning sun shining on it is kind of nice too.  

This all means we have been staying in.  Engaging in a bit of music therapy. We dance, sing, and make dramatic gestures while we listen. Active engagement with the music, in whatever way serves you best, has been proven to lower blood pressure and reduce stress. Which translates to better health.  And if that's not true, it's still a whole lot of fun.  

Snow and cold is also the perfect time to knit.  This vest is scheduled to be worn in a week.  Which seemed do-able until I did a 3 needle bind off with wrong sides instead of right sides together and then had to rip it out so I wouldn't have a giant ridge on my shoulder.  One day I may learn to review techniques before embarking.  Maybe. 

Staying inside is also good for getting some progress made on your needlepoint. I might do better at finishing things if I stuck to one project at a time. But I am not built that way.  

There was also the lovely distraction of birds chirping directly outside the sliding glass door in the dining room.   

A pair of cardinals are nesting in there. I see them flying in and out but I dare not get too curious for fear of chasing them away; causing them to pull up roots and relocate to a different neighborhood tree. 

With another bout of snow set to fall at any minute, over a large portion of the country, I am curious what you all are doing to occupy your time.  Mostly in case I am missing out on some sort of fun activity that I should be signing Chris and I up for.  

Glen Close is masterful

In our ongoing quest to see as many of the movies and performances nominated for academy awards, we watched The Wife this week.  Glen Close, who took home the Golden Globe for her portrayal of the wife of a man who wins the Nobel prize in literature, is simply masterful.  

Highly recommended.  

my forever February cocktail

Five days ago, on February 10th, I told you about the best chocolate martini I have ever made.  Because confirmation never hurts, I repeated the recipe on the 11th and then again on the 12th. I will also be having one today during cocktail time.  Which will commence at exactly 3:45pm CST.  

This has become my February cocktail. From now until forever. I made it the same way each time, except that I saw in the photo I showed you a bottle of Contreau and then told you I used Gran Marnier when if fact I used Contreau.  It could be that both will work just the same, but in the name of full transparency I wanted to call that to your attention.  

The other thing you MUST know about, right now, passed on to me by Dottie just this morning, is below.  I have already watched it 7 times.  

Happy Saturday, happy listening, happy chocolate martini month.  

The end.  

roses are red, violets are blue

Happy hearts, flowers, candy, pink and red, streamers, ruffles, and chocolates to each of you.

With love, on every day, but especially on Valentines day.
I tried, and tried, and tried some more to come up with a great "Roses are red...." poem for the occasion.  
But I can not for the life of me get this one, from 3rd grade, out of my head. "Roses are red, violets are blue, your nose is shaped like a B-52". As a result, nothing else will come to me. Please don't let that stop you from sharing your best ones with all of us.  

none less enjoyable as a result

Since returning from Palm Springs, Sister and I have resumed our regular FaceTime SketchTime sessions. While she has been making masterpieces I have been having great fun spreading paint on pages.

Some outcomes more pleasing than others.  None less enjoyable as a result. 

"...art is not a mirror held up to reality..."

Current status of my inspiration board. Things I want to make, do, consider, delight in, and dream about.

From the Writers Almanac Sunday, "Art is not a mirror held up to reality but a hammer with which to shape it".  Bertolt Brecht

the cake lovers guide to birthdays

Today my partner in life, crime, walking/hiking, cooking & cleaning, driveway clearing, movie watching, museum going, and about 100 other things, is having a birthday.  

I wrapped his present early and put it on the table so he could think about what it might be.

The cake was also purchased in advance. We started eating it Saturday.

Birthday cake should be eaten on the day before the birthday, the actual birthday, the day after the birthday, and then each subsequent day until it's been consumed in it's entirety. It's a rule.

It's from the "Cake Lovers Guide to Birthdays". 

P.S. Isn't this 4 inch layer cake cute?  Perfect for a family of two.  If you live in the area, we got it from McClains Bakery in Lawrence.

the best chocolate martini I have ever made

It's been a month of Sundays since a drink recipe appeared on this blog. That is a serious oversight,

that is about to be rectified. Just in time for Valentines Day.

The idea got in my head when the Pioneer Woman make a chocolate martini this morning. Except this isn't that recipe. Which did look really good, and I would drink it in a second if you put it in front of me. But I did not have any chocolate ice cream or orange flavored vodka on hand.  So, this is kind of a mash up that got changed even further when I went to pour the Godiva chocolate liqueur and discovered it was curdled.  

Here goes:  1 ounce vodka, 1 1/2 ounces of creme de cacao, 1/2 ounce grand marnier (oops forgive me, I used Contreau) and 1 1/2 ounce half and half.  Pour it all in a shaker full of ice and shake well.  Then let is rest for a second.  While it's resting grate some chocolate with a microplane zester and add 1/2 tsp sugar, mix together on a plate or other surface for rimming your glass.  Run a slice of orange around the rim of your glass and then twirl the glass in the chocolate/sugar mixture.  Give that cocktail shaker one final mix and strain into your freshly rimmed glass.  

I think this is the best chocolate martini I have ever made.  It is now the only one I will make. Serve with pistachios, pretzels, popcorn, all thee, or nothing at all.  Sometimes (as in this case) necessity is the mother of a very good invention.  

he wanted to help with the heart activities

This morning, while the red house finches frolicked in the front garden, investigating the greenery in my fountain, as they chirped away like nobody's business, the hearts marched up from the basement.

Along with some other stuff.

And insisted upon being installed.

Above the dining room table.

Where they normally reside in February. 
Last year it looked like they were on their last leg.  But today I decided they are only getting better with age.  

If you have old calendars, papers, or cards, that you don't want to throw away because they are so pretty, but don't know what to do with them... make hearts!

It's serious fun. And you can do lots of things with them. Touch them. Look at them. Smile at them. String them together or leave them single. You get the idea. 

As I worked, the birds moved to the back yard. There were 12 on this bush until I tried to take a photo, and they all flew away.  

Or it could have been Harvey that scared them away. He wanted to help with the heart activities, he didn't mean to frighten them.

Other morning activities included a bowl of steel cut oats with cherry jam, blueberries, apples, walnuts, and greek yogurt on top.  After which I texted Steve (#1 Mulvenon Jam Maker) to be sure I am on the list for another jar next year. If you haven't tried jam instead of other sweeteners on your oatmeal you don't know what you are missing.  

a mysterious fable

The Alchemist was written way back in 1988, and while familiar with the title, my investigation into it never went any further than that. Until last week.  When I spotted it at the library, sitting out on a shelf of books to consider. And I bit.  

It's a different sort of story, and took me back to the old days of reading. When I would race home from the library as a 10 year old kid and find a spot all alone in the house to begin a new book. I remember being spellbound by tales. Not certain where they were going, but knowing I was along on an adventure that was totally out of my realm of being. 

About half way through I did some searching on line and discovered the author is Brazilian, and it was originally written in Portuguese. Ah. That's why it felt mysterious. The best way I can describe it is as a fable. Which I was totally open to and thoroughly enjoyed. 

It's a quick read/listen. Just a bit over 4 hours. If you are on a quest to discover your personal legend maybe you will want to read it. I loved it.  Highly recommended.  

I am curious what others thought of it. Do tell us.  

go with your favorite old-timer

We went to see Stan & Ollie this weekend.  Highly recommended.

On Tuesday at work, when sharing what we had seen with the 27, 30, and 33 year olds I was working with, they had never heard of Laurel and Hardy. Insert sound of jaw dropping here.  

So listen, if you go, take a 20 or 30 something with you, because this kind of comic genius does not come around everyday. The lines, the timing, the dancing, simple perfection. All things to be marveled at. The story is wonderful and John C. Reilly and Steve Coogan were splendid (as were their wives!)

If you can't find a young whipper-snapper to take with you. Go with your favorite old timer (and take a Kleenex). Then go out to dinner and talk about how amazing they were and how good it is to be getting older and have known comedy at it's finest.

tightly furled beauties

Looking at the seed catalog made me need flowers. You heard me. Need, not want.

So off to the store I went.

For a simple Kalancho. Which I always get in February and then put out on the front porch in May.

But then I spotted these limey-pink carnations.

Tightly furled beauties. They do make me HAPPY.

And heart/pigtail girl also NEEDED to have some flowers surrounding her. We are both very happy. The end.  

catching up, revisiting, and getting acquainted

Before I left for California in January, I finished listening to Flavia de Luce #6. Number 5 was not available on CD at the library, so I leap frogged over it and proceeded along. Flavia is growing up. Things are changing. The stories are richer as the other characters continue to get "fleshed out". I am ready to start #7, but am debating with myself about the need to run back and snare #5. Decisions decisions.  

In other matters of a somewhat bookish nature, I have been catching up, revisiting, and getting acquainted with this stack.

And one last thing - only related because the catalog was stuck in the middle of this pile on my bedside table, the zinnia seed selection lottery has begun.  

Last year 6 or 7 packets were purchased. I am limiting myself to 8 this year. Nine at the very most.  

the gift of a well tended garden for all to enjoy

This is it. The last photos from the LA/PS art retreat. On the day we left, after packing up the car, but before hitting the 210 and heading east, we made a stop at Arlington Gardens.

Where there are ginormous specimens tucked into a quiet spot in the city,

and you can tie a message to a tree 

or sit and listen to the birds in the trees

while you marvel at the unusual specimens

and dream of the fountain of succulents you will plant when you are in your 80's.

There is also the labyrinth to walk.  With little pink jewels from the California Pepper tree underfoot, that release a lovely aroma when  crushed as you walk.  

More tables and chairs for drawing, resting, thinking, looking

with golden succulents nearby to behold 

and overhead century plants reaching up to the palms. 

And on and on and on.  

A little jewel in the city.  Reminds me of the Kaufman gardens by the plaza in Kansas City. Very different, yet with the intent of presenting the gift of a well tended garden, for all to enjoy.  

the packaging of Trader Joe's dark chocolate bars

In the name of cleaning, which it really wasn't but lets just go with it, I pulled out old folders, calendars, papers, tape, stickers, and mail art from sister today and decided it was high time to reinforce folders, use up stuff, and throw out what no longer appeals.  

I am making a folder for all the trips being taken this year.  Tucking in things I want to do while there, adding important information which shouldn't get lost, and enhancing the overall enjoyment of each trip by looking forward to it - starting now. All while using up stuff. Win. Win. Win.

The note made to myself on the Palm Springs folder way back in 2013 could not be collaged over.  Bird stickers, which had been hiding in the supply closet, are being affixed to all folders.  You can't have too many cute bird stickers.  

The inspiration board update also got started. This page was torn out of Taproot magazine. Isn't it wonderful? I wish I had thought to tear out the name of the artist too.  

Stuff also got taped into the everyday journal today.  Before it could go missing.  

Sister and I had a FaceTime Sketchtime session as well.  This is what I did last week when we talked.  

Doesn't everyone want to paint the packaging of Trader Joe's dark chocolate bars?  

one of those bible classics where there are grasshopper plagues and the seas get parted

While we were in Palm Springs, we ventured south to the Indian Canyons for a stroll.  

I told sister I felt like I was on the set of an old Charlton Heston movie.  You know one of those bible classics where there are grasshopper plagues and seas get parted.  And babies go floating down the stream in baskets fashioned from palm fronds.  

The palms were immense, the cliffs were rocky, and the stream flowed noisily through it all.  We did not see any babies in baskets that needed rescuing.  

This is a GREAT spot to visit if you are coming to Palm Springs.  I am really glad we finally discovered it on Art Retreat No. 7.

There were great spots for picnics and tables for sketching which we will do next time for sure.  

 

We did the one mile Andreas Canyon trail but there are longer trails in Palm Canyon and Murray Canyon.

These trails are well maintained and very do-able for all skill levels. A whole other side of Palm Springs that we highly recommend you take advantage of when you go.