Two Butterballs in a Tub

I said that I'd explain my blatant nakedness with a turkey featured in my last post. Here goes...

Our family laughs all the time. My mother's family depended upon laughter to get them through winters where they dug frozen potatoes out of the ground with mittenless fingers in order to have a bit of supper. These were the children doing this task mind you. Despite hunger and poverty they sang often and laughed much. So I received part of my sense of humor from this stalwart group. My father also had a wicked sense of humor, and when I say, "wicked," I mean it. Unfortunately I absorbed some of his ornery ways, love the practical joke, and have had to apologize numerous times when I've gone into paroxysms of laughter over someone slipping on ice. You are supposed to ask if they are O.K. before you double over laughing. There are worse things that make me laugh inappropriately that I will not elaborate upon lest you judge me of ill character. I am working on being a better person, really I am, tee hee.

Two friends that have brought an enormous amount of joy and humor into our lives, Timmy and John, are kings of the practical joke, and have done more things to me than I can go into here. Really, it would take a book. Just one example here should do. One Christmas I came home to find that these boys had completely dismantled my Christmas tree and re-decorated it in a completely GOP theme. (I am a liberal and proud - surprised?) There were pictures of George Bush all over it, everything red, white and blue imaginable, including enough patriotic tinsel to decorate, oh, say ten trees. So thanks to them, that year I had a "Best Little Whorehouse in Texas" Christmas tree. Just what I always wanted.

The turkey incident was just one of my little attempts to keep up with them and retaliate. They were coming for Thanksgiving, and both are just a bit fastidious about food. So I got this idea for a little movie that would gross them out. Disclaimer: I have a food service sanitation certificate so I do understand the proper way to thaw poultry and would never do this for real. I ran a tub of water, plopped a turkey in and started my film. It began with the faucet, then water running - pan to my razor on edge of tub, soap, other hygiene items - then slowly pan down to turkey. I sent the little movie to them saying that I couldn't wait to see them for dinner. Thankfully this got a good yuck, turkey went into refrigerator and all was normal - until next morning. Then it hit me. A brilliant idea if I do say so and I will. I said to my daughter Tess, "Wouldn't it be funny if we put the turkey back into the tub and it looked like it had been in there all this time and I was just taking a bath with it casually?" She didn't even blink, told me to soap up my vital parts and ran to get the bird and her phone. She snapped the pic and that was that. Rub a dub dub, two butterballs in a tub. Now does this all make perfect sense to you? I thought so.

The moral of the story is: Laugh. Laughing like fools has carried my family through some of life's mightiest storms. Laugh with friends and family, or just at yourself. I crack myself up several times a day. And I can still hear the distinct laughter of people that I've know that are no longer with us. Think about that. Our laughter might be creating a powerful and memorable impression for someone else. Can you hear someone too?

JOHNNY, TIMMY AND ME

(Geez, are those puka beads Timmy???)

Time Flies and Nude Bathing with Butterball

Thanksgiving, thesis, jewelry orders, teaching, sleepwalking and chicken herding have been keeping me whirling. I shall write an explanation about the nude photo of me in this post later when I have a second. Just know that it is ART not porno, and was done for comedic purposes. I've been busy. In short, I defended a thesis proposal, am ready to release an eductional survey online nationally, participated in a jewelry show, have taught children who say things like, "Gee you are such a gweat artist - I think you would win any art contest for older citizens," have done this on a wee amount of sleep as usual, and finally, rescued some chickens. Another story - later. For now, here are two photos for you. The first is entitled, "Nude Bathing with Butterball," and the second is one of my rescue chickens, 'Swizzlestick.' She is making her Zoolander face.

O.K. I lied more photos of a few new jewels.

And how about shooting me some comments folks?? I really love comments. It's lonely here at this very old computer without your input...

Jimmy Fallon "Morrison"

Thank goodness for comedians! This made me laugh before I hit play. Just his stance told me that Jimmy Fallon had nailed Jim Morrison. And the theme from Reading Rainbow? Too funny.

Making Rings and Male Anatomy - Worlds Colliding

Some of my jewelry friends will not make rings because they consider them to be too hard. To an extent this is true, because this little piece of art has to fit perfectly on a person's imperfectly shaped finger.  So why am I so attracted to making them?? I love the whole process, but the sizing part can be really tricky. Precious metal clays are pure metal in combination with an organic binder that burns off in firing. Therefore, as George Costanza used to say, "Significant Shrinkage."

And, to make matters worse, each material: bronze, silver, copper, etc., shrinks at a different rate. If that's not hard enough to deal with, here's the clincher: The piece also shrinks in response to placement in the kiln, size of piece, thickness, width...you get it. Like I said...tricky. There are some ways to get around this, and I've tried them. My favorite is the product called "Hatties Patties." (I like these so much that I named one of my hens after the designer - Hattie Sanderson. To make a ring Hattie tells us to make the ring two sizes larger than needed and insert one of her patties into the middle when firing. The metal shrinks to the patty and no further. When done you just drop the whole thing into a cup of water, and the patty dissolves like an alka-seltzer. I don't know what these things are made of, but you are not supposed to dump the solution down the sink. Hmmm. And then there is my pride. Something about using them makes me feel like I'm cheating. I keep thinking that real artisans don't have to use a crutch, that they can become one with the material and intuit its behavior. But the currently outrageous price of silver makes proper experimentation too costly. I'm working at learning though, and hope to eventually be patty-free!

The first rings I made for Heather and Fran were too small. The second ones worked out.

My friends love nature, so the choice of tree bark bands was perfect for them. The tree represents fidelity and fulfillment - what could be more perfect. I am now selling these bands, along with a few other fine silver rings, on my Etsy shop. They are a lovely gift for anyone, and the ideal 5th anniversary gift of wood-related symbol. 

Other rings: 

Tree knot with bark band, 6 mm laboratory gemstone CZ (I use lab stones for humanitarian and environmental reasons.)

Little Leaf on Vine Ring

My rings are handcrafted in fine silver, (pure silver) - as opposed to sterling, which contains base metal. Order one up, and I promise it will be perfect! Guaranteed.

On Clairvoyance, Age, & Unlikely Friendship

Clairvoyance runs through my mother's family. My late Aunt Gin and I have been the most recent clairvoyants that I know of, but there were always stories of others. Unfortunately, my aunt's unusual sensory perception was much the same as mine - not so good for important things, but fun and surprising to others, much like sleight of hand. As a child, I was really in tune with it, and could always win games with friends, especially at birthday parties. There I'd be, buzzed from eating all the roses off of everyone else's white lard cake, red mustachioed and Hawaiian punch drunk, with armfuls of prizes when my parents picked me up. I could always "see" the right number in my head, or draw the right straw, or card, or guess whatever was being hidden. As an adult I've lost my edge a bit, but I can still use intuition in certain arenas, horse races being a favorite. I don't indulge often, but I've done well on the rare occasion that I've placed a bet. For example, I picked the long shot Real Quiet some years back, pocketing a tidy sum and shocking my friend who attended the race and placed the bet for me. But clairvoyance is just a part of this story, not the whole story, and this story is true; I have witnesses.

I met a child named Heather about 25 years ago, when she used to show up at pick-up time to fetch her little brother Jake. (See more about Jacob Foran in my Favorite Artists at top of blog!) She had a "can-do" attitude as she lifted her brother onto her bicycle to ride up our hilly driveway toward their home. She was responsible for her brother at that time of day, and one could tell that she took her job seriously. A few years later, I met her again during the worst time of my life. My twelve year-old son Nick had died suddenly, and the cemetery was packed with mourners on a sunny August day. People were spontaneously saying a few words about Nick. To my surprise, this little girl stood and told a little, sweet story describing Nick at school. It gave me this beautiful little secret insight into my son's secret life with his friends at school, and the best thing was, it brought me the first chuckle I'd had for many days.

A few more years went by and I took leave from teaching and opened Cafe Cody. Guess who applied to be a barista? A sixteen year-old girl named Heather.

HEATHER MAKIN' PERFECT FOAMED MILK

HEATHER AND CODY PLUMP FROM A CINNAMON ROLL PER DAY

Photo Credit: Lindsey Fortney

As I've mentioned in a previous post, the cafe was just supposed to be a coffee shop. It evolved into something way beyond that, and before we knew it, we had a restaurant. Heather was with me all the way, a right-hand man. She and I could sync so well that we still laugh about times where we were so swamped, but the two of us could run that whole place by ourselves if we had to. She learned to waitress, cook and bake, and charm customers with her big smile. We had many regulars...the guys who had the same breakfast each and every morning, and hung their own coffee mugs in an old cabinet. We also had our usuals who came for fantastic espresso drinks that we made with our completely manual espresso machine - run shots 18 - 22 seconds every time! One of our favorites was Fran, a nature fellow of about my age. Heather called him her "Woodsy Guy." One day as she was preparing his latte, I sensed an energy, and when he left, I announced to the crew: "Someday Heather's gonna marry that guy." Well of course my group of teens fell apart, and Heather laughed the hardest and said, "Yeah right, someday I'll marry my Woodsy Guy." 

Time passed and eventually I closed the cafe because I couldn't handle the physical work load. It was a sad time. Heather had put herself through U of I working for me, and working a highway job at night. She received her anthropology degree and took off to trek the world. It seems she went everywhere, and did these things by herself. Hiking New Zealand, India, Thailand, Australia, and more places that I don't remember. She had many boyfriends as beautiful young girls do.

Heather and Gerardo one of Cafe Cody's cooks (not a boyfriend, but could I tell another story...)

Heather in an ice cave in New Zealand

When she returned from her travels, I was delighted to learn that she was seeking Montessori certification, and in a couple of years, we were working together again. One could not ask for a better employee or truly professional guide of young children. We have a ball together once again!

Heather is currently supplementing her Montessori education with Infant Toddler Training.

I need to make this long story short, but the title says something about age, so just a few words. Just one of my many criticisms of traditional education is the way children are lumped together by age. This just breeds a hotbed of competition, while they constantly rate themselves against others instead of acknowledging differences and helping others. There. Heather is my dear, dear, friend and she is decades younger than I am. Age doesn't matter! My father fell in love with my mother when he was 49 and she was 19 - you can bet they were the talk of the town! Age didn't matter to them either. Where am I going with this? A couple of weeks ago, Miss Heather and I did our usual Monday morning sharing of what we did over the weekend. I told her some boring stuff I did, and she replied with a smug grin, "Guess what I did this weekend?" I raised my eyebrows. "I married Fran Harty out in the woods!" 

TA DUM!!! Yay! When she called her sister to say they'd eloped, her sister reminded her of the time I predicted she'd marry him some day... Briefly, Fran, (Woodsy Guy) and Heather ran into each other a few years ago, became friends, became camping friends, and now they are husband and wife! I still get nice little goosebumps and tears thinking about how this all unfolded. Cool, huh?

MR. AND MRS. FRAN HARTY with children from Metamorphosis Montessori School, counting mussels on the Sangamon River. The Woodsy Guy is a naturalist with the Nature Conservancy.

CONGRATULATIONS FRAN AND HEATHER HARTY!

A small marriage keepsake that I made for Heather from rose bronze and original bronze. When Fran saw it he asked me to make their wedding rings. This is a tall order, a challenge, and an honor. I predict I can do it. We've come full circle.

Hooey Batiks

The next couple of posts are going to be about friendship. I was going to write about my friend Heather this week, but now that I have had a couple of glasses of Sleepy Creek Vineyards "Hen Pecked," I've realized that I'm not up to the job. So--Jill Miller at Hooey Batiks...an amazing talent. I used to pooh-pooh Facebook and still think it's a bad thing for young people. That being said, I have met some of my favorite friends on FB, and Jill is one. We usually talk chickens, and something she doesn't know is I've named a Dominique "Hooey" in her honor.
 (I bought an aqua tank with chicks and it is wonderful.)

I finally met Jill in person at the Art Festival that was held at Sleepy Creek Vineyards a couple of weeks ago. By the way, I highly recommend this little vineyard, an artful atmosphere, live music and really good wine. I was very pleasantly surprised by the flight that I tasted!!

Before I met Jill, I saw her great monkey shirt when my friend Heather wore it. Then I bought a few of her things at The Wooden Hanger in Urbana, Illinois--fantastic clothing...and nice wrap bracelets when a certain artist gets around to making and taking them to Ginny Gluege, the creative and artistic owner.

THE SQUIRREL KILLS ME. I NEED ONE.

So what I'm getting around to in my red wine haze is: Jill is a creative force and a neat person! Check out her work and buy some stuff for gifts, and for all that holiday stuff. Buy Handmade!

Hooey Batiks 

Cafe Cody

 I'm going to add a Cafe Cody post every once in a while, and each time I'll include a little background story, some photos and one recipe.

Cafe Cody was my accidental restaurant and a dream come true. It started after I became inspired by a speech given by a representative from the governor's Main Street program. Our little town was going for the Main Street entitlements and I liked the idea of restoring our pure Victorian square. One thing lead to another and I bought a building that was a derelict pool hall. Actually the entire square was in sad shape with broken windows and urine smells from the old stoops. Cosmetic renovations from the seventies had made it even worse visually. Most of the Victorian facades were covered with horrible cedar shake awnings that my dad, a local contractor, had installed and thought quite spiffy back then. My husband and I had completed a number of restoration projects before this, but looking back I'm thinking we were pretty brave!

 

Michael and Jim thinking, "What has she gotten us into this time?"

It didn't take long to strip off the metal facade above and find the details underneath. I hand scraped the entire front and as I was working one day I discovered that what I thought were huge painted boards above the lower windows were actually huge windows too! But one of the best finds was the original doors in the basement. After I stripped them and Jim bought restoration hardware they were gorgeous. We began pulling up vinyl tile floor and found the original pine floor complete with pickle barrel stain. We sanded lightly and sealed and loved them. The remodel took us a full year--our own hands and some help from our friends. We also created apartments above. When the building was a grocery in 1888 the merchants always lived above. My father once told me that on hot evenings everyone took their pillows out and slept on the courthouse lawn.

But I digress...Anyway the idea for the building was to have coffees, some catered in pastries, and I would sell arty gifts and some vintage. Ha! In future posts I'll reveal how this little experiment turned in to a full-fledged restaurant, (with no equipment of course.)

Here's how the cafe turned out:

Cafe Cody

And in the early breakfast hour, a lawyer from the courthouse gearing up for his day, and the "Scrambled Eggs and Don't Cut the Toast Guy."

B R O W N I E S

O.K. On the subject of brownies, I can't just release this recipe into cyberspace without a few caveats. First of all, know that I am a person who has had an intimate relationship with brownies for most of my life. I once went on a quest for the perfect brownie, and for over a year my children came home to every kind of batch imaginable. When I was enduring a terrible grief, I often made bowls of batter and ate that. They never were baked I just wanted to perform the act of putting them together - then I would sit and eat brownie batter till I was under control. So, all this being said, also understand that there are many, many kinds of good and great brownies, and I like several recipes. In this particular one, however, I was going for a texture I remembered from a baker that I loved named Hessie. Hers had high sides that were so chewy that they got stuck in your teeth. They were not caky but more like a cookie chewy and they had plenty of icing. That's what these are like...for the first day. Then they turn into something equally as wonderful after the atmosphere has worked on them. If there were a heaven they would be heaven's fudge at this point. Women on break from their office jobs were known to claw each other for them around three o'clock each day. If we ran out...well...if looks could kill. 

FOLLOW THE DIRECTIONS COMPLETELY AND TO A TEE OR I'M NOT RESPONSIBLE...

CAFE CODY KILLER BROWNIES

OVEN 375 DEGREES

Place five fresh eggs and 3 2/3 cups of white granulated sugar into a mixing bowl and mix on medium speed for TEN MINUTES.

While the sugar mixture is going:

Melt THREE sticks of B U T T E R (no substitutes) (let cool a bit)

Stir into the melted butter: 1 1/4 cups of Hershey's cocoa

                                          1 teaspoon fresh baking powder

                                          1/2 teaspoon Kosher salt

                                          AND 1/2 teaspoon fresh baking soda that's been dissolved in 1 teaspoon H2O

Gently FOLD this chocolate mixture into the sugar/egg mixture. Add 2 teaspoons good vanilla. Do not under any circumstances use fake vanilla. 

Now add 2 2/3 cups good white flour (add a bit at a time pulsing mixer a few times)

We also added 2 cups of walnut halves and gave a brief pulse of the mixer to the whole batch.

Use a rubber scraper to get all the batter into a heavy metal 9 x 14 inch baking pan. Then take the scraper and smash down the center area of batter smushing some batter into high sides.

OVENS are different, but we baked at 375 degrees for 30 to 35 minutes. I usually go 32. (If the top stays puffed up when you tap it you probably went too long, but they'll still be tasty.) Time and temp. are part of the science of baking, and truly make a world of difference in cookies and brownies.

When cool ice:

In mixer: 1 stick softened butter, add 4 - 5 cups powdered sugar gradually as you slowly add 1/2 cup of heavy cream, 1/2 cup Hershey's cocoa, 1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla and a good pinch of Kosher salt.

Slather it all on from center up to about 1/4 inch from the sides. Let set for an hour or two. (If you want mocha brownies just add coffee granules to taste to batter and icing.)

If you did this right you will get these: