I have no pictures of the boob bowls.....but....

Check out this art bowl - vanilla glass, shot through with holes the way the sea erodes the shells...so organic....AND I MADE IT!
Here is a closeup...
The boob bowls didn't get made - my idea and the artist's idea weren't exactly the same so she worked on her special project and I made two new ones for gifts. Next time, I will make the boob bowl I had in mind....sort of a frosted glass, white or clear frosted, with a blob in the bottom for the nipple. I promise I'll show you!!

My two projects last night were a rectangular plate with a black and white striped edge and two fanciful chickens on a translucent green background. The second project was an experiment. I constructed it the same way I did the vanilla art bowl above but used translucent glass strips and bits. It's very tricky - you don't just lay scraps down, but rather must be carefully put together like a puzzle. Every bit of glass must be touching another bit and you can go three layers high. You want the holes to accent, not take over and that's tricky too. Then the whole piece is kiln-melted flat and then put in the kiln again to be slumped over a bowl mold. The vanilla one was sandblasted to give it a matte finish but I don't think I'm going to do that with the new one - I'll have to wait until it comes out of the kiln to see. It's always a surprise and so exciting!

I am so busy today and all I want to do is play with glass! I'm also sewing a dolly for Kiley for her birthday. I made her six little summer dresses (pics will come tomorrow) and matching headbands. I had some fabric left over so I'm making dolly dresses - really simple little shifts. This is her first doll! And I can't wait to give it to her.

Why o why does work always have to get in the way of fun? I had a veggie conference this a.m., a festival meeting this evening and then a night meeting with the federal EPA regarding a SuperFund site.....I'd much rather cut glass and sew dolly dresses!

Tonight will be spectacular!

Four of my favorite things will be involved:
1. crabmeat dip
2. wine
3. boobs and boob related stuff
4. art

Remember the bra project I invited you to a while back?
And remember the glass classes I'm taking?
Well, artist extraordinaire Alyssa and I will be making BOOB BOWLS!
They will be frosted glass with a small dark blob in the bottom...
We will sell them on the silent auction table at the bra project auction....

I CAN'T WAIT! and I promise to take pictures all evening and entertain you with them tomorrow!

Off with the lights and on with conserving.

Last night, in the midst of fun discussions and a good card game at my friends John and Sue's, we turned off all the lights in honor of Earth Hour. We kept playing and talking by candlelight and just slightly touched on the topic of energy conservation.

But it really got me thinking this morning. We all know about energy efficient light bulbs. We all know about water reducing shower heads. But I question whether I am doing enough...I want to leave the smallest footprint possible on this glorious Earth. I wonder if I am even doing my share.
I admit that I run the dishwasher probably too often. I certainly could wash by hand each day (It's just me, after all!) And I keep lots of stuff plugged in when it's not is use: televisions, cell phone chargers, coffee makers...I'm going to try to remember to pull the plugs all the time.

How about trip consolidation to save gas? Now that the weather is better, I can walk to the post office, library and office from my home. I need to be more disciplined with that. I think I do a good job of running errands on the fly: if I'm driving by the hardware store, that is when I'll stop; I combine many stops into one trip. I think I'll give myself an A for that.

How about consumerism and the packaging of what I buy? I get an A here too. I really am aware of plastic containers and always try to buy glass (it can be recycled easier and at a greater return for our town) I reuse jars and plastic bags (fruit and veggie ones) I use cloth bags when I shop. And I won't buy a product that has plastic, wrapped in plastic, wrapped in plastic over cardboard. So wasteful.

I am an avid recycler. I am really REALLY careful and I am so lucky to live in a town that not only allows recycling of ALL kinds of plastic, glass, all cardboards, newspaper, office paper, used oil, metals, wood, and tin cans. I also toss out some of my waste to the birds in the park: lettuce scraps, veggie peels, etc.

The one area that I can't seem to get away from is paper. I seem to get a lot of mail - press releases, etc. - that can be done through email. I get probably 15 to 20 individual pieces of paper mail each day (just for the office) and two newspapers or more. I am going to make an effort to contact each of these organizations and suggest email and may cancel my subscription to some of the marginal papers and read them online.

Any other ideas out there?

You've noticed I'm not talking about the diet.

But first, I felt like being random so here is a happy picture of my daughter, Faye, and little Kiley at an aquarium in Connecticut. Those are Look Down Fish...imaginative naming, huh?

Okay, I am being dragged - kicking and screaming - back to the diet.
Here is what I ate yesterday:
one cup of coffee with milk and sugar
a bagel with veg. cream cheese (and then ate another spoonful of cream cheese)
a salad
two handsful of pretzels (I have SUCH a thing for pretzels)
a small bowl of popcorn
five glasses of caffeine-free Coke with ice
two chicken sandwiches on rye with lettuce, mayo and cranberry sauce
1/4 bag crunchy cheetos

WTH was I thinking? of course, I WASN'T thinking. I was eating, reacting.
My diet has self-destructed.

I'm going to take the weekend to reflect, clean out my frig of all IMPROPER foods, and refocus. I just don't understand why I sabotage myself at every turn. My motivation was pure; my determination was strong; I was doing well. And then - like a switch was turned on (or off?) I just started eating whatever I wanted. Emotional eating, of course. I am better than this.

I haven't weighed myself so I don't know how much damage I did.
I'm going to think of this as a rest stop: you know, you are cruising along the interstate, doing about 72. The music is good on the radio, you are comfortable in your seat.
And then you make a rest stop.
On the way out of the car, you step in gum.
Once inside, the sound is really echo-ey and unpleasant.
The bathroom is messy and there is no paper. There are no towels to dry your hands so you end up using the butt of your jeans.
No one will look you in the eye. The coffee is too hot and too strong and cost $4 and you can't wait to get out of there.

That's it - this mess is a pit stop and I'm getting back on the road. Grab the wheel, Sharon, after all - YOU are in control of this ride.

sheeeeee's walking!

There she goes, my little 11-month-old (already?) Kiley, walking across her Uncle Dave's kitchen floor. Apparently she is holding her own hand for support....she started a week ago with one or two steps and now there is no stopping her! See the Irish sweater she's wearing? We call it "The Sweater" - I bought that sweater in 1966 for my brother Christopher, who was born on St. Patrick's Day. Every child born in our family since then has worn the sweater and then passed it to the next baby. It got to the point that family members trying to avoid pregnancy wouldn't even touch the sweater.
This is my grandson James, sporting a brand new permanent tooth that looks so HUGE in his little face. James is in second grade, loves skateboarding, dancing like Michael Jackson and sometimes goes by the name of Tootie. He has a hysterical sense of humor. He also wore the sweater.
This is my first grandson, Joseph, trying on his serious, deep-thinker look. Joey is a gifted skateboarder, a great student in school, plays guitar, and is wildly popular at school. He is the thinker - a bit more quiet and reserved than James, but can also be hysterically funny. He also wore the sweater.
So did Terry, Robin, Sarah, Jessica, David, Tobin, Amelia, Danny, Faye, and Russell.
Thirteen babies in 43 years - a heritage sweater. I can't wait to see who the little person is that will wear it next.

Thanks for all your support yesterday. It meant a great deal and I felt your well-wishes and even that hug, Libby. I think it did me a world of good to sort of spew out my feelings - writing things down always puts them in perspective and makes them much less scary.
It also helps that today is beautiful - I'm headed out now for a walk with Miss Emma.
I'm much, much better today - more focused and purposeful. Wrote a couple stories for myself and helped a fellow reporter with some background for one of her's.
Tonight is movie night (watching The Savages - it should be funny and warm) and it will be good to have friends in the house...
oh, and don't forget how good the popcorn and wine will be!

Today was all about the sun...and cheese.

These beautiful tulips were greeting the sun on the kitchen table this morning - a gift from my dear, sweet daughter. There is nothing like tulips to soothe my spirits. They watched over me as I ate, drank my coffee and did the crossword puzzle, sending a softorange reflection down on the paper.
Miss Emma found a sunny patch in the bedroom and dreamed of dog bones, digging holes and chasing her tail! Seems like she's been cold all winter. Now - it's just after four as I write this - she is laying on the dining room floor on my painting cloth, again enjoying a warm patch of sun.
And the cheese! This is an artisanal cheese created at Diversity Farm in Troy, Maine. I interviewed Farmer Bob today and visited his farm - an Old MacDonald kind of place with horses, cows, rabbits, chickens and cats dancing in the hay. He makes 7 different kinds of cheese, including this delicious cheddar, and ages them in a cave below his cheeseroom. They develop a breathtaking mold - one looked like silver feathers! - and the rind is delicious as well. He doesn't live too far away and I can see that I will likely be a regular customer!

Oh the sun today! In just the last hour, as I sat here at the computer writing my cheese cave story, I have seen so many signs of spring:
*the dog walkers are out in the park in full force - the dogs are leaping and jumping and so happy to be off leash.
*three young men walked by dribbling a basketball, headed for the courts in the park.
*two of those young men were wearing short sleeves!
*enough snow has melted in the front yard that the realtor's sign that disppeared sometime last December has just reappeared.
*children on bicycles are EVERYWHERE!
*the entire girls' softball team from the local high school just went jogging by.

Also, between here and the farm in Troy, I saw THREE clotheslines filled with flapping laundry...ahhh that smell...
And the good news? Tomorrow is supposed to be even nicer. Finally. I needed this weather and the sun today.
I'm still having trouble processing my son's stabbing.
I can't get past that someone tried to kill my child. That someone slid a knife into his belly button as if he wasn't a friend, a son, a father, a brother - a person that MATTERED to other people. As if he was a chicken sandwich or a chocolate cake or something that didn't cry or laugh or tickle. If this had been an accident, like a car crash or he fell off a ladder, well, somehow that would be so much easier to deal with. But to think that his life, his pain mattered so little to someone. That whoever did this had no thought that this was a human being, a living breathing person he was stabbing....it's hard to get my head around that.

My thoughts are a bit fractured. I'm making mistakes (I upset my BFF Trudy yesterday because I wasn't paying attention) and I can't seem to focus on anything. Yesterday I couldn't manage to write a single story, when usually I'm good for three or four.
I'm flitting around like spit on a griddle and last night was the first night EVER that I can remember I was afraid of being alone and so after supper, I went out to my son's and visited for a while...

This odd, shaky feeling is better today than yesterday but I still catch myself sort of stopped in mid-work or mid-thought, sort of comatose - just staring vacantly and trying to jump start myself again.
Tonight I'll try sewing for little Kiley's birthday next month and hope that will get me smiling again. If that doesn't work, I'm drinking the other half of Monday's bottle of wine!

How many Kiley women does it take to bathe one baby?

Apparently, we discovered Saturday night, it takes eight.
There is little Kiley, having a tubby because she had ziti and meatballs and sauce from head to toe.
And there is the peanut gallery: my sister Robin, my neices Jessie and Sarah, my brother's sweetheart Margie, my daughter-in-law Amanda, the baby's mother Faye, and myself. All crammed in one tiny bathroom, sitting on the john, the countertop, the floor and piled in the doorway.

It was wonderful! And I knew my mom was right there with us, laughing and joking. There were only three men at the get together for supper and they didn't get it: didn't get why we were all in the bathroom. Didn't get what was so darn funny. Didn't get that this gathering together was a hug. A group hug. We don't get to see each other often enough and giving Kiley a bath was just the excuse we needed to get as close as possible. To smile and laugh and be a family.

Although going to Connecticut was painful, there were some real bright spots:
Getting to see the dress my baby sister has selected to wear to her son's wedding this June.
Visiting in my niece's new home and having bagels and coffee with them.
Catching up with my brother and his sweetie (and mine) Margie.
Sharing a homemade dinner with my son and daughter-in-law.
Having all five little cousins at the same dinner table, smeared in spaghetti sauce, fighting over the garlic bread and hugging each other at every turn.
Spending some very special time with my two grandsons, Joey and James.

It was also educational. My grandson James (who is in second grade) imparted wisdom willy nilly all weekend. Did you know that the first names of the Wright Brothers of the First Flight fame, were DeJuan and Tootie? He swears it's true.

Oh yes, it was just like a hug.

Can life possibly throw me another curve?

Go ahead, universe, hit me again. After this past week, I can handle anything.

Please forgive me for disappearing - my son Mark, 35, who lives in Connecticut, was stabbed last Thursday. He was in the passenger seat of the car, which was being driven by his girlfriend, Chris. They stopped at a light (in a not so nice neighborhood) and a man pulled open Chris's door and tried to drag her out of the car by her hair. It was a carjacking! My son ran around the car to stop him and he stabbed Mark right next to his navel.
The wound was very small - but the knife was long and was twisted when it entered. His bowel was cut.
You know that meant emergency surgery - at 10 p.m.
There was no way I could get there at that hour so I waited until the morning and hit the road. Six hours later, my daughter, her baby Kiley and I arrived at the hospital (after getting lost three separate times during rush hour traffic!)
He is doing well.
The surgery went fine, the infection is under control and he is even farting (which is a very good sign) and yesterday they finally allowed him to drink broth and eat Jello.
Today my daughter and I and the baby drove back to Maine.
I am exhausted - physically and emotionally - but I also have some fun stories to tell. I"ll be back tomorrow after a 1/2 bottle of wine and at least 12 hours of sleep.

I'm inviting you to share in a very special project.

Here is a press release that appeared today in our local paper. I was actually FORCED by the Goddesses of the Universe to head this project after a friend sent me a link to some of the artwork. FORCED by my love for my Aunt Babe, my friends Wendy, Peg, Renata and Beth, and for countless others I know that have been waging or have lost a battle against breast cancer.

Once I saw the amazing beauty and FUN of this project, I could not stop thinking about it, I could not forget it, I had to act. So...I'm inviting any one of you that think you might want to join the fun to read on...If your interested is piqued, check out the website that inspired me: http://www.quiltersofsc.org/artfullbras/artfullbras.htm
and then give me a call. After all, as I said in the release, we all have boobs. This is OUR disease.

CENTRAL MAINE MORNING SENTINEL SATURDAY, MARCH 14

PITTSFIELD -- Brassieres as art?

That's the idea behind a fundraiser to support breast-cancer research under way in central Maine and the organizers are looking for some creative, artistic entries.

Each entrant is asked to decorate a bra -- one of their own, a thrift store find or possibly one from a breast cancer survivor, in any outrageous manner, said event organizer Sharon Mack of Pittsfield.

And the more creative and unique, the better.

"Beads, quilting, feathers, papier-mache or other any medium is acceptable," Mack said in a release. "There are only two rules: Each entry must look like a bra, and each entry must be created by hand."

Inspiration can be found at any number of Web sites that feature art bras, Mack said.

"Every one of us has been touched by breast cancer -- a sister, mother, friend, daughter, or possibly ourselves, and I can't think of a better cause," Mack said. "We know there are a lot of talented women out there that could create some amazing works of art -- bra art."

Mack said she was prompted to spearhead the project, which is called "Bra Babes," after seeing photographs of a similar project conducted in South Carolina.

"The bras were unbelievable," she said. "They were such works of whimsy and imagination. Each made a statement of its own."

Nearly two dozen women have signed up for the project, Mack said. They come from Florida, Connecticut and from all over central Maine.

"Some are breast cancer survivors, others are creating bras so their daughters will never know the fear of breast cancer," she said. "Let's face it, we all have boobs. This cause affects all of us."

The deadline for submissions is July 1 and the goal is to have 40 participants. The bras will be displayed at various locations in central Maine and will ultimately be auctioned off at a special event with all of the proceeds going for breast cancer research.

For more information or to sign up to participate, contact Mack at MaineBraBabes@ hotmail.com.

Five photos of an absolutely amazing, stupendous day!

This is the stupendous part: That is Eric, who limped through the door yesterday and got acquainted with his niece Kiley. He's home from Afghanistan until the 18th. He is well except for his feet, which are all cracked and broken open from wearing boots all the time. When he goes back, he will be there until sometime around Thanksgiving or Christmas. I don't even have the words for how wonderful it was to hold him again and have him close...
Here's the ridiculous: Kiley sucking up a beefaroni - what a mess! and what fun! She has been here since Sunday and goes back home tomorrow....boo hoo
While she is here, she is learning how to climb stairs. Her own house is all on one floor and she's got the going up part down pat...it's the coming back down part that needs work!
The last two pictures are a treat: they were some of the food at Saturday's Full Moon Party III. Hazel, the British Marine, made chocolate chip meringues with orange zest and carmelized orange wedges with red pepper....oh so good!
And BFF Trudy made puff pastry squares topped with carmelized onions, fig puree and goat cheese. Amazing!
So, with baby here and son home you may not see too many posts over the next couple of days...but think of me exalting in all this ! I am a happy, happy woman today!

Mr. Barkless and the case of the bazillion homeless dogs.

Here is my "walk 100 steps and make a photo" challenge today. Mr. Barkless, who holds my pens on my desk, and apparently is guarding an empty notebook. And can you see that tiny little fly on his stinky little butt? And the outraged look he is giving that fly? Clearly that fly is not his neighbor, his pet, or even his friend. If I were the fly, I'd haul ass.

Since Mr. Barkless is barkless, which likely means he cannot speak either, I'll tell his story:
I was asked to create a "treasure box" for the Bangor Children's Discovery Museum fundraiser a few years ago. The museum provided wooden boxes (quite large, actually, about 12'' high, 18'' long, 12'' deep) to a group of artists and we were left to our imaginations.
I thought I would make it like a doghouse, with dozens of dogs all over it. The treasure box full of "guard dogs" would protect and watch over any child that became its owner.
So I went on eBay and Craig's List and through every bric-a-brac shop within 100 miles and bought every porcelian, china or stone doggie I could find. I have about 100: big ones, little ones, a small dog sitting in a pee pot, two dachshunds with heads that bobble, dogs playing musical instruments and Mr. Barkless...I have dog pins. Dog brooches. Dog medallions. I literally went to the dogs.

Now, I wasn't going to put Mr. Barkless on the treasure box (which would have been covered with broken china and glass tiles in a reckless kind of doggie pattern....upon reflection, what the heck is a doggie pattern?) but I couldn't resist his little face, which as you have already noticed I'm sure, because you have nothing better to do than listen to me prattle on about every detail of my life, his face looks just like my little EMMA! (see my Nov. 12, 2008 post for confirmation of this amazing look-alike coincidence which has nothing to do with the fact that ALL Boston Terriers have the same face.)

And then I changed my mind.

And I did a tea party. A tiny china tea set was on top and it was all done in pink and white and green. It really did come out well and was the second highest cash getter at the fundraiser auction. I did meself proud.

And now I am left with a gazillion homeless dogs. Big dogs. Little dogs. Oh, I already told you that. So, what to do? What to do? I must come up with an art project for a gazillion dogs. And I'm still leaning towards making a whole series of small treasure boxes, each with four or five "guard" dogs - there seems to be a lack of stuff for boys out there. Another idea I had was a sort of mobile, where the dogs sat on flat pieces of glass or wood. It could be for an entry way, again the guarding theme.
Any doggie project ideas out there or am I barking up the wrong tree?

A reminder of things undone...

Today my "walk 100 steps and make a photograph" challenge led me through the kitchen to the big bay window overlooking the park and there was my felted bag full of yarn.
Not just any yarn, mind you, but yarn planned for a spring top for Kiley. I think the universe was kicking my ass into gear on this - I haven't even started it and I'm pretty sure it was planned for a Vernal Equinox celebration.
That's only 16 days away.
gulp.

Please notice my steps did NOT lead me to a Boston Creme Pie.
NOR did they lead me to a big hunky, tanned lifeguard named Sven.
They also DID NOT pass any one-way tickets to Hawaii, with a side trip to Australia.
They did NOT stop at the cookie jar, which is my kitchen is filled with pretzel sticks.
NOOOOOooooooo, those carefree little steps took me to the unfinished, unSTARTED, making-me-feel-inadequate and like an bad Queenie (grandma), yarn project.

It's an omen. Or maybe a curse. It certainly was a kick, at the very least, and I got the hint. I have pledged to give it a full hour tonight. It's the orange yarn I'm using and every six or eight inches there is a bobble of yarn so that when you work it up, it almost makes little three-dimensional flowers appear! We'll see how I do....remember, it's movie night.

And voila! She's an artist!

First, here is today's "walk 100 steps and shoot a photo" challenge. It's a bubble of ice on my deck steps. It may look thick and scary but it is beautiful to me because it means the ice has been formed by the water dripping from the roof eaves. Spring, oh beautiful spring - can the Vernal Equinox be just 17 days away???

Now look at this piece of art:

It is the plate/bowl I made Sunday at the fused glass class. I am so excited - it came out exactly as I had envisioned. I'm already drawing patterns and writing down ideas for more....I think everyone on my list will be getting one of these for Christmas!!

Isn't it exciting to try something new, something absolutely foreign and find a bit of success in it? It's scary and challenging to take the first step, feeling that little prickly feeling of unease about being in uncharted waters. But, my mother Betty Lou always said, nothing ventured, nothing gained. Making something, creating something - these are easier to begin or try.

Relationships: now that is really scary. It somehow seems easier and oh so much more comfortable to stay with the old, cluster with the known friends, than wander outside the fence into unknown territory. That's why cliques form in junior high. The devil you know....

This week I tried both: a new skill and a new friend. And I'm feeling pretty good about both.

I'm building on the success earlier this winter of inviting a new friend, Hazel - who I only previously knew through work and a library book club - to join our movie night. She is fantastic and fabulous and hilariously funny and I never would have known that if I didn't take the chance.
This week I've invited another new person to movie night and the Full Moon party. I hope she's all she appears to be.

Because, with every new friend, with every new skill learned, with every new experience, my life gets deeper and richer. And you know that ain't all bad!

A little shining light and an unexpected miracle.

I cheated a little bit this morning with my "take 100 steps and shoot" photography challenge. I only walked 91 steps. I was brought to the front foyer of The Mansion where my little light shines all day and all night. In case you are new here, the light is for my son of my heart, Eric, who is a helicopter pilot in Afghanistan. It is the third time I've had the light in the window; he served two tours in Iraq also.

I took the picture, had a little cry and then headed for the computer to download it. There I found this incoming email:

"Hi everyone. I just wanted to let you know that I will be home sometime in the next two weeks for R&R. I will be in TN for a few days and then off to Maine to see the family. I know it's short notice. It was for me too. I will hopefully see you all soon.

Eric"

It's very easy today to believe in miracles.

Where the eph has my eph gone?

But phirst, here is today's "I walked 100 steps and shot" picture. I walked phrom my bedroom into my kitchen and nabbed the jars on the counter: bow ties, egg noodles, hazelnuts, basmati rice, homemade croutons and sunphlower seeds. I kind oph like the singularity of colors, the palette is so muted. I like the rephlections and the way the one blue antique Ball jar stands out. I think I'm really enjoying this challenge!

Last night, apparently in a typing phrenzy, the eph key phell oph my keyboard. I cannot believe phor a minute that I was overusing it. I only say the eph word three or phor times a day. well...maybe more iph it is snowing non-stop, just like it is today. Since we are in the midst of a blizzard, I have to wait until the end oph the week to get the laptop's phace phixed. So, my dear phreinds, you are stuck with this phreaking gibberish...

glass class was spectacular! it was kind oph like working on a puzzle. phirst you think oph a design and then you begin CAREPHULLY cutting the glass and placing the pieces on your glass base. I chose a luscious lime green and placed squares oph black and white glass on top oph that. Then I put smaller black and white squares on top oph those.
I then put small slivers of deep red across the top squares. I then put just one tiny dot oph lime green on the very top oph one corner square. I cannot wait to see the phinised bowl! It won't be a deep bowl - just sort oph slightly turned up like you would put in on the cophee table or phoyer table, iph I had a phoyer table. The mansion DOES have a phoyer. But it's empty.
There were about seven people in the class: moms, grandmoms, two teenagers and one pre-teen. It was so much phun to see what colors each chose - such a wide spectrum. I am hooked and I already prepaid phor another class next Sunday. I think everyone in my phamily will be getting glass bowls phor Christmas this year!

(GODDESS, this eph is so annoying. Aphter all, the eph is where the left index phinger rests and now my phinger is sitting on a little rubber stub. This nippley thing is all that is lepht oph the key. The little phlat top is now taped to the top oph my laptop. yeeeeesh.)

Today, as I said, it is a whiteout out there. It started snowing in the night, the wind is howling and they predict it will continue all day and into tonight again. I hate, hate, hate it and cannot wait phor spring! The only good to come oph this storm is that I get to stay in all day and semi-relax since I worked like a dog all weekend. Seven stories and short takes on Saturday (a 12-hour day) and phour on Sunday. It was worth it - I got page one again....I seem to be on a roll.

OOOOO do you hear that? It's my canvas calling me. I woke up this morning with a painting in my head and I'm dying to begin working. I'll share when it is done.

Hope you are all snuggly warm and toasty on this white winter wonderland oph a day.

A new challenge...

I found a challenge on a blog for photographers that I sometimes visit. It challenged us to walk 100 steps once a day, stop, look around and photograph whatever you see. I LOVE IT! How challenging to look at the light, the shapes, finding art or beauty in the everyday. This is my entry today: an old, no longer used spigot on Main Street Pittsfield. I love the colors, so muted, and the textures. So each day I'll be posting a picture as part of the challenge along with my regular ramblings. Today I'm taking a glass fusing class and making a small bowl! How exciting is that? Finally, something interesting to do on Sunday afternoons....I'll share a picture of the bowl next week, when I get it back from the kiln. TTFN

Just two words today: NINE POUNDS

okay, I lied. Not about the poundage, but about the verbage.

Here is another vacation picture. This is an anhinga ( i have no idea of the spelling!) drying its wings. I love the feathers around its neck!

Back to the big news: That crunch, crunch, crunch you have been hearing echoing across the country all week is me eating celery. I have consumed so much meat that I've begun to grow hair on my chest and have daydreams of lifting weights and scratching my....oh, I don't have any.

After 7 days of torture, I have lost 9 pounds. Of course I think 5 of those were on Wednesday when I ate a 1/2 pound of outdated liverwurst. Believe you me, I paid dearly. It tasted fine - a lovely lunch but by 6 p.m. it had reached the nether region - yes, you have all been there - and after no less than two dozen trips to the toydee, I was left shaking under the covers in my bed.
Not the type of weight loss plan I'd recommend to anyone! But all in all, it has been okay. My spirits are still high and I even went to a domino party last night and didn't cheat (neither at the game or with the food). I brought celery sticks and dip and I just ate the sticks. There was also a nice plate of cold shrimp there so I could have that. And water. Water. Water. Water. I have swallowed the entire Great Lakes this week. I do indeed slosh when I walk.
The bad news in all this is that I can't even tell where the nine pounds was.
*!@#$%@@***!
I honestly don't see or feel one bit different. Pitiful, isn't it? But scales don't lie and I used the same scale for the before and after weigh ins. Thanks for the continued encouragement..I'm finding little tricks to reward myself: Today I'm wearing a new teal and brown tunic top that I bought in Florida - sort of a tribute to Bollywood pattern. I'm headed to my favorite local eatery for a terrific chicken Ceasar salad for lunch and Donna and I might make the movies tonight. If I lose more than three pounds NEXT week, I've promised myself a pedicure and a teaspoon of almonds!

I promised you alligators and I give you Marie Barone...

These sunbathing beauties were clustered at the Brevard County zoo....As scary as they are, I was sad they were confined, although I must admit they look pretty well fed!

This one was sunning on an island at the Merritt Island Wildlife Refuge. He is VERY free and I'm glad there was a bit of water between us while I took the picture.

Another sunbather...It was a windy day and nearly every gator we saw was sunning and sleeping.

Today I watched my granddaughter eat her lunch through the magic of SKYPE and the web cams. I got to see her clap when I clapped, she tried to put blueberries in her ear and got stuck pulling her bib off. My daughter said that Kiley suddenly was trying to eat the wall in her playroom yesterday and Faye discovered the little one had found a Cheerio stuck on the wall and was trying to suck it off. My daughter said she was tempted to stick a whole bunch of Cheerios on the wall to keep Kiley entertained! But in the next moment she is confiding how nervous she is about leaving Kiley for two days later this week - Faye and some girlfriends are driving to Boston to go to the aquarium, see a Celtics game and do some shopping. She is also hoping to connect with her cousin from Connecticut (the amazing diving coach) who will be at a competition, and another cousin who is an amazing singer and is performing in clubs around Boston.

I completely understand how torn she is. It's a scary thing: on the one hand you want to be there for every moment with your baby but on the other hand you know that is neither sensible nor the right thing to do. Kiley will be just fine with her daddy, who shares childrearing admirably, and Faye will likely get something she hasn't had in a long time: a solid night's sleep! I offered platitudes but as in all things with my kids, I try not to give open advice (unless directly asked or if I believe someone is in danger) to allow them space to make their own decisions. It's one thing to be there for them, a resource, someone to ask about life's experiences, but I hever want to be Marie Barone, interfering in every aspect and suffocating them. Sometimes, though, when I'm not particularly alert or paying attention, I have caught unsolicited advice just popping out of my mouth, as if it had a life of its own, and I am always sorry afterwards, even if I believe what I said.

I have raised my children; lived my life. It is not up to me to live theirs. Besides, I am so fortunate: they seem to be doing a great job at it! IF they weren't....oh my goddess, I think I could be a great Marie Barone - blabbing on endlessly about the dust on the blinds, the overflowing garbage can, the type of toilet paper they select, how to feed-dress-discipline-raise their children, on and on and on.

Do you mothers and mother-in-laws out there struggle with this same push/pull? Just where are the lines between supporting, advising and interfering? When does wanting to know the details and everyday issues in their lives become nosiness? How honest should we be when it comes to adult children? Do we speak up, and regret it later, or not speak up, and regret it later? Please share your thoughts....

It came; it blew; and it conquered.

Look at my poor street - the snow is as deep as the realtor's sign and where the hell did the road go?
I opened my back door and this is what I found: a foot and a half against the door, six feet at the bottom of the steps and, yes, that is my car back there! I'll probably be driving again about April.
I thought my wreath looked particularly pitiful but then I thought : Why in the world is my wreath still up on February 23?

Anyway, I've managed to shovel off the top two steps of the porch and now I am waiting for the snowblowing man to clear the driveway.

I'm going nowhere today. It's kind of a strange relief when it is out of your control! My daughter called and then sent me pictures of some downed limbs at the Machias house. Nothing major and nothing hit but one HUGE pine limb just missed Matt's car! They got a lot of snow but they also got ice which weighs everything down.

I'm dreaming of Florida and that HOT Wednesday afternoon (was it just five days ago?) spent lazing by the pool...I'd give my inheritance (HA and another HA, there is no inheritance!) for one of those Star Trek transporters. I'd shovel the walkway and then push the transport button, sit at the pool and then come back here just in time for bed.

NAAAAA, who am I kidding? I won't come back at all.

What is wrong with these pictures???

Ladies and gents: On the left is the Penobscot River on Saturday afternoon. 21 degrees and frozen solid. not even the Coast Guard ice cutter is anywhere to be seen.
On the right, the Conch Key where I had lunch Tuesday afternoon. 70 degrees. palm trees swaying. sounds of waves lapping beach.
I do have the right to be depressed, don't I?
And ladies and gentlemen, if you needed further evidence to convince you, a Nor'Easter is headed straight at me = bearing down on Maine and expected to dump up to 18 inches of snow on my head.

This is how I know it is really going to be bad: When The Weather Channel does its forecasts, the dear weather people stand RIGHT IN FRONT OF MAINE! It's like this lovely state doesn't even exist. Oh, yeah, they show the fronts and the highs and the lows headed in our direction. But we never get to seem them actually get here because some big haired meteorologist has her beehive in the way. BUT WAIT! At least one Weather Channel forecaster has already flown here and is camped out in our state capital Augusta to be able to show the rest of the world how horrible it will be - including those people who will be sitting in MY PLACE on that beautiful beach side deck, drinking MY Rumrunner, and eating MY seasoned fries and crab cake.
How dare they.

Egrets, alligators and phenomenal support!

Check out this alligator track! and just wait until you see the gator!
Here are the egrets as well - two for one today! There is a dry season underway right now in Florida so the water was very shallow. These pix were was taken at the Merritt Island Wildlife Refuge, which was created when the U.S. government bought up all the land around Cape Canaveral. It is open to the public and teeming with alligators, millions of migratory birds, wild hogs, armadillos and who knows what else.
We rode around the refuge with both side doors of Sue and Bill's van wide open, sun pouring in, just like a tour. Bill's knowledge of the names and habits of the birds was fantastic.

As for the diet plan, I cannot thank those of you who called and wrote and commented for your support. It was a bit scary to put my real feelings out there but I believe I needed to do that as part of this journey. I'm doing fine so far, slept well last night and am getting ready to go to an ice sculpture exhibition and then a play. I had a cheese omelet for breakfast and two hamburgers for lunch. I saved my salad and veggie for tonight because we'll eat at a restaurant and that will make it easier. Water, tea and broth have been my beverages and I am absolutely full and content. Thanks again for sending me off with applause!

And then there were the animals...and some frank talk about loss of control.

This is the little armadillo - don't you just love his ears????
Anyway, I have a gazillion photos of wildlife but this stupid blog won't let me post more than one at a time today. So I'm going to give you one animal a day for the rest of the month.
We saw several armadillos in the wild but this little guy was rescued and had a new home at the Brevard County Zoo, a fabulous place just five minutes from Sue and Bill's - the ultimate hosts - home in Melbourne.

The trip to the zoo was on Wednesday, when we were lazy and slept late. After a quick breakfast of Sue's banana bread, we drove to the zoo and walked for hours. It's a great place: wooden boardwalks through jungle-like settings. We also went to Jones Beach and sat by the pool for hours. We ate at a spectacular French restaurant called Mim's for lunch and an Italian spot called Carrabas for dinner.

It was the best and the fastest four days on earth! We laughed and cried and talked and walked and beached and ate and ate and ate.
That is why today I began the Atkins induction phase.

DO NOT TALK ME OUT OF IT!

I am totally out of control and I need only support right now. I have used Atkins in the past and not only have I never felt better, I dropped weight like a a seal sheds water.

I have no excuses - I am a glutton.
I do not have a sweet tooth (I'm not even that fond of chocolate!) but I love my food. All food. And if a little bit if good, a lot must be better. I eat inappropriate amounts at inappropriate times, such as full meals at 10 p.m. when my work is done. Or missing lunch because I am so busy writing and then suddenly realizing I AM STARVED about 3 p.m. and gorging on whatever is quick and easy. I loves me my carbohydrates: rice, potatoes, mac 'n cheese. But I also love veggies and meat so Atkins is not really a punishment.
It is more like a restriction.
I don't have to make any decisions because the choices are limited. That works well with me, I can't control things when I have too many choices.

I often make the wrong ones.

One of the many things I reflected on while on vacation was this lack of control and how, if I want to be around for Kiley's future, I need to take charge.
The sounds of the horses hooves flying past your head right now are the sounds of me taking control.
I want to be able to bowl with my friends without worrying that I'll wet my pants.
I want to be able to hike without losing my breath.
I want to be able to put on a swimsuit this summer and not hide.
I want to actually be IN the photographs of all of us having good times.
I want to go snowshoeing.
I want to be able to get back up off my knees when I play on the floor or wash the floor or just lose an earring under the table.
I want to be able to chase Kiley around and pick her up and take long walks, without strain or struggle.
I want to sit in a booth in a restaurant and not have my belly rub the table.
I want to have to shorten the seat belt, not pull it all the way out.
I do not want to have to shop in the plus size section.
I do not want to be embarrassed about my size.
I do not want my children to be ashamed of such a fatty mother and I want to go to New Jersey and meet my son's "new" family and make him proud, and I want to go to events at Kiley's school and have her glow when she introduces her Queenie.
I do not want to be skinny or even thin. I like curves. I think a woman should be soft.
But I do want to be healthy.

I am not doing this to impress any man, or with the thoughts of a future relationship in mind. This has to be my quest. My goal. My success. It CANNOT ride on the back of anyone else's dream. Just mine.

I've been quite frank here about my thoughts and goals because it is long past time that I quit fooling myself. I am fat. I have lots of fat around my middle. My butt is the size of Canada. My thighs rub together when I walk. I have a big ol double chin. And I don't feel good. I don't sleep well and everything is harder to do. I have belly fat - which Dr. Oz and Oprah keep telling me is the worst kind of fat to have. It apparently presses against all the other internal organs and stresses them out. They haven't been complaining yet, but....

So please. No lectures. No sweet comments like "We love you just the way you are.'' I think you will love me just as much if there was a bit less of me to love. Lend me your support. Tell me I can do this and remind me, again and again, why I'm doing it. Tell me how YOU did it. Or why you want to do it. Share with me your stories as I have shared mine. The only thing that I have confidence about is that I WILL succeed.

It is time. I am ready.

I'm back, and here is what we consumed in Florida:

The desserts: I had the Banana Brulee (the one her fingers are on!!) Excellent...


Crabcakes and seasoned fries at a place called Conch Key on the Indian River, an estuary teeming with dolphins, pelicans, and other extraordinary wildlife.

Unusual menus and fabulous Rum Runners: with rums, creme de banana, more rum, fruit and rum.

Had a superb lunch at Chocolate Cafe. I wonder where it got its name?

I know this does not accurately depict Florida - but it truly does depict my vacation. One fabulous meal after another, whether it was braised pork with roasted fennel, or cold shrimp on the house deck with wine, everything was perfect. Yesterday was 78 degrees and we were sitting by the pool, but we flew into Maine in a raging snowstorm today! Tomorrow I'll be more descriptive - suffice it to say it was a fabulous four days and I'm exhausted. I promise alligators, birds, giraffes and ocean tomorrow! I'm already missing the sounds of birds, the warm breeze on my skin, and my good friends Sue and Bill...

I'm outa here!

I woke up this morning to wonderful news! My dear sweet nephew David, son of my sister Robin, was named New England Conference Diving Coach of the Year. You should see this kid (man) around water! He is so talented. And he is such a loving, kind person that he truly deserves this award!!!

As for me, the suitcase is in the car, the dog is on her way to the sitter's, the legs have been shaved. I've double checked my wallet for I.D. and have my flight confirmation and extra cash. I turned all the thermostats down to 55 and put my plants in the kitchen sink with extra water. The trash has been removed and there's nothing left in the frig. (the DAMN frig)
I have my flip flops on and I'm outa here! Talk to you next from Florida where there still exists warmth, sun, birds and beach...............yeah...

The night of bowling with friends report:

My fingers are so swollen today that I couldn't grasp my coffee mug, my shoulder and back feel like a truck hit me. Somehow I managed to actually make a few strikes through pure luck. The best part was sitting in a restaurant with my friends afterward, talking and talking.

Here are some of my friends and a much less demanding sport: We are the Central Maine Precision Marching Lawn Chair Drill Team. We are amazing and you can find us on You Tube! We practiced all winter two years ago, spinning our chairs, clacking them together, throwing chairs through the air, even sitting down in the middle of the routine. I am the leader (this happened because I was late getting to a gathering where the idea was hatched. It was a default honor) and I have a great whistle! I LOVE blowing that whistle and making everyone pay attention to me. I also have to be bitchy because when this group gets together they tend to stray from the task at hand. We decided on silly Hawaiian shirts and at Rockland we had to take the lobster bibs off because they got in the way of the spinning chairs.
Then we marched in the Fourth of July Athens Street Parade and won first place.
Then we marched in the Pittsfield Egg Festival Parade, where the video was taken, and won first place!
Then we marched in the Rockland Lobster Festival, where this picture was taken (you can't see me here cuz I took the picture), and won first place!
We are Undefeated!!!
It is the most fun - people love us and cheer and cheer! And at the Egg Festival Parade when we passed by my BFF Trudy's house, friends ran out into the street and brought us mimosas! At the Athens' parade, which is considerably more laid back, we were handed jello shots.
This summer we are trying for first place in the Yarmouth Clam Festival and practice will begin in a few weeks.
If you live anywhere near us and want to join, come on down! We are always looking for new members. The routines are super simple and we have a ball.

Of course, it is also a great opportunity to embarrass your children and cause others to wonder about your sanity.

Today I begin my vacation. Can you hear my sigh from there?

I leave for Florida Sunday morning but I have today and tomorrow to just go easy and relax....I haven't quite gotten to the point that I can turn off my police/fire scanner, but I have turned off my work phone. I spent more time than usual with the crossword puzzle, I'm still in my jammies, and I'm relishing another cup of coffee.

There is a fabulous program at my church called The Welcome Table, which my fabulous BFF Trudy organized. The church kitchen and dining area is open every Friday from 10:30 to 2:30 for socialization and warmth. A free lunch is also served and civic groups and businesses all over town send a volunteer team each Friday to prepare and serve the food. A local church canceled at the last minute so I'm helping out there today. I great way to spend my first day, I think.

Then a bunch of us are going bowling. Doesn't that sound nerdy and so 1950s? I CAN'T WAIT! I grew up across the street from a bowling alley and we used to sneak there all the time.

I say sneak because to my parents, the bowling alley was on par with rock and roll and cigarettes - somehow the combination of those three would turn us into crazed juvenile killers who would ride around in coupes and convertibles, throwing molatav cocktails into local shops and businesses and pillaging the rest of the town.
We would abandon circle pins and box pleated skirts and white blouses with peter pan collars. No more penny loafers. Gone would be the demure "flip" hairdo, replaced by a messy beehive and heavy-handed mascara.
They expected us to cuff our ciggies in our t-shirt sleeves, roll our jeans and, o dear god, begin drag racing out at the abandoned airport runway.
They knew we would drop out of high school and eventually become that dirty, bummy person that hangs around downtown buying booze for underage kids in exchange for a pint to keep "on the hip."
We would get tattoos and have unprotected sex and end up in homes for unwed mothers.

Still, every Friday, my brother and I, and the kids across the street, Rusty and Janice, used to pretend we were tired and we would go to bed early. We then would jump out our second story windows and high tail it to the bowling alley. The boys would play pool and Janice and I would watch all the other boys. Our parents were such heavy sleepers that, hours later, we were able to just walk back in through the front door.
Of course we eventually were caught when our parents were enjoying a summer night by sitting on our and their front steps and each set of parents watched as the other set of parents' kids bailed out the window. Curtains for us.

I have to admit, though, that even now, more than 40 years later, the sound of bowling pins crashing makes my head swivel and begin searching for the hottest guy in the alley - the one with the rolled jeans and the tight white t-shirt. OMG, it's probably the janitor.

P.S. While I'm away, would all of you lurkers sign in as blog followers please? Just click on the box on the top right that says "follow this blog." It is really simple and if I get enough followers I can begin making some money from this blog through Google Ad. If you visit frequently, please sign in. It makes me feel loved and wanted. And I need the money.

I have been betrayed by my refrigerator.

Wouldn't you think that after leaving the poor Frigidaire empty for nigh on three weeks, and then finally, FINALLY filling it up with good eats...wouldn't you think that big metal box would be grateful? OH NOOOOOOOOOO. Today it stopped running. Dead. Killed. Not breathing even a gasp.
I noticed when I reached into the freezer for a handful of ice and ended up with a wet hand.
I had to schlep all my beautiful goodies - my spinach, my broccoli, the eggs and butter, two bottles of wine, soda, milk - I had to put it all in the snowbank on my back deck. Yup, that's me - white trash using the deck as a refrigerator. Before you know it I'll be cooking me some ribs on a metal 55-gallon drum filled with scrap wood.

But wait, remember a month or two ago when I told you there was some kind of electrical black hole here at The Mansion? When the scanners and the cell phones all went berzerk? IT STRUCK AGAIN!
My friend S told me to check the outlet and so I tugged and pulled and moved the refrig so I could plug it in somewhere else and IT CAME ON.

I also came unglued because there was a dead mouse underneath it. Please, let me remind you that I am housesitting. I cannot be held responsible for the mouse - alive or dead! I guess this solves my odor problem. For two weeks I've been scrubbing the trash can, shoving a bazillion lemons in the garbage disposal, blaming the dog, when all the time Mickey was slowly heading to heaven under the frig. He was accompanied on his journey by about seven Legos, two little plastic people, a magnet and enough dust bunnies to have a marathon with the tortoise. I repeat: I AM HOUSESITTING and therefore not responsible for the any of the goodies hiding under there.

So, now I have a refrigerator in front of the kitchen sink. And a dead mouse in the trash, wrapped in three paper towels inside a hank of newspaper inside three zip lock bags. I think I'm sufficiently protected until I can drive to the dump tomorrow morning. Right after I call an electrician.

So, I was interviewing a cow today...

This lovely little lady insisted that all her comments were off the record. And look at the glare she is giving my photographer...

The life of an agriculture reporter...I tell ya. I have all the fun. Seriously. I do.

And take a look at the sweet old man behind her....87 years old and still farming. We grow em strong in Maine. When I asked the farmer how tough dairying really was, he reeled off a litany of accidents: caught in the PTO of a tractor, nearly drowned in the manure pit, had both knees replaced, rotor cuffs are so shot that he can no longer lift his arms above his head and his child bride - Erma, 84 - has to put on his hat and sweatshirt for him. Oh, and one time when they were baling hay, Erma accidentally cut off all the ends of his fingers on his right hand.

They met as teenagers at a 4-H conference and then eloped, only to have to return to the farm early the next day to get all the chores done. They've been married 66 years this June and they once went 13 years without missing a single morning or night milking.

And some people have the nerve to complain about the price of a gallon of milk. This poor old fart is only getting paid $8 for every 100 pounds of milk those beautiful, doe-eyed cows produce. And here we are, bailing out bank executives. Something seems a little wrong with that, doesn't it?

Attention all visitors:

I have two more days until my vacation begins.


I just wanted to brag.

There's some monkey business goin' on!

Here is what I discovered this morning, before I even had my first cup of coffee: There she was, my sweet little Emma, sleeping away, blissfully dreaming of hot dogs and liver treats and running in fields of clover in the sunshine, tucked into her bed with her special pink quilt. But where was her faithful pal Monkey? The one toy that she doesn't chew on and carefully carries with her from room to room? What the heck is actually going on here? I do believe that Monkey is taking liberties here with Miss Emma. Monkeyshines, I say, and I'm putting my foot down.

But wait, it just occurred to me that Emma is five, which is actually 35 in dog years. Well past the age of consent. And who am I, after all, to stand in the way of true inter-species love? All I can say, then, is that nobody better expect me, the queen, to be babysitting any doggie-monkey pups.

Sunday's mixed bag of 10 random wanderings...

Randomness #1:
Several of you asked about my paintings so I'm showing off today: an on-line gallery of some recent completions.
The scenic is quite large 3x3', while the others are 24 x 36" or in the case of the red dress, just 12 x 12 inches. I paint the whole canvas, including the edges, the stems of those daisies wrap right around the bottom. I also often paint right over another painting and most of the time I write things on the canvas before I paint. Secret thoughts, things I want to celebrate or bad things I want to discard or "paint over."
I've talked about my style before - how I paint large, whimsical characters with little detail so that my brother and sister, both legally blind, can see them. It's very hard, sometimes, especially with commissions, to see past all the detail and try to capture the sense of place, the way it feels. Mostly, however, it is a very selfish thing. It's all about how the painting makes ME feel. If you happen to like it, that's even better, for both my soul and my wallet!

Randomness #2:
The full moon party was last night and it was very warm out (I think our January thaw got lost and wound up in February) - about 33 degrees - so everyone really enjoyed skiing in the park. All the food and drink was great too. Everyone brought great stuff, as usual: Maine shrimp, homemade dill bread, dips, treats.. My shredded chicken with orzo stew was good, if just a bit too thick, and the ziti and sausage came out fine. There was a lot of laughter and conversation - we are so easy and loving with each other!

Randomness #3:
Is it unreasonable to be peeved at people who confirm they are coming to your party and then never show up, without a word as to why?

Randomness #4:
I keep thinking about that old black and white movie with Don Knotts called The Ghost and Mr. Chicken. Man, I love that movie. Remember the pipe organ that played all by itself?

Randomness #4:
Today I gave my LOVE sermon at church - I managed to hang onto the paper clip this time and not decapitate the organist. But it wasn't any easier this time than the first time. I was terrified. I liked my sermon but I thought it was a little too serious. I've got to inject some humor in there next time!

Randomness #6:
I need you people to remind me to shave my legs before I leave for Florida. And pack my cell phone charger.

Randomness #7:
Who has a GREAT recipe for date bars that taste just like my Grandmother Amelia Henrietta's?

Randomness #8:
In my nod to my anal retentve disorder, I packed my suitcase for Florida this morning. WOOO - I pulled out that brilliant tourquoise bathing suit and coverup; my favorite jean capris; my flip flops; SHORT sleeve shirts. I packed my sunscreen and two new, hopefully riveting books.
Yes. I know. I'm not leaving for SEVEN days....but you just cannot leave these things to the last minute. You know what I'm saying? Who knows what kind of fun might come along and distract me this week? And then I would be packing four minutes before the plane begins taxiing down the runway and end up with 6 woolen socks, thermal underwear, and the capris from last summer that no longer fit me.

Randomness #9:
Can there be any greater combination that Coke on ice, hot buttered popcorn and a good book?

Randomness #10:
My son-in-law Matt is coming to stay overnight tonight on his way to Portland. Thank goddess: I have an incredible over abundance of ziti and sausage and there is nothing like a 6-foot, 8-inch man to help you with leftovers!