Little Bowls, Little Bowls

Not much going on here, I'm afraid.

It's been raining like crazy here, leaving it in the high 80s and MUGGY. My glasses fog up every time I step outside the building at work. In spite of this, I'm still using my space heater with regularity while in the office. My office is fortunate enough to share air with the IT server room. We plugged some of the vents with cardboard and manilla folders but it's still sub-zero. I've learned to dress in layers, and never forget my wool sweaters.

The weekend was wonderful. I bailed from work early and headed to the studio to suck back wine and socialize um, work on my trimming. I got back more stuff from the latest glaze firing. Overall, I was pretty disappointed. My first handle came out pretty cool. (The bowl was lopsided enough that I turned one side into a spout, then decided it needed something else and tried the handle.)


The one that I was really looking forward to getting back was a huge disappointment though. I tried slip painting on it, and it was supposed to be black. (Slip is the gooey clay you end up with around your wheel when you throw pots. It's handy stuff - you use it to attach handles, to patch mistakes, and you can add color to it and use it as paint when your piece is in the hard leather stage (mostly dried but not yet fired).) Then I took a pointy thing and scribbled a design around the top edge. At one time, it looked really cool. Then it came out of the bisque firing and the black had turned red. I attempted to salvage it with glaze and it ended up awful. The outside is this dark mossy greenish brown, you can barely make out my scribbles and there was a problem with the glaze I used on the inside - it separated or jumped or fell or something off the clay so there's bare spots here and there in the inside. It broke my wittle heart, but I guess that's what you gamble when you experiment on things you care about.



I got some more stuff back too. Actually, that's all I accomplished was picking up my glazed things. These are also from the latest firing. The little bowl also had spots where the glaze misbehaved.




These were from the one before. All the glazing I did was in this color. I dipped in black, then brushed on 3 coats of mottled blue. I'm quite fond of this color - you'll probably be seeing it a lot.

Happy Birthday, Tattoo!

Four years ago today, at noon on a beautiful June day, my friend C and I sat on the stoop of Brother E's tattoos in Downers Grove, IL. Yes, my friends, I am such an uber-dork that I had to wait for the tattoo parlor to open. But at least I wasn't alone.

I had wanted a tattoo for years, but I couldn't decide on what and where. My cousin got a tattoo on the top of her right foot. I really liked it, but I didn't want to get the same thing, or the exact same place. I thought about it for a couple more years - hey, this thing is FOREVER, I want to be SURE - and decided I wanted it on my left foot, and I wanted a different flower, and a butterfly.


My friend had also wanted a tattoo for ages and ages. My birthday is in April, hers in July so we went together to get tattoos for our birthdays. We walked in, once they unlocked the door, and were greeted by the smell of rubbing alcohol. Surely this is a good sign. Clean. Clean is good.

Between my flower and the rose she wanted on her ankle, we looked through scads and scads of flash. She found one she liked, her guy started setting it up, we found one she liked better, her guy very patiently set it up. I found something that was close, except move the butterfly here, change the stem, oh and the flower and could you just tweak this... At least I'm consistent.

I went into this expecting agony. Lit cigarettes on flesh, might pass out pain. She laughed at me and told me it wasn't going to be anything. Her guy started on her first, and I have never heard such a string of obsenities. Holy smokes. My guy looked up at me and asked if I was going to swear and jump around like that. My answer: "in all probability, yes." But really, it wasn't that bad, and it was certainly nowhere near what I'd been expecting. True, going over the bones in my foot was not the most fun I've ever had, but not nearly the agony my always fertile imagination made it out to be. Less than an hour later and we were done, bandaged and on our way.

I'd love to get another one, but I'm dithering just as much over this one. I'm thinking maybe a dragon high on my inner thigh, or something on my ribs or maybe something on my back... I dunno. At this rate, it'll take me another 30 years to make up my mind.

So, have you ink?

Wordless Wednesday - This Drive-Thru Open

At Least The Turtle Doesn't Hate Me. Probably.

Work went about how I thought it would, but I made it through to the end of the day. Sadly, it was too late to run by the studio but I had another plan. I was going to go to our pathetic little mall and stock up on the "historical" scents currently at Bath & Body Works, hit the Waldenbooks and then maybe order a pizza or something. High times, I know.

As I zipped down the highway, I noticed a lump in the middle of my lane. Then I realized that the lump was a turtle - half a lane into attempting to cross 4 lanes of traffic - at rush hour. *sigh* I'm not capable of leaving turtles in danger like that. I was probably close to 15 yards down the road before I managed to safely get parked on the side of the highway. I trotted back toward the bump, who was a very huddled bump as cars went whizzing over his head. (He may have been reconsidering his foolproof moving scheme.) As I got closer, I recognized the shape of the bump. Drat. Snapping turtle. And me without my handy broomstick. (At one point, I found snappers crossing the street darn near every time I left the freakin' house, so I took to carrying a nice strong length of broomstick to assist in getting the turtles to the side of the road - both of us unhurt.) I'm told that other people find non-bitey creatures to rescue. I wonder what that's like?

So I got even with the turtle, tramped down into the ditch to find a stick, came back to the side of the road, waited for a likely break in traffic and zipped out into the middle of the highway to rescue the turtle, who promptly snapped my stick in half.

Damn! Need bigger stick. So, back to ditch for better stick, back to road, wait for traffic, zip out again and herd the turtle back to safety. (I have to confess, I helped Mr. Turtle a bit with the side of my foot. We had to HURRY.) Right, so now what? Well, the turtle had some scuffs on his shell and I got to thinking that maybe he had been hit. Clearly, I had to take him to the wildlife lady. She saved the last injured turtle that I found along the road.

This presented me with a slight logistical problem, given that the turtle didn't seem to be entirely friendly so I wasn't interested in just grabbing him. (Snapping turtles can reach practically any location on their shell, so there really isn't a safe place to grab them.) I gave him a firm command to stay, trotted back to the Jeep, dumped a milk crate of junk into the back, and trotted back to the turtle. I'm so glad I was still dressed for work in three inch heels and a long sleeved shirt - 'cause it was 82 degrees with VERY high humidity and I'm running around the highway chasing turtles. Brilliant. The turtle had spent the time coming towards me, along the side of the highway, so I had to overshoot him a bit to retrieve my stick. Since the turtle did not volunteer to hop right into the crate, some gentle persuation was necessary. That's went I realized that the turtle didn't exactly fit into the crate.

So, here's a picture for you - me, in business casual and nice shoes, walking along the side of the highway in the very bumpy grass, holding a milk crate in front of me with one hand and a stick in the other, which I was using to block the turtle's VERY active attempts to clamber out of the crate, which was not hard for him because he was kind of bigger than the crate. Weird how I'm the only one I know who gets into these situations. I finally made it back to the Jeep, jostled the turtle until he was sort of wedged at an angle into the bottom of the crate, then I wedged the crate between the dash and the passenger seat of the Jeep, put the stick within reach - just in case he tried to escape in the Jeep, hopped in and away we went to the wildlife lady.


Just about this time, my friend called to invite me over for dinner and LEGO PS3 games. I told her I had a pitstop to make, which led to her volunteering to come help me corral the turtle. Already done says I - I'm almost at the wildlife care center. So we decided that she'd figure out what her spouse was doing for dinner and call me back.


The wildlife lady was still there, which was fortunate 'cause the turtle would not have fit in the emergency wildlife drop box. She leaned into the Jeep, poked at him, said he was one very lucky turtle and he was fine and then she gave me directions to a park where I could drop him off near the water. *blink* But... um. I got him INTO the crate. Isn't that enough?? Apparently no. So I headed off to the park to drop him and my friend called back with ideas for food. When she learned that I still had the passenger, she asked if I'd bring him to her house. There's a little creek nearby and she wanted to see him.


She met me in her driveway and we each took a side of the crate and walked him to his new home. There a steep slope from the road down to the creek. Once we got him out of the crate and pointed downhill, a gentle shove sent him lumbering on his way.


The closer to the water he got, the faster he went. He was hidden, but we could see the weeds moving in his path. And plop! into the water and he was gone.


When I was eight or so, my father brought home a snapping turtle that was more than three feet in diameter - it couldn't rest flat in one of those large green trash cans, so I thought this guy was kinda small. He was probably 13 or so inches across, and 16 or so inches long, not including tail. Turns out, for this area, he was apparently quite large - my friend said that's the biggest one she's seen around here.

After releasing the turtle, we headed back to her house for stuffed chicken breast and the LEGO Indiana Jones game - which is so so fun. The little clips are HILARIOUS. And, once I got home, I broke out dessert - the first cherries of the year. Yum!


Tomorrow, I'll go play in the mud and then (maybe) to a coworker's daughter's birthday party. Have a great weekend!

One of Those Days...

I didn't take any pictures while at the Fossil Festival 'cause I was busy digging like a gopher, chasing teeny tiny teeth and eating and shopping and people-watching and enjoying the sun (a bit much) and and and it was a wonderful day, capped off by a slightly surreal visit to a winery. I'm glad my friend was with me 'cause I'd have probably bolted if I'd have been alone, and that would have been a shame 'cause that guy knows his way around a grape. I bought 3 bottles of his blush and 2 bottles of what he calls "Gold Crown." It's funny - the bottle doesn't have the fancy label that the wines do - it's just the name, with no identifiers. And this gold crown is not wine. He said it was something you sip, after dinner, like amaretto... except 36% alcohol. That's right, folks, I found "wine" that is 72 proof. Go me!

We followed the signs to the winery and found it not too far off the beaten path. We were skeptical - there's a faded for sale sign by the road, and the gravel drive is full of potholes. The trees overhang the ruts, which twist off unseen into the underbrush. Normally, the Jeep and I enjoy these little expeditions. My friend's Toyota wasn't sure. After all, this neighborhood is near the shoot-all-comers zone. As it happens, the underbrush was more of a tree line and the path soon took us past well-ordered vines, greening with new life. Then we passed a ramshackle barn and a couple of horses wandering around the driveway. And a bunch of chickens. And a faded, but lovely, old house. A small herd of enthusiastic canine greeters met us at another outbuilding - one with a very leafy patio. An old man met us out there and led us inside to a very low ceiling room with a fireplace at one end and a huge bar running lengthwise along one side. The bar was empty except for a line of bottles. We stood on one side of the bar, and Mr. Bennett stood on the other, pouring tiny gulps of wine into dinky plastic cups. He bought the winery after he retired and it's gotten too big for him, which is why he's selling. He was neat, and the wine didn't suck and it was a really cool ending to a great day.

I also have about four gazillion new pottery things to show. I'm told that I'm making progress. I'm not convinced. I have learned that glazing and wine are a bad combination. One helleva lot of fun, but not only does the productivity go way down, one ends up spending almost 2 hours during the following visit to the studio trying to undo what has been done. I do have a better understanding now of why the studio is sometimes in rather rough shape first thing Saturday morning. Given how much wine and chocolate and snacks we put away in less than 3 hours on Friday night, I'm not sure how it is that we don't find bodies strewn hither and yon some mornings.

The weekend was FABULOUS and I really needed it. I bounced into work all happy on Tuesday. That didn't last long. Splat! Oh, hi Reality. You bitch.

So today went as ever and then a bit after noon, I left to head to a supplier. I don't know what happened but less than 15 minutes after I left the plant, I was lost. This is my just in time supplier. I'm there ALL THE TIME. I drive nearly every time I go. This time? Totally backwoods-where-the-hell-am-I lost. Fortunately, I had the Garmin in the car and she got me back on track but I still don't know what happened. I mean, with my sense of direction, I spend a lot of time lost, and I frequently wander for a couple of hours trying to find my way back home FROM the supplier, but getting there is basically one road. And I managed to mess it up. REALLY mess it up. She got me back to roads I recognize, but it should not have been possible to get where I was from where I came from.

I called one of the guys that I was meeting, and told him that I was running late. He asked if I was lost... and I said something about how just because I was running late did not mean that I was lost and somehow, from my tone, he figured it out and apparently nearly fell into the press he was laughing so hard. When I finally arrived, I got to explain to a room full of tall, serious Germans that I got lost. On the one road that leads to the plant. On my (roughly) four millionth visit there. *sigh*

Unfortunately, that was about the last light-hearted moment of the afternoon because we have a HUGE new project that MUST NOT FAIL that starts production in less than 8 weeks and today I learned that we are really really really close to major disaster. I've been freaking out over this for months, but it's really crunch time now, and we are in hot water. And my supplier is stupid. Which makes me nuts. Dammit. This project is our future. We will rise or fall together and this has to work. Why don't you care as much as I do? How can you be so damn casual about this? "Oh yeah, I guess that is a problem." YOU GUESS?!!?!?!?!? We have less than two months before start of production of units to sell, you're looking at major problems that require major tooling changes, requiring a minimum of... 8 weeks and you'll give me an update on Friday. Or Monday. Depending. I don't F*CK*NG think so. I can't force you to care (although I will make us both miserable trying) but I can force you to move one hell of a lot more quickly than you apparently think you need to. *growl*

So after the visit, I went back to my plant (without getting lost, thank you very much) and sent off a bunch of not-very-friendly emails to some rather important (in my work life, anyway) people regarding the latest disaster that we're in. I imagine the fur will start to fly quite early tomorrow. Wish me luck.

When's the next long weekend? I need another one.

Yay!

I'm really really really looking forward to this weekend.

Tomorrow afternoon, I have scheduled an offsite meeting with a friend - at the pottery studio. Fridays are "bring your own wine" nights at the studio, and everyone brings wine and snacks and such. I'm not counting on being very productive, but I should have some cool stuff out of the kiln.

Then Saturday marks the beginning of the Aurora Fossil Festival. I've been looking forward to it since last year's was over. I will dig for more teeny tiny sharks teeth, and maybe find a cool rock or two to lug home with me. Can't wait!

And then, the toffee sprinkles on my little sundae... Monday off. Ah, blessed vacation! Have a great weekend! I hope to.

Wordless Wednesday - Oops.

Rainy Days and Sundays...

And today is both. Blech. As happens to me occasionally, all will drains out with the sun and I've spent the day curled on the couch, wrapped around a cat. While my house is still a mess, I've almost gotten through the pile of library books, and I'm up on the most recent videos, courtesy of one of the all-videos-all-the-time stations on the tv.


At least whatever feasted on my gerber daisies last year hasn't gotten the new ones. Yet.

Adding to the cheer, there's a stray cat outside who is rather desperate to move into my house. The Peanut's been freaking out over the interloper for days. Sophia doesn't care - it is outside and therefore not worth Her Highness' notice. Every day, around dinnertime, the cat starts circling the house and shrieking to be let in. It starts on the front porch, moves to the window in the living room and ends up on the back porch. Peanut then spends a chunk of time growling and yowling back, while throwing herself into the French doors. Given the condition of the glass in this house, I'm afraid that one day she'll end up breaking the door.

In the meantime, hope your day was sunnier.

BTW, if you haven't heard her yet, Anjulie has a very interesting sound. I like it.

Wordless Wednesday - Fluffy, Not Overfed

Froggie Came A'Courtin'

My parents were both biology majors in college. My mom is now a certified master gardener, and she spends hours and hours a day pottering around in the dirt. And they share a love of all things nature.

Gardens and bird feeders, toad houses and bat shelters abound. Speaking of abounding, frogs abound as well... toads, and leopard frogs and grey tree frogs - even the occasional bullfrog, wandering over from the neighbors' pond - they're everywhere. (Can you see all three in the picture below?)





When I was five, my parents put in a pool. Dad isn't one for small scale, so the pool is inground, concrete and fiberglass, 54000 gallons of water.


In the winter, the water level is lowered to below the skimmers and the winter cover is put on, and weighted down, and lashed to the fence. (The wind at home is fierce.) The easiest way to weight down the cover is to collect water on top of it. The end result of this is that the pool becomes a pond for late fall, winter and early spring.



When you mix many many frogs with a protected part-time pond, you end up with pollywogs. Lots of them. Millions of them - all gathered on the pool cover. Of course we had an aquarium every year full of them, and we'd watch them turn into teeny tiny froggies and then we'd let them go outside - but what of the tadpoles on the cover? Come summer, the pond had to morph back into a pool and that meant the polliwogs had to go.


So, every spring and continuing to this day, we launch one of our Spring Rituals - the Great Polliwog Rescue. We use nets, and friends, and spend the better part of at least one day collecting polliwogs into buckets and transporting them to the neighbors' pond. This is the 30th year of the Rescue and our friends' children are now helping with the netting and the hauling of the buckets. Of course, this year - for the third year in a row, I'll miss it because I live too far away to come home for the weekend. But I know it'll happen, and maybe next year I'll live closer. And in the meantime, yay for polliwogs!

Confessions from Cinco de Mayo

I don't have a drop of Hispanic blood anywhere near my veins. If you dig back far enough, you can unearth a lone Native American woman who gave her German husband 12 strapping sons... but that's about the extent of it and she was over a hundred years ago.

But, it's been AGES since the last lunch at work, and we needed a holiday so I grabbed this one in both paws and held on. (Although, if I'd have caught on a BIT sooner, I'd have totally made them celebrate Star Wars Day, which we will be doing next year. May the fourth be with you! And yes, someone did have to explain to me that it wasn't EVERY fourth but May 4th, 'cause you know, it mentions May right in the phrase. Sometimes? Not the sharpest knife in the drawer. *sigh*)

So today's feast included homemade salsa, tacos from the authentic (and very yummy) restaurant down the street, homemade guacamole and assorted other treats. I made a flan cheesecake thing that turned out MUCH better than I expected. I also made an appetizer that was okay, but not really worth sharing.

I grabbed both of these recipes off of the internet. I'm not sure where the flan cheesecake recipe came from; the salsa bites were from Pampered Chef. I started with the actual recipe, then anything I changed is listed at the bottom. If it's in italics, I fussed with it - make sure you read below.

===================================
Flan Cheesecake

2 cups sugar
1/4 cup water
12 oz cream cheese, at room temperature
3 large eggs, at room temperature
1 (14 oz) can sweetened condensed milk
1 (12 oz) can evaporated milk
1.5 cups milk, at room temperature
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Set a large bowl of ice water next to stove. Put sugar and water in medium saucepan over medium-high heat. Using a pastry brush, stir the sugar occasionally, being careful not to get any grains stuck against the sides of the pan, until it has all dissolved. Swirl the pan every minute until the sugar becomes a golden reddish-brown, about 10 to 15 minutes. Shock the bottom of the saucepan by placing the bottom in the ice water to stop the cooling and then equally divide into 10 to 12 (3.5 inch) ramekins and set aside.

Preheat oven to 325 degrees F.

Beat cream cheese with eggs on low speed with an electric mixer until combined then increase speed to medium high and beat to completely incorporate. Add the condensed milk, evaporated milk, whole milk and vanilla extract and continue to beat together until everything is well incorporated, scraping down the sides of the bowl as necessary, about 2 to 3 minutes.

Ladle the custard over the caramel into the ramekins, filling them up to 1/2-inch from the rim. Place a kitchen towel in a deep baking dish in the oven and using a pitcher, pour enough hot water into the baking dish to reach halfway up the sides of the ramekins, taking care not to get water in the ramekins. Cover the baking dish tightly with aluminum foil and bake until the flan is just set, about 30 minutes. When you tap the edge of the ramekin the flan should still wobble in the center.

Carefully remove the baking dish from the oven, remove the foil and let the ramekins cool slightly. Using tongs remove the ramekins from the water and set on a towel to cool for at least 2 hours before serving. Once cooled completely, the flan can be refrigerated for up to 3 days before unmolding and serving. To serve, run a thin knife around the inside edge of the ramekin to loosen the flan, and invert onto a plate.

===================================
Okay, there were several things in this that make me wonder if the originator actually ever made this thing. I've never shocked the pot before when boiling sugar. It starts to harden so fast normally that I totally skipped this step - just take it off when it's more golden, with just a hint of the reddish brown. And, I didn't use the pastry brush either - but I did add a dollop of corn syrup. (I happened to have dark in the cupboard, either is fine. Someone told me once that it helps prevent crystallization. I don't know if it's true, but it didn't hurt.) Once it has started to warm, but not yet bubble, stir it a couple of times with a table knife. After that, do not stir - just gently swirl the pan every minute or so. It'll take care of itself. Don't leave it unattended though - once it starts going, it gets where you need it quickly.

Don't get too uptight about the room temperature thing. I set everything out, then did my thing with the sugar then started mixing the rest of it. Then I realized that I needed another egg, and I didn't set the milk out so some stuff went in cold. You don't want it too cold or you may end up cracking your caramel layer, but don't wait for it to get to room temp either.

Also, I didn't use the ramekins. This recipe makes A LOT. I ended up using one 9" high-sided pie plate and 4 1-cup sized glass bowls, and I had enough left over that I made another one the next day using a normal 9" pie plate. I have an 11" x 15" x 2" baking pan that I used. I like the towel idea - it helps keep everyone where you put them and prevents the hot water from splashing all over the place. I put the leftovers in a glass bowl, covered it and left it in the fridge overnight. The next evening, I boiled more sugar, brought it out of the fridge, whisked it well and it turned out fine.

I put the kettle on to boil about the time that I started adding the milk to the mix. When it was time to add the hot water, it was boiling and I poured it straight from the kettle. BE CAREFUL. Preheat your oven to 340 or so. Then, pull the rack out and place the baking sheet onto the rack BEFORE you add the water. Add the water, cover it, push the rack GENTLY back into the oven and then turn the heat down to 325.

Several people in my office are dieting, so I used that 1/3 the fat Philly cream cheese, along with no fat evaporated milk and 2% milk. (The condensed was what I already had in my larder.) The 4 glass bowls were not originally planned and didn't have the sugar layer. They were served with a bit of whipped cream and were very yummy that way, so you could just skip the whole boiling sugar thing if you wanted to.

I have no idea how the person got it cooked in 30 minutes. That's nuts. Of course, I'm not really into wobble, and prefer mine a bit more cooked so that may be part of it, but at thirty minutes, this is still soup. Count on an hour. It's covered and cooking with water to keep the temperature constant, so it's pretty forgiving. Actually, at one hour and ten minutes, I decided it was mostly done. Then I turned the oven off and went to bed - leaving it in the oven. The next morning, I carefully removed the cool baking pan from the oven. This may be the best way to handle it. Heavy, sloshy liquids are not fun, especially when they're covered and you can't see how close they are to overflow.

Be aware that the sugar will be liquid underneath the flan so don't freak out, decide it's still not done and cook it for another several hours. It's okay. It's supposed to be like that. Since I had to transport mine, I actually drained most of the liquid off prior to wrapping it for the road.

It's not a typical flan - it's creamy, with a mild but rich flavor - VERY good. Once again, I brought back an empty plate.

I hope you had a great Cinco de Mayo, whatever you ended up eating.

*Sigh*

Whatever bonehead came up with the script for Jurassic Park 2 - the Lost World should be taken outside and shot. The books were so good, the first movie ROCKED and this trash came along.

Every time I see that it's on, it pisses me off.

Wordless Wednesday - Coming Soon To A Summer Near You

A Bitter Pill To Swallow...

(Sorry, folks, fair warning - super long, and quite whiny.)

Sometimes I feel like my life is one long scene from "he/she's just not that into you." And mostly, since I'm not usually that into whomever, I'm fine with it. Every now and then though, it stings... and it seems to be cumulative too.

I've been thinking about this quite a bit recently. One, I'm currently surrounded by people who do not like me and I do not like them - almost exclusively - and I'll tell you what, if I survive to get out of this hell, I will never take having friends for granted again. Ever. (Yay! I love these little learning experiences!) And two, my family is small - and shrinking. The day is fast approaching when I will be alone.

My mom is an only child of parents who divorced when she was two. Her mom was the surprise baby of a later second marriage - her nearest sibling was nearly 20 years older. By the time I came along, when Mom was 30, not only were Grams' siblings gone, most of their children were too, so Grams was pretty much it for my mom's side of the house. I'm told that they'd have been nuts over me, and I'd have loved them, if only we'd had the chance. I didn't know my grandfather's name until I was in college, and I know nothing about him.

My dad is one of five. His mother was divorced from his dad when he was quite young, and he and his older and younger sisters were split up and sent into foster care - Grams' family turned their backs on her when she needed help the most. There was a man, who'd loved her for years. He told her that he knew she didn't love him, but he loved her enough for both of them and if she'd marry him, he'd bring her family back together... and so she did. Some time after my two uncles were born, they also divorced - it turned out that he loved her, but he loved alcohol even more. All five kids grew up to be productive, and successful. When the family came back around looking to hitch up to the gravy train, it was made clear - the bridge wasn't just burned... it was gone, with no trace.

So, family for me consists of basically my immediate family, my dad's siblings, their kids and assorted spouses for a grand total (including me) of nineteen people. Total. Then you can start thinking about the geographical area involved amongst these 19 people - Ohio, Michigan, North Carolina, Illinois, Arizona, Texas, Washington, Oregon, California (San Fran and San Diego). We're a bit far-flung. It doesn't help with the closeness.

I have always been the one to organize things - with friends and family. I'm the one that calls, that plans, that pulls everyone and everything into place - and with my family, if I don't do it, it doesn't happen. It's not that they don't love each other, they do. But they'll sit on the freakin' couch and wish someone else would call. I am the only one of us to have visited everyone else's home. When my cousin died in the Fall of 2007, my dad's brothers and sisters all gathered in Ohio to be with my aunt. It was the first time that they'd all been together in almost ten years. (Damn, forgot that he was gone. 18.) I think part of what may be stuck in my craw right now is that none of the out of state relatives even tried to come home for Mom. I've been rationalizing this to myself for weeks - money is tight, she died on Saturday and we buried her on Wednesday so it was short notice to manage (for most of them) a cross-country trek, she wasn't THEIR blood relative - but I'm a bit pissed off about it. Mom and Dad have been married for nearly 45 years. She and Dad practically raised my two uncles. You'd think they'd have at least sent some fucking flowers. *ahem* Maybe a bit more than a bit pissed off.

This came on top of something else, that - while expected - is also something of a burr under my saddle. Several weeks ago, I rented a cabin in southern Ohio for the week after July 4. My parents and my brother will be there for the same week - in two other cabins. Before I actually reserved the cabin, I was talking to my cousin - she who lives in Oregon - and we were talking about how we hadn't seen each other in years, and we were both upset that we only seem to gather for funerals and so on and so she said something about sharing the cabin this summer. She and her husband would take one bedroom, I'd take the other and we'd split the cost in half. She did say that she was worried about money because she owns her own IT business and it's been slow lately but that air tickets were pretty cheap at the time and she thought they could do it. I told her then that if it was the difference between being able to make it or not, I would get the cabin. I was planning on getting it anyway, so it wasn't a big deal. She hemmed and hawed for a bit, and asked about the cancellation policy, and then said that she'd work it out.

She and her friends have gone to Vegas for the weekend once since then. She and her husband have spent nearly a week in San Fransisco with her brother, and another long weekend in Northern California with friends. They "splurged" and bought VERY good seats to several events for the Vancouver Olympics... in 2010. They've spent several hundred dollars on concert tickets. They bought a pure blooded mastiff puppy. I got an email from her last week saying that money was super tight and they were worried about losing the house and there was no way that they were going to make it to the cabin - in July - and she's so upset and she was so looking forward to it and yadda yadda yadda. I just can't work up any sympathy for her situation because I KNEW when she was promising to make arrangements that it wasn't going to happen. As much as she goes on about family and how much she wishes we lived closer and how much it bothers her to not see us... she's never visited me. The last time I went to visit her, my brother and I explored and played tourist alone because - even with 6 months notice - she had used all of her vacation time and couldn't take a single day off work. So I know that this part of her family is just about dead last on her priority list. I recognize that, if I want to see family, I will have to go to them because they will not come to me, or each other. And normally, it's really not that big a deal.

Really, I'm glad that she backed out this early, because I expected to hear from her as I was climbing into the Jeep to start the drive. And self-pity aside, I do have friends - very good ones (just not here). I have a whole new appreciation for how blessed I am to have them - even if they live WAY too far away. (Two of whom somehow ferreted out the calling hour information while being armed with only my name and the date she died and not only showed up but stayed for the whole horrific two hours. I love them, and right now, would walk through fire for either one of them.) Several of whom WILL be joining me in my cabin, and we will have a wonderful time and I'm really looking forward to it. Actually, to be blunt, I'll have a better time with them than I probably would have had with my cousin.

It does sting, though, when I realize that my family will never be what I wish (sometimes quite desperately) they would be. And I can bend until I break, but I can't make them into anything but what they are. As a friend said once, "It's like being mad at the rain for being wet. You don't accomplish anything, and the rain doesn't care." Still hurts though.

*sigh* Well, if you managed to survive the wallow, you deserve something. Here, here's a kitty.

Wordless Wednesday - Mom's Spring Flowers

Happy Birthday To Me.

My birthday is April 11. It is convenient how often that falls on/near Easter, since I am still (technically) an Ohio resident so I have to be here around my birthday to update my tags and registration. (It is legal - I have a permanent address, and my dad's business to thank for that.)

I left my house Friday around 8 pm for the drive back to Ohio for Easter and the Garmin, who still hates me, found an exciting new route. This route was North Carolina to Northeastern Ohio, via the Pennsylvania turnpike. The PA turnpike - a road I've traveled only a couple of times in my life - in the middle of the night, in the pouring rain, with only the crazed speeding truckers for company - AWESOME. The drive, which under good circumstances, takes ten to eleven hours, took nearly 13 this time. I'll definitely NEVER go that way again.

Then, when I finally arrived at my brother's house, at around 9:30 this morning, he informed me that my grandmother died this morning. Really. So I'll be spending the rest of the weekend dealing with that and family. Hopefully at some point, I can put together enough thought to share what a neat person she was in print, as Suldog and MM are wont to do.

Until then, I hope you have a wonderful Easter. Hug the ones you love close for me. If you think of it, send a thought this way.

Spring!

Yay for Spring! It's my favorite! And here, it's actually a Season and not just a passing dream. The pollen has turned everything yellow, so those with allergies are suffering, but I'm very fortunate not to have them so I can just enjoy the colors and the flowers, the froggies singing and the warm breezes.

Here are some pictures from a recent jaunt around town. This is looking from my porch toward the driveway.



The azalas (complete with oak pollen string things) that surround my porch...



These are the weeds that live in my shrubbery around my porch.



I have two very large dogwood trees overhanging my driveway.



The wisteria around here is incredible - it's actually a weed, which is a bit discouraging when I think about how we struggle and pamper and beg the wisteria in Ohio to please just don't die! There are a couple of areas of wild brush that I pass on my way to work every day - this is from one of them.





A random garden... pansies are such cheerful little flowers, and it's mild enough here that they can occasionally survive winter.



Don't forget to stop to enjoy the flowers!

Wordless Wednesday - Spring Toes!

Playin' in the Mud...

Last November, I took a "Clay Date" with a friend. For $35.00 total, the two of us took a two hour class on the basics of working with a pottery wheel. We made a number of bowl-like things that Shelley, the instructor and owner of the store, then trimmed and fired. We came back in and glazed them and then the store fired them again.

These are the two bowls from the clay date. When I started, they were little balls of grey clay.




My friend and I both enjoyed the clay date well enough to sign up for the beginner wheel class. It was six weeks long, and extra time in the studio was covered by the class fee. I spent several Saturday mornings in the studio in addition to the class time. The last class was a week ago last Thursday, when we glazed our work.

Today, on an absolutely beautiful day, I spent my morning in the studio - my first as a member. And, I picked up the first 6 of the bowls I made during class. There are a few more, but they're still waiting for the next firing.


The flash on the camera made a substantial difference in the appearance. The clay we used for class was different than the clay date. It's called speckled brown, and it's A LOT darker.


There was a teapot class at 1:00, so we cleaned up the mess we'd made. My friend brought her lunch - the last of the chicken and dumplings from last Saturday. Our plan was for me to grab takeout from somewhere and eat together at a park... and then one of the other ladies brought in french fries and a burger from next door. OMG it smelled divine! So we hatched a new plan. I bought french fries for both of us and she shared her leftovers - we ended up wolfing it down on a bench in front of the restaurant. So yummy!

As we discussed food options, she kept saying that we had bowls. (She was much more prolific than I was and brought home 12 bowls of assorted sizes today.) I kept looking at her, and saying "I know that!" and then going back to trying to figure out how to split the container of chicken and dumplings. Eventually, the light dawned, and I washed this bowl and used it for my potion of her lunch. It worked quite well.


The rim of the bowl is a raku blue and it bubbled a bit, but I think it'll be okay.


This one started quite a bit taller and then I tried to trim the rim to make it even and ended up with... almost a plate. I need to work on my trimming. (The inside of this bowl is the same glaze as the inside of my clay date bowls - what a difference the clay makes!)


Once, I managed to make the clay go in the direction that I wanted. That would be this bowl. I'm quite happy with it, but I'm not hugely fond of the color. *sigh* Glazing takes practice too. The colors are nothing like what they'll be after firing so it's a gamble.


These next two are quite small. I painted them with a brush, as opposed to the dipping method used on the others. For this one, I was trying for the same shape as the one above... and missed.


Another dinky little bowl...


I'm actually happiest with the glazing on this one. It turned out very even and the colors are good too.


And with the flash on the camera. The color isn't as orange as it looks here.



So, I'll go in on Friday before I head to Ohio for Easter to trim the ones I made today. Hopefully they'll fire the other ones soon and I can bring them home as well. We'll see how well the membership goes. The class was good 'cause it got me out of the office at a reasonable hour at least once a week.