I made a woodcut!
December 25, 2009
We now interrupt our regularly scheduled blog entry so that we may brag about having made art this evening. That’s hand-done art, people. I made a woodcut! Usually I only do this in the summer at Chris Gargan’s Paint ‘n’ Party, but I haven’t had that opportunity for two and a half years.
(In case you’re interested, the topic was supposed to be about sounds that drive you bonkers, and mine is listening to other people cut their fingernails. I would rather listen to 100 people dragging their nails down a chalkboard than hear the snap snap snap of one person with nailclippers.) I decided to get motivated to do a woodcut today, after having cooked a lot, shoveled a lot, and cleaned a lot. A little me time. Fortunately, my parents, and my mom in particular, found it fascinating to observe the process. So did Robbin Rabbit. I’ve never been good at deftly sharpening my tools, but it went well enough. Until it was time to get out the ink, that is. Turns out that when you don’t open the tube for years at a time, its artery hardens and must be dug out with a nut pick. Then it also happens that the ink becomes thick and goopy and is just barely usuable. But it was usable and I got through the printing. When I’m at the Paint ‘n’ Party, the hood of my car is my mobile printing press. Tonight, it was my counter and stove. Instead of hanging the prints to dry on the side of my car, my microwave and pantry cupboard served the purpose. Tomorrow when the light is better, I will select the best one. I would like to show you, but then I’d have to kill you.My horse notebook
December 24, 2009
When I was a tween and young teen, I went through a horse phase. I managed to talk my parents into riding lessons for six months. But most of what happened with regard to me and horses was in my imagination, and a lively one it was.
I developed an entire stable of horses. It was called Mescorola Park Farms and it was home to 111 horses, mostly Thoroughbreds and Arabians. There were also several Quarter horses, a few Appaloosas, and a smattering of Lipizzan, Saddlebreds, and Morgan horses. For each horse, I wrote out the pedigree and made a crayon picture. I would sit in my dad’s den, listening to the radio and recording songs, and making my horses and reading the three or four horse magazines that I subscribed to. As my original stock reproduced, I followed the conventions for each breed in naming the offspring. I was a big Queen and Elton John fan by then, so the names were also influenced by song titles. My horse phase also resulted in my only completion of a longer piece of fiction writing, a story about—you guessed it—a horse farm. I got all sentimental about my horse notebook recently due to having been thinking about my other childhood obsession, the Ford Mustang (from my earlier years); that was the story that began my current spate of blogging. I was certain of the notebook’s location my corner of my parents’ basement so I commissioned my mom to bring it along for their current visit. It’s been 30 years, but I recognize the horses like it was last week. It’s fun to be so utterly transported to another time.Things that make me happy
December 23, 2009
I only had to come up with five, but once you think of one you think of 100. Here are the top pleasure-givers in my life.
The best First by default are Robbin, CJ, and Dasie. Even if they’re not doing any of the innumerable cute and sweet things they do, I only need to look at any one of them to feel better. I treasure their companionship. The other top vote getter is working out at Curves. Not only is it good for me but it makes me feel good. Really good! I’ve become a believer in endorphins, because for a good two hours afterwards, I’m very joyful, regardless of how my day had been going previously. The rest in no particular order (well, in a little bit of order) Writing this blog Good beer (the two pictured are my favorites), and related to that, a nice wine buzz Pizza “Dancing with the Stars” — Say what you want to about reality tv, but you just can’t beat this show for feel good escapism, especially when people experience life-changing personal growth, like Kelly Osborne did this past season. The show is a joy to watch. Anthony Bourdain — when I watch his tv show I just want to eat and drink. It’s fun. Craig Ferguson — the man is a comic genius. The thought of moving to London Travel in general, especially long car trips by myself — Particularly effective if I can stay off the interstates and just take state and U.S. highways and go through towns. Going to baseball games Pigeons — I love pigeons. There are a couple of flocks that I encounter frequently. The one near my home has lots of mottled and white members. Mother Nature — When she throws up a rainbow or shows me tracks in the snow, or one lone tulip in a random place, or Maxfield Parrish colors in the sunset.(Through the) kitchen window
December 22, 2009
I don’t have much of a view out my kitchen window. If I lean one way, I can look into my neighbor’s kitchen. If I lean the other way, I can sort of look into his living room. I can see to the back of the building, but that’s easier if I just go to my bedroom window.
At least I have a kitchen window. The kitchen that I previously used for 11 years had no window. It wasn’t even on an outside wall. It was a little galley kitchen in the interior building hallway wall. My view now isn’t all that great, but at least it goes beyond my wall. I love to cook and spend a lot of time on Saturdays and Sundays flitting around my bigger but still not huge cooking area. If I open the mini-blinds, it seems somewhat more roomy, especially if it’s daytime. Growing up, I have the fondest memories of our house that was two doors down from the Methodist church. But when we moved to our house on Willeke Avenue, I know my mom was really excited to be going to a kitchen that looked out the front of the house. That’s where the interesting things happened, apparently. Now, my parents’ kitchen looks out the back of the house. But I know my mom enjoys that view, too, as she encourages the local wildlife to visit the yard, even squirrels. @thedigitalghost, her central Wisconsin squirrels are even fatter than most Northern squirrels. Fergus would be beside himself. No, I don’t have the greatest view out my kitchen window, but the mortgage makes it and the kitchen all mine! Omigosh, did I just find a positive about having bought a place?Look deep into my eyes
December 20, 2009
Breathe deeply and concentrate. Focus on my beautiful green eyes. You are beginning to feel sleepy. That’s it, just let yourself go. Relax … relax …
This was one of those more creative assignments that gets you doing something you wouldn’t ordinarily. Usually moving the camera is frowned upon, but this photo was taken while I was jumping. Blurring was encouraged. I think it was supposed to be a little more unintelligible so that would be a guessing game as to the subject, but I just love how this photo turned out.Where I like to eat downtown
December 19, 2009
In the workaday world, sometimes you really just look forward to getting away from your desk to go get some food. Sometimes that food is breakfast grabbed on the way in. I have my favorite places in the skyway for meal procurement.
Overall, the place I most often frequent is The Brothers Deli, usually for breakfast, though sometimes I get lunch there. Their breakfasts are hardy and inexpensive. For $3.20, I get either the veggie wrap (two eggs scrambled and wrapped in a tortilla with cheese, mushrooms, bell peppers, onions, and salsa; I liberate it from the tortilla), or scrambled eggs with bacon and toast. A small cup of the most delicious fresh-squeezed orange juice is included with either. For lunch, I like their house salad which is sort of like a chicken chef salad. The sandwiches are also pretty tasty. They fly the pastrami in from New York City. I used to go to Potbelly a lot until I paid attention to what sodium bombs the sandwiches are. Their salads are also good. My other most-frequented lunch spot is Asian Max. It’s another one of those heap-of-vaguely-Asian-food-for-a-decent-price places, but I feel like they use nicer, fresher ingredients. My usual fare is sesame chicken with two of three spicy green beans, cucumber salad or spring roll. It’s always service with a smile. Coming in third is sushi. I like it best from Kikugawa but they’re also the most expensive, so sometimes I go to either of a couple of other fast sushi counters. Of course none of it is as good as if you were sitting in an actual restaurant, but it will do. I have discovered that I really like using chopsticks.Coworker appreciation day
December 18, 2009
It’s true that in whatever context, you are more likely to hear about the negative. So in the spirit of being positive, today we wrote encouraging notes to coworkers. I do have my unfavorite coworker who I love to slag off, but today I took a few moments to appreciate the joy that a different coworker brings to my life two days a week.
His name is Chris and he works from home on Tuesdays and Thursdays. He’s also my beer guru and helps keep me informed on good ones that I should try. I thank him for my love of Sierra Nevada Celebration Ale.
I never had any doubt that when he began telecommuting there would be afternoon beer involved. So on Tuesdays and Thursdays via iChat, it quickly became my custom to check in. It is not to see how his work is going. No, I always have the same one-word query for him: beer? I am rewarded with a photo of Chris and his beer, mugging for the camera. All afternoon I look forward to the moment when I can ask my question. There is no reason why I should enjoy these photos so much.
I have amassed quite a collection of images in the year or so that he’s been working at home. When it came time to make his office birthday card in May, I knew just what to do!
So today I wrote him a little note that read Chris, Thanks for being a good sport and sending me all your beer pictures. It really does brighten my day. Kelly
It comes with centipedes and a nice draft in winter
December 17, 2009
I had no business being given a mortgage. I wasn’t even UN-seriously looking for a place. Yet two months later, there I was in my very own condo.
It all started with simple curiosity. The Twin Cities, like most places, had been going through condofication for a number of years. The majority new construction, but a lot of the old apartment buildings were being converted from rentals to condominiums. There was one such building in my old neighborhood, and I was very curious to know the asking price on an apartment that was for sale in it. I was not entertaining any notion of buying it or anything else, but I just wanted to satisfy my smug self that it was going for far too much. In the course of trying to find its listing, I came across the listing for my place. I was basically convinced immediately upon seeing the character of the exterior of the building. I met the estate agent to see the interior, which was just fine, and had plenty of character of its own. The building is a Swedish row house (Minnesota is the land of Scandanavians), and the apartment was long and narrow with no interior walls (no distinct rooms) except for the bathroom and three good-sized closets. I explained to the realtor the realities of my financial situation and that I was pretty certain that I wouldn’t actually be able to make a purchase. She gave me the name and number of a fellow who she said might be able to help me. Turns out he was a miracle worker. I have been in my place for about four years now. Whereas I used to be completely squeamish about spiders, I now squish centipedes with aplomb (even the ones with inch-and-a-half long bodies) and scoff at puny spiders. It helps that centipedes aren’t crunchy. The building was, apparently, constructed in the 1890s. Although the interiors were redone relatively recently, there’s still no denying its age. The building is constantly in motion and my floor has an ever-evolving contour (I’m on the ground floor, “garden level” as it’s quaintly called), so there are ample little cracks for frigid winter air to draft in. The windows are in good shape, but I’ve found that it nonetheless helps tremendously to seal them off with the 3M shrinkwrap stuff. When there’s a north wind, I watch the plastic over my bedroom window “breathe” and am pleased that I neither feel that breeze nor have to pay the extra heating bill. My building is also part of the Minneapolis music scene. Morris Day and the Time shot their debut album cover photo ON MY FRONT STEPS! They were a Prince spin-off who established a reputation in their own right. Although there are reasons why I wish I didn’t, I know the prevailing opinion is that it’s sensible to own rather than rent. Yay.
Kelly goes shopping for shoes
December 16, 2009
I like shopping about as much as I like going to the dentist (nothing personal, Dr. Ottavi, you???re great as dentists go, but you???re still a dentist). So it was with low expectations that I went shopping for new winter boots this evening. I was filled with trepidation as I recalled my unsuccessful attempts this past summer to find sandals that were walk-inable yet not 200% butt-ugly.
The outing did not start out on a positive note, well, for two reasons, really. First, the temperature is hovering right around 0??F/-17??C. Who wants to go out in that? Second, I was trying to find the REI and Gander Mountain stores that are supposedly near each other and as conveniently located to my home as any other stores but to which I had never been before. I failed to find either of them.
What I did find was a DSW store, the chain (though not the particular store) of my failed sandal seeking. I had my heart set on a new pair of Columbia boots, but the closest DSW came was Timberland and Merrill. I liked the style of a couple of the Merrills, but they weren???t quite comfortable enough. I finally settled on a pair of BareTraps in a completely different style than my old Columbias, but comfortable and roomy enough for my extra pair of thick wool socks that I add in the coldest of weather.
I also needed a new pair of house slippers as my rabbit Robbin has done a number on my old ones???he enjoys nibbling on leather laces. BareTraps boots in hand, I moseyed over to the slipper section and immediately zeroed in on a nice-looking red pair. Not that I particularly like or dislike red, but they just looked right AND they had no leather laces. Fortunately, they were immediately comfortable, so that was a relatively painless decision.
Then, as I was feeling satisfied about my selections, I stood in the aisle like Lewis (or Clark, take your pick) and surveyed the rest of the ladies??? section. My eye zeroed in on a pair of Nikes. I???ve always had good luck with Nikes. And New Balance. (And Levis jeans. Slow and steady wins the race.) I tried on the Nikes and they were???no surprise???comfortable.
I took another look around and spied a pair of casual shoes that were styled like bowling shoes, so you know I had to check them out. They were a little a little tight so I declined. Plus, they and the Nikes would have been $150 additional to the boots and slippers. I reigned myself in and ???only??? spent $60 extra. Hey, it???s been three years since I bought myself a new pair of shoes.
So, in honor of my successful shoe shopping, I chose to draw you for today???s assignment, Imelda. Also, I drew you in an actual sketchbook. That’s new.
Another post script: I discovered what Rocket Dog does when he’s not jetting around the galaxy. Who knew? Apparently neither athanie nor coco-tidan ???
Solitude
December 15, 2009
One of the things about being an only child is that I’m used to being on my own (especially as an only child who’s been single all her life, more or less). I experience solitude most of the time that I’m not at the office. It’s just who I am and I absolutely don’t mind it.
As today has worn on, I’ve realized that there are two kinds of solitude—happenstance and self-imposed. I suffer from the self-imposed. Not suffer, rather, experience, because I’ve chosen it. Suffer implies that it’s thrust upon you. I embrace it. Oh, I can put on the social butterfly face if I must, if I’m well-rested, have psyched myself up, and perhaps, just perhaps, have had a tasty beverage or two.
(That’s what I like about writing these blog entries— suffering? tasty beverage? Where did that come from? This is supposed to be about being a loner and sitting next to big water.)
I tried having roommates way back when. The three of us had rent payment issues. We had “I thought I didn’t have to share a bedroom” issues. I swore I’d never have another roommate until I was, you know, married. I’ll be living by myself forever, it seems.
Right, then.
When I’m in the mood for meta-solitude, I seek out water.
It can be as simple as small running water, such as a faucet, my morning shower, a public fountain. There’s something about that trickling sound, that dance of a stream of water small or large, the feel of it beating against your chest in the shower, the warmth of it flowing over your fingers, the sound of it dancing through the leaves of the trees outside your open window in the summer.
Big water is even better. I used to hang out on the shore of Lake Superior at a friend’s place. You get lost in the lack of horizon. You get mesmerized by the sound. One of the best times of my life was singing Del Amitri songs to myself out loud on the shore of the Firth of Forth in North Berwick. Scottish in Scotland. It was late in the evening, late in June, which meant that there was ample lightness still at 11 p.m. It was just about perfect. It was just about opposite of current conditions.
Boats are good, too. I tend to get seasick on the larger ones, such as ferries going between, say, Land’s End and the Isles of Scilly. But conceptually, I love boats and being on the water and will always say yes. I’ve floated up the Thames to Greenwich; I think it would be very satisfactory to go on a longboat in the the other direction.
Just this morning, I engaged in solitude with my sleeping bag winter coat. When I got on the train, I didn’t push back my hood to embrace my environment. I left my parka snorkel in place and enjoyed being antisocial and diddling on my iPhone.
Antisocial. There’s a whole other topic.
Postscript: I was going to end with the above, but in rereading I realized that I didn’t even mention how much I love sitting on my front step in the summer. I like it when I’ve walked or biked home and been inside to change into something cooler and go back outside, and then am finally still, just enjoying breathing the air, listening to the birds, squirrels and maybe the neighborhood people sounds, and maybe sipping on a tasty beverage.
And don’t even get me started on how much I love roadtripping by myself (apparently you didn’t). I get into tiffs with bowling friends because I refuse to carpool with them to Chicago for our annual tournament. I just love driving alone, staying off the interstates, taking instead U.S. and state highways, going more slowly and passing through every small town. That is so incredibly relaxing to me, a little holiday inside my car for eight hours.
Water and driving, for the win.
Kelly’s Unnecessary Blog 