Ginny's Small Studio

9-11

It was my morning to come in late to the store (Creative Block). I was puttering around the house with some music on when my middle son and business partner, Tim, called and asked me if I had the TV on. I turned it on while on the phone with him, just in time to see the second plane hit the towers. I quickly drove to the store where we gathered with our employees for several hours watching the store TV.  Just like everyone else we could not believe what we were seeing.

The days following were so abnormal all over the country and our days were no different.  No customers came into the store for at least a week. We spent those empty days discussing Art Continuum.  It was coming up in just another week or two. We were expecting a total of 750 students, 33 instructors and 35 vendors. Should we cancel it? We called the hotel where the event was to be held. They first told us that they had received no cancellations for room reservations. Secondly they told us we were responsible for any lost revenue if we cancelled. That meant we would not have the money to reimburse the attendees if we cancelled. Events were being cancelled all over the country. People were afraid to fly and 75% of our attendees came from out of state. We didn't know what to do.

The week before Art Continuum we began to be deluged with phones calls from people wanting assurance that Art Continuum would go on. We said yes. Many people who were going to fly decided to drive. In the end, we only had 3 people cancel.

The event turned out to be the best of all the Art Continuums. We really needed each other.  We needed to take a small break from the sadness and fear we were all feeling. We needed the release, the comfort and the joy that art gives us. We needed something to make us feel normal again. There was more hugging, more kindness, more friendship and camarderie at an event that had always encompassed these things on a large scale. We were allowed to smile again. It was art therapy at its zenith. Art Continuum 2001 stands out in my mind as the best above all the rest of our events.

A few blogs entries ago I dedicated my words to my oldest son Wes on his birthday. That little baby I am holding in the first photo now works at the Pentagon. A couple of years ago, John and I were visiting Wes and his family. Wes organized a special tour of the Pentagon for us. Part of the tour took us to the memorial garden near the location were one of the 9-11 planes crashed. There is an abstract type of bench for each person killed on that day at the Pentagon. It was quite moving to stand there and really grasp how many innocent people died just there that day. 

Today is difficult for all of us, but my heart goes out to those who lost loved ones.

Royal Wedding

Are you planning on watching the royal wedding on Friday? There has been such a fuss in the US media. Do you think Queen Elizabeth will skip over Charles and make Will king?  Do you even care?

I was in London the week leading up to Charles and Diane's wedding way back when.  The preparations were amazing then and fun to observe.  One could only surmise that the various vendors, retail outlets and workers were profiting greatly by this wedding.  Hotels were overflowing, restaurants difficult to get reservations and streets crowded.  We were happy to leave and return home.  I watched parts of it on TV with friends at a "wedding party".

I have been noticing that there are many things one can buy if a royal party is what you want.  How about Will and Kate Pez dispensers?

Maybe you want to serve a special brew?  How about a bottle of Kiss Me Kate?

Dessert is always welcome at parties.  I offer you several choices:

Cookies or "bisquits" above and cupcakes on a stick below.

Maybe you have ssues with the whole thing.

However you feel, I wish them the best of luck and hope they have a loving, long life together.

!00 Years Ago

There has been much written online, in the papers and on TV about Ronald Reagan lately.  He would have been 100 years old this year.  My dad would have been 100 years old Jan 27th. He died when he was 66 so he missed out on so much.  He met his grandchildren, but they were all very young when he passed away. My brother and I still have remembering fests some days about dad. We argue about who was his favorite, but then he made all of us feel like his favorite. He was a great dad, a really great dad.  Here is a list of facts about the world he and Ronald Reagan were born into.  

It May Be Hard to Believe That A Scant 100 Years Ago...

• The average life expectancy in the United States was forty-seven.
• Only 14 percent of the homes in the United States had a bathtub.
• Only 8 percent of the homes had a telephone. A three minute call from Denver to New York City cost eleven dollars.
• There were only 8,000 cars in the US and only 144 miles of paved roads.
• The maximum speed limit in most cities was ten mph.
• Alabama, Mississippi, Iowa, and Tennessee were each more heavily populated than California. With a mere 1.4 million residents, California was only the twenty-first most populous state in the Union.
• The tallest structure in the world was the Eiffel Tower.
• The average wage in the U.S. was twenty-two cents an hour. The average U.S. worker made between $200 and $400 per year.
• A competent accountant could expect to earn $2000 per year, a dentist $2500 per year, a veterinarian between $1500 and $4000 per year, and a mechanical engineer about $5000 per year.
• More than 95 percent of all births in the United States took place at home.




• Ninety percent of all U.S. physicians had no college education. Instead, they attended medical schools, many of which were condemned in the press and by the government as "substandard."
• Sugar cost four cents a pound.
• Eggs were fourteen cents a dozen.
• Coffee cost fifteen cents a pound.
• Most women only washed their hair once a month and used borax or egg yolks for shampoo.
• Canada passed a law prohibiting poor people from entering the country for any reason, either as travelers or immigrants.
• The five leading causes of death in the U.S. were: 1. Pneumonia and influenza 2. Tuberculosis 3. Diarrhea 4. Heart disease 5. Stroke
• The American flag had 45 stars. Arizona, Oklahoma, New Mexico, Hawaii and Alaska hadn't been admitted to the Union yet.
• Drive-by-shootings, in which teenage boys galloped down the street on horses and started randomly shooting at houses, carriages, or anything else that caught their fancy, were an ongoing problem in Denver and other cities in the West.
• The population of Las Vegas, Nevada was thirty. The remote desert community was inhabited by only a handful of ranchers and their families.




• Plutonium, insulin, and antibiotics hadn't been discovered yet. Scotch tape, crossword puzzles, canned beer, and iced tea hadn't been invented.
• There was no Mother's Day or Father's Day.
• One in ten U.S. adults couldn't read or write. Only 6 percent of all Americans had graduated from high school.
• Some medical authorities warned that professional seamstresses were apt to become sexually aroused by the steady rhythm, hour after hour, of the sewing machine's foot pedals. They recommended slipping bromide, which was thought to diminish sexual desire,into the woman's drinking water.
• Marijuana, heroin, and morphine were all available over the counter at corner drugstores. According to one pharmacist, "Heroin clears the complexion, gives buoyancy to the mind, regulates the stomach and the bowels, and is, in fact, a perfect guardian of health.
• Coca-Cola contained cocaine instead of caffeine.
• Punch card data processing had recently been developed, and early predecessors of the modern computer were used for the first time by the government to help compile the 1900 census.
• Eighteen percent of households in the United States had at least one full-time servant or domestic.

Author Unknown

Pretty Amazing, isn't it?  I remember my grandmother telling me when I was a teenager, that there had been so many changes, inventions and discoveries in her lifetime, that there couldn't possibly be another generation experiencing so much again.  She was wrong. I can't imagine the world my grandchildren will live in as adults.

The Shopping Cart of Life

When John and I decided to get married four years ago, our five collective children lived in 5 different states and because of one thing and another, we were unable to set a date and place where all of them could be there.  After agonizing over this we decided to elope in Las Vegas.  Both of us were disappointed, but that's what we did.  The officiant was a happy person who wanted to make it special. The long monologue of advice for a happy marriage included an offering about the "Shopping Cart of Life".  We were admonished to only add things that were good for us, happy things that would enrich our life and nourish our marriage.  Never put anything in that could spoil or cause decay to the rest of the ingredients in the shopping cart.  We were very emotional during the ceremony and didn't listen carefully.  Later when we talked about this advice we started to laugh at the analogy and wished we could remember all that was said.  Instead we have adapted what we think was said to fit whatever is currently going on with us.  It has grown and been elaborated on way beyond (maybe way beneath) what was meant to be good advice.  It has become fodder for much good natured mockery.  Actually the advice was very good. Recently we saw this little shopping cart and had to have it to remind us of our wedding day.  

Five Things That Make Me Happy Today

1. Watching John set up his workshop.  He has set up a back storage room of the basement with all his various saws and other manly tools and pegboard and cabinets to make it all convenient.  He added ceiling lights bright enough to work under.  He added a vacuum system for the dust he creates.  He is happy.  It makes me happy.

2.  Facebook.  Say what you will about it being a time waster, but I find it wonderful. I have grandkids,nieces and nephews. in-laws, old friends from high school and various other people in far flung parts of the US and Europe who normally would not have time to stay in touch.  FaceBook makes it easy to say hi, drop a comment, see the pictures of the various kids, gardens, projects, performances, whatever that might have been missed.

3.  The holidays are coming!  I love Thanksgiving.  I love Christmas.  I love family.

4.  I am so enjoying the current book I am reading.  It is Centennial by James Michener.  I read decades ago.  My brother did sets for the mini-series on TV way back when.  I enjoyed reading it then and even more now since I have been to the areas where the story is centered.

5.  I am so grateful to my customers.  You buried me in orders the past few days!  Thank you!  I am all caught up now and will resume my blogging.

Friendship

Years ago, I think it was the late 80s, when I first got on the internet I was on Prodigy.  I typed in "Rubber Stamps" and found a small group of about 20 people who were chatting on a shared list about stamping.  They all had stamp names like Stampo or Ex Posto Facto or Rubber Queen or Arto Posto.  The group was extremely active in mailing stuff back and forth. When I say stuff, I mean stuff.  Sure there were cards and envelopes, but also paper plates, Barbie dolls, shoes and all matter of other stuff unadorned, unwrapped, unboxed, but definitely stamped both with postage and rubber stamps and the Post Office let it all go through.  We were a tight group. We joked, we argued over what is art and we shared each others ups and downs.  Most of us had not met in person. Through the years several of us opened stores and several of us started stamp lines. Some became involved in mail art, some in formal art and a few drifted away.  When we come across each other either in person or online, it is a warm and friendly reunion.  It is as if we are family and had grown up together. Solid old friendships, they are.

Rubber stamping during my involvement, has gone through many transformations. It started out as funky and quirky and then became very cute with fluffy animals and fat simple flowers. Then it transformed itself into sophisticated art designs and I think now it has gone back to mostly cute and is generally clear stamps for scrapbookers full of words and phrases, flowers and scrolls.  There was a 20 year heyday for stamps that is slowly fading away.  The conventions have dwindled and there are very few true stamp stores left. 

What made me think about all this?  Yesterday I had to move all my stamp storage to get at the phone jack in my art room. I realized that I had not used a fraction of my stamps in a long time.  I thought that maybe I should try to sell them or donate them to a school art department.  As I looked at them, I realized how much I love those old friends, my stamps, and could not part with them, so back they went into their drawers. I will use them again, I am sure.

Today John hung an old architectural piece we recently purchased on impulse.  I love how it looks over the doorway!

Woodstock

Although I was of that generation, I did not go to Woodstock.  I was a new mom at the time.  My then husband worked for the establishment and was happily working his way up the rungs of the corporate ladder while finishing his college business degree.  We had our first little house and a station wagon. We understood what Woodstock stood for, but the type of person who attended Woodstock was certainly not part of our social circle.  No, we were so outside that whole scene.  John on the other hand, owned tie-dyed shirts, had an afro and was totally into that whole lifestyle, but he wasn't able to go to Woodstock either.  He had been drafted into the Army and was slated to go to Viet Nam.  This never came to be, but he had orders to go that were rescinded the night before his departure.

The photo above makes the event look pretty organized and it did begin that way.  The organization just didn't work for the quarter million unexpected attendees.  They ran out of food.  There were not enough sanitary facilities and there was a huge rain storm with dramatic lightning.  I remember reading all about it and seeing reports on TV while it was going on.  I remember being very glad I wasn't there.

The other night when J and I went to see Julie & Julia, the theatre was giving away posters for a new movie called Taking Woodstock.  I love the 60s graphics and art work.  

Question of the Day:

Do you go to Woodstock or did your parents go?

And the Winner is.....

Some of you noticed that the blog previous had a small change made to it.  Okay, I made a mistake.  I wrote the post late at night after a long day of playing with the kids.  My mind was scrambled from doing jigsaw puzzles, after all we completed (5) 1000 piece puzzles in 2 weeks.  Making necklaces, origami projects, sightseeing and generally having a good time ruined my focus and concentration.  Seems I was off 100 blog posts.  This one is actually number 401.

Today at 4 minutes after 10AM my grandkids, who leave today, picked number.......

Vicki is the winner!  

Please e-mail me with your address and the items you want.  Congratulations Vicki and thank you all for posting.

Regular programming returns tomorrow.

Missing

I have a great life, an almost perfect life, but still I miss some things.

1.  I miss living near my brothers.

2. I miss the Southern California mountains that were the backdrop to my youth.

3. Heck, I miss my youth.

  

4.  I miss my dad (see photo above)

5.  I miss my old store and the customers/friends who used to sit on our stools and visit.

6. I miss doing conventions and shows.

They are all great memories and I will have them forever, but today is a wonderful opportunity to make some new memories that I can look back on with affection.  Are you making good memories today?

P.S.  Some new items have been added to my etsy shop.  Also, we are running out of Graphic 45 papers in my EMPORIUM.  If you have been waiting to order them, now is a good time.

The Beach

Every one in Blogland who lives in CA is talking about the heat.  How well I remember growing up in Southern CA, being in school when it was a perfect beach day.  Our beach of choice was Zuma beach. It was where all the cool kids hung out or at least the ones who thought they were cool.  It was about an hour drive from Burbank, where I grew up.  It had a deep sandy beach and there was plenty of room for everyone.  

When we were young and went with our parents, we loved to run up to the waves and run back as fast as we could.  Mom would always make serious picnic food instead of the quick stuff we wanted to eat fast so we could get back to our running and shouting.

The photo above was taken at Zuma when I was about 14 or 15.  I am there with my brother.  The photo is proof that he took me although I can't imagine that it was cool to take your younger sister to the beach.  I was in high school during the 60s surfer era.  The guys had station wagons with the wood panels nicknamed "Woodys".  The surfer dudes bleached their hair out and said stuff like "Surf's Up" and wore longish Hawaiian shirts and shorts.  The Beach Boys ruled the airwaves as did Jan and Dean.  Not everyone surfed but everyone dressed and talked as though they did.  Those were the days, my friend.  We thought they'd never end, etc, etc.

Have Your Cake.....

My mom used to make this incredible cake.  I have no idea where the recipe came from originally so I can't give proper credit.  It is always a hit with guests and family and I am often asked to bring it to family gatherings.  My sisters-in-law also make Mom's cake. Mom was a cake snob.  Yes, she was. She always made her cakes from scratch and would look displeased if it was a "box" cake. Imagine our surprise when Mom started baking cakes from the dreaded boxed mixes.  

  

Karen asked me to bring three cakes to Tim's party and this is the recipe she chose for me to make.

This is a really nice moist cake.  We keep leftovers in the refrigerator.

Mom's Chocolate Kahlua Bundt Cake

1 box chocolate cake mix (really any variety will do)

1 small package Instant chocolate pudding

2 cups sour cream

4 eggs

1/3 cup Kahlua

3/4 cup vegetable oil

6 oz chocolate chips

Mix the first 6 ingredients together and beat for 5 minutes

Pour into a greased and floured bundt pan

Scatter the chocolate chips on top and cut slightly into batter with a knife

Bake at 350 for 60 minutes or until a tester comes out clean.

Cool for 10 minutes in pan and then turn out onto serving plate.

Serve cold with whipped cream.  Best with homemade whipped cream flavored with a little Kahlua

Some other time I will give you Mom's Pineapple Orange Cake.  

Thinking about Mom, I am reminded of the "sisters' cookie competition" that went on every holiday when I was a kid.  My mom had six sisters, but only three of them lived nearby. Come Christmas or Thanksgiving, each sister baked and baked and baked cookies and then baked some more.  Each sister would load her best and largest silver platter with maybe a dozen different kinds of cookies.  We always thought our mom's cookies were the best.  One aunt used anise and almond flavors in her cookies which I never liked much, but she made the best butter cookies and cannolis.  Another aunt made wonderful pizzelle cookies although we always called them Navela cookies because they were orange flavored.  But mom made Christmas tree cookies, chocolate pecan cookies, cinnamon stars and a number of other delights.  The only cookie she baked that I didn't like was fruitcake cookies which took her forever to make.  Whenever I think of my mom I always picture her in her small kitchen baking and cooking.  I am sure she would rather I remember her for being a successful legal secretary or editor of a Lockheed newsletter well into her 80s, but I remember her in her kitchen.  I really think she was happiest there making food for everyone.  It was how she showed love.

For many years I made cookies en masse at Christmas, too, but then I just stopped.  I can't remember why, but my daughter Amy also has fond memories of her grandma in the kitchen baking. Amy has many of mom's recipes and my recipes and she faithfully keeps the tradition and makes a dozen different kinds and gives big plates of them away to her neighbors and friends. 

Traditions are so entwined in families.  Some are deliberately made and some just happen.  Some are fondly remembered and some we might just wish would disappear, but they stay with us in actions or maybe just memory.  

Last Year

Last year at this time, we were in the middle of remodeling our kitchen, master bath and finishing our basement.  We were without sinks on the first floor, no stove and the refrigerator was in the garage. While this was going on, it seemed as if it was taking forever and would never end.  In reality, the entire remodel took about three months.  It was definitely worth the ordeal.  We love everything we did to the house and it all works really well for us.  The remodel project seems like it was forever ago and I am ready for another big project.

Last year at this time, we had only been in the house for 4 months and Ohio was still new to John. Things and places and temperatures are more familiar to John and it all feels more like home, he tells me.  I worried that this lifelong CA guy would dislike it here where the sun doesn't always shine and heavy jackets have to be worn for months at a time.  I worried needlessly.

My 30" tin and wood angel that stands guard all year.

Last year we drove between CA and OH in July, in August and again at Christmas. John went to Brazil and I was still doing Stampers Anonymous shows. We love road trips, but we are glad we aren't driving to CA this month.  We didn't feel settled into this home until about February of this year and I think one of the reasons was that we were gone so much plus the upheaval of the remodel.  Now we refer to our home as Ginny and John's clubhouse.  There are so many places to play and work in this house.  It seems to be perfect for now, for us and we are happy to be home more.

We finished the 46 name tags and made a triptych presentation board and we have one of three cakes made for a party we are helping to give this weekend.  We have so enjoyed working together on these projects.  My work table in my art room has proven to be a good buy.  The generous (105") top allows both of us to work and spread out comfortably. When I am in this room, I declare that it is my favorite room, but then so is the kitchen, especially when it is full of family.

Do you have a favorite room?  Why?

Three Things

I am working on several projects right now.  I have been asked to make 40 very special and "creative" name tags for an event. They won't take long because there are only 40 of them.  I can probably finish them in an afternoon, but the planning stage always takes a week.  I have at least a dozen different ideas for them and have played with these ideas, rejecting some and setting aside others for further consideration.  I just have to decide on one and get going.  John is antsy for me to make a decision because he has offered to do the cutting and part of the assembly.  I think he likes to do repetitive work. Doing this kind of work is so far into his comfort zone which harkens back to him kitting up for 160 or more high school art students every day.  I think he misses it even though he adamantly denies this.

When I was growing up, we always had to go around the Thanksgiving table telling everyone what we were grateful for.  I could always tell by my mother's face whether I had passed the test of being grateful enough.  As my own kids got older, the ritual brought groans and jokes, mostly at my expense, but they always indulged me.

About a dozen years ago, I found myself in a very sad situation.  My three kids had married and moved far away. I was newly divorced and had just sold my business.  I hadn't decided what to do with myself or how to reinvent my life.  A young family moved in across the street.  I ignored them and wallowed in my self-pity.  One Saturday morning, the dad and his 5 year old son showed up at my door.  They were wearing matching tool belts.  The dad asked if there were any little jobs they could do to teach his son to help his neighbors.  It became a regular Saturday event.  I noticed that they did not go to any of the other homes on our street.  They were both good company and soon the mom came with them just to visit. We became very good friends. On Tuesday nights, the dad worked late and the mom, the little boy Will and I would go out to dinner.   As we got into the car, Will would always ask me to tell him three things that made me happy that day. I realized that they were number one on the list.  They turned me around with their kindnesses to me.  I realized that I was actually pretty happy and ready to move on. The "name three things" ritual has stayed with me. I never go to bed without making my list of three. Now John has joined me in this evening gratitude.  It is such a good, positive way to end the day.

Speaking of gratitude, Keith Lo Bue, who lives in Australia, told me  that he was invited to a real American Thanksgiving dinner with other Americans.  He said that he almost passed out with homesickness at the sight of pumpkin pie.  It is definitely the small things that make one happiest.

I loved reading all your comments on holiday cards.

Today's question: What is your favorite part of Christmas?

Small World

Last month when Paul Newman died, I shared my Paul Newman stories with you.  One of those stories included a mention that I had worked as Strother Martin's personal assistant way back when.

Last week I received an e-mail from a nice man named Greg Smith who was researching Strother and came across my blog entry about him.  Greg bought the former home of Strother and Helen Martin from Helen after Strother died.  Helen gave him some small mementos and he also found some things left in the garage.

The above photo is from the movie "Cool Hand Luke".  Strother was famous for the line "What we have here is failure to communicate" spoken to Paul Newman.

Greg and I have exchanged a few e-mails relaying to each other our stories of Strother.  It has been interesting and a pleasant trip down Memory Lane.  He sent me these movie stills of Strother.  I am so pleased to have them.  Isn't it a small world and aren't people just so nice?

Aren't random acts of kindness the very best?  

Have you been the recipient of an unexpected kindness?  

Parade

There are a few reasons to title this post "Parade".

First, the parade of books I have been receiving in the mail just keeps coming.  I often pre-order books from Amazon long before they are published.  Then it is a pleasant surprise when a new book arrives.  Today the book is True Vision.  The format is interesting.  On each two page spread there are photos of journal pages with a general description of how the artist approached the page.  Then in one corner is a journal prompt to inspire the reader.  Turn the book sideways and there is a tip, suggestion or technique to help the reader think outside their comfort zone (perhaps).  By having to turn the book, one is given another view of the art pages.  The reader just naturally becomes more involved with the book and the contents.

I like it. 

The parade theme of this post continues with a real parade.  Last weekend was the annual Avon Heritage Duct Tape Parade.  No, really!  There were "floats" all made with, you guessed it, duct tape.  People in the parade had made costumes out of duct tape.  It was all so ingenious and creative and fun.

The float above is from Whistler's Ice Cream Parlor and the one below from one of the local church groups.

Here is a close-up of the artistic use of duct tape.  I think the parade started as a promotional gimmick since one of the leading brands of duct tape is made in Avon OH, but it has become a very popular summer festival.

The next is a stretch for my parade theme, but we are all friends here, so what the heck.  I offer a parade of memories on this blog of my dad.  Years ago, when I was a newlywed, Dad made each of us (my brothers and me) a little bench.  It was the only thing I think Dad ever made.  The bench is about 12" wide and 24" long.  He suggested we use it in the garage as a stool with the under shelf used for tools.  I used it as he suggested for awhile and then it was painted white and my daughter used it for a stage for her Barbie dolls for a few years.  After that it went back to the garage where it got banged up, scratched, abused but always used and always with memories of how proud Dad was that he had made it himself.  That little bench has moved all over the country and abroad with me.  Too bad I can't claim frequent flyer miles for it.  Today, John and I were straightening up the garage and there was the little bench.  I got out my paint and some canvas fabric and gave Dad's bench a little makeover.  It will now live in the house, in the guest room as a luggage rack for my visitors.  This quick little project was fun to do. Quick projects are my favorite projects.  It also gave me so much pleasure to restore the usefulness of this simple bench that really means so much to me.

Only four more days until the parade of family starts arriving.  I am so excited.

No Time

"They" always say that as you get, shall we say, more mature, that time seems to lag.  But for me, one minute it is Tuesday and the next it is the weekend.  I don't know where the time goes. I don't know what we are doing that seems to make the time fly.  I cannot figure out why we are so busy when we are here in retirement land.  But time flies, the days whiz by and sometimes, just sometimes, I wonder how.

I signed up for a book class at a scrapbook store on a whim.  The class description led me to believe that we would be using several tools that I own, but had not really played with.  This, I thought, would force me to use them and become comfortable with them.  What did I learn in this class?  I learned the difference between scrapbooking classes and workshops.  The project was a book made with clear acrylic covers and a variety of different pages. It was a nice little book.  The class kit was thick with materials, but everything was done for us.  All the pages had been cut to size, folded, punched, scored or whatever else they required.  We pasted some things to other things and collated the pages which were ready for binding. The instructor, who was really a nice young woman, did the coils for us.  Everyone's book was exactly the same, which is okay sometimes, but this required no thought, no skill and no design decisions on our part at all.  I came home with a cute (and I emphasize the word "cute") little finished book, but the class taught nothing.  I didn't even get my hands dirty. I really miss the more in-depth classes I took in Los Angeles.

I received an e-mail from the current yearbook editor at Burbank High School in CA.  The school is celebrating its 100 year anniversary.  She is contacting all the previous yearbook editors and asking us to fill out a questionnaire on our experiences back in the day.  I didn't think I would remember anything of interest, but as I began answering the questions, memories of high school came flooding back.

Since my daughter keeps sending me CDs of old slides from my childhood and young adulthood, my head is spinning with memories.  Add to that that I have John right here to add his impressions and memories of the kids we knew in common and the teachers and classes we shared.  For those of you who are new to this blog, John and I have known each other since we were kids.  We dated off and on in high school.  We were always friends when we were kids, but did not see each other for decades and then reunited and married three years ago.

Also because of the 100 year celebration, an excellent e-mail loop has been maintained by Pam and Jon Kirkwood for BHS alumni.  As I read it, I am reminded of old classmates that I hadn't thought of for years.

Above is my before-my-date-picked-me-up prom photo.  Below is a graduation night photo of me and my then boyfriend, Bill on the left and our friend, Ricky on the right.

Please note the dyed to match pink satin heels and the precious tiara in my prom photo.  Who ever thought that was a fashion must?  And the wallpaper in my parents house.  Yikes!  

I don't know what Bill and Ricky ended up doing in their lives, but as I look at our smiling fresh faces looking out into the future, I wonder what we thought our lives would be.  Certainly I never thought I would travel to other countries or live in as many places as I did.  I never thought about owning a store or marrying twice or being a grandmother.  I never thought about being as old as I am now.  I never thought I would be writing this blog on a computer (!) and sharing my thoughts and photos with people I have never met from all over the world.  I always thought I was lucky, but I have been luckier than I ever imagined.  I always thought I would be happy, but I never realized what things or which people would generate that happiness.

I guess that is another thing about time.  It passes so quickly and we don't realize which moment may become an important memory.  

More Tulip Tales & More

In the comments yesterday, it was mentioned by Shirley that planted tulips become less hardy each year. Again, my information from living in the Netherlands agrees with this. The Dutch actually dig the bulbs up after the foliage has died and then they are stored to be planted in the Fall again. The Dutch like the tulips best when they are full blown and to make them last longer, they put a pinhole in the stalk next to the flower head. There are even special tulip vases in Holland. Traditional vases have many openings for one tulip stalk each. The modern vases are slanted so that all the blooms lean lazily to one side. Both are very attractive.

Also in the comments, Rachel mentioned visiting Keukenhof Gardens in Holland. The gardens have been open since the late 40s but only for about 6 weeks in the Spring. It is planted each year by various landscapers who vie for the privilege. About a million people visit annually to see the fabulous natural displays (see above) of spring blooms. One can spend an entire day there just strolling the grounds.

in the comments Joy wondered if the deer were eating her tulips. After we returned to live in Connecticut after our stay in Holland, we planted thousands of tulips only to have them eaten by the deer just as they bloomed. Rather than offer up another deer buffet, we opted to plant daffodils and narcissus. King Alfred is the common daffodil, but there are hundreds of other types. I really got into them while in Connecticut. My favorite was an apricot colored frilly flower. I have never seen them again.

I think my webgirl will have our new products online tonight. They include new Gaffer Tape, new Shrine Kit that fits an ATc or whatever else you want, new 3 compartment cubbyhole kit and new stand-up numbers.

We got dirty over here. We bought 7 huge flats of impatiens, several peonies, lupines, lilies, dahlias and enough flowers to fill two railing planters, one hanging plant and some big pots. We started planting on Sunday, but the allergies got the best of me, so John has had to finish. Even in their infancy, the beds look wonderful. When they fill in, I will bore you with photos.

Okay. Question of the day: Have you tried to be more "green" and how? I will start you out with my list of our greenness or lack of greenness.
1. We have replaced many light bulbs with the spiral type and have use reduced wattage in the ones we can't replace.
2. I take canvas bags to the market with me. If I have overflow or I forget them, we recycle the bags back at the store's recycle bin.
3. We recycle tins, bottles and plastic. Our town has a weekly pick-up.
4. We opt for no bag if given a choice.
5. We try very hard to use up the last of every thing to reduce throwing out spoiled food.
6. I try not to buy Made in China or other foreign product. It is difficult and sometimes disappointing. A few weeks ago, I needed to buy some new bath towels for the guest bathroom. I went to the local bedding store and bought the Made in the USA rather than the made in China. I brought them home and washed them. The two identical bath towels I bought turned out to be vastly different in size and the edges, after washing, had come unraveled. I am frustrated.

A Memory of Tulips

We lived in the Netherlands, Holland Province, in the late 80s. The little village of Wassenaar was just a suburb of the Hague and all the wonders that cosmopolitan city had to offer. But surrounding our village were tulip fields, real honest-to-goodness tulip fields. In the spring we watched the fields as the bits of green pushed up through the furrows and began to grow taller and taller. Soon we could see the bulbs begin to form on the stalks as we drove by. We were getting more excited each day about seeing our first bulb fields up close. Then one day there they were...row upon row of bright red tulips bobbing their beautiful little heads in the breeze. I hurried home, gathered my daughter and off we drove with cameras in hand ready to record this awesome sight. As we approached the fields I couldn't believe my eyes. The red tulip heads were laying in a huge pile next to the road. In the distance we could see large machinery cutting the heads off of each and every tulip plant. Close by us were workers with huge baskets, loading the heads of the flowers and tossing them into the backs of trucks. It was surreal. The stems were short, maybe two inches, so the cut flowers were not intended for florists. Finally one of the men came over and explained that these fields were for bulb production. If the flowers are left on the stalks, they will drain the strength of the bulbs. the flower heads are left on the plant after opening just for a few days and then are cut. Tulips for florists are generally grown in greenhouses.
The short stemmed tulips showed up a few days later in roadside stands as "slingers", (a garland of flowers) to be added to the front bumper of one's car or truck. I loved seeing so many cars festooned with this Dutch debris, as we called it in our house. The Dutch never waste anything! They looked like big Hawaiian leis.
The Dutch export several billion flower bulbs a year and over 10 billion cut flowers a year all over the globe. From the time they are cut in Holland to showing up in a US florist shop can be as few as 48 hours! This is accomplished through the Dutch flower auctions. I visited the Aalsmeer flower auction outside of Amsterdam. It was truly amazing. Be sure to visit the auction no matter what season you there. The public is welcome.
As much as I love tulips, I have had such negative experience with them trying to enjoy them before the deer eat them. I know we have deer at our house, so I will not be planting them here, but they are in bloom around town and I am so enjoying everyone else's floral displays.

Book Me

Here is another little book I made at a class, this time with Carolyn Waite. Carolyn is such an organized instructor and great fun. I am so missing workshops. I keep looking for some here, but to no avail. I am tempted to organize them myself. I even found a place right on the lake that is large enough for maybe a class of 25-30 students, but if I organize it, I can't sit through the entire class myself. While I was in CA, I took quite a few workshops and really, really liked being a student. If any of you out there in blogland know of Cleveland area workshops, please oh please let me know.

John and I have been on a quest to find a good Mexican restaurant for us to call home. We have made the huge sacrifice to try every one we can find within an easy driving distance. First we judge them on ambiance. Of course most Mex restaurants have little ambiance. Then comes the service and the food and for John, the margaritas. We like to try the fajitas. If there is no sizzle, then there is no return visit. Ohio is not known for it's great Mexican restaurants, but we forge ahead. We think we found one called Fiesta Jalapena. The first vist was great, but we will force ourselves to return a few times to make sure.

Once a few years ago, we were in a wonderful Mexican restaurant that had the absolute best salsa. It was fresh and spicy and oh so tasty. After thinking about it for a few weeks, I decided that I would write and ask for the recipe. I really did not expect an answer, but then one day I received a letter from them with the recipe written out for me and a warm thank you for my compliments. I eagerly opened up the recipe, my mouth watering at the memory of their fine salsa. The recipe began "take 35lbs of fresh tomatoes...".
Okay so the second best salsa is actually really easy. Start with Lawry's Salsa mix (if your store doesn't carry it, check Amazon in their grocery section) and add fresh chunks of tomato and a wee bit of fresh cilantro. Mix as directed and chill. Don't let it sit overnight, it gets mushy. It is really good and fresh tasting for a quick salsa. Great over grilled salmon, too.

Several of you have asked to see the inside pages of our Ephemera Playbooks. They are all similar inside.
Here are a few photos:

The books are reconstructed with more than 50 pieces of antique. vintage and really old book pages including music, ledger, foreign, poem and school book pages. They are really cool. Take the books apart and use the pages in your art projects or maybe use as a journal, adding and altering what is there already. They are $25 each.

A Gentle Man

Saturday I got a letter from my dear Dutch friend, Anne. Her beloved husband Peter had died.
Years ago, when I lived in Holland, Anne was my (then) husband's secretary. I knew Anne during that time, but it wasn't until we moved back to CT and the vivacious Anne and her sweet husband, Peter, came to visit that we really bonded. They stayed for several weeks and we became great friends, the three of us. We laughed, told our stories and laughed more. We pronounced each other our Dutch sibling. I speak English and a smattering of phrases from other languages, but Peter and Anne were fluent in several languages. One of us would get stuck on a word and out would come the Dutch dictionary, then the Italian, then the German. We wanted to be sure we would remember the word, so we would use it as much as possible. By the end of their stay, our sentences would be an interesting mix of several languages understandable only to the three of us.
Peter who was at least 25 years older than both Anne and I, was very handsome, quiet and gentle with a sweet smile and had to be coaxed to tell us his stories. Here is how he told me his life story...

During WWII, when the Germans entered Holland, Peter was a teenager. One day, on his way home from school, the Germans plucked him off of a street in Amsterdam and sent him to a work camp in Alsace. There he lived for several years with a French family, sleeping in an outbuilding at night and working all his waking hours for the Germans doing hard labor. Peter, a Christian, had little food, inadequate clothing and no contact with his family. He said he could not complain because the Jews had much less than he did.
Near the end of the war, the Americans liberated the work camp and Peter was free to return home. Peter had no way to get home and feared that he would not make it in the frail condition he was in. He offered his services as a translator to the American army. When they discovered that he was proficient in several languages, they took him on. He stayed with the Army for quite awhile and eventually they sent him to Paris to work at the Army headquarters there. He was part of an office that published a pamphlet for the GIs who were on leave in the City. The pamphlet outlined where they could and could not go and where to eat, etc. This was good training for Peter. He later went to work for the Michelin Guides as a restaurant critic. Many years later, he met Anne in one of the Michelin offices where they both worked.
I loved hearing Peter's stories of his anonymous visits to the restaurants and how he would rate them. Michelin's rating guide is "very good", "worth a detour" and the highest "worth the journey".
Over the years, I visited Peter and Anne at their home in the Netherlands several times and they visited me in CT as often. Anne is a wonderful letter writer combining stories of their days, always something educational, something sweet and usually a photograph. The letter always had interesting postage stamps chosen carefully just for me. It has always been easy to stay in touch with them.
Whenever we were together, we would naturally eat out at least a few times. I would encourage Peter to verbally rate the eateries, much to Anne's chagrin. He would point out things I never would have noticed, but soon realized how even the smallest little thing can have a big effect on the whole dining experience. Of course that is true of everything in life.
The thing I remember best of Peter is how much he loved Anne. I always used to think to myself, that he would be lost without her. But now it is Anne who is alone with her memories of the wonderful life together she and Peter shared. Anne says that marriage to Peter was "worth the journey"

Names

When I was growing up, I was the youngest and the only girl. My brothers' favorite sport was to see who could make me cry first at the dinner table. They were good at it. They were also very good brothers, always letting me tag along and playing games with me. They are still great brothers and I'll bet if they tried, they could still make me cry at the dinner table. We had an unusual last name (Gfeller) and I still have yet to meet anyone else with that name. It is the kind of name that when I had a teacher that my brothers had, the teacher would know we were related. That was sometimes good and sometimes not. It is the kind of name that makes my brothers use their first names when making reservations. When I used to travel all over the world, I would always look up Gfeller in the phone book. The only place I ever saw even one Gfeller was in Lucerne Switzerland and there was a whole page of Gfellers.
The other day I was checking out the Moleskine website to see what was new. I love the Moleskin journals and pocket notebooks and use them all the time. They were mentioning a company that makes soft leather covers for the Moleskins. The name of the company? Gfeller Casemakers! Here are photos from their site for the Moleskin covers:

Then I was a Carter. Easy vanilla kind of name. Everyone knows how to pronounce it and spell it. Simple and short. Now I am a Smallenburg. This too requires spelling at least twice each time. It is the name of a small (of course) town in the Netherlands and there are a number of Smallenburgs there. My grandmother, the one who married a Gfeller, was of Dutch descent.

My other grandmother was Italian. I was named after both of them. Virginia after my Dutch gramma and Rose after my Italian grandmother.

In the late 80s, I lived in the Netherlands (Holland) where my daughter met her now husband and now I am married to a guy who is half Dutch and half Irish. Funny how things come full circle.

Our Story

Yesterday's comments from "Luft" requested a photo of the 17 year old ginny and John. Well, here you go! For those readers who are unfamiliar with our story, it is a good one. At least John and I think so. Here is the abbreviated version:
John's mom would drop him and his sister at Olive Recreation Center park behind my house when we were in elementary school. Little red-headed John would push me faster and faster on the merry-go-round. We attended different schools, so it wasn't often we were together, but we were childhood friends.
In junior high (back when it was still called junior high), we re-discovered each other. My family had moved closer to his family and now we attended the same school and hung out with the same kids. McCambridge Park was where I watched John and the other boys play baseball and John and the other boys watched me and the other girls in the park pool. We danced at the park dances and giggled and talked and held hands as we strolled the park grounds and the school corridors. Sometimes John was the one who held my hand. Along came high school and John and I dated off and on all through our teenage years. Sometimes we dated others, but we were always really good friends.
I didn't see John after graduation. We enrolled in college, John got drafted, I got married. John wrote me a note when he learned of my marriage. He said that he always thought we would end up together, but now I had married someone else. A few years later John got married. He eventually became a high school art teacher. I eventually opened the Creative Block (an alternative art store) and we both had families. John stayed in CA. I moved around: Connecticut, The Netherlands, London, Connecticut, Ohio. Sadly, both of us divorced after long marriages (25 & 28 years). Several years later John attended our high school reunion (supposedly looking for me). I didn't go, but we began e-mailing each other, then talking on the phone for hours since we lived 2388 miles apart. Then we began meeting for weekends which became long weekends, then weeks. John asked me to marry him and I said yes!
John said he always thought we would end up together. He is still my best friend. He still makes me laugh and he still holds my hand. We have been married two years now and it is as if we have never been apart.

Sunday Drive

Sunday: John and I decided to explore the Las Palmas Flea Market in Hollywood. Well, we drove around, but could not find it. We think maybe it has been disbanded. Anyone know? Hollywood Blvd was lively with street performers and large crowds of pedestrians. We drove up through Mulholland Canyon and were in awe of the view on one side of LA and the ocean and the the San Fernando Valley on the other side. Oh, and we were even more in awe of the houses hanging off the sides of the cliffs on stilts! This is the land of earthquakes and landslides. Beautiful, but scary.
It has been fun for me to explore the locations of my youth. Hollywood was the big date night destination. Back then, the newest released movies were shown in Hollywood before the general release into our neighborhood theaters. The two hot places to go were Grauman's Chinese Theater with the cement footprints of the stars and the Pantages across the street with the balcony loveseats for two. Often I went with the 17 year old John. We would dress up to go there, the girls in heels and our best matching sweater and skirt sets. Afterwards we would go to Micele's on Las Palmas for the best pizza or down the street to c.c. Brown's for the best hot fudge sundaes. One Saturday night, much to our excitement, Johnny Mathis was in the booth next to us at c.c. Browns. John remembers saving up his money for weeks to afford the price of the "Hollywood" date. I remember seeing West Side Story for three Saturday Nights in a row, each time with a different guy, not wanting to tell them I had already seen it. "Remembering when" is a favorite game of ours. John and I continue to marvel at what is still around and what has changed completely.

California Nostalgia

Yesterday was my monthly haircut day. I always take the first appointment of the day and I always drive there on residential streets to avoid the traffic and to enjoy the drive. These streets are the neighborhoods of my youth. The old 1920s and 30s Spanish style villas with their graceful lines and red tile roofs signify home to me. This house (above) is on Mountain Road right before it turns into Sunset Canyon Road, the boundary between Burbank and Glendale. I have never lived in one of these houses, but this part of Burbank and Glendale has them in abundance. Until my marriage to John 2 years ago, I had been away from this area, this state, for 25 years. I had lived in Connecticut, Europe and then Ohio, returning just for weekends a few times a year. When John and I started dating, he took me on a "nostalgia" tour of our hometown. First we drove to the high school we attended ( we dated in high school) which had been so renovated, that I did not recognize it. Then we drove past where the drive-in movie theater had been (many a date there), but now it is a shopping center. Next stop on the tour was the park high up in the mountain overlooking the city where all the teenagers had parked (just to talk, I swear!) after dates, but it was now permanently fenced off. Last stop was Bob's Big Boy drive-in where we, as teenagers, cruised the circular parking lot to see and be seen. Bob's is still there, but it is no longer a drive-in except one night a month for classic car night. You could plop me down anywhere in the commercial areas of my old hometown and I would not recognize it. It has been built up, rebuilt and built out. Downtown is now called "Media City" and has a mall, an Ikea and is closed to traffic. It is an improvement, but unfamiliar. The only areas I recognize are the majestic Verdugo mountains surrounding the valley and the old, familiar residential areas. The mountains don't change and neither have these lovely, old neighborhoods with their huge trees and pretty, flowering gardens. I didn't appreciate them in my youth. They were just there, part of the stage on which I was learning to be me. I appreciate them now and I am surprised at how comfortable I feel being back home.