Reflecting on Reflections....

My friend Georgia (Reflections Jewelry artist)will be having an art showing at a local venue in a few weeks and I wanted to let everyone know so that I'm not the only one drooling over her crafts--though every time I visit her little Amish cabin studio, that is exactly what I do!

River Arts Inc. presents a performing arts series and offers gallery exhibits at the River Arts Center in Sauk Prairie, Wisconsin.

November 9, 2011 - December 7, 2011 "Deep Currents" by Georgia Weithe

Opening Reception: Wednesday, November 9, 2011 5:00pm - 7:00pm

                                                        

"Deep Currents" - Combining the qualities of inner light with the play of light bouncing off metal, she transforms gold, silver, pewter, gems, stones, shells, pearls, beads and insect wings into soft, delicate shapes which evoke some of nature’s gentlest images: waves, wings, seeds, moonbeams. The materials are hammered, cast, fabricated and formed, and often the “spirit” of the work is reflected in its name…Unfolding, Flowering, Inner Light, New Beginnings.

As The Song Goes....

"If you can't be with the one you love, honey.....

..."love the one you're with:"



Wulf, the Garden Gnome

Wulf still won't stay out of Grandma Debbie's planters she made for us.

Blended Pizza

I never considered myself one of those kids from a "broken home," or a poor, unfortunate kid with divorced parents. That event never defined me--not in the least. What I do remember very acutely was how well my parents did and continue to handle their ongoing relationship with each other. Now, of course, they only have to see each other if there's a major event in my life which they both feel compelled to be a part of. For the most part they just hear about each other in passing, from me.

They were never the type of people to completely bad-mouth the other one; definitely not in front of the kids. This helped my brother and I greatly, I'm sure.

Why in the world would we go down memory lane today? I just returned from Farmer Ron's house with Mr. H to get firewood and have Sunday dinner. While Mr. H was keeping tabs on the Packer game for us with Grandma Esther and Dawn, my stepmom, Farmer Ron and I were in the kitchen making goat milk mozzarella cheese. The milk was from the goats in the pasture, by the way.

When I got home from our Sunday outing I went to the fridge where I had a bag of pizza dough defrosting for a couple of days, not knowing I would score fresh mozzarella in a few days! The pizza dough was left over from Grandma Debbie's stay; mom had made her award-winning pizza while she was here and left some dough for us to make more when the mood struck us.

I constructed a pizza using ingredients from all parents--hence the name "Blended Pizza." Mom's pizza dough, dad's mozzarella, and to make this an official blended family blended pizza, I threw some herbed chevre that Dawn made, on a part of the pizza for a little unconventional kick.

Long story short, it's a special pizza made with lots of love, with help from all of my parents whether they know it or not.

P.S. Incidentally, thirty years and three months ago (January 1981--someone check my math), Farmer Ron and I stood in the kitchen making cheese just like we did today...except that time the recipe called for currants, and this time I didn't need a stool to reach the stove.

Gunnar's Day Out

Yesterday G-man went to the vet for his yearly checkup and a shot in the butt. The vet is smitten with the white Husky and I think they would have played for hours if other clients weren't in the waiting room. Gunnar has great hips for a large dog, says the vet, and looks great. I used the term "perfect specimen," but that's of course what I tell everyone that the doctor actually said. That's how mothers are.

Dog is indeed our co-pilot

Mr. H and I took Gunnar to the Saturday morning farmers market in Spring Green to see how he would act in public. Gunnar hasn't had a lot of opportunities like that. He is our farm dog and gets out plenty at home but we live on a dead end road, so he doesn't get a lot of socialization except what our immediate neighbors provide...and they are great with Gunnar. There were so many new sights and smells and people: Gunnar loved it all. He's a bit exuberant though so we have to keep him from hugging kids; he's a bit big for that, but unlike the Chihuahuas, he won't actually eat the children.

Of Deepest Concern

I couldn't have been any more shocked than when Mr. H called me into his office (yes, I felt like I was in elementary school) this afternoon and said, "Are you sure you want to post the photo of yourself that you did in Friday's blog entry?" (The post pic of me with the after effects of "hot pepper face"). I thought he was kidding but he explained that I look nothing like that photo, and apparently he didn't think it was very flattering. (I must really be making quite a face in that one: all I know is that is exactly what I looked like after I bit into the pepper!)

This is very strange coming from him, but especially because of how discerning I am about just how scary I might look in a pic that goes public. So, to ease his concerns --and maybe yours--here is how I look without my face screwed up:

Just the same. Hee hee

Considering the state of the world today, this is such a minor thing to be clarifying, isn't it? (I'm well aware of that; I'm sort of making fun of myself AND Mr. H. Sorry, honey).



The Last Of The Garden

With temperatures down to 30 degrees at night, I think I will have to officially call the time of death on the garden: September 17. The squash are hanging on, but barely producing.

One of Mr. H's canteloupe. Something keeps eating them outside, so we
haven't gotten a chance to try one. I'm going to see if this green one will ripen in the house

 A white (yellow) watermelon. It tasted great, but I'm not sure it was supposed to be this small: although if you've seen the size of the dogs in the house....it was bound to spread to the garden. Mixed genetics, I suppose.

Mr. H wishes he could grow Coca Cola in the garden.