My older sister, Pat, always seemed to be a little put out that she had to share her parents with younger siblings. She is 8 years older than me, and didn't play with me or my other 2 sisters. But I remember the time she started making up stories for the long road trip to northern Michigan every summer, to camp at Pentoga Park. She named her protagonist Mr. Blue Blob. She told us she had gotten the stories from a book by the same name. We were absolutely mesmerized by the adventures of this blue worm (or maybe he was a caterpillar). I imagined him wearing a hat. I don't recall just exactly what the adventures were, but the stories always held our interest, and we always begged for more. It wasn't until I was older, that I realized she was making up the stories as she went along. She should have been a writer.
Then there was the time, when I was about 10 years old and my father was in the hospital recovering from one of his heart attacks, that she taught me how to play canasta. We played for hours on end; I don't remember who won or lost those games, but it didn't matter. It helped to fill the void, left temporarily by my father's absence.
She's in the hospital now, in Reno, Nevada, dying of heart disease.
Friday, March 30, 2012
Early this morning, after the thunderstorm started, I dreamt that I was out in the backyard in the middle of the night. Much to my surprise, my granddaughter was there with her brother, Everett. "What are you doing up so late? You should be in bed, asleep." Then I looked around and didn't see their younger brother Julian. "Where's Julian?" I asked. "He went up in the rocket ship" Ahnna exclaimed. So I looked up in the sky above the house, and sure enough, a rocket ship had taken off and was probably 500 feet off the ground by then. Well, when Julian gets back, I thought to myself, we'll definitely have to teach him not to get into strange rocket ships.
Thursday, March 29, 2012
I want to thank my mother and grandmother for teaching me the basics of crewel embroidery when I was a child. Some of those stitches are coming in handy for art journaling! My daughter still has the crude gingerbread boy Christmas ornament I stitched when I was about 8 years old. Even though his mouth and eyes are crooked, and he doesn't have very much stuffing, my mother saved him for me. I think the grandkids really like him, and sometime this year, I'd like to have each of them make their own stuffed gingerbread boy ornament, with a little instruction on crewel embroidery.
Friday, February 17, 2012
Now I'm obsessed with decorating my journal pages, and have been spending quite a bit of spare time working on them. They're so much fun to work on, and the possibilities are endless. If any of them turn out to look like anything more than dorky, I will take some photos and post them. For now, I'm still learning some of the different techniques, and really like the look of old, faded, worn pages. However, I really haven't gone much in that direction.....yet.http://www.marcia-hero.artistwebsites.com/