"We Need A Bigger Baffle"

That's what Durwood and I said to each other yesterday morning while watching the ballsiest of the &^%$# tree rats vault itself over the red baffle, hook a paw onto the peanut wreath, and leap to the ground with a peanut in its mouth.  There had been a MUCH bigger one at Stein's when I got the pretty little red one on Tuesday so I got ready to meet AT a little early and zoomed over there it see if it was still there.  It was (whew) and I made it mine.  After I got back home I went out, got the peanut wreath, and changed the baffle.  That thing is HUGE.  I'm not lying, it looks like the top of a 55 gallon drum--but it works.  See how it's kind of flapping?  That's because Mr. Ballsy Squirrel had just made three attempts to nab a nut and been denied three times.  I'm not doing the victory dance yet, I don't underestimate the craftiness of the tree rat population, but I'm hopeful.

AT and I had an adequate lunch at Fazoli's (seems more of an emergency "we don't want to cook" sort of place, except for the yummy breadsticks of which I could eat an embarrassing number at a sitting if unrestrained) and then went to the Botanical Garden to see all the pretties.  Photos weren't allowed of the embroidery or quilts or flower arrangements but I got permission to snap the wall of "challenge" art quilts.  That was very interesting; each quilter in the group got an envelope with a paint strip and a leaf in it and were challenged to make a 16" X 16" quilt using that leaf motif and only those colors.  I loved each and every one for the creativity and skill of the quilter.  I might be up for a challenge like that.  We found out from our knitting guild friend, LB, that the reason there were no photos allowed was so no one would use a photo to copy someone else's design.  I guess that makes sense, although it never occurred to me to steal someone's design, maybe use it as a springboard for my own ideas but not to copy it stitch for stitch.  I'm not sure why the ikebana people didn't allow photos, maybe they just didn't want to be left out.  I didn't even consider a photo of the "antiques study group" exhibit which seemed to be nothing more than a sales booth.  Not that I minded, I managed to drop a few bucks on 4 paper fans (I collect fans) and 2 pairs of embroidery scissors.  It was a fun afternoon.

This morning I got busy early and strung all the parts of my Beware the Idiots of March art challenge piece.  It's done and I love it.  It turned out just the way I imagined it would--and that rarely happens with me, so yay!  I still need to trim the ends of the strings tying all the parts onto the wire coil once the glue dries but it's essentially finished.  I'm calling it Icarus--with apologies to Matisse and Calder, and thanks to Emery Blagdon.  I think MH and DG are planning monthly art challenges; I might not play every month but I'll keep an open mind.

March 8--China, Sutra Box with Dragon.  Vivian found the red lacquer box under a table in the junk shop on Meadville's Main Street.  She had been poking around in the shadows for something interesting to put on the sofa table.  She'd looked in the antique shops downtown first and was now working her way through the thrift and junk shops in the area.  She thought the owners of this one had to have a sense of humor because it was called "The Junque Shop" painted in big gold letters on the windows.  The bell over the door had barely stopped jangling before a man's voice boomed from somewhere in the back.  "How do, girlie, I'm Ralph, look around and holler if you get lost or trapped."  Yes, she thought, definitely a sense of humor.  She had been poking around for about fifteen minutes when she spotted the corner of the box lit by an errant sunbeam.  It was about fourteen inches long, eight inches deep, and about the same high, just the size she was looking for.  She pulled it out into the light and was delighted to see a dragon painted in gold on the front.  The price tag read "$45"-- sold.

Okay.  It's 10:30.  I think I need to make some toast or something; I'm kinda starving.  Later, dudes and dudettes.
--Barbara