Mr. Sparkles

   I always say that you never know what you will find in the Little Bayou House.  It is filled with oddities that have come to call the place home by pure happenstance most of the time.  Then, there are the living things that somehow find their way in for a visit.  Critters that live around the Bayou are not overly picky about their living quarters so any nook or cranny will suffice.  This does not usually cause too much concern as I simply put the critters back outside where they belong with a stern warning not to return.  We have had birds, raccoons, possums, squirrels, snakes, frogs, lizards and every possible (or so I thought) insect creepy-crawling or slithering about the house at some point.  Hmmm...we even had a baby otter visit but that was not by his choice.  Back when the kids were growing up, they found critters, brought them home and called them pets.  These wild "pets" were allowed a short stay before they were returned to where they were found.  I assumed this was a learning experience since my siblings and I did the same.  I guess a house is a home to a lot more than just the human family that resides there.

  This morning, I was sweeping the dust bunnies out of the living room when I noticed a "sparkly" on the floor.  Assuming this was some random bead left over from my granddaughter's stay a few weeks ago, I reached down and picked up said sparkly.  Hmmm...beads do not wiggle.  Yep, it was a bug.  Another critter had found its way inside the house.  "Sparkles" (its name now) was unlike any critter that I had seen before.  It literally seemed like it was covered with glitter. Most of the time, it gleamed bright green but occasionally certain spots seemed gold.  Time for a few photographs before "Sparkles" headed back outside. 

  After a little research, I have about decided this is none other than a Metallic Woodboring Beetle.  There are numerous types but, thankfully, this is not a "bad" beetle.  Yes, it does gnaw on wood but only on dead or dying trees (which there are many here due to termites.  Yep, termites have infested the live trees.)  Anyway, what I found most interesting about Sparkles is that it is really not all those colors.  Its exoskeleton has divots on the surface and those only reflect certain colors.  Mr. Sparkles obviously loves green!...and maybe gold!  Actually, the whole critter is iridescent but the little divots reflect the most light...sort of like an inverse disco ball!  

  The beetle was so pretty that I had to carry it all the way down to the canebrake where Son was pulling out the dead canes.  While showing him our glittery friend, he suggested that it may have come in with an armload of firewood.  Ahh, probably right!  My first thought was to return Mr. Sparkles to the outdoor wood rack but then I had the horrible thought that he may not make it through the next cold spell.  It was pure luck that he crawled out of the firewood in time with his first adventure indoors.  He may not be so lucky next time!  So...I made the decision to let the critter loose on the old oak stump.  There, he could find lots of old wood to munch and some pretty snug places to overwinter if the weather turns cold.  Now...I can mark Metallic Woodboring Beetle off the list of Little Bayou House guests!  Like I said, you never know just what you might find here.

 

Red and Purple?

   Back eons ago when I was a kid, I was often told not to wear red and purple clothing together.  Wearing a red skirt with a purple blouse was a huge no-no.  For a while, I assumed that Mom just did not like the pairing but then had several aunts and my grandmother tell me the same.  "Do not wear those two colors together!  Go change!" It saddened me as I thought the colors were magnificent together!  Others, however, were not as enthusiastic as I was so, I changed my attire and wore something bland...colorless.  I actually felt as if I blended with the surroundings and was not seen at all.  Then, again, perhaps that was the idea.  Maybe I was not to be seen. I am not sure.  In my middle years, I sort  of kept "blending in", not only with my attire but with my decorating of the Little Bayou House.  I tried to please everyone else...but me.  Now?  Now I have reached old age and I just do not care what others think.  I wear what I want and  decorate how I please.  I have finally come to the conclusion that it is really no one else's concern.

 

  That said, I sit on my red velvet, Victorian settee staring at the west facing window.  Son had installed shelves across both the east and west windows so I could display a collection of colored glass.  Usually, there is a virtual rainbow of colors in each window but...since Fall is coming...I decided to redecorate.  My choice of colors for fall in the living room?  Well, red and purple, of course!  One really cannot always go with oranges, yellows and browns, now can you?  Besides the colorful window, there is a huge urn of purple and black roses interspersed with the most lifelike spiders and a purple crescent moon complete with a golden spider web and two bejeweled spiders!  The room is also dotted with black pumpkins, purple candles in antique candelabras and a brass birdcage with a crow that actually talks to you!  This is a weird take on Fall decorating but it suits me fine!  Other parts of the house are bedecked with the typical fall colors that can easily move into Halloween with just a few added touches.

  So...do red and purple go well together?  Perhaps only if you are a bit eccentric and have been tied down for far too long by the naysayers of this world.  In other words, if you like it...go for it.  Whatever that "it" is, if it makes you happy, then do it!  Don't wait like I did.  Don't let others make you have second thoughts.  Just do it and enjoy it!  Life is far too short.  And...I smile as I watch the sunbeams glow through the glass pieces with a radiance like none other.  

  

Is He Helping?

   Mr. Bat and I arise well before dawn.  He is usually the first to come out of dreamland and, then, he nudges me until I, too, am fully awake.  As a cat, his motive is food.  He wants breakfast!  My motive is to cede to his wishes and open a can of cat food then head to the kitchen to brew a pot of strong coffee. Since the sun does not rise at this hour, I try to find projects to fill the next two hours.  Things have to stay quiet as the menfolk here are still asleep.  Art projects are usually my go-to entertainment.  Bat?  He usually goes back to sleep leaving me to my own accord.  

  This morning, I had a whim to create something utilizing an old glass tabletop from a dilapidated outdoor set.  The idea was to do some reverse glass painting on the bottom then hang the piece in the window so it appeared to be a stained glass piece.  First on the agenda was to make a paper pattern which would make the art work far easier than free-handing it on the glass itself.  Drawing on paper is the way to go, folks!  Anyway...as usual...my work was started on the floor.  The tabletop was set, paper was fitted in the top and the artwork was to begin!  Mr. Bat had other ideas...

  As with any cat, curiosity got the best of him.  Then...as with any cat, he decided that the piece was there for his pure enjoyment.  My artwork came to a halt as the cat sat on the paper then decided a nap was in order.  Well, so much for getting anything accomplished this morning!  Everyone knows that you NEVER disturb a cat that has chosen a special napping spot. Oh, if I was not so fond of this little buddy, I would get so much more done!  Then, again, maybe he thought he was helping.

Missing Aunt Helen....

   Somewhere down the line, Aunt Helen must have really made a great impression on me.  She had the ability to see beauty in even the most mundane of things, lived her life with a great deal of imagination and simply being authentic all the while being spontaneous and a bit quirky.  If something appealed to her, it was worked into her life without worry that others would sneer at her.  She wore flowers in her hair, used herbs and decorated her place with color, gardens and things from the past.  She pretty much "invented" that "Cottagecore" lifestyle about a half century before it even was given a name.   To say Aunt Helen left an indelible mark on my life is an understatement.  This is coming more apparent as I age and give up trying to meet the approval of others.  

  The Little Bayou House has slowly undergone a change from meeting the needs of my kids entertaining their friends to being all out eccentric.  If something appeals to me, it is added to the decor.  Granted everything has to be functional but a bit of quirkiness is the drawing card.  Folks realize this and often gift oddities to me.  "This was great aunt's teacup.  I hate to just throw it away but it does not fit with my place." or "Grandpa had this for years but I have no idea what it is."  Yep, Great Aunt's teacup and Grandpa's plumb bob have found a home.

  All of this influence came flooding over me recently as I sat in my great-grandmother's rocking chair just reminiscing over times past.  Things spilled from the cobwebbed corners of my brain where they have been stored just waiting for the opportune moment to bring a smile.  Thoughts of Aunt Helen soon took over and the heart filled to the brim with the special moments that I was able to spend with her.  These visits were far and few in between since she did not live nearby and was often halfway around the world but our connection remained even into adulthood.  I miss her greatly.

The Velvet Throne And The Very Ill Prince

   The Little Bayou House holds a wide variety of "treasures".  By anybody else's standards, these so-called treasures are mostly clutter.  By my standards...I do not care what others think...my house...my treasures.  That said, one has to have an understanding that these items should perhaps more properly be defined as oddities than treasures but it is all a matter of perspective.  I see them as treasures so that is how it is.  In the living room, there is a very old settee and rocker set.  The set is covered in red velvet which definitely not what one would think to find in a place like the Little Bayou House but I have it simply because it reminds me so much of my great-grandparents' house.  That set started the eclectic, eccentric theme for the whole room..."Anything Goes".  

  Mr. Bat, the Bayou Prince has recently been very ill.  The cat gave us quite the scare when he showed up one evening intensely lethargic and feverish.  A trip to the veterinary clinic found him with a viral infection and extremely dehydrated.  After a complete checkup, two shots and an IV, he was sent home.  The poor cat was miserable.  He slept...and slept...and slept.  For days there was nothing but sleeping...no eating, drinking, bodily functions nor movement.  Son and I tried to keep him hydrated with syringes of water but there was not much else we could do.  Days went by with no change.  We would be elated when he would sluggishly move from one sleeping spot to another. It has been heart-wrenching to see him in this state.  Thankfully, after a full week, he seems to be on the mend...I hope.  At least, he is a bit more mobile and is making attempts to eat and drink.  

   It was during that illness that the Bayou Prince found his throne.  Yep, the red velvet settee became a favorite sleeping spot.  It was either there or on a dining room chair.  Occasionally, he would rouse enough to change locations with the throne being his favorite in the late afternoon when the sun streamed through the west windows and warmed the settee.  He would stay curled up there until late evening and then move back to the chair for the night.  While some would argue that an ill animal should not be "on the furniture", I feel it is his house, too.  The Little Bayou House is his castle, hence, the settee can be his throne.  After all, if he is going to be a prince, Bat deserves a throne!  Get well, little one. You are using up those "nine lives" way too fast.  You have been through enough in your short life from being discarded like trash by your previous owner to being bitten by a cottonmouth and now this debilitating illness.  You can stay on your red velvet throne as long as necessary.

Quirkiness in full swing!

   To be honest, it has taken more days than I wanted to take down the Christmas decorations even though not nearly as many were in place as in years past.  The holidays came and went with little fanfare other than the delightful visit of my oldest son, daughter-in-law and grandkids.  If I could have had them here without all of the hullabaloo, things would have been far more perfect.  Still, I did what was expected and, albeit, minimal, the place was decorated.  Then...the virus struck (or was brought to us) and I endured 8 days of fever.  I had no other symptoms...Son (younger) was not so lucky.  He ran the full gamut of symptoms so taking down decorations was solely up to me.  

  It was while I was on a ladder removing garland that a thought occurred.  I was musing how happy it was to bring the Little Bayou House back to its mysterious, magical place when the mind began to wander to those who have stark, vacant homes.  I could not live that way.  White walls, few (if any) decor pieces, and always matching furniture has to be boring.  To my way of thinking, it would remind me of living in an institution where all points of interest have been removed.  There is nothing to stir the mind.  My mismatched conglomeration of oddities evokes curiosity.  In turn, curiosity evokes creativity and creativity brings productivity.  If you cannot lead a productive life then what is it worth? 

  Granted, each of us have our own ideas of how things should be and none of us are wrong.  The only "wrong" thing is when others try to force their ideas down your throat by either bombarding you with unwanted advice or by trying intimidation to achieve their goal.  Thank you very much but...no, thank you.  The Little Bayou House shall remain a "house of curiosities" where the weird and wonderful things come to reside and be appreciated.  In fact, I have often been dubbed as the "Keeper of Weird and Wonderful Things" and I happily accept that title.  If that bothers others...so be it.  You keep being you and I shall keep being me...quirky, curious, creative and productive...all of those things that go hand in hand.  I refuse to live a bland, stark life to please anyone!

Ten Things Learned From A Purple Chair

   It is no secret that the Little Bayou House is quirky which means...I am quirky.  I have been called everything from weird to eccentric and I have to admit, they all fit.  But...that is me and I need no one else's approval.  At this fine age, I am fully allowed to just be me.  

  The other morning it dawned on me that the two thrifted glider rockers that sit among the other odd pieces of furniture were in dire need of some help.  Both were decked out in the lovely off-white fabric that was so popular when the chairs were originally sold.  The chairs were grimy looking and just not the right "era" for my mindset.  In their favor, they were super comfortable so something had to be done to salvage them if possible.  Out came the only fabric that I had on hand and some tools.  I recovered both chairs turning the once lightly padded rockers into upholstered rockers.  I could not be happier with the results.  The workmanship with arthritic hands may not be the best but the chairs "fit" now.  Son dubbed me as the "Glider Rocker Purplizer" for my efforts since the only fabric I had on hand was a lovely shade of purple!.  (Could be worse, I supposed.)  I did learn a number of things with the onset of the task.

1.  Never let fear of failure impede your dreams.  You can always began anew.  If fear was a logical emotion we would never learn to walk, talk or anything else as a child.  Fear is only there to  stir the adrenalin and make us strive harder.

2.  Do not procrastinate!  If you want something done...just do it.  Do not wait for others because it will most likely never happen. Just do it.

3.  Purple is a lovely color for anything.  It evokes a  sense of calmness yet a sense of the mysterious.  It also "goes" with just about anything given the circumstances.  

4.  Let your inner weirdness free and do whatever makes you happy.  One friend said she had purple porch furniture but had to change it because her husband did not like it.  Why?  I figure if I am the one doing the work, I should be able to do whatever it is I wish.  (Just a note here, Mark loves the chairs!)

5.  Glue guns are friends.  Staple guns are not.  At least in my case, the first was much easier and held things in place until the fabric could be permanently secured.  The staple gun wreaked havoc on the poor hand and the staples did not hold.

6.  At the same time, glue guns can be EVIL!  Aside from the obvious burnt fingers, I will be pulling glue strings for the next ten years.  Everything from the chairs to my hair have a gossamer webbing.

7.  Don't let your brain convince you that some projects can be done in a "couple of hours".  At least, plan on a few days.

8.  Take breaks from any task to rejuvenate that first enthusiasm.  The project will go much smoother.

9.  Have the patience of a saint.  You will need it.

10. Once complete, pat yourself on the back and tell yourself "Job well done." Then...sit back and enjoy the fruits of your labor.  Remember...YOU did this.  YOU set a goal and achieved it.  

  While purple rockers are not everybody's choice of furniture pieces, they are mine.  Before setting to the reupholstering, I checked around to see if new chairs could be reasonably purchased.  Nope.  I refuse to pay up to $250 for single chair. (Yep, purple chairs highly similar to these are expensive!) Since my chairs were both thrifted ($15 and $20) and the fabric was free, the major cost was glue sticks, time and patience.  For less than $50 I now have two chairs that bring a smile to my face and a sense of satisfaction to the soul.  They fit the Little Bayou House and me perfectly...all of us are a tad unconventional.  

Pine Wood Floors

   There are several different types of wood floors in the Little Bayou House.  The kitchen has pecan wood, the dining room has cedar and the bedrooms have pine.  Why so many different types?  We used what we could get after several hurricanes ruined the existing floors.  Supplies are hard to come by after storms so you take what is available and do not complain.  I do not mind as I am just happy that the house withstood some of the worst hurricanes on record.  We were blessed to still have a home after Hurricane Katrina and after each storm since. 

  Today, however, the pine wood floors are not indoors!  As I was out tending the Small Gardens, a steady "plipping" sound could be heard.  It almost sound like raindrops but, with nary a cloud in the sky, that was impossible.  The sounds were coming from one of the pathways through the west gardens.  I made my way through the wandering maze of paths to the exact spot!  A lot had changed since I worked this area two days ago!  

  The plipping sound was caused by pine cone petals being dropped from the top of several trees alongside the garden path.  Squirrels were gnawing the cones and dropping the petals as they searched for the pine nuts hidden inside the cone.  Those petals had made a carpet covering every inch of the ground under the trees!  I now have "pine wood floors" in the west garden area!  

  The silly squirrels are not using their brains by eating the pine nuts now.  Those seeds would carry them over through a harsh winter if left on the trees.  There are plenty of fruits, berries and other seeds that will not be around during the winter months.  These critters just may regret their doings once food is a bit scarce but they did make the paths pretty!

A Table Lamp Is Born!

   In an earlier post, I mentioned the broken chandelier parts that my brother had given to me.  Whenever he finds anything a bit out of the ordinary, he immediately thinks of me and the Little Bayou House.  Yep, the house and I are both a bit eccentric and eclectic so broken chandeliers fit right in with our "style" or lack of it.  The house, being decorated by me, has no say in its contents so I feel free to be as whimsical, weird or aberrant as I wish to be.  It is funny because the two menfolk that live here (husband and son) have grown so accustomed to the oddities that they do not question anything...ANYTHING!  Then again, I am not sure they even notice.  Men are like that sometimes.  Just block it out if it does not seem normal...I am not normal.  I do not wish to be normal.  Normal is boring.

  Anyway, I took to tinkering with the chandelier parts once I had them totally cleaned.  Knowing that I really had no place to hang yet another odd lighting feature, it seemed only natural to make a table lamp.  Yeah, well, that meant putting top parts on the bottom and bottom parts on the top and then adding a few things from other projects or from the stash of "maybe useful things".  None of the actual light fixture was included in the gift so that had to be purchased.  I will take the time to say stringing wire through those skinny arms to where the fake candle was to sit, was no fun.  Literally, hours were spent trying to fish a wire through a metal arm that obviously had nooks and crannies along the interior.  That just about made me change my mind on this whole project.  Once the wires were in place and the whole thing wired into working order, the fun began.  I needed to find some sort of "cover" for the wired parts. Not wanting white "candles" (too easy to cut plastic pipe...I had to be difficult), I found that some solar light stakes (from the aforementioned stash) fit perfectly! So...metal stakes were cut to become some really funky "candles".  Then...shades! Those lights needed shades!  Again, I dug through the stash box and, again, some old solar lights seemed to be perfect for the job.  Well...sort of...maybe. This involved using a small rotary saw to cut of the bottom of the light shield so I could turn it upside down to be used as a shade.  The shades were made with a stained glass look so they added a bit of charm to the reconstructed lamp. 

  All that is left is to order some more crystals for the light (what proper chandelier turned table lamp would be barren of crystals?) and stain the wood base that was added to give the light some height.  Now, my broken chandelier can glow in all its newfound glory in the midst of dusty old books, antique clocks and some very nice Victorian furniture that I acquired by accident (or on purpose!).  I am beginning to think I was born in the wrong era...or perhaps the free spirit in me has finally truly decided to show its face.  I know it will not appeal to most others but "most others" can keep their opinions to themselves. Like I said earlier...normal is boring. Personally, I could not be happier! Glow on, revamped light. Cast your sparkles about the place like pixie dust.  You are magical.

The "Clothes Tree"

   For the past few months, I have been doing a sort of purge of the Little Bayou House.  No, I am not tossing everything to the wayside.  The place will still be filled to the brim with the oddities that interest, amuse or bewilder me.  Those things that spark an idea or those things that bring comfort will stay.  Great Grandmother's painting of a black sheep among white will hang next to the antique lithograph.  Mom's embroidered picture of deer will proudly be displayed next to my daughter's drawing of Edgar Allan Poe.  A possum skull will defiantly sit next to the framed catfish backbone and sea turtle shell (all found items).  Also, porcelain teacups, wooden horses, antique jewelry and even a steampunk plague doctor's mask will randomly remain interspersed.  Yep, the Little Bayou House is a "House of Curiosities" and I like it that way.  It matters not what others think since, if it bothers them, they do not have to come.  I do it for me...me alone.  I admit to being a bit eccentric and love the eclectic mess that defines my house. Still, that purge IS happening.  It is more an effort to return my kids' stuff to them.  They are all neatly settled in their impeccable homes so it is time.  It is time for their stuff to be their problem instead of "Mom, don't get rid of this!  I want it but do not want to clutter up our home."  Sorry...take it home or it is going out to the trash bin, being donated or being altered to become a clue hunt prop.  Take your choice.

  That said, one old steamer trunk held a surprise.  All of my daughter's old dance recital costumes were neatly folded inside.  They were amazingly well preserved after these nigh on 30 yrs of being stowed away.  Well, they can go home now!  I carefully hand-washed each piece and hung it to dry.  Since my clothesline has still not been replaced, each costume was hung on a hanger then among the pear tree branches!  Oh!  What a colorful addition to the garden!  (It is probably a good thing that I have no near neighbors to complain about my antics.)  Anyway, the costumes dried nicely and are now packed in a box to be sent home with Darling Daughter.  If...if she takes them.  It did occur to me while washing them that the sequin covered fabric would make excellent doll clothes for the many (MANY) naked dolls she also left behind! (Wonder whatever happened to their clothes?)  We shall see if that reuse will happen or if she decides to clutter her place with the costumes!

 What I found humorous about this whole thing is that I sent her a message that I had gotten a new clothes tree and it was beautiful.  I merely was trying to get her attention as my messages of "You need to come get this stuff." usually go without a response.  So...I did get a response to this message! "Great, Mom!  But what is a clothes tree?"  Oh, my!  Are clothes trees a thing of the past where no one even knows what they are any more?  Geez!  I am getting old!  After a bit of an explanation as to what a clothes tree is, I eased my way into the costume dilemma.  She was more interested in the clothes tree.  Ok..ok...so a clothes tree is basically a hat rack!  Mine is not!  I was speaking in jest there!  I sent a photograph of the brightly adorned pear tree.  "Ooohh, my costumes!  Those bring back memories!"  Yes!  You need to take your memories home!  "But they look nice on the pear tree!  It would be mite bland without the colors flapping in the breeze."  Something tells me Darling Daughter is evading the issue here. 

  I will definitely give this "gift-giving" thing one more try before cutting the costumes down to become doll-size or turning the CD storage box into a clue hunt puzzle. Each kid will be presented a huge box of stuff when they are all gathered at the Little Bayou House for Thanksgiving.  They can reminisce over their childhood and then either keep or toss. Those things that can be donated or reused will be reboxed.  Those things that are beyond hope will be carted to the roadside for pickup.  No excuses...no ifs, ands, or buts...no "Keep it for me so I do not clutter our house."  It is up to them, this time!  And I will definitely give them all a lesson in what a clothes tree is!  Geez!  

Do What Makes You Happy

    It is that time of year when normally the Little Bayou House is bedecked with all things spooky whether it is for the actual holiday or for the Clue Hunt on the Bayou.  This year...neither.  Nothing is adorned with pumpkins, owls, bats, skeletons, spiders....none of...well, except for those that are deemed as everyday decor.  There is nary a clue hunt prop in existence, either.  The whole month of October has been a bust as far as I am concerned.  Both the holiday and clue hunt did not happen purely because I did not feel the "whim".

  That does not mean the Little Bayou House has slid into the "cookie cutter" mold of what everybody else's house looks like.  Nope!  There are no clean, white walls, tidy shelves and clear tabletops.  That....will never happen.  That...is not me.  Sorry...not sorry.  I have to be me and "me" is a bit cluttered with wild and whimsical things.  That is what makes me happy and drives others mad.  (Perhaps I am already there!)  A few years back, one sweet niece made the comment that I am the most "bohemian" person she ever met.  Good!  Another person labeled me "The Keeper of Weird and Wonderful Things".  Again...good!  I am happy with both.

  That said...do what you feel is you and never give in to the whole "norm" thing.  While the clutter-free, stark and barren look is grand for some, the quaint and quirky works for others.  To each his own.  Me?  I shall keep my antique jewelry hanging on the light fixture, burnt umber walls and high Victorian furniture along with about two dozen pendulum clocks adding their cacophony of chimes to the mix.  Stay weird, folks....you do not have to conform to others' expectations.  Happy Halloween!

The "Bored" Alien

    Recently, it seems that there has been a renewed interest in extraterrestrials, spaceships and other worlds.  I am beginning to think this is a grasp at relief from the troubles of our world.   When times get hard, people reach for anything they can as a diversion and, well, things are in a troubling state right now.  I would even venture to say that our country is in the biggest mess it has seen in many decades and this trend does not appear to have an end coming anytime soon.  That said, aliens and their spaceships have taken hold of people's brains...or at least, their imaginations.  THEY are coming!  And that is said with a giggle.  Matter of fact, an alien did visit the Bayou recently.  More precisely, it visited the Little Bayou House.  At least, Son identified it as an alien.  I had other thoughts. 

 

  Son and I have been doing some major renovations on the Little Bayou House.  The place has been in a dire need of improvements for some time now so I figured it was best to get started before the house fell down around us.  I get these harebrained ideas and he brings them to fruition.  Before he left for work, Mark bought a bunch of lumber which was just begging to be used.  So...I used it...or Son and I used it.  At one point, he handed me a board that he had just cut and said there was a "bored alien".  That is what I heard...he actually said there was a "board alien".  Sure enough, there was a pair of eyes staring at me from the plank.  Hmmm...while he insisted it looked like an extraterrestrial, I begged to differ.  It looked to me like a heron giving me the "evil eye" because I did not catch its supper of little mullet.  Either way, there was something looking at us from that board!  Alien...heron...who knows.  Ahh, imaginations are grand things!

Distracted by a Shadow

   There are those who see everything just as it is.  I, on the other hand, have this warped way of viewing things that allows me to see things that are not really there.  I see...things.  Pareidolia is the ability to see shapes or figures in random things but, most of the time, refers to seeing faces.  I do that, too, but the imagination plays enough that I can envision "random things" in shapes...if that makes sense.  All things are viewed as they are not.

  With yet more carpentry work being done on the Little Bayou House, it has become my task to paint each piece of siding before it is installed.  This is because the work is being done on the dormer windows that sit high on a very steep roof.  Son has nixed my climbing around up there to paint so it is being done before installation.  Thankfully, he is doing that part.  It was while painting that I started seeing things!  The sunshine was bright so shadows were being cast on each piece of plywood that was being painted.  One such shadow struck me as being quite lovely.  In fact, it reminded me greatly of some exquisite orchid!  At first, I thought it was merely the sun filtering through the pear leaves but something seemed off.  I needed to find out what was making my shadow orchid!  When I did, I was astounded as the object looked nothing like my imaginary bloom.  Dangling from what used to be my clothesline frame was a short cable that had two clips.  This was used by Son when he was moving some huge timbers to the pier.  The cable was hung on the crossbeam and forgotten until the sun "brought it to light".

  It is fascinating how from nothingness comes beauty.  Light and darkness...shadows upon the blank wall...hauntingly beautiful...time forgotten.  The light may be noticed but shadows are far more intriguing.

Well...technically....

  Son has this way of getting a point across that does not humiliate but does "set the record straight".  I can be rambling on about something without doing a whole lot of thinking when I hear  "Well...technically..." and I know it is coming.  I am fixin' to be corrected even if it is only in jest.  Well...technically....

  Yesterday, he was ripping off one of our dormers of the upstairs.  The time had come to replace the siding but also check the inner structure to make sure no termite or hurricane damage has occurred to the Little Bayou House.  He was carefully balanced on our steep roof while I was inside the house.  I was his "assistant" as I would run downstairs to get things as needed.  While there, I was doing the usual inane chatter that I have a tendency to do when a goose flew over our heads.  Son probably could have reached up and caught the bird as it was that close. That got me thinking about our view of things vs what a bird sees.  Looking down all I could see was the tops of the citrus trees and the buckeye tree!  I mused "Wow! I have a bird's eye view of my gardens!"   And it came. 

  "Well, technically, Mom...."  Oh well,  I might as well get ready.  "What?  Technically what?"  He continued his statement.  "Well, technically, you have an elevated person's eye view of the gardens."  Huh?  The saying goes "bird's eye view"!  So he explained.  It seems as if birds see things totally different that what people see.  Birds can see "more" colors.  Son went on to explain how this is possible and how scientists know.  I listened intently...until I noticed that butterflies were flitting around the citrus blossoms.  Then my thoughts got lost as they wandered into the lepidopteran world and left the avian world.  Perhaps I see things from a butterfly's eye view!  Well...technically...who cares?  The trees looked mighty pretty from my perch in the window!

Curiosities? Needful Things? Junk?

   Finding long lost treasures is always exciting but, on the other hand, finding a tin of junk is often merely a bepuzzlement.  What do you do with the oddities that have been stuck aside for so long that they become treasures from a time past?  Are they still treasures?  Are they now junk?  Should those items be kept or coldheartedly thrown in the trash bin?  Oh, the conundrum of those of us who have been deemed to be hoarders.   I sort of "inherited" a bunch of "treasures" from the old farm place, although, many did not originate there.  Mom held onto many items that came from old houses in Biloxi.  Pop was always doing some home repair work as a side job and often folks would have him empty out spare rooms, garages or sheds.  He was to haul off what they discarded.  He did.  He brought it home.  Mom saved treasures!  I inherited said treasures.  These have been sitting in the Little Bayou House for some 30 yrs since.

  As the long needed repairs are still being done on the Little Bayou House, I have found such treasures.  The one in question of today is a tin that once held mints. The tin, itself, probably has some value to collectors.  It is labeled "Katharine Beecher" and, at one time, held butter mints...or "The original butter mints...since 1931".  I found it amusing that the tin held "4 strengths of mint...colors...white, pink, green and yellow".  Perhaps the color represented a strength.

  The cannister is only the vessel that holds a myriad of treasures.  It is filled with broken or odd pieces of jewelry, small household items and other unusual, unidentified items.  While the collective worth of the items is probably questionable...what is the value?  Yes, there is a big difference.  Worth pertains to the monetary cost of an item, whereas, the value is more of an emotional attachment or the usefulness of an item.  So..when looking at the cost...the combined worth of the tin and items is probably not much.  The value, as far as emotional attachment, is probably nil.  BUT!  That usefulness may trump all as I have a profound interest in creating art pieces with such oddities!  It is my idea that the pieces can be turned into something useful and, yet, retain the original beauty.  The pieces shall not be altered beyond recognition but shall be showcased for the craftmanship of the original artist.  These, and many of the other "treasures" held in the Little Bayou House, are soon to become pieces that celebrate the past. 

  Ahh, yes!  I am the "Keeper of Weird and Wonderful Things"!  The Little Bayou House is a "House of Curiosities and Otherwise Forgotten Things" where folks can wander off into a place that often mesmerizes and overloads the senses with wonderment.  Yes...those things have been mentioned by visitors and I am good with it.  I figure if I cannot (and do not want) have the cookie-cutter style and boringly bare house that others find so appealing, I may as well surround myself with the mysteriousness of the unusual.  I am not opposed to those who love that style but it is not for me!  Mint tins, old jewelry, loudly ticking clocks, musty, old books, unexplained implements and artisan pieces make me happy.  Dangle pendants from the lampshade!  Fill shelves with artifacts!  Display early photographs of family members (even if they are not family members but photos that have been around so long they have become "like" family).  Celebrate history by preservation.  Enjoy whatever it is that makes you smile....whatever "speaks" to you.  Why not be happy?  Why even try to please others? Be yourself and do whatever it is that makes you feel good.  Life is too short.  

Curiosity of the Hobgoblins!

   Although some folks would agree with "the weather went downhill quickly", I am one who loves a good rainy day.  The garden needed the water and I needed to stay out of the garden so it worked out well.  I was up before dawn trying to find what critter attacked the Little Bayou House last night.  Along about midnight, there came such a ruckus that I literally thought someone was breaking down the door.  Nope...had to be a critter or a very inept burglar.  Nothing showed evidence of the misdeed even though it sounded like something ripping the siding from the house or maybe the subfloor or even the roof.  I could not distinguish exactly where the loud noises were so the investigating had to wait for morning and I had to hope for the best.  

  After meandering around the house with a flashlight, I headed to the pier.  The weatherman called for rain so I felt perhaps that was the only time I would have to feel the breeze on my face.  The clouds were incredibly dark and very ominous.  Rain had fallen off and on during the night and, before I could get back up the hill, it started again.  Wow!  That was COLD!  

  As soon as it was light enough, I surveyed the house again and never found a single thing amiss.  Had Son not heard the ruckus, I would have thought perhaps I imagined it or had dreamt it.  Now, we sit back waiting to see (or hear) if our hobgoblin comes again.   I am curious.

Stuck at Midnight

   For the past two years, I have been sort of in a "self-isolation" due to the pandemic.  At the cardiologist's "strong" advice, I quarantined myself to the Little Bayou House, Small Gardens and the area surrounding the Bayou.  I keep telling myself it is for my own good.  I do not go anywhere that is not absolutely necessary (aka appointments with that same cardiologist).  And, to top it off, the place, itself, has been off-limits to any visitors...those vaccinated and those not.  (People still cannot get it through their heads that the vaccine does not keep them from spreading the virus.  For that matter, it does not keep them from getting it, either.)  What is surprising is just how quickly others forget you when you have been removed from society.  No calls, letters or even merry waves from anyone.  As long as you are able to do for others, everything is fine and dandy but, when that comes to a halt, the "caring" does, too.

  All of this came to light in my dull brain when I was setting the dozens of antique clocks due to the time change.  In the midst of all of the keywind clocks there sits one battery operated thing.  It does not work.  It is stuck at 12 o'clock.  The chimes do not work, the hands do not move...only that pendulum keeps swinging along at its steady pace.  I only keep the clock as a project piece as I intend to alter it come this winter when chores are not as abundant.  While setting the others, I noticed the hands of this one.  STUCK.  Stuck at midnight...the darkest hour.  Yep, that is just about the story of my life, at the moment....stuck at midnight when no one else is around....the darkest hour....when no one cares.  What do I do?  I carry on just like that pendulum.  I keep plodding along unnoticed (no chimes) with no purpose (no hands).  I am just a broken clock.  Life goes on....or, in my case, goes by.  Others go about their merry way and I am stuck at midnight.  Sad part is....had only everyone heeded the advice to quarantine themselves for two weeks at the very beginning, this would have never exploded into the situation of the past two years.  Try two years, folks.  Try two years.  And over and over again, I tell myself..."It is for my own good."  Yet, I struggle.  My current state is not pretty....not pretty, at all.

Check those pumpkins!

   Usually during this time of year, you can find pumpkins sitting just about everywhere in the Little Bayou House.  Yep, as seasonal decorations or foodstuffs, you cannot beat a pumpkin.  In fact, they are pretty good for you...not to mention quite tasty.  Like I said, you can normally find pumpkins in just about every nook and cranny...not just for Halloween but throughout the winter.  They are one of those fine things that can last for months just sitting in a cool, dry place....usually.

  Supposedly, there is somewhat of a shortage of pumpkins this year.  Whether this is true or just more media hype is yet to be seen.  Mark found plenty of pumpkins at the store so actually bought dozens!  He had two large (Jack-o-lantern style) ones and three bags of assorted pie pumpkins and the Jack-be-little sort.  I was elated to get them!  Thinking I had plenty of time to let them sit before processing them for food, the pumpkins were set in pretty baskets, on old crocks or simply on a mat on the floor.  In other words, I decorated for fall.   That "plenty of time" was a joke.  Within two days, the smaller pumpkins started rotting.  Ugh!  I began checking all of them every day and would process any that were showing signs of pumpkin rot.  I am now down to the final two pumpkins.  One was processed today and the other will most likely be done tomorrow.   Waste not, want not.

  Folks, if you are like me and actually use your pumpkins as food, you best keep a watchful eye on them.  It seems that this shortage may just have something to do with the rot.  I have a tendency to think the things were put in cold storage for a while before being put out in the stores.  Then, when they started to warm to natural temperatures, rot set in and they started to mold.  Trust me when I say that a rotted pumpkin is not a pretty sight (nor smell) no matter what fancy decorations you have around it. Keep check on your pumpkins, folks! 

I Am Missing The Halloween Spirit!

   Being isolated down here on the Bayou has good points and bad.  Good...I am getting a lot accomplished, I do not have to fret if my hair is a mess and I have a whole lot more time.  Bad...I miss interacting with people (some), the Clue Hunt on the Bayou had to be cancelled (yet, again) and I am sort of entering a "dark" phase where I have an intense need for things to be eerily moody and shadowy.  Cheerful, pastel colors, perky sunflower themed things and overly sweet knickknacks are almost irritating.  The tastes have taken a sharp turn toward deep, jewel-toned colors, an obsession with crows and Victorian decor complete with heavy furniture and poor lighting.  (The lighting thing is great except when trying to read or do art pieces but it does disguise those dust bunnies under the sofa!)  

  You would think with this trend going on in the Little Bayou House, it would be exciting for me to be decorating for Halloween.  I love Halloween and all of its trappings but, this year (like last), there will be no trick or treaters, no clue hunt teams or even family members to appreciate the decorations.  I actually pondered if I wanted to go through the trouble of pulling out the boxes of decorations.  I did...finally and I attempted to throw a few things around to make it appear a bit more festive.  

  The china cabinet now looks vastly different with its overload of oddities.  I figured if I could get everything into the cabinet, the dusting would be a lot less.  I spent the better part of the morning unloading the usual dishes and then started filling the cabinet with strange things that have been collected over the years.  Well, that was done!  According to Son, the china cabinet is the "new storage bin" for Halloween decorations.  

  The only other decorations to make the scene are in the entryway.  It begs for anything in the way of Halloween since it has been painted a color called Burnt Umber. (Very dark, very moody...oh, and the same color as the living room.)  Instead of the usual Jack-o-lanterns and other orange baubles, a theme of off white and black set the stage for the small room.  Nothing fancy.  Just a few things here and there and, wham!..it is time to call it a day.  The decorating for Halloween is complete.  I am done...so done.  Hopefully, Christmas will find me feeling the holidays a lot more.

It Is Me

  The rains from Hurricane Nicholas have reached the Bayou with a vengeance.  This is fine with me as I needed a break from outdoor chores and, at the same time, needed time to do some indoor ones.  The past few days have seen me painting all of the trim work in the dining room.  This includes painting the stair rails which, to be honest, is a task I deplore!  Painting those spindles is a pain.  I have no choice but to paint since they were painted before we installed them some forty years ago.  That is one of the bad parts about using reclaimed lumber.  You have to deal with paint, nail holes and all of the dents and dings of time.  Still, that is what makes the Little Bayou House comfy.  The quirkiness of the whole place brings a smile...at least, to me.

  The bad thing about all of this rain is our internet is spotty.  The lines are still down since Hurricane Zeta and do not appear to be something the cable company is keen on repairing.  So, we deal with it.  It is nice that our power lines have been repaired since that hurricane was almost a year ago. That thought crossed my mind as I turned on all of the odd lamps in the living room. The soft lights gave a certain coziness to the room and blocked out the darkness brought on by the thunderstorms.   By odd lamps, I mean just that.  Every lamp in the room is one that has some weird appeal to me.  There is the old Victorian, hand-painted glass lamp, a floor lamp from my uncle that now is draped with several masquerade masks and some feathers, a desk lamp that sports a beaded rose and an owl feather and yet another floor lamp that is a marriage of the base and lamp itself.  The base is an antique one from my grandparents that had somehow lost the light and the lamp is a hanging, beaded light from my daughter's room when she was a teenager.  Of course, that meant it had to be purple.  The stand is draped with an odd assortment of antique jewelry, a Christmas ornament and some cloisonne` bells.  It makes me happy so the quirkiness stays. 

  Recently, someone remarked that the oddities in the Little Bayou House made it inviting.  Well, maybe but not many folks venture down here.  The eccentricities go unnoticed and perhaps unappreciated by any but me.  Another person queried why I filled the place with things like this and my only thought was "Because it is me."  Like it or not, it is me.