The Dazzling Dirty Dish Fountain

After weeks of fiddling and fooling and deconstruction and digging deep and waiting for electric and cleaning out mud, finally, tah-da, the Magical Froggy Pond with it's Dazzling Dish Fountain is finished:

The very second I turned on the pump and the water cascaded over the stack of dishes and spilled into the pond just the way it is supposed to my heart swelled with pride and delight. "OhMyGosh, the image in my head is actually working before my eyes!" I LOVE that.

I have to mention that this is not entirely my own original idea. Miss Greenthumb Jean
has the cutest tea kettle fountain -- it's shown in her archive under May 5. The minute I saw it I knew I wanted dishes in my pond. I LOVE dishes. Perfect. So thank you Jean for the perfect idea. Blessedly it turned out really well.

Next is the planting here and there so it doesn't look quite so bare. As this was coming about I did get some mums, but despite daily the recent sweltering heat took it's toll. They don't look so good... so back to the nusery to see what further mischeif I can get into.

Also, of couse, the pond so longs for fishes and froggies. There is a fish hatchery nearby, which is where I got the water cabbage/lettuce, water hyacinth and lily pads. (There is some debate here as to which it is -- lettuce or cabbage. If you know, do tell.) Anyway, the fish hatchery people are smart enough to sell other pond accoutrements to suckers like me who say, "Oooh, pretty, I will pay cash money for some of that." At some point I will have to blog about the fish hatchery -- it is amazing! Tank after HUGE tank of fishes and froggies and crawdads, oh my!

But for now we are all glee and delight over my dazzling dirty dish fountains. And if you have any ideas of what to plant there around the pump please share, I am eager for ideas.

Welcome to the Swelter Belt

I know many of you live here permanently and could just as soon quietly die of heat stroke than hear one more peep about current temperatures, but for those of you who aren't from around here there are a few details one needs to to know while visiting the Swelter Belt.

First of all, no matter how cute it sounds, and frankly it doesn't sound all that cute, asking anyone, "Is it Hot Enough For Ya?" not only marks you as a tourist, it's the kind of idiotic comment that can put your life instantly in jeopardy. It IS hot enough for us which gives us cause to be real cranky.

Another overused comment to keep to oneself is the one about it not being the heat, but rather the humidity. When, at 8 a.m. you step from a cool shower in an air conditioned house and by 8:15 you are profusely sweating it's the heat. When you stop at the market on the way home to pick up a bottle of milk which, during the 12 minute ride from the store to home, curdles, it is the heat. When having a bowl of ice cream on the front porch sounds to anyone older than age four like a lousy idea it IS the heat.

Some folks, I suppose, are more acclimated to heat than others. If you live in the southern states along the gulf coast where it is sticky miserable 8 months out of the year, one presumes that eventually a body gets used to it. But those of us in the midwest whose thermometer guage ranges from the depths of sub-zero winters to the current outrageous angry high heat, we're confused for the first ten days or so of a heat wave. "Is this really happening," we wonder. Didn't we just put away our galoshes? Isn't summer supposed to be "Fun in the Sun" season. Sticking to the car seat and not being able to breathe is somehow not so much fun as one might imagine.

So do yourself a favor, grab something tall and cool. Pick up a quiet, solitary activity like reading (it's way too hot to crochet). Sit under a tree or near a fan. As night falls you won't feel any cooler, but you can pour something potent into your tall glass. Pretty soon, for no reason, you'll feel more chipper about both the heat and the humidity... for a little while.

Y'all come back now... ya hear.

For any of you who have wondered where I've been for the last ten days or so, as I pop in sporadically, my computer is in the hot part of the house. My bedroom and my kitchen are air conditioned... the rest of my house is not. We seem to be getting a reprieve. Right this minute it's only 87 ... I might need a jacket. I hope all is cool as can be where you are.

Nice Matters

Out of the blue she pegged me for the NICE MATTERS AWARD. Thanks, Betty. For this I am thrilled and honored. How nice. My own private little credo is that if you can't be nice be quiet. I try to follow this rule as often as possible.

I do need to mention that for some reason I could not get the graphic to come live at my blog, despite noble efforts. It happens that way sometimes. But I did make my own:


And isn't it so true -- being nice DOES matter.

As for who to tap as "nice".... such a hard call. Hmmm -- I can't pick everybody, but I will definitely pick Francie at THE SCENTED COTTAGE... go see her ~ she really IS nice.
Enjoy the nice heat (grumble, crab, bitch, bellyache, whine... ooops, not quite sooooo nice.)

The Happy Gardener

This is my dad who is a lot happier about his abundant hanging baskets than he looks. In fact he is downright puffed up with pride and delight about them -- though you can't tell by the look on his face.

My dad is the CUTEST little thing. I always thought he looked a lot like a leprechaun. And most of the time he's cheerful and charming... accept with certain relatives, which makes loads of sense to me.

Daddy has been legally blind for some fifteen years -- he has macular degeneration from having spent 40 years in the sun with no eye protection. Yet he does his own cooking, cleaning, laundry and plant growing. Just in front of those baskets is a mighty impressive tomato plant -- and when the tomatoes are ripe he will pick them, peel them and can them. Another thing he does is volunteer at the local municipal building -- what we used to call Town Hall. He works real hard and flirts with all the secretaries and lady cops and anyone else who will laugh at his shenanigans.

He even does his own grocery shopping -- I drive, but he writes out his list which is only sometimes hard to read. Did I mention that he is 80.

We should all be this energetic.

A Room of One's Own

I've been gone most of the week for a very good reason... What I have been using as an art room for entirely too long is meant to be the dining room. It was inadequate and cramped and not set up right.... It seemed like a good idea at the time -- but I could never keep it tidy nor could it be used for dining... And sooooo, I hatched a plan: make the second bedroom serve as a proper art room...


As you can see the walls are slanted, precluding the use of full size bookcases or installing permanent shelving for storage... Also, I very much need a work surface. My solution was to build two identical bookcases, back-to-back at 37" tall to double as storage and work station.

And so they are...

This is a closer look at the front...
And a closer look at the back...
It is the nicest space... I LOVE being in there.... I love that there is a place for everything. I love that it is cozy and inviting.

Yes, this is what I wanted all along ~a room of my own.

Did Somebody Say Pony?

Because her parents went outta town and she really isn't a lap dog (we don't tell her that) this week Dixie the Great Big Labradoodle spent the week at Camp Jenny! We had a rip roaring good time.... Check out them legs!


This really is one GREAT BIG DOG. She is a Labradoodle, as I mentioned. That's a Labrador Retriever and a Standard Poodle. Someone said this makes a perfect pet -- the laid back Lab and the smart smart poodle.... Someone has not met Dixie. She is, granted, a puppy, but wild as a billy goat. And DUMB. But tender too -- a kinder dog I have never encountered.

Words can not describe how wiggly and squiggly and twisty and turny this dog is... She doesn't walk, she leaps and bounds and gallops and floats... All those long legs seem to know just where to go. Graceful, that's what I'd say.

And kindly. There is that. When Dixie leans against you for comfort, you know you are being leaned against. Dixie is all legs and tenderness. There are certainly worst things to be.

What's Your Sign?

Of late I am all at sixes and sevens -- though I haven't the first notion what that means... I know it means disoriented and discombobulated. I just don't know where the expression, "Sixes and Sevens" came from. Unless it came from the multiplication tables -- I have never been able to do sixes or sevens with any reliability.

What has me all at sixes and sevens is that I have projects ongoing, but nothing very nearly complete.


Outside I am awaiting an electrical line for the Froggy Pond Pump. I have the pump. I have the fountain (oh, boy this is one really cute china fountain) ... but I can't show it till it is installed and I can't install it till the electric is in. (heavy sigh)

Upstairs, my infamous, "By Noon Tomorrow" art room move from the dining room to the second bedroom is coming along swimmingly -- but, BUT -- there is always a but, what I need are two bookcases. The walls up there are slanty. They're called "hip-walls" or "knee-walls" depending on where they angle up. So I can't hang shelves. And every art room is overrun with bits and pieces of this and that that should have homes and a shelf makes a lovely home for such things. No walls equals no shelves. What I need are bookcases, low ones, that will double as a work surface.

Yes, yes, I CAN build them.... soon as I get one little minute. I'm thinking over the weekend will be fine.

Meanwhile, the onliest little thing I have accomplished this week is that small but essential sign. "Please Be Sure to Close the Refrigerator Door."

I made it for a doctor's office -- for her office staff. They were leaving the little office refrigerator door ajar to where after a short time the little freezer in the little refrigerator was one frozen block of ice.

She wanted to scream... she wanted to kick things. She may have even wanted to smack people upside the head... but we can't as a safe and sane society do that anymore... (too bad)

Instead of screaming or smacking she had me make this sign. It is gentle. It is tender. It wiggles and flitters and is very pretty. It is also to the point. And when I see it I am reminded to calm down, take a deep breath and not scream or smack, not to lose my little mind... in a calm and gentle way, in a dear and favorable time, my things will get done, my electric will get installed, my bookcases will get built... and if not I'll go back to the drawing board and make a new sign.