The Immovable Beast

I'm a bit concerned I may have just erected a temple to unfinished projects. One of my favorite renoporn sites posted a rendering of a workspace that caused my inter-cranial cherubim to take up harp & lute & convince me that this glistening, all white component system would be the PLACE WHERE I WOULD FINISH ALL THE AMAZING THINGS I'D BEEN PONDERING SINCE BIRTH. I was certain this arrangement of components was somehow cosmically targeting me, because I am cheap & already own functional & presentable equivalents for every component pictured.

Of course there were a few ever so slight differences I'm choosing to ignore:
 The picture is a designer's rendering, presumably unbuilt & untested.
Theirs was completely unspoiled by, say anything actually being placed on the virgin shelves. Every piece I planned to employ was already chock full of things mimicking lead.
Did I mention how shiny & WHITE their concept was?  Conversely, mine is to be fashioned of 3 tortoiseshell-effect split rattan cabinets, a distressed off-white hutch top (I had bought for $100 when the base unit had been destroyed in shipping), a humongous solid mahogany desktop, & 2 towering drawer chests, 11 drawers apiece, in--wait for it--matte-ish black.
This was a bit like trying to duplicate a 2 piece white meat KFC combo with a chicken foot, some tail feathers & a bullion cube.  Of course as I mentioned before I am choosing to ignore all this minutiae. And so yesterday first thing in the morning I started hauling crud out of that room (thus infecting all the other rooms) in an effort to a unearth said components.
And only 17 hours later, at 3:30 AM today, I had achieved something that looked like this and that I am now terming the immovable beast.
Please don't misunderstand. I am actually pleased with this progress. However, I had better be pleased because this stuff is never moving again!  So far I have actually managed to write in the space (actually dictate in the space), and eat a slice of leftover pizza. Once I've thrown in some sewing, I'll have covered the uses I intended.  Mu is still trying to figure out the best angle from which to beg with this arrangement. I'm sure she'll get the hang of it soon.

Catching New Ideas

Some people talk about 'dry spells,' writer's block, general doldrums & creative apathy. A lack of ideas (though granted they aren't all ready for prime time--evidently my enthusiasm for my invention 'Yonuts' (frozen yogurt filled doughnuts) was purely my own) was never the issue. Hours in the day--the real problem. 

When my ex & I had the used goods warehouse store on St Croix years ago, I had to train myself not to see potential in everything that walked in & out of the door. That evidently requires periodic retraining, because my house is pretty full of stuff that only I see as having possibilities.  I'm OK with being alone in that vision, as long as plans & ideas come to fruition every now & again. Thanks to some help (ranging from opinions to heavy lifting) from my friends, several plans are becoming real this summer:

1.  I finally exchanged the cursedly mundane brown trim on my little house for a refreshing dark cool grape.  

2.  The porch ceiling was my first foray into what I intended to do since I bought my 70's house in 2008--paint ceiling & beams all one seamless color. I'm so pleased that next week the rest of the ceilings will become one big creamy white united front as well.  

Then last week I used some stuck at home with respiratory crud downtime to polish off another lingering unfinished project--this one:

I call it 'Big Clay Pots Painted Green, topped with Plants & Filled With Sea Glass"

But you can tell from there they're full of ...potential!!!

Puzzle Prep?

Today's project--FULL of sea glass!

Happy purple bromeliad on a new table

Before Sudoku, before the Rubik's Cube, before Space Invaders, there were these little puzzles with plastic tiles in a plastic frame & they would slide in only 2 directions (evidently diagonal hadn't yet been invented in the late 60's). I don't remember the object but my fingertips have a memory of how the puzzle felt in my hands as I pushed the tiles up, down, left, right. It was really rudimentary.

Who knew I was learning such a useful life skill?  In a small house with a lot of stuff I spend a lot of time trying to create, improve or relocate some mode of storage. 

Today's project was to paint gigantic clay pots bright green & fill them with the sheer tonnage of sea glass I've collected here over the years & have been storing in tarp-covered under-bed chests on my porch. Once full, I covered the pots with sheets of plexiglass & placed some of my many plants on them. They make wonderful side tables & plant stands & they aren't about to blow anywhere in a storm. And now I can get rid of those ugly plastic chests. I used 3 med-lg & one enormous pot today & offloaded the contents of one large & almost 2 medium plastic chests. It worked so well I'll be back at Home Depot tomorrow buying 4 more pots & four more sheets of plexi. I have enough paint. 

I know these numbers will be enough to hold the contents of the remaining 3 chests because in the 70's & 80's I learned another outmoded skill: Algebra. My favorite formula is 'this is to that as that is to 'x'.   When you live in a compact home, you use that one a lot.  

Oh, & the final result of all this puzzling & calculating should be a cleaner looking porch with more usable, non-plant-covered tables. Drinks will have a place to rest, & there will be room to serve dinner for 6.  And when I'm ready to sort sea glass for my next batch of angels, jellyfish, crabs or Jumbies, I'll have a lovely & practical way to do that....and more time to play Scrabble!

Plants That Do Tricks

I love plants that can do tricks. I prefer those that come by their talent naturally & willingly to those tormented, grafted & twisted according to the will of people. (Exception:  espalier. Love me a great flat, wall hugger of a tree, but I detest topiary. I see green 'poodle-puff cuts' on a shrub & I want to scream 'Let my foliage FREE!')
Instead, I admire any one plant that produces several different colored flowers. Nasturtiums, for one. I also like Lantana's concentric ombré effect.
But my favorite 'cirque de foliage' trick is any GREEN flower. So refreshing & unexpected. In Annapolis I lived in the postage-stamp sized guest cottage of a narcissistic plastic surgeon who thought he was Georgio Armani, but more closely resembled Spaulding Gray. From the sleeping loft (up a ladder, 2 twin mattresses in a hirsute railed adult 'crib' arrangement), you could peer through the rail to see what was directly beneath you, cooking on the stovetop. Did I mention it was small?

This one really does tricks--from innocuous green bud to spectacular pink orchid!

It had 3 'pro's:' 1.  A huge skylight directly over the bed, through which was a wonderful view of treetops.  Raccoon families would regularly take time out from garbage can raids to look in on my slumbers. 2. My first experience with Jalousie windows which acted as a funnel for sound. I always

The mostly finished porch!

 

left the windows cranked mostly open, & since I was situated uphill from the little neighborhood dockside beach bar, I was lulled to sleep by the soft metallic clang of sailboat riggings & strains of my first experience with reggae--UB40.
But the third & most wonderful thing about this unassuming, glorified garden shed was the 2 disproportionately long window boxes that, when combined spanned the whole exterior wall by the door. Mind you, there was no window above them, only rough dark brown wood siding, but in my eyes the empty boxes had such potential.
Maryland had wonderful nurseries full of lush plants & I had spent many weekends wandering their gravel  paths, dreaming of gorgeous massed plantings for which I would never have space or landlord permission. Now I had a place for a bit of what I'd been longing for, so I went to 6 different nurseries, drew various schematics, priced plants...became completely overwhelmed with choices, & went home & planted seeds. I planted bells of Ireland.
Within a remarkably short time, their gorgeously healthy green  spires were tall enough to touch the eaves & the flower boxes were so full it looked like the cottage was off-balance & in danger of rolling over.
So I added trailing purple lobelia to the front edge.
I loved the wave of cool colors that hit me when I came home after I commuted through the infuriating sea of duh traffic, having spent my day doing a type-A job For which I was completely unequipped. I'd unlatch the pixie-height wooden gate & step down into my tiny Eden. I'd grab an iced tea & my book & flop into the single, basic outdoor chair to read until it was too dark to make out the words on the page. It was only my second adult home, & those ethereal green spires made it mine.
Fast forward a couple of decades & the same things affect me the same way, but I 'go much bigger' (& stay home) now. I'm just completing (for now--I have a deeply held belief that when we cease to tweak, we die) my second total redo of my front porch since I bought my little house in May, 2008. Unexpected furniture paint & upholstery colors, a freshly painted tiffany blue beamed ceiling & dusky, dark aubergine fascia & trim against the sandy, buttery wall color make a happy backdrop for all the orchids, whether blooming or not.
But the big joy this morning was this green Dendrobium beauty, blooming over the blue rail & greeting my across the street neighbors. Lucky them.  LUCKY me.

St. Croix Summer

Andrè Millar, a fave orchid 

Summer in St. Croix is a pretty wonderful, lazy thing. I look forward it like teachers must--lists of deferred projects made, edited, lost, recreated & usually forgotten when the flat, clear, signature 'Tiffany blue' of the Caribbean Sea calls. The sea calls to me year-round, but I'm able to answer more often when cruise ship port calls dwindle to one stop every third Sunday. And there's the yin-yang summer bonus cache of sea glass unearthed by tropical storms on their way through our neighborhood. I'm also addicted to seeing my favorite fish--a jr. Puffer type with his perpetually surprised expression & his two young French Angelfish friends. This summer I've never snorkeled alone, having a friendly entourage of very pushy 3"-4" long silver fish with me at all times. They swirl around me as I gather glass, & actually head-butt me sometimes. I call them Mumifish, named for my pup who uses similar tactics to get my attention.
Despite all the time spent 'self-brining,' I am getting some projects done, including a few house face lifts that have had a similar effect on my mood. Regular roof maintenance turned into trim work.  Trim paint (deeeeep midnight purple or 'Grape Ape,' as we've taken to calling it) quickly segued into porch ceiling paint (also 'Tiffany blue) & so on. I've put pics in a 'Projects' album on my personal FaceBook page (add yours to the comments section on this & I'll 'friend' you if you'd like) & new sea glass designs on www.facebook.com/FromtheC.

I finally opened an Etsy storefront at www.etsy.com/de/shop/fromthecstonegems.
I also post lots of pics of the orchids & fruit I grow on FB. Pineapple season in my yard was particularly splendid this year, with 21 beauties quickly dispersed & dispatched by my friends & myself. I even got around to boiling the peels this year to make a delicious unsweetened juice I used to bump up the flavor quotient in banana bread & muffins.  Mixed with light cran juice, the pineapple juice makes a really refreshing drink too.
Speaking of which, I'm about to have a glassful & toast to your lovely, lazy summer, wherever you celebrate it.

Parables in Paradise

I like parables almost as much as I like analogies. And I'm telling you I like analogies like pageant queens like tiaras. But back to parables.
Growing up I frequently heard 'there is a lid for every pot,' & I guess I subscribed to the premise. It is similar to the Hebraic concept of bashert, which states that there is a 'perfect-fitting' someone out there for every one. The reason they fit one & only one person is that we were once fused, subsequently divided, & then left to wander the earth searching for our missing, matching mate. Kind of a cross between match.com & Garanimals, I guess.
My experience was more like Huusker Dü, the old memory game where you remove 2 checkers from a board, revealing symbol pairs & try to remember where the matching pairs were. It was a little more hit or miss than bashert's certainty, & the instructions were in Swedish, not unlike Ikea kit furniture. How's that for an analogy!?
Lately I've grown very attached to a local version of a pot parable (non Marley related); 'Every pot must sit on it's own bottom.'  Though I'm trying not to take that too literally (I get off my bottom & swim a lot), I like to think I've found the balance & independence of mind implied in the island version.
I'm not ruling out a lid...just not squandering a lot of time trying to get one to fit. For now I'm fine as is, on my own (well you know) & letting off a lotta steam!

Happy

So I had an appointment that I expected to be quite somber this afternoon.  Instead I left the spot with a snappy tune in & a ridiculous grin on my oh so round head.
A friend was recently diagnosed with a serious medical problem, one that caused her to lose her voice (temporarily) & those who knew her to gain some worry furrows. After several postponements of our regular standing monthly appointment (while she was off-island for treatment), fear & anxiety were building their walls on the foundation of the unknown.
  Earlier this week I finally received the call setting firm the appointment & by the time I arrived at the designated spot today I was twitchy with uncertainty. After I've known her for 2 decades would she look/sound/feel in some sense different or diminished?
When she opened the door the music fairly bounced out the door. My friend is a diminutive person, even so I've always marveled at how unfailingly perfectly put together she is, with the final detail always a spiky pair of beautiful heels (despite the fact she works on her feet for hours at a stretch.) When the door opened this afternoon I expected flats & probably an outfit more suited to comfort than style.
She wore a perfectly cut red dress, her black apron & a gorgeous pair of strappy leather high heels.  Her voice is back, as is her smile. The only visible change is a narrow clear strip of bandage at the hollow of her neck. After the initial relief, I relaxed & only after 20 or so minutes had passed did I become aware of the song, the soundtrack to this surprise. It was Pharrell Williams' 'Happy,' from 'Despicable Me 2.'
My appointment was at 4:30 this afternoon.
She had been playing 'Happy' on continuous repeat since 9 this morning.
No one complained.