ArtsyNina: July 2011

Friday, July 29, 2011

Social Suicide

I want to break up with Facebook.

There. I said it.

I spend too much time there. Too much unproductive time. I've had this thought several times before over the last couple years, but never have pulled the plug. I've weeded out hundreds of my posted pictures, I've adjusted privacy settings, I've cut back on FB time only to creep back up to that Insane Time Wasting level. So why not just dump it. I've dumped boyfriends, bad friends and jobs.... I can dump Facebook too. In addition to my logical reasons, I have an unlogical reason: Mark Z is just creepy. I'd take Tom from Myspace over that Zucker-whatever-his-name-is any day.

Besides, now there is Google+. *eyeroll*

Seriously, though. I'm doing it. RIGHT NOW. Social suicide? Probably. But I'll survive it...I hope. I will keep ArtsyNina's FB fan page going because Google Analytics tells me that I should. But my personal page? Sayonara, baby.

***edit, I just realized I need to personal page to admin the fan page. Sooooo I am basically deleting all the info on the personal page. Deleting Every Single Profile Pic I have ever used, one by one. This is going to take all damn night!

Writing Prompt: House

Flicker of Inspiration Prompt #9: House

As we all know, setting is a key component to many great tales. In fact, sometimes the setting becomes a character itself, as much a part of the fabric of a story as the living, breathing heroes and villains. For this week's prompt, we'd like you to write about a specific kind of setting, a setting that can be ominous or comforting, a setting that can easily take on a life of its own. Your fiction, poetry, or memory this week should involve a house. Be sure this house plays a pivotal role in your piece. Stretch your writing muscles, personify the house, make it a key character in your tale. Come back next Sunday and link up your story about a house.

I remember the first time we drove there. We had been looking for months; we'd drive by once and only call the realtor if, well, it seemed right. We rarely called the realtors.

The drive was long. We passed through suburbs, rolling hills with lush greenery and eventually reached the prairie, flat as far as you could see and planted with corn or soybeans. Country air permeated the cabin of the car. A right turn off the highway took us past a tractor dealer and seed store. We read the street signs and turned onto 15th. No need for an address... I knew which house it was as soon as it came into view. The pictures didn't lie; she was in rough shape.

The dirty white paint was peeling, revealing wood a shade of gray that only time can provide. Almost every window was broken or covered in plastic. Gutters hung precariously off the roof and the yard had been neglected for a long, long time.

But there there was a certain familiarity; it was almost as if I had been there before. I could envision what she once had looked like. I could almost smell lilacs and imagine a cool breeze moving though the house in the spring. I could hear crickets outside our bedroom on a summer night. I could see myself sitting on that little porch with the turned spindle posts on a warm fall morning drinking a cup of coffee. I could picture the glow of a Christmas tree through the large front windows, reflecting on the snow.

It was a storybook kind of house; I wanted to learn it's history, live in it's present and write it's future.

Martha Made Me Do It.

I admit it; I subscribed to Martha Stewart Living this year. I don't remember why- but there must have been some sort of freebie or points or something super worth while for signing up. It's been years since I received any type of magazine. The internet replaced all of my light reading and window shopping. But now there is this monthly surprise in my mailbox full of recipes and pretty photos and perfect living rooms. It's kind of nice; I've missed periodicals.

I made an entire Martha meal last week. Well, I loosely followed three of her recipes. The first was for this delicious all veggie soft taco. It was simple and excellent. I was able to use some swiss chard from the CSA and I'll eat anything that includes goat cheese. http://www.marthastewart.com/349043/beans-and-greens-tacos-goat-cheese Give it a shot!

Then there was a recipe for horchata. This entire endeavor went south fast. Just as I was pouring super hot scalded milk into a bowl, Jack's little helping hand reached onto the counter and tipped the entire thing over. Somebody upstairs was watching over him that day and miraculously he did not get burned, other than a small spot that blistered on his forearm. It scared the daylights out of me and served as a grave reminder to be more careful in the kitchen. I haven't had the urge to try again, but maybe will someday. (Someday when my two year old is safely tucked into bed or out of the house.) http://www.marthastewart.com/348674/horchata

But my favorite was this tomatillo and chipolte salsa. It was simple, made enough for an 8 ounce jar, and has been finding it's way into everything I eat. I used it on the bean and goat cheese tacos, I've used it for breakfast on eggs and I've put it in sandwiches. It's spicy and has a beautiful heat. I charred tomatillos and garlic in a pan, then put them into a food processor with canned chipoltes. Added a little sugar and salt. That's IT!

Happy Monday Internets!

Jack of All Trades... and master of none.

That's the saying, right? Jack of All Trades and Master of None.

That is SO ME.

I'm kinda good at a bunch of things. I'm really good at a few things. But I can't really say that I excel at anything (except failing diet and exercise regimes; that I ace all the time).

I find myself interested in so many things, wanting to try this or that, but never really becoming so engrossed in something that it takes over my entire reason for being. Some people are passionate about photography, or a political cause, or running or bee keeping or listening to jazz. But I'm not that zeroed in. I think it's why I never picked a major in college (or attended beyond the two year mark).

Just yesterday, as I was scanning the local paper, I read an ad about vendors needed for a holiday craft show. And I clipped it, just in case I decide to make a bunch of crafty goodness and sell it. You know, I did make two prototype pair of mittens last year; upcycled wool sweaters rescued from the thrift store that I felted and sewed into the warmest, ugliest things you have ever seen. My mom and sis received them as gifts (poor guinea pigs). So, I could sew a bunch of 'em. But what am I thinking!?! Am I a mitten maker? Am I a blogger? Am I photographer? Am I an artist? Am I a seller of vintage goods? Or am I just a mom? Or maybe I could be a GRAPHIC DESIGNER! *eyeroll*

I've been getting better at putting together graphic ads ever since the garlic poster entry (which, by the way, does not appear to have a winner yet since there is nothing posted on the website). Here are a couple that I built for Camp Honeybelle yesterday. Whadya think of these?

for 150 x 600 slots

for 125x125 (buttons)

for 300x250 slots

Anyways... sometimes I just wish I was a little more focused about something. Heck, anything. It's tiring to be a Jack of all Trades and Master of None!

(And don't ask me why I'm in this weird, what-am-I-supposed-to-do-with-my-life mood. Maybe it's because Kelli is chasing her dreams for realz, or maybe it's just PMS.)

If Wishes Were Fishes...

If wishes were fishes, we'd all cast our nets.

My thoughts art somewhat scattered tonight. That means you are in for some disconnected fun!

First, a story from the weekend. On Monday, while we were at the cabin enjoying high heat and humidity, I was attacked by sunfish. I kid you not. Jack was taking his afternoon snooze, Tom was off fishing, and I was trying to stay cool in the water. I was laying the wrong way on a blow up raft. You know, perpendicular to it. Basically, it was holding my middle afloat while my arms and feet dangled in. I was lying on my stomach and paddling around shallow water, looking at all the interesting things on the lake floor. I found an old fishing lure, seashells, snails, sunken bobbers... and then I was bit.

Yes, bitten. Something bit the inside of my thigh. I felt the pinch with a startle and immediately paddled to the other side of the dock. And then I thought 'Nina, you're an idiot. I'm sure that the fish is more afraid of you than you are of it'...I thought that in my Mother voice. Because I am sure she told me something like that about spiders one time. Or mice. Or both. Anyways, I pulled on my theoretical big girl panties and paddled back to the other side, intent on exploring where I was before.

And then something started flapping up under my floatie. It was that damn fish! I hit full blown panic mode. I think I even screamed. I scrambled to align my body with the raft and get all four limbs safely on top of it. I felt like I was wrestling a moose! After a few seconds of insane flailing I managed to get on top of the floaty and paddle to safety. Did I mention that all of this activity was in a mere three feet of water? I could have easily stood up and walked out of the lake. Now I understand why people do stupid things in horror movies. Terror triggers poor decision making, hehe.

I never did see the fish that was after me, but the red welt on my leg was visible till the next day. Who knew there were rabid panfish in Minnesota lakes?

Second, I caught some lovely little treasures at a sale two blocks away. I spent the afternoon taking photos, editing and uploading. Camp Honeybelle is getting full!

http://www.etsy.com/listing/78245799/vintage-pair-of-shoe-trees-shoe

http://www.etsy.com/listing/78244028/green-glass-pig-vintage-summit-art-glass?ref=v1_other_2

and then I stumbled across this little beaut at a flea market up north.

http://www.etsy.com/listing/78196340/vintage-cat-eye-glasses-brooch?ref=v1_other_2

Third, there is no third. There may have been when I started typing, but a wave of tiredness just hit me, so damnit, I'm going to bed.

Goodnight Internets, I love you!

Linking up at: http://www.frenchcountrycottage.blogspot.com/ and

Fear.

Fear is a funny emotion. I think that being fearless is impossible; some cloak it well, but it is still there, hiding underneath a spider or behind that pile of unpaid bills. We all fear different things for different reasons. I may not be afraid to quit my job, move to a dilapidated old house or operate a miter saw, but I am afraid to post my 'art'.

See? I can't even talk about it like it's really art. Just like I don't call myself a writer. Blogger, yes. Rambler, yes. Bullshitter, yes. Writer? No. Artist? No.

Am I afraid to be judged? Am I afraid that you will think it looks like a third grader broke out her new set of crayola crayons? I don't know. I love to post my house projects, crafty surprises and cooking adventures, but I hesitate to tell people about things I have painted, drawn or written as fiction. I suppose that I feel unqualified and uneducated as any type of artist, thus I cannot lay claim to those titles.

And then I look around Etsy and Artfire and I see the abstract, ugly and bizarre paintings floating around and my brain says 'Why the heck can't you sell a painting? If someone is interested in that excuse for a painting, someone would surely see beauty in yours'. Maybe?

So, with racing heart and sweating palms, I am going share two of my watercolors and a few chalk drawings. I created these in another lifetime; before Toms and Jacks and houses in small towns. I hope you like them. But if you don't, I am hiding safely behind my computer screen and won't feel the rotten tomatoes you throw my way.

Beating the Heat (yeah, right), Part I

Ahh, three days at the cabin.

The news had been warning us about a record heat waving coming our way. Not only record heat, but tropical humidity. Like... 95 to 98 percent humidity. Sure, we could have stayed home and hid behind curtained windows basking in cool air. We could have, but we didn't.

We had this brilliant idea that it would be better to head to the cabin. The airconditioning-less cabin.

Jack and I caught a ride with my parents early Saturday morning. My parents would leave Sunday, and Tom would arrive Sunday evening after work. Just one small detail: I forgot my cell phone, the cabin has no land line, and does not get TV reception. No internet or cable either. That first day and night with Ma & Pa Artsy was full of typical cabin fun.

Sunday morning we woke up to dense fog, heat and humidity. Did I mention humidity? It was fine as long as you didn't exert an ounce of heat-generating energy. The minute you moved, you were instantly drenched in sweat. Mom and Dad hung around till mid-morning and then started packing up. They left me Dad's cell phone for emergencies. I told them it would be fine... my darling husband should be arriving by 5pm. That was a mere seven hours away. They hit the road and I decided to check in with Tom. I picked up Dad's phone only to find out that it was broken! The humidity was so high that condensation was all over inside of it. I could get it to power up and display a blank white screen.

Panic started edging in. I don't have a phone. I don't have a car. I don't have internet. I don't have a TV. What if Tom broke down? What if we had a medical emergency? And I didn't even know what time it was! Then Common Sense kicked in and reminded me of a neighbor in residence all summer a few properties away. Common Sense said that there was plenty of food in the fridge. Common Sense told me to turn on the radio to catch the time and weather. Common Sense laughed at me while saying 'NINA! Stop worrying - you are turning into your Mother!'

Ahh, Common Sense. You are so smart. I relaxed and enjoyed the heat... until Jack pooped in his swim shorts. While he was in the little blow up pool. Surrounded by a million water toys. And the funniest part was that I didn't even REALIZE it had happened until it squished out of his shorts and last nights corn made a reappearance. *gag* Yep, the fun was over. After a quick shower it was nap time for Captain Poopypants and clean up time for me. Oh was that fun; mesh liner in the shorts, tons of toys to clean and a 4 foot pool to rinse out in crazy heat and humidity.

Fortunately the heat knocked little Jack out for almost three hours. I was able to clean up and then resume Operation UnConnected. Instead of checking email, I read a book. Instead of writing a blog, I sat on the dock and dangled my feet in the water. Instead of sending Tom inane text messages, I enjoyed the sound of the lake lapping at the shore and loons singing their crazy songs. I cut mushrooms and onions for dinner, I seasoned steaks, I shucked corn and set the table. All without any Electronic Intrusions.

It was nice.

I have a few more stories from our weekend to share during the next few days. I was attacked by fish, I met Bernie in Duluth, wearing Chanel No.5, cooking chicken backs..... Stay tuned!

Shutdown Hits Home: NOT THE BEER!!!!

I live in Minnesota. You know, that state that has been without it's government for thirteen days.

In the beginning, I was not very concerned with the shut down. Eh, who cares. Some lazy lawmakers just want a few days off. It doesn't affect me.

We went ahead with our 4th of July plans and I was sympathetic to all of those State Park vacationers who had to cancel their trips or actually vacate their campsites. But it didn't directly affect me.

When we stopped at the bait shop up north and intended to buy our fishing licenses, and couldn't, I didn't care. It's just a fishing license; we'll get one once things are running again.

When I stopped at the gas station and paid inside, I looked at the colorful lottery scratch off tickets under the counter as I always do. And I noticed a sign in black marker stating that lottery sales are suspended. Again, unfortunate for someone who really wants a lottery ticket, but not life altering.

As I drove the I494 corridor through Bloomington at HWY 169 and noticed the large metal cranes and half finished road construction project lifeless and collecting dust, I wondered if it would be completed before winter.

And then this weekend I spoke to my sister, a dental hygienist. Her dentist, Dr. Hansen, needs to renew his license soon. If the state is still shut down, he will be forced to close his doors, because in this day and age of lawsuits and blame, you just don't operate without a license. And then my sister will be out of a job; a job that she has held and performed well at for 8 years.

Now it's hitting home. I care. This needs to be resolved, and fast.

Every day more instances of the absurdity of this shutdown surface. Have your wedding planned at a beautiful Minnesota State Park this month? You need to find another venue. Want to take your toddler to visit historic Fort Snelling today? Think again. Need to renew your business or practice license? Forget it and hope you have enough money saved to survive till this all gets resolved.

And last but not least, Minnesota might run dry. I just read that MillerCoors is going to have to pull its product from our liquor store shelves and serving establishments. If I can't get a Blue Moon, I am going to be pissed.

Yes, I still cook.

Could be any combination of things causing my wizardry in the kitchen to slow down. Maybe summer, maybe more fresh veggies available, maybe more grilling, maybe that job I just quit or maybe it's just plain laziness. But my wallet and my waistline have suffered because of it. Time to get Artsy in the kitchen again!

Are you ready for more goosefoot (also known as LambsQuarter) madness? Now that I am comfortable with identifying it, I see it EVERYWHERE!

Goosefoot Breakfast Souffle

2 cups goosefoot leaves; washed and chopped

4 eggs, separated

1 tsp fresh rosemary, minced

2 Tbsp butter, melted
3½ Tbsp plain (all purpose) flour
1 cup milk
½ cup parmesan cheese, finely grated Salt and pepper to taste

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees

2. Separate eggs; scramble yolks and set aside whites

3. Add goosefoot, rosemary, flour, milk and butter to egg yolks; mix well

4. Whisk egg whites till white and frothy-just starting to form peaks

5. Fold egg whites into yolk mixture and pour into 8-9" round or square pan

6. Bake for about 25 minutes, adding Parmesan cheese to the top during the last five minutes.

Looks Good, huh?

A Random List

1. Do something spectacular for Bernie. We are planning on meeting up soon; she is coming back to her home state of MN is a week or so. Why must I do something spectacular? Well, she sent me some goodies from her Rubber Stamp Shop, along with this AWESOME ARTSYNINA CARD. And now that I know about her taste in purses... my gears are turning...

(I hope I'm not the only one with a cluttered fridge)

2. Potty train Jack. Starting Monday. I think I am going to let him go diaperlesss and spend as much time outdoors as possible. Because I am NOT letting him pee on my new rug.

Won at chrislovesjulia.blogspot.com - check her out!

3. Buy enough supplies to go on a juice fast for at least three days. I watched Fat, Sick and Nearly Dead on Netflix yesterday. This guys goes on a juice fast for sixty days. He totes around his Breville juicer and talks to people. People like you and me that eat too much junk and not enough veggies. It was inspiring. Know what's even more inspiring? The fact that I have a beautiful Breville juicer in my kitchen that doesn't get used nearly enough. Tom bought it before we met. I tell ya, that boy was a good deal. Tall, handsome, owned a Kitchenaid Professional Series mixer and a Breville Juice Fountain Elite. I know, some women want fast cars and fancy watches when looking for men; I look for quality kitchen appliances.*eyeroll* Anyways, yesterday I juiced swiss chard, cucumber, apple, green onion and radish. It made enough for one measly cup, but it was good. Today I did green pepper, cuc, apple, carrot, red onion and lemon, And that was good, too!

4. Go to the beach more. We went to the next town over from us and found a nice little beach. It was deserted and we had the whole place to ourselves. Jack enjoyed the water, and I enjoyed watching Jack.

He's making the motorboat noise.

4. Do all sorts of exciting things with my husband. Now that my babysitting gig is over, we can do things on his days off. Like drive the North Shore and stay at the Naniboujou Lodge. Doesn't this place look fantastic? If I work at Camp Honeybelle hard and save my pennies, I foresee a trip up there in late August. And Tom wants to go to one of those mystery dinners. Like this. Or maybe I can talk him into Murder on the Disoriented Express, hehehe.

http://naniboujou.com/history.php

5. Finish the freakin' bathroom. It's been in a state of remodel since... Thanksgiving? Ugh. We need to do the tile on the shower walls, install a ceiling fan, and one more measly piece of drywall. After that it's all fluff; decorating chores like paint and wallpaper. Speaking of wallpaper, I am in to mood to be bold. Like some weird toile. Or maybe black and white frames. Since our bathroom is already tiny, why not make it feel positively claustrophobic?!

That's enough babbling for now. Over and out, Internets! PS, if you are a new reader at Artsynina -THANK YOU AND WELCOME!

Adventures in Babysitting

The last two months of my life have been... somewhat challenging.

You see, I signed up to watch two little boys, in addition to my own little boy. That makes a total of THREE little boys ranging in age from 20 months to almost 4 years old.

Moms of many, how do you do it? HOW DO YOU DO IT?

I naively assumed It Would Be Easy. Jack would have people to play with. It's only six hours a day.

Oh boy. My dream of kids playing happily together was shattered only minutes into my first day with the three boys. Phrases like 'Stop It!' 'I had it first' 'He hit me!' 'Wahhhhhh!!!!' soon filled the air. And they haven't stopped. Sure, we have our moments of giggles and tag and fun in the sun, but the whining and crying seem to have taken over.

Before I started this summer job I had all sorts of ideas to keep the kids busy; planting pumpkins, catching bugs, playing at the park, running through the sprinkler... you know, fun things like that. But guess what - each one of those activities lasts *maybe* thirty minutes. And then there are three hundred and thirty minutes left in your day. When you are counting down the minutes till mom picks them up, that is a lot of minutes.

The best days are those when the stars are in alignment or maybe the house is feng shui'd properly and two of the three boys take naps. Ahh, nap time. But those moments have been far and few between. The youngest is easy; Thomas the Train knocks him out cold within minutes. My boy has been tougher. He is a Sleep Fighter and has been since the day he was born. He only naps a few times a week these days. And the oldest is past nap time. Speaking of nap time, I am enjoying a peaceful house right now. The younger two are down and the oldest is playing quietly; happy to be able to drive trucks around without toddlers getting in the way.

This is my last day watching them. I admit defeat. Originally I was supposed to watch them till September. But I couldn't take it. I felt so guilty and lame as I called my friend and told her that I wanted to quit. The last eight weeks have been a long lesson for Nina in patience. It's hard enough to raise my own child, much less someone else's kids. I was even more aware of my parenting with the kids that weren't mine; everything I do or say is leaving impressions on their young, spongy little brains. And I just didn't want that kind of pressure. To those of you that work in child care; you are AMAZING and I have no idea how you stay sane.

I have always said that I wanted a litter of kids; probably four. And then Jack came, new mommyhood kicked me in the butt and I decided that maybe two would be a better fit.

But now, now I wonder if maybe Jack should be an only child. Because believe me, there have been a few days this last two months where I was ready to scrape my uterus out with a spoon. And Hell, I ain't gettin' any younger.

Aww, I don't really mean that. I still want Jack to have a brother or sister, if that is what The Man Upstairs has in store for us. And people say it's different if you're managing your own kids. I sure as heck hope so. Because like I said before, Mom's of Lots of Kids.... HOW DO YOU DO IT!?!!

PS, I think it's only fitting to link up this post anywhere with the title THIRSTY THURSDAY.
hehehe

Camp Honeybelle Update

Summer is the season.... for garage sales. Thrift stores Estate sales. Finding goodies in the throw away pile at the church rummage sale. Ahh, the excitement!

I procured a hall pass from Tom yesterday morning and hit the local thrift store without a toddler. Do you remember how wonderful it is to shop without a two and a half year old? It's wonderful. It's better than an all expenses paid trip to the day spa. Well, not really. But it's darn close.

I found some goodies and I am working on getting everything uploaded to Camp Honeybelle. I've been on Etsy for almost two weeks now and have five sales. Only two people have left feedback. Building an online shop takes time. Apparently. And getting your items noticed in that vast sea of handmade and vintage goodness is nigh impossible without TONS of promoting. I believe that my sales so far can be attributed completely to the online presence and pimping of my friends; my real life pals and blogging BFF's. I can't thank you guys enough.

thank you THANK YOU tHaNk YoU!

Here are some of my recent fab finds....

Some sheet music. How could I NOT pick up the Dirty Dancing ones?

And these are just interesting images, on their own or as part of a collage or other mixed media something.

And I found RECORDS! With my fav famous peeps on them.

But the best is this kick-a$$ London Fog Trench coat. Come on, who wants to buy it for their man?

And then the pink lamps from the previous weekend. I can't believe they are still here. Soon... they will find their home in some retro shrine, I am sure of it.

Well, Happy Wednesday and here's hoping for a successful selling week at Camp Honeybelle.

Over & Out Kids!

Hello July

What a weekend. What a summer. What a life. It's amazing what a couple of days in the sun can do for a girl's spirit. We spent Saturday, Sunday and Monday up at my parents cabin near Palisade, MN. The weather was absolutely perfect. Unbelievable, really. Minnesota weather is so fickle; to have three straight days of mid eighties, low humidity and the perfect blue sky dotted with a few puffy white clouds? Well, it's certainly reason to celebrate. OH! And of course it was the Fourth of July.

The atmosphere up north was charged; trucks pulling every size and shape of boat, mini vans piled high with pillows and groceries and kids, 4-wheelers racing up and down the ditches and of course some road construction slowdowns.

Every face I saw seemed happy. Even as we were waiting to pull out of the gas station in Garrison, looking out at Lake Mille Lacs and watching an endless stream of cars head north on Hwy 169, people were smiling It was a situation made for honking and impatient male drivers giving hand signals.... but there was none of that.

Our lake was busy. Just about every cabin was bustling with activity; tents for extra guests, grills were smokin', kids yelling 'canonball' as they run off the dock... it was pure living-on-the-lake bliss.

This is how we roll: