A message from beyond?

by Lorraine Bartlett / Lorna Barrett / L.L. Bartlett

Yesterday, I stopped at a couple of garage sales on the way to the grocery store. At one, I saw a brass bracelet that made my heart stop because it looked so much like one my Dad had made for me when I was in college. Mine is in silver, the one I got today is in brass.

Dad often worked in brass, silver, and stainless steel. When I asked the woman where she got it, she said a cousin had given it to her. (I should have asked her who her cousin was.)

 Dad probably didn't make the brass one. He never sold his jewelry, just making it for family. And he went to several jewelry-making classes at the Memorial Art Gallery here in Rochester, so this could have been made by a fellow classmate.

 Still, the lady said to me, "Maybe this is a sign from your Dad. Maybe he's saying hello."

 What do you think?

Me? Carve?

My Dad did a lot of crafty stuff. He framed houses, fixed plumbing, put on roofs, did just about any home repair you could think of--and always on a budget. But he also made jewelry, fixed watches and clocks, and he carved. When he passed away almost eight years ago, I had the task of clearing out his workshop, and I was rather surprised at how many carvings were left unfinished. The ones below are some of them. Before my mother passed, I had found a box of "hounds" that were finished except for painting. He had one or two done, so I was able to figure out how to "finish" them off.

The box above held the rest. Or rather, I found them squirreled away all over his workshop and put them in this box. And I decided that painting them would be a nice summer job. Except ... they sat there for a year and nothing happened. I'm a busy person! But earlier this summer I thought I might like to take a crack at them.  The first thing I did was buy some acrylic paint and a yard sale that featured a LOT of craft items (including a bunch of rubber stamps, which I've been happily using all summer). But -- here we are on the first day of summer and I haven't done much more than photograph them for this post. (I did buy some paint brushes, so it's not like I'm not thinking about them.)

Aren't these snowmen cute? Or at least the finished one. But I suspect that  Dad didn't paint the finished one. He had two carving buddies that he met at a class he took at continuing education here in our town. After the last was over, they met at each other's houses. There was Estreter (I spelled that phonically--because I don't know how she actually spelled her name. She may have been Belgium (or maybe from one of the slavic states) and John.

My Dad was in charge of making the blanks, and Estreter was a wiz at painting. Dad's first carvings were rather drab, but once Estreter started pointing out painting techniques, my Dad picked up on it fast. But at least this gives me a guide as to how I should approach painting the one on the left.

 By the look of these bears, I can deduce that once Dad was happy with the carving and the sanding, he put a base coat of white acrylic paint on each carving. I think I have two bottles of white, and it looks like I'm going to need them.  The brown stuff on the bear is saw dust. Wow--that basement was full of saw dust, and so is the box that holds all the carvings. It makes me want to sneeze when I get near it. I will have to haul my compressor outside so that I can blow all the dust off each piece before I paint it.  Although quite a few of the carvings look like they could use a bit more sanding.  Where's my sandpaper?

As I said, Dad made the blanks. On the right is a finished angel blowing a horn, and the rough cut for the blank. I probably won't do anything with it because A) I am afraid of knives, and B) I don't think I would have any carving talent. Just thought you might like to see how they start out and how they were finished. (He would put brown shoe polish on the finished product to give it some "texturing.")

The top hound above is a blank, and the hound below just needs a little more sanding before it can be painted.  Sanding I can do.

This guy is holding up a canoe. What's with that? The little slab of wood he's standing on? My folks had cedar bushes/trees (whatever) at the side of their yard and one got cut down. Dad chopped it into slices and quite a few of his carving stand on them.  (Smells nice before the polyurethane goes on.)

You can see how the bear on the right is pretty much finished, but the one on the left is pretty crude. Dad added the mittened paws and skates, gluing them on. I don't have either, so I can paint the right one, but the left one will never be finished.  : (

These guys (and puppy) are all ready to be painted. Wish me luck!

These guys are interesting. This is the front side.

... turn them upside down and this is the back side. I'm not going to paint them. I don't think I could pull it off and perhaps they weren't meant to be painted anyway.

This bearded guy (Santa?) is from the earliest days my Dad carved. I know because he always dated his carvings, although this one isn't dated--I already have several finished ones that are. I think he'd be happy to join his brothers in one of my curio cabinets.

I think my Dad would be happy to know that I'm going to (at least) try to finish off some of his carvings. I'll never be able to paint them as well as he could, but ... I'm sure going to try.

And my Dad's carving are what inspired me to write the first Life On Victoria Square story, CARVING OUT A PATH. I wrote about it earlier this year. (Click this link.)  I wish my Dad could have read it. I think he might have enjoyed it.  (For more information on that, click this link.)

Do you have some craft projects you want to finish up?

Those Unfinished Carvings

by Lorraine Bartlett / Lorna Barrett / L.L. Bartlett

My Dad did a lot of crafty stuff. He framed houses, fixed plumbing, put on roofs, did just about any home repair you could think of--and always on a budget. But he also made jewelry, fixed watches and clocks, and he carved. When he passed away almost eight years ago, I had the task of clearing out his workshop, and I was rather surprised at how many carvings were left unfinished. The ones below are some of them. Before my mother passed, I had found a box of "hounds" that were finished except for painting. He had one or two done, so I was able to figure out how to "finish" them off.

The box above held the rest. Or rather, I found them squirreled away all over his workshop and put them in this box. And I decided that painting them would be a nice summer job. Except ... they sat there for a year and nothing happened. I'm a busy person! But earlier this summer I thought I might like to take a crack at them.  The first thing I did was buy some acrylic paint and a yard sale that featured a LOT of craft items (including a bunch of rubber stamps, which I've been happily using all summer). But -- here we are on the first day of summer and I haven't done much more than photograph them for this post. (I did buy some paint brushes, so it's not like I'm not thinking about them.)

Aren't these snowmen cute? Or at least the finished one. But I suspect that  Dad didn't paint the finished one. He had two carving buddies that he met at a class he took at continuing education here in our town. After the lass was over, they met at each other's house. There was Estreter (I spelled that phonically--because I don't know how she actually spelled her name. She may have been Belgium (or maybe from one of the slavic states) and John.

My Dad was in charge of making the blanks, and Estreter was a wiz at painting. Dad's first carvings were rather drab, but once Estreter started pointing out painting techniques, my Dad picked up on it fast. But at least this gives me a guide as to how I should approach painting the one on the left.

 By the look of these bears, I can deduce that once Dad was happy with the carving and the sanding, he put a base coat of white acrylic paint on each carving. I think I have two bottles of white, and it looks like I'm going to need them.  The brown stuff on the bear is saw dust. Wow--that basement was full of saw dust, and so is the both. It makes me want to sneeze when I get near it. I will have to haul my compressor outside so that I can blow all the dust off each piece before I paint it.  Although quite a few of the carvings look like they could use a bit more sanding.  Where's my sandpaper?

As I said, Dad made the blanks. On the right is a finished angel blowing a horn, and the rough cut for the blank. I probably won't do anything with it because A) I am afraid of knives, and B) I don't think I would have any carving talent. Just thought you might like to see how they start out and how they were finished. (He would put brown shoe polish on the finished product to give it some "texturing.")

The top hound above is a blank, and the hound below just needs a little more sanding before it can be painted.  Sanding I can do.

This guy is holding up a canoe. What's with that? The little slab of wood he's standing on? My folks had cedar bushes/trees (whatever) at the side of their yard and one got cut down. Dad chopped it into slices and quite a few of his carving stand on them.  (Smells nice before the polyurethane goes on.)

You can see how the one on the right is pretty much finished, but the one on the left is pretty crude. Dad added the mittened paws and skates, gluing them on. I don't have either, so I can paint the right one, but the left one will never be finished.  : (

These guys (and puppy) are all ready to be painted. Wish me luck!

These guys are interesting. This is the front side.

... turn them upside down and this is the back side. I'm not going to paint them. I don't think I could pull it off and perhaps they weren't meant to be painted anyway.

This bearded guy (Santa?) is from the earliest days my Dad carved. I know because he always dated his carvings, although this one isn't dated--I already have several finished ones that are. I think he'd be happy to join his brothers in one of my curio cabinets.

I think my Dad would be happy to know that I'm going to (at least) try to finish off some of his carvings. I'll never be able to paint them as well as he could, but ... I'm sure going to try.

And my Dad's carving are what inspired me to write the first Life On Victoria Square story, CARVING OUT A PATH. I wrote about it earlier this year. (Click this link.)  I wish my Dad would have read it. I think he might have enjoyed it.  (For more information on that, click this link.)

Do you have some craft projects you want to finish up?

My Dad's Sweaters

by Lorraine Bartlett / Lorna Barrett / L.L. Bartlett

Even though it's summer, I still wear sweaters ... a lot. First, the house is often cold because of the air conditioning. Mr. L likes it around 72. I could be happier at 75, but ... I just put on a sweater.

I have a LOT of sweaters. My Mum was into machine knitting and made a LOT of them. I have a couple I wear on REALLY cold days because they are really long (I think she must have made them extra-long), and ... I couldn't bear to part with them when she died.

When my Dad passed away almost nine years ago (how can he have been gone that long already????), Mum started wearing his sweaters. He had quite a collection and most of them came from England. Marks and Spencer to be exact. I'm sure my mother picked them out for him while they were on their frequent trips "back home" in England. He wore them from the 1970s through the early 90s and then for some reason stopped. (Maybe because he gained too much weight?)

Anyway, a couple of them hung in my mother's big walk-in closet. She had anemia and was cold 24/7, so she often wore three layers in the summer. Turtleneck, sweatshirt, sweater. I'd come over in the summer and it would be broiling in the house and she'd think it was just fine.

After she passed away, it was my job to clean out the house. I gave away nearly all her clothes, and she'd already done that for Dad, but hanging in the closet were two of his sweaters. I found even more packed away in a suitcase. In all, I think I kept at least ten sweaters. And I wear them. My favorite is one of Dad's. It's navy blue and it's got moth holes. They're tiny and don't detract from the cardigan's warmth. There were two green ones, which are in excellent shape, and they are HEAVY. I didn't wear them last winter, but I will this year.

I love those sweaters. They're a tangible remembrance of both my parents.

One winter day not long after Dad died, I visited my Mum on a snowy day. I was COLD. She handed me a polar fleece jacket that belonged to my Dad and said, "Take this. And when you're sad (I was crying every day back then, and I can be reduced to tears in a heartbeat when I think of either of them now) and when you're sad, wear this and wrap your arms around yourself and it'll be a hug from your Dad.

On a day when things don't go right, I put on that jacket or his sweater and give myself a hug. It's not as good as the read thing, but it'll do.

Are you sentimental about certain items of clothing?

A little something for myself

Squeeeee! I be bad. A couple of weeks ago, I saw a Facebook ad (and I usually totally ignore them unless they are from/by an author friends of mine) for a Spode broken china holiday pendant (they also offered matching earrings). Well, I got suckered in, but isn't it PRETTY!!!!!!!!!

I now have three of pieces of broken china jewelry. (I wanted to get a pendant made from a piece of my mother's broken china, but couldn't find a place that would make it.) Mr. L gave me the first two pieces. One is a heart-shaped pendant made from Royal Albert Country Roses pattern, and I don't know the pattern of the other -- it's a round pendant with a single yellow flower in the middle.

Mr. L wasn't happy when I showed him the new pendant, because he always wants me to TELL him what I what for Christmas -- but that's no fun because I these days I can just go out and buy stuff for myself. It's a lot more fun when somebody puts real thought into a gift--or even better, makes it themselves.

I so miss that about Christmas. My parents always made us at least one thing every Christmas (I missed the "crafty" gene.) My mother usually sewed (she quilted) or knitted something.

My Dad would make jewelry or carve a Santa or something else.

Christmas will never be the same.

Do you buy yourself stuff for the holidays?