The Moldy Doily

putting the Oh- in ohio

About 6 days ago I wrote the following passage but never posted it... Well, I leave today. The past few months have sort of been a blur of activity. I am anxious to leave and yet in desperate need of time away. Poor Boo is not pleased with the situation and upon seeing suitcases chose to pout for the day in a nearby box. At the moment he is asleep on my suitcase, in some effort to not be left behind. Mr. Georgie Boy doesn't mind if Kutmah takes care of him, they are old pals. Here's where I will update my trip back home- to Ohio: Let's begin with my greeting at the Cleveland airport by my sister and niece. Awesome welcome, we ended up watching 16 Candles til we all fell asleep on my Mom's bed. 2 things I realized while watching 1.) that I could recite that movie word for word 2.) Jake Ryan is universally transcending all sense of time on the hotness scale. The next day we shopped in my old hometown. This is the point where I realized that having children under 4 is not only demanding but exhausting (and may I add expensive). My sister has a small army over at her place. A one and half year old, a 3 year old and a 12 year old in addition to her Alpaca animal farm (6+ alpaca, 2 bulldogs, 1 weiner dog, too many cats to count). Lucky for her there are 6 acres to get lost in. this is what having a lot of kids looks like: I am nervous whenever I go home. It has something to do with the overwhelming sense of nostalgia that hits in waves and causes me to lose my appetite. I think everything is stirring my thoughts in the direction of the past. I notice lovely green yards with 4th of July banners and white picket fences. My mother points to a small house with rows of little flags and lets me know that a young soldier has recently died there. Something about hearing this information and the long drive home makes me want to cry. I remember myself at age 11 eating pork and beans and deviled eggs in the backyard of our neighbors place, near my old house. The year that my dad ran directly into a pipe (that had positioned a bottle rocket) and ended up in an ambulance bleeding from a gashed kneecap. On fourth of July in Ohio it always seemed to rain and always seemed to be sort of a blur. There are funny little places in Ohio, where crafty ladies create Martha Stewart like home-wares. Were talking lots of felt flowers, paint markers and glitter. My niece was way into them. Too bad they cost a small fortune. We often end up in these generic diners where every man is dressed in baggy pleated Dockers and older ladies with grey hair faintly tinted pink huddle over soggy eggs. That doesn't freak me out as much as the haunting soundtrack to my youth pouring out of the speakers at these eateries. First there is Psychedelic Furs "Love my way" and then "Blue Monday" by new order. And no one notices it, these sounds that drag me back to high school glory days. Everyone continues to talk slow, or not at all all the while my heart sinking. I want to drive around at night looking for action and parties. I imagine all of the stolen kisses in closets and dance sequences in the basement. None of this will occur on my trip down memory lane. I meet later for dinner with my father...the staunch McCain supporter, who talks politics til his face is red. He rambles about the problems with left-coast ideals and as his words blur I notice that Echo and the Bunnymen is playing on the radio. "killing moon" is the soundtrack to his rant, and mysteriously on the sound system of a conservative upper class cafe. As if a reminder that at one time there was something slightly cool here. My father tells me the elaborate (perhaps exaggerated) story about my great great grandma who was a true matriarch and owner of much of the land in that town. Her Italian roots spread deep throughout much of this little Ohio township. She was Sopranos before the Sopranos. According to old family lore, she heard her 2nd husband married her for money and shot him in the leg. The next day my mom takes me to my High School where she has to pick up a paycheck. We enter in the art wing where I spent much of my teen angst years. I peered into the empty classroom and remembered mostly the stale stench of my teachers breath. She had this amazing stare, her eyes mostly dilated and pale pale blue. I heard she passed away some years back. She was pretty awesome and did much to encourage my art. On the wall in that school wing they still had my art awards framed. I couldn't believe it. The lockers seemed bigger to me now. The smell of dusty maps or something inside of old books present in the vacant rooms. there are strange things sometime in Ohio, like these crafts. We discovered them in a creepy swap meet flea market

Things I did while in Ohio? 1.) gazed at the alpaca family grazing in the yard: 2.) attend an antique doll show 3.) jumped on various Hotel beds like I can't do at home. This photo is from the worst of my hotel rooms. They declined daily. (did I mention that the biggest letdown is spending cash on a nice room only to barely use the posh features ie: hot tub, pool, game room, minibar or BIG T.V.) 4.) watching your young nephews get locked out, and freak out. Then see them entertained for hours and hours simply by leaping off furniture into a pile of pillows: I especially love this picture of my nephew Ryder in my big hat. He has a nice fashion fetish and the perfect accessory- Skittles. 5.) saw old pals from the days way back. Most happy to see my best friend from High School Liisa. We were pretty much inseparable in those days. And always getting into trouble together, so it's funny that she ended up marrying a cop. That should keep her in line. Now you know why I slather on the 70 sunblock? The days of Boleros and savage tans is over. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The best night ever was in my last hotel room. My niece and sister came over for a good old fashioned slumber party. We watched a dvd, ran to the border at midnight (Taco Bell) Did I mention we did it Britney S. style--barefoot in p.j.s? Then we laughed and laughed about the police officers everywhere, and how we could be taken in if they're fashion police. We stumbled upon a jeep covered front to back with thick mud. Super scary and lawless like a serial killer (or hunter?). I think I've seen a Law and Order episode start out this way.

99!

Guess who is 99 years old today? That's right- UNCLE LOU. He has reached the edge of a century. Almost 100 years old, think of all that his eyes have witnessed. When I called him this morning to wish him a good one, he picked up on the first ring. He's still as spunky as ever. He asked me how I've been, told me that he is waiting for his walk and said he is still hitting golf balls over at the range. WOW. Keep moving must be the answer. When he asked what else I've been doing and I mentioned the store remodel, he said "that's never easy, cause those workers take forever!" Didn't have the heart to tell him we were the workers. As the conversation neared an end, I found myself slowly forming tears. I think that I was so amazed that he answered with such gusto, and just being able to know someone who is almost 100 tugs on my emotional side. Eat some cake in honor of the man

but my city was gone...

I went back to Solon,Ohio and sadly my city was gone. Farms and train stations replaced with factories and parking lots. I could barely recognize the lovely landscape dotted with new buildings and shopping malls. Where would all those deer go? My mother picked me up on Sunday and drove me two hours back to my hometown.
I have to admit that every time I venture back home things look different. All of my favorite spots are moved are torn down. And yet walking into my sister's place is like wandering into a blast from my past. All of the rooms are decorated with lovely paintings and knick knacks from my parents old home, before the big divorce. It's a strange sensation passing the shelves of photos and things that once adorned my childhood home. It makes me feel young again, like my sister is still thirteen and me- sixteen.

It was sweet to see my sister's kids and their new alpaca farm! The one place where the landscape hasn't been ruined with ugly megastores. Those little furry guys are adorable. I really think Georgie Boy has some cuddly competition

I got back to Columbus in time to run into my dad who was there on business. His fierce tan rivals George Hamilton. He checked out the new artwork and probably wished I was a landscape painter

this is the gate to the gallery where I used to work, it's no longer the same art space and I had a sad feeling passing by it. It was one of my all time favorite jobs, and my boss back then was the coolest lady. She drank wine, listened to Joni Mitchell and told me what it's like to be a woman in her late 30's.

They have guitar hero fever, over there, Joanna was a real pro.

my sad attempt at Barracuda. Some people have no rhythm, no musical skills-- guess who is among that crew?

Mike and Danielle really wanted me to get the hang of it. It never happened. But Mike rocked out stronger than Jimi Hendrix on the guitar. We decided to be good groupies

I had the best time driving around town in a big fur fur coat with Danielle and her sweet son. (Compared to my sister's kids he is a saint)

this trip allowed me to see the wonderful side of having children, and in the case of my sister's lil demons, the pitfalls of too many under age 3!

when in Ohio, do as the Ohioans do, Dunkin Donuts and Cheese Shells!

I got my feline frenzy on with their cat Boston. He was my Georgie replacement for the week

Petrosa's new stuff photographed against our graffiti wall. (check out her recent press on the WEXNER CENTER for THE ARTS site!! ) http://store.wexnercenterstore.com/pepeandch.html

beautiful things that I stared at all week

Aged to Perfection

It's hard to believe anyone would venture out in the rain on a cozy Sunday night, but Mr. P has some loyal pals. It was in fact his birthday- and as he creeps closer up that hill, he needs his cohorts in crime to numb the pain. We ended up at TAIX surrounding a moist Chocolate layered dream cake from DELILAHS Bakery.

He wanted to skip the big party fanfare, and so the tiny affair was quaint. He received some good gifts, including a checklist pad that you can mark off offensive cell phone stuff- ie: tacky ringtones, banal conversation--talking way too loud, etc... and then you can hand the ticket to the offender. That gift was compliments of Mr. Scheid.

I gave him a gag gift pair of dice that you can roll and it gives you options of what to do-
like NAP TODAY
Gripe Often, you get the picture. It was really for an old man, but you know Mr. P- he's pretty close to 85 years old now.

p.s. Did I mention that Nina cut my hair yesterday and gave me bangs- -my hair will never be this straight again however.

look who is loving the rainy days

THE FINAL 5

Ever since I was a kid, I've sort of put off the Holiday shopping til the bitter end. Mostly for two reasons:

1.) I normally feel compelled to rush home and hinty hint till you guess or discover what I got for you

2. Well, the obvious, I'm a procrastinator. But the truth is if I start shopping too soon, I continue to rack up gifts for the same people...like "oh, that would also be good for so and so, I'll get that too"

IT's back down to the final five days before Xmas and I'm proud to say I've neglected everyone. Truth is we don't need anything. I know I don't. Save your money and buy yourself a meal. I've got enough stuff here at home to re-gift for a family of 126.

It's bittersweet really.

Raised by a mother with an extreme case of the Christmas Crazies, I loathe the sight of SANTA. This was a real condition, with serious side effects. My mother would start right after Thanksgiving and then leave it up til around early April. You're thinking "No big deal" ? Try bringing friends home from college in the Spring only to walk into Christmas Chaos...hundreds and hundreds of santa statues and santa folk art and elves and bells and plastic window candles and eyes staring at you in every direction.

We had a 24 foot high tree in high school once, and there were still about 22 boxes of ornaments sadly unboxed. I'll bet that if I had a dollar for every SANTA and roll of unused Xmas wrapping paper combined I'd be about $26,000 dollars richer.

My mother can wrap a gift, I'll give you that. It's like the DREAM Dept Store gift wrapping center in that basement. Martha Stewart eat your heart out.
She doesn't hold a candle to that bow collection.

So if you see me wandering around a MACY's cringing to Christmas music and looking listless, blame my dad and his eggnog brigade and my mother's affliction.

here's someone who shares my fear, and last year we went to the Galleria to confront it head on.

hey little sister...

My kid sister will always be a kid. She still seems like a fifteen year old to me. I remember all of her birthday parties back then. She hated dolls and preferred to use them as dart boards. On her 7th birthday she was given a "BABY Alive " doll. The most popular doll on the market at the time that boasted "She can really eat food and she really goes to the bathroom too- just like a real baby."
Her new Birthday gift wasn't eating quite fast enough so she solved that with a nice hammer slam to the jaw. When our mother saw her in the yard wacking the new doll in the face, she asked what she was doing...and Missy replied " She works fine, she just eats faster this way."

She was a tomboy trouble maker back then and used to charge the boys in the neighborhood to sneak a peak at our father's PLAYBOY stash in the basement. When she wasn't throwing rocks at COP cars, kidnapping other kids from their cribs or lighting things on fire...she was an angel.

She's always good for a laugh

here she is at one of her summer birthday parties (on right)

Missy and I at Disneyworld, who cut her bangs in this formation? Poor kid always had either a Dorothy Hamill haircut or a bowl bang

we used to like to hang out in the backyard in our hammock

This is us on vacation in Hawaii. Our parents were attending business and we were left to explore on our own. Keep in mind she could always eat whatever she wanted and still weigh 75 lbs- (what's with my hair?)

hope you have a good one
xo
cheddar cheese

The FARM is here!

Well the day has finally arrived! My sister and her awesome family have built an adorable barn on their 6 acres and filled it with muppet alpaca pets. I can't wait to go home and see them wobbling around the land. Last summer, when Mr. P and I went to visit- we found ourselves driving around the hidden lakes and discovering secret spaces with willow trees. So it is only fitting that one of the alpacas be named "willow".

Here are some quick pics of the new creatures and Sedona in the new barn...
she must be so excited.

going home has never been so TEMPTING!!

It's Over

Here we are with our new "matching" glitter bow dangle earrings

Sedona adores Mr. Depp- ever since her obsession for Cry Baby

That Spring Break went super fast. Mr. P and I were recalling how much slower time seems to pass when your young. Remember how long the summer vacations seemed when you were a kid? I was convinced they were equal to the school year length. This week shot right past us...and all the things we had planned were barely accomplished. We missed out on the Hollywood studio tours, the swimming pools, Rodeo Drive (thank god for that). Yesterday Mr. P and Sedona took a paddle boat trip around Echo PArk lake. She steered them right under the water fall on purpose. Later we all squeezed onto the neighbor's couch to watch HAUNTING ghost stories on the Discovery channel. I knew this would be a problem later in the night. After dinner at the Indian spot- we packed the lady up and watched Flushed Away. About an hour into slumber land- the knock at the door was followed by "Can I sleep with you guys, cause I can't sleep out there...?"

Of course- three people in Mr. P's bed is comical.
Too bad we don't have any pictures to illustrate that point.
Watching her walk alone up the ramp and wave goodbye- and then getting the cell phone call from her 10 minutes later saying she had a lot of fun- and that she loves us-
Priceless.
I cried as we drove off. Mr. P just kept saying how great it all was.

Spring Break Part 2

So the saga continues...

The second movie night- Charlottes Web ended up like this...
Sedona asleep in her fancy PJs and sequin Zsa Zsa eye mask and the rest of us adults in tears.

the next morning bright and early Sedona chose to wear her ensemble back to the building

We ended up in Pasadena with Miss Viviene- eating frou frou desserts and pretending it was Sedona's B-day for the freebie

We hit up the LUSH and the Forever 21- again. I had to prove that the two story one was the mack daddy of all their stores

Later we took the fresh victim to Monterey Park for spicy Szechwan Chinese Food-
Cindy teases sedona with tiny dead fish heads

the next day -the Show Pony was shaped up by new employee Sedona- who chose to tackle the loft and feng sui the counter top. Britt and I didn't realize the stairs were there before...

And now- DRESS UP Time!! Fashion Break

Randi (Mr. P's sister) came by for a visit to the shop

Lisa from the salon helped make her hair into a fine combed poof...
for the theatre

Becky Stark from Lavender Diamond came by with a film crew- and interviewed sedona-

LAter that night we all dressed up fancy & ventured out to El Capitan Theatre- to see a 3-D MOVIE!!

Look at the ceiling!!

There are a lot of crazy things out there on Hollywood Blvd...like wild birds, break dancers etc...

we ate dinner at the old Italian place Micellis- where Sinatra style singers sang to us, while Sedona sipped her Shirley Temple- which matched her dress

in front of Shirley Temple's foot prints at Mann's Chinese Theatre

Up next...the beach and the boardwalk!

Spring Break

She's HERE!

My eleven year old niece has arrived with her two big suitcases- for SIX whole exciting days.
She brought 4 purses, every sparkly pair of shoes she owns, and matching pj sets with sequin eye masks. It's like my very own child- shopping til she's dropping. From the minute she got off the plane we decided to explore all the stores and try food from every ethnic region

So far- we hit up the French for their CREPES, she helped Mr. P whip up some Italiano homemade pizzas

(we made those special for out welcome to L.A. SEDONA movie pizza party- we rented CARS and a few other animated flicks- and she was asleep before the opening previews ended.)
Ah youth.

She tried Japanese sushi in little Tokyo
Ate her first Rodeo Grill Mexican Bean burrito...and was introduced to the spicy world of Szechwan Chinese tonight.
She's a real trooper. I've had about 15 strangers say- "hey lady your daughter looks just like you" I'm just glad someone has arrived who gets Mr. P's fourth grade boy humor. Finally an audience for all those suave jokes.
here she is right off the plane- we are cracking up because Aunt Kime already got us lost for twenty minutes in the Continental terminal at this point and Mr. P was aiming his camera at the down escalator ready to capture our picture--only to discover we were behind him instead.

From the second she arrived this little fashion plate was aching to shop. She really is like a true valley girl.
here she is showing off the loot and prooving it takes muscles to be a good shopper

Mr. P takes the double dog dare to eat all of our wasabi at once. Bad idea

stay tuned for Spring Break part 2...
the shopping saga

How to Spend Your Tax Refund

My sister lives in Ohio, with an adorable house on about 6 acres of land. The backyard is vast and has a cute creek with a bridge. I should mention that she used to take magic classes, invested her birthday money as a kid on saving the whales and books on "How to make yourself Invisible" (long before bookstores had a new age section). A few years ago she spent her tax refund check buying a stretch limo from a funeral parlor. I thought that was crazy- til I got to ride around in in with my whole family at Christmas. That thing comes in handy, trust me. She recently received her tax refund money and told me she bought an alpacca. I don't even know how to spell the word...but learned it's something like a mini llama. I thought it may be an insane purchase- but then she sent me this picture.

And I have to admit -- it's like part muppet marionette...part Lambchop sock puppet face, and so cute and cuddly. Who cares if it doesn't really provide milk or able to fit a saddle, it's worth every penny just to look at his face. And of course once a year he will give you his curly locks to make a sweater or something.
Hippie power
This is my niece (her daughter)- who received an airline ticket to L.A. for her 11th birthday! Guess who's going on the buzzelli tour of Hollyweird.

This is what she does back home in ohio

Happy V.D.

I got lucky. I have finally found a man who gets the gift giving thing. For the first time- someone who realizes that roses are ridiculous especially when forced. I had never been a big fan of Valentines Day- maybe the past had prepared me for the lackluster "romance" of the day. I like strange things, and prefer the "thought" over the money spent. So I knew I had a keeper- when a few years back- he presented me with a printed Black and White photo of us out laughing, made dinner, and handed me another large frame- this time -behind the glass -surrounded by a decorative matting- locked forever inside- his original torn/worn little black book. Underneath the little black book a small typed note (typewriter) it simply said:

Thank you for making this obsolete, Happy Valentine's Day Love.

I mean, how can you top that?

Thought I would share this darling Valentine that I received from my pal Emily in NYC

if you are pondering what to wear tonight in order to get lucky- (new from christopher kane)

(pics from alistair allan)

The Holiday Rundown

Xmas eve went something like a Clark Griswald affair...(Xmas Vacation)
I nearly chipped my tooth on the chestnut stuffing and the conversation at the table made me laugh face down into my butternut squash. I nearly got a cramp. Mr. P's plump pheasants were tasty enough to save the meal.

here's the proof that David cut into the Jesus cookie.

Mr. P's sister made this cookie. David accepted that because she is Jewish perhaps she confused Jesus's birthday with Easter somehow. Anyhow this life like carmel creation was a a work of art

Christmas Day we decided to Dim Sum- and have fear factor like contests- only Noah and Mr. P were brave enough to taste the chicken feet. Proof that not everything deep fried tastes great

Miss cindy and I decided to take advantage of Boxer day- by attending the festivities of the mall with unwashed faces. Here are the exciting gold glitter Betsey J. platforms for the season

the abandoned santa photo stand was chock full of giant glitter cookies and candies

Eggnog Anyone?

Thanks to our photographer pal Lisa Johnson, our Xmas card really turned out great. She not only has photo skills but has a funny art direction style too. For example...during this shoot she would drop lines like, "you have 2.5 kids and are about to enter the 99cent store..." or look past me-past the camera and stare off like you want to kill someone."
It was tough picking the perfect one for the Xmas card-here are some of the rejects:
(for best viewing click on the image to make bigger)

and the winner is

UPDATE!

At four lbs- on the Eve of Halloween...
WELCOME to the world--Mr. Hunter Joseph Sias. They chose Hunter because her husband was planning on hunting that day and had to cancel his trip. The Joseph comes from my great Aunt Josephine who passed away last week. Let's hope he has a little bit of Hunter S. Thompson in him.

he he.

maybe you can settle for giving him his new nickname

What's in a name?

My Mom called yesterday to tell me that my sister's water broke. She wasn't due until Dec 19th- so this is obviously a problem. She is in intensive care at the moment where they are pumping her full of vitamins and steroids so that the baby's lungs may develop completely. The baby will have to be delivered C-section today and put under watch for 3- 4 weeks. Think good thoughts for them- and try to help with a name. Because it happened so fast they still had not decided on a name.
He is a boy- and he is being born on the eve of Halloween. Wow.
(Keep in mind my sister has sort of a Western/ Indian theme already going with her other two...Ryder and Sedona) and the last name is Sias.

Here are some of the great ones that Cynthia and I came up with so far:

1. Shadow
2. Sonny
3. Hunter
4. River
5. Sequoia
6. Jake
7. Sage
8. Joaquin
9. Spirit
10. and Stone- cause that sounds like a T.V. Anchor "Stone Sias"

leave me a comment with your thoughts...

take the long way home...

When I was 18, my parents tried to figure out if they wanted to stay together. My Dad ended up putting the house up for sale the summer before I left for college. He pretended that we would be moving as a family into a new place, but later revealed that he was having an affair with our real estate lady. Obviously my parents divorced, and he got most everything. My mother moved into a condo after her nervous breakdown. I mention all this only because it has been another 18 years since all that went down and yet the dream still occurs.
Ever since we moved from the house I grew up in- I've continued to have detailed dreams where I go back to my old home. Sometimes I sneak up on the back of the house- through the forest and look into the windows on the new family. One time I had a terrorist dream where I was running behind the house trying to find a good place to hide. Then there have been the numerous ones like last night where I befriend the new lady of the house and say I used to live here--"can I come in and look around." LAst night in particular, I had a dream that a huge section of the top where my bedroom lay was burned in a fire. I went up the home alarmed- The family had placed some belongings in the driveway--sheves and shelves of my childhood favorite books. I then ask "why are these here? " and she replies "well, we were saving them for you-in case you came back." So I started going through the piles and gathered up the classics.
Strangely enough I've had these re-occuring dreams for years and years. Some weird way of dealing with my parents divorce, the loss of our home- and a life I will never have again.
My parents were never the same when we left that house. It was like a part of their personality got buried there.
About three years ago, my roommate at the time was off playing records at some fancy fashion party. We had to share a key and so I had to wait up til he called. The phone rang at around 2 a.m. from an Ohio area code. I didn't pick up. Listened to the message a few minutes later and it was my roomie saying that he had borrowed a cell phone to make the call and to call back. When I called back - the owner of the phone answered. I told him that I noticed he had an Ohio area code. He said he just moved out here to L.A. I asked where in Ohio he was from. He said- "you probably wouldn't know about it- it's a small town" I persisited. He said Solon. I said that's where I grew up. He said where did you live? I replied by saying where these two streets meet. He said 5426 Clarendon? I said "How did you know that?" He said his best friend still ives there and that he spent most of his high school years sleeping over there. I asked what year the family moved in- he replied 1988. The same year I was forced to leave it.
To prove he wasn't lying- he mentioned every detail of the home- where the giant fish was mounted in the basement that my dad caught in Mexico- etc...

He said anytime I go home during the hoidays I should just go over and say I know him and that I want to visit.
I've never had the guts.

sure it was obviously the 80's-- and that is an aerobic suspender outfit- but check out the big fish that I was talking about--

According to this dream analysis book I checked out- " To dream of your childhood house, tends to be a reflection of your life today, though a dream of mass chaos in your childhood home can indicate great disturbances in your life either now, or coming shortly. These kinds of dreams are often prophetic. You should always write down and deeply analyze dreams of your childhood."
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Dream Interpretation House

Houses in your dream can have different meanings. If you dream of a house from your childhood, your parents' house, or the house you knew in the past, you may have nostalgia about childhood and people you grew up with. It embodies a nostalgic reminder of your innocent childhood. If you have this dream, ask yourself, if you still run the same patterns from your family of origin in a current relationship. A house in general can symbolize your inner self and the house structure is also symbolic. Consciousness about a particular house part can provide you with some clue to the meaning of the dream. Your reaction to the house and feelings about it are crucial. If you are leaving the house in your dream, you are ready to move on in your waking life. Pay attention to the furniture, room decoration, windows, hallways, doors and windows, all of these house attributes play essential role for interpretation of a house dream.

A dream of home often relates to our sense of emotional and financial security. The most common home theme is that of dreaming of living in the house in which you were a child. Our first home will always remain an emblem of home, family, connections and traditions throughout our lives. The dream may say that you feel nostalgic about the past, or you are trying to relate the past to your present life.

Source: Dream-Land, http://www.dream-land.info

birthday mom

Someday I would love to get my mom a real birthday gift --like a trip to Greece, a car or a cute house. In the meantime I'll send out a card and some kind words. It's hard to believe that in most of the pictures my mother is only 28!. This was the same year she took me to Scotland to visit her family-and I saw her dance with relatives and laugh so hard she fell to the floor. I give her kudos for being a patient young mother who figured out how to use creativity to cope with crazy kids and a type "A" husband. On her birthday today- I know she will be finding a party somewhere with cheap cocktails- and laughing with all her friends at bad jokes.

here she is in Scotland dancing with Uncle Tommy

she's gone

I woke up early this morning to take GP to the airport. While brushing my teeth I heard the phone ring and then him reply to the caller "I'm so sorry Marie". And then he handed the phone to me and my mother simply said "my mommy is gone, she passed away this morning".
I guess the day before most of her children, grandchildren and great grand children gathered for a party to celebrate Todd (my cousin's son) going off to college for the first time. They took Nana from the nursing home and everyone took pictures and watched fireworks and had a good time.
Every since she took ill and had to leave her home for the hospital, my aunt has struggled to tell her that because she never signed her home over to her family, the state would eventually seize it to pay for nursing care. Sometime after the party, in the evening back at the nursing home she fell asleep. In the early morning she called a nurse in to say..." I need my keys now." Then she turned on her side and slipped away. I'd like to think she thought she was going back home.

Ellen "Nelly" Warnock was born in 1924
She had the sweetest Scottish accent that echoed like a song
she used to whistle soft little songs down the halls
she was always reading romance novels
and asking "would you like a wee cup of tea hen?"
in her wedding photo she had the longest jet blue/black hair in ringlets, like Scarlett O'Hara maybe
She always fixed my Papa toast and jam in the evening while he watched t.v, right before bed.
She loved boxing matches
Her witty sarcasm was always masked well by her 4 foot 11 darling frame
She was the first person to buy me paperdolls when I was 7--Marilyn Monroe.
She was the first customer to dine in my make believe restaurants and save every menu.
She lent me her delicate china to play house as a young girl
She always took us to the cemetary to play when she lived in Cleveland and didn't have a yard.
she kept a straight face when I marked every page in the JC Penney catalog Toy section on my XMAS list one year
She lived above the Broadview SAvings Bank when I was young, and would clean the offices at night.
We would follow her around and play "bank tellers" always scared of the mechanical Santa display in the basement.
She encouraged my entrepreneur spirit, by letting me cut up all her socks to create doll clothes
When I was a teenager she saved me clippings in the newspaper on Duran Duran
She wore my bikini once in the hot tub.
She went on many family trips with us- including the infamous scenic route to see the caverns that took an extra 5 hours. (my father is Clark Griswald- if there was a giant ball of mud somewhere we took the long way to see it)

This means that all of my grandparents are gone. She was the last one alive. I cherished her
for all of her genuine spirit and sass. She was always telling great tales and folk remedies. I especially loved the cure for chapped hands-- pee on them.

these are the first paper dolls she ever bought me and helped cut out

these are the paperdolls I made when I was seven at her house

Here I am as a young doll clothing designer- if you click on this My sister at right was the shop girl

me- in nana's kitchen

Here I am with "one" of the dolls from my JC Penney Xmas Catalog list

this past Christmas-

Appreciate Mom Day

I called my mom early today. She lives in Ohio with my younger sister. They are both LEOs, one born on the 7th and the other on the 17th. Both of them are almost too kind for this world. My mother will leave an 80% tip on a table, and when I argue about it, she'll say "That waitress is a single mother..." and go into a detailed account of the woman's life/family/ problems etc... She has every stray cat on the block fed and sheltered at her home. (Which also applied to our runaway friends in high school or loser boyfriends-who she also took in and fed) She never bought herself anything when we were growing up, except maybe an occasional chocolate bar. She moved to the U.S. from Scotland when she was about 11 and has a mean sweet tooth. If you ever said in passing that you liked something, she'd sell the clothes off her back to make it yours. Her creativity is endless. She can knit, embroider, sew, replicate any T.V. guide cover, and put any miserable game or bike together. While my impatient father was swearing, she would be solving the problems effortlessly.
I like that when she was on the phone she would doodle patterns on envelopes and write THE END over and over. She was also the first person I ever witnessed blacking in all the teeth on magazine covers and giving celebs eye patches.
When Ohio was experiencing a blizzard and I was "too cool" to wear gloves and a hat outside at age 12...my father told me I couldn't leave the house, while my mother remained cool and said " Let her go..." Which I defiantly did-- only to sneak back in later and admit I needed them. She knew that by trying to hold us back from doing things would only make us want to more. When I had decided to run away from home at age 9 because I hated the entire family, she assisted me in my luggage choice and said I should go for the more light case- in case the roads got long. She also asked the important questions while packing like "Do you think you may need this warm coat too? Don't forget clean socks." She then led me to the door and said "Don't forget to keep in touch".
I only got as far as the back yard hill. Where I could look in on them resuming dinner activities without me. She never even rolled her eyes when later that night I snuck back upstairs and went to bed.
In the 6th grade, my teacher Mrs. Reed made us read Johnnie Tremain- where he apprentices with someone to learn how to make something. We were assigned to work at home with our mothers and bake a pie for the class. The best pie would win a prize.
When I told my mom, she said "We should do something totally unique and not really bake a pie at all, then she suggested we make a fabric pie. She then took a pie tin and glued satin cream fabric to the bottom and filled the pie with those deep red small curtain pom poms and cut satin into pretty pinking sheared strips woven on top like a fresh cherry pie. It looked real- and it won for most original.
IT's funny cause if you ever told her she was artistic she would say she really isn't good at anything.
In high school she always took me thrifting to find JAckie O- like two piece 60 suits and Pretty In Pink jewelry. She would always cover my tardiness to class with fake dermatogolist notes. She would fall in love every day in the 80's with a new "one hit wonder" from Safety Dance to One Night In Bangkok and buy the cassette tape. On route to the grocery store she would sing all the wrong words- for example-
Journey lyrics for Faithfully-- she would sing I'm forever yours Italy
Police Every Breath You take--- she'd sing I'm a pool hall ace-- instead of my poor heart aches.
The Go Gos-- Our Lips are Sealed ---AS Long as I see you.
You get the picture, right?

Anyway- I was just thinking about all that has happened in the years since we moved from that house, afer my parents messy divorce. She still remains sassy and quirky. My father has long since remarried, and yet I believe he never knew how to contain her. She can still get him to do pretty much anything. He was always so conservative and controlled- and she was so natural and free spirited that it baffled us as children how they ever married at all. Perhaps it was her Beatle mania mop top Vidal SASSOON haircut, or the mini bike she used to ride, or the way she was hard to impress.
I like to imagine that he was struck down by her inability to censor herself- that uncontrollable laugh and her honestly. Things he could never acquire.

Anyway- on this mother's day-I'm glad to have such a crazy mother

May Flowers

It's almost Mother's Day, when everyone scrambles for flowers and something nice. Most of our mothers would prefer a day at a spa, someone else to clean for the day, and peace and quiet I'm sure. The Goldmine Garage on Echo Park is packing all sorts of flower arrangements, Le Pink on Sunset has all the lotions and beauty products, and there's always books. Of course my mom would probably just like to win the lottery and have my father put in a small cage. Just kidding, well maybe. The War of the Roses has not ended quite yet.
Here are my favorite SPRING picks for feeling fine in the May month--

this adorable vintage dress is all hand embroidered and painted

check out the PUCCI print umbrella

My favorite flower artist ODILON Redon- I used to check out books at the library when I was a kid of Redon because of the pictures

www.ibiblio.org/ wm/paint/auth/redon/
and something to look forward to:

The next two paintings are by artist Kelly Ording- who is having a show at New Image ARt in June

BIG LOU's 97th

Uncle Lou finally hit the big 97. I told him that Junior's Deli had a lot of fine looking ladies and that he should hang out there more often. David said maybe he could take two 40 year olds for the price of one 80 year old. I suggested that maybe he take four twenty year olds ( We are in L.A. you know) The birthday boy was definitely in great spirits--he was flirting with our waitress and asked her what she was doing later.

He ordered the usual combo and talked about his new c.d. player. Greg brought him some new Birthday discs of BIG BAND music--and of course Sinatra. He insisted these were too big to fit in his C.D. player.

Greg had a half hour rant to the waitress about plastic ketchup bottles. He told her they were disgusting and bad for the environment. He went on and on and on about how they feel disgusting and lack decent aim. He proceeded to purposely squirt the table as a form of rebellion to modern convenience. She seemed confused and perhaps pondered who at the table was "really" turning 97 today.