There's something about owls

This is a Banded Owl from Sumatra and is that a face of authority and wisdom or what?  I fell in love with the eyes, snappy looking beak though but the feathery tuffs say "listen up, dude!"  Sorry for the Americanism but it's really a 'dude' look not a 'mate' look.

 This is a juvenile Banded Owl, hasn't got the wisdom look yet but attitude, he has it.  Looks like a typical in your face teenager but I still love the eyes and the tufty feathers. The more I look at him the more I can almost hear the mouthing off. "Yeah, yeah, I'll clean the cage, gimme a break, I've been out all night, the hangover is kicking in, ffs Ma, I'm not a hatchling, I'll get to it!"

And straight from Harry Potter's family home after he graduated, became an auror, married Ginnie (she was the only one for him whatever the snippy Hermione fans say) and had kids.  The most divine Owlery but ditch the windows, owls are a bit dim they'd just fly straight into them.  I'd like this at the back of my house as a reading nook.

But since real owls have sharp beaks, sharp claws and eat live things and leave the bones around as well as the owl crap by the ton, I'll just have owl beads.  The colours in this one's eyes make mine water with desire to own him.

Him up there might be made in the wise mould, these two are a little on the frightened edge of the wild wood but if they stick together, they'll be right.

Even in beads we can get one with 'tude!  Get those eyes boring into your pocket looking for owl treats and that's definitely a hoodie he's wearing.  A bit of bling around the neck and probably a tinnie under that left wing.  Way on the wild side is this one. 
 

I can see him up there intimidating this wee sweetie into handing over his dead vole.  Never mind little one, you'll grow and it might be into a Banded Owl of vicious then we'll see who gets the voles.
(not true that I've seen the Owls of Ga'hoole 10 times, 8 maybe, 9 tops)

I meant to post something serious.

But I was sidetracked by glittering things like these glass beads by Masae Nakahara.  I tried to find out about the artist but pages translated from Japanese do not make easy reading.  All you need to know is in the glass artistry of these tiny objects.  The bead above has a little salamander.

 I love the detail in the lobsters in this one.

And for Elephant's Child, penguins.

And the detail is fantastic.

I am sick of my mother!

Isn't this great for an elderly indoor cat.  The Bear would love one that jutted right out of the kitchen into the apple tree.  The birds wouldn't but would probably catch on and stand on the top and make faces at him.

You can see from the size of this bead that it's designed to go on a Pandora bracelet.  I just wouldn't have the control or the patience to manipulate the various coloured glass to make it.  My hands are barely able to open a chocolate box without injury.

This is also a bead, a focal bead, the centre of a necklace.  We have the moon, stars and a swirling sea and more than a truck load of talent to do this.

 

 

 

 

Mother is sick again and I don't care a fig.  I was down there for three hours yesterday but she waited until a friend of our came in after I left to go into a decline.  The friend is more sympathetic than I am these days.  Mother said she hid how ill she was from me because she didn't want to worry me, what BS.  As though I haven't spent the last 10 years just judging how ill she is by just watching her but she had all her minions running around after her and ringing Doc Marvin. I was rung by the friend last night and had a report which was nothing like the phone call from mother this morning.  I am worried for the friend since she has become a target of a nasty at the Home who made comments up the line that she does so much for mother that her daughters must feel pushed out.  Bwahahahahaha!
I'm constantly telling her not to fall for the old bat's manipulations but she's kind and says she doesn't mind.  Sister is popping in this afternoon for her usual 5 minutes but I've warned her so she's going to try and get hold of the nursing notes and see what the medication is.  It's not infection, it's just the usual heart not functioning enough to pump out fluid collecting in the lungs.  But believe me she'll hang on until next Saturday when she turns 85.  That could have been my breaking point yesterday when she  said something about her birthday and added that it was only 5 years then until she was 90 and she might make it yet. 
 That's serious, look how fast this year is going, it's March tomorrow.

Fancy something to do after Christmas?

This is clever and something I would never have thought of in a million years to use old glass. How many times have I walked through an op shop and loved a dish or old vase and not bought it as I didn't need it.  Now I know what to do. These are from America and are called garden glass totems.
You can build it up with tea cups and a teapot, glass vases or like the image above, crown it with a glass ornament. Doesn't he look gorgeous?

 Or how about that atrocious Venetian glass bowl you might have been landed with as a wedding present which now can be turned into a bird bath.  The trick is to bury the bottom into the garden to hold it straight and use silicon waterproof glue, the clear stuff.

This is so simple and lovely, bird bath or bird feeder depending on how deep the bowl is. I could cry at all those chipped and cracked glass whatsits that I have tossed out and can never get back. Even cleaning out mum's house there were bowls that went to the op-shop in the de-cluttering. Fortunately I have plenty of op-shops to visit and any glass bits that take my eye now will be coming home.
Even just odd glasses put together and plonked in the ivy to catch the sun would be lovely especially if coloured.  Elephant's Child I can just see something like this popping up with your spring bulbs and River, even your small plot could take a small totem. But Miss O'Dyne, the mad bird lady will have glass bird baths from here to forever and they will all look lovely.

Well, I never!



You know you get to a certain age and think there's not much you don't know about life and stuff in general until you come across an article about flower frogs and don't take much notice until up comes a photograph.  Well, blow me down with a feather, so that's what those holey, spikey doovers that go in the bottom of vases to hold the flowers steady are called.  So I went looking for a few more images and they're in every shape, size, ceramic, glass and metal and some are frogs and some aren't.

I know all you flower people would probably know this but I'm of the silk flower brigade because they only fade not die.  I do have an English original flower frog in the original holder and original stand from the l930s. It's made of glass designed to look like tortoiseshell when the light shines through and was given to me by a friend who had a daughter-in-law 100% worse than mine.  She knew she would throw it out so I was to be its keeper and I still am.  I will always keep it as she was only given 3 weddings gifts and two she entrusted to me.

Flower frog, It really makes it live.



Incalmo

Incalmo, a technique invented by Venetian glass blowers nearly 500 years ago and still being mastered today. Mastered is definitely the word for this glass work as it's technically complex and physically demanding. 

The glass artist has to make two separately blown cups of glass which must be the same width at the base or top where it is to be fused to another piece of glass. The second piece must be placed directly at the edge of the first piece with no overlap of the edges. Compare this to our Burmese glass where the pink top is made of pink glass over the cream glass, put back to the flame and fused.

The finished piece can have two or three coloured sections of glass and it must appear as though it is one piece of glass.  From Venice, the method of making incalmo spread across Europe to America where this glass ware is still made by skilled artists.

So just to end on a uplifting note, when I was reading various sites about this glass I came across another innovation and, dare I say, it had to be America.  I was struck by the name "memory glass" and it comes in hearts, orbs or pendants and, wait for it, within the blown glass is suspended the ashes of one's beloved departed.  As the site put it, "...a beautiful keepsake memoir piece which can be displayed in one way or another."  I think I'll give this one a miss. I do enough talking to the departed without having them swirling around in a paperweight which I'd have to dust.

I just had to share.

Remember that nice little Burmese glass fairy light that no-one else liked except me?
This is just as sweet and would look lovely in an entrance hall. The soft light reflected back is very kind to old skin, wrinkles and sagging everything else.
The only drawback are the colours which are the Burmese glass colours but too, too pink.
See how easy it is to stuff up something so gorgeous.

By the way, a sea-going world cruise is off the Bucket List.

Burmese Glass

The beautiful shading of Burmese Glass is something glorious.  Queen Victoria is credited with naming this as it reminded her of a sunset in Burma.  Antique ware is rare but Fenton Glass is still manufacturing items.  The surface was finished with acid giving it a satin look.

This lovely vase was manufactured by the Mt. Washington Glass Company of Massachusetts which introduced the line in 1885 and produced it for about 10 years.

The addition of calcium based minerals such as fluorospar and feldspar made the glass opaque then a small amount of gold was added for the top pink portion.  A moderate amount of uranium oxide was used to produce the soft yellow tone.  This is a Webb mother of pearl finish with a painted overlay

This vase is similar but is called Peachblow, the bottom is pink to red at the top and is not satin finished. It has a raised gold painted overlay.

This has to be my favourite.  Burmese glass was used for fairy lights and they are still being produced.  This is an example of late Victorian work and I really want this on my dressing table. The soft glow of a tealight candle would show up the hand painted butterfly to perfection. The delicate colour of the fluted edge is just me.

Glass Pretties

I have had so much trouble dragging my brain into 2012 so I'm making an effort to post a teaser subject. I had to read about these so look and learn.

They are from the period 1850 - 1910.  Pretty aren't they, gorgeous colours and I bet you can't tell me what they are. You couldn't because I didn't know and I'm rooly smart.
These glass balls with a handle length neck and fragile walls were filled with a chemical, carbon tetrachloride or an ammonia/salt water solution and, wait for it, were an early form of fire extinguisher.

These fire grenades were mounted on walls in homes, hotels, schools and churches.  Thrown at a burning area, they would break and the chemical would eliminate any oxygen, albeit briefly, to help extinguish the flames.

The most common shape were balls about 6 inches in diameter and were fluted, quilted, diamond patterned or embossed with the makers name.  The colours were beautiful, cobalt blue, green, amber, clear or ruby red.
They went the way of the dinosaurs when hose style fire extinguishers took over in the early 1900's.  Much more effective but not quite as pretty.
Now I have to find a title that won't bring budding terrorists to the blog looking for grenades.

It's a jungle out there but inside I have a garden.

Just pop round the back of the shack. The front's not much, all the action is around the corner.

Mind the climbing rose over the abour and across the pergola, heading for the roof.

Ignore the cat. If you pat its stomach the drama queen will follow you all day.

There's nothing to compare with the scent of red roses in bloom except perhaps Lavender.

I have Terrariums hanging from the shady trees. All very Victorian but no trouble.

Lovely lilac lobelia spreading everywhere and crushing the weeds. I do hate weeding.

Here comes the dog with its bone. He's heading for the Marigold patch. I don't know why he bothers he never finds the bones again. I suppose it's a dog thing.

Don't they look shiny and happy until he lands right in the middle of them.

Why are the chickens hanging off the rotary line? You may well ask and I'll tell you, it's a short cut over the chickenwire to the strawberry patch. Whoever said cluckers were dumb.

Fat and delicious, just ripe for the picking. And shaded by the big tree we're treading softly by.

It's a lovely tree but we don't want to wake the boys before nightfall. They get crabby.

They look a bit dopey in daylight but I haven't had a rat or snake problem for yonks.

And the flitter of dragonflies means we're coming to the fish pond. No pristine water for this garden, a bit of slime and lots of strange life.

Water beetles and swamp flowers galore. I never wonder about what has hatched, I'd rather not know.

I can never tell whether they are funny frogs or salamanders so I just refer to them as wobegongs. They like the slimy end of the pond to hide eggs.

Plenty of bullrushes to hide the fish. I have no idea what they're called, survivors, if they live in my pond.

More fish, more bullrushes, no Moses.

Coming right along now, mind the slime and muck and the wobegongs and take a look at the wonderful fungi.

Nature's brilliant and great fun if you poke the puffy bits with a stick. Probably poisonous.

And the best part of the garden is here. Never mind those poncy 'bottom of the garden fairies', they packed up and left when the dragon arrived. He sort of dropped in one day, landed on his head and decided to stay. Keeps the damned chickens in line.

And there you have it, my garden.

Feel free to visit any time.