A Year Ago…

Marion E. Glennon – October 28, 1930 – August 15, 2021

Remembering my beloved mom on this day, the first anniversary of her passing. 

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve reached for my phone to ask her advice, get her take on the latest political news, fill her in on some interesting tidbit or send a photo of a doe with her fawns in my yard. (She would have gotten such a kick out of the deer.) There are still times I grab something while shopping because I think she might like it. I don’t mind these quirks because it makes me feel close to her still. 

Although I may be feeling a bit unmoored by her physical absence I do also feel absolutely grateful to have had her in my life as long as I did. It was such a gift and as many kind folks have wished for me and my family, her memory is truly a blessing.

Advertisement

Mother’s Day

First one without her.

Remembering

My dearest, lovely mother shuffled off this mortal coil, Sunday, August 15, 2021. There is so much I’d like to write about her, and I will in time, but right now my mind is full of sweet little memories I’d like to share, if I may.

My mom was so many things to me. She, of course, was the one who brought me into this world. Although I did let it be known that I did not ask to be born, during many a childhood snit. But that would get me nothing but a serious side-eye. 

She taught me many things but one thing I cherish most is her sharing with me a fascination with words. She had an impressive vocabulary and would often stump me with a turn of phrase. “Look it up in the dictionary,” she would say whenever I asked her what something meant. I would look it up, begrudgingly at first. But after a while it became routine and even fun. Words. Good.

About fifteen years ago I decided to move away from my anemic graphic design career and more toward illustration. Mom was my biggest cheerleader then. It was before Facebook and Instagram when I started this blog as a way to practice sketching and putting myself out there. My blog was being viewed by possibly three people at most. But every time I posted a sketch or an essay I could count on her to leave a little comment of encouragement or wit. Even after I began to build a bit of a community and started getting plenty of comments I was never really satisfied until I saw that Artsea Fartsea (her blog handle) had commented. 

My mom loved attending writing and art classes at Ventura Community College. During that time she started her own blog where she would post short stories, based on experiences from her childhood and her young life in the 40’s and 50’s. She also posted her wonderful acrylic paintings on the blog as well. A couple of bloggers we were and became a mutual admiration society for each other. Those were good days.

Mom was great at lending an ear and giving wise and caring advice, along with a nice, hot cup of tea. Although I didn’t appreciate this in my younger days, being the know-it-all I was, I eventually recognized the valuable counsel she was bestowing upon me. Nothing like tea and sympathy from your mom.

Her name was Marion but those closest to her, if you didn’t call her mom, referred to her as Mame, including herself. Myself, I called her Madre. It started in the 80’s for some unknown reason. I’m sure I thought I was being quite witty. Well, it stuck and she began signing birthday and Christmas cards as well as emails to me with the moniker. 

Madre and I never got together without going out for lattes before, after or during, (sometimes all three) any event. Her’s was a tall, extra foamy, breve latte, mine was a double short, non-fat cappuccino, but we just called it getting lattes. Every now and then we’d go to Palermo’s, our favorite cafe in downtown Ventura and order ourselves gelato. Nothing could put a smile on her lovely face faster than the notion of walking down the street, sitting in the little patio, people-watching and polishing off some of that yummy, frozen Italian dessert. In fact, the last time we spoke I had promised her we’d go get a gelato in a couple of days.

Sadly we were unable to. I did however head straight to Palermo’s on Sunday and ordered myself her current favorite flavor, half pistachio and half raspberry sorbet. You know, it never tasted so sweet. I was eating it for two I suppose. 

Pandemic Blues

I

I made a silly poem.

Fish Noir

RED HERRING

This week’s Illustration Friday theme is “red” and the first thing that popped into my addled brain was “red herring”. So I thought, hey,  I’ll redraw and repost this from a couple of years ago. What the heck, I’m on a roll.

Most mystery novel and film buffs know that a red herring is a plot device used in film noir, murder mysteries and suspense films, to distract the audience away from the more important aspect of the plot. The red herring can sometimes be a character, believed by the audience to be the killer, only to discover later in the film that they are innocent and another character, never even considered is, in fact, the murderer.

Now that you have your twist ending, do you know where the term red herring originated?

Wikipedia tells us:

A tradition whereby young hunting dogs in Britain were trained to follow a scent with the use of a “red” (salted and smoked) herring. This pungent fish would be dragged across a trail until the puppy learned to follow the scent. Later, when the dog was being trained to follow the faint odor of a fox or a badger, the trainer would drag a red herring (which has a much stronger odor) across the animal’s trail at right angles. The dog would eventually learn to follow the original scent rather than the stronger scent.

I’ve also heard that British fugitives in the 1800s would rub a herring across their trail, in order to divert the bloodhounds pursuing them.

All this talk is whetting my appetite for a bit of kipperes and toast (NOT!) and a Hitchcock film or two (YES!).

 

Voice

The Illustration Friday word of the week is “voice.” So I decided to redraw yet another oldie. I better get off my duff and come up with some new ideas I suppose, eh?

Post Holiday Doldrumoids

We’ve always known of their existence, but for the first time ever, caught in mid listless, despondency, is what experts commonly refer to as the Post-holiday Doldrumoid…in the flesh……or rather, in the doodle.

No matter. It’s official. We have a Doldrumoid pandemic on our hands. They are here and we have got to deal with them.

Some effective methods for coping with these ubiquitous yet unwelcome creatures are as follows:

1. Ignore them. Doldrumoids have been known to eventually lose interest in their host and reluctantly disappear after a week or two.

2. Keep that crunchy Christmas tree up for another month, along with the exterior icicle lights and the inflatable snow globe on your lawn. Do this while ignoring the fact that the holidays are over. This method seems to keep the Doldrumoids at bay, but leaves the door wide open for Lackus Deselfrespectus spors to take hold.

There are no easy answers, but…

3. For those of us who need to get back to business… pronto, there are some drastic measures that can be implemented. Take tree and exterior lights down, box up Christmas decorations, shove said boxes up in garage rafters, eat salad, go to the gym and then actually make that deadline for your employer/client as opposed to staring blankly at the computer monitor (close mouth, wipe drool off chin, mind don’t get any on the keyboard.)

In the event none of the above methods prove effective, one can always hold on until February 14 when a virulent strain of Guiltus Cupidus overcomes the weakened Doldrumoids, offering minimal relief to some sufferers.

This has been an important public service announcement. You may now return to your regularly scheduled program. Thank you.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Another redraw and a repost from a few years ago. Thought it might be apropos.

HoHoDooDa 2013 Day 14

Didn’t get a doodle done today because I was finishing up my holiday cards. (Yeah, it’s tradition to be this late, thank you very much!)

So although it’s a bit of a cheat I decided to repost this from a couple of years ago. Thought it might be appropriate.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

I love holiday cards. I love getting them, but most of all I like making them.

At least it starts out that way.

There’s the initial concept. Fun!

Sketching it up. Fun!

Drawing, painting, tweaking. Fun! Fun! Fun!

But then, there is the whole standing in line at the post office because I absolutely must have those special snowman stamps.

Followed by an attempt at addressing the cards and the subsequent admitting to people that I wrote their address on a scrap piece of paper last year and my cat batted it under the couch and apparently a spider drug it away to it’s nest, so could you pleeeeeeease give me your address for the fifteenth time… and I promise I’ll key it safely into my iPhone this time!

Couple that with the fact that I waited until pretty much the last minute, even though I promised last year and the year before that and the year… ok, the past ten years that I would start in August.

Before you know it, I’ve got a holiday card meltdown on my hands.

Does any of this sound familiar? Am I alone with this?

Anywho, fun? Not so much.

But despite the griping and moaning, after all is said and done, the truth is, it’s just not Christmas until I’ve sent off all my cards and, of course, I receive that very first card in the mail, be it Christmas, Hanukkah or Festivus (I’m still waiting for my first Kwanza card.)

I just love holiday cards!

It’s tradition! Every bit of it, from fun to meltdown and I hope it never goes away!

Now get yer elfin shoes over here to see what the other doodlers have in store for you!

SkADaMo 2013 Day 4

Aunt Anna’s Anise Cookies

I made anise cookies last night. I made them to share at my Illustrator monthly meeting’s holiday cookie exchange extravaganza today.

I chose to make anise cookies and this sketch (from last year), in memory of my sweet Aunt Anna who passed away last year, at this time and who’s recipe this is.

It was passed down to her from her mother-in-law of German decent. So they’ve been a family tradition for eons and my family became part of that tradition somewhere in the 50’s, I believe.

I suppose they are an acquired taste, what with that licorice taste from the anise and all. In fact my husband and niece both called them poison cookies until those lovely, seductive, little holiday shaped biscuits finally grew on them. But to say my family loves them is an understatement and now they’ve become an even more important part of our holiday tradition.

Anise cookies.

Anna’s anise cookies.

Aunt Anna’s anise cookies.

Thank you auntie, for being such a wonderful, loving person, my godmother and for leaving us with such a lovely, sweet tasting tradition. You’re always in my heart.

Hummingbird

mmIt was early morning and the sprinklers had just begun glitter-bombing the backyard. I was curled up on the couch with sleep still nested in the corner of my eyes, scrawling out my “morning pages.” Iggy, my calico girl, purred contentedly on one side of me, a steamy cup of freshly brewed coffee sat on the other.

Halfway through my writing, a loud THUNK startled me out of my reverie.

Iggy and I exchanged surprised looks and she joined me as I got up to inspect the patio ground for any possible stunned bird carcasses. The sound came from the French door window, so it stood to reason that one of our feathered friends could have taken a bad turn.

All was clear, or so I thought. As I began sitting down to resume my morning task, I could see from the corner of my eye, Iggy skulking back into the house with something tiny and limp in her mouth. Apparently in the stunned-bird-carcass-inspection department, she was superior to me in every way. But the involuntary scream that left my throat, stopped her in mid triumphant trot and caused her to

My Censor

I’ve been working with Julia Cameron’s “The Artist’s Way” with an online group since the beginning of the year. It’s been a wonderful, insightful journey so far.

One of the things you become aware of through the weekly readings, exercises and tasks, is the nasty, critical voice, nattering constantly inside your head.

The Censor.

The Censor continually does you the great service of letting you know how much your work sucks, how wrong everything you do is, and what a hack you are, just to name a few.

Ms. Cameron suggests one of the many techniques for dealing with this annoying denizen of your psyche, is to draw a cartoon version, in an effort to expose it and take away some of The Censor’s power.

So, to that end… meet my big, fat censor! Booooo! Hisssss! Oh, shut your pie hole Mr. Smartypants Censor.

I’m thinking, with any luck and continued work he will eventually lose some of his size and girth. I’ll keep you posted.

HoHoDooDa Day 2

Squeaking a super quick doodle in at the last possible minute! Spent the day running from one holiday even to the next.

Don’t you just love little kids performing Christmas singing shows? There’s always one taking it all very seriously. Then there is the one who pretty much phones it in. If you’re lucky, there’s the token ham, stealing the scene. And, of course, the one poor little guy who completely chokes. You can tell who he/she  is by the lack of singing or movement and the look of abject terror in they’re eyes. It wouldn’t be a Christmas show without them.

Check out fellow HoHoDooDa pals, Marion and Laura‘s fabulous posts (done at a reasonable hour today.) You wont’ be disappointed.

SkADaMo Day 8

When I was in elementary school… a gazillion years ago, we used to do this drill called “duck and cover.” You’d be in class, minding your own business, when a scary, air-raidy sounding alarm would go off. You were then expected to drop down to the floor, crawl under your desk and cover your head with your hands. This was a drill designed to protect you against a nuclear attack.

You heard me.

A nuclear attack. Duck and Cover. Mmmm hmmmm.

I guess they figured it was an easier position to be in to kiss your tookus good-bye.

Anywho, this here is a kinder, gentler, sillier take on the theme… probably just as effective too.

So, yeah, keeping up with the SkADaMo and the PiBoIdMo as well. Feeling pretty pleased with my bad self.

hibernate

EARLY RISERS

Conversation between my husband and I, a few years ago, after arriving at Sequoia National Park’s Wuksachi Lodge.

Linda: “Did we get all the food out of the trunk? I don’t want to wake up to bears raiding our car.”

Tom: “Yes, we got it all.”

Linda: “Are you sure? Because bears can smell any little thing. Even gum.”

Tom: “I think we’ll be fine honey.”

Linda: “Wait, there are some vitamin waters left in the cooler.”

Tom (slightly less patient): “It’ll be fine.”

Linda (becoming slightly shrill): “Bears can smell through plastic. Rangers told me that once.”

Tom: “Hold on a minute, it’s winter. Aren’t bears supposed to hibernate in winter?”

Linda: “OH YEAH! Hee hee. That’s right… whew.”

Linda: “… Wait! You know, there may be some early risers.”

Tom: “I’ll bring the vitamin waters in.”

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

When I saw the Illustration Friday theme this week was hibernate, I remembered a post I did back in 2008 while on vacation.

I remember, blogging almost every single day at the time and actually brought along with my laptop, a scanner, so I could scan and upload any sketches I did while at the lodge. Oh to be that committed again.

Anywho, I threw some color on the old sketch and reposted, once again, at the last minute.

layer

Apparently, to find out if the stranger you just invited in from the pouring rain is truly a real princess, you must hide a pea under layer upon layer of mattresses and feather beds and wait until the next morning to see if she noticed it.

Who knew?

I was a big fan of Hans Christian Andersen when I was a kid. That could be why the first thing that came to my mind when I heard the word “layer” is the bed that the very bruised, extremely sleep-deprived princess in “The Princess and the Pea” slept in. Either that or the way I have to dress, living in the ever-changing weather of Southern California these days.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

So, killing two birds with one stone, I threw together a sketch for Illustration Friday and an upcoming celebration we’re having, over at the Doodle Diner, of “Tell A Fairy Tale Day” on Saturday, February 26th. I’m hoping to get this all finalized and colorized by then! Also looking forward to seeing what my fellow Doodle Diners come up with!