We set up a new fake tree the day after Christmas and my friend Eileen helped make a funky flowered girl with butterfly wings for the topper. We felt happy to be crafting together and silly to be doing the tree thing late. I always wanted the Christmas tree up until after my birthday and Eileen, who shares my birthday and is a good catholic girl, explained epiphany and little heathen that I am I went along with it so I could keep my tree. Well, no one wanted it down and so it has become a holiday tree, a real holiday tree. Speaking of good catholics, I’ll need to make some fabulous ornaments for St. Patrick’s Day. My Irish great grandmother, Gran, was like a mother to me and my sister. She always had a bedspread with green leaves and purple flowers that she said reminded her of Ireland. So, I’ll probably throw in some purple flowers and maybe make some blarney stones with kisses on them. My best St. Patrick’s day memory is from when I was living in an apt in a huge old house on Magazine at Camp in New Orleans.The parade came by and drunken singing people threw cabbages and potatoes. I filled my tie dyed skirt with them, went back inside and cooked an Irish feast. Interesting asides: that apt had been turned into an art gallery the last time I was in New Orleans. Gran filled her skirt with tomatoes when I was a kid and we have a great picture of her with her skirt filled up and revealing her slip. You know, she wasn’t a good catholic, she was a good woman, an independent woman of high morals who decided for herself what was right for her life and she felt the church was stepping out of bounds and quit attending mass in the seventies.
Well, I did not make it through the whole day and ended up passing out after my shower and not painting or even making up the bed. Just crashed on the foam cover and was out for hours. I made more lil critters and watched the Olympics. Maybe I’ll be all better tomorrow.
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