“Big Boucherouite” here. Yes, you read that right. I AM the large rug that she’s currerntly hooking. Constantly. At least it feels that way. I hardly ever get alone time. Anyway, as she’s still working on me day and night, I decided to provide a few notes regarding where she’s at in this project.
See what I mean about the dog? Oh, and that idea of strategic photography?
She’s been watching a LOT of television during the day. I tried to tell her to get some books on tape, but she goes on and on about having to get through a NOVAback-up, that she’s got to free-up space on the DVR. Fine. Her husband, of course, insists on watching them with her, though I’ve noticed that he tends to use them to catch up on his sleep.
NOVA sounds nice and erudite, sure, but that wasn’t on till midnight last night. No, that would be…Ice Castles. Yes, the Robby Benson movie from 1978, when she was 13. Apparently, she even read the book back then. It was on some TV station for lost movies. Some movies should remain lost…
She does take some breaks. It seems to be rather necessary. Hooking so much woven fabric is taking a toll on the joints. As is sitting under me. I’m rather heavy at this point. I tell her to do some yoga. Does she listen to me? Sometimes.
She’s still going on and on about not having enough orange sheets to fill my background, that she had to breakdown and use t-shirts. Who gives a damn? That they’re used textiles being recycled to a higher purpose – me! – it’s fine. That’s the Boucherouite spirit.
Her dog keeps sitting on me determined to earn a snack. Someone needs to tell him that she’s barely taking any photographs of me. I deserve a BIG REVEAL and not until I’m properly hooked and hemmed.
Lastly, regarding actually finishing me in order to enter me into Albuquerque’s Fiber Arts Fiesta by the March 1 deadline, let’s hear it for the idea of STRATEGIC PHOTOGRAPHY. And you all make sure that your submissions are in by sometime Friday too.
Look for my debut on Instagram and Facebook in the near future, and I’ll see you May 30 and 31 and June 1 at Fiber Fiesta!
Can’t we ever just walk by weird things? Of course, not. (I remind you of the Uranus Fudge Factory she made us stop at in Missouri.) Notice she’s holding my head so that I’ll look at the camera. Anyway, this is Hatch,across the street from the famous Sparky’s Restaurant with its aromatic smoke.
Tynan the traveling dog back for a third week! Woof! Unfortunately, the idiots have no plans for us to go anywhere anytime soon. Bummer. But, as promised, I thought I’d catch you up on our Arizona trip, show you how I added a state to my repertoire, as it were.
If you’re not all caught up, check last week’s post, a quick summary of the trip, then sit back in your armchair while I drive for a change.
We left Albuquerque on Thursday, January 2, by about 10:00. The time was more tailored to ensure lunch at Sparky’s in Hatch, the chile capitol of the world. He’d never eaten there. Me, I got to sit in the car while the smoke coming from all those burgers and pork wafted in through the cracked car windows strangling me with its perfect aroma. It was not an auspicious start for the trip. In retaliation, when they waddled walked me around later, I peed on Sparky’s. Not my finest moment, I admit, but peeing on my people really wouldn’t have worked. Then they made pose for pictures in front of the kitschy stuff near the restaurant. Whatever.
At last we were off again. It’s a long ride to Tucson, and I snoozed through most of it. Finally, we arrived at our destination, the Best Western-Tucson Foothills. Apparently, she and my lady friends from the Adobe Wool Arts Guild (AWAG) prefer this place when they make their annual pilgrimage to the Old Pueblo Rug Hookers Hook-In. (Hook-in, yes they really call it that.) There is a reason for their fealty to this particular hotel: free booze! Yep, the place provides a gratis happy hour (more like three hours), and you know they aren’t passing by that. Wouldn’t you know it, we arrived during sed happy hour. So off to the “cafe” we go thinking the idiots will pick up a glass of quaffable, free wine and sit outside or, more realistically as the sun was already going down, head back to the room to drink then argue over who would go back to get the next round.
Best Western-Tucson Foothills: Four paws up for the comfy bed. Pity the master kicked me off every single night once his World of Warcraft character bit the big one (over and over).
But then the beautiful bartendress sees me, and she says these magical words: “Oh, he’s so cute, Of course, he can stay.” She caresses my chin and whispers, “Would you like to go home with me? I can give you your own downy hotel bed, barbecue on demand…” Sorry, I digress there, maybe fantasize a bit. The point is I was invited in to happy hour all weekend. Nice touch, Best Western-Tucson Foothills. Oh, especially, that popcorn machine. Loved the popcorn machine!
Drinks drunk, we head back to the room so the idiots can rest. (Wow, tough day: eating, driving, and drinking.) Anyway, he takes over the desk with his laptop; she and I claim the bed. This traveling dog is really starting to love human hotel beds. They’re lower than the one back home, and they’re BIG! She doesn’t care if I take 2/3s of it. Very comfy.
On the way up to Mount Lemmon in the Coronado National Forest. Check out all the crazy saguaro cacti! Have you ever seen so many in one place? They even constitute a cactus forest!
Next day, we’re off to Mount Lemmon, Tucson’s tallest mountain. Back maybe 16 summers ago, they were vacationing in Tucson, checking it out for possible future residence. They tried to drive up but were turned back by officials. The mountain was on fire. Not this time! Of course, we had to drive in stops and starts since she had to take all her freaking pictures. Fortunately, there was some pretty spectacular scenery. And I got to get out of the car!
A saguaro close-up.
The topography changed on our way up to Mount Lemmon. The cacti gave way to juniper bushes and then pines. There were interesting rock formations on the way up. You could climb on them!
She captured this old tree for her friend Karen Miller of Karen D. Miller Studio in Ontario. I know why I’m fascinated with trees, but them????
This is the view looking over Tucson from near the tree. Quite…expansive.This is what a skiing area looks like in…Tucson. We saw three people ski across that hill. Three. Can you say “ice”? Unfortunately, the rest of the road to the top was blocked here with snow. No telescopes for us. But we got pretty close.The master after a fine lunch at the Iron Door Restaurant across the street from Mount Lemmon Ski Valley. Notice that I am not in the photograph. Perhaps someone should alert the authorities regarding how often they leave me in a vehicle while they stuff their faces.After lunch on the mountain, the pudgy ones decided to work some of it off with a hike. I’m always good with that. And unlike them, I miss snow, so this was a fine activity.
That night, my AWAG ladies finally showed up at the hotel. At happy hour, of course. Mary R. brought me gifts, and…the popcorn machine was working! Nan watched me while the idiots went for food. She let me on her bed. I love Nan. Plus, she brings toys for me when she comes to our house.
Saturday morning, we drop the mistress off at the La Paloma Country Club for the hook-in. Looked like a swanky place for something with such a stupid name. He tells her not to spend so much at the silent auction this year. Right. (Later she called not breaking $100 a win. He did not.)
Back to that day, he decides to take us to some park; he’s already forgotten the name. (At least she wouldn’t have done that.) We get out of the car. Something is not right. He wonders why I don’t want to do the usual who-peed-here sniffs, but something smells really bad at this park. “Come on, ” he tells me not particularly patiently. He calls me squirrely, mocks me with that word. But I’m trying to tell him, I think there are f-ing rattlesnakes here! They paid for me to have that hateful training, but it did work. I smell their dirty asses (not that I’m exactly sure where a snake keeps its ass). Finally, he’s fed up with me; we turn around. There is a god! We head back to my favorite Best Western. Frankly, I think he just wanted to get back to his stupid laptop and World of Warcraft. Whatever, I got the bed to myself.
That night we do happy hour with the girls again. Folks fawn over me especially when they hear what he did to me. I appreciate that. Sunday morning we’re off for home. She gets an idea that she wants to take a different route, not the one we came on. He’s skeptical, but of course, she wins. We turn the car to the north. At first it’s nice, sleep-inducing. We stop at McDonald’s for their “quality” brunch, then get into some more remote country. I’ll let the pictures (she took soooo many) tell the story.
Excuse me for waxing poetic, but you have to drive around this great country of ours to really appreciate how big and beautiful it is. This is El Capitan Pass in Arizona. Things were getting pretty desolate out here, and no, there was absolutely no cell service to call AAA. (We were in another rental; he didn’t dare risk driving his ancient Honda Accord on this trip. She wouldn’t have let him forget it if the damn thing broke down.)Okay, this killed about an hour, but she insisted it was worth taking all the photos then hanging at the visitor center. While they’ve been to and even hiked down the Grand Canyon farther north and west, they didn’t know crap about the Salt River Canyon. It and the many switch-backs it took to get down to the river were admittedly impressive.A view of the Snake River down at the Visitor Center.
A view of us practically under the old and the new bridges where Route 60 crosses the Snake River. How many of pictures can one person take of the same thing?
Of course, can’t live without a shot of the river on the other side of the bridges.
And yet another one of the Canyon after we’d crossed the bridge and started to climb out of the Salt River Canyon.Finally! We get to something in New Mexico! And it was suitably impressive. These cliffs and rock formations were in the El Malpais National Monument. (They didn’t know anything about that either.) Driving through there was even more desolate than going through Arizona. Again, thank God for the rental car!Incredible as La Ventana Arch is, she didn’t spend a ton of time outside, though she still took way too many shots. It was cold and windy; she was dressed for Tucson. Ha! It’s always good to wear just one outfit your entire life. Me, I’m ready for anything in my naturally red and white fur coat.
At least we made it home before dark, and now I’m coming to terms with my lack of hotel beds and popcorn machines.
She’s still not letting me sit on her current rug, the “Big Boucherouite,” and get a treat for sharing it with you, but she’s got this tiny photo for you. Looks like all the others if you ask me
Tynan the traveling dog
I hope she’ll let me come back again sooner than later. I enjoy sharing my travels with you. And you make good witnesses as to how the idiots treat me.
Rugs on the frame are the thing this week, peeps. We’re busy, busy, busy. Not only is Christmas coming, and the tree’s not finished, but a student will be here Wednesday and Friday too. Then tomorrow I’m at a friend’s for a day of dyeing wool for my friendship rug (more on that later). Okay, Cathywill be doing more of the dyeing while her five new puppies distract Melinda and me. Who can resist baby dogs??? No worries, I’ll take some pics. Maybe even a couple of the wool-dyeing.
Are you ready for the holidays? Have time to work on your rugs? How do you feed your creativity during this often frenetic time of year???
Tynan brings you the “rugs on the frame this week.” Despite being sick – I’m only feeling truly human today, thank you – I managed to do some work on both “Kleeful” and the “Big Boucherouite” last week. The latter is off the Anderson frame because it became a pain in the neck to use. One leg pulled out from the base, and one side wouldn’t keep the rug as tight as I need. So, it’s onto the Puritanwe go. Bet that’ll be fun when I get to the middle…
For now, though, enjoy the aforementioned eye-candy from the Water shows.
Where you can find fiber arts eye-candy till June 3. Go now!“The Gorge/Water Cycle” by Judith Roderick. Hand-painted silk art quilt. The picture can never do this justice, but note how the bird is also part of the gorge.Close up of “Blue Water of the North/Feng Shui Series” by Donna Loraine Contractor. Wool on cotton tapestry.Oops! How did my own piece slip in there? 🙂 “Memory of Water” is hooked with plastic bags on monks’ cloth.
“Leaves and X’s in the Ice” by Nancy Wohlenberg was made using a discontinuous tapestry technique; four selvedge technique. Love this!Heidi Anderson felted alpaca and merino wool to create: “”Water is Life Seed Pot” on the right and “Olla” on the left. so cute!Part of “Germinating” by Linda Rael. Dyed fabric, stitching.
A close-up of Linda Rael’s “Water is Life.” Dyed, painted, stitched, and found objects.
“The Day Begins” by Linda Rael. Hand-dyed and recycled fabrics, found objects. This crane really “stood out.”
“Mayordomo” by Linda Rael. Mixed media. “Mayordomo” is the guardian of the acequias or the water ditch master.
A close-up of “Rain Dance” by Linda Rael. Stitched, beaded doll.“Mountain Snow,” a handmade felted coat created by Vicki Anne Evans. Lovely, but I put that on, ketchup will drop from the sky right onto my boob.
“Novena for Rain” by Catherine Kelly (and my friend and Adobe Wool Arts guild mate. Multi/fractured piece of traditional rug hooking, felted wool, yarn, and beads.
And lastly, though not the best shot, Cathy and myself in front of her piece. Perhaps we’re really the fiber arts eye-candy… Regardless, I still think that they should’ve had wine at the opening reception. Your thoughts concerning beverages at art receptions: wine versus ice water with stupid lemon slices. Let me know in the comments.
You know, when I lived in New England, we never combined Cinco de Mayo and rug hooking. Rarely even margaritas and rug hooking. We ain’t living in Kansas Massachusetts any more, señor! Saturday, Cathy Kelly and I will be under our joint tent selling rugs (and doing demos, of course) at the 11th annual Cinco de Mayo Folk Art Fest here in Albuquerque. If you’re local, stop by. It’s happening right at La Parada and Farm & Table. There’ll be music pretty much all day, and Farm & Table will be offering food and beverages on their patio. That would be where the margaritas come in. And if I don’t manage to get one there, Tom will have one or three waiting for me when I get home. Woohoo! (And, trust me, he doesn’t skimp on the tequila. His margaritas are yet another reason that I had to marry this man.)
While technically it’s not on the frame, this week’s “What’s on the frame” offering shows that __________ (no name decided on yet, hooked with recycled bedsheets) is almost done. Just have to sit down to hem it. That WILL happen much sooner than later as it must be ready for sale at Saturday’s Cinco de Mayo Folk Art Fest. Hope to see you there! The weather’s supposed to be warm and sunny.
