Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Sandy: Spared and not Spooked

I am very grateful and relieved to relay that my little Attic, building, and neighborhood were spared most of the ravishes of the hurricane (aka FrankenStorm aka Superstorm aka the Sno'eastercane) known as Sandy.

Although I was up in CT visiting ye old homestead, Grumpa Max, Jenn, Wendy and Ms. Emily, the forecast was dire enough that plans were cut short so I could return to NY, unload my rental car, return it, and get on one of the last MetroNorth trains before the system was frozen. I was able to get all my emergency supplies of candles, soda, bread, and Diet Coke tucked away next to the food storage tins Dad brought East from the land of the 72 hour kits, fill the bathtub, make sure the freezer was full of ice, have the cooler ready next to the water supply, and to sit and wait to see what Mother Nature would wrought.
I even took pictures of the local river and highway so I could do before and after shots. In previous storms, the river has flooded the highway and trees have come down. 
The Bronx River
Having prepared as much as I could, I 'hunkered' in. The most scary part in the early stages was making sure that Dad was able to fly out of Hartford and back to Vegas. His was one of the last flights out Monday morning, much to everyone's relief. Especially his. (Next time, I believe he will be packing more than just a trip's worth of medication -- WON'T YOU DAD!?)

The waiting is what begins to get on your nerves. The pressure literally plays havoc with your brain. I had the worst migraine until about 9 p.m. on Monday - the day we got the brunt of it. However, I have learned one of the best things to do is actually turn off the television and radio for the most part, and to use common sense. Don't go outside. Don't go near the windows. Take all the potentially flying debris out of Mother Nature's way. Prepare. Be Calm. Carry on. Then don't be stupid when things look to be over. Stuff actually is more dangerous in the 6-36 hours afterward.

I can't say that all of my neighbors quite get this. The stupid upstairs neighbors, they of the illegal fire-escape Christmas lights, still hadn't taken them down, from last year, and they were unfastening in the wind, swinging down, and BANGING on my windows until I went up and pounded on their door and told them that I was going to pull them off if they didn't freakin' take them down -- HOURS into the hurricane winds. STUPID STUPID STUPID! I am still annoyed at the upstairs stomping neighbors, but I was more 'understanding' of the people on my floor. Understanding enough to be prepared to be the Crazy Craft Community Children's Entertainer for the 5 kids of varying ages on my floor if the power had gone out. When talking to one of my little neighbors, I asked what she was going to do if the power went out. She didn't know. She doesn't like to read. She didn't have games or puzzles, so she was just charging her iPod and hoping. Now ... Please. That's just ridiculous. I remember being her age in a hurricane and being shut in, but I knew how to entertain myself then, and now! I said fine and told her and her mom I had a plan. If the power went out, I had scissors, paper, pens, stamps, stamp pads, yarns, and stuffing, and we'd set up in the hall under the emergency flood lights with candles and have craft time. We'd make Christmas cards, work on snowflakes for our doors (we always have a "contest"), learn how to crochet, and make it a party -- thus entertaining the kids, charging their imagination, distracting them, giving them and their parents a break. I am kind of relieved it didn't come to it, but I know if it does, I  ... need more crafting supplies to be part of the storm prep, as well as batteries and candles.

Luckily, although we had some scary power flickers, we never lost cable, the Internet, or power. I was able to text, tweet, e-mail, and call people all day and through today. The winds were crazy, but the rain and winds have been worse for other storms. I also don't live near the ocean and am far enough inland that we were spared. I only found out tonight about how lucky this building was -- the one right next door is without power. Let's hear it for post-WWII brick low-rises. They may shake and sway in the wind, but for this storm at least, she held together.

I can't say the same for some of my NYC colleagues' situations. I'm sure the newscasts and photos don't do it justice. I know that some people of certain ages (those 20 somethings) had absolutely NO idea what to do with themselves when the power was out, or how to prepare, or how to deal with things even now. This may have been their first hurricane, now that I think about it. A lot of them lost power. Many are stuck in Brooklyn, Queens, and lower Manhattan with no way, for now, to get to work. (They may, or may not, be unhappy about this.)

I did venture out on Tuesday to assess. The river didn't overflow it's banks and the highways (as far south as I could see) have no trees down on the roads. The only real damage to my neck of the woods was in our strip mall. The main CVS sign is gone. The Dunkin' Donuts was closed so none of the local cops could stock up, even though the Starbucks was open. The 7Eleven was out of important things like chips, bread, and ice, and the papers couldn't get delivered, but the guys were calm, cruising through Lotto ticket sales, and charging people's cell phones and mobile devices.

School for the local and NYC kids was cancelled through the week. The Big J was closed for classes and staff on Monday and Tuesday. By today, classes were cancelled but staff were encouraged to get in if they could.


The NYC transit system is a mess! Luckily I commute through mid-Town and the Upper West Side which was spared, but the transit system wasn't even beginning to assess until late today. People did try to drive in, which apparently TOOK HOURS.

I spoke with my supervisors as early as Sunday and basically said I was going to work from home, as I could, until the situation stabilized, with a guesstimate of Friday ... maybe ... trying to get back. Guess what? I was right. I *might* deign to go to the office on Friday, but given that most of my work is in a database or e-mail? Welcome to the 21st century; I'm working from home!

Once things calm down I will be talking to my database colleague about our emergency back-up plan, for the server and the back-up of the back-up. The organization got lucky this time. We might not be next time. We're not that many blocks from the Hudson River and just lucky it "surged" mostly down-town and not that far in-land.

The only major bummer for the neighborhood kids was the apparent town curfew. This sign appeared on one of the doors on our floor. (Yes, the typo is driving me absolutely crazy.)

Which was too bad. There were some cute decorations put up in anticipation of Halloween. Mine is the one on the left -- all from my trash/recycling.

Usually I dress up as Ms. I'm-not-home or The Grumpy Neighbor Lady Who Doesn't Answer the Door. This year, since the kids knew I was home, I had to come up with a costume and go buy some candy, since I didn't think they wanted apples and/or granola bars. I did have a stash of Cyclops hats,
and then I remembered I had this t-shirt from years and careers past.
So I was a Scary Children's Librarian - threatening to SHUSH or hand out apples but really handing out NERDS to those kids who wanted candy. I purposely bought the NERDS. I figured I might as well give into the stereotype. I had one 10 year old lace-clad-goth-vampy girl that I intentionally gave the apple to and said, "Use this and say you are the cover of the Twilight novel." Luckily she hadn't read it, but the mom totally got the reference. Which is fine. I think 10 is still too young for the first Twilight novel. Why set her up for disappointment? Edward is .... well, let's not get into that right now. (Go Team Jacob! or something, I like The Host the most.)

Had I had more time, these are what I wanted to get together for my trick or treaters. I saw these at a bake sale/craft fair in Chelsea when I was running around earlier this month, and of course, wanted to "borrow" the idea. Clear catering gloves, some Tootsie rolls, M&Ms, Swedish Fish, and microwave popcorn. Healthy, unique and creepy. NEXT YEAR!

So that was my experience with Sandy. Lots of prep, lots of supplies, luckily no loss of power, life, or limb, and a few days off and then working from home. I am very very very fortunate indeed.

Please extend your prayers to those snow bound, or those further south in New Jersey and part of New York City, and up into New England, that were ravished by rain, floods, and fires. They will need your thoughts in the days ahead.

As for me, I will be giving blood at a blood drive on Friday (pre-scheduled, but now urgently needed), taking brownies into thank some of the MTA information/technical crew that hasn't been home since Sunday, and possibly donating some perishable supplies to a local food bank.

Be prepared.
Be smart.
Be calm.
Be a Good Neighbor.

For more on hurricane preparedness, please refer to this information prepared by the Red Cross at:

I will also be browsing the aisles at Paintball, Food Storage, Violins and More in St. George a little more carefully this coming Christmas vacation.

Retroblogging: Chicago Trip 2012, Art Institute

Is it me, or does some curator have a weird sense of humor? 

Art Institute of Chicago, January 2012

I think it's just me.

Sadly, for this Halloween, the one on the left doesn't seem to be on display anymore.

Gustave Caillebotte
French, 1848-1894
Oil on canvas
29 x 21 in. (73 x 54 cm)
Major Acquisitions Centennial Endowment, 1999.561

Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Retroblogging: Chicago Trip 2012, Art Institute

Art Institute of Chicago, January 2012

Isamu Noguchi
American, 1904-1988
Miss Expanding Universe, 1932
113.9 x 88.6 x 15.2 cm (40 7/8 x 34 7/8 x 9 in.)
Bequest of Ruth Page, 1994.833
© 2012 The Isamu Noguchi Foundation and Garden Museum, New York / 
Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York

 This is fabulous piece that merits more contemplation, but apparently isn't on display anymore. Check back here for more details and her status.

Monday, October 29, 2012

Retroblogging: Chicago Trip 2012, Art Institute

Art Institute of Chicago, January 2012

Jackson Pollock
American, 1912–1956
Greyed Rainbow, 1953
Oil on linen
182.9 x 244.2 cm (72 x 96 1/8 in.), unframed
Signed and dated: recto: "Jackson Pollock 53" (bottom right in black paint); verso: "Jackson Pollock / 53" (upper left in black paint)
Gift of Society for Contemporary American Art, 1955.494
© 2012 Pollock-Krasner Foundation / Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York 
For more information, click here.

Sunday, October 28, 2012

Retroblogging: Chicago Trip 2012, Art Institute

Art Institute of Chicago, January 2012
 What? Really? You know, sometimes I just don't "get" modern/contemporary "art."

 Kari more closely examines the "art"
 and follows the directions. What a good art patron!
Of course, then we had to schlep that rolled up piece of "art" all over Chicago and the trains.

Felix Gonzalez-Torres
American, born Cuba, 1957–1996
"Untitled" (Silver Beach), 1990
Offset print on paper, endless copies
50.8 x 66.4 x 58.7 cm (20 in. at ideal height x 26 in. x 23 in.)
Through prior bequest of Marguerita S. Ritman, through prior gift of Lucille E. and Joseph L. Block; Sara Szold and Marjorie and Louis Susman Funds, 2005.19
© The Felix Gonzalez-Torres Foundation. 
Check back here to see when this interactive piece of art will be back on display.

Saturday, October 27, 2012

Retroblogging: Chicago Trip 2012, Art Institute

Art Institute of Chicago, January 2012

Leslie G. Bolling
American, 1898-1958
Sister Tuesday, 1934
Painted poplar
h: 33 cm (13 in.)
front: "Sister Tuesday"
back: "L.G. Bolling/3-10-34"
Through prior acquisition of the George F. Harding Collection; restricted gift of Charles C. Haffner III, 2009.582

For more information, click here

Friday, October 26, 2012

Retroblogging: Chicago Trip 2012, Art Institute

Art Institute of Chicago, January 2012

Thomas Schutte
German, born 1954
Bronze Woman No. 17, 2006
Bronze and steel
204 x 125 x 250 cm
Through prior gifts or bequests of Leo S. Guthman, Fowler McCormick, Albert A. Robin, Marguerita S. Ritman, Emily Crane Chadbourne, Florence S. McCormick, and Judith Neisser; restricted gift of Per Skarstedt; 20th Century Purchase and Robert and Marlene Baumgarten funds, 2011.293
© 2006 Thomas Schütte.
She's so fierce. You should see the whole piece ... 
Sadly, she doesn't seem to be on display right now, but check back, via here.

Thursday, October 25, 2012

Retroblogging: Chicago Trip 2012, Art Institute

Art Institute of Chicago, January 2012

Arnold Rönnebeck
American, born Germany, 1885-1947
London Wedding, c. 1924
35.6 x 15.2 x 15.9 cm (14 x 6 x 6 1/4 in.)
Signed: A. RONNEBECK Sc (second step edge)
Marked: KUNST-FOUNDRY N.Y. (rear top base)
Roger and J. Peter McCormick Endowments, 2004.490

Home Sweet (Dreams) Home

Tonight I’ll go to sleep in my childhood bedroom, probably for one of the very last times.

I walked in, dropped my many bags and cares down, and just sighed deeply – inhaling the distinctive smell of "home" -- one that has welcomed me in since the summer of 1981. I can almost feel the house sighing with, and embracing, me. 

I’m so comfortable in this oddly shaped room, with its lack of right angles, its slanted creaking wooden floors, and nooks, crannies, dings and dents. There’s the wall where my bed was placed; where my brother and I used to tap out messages to each other in our own code. There are the four large windows where I looked out on my corner of the world, out over the treetops where I imagined I saw mythical creatures. Windows that let in fresh air and so much sun-, street-, and moonlight, so I could read after the official “light’s out.” There is the tiny closet, a vintage, period-appropriate feature of the house, which still managed to house a teenager’s growing wardrobe – 1980’s shoulder-pads and all. Over there is the corner where a bookshelf housed not only my burgeoning library, but where my childhood toys gave way to tokens from friends and high school beaus, and then, in turn, gave way college catalogs that helped shaped my future. 

These memories are overlaid by fading snapshots of other scenes. While my eyes take in the current neutral stripe of the wallpaper, I still can almost feel the roses of the vintage raised velvet pink and white pattern that faded to beige and disintegrated with age while I grew up. Another long blink replaces my remembered view of a utilitarian fold-out table with older memories of the hours spent at my childhood writing desk in one spot in the room, and then just as quickly flickers to other, later memories of my grandfather’s desk tucked behind the door -- my mother’s bill-paying spot. If I turn too fast, out of the corner of my eye, I can almost see and hear the ghosts of childhood slumber parties just there, over there -- where now resides the fold-out couch I’m not-quite-looking forward to laying these “mature” bones down upon.

This lovely room, the largest of the bedrooms on the second floor, “straight ahead at the top of the stairs; don’t forget to duck” served so many functions. After my first two years of college, it began to house more of the family. One brother temporarily claimed it as his own, before he too was out of the house and on to new adventures. Then it served as my father’s office, as he needed a private sanctuary to counsel his flock and deal with all of the administrative work inherent in decades of church service. It was the gathering spot, above the football fray, for many a riotous Thanksgiving gathering, where women of many generations sat and gossiped. It became a guest room at holidays and breaks, Dad’s computer and computer-part equipment room, Mom’s storage room, a filing room, and my landing pad – always a safe haven to come home to – for any of its wandering former occupants.

The house is essentially empty now. The furniture that remains does so that the building is not totally vacant. (Or, in the instance of this massive fold-out couch, because it was so difficult to get it in, that it’s someone else’s problem to get out.) But it’s not really empty.

Throughout the house, but most especially in this room where I spent so many formative years, if I close my eyes and listen closely – I can hear the walls, windows, boards, and beams creaking back an echo of all the love and laughter and antics of my family and our friends. This place is a part of us, of who we were, of who we became, of who we are still becoming. We may have left, but in a sense, we will still remain. I know this place will always have a piece of my heart, even though I didn’t live here nearly as long as my parents. Despite that, our time here left an imprint – on us, and on the soul of the building. 

Although I've other trips back here since my parents moved away and we've waited for the next chapter to begin for this heritage house, this weekend is probably the last time I’ll sleep under its roof– and sleep in “my” bedroom. Despite the bittersweet poignancy of this realization, I know I’ll sleep safe and sound, and have sweet dreams, because …


This place?

There’s just no place like home.

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Retroblogging: Chicago Trip 2012, Art Institute

Art Institute of Chicago, January 2012

Vinyl letters on wall
56 x 137 cm (22 x 54 in.), installed
Gift of Coosje Van Bruggen and Claes Oldenburg, 1982.402
© Lawrence Weiner

More here:

Tuesday, October 23, 2012

Retroblogging: Chicago Trip 2012, Art Institute

I am so far behind on blogging on things, thanks to the business/busy-ness of my life, that I STILL haven't blogged about my epic Mid-Western/Chicago trip in January to see Kari and her Krew. So I'm just going to have to do things out of order.

We're going to focus on the Art Institute outing with Kari for a while, and highlight some of the works that jumped out at me for one reason or another. Where ever possible I've tried to get the information from the Art Institute's website so I can remember who made the work and learn more about it. It's in no particular period/acquisition/importance order. I'm just going to post as they come up, though some of the more macabre *might* show up around Halloween. Just 'cause.

The Art Institute of Chicago Main Entrance, c. January 2012
My gal Kari, also c. January 2012! (in the bathroom, sorry about that!)
We wandered, we talked, we pondered, we poked, we pretended, we pretensed. It was super fun, although by mid-afternoon our back hurt from all the stuff we were carrying and our legs/feet hurt too. I documented ... So I'm not in the photos ... Cause I'm smart like that!

Vincent van Gogh
Dutch, 1853-1890

The Bedroom, 1889

Oil on canvas
29 x 36 5/8 in. (73.6 x 92.3 cm)
Helen Birch Bartlett Memorial Collection, 1926.417

Edward Hopper
American, 1882–1967

Oil on canvas
84.1 x 152.4 cm (33 1/8 x 60 in.)
s.l.r. Edward Hopper
Friends of American Art Collection, 1942.51

Frank Lloyd Wright
American, 1867-1959
Avery Coonley Playhouse: Triptych Window, 1912
Clear and colored leaded glass in oak frames
Center panel: 35 1/4 x 43 in. (89.5 x 109.2 cm)
Two side panels: 36 x 7 3/4 in. (91.4 x 19.7 cm) (each)
Restricted gift of Dr. and Mrs. Edwin J. DeCosta and the Walter E. Heller Foundation, 1986.88
© 2012 Frank Lloyd Wright Foundation / Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York

Pierre-Auguste Renoir
French, 1841-1919

Woman at the Piano, 1875/76

Oil on canvas
36 5/8 x 29 1/2 in. (93.2 x 74.2 cm)
Inscribed at lower left: Renoir
Mr. and Mrs. Martin A. Ryerson Collection, 1937.1025

Vincent van Gogh
Dutch, 1853-1890

Self-Portrait, 1887

Oil on artist's board, mounted on cradled panel
16 1/8 x 13 1/4 in. (41 x 32.5 cm)
Joseph Winterbotham Collection, 1954.326
Unknown 20,
Claude Monet
French, 1840-1926

Houses of Parliament, London, 1900–01

Oil on canvas
31 7/8 x 36 1/4 in. (81 x 92 cm)
Inscribed at lower right: Claude Monet
Mr. and Mrs. Martin A. Ryerson Collection, 1933.1164

Tamil Nadu, Nagapattinam

Buddha Seated in Meditation (Dhyanamudra),
Chola period, c. 12th century
160.0 x 120.2 x 56.3 cm (63 x 47 5/16 x 22 3/16 in.)
Restricted gift of Mr. and Mrs. Robert Andrew Brown, 1964.556

Felix Gonzalez-Torres
American, born Cuba, 1957–1996
"Untitled" (Golden), 1995
Strands of beads and hanging device
Dimensions vary with installation
The Art Institute of Chicago, through prior gift of Adeline Yates; San Francisco Museum of Modern Art, through prior gifts of J. D. Zellerbach, Gardner Dailey, and an anonymous donor; and the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, New York, through prior gift of Solomon R. Guggenheim; partial gift of Andrea Rosen, in honor of Felix Gonzalez-Torres, 2008.400
© 1995 The Felix Gonzalez-Torres Foundation.

We wanted to stop where and sit and maybe get a cuppa, but these architecturally interesting chairs didn't look comfortable.

And I didn't know how to break in, sneak these out, and then ship them home without getting smashed to bits.

To be continued.

Monday, October 22, 2012

Spotted on the Streets: What is Art?

I finally got to break away from my desks, my computers, my office, and my Attic, and spent a recent gloriously warm Indian Summer Saturday roaming the City with friends. I forgot to warn them that I've been using my walking tours to discover "art" in the odd nooks and crannies along the way. With thanks to my wandering buddies for the "Wait, I just want to ..." and the odd snapping of photos.

You have to remember to pin down the little unexpected moments when you find them ... say in Chelsea.

It's so easy to walk right on by the little educational moments the City has to offer. What looks like graffiti or layers and layers of stickers on the ubiquitous utility boxes or construction scaffolding could be important learning opportunities.

I want to add these as avatars for this blog, for example, because ... well. Do I really need to explain why?
Spotted on the Upper West Side
Or about The Shushing Librarian?
Spotted in Chelsea or between 21st-14th Streets/9th - 5th
 You have to keep your eyes open for the magic (tilt your head), or take the moment to adjust your preconceptions, and puzzle out the true meanings. The one on the right took us a moment, because we had this stuck in our heads.

This is only a piece of the whole mural which took up the side of the building. We had to guess that it was for a business, and by golly ... we were right. A little tiny, Mom&Pop-esque neighborhood institution of a hardware store. I should have popped across the street to get the whole mural, but alas. 
 The whole side of the building is in contrast to this little door jamb at street level on 14th Street. The Aliens are among us, and they have their own hipsters. I blew this up, so you can see the imagery hovering above the Men in White.

I wish it was still light at night for the evening "rush" walk back to the train. I bet the seasonal weather would keep people off the streets so I could take more photos.

Sunday, October 21, 2012

Auntie Nettie's Attic Merchandise 2012 - September

May you live in interesting times:

I think someone "blessed" me so that as 2012 passed -- things have only gotten more "interesting." Life in September got very busy (as you probably have seen from the lack-of blog posts) and I have to look back a lot of pages in what passes for my diary to remember what the heck happened -- aside from my jobs totally taking over.
If I'm reading my scrawls correctly, September:
~ Started off on Labor Day weekend with me "laboring" - helping out my friend Cynthia tackle a garage cleaning assignment that was on a hot muggy day full of poopy natural surprises. (Though I have super fond memories of eating a delicious omelet with chorizo, cilantro, and tomatoes ... MMMM.) What is the incubation period for the hanta virus, because I know I ingested mouse poop in a few forms that day. Seriously. YUCK!

I also:
~ Crocheted some of the baby bibs you'll see below, while sitting in the dark during Convocation for work. I knew I was getting to the point where I didn't have to watch what I was doing while watching t.v.. But now I know I can also crochet simple things in the dark with the lights out.
~ Had a lovely unexpected dinner with Christine in the City, to try and catch up with work/life before we got swamped by the incoming tide of change. So glad we did. October got WORSE - for both of us!; 
~ Cleaned out some of my kitchen stuff, including scrubbing decades of accumulated gook off pots and pans so to donate to the next generation of chefs (my work-study students); 
~ Missed brunch and baby shower plans due to illness, inclement weather, and geographic impossibilities; 
~ Cleaned, purged, watched television a lot on the weekends to catch-up, called to family/friends -- all necessary as I was about to be caught up in what we'll call "Hurricane H*******" aka the aftermath of an unexpected star-studded memorial/fund-raising event wherein it was "organized" by "amateurs" who had no idea how to coordinate guest lists and then it took over 22-different spreadsheets of data to be entered for over 700-1000 individuals, each with variations in proper spelling/contact information/relationships into my company's database into a coherent form. So. Yeah. That took weeks of research, 12-14 hour days, and juggling of deadlines, egos, priorities, and what I'm calling the 5-stages of frustration. There was anger, bitterness/resentment, denial, then grudging acceptance, and finally a horrible dose of gallows humor. (I kept track of hours, and OMH the comp and OT that I am owed -- if I only had TIME to take my comp time!) Then I had to interact with the oblivious, the obnoxious, the defensive, and the self-congratualory ... well ... 

Let's jut say GRRRR and that:
I also:
~ got sick during all this;
~ ate all wrong; 
~didn't sleep right;
~barely remembered to pay my bills on time; or
~send birthday/anniversary cards out; or to
~have the energy to go to Maker's Faire this year.

I felt the worst about missing friends and Maker's Faire. I bought a ticket and everything. But between the work stress, hours, and the sheer exhaustion, the one or two days I didn't have to work, I just didn't have the energy to muster up to head to Queens and be surrounded by people.

Little did I know that parts of October ... 

It's not just me ... is there some weird celestial misalignment going on? Is Mars in retro-grade? WHAT IS GOING ON?

It's good thing I have SOME sort of therapy outlet I can only imagine I would be WORSE off mentally, and that's saying something.

So -- yeah. Maybe you can see a theme to my crafts this month? It veers from being full of love for the new lights in the family that are due in a month or so, to be wildly optimistic and seeing love and hearts everywhere, to being bird-brained and thinking that every one is a monster.

Or something! 

In any event, here are the many creations from September including:

Baby Shower presents for Phineas and Ferbina

ANA 2012: 66 and  67: Pink and Blue square "ribbed" washcloths for the twins
(Lily Cotton Sugar 'n Cream 4-ply cotton) 
 ANA 2012-70 and 71: Pink and Blue bibs for the twins
(Lily Cotton Sugar 'n Cream 4-ply cotton and buttons)
Details of the fastenings: Two loops, depending on the size of their little heads/growing bodies 

ANA 2012-72 and 73: Pink and Blue round washcloths for the twins (in back of rounds)
(Lily Cotton Sugar 'n Cream 4-ply cotton)
ANA 2012-74 and 75: Mini camo owlies 
(left: 74, fledgling; right, 75, grey-eyed adult) 
(Miscellaneous mystery acrylic and left-over wool)
  ANA 2012-76: Maroon stripped mini owlie
(Miscellaneous left-over acrylic yarn and batting)
ANA 2012-77: Fuchsia pull-over with pink hearts and XOs 
(Red Heart and left-over miscellaneous acrylic yarn types) 
(as of 12/13 no longer available, gifted)
ANA 2012-78: Fuchsia pull-over with purple hearts and subtle accents 
(Red Heart and left-over miscellaneous acrylic yarn types) 
(as of 4/14, no longer available, sold)
ANA 2012-79: Fuchsia mini (or skull cap) with two hearts (pink/white)
(Red Heart and left-over miscellaneous acrylic yarn types) 
(as of 12/13 no longer available, gifted)

ANA 2012-80: Black Cyclops hat, with horns 
(Red Heart and left-over miscellaneous acrylic yarn types) 
(as of 4/14, no longer available, sold)
ANA 2012-81: Black Cylops hat, with horn and bulging dilated green eye - Rolled brim
(Red heart and left-over miscellaneous acrylic yarn types) 
(as of 11/2013, no longer available)
ANA 2012-82: Black Cyclops hat, with horns and bulging green eye
(Red Heart and left-over miscellaneous acrylic yarn types) 
(as of 11/2013, no longer available)
Alternatively, if you don't a bulging third-eye in the middle of your forehead, you could flip these around and have a Janus-head thing -- and freak out the people walking too close behind you.
Still in progress; 

3 mini owlies
1 pink afghan

 2010: Yeah, Yeah, Yeah. Didn't you read all about the sagas of the last few months? It's amazing I got anything done ... at all!

Regarding the shop: I think I've come to the conclusion it ain't happening this year. I just can't see me finding extra time to dedicate to it this year, especially given my travel plans from now through ... well 2013! However, if you see something on here, let me know, so I can see if it's still in stock, and not somewhere else, and give you an idea of prices.