What Am I At Now?

….or Still Making Stuff.

I’m trying to get a few things finished before the grand migration. First up is a basswood relief carving which will adorn the back of my kitchen sideboard. (I think the sideboard originally had a mirror but was replaced with a piece of plywood with a gold swan decal.) The inspiration for the carving came from a book about the lumber industry in my area in Nova Scotia. Don’t look too closely please.

Mess hall, camp kitchen, and a cup of tea in the woods.


Dining with his horse.


And here’s another 3″x4″ sketch of the day:

Karaoke night at the Mexican restaurant.

I’m currently in a non-productive phase and whiling away my precious time by watching back episodes of The Great British Bake Off. Pastry porn at its best.

© Judy Parsons 2018

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Easter Down South 3

…..or Happy Easter

Down at Florida Seaside Villa

Randolf: This is the best Easter ever. Want to trade this big blue egg for ten of your little ones?

Kendra: Hmmm, maybe you shouldn’t have eaten all yours before breakfast.
Randolf: Aw come on. Fifteen then?
Kendra: No less than twenty.
Randolf: Deal.
Kendra: Golly, I can’t believe Grandmother and Grandfather are still perpetuating gender stereotypes with the pink and the blue.

Meanwhile, over at the trailer park:

Randy: Best Easter ever. Can’t wait to show my buds the alligator, snake and turtle eggs I collected.
Candy: You bet. But the mall bunnies were kinda weird.

And for once, the Florida Seaside Villa folk agreed.




Happy Easter, wherever it finds you. 

© Judy Parsons 2018

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Easter Down South 2

….or Company in the House

Down at Florida Seaside Villa

Samuel: Wherever did you find that Dad?
Lancelot: Designed it and built it myself. Takes a little while for the colours to wear off after Easter but we love the rainbow scrambled eggs. Best stay outside the fence now, the girls can get a little aggressive from the steroids.

Judith: So what are you all up to these days?
Tamara: Oh my God, we’re so insanely busy with the kids. I hardly have any time for my book club.
Judith: Oh, I’m in a book club too, we’re doing Hillbilly Elegy. What book are you doing?
Tamara: Oh we don’t have time to read a real book; we just bring in our used magazines and throw them on the table and  then we drink wine and eat sex-in-a-pan. It’s the only night I have to myself – the kids need so much schlepping.
Judith: Oh. What are they in?
Tamara: Well, Randalf refuses to be in anything that doesn’t start with a B. He’s in basketball, beach volleyball, the Mysterious Benedict club, and biathalon. He had to drop badminton because it clashed with baseball.
Judith: (eyes glazing over)  ..and Kendra?
Tamara: Oh she’s only in Irish dance, chess club, hockey, and toastmasters and Tai Kwon Do, brown belt don’t you know. I don’t know what we’re going to do next weekend when her Foosball tournament is on at the same time as Randalf’s 50 mile bike race and Samuel refuses to miss his Diogenes club……pour me another generous glass of that chardonnay would you, please and thank you.
Judith: (shouting) Honey, where are the grandchildren? It’s almost time to take them to get their picture with the Easter Bunny.

Lancelot: They’re in the playpen I built them. Just got to fill the hen’s water dispenser and then we can go.
Samuel: Any chance of sampling a little of this first?

Randolf: I can jump it if you can. Just climb down onto the honey-pot.
Kendra: Okay. But I don’t have my epi-pen. You got yours?

Kendra: You feel kind of creeped out?
Randolf: Yeah, like we’re being watched or something.


Henny: It’s a girl!!

Penny: Wow, girl, that would be a golden egg if it wasn’t pink! And you’d never pass the drug test.
Henny: My bum hurts.

Meanwhile, over at the trailer park:

Joodles: So he loads ’em up on skittles and steroids.
Tammy: And the hens don’t mind?
Joodles: Heck no. Least not until they see the turkey fryer comin’.

Fenny: Mighty nice egg thar’.
Jenny: Yeah, but my ass hurts.

Candy: Daddy, why do they call it an egg hunt when you can see all the eggs.
Sammy: I dunno, go ask yer Pappy.

Lannie: Well sweetie, it’s not so much about huntin’. It’s all about who can get the eggs before the gator gits em. Or gits you.

Randy: S’okay Sis, I got this. This’ll jam up his jaws fer sure.

Tammy: I can’t watch!!

Candy: Can I have this one Pappy?
Lannie: Okay, but only fer decoratin’. Them big ones is not so much for eatin’. Yer Grandma ate one last year and she grew a beard and a third ear.

Stay tuned ……

© Judy Parsons 2018

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Easter down South 1

…..or Company’s A’Comin’

Down at Florida’s Seaside Villa:

Judith: Honey, can you come give me a hand to put the leaf in the table. Tamara called and said they’re bringing the kids over for Easter.
Lancelot: In a second dear, gotta check on the chickens.

Lancelot: Oh my little pretties, save your appetites. Have I got a treat for you.

Henny: What’s Mr. Fancy-Pants doin’ up on the roof of the coop?
Penny: Fixin’ up our special Easter cocktail – champagne laced with steroids and food colouring.

Lancelot: Heh, heh, this’ll get those little pullets a peckin’.


Meanwhile, over at the Trailer Park

Joodles: Git yer car parts out’a the spare room. Sammy’s on the phone; they’s bringin’ the youngsters up from Tampa fer Easter.
Lannie: Better go get the chickens goin’. Or will Missus Fancy-Pants eat eggs that didn’t come in a carton?

Joodles: What are ya at? They’ll soon be here and the spare bed is covered with bumpers and alternators.
Lannie: Just gotta plumb in this Easter fountain. Traded the passenger door of a 1969 Mustang Mach 1 for it.
Joodles: You had one job to do…………

Candy: Wow. It’s just trees and mailboxes and more trees.

Randy: And snakes and hogs and turtles and possums. But mostly snakes.

Tammy: Now no talkin’ about politics or religion or relatives or work.
Sammy: That jes leaves gators, guns and NASCAR.
Tammy: No talkin’ about guns.

Stay tuned for more Easter adventures.

© Judy Parsons 2018

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What are Ya At Now* 3

…..or Still Makin’ Stuff

Last year I posted pictures of two stained glass panels I did. They were of two corners of my Grandmother’s kitchen; a place very near and dear to my heart (oh dear, that’s so cliché); a place where I never felt anything but loved. This winter I completed the other two corners:

Doo doo doo, lookin’ out Granny’s back door.

The wash-stand by the pantry.


Here’s the quick message my sister sent after I showed her the panels:

“This piece makes me feel all warm and cozy – life out the bay – Newfoundlandy – non-stressful  way of life. Visiting Granny: always seemed to be sunny and soft there, bright sun rays glinting off the water in your eyes, rocks to climb over, bluebells to pick, birds always singing up in the hill where the well was, Grandfather and his Orange Crush, Granny always busy inside, or sitting in her rocker with those bowed legs crossed at the ankles, a welcoming place, best salt water view from the house on the rock, bowls of brown and white eggs (one staler, one fresh), smiling granddad who came and went so quietly to the “Kwap Store” (co-op) I remember Grandfather washing his face in a pan of stale water on the washstand. How often was it changed I wonder. Can still smell it. And in the tiny pantry there was a bin which fascinated me. I always thought she kept flour in it but that’s probably wrong.  You pulled the handle towards you and it just pulled forward right from the floor in a V shape.”

Thanks Sissy. For the record I think the funky smell came from the shaving brush. I vaguely recall that v-shaped cupboard but not what was in it. My favourite thing was the wooden box on the wall with the little drawers and the pincushion on top. I know she kept her post office key in one drawer and I always longed to see what was in the others but was too short to reach them and look. Bet I’m tall enough now but the house is long gone.

As a reminder here are the two panels I did last winter:

So now that Granny’s kitchen is complete I’ll have to move on to other things but I am reluctant to leave that place – I could write a book about those memories. Hey, maybe I will some day.

© Judy Parsons 2018

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Happy Valentine’s Day 2018

..from the South.


Judith: I’m so excited, I haven’t been to a fair in years.
Lancelot: Me neither. Wonder if you can still win a Kewpie doll.

Lancelot: Dang it, should have known better than to buy a used car from “Mostly Good Cars”. She’s not gettin’ her gas. Must be the solenoid.
Judith: Oh dear, and on Valentine’s of all days. Do you need a hair pin or a nail file this time?
Lancelot: It’s okay, I think I got her now.

Judith: Thank goodness. I’m not too sure about this neighbourhood.

Judith: The fair was such a great idea.
Lancelot: Wish we could do this every evening.  Happy Valentine’s dear.

Judith: Ooh thank you Lancelot; this was the best Valentine’s day ever!!

Meanwhile down at the trailer park:

Joodles: What are we doin’ fer Valentime’s?

Lannie: Aw Crikey. I was just about to lift the engine in our new car. I would never have bought a car at Mostly Good Cars if yer brother didn’t own it.
Joodles: Well I wants to go to the fair.
Lannie: How we gonna get there?
Joodles: We can hitch-hike.

Joodles: Wheehee, ride ’em cowboy. This is the best time ever!
Lannie: It’s all rigged I tells ya, the games is all rigged.

Joodles: That was so awesome! I won a horse, a bear and a toilet plunger. Best Valentime’s ever.
Lannie: Only cause your other brudder runs the games. It’s all rigged I tells ya.

♥ Happy Valentine’s Day wherever it finds you. ♥

© Judy Parsons 2018

email comments to jgparsons@judypstickletrunk.com – that’s the only way it works.

What Are Ya At Now* 2

……or W’as Goin’ On Now? #2

To which I reply “Same ole t’ing, maid, same ole t’ing. Makin’ stuff and den eatin’ some of it. Eatin’ a lot of it, to be shore.” Like these Coconut Milk Sweet buns I made yesterday in my thrift store breadmaker using my thrift store breadmaker cookbook.  Big buns. I had to rush most of them into the freezer so I wouldn’t eat them all before I went to bed.

Also working on my drawing skills. This is a colour pencil sketch from my sketch a day journal although it was not drawn on the day I saw it, but more recently from a photo I took with my phone at a Saturday afternoon session at a Cape Cod pub on my way down here in the late fall. I call it “Margaret’s Drink.”

That’s our friend Bill playing a pocket-sized banjo. I guess they are trying to make them small enough to hide now, but do what you might, you can’t hide the sound of a banjo of any size. It would have been a lot easier to draw IF THEY WEREN’T ALL WEARING PLAID! Just sayin’.

* “What are ya at?” is a Newfoundlander’s way of asking “What are you doing?” Not to be confused with “Where’s ya to?” which means “Where are you?”

© Judy Parsons 2018

Email comments to jgparsons@judypstickletrunk.com

What Are Ya At Now?*

…..or Anyt’ing Goin’ on, or What?

So what am I at? Depends on when you ask. If I started listing it could seem like I am doing a lot but if you were to poke your head in the front door, chances are you would find me playing Scrabble on my phone. By the way, phone Scrabble is the best because the phone plays it’s word instantly but you can take as long as you like with yours. The downside is that it ruins you for playing with real humans because it will let you guess at a word without penalty. That makes it a good practice tool if you learn from your mistakes. Sadly, I can’t recall from one game to the next which two letter words are real or not so no benefit to me. The other downside is that it won’t acknowledge many Newfoundland words, like, hmmmm, there goes my memory again, I can’t recall a single example even though I encountered two incidents just hours ago. Sigh. What was I talking about anyway? Oh, what I’m at…

Well, mostly buying things and making things. Sometimes the two go together. Like this example:

I bought this Lodge cast iron pan at the thrift store so had to make cornbread to justify the purchase. We needed something good to go with the cornbread so I made rouladen.

Turned out tasty but tough. More often Lance makes the stuff and I eat it. He made roast duck.

I needed something for dessert so I made one of my new favourites, baked pears with Amaretto and Amaretti. (Amaretti are little Italian almond cookies. I found them at Winners) I’ll give you the recipe at the end. (I found the recipe in an old thrift store magazine – hope I’m not infringing by passing it on)

But I was talking about buying stuff. I buy way more stuff than a person needs but it keeps me out of trouble. Like this picture which cost me all of $4.50 at a thrift store.

If you know me, you know I don’t do beige so I painted the mat and the frame and now it is hanging in by bathroom.

I bought a lifetime supply of embroidery cotton for four bucks and a book by Jimmy Buffett about a pig; priceless (I say that without having read it yet.) When I’m not buying stuff or making stuff I’m thinking about making stuff, like knots and boats and slipways. If I were to have made a New Year’s resolution it would have been to spend more time making and less time thinking. But anyway, here’s a recipe:

3 TBLSP Amaretto liqueur
1 TBLSP balsamic vinegar
4 pears halved lengthwise and cored (I used 2 and a smaller pan, and a little less water)
1/3 cup water
4 amaretti cookies
Preheat oven to 425°. Put vinegar and liqueur in 9×13 baking dish and add pears cut side down. Bake for 15 minutes then add the water (I don’t know if you can do this with a glass dish without breaking it – I used metal pan) and bake for another 10 minutes. Arrange pears on plate cut side up. Crumble half the cookies over the pears then spoon pan juices over them. Crumble remaining cookies on top and serve. If you are worried it doesn’t have enough calories, add a knob of good quality vanilla ice cream.

© Judy Parsons 2018

* “What are ya at?” is a Newfoundlander’s way of asking “What are you doing?” Not to be confused with “Where’s ya to?” which means “Where are you?”

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…..or Siiiiigh (which is a prolonged sigh)

I have on my kitchen wall a small decorative light to remind me of where I am from.

After the shenannigans of the American president started to become more and more outrageous I decided that every time Donald Duck did or said something heinous, or ignoble or outrageous, I would turn on the light to remind myself that he is not “my people”.  I call it my Trumpicator.

Lately there has not been no opportunity to turn it off and since Thursday it has been burning a friggin’ hole my wall!

All I can do is sigh. Last evening I watched the new Netflix show “My Next Guest Needs No Introduction” with David Letterman and got a little emotional. At least we know they are still out there. Sigh.

© Judy Parsons 2018

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On the Twelfth Day of Christmas

…My True Love Gave to Me….

Down at Florida Seaside Villa

Lancelot: Come on down honey, I got just the thing for your headache. (Heh, heh, this twelve pack ‘ll fix her right up.)

Judith: Is it individually packaged? Expired? From the flea market? Made in a third world country by child labourers?
Lancelot: Yes, no, no, and no my lovie.

Judith: That hit the spot.
Lancelot: Nothing like a little hair of the dog.
Judith: Oh sweetheart, you know me so well. But just for the record, I really don’t want a gift for Valentine’s Day.

Meanwhile over at the Trailer Park

Lannie: How’s the head, ducky?
Joodles: Not good.
Lannie: Well here, I got these off the internet. “Giant sized pills for giant sized headaches” they promised.
Joodles: I’ll take two right now.





Blue: Man, this place gets stranger ever’ day. I gotta be movin’ on.

Lannie: How’d they work out?
Well the headache’s gone but I just had the weirdest dream!!
Lannie: Anyone seen Blue?

On the twelfth Day of Christmas My True Love Gave to Me
Twelve “Best” Medicines

© Judy Parsons 2018

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