This has been Sophia's Thanksgiving outfit since mid-November. The flowers are inside an antique sewing chest crafted by my late father-in-law Roy more than 50 years ago.
Sophia has suggested to me that I write a list of 25 things I am grateful for--and extended her suggestion to all of you. I'll work on that tomorrow. What are your plans for the Thanksgiving holiday?
I may not be ready for fall, but Sophia, the art mannequin is. I found a really cool black dress with autumn leaves on it and note the leopard skin waist and hemline. The dress was $5.99 and I got it at a half-off sale about a month ago at Salvation Army. Thrown over Sophia’s shoulders is a green shawl to warm her up on crisp evenings. Her head is wreathed in mums. My mom always had an abundance of mums in the fall in her garden and I planted a big terra cotta pot this year on the patio with rust and yellow mums in remembrance of her.
Since I seasonally decorate the house, I’ve been slow to begin the trade-out of blue and white silk flowers for the colorful autumn flowers, but did place a fall wreath on the door last weekend.
Everybody has a favorite season and summer is mine so I reluctantly let it slip through my fingers and psyche as the leaves begin to turn and even here in Southern California, the leaves are turning to flame and canyon colors. On September 22, the first day of the autumn season is celebrated: The Autumn Equinox. In the northern hemisphere that’s when the sun crosses the equator moving southward. In the southern hemisphere the sun crosses the equator moving northward on March 20. If one looks at the change of seasons with an eye to the cycles of life, fall symbolizes the harvest, middle age and ripeness.
The gardener trimmed all the big ficus trees in the patio on Friday, as he does each September, and he cut back the bouganvillea in the front yard—leaving a little “cave” or hiding place right up against the public, street side of the wall. If I were a kid again, I’d go get my friends Dannie and Claudia and we’d go sit in the secret place and tell tall tales.
But—I’m a self-conscience elder who goes to the secret place in my mind more than actually doing it. Now, if any other elders want to volunteer to join me, I'd have the courage to do almost anything. Lately I have been aware of how solitary I sometimes become.
Oh, by the way, what is your favorite season and why? That's always a good writing and discussion prompt.
Finally Fran changed me out of that wedding gown! I wore the
darned thing for six whole weeks while she went gallivanting around, pretty
much forgetting all about me. It's really bad form to bring a mannequin into your family and then ignore her. The worst of it was that she never found a groom
for me, although she says she’ll have one for me when I wear the gown next
year. I can only hope it’s the James Dean full size cut-out that Fran keeps in
her TV room.
If this is your first time here, I’m Fran’s art mannequin and my name is Sophia. Fran has always loved dolls and I suppose I’m just another steppingstone to reach back into the childhood she says she would love to live over again. Fran grew up in a family that had limited money and her mom made most her clothes. She's always had a thing for fashion so I think I help her live that fantasy, too. Ironically, she dresses way too casually for my taste.
As for me, it’s better that I stand perpetually in Fran’s living room than in the warehouse where I was kept after my last store closed down two years ago. I’ve lived at Fran’s for a whole year already and she dresses me differently each month, depending on her mood and what she finds at the thrifts and estate sales.
I lived for several years in Ultra Bettie’s vintage store in downtown Torrance and then the economy went downhill. But, there’s a story in my family that I used to be one of the mannequins in Saks Fifth Avenue in Palos Verdes; it moved away from there many years ago. My cousin Rafaela says we both used to be in the old May Co. on Wilshire Blvd. in L.A. before that. So, for a long time I was dressed in posh designer outfits and I had a sense of mystery about me, or at least that is what I’ve been told. One sales girl at Saks gave me a surprise scent every week; she worked in Perfumes. My favorite was Michael Kors and coincidentally that’s Fran’s favorite scent, too.
The thing that Fran doesn’t know, although her dog Cookie does, is that my life is a little like the toys in The Velveteen Rabbit—or the artifacts in that movie “Night in the Museum.” Fran is a very late stayer-upper, but when she finally shuts off her light between midnight and 2 a.m., I come alive. I have a lot of adventures—some in Villa Redondo where I live, but I’m also able to visit a lot of the hot spots in the South Bay.
Fran loves this brown-red wig on me best, but I have three wigs actually and many, many disguises. One of these times I’ll tell you about the time I got to go on a party boat out of Marina del Rey.
This dress is from the Redondo Beach Salvation Army and it’s actually in Fran’s size although she has yet to try it on. She says her glamour days are over, but I think she is wrong. I’m working on helping her to see herself as I see her. She’s very hard on herself.
That's a photo of my face and my arms in what appears like an awkward position. My permanent stance does limit what Fran can dress me in. I wish I were more flexible, but this is how the mannequin factory made me. What's a girl to do? Now, when the lights go out---
So, do you have any mannequins in your family? Do you have any questions you would like to ask me? I am Sophia, and Fran says I am her own Goddess of Wisdom.
It's a beautiful day in Southern California--a good day to marry, I'd say. Sophia, my art mannequin agreed and though she's been wearing her gown indoors since June 1, this afternoon we went on a field trip to my patio yard so I could photograph her in her special dress.
Sophia's dress was an incredible find at a Manhattan Beach estate sale a few months back. It's a size 6 Jessica McClintock, complete with veil and headpiece. Guess how much?
$10! Such a deal! The dress is about 25 years old, I was told, although no one seemed to remember at the sale who had gotten married in it. I'm guessing it might have been a daughter's dress or a granddaughter's. I still have my mom's wedding dress (1918) and my own wedding dress (1958) and being the nostalgic pack rat that I am, I'll leave it to my kids to sell at my estate sale--hopefully many years in the future. I can't dress Sophia in either dress as they are both long-sleeved and her arms are rigid. She wants me to assure you, however, that her personality is not.
Speaking of estate sales, I managed to squeeze in two between a Saturday morning Mac Users Group meeting and my afternoon work assignment at school yesterday. The family at one of yesterday's sale agreed to donate all the books and media they hadn't sold to the Palos Verdes Library where I volunteer. But they wanted to donate them immediately. My little Honda Civic EX (also named Sophia) is filled to the brim with their donation; I'll deliver them all to the library tomorrow.
But back to Sophia. Here is her lovely face and her blue iris bouquet. Blue iris were my own mom's favorite. At her feet are blue hydrangeas and sweet peas, my favorites.
By the way, in both of these photos, please note the little silver dog bone in the upper right hand corner. That's part of Cookie's very own bird feeder.
I am no longer filling any of my bird feeders, however, because the squirrels and the roof rats like bird seed, too. We didn't throw rice today; it would have caused a havoc with the local wild life.
Yesterday I wrote about the Blue Man Group, my affinity for blue, my reticence to post entries on the blog, and introduced you to my nephew who looks great in blue.
Simultaneously, I realized it was time to redress Sophia, my art mannikin, and at the Torrance Salvation Army on Saturday I found her a nice spring dress with shades of blue for $5. Yesterday at the Redondo Beach S.A. I found a gossamer blue scarf for $2. She likes blue, too. The necklace is mine and so is the flower clip in her hair.
The sun was out the entire day and I spent three hours in my patio garden this afternoon mopping up from winter. All the patio furniture is back out, plants pruned, re-potted and discarded where appropriate. Next will be a visit to the garden shop tomorrow to bring in new bedding plants. My mood elevates dramatically when I can dig in the dirt again.
I cleaned out my bedroom closet today and bagged several sacks full of clothing I am never going to wear. I'm not quite ready to bring out the spring clothing until it warms up more, however.
My neighbor Ryan visited tonight; he is a great handy man and I'm having several things done around in the house in the next few weeks, including a new ceiling fan in the bedroom and a new water heater.
Sophia, the art mannikin, is wearing her first of her spring outfits, this one is periwinkle blue chiffon, spring flowers in her hair, one of my herd of rabbits (my favorite one actually with a little kid voice reciting "Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep"), and my pink and blue lion power animal necklace.
Lordy, I remember way back when that my own body looked like this--and I thought I was too skinny.
The bench by the dining room table is occupied by the rest of the herd of rabbits. Who says you have to be totally mature when you're 71?
Cookie, though mildly indignant, posed for a Welcome Spring photo. You should
have seen her in the yard with me today, hunting for the patches of sun
to stretch out and snooze in. Life is very good today.
Be prepared to toast on St. Patrick's Day!
Sophia, my art mannikin, Cookie, and I will mix something or other up today.
Raise your glass and toast your Irish friends with one of these phrases from Slainte on the History Channel.
May your fire be as warm as the weather is cold.
Health, and long life to you
Land without rent to you
The partner of your heart to you
and when you die, may your bones rest in Ireland!
As you slide down the banisters of life may the splinters never point the wrong way.
May you get all your wishes but one,
So you always have something to strive for.
May your blessings outnumber
The shamrocks that grow,
And may trouble avoid you
Wherever you go.
Here's to your coffin...
May it be built of 100 year old oaks which I will plant tomorrow.
May your neighbors respect you,
Troubles neglect you,
The angels protect you,
And Heaven accept you.
May the best day of your past be the worst day of your future.
An old Irish recipe for longevity:
Leave the table hungry.
Leave the bed sleepy.
Leave the bar thirsty.
May you live to be a hundred years, with one extra year to repent.
May you never forget what is worth remembering,
Or remember what is best forgotten.
May you be in heaven one half hour before the devil knows you're dead.
May you have the hindsight to know where you've been,
The insight to know where you are,
and the foresight to know when you've gone too far.
May you have warm words on a cold evening,
A full moon on a dark night,
And the road downhill all the way to your door.
May God bring good health to your enemies enemies
May you never make an enemy
When you could make a friend–
Unless you meet a fox among your chickens.
And if you are still in pretty good shape after your toast, you might want to try this History Channel Irish Quiz. Let me know your results. I got 6 out of 10. My knowledge of Ireland mostly comes from my priest and nun friends--and my dear Mary Lou.
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