More Useful Life of Things — What makes for good junk?

You know how you have stuff sitting around your house that’s not quite junk ’cause you might just have a use for it? And it sits around, sometimes for years until one day the magic happens. Then you don’t have to feel like a guilty hoarder any more because all of that rat holing was justified, ’cause LOOK WHAT I JUST MADE!!!!!

It all seems to make sense at one time. For us, the garden and parties supply a lot of the impetus. First, the garden junk. I bought four bowling pins at a junk store about 3 years ago ’cause they were a dollar and bowling pins are just cool. They found their way to a corner under the house. A year ago, when we were first putting in the garden, a friend had some shoe rods that were too good to throw away. She kept them for me. When I saw them, I concurred. I brought them home and put them in a corner of the garden shed.

This year the two neglected items came together. Who knew that that bowling pins had a hole in the bottom? I widened the hole using Dad’s bit brace and pounded a shoe rod into the bottom. Then we pounded the entire thing into the ground. They are now my new  hose bumpers. And since I have bowling pins in the garden, now adding the bowling ball made sense.

The other coming together was much more rapid. We found cast iron stork legs at the flea market for pretty much nothing. We had a broken ostrich shell which was too good to throw away, even when broken. Ta-da! A Tim Burton Style scarecrow.

Now the party-driven needs.

About 5-7 years ago a round glass patio table that we had for about 12 years met its useful end as a table. Cyrus, our 60 pound dog, leapt on it, collapsing it in a hail of tempered glass. No one was hurt. We put the table ring onto the might be useful someday too big to get in the garbage can pile. Time passed. Actually, quite a bit of time. We moved it around and looked at it but it never found a useful purpose.

This year is Eric’s 60th and we celebrated All Fool’s Eve as clowns are a favorite theme. The celebration required decorations. A happy coincidence that the blue rope lights bought for another purpose fit exactly into the groove of the table ring wrapped twice round. There was a need for a hole filler to fill the middle of what was now a blue lit hole.

I pulled out the canvas scraps that Mom had given me about 9 years ago. One fit. Now Harry stands above the gate to the yard. Although Harry first honored Eric’s birthday, he’s a permanent (or semi-permanent fixture.

What do you think the UPS drivers think when they drive up?

Oh wait, they’ve already seen the scare crow and bowling pins.

What would YOU do for $5?

Do you know about fiverr.com? It’s one of the great values of being connected to the web, of staying current with what’s out there and what’s happening. It’s also one of the benefits of having a brother who stays out there and stays current since he’s the one who told me about it.

Fiverr.com has a list of things that people will do in exchange for $5. The commerce system is built in so that you choose the offering you want and pay through fiverr. They manage the rest. There are micro-products and services from around the world. A cute kid will record a video of himself delivering your bad news, ’cause as he says, it’s easier to accept when it’s delivered by a cute kid. People will create colorful QR codes. They’ll build web intros. All for $5.

Fiverr may be one of the last great values. For example, I found someone who was willing to create an original cartoon image from a photo. . . for $5.

Here’s the photo

Yes, it’s a rare thing, in and of itself.

And here’s the cartoon.

And here are two things that the cartoon has become.

All for $5!!!!

What would you buy for $5? I warn you, you can get lost for a long time on the site. And it’s dangerous! I just published the post and clicked the link to make sure it worked. When I got to the fiverr site, someone had posted an offer on the front page for two pieces of  felt breakfast toast.

I DIDN’T KNOW THAT I NEEDED THEM. But they’re on their way to me right now. Sigh.

Circus mini-saga

Do you know mini-sagas? They’re 50-word stories that have a full plot. I forgot about them until last night, when we watched the PBS documentary, Circus.

Here’s one of my first:

Punished

The circus train paroled me early. When the clowns found me, they claimed me as family, trading my prison stripes for a red-nosed disguise. My small, canon-perfect body shot across the crowd two nights in a row.

Enough.

I leave in muffled darkness, eardrums shattered, sneaking away in oversized shoes.

You have one to share?

A great intro to Sketchnoting

I have looked at a post on Sketchnoting on this blog before, and today when I looked I found a new post with a great deal more info. If you’re interested in getting started with Sketchnoting there are some great ideas here. Plus, it’s very visually appealing.

The author suggests this TED talk as a great introductory exercise. I did it. Here’s the result. I’ll show you mine if you’ll show me yours.

Swimming in Dumpsters

Have you heard about this?

I was writing a learning module on imaging a positive future. While I was looking for icebreakers on futuring, I found this:

http://abcnews.go.com/Travel/park-avenue-dumpster-diving-york-dumpsters-summer-swimming/story?id=11360622

Talk about imagining a future!

Cathy’s Doodles

Not many words here. Just look at these wonderful images. They draw you right in.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Create a camel face symbol

Sometimes I develop visual  metaphors simply because I want to draw those images. Like this camel face. Once I learn it, I can use a camel to stand for many things . . . going long distances. . . carrying burdens. . . trekking through unknown territories, etc.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

1. Camels have a fat triangle nose
2. and floppy cheeks/lips
3. and a rounded head
4. with eyes on the side (because they are prey) and eyelashes that go every which way to keep out the sand
5. and rounded ears, that should have fuzz on them
6. and buck teeth just for fun.

Tomorrow, the body.

Camel. What else could it stand for?

Hopes and other junk

I found this doll’s dress at a junk store yesterday. It was hanging on a little hanger, mixed in with a myriad of other stuff.

As I carried it around the store with me, I pictured the grandmother who crocheted it and how she hoped that her granddaughter would adore it, all white and gold. I pictured the little girl’s delight as she imagined that one day she herself wear a dress that looked just like this one. Her grandmother might make her a thick cotton slip for modesty, but the skirt would still swirl in a full circle of white and gold.

I also found this book in a junk store. It’s called My Favorite Things (1964) by Dorothy Rodgers. I had to google Dorothy Rodgers to figure out why people should care about her favorite things.

She’s Richard Rodgers’s wife. The Richard Rodgers of Rogers and hart and Rogers and Hammerstein. Dot’s a bit of a forerunner to Martha Stewart, advising that when you have house guests, you should ask them if they prefer a breakfast tray to their room or coming down to breakfast. And then you tell the cook.

It’s filled with these lovely ink wash illustrations as well as photos on incredibly full rooms, with Miro’s on the walls.

Both of these items are hopes for the future.

Both ended up at Junk stores because they didn’t represent someone else’s hopes. And then I giggle about the hopes of mine that will find their way to junk stores — the box of springs that’s going to be something one day, ditto the tiny Tinkertoys and bags of plastic ducks and rubber fish. And Mom’s ribbons and trim that were too good to throw away that remind me of her hopes. And all those partial projects.

Would you recognize them as hopes?

Lessons on eating Ethiopian

You would think that I would have some photos for this, but no, I get so caught up in food that by the time I think to photograph it, it’s gone.

I cooked Ethiopian last night. It built over the course of three days, well, really more like 7 if you want to start with ordering the teff to make the injera (flat bread used as a scooping utensil).

Injera is like a pancake but it’s made out of a millet type flour called teff. It has to ferment and be fed for three days, which people say stinks like old gym socks but maybe that’s cause they don’t have a home brewer and aren’t used to the smell of yeast and fermentation. I thought it smelled good.

The batter is teff flour, a teeny bit of yeast to start the fermentation, salt to taste and water. FYI- teff is gluten free (well, it’s got gluten but it’s a different gluten), high protein and has a nice nutty flavor reminiscent of good whole wheat.

A learning tangent. .  . Injera is a learned art. I learned last night that I had the batter too tight and that the griddle should be REALLY hot or it will stick. And that all the light portions of the “pancake” should disappear before you remove it as done. I’m used to pancakes burning. This seemed not to burn. Again, that might be a factor of flours’ flash point.

To go with the Injera, I made Shiro Wat, Doro Wat and sauteed spicy cabbage (’cause I had some in the fridge that could become something new and different).

Shiro Wat is a chickpea stew. It’s chickpea flour stirred into sauteed onions, garlic and lots of oil with the addition of beriberi — which I made too. Where can I find fenugreek? How about paprika in large amounts since the beriberi called for 2 cups? I made a 1/2 recipe and put the leftovers in the fridge. But that’s a another tangent. The Shiro was fabulous!! Thick and creamy, like cream gravy only good for you.

The Doro Wat is a chicken stew, made with more beriberi and more paprika, and lots of onions and garlic. During the last 15 minutes, you add hard boiled eggs, one per customer, that are pierced all over 1/4 inch and rolled into the sauce.

All of this gets placed on the injera, in separate piles. Then you use the injera to pick up bites.

It was yummy!!! And wheatless. Although I didn’t miss the  wheat/bread, which is amazing.

Next time, the batter will be looser, I might add some chickpea flour to the Doro Wat to stiffen it a bit, I’ll make the Injera in a frying pan and not a griddle and I’ll move the pan like you do for crepe making. And I’ll invite you over ’cause now, I think I know what I’m doing.

Story

This is a post about trusting the process, more than about story itself. But, we’ll, you’ll see. For the past year or so I’ve been thinking about how powerful story is. Yes, I know that others have gone before me in this thinking, and much more deeply, but you know how it is, that until you hav the thought yourself, it’s all hearsay?

I’m also thinking about stories with vague points, rather than those that have an obvious lesson. When stories are both vague and interesting, we can find a personal point of connection to them. Vague becomes universal, right?

So, anyway. That’s not the story I want to tell; that’s merely the preamble. Here’s the story. No matter how new you are to story telling, stories work. And stories have a shape, a bell curve like shape. If you can keep that in mind your story will move better. My stories have a long initial entry, where I establish a lot of background. Then they have a punch line with a quick end, a very short tail. So when I look at the plot diagram, like this one

it might have a different shape for me. And I wonder what that means to my listeners.

So, what was my Rwandan experience with story? The program that I’m working with teaches community members to become self-sufficient, to build small/micro businesses based on their passions and strengths. We just did a pretty big rework of the train the trainer content. During the rework, we incorporated a lot of story. Story for instruction; story for demonstration of proficiency; storytelling techniques for advocacy. And we ask the trainers to tell their own stories of their future — to imagine it and then to craft it into a series of stories.

Story is as old as Africa itself. It might be because it is part of ancient fabric, it’s invisible. It seemed rare that people told stories, although Henry had some great ones. I hope he shares a few of them here. We’ll see. Or it might be because many of the people whom I met in Rwanda were young and stories are something that you grow in to. I don’t know. All I know is that when I hear a story, there’s a stop in me. Stories call me to attention.

I’m interested in the stories that leaders tell; I’m interested in improvisational stories. My father told wonderful, imaginary stories when we were growing up. I’ve tried my hand at it, but from what I can tell, mine have seemed shallow stories. Now I’m not so sure.

This is a very long lead in, see?

So, I was talking through the story telling exercise and someone asked me to demonstrate how the plot diagram worked. Hmmm. I needed a story to do it. And I didn’t pick a story that I knew, which might have been easier. I started from, “Once upon a time, there was a boy who walked 10 steps. . . ” It wasn’t a particularly good story, but from the first words, “once upon a time. . . .”  The room became quiet; still. In the silence you could hear the centuries roll back, time suspended.

When I stopped in the middle, my demonstration complete, people asked, “Then what happened?”

Try it. The sense of stillness and silence, of anticipation, of total attention is entirely captivating. And frightening. You hold the fate of your characters in your hands before an audience that already cares about them. It’s a rarefied thing, to have a group ready and willing to listen to you, to whatever you are able to create. Don’t test their patience.

The next time someone says, “Tell me a story,” do it. How many chances like these do you get?