Growing and crafting gourds is one of my hobbies.  I am a "gourdhead", and a member of my local Gourd Society.  I wanted to share a few of the crafts I have made.  I have never sold any. They are just a way for me to enjoy being creative.

This tiny gourd necklace won a first place prize in the Gourd Society competition. It is decorated with knotless netting and beads

The faery cap is decorated with pieces of gourd & gourd seeds. Unfortunately, the iridescent glitter doesn't show up in the picture.

This little bird or faery house has a roof made with pine cone  pieces.

The top comes off this one, and I use it as a bread basket to keep tortillas warm. The color is made with leather shoe dye, and the black designs are wood-burned. This won a second place ribbon.

My gourd frog, "Francesca", is a kid favorite!  She is made all from gourd pieces, including the flowers on her hat.

This is a decorative gourd I made in a workshop, where I was learning to stitch different reeds onto the top.

And last, but not least, my turtle, "Pickles", made from a maranka gourd.

I wrote this for my friend's daughter who is quite imaginative and loves all things fairy.

Come  With

We're on the road to Faerie

To Faerie we will go

Where apple trees all blossom

Beneath the falling snow

And if  we should encounter

An ugsome beastie there

We'll make a nest of spider webs

And stick that beastie in our lair

Then braid his hair with ribbons

and twirl him 'round and 'round

We'll send him dizzy on his way-

He won't know where he's bound!

We're on the road to Faerie

To Faerie we will go

Where sunrays spangle midnight

And blooming orchids grow

Across the shadowed woodland

As never to be seen

By mortal eyes through darkling skies

Be ever in sweet dreams

So skip along with me and sing

Ignore the stares and whispering...

     My beloved 16-year-old dog, Caboose, died in my arms yesterday morning. Those of you who have ever had furry quadruped children will understand my sorrow. She was a stray dog, always afraid of people. Throughout her entire life, there were only four humans she really trusted. We understood each other well, and I will miss her terribly.

     The night before she passed, I had pizza for dinner, and so she got to eat her favorite treat, the crust, which I call "pizza bones". All of my dogs have always loved pizza bones.

     The saddest thing is to see my 9-year-old dog, Zoey, grieving. She has never known life without "Boosie", and she is lost, walking from room to room, whining and searching for her.

     I always forget when I am charmed by cold noses and fuzzy faces and wagging tails, or purring balls of fluff, how short is the time we have with them.

     Boosie's body lies cradled by Mother Earth, but I must believe that her soul is frolicking in the Summerland beneath blue skies.

I met a grumbynunkle while walking through the park yesterday.  He stepped out from a hole in the trunk of a tree.  He looked like the tree, only he was small, about a foot high.  His skin appeared to be bark, and his arms and legs were like gnarled tree roots.  He creaked when he walked, the sound of  old trees in a wind storm.  He stepped out right in front of me saying, "Miss" in a loud grumbly voice.

I was so startled I almost tripped over him.  "Miss", he continued, "did you see a sqirrel run up this tree?"

"No", I replied.

He said the squirrel had been stealing nuts from "his" tree.  I asked him why that was his tree, and he said because he lived there in the hole at the bottom.  When I asked him if he was a gnome or elf, he became quite offended.  He said he was a  "grumbynunkle", or that's what it sounded like.  I don't know if I have spelled it correctly.

Now I ask, has anyone encountered a grumbynunkle before?  Or are they specific to my geographical area or park?  Any help would be appreciated!

A sure sign that Spring is here in my area are gnome sightings in the gardens around town. My mom has many gnome friends. so this poem was written for her.

The Secret Life of Garden Gnomes

In my garden are happy faces

Peeking out from around the flowers

My gnomes are frozen in their places

It's here I while away the hours

They're still as statues when I'm around

Their red hats standing proud and tall

When I go in, and the sun  sinks down

Such noise behind the garden wall!

They play wild games, and they leap about

Their hats must be in disarray

They will giggle, snicker, joke and shout!

Cavorting until light of day

Such chaos in my garden at night

You would never believe it so

As dawn is breaking its first pink light

My gnomes stand silent in the glow

But this morning when I tiptoed out

To sit in my garden and think

As I cast my eyes quickly about

I thought I saw one sly gnome wink!