We walked in this Painting Parrot, and saw a counter, some round tables, all decorated in art, and no wall to another big room. The door made a jingle as we came in, and I looked around for somebody. We heard a women's voice say, "I'm coming, I'm coming" as a robust lady with blonde/brown hair and an apron, with short hair, came around and to the counter. Dad informed her that we were going to do some pottery after we had had a small greeting. All over the walls were crosses, paintings, and other things she had made that you could buy. She seemed nice. I would later know this lady as Diane, which is what I'll be calling her from now on, but, take notice, that WE didn't know her name until I asked her, which will come later. A little confusing, yes, but sometimes I am. Deal with it. But anyway, we walked into this other room, with some tables and many shelves of beige sculptures, animals, things of that nature. Dad put the camera on a table by a slated window, and, not finding a spot where my books would be safe, I placed them on a kitchen counter by that window, which was a good spot. Little did I know I wouldn't even read, it would be interesting enough without a book. Which is a good thing. Or not.
There was a painted counter with various colors of paint, and farther up was a step, and a door going to another room. Well, a cut out of a door actually, where a door should be, but it doesn't matter. She said that we could pick any one we wanted, but there was different prices for different ones. We looked around, at little characters, fairies, plates, cups, and many animals, and even a motorcycle and car. I was going to do the motorcycle, but it looked too complex for me. Then I was going to do a person, but I didn't want to be responsible for their clothes and be scolded at for making a person have to live with a smeared part of their body for the rest of their clay life. Dad chose quickly, taking an animated dragon, with sharp claws and a triangle head, from the shelf, saying it was going to be the best painting ever done, in his usual funny matter. Then I saw a cool sharp, that was already grey in color, lifeless, and menacing. Yes, the shark, the shark! One of nature's deadliest creatures, one that stalks it's prey and swims toward it, pushing and gnashing it's teeth at the victim, then biting into it with it's sharp daggers, and ripping the flesh...a little too vivid? Sorry. But, it was 18 dollars to do that one, but Mom said it was a good choice and I could get it. Below the shark was a reef, and it was about as big as my hand, or about the size. I sat down.
Mom wanted to do a turtle, she said it was probably an easy one and that it would be alright. Plus Roswell has sculptures of turtles all around. Rebecca took a while with many options open to her, but she finally decided on a plate as big as the keyboard I'm typing on, just to give you an idea. My computer is a mac, a pro one from... checking the serial number.... well, I can't read it, too scratched up. Oh well. Just find a Mac Book Pro and then you'll see it. Not too important actually. But anyway we all sat down, and were given paper that were in circles, with a list of colors and numbers. Also we were given by Diane a piece of paper and pencil, and were told we could pick seven colors. While picking and at the moment Diane had talked to us about different things, Alabama's economy, and her life. We were sad to find out she had lost her son, and she didn't say how though. That's really too bad. I wish those things never happen, but I guess it's life. But to other more positive subjects. We also talked about the presidential candidates, that Dad's opinion was that Gingrich was alright but he was so unpredictable he might get ticked off and do something stupid! Sorry, Former Speaker of the House of Representatives Newt Gingrich (long name), my dad said it, not me.
She was nice to talk to. Mom picked different shades of green for hers, with a little bit of purple, and Dad was kind of the same. Rebecca did blue, red, green, pink, and some others. There were many shades of these, that you had to choose from. It was difficult for me, because mine was either blue or grey and it was hard to pick. I decided to do red eyes and the scar things on the side, with grey fins on the top and blue body. The tail was another shade of blue/grey. I had three shades of green for the coral (that's the word! i hadn't thought of it before!) on the bottom. So most were in the 70's, number wise. Everybody gave and decided on the colors before me. I gave it to Diane, and she went to take them out and put them on the palette. She took paintbrushes on paper towels, with a Folger's can full of water close by. This was a little like art in school, as we took off our jackets and pulled up our sleeves. I got my colors, and prepared to start up. I took a small paintbrush, dipped it in the red, as I prepared to do the red eyes and the scars, or gills (that's the word again!) on the shark. I was a little sloppy, and it smeared a tiny bit. Dad was pretty confident, as he lightly brushed on the dragons scales. The dragon was quite comical, actually.
Then I did the blue body, with a bigger brush, dipping in the blue ever so often to renew my supply, then when changing a color swirling it around in the Folger's water. I have done it before. We talked a little as the light streamed in through the window, and Dad continued to brag about how when we came back people were going to come by and say all kind's of things, like they knew that one was Rebecca and that Rebecca would say, cryingly, "NO, IT'S MY DADS!! (cry, cry) Sure Dad, just sure, was our reply. He was doing better than me on his though, as Rebecca stood and doodled the plate. Mom stated that she was going to put her's out in the front yard on the porch, like a gnome. I thought mine was going to be on my drawer in my room, but who knows, if it's a shark I might put it outside by the pool somewhere. But with people coming over on parties it is possible it could break. Rebecca's might be used as a chip plate. Well, we talked as we painted, about Rebecca's past birthday parties, ones at the Rec in the Gym with all the pit of balls, and other times, like at the house and such. Her b-day falls in January, a cold month, "only a little after Christmas" by only a little less than a month. Oh yeah sure that's close. Oh well.
I did the grey up fins, but they blended unnaturally with the blue and it was yet again messy. The clay was hard and rough as I turned it around, dipped the paint in the water, or vise versus. Diane at that time either talked to us on a stool by the counter or talked with someone on the phone, went up to the supply part and stayed away for a while, or gave something to a black haired kind of Asian customer who had prior called for the arrangement. This is when I found out her name. I went in the small restroom that was there, and then came back out. It was a good time. Well, then I did the hard coral, using a bigger brush to get those 3-d and rough cylinder portions done. Mom's was pretty good, and Rebecca's was pretty pretty also. (it's pun time!) Dad said that we were going to ship them home, that they might break or get stuck in the parts of the R.V. if we continued to have them, giving Diane our address and such, also saying that if someone came in and wanted his dragon, then they could have it and Diane could get the thousands of dollars it cost. I rolled my eyes at this statement. Well, it seemed everyone ended, except Rebecca, before I did, talking with Diane as they gave her theirs and she went upstairs to put it in the fire.
Are you alarmed that I said fire? Let me enLIGHTen you (get it, enLIGHTen?). In the artist world, it means to fire something, by putting it in a kiln and making the paint stick on. The paint we had was very fast drying, very fast drying. We got all our stuff, paid the bill with a Visa card, and Diane walked us to that other counter in the first part of the room. She said to me, "Andrew, (for I had told her my name) do you want me to fire your shark?" I had still held onto it, unaware of that I had. I gave it to her, asking if I could see this firing thing, that my art teacher didn't let us, she thought their might be a Hansel and Gretel accident or something. When I say that I mean you know how they push the witch in the oven? Yeah, that's it. But she showed me up that step, and I saw a cylinder kind of top where she takes down the piece of plate, puts the clay on it and does the whole process. She showed me a few carts and a whole other room with all the art supplies. Then we went back to the end. Dad had said goodbye and was already outside, and Mom asked Diane about a certain glass cross, and Diane told her that her friend had seen it in Greece, and that her son died so she made it for her. A very heartfelt story indeed.
Rebecca saw on the counter bubbly things, many tile sheets that had so many colors on it, of all different swirls and colors of formations. Diane explained that she didn't want all the unused paint to be a waste, so she crushed them up and left them to dry, then put some stuff on them and did all these different kind of smoothing things to make them what they are today. It was cool to look at them. Then Diane did the generous, and took out a cardboard box of them, saying we could pick out of all of them which one we wanted. We were very thankful and grateful, and told of our appreciation as we got two. Mine has a lot of blue in it, and it's all connected to look like a web or something close to it. So awesome. Kind of retro. I like it. Well, we got back in the car, drove through some neighborhoods with some old homes, with richly painted settings and many windows, and the thickness about them, tall and condense, with two large porches on the front and back. I asked Mom if this was like the house in the 30's, the time period of To Kill A Mockingbird, and she told me yes it was. We also drove down to a shore. Rebecca had liked her birthday so far. She had gone to the beach and built a sandcastle, had gotten presents and a thrown doughnut at Krispy Kreme, and now we were going to Lambert's Cafe for some thrown rolls! Thrown sand, thrown doughnuts, thrown paint, thrown rolls now!
We came to it, and parked. We came inside, and were quickly led to a few rows down the booths and tables to a booth at the end of the row on a corner. There was a lot of little bric-a-brac stuff around, like signs of old and stuff. We were seated by a nice african american girl, as we sat. This was going to be a very cool time. Yes indeed. We looked at this menu, and I found out that in Missouri a wife and husband had opened the cafe, and though it was very small, they got a lot of people in. The husband died and the kid took over. He was kind of shy but got out of his shell sooner or later, and did magic tricks and such. Well they had still a lot of people in there, so many. One time he couldn't get to a patron who wanted a roll, and tried but there was just too many people. One man said to just throw it, using profane language. And he did. The rest is history, of course. We read all this on the back of the menu. I decided to get some catfish, country style. Mom got the same thing. Dad got a chicken pot pie, and Rebecca a pulled pork sandwich. There was constantly people coming down the aisles with various items on carts, with suspenders on, of course, and there was black eyed peas, fried okra, which we tried a little of. Of all things, tomato and mac' n' cheese. You think it's gross, right? You don't? Oh weird.
Our waitress was nice as a dashing young man with blonde hair, a hairnet, gloves, threw some rolls to some people in the booths. I had already when coming down caught one, but it was only a toss. This was a throw from all the way down the aisle. And he get's ready for the catch, and the throw, he sits high in his seat, ooh, it's, interception! The guy in front of me got it. I got another one later. They were huge rolls, bigger than my hand. Man were they big. Almost as big as a dog's head. And warm too. So good. Rebecca loved catching them as we ate and had various appetizers. Rebecca asked about the day she was born, and Mom told her about how it was at night and she had to wait for a while for someone to help her, because they were full and they got a really weird doctor. It was a humorous tale she spun for us. Very interesting. We got pretty full even before the meal. A funny part was when the girl came back, and pretended to spill a pitcher on me, but it didn't spill, because it was molasses, one of the slowest liquids in the world. We got a lot of rolls, had a few funny times, and then got the meal. The catfish were fried with their tails very pointy. Pretty good. After the long mealtime I tried that tomato mac'n'cheese and it was actually very flavorful and good. Surprising, right?
After the wonderful meal we paid, and Mom went to the outdoor gift shop while we finished up. Then we followed her to a place, with a wall and open air, under shade, of course. It didn't have anything we wanted, though. We later just went home, walked the dogs on that walkway before American Idol was coming on, and watched the first A.I. and a Republican Debate. I switched back and forth from the two, seeing officials say mean things to each other and address real issues and see young adults trying to chase their dream of stardom. Politics and singing,two good things. Not to be combined though, as Barack Obama did that night. Funny. I went in the front where Dad watched it, on my bed, and then went back to the back. After that we went to bed after Rebecca's birthday she loved. It wasn't my choice of events, but it wasn't my birthday, either. Beach, doughnut shop, pottery, and a place where they throw rolls at you. It was a good day. And you know who's a good sister? Rebecca. I'm blessed to have her as a sister. Love you Puck.
Goodbye for now.
Men who throw doughnuts and rolls have a great future they can achieve from it,
Andrew.
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