Whoville Charmers

These particular finger puppets are filed in my brain under category “LOLWD” - Laugh Out Loud With Delight. First of all, because that was my instinctive reaction upon first seeing this photo - followed by breaking into the chorus of the Who-ville song . ("Fahoo fores dahoo dores...". Sadly, I always thought they sang, "Wahoo wahoo...". Amazing how a Q-tip can change your life.)
Secondly, they’re finger puppets, which are right up there on the winsome scale with drawing a demure little cartoon face on your thumb and then wrapping a tissue around it to make your very own Thumbelina.
And thirdly, because spreading delight has to be the aim of an artist who successfully strives to capture such sheer Grinchiness, Maxiness and Cindy-Lou-Who-ness in bits of yarn and twizzle wire.
A big “Thanks!” to Marcy Heffernan for sharing this photo, and also for infusing joy and grace into everything she crafts. I like to think that a robust Montana upbringing contributed to these qualities.
Indulge in Marcy’s varied creations at her Etsy shop http://www.etsy.com/shop/4sistercreations.

Tree Topper, Missoula, Montana

Now if we could just spin the branches as the clouds go by, we'd have a big big big bunch of cotton candy! And if we wait 'til sunset, it will be pink, just like at the County Fair.

Boxed Cornice, Hamilton, Montana

With modern construction techniques often focused on weather-tightness, I sometimes am amazed how neglected wooden structures have withstood wind, snow, hail, and rain, over decades. Abandoned homesteads are a familiar sight in the farming region we grew up in. Seeing the old houses, barns, and granaries always makes me wonder at the stories they have to tell.

Fence Lines, Hamilton, Montana

This well-worn metal fence borders the yard of a historic brick house built by a founding member of genteel society in Hamilton, Montana. In one of her walking tour books, a local historian tells the story of a much revered horse-less carriage safeguarded in a small barn set back from the main dwelling. One dark and stormy night, mischief gone awry ended with an explosion that marked the spectacular demise of the barn - and of the owner’s pride and joy stowed inside. I’m sure there’s a lesson from Ecclesiastes in there… “Vanity of vanities, says the Preacher, all is vanity.”
This story reminds me of barn story from my mum’s youth, an era before video games and television. For their amusement, young men often inspired each other to new heights of creativity and feats of strength. The result of one such bout of thinking was intended to teach a small lesson to a crabby neighbor. One morning when Mr. Crabbypants went out to hitch up his wagon, it was no where to be found, and no tracks indicated it had been driven away. Scratching his head, he happened to look up, and there beheld his wagon - on the roof of his barn. The head scratching continued along a new vein, I’m sure.

Leaves of Pear, Hamilton, Montana

Far be it from me to be biased, but the leaves on the little flowering pear tree at our Hamilton, MT, cottage are some of the prettiest I’ve seen this fall. (Bear with me as I wax Seuss-ish: I like them, Sam, come spring or fall, I like these leaves, I like them all!)
Truly, it’s not just because this particular tree was planted by exertion of my own sweat and toil, or that it was nurtured with tender words of hope for survival through the two bitter winters of its young life. From the visual evidence presented , I'm sure you agree that it truly is a beautiful tree.