Starting a Small Book, and A Story: Bob White

In the latest issue of Somerset Studio, one of my favorite magazines, was an article about making paper from milk cartons. I was so excited about the possibilities, I went downstairs and pulled out the empty carton of Flax Milk (alas, no dairy products here except Greek Yogurt) and by the end I had 4 pages ready to incorporate with whatever I wanted to do. I decided I will make a small book and here is what was completed.

Front

(click for detail)

Back

(click for detail)

Since I plan on including 3D objects on each front page, the back will be more neutral and flat. I used acrylic paints, oil pastels, rubber stamping, a flattened old Dr. Pepper bottle cap, Micron pens, paper scraps, and cut out words. I have 3 more blank pages, and then I will make more from the next empty carton; page size is about 7 x 3.75. Once I feel the book is the right size, I'll put it all together. 

And in case any readers may be wondering about the wall hanging I was making, I had put it aside because of the trip out of town, and I was waiting for some more inspiration for details to add, and now I have them! So I will be posting about that as well, soon.

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Bob White

54th in the Tuesday Story Series

Yesterday I posted briefly that it had been a day for spending on the bed, as I had awakened weak and fatigued. In the afternoon, as I was playing a game on my laptop I heard a Northern Bob White quail calling from nearby. Their name comes from the whistle call they make, and it's one of my favorite sounds of summer. (Click here if you have never heard it) It brought back memories of a time early in our marriage when the quail provided us great entertainment.

When Tabitha was not quite a year old, John had been offered a job in Berkeley County which would provide more money for our family. It meant moving to Goose Creek, South Carolina, which at the time was not much of a town, more of a collection of homes, different stores and fast food places which catered to the nearby Naval Weapons Station. It was growing, though, and we were able to move into a new 2 bedroom condominium not too many miles from where John would be working. We had the end unit and it had a small screened porch facing a slice of woods which provided a sound buffer to the busy 4 lane highway on the other side. There was a patch of grass about 4 foot wide between us and the woods. 

It was lonely for me during that time, because we were down to one car, which John drove to work. It was also a long distance away from our church and the friends who had lived nearby. Sometimes if John did not have plans to leave the office, I would drive him to work and then Tabitha and I would drive down the interstate to visit friends; but mostly he needed the car, and he put in long hours. 

One day after we had settled into the apartment, I heard the Bob White calling from the patch of woods behind us. Late that afternoon, I saw a pair of them come out of the woods, clucking softly to several babies scrambling behind them. John came in just then, and we quietly went out to the porch to watch them. They did not mind us, but continued hunting for food, parents and chicks busily scratching the ground. Every evening after that, we would sit on the porch and wait for them to come out to feed. We sprinkled some corn on the ground for them. It was fun watching the chicks grow.

Watching them helped ease the loneliness, and there was also a whippoorwill in the woods which would make its calls every evening that summer around 9 PM. We only stayed in the condo for about 10 months, because John was offered an even better job which brought us back to Charleston, and a job where he stayed until he retired. But we enjoyed the birds the short while we lived there.

We have Bob White living here in the woods and pastures and still smile every time the call comes through the air. Maybe some day we'll see parents with their chicks again! 

Come see my latest postcards I've received on Postcards Buffet!