Category Archives: Humor

Cast in Potato Salad, Carved in Stone for “Great Minds Think”

daily life color083 (2)
Cast in Potato Salad, Carved in Stone

The last thing I ever thought I would do would be to pose for a nude sculpture, but when I married a sculptor, I guess it was inevitable.  Since I never had children, this probably marked the longest period in my life that I ever lay nude being observed by a second party.  I remembered having no reservations about doing so, in spite of the fact that I am really rather modest––that is about revealing myself physically. Words are another matter all together.

My husband first sculpted me in plasticine clay. (No, not the ubiquitous Sculpey, but a very dense artist’s clay used to make the originals for bronze sculpting.) He then made a plaster mold followed by a rubber reverse mold that would enable him to make further plaster molds once he destroyed the plasticine original so he could reuse the plasticine.  After mastering the intricacies of wood carving, bronze casting, welding, clay, sandblasting, paper making and stone carving, he was in a difficult spot.  A tool junkie, he had already purchased or made every tool necessary for working in these media. How could he justify buying any more tools or building another studio addition to add to the seven studios he had already set up?

The answer came when our artist friend Diana moved to town.  Her medium was cast glass and Bob soon became fascinated with the process.  Of course, this necessitated the purchase of dozens of large jars of different colored glass casting pellets as well as books, chemicals and other supplies necessary for the process. Unfortunately, we already owned a large kiln, so he couldn’t justify buying a new pristine kiln to be used only for the melting of glass.  True, some molecules of clay might permeate the glass castings, but he decided at least for his first project, to use our existing kiln.

I can’t remember what his first few castings were, but after a few experiments, he decided that his first large glass project would be–ta da–a glass casting of his recumbent nude wife!

The thing was, this necessitated ordering a good deal more glass, and in the meantime, he had this wonderful rubber mold just sitting there unused!  He tried to busy himself with carving stone and wood, but meanwhile that mold beckoned!  Enter fate in the guise of the next show at the Santa Cruz Mountains Art Center, where we were both members.  And the next show was––Edible Art!  In addition to food-centered art themes, there was to be a cookbook of artist’s favorite recipes and the piece de resistance was an edible category, to be consumed at the reception!!!  Thus it was that I came to be cast in potato salad––first molded in “the” well-washed and disinfected rubber mold  and then fine-sculpted by Bob’s hands.

I must admit I felt some trepidation about first being viewed nude, then being consumed by my fellow artists and friends.  This smacked of the Donner party or some sort of sixties orgy, but how we suffer for our art.  I requested Bob not reveal who his model was and all went well.  Later, the judge told us that he would have won first place for edible art if I had not forgotten and used some of the water I used to boil the eggs to add moisture to the potato salad. I had forgotten that I always put a half cup of salt in the water to seal the eggs in case they cracked during the boiling process and that addition made the potato salad totally inedible.  The judges could do nothing but award his sculpture fourth place prize in place of first, right ahead of a jellybean mosaic in the Byzantine style, but behind my third place for my “Garden of Earthly delights” salad.

Yes, the glass grains did arrive and yes he cast the sculpture, but what happened during the further fiasco of my chain of nude effigies must be left to another time and post lest this one grow too long to read.    Suffice it to say that once cast in potato salad, twice in glass, it seems only appropriate that my grave be marked by my magnificent if inedible body rendered into stone!!!  It will be the sensation of my little town, I can promise you.

My post is in response to this  intriguing prompt for Great Minds Think:

In a world where anyone can be famous, and even the most seemingly commonplace life can become the next bestseller or blockbuster, you enter the spotlight.So how do you want to be immortalized? Is a Tony-winning musical the best medium for your life? An eight episode Netflix or Apple TV documentary or biopic? A comedy sitcom? If any of the above, who would play you? Or are you instead going the OG route and writing your own autobiography or letting another person tell your story? Are you inspirational or a cautionary tale? An epic poem which gives Homer a run for his money, or a limerick? A song played on the radio and sung at karaoke bars?I t comes down to this: If you were to be immortalized for future generations, what form would it take, and what aspects of your life do you think you would want people to know about you? Take any form you want, but try to have fun with it.

 

Necromancer’s Oversight for “Can You Write a Story in 51 Words?”

 

Necromancer’s Oversight

A type of evil second-chancer,
he became a necromancer,
nibbling cookies with a yawn
as he resurrected the devil’s spawn,
never considering whether
it was fine or stormy weather.
So, yesterday Beelzebub 
showed up dripping at the pub,
for his usual vacation,
minus his evil elation,
fire put out by precipitation.

 

For her prompt for “Can You Tell A Story In. . . .” this week, Esther wants us to write a story in 51 words including these words: YAWN, WEATHER, TOOT, COOKIES, NECROMANCER. (In case you have forgotten,  as I did, a necromancer is a person who practices magic to communicate with the dead, raise corpses, or use black magic.)

Illustration created making use of AI.

 

Blast from the Past, July 30, 2018

On this date 8 years ago, we were asked to write a Clerihew.  I wrote several, which are below. You can also find a definition of the Clerihew there. Thanks for viewing this Blast from the Past!

lifelessons
lifelessons
•
lifelessons – a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown

 

It may be I will live to rue
the day I wrote each clerihew.
They may invite derisive snorts,
yet here they are with all their warts:

The word is out that Geoffrey Chaucer
never bothered with a saucer,
for though he raised many a couplet,
he always held them fully uplet!

Some have charged Truman Capote
with writing that is too emotey.
but though he was no macho stud,
I know that he wrote in cold blood.A clerihew has the following properties:

  • It is biographical and usually whimsical, showing the subject from an unusual point of view; it mostly pokes fun at famous people
  • It has four lines of irregular length and metre (for comic effect)
  • The rhyme structure is AABB; the subject matter and wording are often humorously contrived in order to achieve a rhyme, including the use of phrases in Latin, French and other non-English languages[2]
  • The first line contains, and may consist solely of, the subject’s name.

Baby’s First Soda Pop for “Lets Hit Rewind” for July 28.

Couldn’t resist rerunning this July 28, 2016 blog for the Rewind prompt:

Version 2

jdbphoto


Baby’s First Soda Pop

When finally a kid is poppable,
once the bottle is untoppable,
the overflow may be unstoppable.
It’s fortunate the floor is moppable!

Care-less for dVerse Poets Quadrille Challenge

Care-less

Lately I don’t give a thought to what I’m going to wear,
and I’ve let my hair grow down to my derriere.
No longer do the men I meet ever stop to stare,
but it doesn’t bother me. I simply do not care.


The dVerse Poets Quadrille prompt today is “Care.” To see other responses to the prompt, go HERE. Image created with AI.

“Panic” for Take A Look Back.

 

The prompt for “Take a Look Bacj” is to look back at what I published on this day, July 27, on an earlier year in my blog. I chose this poem published in 2016:. True now as then.

1958

Panic!!!

When I was younger and a rover,
the things I should have panicked over
never seemed to stick to me.
I guess that’s part of being free.

But now with bigger guns and Isis,
we all feel continual crisis.
Though it’s true, I must confess,
I overlook the world’s grand mess

and concentrate on creaking knees
and where I left my ring of  keys.
As I get older, I would guess,
I’ll feel more panic over less.

The Demise of Scrub Daddy, for “Blast from the Blog.”

For the “Blast from the Blog”  prompt, I am rerunning this post from today’s date (July 25) ten years ago.  It is connected to two other blogs that tell the entire story. And if you’re wondering, after ten years, in spite of what seems to be true at the end of this segment, I’m still addicted to Scrub Daddy.  You might also want to read the  comments as the saga continues there.

The Demise of Scrub Daddy

On February 20 of this year, I posted an entry about the Scrub Daddy Sponge my sister put in my Xmas stocking.

(Click first photo and arrows to enlarge and see commentary under each photo, then click on X at upper left to return and read the poem.)  Note:  Wordpress seems to be having some problems. If the process just suggested doesn’t work, hovering over each photo will let you see the captions.)

The Demise of Scrub Daddy

Scrub Daddy, Scrub Daddy, where you gone?
There in pieces, so limp and wan,
you hardly seem the selfsame sponge
meant to scour and expunge
clinging morsels of cooked-on rice
when I swipe once and maybe twice.

Yet after only thirty days,
I must amend my former praise,
for after one-too-many rubbings,
you haven’t very many scrubbings
left in you. You’ve lost your heart,
unstiffed your starch, fallen apart!

Scrub Daddy, Scrub Daddy, I won’t buy
another cut-out scrub sponge guy.
I’ll make do with a simple square
that’s lacking mouth and eyes and hair.
Though you’d win any cuteness casting,
I’ll choose a sponge that’s longer lasting!


Now, if you want to know the full story of Scrub Daddy, read my earlier posting about him Here.

And, if you want to know the final outcome of this story, read this:

https://judydykstrabrown.com/2016/06/14/scrub-daddy-goes-on-fiesta/

and, since this post follows in the footsteps of an earlier one, I’m posting it in Footsteps as well.

For Fibbing Friday, July 24, 2026

For Fibbing Friday, July 24, 2026 the assignment is:

1. What is a faucet?  One of Charley’s Angels.

2. What is a patella? Cinderella’s younger sister.

3. What is an elevator? An escalator for elves.

4. What is a lancet? A small sword.

5. What is a ferris wheel? A tire for Tinkerbell’s car.

6. How would you describe a pomegranate? Either vocally or in written script or on my computer.

7. What is a fringe? The Amharic word for a foreigner.

8. What is a bunion? A very small rabbit.

9. What is a munchkin? What you call your younger brother or sister when they are chewing their after-school snack.

10. What is an arctic roll? It’s what happens when a walrus or seal slips on the ice.

 

Blast from the Past: Nine Years Ago Today “Sleight of Knees”

Sleight of Knees

IMG_7755doll by Louie Gann, jdbphoto

Sleight of Knees

When the circus clown was lauded,
marveled at, praised and applauded
for hanging from the high trapeze
for 24 hours by his knees,
though he was admired for his moxie,
it turns out it was just epoxy!

For Blast from the Past, here is a silly poem from july 15, 2017. I shared a house with Louie for two weeks at Cannon Beach, Oregon. in 2001 and still have her wonderful doll. It made the culling before my move to Mexico. Louis, if you see this, drop me a line…

“Advice for Errant Males,” Reblog for Classic Material

The Eighth Deadly Sin (Advice for Errant Males)

The Eighth Deadly Sin:
(Advice for Errant Males)

Wrath and avarice and pride
can be safely kept inside.
So although we all may be them,
it is often hard to see them.

If you are a seasoned actor,
sloth will never be a factor
leading to your firing
or premature retiring.

Often envy, I confess,
is one more way that I transgress;
but even though we’re caught inside it,
almost all of us can hide it.

Lust is the sin that’s most unfurled
upon us in this modern world
in every book and magazine.
In movies? It’s in every scene.

And though sex is oft debated,
we only label them X-rated;
and though we profess to abhor them,
in solitude, we may adore them.

Gluttony’s the only sin
we cannot seem to keep within;
for everything that meets our lips,
alas, is carried on our hips!

Each is labeled “deadly sin”—
the one outside, others within;
but I’m inclined to add another
perhaps not taught you by your mother.

These deadly sins from one to seven
may be what keep you out of heaven,
but it’s transgression number eight
that will ban you as my date!

You may talk as you pour wine,
and continue as we dine;
but when I start to tell a tale,
heaven help the errant male

who utters “Me, too . . . ” then proceeds
to list more of his facts and deeds.
As music fades and lights all dim,
bringing the subject back to him!

I know that sinning is the fate
of many couples on a date.
So lust may now and then corrupt me,
but no one gets to interrupt me!!!!

For the “Classic Material” prompt, we were asked to reblog material posted on this date..July 12, in another year. This was posted in 2019. I was actually a reblog from 2019, but I am telling the tale again in hopes those it describes might recognize themselves and repent before it is too late.