You did...wha...WHAT?!
When making sundry clay items there’s always leftover clay. Not quite enough to make another tile or magnet, but too much to just hang onto indefinitely. So a couple of weeks ago, as I was fiddling with a leftover blob, this little guy took shape (above).
My husband, whom I call "Ham," has a very expressive face with an equally expressive voice to go with it. The combined effect drives me dizzy with delight, to the point that even when he’s - shall we say - excessively perturbed, I’m giddy with internal glee. Not that I don’t take him seriously, of course, but those expressions of his are just too priceless to toss aside. And one of the hazards of being married to an artist is that it’s just as easy to become thehapless victim subject as it is to be the innocent bystander spousal support.
So as this little clay guy materialized in my fingers, an idea popped into my head, as ideas invariably do, "Why not capture a Hammy-moment?"
My husband, whom I call "Ham," has a very expressive face with an equally expressive voice to go with it. The combined effect drives me dizzy with delight, to the point that even when he’s - shall we say - excessively perturbed, I’m giddy with internal glee. Not that I don’t take him seriously, of course, but those expressions of his are just too priceless to toss aside. And one of the hazards of being married to an artist is that it’s just as easy to become the
So as this little clay guy materialized in my fingers, an idea popped into my head, as ideas invariably do, "Why not capture a Hammy-moment?"
What I mean by "Hammy-moment" is a snapshot of one of hubby's mercurial expressions in response to my seemingly-endless shenanigans. It seems I have a knack for eliciting a barrage of expressions from him because - apparently - I do things that invite all sorts of incredulous reactions. Indeed, the man is a pillar of patience because, I do admit, I'm a bit of a whirlwind of catastrophic unpredictability. And thus a win-win situation was born: I'd use up the extra clay and have fun to boot. And I shall call them Hammies.
The first Hammie is pictured above, wearing hubby’s expression when he’d discovered I’d opened up the house to the beautiful spring day, but left the central heating on. All day.
The first Hammie is pictured above, wearing hubby’s expression when he’d discovered I’d opened up the house to the beautiful spring day, but left the central heating on. All day.
This is his expression when he'd discovered - after all that trouble - that the problem was that the wall switch had been turned off. By me. After he'd told me about a million times never to turn off the wall switch. There's some highly technical reason why the wall switch controls the TV hook-ups, but I promptly forgot and, of course, flipped it off. I couldn't even remember the reason why...I just remembered the wall switch was important so I flipped it off. Note to self: don't work in a nuclear power plant.
And here's his expression immediately after the initial shock of the unfortunate discovery. A grumble went with it as well as a reminder, for the one-millionth-and-one time, not to turn off the wall light switch.
Look for gaggles of Hammies popping up for sale in my Etsy store from time to time, an ode to an endlessly suffering and infinitely lovable man.
“We have an infinite number of reasons to be happy, and a serious responsibility not to be serious.” ~ Maharishi Mahesh Yogi