Leaf lettuce is my mother’s favorite variety of lettuce, and this salad with pioneer dressing is her favorite way to eat it. She’s been making this style of salad for years. Once, we found a similar recipe in a cookbook, and this style of dressing was called “Pioneer dressing.” It isn’t what she grew up calling it, but it seemed to fit, because, in spite of the fact that Mom has lived in New Jersey for 61 years, she has midwestern roots from Nebraska.
This salad is delicious and easy to make. It’s really a salad side dish. It doesn’t have enough protein or filling ingredients to make it a main dish salad.
First, rinse your leaf lettuce. We like to use a lettuce spinner for this. Then, tear your lettuce into a bowl.
In a smaller bowl, measure out your dressing ingredients: 1/2 cup mayonnaise, 1 tbsp. apple cider vinegar and 1 tbsp. sugar. You can use a light mayonnaise to lower the fat content.
Whisk all the ingredients together until smooth.
Scrape dressing into the lettuce bowl and toss to mix.
Recycled materials such as cassette tapes, CDs, DVDs, bicycle gears, coins and others can be transformed into beautiful art in the hands of a talented artist. These materials receive new life as the artist sees old things in new ways, full of potential.
Artwork by Erika Iris Simmons
Here is a portrait of Michael Jackson made with recycled cassette tape. I’m not sure how I feel about the man after reports of his child abuse, but I have to admit that the portrait is very clever. The tape, of course, seems fitting for a musician, and it also seems to work perfectly for Jackson’s coiffure. The artist, Erika Iris Simmons, has done similar portraits of several other musicians: The Beatles, Madonna, Bob Dylan, Bob Marley, etc.
Artwork by Laura Harris
Artist Laura Harris made this creative mosaic with materials such as recycled bicycle gears. Her site lists some other materials she uses in mosaic work. “These fine art mosaic pieces are heirloom treasures created from rare, precious, hand-cut materials including: dichroic glass, 24kt gold smalti, porcelain gems, one-of-a-kind ceramic tiles, faceted mirrors, natural river stones and an array of antique metals and delicate objects.”
Artwork by Sean E. Avery
Australian artist, Sean E. Avery, creates animal sculptures like the hedgehog above from recycled CDs and DVDs. With their iridescent quality, the recycled discs really make for an interesting medium.
Artwork by Federico Uribe
This sculpture, by Federico Uribe, is made with coins. He created a variety of other female torsos from unusual materials such as pencils, bullets, dominoes, computer keys, electronic connections and even rubber lips. Of the examples I saw, this one is my favorite, partly because, unlike some of the others, this one has a head and seems less impersonal. Also, the coins worked perfectly both for the lady’s necklace and the rippled texture of her ruffly dress.
Artwork by Mary Ellen Crocteau
Artist Mary Ellen Crocteau created this amazing eye with recycled bottle caps. She even created her own accurate self portrait using this same strange medium. Amazingly, she is able to collect and sort appropriate colors and use them to shade and create a realistic look.
Rollin’, Rollin’ Roland by Amy Flynn
You can find and purchase some unique robot sculptures by Amy Flynn on artfulhome.com. The artist is inspired by her love both of robots and flea markets. The sculpture above is called “Rollin’, Rollin’ Roland.” This is what the site says about this one: “Roland (and his pony) are found object robots made from authentic vintage parts, that may include candy and spice tins, Baby Brownie camera, party noisemaker, screen door bracket, toilet float, license plate, erector set wheels, wire brush, hose fittings, amp meter, telephone wire, folding skeleton key, candy molds, and a clock gear. Each one has (like the Tin Man) a metal heart inside.”
Jelly Belly portrait of Ronald Reagan from the Jelly Belly Co. Visitor Center
How about a portrait of Ronald Reagan made entirely from Jelly Belly jelly beans? The former president was openly a fan of the snack. This portrait can be found at the Jelly Belly Co. Visitor Center in Fairfield, California. I found the portrait on several sites but could not find information on the artist. It is, however, possibly Peter Rocha, who created a different portrait of the former president, with American flag in the background, all from Jelly Bellies.
Artwork by a co-op of Kenyan artisans
This colorful, mighty lion sculpture is made from recycled flip flops by a co-op of artisans in Kenya. Flip flops are rescued from filling up the landfills and given new purpose. You can purchase this or similar sculptures at swahilimodern.com.
Artwork by Bernard Pras
French artist, Bernard Pras, created this amazing portrait of Einstein from assorted junk. His junk assemblages are only temporary, and the photograph of the arrangement is the only lasting artwork. Bras has also done portraits of other famous faces as well as reproductions of famous art like Botticelli’s Venus and Munch’s The Scream.
“Hot Dog” sculpture by Robert Bradford
Artist, Robert Bradford, creates sculptures from recycled plastic toys. The name of the piece above is “Hot Dog” and is created with plastic toys on a wooden armature. It’s interesting how the use of smaller toys on the back of the dog’s head seems to suggest tight curls of fur.
Did you enjoy these? Which of these was your favorite?
I sometimes hear stories from dog owners that their dogs survive with little ill effect after eating something which is toxic for dogs. Even so, be very careful to protect your dog from eating things that will harm him. If you’re in this situation, call your vet.
Early, the next morning, after loading Lars, Jack’s Volvo, with boxes of product and display banners, I woke the kids. Bronwyn had taken up temporary residence on an air mattress in Jack’s home office.
I knocked and opened the door. “Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey,” I said.
For what seemed like several minutes, she stared at me through the slits of her eyelids without saying anything. Finally, she said, “Is there eggs and bakey?”
This is part of a series. You can just jump in and try to follow as with a movie in progress or you can go to the links for previous episodes. You can find Part 1 here, Part 2 here, Part 3 here and Part 4 here.
“Uh … no,” I said. Jack and I do not cook. “We have cereal and toast … or, rather, we have bread with the potential of becoming toast. I’m not sure I’d risk it though. Sometimes, the toaster spits out bread that has failed to become toast and, sometimes, it spits out charcoal.”
Bronwyn fell backwards onto the air mattress like a toppling domino and did not move.
“No!” I said. “Clothes on body.” Somehow, I spontaneously adopted a kind of cave man language, as if this was easier for the half-asleep mind to understand. “Outside go.” I pointed out the window. “In car drive.” I pantomimed this also, with my hands on an imaginary steering wheel. Somehow, I had created a language that was halfway between a now politically incorrect Tonto talk and Yoda speak.
The domino righted itself again. “Food in stomach.”
“Fine. Hurry. Get dressed.” I looked at my watch. “We have time to take you and Dec out to the place that keeps Uncle Jack and I alive, before heading into the city. You can get eggs and bakey and … other things Jack and I are incapable of making for you.” I then realized I had to remove myself if I wanted my instructions followed. I walked out and closed the door, trusting that some action other than sleeping would take place.
Dec, thankfully, was already up and dressed, sitting on the couch, reading. Jack was standing nearby, in a squinty-eyed state similar to Bronwyn, a mug of coffee in his hand. He had dressed in clothes … of some sort.
“This is your ensemble?” I asked Jack, looking him up and down.
“Sure. Why not?”
“You know, I’m not even going to argue with it,” I said, “because if there’s anyplace in which this outfit would be appropriate, it’s the New York Toy Fair.”
It is an understatement to say that Jack’s fashion sense is different than mine. He dressed nearly every day like a signboard — a loud, neon signboard — for the toy industry, but, perhaps at the fair, it would be tolerated and possibly appreciated. At the moment, he was sporting a straw trilby hat with a Twister spot hatband, a cobalt blue dress shirt, black and white checkerboard suspenders, a black tie with a design of colorful, floating Tetris shapes and customized Converse shoes printed with Steamboat Willie puffing around the perimeter. A pocket watch dangling from a belt loop featured the faces of Woody and Buzz Lightyear from Toy Story.
I found this on Etsy. This is not an affiliate link. I just thought you might like some visuals of the idea. 🙂
“I can’t decide if you look like you are about to go perform at a children’s party or at a ska festival,” I told him.
“Thanks, Andy,” said Jack.
He would go and take that as a compliment.
“I have an idea for the kids too,” said Jack. “Since Bronwyn was so concerned about being recognized at the event. You were actually onto something yesterday when you mentioned something about a costume for a disguise.” Jack wagged a finger at me.
“I mentioned a hot dog costume … as a joke,” I said. “I think if you are serious about that one, Bronwyn’s eye rolls are going to escalate into actual violence. I believe she knows how to use her powers for good, but keep in mind this is one kid who is wickedly skillful with a pair of nunchuks.”
“Andy,” said Jack. “I’ve been meaning to tell you that you’re a little too prone to hyperbole.”
“Say what?”
“Exaggeration.”
“Right.”
Instead of addressing my question, Jack sat down on the couch beside Dec and pulled out a cell phone. After dialing, he muttered some unknown sounds into the phone. “Hej. Har du et par kostumer, vi kan bruge?”
I’m not an expert linguist, but I can usually at least identify the sounds of Italian, French, Spanish or German. These were sounds I could not even place.
After a few more seconds, Jack said, “Mange tak.”
“What were you just saying?” I asked him. “Please, tell me that you weren’t just talking in Klingon or Elvish to one of your geek friends.”
“No,” said Jack. “If I were talking in Klingon, it would be, ‘nuqneH. vaj, chomaw’chugh, vaj tugh ‘e’ DaHar’a’?’ and then, ‘qatlho’qu’. tugh qalegh.’”
I did a face palm. “I should have known. Does your geekdom know no limits?”
Jack looked up and into the upper right corner for just a second. “No, I don’t think so, Andy.” Then, he gave just a hint of a smile.
“So, it wasn’t Klingon, though you are, apparently, fairly proficient in it. Can you enlighten the rest of us on what that was all about?”
“I was just talking to Johan Nielsen* of the Lego company, and he is going to loan us a couple of costumes for the kids to wear at the fair.”
I still had more questions than answers at this point, but I couldn’t resist teasing and jabbing at him some more. “So, you were talking Danish, I suppose?” Again, I’m no linguist, but I am a toy man, and I know where Lego is headquartered. “You know an impressive smattering of languages, but I am still willing to bet even money that Niels Jorgensen …”
“Johan Nielsen.”
“Whatever … knows English better than you know Danish.”
Jack just shrugged a shoulder. “It’s always good to keep in practice.”
It might be evil of me, but it somehow made me feel better to remember that Mr. Know-it-all was not, in fact, actually omniscient.
Just then, Bronwyn made her entrance into the living room, wearing the new cupcake design T-shirt she had just picked up at the mall.
“So,” I prodded Jack. “You were saying … costumes? Just exactly what and how …?”
“I’ll explain everything over breakfast.” He pointed to the front door. “To the Salvador Deli.”
*Although the Lego company is, of course, very real, Johan Nielsen is purely fictional.
I am pinging Danish blogger friend, Le Drake Noir, (check out his wonderful travel photography,) because I used Google Translate for the Danish phrases in this post, and I thought it would be helpful to have a native speaker check it. Google Translate is not always perfect.
Lastly, if you are enjoying this or other posts in this series, I would love feedback or a comment. 🙂
“Popular with 12th and 13th-century French poets, rimas dissolutas is a poem that rhymes and doesn’t rhyme. For instance, each stanza contains no end rhymes, but each line in each stanza rhymes with the corresponding line in the next stanza–sometimes employing an envoi at the end. There are no rules for meter, line length, or syllables–except that it should be consistent from stanza to stanza.”
