An A -ma-ZINNing Afternoon with Alice Zinn

By Joanna Campbell Slan

At first blush, Alice Zinn's home looks like all the other houses in her neighborhood. The building is pleasant, on a pretty corner lot in a small city in Florida. However, when she opens the door and permits you entrance, you feel like you've fallen down a rabbit hole into an enchanted universe where fairytales and wishes come to life in miniature.

Because she knew I was interested in her workspace, Alice took me on a quick tour of her shop before we had the lunch she so kindly prepared. The converted garage is packed with supplies, as you might imagine, but most importantly, everything is labeled. Alice can put her hands on things quickly. I stood there and turned a tight circle at the stacks of plastic storage tubs that lined the walls and towered over my head. Her computer is at a right angle to the desk where she works, and therefore, perfectly situated for convenience. Although she enjoys working from the comfort of a big cushy office chair, because her work space is so large, she also makes use of a backless stool on rollers so she can scoot along the corridor in her warehouse of supplies.

When you meet Alice, you are immediately struck by her active, seeking mind. Her breadth of knowledge about the world in general is amazing. Her process is one of problem-solving. The pneumatic stool is an example. Its height is easily adjustable, and there's a tray on the bottom so the stool can actually be used to transport items. Really, it's perfect. I found myself coveting this handy seat. Alice laughed and said, "Stop by Harbor Freight. It's on your way home." I did and bought one for myself, a bargain at $26.

Walking from the workroom into the house, I paused to gawk at the shelving over the top of the doorsills. Alice set cove molding a ninety-five degree angle, turning the wood slats into narrow shelves. On these she's displayed miniature chairs in all sorts of furniture styles. There's also a cabinet full of gifts, including a china collie given to Alice by her grandmother. Alice was eight at the time and suffering from chickenpox. Young Alice was bothered by the fact that the dog didn't have fur, which made the piece more like a statue than a miniature pet. Many years later, when Alice decided to make miniature animals for a living, she set herself the task of making them furry, because no one else was doing so at the time.

We passed Alice's bathroom, and oh, my! A person could get lost in there. She's packed the place with tiny scenes, including a shadowbox of Teddy Bears, which houses another childhood favorite of hers. There's also a small nautical scene on the back of the toilet. "Guests go to the restroom and take forever," said Alice. "They get so involved with the minis."

As I wandered around Alice's home, it was delightful to pause and admire all the minis, including one particular castle, a showcase for Alice's sense of humor. The piece is called "Fear of Flying." It depicts a wizard teaching a young dragon to spread his wings.

"Dis-embarking"  *  Photo courtesy of Alice Zinn.

Nearby is a large Japanese house with a most unusual provenance. It was built post-WWII by a Japanese architect who wanted Westerners to see what a typical Japanese home was like. Alice's iconic Noah's Ark scene—"Dis-embARKing"—took my breath away, as I challenged myself to find as many of the 54 pairs of animals as I could. This is harder than it sounds, since tiny creatures scamper their way up the trees and hide in the leaves. The faces on her tigers are truly exquisite.

Her Amish barn scene shows off Alice's commitment to being tech-savvy. To produce two tiny saws and a wagon wheel, she turned to a "plotter," a "Wishblade" by Xyron. This machine allows Alice the freedom to design whatever she wants and let the machine cut it out for her.

A scene with Calpurnia and Caesar, emperor of Rome, delights the viewer, as it is easy to imagine these tiny people come to life. Their costuming is exquisite, right down to the way that Calpurnia's gown is carried over her forearm. The hair on Calpurnia is stunning, her tiny curls arranged perfectly in a noble style.

It is hard to believe that Alice designs the settings, curates and creates the furnishings, and creates the dolls as well. This speaks to the multiplicity of her talents.

Joanna Campbell Slan holding the "piano man" and the "bartender" by Alice Zinn.

In another room, Alice has the "Piano Man" scene she's busy creating for the Tom Bishop Show that will be held in Chicago, April 17-19, 2015. The dolls have already been created, although they have not yet been dressed. Currently, Alice is toying with the placement of the various elements that will bring the Tropical-style bar to life. We discussed where she might place a tiny gift shop, a cute way to display more tropical minis as part of this setting.

When assembling a "museum" scene that depicts various cultures, Alice likes to include a miniature house. These "minis within minis" serve as Alice's nod to the industry and a wink to her audience. They serve as a vivid reminder of the pervasiveness of miniatures through all cultures in all eras.

I left Alice's workshop with my head spinning. In fact, I went into a sort of "craft-induced" mental fugue state. Creativity begets creativity. Watching Alice decide what to place where in her "Piano Man" setting, see all the fantastic scenes she's already made, soaking up tidbits about her process, and thinking of how to apply all this to my own life nearly overwhelmed me. It occurred to me as I climbed into my car that I'd just attended a Master Class in miniatures from a Master of the Craft.

< > < > < >

 

Coming soon--"Ten Things I Learned from Miniaturist Alice Zinn That Any Miniature Enthusiast Can Use"

< > < > < >

Joanna Campbell Slan is the author of twenty-eight books, including three mystery series. She loves turning trash into treasure. She shares tutorials on her blog http://www.joannaslan.blogspot.com You can follow her on Pinterest at http://www.pinterest.com/joannaslan

For a free sample of Joanna's work, send an email to her assistant, Sally Lippert at SALFL27@att.net and request the free copy of Ink, Red, Dead, one of Joanna's mysteries.

Visit Alice Zinn at her website http://www.AliceZinn.com or see her in person at the Tom Bishop Show. For info on the show, go to http://www.bishopshow.com/chiinfo.htm

Three Red Velvet Cake Recipes!

Although Ilona didn't want to share her Red Velvet Cake Recipe, I was fortunate that three of my readers shared these yummy concoctions. Many thanks to all three!

Joanna

**

Carrie Wolfgang’s (Iona’s) Red Velvet Cake Recipe

Cake Ingredients:

1 ½ C. Sugar

2 C. Cooking oil

2 Eggs

1 Tsp. Vinegar

2 Oz. Red Food Coloring

2 ½ C. Flour

1 Tsp. Baking soda

1 Tsp. Salt

3 T. Cocoa

1 C. Buttermilk

2 Tsp. Vanilla

Directions:

1.     Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees. Grease and lightly flour two 9 inch layer pans.

2.     Cream together sugar and oil.

3.     Add eggs and beat well. Add vinegar and food coloring. Beat well.

4.     Sift flour, soda, salt and cocoa together.

5.     Add flour/soda/salt/cocoa mixture to sugar/oil/egg/vinegar/food coloring, alternating with buttermilk and stirring well after each addition.

6.     Add vanilla and beat well.

7.     Pour into greased and floured pans. Bake for 30-35 minutes. Cool completely before frosting.

Frosting Ingredients:

1 Stick of Butter (room temperature)

8 Oz. Cream Cheese (room temperature)

2 Tsp. Vanilla

1 Lb. Sifted Powdered Sugar

1 C. Chopped Walnuts

Directions:

1.     Cream butter and cream cheese together.

2.     Add vanilla and powdered sugar. Mix well.

3.     Stir in nuts and spread on cake layers.

Special thanks to Carrie Wolfgang of Novel Destination-Used Book Emporium for sharing her recipe.

Visit her at https://www.facebook.com/pages/Novel-Destination/141350359287827?sk=photos_stream&ref=page_internal

**

Fay Zerbolio’s Red Velvet Cake Recipe

Ingredients:

½ C. Margarine or butter

1 ½ C. White Sugar

1 Egg, beaten

4 T. Cocoa

1 Tsp. Red food coloring

2 T. Strong, hot coffee

2 C. Cake flour

1 Tsp. Salt

1 Tsp. Baking soda

1 C. Buttermilk

1 Tsp. Vanilla

Directions:

1.     Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease and flour two 9-inch cake pans.

2.     Cream together butter and sugar. Add beaten egg. Combine cocoa, food coloring and coffee. Add to mixture and mix well.

3.     Sift soda, salt, and flour together. Add flour mixture and milk alternately to chocolate mixture. Add vanilla. Pour into pans and bake for 20-25 minutes.

Icing Ingredients:

3 Squares baking chocolate

3 T. Butter

5 T. Milk, scalded

2 C. Powdered sugar

¼ Tsp. Salt

1 Tsp. Vanilla

½ to 1 C. Chopped nuts

Directions:

Melt chocolate and butter together over low heat. Pour hot milk over sugar, stir to dissolve. Add salt, chocolate mixture and vanilla. Beat till thick. Add nuts. Frost cake.

Special thanks to Fay Zerbolio of the Miniature Museum of Greater St. Louis.  Visit them at http://miniaturemuseum.org/

**

Karan Flanscha’s $200 Cake (Red Velvet Cake)

Ingredients:

2-3 T. Powdered cocoa

1 oz. Bottle of red food coloring

½ C. Crisco

1 ½ C. White Sugar

2 Whole Eggs

2 ¼ C. Cake flour

1 Scant tsp. salt

1 C. Buttermilk

1 tsp. Vanilla

1 tsp. Vinegar

1 tsp. Baking soda

Directions:

1.     Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease and flour two 9-inch baking pans.

2.     Mix cocoa powder with red food coloring. Refill food coloring bottle with water and add to cocoa/food coloring mix. Mix well.

3.     Cream Crisco and white sugar. Add 2 eggs and cocoa mixture. Mix well.

4.     Stir together three times: cake flour and salt.

5.     Using mixer on low speed, add dry ingredients alternately with buttermilk to cocoa mixture. Add vanilla.

6.     Fold in by hand: vinegar and baking soda. Mix well. Pour into pans.

7.     Bake for about 30 minutes.

8.      

Icing ingredients:

1.     White frosting from a can

2.     ½ Tsp. Peppermint flavoring

Directions:

Mix frosting and flavoring. Ice the cooled cake layers.

Part 4--The Conclusion of Kiki Lowenstein and the Penny Pincher

By Joanna Campbell Slan

Editor’s Note: In Parts 1, 2, and 3, Kiki Lowenstein, owner of Time in a Bottle, has been teaching a two-session class called “The Double-Dip.” This week, her customers brought in one of their favorite dessert recipes to use in an 8- by 8-inch cookbook album. There's a bit of friction in the group because Iona Lippman and Lisa Ferguson both claim to make an outstanding red velvet cake—and now Iona's prized family recipe has gone missing! The arrival of Kiki's husband, Detective Chad Detweiler, has temporarily shifted attention away from the missing index card. Can he help Kiki find the keepsake that Iona holds so dear?

**

You can  Part 1 by read by clicking on the word and number or by going to http://tinyurl.com/pennypinchpart1 ;  Part 2 by going to http://tinyurl.com/pennyp2  and Part 3 by going to  http://tinyurl.com/pennypinchpart3 

**

Even though he rarely wears his uniform (that's one of the perks of being a detective), my husband still looks like a cop. Iona took him in with a long, thoughtful glare. Then she lifted her chin defiantly. "It's about time someone from the law enforcement community showed up. You came about the theft, I presume?"

Chad Detweiler has the most amazing Heineken bottle green eyes. These he turned on Iona with a calm, appraising stare. "Ma'am? I don't know anything about a theft. I came by to say hello to my wife."

With that, he gave me a quick—but promising—smooch.

I could feel my face turn red as I explained, "This is my husband, ladies. Detective Chad Detweiler."

"Oooh," said Avery, fluttering her lashes. "I've heard so much about you."

The other women greeted him with similar approval. Detweiler is, in my humble opinion, gorgeous. I'm a very lucky woman. My customers evidently thought so, too. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Lisa Ferguson touching up her lipstick.

"What seems to be the problem?" he asked, keeping one hand on the small of my back. A subtle reminder, but a message nonetheless: "I've got your back." I felt a lot of the tension drain from my body.

Everyone started talking at once. You couldn't hear over the chatter. Finally, My friend Clancy broke up the hubbub with an ear-splitting whisper for attention. "Quiet!"

When my customers piped down, Clancy explained about the missing recipe card.

"I see," said Detweiler. "The card was here a little while ago, but it's gone now. Is that right?"

They nodded vigorously.

"Ladies, with your permission, I'd like to ask my husband to help us figure out where the card went. Is that okay with you?"

"He can pat me down any day!" Avery's offer was bit too enthusiastic for my taste, but it was a step in the right direction.

"How about this," I said. "We still have a lot of dessert leftover. Why don't we have a second helping with some fresh coffee while Detective Detweiler looks for the missing recipe?"

The scrapbookers seemed willing, so we took a break. As they got up from their chairs, I noticed that Lisa Ferguson hesitated.

Could she be hiding something? 

But that didn't make sense.

She had her own red velvet cake recipe. Why would she take Iona's?

While the women crowded around the food table, I motioned my husband over to Lisa's things. 

Trying to act casual, I said, "We've been working on a recipe album. Lisa? You don't mind if I show Detweiler yours, do you?"

She froze like a deer when your headlights hit it.

"Uh…no." Her words didn't match her body language.

I opened the album and went through it page by page. When I got to the red velvet cake recipe, I withdrew it and studied it. That's when I realized what was wrong.

"Lisa? I think you accidentally glued your recipe card to Iona's card," I said, peeling the two apart. "Iona? Here's your missing recipe."

Detweiler winked at me. "Good work."

To my horror, Lisa started crying. "I did it for your daughter-in-law Bethany. She and I have been friends for years. It's all your fault, Iona! Why couldn't you do the decent thing and share your recipe with her? Your son Mason is leaving Texas and going off to Afghanistan. All Bethany wanted was to make him one of his mother's famous red velvet cakes before he goes. But would you share the recipe with her? No. You're mean!"

All my scrapbookers turned on Iona.

"Is that true?" asked Avery. "You wouldn't let your own daughter-in-law have a copy of your recipe?"

Iona sniffed. "It's for the women in my family only!"

"Iona!" said one of the other scrapbookers. "How could you?"

A fat tear dripped down the woman's cheek. "Now that I see how all of you feel, I realize…I was wrong. That silly recipe doesn't matter that much, does it?"

We looked at her and shook our heads no.

"Kiki? Would you make copies of it for everybody?" Iona shoved the card into my hand.

"I'll be glad to."

"Since she's in such a generous mood, see if you can bring a couple of slices home with you tonight. I'm thinking I'd like to sit down with my wife after dinner and have a dessert," said Detweiler, and then he kissed my neck and added, "or two."

~ The End ~

You can get your copy of Iona's Red Velvet Cake Recipe by sending an email to RedVelvet@JoannaSlan.com

Joanna Campbell Slan is the author of the Kiki Lowenstein Mystery Series, featuring a scrapbooking mom. To see a list of all of Joanna’s books and short stories, go to http://tinyurl.com/JoannaSlan Follow her on Facebook for more great crafting ideas at http://www.facebook.com/JoannaCampbellSlan

Taking Care of Yourself This Holiday Season

So often we take care of everything and everyone but ourselves during the holidays. I know, because I'm a poster child for trying to do too much. Right now, I've got a miserable cold, and I suspect it's from getting too little sleep and working too many hours.

The question seems eternal: "How do we care for ourselves, especially during the holiday season?"

One way is to listen to our needs, to make time for us. For those of us who work at home--especially those of us who are writers--it can be especially tempting to work around the clock and on weekends. That seems like a great way to get ahead, but eventually we pay the price in loss of enthusiasm, or burnout.

Making time for yourself pays dividends because it keeps you healthy in mind, body, and spirit. I find that crafting for others not only results in gifts that I like to give, but it also allows me a sliver of meditation space, time for myself.

With that in mind, I'm offering a FREE gift with the purchase of my new book, Handmade, Holiday, Homicide. The gift includes instructions, patterns, and images for thirteen crafty projects. Some are appropriate to do with children; some aren't. All are thrifty and don't require special equipment.

Here's the list:

* A trio of Christmas Carolers
* An Icosahedron Ornament
* Crocheted Necklace
* A Snowman Luminaria
* A Spa Basket

Scented bath crystals are relaxing and help you sleep at night.

* Fantasy Jars
* A Turtle Trinket Keeper
* Gingerbread Men
* A Quilted Glasses Case
* A Scrapbook Album in a Folder
* A Dollhouse in a 3-Ring Binder
* Mini Book Earrings
* A Book Garden


Included with the FREE gift are six yummy recipes!

But hurry...these are only available if you purchase your copy of Handmade, Holiday, Homicide on or before December 15, 2014 (the release date).

Grab your copy today:  http://www.amazon.com/Handmade-Holiday-Homicide-Lowenstein-Scrap-N-Craft-ebook/dp/B00PA26YL2/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1417791560&sr=8-1&keywords=Handmade+Holiday+Homicide

Excerpt from Handmade, Holiday, Homicide

Book #10 in the Kiki Lowenstein Mystery Series

 

by Joanna Campbell Slan

 

 

 

Chapter 1

 

People think that being pregnant is all about your growing belly, but the truth is, it also messes with your head. It's like for every inch my waistband expands, I lose ten points of my IQ. Maybe it's because I don't get much sleep anymore. My skin itches, the baby pokes me with his feet, and the indigestion causes a burning in my throat. Don't even get me started on the hormones. Whatever the scientific reason for my brain fog, I'm just not as sharp as usual.

My fiancé Detective Chad Detweiler and I were lying in bed talking one night a couple of weeks before Christmas, when he said, "I've been thinking about baby names."

"Oh, you have?"

"Yes, in fact, I've been giving it a lot of thought. I think we ought to name our son Helmut Detweiler."

Thank goodness it was dark. I could feel my mouth flop open. I couldn't believe what he was saying. "Name our son what?"

"Helmut Englebert Detweiler. That's a good, strong German name."

I couldn't even respond; I was that stunned.

Detweiler continued, "We could call him Mutt for short."

I gasped.

"Mutt Detweiler. It has a certain ring to it," he said.

The bed started shaking.

Detweiler was laughing.

"You!" I pummeled him with my fists. "You had me going."

"Yeah," he said, chuckling. "You believed me!"

I sighed. "Wow. For a minute there, I was really worried."

Detweiler rolled over and raised himself on his elbows so he could stare down at me. "You shouldn't have been. You know I can't name our kid without your approval."

"And you guessed I wouldn't be in favor of Mutt."

"Yeah, I guessed."

I raised my head to meet his lips and kissed him. "Well, you guessed right."

Chapter 2

Wednesday, December 1

 

"My fingers are crossed," I whispered, holding up my right hand, while Ester grabbed my left. I leaned over my friend to tell her granddaughter, "Good luck, Caitlyn!"

All eyes watched the front of the room, as the representative from the St. Louis Art Museum stepped to the podium.

"Now the moment we've all been waiting for. I'm pleased to announce the winner of this year's Demski Award, including a four-year scholarship to Indiana University in Bloomington, Indiana," he said, smoothing his red and navy silk tie nervously. A volunteer handed him an envelope, and I sneaked another peek at Caitlyn. Like her grandmother, Ester Field, she has a round face and vivid blue eyes. Caitlyn was biting her lower lip in anticipation, and I couldn't blame her. This scholarship meant the world to her. It also meant a pile of money, as it would trade the winner's piece of art for a four year, all expenses paid scholarship.

Caitlyn had inherited her grandmother's love of crafting. In fact, it was Ester who started the Crafting Cuties twenty years ago, two years before Caitlyn was born. Since then the number of members had dwindled to four regulars, but even so, the CC enjoyed themselves. They got together once a month to work on projects and to share craft ideas. Okay, some of their end products were corny, but many were very nice. The women offered each other a great support network. Caitlyn had grown up at her grandmother's knee, trying her hand at all sorts of crafts.

Eventually, she'd settled on sculpting.

To the left of us was Caitlyn's entry for the Demski Award, the highest honor you could achieve as an art student in the metro-St. Louis area. On a three-foot high plinth sat the sculpture of a girl walking beside a lion as her one hand rested on its mane. How Caitlyn had pulled off such a remarkable piece was beyond all my imaginings. Ester told me that her granddaughter had spent day after day at the St. Louis Zoo watching the lions, studying them, and sketching them as they moved around their enclosure. I wouldn't doubt it. A lot of student work is derivative, and frankly, it looks second generation, but Caitlyn's "Girl with a Lion" fairly vibrated with life. She had managed to capture both the majesty of the king of beasts, and the innocence of the young woman.

Rising above us on its column, the statue was truly breath-taking.  Since I'm short, I found myself staring up into the jaws of the lion, admiring the sharp teeth and the curl of his tongue. The details impressed me, from the furled edges of his lips as they bordered his mouth to the way his heels hovered over the platform. Lions are digitigrades or toewalkers, so the backs of their feet never touch the ground. Caitlyn had taken such care with his mane and the tuft of his tail that you could make out the individual strands of hair. Unthinkingly, I leaned in, trying to see her work more closely.

"Please stand back, ma'am," said a guard wearing a navy blue uniform.

"Sorry." I stepped away from the artwork and turned my full attention to the presentation. The small meeting room was packed with people, all waiting to hear who had won the scholarship. The work of six students was represented, but Caitlyn's was the only three-dimensional piece of art. That alone made it a winner in my book, but honestly, I couldn't imagine that the judges weren't impressed by her effort.

 The presenter jammed his finger under the flap of the envelope. No one made a sound. Even Eudora, Ester's sister, was quiet for once. That's really saying something, because Eudora needs to be the center of attention. When I tried to teach the Crafting Cuties about Zentangle, Eudora had refused to shut up. I had to talk over her to give my instructions.

But that had been the least of the problems that Eudora had caused. When I asked her to be careful and move away from the display table, Eudora laughed. Two seconds later, she dumped a large plastic cup of cola all over my work, carelessly pouring her favorite beverage over my pen and ink drawings.

I glanced over to see what Eudora was up to. She sat perfectly still in her motorized scooter on the outskirts of the crowd. When the gentleman stepped to the podium, the group had taken two steps forward, closer to the front of the room. Everyone wanted to hear what he had to say, and even with a microphone in front of them, sometimes people forget to talk into it.

I studied Eudora for a minute and noted the surly tilt of her chin. Given how nasty she was, it was hard to believe that Ester and Caitlyn were part of the same family. Like her sister and her grand-niece, Eudora had a round face, but her eyes were a cross between green and blue. But none of Eudora's features could be thought of as kind, because as far as I could tell, she didn't have a kind bone in her body. Thinking back, I couldn't remember hearing her say one kind word to anybody.

Fortunately, Eudora seemed to have realized this was Caitlyn's time to shine, because for once, her lips were sealed. She sat there pouting on the padded seat of her motorized scooter and stared straight ahead.

The ripping of paper took my attention back to the man on the podium. He'd jammed his finger under the flap of the envelope. Now he extracted a notecard and scanned the message. Clearing his throat, the presenter said, "I'm pleased to announce that this year's Demski Art Scholarship goes to—"

I squeezed Ester's hand.

"Caitlyn Robinson!"

"Oh! Oh! Oh!" Caitlyn threw her hand over her mouth. Tears sprang from her eyes as she turned to Ester. "Bubbie, can you believe it? Thank you, thank you for encouraging me. I would have never tried for this without you!"

The two women, old and young, grabbed each other in a happy embrace.

Over the hubbub of the crowd, I heard a motor rev.

What idiot chose to vacuum the carpet? I wondered.

"Congratulations, Caitlyn," said another young artist, a young woman coming up from behind to give Caitlyn a hug.

The motor revved again. This time louder.

"Way to go, Caitlyn!" said a spotty-faced boy as he clapped the winner on the back.

Caitlyn blushed a deep crimson. "Thanks, Eitan."

"Stop it, ma'am," said a deep voice behind us.

I didn't care to turn around and look at the mischief maker. Instead, all my energy was focused on Caitlyn as she graciously accepted one congratulations after another. To my joy, the losers all seemed happy for the girl. Most of them even admitted that she was by far the most worthy candidate for the Demski.

"Can you believe it?" Ester wiped her eyes with a shaking hand. "My grandbaby's work will be here in the art museum for everyone to see and enjoy. Best of all, she'll be able to go away to college. She's been wanting to go to U of I ever since I took her down to Brown County to see all the artists. I hate to have her so far away, but she'll get a good education there. Maybe even be able to make a living doing what she loves."

"It's unbelievable," I agreed, thinking back and remembering the beautiful album Ester had made of the trip she and her granddaughter had taken together. "That statue is fantastic. I took a few good photos of it. I can't wait to show my fri—"

But my sentence was interrupted by a loud crash.

All of us turned toward the noise.

"Ahh!" screamed a woman.

The crowd parted.

On the floor, in a million pieces, was Caitlyn's statue.

Right beside the mess sat Eudora Field. She had both hands on the steering wheel of her scooter, and she wore a great big grin on her face.

 

< > < > < >

 

Pre-order your copy today! Go to http://www.tinyurl.com/HandmadeHH for a December 15, 2014 release.