WARNING!! This blog entry is not for those with clown phobias!!
Let me preface this entry by saying that I love my husband's family. I'm quite sure that for every one thing I find perplexing about them, they find at least 20 items perplexing about me. Some of the art work that I find in their homes baffles me. But then again, they may think my 8X10 framed glossy of a turkey vulture head on my wall or my pelican pelvic bone are a little bizaar. I should have seen it coming.
This is Plaster Man, a life size plaster cast of Non Birding Bill. He did this for a show he was in during his under grad years. When I first knew him he kept it on a chair in his apartment. It scared the pants off of me everytime I walked in not expecting someone to be sitting there. For the time being, Plaster Man resides with NBB's parents. If we ever get a house, he'll come live with us.
This was actually at a neighbor's house. They had more than one. I don't quite get the sleeping children theme. One is kind of cute. Several looks like you have a collection of children who died of carbon monoxide poisoning.
Now, this I don't get at all. Children sleeping on toys, that I could kind of see as being cute. But the dolls standing the corner? This is the Cleveland Indians version of the doll and I like how the doll is standing in a corner like a naughty kid, but still keeps the catchers mit handy just in case a fast ball should come his way. This was in the guest room and was about three feet high. It looked even scarier at night. I take that back, it looked scary all the time. When you walked by the room you would think, "Who is that kid in there? And why is it being so quiet and still?"
Here's another corner doll. This was at another relative's house and they had several stashed in various corners. Doesn't it remind you of the Blair Witch Project? Gives me the heebie jeebies.
This was also in the guest room. Maybe I've watched too many Twilight Zone episodes, but I just can't sleep with that thing smiling at the end of the bed. You know it's just going to come to life at 2am and stuff that little baseball down your throat.
My mother inlaw is a clown collector. Must be the reason why she welcomed me with open arms into the Stiteler clan. The clowns are everywhere; tucked in cabinets and stacked on shelves. There's a glass case full of them at the top of the staircase that stare at you with that blank colorful look. Some are smiling, some look depressed as all get out.