Kris loves old barns that are falling down, all the junk inside them and around them, and rocks. She will roam the 48 states in search of "good stuff". What emerges from all this "stuff", among other things, are bird houses to die for. They are conglomerations of glass doorknobs, old hardwood, hinges, keyholes, and things even Kris couldn't name. Combined with worn barnwood, they are whimsical smile producers.

We received our first birdhouse as a 40th birthday present to my husband. It was brown, with a porch all around it, a gone fishing sign over the door hole, and a tiny fishing pole made out of a bamboo plant stake. Sounds corny, but it was charming. Not too long after that, Kris sold one of her bird houses to Jennifer Montana, for Joe. Our second birdhouse was a present for my birthday. Since my birthday is on Valentines Day, Kris came up with something romantic. The roof is the top to an old miner's lunchbox. The sides are barnwood painted pale yellow, and two incredibly life-like love birds are painted on it. Our latest avian domain is a tall baby blue obelisk affair I couldn't resist buying. It has a glass doorknob for a perch, a tiny antique children's fishing reel on the front, and a metal fish hanging off a line. Honest, you just gotta see em.

Kris reminds me of a Navy saying of my Dad's; "If it moves salute it, if it doesn't move, paint it". She paints rocks that become rabbits, sheep, dogs and cats. She can paint a sleeping cat curled in the bottom of a wooden salad bowl that you want to poke awake. It's one thing to paint on a flat surface, but creating depth of field in a concave surface is something else.

Her angels are wonders. As far from lifelike as you can get, these flights of fancy are fun, colorful, and just plain crazy. Fashioned from metal, wood, hardware, dowels, springs and anything else handy; they are big, bold, and anything but traditional. I always admired them, but never fell in love with one until I beheld the Angel Mermaid at the top of the page.

Kris had been listening to me tell her all about the "dream" house Dan and I were building on the Smith River. I kiddingly call it "The House of Fish", since people are always giving us fish knickknacks. When you are married to a fishing guide this goes with the territory; but I have to admit that I push it the limits of good taste. One day I showed up at the shop and Kris had this really weird grin on her face. I looked up on the wall and there was my Mermaid Angel. It was love at first site. Now I have to admit she is an acquired taste. She is a strange cross between Miss Piggy and a carp. She has huge eyes, a wooden nose, big pink dots on her cheeks and her hair is a straightened out spring. Her wings are some sort of tarnished metal, and I think she lost her halo somewhere in the water.

She even has earrings fashioned from two tiny springs, and sports a dolphin necklace. She has dowels for arms; but most important she has caught a fish. Granted it is a checkerboard fish, of suspect origin; but the gal has definitely scored. now that's a good sign. You can lose your halo; but don't lose a fish. She has a Zen quality about her.

Dan had still not seen this treasure until I hung her next to my Jacuzzi tub. I called him to come up and admire her. All he could say was "WHAT THE HELL IS THAT??" From this I gathered he was not as enchanted as I was with her; but compromise is the name of the game when two people are building a house together. So the Angel Mermaid remains on the wall, gazing down at me beneficently.

After all, she may be a crazy looking broad; but she's landed a fish!!

Since we moved I haven't had a chance to see Kris' latest creative projects. Whatever they might be, I'm sure someone is smiling in front of one right now. You may not have the "eye, or the talent to put it all together, but you sure appreciate it when you see it.

Columnist Joan Carter co-owns, with her husband, Dan Carter's Guide Service.