How I Made a 15 cm Epoxy Resin Chameleon

Mica in the mold, a purchased silicone mold, and a small paint job on the eyes

This chameleon is cast epoxy resin, about 15 cm long and 4 to 5 cm high. Not a palm-sized trinket. It sits on a shelf like a small ornament, with a curled tail, a crest along the back, and enough weight that it does not feel like a toy.

I did not sculpt it. The shape comes from a purchased silicone mold. The colour is mica powder brushed into the mold before the resin went in, so the gold, copper, and pink(the pink you see is from colour I put into the resin)the gold/copper sits in the surface rather than being mixed through the whole pour. The eyes got a second pass with a brush and a different colour so the pupil and iris read clearly against the metallic body.
 

What you need

- A chameleon (or similar) silicone mold, large enough for a piece around 15 cm
- Epoxy resin and hardener, mixed to the maker’s ratio
- Mica powder in the colours you want (I used warm metallics: gold, copper) -resin dye red
- A soft brush for the powder, and a finer brush for the eyes
- Mixing cups, stir sticks, gloves, and a level surface
- Optional: a bit of acrylic or resin-safe paint for the eye detail
 

How to cast it

1. Clean the mold and set it on a level tray. Dust and fingerprints show up in a glossy cast.
2. Brush mica into the mold, working it into the crest, the feet, the tail spiral, and the eye sockets. Heavier powder in the recesses gives deeper colour. Lighter dust on the high points keeps the metallic shift. You do not need to coat every millimetre; bare spots still take on colour from resin that picks up loose powder as you pour.
3. Mix the epoxy exactly to the stated ratio. Stir slowly, scraping the sides and bottom, until the mix is even and most of the streaks are gone. A fast stir traps bubbles. Mix in any resin colour you choose, you will only see hints of it where the mica is thinner.
4. Pour in a thin stream, starting at the lowest part of the mold and letting the resin rise. Tap the mold gently, or run a toothpick along the toes and the crest, to release trapped air. For a piece this size, a single pour is usually enough if your resin’s working time allows it.
5. Cover it so dust cannot settle, and leave it to cure for the full time on the bottle. Do not demold early. A 15 cm cast holds heat as it cures, so keep it out of a hot windowsill.
6. Once it is fully hard, flex the silicone and ease the chameleon out. Trim any thin flash along the belly or the toes with a sharp blade.
7. Touch up the eyes. A small brush and a contrasting colour — I used a different mica tone, worked into the eye — makes the red pupil and the pale iris stand out from the gold body. Let that dry or cure before you handle it much.
8. If the surface is a little dull where you sanded a seam, a thin clear coat of the same epoxy brings the gloss back. Skip that if you like the cast finish as it is.

A few things that matter on a piece this size

Mica brushed into the mold gives a stronger colour shift than mica stirred into the cup, and you use less powder. The tradeoff is that the back of the cast, the side that was open, will be paler. On this chameleon that face is the belly, so it does not show when he is sitting.

Work with a window open or a fan pulling air away from you, and wear gloves. Epoxy is a skin sensitizer. Do not pour it near food, and do not sand the cured piece without a mask.

If your mold is two-part, clamp it before you pour and expect a seam to clean up. A one-piece mold like the one I used is simpler, as long as the undercuts (toes, tail curl, crest) are flexible enough to release.

The finished chameleon is a shelf piece: about the length of a hand, high enough that the eye sits well above the surface he rests on. The curled tail and the splayed front foot are what make the size read as a decoration rather than a charm.

How to Stop Running and Actually See What Is in Front of You

Fall is the easiest season to practice this. The colour does the advertising. You still have to stop.

I took the crow on a walk. Dead branches, blue sky, a spruce still green on the right, and one black bird sitting the limb like it had the afternoon booked. It was not doing anything useful. It was watching. That is the whole picture.

The other shot is older, near Okotoks. Aspen gone yellow, one white trunk standing out in front of the stand, grass already tired, sky flat and grey. Nothing rare. Just a stand of trees on a day when I was not in a hurry.

How to do the walk

1. Leave the house without a destination that has a closing time. A loop near home is enough. River path, coulee edge, the block with the old trees.
2. Put the phone in a pocket for the first ten minutes. If you open it at the trail-head, you will spend the walk looking for a post instead of a bird.
3. Walk slower than your normal pace. Not a stroll for show. Just slow enough that a branch moves and you notice.
4. Stop when something holds. The crow did. So did the white trunk against the yellow. You do not need a rare animal. A bird that stays put is enough.
5. Look at the edges, not only the subject. Bare limbs against sky. Green spruce next to dead wood. Yellow leaves with the grass already brown underneath. The picture is usually in the contrast.
6. Then take the photo, if you still want it. One or two. Not a burst. The crow will leave if you fuss.
7. Put the phone away again and finish the loop looking.

What you are Practising

Most days the walk is transport. Parking lot to errand, errand to car. Fall gives you a reason to break that. The leaves will not stay. The crow might not be on that limb tomorrow. Neither of those facts requires a scenic viewpoint or a full afternoon.

You are not trying to collect views. You are trying to arrive in the one you are already standing in.

Near Okotoks that can be a coulee, a shelterbelt, a path along the Sheep River, or the trees at the edge of a field. Go while the yellow is still on the aspen. Mornings are quieter. Late afternoon light sits longer on the trunks.

If you only have twenty minutes, take twenty minutes. Stop once. Look at whatever is actually there — a bird, a white trunk, the way the dead branches cut the sky.

That is the how-to. The rest is just walking.

Dragon in an Egg: Pour It, Paint It, Don’t Rush It

This little dragon is one of mine. Eco resin, a mold, and a lot of paint. He is sitting in a cracked blue egg with a white, speckled interior, gold horns and wing, green-blue scales, and that slightly surprised look you get when you have just hatched and the world is too bright.

People always ask if they can do this. Yes. Buy a mold, buy eco resin, buy paint, pour, demold, paint. That is the short version. The honest version is that the pour is the easy afternoon. The part that makes it look finished is everything after that.

What you need

- A dragon-in-egg silicone mold (the kind sold for resin or soap)
- Eco resin or another two-part casting resin meant for figurines (read the label; “eco” still needs gloves and air)
- Mixing cups, stir sticks, a kitchen scale if the resin is mixed by weight
- Gloves, and a window or fan
- Fine sandpaper (around 400–800 grit)
- Acrylic paints: blues, greens, gold, a bit of brown or black for shading
- A small brush set — one tiny detail brush matters more than a fancy kit
- Optional: metallic or iridescent paint, a clear satin or gloss sealer
- Patience you did not budget for

The pour

1. Read the resin instructions once, then again. Mix ratio is not a suggestion.
2. Work on a covered table. Wear gloves.
3. Mix only what the mold needs, plus a little extra. Stir slow so you do not beat in a cloud of bubbles.
4. Pour into the mold in a thin stream. Tap the mold on the table to walk bubbles up.
5. Let it cure the full time on the bottle. Overnight is common. Peeking early is how you fingerprint a half-set dragon.
6. Demold gently. If it fights you, wait longer.

You now have a pale casting. That is not the finished piece. That is the homework.

Clean-up and paint

Sand the seam lines and any rough spots. Wipe the dust off.

Paint in layers, not one heroic coat.

- Egg exterior: blues over the scale pattern, a lighter blue or grey in the recesses so the “shell” reads as shell.
- Egg interior: off-white or pale blue, then a speckle with a dry brush or a toothbrush flick.
- Dragon body: green and teal, darker in the folds, lighter on the snout, belly, and knuckles.
- Horns and wing: gold, then a tiny bit of brown in the grooves so it does not look like a sticker.
- Eyes: leave a highlight. A dead eye kills a cute dragon.

Let each layer dry. If a colour looks cheap, it usually needs another thin coat, not more paint in the brush.

Seal when you are done and the paint is fully dry. Satin is kinder than high gloss on a hatchling.

The part I will not pretend is quick

Mixing and pouring is an hour, plus cure time. Painting this one took far longer than the pour. I keep going until I am happy, and “happy” is a moving target. You will miss a seam. You will get gold on the snout. You will think it is finished, sleep on it, and add three more shadows in the morning.

That is the craft. The mold gets you the shape. You get the dragon.

If you try one, start with a small mold, mix less resin than you think, and paint slower than you want to. The egg will wait.

How to Rescue Mushy Peaches and Soft Plums with One Jar of Fridge Jam

No peeling, no packet pectin, no full canning day, no human-wrinkle joke reference. 🤣

Late-season peaches from a BC trip. Four large ones left. Flavour was meh. One from the original bunch had already gone moldy — always the one near the bottom.

There were also a lot of plums still on the counter, already soft and wrinkly, the kind that will not last another week. A few days earlier I had put up about 25 jars of straight plum jam the long way: full water-bath, shelf-stable, the whole process. I did not want to fire all of that up again for one small rescue batch.

So I made fridge jam. One jar. No peeling. No packet pectin. No measuring cups lined up like a science project. The fruit that was about to be compost is now a jam that actually tastes like fruit.

This is how.
What fridge jam is (and is not)
Fridge jam is cooked fruit and sugar that sets enough to spread, then lives in the refrigerator. It is not canned. It is not shelf-stable. You do not water-bath it. You eat it in a few weeks.

That is the point. When you only have a handful of tired fruit, you do not owe it a full canning day.

What I used

- 4 large late-season peaches, unpeeled, chopped small
- About 15 plums (maybe more), already soft and wrinkly, unpeeled, chopped small
- About 1½ cups sugar (somewhere between 1 and 2 cups; I landed closer to 1½)
- A splash of water to get it started
- About 2 tablespoons lemon juice, plus more if a taste test said it was too sweet
- 1 clean jar with a lid (the jar in the photo)

No commercial pectin. Peaches and plums both have some of their own. Lemon juice helps the set and keeps the flavour from going flat.

How to do it

1. Wash the fruit. Cut out bruises, soft spots, and anything that looks off. Do not use moldy fruit. The one moldy peach from the bottom of the bag was already gone.

2. Leave the skins on. Chop the peaches and plums small. Skins cook down and add colour. That deep pink in the jar is mostly plum skin doing its job.

3. Put the chopped fruit in a pot with a splash of water so nothing sticks on the first few minutes.

4. Add the sugar and the lemon juice. Stir over medium heat until the sugar dissolves and the fruit starts to break down.

5. Cook and stir. This is the whole method. No timer that matters more than your eyes. The fruit will go from chunks in juice to a thicker, glossy mix that sheets off the spoon instead of running like syrup.

6. Taste as you go. If it is only sweet and the fruit has disappeared, add more lemon juice. That is what pulled this batch back. The peaches started with almost no flavour. Lemon and plum did the rescue.

7. When it looks like jam you would actually spread — thick, not glue, not soup — take it off the heat.

8. Spoon it into a clean jar, lid on, cool, then fridge.

That is the jar in the photo. One pot, one jar, fruit saved.

How you know it is done

- It coats the spoon.
- A little on a cold plate wrinkles when you push it.
- It tastes like fruit first, sugar second.

If it is still runny after a good cook, keep going. Fridge jam can be a little looser than shelf jam. It will thicken more as it cools.

How to keep it

Refrigerator only. Use a clean spoon every time. Plan to eat it within a few weeks. If you want jars that sit in the pantry all winter, that is a different project — the 25 jars of plum jam already covered that.

Why this works when the fruit is disappointing

Late peaches can be mushy and dull. Soft plums can feel like they missed their moment. Cooking them together with enough lemon concentrates what flavour is left and hides what isn’t. You are not trying to make perfect-peach jam. You are trying not to throw good-enough fruit in the bin.

This batch is not too sweet. You can taste the fruit. That is the test.

Look at the Sunset. Then Leave People Room to See It Too

Happy Friday!

I pulled over for this one. The sky was doing that late-September thing it does out here: peach and coral smeared across the clouds, the mountains gone to silhouette, the fields still holding a last strip of green. The road was quiet. The fence line was quiet. For a few minutes the whole scene just sat there and let itself be looked at.

That is the whole point of getting out early.

You leave when it is still easy to find a shoulder, a pull-out, a bit of grass that does not already have three tripods and a family picnic on it. You give yourself time. You wait for the light. You take the picture, then you actually look. The phone goes down. The shoulders drop. You notice the way the colour sits on the ridges and how the yellow line on the pavement is the only bright thing left on the ground.

It is a good day to do that. Any clear evening is. We spend so much time rushing toward the next thing that we forget the sky is putting on a show whether we booked a reservation or not.

Then the latecomers arrive.

They always do. They swing in after the best light has already started, after the spots are taken, and they treat the remaining inches like they are public property that belongs to whoever is boldest. A little shove. A bag dropped in front of someone already set up. A body planted so close you can smell their laundry soap. The unspoken message is: I showed up, so I am entitled to the front.

I get tired of it. I do not think that makes me a mean cat. It makes me someone who got up early, found a quiet place, and would like to keep the quiet.

Being kind is not only holding the door or saying please. Being kind is also noticing that another person already occupies that two feet of gravel and choosing not to occupy it too. Space is not an insult. It is basic manners. You can still see the sunset from three steps back. The mountains do not get smaller because you are not standing on someone else’s toes.

If you arrive late, you get the view that is left. That is the deal. The people who planned ahead did not do it so they could pretend they are more important. They did it so they could stand still for ten minutes and watch the colour change. Let them.

So this Friday: pull over if the sky is putting on a show. Take the picture. Then look with your actual eyes. And if someone is already there, leave them the room they claimed with their own early start.

The sunset does not need an audience packed shoulder to shoulder. It just needs people willing to stop.

What do you think? Have you noticed the same thing at lookouts and roadside stops, or am I just lucky in my timing?

 

How to See Five Big Crowsnest Pass Stops in One Short Drive

 

If you are driving Highway 3 through southwest Alberta and want more than a gas-and-go, this loop is the one. Five stops. About twenty minutes of driving between them. Waterfall, a famous dead tree, coal-mine ruins, Canada’s worst mining disaster, and the Frank Slide.

KassDays walked the route in this video:

5 Incredible Stops in Alberta (All Within 20 Minutes!)
https://youtu.be/h8feqfWtB6Q

How to do the route

Go west from Pincher Creek / Lundbreck or east from the rest of the Pass. Stay on Highway 3. Pull off when the signs say so. You do not need a full hiking day.

Lundbreck Falls
Provincial recreation area just off the highway. Twin drops on the Crowsnest River, platforms at the top, stairs into the canyon if you want the mist. Picnic tables. Fishing. Campground downstream. Stay out of the water above and right below the falls. Parking fills on nice days; use the overflow lot across the bridge if you have to.

The Burmis Tree
Limber pine, centuries old, dead since the late 1970s, still standing because the community braced it after wind and vandals. Pull-off beside Highway 3. Read the panel. Take the photo. Do not climb it or lean on the supports. It is a heritage symbol, not a jungle gym.

Leitch Collieries Provincial Historic Site
Stone ruins of a Canadian-owned coal plant that lasted less than ten years. Manager’s house, powerhouse, coke ovens. Self-guided paths. Donation in summer. Washrooms and picnic tables mid-May to Labour Day. Dogs welcome; leash on the paths. Stay on the gravel walks. Do not climb unstable walls.

Hillcrest Mine Disaster Memorial
Short detour into Hillcrest. June 19, 1914. 189 men killed. Worst coal-mining disaster in Canadian history. Cemetery, mass graves, later memorial. This is a working cemetery and a place of mourning. Keep voices down. Stay off graves. Do not treat it like a photo booth.

Frank Slide
April 29, 1903. Turtle Mountain let go. Part of the town of Frank buried in under two minutes. Seventy to ninety people died; most are still under the rock. Walk the marked paths on the boulder field. The Interpretive Centre is the place for the full story if you have extra time. Do not scramble off-trail on loose rock.

 How to keep the day decent

• Check 511 Alberta. Pass weather changes fast.
• Fuel in Pincher Creek, Blairmore, or Coleman.
• Bear spray if you wander any trail beyond the viewpoints.
• Pack out everything.
• Private property and cemetery rules are not suggestions.
• Pair the loop with Waterton, Castle, or a night in the Pass if you have the day. Do not try to rush Frank Slide and a long hike in the same afternoon.

Beauty here is mixed with grief. The waterfall is easy. The tree is stubborn. The ruins show how fast a fortune can fail. Hillcrest and Frank ask you to stand still for a minute.

Watch the walk-through, then drive it yourself:

https://youtu.be/h8feqfWtB6Q

Helen
Helen’s How To

Rowley Alberta, the Town That Refused to Die | Exploring Ghost Towns

 

 

How to Explore Alberta Ghost Towns (Without Crossing the Line): Rowley, the Town That Refused to Die

If you are hunting Alberta ghost towns, abandoned prairie villages, or a Drumheller day trip that is more than hoodoos, start with Rowley.

Rowley sits in Starland County, north of Drumheller in the Alberta Badlands. In the 1920s it had hundreds of people, a train station, stores, a hospital, a church, and three grain elevators on the skyline. Then the Dirty Thirties, better roads, and the end of rail traffic emptied it out. Today eight to twelve people still live there. They mow the grass. They keep the saloon. They call it a historical village more than a ghost town — and they are right.

KassDays walked the streets in this 23-minute video already live on YouTube:

Inside the Abandoned Ghost Town That Refused to Die! (9 Residents)
https://youtu.be/tSDHEJurHYE

You will see the three grain elevators, the old hospital, the church, the bank, Sam’s Saloon, the community hall, and the speeder car on a short stretch of track. Hollywood has used Rowley as a period set. Locals still run Pizza Night on the last Saturday of the month to pay for repairs. That is why the place looks cared for instead of collapsing.

How to find Alberta ghost towns to explore

• Search “Alberta ghost towns map,” Starland County, Special Areas, Crowsnest Pass, and Highway 9 / Highway 56 corridors near Drumheller.
• Good public or semi-public stops: Rowley, Dorothy, Wayne, East Coulee, Atlas Coal Mine, Leitch Collieries, Nordegg, Bankhead (Banff area ruins), and parts of the Crowsnest Pass.
• Use Travel Alberta, municipal heritage pages, and recent visitor photos. Old map pins are often wrong or on private land.
• Pair Rowley with Drumheller, the Royal Tyrrell Museum, the hoodoos, and the Atlas Coal Mine for a full Badlands loop.

Mind the signs. This part matters.

Many “ghost towns” still have residents, private houses, working farms, and buildings owned by the community association. Rowley is one of them.

• If a sign says Private Property, No Trespassing, or Residents Only — stop. Do not walk around it, do not try the door, do not film through windows.
• Stay on public roads, marked paths, and clearly open townsite areas.
• Do not enter boarded buildings, climb elevators, or treat someone’s home like a movie set.
• Dogs on leash. Pack out everything. Do not move artifacts.
• Ask before flying a drone.
• Pizza Night and posted summer tours are the welcome mat. Random weekday peeking into yards is not.

A ghost town that still has nine people in it stays alive because visitors treat it like a living place, not a free-for-all ruin.

Watch the full walk-through here:
https://youtu.be/tSDHEJurHYE