musings of a scrappin' mom

a lot can happen in five years

2010-06-26T15:18:00.003-05:00

Poking around some of my burned cd’s from a few years ago, I found a questionnaire from 2005. I laughed at how much my life has changed in just five years and decided to compare and contrast. This “year” would encompass a fiscal year of 2009-2010.

What did you spend fun money on?

2005:

1. piano lessons for kids

2. beads for me

3. stampin and scrappin supplies

4. books for read alouds

2010:

1. violin/viola/piano lessons for kids

2. yeh. That would be it.

3. Wait - heels. How could I forget my heel binge?

What happened in your life that you never expected to happen?

2005: Tom would finally decide to rehab houses instead of building new ones! YES!!

2010: Gosh, where to begin. So much happened that was unexpected. The most altering would be going back to school while working full-time.

What were your biggest achievements?

2005: Deciding to pitch a ton of things I thought we had to have – we don’t have them and we don’t miss them!

2010: Going back to school and working full time without losing my mind. Ok, half of it is gone. (ps, still pitching tons of things with no visible appearances of having done so. Nine of us bring too much into the house at an alarming rate; it is hard to keep up.)

What were your biggest challenges?

2005: Schooling the kids with joy and intent – still a challenge!

2010: Going back to school and working full time while still being a mom to seven kids.

Who surprised you this year? In what way?

2005: Tom – he bought a dog – Lucy.

2010: Bob – he hired me after interviewing “16 other highly qualified women.” THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart. I am so honored to be a part of this team, one of the guys and your right hand “man.” I would say that you boys will not rub off on me, except I smell Paul Sebastian even as I write this.

Mr. D - finally decided to join the AF. FINALLY. FINALLY. And actually liking it.

What was your favorite TV show?

2005: Survivor followed by Lost and then 24

2010: Lost - no time for tv, really AT ALL while going to school. It is a bummer. I miss TV. I miss a lot of things and people. :(

What is on your wish list?

2005: a digital camera that takes photos that don’t look like digital

2010: a great lens for indoor sports shots. (I know you think I fell off the face of the earth, but rest assured I write all the time, you just don’t see it, and I take thousands of photos still, I just don’t have the time to upload them. Just for the swim season alone, I took 999 good shots. I don’t know why I didn’t take that 1,000^thgood shot. )

What were your favorite phrases?

2005: “who did this?”

2010: "who did this?" ok, Z, I’m stealing your line: “It’s tricky….”

What was your favorite food?

2005: Ice cream as usual…

2010: food… I think I remember that… Mostly anything I don’t have to cook. No time to cook. Seriously, how do women who work full time cook??? When does it happen?

What was the most important lesson you learned?

2005: We are here to serve others, but most people don’t think so!

2010: oh the lessons…. The many, many lessons. How about one…. Trust no one, especially the ones who say, “You can trust me.” Ha.

What was the best gift you gave?

2005: Heidi’s flip flops signed by Trace Adkins

2010: uh…. :-X

What was your most extravagant purchase? What is your newest tech item?

2005: Direcway – satellite internet service for both questions. (2010 - Bah hate direcway/hughesnet and it is STILL extravagant.)

2010: laptop for school

What should you have done more of?

2005: Being joyful in all things!

2010: Cleaning, but…. When? When to do anything anymore.

What should you have done less of?

2005: Cleaning – ok, seriously, throwing less temper tantrums abut the kids’ messes.

2010: uh… I would say working and schooling, but that is mandatory right now. Less of... Less of... worrying?

What made you sad?

2005: Seeing my kids grow up so fast and Tom not being able to spend much time with them.

2010: losing people I love.

What gave you joy?

2005: Melodie and Lauch at their wedding and seeing extended family this year at reunions and weddings.

2010: my kids finding things in life that give them joy.

What is your motto for the year?

2005: Family First – probably the motto for all the years!

2010: Only one more year and it will be over (school).

What new skills did you learn this year?

2005: Mosaics from Nancy

2010: Moving through office politics and trying not to take it personally… well, my office is fantastic, so I should rephrase to “business” politics. Maybe that means not letting those who are satisfied with mediocrity not deter me from wanting excellence. No, I’m not quite saying it right… The skill of not letting THEM get under my skin. They will never deter me from MY wanting excellence. Maybe they deter others, but not me. I still rant and rave about it, though. How about a fun skill. I would like to say Viking knit, but …. OH, wait - Kumihimo. I learned that. But I never finished my necklace.

What did you do on an average day?

2005: Clean, school the kids, cook something at the last minute, read aloud, surf the internet, take care of the baby, Mr. M.

2010: get up at 6:30, get to work by 7:40 ish….. work until 5 ish…. Get to home, do homework with kids, drive them all over creation, do my own homework, crash and burn while reading…. Get a little sleep and do it all over again the next day. It’s a very full life. Most of the time, I really like it. I just miss some things and know I have to be patient. They will come back into my life after a while. Right? That’s what I keep telling myself.

Which did you do more of? Smile or cry?

2005: Smile – I never cry except at movies or songs or things that take my breath away!

2010: hahahahahahahahhahHAHAHA. Oh my gosh!! I think the Fall of 2006 unleashed my tears for all time. But I do smile more than I cry. And I laugh a lot. I love laughing.

What do you think was your most valuable contribution?

2005: Other than schooling my children, it would have to be our sacrificially giving to Katrina victims and the Afghanistan refugees. It was great to watch the kids give away some of their favorite things.

2010: working at the school and the privilege of being a part of an incredible team to shape the entire system’s future in the most exciting ways.

What did someone say to you that surprised you?

2005: That I gave the most fun home party they’d ever been to. When I heard it more than once, I started to believe it!

2010: Bob – “You have director written all over you.” Where? I thought I scrubbed that off.

What was your most memorable journey?

2005: The one where I took stock of what is important to me in this life and where I really want to go.

2010: oh baby. The craziest and most memorable year of my life, beginning in mid-August. The journey has.not.stopped.since.

What was your fashion like?

2005: Pull on pants with elastic, nursing top with jacket, bare feet or socks, necklace with bling.

2010: Business suits with definitely female tops, heels and BLING!!

The worst thing:

2005: kid drama

2010: losing key people in my life. I desperately need them and miss them in oh so many ways. :(

There, a blog entry from me. Finally. Seriously, though, I really do write. ALL THE TIME. :)

happy easter

2010-04-04T19:20:00.006-05:00

Well, Nancy and Theo, I took your emails and ran with it. (And I forced Miss J to become the artist to my imaginings.)

From Shakepeare's Omlet: "Alas, poor Yolk! I knew him, Horatio, after he came out of his shell - a fellow of infinite jest, of most eggscellent fancy. " (Omlet Act V, Scene I)

In his current position, Hank found it quite eggscruciating to be walking on eggshells all the time, but he was not ready to egg people on. However, he did become rather hard-boiled and eggsasperated.

His typical tricks were usually half-baked but cutting the egg in two always eggceeded everyone's eggspectations. However, tonight, something went horridly wrong and the audience scrambled to get out. After this eggcident, no one was willing to shell out for any more tickets. Great Over EZ knew when he was beaten and never practiced magic again; he later cracked.

well, I put the characters away - although they may seem a little shelltered, I am sure they are discussing the meaning of life and eggistentialism and all that jazz. Actually, they might be plotting about me behind my back. They look a little put out. I'm about to be poached, aren't I? You know what they say: One bad egg can ruin the whole bunch.

devilish, aren't I?

well, this entry is ova, as my brain is fried.... Shell I change the subject?

Christ is arisen! He is risen indeed...

Invictus

2009-12-04T22:13:00.002-05:00

One year, when I was a little girl, I went to a small private school about 20 minutes away from home. My mom, who was a teacher elsewhere, would drop me off at an apartment, one of the very few in the tiny ‘ville’ in which I lived. This apartment building housed one of the teachers at the small private school I attended. My parents paid her to drive me to the small private school I attended and in which she taught. Got it? I was 7 or 8 at the time, a small, scrawny snip of a thing.

I never went inside to wait for her. Nope. That wasn’t apparently part of the deal for some forgotten reason.

Every morning, waiting for her to appear, I would sit in her car, waiting, waiting, waiting, just so. After she was finished beautifying herself, she would finally exit the building and drive us both to our school.

Sometimes it seemed like forever until Ms Beautified Teacher would finally make her appearance. I was parked in that car under a tremendously huge old tree. I pondered the existence of it. I pondered how they created the apartment building around the tree. They didn’t chop it down. It remained smack dab in front of the building, and the cars had to park around it. As I sat under its branches, I pondered what was happening in the square apartment, the rare square apartment. How long could it possibly take to become beautiful? Did she forget about me? I would make up games to play with myself to make the time pass more quickly. I would count and decide she would have to come out before I got to 129 or 513 or 856 or whatever.

What kind of fun I could have climbing this tree. Maybe I could climb it and see what the heck was taking her so long in getting ready (to make it more enthralling, she lived on the second floor). Maybe I would see her fluffing her big hair. Maybe I would see her applying endless amounts of make up. Maybe I could throw rocks at the window to remind her that she had someone waiting for her.

What if I had to go to the bathroom? Where could I go? How long could I hold it? At the last minute, when I got the most desperate, she would finally come out and we would go to school. The next day it would start all over again.

One particular morning, my mother dropped me off per usual. It was in the middle of winter. The dress code for this small private school was “dresses only” for the girls, with no pants underneath, even when it was cold. This morning, it was freezing, literally. I sat in her car, getting colder by the minute. I tucked my legs under me and wrapped my arms tightly around me. I saw my breath. The windows were completely covered with snow and ice and I couldn’t see out. I felt incredibly lonely. The minutes dragged on, interminably. All the fun stories ran out, and the chill went through my skinny little self. This morning felt different, yet I didn’t know why or what to do. Those who know me, and know me well, know I don’t buck the system. I follow the rules. The rule was to stay in the car until she came out. She never came out, and it was too cold. I started to cry. I hated myself for crying. But I was abandoned.

As I remember it, sometime much, much later, I think my dad spied that the car was still there when he went to the local college where he taught. He found me in that car. The small private school had been closed, and we didn’t know it. I would have sat there all day and ended up a frozen little girl, quite dead, because I don’t ever buck the rules. I do what is expected of me. I sat there, patiently, doing my duty, going the distance, waiting in the car. Yep. Stupid. I know.

Sometimes I can still become that little girl quite easily - in that world, that ice cold, freezing lonely world of doing precisely what is expected of me and yet getting absolutely nowhere. It is a horrible feeling. It makes me feel small. Trapped. Utter helplessness washes over me. Despair leaks in. When will someone see? When will someone help?

Gone are the days where my daddy would drive by and think, “Hey, something is amiss” and rescue me. Right now there is no mighty mouse.

I have to do my own rescuing.

I know the following poem is “vogue” right now… there is a film about to hit theaters, but it is a poem that for the last few years, I have thought about a lot, being between a rock and a hard place.

Invictus

OUT of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
~William Ernest Henley

Sometimes I am that little girl. In fact, Wednesday and Thursday, I was that little girl. I crumbled, and for a time, let the despair once again wash over me.

Then I brushed myself off, and remembered, with my head unbowed, that I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.

I am unconquered.

standing before a giant

2009-11-12T07:15:00.003-05:00

I normally don't listen to "Christian" music, but my cd's have gone missing around here (hmmmm could it be that the kids don't like my musical tastes???? Seriously ALL of my cd's end up out of the car and in no-man's land) and I only have their cd's to grab while driving. This one song keeps going through my mind, on an endless loop; even in the middle of the night it plays in my brain.

Casting Crowns "Voice of Truth"

Oh, what I would do to have
the kind of faith it takes
To climb out of this boat I'm in
Onto the crashing waves
To step out of my comfort zone
Into the realm of the unknown
Where Jesus is,
And he's holding out his hand

But the waves are calling out my name
and they laugh at me
Reminding me of all the times
I've tried before and failed
The waves they keep on telling me
time and time again
"Boy, you'll never win,
you'll never win."

But the Voice of truth tells me a different story
the Voice of truth says "do not be afraid!"
and the Voice of truth says "this is for My glory"
Out of all the voices calling out to me
I will choose to listen and believe the Voice of truth

Oh, what I would do
to have the kind of strength it takes
To stand before a giant
with just a sling and a stone
Surrounded by the sound
of a thousand warriors
shaking in their armor
Wishing they'd have had the strength to stand

But the giant's calling out
my name and he laughs at me
Reminding me of all the times
I've tried before and failed
The giant keeps on telling me
time and time again
"Boy you'll never win,
you'll never win."

But the voice of truth tells me a different story
the Voice of truth says "do not be afraid!"
and the Voice of truth says "this is for My glory"
Out of all the voices calling out to me
I will choose to listen and believe the Voice of truth

But the stone was just the right size
to put the giant on the ground
and the waves they don't seem so high
from on top of them looking down
I will soar with the wings of eagles
when I stop and listen to the sound of Jesus
singing over me

But the Voice of truth tells me a different story
The Voice of truth says "do not be afraid!"
And the Voice of truth says "this is for my glory"
Out of all the voices calling out to me (calling out to me)
I will choose to listen and believe (I will choose to listen and believe)
I will choose to listen and believe the Voice of truth

I will listen and believe
I will listen and believe the Voice of truth
I will listen and believe
'Cause Jesus you are the Voice of truth
And I will listen to you.. oh you are the Voice of truth

Do not be afraid... the thing is, I don't swim, and I need a lifeline. The waves are crashing. And the giant... he is huge.

But I am huge-er

c is for...

2009-11-09T12:30:00.004-05:00

Beats me... what IS this thing?

I don’t know about you, but while cleaning my house, I’ll come across odds and ends and wonder, “What on EARTH do you belong to?” There is one thing in particular that I have been coming across for over a year now. It is rubber, gray, and curves into a circle – almost. It says, “I am important.” I say, “Why don’t you go around in a full circle, though?” Something triggers in my mind… a trigger that says, “I’ve seen you before once upon a time. You have use. You have purpose. I think I should keep you.” And I do.

I find it again and again as it mysteriously tends to escape, and I put it back, again and again, where I think it belongs. The front closet. I used to have a junk drawer that I threw this kind of stuff in, but I no longer have one of those. Therefore, it goes with the other gray things having unknown and mysterious yet exceptional qualities and characteristics of usefulness, in the front closet of gray-dom.

Speaking of gray, Mr. W has been sick. He’s had a fever for almost a week now and alternates between looking red hot and pasty gray. He is very chatty, and wants to watch movies with me while I do my school work. I’ve watched more Disney movies in one week than I have in years. Last night we watched Beauty and the Beast. It first came out when I was pregnant with Miss J, 17 years ago. I had morning sickness all the way until the end with her, and Mr. D was my only child. He and I watched it every day. It was the only time he was ever still. Just hearing the opening strains of the music makes me want to vomit, however. Funny, how sounds and smells can immediately elicit physical and emotional responses.

Mr. W has been through the thermometers this week. He is constantly checking to see how hot he is. I’d say he checks 20 times a day. He used the digital armpit thermometer until he accidentally dropped it while going to bathroom. Apparently he wanted to see how hot he was then, too. He washed it off, and it stopped working. His dad got him a new thermometer - a temple thermometer. We all had to play Star Trek with it, except we registered differently each time we took it. It didn’t work, despite all its coolness. I got the real guns out – the oral mercury, glass thermometer (at least I think it was the oral one. At any rate, it was thoroughly sanitized several times before I allowed Mr. W to use it). I shook it down and presented it to Mr. W with the ancient instructions of long ago: “Put this under your tongue, keep your mouth shut and don’t talk for three minutes.” It is hard for a child who has never had to do this before to “get” what all that means. It was especially hard since Mr. W loves to talk, and it was agony for him to sit still with his mouth shut for three minutes. He timed it and we’d look. That is also a talent – finding the reading of one of these babies. Mr. W has been hovering at 102. The temple thermometer had him at 97.8. It’s definitely going back, tekkie, trekkie and all.

This morning, I called for a doctor’s appointment, but since it is Monday no one examine poor little sick Mr. W until tomorrow. His entire goal is to get better for the field trip on Wednesday, which is to my college for a Veteran’s Day ceremony. The kids like it since the cafeteria (still run by Chuck) is famous among elementary students for its ice cream machine and international food options. My children come home wanting to talk about the food instead of the chapel service ;) “Mom, when you were there did you eat… Mom, where you were there did they have….” I wouldn’t know as I never ate the food when I went there. I paid my .20 a day solely for the honor of sitting with my friends who did eat the food.

Speaking of college, Hubby is off to Hoosier-land today for a funeral. His college room-mate’s dad died this week. I informed him that there is an epidemic of dads dying this year. Particularly those dads of whom he has roomed with. Steve, Dave and now Tom. Hubby corrected and informed me that Steve was a unit-mate in college, Dave was a house-mate (if you call that thing a house – it was the epitome of a hole in the wall in more ways in one), and Tom was a room-mate. The kids looked at me and asked, “Who’s next?” I’m giving you a heads up, Daddy – run!

My dad turned 83 on Oct 25^th. He has been in and out of the hospital more times this summer and fall than I can count. He had a defibrillator put in a few weeks ago and is on oxygen. Rumor has it that he weighs a whopping 160 pounds, although I am hoping that rumor is false. I don’t want to imagine my tall dad that skinny. Here he is long, long ago.

He wore these glasses or ones similar for decades. They are back in style. Of course, my funky glasses are similar to ones I wore in 3-6^th grade. I would say he wore that same flannel shirt (red, in my mind) for decades as well, but flannel doesn’t last that long. Alas, I wish it did, since my favorite polar bear jammies are flannel and I want them to last forever. I want the best things in life to last forever, but I found they don’t.

I haven’t seen my dad in 7 years and only three times briefly in the past 14 years. But he has a daily abiding presence in my life, and I have learned a lot from him. He is one of those scary-smart people and was a rocket scientist, a physicist, a professor, an accomplished musician on many instruments and could rattle his brain at will ;) . He gave me a love for music, planes, trains, photography, humor, quality TV reception, star trek and appreciating the beauty of God’s creation. He however, forgot to pass along his genes for actually playing an instrument or understanding math and science. That’s ok. I am good at using my imagination.

This morning Mr. W was taking his temperature with the glass thermometer, broke the cardinal rule of keeping his mouth shut, and was talking. Of course, the thermometer fell out between words and shattered. Mercury balls went rolling here, there and every where. I managed to roll the balls into one big-ish ball - it’s pretty darn cool - and I had great fun trying to pick it up with index cards. Then I moved onto vacuuming up the glass shards. My vacuum cleaner has convenient “on-board” attachments which I can never locate as the tubular extensions are inconveniently “off-board,” frequently being used by the boys as light sabers and swords. However, having located them in various flower beds this summer and having relocated them to the front closet, I got to use them this morning. But alas, after attaching the weapons of little boy destruction, I found there was a hole in my suction tools/rods/tubes – a hole that was supposed to be there, mind you, as it states “suction tools on or off.” Not to worry, I was clever enough to use my finger to close off the opening – however, I quickly realized this was not as brilliant an idea as I initially thought for sucking up glass thermometer bits.

But now I have finally figured out what that gray thing in the front closet is for. I hope I remember where it goes when I find it out in the daisies next year.

Resurfacing Part B

2009-09-11T11:23:00.001-05:00

I have gone back to school. Currently I'm taking two classes, which were normally 16 weeks long, but now crammed into what they term as an "accelerated 8 week course". That means lots of reading. They are online courses, which means lots of reading on my laptop. Online means go at your own pace, but they don't really mean that. They mean, "we've shoved 16 weeks worth of work into 8 weeks and we expect you to turn it all in by midnight on Sunday each week or you receive a ZERO. No late work is accepted. However, you may do this at anytime you want. Cram it in-between work, driving your kids all over creation... we're flexible!"

Actually, it is flexible and I am fitting it all in somehow, however it is ending up being way more work than traditional college ever was. Did I mention the amount of reading? I am required to write a paper, turn it in, but not to the teacher. Nope. It goes to a discussion board. Everyone in the class gets to read it (roll eyes). And I get to read theirs (roll more eyes - maybe the ones in the back of my head). And I have to respond to their content (in a precise manner... which means in a manner which gets graded). 20+ students in each class means I am reading 40+ papers each week. I can't imagine letting my peers read my papers way back 25 years ago. Some of my classmates would have happily ripped my papers to shreds. I would have been paralyzed with fear to know what I wrote had to pass in front of their eyes.

Did I mention this equates to Way Too Much Reading?

As I am reading, on my laptop, the laptop with the glassy, glossy screen, this old woman is looking right back at me. She won't go away. I see her right now. I see her on dicussion boards, I see her while reading short stories, she is there when I write my papers and post my comments. She never leaves me alone. I think she even eats my chocolate.

When I bought my laptop, the sales person didn't tell me it came with this wrinkly old woman. I don't like her.

I decided to try to do something about her. I bought some of this revolutionary anti-aging cream from Avon. It has actual gold in it. It also has a money-back guarantee, which is one reason I really like Avon. It doesn't work? Send it back. This what the website states: Introducing ANEW Ultimate Night Gold Emulsion. Look 5 years younger in 14 days or your money back!

Five years younger in two weeks? But how would I tell?

:)

I put it on only half my face, that's how I would tell. I faithfully used it. It was sparkly and felt good. I used another cream on the other half of my face. In two weeks, my left side would be five years younger. Or maybe since I only used it on one half of my face, perhaps my face in total would only look 2.5 years younger. I even gave it an extra week. Then I started asking my friends which side looked younger?

They all said the same thing.

The right side. Oh yeh, definitely. The right side does.

The RIGHT SIDE.... that was the wrong side.

Puh. Yes, Avon is getting it back. I will keep using the other cream. On both sides.

I also have been using this: ANEW Clinical Advanced Dermabrasion System. It's cool in that it has a dialy thingie that gives you control over how much grit you squirt out to rub on your derma. The theory behind dermabrasion is that when one's skin is precisely irritated by extreme control, this stimulates new skin growth, and one looks younger. To gradually irritate the skin has been the key and is typically done surgically, but you guessed it, skincare manufacturers decided to get in on the action. The twisty knob on Avon's dispenser is their key. Here is what is supposed to happen after using this product: 100% of users showed improved skin texture, clarity and tone. Pores begin to shrink, skin-tone is dramatically evened out, deep wrinkles are visibly diminished. Hmmm. I've been using this for a few months now. I haven't noticed all of that, but then again, I didn't do it on just half of my face as it didn't quite seem as practical. I do know that my face feels very clean. Whose face wouldn't after they scrub sand all over it for two solid minutes? Dirt doesn't have a chance.

On the off days of not sanding my face, I use a Daily Resurfacing Cleanser which "instantly" makes the skin look smoother, pores less noticable and in three days, the fine lines and wrinkles are reduced. In two weeks, the skin looks dramatically younger.

uh huh.

All I know is that by Christmas, that old lady in the laptop better start looking like a toddler. Or at least a teenager. Heck, I'd take early 30's at this point ;)

major resurfacing ahead....

resurfacing - part A

2009-08-19T20:19:00.004-05:00

I have often wondered when I see the signs "Road Closed", what happens to all those people who actually live on that road that is now closed? Does the Transportation Department contact all those people who live there ahead of time and let them know they can't use the road? And what happens then? Do they move in with friends and family? Do they hunker down until the construction passes? The road is closed, after all.

But sometimes, don't you see someone turn down those roads anyway? Do they have special permission? A hall pass from the DoT?

I live on a dead-end road. My road is connected to another road. I stop at a stop sign and can turn one way on that road and get to a SR... I proceed another way and get to another SR. Very handy connection. Very convenient. However, it is not convenient when you wake up one morning, drive down your road, stop at the stop sign and see the sign "Road Closed".

No one called me. No one told me they were resurfacing. How am I supposed to go anywhere? How do I get from point A to point B?

Ah, I think, they must have left me a jet pack or hover craft. That's what they did.

Unfortunately, I just can't find the darn thing anywhere. oh... wait... it is my JETta... not jet pack. bummer.

I was looking forward to being George Jetson. or Buck Rogers.

M is for Mischief

2009-04-04T10:31:00.006-05:00

(and markers)

Mr M is in preschool. He started just a few weeks ago. Many of you are asking how it is going.

We are still getting the hang of it. He brought home a box the other day. He was very proud of his box. I didn't know what it was for, but I could tell it was a special box, handled with care by many small hands, and worn over the years. In the van, I read the top aloud which proved to be a mistake:

1. Choose something to put in the box.
2. Write out some clues which describe what you put in the box. Tape to outside of box.
3. Bring it in on Friday.

Mr M took this to heart.

While I was still putting away my purse and emptying his book bag, he was busy writing out clues in his bedroom with a hot pink "marks-a-lot" permanent marker. He was very proud of his clues. The hot pink marker had been in a top shelf in the kitchen. How he got it, I do not know.

I created a new label and taped it over the old one. I noticed this was not the first layer and hoped the one(s) beneath had been just as proudly marked upon as this one I was hiding. I took a peek. They weren't.

On Friday, I opened the lid. Mr M had a giant dog inside, almost as big as he was, furry, brown and tan. He dictated his clues to me: "It is small. It is black and white. It doesn't have a tail." I listened but I wrote down, "It is brown and tan. It has a tail. I can make it bark."

When we arrived at the school, Miss J, carrying the magical mystery box, called out, "What happened to the index card you taped on here, Mom?" I looked about the van, but found none. She made another one for him in the classroom. Maybe she actually wrote down what he said. I have no clue.

I picked him up from school. He got to the car, but he had forgotten his dog which really is Mr J's dog. "Do you think Mr J will be a little sad that you didn't bring home his dog? Maybe you should go get it," I urged him. He ran back to the building and the teacher brought out a garbage bag filled. Certainly, Mr J's dog was there, but along side him were all sorts of other animals: black and white ones, ones without tails and ones that didn't bark. "He brought all of these?" I asked, very surprised. I hadn't actually thought to take out the ginormous dog to see if there were other things underneath him. I was quite taken with the fact that the dog alone fit into the box.

"Yes," she said. "He brought all of those." She didn't remark about the new label and I didn't bring it up.

On Wednesday, he came running to me, "Mom, Mom! Come here, there are one thousand ants in my bedroom!" I sighed. Yes, we have ants, big black ants that seem intent on eating our house. I knew from experience that once a bug ends up in little boys' rooms, they don't sleep that night. They think the bug is under the blankets with them. I braced myself for the worst, but even if there weren't one thousand ants, even a single ant would be enough to disrupt sleep. And I wanted a peaceful night.

As he led me to his room, he turned around, grinned impishly and said, "April Fools!"

stinker. he is a stinker. I didn't even know he KNEW about April Fool's. Must have learned it in school, but I must admit, he had got me the best that day.

The next day, he slid down the stairs in a box. Quickly, violently, he was at the bottom with a bang. I looked, in alarm, at him. That had to hurt. He said it didn't, that it was very fun, but his face betrayed him. "What hurts?" I asked. "Perhaps this isn't a good idea."

"Oh, nothing hurts. Nothing but my wienie." He did it again and again, surfing down the stairs. "Don't worry, Mom, I have my hand over my wienie." Boys.

Later that night, when he went to the potty, he started to cry. "OWWWW, it hurts! I hurt my wienie!" Going potty the next several times hurt him, but he bravely pushed past the pain. I was alarmed, though, when he looked up and said, "It's GREEN, Mom!! My wienie is GREEN!" Someone told me I need to hide all markers. I thought I had.

He has preschool M-W-F. T and Th he is busy growing MooseTaches. We 'shave' them prior to school. He is not discouraged and simply finds another marker somewhere to grow a new one. The latest was purple.

Yesterday when I got him from school, we waved to the teacher, climbed in the van and buckled in. "My wienie didn't hurt when I pee'd, Mom. I told my teacher that. I told her my wienie hurt but it doesn't any more. I told her that, mom."

That's how it is going.

I am a Reader and that means

2009-03-28T20:43:00.005-05:00

When I read, I have a couple of quirks. Number one, I read every.single.word. I figure the person wrote the words, carefully chosen, for me to read. I figure if I ever am published, I would want my readers to read my words.

I have never been one of those people who skip around, skimming the pages and hastily digesting anything. And when I write, sometimes I read the words out loud, to make sure I am clear. HA, I hear you say - that doesn’t always work - you're as clear as mud!

But I have read enough books to my children to know that some words don’t do well when read aloud. I had to quit reading one book to them, since the words the author chose simply weren’t conducive to being read-aloud. The words didn’t slide off of my tongue at all; in fact, they tripped over my tongue and I spent many times, going back to read the sentence again. That book made me realize that there is a real art to this whole writing thing.

So if I read every single word, and I am absent-mindedly thinking about something else, I sigh, and read the paragraph again, to fully engage in the material. Sometimes that means I read the same paragraph (or page) many, many times. Oh stop rolling your eyes, you know you have done the exact same thing. OR perhaps my eyes go faster than my brain. I will think “Hmmm, I believe I missed a tiny little something back about two paragraphs ago” and I will re-read it. The whole thing. Just to make sure I read every single word, important or not. It is obsessive of me, I know.

Then there are names. I must tell you that I don’t always do names in books very well. Names tend to throw all the phonetic rules out the window, and especially if I am reading a foreign book, I simply see that name as almost a symbol, instead of sounding it out. Russian books, in particular, are challenging. I see an Rasldfjalksdfjlasjfklsdjf and think “Oh that is the ‘R’ dude”, think of the face I have chosen for R dude, therefore, not even attempting to try to figure out his name.

I am now reading The Diary of a Wimpy Kid, by Jeff Kinney. Mr. Kinney is a champion of using R names. I have gotten very confused over Roderick, Roger, Rowley and Rodney. Rory? I can’t even remember anymore. And these aren’t even Russian. This R-dude? No, that R-dude. Fortunately, the stick-figure drawings have come in extremely handy for the visual person I happen to be. Circle, dots for eyes, nose, mouth. And Rory? He is a stick-monkey. Ah forget it. It’s meant for elementary kids, anyway. And, by the way, great fun.

I'm not the only person having problems with names, though. Last week, I met someone who said she hated fantasy. She especially disliked Lord of the Rings, since Tolkien used so many weird names she couldn’t even pronounce. I agreed with her and related my story with LOTR. I remember reading this for the first time in high school, and using my typical “Oh this is the “S” dude. Except I got myself into trouble. Sauren and Saruman. Oops. To me, spaced several pages or chapters apart, they were the one - Big S, A, U, R, N - and the same until I got so thoroughly confused and finally realized they were two different S dudes. You guessed it, I had to go BACK and reread it to figure out who really was doing what. Come on, what was he thinking, making up two evil villain names that were so close?

But the woman I was talking to wasn’t disturbed by those two names. Oh no… she stopped at Merry, Pippin, Frodo and Sam. Confusing… Sam? SAM? How can Sam be confusing? Everyone should have a Sam in her life. Ah, Sam…. I adore Sam, true and faithful to the end. That is one Tolkien S-dude I don't have any problems with.

are you LOST yet?

2009-02-14T10:50:00.001-05:00

Hurley had a very serious heart-to-heart with him mom.... trying to convince her he wasn't crazy, he decided to just tell her the truth, dang gone it!

Okay… See, we did crash. But it was on this crazy island. I mean, we waited for rescue, and there wasn’t a rescue. And there was a smoke monster. And then there were other people on the island — we called them the Others, and they started attacking us. And we found some hatches and there was a button you had to push every 108 minutes or — well, I was never really clear on that — But the Others didn’t have anything to do with the hatches, that was the Dharma Initiative. They were all dead — the Others killed them. And now they’re trying to kill us. And then we teamed up with the Others because some worse people were coming on a freighter. Desmond’s girlfriend’s father sent them to kill us. So we stole their helicopter and we flew it to their freighter, but it blew up. And we couldn’t go back to the island because it disappeared. So then we crashed into the ocean, and we floated there for a while, until a boat came and picked us up. And by then there were six of us. That part was true. But the rest of the people who were on the plane…they’re still on that island.

Makes sense to me... clear, compact, concise.

update saturday - perspective

2009-02-07T14:13:00.003-05:00

I received an email from one of my girl buddies. She was letting our group of gal pals know that our dear friend, Heidi, woke up this morning to find her husband had died in his sleep. :(

My sister just called to let me know her dear friend's daughter who gave birth earlier this week to her first baby, just let her know the baby is dying.

sitting in bed, dizzy, tired - I really don't give a crap. News like this makes me feel very fortunate to be bed-ridden than in mourning... Emotional pain will take much longer to get over - a lifetime, in fact.

maybe I will go sleep and wake up to find it was all a percocet dream.

:(

surgery update friday

2009-02-06T19:51:00.002-05:00

Hey, it is I, love2scrap herself. I am loopy and on narcotics, so I hope I don't make a complete idiot of myself here.

I am feeling like I did yesterday, which is better than Tues/Wed (although I must say I grew fond of the morphine drip). I'd say the only problem I have is that I am so darn lethargic. The pain is tolerable (yes, Cheryl, I have taken your advice and have diligently taken my pain meds).

I have no clue how my blood levels are - I am supposed to notice if I am dizzy and short of breath. I am just a tad dizzy and I am blaming all of that on the percocet. Short of breath? Yep, after I use this inhaler machine thingy I brought home from the hospital. The Michael Phelps photos obviously made quite the effect on Miss J as when she saw my inhaler, she exclaimed, "Mom, did they give you pot in the hospital?" uh.. no. They only sent me home with a pot belly.

dizzy? short of breath? bah... beats me. So, my blood level - I have no clue; I am pleading ignorance on the whole topic, although the company I had came in my room said I had absolutely no color. I must be invisible then. :) Therefore, let's move beyond that fear.

I do have a fever and that is the worry currently. This is when you hear hysterectomy horror stories from people: "everything went well until I had a fever after wards with an infection - you better watch it." EEEKKK....I am trying not to listen to them, drink plenty of fluids, eat my chocolates diligently and am in bed.... most of the time... except when I am visiting the bathroom from drinking all these fluids - ah the conundrum.

So prayers are welcome, good thoughts, chocolates but phone calls? I will likely go to sleep while you are talking to me. No offense.... I am just very tir zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

surgery update - thursday

2009-02-05T18:20:00.002-05:00

This is Love to Scrap's sister again. Love to Scrap is home! However, she lost a lot of blood during surgery and her body hasn't manufactured more just yet. So her doctor wants her to take it extra easy during this initial recuperation phase. Otherwise, a blood transfusion lurks on the horizon for her.

Love to Scrap thanks you for your thoughts and prayers, and for giving her this time to rest. Hopefully by tomorrow she will be able to give you her own updates. and hopefully by next week she will have more energy to answer calls, emails, etc.

surgery update

2009-02-05T11:00:00.001-05:00

This is Love to Scrap's sister. Love to Scrap had some serious complications during her surgery Tuesday, requiring 4 specialists. This turned a minor surgery into major surgery. She's still in the hospital and recovering. She appreciates your prayers and needs her rest. So she asks that you please for now do not call her or visit her - or she will post pictures of her uterus to gross you out!! (Obviously she still has her sense of humor!)

She's recovering well, although recuperating will take longer than she initially thought.

If any of you feel like sending her flowers, she is asking for chocolate instead, because (her words), "Flowers die, but chocolate will live forever on my hips!" :-) (but she likes flowers too.)

warning... sledding can be FUN

2009-01-28T22:23:00.003-05:00

you've got to be kidding... The sled came with a warning label. This label is on Miss L's new disc sled. Following the 'rules' would take all the fun out of sledding.

Wear helmet. I just heard a discussion on our talk radio station about said helmets. They should be padded and well insulated. I doubt my kids could even lift their head if they had such a helmet. And goggles. Someone said that the goggles got all fogged up and they couldn't see a darn thing. Ran smack dab into an oak tree. Yep, I can see how expensive it would be to buy sledding helmets for 7 kids to slide down 'cistern hill' in our backyard.

Kind of reminds me of the time I bought a glow in the dark pacifier for a baby of mine and it came with a warning: "Never baby alone with a pacifier in its mouth." Uh. ok. In the middle of the night, (glow in the dark), I am supposed to stay with the baby. Just watching it suck away. Yeh, right. I bought the dang thing so I could go to bed, if the baby woke up needing the pacifier, I could find it easily (glow in dark), shove it in baby's mouth, go back to bed and everyone is happy - especially the company who sold it to me.

"This sled RULES" takes on a new meaning. It is only a matter of time until this is added: use only on flat, clean surface. Oh, and don't have fun - we wouldn't want you to do that, now would we.

man vs wild

2009-01-17T11:58:00.003-05:00

It is freezing here. Wait, no… it is in the minus degrees here. I’d take freezing. That would be nice. And what does one do when it freezes?

Well, I stay inside, drink something warm, have several layers on, but my hubby? He’s been watching too many Bear Grylls Man vs Wild episodes. He tells me it is his favorite show now. F-A-V-O-R-I-T-E ever.

I know it. He stays planted in one spot for hours absorbing every gruesome detail such as Bear eating rhino moth larvae, giant grubs taste and yak eyeballs…. He likes how Bear will try to compare his wild edibles with something familiar, like his friends’ old boogies or pus (none of which are familiar to me, at least). Most of the time, he declares it horrible, but loves to get vitamins and calories to give him a boost to face the wild.

His purpose is to give the audience survival tips. Did you know that if you are walking across some iced-over lake and fall in, it is better to do so naked? Yep. It helps when trying to get out but really AFTER you get out, it is great to have dry clothes to put on. I’ll have to remember that. ‘Oh look, I might fall in, better dis-robe NOW!’ Yeh, then wait for my shih-tsu to come rescue me (although she DID bring me my chocolate bar the other night).

So -6 degrees – windchill of -30…. 10PM Thursday night, and my hubby decides to make Bear proud. He disrobes to his undies, goes outside and runs around the entire house through snow in his Bear Feet. He would have done it naked, but the look on Miss J’s face was of complete disgust. No one was outside watching him anyway.

He came running back inside and said his feet were on fire but the rest of him was fine. Not even cold. I decided that his brain wasn’t working.

wanted

2009-01-15T12:41:00.004-05:00

My mojo is completely gone. I haven't done a layout since November, I haven't beaded anything decent since the fall. I rarely touch this blog at all....

Shen has made some terrific digi-kits though and I had to do something, ANYTHING with them. This one is called Uptown.

Where IS my mojo? Really, who took it? I hope you are enjoying it - when you're done, please give it back. It would be nice if you added some of yours to it, too.

ducks

2008-12-31T12:01:00.002-05:00

Do you remember The Story about Ping, by Marjorie Flack?

I loved reading it as a child and was quite taken with the various Chinese people drawn in it, mostly because they had their head shaved with dark little pony tails here and there. As a mid-western little girl, they were something to behold.

I was thinking about Ping yesterday. Are you familiar with him? He is a fluffy yellow adorable duckling. He belongs to a big BIG family of aunts, uncles, cousins, mom, dad, brothers and sisters. Every day they are let off a boat with two wise eyes on the yellow waters of the Yangtze River (something else for a little girl to ponder).

They go about doing what ducks do… finding things to eat. Every evening, the ducks’ owner calls out to them, ‘lalalalalalalei’ and the ducks come running up to the little bridge to get on the boat. The very last duck gets a swat on the back. I’m not even sure that this swat hurt.

Ping didn’t want to be swatted, EVER, so he always made sure he was never last. Was it a pride issue? A fear issue? He had never been swatted, so how was he to know what the results would be?

But one day…. ONE day… he wasn’t paying attention. He was off doing his thing and by the time he heard the call, he knew full well he was going to be last. He was going to get spanked.

So he hid.

And he was all alone.

And he decided to find his wise boat and his family. But he got caught and had various misadventures.

Always looking for his family, he finally spots the wise boat and hears the owner call. And you can probably guess the rest. He is last… he doesn’t care anymore.

Sometimes we are off doing our own thing, avoiding what really needs to be done because we think it might hurt. We don’t even know if it really will. So we turn our backs on it, perhaps thinking that we are really doing something more important. We miss the boat. And find out it hurts even more.

New Year’s exercise…

2008-12-28T18:02:00.002-05:00

nope, not situps or pushups or aerobics....

it is to write for 15 minutes a day. Let’s see if I can do this before I actually put it on my list for 2009.

Many of the people who know me know I thought I was going to be a writer when I grew up. When asked that question: What do you want to do when you are an adult? I would answer: Write.

My dad would laugh and say that wouldn’t pay the bills. So far he is right.

One of the ways to improve writing is to write, so perhaps by writing 15 minutes a day about anything that pops into my head will finally pay off.

Write now, I mean RIGHT now, I am thinking of Christmas lights. I am thinking that when I grew up, I really liked the colored lights. I still do. I liked the ones that blinked. I don’t anymore. It seems that the ones I buy that blink, all decide to blink at the same time, which leaves the tree totally dead looking half the time. We’ve adjusted the blinkers, but it seems to have made no difference. This year the hubby bought white lights. I like white lights, but the biggest deal for me is you have to have TONS of lights. We only have four strands, which means even though we only put them on the front of the tree, the bottom third still is dark. Unlit.

I think that the reason I like tons of white lights is that they remind me of stars. I’ve always been a sucker for stars. Right now in fact, I’m wearing star earrings that my sister gave me. They are one of my favorite pairs of earrings.

I liked lying on my parent’s deck at night, watching for falling stars, wishing on them, wanting to find the perfect soul for me to love. That was my wish for all time, each time.

I remember saying “Starlight, star bright, first star I see tonight, I wish I may I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight…” you got it: the perfect soul to love…

I wish I knew more about astronomy. I wish I knew how to read the stars. I’ve read enough books on how in the eastern part of the US, circa pre-railway, the best way to get cargo to California was to sail all around South America. It was a perilous journey. And the stars guided the captain and his crew. I would be so lost. It wouldn’t really matter that the stars down there would be different than the stars up here- I wouldn’t know. I can make almost anything look like the big dipper. Or the little dipper.

Stars are pretty. Stars twinkle. Stars make me feel small, make me feel safe, make me know that Someone created them. And me. For a purpose, although most of the time, I can’t figure that out.

Dang… I wrote all of that in seven minutes. I don't think I can do this 15 minute thing.

Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket,

Save it for a rainy day….

silly little things

2008-12-27T19:29:00.002-05:00

I am taking the easy way out here for a blog entry.

You Are: 50% Dog, 50% Cat

You are a nice blend of cat and dog.

You're playful but not too needy. And you're friendly but careful.

And while you have your moody moments, you're too happy to stay upset for long.

Are You More Cat or Dog?

You Are Flannel Pajamas

You seek comfort above everything else. You rather feel good than look good.

You are a very relaxed person, especially when you're surrounded by your favorite things and people.

You are a homebody. Home is the place where you can truly be yourself.

You are likely to wear pajamas a lot. In fact, you often change into your pj's the minute you get home!

What Kind of Pajamas Are You?

you mean I had to get OUT of them?

You Are 10% Left Brained, 90% Right Brained

The left side of your brain controls verbal ability, attention to detail, and reasoning.

Left brained people are good at communication and persuading others.

If you're left brained, you are likely good at math and logic.

Your left brain prefers dogs, reading, and quiet.

The right side of your brain is all about creativity and flexibility.

Daring and intuitive, right brained people see the world in their unique way.

If you're right brained, you likely have a talent for creative writing and art.

Your right brain prefers day dreaming, philosophy, and sports.

Are You Right or Left Brained?

how about you guys?

Merry Christmas

2008-12-25T09:15:00.002-05:00

Who is this so weak and helpless, Child of lowly Hebrew maid,
Rudely in a stable sheltered, coldly in a manger laid?
'Tis the Lord of all creation, Who this wondrous path hath trod;
He is God from everlasting, and to everlasting God.

Who is this, a Man of sorrows, walking sadly life's hard way,
Homeless, weary, sighing, weeping, over sin and Satan's sway?
'Tis our God, our glorious Savior, Who above the starry sky
Now for us a place prepareth, where no tear can dim the eye.

Who is this? Behold Him shedding drops of blood upon the ground!
Who is this, despised, rejected, mocked, insulted, beaten, bound?
'Tis our God, Who gifts and graces on His church now poureth down;
Who shall smite in righteous judgment all His foes beneath His throne.

Who is this that hangeth dying while the rude world scoffs and scorns,
Numbered with the malefactors, torn with nails, and crowned with thorns?
'Tis the God Who ever liveth, 'mid the shining ones on high,
In the glorious golden city, reigning everlastingly.

(rockin' alto part!!)

oh, and Daddy, we sang Von Himmel Hoch at church Sunday. In English, though.

Merry Christmas to you and yours and for Theo, an extra special burp******

layouts

2008-11-14T11:03:00.003-05:00

credits here
credits here
credits here

The big news in digi-world is that TwoLittlePixels has expanded. Sharon has always been the queen of classy and clean layouts. I spotted her right away in early 2006 when I first start digi-scrappin and was thrilled to be asked to be on her creative team in 2007. She has gathered quite a group of outstanding designers to join her shoppe. I've been getting to know these new designers and their creative teams over the past couple of weeks and they are very talented.

A few of my friends ask me why I am a minimalist regarding putting photos on a page. I just am. Here you see that Mr P loves golf, Miss J plays her guitar practically everyday, and Miss J is more of a princess of a tomboy (who fyi, has just declared this month that she hates wearing dresses).

I figure the big events that demand a ton of photos, such as birthdays, the kids will remember. It is the collections of little moments that make them who they are. And these are the ones they are more likely to forget. Hopefully their own kids will want to see these as well and not primarily a bunch of their parents opening presents (trust me, I have scads of those photos - I just don't scrap them).

Although, come to think of it, close ups of their presents would be cool for their kids to see - they'd be antiques. At least that is what my kids think about the toys I owned as a kid. Why, just the other day, one of them asked if I grew up with running water.

movie time

2008-11-03T09:49:00.002-05:00

This week in movies ended up being dysfunctional family week. I watched The Savages, Darjeeling Limited, The Sixth Sense, Indiana Jones and Juno.

Juno was quirky, funny, happy and sad at the same time. You probably know that it is about a teenager who has sex once, gets pregnant and decides to put the baby up for adoption. At the beginning of the movie, Juno takes her pregnancy test in the small hometown store, shakes it to make the plus sign disappear - “Nope... There it is. The little pink plus sign is so unholy” - the clerk (Dwight K Shrute) response is: “It ain’t no etch a sketch. This is one doodle that can’t be undid, homeskillet.” That's the kind of movie it is. Juno herself is very precocious, more confident than most adults I know, full of zingers and sarcasm. Juno the movie was easy to watch and made me laugh and cry and had an amusing soundtrack.

Darjeeling Limited was about three adult brothers - the oldest has arranged for the younger two to go on a spiritual journey with him and to really know each other as people (there is a quote in the movie that I’ll paraphrase here: “Do you think we’d really be friends if we weren’t related?”- ah, the eternal sibling question). As siblings do, they squabbled, talked about each other behind backs, in front of each others’ backs, bossed, criticized, swapped medicines, most of this done on a train, and I went along for the ride with them. It made me laugh and while I didn’t cry, I did tear up (some of it hit home), while I wondered how the younger two could be so pliable (that was answered). And as in all families, each family member had a distinct personality that was acted out very well (which leads me to the other eternal sibling question: how the heck can we all be related – we’re so different!?). If you are looking for a tidy resolution and big changes, you won’t really find them but you may have fun in the meantime (except you, C, since this stars Owen Wilson).

Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull (or whatever the heck the title is)… I had seen this in the theater, but the kids hadn’t seen it so we watched it as a family (minus Dad). Yes, it had a dysfunctional family in it as well, but I’ll not spoil it for you. Right before we turned it on, one of the kids looked at me and asked me if I liked the movie. I had to hesitate... Part of me said Yes. Although others had criticized that it wasn’t as Indy as the others, I felt that it was action-packed for a 60-year old Indy. It was funny. It seemed a little long and *gasp* unrealistic at points (but didn’t the others? That is part of the fun and part of the escape). I said yes, but I hesitated and said I didn't like the last part. I didn’t like it at all. I couldn’t point my finger on it until someone else pointed it out for me: the ending removed the possibility of the supernatural existing, with those inter-dimensional beings.

Sixth Sense – ok, I am probably in the minority in not seeing this “scary” movie until now, but I avoided it as have extremely vivid and realistic dreams (last night was about giants tromping through the countryside and tearing houses apart to find people to eat – and yes, my family was among the victims) and I try not to feed the imagination. Actually, as my brothers told me, this movie wasn’t too scary at all. It is one of those movies I have to watch again to answer questions that popped up after the initial viewing - those are always good movies, in my book.

The Savages: It was about a middle-aged sister and brother with the major storyline who suddenly find themselves taking care of their estranged elderly father who has just been diagnosed with dementia, along with the minor storylines of taking care of and deciphering their own scarred personal romantic relationships that growing up with Dad has skewed. It was too real – and while it was very well acted, believable (with again the sibling stuff we who have siblings can relate to) - it was not a happy movie. Philip Seymour Hoffman does yet another incredible effortless acting job (having just seen him in Capote – wow, I ask myself, can this be the same actor?).

No matter how smart the two intelligent children are, they are incapable of stopping death and all its side-issues of care-giving which reduces these adults to inept, bumbling kids who wonder “What does this mean? What does that mean? How long? What can we do?” In the end, it seems as if the father really wants to leave all this squabbling and inane’ness rather than be trapped in the world he no longer understands, and the children are helpless on lookers trying to make the best of it.

Here is a quote (avert your eyes, Mother…) after the sister is wrestling with a lower priced nursing home over a higher priced nursing home. Her brother says: “… you are the consumer they want to target. You are the guilty demographic. The landscaping, the neighborhoods of care; they're not for the residents, they're for the relatives. People like you and me who don't want to admit to what's really going on here….People are dying, Wendy! Right inside that beautiful building right now, it's a f-ing horror show! And all this wellness propaganda and the landscaping, it's just there to obscure the miserable fact that people die! And death is gaseous and gruesome and it's filled with sh*t and p*ss and rotten stink!”

Yeppers. Again, very well-done, but ah, I’m not exactly on a high right now. It is just too real, as I bet many of us have gone or will go through the same circumstances. Big impact, but depressing as heck.

Incredibly, The Savages has the same song as Juno: “I’m Sticking with You”

So here’s to my siblings in my dysfunctional family and all the important people in my life – because you all love me and know me and accept me despite my me’ness:

I'm sticking with you
'Cos I'm made out of glue
Anything that you might do
I'm gonna do too...

Yes, I am sticking with you ;)

non-inputted facebook entries

2008-10-21T19:06:00.004-05:00

Since I really am lousy at facebook and probably only check it once or twice a month (and then really to take a look at Miss J’s stuff), and since many of you still check my facebook hoping I will update (you will be disappointed – hey face it, I am a blog gal), I will appease you and do facebook type of entries - you know the short and sweet version (ps, these were done yesterday all through the day):

I am going to get my new/used jetta today. Still nothing resolved between the dealership and us, though.

Still having computer issues logging on and off yahoo upstairs and on and off gmail downstairs. How can a great thing like cookies be so bad?

Sometimes first grade math makes me feel stupid. What are they asking? Beats me – I don’t get it and is it really important or just politically correct first grade math. Grrr.

Tried to find Griffin House’s “Tell Me a Lie” guitar chords yet again and yet again they cannot be found on the internet. No where. Amazing but true.

Going to get the Jetta. I can see myself getting my first speeding ticket with this vehicle. W00t

Before I got the Jetta, I had tanked down a diet pepsi (caffeine free) plus a bottle of water and by the time I picked the kids up from school, my jaws were floating (a Daddy saying). I was about to pull over and dive into the woods, but didn’t. Can you believe it? my first car with leather seats and the first time I drive it, I almost soil them?

Speaking of urination, we had to pick a new science fair project for Miss J… seems as though our idea of showing how urine glows is uh, highly toxic and able to kill us. Now she is known at school as the girl who wanted to blow up the building with pee.

After much research last night, came up with a tame science fair project of comparing all the store brand cereal with name brand cereal in taste, sog-factor, crunch, cost.

Now my computer has stopped telling me about cookies and is on to squid. I had some freeze-dried squid the other day. Tasted like fishy beef jerky. My sister said this was a non-sequitor... I said it is a non-squiditor.

Temporarily fixed a chair that my mom slid off of in slow-motion. Mr J was a little upset I fixed it as for him it was like a ride at an amusement park. Not so for an 80-year old woman.

Watched Heroes, which is a mom-kid thing to do. We were very glad to have some resolution from Hiro/Ando and actually I am finding Sylar very fascinating.

Just can’t do facebook. So much more I want to say. So much writing to be done. And can you really get to know me with just these little jots and tiddles?

just fartin' around

2008-10-17T21:48:00.004-05:00

I never knew what crocs were apart from the amphibian kind.

But several years ago after I got tired of washing the mud off my shoes I went looking for a washable garden shoe and found fake crocs. I really like them IF I must wear shoes outside in the yard.

These are men's, actually, $5 at Walmart. I found the men's fit better since I have a high instep and that darn second toe that is bigger than my first. (We call it the "middle finger toe" around here.) They are much better than the women's versions I purchased. But they don't agree with me apparently.

Yes, you read correctly. The noise emitted sounds like my boys making disgusting armpit or knee-pit "music". With Each Step. I laugh all the time when I am in these.

I've asked around and my female friends don't have the same problem as I do. Perhaps if I were an engineer, I could reasonably isolate the cause as my instep hitting the croc's instep and creating a suction with some sort of funky formula.

I don't have to be an engineer to really figure out the real cause: they are men's crocs - that's all I need to know.

credits for layout: creashen's bye-bye birdie blog freebie, fall back ribbon, as I am stitch and staple. Angelica E white-painted alphabet. All found at two little pixels.

my newest must-have

2008-10-14T00:16:00.001-05:00

You know, Google has a cool new gadget called Mail Goggles (for more information on this, check out the gmail blog) . It was created by a Gmail engineer. What a fun job… these people get to lay their mistakes out on the table, brainstorm (“How could I have stopped from being so stupid?”) and change the world with their findings. (yeh, Daddy, I know engineers in general do this all the time... I also realize I would be the idea girl with no follow-through and subsequently fired for being the worst engineer in the world... - to the rest of you, my dad wanted me to be an engineer... HahahahAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAA!!!!!!!!)

Mail Goggles was created for us normally smart people who on occasion get tipsy or perhaps carried away by passion and idiotically send emails they shouldn’t have. It sounds like a must-have for anyone who dives right into sending emails without thinking… or perhaps if you are like me, OVER-thinking situations.

No, Google would have people like us jump through some hoops to stop the madness. And what better hoops to jump through than arithmetic ones. ICK.

We would have to answer some math problems, MATH PROBLEMS, which would test our mental acuity at said given time BEFORE we giddily press the send button. If we pass, we get to press send. Of course, Google imagines that most of these text messages and emails are sent late at night, during the weekends, “as that is the time you're most likely to need it”.

Heck in my case though, I might answer them correctly and become so triumphantly excited that I answered them, I still send the email even though I shouldn’t. In fact, I might even send a follow-up message gloating about my ability to answer said math questions right after sending that first doomed message.

I would add this tool to my Gmail account, except for the fact that my computer has on it a rather more handy tool called a calculator. I don’t even have to go searching for it. There is a button marked ‘calculator’ right on my keyboard. I could pass this test easy as pie.

But you know, all fooling aside, I really REALLY need one of these for my life, but tweaked with super-dooper hard questions instead of math equations.

Questions like: are you sure only the intended receiver will see this email? Will they be offended at any part of it or read/take it the wrong way? Will you have harmed your relationship with them forever and ever? Are you being a total goofball? Is this a knee-jerk reaction to their stupidity? Do you then want to lower yourself to their level? Do you? Do you?….. oh, I could go on….

I do a lot of stupid things. With Google ever beside me, I would never do stupid things and I would be perfect. No inserting “foot of ginormity” into mouth, no sending emails I shouldn’t, no making phone calls that get me into trouble. Ah, what bliss…. No more saying, “I’m sorry, that was silly of me…" or "Guess what, I did something stupid - again..."

But wouldn’t you miss the imperfect me?

Irony of ironies, all is irony.

2008-10-13T08:46:00.001-05:00

Last night I was emailing with a beading buddy of mine about the sore lack of inexpensive sterling silver noodles and funky peyote cuff patterns. My yahoo kept ditching me and telling me to check and clear my cookies - why? are they burning?

puh.... my cookies are fine.

I’ll try gmail then.

What was in my inbox was more irony.

First was an email from a fellow named David Samuels, computer technician. No fooling. I almost spat my coffee and chocolate out my nose and all over the keyboard. Hmm, perhaps he could help me with my yahoo cookie problem (Why did they name something so frustrating after one of my favorite foods?). No, seems David thinks I am male who has a ‘size’ issue. No help there. Delete to spam.

Next, the top of my gmail catches my eye:

Extraordinary Ability - www.mayvisalaw.com - May Law Group, Pittsburgh, PA Free Consultations. 412-291-4400

What – did they know my visa was stolen? Are they going through my emails? And 412 – that is the sudoko puzzle I started today and Hubby finished. I finally realize this ad is posted because of my ‘extraordinary’ blog comments in my inbox… But then I really laughed since I JUST purchased a book for Miss J online from a half.com seller from Pittsburgh right before I started my noodle hunting. Ah, the new city du jour.

Then… I open my email to read a message from my dad about Oberlin (remember I just wrote about that two days ago), to remind me of the story of this guy named Charles Martin Hall from Thompson, OH (never heard of it) who did something weirdly scientific-ish in a woodshed and POOF - made aluminum (don’t understand it), went on to found a company now named Alcoa (ok, I've heard of that) in Pittsburgh and then gave Oberlin $20,000,000. Wowza, look at all those zero's. Funny thing that in the next email, my friend Debbie is emailing me about perils of cooking in teflon and aluminum pots. I feel like I am in the movie 23 except it's not about that number, it's about everything in my life connecting in some weird way.

See, they come in threes (at least)… two days ago it was Cleveland, today it was Pittsburgh… next major city? Your guess is as good as mine.

Or maybe it will be something smallish.

My sister and I call these God jokes, little coincidences to remind us that He likes to make us laugh, which is a good thing. He is the creator of humor, joy, inspiration – all the fun stuff that keeps me going. Well, that and great friends (and chocolate) - can't do it without my friends. In an email exchange with my dad last night, he wrote me that he gets by life with a select few true friends, not hordes of those people called acquaintances.

That is indeed the case with me.

Friends… here’s to you, the ones who are a blood-related, the ones who aren’t, the ones who stick by me thick and thin, the couple of you who are near and the majority of you who are far away. I’m glad you guys don’t come in threes. I’m glad you like me the way I am. I’m glad you let me call you up or write you when I find a God joke (even though you don’t find them nearly as amusing as I do). Hey I understand – sometimes they are only things that *I* would get… God is doing something just for me. It may not be very Presbyterian but it makes me happy.

I guess the irony and wonderfulness of life is that you still want to be my friend despite all my quirks, mistakes and foibles.

awwwwww - this just hit my inbox although gmail states it came in at 5:13 (another great irony that my seeeester would get) about my 'what flower are you':

you must be a daffidor.

part Warner Bros. cartoon, part great person.

That's my guess.

google 2001

2008-10-10T19:03:00.003-05:00

Google brought back their 2001 search engine for their 10th anniversary.

I looked up "digital scrapbooking"

31 results....

I then looked up today's results on the 2008 search engine: 2,600,000

cool.beans.

hello cleveland!

2008-10-10T15:38:00.006-05:00

It finally FINALLY rained here after a long drought. Albeit, only one day, but it made weeding doable and we gardeners all know what a busy time fall is.

I am gutting my flower boxes and putting in mums (see my photo blog) although the burgundy mums seem a little blah from the road - and we need everyone to stop their cars and say "hey, I wanna buy this house!"

Huh. On second thought, maybe I will keep the burgundy mums.

At any rate, I stumbled across this gardening blog from a Clevelander. Which is an odd coincidence, seeing how a book I just had out from the library came from Cuyahoga Public Library (when I was a little girl, I loved saying that name - Cuyahoga) AND my dad just told me that he had seasons passes to the Cleveland Public Auditorium when he was a college student at Oberlin and listened to all the operas (and had a box where he could secretly conduct - I just have the *hardest* time imagining that), and someone just told me that they bought a car online from Cleveland. Mr W just did a paper on Grover Cleveland whom the city was not named after, but a distant relative named General Moses Cleaveland. Funny thing about that... in 1820, the city's editor of the new paper decided to take out the "a" from Cleaveland in order for it to fit the headlines. Ah the power of the media. (I wonder how Grover's family name was shortened - if indeed they are related.) Moses landed in 1796, said, "If you build it, they will come..." but they didn't come very fast. Just over 100 people lived in Cleveland in 1820, and even Moses himself left in 1796 never to return.

I'm ready for the next set of ironic happenstances.

I am a
Daffodil

What Flower
Are You?

You have a sunny disposition and are normally one of the first to show up for the party. You don't need too much attention from the host once you get there as you are more than capable of making yourself seen and heard.

Hmm, as much as I love daffodils, I'm not quite sure I like the summary. Kind of a backhanded compliment if you think about it.

No matter how I tweak my answers, I am always a daffodil. I will say this:

I am usually not the first to show up for the party. However, I am certain to liven a party since I suffer from chronic foot-in-mouth disease and no one knows where the evening might lead. I also am usually quick witted, which gets me into trouble as well. I guess I could considered a source of entertainment. I usually get into the car with Hubby where he says, "I wish you hadn't have said that...." and then the next day, I call everyone to apologize for my comments, whereupon we have more laughs and I say more things I probably shouldn't.

So what kind of plant would that make me?

who am I?

2008-10-06T18:57:00.003-05:00

A new member of the identity-theft club.

Gosh, when it rains it pours. Never a dull moment in my life.

The funny thing is that when the fraud services department said that the person who stole my identity will now attempt to open new credit cards, I laughed very hard. That won't happen. Let them try. HOHOHAHA When someone owns as many real-estate 'investment' properties as we do, new credit in these times ain't gonna happen. And that makes it really funny to me.

Yeh, go ahead and try, sucker...

my password is: I AM DEAD BROKE.

Sorry, I am still laughing... really hard.

Junebug

2008-10-01T19:10:00.002-05:00

I just finished watching Junebug, which was a different kind of ‘meet the parents and my weird family’ movie. It was feel-good in an odd way and I loved it because it was close to perfect. I could say, “Hey, that felt like a house I lived in,” or “I recognize that character.” What wasn’t said was just as important as what was said. It was believable and we find out the tiny truths of each character very subtly.

Take Johnny for instance – he seems moody, withdrawn and unhappy with life and his marriage. He’s also on the very precipice of reluctantly becoming a dad, but when you consider the little slices you see during the scenes with him you find out truths: he is happy with his job, he feels like he failed his parents in comparison to his older brother. It doesn’t seem like he loves his wife, and you'll never see a scene where he opens up and spills his guts about how he really feels. However, you instantly know how he feels while watching the way he frantically tries to record a show on meercats for her. It was a sweet moment in a real way, and it was expertly and effortlessly acted.

Ashley – I think we all need to have an Ashley injection straight into our veins. Amy Adams was perfect in that role.

The poor outsider dropped into this, Madeline, takes meeting her new in-laws in stride. Her husband, George, is the golden boy of the family and slides right back into that role. For sure, in the end he ‘could’ be ready to leave, but was he really? I certainly know after watching it all.

There were a few small-church scenes, baby showers, which were also the perfect manifestation of us “small-church down-home people”.

Due to language, explicit folk-art images and sex, it is not a family film, but it was a perfect film.

People don’t have to be successful and wealthy to be important in the world- it’s enough simply because they are important to another person and their community, and let’s face it - the world is made up of most of us who are content in living just like these people in the film. Or maybe deep inside we aren’t content, but we do what we do with a good attitude. Most of us… most of the time… when and if we really try – and when the kids are behaving. :)

Tsotsi

2008-09-18T09:47:00.003-05:00

I edited my post here to finish my review of the film Three Times. I just finished watching Tsotsi and I am still sniffling over it.

The difference was I was drawn in to it immediately because of the setting and then because of the story. Wow. Wow....

I cared about the characters, the actors did a fantastic job - each and every one of them. It made me thankful that I was born where I was. The symbols, such as the repetition of dice, which shows that 'we' were placed in this world where we are by pure chance, were subtle. The marker of the disabled man shows us each time how Tsotsi is changing. I don't want to spoil this movie, and I know some of you won't like it, but I found an intense rooting for the boy/man. I love watching his heart blossom. I loved how people can find beauty in a shanty town. I loved how the sun set pink on the good and the evil. I loved that there is redemption. I loved the movie.

Wow....

three times

2008-09-14T10:02:00.004-05:00

I thought I'd add my movie viewing on this blog.

I am watching a foreign film called Three Times (and I don't get why blogger has bold, italic but not underline and I have to do my own html code).

It was rated five stars somewhere and I put it in my queue but am wondering if I want to finish it. Subtitles, but there is not much conversation at all. I rarely do subtitles, as I usually watch movies while multitasking and there is no way to multitask while reading subtitles.

Supposedly it is a tale of three love stories. I have watched the first one and am in the middle of the second one. I didn't *get* the first one. So far, the second one is confusing me.

Therefore, I looked on Netflix to see why I put it in my queue. Here is what Netflix said:

Love is the central theme in this collection of three stories set in different years -- 1911, 1966 and 2005. In the first tale, a man leaves his true love to serve in the army. When he returns, he finds that his girlfriend has disappeared, so he sets out to find her. A man develops an unlikely bond with two women in the second tale; and four Taipei teens relieve their angst with technology and sex in the last story.

Roger Ebert called it wise and heartbreaking. AO Scott said it was a masterpiece and why cinema exists. Michael Wilmington said it was a masterful, moving film that should belong to every movie lover.

I am a movie lover. I love romance. Combine the two and I should really dig this flick.

All the first story did for me at the moment (without a few days of reflection), is show me how men can fall in love with anybody who pays them the least attention. I kept holding my breath, not because it was breathtaking as much as I was thinking "WHEN are they going to fall in love? Am I missing something? This is what really happened: He left his true love, came back, she was gone and then he played pool with some other chick and decided to write her and fall in love with her and THEN try to find HER. I intently watched for the falling in love part. As I said, there wasn't much dialog, so it wasn't the 'getting to know you' type of falling in love. They played a little pool (oh, and Mr J just said "Mr P's playing pool" right when I typed this!). This was enough for him to forget his first love that he came into the pool room to find and enough to fall in love with someone he doesn't even know. Men.

Then there is the woman, who starts receiving letters from this man from the military. I can get into that part. The art of writing and getting to know each other that way is very conceivable. Do we then assume they are both writing? We only see her receiving one letter. We don't know how she feels about him.

When he comes back to see her, she has moved not once, but twice. This is 1966. I don't know about you, but if I am writing to my true love, you better darn well know I am going to tell him where I am going to move. Women.

Well, I have five loads of laundry to sort and fold and about six more to wash. The viewing of the rest of this film must wait. I usually say, "Forget it!" and stop watching, but there has to be something about this whole movie that I just am not getting. And I am typically someone who doesn't reads reviews until I am finished watching. I don't want things spoiled. I want to watch it from my own eyes. After I am done I will read the full reviews and figure out what the heck I missed.

EDITED: after electricity was restored from the visiting Hurricane Ike, I finished watching the movie. I still didn't like it. I need to connect to the characters in a movie somehow and there wasn't much connecting going on here. The movie was filmed a little differently than most, I'll give it that much. Just little bits of people's lives as if they weren't aware we were watching them think, feel, do and go about their daily stuff that makes us people: pain, despair, frustration, anger. People going about chores, living, driving, singing. There was just the sound or lack of soundtrack and lack of conversation that made it gritty. I was just dumped in the middle of these people's lives trying to figure out what is going on, who is related to whom. Bottom line is for me, it may have been slices of three different times but I really had absolutely no connection to these people no matter how elegantly or how cutting edge/real it was filmed. As I talked with Mr D about it, he said, "Sometimes weird makes it art and makes it a masterpiece." Yep. But that doesn't make me like it. #two story - the man helps to 'free' a concubine, tells his OWN concubine about his great revolutionary plans to change the world but is keeping her trapped in hers. Men.

Story #3, they both are stinkers, cheating on each other's girlfriends without any remorse. Do they love each other? That would make it tolerable, but we don't see that, either.

Oh and on another note, the children's school is putting on the play Anne of Green Gables. Miss L has decided to try out for the part of Minnie May, Diana's annoying little sister. She doesn't quite understand what trying out means. But she does understand about being annoying. She told me that a certain girl in her class was going to get the part - she was sure of it. "What makes you think that?" I asked, thinking that the girl had been in dramas before and loved acting.

Miss L said, "Because she is the most annoying girl in the entire class!"

the stuff little boys are made of

2008-09-12T11:09:00.003-05:00

As I sit here waiting for my online school, k12 to load (which takes forever), trying to get the GED scheduled for Mr D (which is taking forever – apparently it is easier for a high school drop out to take it than a homeschooler), I am looking around the basement I just cleaned. I see an array of guns within a few feet of my desk.

I remember when I found out I was carrying a son (Mr D) in 1990, that I was naively going to make him a sissy… not really – I just was determined not to buy him a gun. Let his dad do that for him, I was going to teach him other things.

When he was one, he and I were playing with my brother’s old cap gun (unloaded, of course), shiny silver with a neon orange tip.

Outside, Mr D would pick up sticks and they would become guns. After watching Red Badge of Courage with me when he was 2 ½, he learned the act of dying with finesse and without finesse after being shot.

I had another son, and another and another and another. I have five sons.

Nerf guns were next. Little ones that shot plastic suction cup (again neon orange) bullets were my favorite. Sometimes they lick the bullets and stick them to the middle of their foreheads. They leave wicked alien marks that they seem to enjoy sporting. Although 18, #1 son owns this nerf bad-boy.

Water guns, mega water guns have all had their home here, used until they break.

We have been through our paint ball stage. Messy. Very messy. Not something a mom wants to clean up. And then there is the problem of always having a ready tank/chamber of whatever it is that costs money to fill and is not in our town. Mr D put his paint ball gun away in the closet, hoping for the day to use it with a full tank. What wasn’t put away was the bag of bullets. Blue bullets. Round, looking like some nice candy – at least Mr M thought so. He surfaced with blue mouth several times. The rest he decided to squeeze all over Mr D’s room from time to time, even after being hidden in various places. Those being gone, somehow we started housing – you guessed it - neon orange paintballs. And have you ever stepped on a paint ball in the middle of the night with your barefeet? It’s like squishing a giant bug. Icky poo.

I bought laser tag guns after that. Now those were pretty darn cool. And not messy. They’ve lasted several years and but are on their last days. Not as fun as a professional laser tag place, though much less expensive.

Two years ago, I purchased enough air soft guns for the entire family. The draw back to this was I figured it would be harder than paint ball to determine if someone had been shot, but if one wears sleeveless shirts and shorts, it’s only a matter of minutes before tell-tale welts appear. They, too have neon orange tips. And neon green bullets. Have you ever stepped on an air soft bullet in the middle of the night with your barefeet? It hurts like heck. They are not air soft at all.

This whole in-born gun play breeds strategy, competition, determination, a code of honor and skill that is built into little boys, and as a mom, I cater to this instinct. There are leagues for not so little boys to still hone their little boy skills.

It’s really quite easy. Little boys want to grow up to become heroes. And little girls want protected from the bad guys in the world. Because guess what? The bad guys are real. God bless the heroes who were once little boys.

The Dark Knight

2008-08-26T21:04:00.002-05:00

I just got back from finally seeing the latest Batman film. I had taken great pains to close my ears and eyes to others' assessments so my own viewing would be fresh and unspoiled.

I liked it. I liked Batman Begins and it is probably my favorite of them all, but this was well done, too.

What you are about to read is my husband's flow of words that I wrote down on the drive home. It all started as we wandered out of the theater. The sky that was light turned to dusk during the movie, and I was contemplating all I had just seen and savoring the whole experience. I asked the obvious question one asks when walking across the pavement to the car: did you like the movie?

His response:

This movie was predictable. Boring! Over the top! Dark, macabre. It was entirely unrealistic. Terrible. I'll never watch it again.

The ineptitude of the police force - oh my gosh!

I'd rather watch Jane Austen or Anne of Green Gables. There was nothing redeeming about it.

My date was fun and I enjoyed her company.

It was two hours too long. There were five people in the theatre which proves that it was boring. I think people went to see it because it was Heath Ledger's last movie. That's all.

Yech, blech. I couldn't even tell you any specifics either. You've seen one batman, you've seen them all. It's been run into the ground. What is this, the fifth movie?

Why couldn't Batman use his normal voice?

The Joker has always been older than Batman. He's never been younger.

Four out of ten stars.

What kind of motorcycle goes through cars? And where is the Chinese dude? They did not stick to the story line very well. I've watched Batman on TV.

He finishes his commentary by laughing derisively. My Man is extremely opinionated and someday I'll have him doing his own blog for your enjoyment - laugh at him or with him, he doesn't really care.

silly people

2008-08-18T12:51:00.000-05:00

I updated here....

and yet you still want more ;)

the non-boring life of me

2008-08-16T09:15:00.005-05:00

My mom tells me practically every day that my last blog entry was misleading. "You do not lead a boring life. You have one of the most unboring lives I know!"

Tis true.

What with 7 kids, drama of all kinds, a 23 yr marriage, my own perpetual screwing up my life, endless running hither and yon we do lead an awfully unboring life.

However, when I started this blog almost two years ago, I promised My Man that I would not post the good, the bad and the ugly, but only the good, the funny, the sublime. And this summer has been full of the bad, the ugly, the nefarious, the out and out wildness of making it in this world. Unfit for publication or at least unfit for this blog's publication.

And there are the really funny things my children say. I get a smile on my face as it would make perfect fodder and the older ones immediately give me this retort: "Do NOT put that on your blog!" You readers have missed quite a lot of amusement at their expense *ahem* I mean on their behalf.

People have asked me if I have ever found the two DVD's from my last entry - the answer is NO. Do NOT ever lose library dvd's. These two cost me $55, which will be refunded if I should ever find them. I have had offers of replacement from some of you, but the library will only take their especially encoded dvd's. Makes me want to stick with netflix all the more - if you lose dvd's from netflix, they just ask that you replace them with any old dvd (mind you, it has to be the same title and not some er pirated copy - but it can be used), so I've replaced them with ebay wins and amazon purchases. But over time I've found the missing netflix movies, so now at least I own them. Not so with the library dvd's. "Forever Gone" - the story of two dvd's that inexplicably ran off while in the household of seven kids. Truly, they were there the night before I had to return them. And then they weren't.

The children start school on Tuesday. In a swift blink of an eye, the summer is gone. Doesn't seem quite long enough, does it? The girls are excited to go back, with the exception of hearing about the new changes to the dress code: shorts to the knees are allowed, and pants to the shoe. BUT NO CAPRIS. Huh? What's up with that? They cover more skin than shorts! So off to replace Miss J's capris. She likes that. Shopping.

Plus last year was very cold in the school so she wore tanks under her uniform polos. This year, the tanks must be the same color as the polos. More school shopping.

The boys are set. Or at least they think they are. They refuse to believe they grew over the summer and need to try on their pants. Remember, pants must touch the tops of shoes and these are inches above. Growing is a good thing. Trying on pants is not a good thing. Nor is shopping unless it is for video games.

Miss J and Mr P are on the golf team this year. It runs in the family through their dad's blood. Miss J is the only girl on the team and I told her to enjoy it. She is. She had to wear polos so that meant a shopping trip to buy her some, as she didn't want to wear school uniform polos during the summer, I mean, come ON, Mom!

Mr J will be homeschooled with Mr M looking over his shoulder and learning via osmosis, hopefully. I am using K12 with him. To test for placement, he was to read the questions on the monitor without any help and then choose the correct answer. Mind you, remember he is six. He would be out of Kindergarten and into first grade. I sat there and pointed to the monitor. "Read these words and then pick the answer that fills the blank," I said, rolling my eyes in disbelief. He would sit there and say, "A" or "C" and then "Mom, I'm good, aren't I?" sigh. His questions were of this ilk: "In Australia, the mother kangaroo keeps her baby in _____?" and then fill in the blank.

I called my cyber helper. "I'm really not supposed to read the sentences and answers to him?"

"No, you're not."

"Do you know what the sentences are?"

"No."

I read her a selection. "There is no way a normal 6 yo would be able to read these sentences and answers. He is guessing on the answers and certainly you can't accurately assess what his placement should be."

Several days later, I get a call with his results and placement for the year. They were very pleased to inform me that he scored exceptionally. I told them no, he guessed. As his mom, I know what he can and can't read and he certainly couldn't read anything they had on that test. No "mop" no "and" no "get".... nothing like that. Should be fun.

I only managed to churn out two layouts in two months. I churned out a lot of bracelets, though and if you want to buy any, as I have had requests, just drop me a note at blingbabe1@gmail.com. I would love to make you one. in fact, I would love to make you one more than I would like to clean my house, hard as that is to believe, so please order a lot in many sizes and many colors for all your friends and relatives and for your entire school.

credits here and here.

Ok, off to shop (Mom's favorite kind - online scrappin') catscraps birthday digi sale.

the boring life of me

2008-07-06T12:51:00.003-05:00

I've had several family members that request updates on my blog, even if I am not my usual funny yet sarcastic self, full of musings of being a scrappin' mom - otherwise known as an outstanding and amazing piece of blog literature .

So what has been going on?

I've lost two dvd's from the library. One was Once, one was Memento. Both were in my bedroom and I knew exactly where they were. Then the next day, they both disappeared. The library has let me renew them five straight times in a row. I'll keep doing it until I can't and then I will have to purchase them. Isn't that exciting?

I've also lost the battle with my flower bed; it has been raining here constantly which is great for our cistern and wonderful for all the weeds.

I've been teaching more and more people how to bead and become fellow addicts and hopefully this week, I'll try to show one of my friends how easy and wonderful digital scrapbooking is - and create yet another addict.

I also joined Facebook as I owe an online friend a scrabble game. Apparently on facebook, one can play a turn and leave for several days or weeks. No stress to finish in one sitting. Since joining only two days ago, I think it is funny how many friends I have acquired. I have come to the conclusion that people collect friends on there. The more friends, the better. And then friends send you things and in order to get those things, one must put applications on her page

At the same time, the directv guy came to install the basic package at my house. It is increasingly harder to receive a clear picture with our rabbit ear antennae. My kids are glued to everything - even the cooking shows.

- oh dear... all this techie stuff suddenly infiltrating my life all at once!!! The song that is going through my head is Madonna's Material girl, but I've changed the words to "You know that we are living in a digital world and I am a digital girl." I think that is why I love beading so much - I am doing something that women have done for thousands of years -- beading grounds me.

2008-06-24T08:07:00.003-05:00

from my friend, Debbie

Cleaning Poem

I asked the Lord to tell me

Why my house is such a mess.

He asked if I'd been 'computering',

And I had to answer 'yes.'

He told me to get off my fanny

And tidy up the house.

And so I started cleaning up...

The smudges off my mouse.

I wiped and shined the topside.

That really did the trick...

I was just admiring my work... >

I didn't mean to 'click.'

But click, I did, and oops I found

A real absorbing site.

That I got SO way into,

I was into it all night.<>

Nothing's changed except my mouse

It's very, very shiny.

I guess my house will stay a mess...

While I sit here on my hiney.

The Two Word Meme

2008-06-17T21:34:00.000-05:00

Two words? Can I do this, Barb??

1. Where is your cell phone? purse pocket
2. Where is your significant other? at work
3. Your hair? In clip
4. Your mother? Having fun
5. Your father? Far away
6. Your favorite thing? My kids
7. Your dream last night? horrifyingly realistic
8. Your favorite drink? caffeine-free diet-pepsi
9. Your dream/goal? Being published
10. The room you're in? master bedroom
11. Your hobby? Too many
12. Your fear? Losing children
13. Where do you want to be in 6 years? Better place
14. Where were you last night? Feeling sick
15. What you're not? Extrovert, mean
16. Muffins? The tops
17. One of your wish list items? Landscaping everywhere
18. Where you grew up? Small ville
19. The last thing you did? Sweep floor
20. What are you wearing? Glasses, jammies
21. Your TV? Dusty, off
22. Your pets? cats, dog
23. Your computer? Needs gigs
24. Your life? Loud, full
25. Your mood? Happy, fearful
26. Missing someone? You bet
27. Your car? 15-passenger van
28. Something you're not wearing? shoes, makeup
29. Favorite store? Bead cage
30. Your summer? Hot, fast
31. Like someone? Of course
32. Your favorite color? orange, mustard
33. When is the last time you laughed? This morning
34. Last time you cried? Last night

layouts

2008-05-16T08:58:00.007-05:00

credits here

surprise

2008-04-12T20:00:00.004-05:00

I am actually going to post something.

Ever since I have been dating Hubby, I have been scaring him. I do a good job of it. It entails a lot of great skills and I've been teaching Miss J...

patience
stealth
cleverness
silence

See, he had NO idea I was creeping up behind him. NONE.

I hide in lots of places waiting for the exact moment to grab his ankles from under the bed or pop out behind some clothes or door or wall or or or...

gotta make life interesting.

obsession

2008-02-25T11:41:00.008-05:00

four years ago, I bought a bracelet. I loved it, everyone loved it... they wanted one - "Can't you make it? Can't you figure it out?" and wanted more of them in different colors. So I went on a hunt. Scoured books... certainly I could figure this out. The books failed me so I started an internet bracelet pattern hunt. I spent hours and hours on the internet dissecting patterns, I took photos of my bracelet and sent them to forums. Professional beaders debated amongst themselves as to what the technique was and sent me to other various sites all leading me down dead ends.

HOURS.... and if you add them all up... well, I don't want to know.

I went to my bead store and asked there. No one could help. Finally, I found a bracelet on ebay that looked similar - it was from Korea. I bought it and asked the beader to leave it unfinished so that I could see how it was made - obviously with it in my hands, I could figure it out. The end result of that brilliant idea is only this: I have an unfinished bracelet.

I took it and the other bracelet to my bead lady who more than likely by this point is tired of seeing me drive up. Last spring I said, "Just please keep these and figure them out... I am tired of using my brain cells for this." I thrust them in her hand and she promised to figure them out. And poor her, every time I went into the shop, all I had to do was open my mouth and she'd say NO. No sound was even uttered by me.

And then at Christmas time, I saw her class sample wall. There it was... the "medici bracelet"... my bracelet. Someone had long last figured it out. But every class was full and I had to wait until Saturday to make mine. It has been an extremely popular class.... go figure ;)

I made one...What happiness.

this isn't mine... this is my friend's. I don't like mine. mine...

My brain has more room now for questions like "What bulb is in my living room?" "Mom, where did I put my money?" "This opening line is from what...."

Not that that extra room in my brain will help me with any of those answers....

words

2008-02-21T09:37:00.011-05:00

and I am here as well... All credits for the layouts in this blog post can be found in my 2lp gallery here.

Ok, so the photo a day isn’t keeping my regulars happy. They want words… and the funny thing is, my regulars don't even know I started a new photo-a-day blog because obviously they don't really READ the words I wrote on this one!

Words… you wants some words? here they are: It was a dark and stormy night... Suddenly, a shot rang out! A door slammed. The maid screamed. Suddenly, a pirate ship appeared on the horizon! While millions of people were starving, the king lived in luxury. Meanwhile, on a small farm in Kansas, a boy was growing up. He was the second cousin thrice-removed of Elphaba's best friend, Dorothy. He was enthralled that the twister had set down a pirate ship and started to investigate when the shot so startled him that he dropped the pig slop he was carrying. Down the plank came Captain Jack Sparrow, "I don't care if millions of people are starving - give me some vittles and I'll take the maid as well..."

there words... Savvy?

I think Mr J is the on the upswing so hopefully the flu will be out of the house soon – his fever is gone. All that remains is the lingering hacking cough from several children. You never realize how many of them are coughing until you are trying to go to sleep. And you are praying that the retching sound is only a cough and the barf buckets are needed.

The other request I have been receiving are photos from Miss J’s homecoming banquet. Well… what can I say. She has turned into a teenager. After 3 hours of getting her pretty, which I have to admit was fun, she turned to the mirror and said, “Wow! Wow! Is this really me?”

This was followed by six hours of the banquet where she had a blast, felt like a princess, had the only coral/pink dress in a sea of black, navy and red making her feel even more unique and special, had a blast, didn’t want it to end, had a blast. Who wouldn’t? She got dressed up, had bling on, spent the night hanging with all her friends and is away from her brothers.

She comes home with the camera and shows me her companions. I uploaded the photos and we watch them on the computer screen. High resolution. Big. Large. Huge.

THEN it happens. “Mom, is my left eye looking different than my right eye?” “Mom, what’s wrong with my face?” “Mom, I hate my smile…” “Mom, why didn’t I get your eyes…” “Mom, you can’t post any photos of me on your blog.”

I didn’t agree to that. Too many family members want to see her. Maybe so much time has passed, she won’t remember any of this and has moved on to the latest teen saga in her life which involves her figuring out how to sell her brothers. They annoy her.

Well, I have been neglecting posting my layouts since the stupid hughesnet has more often than not, shut the internet down here. Here they are…

We had been on a roll with the magic 8 ball answering all sorts of questions (and it always tells the truth, right)? It was residing on my desk along with Bronson but he got jealous about the attention the 8 ball was getting so I had to return it to the boys' room.

my big thick socks that can't be worn with any shoes - but I don't like to wear shoes anyway so...

poor kid threw up for DAYS and then this week got yet another high fever with the nasty respiratory flu.

The only sibling Miss J doesn't want to sell.

currently residing, that is, until Miss J sells him...

my mom saw the photos of Miss J (who is only 14) and said, "Doesn't it hurt to see her looking this grown up?" yep. I can't stand the thought of my kids leaving the house. It will happen all too soon (especially if Miss J figures out how the black market works)...

almost over

2008-02-07T23:24:00.000-05:00

Six of the seven kids have now had the flu. They each ended up with their own bucket. Mr M decided to have it the longest - from last Wednesday to this Monday, he'd insist on eating something and then puke it up. Then want something else. See my post on the phenomenon of the progression of hurling. On Tuesday Mr W ended up puking at school twice. Poor kid. Mr P went to collect W's homework today and said his desk reeked of it. Aren't brothers nice?

Both parents had it, and I have to admit, I did empty the contents of my stomach. But I made sure it tasted like raspberry Crystal Light first. Not bad.

The only one the clock is against is Mr D. He is hiding out in his bedroom or the bonus room.

Tick, tock... It's just a matter of time...

and fyi, Tink - just when Mr M was doing the potty thing really well, this hit and he's been in diapers all week. and I am SO glad. eeeuuuuuuuuuuu.....

project 365

2008-02-07T23:12:00.000-05:00

somewhere in cyber world, there is a movement called project 365. I've not looked into it, but the basic idea is to take a photo of your world each day and post it. I believe they use themes, but I decided not to. I decided to use this to improve my photography skills and prove to you guys (you know who you are) that I am, indeed, alive and well when I don't post. I have a new blog called minimal verbage... well no, that's not its real name but you won't find many words there.

A photo of my choosing and no pressure whatsoever to come up with anything intelligent or witty.

whew... I've even uploaded some new layouts on my dsp site and at 2littlepixels where Sharon and Megan have the absolute BEST grab bags I've seen in digiland.

and on day three, Mother, is my hyacinth - totally smoking yours and is such a gorgeous site in the middle of winter.

bling-a-ling-a-ling

2008-02-07T22:32:00.001-05:00

I am here and I am beading. Miss J has been asked to the school's homecoming 'banquet'... nope it isn't Fall nor is it a dance. It is basketball season and it is a banquet. She was asked the second week of school by some kid she didn't know. She said maybe. Well maybe turned to yes, as they ended up being buddies of a kind. She thinks he is weird, but that's how she sees boys in general. He is on the cool side of weird while other boys are on the extremely annoying side of weird. That's fine with me, as in a few years boys will not be weird anymore. Her dad went to school a few weeks ago, and the 'date' and he came to an understanding. The maybe turned into a yes from Dad.

Therefore, the hunt for the perfect dress was on. Not just any dress, but something a little different. We went through hundreds of dresses on eBay and as soon as I saw this one, I knew I would have wanted it. As I clicked through all the options, she said yeh, or nah to them. I clicked on thsi one.... She OOOOOOooooooo'd when she saw it. Bingo... Now we had to win it. And since Mom is a sniper, she won it - for $16.

Fun, classy, one of a kind... and BLING!!! (plus it fits both of us)

Next was the accessories to go with the $16 dress. Silver sandals, silver clutch (free from mom's closet and brand-spanking new - like Mom ever goes anywhere) - time for bling shopping. No necklace needed but how about the perfect pair of earrings and a bracelet? After help from our friendly bead store lady, Miss J left with a tiny bag of beads, crystals and findings and Mom left $60 lighter (but Miss J assured her that she would cover the bill)... $60 worth of bling for a $16 dress.... Sounds about the correct bling to clothing ratio.

We settled on a 'quick' pattern I have used before and I then assured Miss J 'easy peasy' - I'll get it done by Saturday. I didn't uh... well... factor in that I was using beads half as big as the pattern suggested so this took two more days than the last one.

the base... I wove a base of tri's to fit her wrist and then the 3 and 4mm crystals and seed beads went on top of those. I can't do the crystals justice with my camera. Never have been able to. Here is a shot in natural lighting...

Here is a shot of me just sitting on the couch with middle -aged eyes lighting away from the window. And it is simply stunning.

I am in love with this color now: rose water quartz ab2 - such a delicate subtle color with pink and coral tones.

ps, of course I made sure I can fit into this, too.

how many times

2008-01-30T09:16:00.000-05:00

can a little guy say, "I don't want to wear big-boy pants! I wanna wear bipers!"

263 and counting... One right after another....

278....

edited: he manages each phrase in under 5 seconds and says it again immediately... which means he can get 12 of these in one minute. Therefore my counting from above was far from accurate.... In one hour he has said it 720 times.

AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

life in the fast lane

2008-01-29T23:00:00.000-05:00

sorry for the neglect... I am just busy. Life with all these kids is a busy one. And now they are barfing.

Bless Mr P's heart... he tossed his cookies at school. What a kid's nightmare. But fortunately, he managed to get out of the classroom, into the hall, and did it in a garbage pail. The school nurse called me, he came home and actually did ALL his homework before collapsing in a heap on the couch.

Speaking of life in the fast lane, I have experienced it.

Where is the Fast Lane, you ask? Well, at a swim meet, the fast lanes are lanes 3 and 4 with 1 and 6 being the slowest. Slow to fast, they work in towards the middle.

And Life there is WET... drenched. I get WET, cold, chilled and it is thrilling. I am a timer. I get to see my daughter swim and she has improved so much this year. I also get to meet some great kids. Unlike track meets, volley ball, basketball and football games, etc, where one school is in a contest with another, at these meets, 10-15 schools meet at one time. That means I see the same hundreds of kids each week. I am not good at remembering their names, though, and since they have swim caps on, that makes it even more difficult. I get to encourage them to better their times and I get to yell for them.

What I do is stand with a clipboard which doubles as a splash guard when the kids dive in, I make sure the right swimmer is on the starting blocks, I start my stopwatch as soon as I hear the official timer go off. I have to lean over the edge of the pool to make sure the kids touch at the end, I shut off my watch, I record my time and my partner's time. Then off to the next event. Constant.... CONSTANT. Pool records, meet records - these are great athletes.

My photos of the swim meets have come out better than the basketball games; I think it has to do with the water/light... but I had to adjust my camera, use a manual setting thanks to some help :) I would still like to be able to get droplets of water, but without laying out the mega bucks for a meg-lens, this is fine.

on the blocks...

Miss J doing the backstroke.

The events take foooorrrreeeever. I get there at 6: 30, stretching is at 6:45, warmups in the pool are assigned later, the meet starts at 8:00, over at 11:30, home at 12:30 am...

I am too old for this and it takes me all weekend to recover from standing on tile. I am feeling every bit of my 'cough' middle-age. I sound like a bowl of Rice Krispies when I climb in and out of bed as various bits of my body snap, crackle and pop. And seeing how I don't know how to swim, this is a life-threatening job. Actually, I do it for free, so it isn't even a job. It sure does make the meets go faster to be timing, though. I just hope no one throws me in. I'm a goner.

And now I understand this saying: "If I have but one day to live, let me live it at a swim meet. ---They Last Forever."

signs of the times

2008-01-10T21:58:00.000-05:00

here is a super quick layout made with vintage charm's design blueprint. (check out the sale!!)

I never did post any photos from my trip to the Renaissance Festival. I should do that sometime. But for the interim, I hope you enjoy this layout. If you can't read the signs, (cough cough, Daddy) I'll just type them here.

the musician's basket: suggested tip, $5,000.00. (He had a boatload of money in that basket of his and some were $20's.)

the p0ttery is self-explanatory. They also had jugs of old toenails, sbd's, ashes of problem students, bling, bullsh*t, fantasies.

at a jewelry store: Unattended children will be given free espresso and a bell. (wouldn't that be a mom's nightmare?)

At an ironworks shop: we take visa, discover, mastercard, American Express. Sometimes we even give it back!

smithy: Must be 18 years of age to touch, handle, purchase or fondle weapons or employees.

oh shoot. I forgot to put in one of the signs (er, smells) ... here it is:

I do enjoy a good sign. The funniest sign I saw this week was from one of Miss J's swimteam members:

signing off for now,
me

morning workout

2008-01-08T09:50:00.000-05:00

credits here.

Here is Miss J with her morning workout from the weekend. I walked by the bathroom and did a double-take. She reminded me of Thing from the Addams Family but then I realized Thing was a hand that creeped me out, since it reminded me of a hand that lurked in my dad's study. She really is Itt, the hairy cousin. After thirty minutes of combing out the knots, she decided that she will no longer take a quick shower sans conditioner. The extra two minutes for the beauty treatment are well worth it.

My workout is much less painful: I love really funny emails... and I love laughing (I figure I work my abs out that way therefore it counts as exercise and it justifies my chocolate intake) but I hate forwarding the emails I get to others. Hence, the posting.

Amazingly Simple Home Remedies

1) If you're choking on an ice cube, simply pour a cup of boiling water down your throat. Presto! The blockage will instantly remove itself.

2) Avoid cutting yourself when slicing vegetables by getting someone else to hold while you chop.

3) Avoid arguments with the Mrs. about lifting the toilet seat by using the sink.

4) For high blood pressure sufferers: simply cut yourself and bleed for a few minutes, thus reducing the pressure in your veins. Remember to use a timer.

5) A mouse trap, placed on top of your alarm clock, will prevent you from rolling over and going back to sleep after you hit the snooze button.

6) If you have a bad cough, take a large dose of laxatives, then you'll be afraid to cough.

7) You only need two tools in life - WD-40 and Duct Tape. If it doesn't move and should, use the WD-40. If it shouldn't move and does, use the duct tape.

8) If you can't fix it with a hammer, you've got an electrical problem.

ugh, my dishwasher just quit. It quit sometime yesterday without giving me notice. There was yucky water left from the last load and the buttons I pushed wouldn't get rid of it. I flipped the circuit breaker. Nothing. I got My Man out of bed and he couldn't figure it out. Today he took it apart, said all the electrical parts were working, had me wash all the parts he unscrewed after which he declared that I am going to get a new machine. I wore this one out. I love my dishwasher and it was only five years old.

I wonder which machine will die next? I am thinking the washer. Then I will get my front loader :)

Slap me silly, I know what happened! As I was leaning against the washer to prevent it from spinning out into the hallway, I said, "I hate this washer." The appliance fairy's hearing aid short circuited at that precise moment and he thought I said dishwasher.

go blue and white

2008-01-05T21:15:00.000-05:00

Last night I went to a high school basketball game where I photographed my friend’s son, Nate. My indoor sports photography was tested. And I think I failed. The first one is using the sports mode, which usually does a great job, but then I have only used it outside. I was very disappointed in the results. Blurry. :(

I ended up just putting it on auto and focusing off and on the whole game. Of course, whenever Nate did anything great, the guy pretending to be a zebra would inevitably be in the way.

But I had fun people watching.

Same things happened as when I was in high school…There were the grandparents watching with pride, the dads and moms shouting, really getting into the game and socializing with other adults, the little brothers and sisters who were yawning and half-paying attention, the girls who came to be seen in non-school uniform garb and the boys who were watching the girls walk by plus cheering for their buddies on the court.

What has changed since I went to school:

The boys: they grow them bigger than when I was growing up. The JV team was filled with boys who looked like the seniors I graduated with. The Varsity team was huge. Well, until the visiting team hit the floor, then our Varsity team looked puny. These guys were ginormous. They trounced us. With a flick of the wrist, they could put the ball in the net.

The uniforms: the bb uniforms my schoolmates included were tight shorts and they were indeed short. Today, you could make three of those out of the loose, flowing shorts the team wears now. They go down to the knees and still, the boys liked to pull them further down.

And I had fun (albeit mingled with some disgust) watching how the boys would lick their hands and smear the spit on the bottom of their shoes.

One thing I remember about basketball in general was the sound of the squeakiness from all the boys pivoting and moving about on the floor. And the smell of sweat. I remember that. It came back to me last night as the scent drifted over my way as well as the memory of how some of the more obnoxious players would grab a hapless cheerleader (me) and rub their sweat all over before they hit the showers. BOYS. blah.

The cheerleading uniforms have changed. My skirt was short and pleated, which meant when I did my flips, the skirt plopped down quite nicely and quickly. These poor cheerleaders last night would do a cartwheel and then their skirts would be stuck up on their hips, they’d have to tug them down which was not flattering seeing how some of the girls were a little on the chubby side.

I loved going to basketball games. And actually, I liked cheering for basketball more than football. It was warmer, the pep band rocked, the games all ended relatively in the same amount of time. Four minutes in football could last twenty minutes and wearing short skirts while it was snowing was not fun.

One thing I really miss was being able to get into games free. Last night the lady at the door saw me taking photos and asked if I were there on school business, hence a free admission. I said no. duh. What was I thinking? I guess I could say I was a cheerleader, but I don't think I would be so convincing any more and although I can still do the splits, I'd have to wear depends to be on the safe side...

Yep, I am the one who is doing the splits in mid-air. And when there were six of us, the smallest (Debbie - fortunately a pint-sized girl) would actually then step on my legs while I did the splits.

Uh, yeh, the photographer gig sounds doable. Next time, when the ticket lady ogles my 75-300 lens, I'll just say, "Yep, I'm the official photographer..." for Nate anyway.

Dear Aunt Barb,

2007-12-29T16:37:00.001-05:00

Mr P was Santa of the day.

I am so sorry you weren't able to make it to our house for Christmas. I'm hope you feel better soon. I will try to recreate the day so you feel as if you didn't miss a thing.

You know we did an oddity by having 'the day' on Christmas Eve night instead of Christmas morning. This is a first for me. There wasn't anyone waking us up at 6AM. I didn't miss that. I did miss putting the presents under the tree when the kids were asleep. Ahem, I mean, I missed having Santa put the presents under the tree. But I also liked the atmosphere of having the candles glowing and lights twinkling.

In the morning, all the stockings were hung by the chimney with care and I finally got my very own after 22 years. You would have been able to spot it immediately as mine - it has beads sewn on it.

The kids asked a million times "when are we going to open our presents?" This was closely followed by "When is Uncle C going to get here?" Funny, how the majority of my Christmases revolve around my brother.

The afternoon was spent cleaning, cooking and carving. I had fun with my food, as usual.

the friar

the spoiled little boy

the imp

the uh, I don't know...

the teenager

curious george

the socialite

(her beauty mark fell off when I stuck the feather in her pompadour)

the alien

I did the table in the afternoon, which was a mistake, seeing how the kids ran all around it and accidentally pulled the table cloth. It wasn't a white Christmas, it was a WET Christmas, and sending them outside was not an option.

Fortunately, my cool cranberry glassware was not broken. But Mr M and Mr J sat at the table starting at 2pm eating pretend food and waiting for the turkey to arrive. I told them that Uncle C wouldn't be there until after 5 but they still sat and waited. The table was covered with the spill-resistant tablecloth you gave me a couple of years ago. A dot of water was on it, sitting on top, jiggling around, looking for the world like a huge contact lens. I could chase it around the table and it would stay intact in one floating glob. Mr M was terrified it was going to get him and smashed it into a billion molecules with his spoon.

Since it was Christmas Eve day and not night, the reindeer didn't want to be spotted, so Santa was by himself. He drove an suv and was quickly embarrassed as we are a truck town, and not a suv town.

We put up a ladder to make it easier for him to reach the chimney.

The older kids were given the opportunity to play with fire - they lit candles all over the house. The little guys followed them to do their duty of blowing them all out.

We had carols going, and a battle ensued. I'd turn them up, My Man would turn them off. I would turn them on; he'd turn them off.

When a female child entered the kitchen being bored, I would put her to work. The boys were too fast for me and would run out.

Finally the uncle arrived. He was tackled at the door.

Mr W was fully-clothed at one point. Apparently he still thinks garments are for the morning, and as he warms up during the day, he sheds them - ha, he isn't even menopausal! By present-time, he was shirtless and pantless.

Here is Mr W after Uncle C warned that if Mr W touched ANY of the presents under the tree, Mr W would be receiving nothing...

Even though Uncle C was now in the house, the children had to endure the traditional turkey dinner before the present fest. Food like this is lost on the youth.

Just as when I was a child, Uncle C was the barometer of when presents were going to be opened. The kids watched him eat. And Eat. AND EAT. The kids were done in two minutes.

There was a lot of whining during dinner, and this particular one was from the Northwest courtesy of Uncle C and you. Hogue Chardonnay 2005 from Prosser, Washington. Yummy.

When Uncle C was at last finished, and only then, were they allowed to go downstairs and see what Santa had been up to while we feasted.

Yes, you guessed it; this is your husband's plate - the drumstick.

We opened presents

M was thrilled with your gift of the upside down tomatoes. I am sure we will hear about the wee little ones growing next year.

Miss L was adorable in her penguin attire.

Are you sure you didn't hear the ear-splitting scream let out by Mr W when he opened his presents? Especially the avatar dvd's from you guys?

The game of life Johnny Depp style, Savvy?

After several dvd's Mr J said, "Am I only getting movies this year?" Yeh, basically. They are easy to move, my son.

What was the granma thinking? Giving a harmonica to a three year old? It was the first present he opened and he was DONE - completely thrilled with it.

The amp was a hit. Miss J hugged and kissed it.

my books. DO you hear, kids? MINE..... I'm half-way done the first one. Thanks, Barb!!

He loved his gloves and his movie.

One of my favorites - a man made out of tin! Did you know that M actually ate sardines for the cans for his feet?

Uncle C and I did computer things until the children "kindly" reminded us over and over again that the stockings were begging to be looted.

This is me waiting for Mr M to finally wear out. And to stop playing the harmonica (which is in his hand but usually was in his mouth). I think we were watching blue's clues when Steve was a baby. ALL the kids watched it.

I actually forgot I had a stocking of my own, and after about an hour of trying to convince Mr M he really wanted to be asleep instead of eating his candy necklace, I dumped my goodies out. Inside I had a pair of nails linked together. In fact, several of us had the very same puzzling set. We sat around and played with them.

I couldn't figure how to get them apart but while jabbering away with C, they just fell on my lap. I have no clue how I did it, I just did it. and then I did it again. And again.

C didn't like this.

In fact, he was flummoxed for quite a while, which appeared to mean he got his money's worth out of it. He got it eventually, and unlike me, seemed to understand how they came apart.

I also got a tin of the world's thinnest cookies made in Salem North Carolina. I figured they are so thin, they mustn't have any calories. And anyway, since Santa wasn't going to eat any, I had to do it for him.

YES!!! Mr M finally falls asleep.

And then BAM! the electricity went out, Grandma D went right on knitting in the dark and telling us how she grew up with one kerosene lamp for the room.

There went Mr M being sound asleep. The little guys were terrified and I hit the sack with them. What a mistake. (The rest of the week has been Mr M yelling for me every night since there are scary monsters in his bed. I pulled up the blankets and all I found were two stinky piggies wiggling back at me. He wants me to sleep with him and his feet. groan......)

Well, Barb, it is time for me to finally post this... It has taken me all week to upload the photos. You'd think Santa would have gotten my hint for more bandwidth, but apparently I've been quite naughty this year.

Your sister in law,
me

happy birthday!

2007-12-20T22:23:00.000-05:00

There are SOOO many December birthdays in my life...

Just moments ago, I was talking to my brother Theo (12/6), when Miss J brought my cell phone in to tell me Theo and my mom were on the phone. HUH? How could that be possible?

I listened just a second and said, "Hey, it's not Theo, it's Phillip!" And it was weird. They were on a three-way call with me, my brother Phillip (12/5) and my mom (12/20) and on the other phone I was talking to my brother Theo.

My mom, SNICKER, asked me if Phillip could hear Theo talking. I reminded her that despite appearances, fortunately all was not vacuous in-between my ears, so NO, Theo could not hear Phillip talking.

Then Phillip and I did a tag-team Happy Birthday song for our mom.

Here is Miss J talking to her cousin, Miss H, her grandmother and her Uncle. She giggled a lot.

Other birthdays this month is my neato-fantabulous sister in law 12/18 and my beautiful niece Miss M (12 oops, I can't find my birthday calendar so I will guess 15th), my aunt Bertie, several other cousins and a few friends.

Speaking of my niece, Miss M, I have her and my other niece, Miss H on my refrigerator. People who see these photos think they are sisters. They aren't remotely related. One is my niece through blood and the other is my niece through marriage and both are gorgeous! Look at those smiles! Both like to giggle.

speaking of giggling, I have a great funny from my friend Debbie (whose husband is doctor, but I doubt these answers came from him - now I would totally believe they came from Debbie):

Doctor and Patient Health Seminar

Q&A Session

Q: I've heard that cardiovascular exercise can prolong life; is this true?

A: Your heart is only good for so many beats, and that's it... Don't waste them on exercise. Everything wears out eventually. Speeding up your heart will not make you live longer; that's like saying you can extend the life of your car by driving it faster. Want to live longer? Take a nap.

Q: Should I cut down on meat and eat more fruits and vegetables?

A: You must grasp logistical efficiencies. What does a cow eat? Hay and corn And what are these? Vegetables. So a steak is nothing more than an efficient mechanism of delivering vegetables to your system. Need grain? Eat chicken. Beef is also a good source of field grass (green leafy vegetable). And a pork chop can give you 100% of your recommended daily allowance of vegetable products

Q: Should I reduce my alcohol intake?

A: No, not at all. Wine is made from fruit. Brandy is distilled wine, that means they take the water out of the fruity bit so you get even more of the goodness that way. Beer is also made out of grain. Bottoms up!

Q: How can I calculate my body/fat ratio?

A: Well, if you have a body and you have fat, your ratio is one to one. If you have two bodies, your ratio is two to one, etc .

Q: What are some of the advantages of participating in a regular exercise program?

A: Can't think of a single one, sorry. My philosophy is: No Pain...Good!

Q: Aren't fried foods bad for you?

A: You're not listening....Foods are fried these days in vegetable oil. In fact, they're permeated in it How could getting more vegetables be bad for you?

Q: Will sit-ups help prevent me from getting a little soft around the middle?

A: Definitely not! When you exercise a muscle, it gets bigger. You should only be doing sit-ups if you want a bigger stomach.

Q: Is chocolate bad for me?

A: Are you crazy? HELLO Cocoa beans! Another vegetable. It's the best feel-good food around! !

Q: Is swimming good for your figure?

A: If swimming is good for your figure, explain whales to me.

Q: Is getting in-shape important for my lifestyle?

A: Hey! 'Round' is a shape! !

Well, I hope this has cleared up any misconceptions you may have had about food and diets.

And remember:
"Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways - Chardonnay in one hand - chocolate in the other - body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming, "WOO HOO, What
A Ride!!!!

ok, I think you all laughed enough (therefore exercising your abs) to reward yourself with some chocolate!

us

2007-12-16T15:30:00.000-05:00

Dani Mogstad Maddy's smile. Leora Neutral trims. MCO Clair de Lune for flower. SBS autumn decay for photo overlay.

I've been having oodles of fun with my 14 1/2 yo daughter recently. She and I have been learning to play the guitar this year. She says I have a 'leg' up on her since my fingers are longer. While I digi-scrap, answer email or help her with algebra, she or I usually have music playing, the guitar in hand, strumming away and eventually collapsing in so much laughter we can't talk.

We are bad.

But we have fun.

Appalachian Christmas

2007-12-13T15:39:00.000-05:00

what a cute night... credits here except I did add some TADA music items. It looked lonely.

The children were coal miners and land owners and they performed Christmas songs sung with different words.

Here is up on the housetop the reindeer pause (paws???)

Down in the mine shaft every day

All the miners toil away

Coal dust covers head to toe

Tons of coal but not much dough.

Down in the mines with dynamite

Setting charges in the light

Cast by a pair of carbine lamps

Me and junior, dad and gramps

Nonono not much more

Credit at the company store

If you think your budget’s tight

Come with us and spend the night

They sang this song, too.

We three miners picking away

In the tunnels day after day

Push the carts out

Work our hearts out

All for a pauper’s pay

Oooooooh oooooh

Tons of coal and loads and yet

All we get is more in debt

Is there something better coming

Something that we won’t regret

The Bible says man is made of mud

And the poor man uses his muscle and blood

Muscle and blood skin and bone

A mind that’s weak and a back that’s strong

You loan sixteen tons and what do you get

Another day older and deeper in debt

When the Lord starts calling, I’ve got to go

Or I’ll owe my soul to the company store.

Clock keeps ticking and the calendar turns

The seasons change and the candle burns

I sit and I wonder as I look at the mine

Is there better at the end of the time.

The kids had soot on their faces, flannel shirts, overalls, construction hats with lights attached. Mr W had the hugest hat and it kept sliding down and when the kids were finally all on stage singing, he kept bobbing his hat up and down. (Bad shot, no flash, me in the back and the kids were all walking and lining up.) He is the fifth one from the left. They did a lot of hand motions and I was afraid the kids on the highest riser would fall off in their enthusiasm, but all was well.

There, Grandma D! You now have the words and I just had a mini concert by Mr W who sang to me while I typed the words and the wrong words apparently at that - "Mom, it is toled. We toled away in the mines" snicker....

A throw-back to the good old days when I was a kid in the school programs in a hot gymnasium packed with school mates; we could see our parents sitting in the other bleachers waiting for the whole thing to be over. We would be attired in non-school dress, and being in the school at night, with the anticipation of the songs we had rehearsed for months, made it a magical night.

And just when the parents thought it was safe to leave, Santa would come out and the entire school (K-12) would line up and individually go up to Santa, get a candy cane and try to guess which teacher was behind the beard. Great times :D

Happy Birthday

2007-12-06T21:44:00.000-05:00

I love you!

some layouts I created this week.

gifted by Elizabeth Weaver; graphic frames by Katie Pertiet; hearts by me

My beautiful daughter, Miss L.

Michelle Coleman Glow, Andrea Cox ribbon, Meryl Bartho Alikai butterfly, Katie Pertiet Frames with Flourishes, Suzanne Walker Modern Millie font, Jen Caputo edges that I combined to make a frame

The kids officially had their first snow day this week. And today, their first 2-hour delay. They are praying for another tomorrow, but it is the Christmas program and Miss L said they would never EVER cancel school on program day (ie, they better not).

Snow on the ground, snow melting all over my kitchen, my socks getting wet… lights up… it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas. And sound like Christmas.

I have a cd of a childhood Christmas album. It is close to but not the exact album my family owned. So here I sit belting out carols, and of course I KNOW which carol comes next, but NOOOOoooo, the songs are out of order on this particular compilation. And the really funny thing is some of the songs on our lp had scratches in the middle of them and I internally get ready for that glitch and - it isn’t there. It’s a bit jarring to have it not be there and to actually listen to a perfect rendition.

“Little Drummer Boy” reminds me of Theo. That song goes on FOReeeeeVER. Mr W boycotts it each time it is on.

I need to figure out what lp’s my family owned, though. Somehow it doesn’t quite seem like Christmas until I hear all the songs I listened to as a child.

I leave you with an image of Woody taken from my bathtub one day before the snowfall...

blog blather

2007-11-29T16:01:00.000-05:00

I still can't believe it. What was I thinking?

I was looking through old photo albums and found this one of Miss J. Her hair stuck straight up for over a year. She was one of those babies that melted everyone's heart immediately. Now she is a teenager. That's ok, I forgive her. I was one once, too. So I made her the following layout.

This is one of Mr W. He still remains the clown of the family. Always ON.

Ok, the prompt du jour.

What inventions are you most thankful for and why?

Camera – to photograph the world and its people. Obviously we learn so much from seeing photographs, whether it is from an historical viewpoint or just, “wow, I have big ears just like my granpa!”

Car – to drive around various parts of the world to visit people. I can’t imagine having to ride a horse, a wagon or plain old walk to get anywhere. I doubt if I’d be a country girl like I am now. I’d be a city girl for sure.

Computer – because it is so much a part of my life and allows me to connect to the world and my favorite people.

Printing press – for books to learn more about the world and to uh… escape from people?

Glasses – to see the world and people. When I was in high school and college, and my prescription changed every single year, I remember my eye doctor telling me not to read so much. Ha. And then later when I started working he told me not to use the computer so much. Double Ha.

thankful for...

2007-11-25T15:24:00.000-05:00

First off, the following blog is a compendium of almost all of the November dsp blog prompts rolled up in one post.

Secondly, Sharon and Megan have launched their own digital store called two little pixels. And I am a pixel chick (aka creative team member!).

credits here
credits here
credits here

Ok, so here is my thankful blog post...

Think of all the new things on the market since our parents were young and what they had to work with. What cleaning supplies are you thankful for?

Clorox wipes.
my Johnny mop and toilet stuff (I just pretend the toilet is a giant troll’s tooth and my job is to get all the plaque off – gross, but it does help me stop thinking of what it is I am really cleaning)
the magic mr clean eraser to get off the sharpie and dry erase marker off the wall. I swear, Mr M and Mr J are going to be artists when they grow up. Or at least dabble in graffiti.
does toothpaste and floss count? They clean teeth!
Oh, and definitely baby wipes. They clean up things as well ;)

What modes of transportation are you thankful for?

Car

Plane

Feet

What things are you able to do are you thankful for?

Walk, talk, think…..

Read, write, think

Be creative

Connect with loved ones in many different ways almost every day

What clothing are you thankful for?

Anything that feels like pj’s!!! comfy clothing. Clothing wears very nicely and doesn’t pill. Clothing that is a little romantic.

What colors are you thankful for?

Black is classy and goes with anything, whether it is clothing or furnishings.

Orange is cheery. Green is soothing. Purple is cool, too. Creamy white, purple and black would be the colors of my ‘office’ where I would create endless scrapbook pages, novels and bracelets and do scads of daydreaming.

What 3 jobs do other people hold are you thankful for?

GARBAGE man!! Hooooooray! Gosh I am so glad the garbage man rolls around every week to take away the trash.

Teachers – now that I am no longer home-schooling, I am grateful for the people who are investing their time into my own children.

My Man – out on the job all the time building or doing his general contracting thing so I can eat and live in relative comfort.

What things or traits you have inherited are you thankful for?

My love of growing things

My love of reading

My love of my family and children

My wit and humor

What things that comfort you are you thankful for?

My family and friends. My children’s kisses and hugs. Chocolate. Books. A nice fire. Not having to go anywhere.

What sources of entertainment are you thankful for?

Music, film, books, camera, computer and people watching (and children watching)

What food are you thankful for?

Beef. Homemade popcorn. Mashed potatoes. Chocolate. Ice cream (with chocolate in it in some form), home made bread, rich creamy soups. Reuben sandwiches

What stores are you thankful for?

Walmart for everything under the sun that my family needs

Thrift stores for the big designer ‘hunt’

Internet stores (amazon, aunties beads and digital scrapbooking stores)

Aldi for selling the same things more inexpensively.

Ebay (it’s more fun when you win it)

Give 3 or more reasons why you are thankful it is Autumn.

I love the colors… the Bradford pears are STILL showing off the most delightful orange and fiery reds right now. It is November 25 and they are show-boat their stuff all over the place. I wondered if the drought this summer would have detrimental effects on the foliage, but the opposite has occurred. This has to be the most awesome fall I have ever lived through.

I love the smells. I love the crispness of the air and beauty of the fall sky whether it is bright cloudless blue or deep thunderous gray. I love that it isn’t HOT anymore.

What furniture are you thankful for?

My leather sectional although it needs either repaired or replaced. All 9 of us can fit on it.

My padded, swivel desk chair on which I spend way too much time .

My bed so I can collapse and rejuvenate each night (although a new mattress might be nice – one night in bed My Man turned to me and said, ‘There is a dip in this bed.’ I said, ‘Honey, don’t be so hard on yourself.’) ZING.

happy thanksgiving!

2007-11-22T10:05:00.000-05:00

What kitchen items are you thankful for?

Easy… dishwasher, refrigerator and gas stove.

Next would be my new under the cabinet cd player from my sister. I can listen to MY music while I cook and clean.

I would really like to be thankful for a cook. Really. I would be SO thankful. Someone else can be the one who spends time cooking only to hear half the family say, “Eeeuuuu, I hate that!” sigh…

Microwaves come in handy.

Before I was gestational-diabetic, I made home-made bread and rolls almost every day – I was completely taken with my bread machine however only for its usefulness in kneading (although I LOVE to knead bread dough – that texture when it is perfect is hard to beat – reminds me of soft baby skin).

Let’s think…

The can opener from Pampered Chef that doesn’t leave sharp edges. The silicone hot pads. My wooden pizza peel. My sorta expensive non-stick cookware (except it has to be hand-washed). The coffee maker. My big kitchen windows that let me escape from the mundane and transport myself into the ethereal with one gaze.

I get the message

2007-11-21T22:14:00.000-05:00

You missed me :) cool!

What family members are you thankful for and why?

I am thankful for all the family members who have been harassing me lately about my non-blogging. I didn’t know you cared so much. I'll do better.

I am thankful for all seven of my children even on bad days. I have to remember those bad things make GREAT scrapbook pages so I have taken to laughing at them at the moment instead of waiting years. Like today. How on EARTH did Mr M get marker all over his backside? All fingers point to – HIM. Can’t figure it out. He even says he did it. Hopefully he thinks we will be distracted from the art previously done on the wall to even notice his back.

And the closet wall?

I just cleaned out the closet, so Mr J thought it begged for some artwork. Cute artwork. I was exasperated for a nano-second and had to photograph it. Here is his explanation: "Oh yeh, Mom." giggle giggle. "This is a bad guy who ate the friend of the guy on the right. The middle thing is a bad guy who shoots machine guns at you. Mom, I am going to save the good guy from the bad guys."

I am thankful for my mom who watched the kids today so My Man and I could go see Bella. And I will be thankful for her watching them on Saturday as well so I can see Beowulf in 3-D (yeh, baby!).

I am thankful for my dad who keeps me updated on world events via my inbox.

I am thankful that My Man works hard to provide a great house, food and warmth for us.

I am thankful for my brothers, sister and sister-in-law who have loved me so very much.

I couldn’t have made it through another year without you guys!

the latest

2007-11-07T22:06:00.000-05:00

I saw this photo when burning a disc for my brother - hey Clifford, you'll be getting a disc from our Pittsburgh trip and our Renaissance Festival day from M when she comes over tomorrow. I was going to ditch the photo since it is blurry, but Jodie from my [ksharonkdesigns] Creative Team lets her kids take photos and creates layouts from them. I asked Miss L, the photographer of this picture, what she thinks of when she thinks of me, her mom. And tada! A page is born. She threw in that I get mad at Dad. "When? When do I get mad at Dad?"

"Oh Mom, you know... when he makes weird decisions." That had me laughing...

"What do I do when I am mad?" She couldn't say. I'm not physical, I don't yell, I don't throw things... so how does she know I get mad? I read this to My Man and he said I give him the finger... the first finger, that is. I narrow my eyes and point my first finger at him. It doesn't work.

papers, flowers, frame and sequins by [ksharonkdesigns] from grungecity, all natural, girl basics; black stitch by syrin at catscraps, ribbon and sprinkles with hearts from TADA; heart doodle from jan 06 freebie at 2Peas.

"When are you going to update your blog?" they ask...

I don't know... when life dies down?

I went to a church youth rally in PA with Miss J this weekend driving Miss J and four kids from our area churches. Right before I left and with all these teens looking at me, I got a call from my sister. She tearfully and emotionally informed me that she had just been diagnosed with MRSA. How frightening this has been. I burned up almost 300 minutes to, during and from the rally.

Her doctor assured her that she wouldn't die, despite all the stories from the media saying otherwise. My sister has been quarantined in her apartment. She is a mover and shaker; I think this is the longest she has ever gone without leaving. When she visits me and sees my life of just being content sitting at home, she goes stir-crazy. "Need anything from town? I'll get it!" she'll say. So it was reassuring to hear today that she was finally getting out. She is not contagious assuming all the lesions on her body are covered. Not well enough for work yet. I think they had to decontaminate her cubicle. And if you think my desk is messy, well........... you haven't' seen anything.

Kind of puts life into perspective. What would you do if you knew you only had a few weeks, days, years left to live? Would you be content with what you have and feel blessed for it? Or would this spur you on to grabbing your dreams while you can?

for the love of gourd

2007-11-02T08:09:00.000-05:00

credits here
I love [ksharonkdesigns] newest kit called all natural. I did a blend on the middle rectangle and wow - during the experimenting process, I got some way cool results and can see this will be a really versatile kit! One blending mode gave me a spectacular black and turquoise!

These are photos from our October trip to Indiana to see My Man's parents. His mom has a ball with her gourds, and I wish I would have taken more 'after' shots of what she does with them.

Here is one disguised as a giant apple.

well, the little guy just informed me that his diaper is wet. Groan... still terrified of the potty, he is. When I tell him he is a big boy and not a baby, he just says, "Mom, I a yiddle boy."

live out loud

2007-10-30T12:06:00.001-05:00

credits here

Mr W. He wondered when I would do another layout of him. He lives life big all the time. He is a clown. He is happy. And screams all the time - like a girl. I remember my brother, Theo, screamed like a girl. I have no clue how he would have screamed otherwise. I've heard enough guys scream to know they still all scream like girls. But especially so when they are boys. But it is fun hearing Mr W 'try' to scream like a boy. It usually sounds like someone growling.

Where do the days go? It's almost November. Tomorrow is our church Reformation Party.We participate in that instead of schlepping around the neighborhood celebrating Halloween and all the goodies and badness it entails. Well, living in rural farm territory, we have no neighborhood. The worse part of the night (aka church party) is that the kids have to dress as non-scary, historical and/or Biblical characters. They want to come as ninja's. They want to come as clowns. They want to come as cartoon characters. I'd like to come as the wicked witch of the west. In black and green. Not gonna happen.

Yawn - it's almost time to hit the sack again. But I have to watch Snoopy aka World War 1 flying ace in his Sopwith Camel fight the Red Baron;

here you go, Theo - remember playing this?

I have to watch Lucy dress as a witch since "A person should always choose a costume which is in direct contrast to her own personality"

Sometimes I hate going to sleep. I have always had extremely vivid dreams. And if I like one, I don’t want to get up. Recalling it as the day passes is like trying to catch an entire stream of water, you can get your hand wet but can’t capture it all. As I go throughout the day, I can remember less and less of the dreams. There is a lingering feeling of sadness, triumph, fear, but to totally place my finger on the exact dream is hard. I used to write them down as soon as I got up, but don’t really have time to do that anymore.

Last night I had several dreams. In one of them I could actually play the guitar – really, really well. I didn’t even have to look at my fingers. I tried just now. It was definitely a dream. And in another dream, I could fluently converse in a foreign language. I astounded everyone, but mostly myself. Alas, that dream wasn’t true either. Unless middle-aged get-your-words-turned-around-and-confused counts as a foreign language. I speak that one rather well. So do others I know. Yesterday I was talking to my sister and she said that she would rather sit in her book and read her car instead of going friend shopping with her mall. I would have laughed at her expense; however I knew exactly what she said and what she meant. We both just chalk it up to brains that are thinking at the speed of light and our mouths can’t keep up.

Some dreams are so wonderful, so unbelievably happy. Then BOOM, time to get up and that feeling slowly fades away like a thin sheet of ice melting from the window as the sun hits it. I try to hold on to that feeling, because I have a suspicion it will not be coming back.

mice and ballerinas and bleeding cowboys

2007-10-29T21:14:00.000-05:00

I made this page only because I HAD to use the font called 'bleeding cowboys'. What a cool name! Ok, it is a disgusting name, but a cool font. I suppose the cowboys had been in the saddle too long. Or lasso'd too much. Or been in a bar brawl. Whatever the reason, only the font creator knows and I liked the end result.

credits here

The kids have asked me if I like this or that cartoon character and quite frankly, I don't sit down to watch much current shows so I am clueless as how to answer. They have me hooked on Avatar, Kappa Mikey and Sponge Bob, but we watch them on dvd. Therefore, I talk about the cartoons I watched when I was a child and they laugh at me. And they laugh at me even more when we watch my toons on dvd. "What terrible graphics!" they proclaim.

What can I say; I was easily amused when I was a kid. I had a lot of imagination. They were awesome and blow their Saturday morning viewing out of the water.

That being said, I scrapped mighty mouse today using [ksharonkdesigns] blog freebie quick page. When I got this quick page out to use, I couldn't find any great photos of the kids and didn't want to bribe them to smile for me. I needed saved and who better than Mighty Mouse himself.

credits here

Here he comes to save the day...

but he'll find me in bed. and he'll have to avoid the cats. and lucy. so he just as well stay away for a bit longer.

learning something new

2007-10-28T15:36:00.001-05:00

PSPX - Turning Things into Circles

(Originally from Christine Smith’s tutorial for ps users but I altered it for pspx users since we do things a bit differently with our program.)

Here's a quick tip/super-mini tutorial for taking something straight and making it into a circle. This works on ribbons, stitching, papers and text really well. This works in my pspx program.

Change the canvas size (not the document size) so that it is square - in other words, make the height match the width
Open your long ribbon on a new layer
Make the ribbon twice as tall (pick tool and change scale y to twice the height as the ribbon) - failure to do this step will result in an item that is half as thick as your original after you turn it into a circle. Also make sure your ribbon is off the page a bit so that you don’t have a gap in the end result.
Run the polar coordinates filter on it - effects>distortion effects->polar coordinates; select "rectangle to polar" select edge mode transparent and hit OK

Warning: this takes a bit of RAM so you may not be able to handle large files if you don't have enough memory.

You can ALSO do this to make text in a circle. It's the same as above except:

Make sure the text goes all the way across your canvas
Rasterize the text after typing it in
Rotate it 180 degrees when you change the height (turn it upside down).
For doodle fonts, I had to stretch mine triple to quadruple the height.

When you do this, note that your final circle will be about half the size of your straight item.

Go thank Christine for this handy tip!

Yes, I know my circles are askew... I have to go help the boys get their room switched to the basement. I could say that I have to fix my circles first, but I don't think anyone here thinks it is that important.

glorious

2007-10-25T20:11:00.000-05:00

this fall has been absolutely the most visually glorious fall I have ever experienced. And last night the sky looked like some of the paintings I saw at the Rembrandt exhibit. The sunset was awesome and purples, yellows, oranges, grays, blues were spinning all around with pieces of sunlight peeking through clouds.

playing around

2007-10-24T10:14:00.000-05:00

I've been playing with my food again. I brought the kids home, we all hit the kitchen for snacks and mine usually has to do with chocolate. This time it was melted chips and marshmellows. I stuck the marshmellow into the chocolate and out came this fashionable lady. The Elvis one and others weren't photo-worthy - the side-burns were awesome, but I messed up on the eyes.

what I do when it is raining here: light candles and grab a book. Ok, that would be in my dreams. I light candles, walk out of the room and find that Mr J is blowing them out. He seems to think I light them JUST to immediately be blown out. After several discussions trying to convince him otherwise, I think we understand each other. Reading books on a day like this would be heaven and since I haven't died yet, it is just an unfulfilled desire. Lighting candles just makes cleaning more fun and the books will have to wait.

And here are the photos from last night that blogger refused to upload.

bling for Miss J that I must borrow sometime.

chili for the first real fallish day we've had. I made plenty so we can have seconds with cornbread this time. YUM.

Ack -- gotta stop the little guys from using my wrapping paper on tubes for sword fights. One of them just asked if they could take all the 'stuff' off the tube.

chill time

2007-10-23T20:47:00.000-05:00

Three spelling lists later, three memory verses, four math worksheets, chili without cornbread (wah!), watching the last mimzy, and all the while working on some BLING for Miss J, here I sit in front of my computer. It has been moved into the main part of the basement so that the two middle boys can move into the room which held my computer. Which of course meant I had to clean the dang thing off.

Aren't you astounded? You can actually see surface of the desk and I'm not so sure that is a good thing: what will become of my life? How many things will slip through my fingers?

The theory behind all this insanity is that the two little boys that are here during the day will not set foot inside the new older boys' room. I think the only way that will happen is if there is a deadbolt on the door. Mr M already knows how to unlock the regular locks by Q-tips, sticks and any sharp pointy object.

All this, of course, made me have to clean something I didn't have on my schedule: my computer desk being just the first of many. Next comes the computer room, then the basement, the closet which houses all my untouched craft supplies, office supplies, patterns, sewing junk, old cards and love notes. Not looking forward to going through all of that. The tread mill has already been moved and undoubtedly to a place where it will totally escape my affections and intentions. It needed a good dusting at any rate.

Then My Man said he would paint the boys room and move the beds down. Then all of their accumulated junk has to follow. All in all, wouldn't it just be easier to let the little guys mess up one bedroom then to do all of this??????? huh?????

Anyway, it took five days (and I trashed four versions of the following layout) before I decided to call it quits on this one. HA! I just tweaked it again!!!

credits here except I missed adding her blog freebie (the ribbon) which you can get by downloading her newsletter. You'll have to scroll down past her magnificently awesome birthday she threw for her 'teen-aged' daughter; be sure to wipe the drool off your keyboard. And when you get to the new items in the store, take a look at the cute new alphabet she had to make just for me. :)

and suddenly there was no time

2007-10-16T22:51:00.000-05:00

on my hands. Full up with spelling, memorizing presidents (anyone have a good jingle for that?), take home folders stuffed with papers to redo, sign, send back algebra. bah. The good news is that I have been able to help Miss J with nearly all of her problems (math problems). The trains going from Pittsburgh in two different directions, she did on her own. The acid solutions in different percentages neither one of us could figure out.

My brain hurts. But I figure that is a good thing. It means I am still thinking.

can you say

2007-10-08T22:31:00.000-05:00

someone has too much time on her hands?

credits: [ksharonkdesigns] meander & faraway kits, kim liddiard feather, lisa carter ribbon.

too much time? not really. I was down here in the computer room doing algebra with Miss J and started to fool around with some photos I just took. I have always wondered what I would look like as an Indian. I supposedly have Pawnee in my blood. Out came paint shop pro and much hilarity. I have never tanned. Even in this photo job, My Man is much tanner than this. All I do is freckle and burn.

Then Miss J and I finished the algebra problems and started to take various online tests. I have been a German Shepherd: No bones, about it, you're a loyal, hard-working German Shepherd. Dedicated and always low-maintenance, people flock to you — they know they can count on you to get any job done, and done well. Easygoing and unpretentious, you don't need constant pampering and reassurance. A genuine, carefree pup, you're a true-blue friend, employee, and partner. I was a English Spaniel at gone2thedogs. At another site I was a Jack Russell Terrier: Accepting in nature, she makes friends easily and is usually the center of attention wherever she goes. Her high energy and upbeat personality make the Jack Russell Terrier a fun-loving part of any family. I gave up when I was also a Saint Bernand.

I ditched these tests only to find that I am this character from Lost.

you're Charlie Pace

So maybe sometimes you make things hard on yourself, but you're always happy to lend a hand when someone needs help. And did we mention how you make us laugh? No matter how difficult things get, you've usually got a joke, smile, and a helping hand. Whether you're on a tropical beach or a spot-lit stage, you've got what it takes to shine!

Not only has the American Indian ancestry not come out very strongly in me, my life has gone to the dogs and I am the dead guy on Lost.

the knights of...

2007-10-02T16:55:00.000-05:00

Just finished watching Monty Python's Holy Grail with Mr D. It is 1AM... And now he knows where his mom gets several sayings he has heard his entire life. The good thing is he really enjoyed it. The bad thing is... I'll be hearing a lot of other sayings I never EVER would repeat in front of my impressionable youngsters. Being a brother, he doesn't have that fear.

only God can make these colors. Wow - I always threaten to stop and photograph the soy bean fields after picking up the kids from school. They always scream NOOOOOOOOOOOO. Today I stopped anyway. In a few days, the combines will be going through here and all the glorious colors of yellow, gold and orange will be gone. I was hoping to get a good photo of the trees in the back turning colors, but I would be pressing my luck, as the field next to this one is already being harvested.

This layout is one of Miss J playing the guitar. Daily, and almost constantly, it is either Miss J, My Man or myself playing it. We really need more than one since we all gotta play! uh. I am going to embarrass myself by admitting I 'may' have way too many digi papers - I did this layout in July and have NO clue who made the paper except the white is from [ksharonkdesigns]'s pretty bella. Nah... there isn't such a thing as too many digi papers, is there?

I finished this beauty last night. Again, photography can't even begin to capture the bling of swarovski crystal. This is a dazzler. The papers are by K Pertiet (carefree winter), brad by Pattie Knox and the scallop by DebF at pickleberrypop.

snoooooze time.

fun with names

2007-09-28T22:12:00.000-05:00

1. YOUR ROCK STAR NAME: (first pet & current car) – Tai Ford (somehow fifteen passenger econoline doesn’t fit well.)

2.YOUR GANGSTA NAME: (fav ice cream flavor, favorite cookie) – French Silk Chocolate Chip

3. YOUR “FLY Guy/Girl” NAME: (first initial of first name, first three letters of your last name) D- Har

4. YOUR DETECTIVE NAME: (favorite color, favorite animal) - Orange Eagle

5. YOUR STAR WARS NAME: (the first 3 letters of your last name, first 2 letters of your first) – Hardo

6. SUPERHERO NAME: (2nd favorite color, favorite drink put “The”) - The Purple Pepsi

7. NASCAR NAME: (the first names of your grandfathers)- Roy Edgar

8. STRIPPER NAME : ( the name of your favorite perfume/cologne, favorite candy) – Midnight Pomegranate Good & Plenty

9.WITNESS PROTECTION NAME: (mother’s & father’s middle names ) – Helen Dane

falling again...

2007-09-28T20:59:00.002-05:00

credits here - used [ksharonkdesigns] way cute blog freebie for this week. pooey - dsp is having server problems so I will amend the credit link later.

2007-09-27T22:26:00.001-05:00

our first parent-teacher conference was today. It was fun to see how our previously-homeschooled children were doing their first five weeks of school.

Mr W (3rd grade) is our ham, the rambunctious child. The first several days at school he spent being himself but quickly found that the other kids in his class didn't quite appreciate his loud and spontaneous personality. He immediately did a 360 and now is a shy and quiet little boy who can barely be heard when he reads.

He also spent the first several days chasing the girls on the playground. That quit after one of them asked him if he wanted a piece of her and told on him. I can imagine his glee in finding out that the world was filled with girls, since he has four brothers. The funny thing is, we didn't even know about the girls in his class until last week, when he got all moon-eyed while dreamily describing a certain Miss P who has a nice face and hair that goes 'just right' around afore-mentioned nice face. We found out today that she is the one he was chasing. Ah well - such is love. One sometimes wants what one can't have. But maybe if one is patient enough, things will turn out all right down the road a bit. Maybe even next week, when he goes to her birthday party. He already picked out two very gaudy necklaces plucked from his sister's stash of costume jewelry.

Miss L (4th grade) is struggling. I wondered how my dyslexic child would do and it has been hard for her. Her teacher admitted she probably should be reading more of the test questions to Miss L and will try to do that in the future - that should help. Cursive is like a foreign language to someone who can barely decipher printed words. I wondered if we should take her out of school, but her teacher assured us that Miss L is progressing by leaps and bounds. She is attentive and puts forth her best effort. She still should be tutored by her dyslexic tutor and we'll try to schedule that back in soon.

Miss L LOVES school and out of all the children, she would be heartbroken to be taken out. She is quite a shy child, but her teacher said that she has dug her heels in, gone right up to other children and unabashedly made herself known. I am amazed that she has been so forthright in this.

Mr P (sixth grade)... ah, Mr P. Quite the nice young man. A GREAT kid. A calming presence to the more active boys in the class. Never gets a math question wrong in class... just on his tests. He rushes through his tests and misses silly things. But that doesn't seem to bother him. After looking at his papers, I more than ever think he needs to wear glasses. He has owned them in the past, but they kept mysteriously disappearing and we just decided that if he wouldn't wear them for reading, it just wasn't worth the expense to keep replacing them. Now, I am hoping that as his teachers point out that they can't read his microscopic penmanship, he will use his glasses. He has fun at school and is enjoying himself.

Miss J (freshman). She got in the car yesterday and proclaimed how much she didn't like school. And that she was flunking ART. How can you flunk art?

We went around to her teachers and the first thing was that most of them did double takes when they looked at me. Was there something in my teeth? No... they kept saying how MUCH Miss J and I look alike. I think we are very different, but since she is gorgeous, I will gladly accept the similarity. The second thing we kept hearing was their shock when learning this was her first year in school. She is doing so very well in all her subjects, very studious, engaging, organized and a sweet girl. She is getting two high b's (science and math), three a's (bible, English and Spanish) and an a+ in art. I am very proud of her. She has been extremely diligent about her homework.

Well, there is the report (especially written for you grandparents and relatives of my children). Is life here better since they are in school? eh... I think the photos of Mr M always getting into things will attest to the realization that until HE is in school, my life will be in perpetual chaos - he is a terrible influence on Mr J who used to be a wonderfully obedient, mild-mannered child.

When I was talking to My Man this morning, we went upstairs to find the blender in the living room with pancake mix all over AND my canon lens taken apart (sniff). And Mr M was running as fast as he could to his bedroom.

He was incredibly proud of his sharpie drawing on the wall this week. Again, the venture was done while I was talking to My Man. Mr M is still extremely satisfied with his artwork. "Look at my hand, Mom!" I think he mistook my look of shock and awe as shock and "ahhhhh". Ok, I admit, I was grinning on the inside - I can't help it.

fall

2007-09-25T23:02:00.000-05:00

as always... totally in love with the colors

The evolution of a hateful layout

2007-09-23T18:26:00.000-05:00

credits: not so blue paper and snuggle freebie for flower doodle by [ksharonkdesigns]; inspired by a layout in Digital Scrapbooking by Deana Wuest.

Today I heard that Marcel Marceau died. It made me think of how much I didn’t like mimes. They are creepy. I saw a lot in high school, since my French teacher loved them. I hated them. She gave us an assignment of being a mime once. I was appalled. I wonder if I feigned illness. You can guess I am not a fan of charades. I do ok, but it is not my favorite game. But mimes… they combine another dislike of mine: clowns. Clowns are supposed to be funny but they are scary. I thought about how I hate these things. I have hated them for a long time. I decided to do a layout of things I hate in 2007. Maybe next year I will love mushrooms, but now, and for decades, I have hated them. I try to eat them, but I don’t like the way they squeak in my teeth. I ate plenty of runny, “dip-in-toast” eggs and I detest them; I lived through a few tornados (one that took out my neighbors barn and skipped over my house) and abhor them.

Anyway… that is how this layout transpired – thinking of all the things I truly disliked incredibly, even though I was taught never to say hate (sorry, M!).

I tried to use [ksharonkdesigns] new kit and blog freebie, but it was too cute for the tone of the layout. And you can see I ‘smirked’ according to Theo (see the tooth?) instead of looking totally disgusted. It's the darn tooth, really, bro! I don’t hate it, though.

Oh, and I am trying to get over my fear and aversion to mimes. I think the Blue Man group is as close as I can get to accepting them, but they include some awesome music with their performance and they only use their eyes and eyebrows for expressions. And they don't paint themselves white. They are just hairless, earless blue men. What is so fearsome about that?

All I can say is I hope Marcel is really dead. I just imagine him lying horizontally, alive and being boxed-in by an invisible coffin. EEK!!!

okok... now I feel petty about some of these things I hate. When I think of how blessed I am living in the US, living the country, in a beautiful house with my seven children, somehow hating the feel of mushrooms against my teeth seems awfully inconsequential in the broad scheme of things...

because the sky is blue

2007-09-22T09:47:00.000-05:00

You know it makes me cry
Because the sky is blue

and summer is over...

I present to you some of my favorite photos of summer.

shadow dancing

tiny bling by God

the line-up

swallowtail #1
swallowtail #2

this goes without saying...

skipperling visitor this year

silver queen

my wizards
my baby's got blue eyes...

miaow

I'm melting!!!!!

we find the defendant, Mr M, guilty as charged...

that ham-i-am, that ham-i-am I do so love that Ham I Am!!!

don't bother me when I have some serious snaping to do...

hot dog

Mummy? I need a little help here...

colors

wizarding

my orange gerbera daisies

just a minute Mom.... I have some boss-kicking to be done... for the twentieth time...

dress up

that isn't Daddy's camera you have, is it?

art

you're kind of going the wrong way

good thing I love boys...

One lucky girl

mine

juggling air

The Owl and the Pussycat

summer bling

the end of one thing

and the start of something new

Love is old, love is new

funnies

2007-09-20T20:11:00.000-05:00

I usually don't post things like this... but I also couldn't forward these because my internet and email don't like each other this week. And since I am having a very bad week, and these made me smile and guffaw*, I was hoping to make my friends smile with me.

* at least until I am sued for copyright infringement...

bask

2007-09-17T22:22:00.000-05:00

Nanci Rowe Janitz Aged Florals (scrapartist)

I have been enthralled with the deep cloudless blue sky that has graced my piece of land these past few weeks. Lucy must like it, too. She gets me from whatever I am currently engaged in, nips at my heels, barks and leads me to the door, where we trot outside, she plops down and I wait. I wait some more and realize she really didn't need to go do it. She simply wanted OUT. Then I look around the gloriousness of creation and decide to give in. I usually grab one of the cushions that my children use for bases, lie down and bask.

I look at the sky. Usually some sort of flying machine or animal appears but recently, not a speck. All is silent. Not even the wicked witch of the west jet trails have been marring it. Just a wondrous blue sky.

My kids followed me out on Saturday. "What are you doing, Mom?" Mr P asked me. He wanted me to throw a football, but this girl can't do that. Never could. I'll just keep on impressing him with my baseball skills and not let him know I am clueless on how to keep the football rotating in a spiral instead of my typical end-over-end toss.

"I am basking," I announced, my hands covering my eyes from the sun's glare. Lucy was at my head, basking as well.

"I know what basking is," Mr P informed me. "It is in my vocabularly list this week. It means to lie out in the sun and let it warm you."

That made me smile. He knew.

But to me it means more than that. It involves emotions. It reaches deep within.

I hope you bask in something soon, very soon. It is good for the soul.

good mourning

2007-09-16T21:49:00.000-05:00

frame by [ksharonk designs]

I love birds... I love watching hawks, falcons, and the lone eagle that used to fly over once in a great while. This morning, as I was blogging away down here, I saw something fly back and forth across my field of vision. I looked up thinking one of my kiddos was outside tossing a ball, but instead, saw feathers falling and an unusual sight. Right outside my window was a hawk with a dove in its talons. The hawk couldn't get any elevation with the dove struggling in its grip. I watched and saw the hawk take off alone, leaving the dove. I waited a bit to see if the hawk would try once more, but it didn't. The dove was still sitting in the grass. I grabbed my camera, climbed out of the window and sat by the poor bird. I took pictures, until the cat came by. My cat is a bird killer. He wouldn't be leaving the bird behind as did the hawk. Fortunately, Hobbes was more interested in rubbing up against me and wanting affection - totally oblivious to the easy dinner several inches away. Enough of my considering the ways of the food chain... I abruptly stood up and the bird flew off, unharmed.

Good thing, or I would have been mourning in the morning over the mourning dove.