Hooked on Blogging

Hayley was right. This blogging is fun (and addictive) and adds an entire new dimension to my life- hooray! Anyway, I will keep it short today (cheers from the crowd) and just tell you all I worked all day on some bloggy text designs. Of course, they are just waiting for your viewing and buying pleasure at my bloggy cafepress shop. I have a few more designs in line, but I must go to bed now... Please tell me which ones you like best!

I do have enough energy to tell you all how I was looking for my big, blue glass bowl today to make the pasta. Couldn't find it. Was gazing out the window and I saw it outside, up the hill on the stone bench. Upon further inspection- it was full of muddy water and tadpoles. This is work by the same artist as jawbone in the laundry. I did put the tadpoles back in the pond before making dinner.

Confessions

1) I am getting grey highlights in my hair. Isn't silver the new blond?

2) I found THE sewing machine manual, 4 days after I paid $20 to order a new one, in a box of Easter decorations. This is exceptionally ironic because not only was it in the Easter decorations box instead of the sewing box, but I did not get the decorations out until the day before Easter. Extreme procrastination and disorganization= $20.

3) My friend Jan was brave enough to thread my machine once I unearthed the manual. Thank you Jan. Thus, I have forgiven her for bringing each of my kids a large chocolate easter bunny. Off with their ears! Note: only 2 ear less bunnies. One is MIA, either in a tummy or under a bed..... a worry for another time.



Notice Jan is smiling while touching a sewing machine manual. It can be done.





4) We just went on a fabulous ski vacation. I forgot my digital camera. I found a disposable camera. Disposable one got soaked in the backpack when the water bottle leaked. I think Murphy is getting his laws in my paws.

5) I have convinced myself that my mid-day snack of roasted almonds and chocolate chips is a serving of fiber and anti-oxidants.

OK, enough confessing already. I am signing off with a picture just for Mamageek. This was what my 6 year old tried to smuggle into the car on our recent ski trip. The obsession never ends..........It must have weighed 20 pounds. I am thinking Matchbox 200? Note: I tripped over this suitcase when we got home today. Dear son could not get this heavy suitcase back up the stairs. Murphy- please move out!

This is the Enemy

Alright. I know it is just a sewing machine. I have been thinking of a project (a secret, will tell ya later) and it involves sewing. The last time I used this machine was in 2001. I needed the help of our babysitter to get it set up. I remember the manual saying "put the bobbin in...." Well, they neglected to show what the heck the bobbin looked like, and I guess they didn't anticipate a complete newbie. So, with help of babysitter, and some blood, sweat and tears, I made some curtains for dear baby #2. Of course they are in the attic now- too babyish for big boy. And today, the babysitter is long gone too. And so apparently is the instruction manual. (As a side note: the three Venuses statue mysteriously gets turned around all the time. Not sure if the boys or dear husband dislike the nude front view or if they do like the back view.)
I got everything out of the sewing box in the attic. Note lack of manual. Note big white plastic thing- no idea what that is. Note sewing box. Did I pick that out? Because it is ugly.


OK, let's take everything out of the box:







I got my hopes up with those folded papers. Maybe the manual. Nope- just blank folded papers. Why do you need folded papers to sew? Found a little box that had directions inside. It is a metal "patchwork foot" and directions for the "patchwork foot." I must have burned the manual after the bobbin incident. This is all very interesting. Apparently you need several white and blue pencils, tiny screwdrivers, tiny oil and a tiny magnifying glass to sew. I am quite impressed with my pin cushion and the fact that it can't be lost, as it is attached by 1,000 pieces of thread to the 1,000 spools in the sewing box. I found out what a bobbin is, because I found a package that says "bobbins." But no manual. Had to go online to order one. It will take a week or so to arrive. Pull out this book:


Published in 1957.
Either:
A) my mother gave me this book and I forgot because I have CRS
B) I bought this book at a used book store and can't remember because I have CRS
C) a sweet little old lady patient of mine gave it to me years ago along with the New York Times Cookbook. I know she gave me the cookbook, at least. Probably because either my lack of homemaking skills were evident just looking at me, or I talked about the lack thereof sometime during her appointments.
Probably C. I tend to blab.

So looking at the book, I was trying to remember why I semi-loathe sewing. Remember, I have CRS. Random thought process: I made a dish towel for my sewing badge. That was relatively painless, although the other girl scouts made all kinds of stuff: aprons, doll clothes, ponchos. (It was the 70's.) I took Shop instead of Home Ec in junior high. My mom sewed a lot. Hmmm..... not sure. But then I opened up the book, thinking I should brush up on the basics before the manual arrives. The following are excerpts from the first page:

When you sew, make yourself as attractive as possible. Go through a beauty ritual of orderliness. Have on a clean dress. Be sure your hands are clean, fingernails smooth- a nail file and pumice will help. Always avoid hangnails. Keep a little bag of French chalk near your sewing machine where you can pick it up and dust your fingers at intervals....Have your hair in order, powder and lipstick put on with care. Looking attractive is a very important part of sewing, because if you are making something for yourself, you will try it on at intervals in front of your mirror, and you can hope for better results when you look your best.
Again, sewing must be approached with the idea that you are going to enjoy it, and if you are constantly fearful that a visitor will drop in or your husband come home and you will not look neatly put together, you will not enjoy your sewing as you should. Therefore "spruce up" at the beginning so that you are free to enjoy every part of any sewing you do.

OK I slam shut the book. I know it is not 1957, thank god, but this mentality carried over a little for me. I was a tomboy/feminist/career girl. Now I am ready to embrace all things domestic. Besides, it could be my ticket to fame and fortune, otherwise known as secret mission. But these days I don't have a clean dress. I am not hang-nail-free. Don't even talk to me about lipstick and powder.

But how cool would it be to be able to sew all kinds of stuff?? I would love to hear from people that enjoy sewing, but please don't tell me it is easy. I still have a long learning-curve ahead. And I will let you know how my secret sewing project goes.

In conclusion, I photographed Wilbur, just after he completed his tendu. Sorry folks, couldn't get the camera fast enough to catch the actual act, but that is probably a good thing.


Thanks for listening good people!

One Fine Day: Tracy Arm Fjord, Alaska

Off to Seattle

Seattle is a great place. I should know, as I have been there 6 times in the past year. Tonight is trip number seven. Oh what a glamorous life I lead. Fooled you! I am going up there to participate in a cancer vaccine clinical trial. My glamorous day entails waking up at 2 am, driving 3 hours to the airport, flying to Seattle, catching a shuttle to the hospital where I donate a boat-load of blood, and some pieces of skin that I apparently don't need. Then I catch the shuttle back to the airport and make my way home. On the plane, I get to wear one of those fashionable old-lady arm girdles. So my arm doesn't look like the elephant man for the rest of my life.

Am I sounding bitter? Well crap, I was only 38 when this diagnosis hit me out of the blue. It has been a long 2.5 years. Literally every month, I find out people I know (online) are on their deathbed from this disease. I do get a little bitter about it. So my Cancerspeaks Store is a little funny and a little bitter- just like me. This design is me at my most pissed, cause it ain't pretty and it ain't pink:

But this is my last venture up to Seattle. This vaccine, for very aggressive and "advanced" cancers, may have saved my life. All of the people involved with the study are fabulous. And they could not be nicer, except for all those needles-LOL.

And I am fine. All tests are clear. All surgery done. All herceptin done. Oncologist said "I don't think it is coming back Marge." I want him to sign a t-shirt or something! For the first time in over 2 years I had to cut a fingernail instead of watching it peel away. My hair is still Kramertized, patience my dear, patience.

I am moving on (just this last little pit stop in cancerland) and I have even started a beautiful henna-looking tattoo on my 24" abdominal scar. See breast reconstruction site if you are wondering why my abdomen is affected. My once "hide that damn scar at all costs" is now a work of art. I love it! In a few months I will post a picture. I go in once a month for a session. It is about half outlined so far.
Now for the good news. Dear husband and I decided to make this last trip special. So...... my sisters are both coming down to stay with the kids (good luck to them! :) and hubby is flying up with me. We are staying the weekend together. We are going to do all kinds of grownup stuff (get your mind out of the gutter-LOL) : eat at nice restaurants, go see a Supersonics game, museums, read the paper (and some other grown up stuff) in bed.

I might have to bark an order at somebody. Just so I don't get homesick. My sisters spoil the kids rotten- so they are excited for the weekend too.
Catch up will you all next week- have a great one!

WORDLESS WEDNESDAY

A jaw bone I washed in the laundry. Crayons, rocks and marbles I expect.... keeping me on my toes these kids. I may have to rethink buying all those cargo pants. I am not hot on this kind of cargo. And I can't check all 10 pockets in those durn pants!

A Poem

Mom, You Are Meaner Than You Think You Are

"Mom, you are meaner than you think you are!"
screamed my beautiful four-year-old daughter,
seemingly out of the blue.

Maybe it was the outfit I wouldn't buy (hideous)
Or more probably,
Turning down cupcake number two.

Maybe it was all the scolding
About taking off sand-loaded shoes.
In the house, the car, the dance studio,
So much sand does this little girl ooze.

Maybe it was beyond sassy attitude,
or craved i pod and pierced ears.
So many things that wouldn't fly.
Or the rush for makeup, nail polish, cell phone.
So many things I am not ready to buy.

Maybe she knows I am wishing she won't grow up just yet,
That will have to wait a least a year or two.
So to my four-year-old daughter I said,
"Come hug the mean, old mother of you."

Some Questions I Have

1) Is Girl Scout Cookie season over yet? I hope so crunch, crunch.

2) Does anyone else have a gas tank that keeps moving to the other side of their car? That is pretty annoying.

3)What the hell is a super delegate? Are they getting swag?

4) Why does my cat prefer dog food and my dog prefer cat food?

5) Why do I wonder why my daughters room looks like this:

when my visiting parents see her room, they both say it reminds them of when I was little?

6)Are little boys allergic to pairs of socks?

7) Why have I been at the age where all the clothes for women look too young or too old? And I have been at this stage for YEARS?

8) How long does it take to properly train a husband?

9) How many cool people am I going to meet blogging? So many funny blogs, so little time.

10) I forgot my last question. Must have that stay-at-home-momheimers that someone was telling me about. Who was that again?

WORDLESS WEDNESDAY

A Morning in the Life

6:20 am
Dear 9 year old son at my bedside "Mom, where are some boxes? I am putting all my favorite movies together and I need a box this big." Stretches his hands out.

Me (half asleep): "Huh?"

6:40 am
Click! Dear 9 year old son is back. "Mom, don't move. I am trying to take a picture of the cat."

Me (in denial): "Why don't you get ready for school?"

Dear Son: "WHAT??!!! I thought it was Saturday. This is the worst day of my life!"

7:30 am

In kitchen. 9 year old dear son seems to have recovered from the worst day in his life:

"Mom, you know why I like you? You are smart and you have lots of great ideas."

Husband: "What about me son? I am pretty smart too."

Dear Son: "Well, you are kinda smart Dad. You just don't like to show it."

7:45 am

Dear 4 year old daughter shows up for breakfast. She had been a little nervous about having a new babysitter the previous night.

Me: "So, how did it go with the new sitter last night?"

Dear Daughter:"Oh, it was great mom. She was no trouble at all."

7:50 am

Dear 6 yo son sits up to eat breakfast: "What? I have to eat pancakes? This is the worst day of my life!" A few seconds later... "Mom, I need a strip of carpet."

Me: "Huh?"

Dear Son shows me his science book he checked out at the library and it indeed says "strip of carpet" for an experiment in friction and velocity.

Mutter to myself : "I guess I need to put crawl around in attic and find the extra pieces of carpet on my list."

8:00 am

Dear Daughter comes down dressed for school: red and black plaid dress, purple cheetah coat with belt, brown and white tights, pink glitter ballet flats and hot pink suede pageboy hat.

8:10 am

Husband: "Well, we're off. Have a great day honey."

Me: "Huh?"