tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73970756713541393702024-02-19T10:19:12.751-06:00Whimsy & DelightUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger100125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397075671354139370.post-78075378899774612172009-02-17T14:20:00.002-06:002009-02-17T14:24:10.458-06:00It's Been FunTiming is everything in life, and for now, blogging just doesn't fit into my schedule. The Cheez Doodle has got her "wheels" and it's all I can do to try and stay two steps ahead of her. Thank you all for stopping by and for your encouraging comments and friendship. I do know that I will be back in the mix at some point, but for now, this blog is closed. xo KimlaUnknownnoreply@blogger.com39tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397075671354139370.post-64602338548290576952009-01-31T20:14:00.004-06:002009-01-31T20:27:40.351-06:00Things That Made Me Smile Today<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3400/3243032630_3fa3ff8080.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3400/3243032630_3fa3ff8080.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>An old loving cup. A bird made from tree bark.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3262/3242204165_0e5c6ee9be.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3262/3242204165_0e5c6ee9be.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Ribbons and trims.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3357/3242202993_043bc3fa2e.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3357/3242202993_043bc3fa2e.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>A treasured piece of art.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3101/3243039788_1891214791.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3101/3243039788_1891214791.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Nubby fabrics.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3326/3243038410_7f49533f83.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3326/3243038410_7f49533f83.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3536/3242205689_d7ce531398.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3536/3242205689_d7ce531398.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>And always the Peanut Patty.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3309/3242200221_7ec3164a1d.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3309/3242200221_7ec3164a1d.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397075671354139370.post-89465091729811362922009-01-12T13:34:00.009-06:002009-01-12T20:43:53.364-06:00Home Tour<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3117/3190991835_8bc7a50a16.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3117/3190991835_8bc7a50a16.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Nope, not mine. (I didn't think you would want to see piles of cardboard boxes and a bare cement floor.) My lovely sister however bought and completely remodeled a house a year and a half ago; and, I was finally able to visit her and see it over the holidays. This house is really something special, exquisitely beautiful filled with antiques, religious art, gorgeous lighting, and palatial interiors. I wanted to share some photos with you.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3426/3191944961_0ccd0b9173.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3426/3191944961_0ccd0b9173.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3113/3191012699_756da78052.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3113/3191012699_756da78052.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Take a look at these carved cherubs in the frame. Amazing.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3442/3191014327_2b053793e6.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3442/3191014327_2b053793e6.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3113/3192793388_8495a2e134.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3113/3192793388_8495a2e134.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>This mirror was bought new and then distressed with acid to look old.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3120/3191957161_96f8355993.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3120/3191957161_96f8355993.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3393/3191011271_cd1ca8fd20.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3393/3191011271_cd1ca8fd20.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>This fossil is incredible!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3348/3192798834_6d83b8f4a4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3348/3192798834_6d83b8f4a4.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>More religious art.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3116/3191857366_fb5fe84ee6.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3116/3191857366_fb5fe84ee6.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3134/3191866262_285de2e373.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3134/3191866262_285de2e373.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3444/3191955905_aa5eeab6c8.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3444/3191955905_aa5eeab6c8.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>The cozy kitchen.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3532/3192805914_f107b84611.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3532/3192805914_f107b84611.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Another antique chandelier: the bulbs actually move and flicker with the wind. So cool.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3452/3191867656_2cc919e2b1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3452/3191867656_2cc919e2b1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Here is a pic of my sweet sistah!!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3329/3191863624_34169f0871.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3329/3191863624_34169f0871.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>This is a view of the grand salon, looking into the courtyard.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3337/3191008459_4368102e70.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3337/3191008459_4368102e70.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3529/3193226186_0a4e736987.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3529/3193226186_0a4e736987.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3119/3192797512_b49b28af86.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3119/3192797512_b49b28af86.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Her home office.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3534/3191000533_95b43caac4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3534/3191000533_95b43caac4.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3104/3192800652_40c9ae4983.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3104/3192800652_40c9ae4983.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Her study houses her collection of antique tins. She found Lady Liberty, whose torch actually lights up, at a junk store.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3467/3191006735_8e3102e98c.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3467/3191006735_8e3102e98c.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Vintage taxidermy for a bit of quirk.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3265/3191002101_323faf2e88.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3265/3191002101_323faf2e88.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3324/3191851196_3431b2c67a.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3324/3191851196_3431b2c67a.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3315/3191852786_548e8e07cb.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3315/3191852786_548e8e07cb.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Saint Rose watches over the home.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3346/3191842282_852685cbf0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3346/3191842282_852685cbf0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>The chandelier in the master bedroom.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3414/3192794762_8001192e0f.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3414/3192794762_8001192e0f.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Girandolas around the bath.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3268/3193227440_d79a2b30e7.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3268/3193227440_d79a2b30e7.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>The guest bath is completely decked out in religious art and vintage church decor.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3386/3192807270_37d6032b25.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3386/3192807270_37d6032b25.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3483/3191843832_8697e133d5.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3483/3191843832_8697e133d5.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3517/3190997437_d46cbfc788.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3517/3190997437_d46cbfc788.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3404/3190998931_1fcd307f20.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3404/3190998931_1fcd307f20.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>A cool ornament made by one of her artist friends.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3450/3191840946_d008327a5f.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3450/3191840946_d008327a5f.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Well, I hope you enjoyed the tour. I always like to get a peek at other people's homes, how they decorate, how they live. Now for me, it's back to unpacking. Of all things, we cannot find the baby monitor so my husband and I are taking turns sleeping in the baby's room. Ay Carumba!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3324/3192382857_a4a4cc2fc6.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3324/3192382857_a4a4cc2fc6.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397075671354139370.post-89113624807347322672008-12-18T10:11:00.003-06:002008-12-19T09:10:58.677-06:00Reindeer Winners<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2001/2071812386_82a1a76d31.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 349px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2001/2071812386_82a1a76d31.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Thank you all for playing and for your comments. Caryn, <a href="http://artsymama.blogspot.com/">Kari</a>, and <a href="http://valitas.blogspot.com/">Valita</a> - please send me an email lickety split and I'll get your reindeer off to you today. Merry Christmas all. This may be my last post until 2009. We actually have movers coming this Saturday. Yea!!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397075671354139370.post-84723722397612085402008-12-16T18:00:00.007-06:002008-12-16T19:35:51.656-06:00She Sold Bears???!!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3076/3113755235_15c6375a5c.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3076/3113755235_15c6375a5c.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>I'm always fascinated with the various jobs and careers people have had. It's fascinating how life, opportunity, and circumstances take us from one interest and direction to another, sometimes very far from where we thought we would end up. In college, I changed my major five times before finally settling on psychology, probably because I had just run out of ideas and didn't want to take ten years to graduate. These are some of the jobs I have had in the past:<br /><ul><li>Customer service representative at a bank</li><li>Substitute teacher</li><li>Educational Diagnostician<br /></li><li>Psychotherapist</li><li>Jury Consultant</li><li>School Counselor</li><li>College Instructor</li><li>Entrepreneur</li></ul>Entrepreneur? Hmmm....what exactly were you doing, you ask. Well, I find it strange to tell you this, but several years ago, I had a bear business. Yes, wild but true. I bought a stuff-your-own-teddy-bear franchise (like Build-A-Bear but these bears were much cuter in my opinion), hired a few teenagers, and set up shop in a mall. Now I didn't fantasize about selling bears as a youth, and I certainly didn't go to school for all those years to sell bears, but there I was. A little history. Four years prior to the bear phase I was working in the fast-paced, crazy intense world of litigation and trial consulting. It was an incredible adventure and experience, filled with glamour, intelligent attorneys, first class travel, exciting research, and even meeting a few celebrities along the way. It was also an insanely toxic work environment filled with long hours (80 to 100 hour workweeks), spending three months away from home living in a hotel room for a trial, running constantly on pure adrenaline, and trying to please (and avoid) two ego-maniacal bosses, one of whom now has his own talk show. So it's really no surprise that my impulsive decision to buy a bear business was a karmic attempt to get as far away from the world of conflict, greed, animosity, manipulation, and screaming bosses as I could get. Alas, my foray into retail didn't last very long. Retail, at least in the middle of the mall, I quickly found was not for me. (I've got a <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Holidays-Ice-David-Sedaris/dp/0316035904/ref=pd_bbs_sr_5?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1229477668&sr=8-5">Dave Sedaris</a>-esque short story in there somewhere.) But, I did walk away from the experience with a few life lessons, along with a herd of bears. So, please, won't you give one of these reindeer a home? Just leave a comment and I'll draw three names Thursday morning. <span style="font-style: italic;">(Reindeer have not been handled or played with, are stuffed with 100% polyester filling and a red felt heart. Not for children under the age of three. Bells could be a choking hazard. Prefers oats and barley but will also eat cat food if you have it.)</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3098/3113752391_8e49942bb8.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3098/3113752391_8e49942bb8.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397075671354139370.post-83797851229783396352008-12-15T21:18:00.003-06:002008-12-15T22:04:08.139-06:00Rome Wasn't Built In A Day<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3007/3112457922_c0373c8c39.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3007/3112457922_c0373c8c39.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>And our house wasn't remodeled in six months. Whew! Honestly, some days I just want to fall in a heap and cry, but I remember what my friend <a href="http://roseyposeyconfections.blogspot.com/">Cheryl</a> says, "Just do the next thing." So that's what we do. For those of you who have been down the home repair road, I know you can feel our pain. Remodeling and moving are just plain stressful, even if the move is only 20 miles or so up the road. Instead of ripping off the band-aid in one fell swoop, we've been moving a car load here and a SUV load there, here a box, there a box, everywhere a box, box. Kinda makes a girl insane. And it's not like we're moving into a cool 200-year-old farmhouse or something. It's just a house. Eight or nine years old, but really uncared for and unloved for lots and lots of years. Jim has been doing 99% of the work himself, after he leaves his day job so, you know...time marches on. But, we're close and hopefully will be toasting the new year in our new, work-in-progress home.<br />Even though we'll be skipping the hardcore Christmas decorations this year, I was delighted when I packed (unpacked? can't remember) these vintage stockings. I've never seen one with two dogs and Frosty before. Sequins just make me happy. I know you know.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3292/3111630651_ba464d5d19.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3292/3111630651_ba464d5d19.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Frosty's holding a miniature lantern.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3266/3112466156_f79b21228b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3266/3112466156_f79b21228b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Two dogs...unless they are supposed to be reindeer.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3171/3112469432_fed32647b7.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3171/3112469432_fed32647b7.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Silver and pink bells for, I imagine, some lucky little girl.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3119/3111640323_9c496aa241.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3119/3111640323_9c496aa241.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3179/3112475910_36b0b68afd.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3179/3112475910_36b0b68afd.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>When I was home (my parent's house) for Thanksgiving, my mom dug up some of my old baby dolls that somehow, miraculously, survived a horrific flood that pretty much wiped out all of their belongings a few years back. The one on the left is a Madame Alexander and the one on the right was handmade by someone in Houston. Of course, you might recognize the one in the middle. She kind of looks like the Pillsbury Dough boy. We are having so much fun with her. I don't even need Christmas decorations this year. Having the Peanut Patty makes this the best Christmas ever. Here's wishing the same to you! Please stop by soon for a mini Christmas give-away. Fa la la la la.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3058/3112455242_96eb3a0e3e.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3058/3112455242_96eb3a0e3e.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397075671354139370.post-66627142257512231792008-12-08T17:11:00.006-06:002008-12-09T20:45:18.855-06:00So Far, So Good"Look at me. Over here, Amelie. Look at me. Right here, sweetie. Keep looking at mommy."<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3289/3093316199_996d34d1e1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 334px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3289/3093316199_996d34d1e1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>DOH!!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3089/3093318503_6073bccefc.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 334px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3089/3093318503_6073bccefc.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397075671354139370.post-85036338529171910742008-12-08T12:59:00.012-06:002008-12-08T16:13:12.592-06:00Red Shed Holiday Party<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3091/3093545750_691df67640.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3091/3093545750_691df67640.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>I recently posted about one of my fave local shops <a href="http://kimlakay.blogspot.com/2008/11/red-shed-saturdays.html">here</a>. Well, the Red Shed girls, Michelle, Valarie, and Michelle, have done it again. They hosted a Christmas Soiree last Friday evening that was warm, inviting, and filled with inspiration.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3058/3093509304_b5b4251759.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3058/3093509304_b5b4251759.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3118/3092670683_e2a0c16aa4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3118/3092670683_e2a0c16aa4.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3285/3093514706_f36b346328.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3285/3093514706_f36b346328.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>This vintage white cupboard went home with a happy customer.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3015/3092675563_8545e7e3c9.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3015/3092675563_8545e7e3c9.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Do you see that cute girl in the doorway? That's <a href="http://sweetfinds.typepad.com/">Joanna Lewis</a>, a fellow Bella. It was such a bonus to meet her so serendepitiously. I had seen her name on other blogs before, but we had never met until tonight. I see from her blog that she has a booth at an antique mall. Hmmm...I think I see a road trip in my future.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3021/3092678367_61d98d38ae.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3021/3092678367_61d98d38ae.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3092/3093589816_a999f76a84.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3092/3093589816_a999f76a84.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Look at this old Bingo spinner (?) filled with old baseballs.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3111/3093525562_c1e101989a.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3111/3093525562_c1e101989a.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3159/3092680917_2920200e27.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3159/3092680917_2920200e27.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3021/3093529428_792a2c351f.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3021/3093529428_792a2c351f.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />You never know what you may find at The Red Shed, as the trio picks up vintage goods and good junk as they travel the globe. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3104/3092691225_74f2f202f2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3104/3092691225_74f2f202f2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3231/3092694647_2ed78753f0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3231/3092694647_2ed78753f0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3074/3093548390_3bcbb814f9.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3074/3093548390_3bcbb814f9.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Love the old cut velvet material on those couch cushions!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3132/3092697349_a7b191fe07.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3132/3092697349_a7b191fe07.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3277/3092722943_00b0eb17ea.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3277/3092722943_00b0eb17ea.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Here's beautiful Michelle holding the peanut patty. (Thank you, Michelle for holding the doodle while I shopped.)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3176/3093566414_d7ed826454.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3176/3093566414_d7ed826454.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />This vintage sled also went to a good home.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3060/3092712273_a26518dd3a.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3060/3092712273_a26518dd3a.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3061/3092717615_433e49e4d4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3061/3092717615_433e49e4d4.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Oh, how fun it would be to decorate with these angel wings, but alas, they were not for sale.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3211/3093556254_70df36f65a.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3211/3093556254_70df36f65a.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3207/3092720215_43f5407b7c.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3207/3092720215_43f5407b7c.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />It was a great party. Be sure to check out the <a href="http://www.redshedonline.com/home.html">Red Shed</a> and visit their blog <a href="http://redshedantiques.blogspot.com/">here</a>.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3098/3092709949_4ff229484e.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3098/3092709949_4ff229484e.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397075671354139370.post-59968313466143779862008-11-05T22:43:00.005-06:002008-11-20T14:42:16.680-06:00Holly's Fab Marie Tiara<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3056/3003484465_14558203d2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3056/3003484465_14558203d2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Like so many, I've always been a huge admirer of <a href="http://www.hollydoodledesigns.com/shop/">Holly</a>. Her artistry and talents are inspirational. Everything she does - her blog, her photographs, her artwork, her Marie collaborative (ooh la la!), her flea market finds, even the way she decorates her home just brings a bright spot to my day. I am so grateful that Holly had time to create one of her signature crowns for me. The Marie Tiara will have a prominent spot in our new home (nope, we're still not moved in). I love it so much and could not have been more pleased.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3054/3004299714_511a5a7141.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3054/3004299714_511a5a7141.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Oh, the splendor and decadence! Every inch is filled with rich detail and texture.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3230/3003479347_2c6ec803f0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3230/3003479347_2c6ec803f0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3237/3003467101_7d42bc229c.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3237/3003467101_7d42bc229c.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Check out the sparkle on those stars.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3007/3003470525_a1b9062e29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3007/3003470525_a1b9062e29.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3178/3003482049_928e3a1959.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3178/3003482049_928e3a1959.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>The Marie head came from <a href="http://www.dollsandlace.com/index.htm">here</a>. Wish I would have bought more at the time.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3025/3004312064_7b2b6bb842.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3025/3004312064_7b2b6bb842.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3059/3004309110_e826da5c72.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3059/3004309110_e826da5c72.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3001/3003462001_4ca9e1ac86.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3001/3003462001_4ca9e1ac86.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Happy Day, Everyone.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3275/3004294628_7f1d25aecf.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3275/3004294628_7f1d25aecf.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397075671354139370.post-68472664743106510472008-11-05T16:03:00.006-06:002008-11-09T20:26:32.094-06:00I Need This<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3165/3016764717_e4cdda2b4f.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3165/3016764717_e4cdda2b4f.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>like I need a hole in my head. This is what happens when a girl stays out of Michaels and Hobby Lobby for an entire season. Her eyes go a little swirly when she sees the new Martha Stewart line and this gorgeous scrapbooking paper. Now, of course, it's not nearly as glamorous as the gorgeous real stuff that <a href="http://undertheredroof.typepad.com/under_the_red_roof/">Donna</a> finds and so graciously shares with us <a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5149702">here</a>. But, it's plentiful and cheap, and well, flocked paper of any sort is just fuzzy goodness I can't resist. I know you know.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3143/3017600074_27e4a64424.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 381px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3143/3017600074_27e4a64424.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>I sure wish I could join all you Bellas in Omaha soon. I'll be there in spirit and will look forward to visiting all of your blogs and seeing all the gorgeous scenery. Prom night is going to be such an eye candy confection. I cannot wait to see all the photos and hear all about it.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3020/3017592388_4407996c79.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3020/3017592388_4407996c79.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>I've really been enjoying the prize ribbons that <a href="http://velvetstrawberries.typepad.com/">Andrea</a> and <a href="http://www.cottagebytheriver.typepad.com/">Bristol</a> have in their shoppes. These two girls are so sweet and have the most beautiful things. Horse ribbons are so fun. (Check out the pink one that Bristol altered for the Doodle!) I find there are so many ways to decorate with them. Last year, we put them on our Christmas tree, instead of ornaments, and it looked amazing. Hope everyone has a happy week.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3283/3016758105_0488af4eac.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3283/3016758105_0488af4eac.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397075671354139370.post-7902713487646584872008-11-03T13:55:00.005-06:002008-11-05T18:31:28.457-06:00A Book Giveaway<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3058/2984703899_85b9921471.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 407px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3058/2984703899_85b9921471.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>I've just finished skimming this book and would love to pass it along to someone who is interested in reading it. It's a great book with lots of photos, exercises and stories. First one to leave a comment, it's yours. <br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Congrats, Crystal! You won.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397075671354139370.post-1371658203297629872008-11-03T13:51:00.008-06:002008-11-05T18:32:40.064-06:00Red Shed Saturdays<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3003/2985540508_8f498c069b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3003/2985540508_8f498c069b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>I've been meaning to blog about the fabulous <a href="http://www.redshedonline.com/home.html">Red Shed</a> girls for some time now. One post won't do them justice, but here goes. Located in Grapevine, TX, The Red Shed is a junker's delight. Partners <a href="http://www.redshedonline.com/page/page/3879815.htm">Valarie Jolly, Michele McKechnie, and Michele Jones</a> are the dream team of all things junky, shabby, creative, and cool. Valarie and Michele M. own and operate Riverside Travel. Through their world-wide travels, they have spotted and collected and carted home lots of good junk. Michele J. is an avid antiquer (apparently not a word, but should be, doncha think?) and flight attendant who has a knack for bringing out the beauty and functionality in time-worn items. Together these women are a force of nature. They have combined their talents and not only sell cool, affordable junky-delicious vintage-y goods but also offer ongoing <a href="http://www.redshedonline.com/altered_art_classes.html">art classes</a> as well as yearly junking jaunts to Paris, France and Minneapolis, Minnesota (I'm hoping they'll put Round Top in the mix for next year.) Art and junk and travel. I do believe they have mastered the perfect trifecta.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3171/2985545918_0af05ab98d.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3171/2985545918_0af05ab98d.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>The items you see here are some of the things I nabbed at their latest Saturday outdoor junkfest. On six Saturdays throughout the year, they stage themed vignettes in and around "the shed" and the shoppers turn out with gusto! These vintage blocks have certainly been chewed on and loved by somebody. And these Victorian ladies (I think they were 2 bucks a pop) said they wanted to come home with me.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3059/2985548748_0570a93721.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3059/2985548748_0570a93721.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>My favorite find was this vintage metal Christmas sign.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3138/2984686291_9cb1928a4a.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3138/2984686291_9cb1928a4a.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>This is the wood house collage that was recently made in one of their classes. It was so much fun. The instructors were great. They took us through all the steps and provided laughter and great snacks too. I can't wait to take more classes at the Red Shed. If you are ever in the Dallas area, be sure to check them out. Meanwhile, enjoy reading about their junking tales on their <a href="http://redshedantiques.blogspot.com/">blog</a>.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3229/2985551096_391172f4d8.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3229/2985551096_391172f4d8.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3166/2984696441_c54038845a.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3166/2984696441_c54038845a.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3288/2984698611_87994aba95.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3288/2984698611_87994aba95.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3251/2984701041_2796cca460.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3251/2984701041_2796cca460.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397075671354139370.post-71718300422470362072008-10-20T16:40:00.006-06:002008-10-20T17:57:31.792-06:00A Sweet Surprise<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2035/2959081645_2828a25c01.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2035/2959081645_2828a25c01.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>all the way from Oklahoma, Nebraska, Minnesota, and Australia! I wasn't expecting this. Couldn't have been more surprised or tickled or touched. <a href="http://undertheredroof.typepad.com/">Donna</a>, <a href="http://artsymama.blogspot.com/">Kari</a>, and <a href="http://scrappyjessi.blogspot.com/">Jessi</a> got together and commissioned <a href="http://www.natashaburns.blogspot.com/">Natasha</a> to paint a picture of the darling ballerina dress that <a href="http://kimlakay.blogspot.com/2008/04/what-can-i-say.html">Jessi</a> gifted Amelie with a while back. Take a look at this.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3001/2959086961_3364522dd1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3001/2959086961_3364522dd1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>It's a perfect, whimsical rendition on a happy backsplash of aqua, creme and pink. You guys are just so kind and generous to think of me and the doodle. I was really moved and actually did not open the package for several days. Had to sit with it, soaking in all the good intentions behind it, ya know? Natasha, you are so darn talented! It is such a sweet memento of a magical window of baby time. And how she made this card with the same image on the front, I do not know.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3227/2959931216_ec5aa0a960.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3227/2959931216_ec5aa0a960.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Natasha gifted Amelie with a cuddly chenille bear all dolled up in pink millinery and a blue vintage bauble. It's darling. Thank you so much.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3035/2959100543_086cddc395.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3035/2959100543_086cddc395.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Here are a few more pics.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3147/2959938906_d50ecaf38a.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3147/2959938906_d50ecaf38a.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3072/2959935798_1503d512e2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3072/2959935798_1503d512e2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>And the doodle bug expressing her happiness and gratitude. Thank you girls for this box of sweetness. You guys really made my week.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3277/2959944090_179841be8a.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3277/2959944090_179841be8a.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397075671354139370.post-4754501355952645002008-06-11T14:43:00.002-06:002008-06-11T16:25:41.528-06:00Taking A Nap<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3099/2570545101_6eac5146fd.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3099/2570545101_6eac5146fd.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>This blog is temporarily closed as of June 2008. We hope to be back at the end of the summer, energized and ready to share more snippets of life.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397075671354139370.post-42584315301250169692008-06-08T11:58:00.004-06:002008-06-08T23:25:13.829-06:00My Life...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2404/2561866000_e4e1d3fc61.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2404/2561866000_e4e1d3fc61.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>is about to get a whole lot busier. After looking off and on at houses for the past year, we have finally found one we like and are moving (just up the road a bit) next month. So now my attention has turned to packing and decluttering and staging our current home for (hopefully) a quick sale. Our new home will be a project house. Many, many things to fix and improve. Yes, folks, Jim will be laying more hardwood in the new house. Whew! I'm tired just thinking about it. It's like George Jetson running on the treadmill. That seems to be the state of our lives these days. It's hard to believe that the peanut patty is now 3 months old. She's at that cute, squishy stage.<span style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3262/2561102591_e3a7d118b0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3262/2561102591_e3a7d118b0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>We are having so much fun together. She and I ventured out to a local antique mall the other day and picked up this vintage nightlight for her nursery.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3120/2561037597_6c3f9729eb.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3120/2561037597_6c3f9729eb.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a href="http://scrappyjessi.blogspot.com/">Jessi</a> sent us another surprise package: a darling name plate with scrabble tiles and all kinds of girly, fairyland trinkets. Isn't it just darling?! I love how she painted the stand with blue and pink and the peely effect. Yes, dear Jessi...you most definitely should open an etsy store. Your creations are perfectly wonderful and sweet. Thank you so much for the thoughtful gift. We love it and will treasure it!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3082/2561106099_c4c68e259b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3082/2561106099_c4c68e259b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>I also want to thank all you generous and talented artsy women out there who have visited my humble blog over the past year. Your comments have encouraged me and supported me more than you will ever know. And thank you for sending all of your baby love toward my daughter. Jim and I are soaking in this precious time with her. It's moving by very quickly. In the great pie chart of life, I am now focusing on a different wedge. I know there will be a time when I can focus more on blogging and creating, but for now, I must sign off and focus on getting our family moved and settled in. (Oh dear, our beloved 14 year old cat just lost her upper canine. Time to find a good cat dentist!) I know I will be back at some point. Until then though, be well, be happy, and have a wonderful summer!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3066/2561093759_975fe3a8ea.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3066/2561093759_975fe3a8ea.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397075671354139370.post-74530066488207615072008-05-12T21:49:00.006-06:002008-05-14T14:18:56.252-06:00Squeezin' In Some Crafting<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2396/2487686471_6dc5ccd09c.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2396/2487686471_6dc5ccd09c.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>If you live in a state that had <a href="http://www.recollectionsonline.com/">Recollections</a>, a paper crafting store (much like <a href="http://www.archiversonline.com/">Archiver's</a>) that was a subsidiary of Michaels, you might have been surprised that they closed all their stores earlier this year. There have also been two wildly popular scrapbooking stores in the Dallas area that have sadly closed their doors. What to make of all this? Are we indeed in a recession? Is scrapbooking a fad that's on its way out? Are the WalMarts, Targets and Hobby Lobbys making it difficult for others to compete? Personally, I think that we've all shopped ourselves into satiation. Our craft rooms are bursting at the seams. I know that my quest to purchase the latest and greatest new sparkling supplies has surpassed my need to create. So while I'm sad to see all these wonderful stores close shop, I know that the universe is karmically helping me to "shop" in my own craft room and use my own plethora of supplies. But then...(sigh)...there is the Internet. And <a href="http://www.candicecarpenter.typepad.com/">Candice Carpenter's</a> fabulous new website/shoppe <a href="http://www.peacoatsandpartyhats.com/">Peacoats and Party Hats</a>.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2410/2487679227_aaeb69c40d.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2410/2487679227_aaeb69c40d.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Before I could say "Stop the Madness" my finger double clicked on this cute Birthday banner. Candice is a genius at putting together the cutest craft projects. I love that her kits are relatively simple, i.e. doable, and they don't contain a thousand moving parts.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2390/2487674945_77a8bfb378.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2390/2487674945_77a8bfb378.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2212/2487670661_5aaf5e42f2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2212/2487670661_5aaf5e42f2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2060/2487683349_d773ba06ae.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2060/2487683349_d773ba06ae.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Candice's banner was so much fun to put together and I was easily able to incorporate a few embellishments from my personal stash.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3168/2487946299_6db7fd6e7a.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3168/2487946299_6db7fd6e7a.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Can't wait to decorate with this banner for a certain someone's birthday next year. Hopefully, the MousePie will approve.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2217/2487663945_2afb46f267.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2217/2487663945_2afb46f267.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397075671354139370.post-41330213827930548252008-04-29T15:18:00.007-06:002008-05-01T08:06:22.839-06:00Favorite Childhood Toys<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2268/2453237719_b402225d85.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2268/2453237719_b402225d85.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Thank you <a href="http://scrappyjessi.blogspot.com/">Scrappy Jessi</a> for being our lovely hostess for today's post: Favorite Childhood Toys. I grew up in the 70's and loved all things related to Snoopy and Hello Kitty. I carried a purse that was filled with Snoopy pads and colored pencils and Hello Kitty papers and erasers. Of course, like our hostess, I was a huge fan of Barbie and all her peeps. I had the Farrah Fawcett doll and the Marie Osmond doll along with Barbie, PJ, the obligatory Ken, and a host of others. None of them escaped the scissors, except for Ken who was saved by his plastic molded hair. I also had a love affair with all things miniature: plastic farm animals, Liddle Kiddles, Weebles, and Fisher Price people. I spent hours playing with these tiny Disney characters. As you can see, they are scratched up a bit but I'm so glad that I still have them. (My parents' house and all our belongings burned when I was four years old so I have only a few cherished toys and even fewer childhood photos.) <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2371/2454066034_b3b44e7226_b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2371/2454066034_b3b44e7226_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>As for outside play, I loved my Big Wheel and my red Hippety Hop, but nothing was more exciting than playing in the treehouse or exploring at Grandma's farm or making mudpie pizzas in the street and watching cars run over them. One year, I decided to start my own business - a Shrinky Dink Club. I made Shrinky Dinks all afternoon and then wrote a letter describing what you would get, for a nominal fee, if you joined The Shrinky Dink Club. I was so excited about this idea. Each member would receive new Shrinky Dinks every month. I packaged about ten of these envelopes and then took off on my bike, placing the sacred envelopes in random mailboxes. Oddly, I never received any orders.<br />Oh, and I loved the Upsy Downsy characters shown here. These were kind of related to Liddle Kiddles but more on the funky, psychedelic side.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2280/2453240125_ab0372c678_b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2280/2453240125_ab0372c678_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Probably more than anything though, I loved any kind of imaginary game. My older brother and I engaged in rich imaginative play where our dog, Sniffles, was the General in a make-believe army and we, The Doggies, had to fight off various foes who all had special powers. Before we engaged in our battles, we, the Sniffles Club, convened in the garage. My brother was the President of the club; alas, I was only a mere member. Anyway, the Sniffles Club met on a regular basis and we had secret rituals. For example, before we could begin our battles, we had to sing the opening song, then we conducted our business, then we battled/played, then we sang our closing song. And believe it or not, I can still, to this day, remember the words to those songs. We never told one adult about the Sniffles Club. Ever. Wow. I hope Baby A has as much fun in the magical world of play as I did. So many wonderful memories. Thanks Jessi for taking us down memory lane!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com37tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397075671354139370.post-65332191737052592832008-04-22T20:35:00.009-06:002008-04-24T17:38:08.188-06:00What Can I Say?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3017/2434936251_2939daa6a1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3017/2434936251_2939daa6a1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>I've been hypnotized by an 11-pound peanut patty, which is my excuse for not making a post in so long. Well, that reason coupled with the fact that my life, which is pretty much about baby bliss and mind-numbing sleep deprivation, does not make for the most artfully scintillating fodder these days. I considered blogging about my blocked milk duct (Oh, the adventures of breast feeding!) but decided to spare you guys the ugly truth. Honestly, I've been trying to find my groove in this new life of mine and have been at a loss on what to post about. But, when my mail lady arrived today with this package from one of the sweetest girls in blogland, I knew I had my post.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2349/2439114269_81f7721652.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2349/2439114269_81f7721652.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a href="http://scrappyjessi.blogspot.com/">Jessi</a>, I am speechless. This is such a wonderful surprise...Look at all this pink, yummy goodness.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2402/2439688180_565c9d39e0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2402/2439688180_565c9d39e0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Check this out. Jessi has her own custom tags and buttons. Adorable!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2088/2438866359_267f865054.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2088/2438866359_267f865054.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>She included one of the cutest custom tags from the talented <a href="http://krislhurst.blogspot.com/">Kris Hurst</a>. I can't believe Jessi was willing to part with it...I love the pixie holding her balloons.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2095/2439693302_06214afc8c.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2095/2439693302_06214afc8c.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Oh my goodness! A bling bling princess crown pacifier holder! So fun. So precious. So Jessi.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2096/2438874811_b91e3b26f2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2096/2438874811_b91e3b26f2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>And...oh, I cannot believe this...an adorable black and pink tutu dress. Wow!!! This is so cool. I love it all! <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2126/2438872315_e2266559e3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2126/2438872315_e2266559e3.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>I feel like Jessi is preparing Amelie for Silver Bella. The peanut patty was sleeping while I opened all of these goodies but I couldn't resist dressing her up. She couldn't quite keep her eyes open but I had a ball taking pictures of her. Jessi - you made my week, girlfriend. Thank you for your very generous and thoughtful gifts.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2261/2438884021_1c14767f07.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2261/2438884021_1c14767f07.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397075671354139370.post-90135131664069439272008-04-02T10:37:00.002-06:002008-04-02T12:15:18.710-06:00Things I've Learned As A New Mom<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2018/2383384694_b4e2922b41.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2018/2383384694_b4e2922b41.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Revelation #1: First, we have never experienced a love so powerful, so immediate, and so pure as the love we feel for our baby. Everyday with her feels like Christmas.<br /><br />Revelation #2: Newborns make a lot of different sounds. If you close your eyes, you might think you are in a zoo rather than a nursery. She mews like a kitten, eeks like a dolphin, grunts like a pig, screeches like a monkey, and squeaks like a mouse...all in her sleep.<br /><br />Revelation #3: Husbands (at least mine) can sleep through all of these noises while moms seem to be hardwired to listen and respond to every peep that comes from their sleeping noisemaker.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3264/2383387438_769459a66a.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3264/2383387438_769459a66a.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Revelation #4: Just because a baby has wet and/or pooped in her diaper doesn't mean that she can't wet and/or poop in her diaper again in the next five minutes and then again five minutes after that. (see Revelation #8)<br /><br />Revelation #5: Babies don't smell like baby powder and baby lotion because they're wearing it; Baby powder and baby lotion were made to smell like the natural scent of babies. (Jim's Revelation)<br /><br />Revelation "#6: The purple/black cord thingy makes both mom and dad a bit uneasy. It's been almost a month now and that little booger is still hanging on! Still hoping that Cosmo doesn't eat it like Miranda's cat on Sex In The City.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3296/2382540073_e2cfb5be25.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3296/2382540073_e2cfb5be25.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Revelation #7: When changing out the diaper, it is critical to immediately place a new diaper under the baby's bottom. (see Revelation #8)<br /><br />Revelation #8: In the middle of changing out an explosive poo, note that additional projectile poo can be sprayed at least two feet from said baby's behind. (Yes, folks, I have cleaned bits of poo off our bedroom wall and off the dry-clean-only velvet curtains.)<br /><br />Revelation #9: My embarrassing record of not bathing/washing my hair for five consecutive days (initially set years ago at summer camp where they only had communal showers) has now been broken. Gross, but true.<br /><br />Revelation #10: Must. Sleep. Now.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2312/2382557253_22df88cebe.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2312/2382557253_22df88cebe.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397075671354139370.post-89468062406282443732008-03-10T13:59:00.003-06:002008-03-10T14:10:02.379-06:00Introducing...Amelie Sky August. Born March 4, 2008 at 3:55 PM, 6 pounds and 13 ounces, 18.9 inches long. Here she is!!! I feel like my heart has both melted and expanded with all the love I have for her. Jim and I are completely over the moon. I ended up having a C-section, but am now recovering at home and feeling pretty good. It just doesn't get any better than this. Will post when I can. Right now I'm running on fumes (baby scented) and bonding with the bunny. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3146/2325086946_df2537c76d_b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3146/2325086946_df2537c76d_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3197/2325085028_403c012a7a_b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3197/2325085028_403c012a7a_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2054/2324256389_aac5989cb6_b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2054/2324256389_aac5989cb6_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3003/2325082322_4d518a0f31_b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3003/2325082322_4d518a0f31_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com48tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397075671354139370.post-6699252055980514922008-03-01T11:56:00.002-06:002008-03-01T12:12:35.363-06:003 Days Overdue...and still no baby. I am quite the emotional ball of nerves these days. Well meaning friends and family are calling on a daily basis to check my status and it seems to be adding to my stress. Jim is taking me for eggplant parmigiana for lunch (and I don't even like eggplant). I have been reading all of your comments and just have been completely blown to the moon with all the love and good wishes and kind thoughts you have been sending my way. I am very much a shy/introverted person and have just been overwhelmed (in the best way possible) from all the love and support I feel from each of you. Thank you all so much!!!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397075671354139370.post-80852909492105609612008-02-19T20:23:00.012-06:002008-02-20T00:11:46.259-06:00We've Come A Long Way, Baby<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2331/2278845410_91ec4aeb4c_b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2331/2278845410_91ec4aeb4c_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>I've always been a late bloomer, and didn't really consider getting married until I was in my mid-30's. After kissing more than a few toads (and a snake or two, for that matter), I found my prince and married him at the ripe ol' age of 39. We both wanted a family and knew we weren't going to waste any time in that department. Little did I know there would be a snag. Enter the world of Assisted Reproductive Technology (ART) and the land of In Vitro Fertilization (IVF).<br /><br />As a newlywed couple, we were faced with a daunting situation. (The statistics, for a girl my age, just aren't very optimistic.) And Jim (God bless that man!) certainly stepped up to the challenge of supporting me through, easily, the hardest thing I have gone through thus far. And so began the process of administering shots, egg retrieval surgeries, and a long emotional rollercoaster ride.<br /><br />Long story short: Our first IVF cycle resulted in a pregnancy, but sadly, I miscarried early on. Our second cycle produced even fewer embryos - only two. But, happily I got pregnant again. I'll never forget the first time we heard the heartbeat. I think I was in shock. We were both crying and my doctor and nurse (heroes in my book) gave us big congratulatory smiles and hugs. The doc then asked, "So where do you two want to deliver?" And I remember thinking, "Deliver? Deliver what...a pizza?" It was just such awesome news I couldn't digest it right away. One of the two embryos below is our soon to be born daughter. I'm just amazed and humbled and so incredibly grateful.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2274/2278053123_bb074c7722_o.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2274/2278053123_bb074c7722_o.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>I don't even have words to describe how happy, fortunate, and grateful I feel. We were lucky. So lucky. Many couples go through these treatments and don't end up with a baby of their own. Of course, there are many alternative ways to have a family and, believe me, I don't think any one way is "better" than another. This is a lifelong dream come true for us though and it truly feels like a miracle.<br /><br />Some of the highlights of the infertility journey are:<br /><ul><li>Over 100 injections (in the thigh, stomach, and hip)</li><li>A fully stocked liquor cabinet that was quickly depleted by one stressed out husband</li><li>An extreme mix of faith and fear, high hopes and shattered dreams</li><li>Multiple runs to Costco for Kleenex for one emotionally distraught girl</li><li>Countless prayers and conversations with God (also some begging and pleading on my part)</li></ul>Here is an excerpt from my journal:<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">Well, tonight was the night for the big Kahuna shot. An inch and a half needle! Poor Jim-a-loo...he is not a medical kind of person. He prepares the shot while I'm in the other room. (He told me later that's when he started getting nauseous.) The time has come. I walk into the medical room, aka kitchen, and say, "Put that shot behind your back...I don't want to see it!" He gets the ice pack and slaps it on my butt. "Longer...longer," I plead. Several minutes later, he plunges the needle in my rump, surprised at how easily the needle slides in. I'm doing okay. I can handle this, I think. I am a bad-ass-woman-hear-me-roar-type trying to protect the home and survival of my future specks. Until...I feel his hand leave the shot and now, (huh?), he's sitting on the kitchen chair.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">"Jim, are you done?"</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">"No, baby." (long pause) "Just give me a second."</span> <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"><br />"What are you doing?," I say in a panicked voice, sweat beginning to bead on my forehead and upper lip.</span> <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"><br />No response.</span> <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"><br />"Is the shot dangling out of my ass?!!!" "What are you doing?!!!"</span> <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"><br />"Just hang on,", he says. "I'm about half-way done."</span> <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"><br />Oh, my God! This is starting to hurt. I moan. Now, I feel the thick medicine dispersing through my body. I think I am going to be sick. I hunch over the kitchen counter, with my weight on the non-shot leg, now sweating profusely. He pulls the needle out. I slump into the chair and immediately put my head between my knees. Jim staggers into the hallway and collapses onto the floor. He is drenched in sweat. I join him on the floor, stepping out of my fallen pants and collapse next to him. We did it.</span><br /><br />And now here we are... just seven days from Baby A's due date. Thank you all so much for checking into my blog now and then, and for all the sweet comments you've left. (Many times I will delay reading your comments because I want to savor them like little jewels.) I'm very appreciative of our creative community - what a nice and fun and supportive group of people! This will probably be the last time I post until the bebe arrives. Wish me luck. Hope to be back soon!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397075671354139370.post-15239586806594398622008-02-15T17:59:00.008-06:002008-02-18T14:05:53.590-06:00Hospital Swag<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2029/2267276783_2a3a89cb41_b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2029/2267276783_2a3a89cb41_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>As my due date approaches, I thought it would be fun to prepare a few tokens of appreciation to hand out at the hospital, kind of a modern day cigar. For the past, oh...nine months or so, I've been doing something that is probably not in my best emotional/mental interest (other than eating French fries, peanut butter, and any dessert within a half-mile radius). I've been watching those birthing shows on the Discovery channel. I tell myself I'm "educating myself" but really I think I'm just working myself up into a lather on all the things that can go wrong. Like the epidural not working. The baby gets stuck in the birth canal. You get the drift. My husband just shakes his head at me. (In fact, I've caught him deleting several episodes off of Tivo because they were "too intense.") Anyway, what I've picked up on in these shows is how the labor and delivery nurses are the ones who seem to do most of the work and provide most of the care. The doctor just breezes in when the baby's head is crowning and does his or her thing, but the nurses are the ones who are around to encourage and support and, more importantly, page the anesthesiologist when it's time for drugs. Let's just say I want to have a nice, friendly relationship with my nurses.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2062/2267256639_4a5ee773dc_b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2062/2267256639_4a5ee773dc_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>One of my favorite gift ideas for someone I may not know very well is a really fun pen. I love these <a href="http://pencity.com/cgi-bin/SoftCart.exe/Retro51/TornadoClassicRollerball.htm?L+scstore+jexm7250+1203204490">Tornado Retro 51 pens</a> and have given them as gifts many times over the years. They come in all kinds of colors and designs. I actually buy them at a local store (at a better price) and keep them on hand in the gift closet. And they come in a cool metal tube with the motto, "Life's too short to carry an ugly pen."<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2294/2267265453_8266067638_b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2294/2267265453_8266067638_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2070/2267259161_c52244ed71_b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2070/2267259161_c52244ed71_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Since Baby A should arrive in February, I thought a box of Mrs. Field's chocolates might be fun to give as well. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2054/2268055032_75be258aef_b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2054/2268055032_75be258aef_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2347/2268061746_6a064e722f_b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2347/2268061746_6a064e722f_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>I hope the hospital staff will enjoy these. They have such an important job and they affect so many people's lives (when they're at their most vulnerable!) that they deserve to be thanked and appreciated on a daily basis. If anyone deserves a little swag, they do. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2015/2268057434_f2ca231a0d_b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2015/2268057434_f2ca231a0d_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397075671354139370.post-42399420519436350192008-02-14T21:20:00.003-06:002008-02-14T21:44:19.107-06:00Happy Valentine's Day<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2040/2266351566_d1f893608b_b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2040/2266351566_d1f893608b_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Hope everyone is indulging in a decadent treat tonight and enjoying time with your sweetie-pie, good friends, or even solo time with yourself.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2339/2265555765_c2da35d7d8.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2339/2265555765_c2da35d7d8.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Jim and I are avoiding the restaurant scene and picking up take-out instead. A low-key night at home. In fact, he is taking a little snooze on the couch as I write this. We are such live wires these days!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2323/2266349386_74194eb025.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2323/2266349386_74194eb025.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Even though I gave him a free pass this year because of all the home improvement craziness, the boy still came home bearing hot food, a bouquet of beautiful flowers, a little gift (amy winehouse cd), and a card with the sweetest sentiments written inside. This is our second year of marriage and we are still very much in the lovebird phase. If I had known married life could be so gratifying, I think I would have considered it years ago. So...James Andrew, thank you for being my valentine. xoxoxo, k.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2249/2266347444_1f74827cfe.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2249/2266347444_1f74827cfe.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397075671354139370.post-24748587420389903442008-02-12T21:02:00.008-06:002008-02-13T17:46:25.206-06:00Scenes From A Nursery<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2387/2262050662_86a8c5d4d7.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2387/2262050662_86a8c5d4d7.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Hello, Friends, Fellow Bloggers, and Artists! I'm still alive and pregnant, due to give birth any day now. Initially, my OB was going to induce me early next week (he'll be out of town the week of my actual due date), but that plan has changed. After doing some research on induction and the positive correlation with C-sections, we've decided to let Baby A choose her own birthday, that is, unless I gradually begin to dilate and show some progress in that area. It's been an interesting decision. There is no medical reason why I should be induced. Baby is doing fine. She's not too big. I'm doing fine. Part of me is very attracted to the idea of knowing when the big day will be and being able to rest the night before, arrive calmly at the hospital, etc. However, it's very important to us (for reasons I'll post about another time) that we avoid a C-section, so it looks like we are going to let things happen on their own schedule. For the last two days, she's been squirming and kicking like crazy. I feel like she's communicating with me and letting me know that she's pretty cramped in there and really wanting to busta' move and come out soon. Wishful thinking on my part perhaps.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2056/2262053280_13a6c4bea0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2056/2262053280_13a6c4bea0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Home improvement continues at a steady clip. We now have fluffy new carpet in two rooms and Jim is almost finished putting hardwood down in the family room. Thank you so much for all of the baby love and hardwood compliments. (I have passed your sweet comments on to one weary and exhausted husband.) Our motto now is: "Just because you can, doesn't mean you should." My parents have come to help me clean the house and my mom made the bed skirt for the crib. The fabric has images of classic fairy tales, so I guess that is sort of my theme. Or, maybe my theme is no theme...too much pressure, you know?<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2016/2263169885_9d514845b2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2016/2263169885_9d514845b2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />I did give this art piece by <a href="http://earthangelstoys.com/html/cheryl_kuhn_-_small_stories_st.html">Cheryl Kuhn</a> a place of honor. I really love her work.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2194/2262061236_1c92f7cc89.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2194/2262061236_1c92f7cc89.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>This old creme colored hutch belonged to my Italian grandmother. It's pretty shabby and has been sitting in my garage, unused, for about nine years. The wood is warped and splintered, but yet I think it has a certain charm and the extra storage is useful. After putting out numerous bags full of stuff for FIVE consecutive weeks for donation pick-ups, I am really trying to utilize what I have instead of going out and buying something new. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2360/2262067004_b374e0beb0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2360/2262067004_b374e0beb0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2403/2261263955_db7aea1f27.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2403/2261263955_db7aea1f27.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Vintage animals and the Mouse Family are ready to welcome Baby A to her new environment. I cannot believe I am about to become a mom. It still hasn't sunk in yet. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2149/2261272609_1e4550a520.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2149/2261272609_1e4550a520.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2052/2262058508_438cabf8f2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2052/2262058508_438cabf8f2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>And, I've got my girly, tactile-liscious Cake bag ready for diaper duty. A big THANKS to my Silver Bella buddy, <a href="http://www.carmenleigh.com/">Carmen</a> for encouraging me to keep this over-the-top purchase. I do love it and this bag will have its own special place in the purse timeline of life. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2351/2261278287_a6aee1b673.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2351/2261278287_a6aee1b673.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Well, folks, the tummy is tight as a tic and the nest is full of twigs. I'll let you know when the stork arrives!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6