Tag Archives: design

It’s Hump Day

6 May

Can you hear that camel proclaiming the day? There truly are advertising geniuses out there. How many jingles can you hum or sing? How many ad quotes pepper your thoughts or speech? Oh yeah…geniuses.

I’m not one.

There is a lovely cardinal hovering around the window outside my workroom. He was perched on the fence when I first noticed him. Ah, Spring has sprung and the temps are hovering in the eighties this week. Time to consider opening the pool. The water will slowly warm and eventually we can spend an evening or two enjoying the stars.

Nights would be best. Either that or a full body suit for me. Either one would hide the many imperfections! Hehe…who cares? Every wrinkle and imperfection has been earned I think.

Today I’m posting again to my Etsy shop. Here’s the offering. Let me know what you think…or go shopping here!

4 x 6 Photo swapping frame. Rustic, country style, embellished with cotton florals.

4 x 6 Photo swapping frame. Rustic, country style, embellished with cotton florals.

Pretty in Green photo swapping 4 x 6 picture frame

Pretty in Green photo swapping 4 x 6 picture frame

May Day and The Sun is Shining

1 May

Good day! May 1st finds me still unemployed and energetically, well as energetically as possible for a woman of a certain age, in pursuit of a dream. That being creating a living without a job.

There is much to learn.

Today’s Etsy finds in aFrameJob follow. I hope you like them and would so appreciate some honest feedback. If you’re seeing them posted all over the place, please forgive me. I’m trying to increase visibility. You can help! Just share my postings. And thank you in advance.

Tomorrow I will participate in the Arkansas Regional Innovation Hub Mini Maker Faire. My booth can be found in Craft World. Must say, this is beyond exciting. All the markets, fairs, festivals, events…get us out and about and meeting and greeting. Hopping about may be a great introduction to new places and spaces in Arkansas.

So here’s to May Day, also a Friday. Hope yours is splendid!

Farmhouse fancy, shabby or cottage chic, rustic, Southwestern...here's an eclectic bit of home decor for framing the moments of your life.

Farmhouse fancy, shabby or cottage chic, rustic, Southwestern…here’s an eclectic bit of home decor for framing the moments of your life.

A 5 x 7 picture slides behind the glass of this creation and can be hung horizontally or vertically.

And another Pic-ket, suitable for a standard 4 x 6 photo.

And another Pic-ket, suitable for a standard 4 x 6 photo.

The 5 x 7 is only $32.00. The 4 x 6 is $24.00. Both can be found here.

Pinterest Project #11, Milk, and Snakes

13 Nov

My daughter is my bestest friend. She’s gone so far as to agree when the time comes and my mental faculties desert me, she’ll pull the trigger and put me out of her misery. Ain’t she sweet?

We actually hang out together. Saturday we spent the afternoon at Holiday House. It’s a huge market hosted by the Junior League. We wandered through the crowds, spent a little money, checked all the marvelous handmade offerings, and tasted the dips and soups and margarita mixes. That last one was way cool.

I blame my inner ear problem for the stumbling gait I developed as we left the convention center. That pesky inner ear has gathered fluid. And that’s my story, I’m sticking to it.

Then we shared a meal. Really. We shared a sandwich and some cheese dip.

Sunday she came over for Craft Day. She is the designer for today’s Pinterest inspired project. So kudos to Alexis (I call her by her middle name…Falon) Sanghera for Project #11, our inspirational Christmas tree. Find the simple instructions here.

O Christmas Tree

This morning I left the house to buy more green paint and a foot for my sewing machine. I lost the one I removed to make buttonholes. I seem to have a penchant for misplacing things. It’s somewhere in there. I know it.

That foot might have joined the screwdrivers, pins, wrenches, various brushes, pieces to my Dremel, my Xacto knife….

Milk was up this morning. I guess the cows have gone on strike.

Have you ever had milk, full cream, brought in fresh off the cow? I think one of my first memories is of my grandfather bringing a galvanized bucket of milk into the dining room of their old farm house. He passed me in my high chair. My grandmother stopped him and dipped a small glass just for me. Mmmmm. He made sausage and grew cotton.

The house was a rock house. It still stands. There was a front stoop with steps on both sides leading to the front door. I remember a root cellar and the weird little knob on the door. It was small and oval and metal and just about the right size for a kid hand.

I remember being sent to the cotton fields with a mason jar of water for Grandpa. I would run across the wooden bridge as though chased by demons. I was terrified and convinced snakes lived in great numbers under that bridge on the banks of the creek.

I hate snakes. I hate looking at them at the zoo. They may be behind glass, but they’re still snakes. Freud might have diagnosed me with an overwhelming case of penis envy.

<big sigh>

We have Copperheads here. I ran over one with the lawn mower about 13 summers ago. When I saw it, I ran like hell from the barn to the house, screaming all the way. Once I regained my breath I realized there was no one to deal with it but me.

I was in no hurry, but the old lawnmower was running.

My skin crawled all the way back to the barn. Of course the snake was pretty much shredded, but I watched closely for some time. If that puppy moved I was headed to the house again.

It didn’t move.

Bob found one shortly after he moved here. He wanted to play with it. I stood on the porch repeatedly demanding he kill it. It got away. I didn’t go to that side of the house for six months or so.

I hate snakes.

Did I tell you I hate snakes?

I have learned to let King snakes go. They kill Copperheads. It only took 40-something years.

I learned to eat turnip greens in less time.

And, no, I will never eat snake.

Beautiful Things, Neurotic Dogs, and Pink Elephants

7 Nov

Wasn’t the election a beautiful thing to watch?

Today was a wasted day around here. When I woke, the heat was out again. Geez, it was repaired on Monday. Had to deal with that and of course it was a bit chilly in the house. I really did set out to work. I have a set of knitted designs I’m attempting to list on Ravelry and that is another learning curve I must negotiate. I wanted to finish the three projects I have lying on the table.  I needed to vacuum and do the dishes. We needed dog food and soda so a shopping expedition was imminent.

And then there was Molly, the neurotic Labrador.

She stood and barked at me. I feed her. I treated her. I tried to ignore her. I threw both Labs out and shut the doggie door and left them for a while.

She scratched at the door.

I threw them out to the unfenced portion of the yard and briefly considered the possibility of a large, speeding truck making its way down our dead-end road.

That thought caused a great surge of guilt.

They apparently ran until their tongues were lolling on the floor when I let them return to the house.

And she barked at me again.

I checked the food bowl again. Bunny is kind of piggy and will sometimes eat all the food before Molly and Peanut get a share. Bowls were empty. I gave them more. Gave her one more treat after she calmed down and then I hid the pink elephant. The pink elephant holds the treats.

By the time the pink elephant found a new home brain fog had crept over me.

I couldn’t remember my name or where I live.

So I huddled under the throw on the sofa and dozed while waiting for the repairman.

He finally got here and repaired the heat again. No Charge. Good thing too. I wasn’t a happy camper about the situation. But they took care of it and I am grateful.

I did manage a shower. I did pick up dog food.

I do love my dogs, even the neurotic one…anyone know a good, cheap doggie therapist?

Pinterest Inspired Project #8, Bartending, and Tricks

2 Nov

Woooooowhoooo. Number 8 is now complete! I like this one.

The complete tute is here.

Tea Lights and Tinis in Snow

Speaking of martini glasses, I was a bartender for years. Mixing drinks and chattering away at customers and cocktail waitresses is a blast. Now there’s a job that fed my random, nocturnal nature.  It takes a certain skill and mindset to be a bartender. It uses your head and your hands, requires a bit of diplomacy, the ability to count, and multitask and if you’re lucky it will amuse and astound you. Okay the people you meet amuse and astound.

What else have I occupied myself with over the years.

I worked in a retail store.  I worked for an arts council. Wrote a grant to the National Endowment for the Arts. We received it too. I spent two years teaching in a theatre project for kindergarten through high school. I’ve waited tables, both food and cocktail and worked in beverage management for a hotel.

I’ve worked for the state employment service. I’ve even been a janitor. I’ve been the entire office for a family-owned business.

Once, a very long time ago, I was hired by Radio City Music Hall as an intern. I didn’t start the job. That’s a regret. Apparently they called when I came home….and no one mentioned it to me until months later.

I’ve been a technical writer for knit and crochet and designed some of both. I wrote blurbs for the how-to’s published by the same company. That was a blast.

Who knows what else.

And now I aspire to be a writer

If ever I can learn to keep my mind on the page and off the myriad number of projects lined up in my  craft cave. Of course at this point, most of the projects are an exercise in writing. I’m really hoping to learn. I may be an old dog, but I’ve got hope there are still a few tricks left.

Sounds like I have something illegal in mind. Well, I’ve always said if I could sell it by the pound I’d be a rich woman.

There goes that innuendo-laden wit.

Have a great weekend everyone. Thanks for stopping by!

It’s been my pleasure.

Pinterest Inspired Tutorial #7 Posted

31 Oct

Good morning!

It was still dark when I woke this morning. Before you know it I’ll be bearish and hibernating.

This is a quick one….hope to get back later today. We’ll see if I get all my chores done. Wish me luck!
The Snowman Quartet made it to posting today! Yay! It is here.

The Snowball Quartet

I intend to make another. I’ll add more pics when I do.

Hope everyone has a delightful day today. It has certainly been my pleasure to be here.

 

A Fifty Something Ramble on Airports, Southern, and a Mission in Life

15 Oct

Mondays are just another example of tortuous human behavior.

You would think waking up to a brand new week of work and play would garner more excitement. Not so here. Work is the hard part. It’s another day, another dollar, another 50 cents in debt. Wow what a pessimistic attitude. Where did this come from?

Yesterday I spent a few minutes at the Little Rock National airport. My wandering daughter was due in from a conference in Cleveland. Her husband was outside the city competing in a triathlon. He came in first in his age group and seventh overall. Yay Simon!

So, I’m at the airport observing and keeping an eye on the escalator coming from the concourse. A couple of folks are getting coffee at the Starbucks. Some sit in the area designated as a waiting area. It’s a small airport so the Sunday traffic on a non-holiday weekend is minimal. People are waiting for their loved ones or their business associates. Some arrive and exit the airport alone to find their parked cars or an airport shuttle.

I rarely fly. It is an experience I do enjoy however, especially the airports.  I loved the shops in Charlotte, loved flying into La Guardia and catching a glimpse of the Statue, was fascinated by the moving sidewalks in Atlanta and the little hop, hop, jump you make at the end of one. Toronto’s airport was a definite experience.  So many people and languages and cultures represented. This little Southern girl was awed! Everyone is rushing, hustling and bustling on one mission or another whether it is a search for fun on vacation time or a search for success in a business venture or a homecoming long anticipated. All of us enter an airport with a mission, an agenda.

I wonder how many of us approach life in general with a mission.

I am a common woman of a certain age. And I, like many of us, have been on a quest to survive.  I’ve worked. I’ve played. I’ve dreamed. And I have tasted the otherness of lives not my own. I have travelled a little. I have read a lot. I’m of average intelligence.

But my mission has largely remained unknown to me. Is my mission to make a living? That doesn’t seem like much of a mission. Is my mission to help mankind? Well I’ve certainly failed at that. Do I have a shopping mission? Well I do love to shop, but I’ve got way too much stuff now.  Richard Bach wrote in Illusions: The Adventure of a Reluctant Messiah, paraphrased, that if you are still here your mission has not yet been accomplished. So be it. I’m still here.

Now, what I’m doing here, literally or figuratively. I’ve waxed philosophic on both topics. Seriously why would anyone want to read a blog by some unknown weirdo woman with a penchant for random behavior and a love of anything design, craft, sew, knit, crochet, on and on….And then there is the point of being here in this life, on this planet, this plane of existence. The IS (see ABOUT) must be having a ‘larpin’ good time enjoying the machinations of humans.

So here we are. What are we doing? Finding peace and prosperity for the whole human body doesn’t seem to be on the agendas of our leaders. Their interests seem to include only the acquisition of power and money.  Like you’re gonna take that with you. Unnnhuh. Tolerance and understanding seem to be in short supply as well.

I’ve become jaded. Oh no. We can’t go there! And I’m rambling. The phrase ‘Get the Hook’ comes to mind. Entertainers on stage who were considered less the remarkable in the old days were dragged from the stage by a huge hook. The audience demanded the extraction of those less than stellar performers by screaming the phrase.

So yell out you two readers I have. Yell out ‘Get the Hook’ and I will exit by demand stage right or left in my case. After all, the Donkey on my mailbox says ‘Stay Left’.

Oh…I’m pretty sure I spelled it wrong, but ‘larpin’ is Southern for exceptionally. For example: them wuz some larpin good vittles you cooked Ma. I love Southern. If you need instruction in how to speak it, just call. I ud be raight glad to hep ya.

Greatest Invention Ever!

10 Oct

I’m clumsy. This is an admission I thought never to make.

Hubby, Bob, has been reminding me of this shortcoming for most of the 13 years we’ve been married. I have steadfastly refuted his opinion. I am not, nor ever have been, clumsy.

Today I have to fess up. I love that phrase…’fess up’. Perhaps you have to be Southern by birth and inclination to appreciate it.

Back to the fessing up.

I’m clumsy.

What brought this admission forth?  You may ask.  I will tell you.

A morning state of brain fog is the culprit. Lack of sleep and large quantities of coffee may have contributed to this fess up. Well, not the coffee cause I was on my first cup. Maybe it was lack of large quantities of coffee.

That first cup was sitting on the bathroom counter.

I reached for it. And coffee flew. It covered the counter top. It dripped into the cabinet door. It pooled onto the floor.

And it soaked my phone.

I was a bit miffed, but maintained calm. Surprise!

And I discovered the greatest invention known to man, the Otter Box. My phone, once removed from its purple and teal covering, was unscathed. So I washed the Otter Box, polished the phone, and found myself in business again.

Wow. Who woulda thunk it? My amazement knows no end. Next I’ll try hurling my phone against the wall.

Oh, I did clean the counter, cabinet, door, and floor. Ick.

The pear tree in the back yard amazes too.

The Pear Tree

I stumbled up toward the barn earlier and decided to check the tree for leaves to press.  That tree is still laden with pears. I don’t eat fruit much because it spikes my blood glucose levels, but I couldn’t resist. I reached for a fresh pear, straight off the tree.

The Bountiful Crop

It took about a minute to consume its luscious juiciness. No doubt there was a little dirt and perhaps a smidgen of bird poop on it. I didn’t care. The flavor was delightful, the juice ran down my chin in sticky rivulets. The beauty of that tree registered with me in a meaningful way today. How did I miss this before? It has to be a case of not taking the time to smell the roses.

I may have to go back for more. I certainly have to go back for more. And I have to find the smell of roses more often. It is time to take time.

Zach brought another rose from the garden yesterday, the second one in recent days.  It is now sitting on the kitchen counter in a mason jar.

By Any Other Name

So late to have a rose blooming in the yard. It’s a gift to have this little reminder of another summer still gracing my home.

Bob and I planted three roses early in our marriage. Yesterday was our 13th anniversary. We both forgot.

The New Dawn rose is trellised over an entrance to the center garden space. There are a few brief days in early summer when it blooms outrageously. Once the blooms begin to fade the ground is carpeted with fragrant petals for a while. Contemplating that makes the short days of winter a prelude.

I will endeavor to accept the coming time change in a spirit inclined to enjoy the prelude to a symphony of hyacinths, jonquils, tulips, lilies, and finally roses.

Mozart didn’t stand a chance against Mother Nature. I will admit that his legacy has enhanced the enjoyment of Her work on occasion.

Here’s to Mother Nature and Mozart. Cheers.

Brand New World

28 Sep

If you read yesterday’s post, you’ve probably guessed that I wake up in a brand new world every morning. It takes a few moments and a small quantity of coffee to bring me back to planet Earth. Okay sometimes it takes all morning and a large quantity of coffee.

This morning was no different.

The door was shut so Molly’s click-click-whine had not disturbed me. There was a hot spot at my back. It turned out to be Peanut buried under covers. There wasn’t much sun coming from the window. It was rather overcast. These epiphanies poured into my conscious mind like sorghum molasses flowing on a biscuit outside in January.

In other words, it was a slow process. Very slow.

I crawled out again. Bob had made coffee. I was grateful.

Time passed. The fog in my brain did not. It did occur to me that the house was a shambles and needed some major help. A few weeks ago we had all the duct work replaced under the house. We also emptied one (yes we have two) of the attics in preparation for new insulation installation.

That attic filled a shed, half the kitchen, and half the living room. We found books, and baubles, an amazing amount of paper. There were records from my great-grandmother’s property taxes well before World War II. Oh my. I organized the paper. We took it back to the attic and stored it on shelves that are permanently attached to the rafters. I missed a couple of boxes in the process. Oh, well.

Days passed. Still there was no insulation installation. Now the living room was becoming problematic. I had the urge to rearrange the furniture.

So we moved all the bins and boxes to the carport. Poor Bru-honda can barely squeeze into the space. He requires cover from falling limbs, the occasional hail storm. And I require cover when exiting the house. You never know when rain will fall.

Then we moved all the miscellaneous Christmas decorations to my Craft Cave, the room designated for my random ventures into design and crafting. That created a tight squeeze for my large butt.

Now, where was I? Oh yeah, this morning. House a shambles…I kinda got side-tracked on the back story.

We are still waiting on the insulation, but I must clear some of this out.

I start in the Cave. Now during all this shuffling, we removed a full sized pillow-top fluffy thing from my son’s bed. He no longer wanted its comfort. It’s not an easy thing to fold. Not an easy thing to carry around. Not an easy thing to store. It’s been folded in my Cave for many days. Well at least until it fell off the chair and landed in a heap on the floor.

It is the first thing I pick up. This fluffy thing has to be folded once again. And it has to be stored. First I have to decide how to store it. I go looking for a bag. I keep all the plastic packaging when I buy new comforters and pillowcases and sheet sets so I started there. No luck in finding a package. All the big ones were already taken. I did run across two of those space-saving things you suck all the air out of with your vacuum.

One was big enough for papa bear. One was about the size of baby bear. The other looked just right.

I took the just right one and the fluffy thing to my bed. I did the folding struggle. M’arm’s started to hurt.

I proceeded to a writhe and squirm bag stuffing. Returning to the cave, bag in hand I began a close-the-bag-suck-the-air battle. I stood on the bag, kneed it repeatedly, nearly broke a finger on the closing, lashed the floor with it, cursed it soundly, and still did not achieve closure.

And now there is a hole in the bag.

Molly and I both need a life.

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