Fairy Scrapmother Gift

 I have learned a lot this year. Starting to blog is a bit intimidating. And then there is the whole how do you want to blog subject. Like do you want to just post your project or do you want to share why you did what you did? Or go a bit farther and take it down to a personal level? All good choices that work.

Me personally, my goal is to be real. Those are the posts I like to read the best. And when I say real, I don't mean DRAMA real. I mean, really real like the Velveteen Rabbit. The kind where a little fairy kisses you on the nose real. The good kind of real. And, my guess is if you are reading this, I am reading your blog and you are posting real stuff so a huge thanks from this fan!

Anyhow, that sort of brings me around to my next gift.

This little book is long since in the mail to Helen in South Africa.

She pops in almost daily to my brain in my inbox or on blackberry messenger chat or in blog land on her blog. It is an interesting thing to connect with someone so far away you may never meet in person.

I just didn't think she should wait to see her present. It could take WEEKS! I have this horrible problem where I want to give presents IMMEDIATELY to the person who is getting them. Picture me hopping on one foot right now, wanting to hit the POST button and then text Helen to go read my blog NOW!

Helen blogs about real stuff too. I am pretty sure our 11 year old girls are related somehow and that both our cats may be competing for crazy cat of the year award.

I like to see her as my Fairy Scrapmother. Who else can I text and get the answer to whether it is journaling with one "l" or two? And her opinion on which one to use since it is most certainly jargon to the scrap industry and not technically a real word.

Anyhow, this is a smash book. Or, my version of one. I have watched a lot of people do smash books in blog land and they look like a blast. I have also read posts of them having to modge podge pages together since the pages are thin, so I decided to come up with my own for Helen. Not sure if she will want to try her hand, but if she doesn't, I am sure she can use this for something creative. Sketches maybe? Thoughts? Who knows.

The actual book came from Big Lots. We just got one in our town and it's funny for me to say what a BIG DEAL it actually is since our other choice is Walmart or an hour drive. They had these pretty little books and I fell in love with the vintage cover. Of course, that is just about all that is now left, just the front & back cover! Everything else I've changed up!

I replaced the photo pages with real heavy duty smooth cardstock. AND, those little black ribbon thingies on the cover screw out so she can take the pages out to play with. Hand dyed the pink ribbon which is the US version of seam binding with some inks and also dyed the lace behind it a mottled green. The little red ribbon rose & silver eye lash ribbon came from Shirley and other two are from a local shop who sells handmade flowers.

And, the little girl on the cover isn't Helen when she was little, it was an image I found out on the Graphics Fairy that made me laugh and laugh. I also pulled a trick out of Helen's book and used nail polish to change up the gold circular frame to match the rest of the little metal pieces!

Anyhow, thanks Helen for being a great bloggy friend from thousands of miles away. Have a very merry Christmas with extra glitter on top!

Sunday Stories: Hank and the Milk Snake by Bruce Mero

Here is another story by my Dad. Funny thing is that I remember it. Hank was one cool dude. In fact, when I drive to my Mom and Dad's house and pass by his farm, I have great memories of hanging out with the new calves and barn cats. And for the record, snakes still do not bother me today. 

And if you get a chance to read this, leave my Dad some love. It's working because he wrote another story for my blog!!! 

Hank and the Milk Snake

by Bruce H. Mero

From our beginning days as gardeners, Gretchen and I have attempted to minimize the chemicals we use on our plantings and, over the years have managed to eliminate them completely on the vegetables we grow.  Integral to this process is our encouragement of beneficial insects, spiders, toads and snakes in the garden to discourage the bad guys from eating our plants. This was easy to do in most cases. What gardener doesn’t delight in watching lady bugs munching on aphids or a praying mantis decapitating a grasshopper? Good bugs eating bad bugs. No problem. Admittedly, however, I am still a bit squeamish about allowing spiders and snakes the unfettered access to our place that this type of pest management requires. I know they are helping to keep my veggies free of pests, but my flight-or-fight instinct still engages momentarily when the black plastic beneath my knees moves and I can detect the outline of a patrolling garter snake as it searches for lunch. Intellectually, I am comfortable in the knowledge that the critter is doing good things under that plastic, but something deep inside of me still feels threatened and wants to run for a rake or shovel for protection. As irrational as it may be, innate fear always trumps intellect. Instinct is strong motivation.

            Our daughter, Mitra, does not have that fear, or at least doesn’t exhibit it. The presence of a variety of insects, amphibians, reptiles and other fauna around the farm presented her with many things watch, talk to and play with. Her favorite thing was to capture critters and show them to others. During her childhood, a menagerie of frogs, toads, newts, efts, tadpoles, sunfish, mice, snakes, baby birds, baby rabbits, baby woodchucks, chickens, spiders, butterflies, worms and stray cats, among other things had been cradled in her seven-year-old hands and shown to whomever was around. On one occasion Gretchen was in the kitchen when Mitra ran through the back door carrying a large Milk Snake to show her mother. The Milk Snake she had captured today in the sweet corn patch behind the barn had been in the kitchen several times previously, and had once bitten her nose as she attempted to kiss it on the head. This snake had been around several summers and had grown to four feet in length. He was magnificent with bold patterns of tan and reddish-brown bordered in black. His skin was smooth and glossy. Gretchen calmly admired the trophy and then asked her to take the snake back outside.  Mitra ran out the back door and to the back of the barn where she released it. The snake lay still in the warm sun.

It was the time for the second cutting of hay and the dairy farmer from the farm south of ours was bailing hay in a field just up the road and ferrying hay wagons back and forth. On one such trip, a loaded wagon had a flat tire and Hank had parked the rig in the road across from our front yard and driven the tractor to his place to get a spare tire. He had returned. Mitra rounded the corner of the barn just in time to see Hank crawl under the hay wagon with a jack to begin the tire change.

Hank was a 220-pound, muscular six footer wizened by a life of hardscrabble farming on this rocky hill. Mitra barely reached his waist when standing along side and was a quarter of his weight. Hank and Mitra were pals and they were a sight together. Naturally she wanted to show her friend her latest pet, so she ran back and recaptured the Milk Snake which was still where she had put it in the sun.

At this point in my story, I need to establish a little context for what occurred next. Hank hated snakes; he absolutely despised them. This fact was legendary. Needless-to-say, he didn’t share our philosophy about good critters controlling bad critters. Snakes were bad, period. Any encounter with a snake over his 60 years of farming usually ended with the snake dead and Hank evacuating. He detested nothing more than being surprised by a snake.

Mitra was short enough to walk upright under the hay wagon. She said hello to Hank who lay on his side, his back to her, jacking up the wagon. Hank grunted a greeting and went back to the task at hand. He had no time to visit.

“Hank,” she said, “I have something to show you.” 

“I’m busy right now,” he replied, “show me later.”  Mitra stood there for a minute or so and when she figured that it was now “later” she walked around to Hank’s front side, squatted and held the Milk Snake about two feet away and at eye level with her friend. Hank looked up at her. He looked at the snake. His eyes looked again into her eyes and then he focused on the snake. It was several seconds before he fully recognized what she was showing him, but when he did, his panic was instantaneous. With flight mechanism fully engaged, he attempted to stand-up. He thumped his head on the bottom of the wagon and fell back down. He tried again. Thump. Again. Thump. The gravel under his feet flew. With each head thump on the bottom of the wagon came an expletive. This was repeated many times more before he rolled clear of the wagon and ran a hundred feet down the road, holding his head and cursing. 

His contortions and epithets under the wagon had frightened Mitra. She dropped the snake and ran back towards the house. Her mom, meanwhile, had seen the whole thing and was leaning against the kitchen doorway nearly doubled over with laughter. After a few minutes, Hank regained enough composure to climb back onto his tractor and retreat. Haying was done for that day.

The hay wagon stayed in the road until nightfall. Hank returned after dark to finish changing the tire and drag the wagon home; after dark and, hopefully, after a seven-year-olds bedtime. The Milk Snake survived the encounter. He lived several more summers; growing fat in our garden and making many more trips into the house.  

Happy Easter

Well, my friend Lisa was VERY specific about requesting NO CHRISTMAS PRESENTS. Very. And, if you know Lisa, it is always wise to follow her direction. Not to mention she has one of the most interesting backyards I know of here. They do scrap and I'm like a kid in the candy store when I browse through their piles of metal. 

She never said NO EASTER PRESENTS. So, I made this lovely little bird cage for her the other day. I had found this bird cage a while back. It's not old, but certainly does not look new, so will work for her decorating. 

I used a little Easter Card I downloaded from The Graphic Fairy and carefully colored one of the hand made flowers I got from The Mad Recycler. Not sure what kind of glue Janessa used, but when I dumped several shades of glimmermist (didn't spray it, both were clogged and in a fit of grouchy just took the tops off and dumped) on the flower, it slowly fell apart. After the pretty little petals dried, I reassembled with hot glue). Interestingly enough, the magnet she used the back really helped as I was able to just place this flower here and didn't have to glue it. That way when Lisa stores it, she can take the flower off and wrap separately.

AND here is a little picture of my birdie friend who is hanging out in her pressie! Wish me luck, hope she loves it and doesn't pound me.

Thrifting and Gifting: Some Special Trees

I spent a large chunk of Oct/November entertained on the blogging front by Lisa's 12 Days of Christmas Milk Cartons. Between the vintage TV, real windows to the ice made out of sandwich bags, I was constantly amazed. Today I went to her blog to grab some links and it's SNOWING on her blog. Seriously? That is some talent. Although, I like invisible snow personally or the kind that is sparkly on a Christmas card. 

Anyhow, the other day she sent me these funky metal leaves and some hedge apples. The leaves and I are working through some issues, (meaning I need to channel my inner Tim Holtz and make something super awesome) but the hedge apples and I are quite happy. They are funny little fruits that are basically inedible but have that funky green color. And, they have a bit of a citrus smell. Since my parents are Master Gardeners I bought some with me for Turkey Day and Dad and I spent some time googling their uses.

Basically, it appears they are good for feeding squirrels. Or poking them full of cloves. Either way, I love them with their ugly.

So, thought I would send her something funky back preferably something green. I first thought little trees to go with her milk cartons until I (duh MITRA!) realized they hang on the tree. So, I made them anyway. But thought they needed little stumps. I was thinking corks 'til I spotted this post by Patti West where she made trees and used these candle sticks she found at Walmart. Plus, she is local to me so I knew odds were that I could find them. Of course, adding a candle stick would make the tree much much bigger than a milk carton. BUT, so pretty! On the way to the store I ran into North County Neighbors where they were having a huge holiday bash. (as in free cookies and hot coco). And found this other little beauty, one single sad candle stick (silver none the less) from Oneida Silversmith. OH, poor little lonely candlestick, I can make you happy!

I love re purposing something, in fact, with the exception of the Styrofoam cones and pearl head pins, everything on both trees pretty much are using up old stash. The old buttons and lace were from Marilyn and   dyed where appropriate.

So hopefully they arriving at Lisa's house in one piece. I begged the nice guy at the post office to take care of them.

And, look at my other find! This cutie pie puppy dog! He reminds me of my Westie so I had to bring him home.I don't think I will change him up at all. Too cute and faded already.

And last but not least, this lovely light blue bowl. I think it used to house butter. It might have been a whole $3. I know, loveliness can also be cheap! It is holding some of my more special ribbon. The pup up there was quite a bit more, like $15, but boy, he is making me happy hanging out with my scrap stuff! 

Fun times! Thanks for hanging with me my friend and keep up inspiring!

Team Turkey page for Another Freaking Scrappy Challenge

Giggle.

No seriously. We are this nuts. 


So when discussing the Thanksgiving Holiday and our time off, THE MAN made the bold statement that all he wanted to do for Thanksgiving was play paint ball in our woods. Well, it was unseasonably warm for most of Nov. so I don't blame him. 


The day after Thanksgiving he got his buck, so was ready for us to start using our woods again. Pretty much fall hits and we've got strict instructions not to bother the deer. Nice for them, but we miss our woods and creek!


So, we got some "trainer" paint ball guns and had the kids give it a whirl. No way we were going to ask them to do something they weren't cool with. Oh my. They are totally more devious and sneaky than I imagined. 


THE MAN and I did have prior experience with paint ball. We played when we were younger and up to the point where fall turned into winter and the balls were frozen. It's not horrible getting hit with one unless of course you only have one layer of clothing. So, my outfit was from my earlier days playing and was the only thing still around since, hey, I don't wear camouflage as a normal thing. 


This page was for a challenge hosted by none other than the very awesome Another Freaking Scrappy Challenge Site :


Our challenge this time around is to scrap a treasured Thanksgiving memory for you, DO NOT USE THE COLOUR ORANGE anywhere in the layout. Ha ha!! If you do not celebrate Thanksgiving – how about scrapping what you are thankful for, or why not scrap a family reunion or gathering????


That of course was right up my alley with my non-traditional photos and layout!


This page was designed to be predominately green since the whole point of the game is to not be seen. Or at least be hard to see. I did use a scrap I had that had a wee amount of orange in the little itty bitty little pumpkins, but I am sure there is some fine print that allows for microscopic amounts of orange....I did want to give a small nod to Thanksgiving, a holiday that gets smothered in Christmas. I also opted to use pretty things. I mean, it SOUNDS and LOOKS like a vicious game. Let me assure you, not only do we have the proper gear for it to be safe, but we don't take it that seriously. 


Although I am hard to see, I am easy to hear. I can usually be found crouched behind a large rock giggling like a hyena. Of course, once I am HIT by a paintball gun you can totally hear me. I might let a few naughty words fly and then there is the laying on the ground kicking my feet part too. You are supposed to exit the game with dignity and your gun held up high over your head. Me, I chose the flailing around & verbal method to alert everyone that I am down. 


Now, this isn't to say this game doesn't bring out the bad parent in all of us. Here is a conversation I heard.

THE MAN:  (yelling something indecipherable to his team)
Lexi:  What did you say, Daddy?
Me: (Lexi, shhh, don't give yourself away)
THE MAN:  PUT YOUR HEAD UP
Lexi:  What? What did he say Mommy?
Me: Lexi, never mind. HE IS A BAD DADDY.


He did need the advantage. Where a tree doesn't exactly cover an adult very well and there are usually parts sticking out that can get hit by a paint ball...it covers the small people quite well. They are really hard to get out. My son comes up with the best strategies. He came up with the creep along the creek method down below the bank where they can't see you and come at them from behind method. I always try to make sure he's on my team although the daughter is a great shot. You just can't go wrong with either of them. I typically am the weak link!


The very lovely doily in my stash is from Eye Candy Creations and is my last one, sob! I have used them carefully so hopefully I can get my hands on more! Also used a bit of dyed gauze and green twine, love them both. The little green sparkly twirly thingies I found in a basket at JoAnnes the other day. I haven't even heard of the brand, but they were sparkly so perfect for me. If glitter was a food group, I'd probably eat it!


Anyhow go have yourself a play along with this challenge. I for one had a nice time taking a break from all the Christmas stuff and my brain was a wee bit clearer after. 

A Penguin Present

We spotted this little Penguin Advent Calendar a while back at the Christmas Tree Store and had to take him home. ADORABLE! Well, not as cute as he is now. When we got him, his little hat and scarf were just painted! And, no bow or snowflake on the top of his hat! Had to add some finishing touches and now he's ready to go home with Chelsea, our old baby sitter from our old house just as soon as she gets here. She is coming up to visit shortly.

Yes, I know it's a strange present as part of the month will already have passed. We bough local chocolates to go behind the little doors. But...I am sure she can make use of the "extra" and get caught back up. I do love our local chocolate store. They have various chocolates that represent the local areas here. The boxes at Christmas come with a "key" and tell you what all their names are. So, maybe when she tries one, she can look up the town and get familiar with the area! (Oh so happy to even THINK THIS insert happy dance) She is coming here in the fall to college!!!!

WHOOHHOOOOH!

Ok, so the hat and scarf were cut out of an old sweater I just loved that was destined for the garage as a rag. I hot glued them on and them modge podged over them adding some glitter into the glue at the end. I LOVE IT! The only step I might do differently was cover up the paint first. Anyhow as you cruise down the isles with your shopping, keep half an eye out for something that is cool but can be COOLER! Yes, pun intended!

OH and Chelsea? She is IN LOVE with Penguins. I am sure the kids will easily talk to her into seeing Happy Feet 2 while she is here.

Shirley's Gift and playing at The Color Room

I bought this Tim Holz shadow box ages ago with the plans to make something for Shirley for Christmas. Then it came and it was this glossy tan color that kind of threw me off for a bit. And it looked complicated. Well, this weekend, I had our big advent calendar from Silhouette I had purchased to work on (I know, I am behind!!!!) that needed to be spray painted black, so I decided I would try spraying this tray white. It might have been cheap spray paint, but it wasn't cooperating.

I wanted WHITE because I had spotted this color combo at The Color Room and fell IN LOVE.

Spray painted was NOT covering, so I had to pull out some gesso and some light blue glimmermist. The nice part about the gesso was the texture I got around the edges that I got to add some sparkle to! Love it!

All the little bits that went into this box I found at a local store, carefully picking through what was left of the ornaments. In fact, the little green glittery tree I had found MUCH earlier in the season and cut it down A LOT to fit into this box.  Love the little blue bird of happiness! Love the flowers that I dyed to match the orange color in the challenge and crinkle ribbon!

I always stress a bit when a gift of mine requires work out of someone. I knew Shirley would have time and a cutter to fill this box a bit with some pretty photos.

Check it out! She came over early yesterday morning to grab her present and by the afternoon, I had photos!

I have the most lovely present from her to show you, but I was hoping at some point yesterday we'd get some sun so I could get a photo outside. NOPE! You will just have to wait. Every time I pass it, it makes me smile!!! Love gifts like that made with love!

Girl Logic and Chook Romance

So, the other day when Lexi got home I asked her how school was. Getting the normal shrug, I decided to dig deeper. There is always an interesting story from 5th grade, I just gotta dig it out of her some days. So, decided to pull out the boyfriend card.

Last month I was driving three little people back to the house for a sleep over. One was Luke who was studiously ignoring all the giggling in the back seat.

The other two were Lexi and her friend Laura.

Turns out that day was a big one in the 5th grade. For some reason, a whole mess of little boys got the idea to ask girls out. I know, I didn't enjoy that drive back. (Insert quavering old person voice when you read this next line). Kids these days are growing SO much faster than when I was little.

Laura had been asked out and so had Lexi. A boy named Jacob. WHICH for a Twilight Team Edward Fan (Lexi, not me, I am team Jacob) I thought it might be a bit much. But no, she was happy with this whole idea and his werewolf-ish name.

Asking further questions, I learned it didn't really MEAN much. But, I still hate the concept.

So, I always like to ask every week or so if Jacob is still her boyfriend in the hopes she says, no, I don't like boys. I'd rather play with dolls.

So, anyway, the other day I asked about Jacob again.

She looked at me sadly and said Jacob had a very rough day.

Me:  Really?
Lexi:  Yup. He favorite chicken died.
Me: OH no! That is terrible. How did you make him feel better? Did you make him a sympathy card?
Lexi: (insert a look like I am retarded) NO, but I did let him put his arm around me.

ug!

Is it any wonder I turn to scrappin' to preserve bits of childhood that seem to go away so fast!?

Anyhow, a while ago I blogged about a blue dress that make me look like a blue velvet sausage. Our Christmas party was Friday night so I thought I maybe should up date you all on the event.

Incidentally I left out the world PREGNANT blue velvet sausage in an attempt to preserve some dignity. That baby went back into the mailbox lickety split to be returned for some twiggy girl to wear who is probably at least 10 years younger than me and doesn't eat. If you HAVE seen the latest Twilight, in the middle where Bella is just a bag of bones, my friend Lisa leaned over to me and said that Bella probably could wear that blue dress. Yes, she is the best kind of friend that knows how to make one feel better.

My other bestest of friends was on hand during the whole should I buy these really expensive shoes episode for the blue velvet dress. This was before I knew it was hideous. The dress that is.

While out shopping, I came across a pair of to die for heels. I am not a big shoe person. I mean, I have the ones I need. Sneaks for Zumba, boots for winter snow, boots for the woods, boots for regular...Ok, so I have a boot thing. They were expensive. Almost as much as the evil blue dress. They were the last ones, in my size and on sale. So, I texted my friend Kristy a photo and said, should I buy them. As if I needed the extra help. Of course I came home with them. But, she is a really smart girl and I know she was helping me make an important decision.

AND, in my mind since the dress went back I am seriously money ahead AND have new shoes!

Here is a pic my daughter took right before we left. Yes, it is only of me because THE MAN wouldn't be too excited about a photo. Yes, it's shaky and my eye balls are stuck open so the flash doesn't make me blink. It's shaky because Lexi was laughing so hard she couldn't hold the camera straight. See, that red scarf that I am wearing to cover up recent bruises from a game of Paint Ball was used in a previous photo to turn me into a Mommie Monster. I had it over my head and was sticking out my tongue. No, I am not sharing that photo. It scares even me. And Lexi thought it was belly laughable. Well, at least no chickens were involved.

Sunday Story: Fire Whistle

Fire Whistle

By Bruce H. Mero

It was just past noon and already the late-August heat and humidity was oppressive.  I was bored.  My best friend from sixth grade was on vacation with his mom and dad, I was stuck entertaining myself and I had run out of interesting things to do. 

Lazily, I tossed my hardball against the cinderblock wall of my Grandpa’s machine shop wall, catching the ball in my baseball glove as it returned.  I had tossed the ball a half dozen times, or so, when Grandpa Curt, holding up his trousers, stormed out of the shop and told me where he intended to put that ball if I didn’t immediately stop throwing it at his shop wall.  Apparently he was sitting on the toilet, one cinderblock width away, when my first toss hit the wall.  I had disrupted his mid-day constitution and he was not happy.  He threatened me with severe harm, shook his fist and went back inside muttering something to himself.

I learned early in my short life to avoid my Grandpa when he was mad, and it seemed that he was mad at me a lot.  Once, after a Thanksgiving meal, Grandpa, my father and an uncle or two were watching a football game on the TV when I stepped between Grandpa and the TV screen. 

“Boy,” he warned, “you’re standing in front of the TV.” 

Before the words had even reached my ears, Grandpa’s slipper bounced off the back of my head.  The men were amused.  I ran out of the room in tears. 

Grandpa Curt was a hero to his sons-in-law.  He quit school in the fifth grade and gone to work to help support his family.  He had worked a variety of jobs over the years and by the time his youngest daughter and my dad were married, he owned a small airport, several airplanes and a machine shop employing a score of machinists.  The airport and the airplanes had been sold by the time I came along, but he still worked everyday in the machine shop.  I had been warned more than once about throwing my baseball against his shop wall and had been chewed out every time I forgot about the warnings.  I seemed to forget a lot. I know he yelled at me a lot.

I wandered off into the back yard and sat down on the grass.  I was so bored that I found myself wishing for school to start.  Just then the fire whistle sounded in town, several short blasts, then several long ones.  The short and long bursts of the fire whistle were a code to tell the location of the fire in town.  I knew that the code was listed on the front page of the telephone book, so I ran inside and checked the book.  The fire was on North Willow Street.  Soon I could hear the sirens on the fire trucks heading to the fire and I wished I lived closer to town to be able to go to the fire and watch.  Then I would have something to do, I thought.

Returning to the back yard, I climbed up my favorite apple tree, picked a couple of green apples and put them into my pocket.  I sat in a crotch of branches about twenty feet above the lawn and began to eat green apples. 

The windows were open in Grandpa’s shop and I heard the telephone ring.  A minute later, Grandpa came out into the back yard and said, “Come on, boy, let’s go for a ride.” I ran to catch up with him and we jumped into his 1948 Willies Jeep.

“Where are we going, Grandpa,” I inquired, as we drove out of the driveway and sped down the street.

“North Willow,” he replied.

He paid no attention to the stop signs.  Tires screeched as we turned corners.  The engine of the Jeep whined when we bounced across the railroad tracks that separated Willow Street into north and south sections, and my head hit the ceiling of the truck.  Ahead I could see three fire trucks, two police cars and a hundred people in the street looking up into the crown of a giant Elm tree.  The Fire Department’s ladder truck was in the street and the ladder deployed up into the Elm tree about half way to the top.  I looked around for a fire, but there was nothing on fire that I could see.

We parked, unnoticed, behind a long line of cars.  Grandpa got out of the Jeep and he stared up into the Elm tree.  I looked also, but couldn’t see anything.  I had no idea what everyone was looking for up in the tree.  Finally, Grandpa seemed to spot something and he grabbed the pellet gun that he always carried behind the driver’s seat of the Jeep.  He put a pellet in the chamber, cocked it and pumped the gun six or eight times.  Leaning on the front fender of the Jeep he took aim and fired.  There was no sound, but from the top of the Elm a few leaves fluttered and a huge yellow cat came crashing through the tree as though his tail was on fire, at times running and at times he seemed to fly down the tree trunk.  I know the cat was airborne the last twenty-five feet; he smacked the ground with a thud and ran off across the street just as fast as he had come down the tree.  The entire disembarkation process had taken less than ten seconds.  During the cat’s decent, Grandpa Curt had put the pellet gun back in the Jeep and he sat in the driver’s seat.

“Let’s go, boy,” he said, as he closed the door and started the engine.

Grandpa turned the Jeep around in the street and as we drove away I could see the crowd of people looking in the direction of the retreating yellow cat.  Nobody had seen us arrive, nobody had seen Grandpa ping the cat with a pellet from his gun and no one was watching us leave.  In less than ten seconds he had accomplished what dozens of people, the City Police and the Fire Department hadn’t been able to accomplish.  Only he and I knew what possessed that cat to fly out of that Elm tree with all of those people watching.  Only us and whoever called Grandpa Curt to North Willow Street in the first place.

Grandpa had a wry smile on his face as we drove slowly back to his machine shop. He parked the Jeep in its usual spot, gave me a wink, and then went back into his shop.

Some Christmas Musings and an Altered Box

Confession time here. I am horrible at Christmas. Inherently being bad at Christmas got passed along to my kids somehow genetically. If I really think hard about why, I think we're not good at the whole thing due to everyone having birthdays in Oct. and Nov. so by the time it rolls around, everyone has their wish list filled. NOT that getting gifts is the reason for the holiday, but, let's face it. If you are 11 and 9, it is a HUGE deal still. Big people like me and THE MAN want to make it special, but wracking our brain to come up with something clever is not working for us this year. And as far as buying gifts for each other, that hasn't been done for years. We used to buy something for "the house" but having moved and leaving all those lovely specially picked out lighting fixtures it kind of lost it's interest.

Last night at supper, I brought up some small things that we could do to celebrate.

Topic one:  What kind of Christmas cookies do you want to make?

Kids:  Chocolate Chip. 

Me: Um we can make those, but we can make them anytime. Is there any other special ones you'd like?

Kids:  Blank Looks.
Me:  There are a lot of kinds of Christmas cookies besides chocolate chips....what about sugar cookies. 

Kids:  Santa eats chocolate chip cookies. 

Me:  Um, OK, but you don't believe in Santa anymore, you told me.

Gave up on that topic with the decision I was making the kind I liked and I'd just do more Zumba.

Topic two: Advent Calendar

Me:  HEY guys, I got this advent calendar I plan on making this weekend. (Yes, I am behind, but at least I'll have it done for next year.) What do you want to fill it with?

Lexi:  Gift cards to Walmart and iTunes. 

Me: Um, I was kind of thinking chocolate. 

Gave up on that idea with the theory that I would fill it with chocolate. Maybe some coupons of things they liked to do...sigh.

Topic three: THE TREE

Me: OK, well, who wants to decorate the tree? (Traditionally THE MAN and I compromise here). He detests decorating the tree, so I always offer to decorate it with the kids and he buys the gifts.

Lexi:  Can we just skip a tree this year?

Me: (twitching) Um why?

Lexi:  We always break the ornaments, and besides, think of what the cats will do to it. 

I gave up.

This incidentally is why one year the tree STAND (not the whole tree) ended up on the front lawn. I had gotten a whole passle of totes out full or ornaments and the tree stand and was trying to enlist THE MAN into helping put up the tree. The kids were LITTLE then. Super little. Like one was a baby and the oldest was too helpful. (So helpful it was the year we put a fence around the tree to keep her safe). Feeling overwhelmed and overtired, the tree stand went out the front door in a fit of anger. Of course, it is the same metal one we use today, so it just bounced. I did feel better though. 

I keep that event in the back of my mind when I get feeling the Christmas Crazies. You know, the kind you feel when you open one of those pretty magazines and the perfectly decorated cookies match the perfect tree and the whole family is wearing matching outfits? 

I did win on the stocking front though. My idea was for each family member to buy/make two thoughtful small gifts a piece for the other family members. KEY word here was thoughtful. My son told me that he was planning on getting me lipstick (he means chapstick here) and drilling a hole in it so he could attach a hook so I wouldn't keep losing it. NOW, THAT is thoughtful. 

Alright, my altered box was made to fill with goodies. Last year I made several baskets filled with locally made projects for some folks I know who also seem to have everything. I content myself buying locally and add a bit of creativity amongst the jellies and locally made chocolates and it seems to work.

Love the front of it and how cracked it turned out! This box previously housed hot coco. So, I had to peel off the label and add some color. I blogged about it previously in this POST if you would like to try something similar. 

A 12 by 12 Altered Christmas Canvas

I cannot take credit for this idea. I do LOVE it though. I spotted the idea on Less Cake {more frosting} which is always a fun read. The owner is amusing if not downright pee your pants funny, which I value almost more than her cool ideas! She has a great tutorial on how to transfer the imagine to the canvas, so I will let you wander over there if you are interested in doing this project.

I will say that the difference between what she did and what I did was that I primed my canvas using gesso for some additional texture which I believe you can see in the close up of the flowers.

Also, I didn't read the part where she said the images should be in black and white. But, I like how my turned out.

So, let me give you some steps on how I got to this point and show you the imagine I started with:

1) Prime your canvas with gesso. I use a thick bristled brush for more texture. Add lots of drying time.
2) Ink up your canvas. I skipped using paint and went straight to stamp pads.
3) For a mottled look, spray with glimmermist or alcohol in a spritzer bottle.
4) After lots of drying time iron on your image. Take your time. Breath. It will not come out perfect. That is part of the charm.
5) I used the white t-shirt transfer paper and also before I ironed on my imagine, I very carefully added a wee bit of gesso where the photo was going to give me more white. I was paranoid my image was too dark.
6) Backing up to my image, I used LoFi to get my dark edges and contrast. I was trying to match some colors so played around a bit with that too.
7) After your transfer is complete, you can add more elements. I also used modge modge glossy to go over the whole thing. The photo transfer is a bit rubbery and I didn't want it to come off.

And, I wanted a bit more flare and wanted to add some gems. But the person I am giving this canvas to isn't into a whole lotta bling, so I had to down play it a bit.

Plus, these new prima flowers came with bling in the center that were also clear. I just added some alcohol ink to it and the flourish. If you leave it on and let it dry they are "wetter" looking. If you want less, dab them off on some paper and more of the crystal shows through.

On my doily, I used a combo of alcohol inks to get that tie dye affect. And some white birch got placed in behind the flowers to add to the over all affect. I do hope she likes it.

I will say for sure this is not the last canvas I will do. I love how this turned out. Can't wait to send it out.

One homemade gift down!

Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving when you are little involves talk of Pilgrims and Indians. When you are older like me, you generally think of it as the holiday that is snuck in between Christmas and Halloween. OR, if you hunt Whitetail deer like most of the guys I know, you are inspired to put on your orange and get up early.

I am not a hunter by a long shot. I do love the woods, but sitting still someplace cold is not my thing. I do like food however. A LOT. (and venison, sorry, but it's yummy)

So, although Thanksgiving is for sure the "Thankful" Holiday where you reflect on your blessings, it is also about lots of yummy food, time off work, and to use a big word, fellowship. I am choosing with my page to focus on the food! Hence the title....It's All About the Food (& family). Not that I am not thankful, but that is an around good thing to keep in your brain all the time.

So, I'll start with my menu below.

We had turkey this year. My Dad posed special for you guys so I could get a shot of him cutting up the bird.

So, we had two different kinds of potatoes. I lobbied for sweet potatoes WITH marshmallow and brown sugar on top and won. My Mom has this THING against the green bean casserole so THAT was not on the menu. Her green beans were from the garden, so needed no extra help.

Dessert was awesome. I made the pie with apples Shirley cut up off our trees (OH MY they were good) and some pumpkin cupcakes. I adapted a recipe I got off Allison's blog that looked yummy. Mine were without the cool whip since I like making whip cream frosting from heavy cream. I also used a white cake. Mine were pretty cute but I didn't get a photo for some reason. Maybe it was the five kids I had running around while baking?

AND, the banana pudding is a Pratt FAVORITE. Seriously. It's off the Nilla Wafer box or was years ago. I had to google it to find it when I was making it. And, why is my text above in purple for the word "Banana Pudding" don't ask. It was right after I sprayed some glimmermist and it didn't flick but went over my ENTIRE printed out photo of our Thanksgiving table. Had a small melt down. AND then decided I didn't care.

How do you like that table? It's pretty with some bittersweet my parents picked on the farm. Notice the place mats? They have been in our family since I was little and were from when my parents were in the Peace Corps.

Here is close up of the oak leaves I ran through my Big Shot. Lisa at You Made Me Ink came up with that idea. Sadly it was after our leaves were mostly dried up and gone, so I had to hunt down some leaves that would work. These oak leaves were at my parent's house and were pretty dry so I went through a stack until I got two that held together. Then I sprayed them carefully and stuck them down! Phew!







































My little burgundy gems were dyed! I can't wait to show you. Tomorrow I will throw together a very small tutorial. And the flower is from Helen. It has been just waiting for me to use it and somehow it matches.







































And two last photos to leave you with now that I am officially moving past Thanksgiving and into the start of the Christmas season. We took our pumpkins out back to feed the wildlife. I had already frozen one for pie and these got hit with an unexpected snow so were starting to get mushy. They are now a good start to a feast for the squirrels and mice. We also gave them a helping hand by shooting them full of holes! NO, I am not normally dragged along for these events although it's almost a tradition in my family to shoot pumpkins after Thanksgiving. BUT, my hubby said he would scrapbook a page IF I shot his new gun. Fine. Fine. Fine!

It was easy. No big deal. Pratt on the other had did not enjoy his foray into scrappin'. He found four or five of his favorite photos containing dead deer and opted to try to create something digital. He said with disdain that he really didn't want to touch PAPER! Was it perhaps because I gave him the option of four or five different kinds of adhesive and it look him over an hour to navigate through Picasa to find the photos he wanted? And I didn't even bring out any glitter! I am still waiting for his page. Should it emerge at some point I will be SURE to share it. After all, I shot the gun!