Bizzy Day

So, it's almost midnight and I finally get to do what I want to do. Oh the joys of self employment.

Made knobs and pendants like a mad woman all day, then went to the airport post office. Oh my stars, I am so glad I didn't have anything going out of the U.S. There were at least 30 peeps in line, and since it's the airport PO (think Twilight Zone), only two clerks working. I just put my stuff in the box and beat feet out of there.

I had time to make a quick trip to Michaels. Did $17.00 worth of damage. I discovered when I was paying that the store would be open till 10:30, instead of the usual 9:00. And on Friday night they are staying open until midnight. Those poor employees.

A Christmas Memory ~ 2007

What a time for my camera to go on the fritz. I shall have to use my superior literary skills *ha* to compensate. Christmas 2007 we had some extra money. I wanted to make it a very special Christmas for my husband. Geoff was the oldest of five kids and his family didn't have a lot of money. At the age of nine he was cooking dinner and helping to care for his siblings. I know he went to bed hungry many times.

I was raised at the other end of the spectrum. My father was a dentist in Beverly Hills. But both he and my mother struggled and worked for everything they had. They raised my sister and I to do the same. Even though Geoff and I had completely different childhoods monetarily, we were both taught that the most important things in life are not things at all. We are able to live quite happily without new cars or fancy vacations, or clothes bought at the mall. Not to say that my chocolate and scrapbooking budgets are not larger than they should be, but I digress big time.

The photo you see is of the fireplace in our family room. The Christmas tree was at the other side of the room. All of the gifts in front of the fireplace were for Geoff. I searched my brain, and the internet, to find things that he never got as a child. Christmas 2007 he received two Coast Guard ship model kits, a remote control helicopter, lots of warm clothes, an eight pound box of nuts and candy from Sees, other gourmet type foods, slippers from LL Bean, and a bunch of other things I cannot remember.

In the house that morning with Geoff and I were Sara (his daughter) and Jacob (my son) and of course, Jessie and Juneau. Jacob (at the time age 13) wrote his own lyrics and sung them to the tune of Silent Night. His song was about how much he loved Geoff and how Geoff deserved all these gifts. Jacob insisted on hiding behind the Christmas tree and began to sing as Sara and I led a blindfolded Geoff into the room.

I know it sounds corny, but the look on my husband's face was the best gift of all. Christmas 2007 is a day I will never forget.

A Good Bra = A Good Day

Today was a good day. I put on a brand spankin' new bra and feel like I could take on the world. The girls are riding high!

My buddy-ette Tracy opened the mini album I made for her, and unless she is lying, she liked it. She opened it on video, and being able to see her reaction was so heartwarming. I am just beginning to make my own videos. It's cool to think of how technology is able to connect people from all over the world. I marvel at today's technology because large parts of my mind live in the 1860's. Laura Ingalls Wilder days. You didn't read it wrong :).

Yesterday my son, who is in 11th grade, went back to visit the folks at his Middle School. He misses them, and considers his years there to be some of his best. He's a deep thinker. Wonder where he got that from...lol. Today he told me how much he appreciates the advantages (i.e., Christian school) that he's had, and how even though he doesn't have the newest or name brand clothes, he has so much more than that. He has gone from whining about not having his own car, to being thankful he has a car to drive (mine) almost any time he wants.

I didn't do much work today, and that equals no pain. I'll start working after I finish this post, but that's okay. God is in His heaven and has my Mama with Him. I have a wonderful husband and son, good friends, and a nice new bra.

The Art of Kenna

My son's girlfriend Kenna drew this for him. Drew it free hand. Didn't trace it or anything. She blows me away with her talent, and with the depth of her faith. She isn't yet 16 years old, but she has an old soul and is wise way beyond her years.

Jacob wants to have something similar to this drawing tattooed on his arm (once he turns 18 of course). The subject of tattoos was the only subject he ever challenged his beloved grandmother on. She was against them, citing Biblical references to not marking up one's body and not calling attention to one's self. Jacob argued that his tattoo would be a sign of his allegiance to the Lord. It was sweet to hear them debating back and forth. In the end Jacob took me aside and told me he would be getting a tattoo, whether she approved or not :).

Sleeping with Chocolate

Yep, you read that right. Reese's peanut butter cups to be exact. The miniature ones. I was taking a nap on the living room sofa the other day, with my loyal Snow Dog lying on the floor right next to the couch. I woke up (or so I thought) as my son walked through the room. I asked him to bring me a couple of the peanut butter cups. He obliged, and that's all I remember. Until I woke up again and immediately went into panic mode. My peanut butter cups!! Where are they? I didn't eat them. Please, please, oh please don't let them have melted all over my late mother's ivory colored sofa.

I put my hand on my thigh (I sleep on my side) and found one of the cups balanced there. It was still wrapped and that was a good thing since the chocolate had melted into a squishy blob inside the wrapper. The other peanut butter cup was nowhere to be found. I looked at Juneau, who was waking from his nap. And then it hit me. I just needed to sit quietly and wait. Sure enough, not 15 seconds later his super sensitive nose had located the cup underneath the couch. I retrieved the candy and of course gave it to him as his reward.

Now you must remember, we aren't talking about a piece of raw (or cooked) meat here. We are talking about one small piece of candy, wrapped, hiding under a couch at least two feet away from his line of smell.

Dogs fascinate me, and I make no apologies for that. From Juneau and his super sonic nose, to Jessie putting her paw in her mouth to try to dislodge something from a back tooth. Dogs are a woman's best friend, and then some.

Mom Taxi and Parental Payback

I had Mom Taxi duty today. Something that rarely happens now that Jacob has his own license. First picked him up at his friend's house (he spent the night), then we drove to his girlfriend Kenna's house to get her, then we drove to my Baby Daddy's house. The BD was at work, and his wife is in the hospital. They needed Jacob (and Kenna) to let their four dogs out. I could have gone inside and raided the fridge, but their dogs are of the small, hyper and yappy variety. Staying in the car in the 30 degree weather and cutting out decals was a much better choice for me. After the dog duty was complete, I drove home and shortly thereafter Jacob and Kenna departed for the movies. Told you that story to tell you this one:

I parked in Kenna's driveway and waited as Jacob went to the door. He disappeared inside the house and was gone for a very long time. I mean, a long time. So long I turned off the engine. Kenna's father is extremely protective and I had visions of him and Jacob "discussing" whether Kenna could leave with him/us at all. I got tired of waiting and wondering, and honked the horn. Viola, out they came!

Kenna gets in the front seat but doesn't say one word to me. Jacob gets in the back and says hello. No explanation, no apology for the long wait. Hey, I gave them a chance. Then I went into full Mom Mode and Jacob said she wasn't ready on time and he was "already mad at her for that." No big deal and it wouldn't have bothered me had I not had a long history with my son and his incredible ability to keep me waiting. It was a silent ride to the BD's house and home from there.

We walked in the front door and Jacob remarked to Kenna, "I still can't believe your Dad is letting me take you to a movie." I said, "That's cause he doesn't know you're the tongue bandit." Jacob turned and began to walk down the hall, muttering "I did not just hear that." Hmmm, trying to be considerate, I repeated it, louder. Kenna was giggling as she followed him down the hall.

Parental payback....it's good stuff!

Embrace Chaos ** NOT

I made this ATC a few years ago. I thought my creative clutter was a good thing. I laughed about it, made myself the subject of jokes about it, and tried my best to ignore the truth. To me, words like "organized" and "orderly" and sayings like "a place for everything and everything in its place" were synonymous with "anal" and "uptight" and yes, high blood pressure. And for some who take it too far, well...they end up anal and uptight, with high blood pressure, and divorced. I made a much better choice of husbands the second time around.

I started to make ATC's after the car accident in 2006. Prior to that my creative outlet was writing. I found that immersing myself in the world of altered art took me away from the pain. And so began the accumulation of what we all refer to as our stashes. The discovery of the scrapbooking community on YouTube in August 2010, and the move of my craft room/office from the third bedroom to the master bedroom in February 2011 has been the source of many warm and fuzzy feelings, along with....chaos.

Chaos has now taken over. Chaos is breathing down my neck, jabbing me in the back, and shoving me along in everything but creative ways. I have "stuff" all over my house. And I've created such an unorganized mess that I now feel completely overwhelmed by it. As in, I don't know where to begin and even if I did, would things stay in their place after I found them one. Yep, let's announce this to the world on my blog. The truth hurts, and I need to face it.

The truth hit me like a Mack truck this week. And it was disguised in two creative projects I had been working on for a long time. Two Halloween mini albums. One for a swap and the other for a gift. My supplies had drifted from my room to the dining room and then out to the family room. With a few scattered in the living room and kitchen for good measure. As the mess got larger, so did my anxiety. And my anxiety was literally paralyzing me. I would work on a project for 20 minutes and then feel as if I couldn't breathe. I'm not the sharpest tool in the shed and it took me a while to put all the pieces together.

I do have enough space for all my "stuff." I just need to really think about what I use most often and where is the best place to keep it. And when I finish with something, I need to put it back. AND, most important since I'm a digger when I'm searching for an item, I need to be an orderly and organized digger. Not the kind who throws things over their shoulder till they find what they want, and just walks away.

I am going to brainstorm with my husband, a very orderly person who actually possesses an attention span. I will see what he thinks is the best way to "eat this elephant." And I will take lots of deep breaths through my nose. I can do it. I can make chaos a thing of the past.

Happy Birthday Mama

Donna (Dorian) Marie Ferguson Heisner, born December 1, 1930 in Vancouver, British Columbia. Died June 7, 2011 in Newport Beach, California.

I think about my mother every day. I always have and I always will. I know she is with her Lord. I know she was more than ready to go. She looked forward to dying, because she knew it meant eternal life with God. She anticipated her journey home the way one might anticipate a long-awaited vacation.

I have thought many times today, how birthdays are no longer a concern of hers. This leads me on to thoughts of how much of our lives we spend worrying about things, which in the big picture, have no meaning at all.

The world is a much different place without you Mama. Your family loves and misses you.