tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31613281387845524362024-02-18T22:16:28.317-08:00selahestelleselahestellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08827485557146948883noreply@blogger.comBlogger51125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3161328138784552436.post-51642376174701266252010-11-15T17:52:00.000-08:002010-11-20T20:41:18.919-08:00We're Stuffed!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTgXIqqIEG15fGqmTdouEF55aAhOLCgo3Z8YTxwbis3Fvu877jibOc0fpx9krSldt_cgZL9rcZ0E-teenBouY4a1gPBXqK-doTWcTkfG7wF7DnHcJ6c7Bboem5nd84QCHMQC2VH4gWcvFY/s1600/stuffed+3.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539970241154901122" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTgXIqqIEG15fGqmTdouEF55aAhOLCgo3Z8YTxwbis3Fvu877jibOc0fpx9krSldt_cgZL9rcZ0E-teenBouY4a1gPBXqK-doTWcTkfG7wF7DnHcJ6c7Bboem5nd84QCHMQC2VH4gWcvFY/s320/stuffed+3.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxzpJVoxw1anPzDrrs2uB_X-UOpv_QQr1BhOjTAJJ8f_FTJBJbUaanunQCrIUTSGgzAEmGEMv2L6jrQkyPTT-7Wq8rc2fMMygIIm3DVvkIh2UbhoTQrWWNOgLKMNdk8KMOVLXbcUEkgk5T/s1600/stuffed1.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539970239598017826" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxzpJVoxw1anPzDrrs2uB_X-UOpv_QQr1BhOjTAJJ8f_FTJBJbUaanunQCrIUTSGgzAEmGEMv2L6jrQkyPTT-7Wq8rc2fMMygIIm3DVvkIh2UbhoTQrWWNOgLKMNdk8KMOVLXbcUEkgk5T/s320/stuffed1.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxM23S8r4Yd-upOXjK5lC74qBMVZhpF8wapKVDHfTauVFbpxvShAmjskpBzocRwPAnz8f48ES1hth73P9qJ3ejB5AMhNv_ooo9ktn6Le9qAL5MDKs9XeavQVETfb4bEWq2km7Rqa30CFvT/s1600/stuffed.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539970226836153794" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxM23S8r4Yd-upOXjK5lC74qBMVZhpF8wapKVDHfTauVFbpxvShAmjskpBzocRwPAnz8f48ES1hth73P9qJ3ejB5AMhNv_ooo9ktn6Le9qAL5MDKs9XeavQVETfb4bEWq2km7Rqa30CFvT/s320/stuffed.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>We always have plenty on our plates (so to speak) but are loving taking the extra time to set up productive play dates with a fellow stay at home mom to create personalized holiday tees for the kiddos.</div><br /><div>For our Thanksgiving project, I will admit, I saw the words "I'm stuffed" on a onesie for baby's first Thanksgiving, so it is not an original idea. What is original is that we decided it would be extra cute to combine the words with a handprint turkey. (Isn't any handprint project extra cute?)</div><br /><div>I did two matching ones for Dicey and her little cousin. I picked brown because there were very few color choices in the infant sizes of blank onesies/shirts and I wanted she and Dicey to match, so it was the one I could find in both their sizes that was Thanksgiving-y. It was a little bit of a hard choice because one typically does a handprint turkey with brown paint. I chose grey as the base color for the turkey's body, as I was going for a somewhat realistic turkey look.</div><br /><div>The other moms had lime green and dark purple tees, so they went with the colors that worked for them. It was really fun to see how different they all were and what individual character the actual handprints imparted to the little turkeys. We used acrylic paint (some in squeezy bottles) handpainted and stamped. We used the top of an exclamation point to make a feather shape to fill in between the fingers. One of the moms husbands was over and helped watch all the kids play. Everyone had a great time and now we also have cute shirts for the holiday!</div></div>selahestellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08827485557146948883noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3161328138784552436.post-60064716943717566022010-10-13T13:09:00.000-07:002010-10-13T13:15:47.518-07:00BIG CHANGES!!!This blogge has <b>moved </b>and<b> transformed</b> and selahestelle will now be found at<div><br /></div><div><b><a href="http://www.meandherings.blogspot.com/">www.meandherings.blogspot.com</a></b><div><div><b><a href="http://www.etsy.com/people/meandher">www.meandher.etsy.com</a></b></div><div><br /></div><div>My twin sister and I have decided that with our powers combined, we will have a better blogge and shoppe to send out into the world. Two heads are better than one, no?</div><div>So, for my small but loyal band of followers, I entreat you to check me out at these new sites if you want to see what I'm up to these days. Thank you so much to everyone for reading and commenting when I took the time to post. It really does mean a lot.</div></div></div>selahestellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08827485557146948883noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3161328138784552436.post-47977646480508452032010-04-01T21:25:00.000-07:002010-04-01T22:25:33.474-07:00Hooray for Tom Tierney!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH4R3nCqewdCWV0OzSR0O0y6wQSeCoZb4vlsHEOaRGHld7KGvM-E0IRHJaUajRlwdZQPWZmhLSYMauRdPuD9ZromtRjf74aaxzb2-fpwMv0QH2P2O7yPei3b2nCVL_A2oxs6ii6KqcaeVn/s1600/IMG_4826.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH4R3nCqewdCWV0OzSR0O0y6wQSeCoZb4vlsHEOaRGHld7KGvM-E0IRHJaUajRlwdZQPWZmhLSYMauRdPuD9ZromtRjf74aaxzb2-fpwMv0QH2P2O7yPei3b2nCVL_A2oxs6ii6KqcaeVn/s320/IMG_4826.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455395086862540546" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Times New Roman', fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I recently went to the much anticipated </span><a href="http://www.texaspaperdollparty.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Paper Doll Party</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> in Smithville hosted by the amazing and gracious </span><a href="http://www.tomtierney.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Tom Tierney</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> and his niece which I learned about upon first meeting Tom, blogged <a href="http://selahestelle.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-met-tom-tierney.html">here</a>. It did not disappoint!</span></span><br /><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 16.0px; font: 18.0px Times New Roman">Tom works in a studio that has been fashioned out of the upstairs portion of an old retail space that was built in the 1890s. The 2nd level was for fancy dresses and bridal and whatnot, and the building has an amazing central staircase so the young lady could make a grand entrance to her eagerly awaiting entourage. It has all the original hardwood floors and the staircase has never been refinished! The first floor is a cozy shop space (despite the impressive square footage behind the designated retail area) with every Tom Tierney bit of merchandise any paper doll lover could ever hope for, most of it already signed!</p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 16.0px; font: 18.0px Times New Roman"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 16.0px; font: 18.0px Times New Roman">Tom was giving personal tours of his studio space, which was the highlight of our entire trip! First off, just being in the company of such an accomplished and storied gentlemen is a treat on it's own, but getting to see where he works and his incredible collection of antique oddities sends the experience over the edge.</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 16.0px; font: 18.0px Times New Roman">He showed us an amazing music box, super old that played songs from larger than LP metal discs with holes in them that spun much like a record player, but much older technology obviously. There was a drawer underneath that held the discs.</p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 16.0px; font: 18.0px Times New Roman"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, fantasy;font-size:16px;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1gJdrgccp1QNQe4406xlW1_JP4-YBw-QHediWfTm3MDeGi5WassObis6U5CacjxaQbimbVpA3trX759BowfeSg5cjk-NFGUqQ9ogEUEWuo0V3Jif81Hu0xTiSQe8bbPMkYJb3MtkoTSlL/s1600/musicbox.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1gJdrgccp1QNQe4406xlW1_JP4-YBw-QHediWfTm3MDeGi5WassObis6U5CacjxaQbimbVpA3trX759BowfeSg5cjk-NFGUqQ9ogEUEWuo0V3Jif81Hu0xTiSQe8bbPMkYJb3MtkoTSlL/s320/musicbox.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455395071937440546" style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 16.0px; font: 18.0px Times New Roman">Next to the music box was a delightful wooden mannequin; Tom told us it was from the 1700s, was built entirely of wood (no nails anywhere, just wooden pegs) and was used by artists for portraits. They would borrow clothes from their subject, pad out the mannequin and use that for reference until all that was left was the face, which was the only part the person had to sit for. How practical! I didn't know they did this, and I actually always wondered a little about it. Thanks Tom!</p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 16.0px; font: 18.0px Times New Roman"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, fantasy;font-size:16px;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVi4CZhrOIs6tMFGDDGIpGZMxustlJW2AZoE9e0uiZqVfvUUPkf2-TUBvlaMa7SWeOVGhh-4HYP2a5NsdPSbe_7h7RU0aUYGRDMFP9ZlhsqW7Xzwnb_Lxd24kPv-eiGLB278Mgu5U-Sthe/s1600/mannequin.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVi4CZhrOIs6tMFGDDGIpGZMxustlJW2AZoE9e0uiZqVfvUUPkf2-TUBvlaMa7SWeOVGhh-4HYP2a5NsdPSbe_7h7RU0aUYGRDMFP9ZlhsqW7Xzwnb_Lxd24kPv-eiGLB278Mgu5U-Sthe/s320/mannequin.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455393326035681714" style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 16.0px; font: 18.0px Times New Roman"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, fantasy;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVi4CZhrOIs6tMFGDDGIpGZMxustlJW2AZoE9e0uiZqVfvUUPkf2-TUBvlaMa7SWeOVGhh-4HYP2a5NsdPSbe_7h7RU0aUYGRDMFP9ZlhsqW7Xzwnb_Lxd24kPv-eiGLB278Mgu5U-Sthe/s1600/mannequin.JPG"></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Times New Roman', fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">He had a beautiful peacock stained glass piece, which I unfortunately didn't get a picture of</span></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 16.0px; font: 18.0px Times New Roman">:( and the whole area was set up like a parlor or sitting room. (The best one ever!) He had framed originals of his own work, along with a SIGNED poster from Erte' dedicated to Tom personally! He was able to meet the man in person in his younger days, having done a paper doll book in his style and seeking approval for publishing rights. Erte' was charmed and later sent him the poster. Gasp!</p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 16.0px; font: 18.0px Times New Roman"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, fantasy;font-size:16px;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9fI4AVXNuazuyYklC30xbhK23IrBgHSX9G4F2UxegMYUC1F1OTVdYxQHZA1TH4qUFPBy6vps6eyLaG7tVzfnY6brrvu2cFjL1OIisqiSwPb-pYQaSDUIehrZzSFveUho8rpzTq-9-Pnvo/s1600/erte.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9fI4AVXNuazuyYklC30xbhK23IrBgHSX9G4F2UxegMYUC1F1OTVdYxQHZA1TH4qUFPBy6vps6eyLaG7tVzfnY6brrvu2cFjL1OIisqiSwPb-pYQaSDUIehrZzSFveUho8rpzTq-9-Pnvo/s320/erte.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455393297417570626" style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 16.0px; font: 18.0px Times New Roman">One of the things I noticed was a large embroidery/cross stitch piece mounted in a frame that sat on the floor, and was about 5 feet tall. It was a pastoral scene with dogs and flowers. I love needlework history, so I asked about it. Tom told us the object was known as a "sincere" and was in vogue when women's cosmetics were largely comprised of wax, used as a shield between the heat of a fireplace and any ladies that were in the room, so as not to melt all their hard work! </p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 16.0px; font: 18.0px Times New Roman"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 16.0px; font: 18.0px Times New Roman">Bryan's favorite had to be a small table that looked simple enough at first, but we came to find it had quite a story to tell. Tom happily told us that he had only read about them for the longest time and was thrilled to finally own what he referred to as a "Witch's Chair". For those witches back in the day, who, obviously, could not flaunt their witchy ways, it masqueraded as a mild-mannered table during the day, but by night...flip the table top part up and a chair with an wide, arched back is revealed. (Not to mention the wee beastie complete with yellow eyes carved into the underside so that it is a little witchy surprise!) The perfect thing for all your seances and witch meetings where you really want to make an impression.</p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 16.0px; font: 18.0px Times New Roman"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, fantasy;font-size:16px;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUROapcwD2sdLXowecP1Tjhyphenhyphenzf4nTBGCaoHlzgSiFyFWaNxY1o6RkwMHbhBitwkmqDzoirkb6cD_Ia8aur4x_0ab4zmJZlEl_91dtQwczchUJN9Gv9godBC8akZuznszkysXXFbgbmkqSK/s1600/witchchair.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUROapcwD2sdLXowecP1Tjhyphenhyphenzf4nTBGCaoHlzgSiFyFWaNxY1o6RkwMHbhBitwkmqDzoirkb6cD_Ia8aur4x_0ab4zmJZlEl_91dtQwczchUJN9Gv9godBC8akZuznszkysXXFbgbmkqSK/s320/witchchair.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455395083561734210" style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 16.0px; font: 18.0px Times New Roman">He also showed me some of the prints and originals that he's currently working on. He's sending a proposal to <a href="http://ellen.warnerbros.com/">Ellen</a> and <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0005577/">Portia</a> with their ensembles from their <a href="http://www.newsweek.com/id/157556">wedding</a> and different awards shows. I can't imagine anyone not wanting Tom to do a paper doll version of them. His work is so true-to-life and idealized/finessed at the same time. He makes everyone look glamorous! I got to see some original oil paintings he was working on too. It's amazing being in anyone's creative work space, and getting to be in Tom's with him was an experience I will never forget.</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 16.0px; font: 18.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 21.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, fantasy;font-size:16px;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiosMWwCcXiTaJi25sD6VCkPqquZw7e-xHRX0bfgok2e9461vbEBBBFhYdSm2wQ9Y4YKomDDpIrKyGFNrICxNpNekMCHqL8mEJZjgiGb-dkgt1pKZjDA3iTmLY2R8-8r6H_68LCZjaIO_6C/s1600/ellen.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiosMWwCcXiTaJi25sD6VCkPqquZw7e-xHRX0bfgok2e9461vbEBBBFhYdSm2wQ9Y4YKomDDpIrKyGFNrICxNpNekMCHqL8mEJZjgiGb-dkgt1pKZjDA3iTmLY2R8-8r6H_68LCZjaIO_6C/s320/ellen.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455393313670405618" style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 202px; " /></a></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 16.0px; font: 18.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 21.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, fantasy;font-size:16px;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiosMWwCcXiTaJi25sD6VCkPqquZw7e-xHRX0bfgok2e9461vbEBBBFhYdSm2wQ9Y4YKomDDpIrKyGFNrICxNpNekMCHqL8mEJZjgiGb-dkgt1pKZjDA3iTmLY2R8-8r6H_68LCZjaIO_6C/s1600/ellen.JPG"></a></span>We also received hefty gift bags and souvenirs for coming, packed aplenty with glorious paper dolls! The actual "Paper Doll Party" was a group of vendors selling PDD and PDD related items; mostly older ladies with some collectibles, some nostalgia and some original works. Bryan found me <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/She-Ra">She-Ra</a> and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Katy_Keene">Katy Keene</a> paper doll books (yee-haw!). I bought an 80's Barbie coloring book, a twin set of colonial paper dolls, two fat-quarters of adorable paper doll pattern fabric and a few other little goodies. I was also pleased to see a previous co-worker of mine vending her super cute <a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop/FabLifePaperDolls">wares</a>!</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 16.0px; font: 18.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 21.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, fantasy;font-size:16px;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqgKAkyhZ4QRa8_tIYAEWr5uDaaSw7x9JgIyjm4wxNYGt1fUtqZeisUqhzeJtqQ2By2mP9ubiJ49WeN4fiF_ZB_ks2kE4_cdR8y75EvF9RRLgQUAYELyG3aM55Sgs3IIzPQV8r3UN1KGj7/s1600/haul.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqgKAkyhZ4QRa8_tIYAEWr5uDaaSw7x9JgIyjm4wxNYGt1fUtqZeisUqhzeJtqQ2By2mP9ubiJ49WeN4fiF_ZB_ks2kE4_cdR8y75EvF9RRLgQUAYELyG3aM55Sgs3IIzPQV8r3UN1KGj7/s320/haul.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455393304640037058" style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 16.0px; font: 18.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 21.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, fantasy;font-size:16px;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqgKAkyhZ4QRa8_tIYAEWr5uDaaSw7x9JgIyjm4wxNYGt1fUtqZeisUqhzeJtqQ2By2mP9ubiJ49WeN4fiF_ZB_ks2kE4_cdR8y75EvF9RRLgQUAYELyG3aM55Sgs3IIzPQV8r3UN1KGj7/s1600/haul.JPG"></a></span>We had a great time also at the luncheon which was made by Tom's great niece. It was held in the rec center of the town and I want everyone to notice the dummy in the corner; it's the kind that you beat up for self defense or martial arts. <span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'Times New Roman', -webkit-fantasy;">You've gotta love a small town. It actually kind of works for a doll theme too, so that's a bonus. :D*<span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'Times New Roman', fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, fantasy;font-size:16px;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8jPhyphenhyphenzUhCLx-QbHP1wrQtk8OED-9GCM5lAvF-VqEDcsqiB-Upg6FSRzp289CTfMU9cYIT5f1KlIwsok__yidy_msf026gg9AzNgyTV5siO4dpAdoD9i8WPVEc3XGu6YZVa2-4sNY_skrn/s1600/lunch.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8jPhyphenhyphenzUhCLx-QbHP1wrQtk8OED-9GCM5lAvF-VqEDcsqiB-Upg6FSRzp289CTfMU9cYIT5f1KlIwsok__yidy_msf026gg9AzNgyTV5siO4dpAdoD9i8WPVEc3XGu6YZVa2-4sNY_skrn/s320/lunch.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455393317638491154" style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></span> </span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 16.0px; font: 18.0px Times New Roman"><br /></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 16.0px; font: 18.0px Times New Roman">Also included in the ticket price was a "train tour of Smithville", which was actually a short trolly jaunt to the two houses in town that have been settings for movie filming. (<a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0119313/">Hope Floats</a> and <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0478304/">Tree of Life</a>). An utterly charming event, all told.</p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 16.0px; font: 18.0px Times New Roman"><br /></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 16.0px; font: 18.0px Times New Roman"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, fantasy;font-size:16px;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV2IfsKt3bRsZTNkw8g2RqmJnjnrKDoigkV6QwZR5wO7MrBmOQgbGbeDEg57VN9yv_MChlOG54hjM7TVLFCvwpMdBRgLwYDA33tn7__Y2MyzdJVVd0wdBjJy5Yb7BPZx-ImpfeZs2b9mTW/s1600/trolleyfam.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV2IfsKt3bRsZTNkw8g2RqmJnjnrKDoigkV6QwZR5wO7MrBmOQgbGbeDEg57VN9yv_MChlOG54hjM7TVLFCvwpMdBRgLwYDA33tn7__Y2MyzdJVVd0wdBjJy5Yb7BPZx-ImpfeZs2b9mTW/s320/trolleyfam.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455395077333532418" style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></span></p>selahestellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08827485557146948883noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3161328138784552436.post-69937007818345463642010-03-20T14:08:00.000-07:002010-03-20T16:35:13.245-07:00If you give a SAHM a vanilla bean...<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">My wonderful mother-in-law presented me with some whole vanilla beans as a present this past Christmas. I was delighted, as I had been having wistful thoughts already about what I would do with such an ingredient. The ones I received were from the lovely Penzey's spices company, from which we also received some fabulous cooking spice blends that we have to replenish as they are all used up!</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">My husband loves vanilla. I'm a fan, but am more of a chocolate person. Reading up on vanilla and ultimate recipes and true appreciation and what not, I came across a </span><a href="http://www.hungryinhogtown.com/hungry_in_hogtown/2006/04/feel_like_makin.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">blog</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> that posed what was deemed as the definitive question for those of us who are not sure where we stand on such an issue: <i>"</i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 19px; font-family:'Trebuchet MS', Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>if confronted, decide whether you'd choose a bowl of best quality vanilla or chocolate ice cream, and "both" is not an acceptable answer."</i></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Trebuchet MS', Verdana, sans-serif;color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I think this is a pretty good test, but I can see how some folks would disagree, vanilla ice cream is just so basic a representation of the flavor and ties in with a lot of nostalgia for most folks. It doesn't really play fair. I think I would still pick chocolate though. How about you?</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Trebuchet MS', Verdana, sans-serif;color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Trebuchet MS', Verdana, sans-serif;color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">At any rate, I wanted to make the most of my vanilla boon and proceeded to research what I thought would be some ultimate expressions of vanilla recipes.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Trebuchet MS', Verdana, sans-serif;color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Trebuchet MS', Verdana, sans-serif;color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I naturally went with vanilla ice cream first, thinking that if we really loved it, I could just make more with the rest of the beans, as the recipe only called for two and I had four. </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 19px; font-family:'Trebuchet MS', Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I settled on Alton Brown's </span><a href="http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/alton-brown/serious-vanilla-ice-cream-recipe/index.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">version</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">, though the recipe as transcribed does not match the recipe if you watch the show segment. It makes a difference! </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 19px; font-family:'Trebuchet MS', Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">This ice cream was great, but not the ultimate expression of vanilla that I was looking for. The husk of the beans were leftover and I'd read in my research that you could make vanilla sugar with just the husk, so I set that aside for a few weeks (it doesn't take that long, but I figured it wouldn't hurt!).</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Trebuchet MS', Verdana, sans-serif;color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 19px; font-family:'Trebuchet MS', Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">T</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 19px; font-family:'Trebuchet MS', Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">he </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); line-height: normal; font-family:Georgia, fantasy;"><a href="http://www.grouprecipes.com/96050/vanilla-bean-loaf-cakes.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Vanilla Loaf</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> that was so lauded in the aforementioned blog (I halved the recipe) called for vanilla sugar, so I figured this loaf's time had come this morning when I felt the need to cook. It tastes great and was easy enough to make, but the texture of the cake is not my favorite.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, -webkit-fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 19px; font-family:'Trebuchet MS', Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); line-height: normal; font-family:Georgia, fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Now, you think to yourselves, well that's all the beans, what else could this have led to? The loaf called for a vanilla syrup to be made, and there was leftover - which I couldn't just throw out. I had thoughts of sweetening tea or some other beverage with it, like my sister does, but I also felt that the cake needed something to accompany it. (Ice cream!) </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, -webkit-fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, -webkit-fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I didn't want to go out and buy any, and I didn't have the ingredients in house. But I did have the ingredients to make frozen yogurt! So the syrup was used quite successfully in a frozen yogurt (vanilla) and I still have half a bean left! My ultimate vanilla dreams have not been realized; whatever shall I do now? :D* </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, -webkit-fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, -webkit-fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div></div>selahestellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08827485557146948883noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3161328138784552436.post-3354899590334906932010-03-18T21:10:00.000-07:002010-03-18T22:04:15.508-07:00InspiradoWhen my daughter decided to wake up from her nap super early, my husband had the idea to go to a little old cemetery that is close to our house, <a href="http://http//www.rootsweb.ancestry.com/~txwcgs/cemeteryinfo/PondSprings.htm">Pond Springs Cemetery</a>. I used to go when I was younger and feeling very sensitive and artsy with my friends and do rubbings and think soulfully and what not, but had not been since.<br /><br />I had forgotten how many children's graves there are in this particular graveyard and it hit me especially hard now that I'm a mother of a 15 month old, imagining what life must have been like for mothers long ago who had to accept their childrens' mortality as a fact of life.<br />Most of the graves that drew my attention were from the 1870s-1920, partly because I was obviously attracted to the oldest stones for their aesthetic, but also because there were so many. It was really sad and made me want to do something to honor the women and children, which I know is silly, but as a mother, I felt oddly responsible for their memories, even though they are strangers to me.<br /><br />I started to brainstorm about the thoughts and emotions swirling around in my head. Am still not sure what will come of it, but, at the very least, I'm pursuing more information and finding inspiration.<br />Doing research about the time period organically led me to my long standing love of embroidery history. Having always been curious about the history of <a href="http://http//www.antiquesamplers.com/">embroidery samplers</a>, I was really interested to come upon <a href="http://http//www.quiltersmuse.com/Samplers.htm">samplers</a> that served as memorials as well as a quote from Shakespeare's Titus Andronicus: "Fair Philomel, she but lost her tongue And in a tedious <a href="http://http//www.creativepoppypatterns.com/latest-pattern-news-antique-samplers-pxl-43.html">Sampler</a> sewed her mind."<br /><br />Just imagining the lives of these women that I strive in vain to be more like with my bread-making and craftiness humbles me and makes me so grateful for the life I'm privileged to lead.<br /><br />Anyway, I'm a little consumed right now with <a href="http://http//www.shakespearespeddler.com/symbol.html">symbolism</a> and sisterhood, thought I would share.selahestellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08827485557146948883noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3161328138784552436.post-16467807580110648292010-03-12T10:22:00.000-08:002010-03-12T11:02:10.600-08:00Fashion Backward!I think I’ve inadvertently started a collection of fashion/grooming/etiquette books from the 50s & 60s. I just love every one I see.<br /><p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Even though it’s a lot of the same information and concepts, they’re all a little different and charming in their own ways. It reminds me of when I read every book in my elementary school library about Helen Keller and Harriet Tubman. I loved finding the small details unique to each version.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in">In these days when Home Economics classes are basically relics, I’m fascinated by a time (not that long ago) when our culture had such a regulated idea of attractiveness and hygiene. On one hand, as my readers will already know, I think we have paid a hefty price for taking these concepts out of curriculum and propriety. On the other hand, I’m not sure what I would have done in high school/college/now if I weren't able to dress/present myself the way I chose. In many ways, I wish that we retained more of the formality from days of yore, but I do enjoy the freedoms and individual expression/diversity we have now. At any rate, I love everything about these books.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in">My most recent acquisition: <u>Dress: The Clothing Textbook (Third Edition</u>). </p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Favorite quote so far: <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>“<i>The joy of making something that expresses one’s own<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>personality is radiated in this girl’s smile</i>.” </p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Isn’t that just a mantra to live by?!</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Every photo has a charming caption, some with pretty compelling questions!</p> <p style="text-align: center;margin-bottom: 0in; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6ysqzLerWmxdpIzVLvD20et7hBpcATnnk1qvgJ9iaAJ0xb5afEnyHxlljL28kADhb5BTyc7Cta8LT8nzkhY8NGbYclcYTT-nzYrQtsAXZhTba1LTH-x9ezLCqeQfjrj9fFMxQJgXb-LeM/s1600-h/girls.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6ysqzLerWmxdpIzVLvD20et7hBpcATnnk1qvgJ9iaAJ0xb5afEnyHxlljL28kADhb5BTyc7Cta8LT8nzkhY8NGbYclcYTT-nzYrQtsAXZhTba1LTH-x9ezLCqeQfjrj9fFMxQJgXb-LeM/s200/girls.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447818801590515282" style="cursor: pointer; width: 142px; height: 200px; " /></a></span></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6ysqzLerWmxdpIzVLvD20et7hBpcATnnk1qvgJ9iaAJ0xb5afEnyHxlljL28kADhb5BTyc7Cta8LT8nzkhY8NGbYclcYTT-nzYrQtsAXZhTba1LTH-x9ezLCqeQfjrj9fFMxQJgXb-LeM/s1600-h/girls.jpg"></a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Fun at the seashore! Which hats and dresses are fads? Which ones would you expect to be in style another year? Why?</span></span></p> <p style="text-align: center;margin-bottom: 0in; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbfq1esB75zsnZpImCEnR7a7wXdFE0Ftk-je9Gnr0oEzB93niZT3GZTLDeVeF76W7tzKcl_xymjmZazxKMUE8R0btGCT1m9icDtwU_jkab63mdXS8RSWDER4g-zPjXU3mXkZLQrMLCrKkk/s1600-h/foursome.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbfq1esB75zsnZpImCEnR7a7wXdFE0Ftk-je9Gnr0oEzB93niZT3GZTLDeVeF76W7tzKcl_xymjmZazxKMUE8R0btGCT1m9icDtwU_jkab63mdXS8RSWDER4g-zPjXU3mXkZLQrMLCrKkk/s320/foursome.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447823373654870514" style="cursor: pointer; width: 207px; height: 320px; " /></a></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;margin-bottom: 0in; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbfq1esB75zsnZpImCEnR7a7wXdFE0Ftk-je9Gnr0oEzB93niZT3GZTLDeVeF76W7tzKcl_xymjmZazxKMUE8R0btGCT1m9icDtwU_jkab63mdXS8RSWDER4g-zPjXU3mXkZLQrMLCrKkk/s1600-h/foursome.jpg"></a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Which of these blouse and skirt combinations would you select for a girl with prominent hips and a small bust? Which for a girl with a tiny waist, small hips and average bust? Which would be good for a large busted girl with small hips? Which would be suitable for most figures?</span></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMy1A20PotHn3pX3NgC40_4KD-vabvE0xUx4PIdiYehHAGqFS-Q4n0REZBLnyuY-Ksv5Ox3JuWP9b5iZqWZqaA-_8pmtOYqWKUsKnBGf-EuFM0K1cHxMuHLldrG56fkq7dYk6VLYdVgJXo/s1600-h/foursome.jpg"></a>I <b>love</b> that there are obviously clearly correct answers to each of these questions in the mind of the authors.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in">This incarnation of vintage appearance laws has a great collection of vocabulary concerning garments of the day. With my education in costume history and design, I’m thrilled to find terms I’m unfamiliar with and thought I would share!</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in">You just don’t hear anymore about necklines such as the “gumdrop” and the “ponderosa”, collars called the “middy” and “pointed club”, skirts called “pert”, as well as three different titles for pleated ones, not to mention shorts called “jam-kinis” (is that what “jams” is short for?!? I had no idea!). Also, there are pants styles and collar styles with the names “Jamaica” and “Bermuda”. We’ve presumably all heard of Bermuda shorts, but Jamaica? With coordinating collars? I think not, tater tot! (Note to readers: these oh-so-importantly differentiated collars and short pants are represented by virtually identical hand-drawn sketches. Love it!).</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in">I’m just at the beginning of my exploration, but feel it’s noteworthy that page 66 has the question <i>“Would you prefer sneakers, suede pumps, or satin sandals to wear with jeans to a picnic? Why?”</i> </p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in">While page 67 has this one: Can You Explain These Terms? </p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in"> <i>Unity, balance, formal or symmetrical balance, informal or asymmetrical balance, proportion, emphasis, vertical line, horizontal line, diagonal line, form, texture, harmony, variety, structural design, decorative design, realistic design, stylized design, abstract design.</i></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><i></i>It doesn’t just ask for a definition for these terms, it asks for the student to <b>explain</b> them! With a college degree in a related field, I would balk at this task, yet it is given to high school students of the 50s in Chapter <b>2</b> of this textbook!</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Ooooo! I just noticed a jumper pattern suggestion in the back of the book! Gotta go!</p>selahestellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08827485557146948883noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3161328138784552436.post-68005510109250913132010-03-03T08:19:00.000-08:002010-03-03T08:39:29.680-08:00In the Pink!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYmbBYF6bDMtuvuWnTetbhjDXF3q6hAAZPJhhGiWiy7PY2R07HdnR5_lf-AgRSPVGyBxAN5mwV6d6gt60eO6P0RHGEBtPF5w3AiNzZojiy4jNG3EO84kZPSKljCHexY2m1bg2ZVW84AFEP/s1600-h/IMG_4520.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYmbBYF6bDMtuvuWnTetbhjDXF3q6hAAZPJhhGiWiy7PY2R07HdnR5_lf-AgRSPVGyBxAN5mwV6d6gt60eO6P0RHGEBtPF5w3AiNzZojiy4jNG3EO84kZPSKljCHexY2m1bg2ZVW84AFEP/s200/IMG_4520.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444446790467332146" /></a><br /><br />Despite waking up with the headache that I went to bed with and grousing with my husband, today is definitely moving in the right direction.<div><br /><div>My husband and I made up and decided to be nice to each other again after a few days of general crankiness. </div><div><br /></div><div>I have a baby shower to go to this weekend, and had grand fun putting together a little gift basket for the occasion. Was able to find this lovely pristine basket at a thrift store and had hung on to the pink wired ribbon from a Christmas past, so felt downright resourceful as well as getting to be uber girly!</div><div><br /></div><div> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrICOn00nnOuur18PP_7UBEghN-Zx9ToNrTYemu9B2uRTvSopMFzQctQAiXB5XWlNTr5BE91U3hG7z7m-r67qxjebT0iB-dvC4LiXq_GQ5QPGVCjitFsZrChJPMVQV-dfloN_FbwHkOo7T/s1600-h/IMG_4518.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrICOn00nnOuur18PP_7UBEghN-Zx9ToNrTYemu9B2uRTvSopMFzQctQAiXB5XWlNTr5BE91U3hG7z7m-r67qxjebT0iB-dvC4LiXq_GQ5QPGVCjitFsZrChJPMVQV-dfloN_FbwHkOo7T/s200/IMG_4518.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444446786532888178" style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px; " /></a></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrICOn00nnOuur18PP_7UBEghN-Zx9ToNrTYemu9B2uRTvSopMFzQctQAiXB5XWlNTr5BE91U3hG7z7m-r67qxjebT0iB-dvC4LiXq_GQ5QPGVCjitFsZrChJPMVQV-dfloN_FbwHkOo7T/s1600-h/IMG_4518.JPG"></a>I have a spa day to look forward to on Friday, with a facial and massage giving me a glorious 2 full hours of me time at the lovely <a href="http://www.avantsalon.com/">Avant Salon</a> where I get my hair cut.</div><div><br /></div><div>I just shipped off a pretty little package to Florida of one of my favorite Etsy items, which is going live on a handmade feather tree (squeeee!).</div><div> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDI7dMf0EAOF3ZNlsTMFk1-MkwiCwUHRB8wJXdGXtCNcY6wpGF8W-HyM0ZONieAJq3Dkr42mPwc-Dj8omJ8RM_Pc9_KfiOj3zLdQ3BPjEPL2cHOOMHseK1ZJViM0HEmquTqpTPTttkpzLb/s1600-h/IMG_4524.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDI7dMf0EAOF3ZNlsTMFk1-MkwiCwUHRB8wJXdGXtCNcY6wpGF8W-HyM0ZONieAJq3Dkr42mPwc-Dj8omJ8RM_Pc9_KfiOj3zLdQ3BPjEPL2cHOOMHseK1ZJViM0HEmquTqpTPTttkpzLb/s200/IMG_4524.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444446800151680546" style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px; " /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbO1wccRvobpHsIeubfcGynOg_rxs2fXFw0nVq4L-giY5LWwWe60W0ibfgvavBZO7oIsQivYrlIVPVIPbzAAlTwZMpJhTg-Y8MotOCer6zGqdr-lKCohfgXNsBB9rQBlsfxM9LJK5P9IhP/s1600-h/IMG_4525.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbO1wccRvobpHsIeubfcGynOg_rxs2fXFw0nVq4L-giY5LWwWe60W0ibfgvavBZO7oIsQivYrlIVPVIPbzAAlTwZMpJhTg-Y8MotOCer6zGqdr-lKCohfgXNsBB9rQBlsfxM9LJK5P9IhP/s200/IMG_4525.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444446809861946818" style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbO1wccRvobpHsIeubfcGynOg_rxs2fXFw0nVq4L-giY5LWwWe60W0ibfgvavBZO7oIsQivYrlIVPVIPbzAAlTwZMpJhTg-Y8MotOCer6zGqdr-lKCohfgXNsBB9rQBlsfxM9LJK5P9IhP/s1600-h/IMG_4525.JPG"></a>I also received a package from <a href="http://www.bobosoatbars.com/">Bobo's Oat Bars</a> this morning of three of their delicious and nutritious coconut oat bars to replace one that I found mold in prior to opening. You've got to love the smaller independent companies! These bars are great food for babies, organic and yummy and soft and oh so portable!</div><div> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwwzIq1v1u8ZchUIfhd8CGseXIEY0ELnJNBwkdYhHtDcvW2392oIxhNHQe6LmRC09e_2L2pOCLSLtvl4tpGFK29m7SEOw8GtD18ATCYUBy2Vexd78DPSgB7ohBYOPRZY89VFirZ_8iv8DM/s1600-h/IMG_4529.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwwzIq1v1u8ZchUIfhd8CGseXIEY0ELnJNBwkdYhHtDcvW2392oIxhNHQe6LmRC09e_2L2pOCLSLtvl4tpGFK29m7SEOw8GtD18ATCYUBy2Vexd78DPSgB7ohBYOPRZY89VFirZ_8iv8DM/s200/IMG_4529.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444446817345626914" style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px; " /></a></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwwzIq1v1u8ZchUIfhd8CGseXIEY0ELnJNBwkdYhHtDcvW2392oIxhNHQe6LmRC09e_2L2pOCLSLtvl4tpGFK29m7SEOw8GtD18ATCYUBy2Vexd78DPSgB7ohBYOPRZY89VFirZ_8iv8DM/s1600-h/IMG_4529.JPG"></a>My headache is starting to get better and my baby is asleep, so I'm going to see what else I can do with my burst of positive energy!</div></div>selahestellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08827485557146948883noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3161328138784552436.post-77286344102610375142010-02-26T14:30:00.000-08:002010-02-26T15:15:22.919-08:00What kind of project will this be?<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLEbT7ztqpDbVvlCu30rscZ6kl8tuwls-OKk4zcAYfDisQ1VSbf1cM1XguSpKACoyXQcCtRRijIXqZrpfDRjBA3rhs9-fl0FrJ64UfF2voBnonnopUeg-x0BzXuKwRx2jkcKUKYUgO97dV/s1600-h/IMG_4348.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLEbT7ztqpDbVvlCu30rscZ6kl8tuwls-OKk4zcAYfDisQ1VSbf1cM1XguSpKACoyXQcCtRRijIXqZrpfDRjBA3rhs9-fl0FrJ64UfF2voBnonnopUeg-x0BzXuKwRx2jkcKUKYUgO97dV/s200/IMG_4348.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442694060774781794" /></a></div>I have this vintage table runner that I've been hanging on to for God knows how long. I've never used it for a couple of reasons. 1. Wasn't really in the place in my life where I had occasion/desire to put it out 2. It has a somewhat unsightly stain in a conspicuous spot.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV9DANiJ0Hfadone-P-0akTem61Wp3wfIUYhlnJl8LxyOCzjFN707QKT1YYK1slKFOKVjj_Qtyw9M2oLAchCXhbXPCcJGXEwq1ARFYzjyMsp-srJz8ZKLzvUWb3o752a15IreliHN_IBFi/s1600-h/IMG_4347.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV9DANiJ0Hfadone-P-0akTem61Wp3wfIUYhlnJl8LxyOCzjFN707QKT1YYK1slKFOKVjj_Qtyw9M2oLAchCXhbXPCcJGXEwq1ARFYzjyMsp-srJz8ZKLzvUWb3o752a15IreliHN_IBFi/s200/IMG_4347.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442693462503724914" style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></a></div><div>Now that I have my little girl and Easter is just around the corner, I have lovely notions of putting out my little bunny figures and sweet, festive decorations. I pulled this out by chance and felt it might be just the thing.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I've hand washed it in Woolite, using <a href="http://www.solutions.com/jump.jsp?itemID=13264&itemType=PRODUCT">Grandma's Secret Spot Remover</a> on the stain, and hung it to dry. This did wonders for generally livening this little linen up, but did not do anything for the stain, and has made me aware that one end of the runner is a shade darker than the other.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwVPHH8sTJsa4MxDPMK2XD_Zt0BeuaO7KEpVlW0P7Op92tk8Nl5BWfV17WK0NY0S5DwNvlrokLcX15KIdfE3osBQ8HsxU9wA4ygdAMo6atkV_mJbJ2q9ncb8ovRUzdzX6y2MtFgyCG0NdX/s1600-h/IMG_4351.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwVPHH8sTJsa4MxDPMK2XD_Zt0BeuaO7KEpVlW0P7Op92tk8Nl5BWfV17WK0NY0S5DwNvlrokLcX15KIdfE3osBQ8HsxU9wA4ygdAMo6atkV_mJbJ2q9ncb8ovRUzdzX6y2MtFgyCG0NdX/s200/IMG_4351.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442693482030040258" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqIvcrHqMzeFRON-EbRhiHHjcw5DKDA25NuGkvOTcRet1xxXnAS0sIqkXwasrKznqkYHlfUuvqS9OcnwBlkUNwDGZw7apd9BpmwATamR8epUFASnKeXtNK9TlfQdCaWlPIAFhA1j3Gq3Ak/s1600-h/IMG_4349.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqIvcrHqMzeFRON-EbRhiHHjcw5DKDA25NuGkvOTcRet1xxXnAS0sIqkXwasrKznqkYHlfUuvqS9OcnwBlkUNwDGZw7apd9BpmwATamR8epUFASnKeXtNK9TlfQdCaWlPIAFhA1j3Gq3Ak/s200/IMG_4349.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442693473942938322" /></a></div><div>With the prospect of simply not being able to do anything about the stain, I'm entertaining camouflaging it with coordinating embroidery motifs. I've found some really good candidates/inspiration <a href="http://www.needlecrafter.com/">here</a>. If I were to do this, I'm also considering tea dying it so that the color fade is not so obvious.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTviv17jrFLYyu0Xr7X9xwwU2FT3pBFsEkjfPMdLfyBv8pWhgH6Pb-TnCYojcaBrZ2QbtD11eJMJxNPgSyStIpjkM4FbOuT3KnqNkVzICDvwCluAXOkwMK5gSOeBadt3LuulRDIRs0U2SY/s1600-h/IMG_4343.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTviv17jrFLYyu0Xr7X9xwwU2FT3pBFsEkjfPMdLfyBv8pWhgH6Pb-TnCYojcaBrZ2QbtD11eJMJxNPgSyStIpjkM4FbOuT3KnqNkVzICDvwCluAXOkwMK5gSOeBadt3LuulRDIRs0U2SY/s200/IMG_4343.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442693455984246386" /></a></div><br /><div>It's vintage, but I don't know where it came from and have no sentimental value to attach to it other than I think it's very sweet.</div><div><div><br /></div><div>Is it passe' to add your own embroidery to a vintage piece? Are there stain removal secrets I'm not aware of that are suitable for this task? Should I tea dye the whole thing, or will the discolored end just dye darker than the rest? I'd love to get some input!</div></div></div>selahestellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08827485557146948883noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3161328138784552436.post-77760885643900736622010-02-12T12:30:00.000-08:002010-02-12T13:17:08.853-08:00Product RantI have enough issues with the whole Wii phenomenon already, but I was willing to look the other way because I know that it's an argument I will never win. I know that it supposedly does people good and gets gamers up out of their chairs and what not. I know all this and understand why people like it. That said, it still smacks of wrongdoing to me. It just seems backward and all <a href="http://www.huxley.net/">Brave New World</a>-y. <div><br /><div>I have played Wii games at a party, so I can speak from at least a little experience. I know people are more likely to play a game in their home than actually get out of the house to go play softball or whatever. I'm sure that this technology is doing wonders for the fitness video industry and don't really have any issues with it in that application. I think I just don't have a game personality. I actually enjoy going bowling in<i> real life</i> and have no desire to do it virtually. (Board games are excluded from this rant. I love them). The whole getting amusement/exercise/information/education/cultural experience etc. from the glowing box in the middle of your living room just can only go so far with me before I start to get really creeped out. </div><div><br /></div><div>I have my mother to thank for never letting me go down this path in the first place. She would give us bags full of quarters to go to the arcade and play whatever we wanted, but would never purchase a game system for us and grumbled about the few computer games (King's Quest, Monkey Island etc.) that my Dad would bring home. I never got in the zone of sitting and playing games, squandering countless hours of valuable time. I also have my non-gamer husband to be thankful for. The only games he ever cared about are the super old <a href="http://www.infocom-if.org/company/company.html">Infocom</a> text based games. He spends any free time he has drawing and playing with our daughter. I love him so much.</div><div><br /></div><div>This new product, <a href="http://www.fisher-price.com/fp.aspx?st=10&e=product&pid=51063">Splatster</a>, officially marks my point of being totally creeped out/angered by this phenomenon. I won't have any kind of Wii in my own home, but that's my concern and my opinion only. It's a free country. The Splatster, however, crosses the line and makes things personal. This is where I have to step up on to my soapbox and say that <b>I object</b>.</div><div>Art is supposed to be messy. It is not about convenience. If you want your children to actually develop the motor skills required to become an artist, or the thoughtfulness to express themselves creatively, do not purchase this item. I can't say that I don't like computer art, or the programs therein. I use the computer for art stuff all the time. I learned how to use <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Deluxe_Paint">Deluxe Paint</a> when I was fairly young, but I was already comfortable with tangible art-making, and was learning the computer as an additional tool. There's the rub, folks.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have worked with children from birth to teens for 10+ years. I was a preschool assistant teacher in an accredited private school for 4 years with 4 yr olds and 3 yr olds. I am a mother. I am an artist.</div><div><br /></div><div>This toy is not a tool that will help you to do art things that you couldn't otherwise do. This toy is not going to inspire a child to become an artist. This toy, to me, comes across as a no-fuss, no-muss REPLACEMENT for sitting down with actual paper and being CREATIVE. The manner in which this is marketed and the target audience (3-8 yrs.) seriously makes me so angry I start to well up. Children are in the prime of their motor skill development during these years. Actual art making is an amazing educational, developmental and emotional experience/opportunity for these young people who have so much to figure out in the world. A motor skill development expert told me once that a child's fine motor control is like cookie dough: you can keep adding ingredients and mushing it around for awhile, but once a child hits the age of 7 yrs; they're cooked when it comes to this area of development. Your fine motor abilities stop being able to really get better once you pass this point. A child's development (in all areas) is like building a pyramid. You may be able to get to the top and put that last block on, but if you are missing pieces along the way, your pyramid will have insurmountable weakness and problems. You only have one opportunity to build these pyramids. Why would you want this valuable, shrinking window of time to be filled with anything but the best?</div><div><br /></div><div>Why anyone would want/encourage their 3-4 yr old to use a computer for fun/education is beyond me personally. I'm a believer in getting dirty and learning about tangible things (it's such an awfully big world to see!) while they're young and their sense of the world and themselves in it is still taking shape. We all spend so much time in front of the TV or the computer. I know our children want to do what they see us do, but "plugging your child in" is a huge missed opportunity for togetherness and learning.</div></div>selahestellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08827485557146948883noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3161328138784552436.post-17625607784168727912010-01-31T22:30:00.000-08:002010-01-31T22:58:23.428-08:00TemariLately I've been so occupied with family/home life and have had so many occasions that have led me to making crafty gifts for loved ones that I haven't had the time to make anything new for the shoppe in ages. Much of the time I've been busy at work on some art project that I have to keep secret for gifty purposes, but these are a couple of new(ish) things I can share. I started this rose ball and finally finished it just before Christmas, but am only now finding the time to photograph and list it.<div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkPhtgnrq3-Z3LZ_Sf-RmZydGDstvbGY8KxwHuCcNl1M3RhfBakqUTzRUDMmVhnsD9LKcci4zfCcWVGF9w2o8GH6cVRiIqd52Faxnwqmr7xywVF15QNwRnhn4-ioyzzj1tPYHjwKByNfwP/s1600-h/rr1r.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkPhtgnrq3-Z3LZ_Sf-RmZydGDstvbGY8KxwHuCcNl1M3RhfBakqUTzRUDMmVhnsD9LKcci4zfCcWVGF9w2o8GH6cVRiIqd52Faxnwqmr7xywVF15QNwRnhn4-ioyzzj1tPYHjwKByNfwP/s320/rr1r.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433160497485076386" style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKhCjDAsqEqHb3zZ6VrRMMUFziq1zaKVlQ-u15C8Do6knTdlVRqBxwkcguydLNSg1np14HiTyzXSj5Yk1i1e3YTP5WrR6KjXg8uq569xuvbOS7DpxDCvKpRIwsOR3JNpFmBdO9ip7dIYIn/s1600-h/rr6.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKhCjDAsqEqHb3zZ6VrRMMUFziq1zaKVlQ-u15C8Do6knTdlVRqBxwkcguydLNSg1np14HiTyzXSj5Yk1i1e3YTP5WrR6KjXg8uq569xuvbOS7DpxDCvKpRIwsOR3JNpFmBdO9ip7dIYIn/s320/rr6.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433160506603510434" style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKhCjDAsqEqHb3zZ6VrRMMUFziq1zaKVlQ-u15C8Do6knTdlVRqBxwkcguydLNSg1np14HiTyzXSj5Yk1i1e3YTP5WrR6KjXg8uq569xuvbOS7DpxDCvKpRIwsOR3JNpFmBdO9ip7dIYIn/s1600-h/rr6.JPG"></a>This is another ornament that I just finished as a 1st birthday present for a friend's daughter, The Bears and I, kids in tow, attended her party today. It was crazy and crowded, but the kids had fun.</div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOuEnfwYRy8cOCHriI4cPcYjwSYdUJGkpj0hQvNmZysJwk8ZzSBHBfLCpKoFzoHM8ECD59oSFP6lJTNYcpAuuQP2KpKfzL_XxdfkoGT-XqbFZnDCw2xtlqjPRKVLYrmXW2yunCcNwUL5a0/s1600-h/IMG_3607.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOuEnfwYRy8cOCHriI4cPcYjwSYdUJGkpj0hQvNmZysJwk8ZzSBHBfLCpKoFzoHM8ECD59oSFP6lJTNYcpAuuQP2KpKfzL_XxdfkoGT-XqbFZnDCw2xtlqjPRKVLYrmXW2yunCcNwUL5a0/s320/IMG_3607.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433160514366572578" style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVDoM0A0uTUqsYkCBuXe2Tv7V__4-NEDfYSK5ySplKlp558iWnP2B8Fw7nXzs5msaBfa0ygRaUuzMXkShmJ8V7osMtkSLEf4qfmBAhJBfRocKl-YMrD3MBrkrACGfGE7Y5OuDiq7ywePdS/s1600-h/IMG_3605.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVDoM0A0uTUqsYkCBuXe2Tv7V__4-NEDfYSK5ySplKlp558iWnP2B8Fw7nXzs5msaBfa0ygRaUuzMXkShmJ8V7osMtkSLEf4qfmBAhJBfRocKl-YMrD3MBrkrACGfGE7Y5OuDiq7ywePdS/s320/IMG_3605.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433160508481668786" style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp04EnVX3dsvHbpaq7nT__ZBGzj8CwL7KMSNc6cZSD4zSE70XUmoRHnr5dTd5IYj-yrDaVOan_7oFdh1O4_FlbmqoJW3I1nXRAxrB9yi8AkN7Mqv_4UB8OORn3Q_DS0XLJO0NtcMNrJF9L/s1600-h/IMG_3610.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp04EnVX3dsvHbpaq7nT__ZBGzj8CwL7KMSNc6cZSD4zSE70XUmoRHnr5dTd5IYj-yrDaVOan_7oFdh1O4_FlbmqoJW3I1nXRAxrB9yi8AkN7Mqv_4UB8OORn3Q_DS0XLJO0NtcMNrJF9L/s320/IMG_3610.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433160521255935586" style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>selahestellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08827485557146948883noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3161328138784552436.post-31384503117405823722010-01-29T12:33:00.000-08:002010-01-29T12:55:14.594-08:00What's on my wall: Inspirado<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVoJSLpRmwLJbOf9P96fMs8lyT9YfiUI87n8EgL9-po2boOcsiYmLj91Lv3z4tmIqWTVmJerRNcS8HRAeO6Sei8Bcy7CVnwhd6Tj8Dd_T3uEd6LGgGPBB906URyU_0w_L2a474c7tT0Zf3/s1600-h/IMG_3507.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 281px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVoJSLpRmwLJbOf9P96fMs8lyT9YfiUI87n8EgL9-po2boOcsiYmLj91Lv3z4tmIqWTVmJerRNcS8HRAeO6Sei8Bcy7CVnwhd6Tj8Dd_T3uEd6LGgGPBB906URyU_0w_L2a474c7tT0Zf3/s320/IMG_3507.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432264976508274178" /></a><br /><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 16.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">This little darling has always been in my life. It hung in my mother's room when I was growing up and she was nice enough to let me have it when I moved out. I don't know where it came from, or who it was made by. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 16.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">On the back of the frame, in two places, is written B 350. It almost looks like a price, but I don't know if it is, or even if it is, if the price refers to the frame or the entire piece. My good friend KatinkaPinka used to have a storefront in South Austin with a couple of other ladies and they would have initials on their price tags to indicate who made what; that's my best guess for the B. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 16.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It hangs on a little strip of wall just big enough for it right outside my bedroom door. I look at it a little bit every day, some days more than others. I never get tired of getting up close and examining the variety of careful stitches that are so much more than they even needed to be. The extra touches of detail in the stitches is what gets me every time. I love to embroider and it seems to be somewhat of a fading art. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 16.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, fantasy; "> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, fantasy; font-size: 16px; "><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmUm9MtYadV1NVpfr0GM7KjnBW8tmU-ExHaewWy8h8fn6_V9sfzRZmVaTJPeBzJvNmoO15NLmJqzvMLzUDYEzC2U3ZcLTr89j2Sa30hTxrh0INcjYo7PofqGcPSn-sQhSLAuJ6Y8vaVSrv/s1600-h/IMG_3509.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmUm9MtYadV1NVpfr0GM7KjnBW8tmU-ExHaewWy8h8fn6_V9sfzRZmVaTJPeBzJvNmoO15NLmJqzvMLzUDYEzC2U3ZcLTr89j2Sa30hTxrh0INcjYo7PofqGcPSn-sQhSLAuJ6Y8vaVSrv/s320/IMG_3509.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432264987285885602" style="cursor: pointer; width: 268px; height: 320px; " /></a></span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, -webkit-fantasy; font-size: 16px; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9UsJCxpuwnkazJnswtwarPBXenxX-ZwE4yylmhU6a_kHUJkow_TMY0ZGWjQVyKbVEPspKMjuoE4hfMgX3UISJ_QelTPfY2z6iB6SQ9lYV1gdJVG7QV65tugnY_jVHauMdigaHiKtS12UL/s320/IMG_3508.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432264981355864850" style="cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 320px; " /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, -webkit-fantasy; font-size: 12px; "> </span></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 16.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, fantasy; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, -webkit-fantasy; font-size: 16px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, -webkit-fantasy; font-size: 12px; ">Someone doing a piece</span></span> like this today is probably a fractional likelihood c<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, fantasy; font-size: 16px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, -webkit-fantasy; font-size: 12px; ">ompared to when this was probably made, but even if someone were to take the time to do it now, I doubt that they would include all the nuance and care that went into this. I look at it and think, well, I can do that stitch, or I could probably figure that one out, or how did she do that? But I'm almost always struck by how the artist "went the extra mile" in a way that I'm not sure I would have. This is somewhat sobering, as I pride myself on being someone who "brings their A-game" most of the time, especially on craft projects. I have to imagine that it came from a time when there was simply less to occupy yourself with. No computers, TV etc. It must have been quietly lovely, but I won't get all romantic about times past, there's no point to it really. At any rate, it wouldn't be as inspiring to me if it were more on my level. My mother, the art teacher, summed it up with "If their work is better than yours, learn from it. If it's worse, feel better about your own."</span></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 16.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, fantasy; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, fantasy; font-size: 16px; "><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhLNE3mscGuXPajQv84wym0WAYerswBBB9BTdvvup3xmBksEzZtwqq5L_KMnNYmLC4MfuSWRkQ0a6GzeFN8Er7qvukf0DnaebTZFWVoaiTpDxS5yXcdJsbgyrJnY2KTZeaThTysYjOiqxQ/s1600-h/IMG_3511.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhLNE3mscGuXPajQv84wym0WAYerswBBB9BTdvvup3xmBksEzZtwqq5L_KMnNYmLC4MfuSWRkQ0a6GzeFN8Er7qvukf0DnaebTZFWVoaiTpDxS5yXcdJsbgyrJnY2KTZeaThTysYjOiqxQ/s320/IMG_3511.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432264996228435154" style="cursor: pointer; width: 294px; height: 320px; " /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, fantasy; "><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGgd0qBJoWVznWecE7s_09LVZboCpxyt20CxmBTwPeuTawUvugpQIqddUlbbCP2I6qwibNx4QnBNx6jMT3-bV-q6_Z0yXP870iABb9VphwQr8GzNp8mOoeNDmWWP5EmZw835JoXvxViAGp/s1600-h/IMG_3514.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGgd0qBJoWVznWecE7s_09LVZboCpxyt20CxmBTwPeuTawUvugpQIqddUlbbCP2I6qwibNx4QnBNx6jMT3-bV-q6_Z0yXP870iABb9VphwQr8GzNp8mOoeNDmWWP5EmZw835JoXvxViAGp/s320/IMG_3514.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432265000410616210" style="cursor: pointer; width: 281px; height: 320px; " /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, -webkit-fantasy; font-size: 12px; ">That's not entirely fair though, because artists who are less practiced or comfortable with a medium than you can still inspire with their ingenuity, style, spirit or sheer drive to create.</span></span></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 16.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Anyway, was taking another look at it and thought I would share my little moment.</span></span></p>selahestellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08827485557146948883noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3161328138784552436.post-29675644991788364152010-01-26T21:47:00.000-08:002010-01-26T22:24:04.409-08:00moment of dorkYeah, yeah... but don't you agree that Kristen Stewart bears a striking resemblance to Joan Fontaine? Just watched Suspicion, but would've preferred Hitchcock's alternate ending where Cary Grant did kill his wife.<div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifjKPfDEQ5pDqpS_2-y-YgU4HGmG4nNOrCOvh3gz_E02XseXp7m9bx83Y5y6g9Gep8qAI5gIf5fnr1a-lwzlHfgB7j4b4RwrIo7dcY2IzVRfwD1nU56WPSDWDyf9Yw2WW1JTPYSJ_sn5PT/s1600-h/twilight62.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifjKPfDEQ5pDqpS_2-y-YgU4HGmG4nNOrCOvh3gz_E02XseXp7m9bx83Y5y6g9Gep8qAI5gIf5fnr1a-lwzlHfgB7j4b4RwrIo7dcY2IzVRfwD1nU56WPSDWDyf9Yw2WW1JTPYSJ_sn5PT/s200/twilight62.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431300348681792850" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkO4xrM8H1fGrh3QyXyHi32PyWtki0Hc9H5KZa2qA4J3zV-ia81KDkVIv2CFloUA9nrc4g_hJuJp7NskY_FdPr1LVZdX_jkqV6vxQg8KDJ2IlhSnzeYi-2PuMJkFFyPpGR4Y4cZqptQl4t/s1600-h/joan_fontaine.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkO4xrM8H1fGrh3QyXyHi32PyWtki0Hc9H5KZa2qA4J3zV-ia81KDkVIv2CFloUA9nrc4g_hJuJp7NskY_FdPr1LVZdX_jkqV6vxQg8KDJ2IlhSnzeYi-2PuMJkFFyPpGR4Y4cZqptQl4t/s200/joan_fontaine.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431300020453142626" style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></a><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi16OXntIhWzBuoF26CzXTmQOsT239lr9VmGk14qpYctlQHj9a07MxoFpQtNsqUZwVuPcqEAvdyBEbjqu5hpve06-UKvi-P7iHGtH_y7ASMk95MdYRMVXEJK28k-fsOvQk_NoDjQ_VFFA3J/s1600-h/joan_fontaine1.jpg"></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLhpQ6kKhghfOOf3tC5lk82xYm34-LwjQDpIzR7bAgV9p7tbSyKNS1sk_0yJAxYglnprcglH5osaStNmaFuuw_Rpt9yxOr1NgQ884QKsYU30VXANACxi4axKARtES7VRbtaXqj7QJ2NoHH/s1600-h/772933730d4ebd0e_twilight-kristen-stewart-makeup.xlarger.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLhpQ6kKhghfOOf3tC5lk82xYm34-LwjQDpIzR7bAgV9p7tbSyKNS1sk_0yJAxYglnprcglH5osaStNmaFuuw_Rpt9yxOr1NgQ884QKsYU30VXANACxi4axKARtES7VRbtaXqj7QJ2NoHH/s200/772933730d4ebd0e_twilight-kristen-stewart-makeup.xlarger.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431300015269884146" style="cursor: pointer; width: 161px; height: 200px; " /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEdjW_HBdYM8cwR_H8OPvjFTFcFmXMeNXgIDaxrrbf1205sMgO1oBL0H0wuWot1okhyxFKbwrjDB3Gw7Q1QdnHkg7kHG0woxFsm9yaAivSlVTzLWEkb8A10I6-36b1fI87qrjZ-Pnh_obh/s1600-h/Joan_Fontaine_in_Born_To_Be_Bad_trailer_2.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEdjW_HBdYM8cwR_H8OPvjFTFcFmXMeNXgIDaxrrbf1205sMgO1oBL0H0wuWot1okhyxFKbwrjDB3Gw7Q1QdnHkg7kHG0woxFsm9yaAivSlVTzLWEkb8A10I6-36b1fI87qrjZ-Pnh_obh/s200/Joan_Fontaine_in_Born_To_Be_Bad_trailer_2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431300337613829330" /></a> <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFCaaQjOG2eMuVtjDnC3nUOQm6ofvTQakhFdBuBBDq9SEJqcXZ1kaIaiRrZtpsXfeWDwOXI6xdfFAynZsv1rO93_T-NCD3DqUqZbQpOU4LXEq_A4AIh_Zn7OyXr4v7Tf-JRJw_lzYVbWPE/s1600-h/79175_kristen-stewart-of-twilight-talks-to-access.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; 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width: 200px; height: 160px; " /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-e7fNA1iFJat8aYzgjoprOSzagj8zlXV9WQIrcLSvkkTqocPS4OJq3752NxjgLIsQ6_rSfE-0xwKloffX897YdgpYy5EFnbwmWUP8MmB3UJ8-xt-Sf-r9gEf8kj6OXOGJ014rXZNmNpBD/s1600-h/kristen.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 132px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-e7fNA1iFJat8aYzgjoprOSzagj8zlXV9WQIrcLSvkkTqocPS4OJq3752NxjgLIsQ6_rSfE-0xwKloffX897YdgpYy5EFnbwmWUP8MmB3UJ8-xt-Sf-r9gEf8kj6OXOGJ014rXZNmNpBD/s200/kristen.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431293189190920082" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9JqHbBIH9nTPXXhFVDn837jimqnEp6mTO71LQLxtqHAK3GQaBc8BXBhnO9GfRzyIphj7wPL8b_nJAmO8acruXXC1kI-dDSE0j7qeVcIgTDLCUaWIXLq96k6o0lEaNDdasCz0e8YSO-BXu/s1600-h/joan1.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9JqHbBIH9nTPXXhFVDn837jimqnEp6mTO71LQLxtqHAK3GQaBc8BXBhnO9GfRzyIphj7wPL8b_nJAmO8acruXXC1kI-dDSE0j7qeVcIgTDLCUaWIXLq96k6o0lEaNDdasCz0e8YSO-BXu/s200/joan1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431292717134195298" style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAFZhQHh7HzBCMFQo_utz8YsCJ1AfKxX-ehW6PWBMdWyDApV3cJRLJ8-eAr0tgypuCnL3-PVa5aSVVp8rUmj9AKHXjFCvR4phGmOCkPV7T44EBZxCSmZTAZ6UJk9bLHhGGn6i2lCzBfhgV/s1600-h/kristen-stewart-twilight-55038880.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAFZhQHh7HzBCMFQo_utz8YsCJ1AfKxX-ehW6PWBMdWyDApV3cJRLJ8-eAr0tgypuCnL3-PVa5aSVVp8rUmj9AKHXjFCvR4phGmOCkPV7T44EBZxCSmZTAZ6UJk9bLHhGGn6i2lCzBfhgV/s200/kristen-stewart-twilight-55038880.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431293188254590402" style="cursor: pointer; width: 147px; height: 200px; " /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIWGguRp59_jcPC_jrfwF_9QTRhNMchCpTSi_uK3-PdAw7Q_zqp0UFbEUIOJQ1kmoYNuQE1nu_Q8NfyZbRX4W7KhRQYqIPKYWzakUbidsNHjS1FywaklJCFsYK_LM5RKZQdR1GiUBDC_Sy/s1600-h/joan.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIWGguRp59_jcPC_jrfwF_9QTRhNMchCpTSi_uK3-PdAw7Q_zqp0UFbEUIOJQ1kmoYNuQE1nu_Q8NfyZbRX4W7KhRQYqIPKYWzakUbidsNHjS1FywaklJCFsYK_LM5RKZQdR1GiUBDC_Sy/s200/joan.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431292714648358274" style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqnb0tC4dnSeYcRSJJzl9CvTVeOnyEWtJdKO4WgZTLKU3e3-qzruyJRN5smEDvd6RS_YzzqhkOoIHuD61Z70hCZBSKtQM-Xyuf-1pXTzi0IT3OuwqA2G9HCA7342cd2iITQNeYrcDQAkDX/s1600-h/bella_swan.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 148px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqnb0tC4dnSeYcRSJJzl9CvTVeOnyEWtJdKO4WgZTLKU3e3-qzruyJRN5smEDvd6RS_YzzqhkOoIHuD61Z70hCZBSKtQM-Xyuf-1pXTzi0IT3OuwqA2G9HCA7342cd2iITQNeYrcDQAkDX/s200/bella_swan.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431292705883205954" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqwlK_s-ILym6lMumP4R5SUkLacOzUGwBsYMjDWCew3fI2OIiR2S1gZfT_wBotlvVvUiURUQi6OWOb-tsCj1S5Q1srqTymHV4_G6qgRGbqG-81YjbRTEsjEL7ae_l25oP6ibMO2cwTK3wW/s1600-h/joan-fontaine1.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqwlK_s-ILym6lMumP4R5SUkLacOzUGwBsYMjDWCew3fI2OIiR2S1gZfT_wBotlvVvUiURUQi6OWOb-tsCj1S5Q1srqTymHV4_G6qgRGbqG-81YjbRTEsjEL7ae_l25oP6ibMO2cwTK3wW/s200/joan-fontaine1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431292711756741650" style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 138px; " /></a></div></div>selahestellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08827485557146948883noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3161328138784552436.post-47808787468769233252010-01-25T13:54:00.001-08:002010-01-25T14:22:16.268-08:00I'm still hereI have sadly fallen off the blogge wagon in a big way; but I wanted to assure you all that it is a temporary situation. Still having major issues finding a balance that I can achieve on a regular basis of family/housework/art/on-line business/cooking/yard and house maintenance. I'm at a loss as to why this isn't every person's constant concern.<div>I am feeling pretty good today about it all. A little more Stepford than usual. I cleaned my floors today (mostly) with my new Shark steam mop. I was pretty happy with the Swiffer WetJet, but unhappy with the disposable pads that get used up pretty quickly and the cleaning solution that I didn't know was totally safe for baby or not. The Shark one uses steam, so no chemicals, and has washable pads. It seemed to do the job pretty well and was easier to scrub with than the Swiffer because the steam loosened the gunk up better.</div><div>I haven't messed with my Etsy shoppe in a long time either. I guess I've just been super focused in on my home/family life. The holidays were necessarily so, and I've just had a hard time getting back into a groove that isn't all about family and personal projects. </div><div>We've been busy with some much needed home improvements (though what we've done only scratches the surface of all that should be done!). We got new light fixtures for the kitchen, one which necessitated replacing part of the ceiling, which necessitated a "kill room" set up a la Dexter (Bryan's and my latest obsession, we're finishing Season 3 tonight!). It's pretty exciting after years of a ceiling with stains and holes and inadequate light, then months of a ceiling with stains and more holes and a fluorescent light nailed to the wall in my kitchen to finally have appropriate lighting. Don't have an "after" pic yet, because we haven't finished the ceiling off yet. Planning on getting the imitation pressed tin ceiling tiles. My inspiration for the kitchen since getting the new (old!) pantry has been the old free-standing Swensen's Ice Cream parlor. </div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1j6qCrLVWiSwVU7I-LUrIQvcB-dYEoznjjsM5fij2uxiRko_3YHnhEWXLUtEBmoMDhSDKqP30mmkKmwgWD3AjizbtkZ-mDLlWSJy46nXo5FXYAuL0-HPWhl488ACZVPymumDBECkhx1t7/s1600-h/IMG_3248.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1j6qCrLVWiSwVU7I-LUrIQvcB-dYEoznjjsM5fij2uxiRko_3YHnhEWXLUtEBmoMDhSDKqP30mmkKmwgWD3AjizbtkZ-mDLlWSJy46nXo5FXYAuL0-HPWhl488ACZVPymumDBECkhx1t7/s200/IMG_3248.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430804408693093634" style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGmQ4mU4vqnTrYtH1MjXNRx6YFIevbcow9YG82MROIs44OwoAdV3DAT296M-1ALSFg1w9VJIGcH-8odvLgfwLsni2YmM0g6QBUymgErq-Jc5EV7X5jXfMf7l5kZ_qa9f0QcSVGvJ2Jvp2W/s1600-h/IMG_3260.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGmQ4mU4vqnTrYtH1MjXNRx6YFIevbcow9YG82MROIs44OwoAdV3DAT296M-1ALSFg1w9VJIGcH-8odvLgfwLsni2YmM0g6QBUymgErq-Jc5EV7X5jXfMf7l5kZ_qa9f0QcSVGvJ2Jvp2W/s200/IMG_3260.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430804416270070962" style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px; " /></a> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFPrs4C5J88yYeYVTiH4YsnYZ_4o22EwUrlCAOyd73eYW5VtY8-xh9687NNr2tab_wREMVe8LDPeBTYl3xVbmCOB0qxGTXZD4958hXG15TG7kfStw4DXf1Ks0Xf_PLauJhlLCLkQDp_Dlo/s1600-h/IMG_3262.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFPrs4C5J88yYeYVTiH4YsnYZ_4o22EwUrlCAOyd73eYW5VtY8-xh9687NNr2tab_wREMVe8LDPeBTYl3xVbmCOB0qxGTXZD4958hXG15TG7kfStw4DXf1Ks0Xf_PLauJhlLCLkQDp_Dlo/s200/IMG_3262.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430804422605074722" style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></a> </div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJo06_CRinQLu6LXxFwjnxkYx7iCJC0hrKtCps4_ovmC6-d9bOL5nWkq0CQZquZitG6bTZdeReCEBHYWAx-KhyphenhyphenC91RRMIialU9BCfHXLpqpnuN6OM45kBMzNKkyEM9leHgvNlbtvkmpC52/s1600-h/IMG_3266.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJo06_CRinQLu6LXxFwjnxkYx7iCJC0hrKtCps4_ovmC6-d9bOL5nWkq0CQZquZitG6bTZdeReCEBHYWAx-KhyphenhyphenC91RRMIialU9BCfHXLpqpnuN6OM45kBMzNKkyEM9leHgvNlbtvkmpC52/s200/IMG_3266.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430804427697236546" style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px; " /></a>We also put up a coat rack and curtains in the living room. Part of the wall is officially up in my studio-to-be. I finally got some bins for my laundry room shelf too. All the projects have been small, but those little things really add up!</div><div>Been working on art for present-type items, so no pics right now of that, but am excited to get back into the swing of things again soon. Thanks for reading and being patient with me as I figure out this whole life/motherhood/artist/wife thing!</div>selahestellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08827485557146948883noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3161328138784552436.post-83940822096666187452010-01-03T12:17:00.000-08:002010-01-06T14:32:32.028-08:00Recipost<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhl2stYKeAxFx4e8Qr2wzH-iWaxA_uLDgjzPhfRr7n_lSinsQAFTWIXKt0UlXqaTkZm5Y-IIB1ZCZdajYlFjHvqy94vEtMo5MBqpc_H0LGdZzdvAwKsNMvOL36psYGpWK9Avl_lqsEkqbI/s1600-h/IMG_2573.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhl2stYKeAxFx4e8Qr2wzH-iWaxA_uLDgjzPhfRr7n_lSinsQAFTWIXKt0UlXqaTkZm5Y-IIB1ZCZdajYlFjHvqy94vEtMo5MBqpc_H0LGdZzdvAwKsNMvOL36psYGpWK9Avl_lqsEkqbI/s200/IMG_2573.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422619562042317218" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP99KAQDo9l3sjgH5fyrlzWIBg-uSHdCBeSKFX2Ud10Pvv0mUNhOyGcbPJS7NWcW1JvaxLYDwPrUwV2J0WGoIqDkwVcYXQoLdJGrz-6lyytaFrIKns6Lvm98DZdk1XVzYvt6grJBWpBIbd/s1600-h/jar.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP99KAQDo9l3sjgH5fyrlzWIBg-uSHdCBeSKFX2Ud10Pvv0mUNhOyGcbPJS7NWcW1JvaxLYDwPrUwV2J0WGoIqDkwVcYXQoLdJGrz-6lyytaFrIKns6Lvm98DZdk1XVzYvt6grJBWpBIbd/s200/jar.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422619565633788770" style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px; " /></a>So, for Christmas this year, I made apple butter and bread for my close friends. This was somewhat initiated/supported by a wonderful lady I know named Guiniviere, who called me up and asked me if I wanted to do some canning with her. She purchased the canner, decided on apple butter and hosted our canning experience in her lovely home in South Austin.<div><br /></div><div><br /><div>We both made two batches, keeping our first, experimental batches for ourselves in our freezers as we did not can those batches. Using a crock pot, making apple butter is sinfully easy and is bound to become a quasi-regular occurrence in the Douglas house.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>~8 lbs. of apples</b></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><i>(I used Jonagold for one batch and Granny Smith for the other - didn't notice much difference, except that the apple corer/peeler/slicer worked much easier/more efficiently on the smaller, harder Grannies)</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><i>The amount is unimportant, just fill up your crock pot with cut up peeled apple pieces. When it cooks down after a couple of hours, add some more in if you want so you can get the most butter for your efforts!</i></span></div><div><b>~2 cups of sugar</b></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><i>I used all white sugar the first time, but found 2 cups to be a little sweet with the already sweet Jonagolds.</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><i>The second time I used mostly brown sugar, with a little white, and the amount seemed fine with the tart Grannies.</i></span></div><div><b>~1/4 cup brandy (flavored or plain, whatever)</b></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><i>I used apricot brandy on the first batch and plain on the second, both were fine. This was an improvised ingredient on my part, I just thought it would be nice. It's totally optional.</i></span></div><div><b>~1-2 tsp. nutmeg</b></div><div><b>~1-2 tsp. ground cloves</b></div><div><b>~1-2 tsp. allspice</b></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><i>I don't use cinnamon, as my husband and daughter are both sensitive to it. I find these three spices to be a very tasty facsimile and I never miss cinnamon. I did these spices to taste. You can always add more after the apple butter has cooked for a long time and is all mushy, so start with a little and add as you see fit.</i></span></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">~1 tsp salt</span></b></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><i>I also do this "to taste" as I go.</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Put everything in a crock pot and cook, covered, on high, for 1 hour. Then set your crock pot to</span></div><div> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">its low setting </span><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">and leave it for 12 hours, overnight, whatever ( a long time! ). You can't overcook fruit, apparently! I like to cook it uncovered for a few more hours at the end, just to evaporate some of the liquid; but it does look more liquid-y in the crock when it's warm than after it has set up in a refrigerator, so don't fret! You can put it in freezer safe jars and freeze it, or just put it in your fridge and keep it as long as you would keep any other jam.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It's great on just about everything. My husband eats it on his eggs!</span></div><div><br /></div><div>This was also my first experience using my sister's embossing supplies to make cute little labels!</div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4rI1ZwGGQYGqtM-aZ7ebh_uEv3XCwL5-5QrO0cPuL50j2Yq-FRQzMTt65jTwRab2NM7A4ar_ROg8SVgKOSes4CkAXgI8rFg-hr_0WYUOgOLhaQ6q2Tbjb543BIODu5Rwv3_CWdH03nyy1/s1600-h/emboss.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4rI1ZwGGQYGqtM-aZ7ebh_uEv3XCwL5-5QrO0cPuL50j2Yq-FRQzMTt65jTwRab2NM7A4ar_ROg8SVgKOSes4CkAXgI8rFg-hr_0WYUOgOLhaQ6q2Tbjb543BIODu5Rwv3_CWdH03nyy1/s200/emboss.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422619572641635874" style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4rI1ZwGGQYGqtM-aZ7ebh_uEv3XCwL5-5QrO0cPuL50j2Yq-FRQzMTt65jTwRab2NM7A4ar_ROg8SVgKOSes4CkAXgI8rFg-hr_0WYUOgOLhaQ6q2Tbjb543BIODu5Rwv3_CWdH03nyy1/s1600-h/emboss.JPG"></a>I just used some last night (experimentally) to great success. I made a little pizza on a tortilla and used the butter instead of tomato sauce. It was faboo!</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">1 tortilla</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">1-2 tbs. apple butter</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">2-3 slices Havarti cheese</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">1</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">-</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">2</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> baby bella mushrooms, sliced and sauteed</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">1-2 tsp. diced, sauteed onion</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">1/2 slice smoked turkey lunch meat</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Lightly crisp the tortilla on a pan just so that it isn't floppy anymore. Spread apple butter over surface. Break up your slices of cheese and your lunch meat into smaller pieces and arrange, along with your mushrooms and onion as you like. Put under a broiler for a few minutes until all the cheese has melted. Enjoy!</span></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-MFCoNMch5fusN4XBLVZqnAxgwsuqowbLHUpYa11xkJfUT5WTBgfFdNvrP990eFT49ZNo9yAhwI2RB7RLhheA7TIv18YwbAYfA6MnSAX5DDsW-bGVKKf-fsA7SDiD2nPhTP7bmYJ6AalE/s1600-h/IMG_3199.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-MFCoNMch5fusN4XBLVZqnAxgwsuqowbLHUpYa11xkJfUT5WTBgfFdNvrP990eFT49ZNo9yAhwI2RB7RLhheA7TIv18YwbAYfA6MnSAX5DDsW-bGVKKf-fsA7SDiD2nPhTP7bmYJ6AalE/s200/IMG_3199.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422618180658085730" style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9VhJ0Y4NmlC8P9OGKfro_XBnzfeY0fGK1f9zu5I3plT67tZmK9yQeZnLuDCPagXm-eBNngWFImrzu6orFK8NbagOH0-EZNWfJ572b6JOhyphenhyphenLvwG8u2hra9xBon4Ovy-o5at-ebsgsrxmT-/s1600-h/IMG_3198.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9VhJ0Y4NmlC8P9OGKfro_XBnzfeY0fGK1f9zu5I3plT67tZmK9yQeZnLuDCPagXm-eBNngWFImrzu6orFK8NbagOH0-EZNWfJ572b6JOhyphenhyphenLvwG8u2hra9xBon4Ovy-o5at-ebsgsrxmT-/s200/IMG_3198.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422618186785520002" style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfPWcd9T1C0rBWpSeWCUz-pqUSkbLYc2S3vdqOgYwiFLCYvG5Ck7OeLuH0RhtQrzmAwJZppmoVqi4v4dmbvikrUDm7mTN2E2pv2PCvQ9I2fJoriHWElVgYKQs9Gp7Bi7H-u6KJn0RMVf4a/s1600-h/IMG_3200.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfPWcd9T1C0rBWpSeWCUz-pqUSkbLYc2S3vdqOgYwiFLCYvG5Ck7OeLuH0RhtQrzmAwJZppmoVqi4v4dmbvikrUDm7mTN2E2pv2PCvQ9I2fJoriHWElVgYKQs9Gp7Bi7H-u6KJn0RMVf4a/s200/IMG_3200.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422618196952269042" style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px; " /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfPWcd9T1C0rBWpSeWCUz-pqUSkbLYc2S3vdqOgYwiFLCYvG5Ck7OeLuH0RhtQrzmAwJZppmoVqi4v4dmbvikrUDm7mTN2E2pv2PCvQ9I2fJoriHWElVgYKQs9Gp7Bi7H-u6KJn0RMVf4a/s1600-h/IMG_3200.JPG"></a>Just thought I would share my yummy mini pizza experience with you! Dicey liked it!</div><div><br /></div><div> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-m6K-t2JtZ6FaRIz3XQtFPePB0arAp5YQxlbDdWxKImaGhxD88lTDy5s1tDKSfLWzF0w5PXXwfAhAE1AhvzIdRwjL5-D6jqiSEsCtbtxzXeR-1QS5VQNpZ7jDvD2bwWuRPH4fbzchs7En/s1600-h/IMG_3212.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-m6K-t2JtZ6FaRIz3XQtFPePB0arAp5YQxlbDdWxKImaGhxD88lTDy5s1tDKSfLWzF0w5PXXwfAhAE1AhvzIdRwjL5-D6jqiSEsCtbtxzXeR-1QS5VQNpZ7jDvD2bwWuRPH4fbzchs7En/s200/IMG_3212.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422618174861546722" style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px; " /></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><b>New Year's Resolution</b>: To <i>actually</i> have Mondays be my clean house days, instead of just wishing it were the case. Wish me luck/give me reminders! :D*</span></div></div>selahestellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08827485557146948883noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3161328138784552436.post-47306721105064412232009-12-20T09:37:00.001-08:002009-12-20T10:19:26.823-08:00In the Christmas Spirit<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb-Ou0AHkvCmg2iqNETf8Ryy7ewk2XLRI5fYobNb_tePN5OsKdStr-T3CBu0SIyoigkEt_4Db3b-F24noMtn9k3dGLkkLZ41oevIUXV-SbaSfX4_ELU4qktpRodVv7BWjiZdAcAbV8t_0H/s1600-h/lights5.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb-Ou0AHkvCmg2iqNETf8Ryy7ewk2XLRI5fYobNb_tePN5OsKdStr-T3CBu0SIyoigkEt_4Db3b-F24noMtn9k3dGLkkLZ41oevIUXV-SbaSfX4_ELU4qktpRodVv7BWjiZdAcAbV8t_0H/s400/lights5.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417377210294138530" /></a><br />This will be my last post for 2009! A year ago today, my daughter hadn't been born yet, she was 2 days late and I was getting pretty antsy. The following is my recollection of that time:<div> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">We had taken our Lamaze classes and I was sitting on my exercise ball and we went on walks every day at least once. We went and ate spicy Indian food too. Still nothing. It only started to really get cold when it was very close. I remember one day that a frigid cold front came through and we walked during the day instead of at night, hoping to get as much warmth as we could, but the whole walk was us thinking how crazy it was to be taking a walk when it was that cold. We had very fun times talking to our baby and stamping our feet trying to encourage something to happen and singing songs and exploring our neighborhood, looking at everyone's Christmas decorations and talking about our future family and plans and such.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">I was so prepared ahead of time, I had put our Christmas decorations up early so that I wouldn't have to worry about it and I would be sure to have them up, because everyone was coming to our house, with or without a baby.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">I was a bit depressed about not producing a baby yet and as Christmas loomed I was pretty convinced that I would have to be induced. I didn't think I would have a baby on Christmas, what were the odds? I had just passed my mucous plug, but that was no guarantee that I wouldn't still hit my induction deadline. I was trying to keep my spirits up because I wanted to just be at peace with however she was going to come even if it wasn't how I wanted it to be. If I thought about it too much though, I would get pretty blue. On Christmas Eve, all those feelings were coming to a head. I was convinced that Christmas was going to come and go with no baby and my whole family would come over and we would have Christmas but it wouldn't be as much fun because we had all thought she would be here before then. I whined that all I wanted was a baby for Christmas, but that I wasn't going to get her in time. I knew that I had to find joy though, so I cried a little and talked to Bryan and asked him to help me distract myself so that I could have good memories and be in a festive mood. It was Christmas Eve, after all! We decided to bake some Christmas cookies. We were going to make Christmas tree shaped ones and went to the store and bought fun candies to decorate them with. Bryan wasn't used to decorating cookies, and we had lots of fun. I put on my Christmas morning pajamas and went to bed.</span></p> <img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBnP38ioACefuuYM9kQTF5b1xgPb9DcIS4tUl5jJIsa1kArG2oymcbclsnT0yUGU131t5ovoZNp3vzS50k3Ip9suaktNtqCTc7NIqmxy8IBngTR7b0YvXLjhX3vSLZFI8n5I5gcSZ7bv-B/s200/100_0091.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417378730861276034" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px; " /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb-Ou0AHkvCmg2iqNETf8Ryy7ewk2XLRI5fYobNb_tePN5OsKdStr-T3CBu0SIyoigkEt_4Db3b-F24noMtn9k3dGLkkLZ41oevIUXV-SbaSfX4_ELU4qktpRodVv7BWjiZdAcAbV8t_0H/s1600-h/lights5.JPG"></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb-Ou0AHkvCmg2iqNETf8Ryy7ewk2XLRI5fYobNb_tePN5OsKdStr-T3CBu0SIyoigkEt_4Db3b-F24noMtn9k3dGLkkLZ41oevIUXV-SbaSfX4_ELU4qktpRodVv7BWjiZdAcAbV8t_0H/s1600-h/lights5.JPG"></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb-Ou0AHkvCmg2iqNETf8Ryy7ewk2XLRI5fYobNb_tePN5OsKdStr-T3CBu0SIyoigkEt_4Db3b-F24noMtn9k3dGLkkLZ41oevIUXV-SbaSfX4_ELU4qktpRodVv7BWjiZdAcAbV8t_0H/s1600-h/lights5.JPG"></a><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">At 5:30 in the morning on Christmas day I woke up and went to the bathroom. I then noticed a short crampy contraction like sensation. It went away and I was going to go back to sleep. It came again and again and again. I was watching the clock in the dark and it seemed like it was happening about every five minutes. It didn't hurt that bad though. I told Bryan what was happening and that I was going to go and get in different positions and walk around a bit and see if it went away or not. (Many times this had happened and as soon as we went on a walk or changed things up, it would fade). A little while later, Bryan got up and checked on me, it was still happening. He started to write them down and we eventually had been having contractions every five minutes for two hours. Bryan called the nurse line and they said to come in.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">In retrospect, I would have waited to go to the hospital, but I was so anxious to get the ball rolling that I was going to jump on the situation as soon as possible.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">We called Celena and Jack, who were already packing all the presents up in their car and Mom and Dad's house. (they were helping them to bring the inordinate amount of gifts to my house for us to all open; mom is crazed about Christmas). They were ready to come to the hospital right away, but we told them to wait until I actually got admitted. I was worried they would just send me home because the contractions weren't strong enough.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">I went to triage and they kept asking me to rate my pain, they seemed to want it to be worse, but it just wasn't that uncomfortable. It was happening regularly though. They called my doctor and she allowed me to be admitted because she knew that induction was the next day, so she was of the mind to get the show on the road. I was admitted around 9 am. We then called everyone back and my family was there shortly. We also called Bryan's parents and they got in the car to head into Austin. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">When I was being put into the bed and hooked up to everything for monitoring, I thanked my nurse for being there on Christmas. She said that she wished she could say she was happy to be there, but that the only reason was because she was new to that hospital, so she was 'low man on the totem pole'. So, right off the bat, Nurse Brenda and I weren't friends. I was told during the hospital tour and at the Lamaze class that the nurses would ask me what my wishes were relative to getting an epidural or not, and once I told them, that they would not ask again or press the issue. Nurse Brenda went into her personal preference for the epidural several times and was being really pushy, saying that it was the best way and that she knew there were these 'earthy granola' types who didn't want to do it, but that she just thought it was the only way to go.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">I told her that I wanted to try without it and see if I could do it. I was concerned because I had a compressed nerve in my lower back, so I didn't know how that would affect things. If I had to get the epidural, I would, but, if I didn't need it, I didn't want it. I also didn't want pitocin. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">Celena and Bryan and I were all hanging out. Mom and Dad had come and stepped in, but were waiting most of the time in the lobby. I wasn't allowed to eat except for popsicles, water and jello. The jello was nasty. The popsicles were pretty good though. Bryan had some snacks in our bag. I was hooked up to fluids so that I wasn't really getting dehydrated or too hungry, but I really wanted to eat. Bryan was making us laugh and things were pretty fun.</span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, fantasy;font-size:16px;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdiEmkZZODJeJXyj52xbD5oO3l6yPIO8twS2qEUlGt8-GkLhKEF5dtOPwEBReFam6WijQch59_pzMJc7NTjl3zwv7gko8FomhEks5Lx1a0Pes5K4LcUTwJMH0LGOBgUQh3NRzqV5EVj00Q/s1600-h/100_0097.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdiEmkZZODJeJXyj52xbD5oO3l6yPIO8twS2qEUlGt8-GkLhKEF5dtOPwEBReFam6WijQch59_pzMJc7NTjl3zwv7gko8FomhEks5Lx1a0Pes5K4LcUTwJMH0LGOBgUQh3NRzqV5EVj00Q/s200/100_0097.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417380055122147026" style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></a></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">I was being polite and waiting for Nurse Brenda to unhook me and let me walk around a bit. I kind of hinted at it and she said that my doctor wanted me to stay hooked up, so I waited some more. My doctor came in to check me, as it had been awhile and the contractions were regular and were getting worse. I was at 3 cm, but my water hadn't broken yet. Things were progressing fairly slowly, so my doctor broke my water. Nurse Brenda came in a little while later and checked me and said that I still wasn't much further and that she was going to give me pitocin. I told her I really didn't want to get it and asked her if I could get up and walk around and see if I could progress on my own. (I had been laying on my back for hours). She reluctantly said that she would give me an hour, but that then she would come back and give me the pitocin anyway. I asked her if she couldn't check me to see if I had progressed any more at that point. She said that they really didn't like to check any more frequently than was necessary once the water was broken. I told her that that was what I wanted.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">I put on my special undies and got unhooked and put another gown on for decency. Bryan and I went to walk around the halls. There was no one around at all. We did walk past the room where Nurse Brenda was hanging out, talking on her cell phone, distinctly getting the impression that she wanted me to just do what I was told so that her job would be easier. Walking was good, we would stop when I had a contraction and Bryan would count me through it.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">I went back to the room after an hour and Nurse Brenda checked me and was all surprised when I was at 4 cm. She didn't give me pitocin, but she hooked me back up and wasn't keen on unhooking me unless I needed to go to the bathroom. She also said that I should have the baby by 7:00 pm, because that was when she got off. I marked the time mentally.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">Celena and Bryan helped me through the next few hours. Celena was massaging me during contractions and they were both keeping my spirits up between. Bryan's eyes became my focal point. The pain was getting fairly intense now and I was wanting to be in different positions. I tried lots, but didn't find one that I felt I could settle on as the 'one'. During one rough contraction, I was standing and Bryan was hugging me. I started crying out of nowhere. It was like an involuntary response to everything that was going on. I didn't feel that emotional, but it felt right and it was like my body was emotional. I had to have Bryan make me focus on him and not let me go inside of myself during the pain because it was much worse when I did that, but at the same time, it was easier. I felt okay, but it was already early evening and no one could give me any idea how much longer anything would take and there was nothing that would reliably speed things up either. I was anxious because I could feel myself getting more worn out and didn't know how much longer my energy would hold up and I still had to push, having no idea how long that would take.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">Every time Nurse Brenda came in was tense and annoying. Finally, 7 pm came with a new nurse, Heidi, who was wonderful. I was at 7 cm; at this point my contractions were so bad that I was passing out between them, only waking up for the pain. I spoke with Bryan and we both agreed that we wanted to go for the epidural at that point. I did feel that my compressed nerve was making things worse too. I asked Heidi about the epidural, expressing that I really hadn't wanted to get it, but was thinking I wanted it now. She said that if every birth took 5 hours, that she didn't think people would need it, but when they took so long and the woman was so exhausted, that it was really a great thing. I was dreading each contraction and was beyond really being able to focus on anything and was just moaning and writhing during them. The anesthesiologist couldn't get there quick enough once I had decided to get it. He came and was on his cell phone pretty much the whole time, except when he was actually injecting me. I had to stay as still as possible while this was happening and my contractions were so bad that it was difficult, but I knew there was light at the end of the tunnel, so I did pretty well.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">The pain didn't go away immediately, but it got better pretty quickly. I ended up needing more because I'm so tall. They gave me a little button to push if I wanted more medicine. Celena had left earlier when Bryan and I were discussing getting the epidural and I was feeling like just having he and I in the room because I was so uncomfortable. I asked for her to come back so she could see how much better I was doing. I could still feel my contractions, but it was just pressure, there was no pain and my lower back was completely pain free. We played my relaxation music and I was able to get some rest. I felt so much better and was very relieved to be making progress and not at the mercy of my contractions any longer. Bryan stayed with me and everyone else waited in the lobby. My mother was annoyed because there were no eateries open. We kept having to point out that it was Christmas and that that made sense. Heidi was supposed to come in and check me again around 10. I was eager for her to come right on time because I didn't know how long pushing would last and I wanted to have a Christmas baby. What fun is being in the hospital all Christmas day and then having the baby the day after? I knew everyone had been waiting for so long in the lobby. I was sure I would be at 10 cm. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">Heidi didn't come in until after 10:30 because another patient's water broke all over her and she had to change her scrubs. There were apparently people coming in that night at very late stages of labor. She checked me and said I was ready to start pushing. I was impatient, but they had to do some prep before I could actually start and I didn't really begin until after 11 pm. I had less than an hour to get this baby out! I pushed as hard as I could and took every opportunity they gave me, they said I could take breaks, but I didn't want to. I wanted to push even more than my contractions would allow. It was very difficult and when I pushed it felt like my head was going to burst, but I was focused. Heidi and Bryan told me I was doing great, but you can't tell until you get very close to the end that anything is really happening. I had a little bit of bleeding, so Heidi called my doctor just to be on the safe side. By the time Dr. Cutler arrived, the bleeding had stopped, but she decided to stay because I was just about to have another contraction and she wanted to watch and see how things were going. She said I was doing great. On the next push, I could really see the baby's head crowning and they told me to stop pushing because they had to get the bed ready for delivery. I stopped, but the baby didn't. It was like when you break the seal on a brand new tube of acrylic paint, she just kept coming. I remember Heidi putting her hand on the baby's head as if to keep her in, but it was happening regardless. Bryan remembers that someone was surprised and actually took a step back, knocking some things over. She just came right out onto the bed. Everyone was very surprised by how quickly it happened. Dr. Cutler said she was glad she had stayed!</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">I saw her little face in the mirror and was impressed by how normal and pretty she looked. They put her on me for a brief moment and I got to see the umbilical cord, which was so pretty. It was surreal and I couldn't even comprehend it all. They put her under the warmer while they worked on fixing me back up. Bryan went over to look at her and take pictures. He said she was looking around with one eye closed, all suspicious. He said she looked great. After I was cleaned up, everyone came in to the room. She had been wrapped up and I got to try breastfeeding her, it went well. Bryan's parents and sisters were there, Nathalie and Jason, Celena and Jack and my parents. I remember Celena was the first to hold her, then I think it was Ginny, then Bryan for awhile and then Nathalie. The room was bright and I was so proud. </span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, fantasy;font-size:16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, fantasy;font-size:16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, fantasy;font-size:16px;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVaeE5dh7gmBZbQSiqLk4Ndq91B6ddu4-oGnAzYqya46un84uvZIWa2g_DmeAyLGTir1XvBShETMK1G15sa3NtDvfgYPStulNu2FkGKP5XGiEonw-jHAYSLTkOM1qsfTbJFS82EMfvvJb0/s1600-h/100_0099.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVaeE5dh7gmBZbQSiqLk4Ndq91B6ddu4-oGnAzYqya46un84uvZIWa2g_DmeAyLGTir1XvBShETMK1G15sa3NtDvfgYPStulNu2FkGKP5XGiEonw-jHAYSLTkOM1qsfTbJFS82EMfvvJb0/s200/100_0099.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417381927003200130" style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></a></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhARnTn0xa0Uqe8afuxkY3YGOJjdi8WlFwt68CpumSiln6vjUScTExf-ktMz88Sg2i9S6OUMvjQmuqOLTHVLYBEc7e624nzdlLenWtb86L-T_7_MVzjcHljRQXnJx_eGHA-cdC7sF7-_HPI/s1600-h/100_0105.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhARnTn0xa0Uqe8afuxkY3YGOJjdi8WlFwt68CpumSiln6vjUScTExf-ktMz88Sg2i9S6OUMvjQmuqOLTHVLYBEc7e624nzdlLenWtb86L-T_7_MVzjcHljRQXnJx_eGHA-cdC7sF7-_HPI/s200/100_0105.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417380066215680242" style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px; " /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyOJJK-ENhncazkmgCQJgA1hp9zCupWa7hEdMy2WX7SvqqJYDY2QSYdP3_mY5Be29DLZWMU4sMeu6e8tACAgGklFTaS7swg1rFD7-sJ1vraY7sPqNxz3x-iiuLDbtO26QfUeGRCJFGIXUw/s1600-h/100_0124.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyOJJK-ENhncazkmgCQJgA1hp9zCupWa7hEdMy2WX7SvqqJYDY2QSYdP3_mY5Be29DLZWMU4sMeu6e8tACAgGklFTaS7swg1rFD7-sJ1vraY7sPqNxz3x-iiuLDbtO26QfUeGRCJFGIXUw/s200/100_0124.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417380922426565474" style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Helvetica, -webkit-fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Celena and Jack had a leftover breakfast sandwich from Jack in the Box that they hadn't eaten. I was so thrilled to eat, I didn't care what it was, so I was very happy. They asked me to try to go to the bathroom, but I couldn't yet. My legs were still numb, but I could walk pretty well, but my body didn't even seem to remember how to go to the bathroom. We packed everything up and went to our post partum room. I think Dorothy was being washed up at that time.</span></span></span></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">We got to our room and got settled around 2 am. They asked if I wanted anything from room service. I just wanted to sleep, but I got some juice and some graham crackers which were delicious. A little while later, they wanted me to try and go to the bathroom again and it still was nowhere near happening, so they got two nurses to put a catheter in me. It was awful and I just laid there and pretended to be asleep and tried to mentally go somewhere else. I was so tired and the epidural was wearing off and I just wanted them to leave me alone. It took awhile to do and was very uncomfortable. Bryan was asleep. It seemed like every time I started to go to sleep, someone was coming in to either check my vitals or the baby's vitals. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">Bryan got more sleep than I did, but he was very uncomfortable on the fold out couch in the room. We had to mind the thermostat. It took Dorothy a little while to regulate her temperature. Bryan did most of the diapers because it was hard for me to get up and move and stuff. Feeding seemed fine, nurses would ask me if I felt it was going well and I said yes, so they left it at that. She was pretty hard to wake up, we had to take her out of the swaddling blankets and out of her clothes and move her around. It took 30 minutes just to wake her up so that she could eat. They seemed to want me to feed her more, she would eat sometimes for brief stretches and then fall asleep, we would wake her up again every 3-4 hrs., but they said if she wasn't eating for longer stretches that she should eat every two hours. Everything was confusing and overwhelming and you're so unsure of everything. I remember her snorting a bunch, I was worried, but they said it was normal. They were checking on her again because of her temperature and someone realized that she had amniotic fluid in her lungs. They were surprised she had been eating at all, because that normally makes babies feel so full that they will even gag. After that she would nurse for longer stretches, but we still had to wake her up.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">I was so thrilled when they finally took the last piece of tape off of me. Taking a shower wasn't easy, but it felt so great to get clean and into my own clothes.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">We left her in her outfit from the hospital for awhile, I didn't know if it was okay to put her in her clothes from home yet. We were finally able to put her in cuter clothes and we realized that her "outfit" was actually just two baby wrap shirts, one of which was rigged to serve as pants. Our clothes for her were much better. She was swaddled most of the time though, so you didn't see her clothes much.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">One time while we were changing her diaper, she started to have a bowel movement. It started so small, we thought it was just the opening, but then the dark spot got bigger and in no time there was poo everywhere. It got on her hands, her feet, our hands, the blankets, her outfit, underneath the monitor on her ankle; it was a mess. We called for some help because we didn't have many wipes, but they didn't come very quickly and we had gotten it figured out by the time a nurse arrived. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">Celena brought us a unicorn balloon. Ginny (MIL) and all her sisters came to visit at the same time. We went in on Thursday morning and got to go home Saturday afternoon. It seemed to take forever to do everything we needed to do on Saturday before we left. It was pretty nerve wracking to have her in the car, she didn't seem big enough for the seat and just looked so fragile. We brought her home and we had a big plate of our cookies and lots of food that my mother had planned to cook but just ended up leaving with us. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">Early Saturday evening, shortly after we got home, Celena and Jack and my parents came over so we could open presents. Zoe and Marc came by for a short visit because they were leaving for France the next day for a vacation. We had an excessive Christmas. Everything was overwhelming and wonderful at the same time. I was so tired, but so happy; I got everything I had <span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Helvetica, -webkit-fantasy;">hoped for. </span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"> <span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, fantasy;font-size:16px;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhARi2Mw42hyphenhyphensuuzcWsDD_PRoxRlJLQzp8b3FEui7ZLB_iecQMm4o9EidZ75iObi2q7ruM8ieLFt9RHMfCK12wgOMu7CnsPJm7rKCRS9zlSTWU90HrgsNtv7m0p5ErPl8xRqtsKQeYxdYId/s1600-h/xmasbaby.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhARi2Mw42hyphenhyphensuuzcWsDD_PRoxRlJLQzp8b3FEui7ZLB_iecQMm4o9EidZ75iObi2q7ruM8ieLFt9RHMfCK12wgOMu7CnsPJm7rKCRS9zlSTWU90HrgsNtv7m0p5ErPl8xRqtsKQeYxdYId/s320/xmasbaby.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417382949337700450" style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, -webkit-fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukkah to everyone. Take this time to enjoy your families as they are right now. Next year everything could be completely different! </span></span></p></div>selahestellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08827485557146948883noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3161328138784552436.post-74783210336185508312009-12-15T22:15:00.000-08:002009-12-16T07:32:06.249-08:00I Heart Hanukkah<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXsNtO-Gv68zpIl_0U2u6kO0veOBUqxA4LdMha8HEC-7s95cMtwOVyVtbiPztcQ_DVq8hyS2f1N4lLjgZoOxg3bsv2BgTheizKmlZ7xhzkrs-TSADcSM8YDE_i2OzlsX4ScJfQxRfcWoWB/s1600-h/advent.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXsNtO-Gv68zpIl_0U2u6kO0veOBUqxA4LdMha8HEC-7s95cMtwOVyVtbiPztcQ_DVq8hyS2f1N4lLjgZoOxg3bsv2BgTheizKmlZ7xhzkrs-TSADcSM8YDE_i2OzlsX4ScJfQxRfcWoWB/s320/advent.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415720882016641362" /></a><br />I love Hanukkah and am really excited about the lovely menorah stamps the post office has this year. I also taught myself how to make schmaltz and latkes this year. I'm not Jewish. I'm actually in turbo Christmas mode. This is a picture of my 11 month old daughter yearning for her advent calendar treats (gerber yogurt melts). Several of my loved ones are Jewish; I also actually thought my husband was when we first met. He knows way more about Judaism than I do, he grew up in a predominantly Jewish neighborhood in Houston and three of his closest friends are Jewish (two of whom are godparents to our daughter).<div><br /></div><div>I never really had a favorite holiday; I like all the holidays, because they're all pretty fun. This year I'm beginning to realize that Christmas has officially become my favorite holiday. Last year, practically my entire family spent all Christmas day and evening in the hospital lobby waiting for me to give birth to my baby girl at 11:50 pm (just in time, whew!). The day we came home from the hospital, my family came over and we opened presents and it felt like no time had passed and that Christmas morning had lasted for days. I love decorating, sending cards, buying and wrapping presents, cooking, planning, traveling; I love it all, and I want to share that with everyone around me.<div><div><div><div><br /><div>I remember learning about Jewish history for the first time from a girl older than I was at the time; she was in high school, I was in elementary school. She gave my sister and I a little bit of the history and answered some basic questions that I felt like I should have already known the answers to. Prior to that, Judaism was quite the mystery to me. I had heard of it, but didn't really understand that much about religion in general, not being brought up as a church goer. I found it confusing that it was a religion as well as a culture, not having a frame of reference for those things being particularly related.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have been only too happy to learn even more and be exposed to more through my husband. I guess I've always felt like I should know a lot more about it. My name is a Hebrew word and people have been confused that I'm not Jewish because of it. We've been to a very traditional Jewish wedding and I so look forward to bar/bat mitzvahs of the future. I'm gradually feeling more and more at ease with my knowledge of Jewish culture and am so appreciative of that.</div><div><br /></div><div>At this time of year, I want to share my glee with everyone, especially those close to me. I'm working on learning the ways that I can share the joys of the season with my Jewish friends in ways that are more considerate of their traditions and nostalgia. I've also been fairly obsessed as of late with making Etsy treasuries (which have also been distracting me from my blogging duties). I thought it only fitting that I make a Hanukkah themed treasury and am quite pleased with the result.</div><div><a href="http://www.etsy.com/treasury_list_west.php?room_id=79567">see it here</a></div><div><br /></div><div>I sincerely hope to have at least partially tapped in to what really is fun and connected to the holiday as opposed to just presenting an alien's viewpoint of what those who observe it would want to see. Would love to hear opinions on this! Would also be into hearing any theme dreams for treasuries. I have loads of ideas myself, but would be happy to think about taking requests. I fancy myself a pretty sensitive and intuitive treasury maker. :D* </div><div><br /></div><div>Hope everyone is having a wonderful holiday season and making the most of this special time of year when celebration, yummy food and being with loved ones is a cross-cultural good thing!</div></div></div></div></div></div>selahestellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08827485557146948883noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3161328138784552436.post-44054520590997088382009-11-25T19:23:00.000-08:002009-11-25T19:40:35.927-08:00Why I married my husband Reason #57; or Happy Thanksgiving!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizFMFvTjU-mfXrQdahI-dZZRLzSsv7S6dXgg9zzMkAGO92kqqoikpeBaG2EnCW7RNknguUOUludNBl8WN5IvmQILFaFrHjBjU7X2fmXfAe6knHCEmtTKlJTD8Bo-ZYx6J2g7xePVuU5aBU/s1600/IMG_4595.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizFMFvTjU-mfXrQdahI-dZZRLzSsv7S6dXgg9zzMkAGO92kqqoikpeBaG2EnCW7RNknguUOUludNBl8WN5IvmQILFaFrHjBjU7X2fmXfAe6knHCEmtTKlJTD8Bo-ZYx6J2g7xePVuU5aBU/s400/IMG_4595.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408252081446844386" /></a><br />I have recently discovered a love of making bread. I find it really exciting to literally make food. By combining things that, alone, do not really constitute food; you can create a yummy, healthy and versatile happy loaf of goodness. I think that's neat.<div><br /><div>I'm making rolls for Thanksgiving dinner at my sister's house this year. Our babies' first Thanksgiving and her first Thanksgiving in her new home (a short walk away from mine). We're pretty jazzed and are enough past the new baby stage to be able to take on projects to make this holiday a little more fancy than it has to be. What good is being a SAHM if you don't take the time to make things special?</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm also in charge of one of those dips where you pour a prepared jar of sauce on top of some cream cheese. I got some tasty pomegranate chipotle sauce that came from Fredricksburg (one of my husband's and my fave places), but that wasn't quite fancy enough, so my sister and I decided it would be cute if I molded the cheese to be a festive shape for the occasion (you know, like you do). With our powers combined we rustled up squirrel and acorn shaped cookie cutters and I had my task set. I had never molded cream cheese using a cookie cutter (or anything else for that matter), but nothing ventured, nothing gained, eh?</div><div><br /></div><div>Upon cramming the gooey-ness into the shapes I realized that I would never get it to be nice and flat and perfect (like a jello jiggler), so I decided to push it out right away and sculpt them into presentability. They pushed out better than I'd hoped and sculpting went smoothly because I didn't lose sight of the fact that it was a dip to be eaten, not a work of art. I did have a little Stepford moment of zen when I was completely absorbed in the task though.</div><div><br /></div><div>I was pretty happy with it, but couldn't decide if I wanted to leave the eye just sculpted, or if I wanted to put a little clove in the cheese for the squirrel eye. I decided I could be just a little insane at that point, so I brought it into my husband to ask him what he thought; prefacing the question by telling him that it was silly. His response was that I, of course, needed to put the clove in, that it wasn't a silly question and that he loved me.</div></div>selahestellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08827485557146948883noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3161328138784552436.post-88553066883794722482009-11-22T21:08:00.001-08:002009-11-22T21:12:47.366-08:00Turkish Delights!I really need to go to bed now, so no time for a real post. Just wanted to share my new treasury, a tribute to some amazing artisans all the way in Turkey! I kept running across lovely items and finding many of them originating there, so decided to highlight these glorious sellers. Hope you guys like it!<div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.etsy.com/treasury_list_west.php?room_id=76655">http://www.etsy.com/treasury_list_west.php?room_id=76655</a></div><div><br /></div><div>Ugh. I think I'm getting sick. Husband has early shift, so I can't sleep in. Hope I don't feel worse in the morning; it will not be a fun day if I do.</div>selahestellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08827485557146948883noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3161328138784552436.post-40319744113766945142009-11-17T09:32:00.000-08:002009-11-17T09:54:43.510-08:00Hear! Hear!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWnk9g0dLVIrKd5_eywV1q8AXJVg_tR0Q2rAz9wvRHPPrc9OlQD1A6hnoBCseZVRheSMofqgDmcmdC1IshUUiPa7JJHjLUOtrVtRiCv71Y_RVE2mZj20eQrwcPf_N9NtMkRvKtwHFXyOTR/s1600/IMG_3686.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWnk9g0dLVIrKd5_eywV1q8AXJVg_tR0Q2rAz9wvRHPPrc9OlQD1A6hnoBCseZVRheSMofqgDmcmdC1IshUUiPa7JJHjLUOtrVtRiCv71Y_RVE2mZj20eQrwcPf_N9NtMkRvKtwHFXyOTR/s200/IMG_3686.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405130581452712706" /></a><br /><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color:#333333;">I am somewhat frequently peeved by <a href="http://books.google.com/books?id=icnKIlILT4oC&dq=usage+and+abusage&printsec=frontcover&source=bn&hl=en&ei=XN4CS_PFHdHjnAePp6R5&sa=X&oi=book_result&ct=result&resnum=4&ved=0CBYQ6AEwAw#v=onepage&q=&f=false">Usage and Abusage</a> of the English language. I'm the first to admit that I am far from perfect and am sure I am guilty of many faux pas in my written and spoken speech. The language is an odd one, full of wiggle room and exceptions. It is also a living, changing thing and can, therefore, be subject to the whims and tendencies of those using it. However, there are some wiggles and exceptions that I am not comfortable with; lest we devolve into the grunts and epithets spoken by the human race in the frighteningly plausible <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0387808/">Idiocracy</a> (by Mike Judge).</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color: #333333; min-height: 15.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color:#333333;">I took advanced English throughout my schooling. My mother started out her illustrious teaching career as an English teacher. I've been a proofreader in a professional setting. When I take the quizzes that are supposed to be able to tell you where you're from by your vernacular, the result is General American English. I have a reasonable grasp of what is and what isn't when it comes to grammar, punctuation and spelling. I try to always put two spaces after the end of a sentence* (even in texting). I admit that I'm a bit of a stickler and a dork, though I try to be as gracious as possible and mostly just worry about myself. Everyone makes mistakes. I have a chronic difficulty in spelling <i>receive</i> and <i>surprise</i> and my husband and I are constantly looking things up and learning things from each other. I often refer to websites for grammar and punctuation rules. Please do not take this as me putting myself out there as any kind of authority. </p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color: #333333; min-height: 15.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color:#333333;">My whole life I thought that if something made sense with what you knew from past experience it "jived" with what you knew. Come to find out from Bryan that it actually "jibes" with what you know. </p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color: #333333; min-height: 15.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color:#333333;">EX:</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color:#333333;">John: "Sally wants to go to the Renaissance Fair this weekend."</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color:#333333;">Trevor: "That jibes with everything I know about her."</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color: #333333; min-height: 15.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color:#333333;">I used the word "champing" (at the bit) and my husband hadn't heard it before. We looked it up and found out the "chomping at the bit" and "champing at the bit" are both accepted phrases.</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color: #333333; min-height: 15.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color:#333333;">Just this morning I wanted to agree heartily with someone on Facebook; but before I did, I had Bryan look it up so that I could clarify for myself whether it was "Here! Here!" or "Hear! Hear!" (the latter is correct).</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color: #333333; min-height: 15.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color:#333333;">It's an odd language. The important thing is to admit that we're all just doing our best and to check yourself; also to remove the stigma of helpful reminders from those around us when we blunder. That said, here are a few mistakes I've seen/heard repeatedly in recent months and would like to set the record straight (at least in my little corner of the internet).</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color: #333333; min-height: 15.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color:#333333;">I'm fairly certain that most of these are brought about by mishearing someone else and thinking you've heard them correctly, then using that version; or hearing enough people saying something incorrectly and thinking that they must be in the right. I've also encountered problems when someone has only read a word and never heard it spoken, though these are not examples of that situation. </p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color: #333333; min-height: 15.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color:#333333;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Loose/Lose</span></b></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color:#333333;">"Loose" is the opposite of tight.</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color:#333333;">"Lose" is the action of misplacing something.</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color: #333333; min-height: 15.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color:#333333;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Welt/Whelp</span></b></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color:#333333;">"Welt" is a raised bump on your skin.</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color:#333333;">"Whelp" is a young dog or wolf. Can also be used in slang to refer to a child or a young, impudent person.</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color: #333333; min-height: 15.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color:#333333;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Wheelbarrow/Wheelbarrel</span></b></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color:#333333;">It's Wheelbarrow.</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color: #333333; min-height: 15.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color:#333333;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Breath/Breathe</span></b></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color:#333333;">"Breath" is what comes out of your mouth when you "Breathe"</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color: #333333; min-height: 15.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><b>Moot/Mute</b></span></p> <p color="#333333" style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; ">"Moot" refers to something being doubtful or debatable: A moot point.</p> <p color="#333333" style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; ">"Mute" refers to a person incapable of speech or the act of silencing something.</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color: #333333; min-height: 15.0px"><br /></p> <p color="#333333" style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Peel/Peal</span></b></p> <p color="#333333" style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; ">"Peel" is the natural covering of a fruit, such as a banana peel.</p> <p color="#333333" style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; ">"Peal" is a loud burst of noise, as from bells or laughter. Ex: "There were peals of laughter coming from the cafeteria."</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color: #333333; min-height: 15.0px"><br /></p> <p color="#333333" style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; ">The word is not spelled or pronounced "Vo-lump-tuous". Even though it refers to lovely lady lumps, there's no "lump" in <b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">voluptuous</span></b>.</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color: #333333; min-height: 15.0px"><br /></p> <p color="#333333" style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Supposedly</span></b> should not be pronounced "Supposively."</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color: #333333; min-height: 15.0px"><br /></p> <p color="#333333" style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Could've</span></b> is an abbreviation for "could have;" as in "I could have done something about it, but I chose not to." It isn't "could of."</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color: #333333; min-height: 15.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color: #333333">One that I foul up all the time is an expression. I could have cared less/<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I couldn't have cared less</span></b>.</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color: #333333; min-height: 15.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color: #333333">It is so easy and common to say "I could care less." This, in writing, becomes abundantly clear as an ineffectual statement; but in everyday speech is less obviously wrong. It's easier to say than "I couldn't care less." That doesn't make it right.</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color: #333333; min-height: 15.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color: #333333"><i>Side note: I was interested to read about the origin of the word "O.K." on the yahoo home page the other day. If you didn't catch it, it was a fad in the 1850s(ish) to take a common phrase and then abbreviate it as though it were misspelled. Ex: "no good" was expressed by saying "K.G" - as if the expression were spelled "know good." Weird, huh? "O.K" is abbreviated from "oll korrect."</i></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color: #333333; min-height: 15.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color: #333333">In short, I know that much of our common and accepted language has evolved from humble human tendencies/preferences/misconceptions/habits; but I guess I just hope that these words aren't getting muddy already. I don't want to see the language degenerate any faster than it has to.</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color: #333333; min-height: 15.0px"><br /></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color: #333333; min-height: 15.0px">*Upon inserting this text into Blogspot, all my lovingly typed spaces were messed up. Feel free to point out any hypocrisies you find in this post, but I already found that one!</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color: #333333; min-height: 15.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 13.0px Georgia; color: #333333; min-height: 15.0px"><br /></p>selahestellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08827485557146948883noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3161328138784552436.post-38341642193715112742009-11-11T21:36:00.000-08:002009-11-11T21:56:04.448-08:00Zinnias!<div> <img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMAhmetn33gypVRdfr109cSl_yxqYuU3rk7Lfk34BASo1dAjrRI-R6IxyAnp__nKWYTAtLoEeuUTFPWtG6HbHSjBfQHnapwOdKNkT0jU8PaKdAmLW0cZwyfGs6Mzu5WzMLx2wSyfI2MdP_/s200/babyswitch.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403089187312235442" /></div><div>My best friend and one of the Godmothers to my daughter, Nathalie, had to move away from Austin to San Antonio a couple of months after her own daughter was born, who is now only 4.5 mos. old. My husband, Dicey and I went to visit them.</div><div><br />They are renting a house with well established landscaping, the showiest of which were the zinnias which joyfully crowded their front walk. I felt like sharing these with you.<div> <img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmNOeHI2fFbpgzVGkzCpQ-r6dwVIZKrAiJJOnWsAhq5r6KKM7gAlYy_xa_Xrict-cqC1key5pnJqEeOOt7E4LEPpYN7MIgphNs7Or5lZkPcpFBAHYwndNw6Yj48LZnhsX5ViN3SfkOQa1g/s400/zinnias.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403090023965361234" /><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT4aF6f9Iu940m22OYlBt3Qnbtp2RVeAdxJBMbkrQdRKoCaFKnDaitJr7hAW6WbPC2XBQG01Se0RHbPuIJi5-pZs10gK6923CAZ4mLTi6fZ3Cvb_zL3gRj3MomgFUhQwzRmicXmsUTUIHQ/s400/zinnias3.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403090376837844418" /><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikep1bv8QnW7UrSVLzIJ-4LYBhKOxRjnRdCVmY-ccHLggd9xEbBWry2N-UYQGEEQ-xyPVE-2EufWlH5jhp5mBykckp5t8-forQAO_QCFMPS6SGSy_sSWAhC80ixpeWcPX65C5QdcFuSrX-/s200/zinnias7.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403090843874215826" /><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJXaYR89-UQ4uHjuXNEQeyJ-mhIa7diNlkcOM6omk-VJoJEuRVnbvrOoo_Na_v22krR7jGv3dJwix-XB56xn4azPD3OMYAIAcL-0KOvxyjb79YarA7PFlCG8jHy7MymDuIvK1zmZoHIXsL/s200/zinnias6.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403090838470046754" /><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqFtl-S_lSXLLzK1OYKh9w-wHjUSsZMx2j7qIBAVIZXbvk7_y64zSI-0cPdCnhcdJmR-aDp3gIF6gpMIFq90nmdnaIf3XPy6dkgAr1AvzXD3VqRUYdDbsGX2Lck0FMrQp9JSZZdixdmPDH/s200/zinnias4.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403090835536771154" /></div><div><br /></div><div>I've recently become quite fond of zinnias. I purchased some on clearance at my local megalo hardware store and they went ape in my front yard. Then they shriveled up and turned brown. I pulled them up by the roots, but more popped up with our little second summer here in Texas. It seems like they spread, which, with their happy color and jubilant tiny flowers in the centers, could only be good as far as I can tell. I love the red one's little flower crown and how the pink one just has the one tiny fleur. So fun! Zinnia Love!</div><div><br /></div></div>selahestellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08827485557146948883noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3161328138784552436.post-15349827936143749682009-11-09T15:00:00.000-08:002009-11-09T15:43:35.679-08:00I MET TOM TIERNEY!!!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTZelbcvAI6fHz4b68_kev6tBGCaRBzjchcJUHsuexe-BYMAsK9MHHp7YEoGQc_dVHPf2ZQjGQKSnKK8TbDfc3tuC_iYGRAn9AWAO5wstYrO85alHEZ5lknecBAItmECbK4G5hy6g5II9T/s1600-h/TOMTIERNEY!!!.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 163px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTZelbcvAI6fHz4b68_kev6tBGCaRBzjchcJUHsuexe-BYMAsK9MHHp7YEoGQc_dVHPf2ZQjGQKSnKK8TbDfc3tuC_iYGRAn9AWAO5wstYrO85alHEZ5lknecBAItmECbK4G5hy6g5II9T/s200/TOMTIERNEY!!!.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402248031101430818" /></a><br />I went to an art fair to check out the lovely <a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop/katinkapinka">katinkapinka</a>'s booth of delightful curiosities and was totally blindsided by the opportunity to meet one of my favorite artists, none other than the utterly charming <a href="http://www.tomtierney.com/">Tom Tierney</a>! My sister had arrived earlier than I did and was the one to alert me by cell phone as the venue was confusing and convoluted and we had no chance of finding each other in person. As luck would have it, I was very close to where she was, so I didn't have to wait long before I got to meet, hug and chat with this lovely man.<div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 144px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcA31pKkP0lW49NPNZg0s0tsr5La5N3N7iX896ndmL3dS2q1xvtGyRjyT0sqkqRgx7OvWRiS6nE4xOgfH2FDzN7IHF55vfb22ubxRFuzrL___nHnXK76CfJbHM2mZY_-BkkJRVdPuuCy_U/s200/tierney.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402247497601636194" /></div><div>I grew up loving his paper doll books, as my mother had several. They were special and not to be cut up, but they were so artful and engaging that I didn't really mind. (I think I did try to cut one up once though, sorry mom!). I now try to acquire them whenever I come across them at the second hand bookstore my husband works for. If I bought them new, I would be in the poor house, they're inexpensive, but geez this man is prolific! I can only hope to be as vibrant and relevant when I'm 81 yrs. old!</div><div><br /></div><div>He was born in Texas :D*, has lived in New York, but last year decided to move to Smithville (small town between Austin and Houston) to be closer to his family. I couldn't be more thrilled. He has a studio there with a shop underneath and they're having a paper doll party in March! I'm also fortunate to have an artist husband who not only knows who he is, but likes his work and totally appreciates all this and is on board for us making the day trip with our baby girl.</div><div><br /></div><div>He was exceedingly gracious, giving me an autograph and telling us the most amazing stories from his impressive, decade spanning career. Including how he met Greta Garbo and the impeccable <a href="http://www.erte.com/default-old.htm">Erte</a>!!!</div><div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 146px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi15qezknBjU2p31gYBXDvNJYwpx9QOoJNPjcjD0SkxbX6UrKmP265T5C1n_OwEEztbNjqmAp9ubdWzelP3QCtpqRoHwml1qHgfVBv2zW43yuIXnATqWYjZrly5SBww8FZIfzlM9UE_sOx4/s200/tierney3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402247502805210962" /><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuDwZI0ICYb6Uqw8GEaANOSA6tM6jD5EpzvT7mWB7Mq3e9veZUFq13EtRvXytG8vjio2yXYbt8_Ic5z7Vc6QAZ0ymdwyumcqLqMIYaWvq22A2czsV_epliKRCFf7jmHX3Bpc8CIKsJUwz8/s200/erte.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402247495807809922" /></div><div><br /></div><div>He also walked us through several of his books, telling us interesting facts and tidbits about movie and costume history that you can only get from a firsthand account. It was amazing.</div><div>I could have listened to him all day and hope to visit with him some more when I go to the paper doll party. (who wouldn't want to go to a paper doll party?!)</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway, I thought I would share, as it's always notable when one meets an art hero. Plus, some of you may have been unaware of his work, so I'm thrilled to offer him some unnecessary exposure! I could go on and on, but wanted to post this ASAP.</div><div><br /></div><div>In other news, I actually have a treasury up right now! It's a miracle whenever this happens as it's tricky business. Please go check it out and click on the links, I think the amount of traffic helps it to be eligible for the front page!</div><div><a href="http://www.etsy.com/treasury_list_west.php?room_id=75013">http://www.etsy.com/treasury_list_west.php?room_id=75013</a></div>selahestellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08827485557146948883noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3161328138784552436.post-17753590498113381652009-11-03T08:44:00.000-08:002009-11-03T09:30:56.331-08:00November...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGn3JDyZKNCnFFrA7RrvI7-N9bsxhFRGmDDzim2AGFB6tdUASzXjHFTIdMX4Bl-TFUCemvRWEv5eQVJRLBuWwrz5gnIejAPUK39SfeLyHBFf7Nxf1G0rA7QBmQE1Ui7AYYDdWMuyqE0u55/s1600-h/chairrun.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGn3JDyZKNCnFFrA7RrvI7-N9bsxhFRGmDDzim2AGFB6tdUASzXjHFTIdMX4Bl-TFUCemvRWEv5eQVJRLBuWwrz5gnIejAPUK39SfeLyHBFf7Nxf1G0rA7QBmQE1Ui7AYYDdWMuyqE0u55/s200/chairrun.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399926493464149010" /></a><br />Is upon me! Now that Halloween is past, I feel a little crazed about all the things I want to get done by Christmas, which seems to loom large in the very near future. I'm also full of holiday spirit as I remember my holidays last year leading up to my daughter being born just before midnight on Christmas day. I'm excited to think of all the traditions that we'll create in the years to come and defying the odds of Christmas birthdays being a drag. My husband and I are committed to making her birthday just as special, if not more so, as if it were any other time of year. So there!<div><br /></div><div>I have several custom orders from friends and family to complete; makes me feel good to be busy, even if it's business from biased sources, it's still business!</div><div><br /></div><div>My headaches have subsided for the most part. I wonder if I was stressed about Halloween? Surprising, but maybe that was it. Halloween was wonderful, incidentally. I couldn't have asked for a better 1st one for my baby girl. She had a great day. While I got ready she played with all my stage makeup on the floor of the bathroom. We visited her Daddy at his work (a bookstore) along with my sister and her family, who were also in costume. </div><div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhATJfynyGT-x5v1eA_kiA1dzZylkPxsadLKuy0Lw5c-RwZ6D-uIetsBE77Sq2NasQ72AaLXdGDWNY8-YpLlhAAjy7yNVC4153bBT6M8WS81ncGRsToSjQFJfJbFkJWpHyTd9esC2NrIa0V/s200/dandd.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399926490736965138" /><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpbqa91RU-bnZl-tzyc-7X2EVAKWxQI77KYa1PaHrfzcYJVHvJzhyphenhyphenh1shyphenhyphenzBaZSo3bDMUpwgEEVjxea3dvlpW4BmzfeWaUlfoe-Tz9jzDrBuuyu6o-xKa7bdXqovmIOkhdXOHxfgQC_nPr/s200/threebears1.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399926497915553746" /></div><div>A pit stop at the smoothie place afterwards was grand fun and delighted the smoothie girls as well. On the way to the car, D had a blowout and got her entire outfit dirty, but I had taken her important costume components off already and had spares of what she was wearing. I also didn't have any wipes with me (she really never has these blowouts, it was quite the fluke) but it happened when Celena was still very close by so the Bears came to the rescue and it ended up being no big deal. The weather was really nice too.</div><div><br /></div><div>Then we went to our neighbors' little girl's birthday/Halloween party; where Dicey got to have a couple nibbles of cake and found lots of things to pick up off the floor and was so excited to be in a crowd of kids. She was totally comfortable in her costume, which made me want to burst with pride. </div><div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibTdca0Bel3S5XrSptaenEW4UEjVI89oI_Mg8j5D5RH6ZYaTc4fxrAiIHUnUUIHDmGi8BcnHSYJMutGfXn93KepZn-bdo24cv0Xh19Ud3vcOsuZ6c-dhSfXP3STwOwv50RgZHHFpwsllhw/s200/danddel.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399928057053713970" /><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL0ZpZTX3KHNKP67Cw25aSTTLsKpQCCj0XUEukn5y1G3BNenBqhiyf9HPltFoHJilla4n8im_itDA96wgyPkJmf3SYz5MjGGPgsa5KbZdwKnjKBdSlGMzSNHxKkeiSQvO1nxx0dbSOlEcT/s200/floorsnacks.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399928070432291906" /></div><div>We hung out on the neighbors' driveway, playing with tiny pumpkins and kids until it started to get dark and trick or treaters were coming. Dicey waved at the kids when they came to our door and got to meet her first parrot, Gustavo! </div><div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKNCyxwL0Tn87bdcBWCgqDQ1hrgRzjyK3GScAFzcxj0MjALWxlBW5zXSUq0ckBMTRDoyVwUz9aOUC_hBq4Igh0xffjaQoCQ0JFFZvXWfxaA_t20gyu_pp-quwHu8gzvo9B5djIH7Z9l_RK/s200/dface3.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399929658423194754" /><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6wU71WFcnytkB8QaxAZTmbkpXpc3KSaFMRPNDLyXuTSrWEYyQgJP8S0gt9vTwNctIiiS0EuGtJ1pyX2vlTjB8rAGrHobfCA5L7MH8YUyPODr5zH0W9V46oJMYzz7e021N5h9UwyzPfx_j/s200/maxpump2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399929666433980258" /><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWfMztuErNqhyphenhyphenZWdR_44MuykJ7ch-r_FIcXCDNzbe-BraiQhKkS2-o6bzvnQSq992sz6tq_d0Tl2LRozsV-MG0KFWM98ZKGoSqgyYxnuGsELWlYp2xVYgn8ly63vX6Pbj15kkzVYEwxey1/s200/parrot.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399929669734820466" /></div><div>We kept the babies up a little bit late because of daylight savings time, which was fun because D likes to stay up later than normal for exciting things. The Bears stayed and we watched ridiculous horror movies while passing out candy and eating pizza.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm in denial about Christmas present shopping though. I hope I don't start getting headaches before every holiday!</div>selahestellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08827485557146948883noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3161328138784552436.post-38647058291940516162009-10-29T14:04:00.000-07:002009-10-29T14:17:53.281-07:00blurred visionI have had a headache almost all day. I took Tylenol (won't take anything stronger, still a nursing mom!). It started when I was at the computer, so I shouldn't be doing this right now. I went to go get a bowl of cereal and a glass of water because I thought that would fix it. When I got back to the computer, I was having trouble with my vision. I thought it was just the computer screen, but I was in the middle of a task I really wanted to get done, so I pushed forward. It didn't get any worse, but it didn't get any better. I kept blinking and trying different things, but it was like there was a smear on one of the lenses of my glasses that (within itself) was wavering around. <div><br /></div><div>My husband came home for lunch and brought me another snack and a coke; I thought the caffeine would help. I didn't really notice the vision issue for awhile, but the headache was still there.</div><div><br /></div><div>The vision problem came back later on after my daughter woke up from her nap, it was getting pretty bad, so I walked over to my sister's house to distract myself from focusing on the issue. It went away again, but I still have a headache. I had something similar in high school once with a really bad migraine. It was the same eye and kind of the same spot, but farther into my peripheral vision and just a fuzzy round spot, not a arc of wavy vision. This time I wouldn't go so far as to say my headache was as bad as a migraine. I've had those enough to know the difference. Well, guess if there's blurred vision, it's likely a migraine, but just not as bad pain wise? Not entirely sure. Should I be worried or is this sometimes just a fluke? Haven't had headache/migraine issues for a while, and even when I did it wasn't that bad or something I couldn't usually deal with by eating something and going to sleep or putting ice on my neck. </div><div><br /></div><div>Off to take a shower and try ice on my neck.</div>selahestellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08827485557146948883noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3161328138784552436.post-47318924698070235052009-10-25T14:07:00.000-07:002009-10-25T16:02:48.436-07:00Costume Basic for Baby 12 easy steps!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvEcVC_6rlyLGUhqhJkVovYdYRUhVGKPFtr3qIDOt5l4jKFyBOjbWFivKyoFQzjZzAoVKx8U5zfhp-AhCVDt-fpPAZvL1q2NkIVxBUKN2x5mjDhR3LeN786uUYG3YIvQI1iIkZa-2pOthl/s1600-h/briderobe.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvEcVC_6rlyLGUhqhJkVovYdYRUhVGKPFtr3qIDOt5l4jKFyBOjbWFivKyoFQzjZzAoVKx8U5zfhp-AhCVDt-fpPAZvL1q2NkIVxBUKN2x5mjDhR3LeN786uUYG3YIvQI1iIkZa-2pOthl/s320/briderobe.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396668436489977026" /></a><br /><div>This is a pattern that I created for my 10 month old <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">(who is a little on the small side, but this would fit a wide range of sizes)</span> daughter's Bride of Frankenstein Halloween costume using cloth diapers! She will be wearing a long sleeved white onesie, long white pants and white socks underneath. I have also made her a Bride hairdo hat to complete the look. This tutorial is for the white gown/robe/tunic portion of her costume. Click on the pictures for larger versions of these images!</div><div><br /></div><div>You will need:</div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">4 white cloth diapers (the kind everyone uses as burp cloths these days)</span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">white thread</span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">needle</span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">4 snaps</span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">(sewing machine is preferable for a couple of steps*, but not necessary)</span></i></div><div><br /></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Steps 1-2</span></b></div><div>First, you lay out two of the diapers; then fold over the inside edges to the middle, away from each other.</div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2akbybDCghTEvSTWsTOMbr10bxV-OqKb0_LeyTClB0uJe2Ac5M3oqdCOoPxufjXPG-AmTMWAvQ56Q22FzhQykBclXzlR8kV4V7X7wVpmSYrgs5ZfngLgCcSr8vgqL45TtPshP4SgpLIqq/s1600-h/4043067643_5626d14fb2_b.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2akbybDCghTEvSTWsTOMbr10bxV-OqKb0_LeyTClB0uJe2Ac5M3oqdCOoPxufjXPG-AmTMWAvQ56Q22FzhQykBclXzlR8kV4V7X7wVpmSYrgs5ZfngLgCcSr8vgqL45TtPshP4SgpLIqq/s200/4043067643_5626d14fb2_b.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396649025407498786" style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8kXQCnweunYF_4vY8VCeBNVydg4B-jLa3soMzQC84hH-13SqG-qfase6Fa7doDvn0pJWdHmtFts3NeSgtiOCTFnc2kIAWECDABOWcC5U1_hN4_8S8ansQIbvMvjGcu_knYHiL5blRNhLT/s1600-h/4043765438_1c97ca3b61_b.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8kXQCnweunYF_4vY8VCeBNVydg4B-jLa3soMzQC84hH-13SqG-qfase6Fa7doDvn0pJWdHmtFts3NeSgtiOCTFnc2kIAWECDABOWcC5U1_hN4_8S8ansQIbvMvjGcu_knYHiL5blRNhLT/s200/4043765438_1c97ca3b61_b.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396648053132555682" style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Steps 3-4</span></b></div><div>Next, sandwich the top edges of the diapers together so that the open flaps of the foldover are on the inside. Sew all four layers together just to the width of the folded over section. This creates your first shoulder seam. You will repeat steps 1-3 on your other 2 diapers so that you have 2 halves of your costume.</div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8kXQCnweunYF_4vY8VCeBNVydg4B-jLa3soMzQC84hH-13SqG-qfase6Fa7doDvn0pJWdHmtFts3NeSgtiOCTFnc2kIAWECDABOWcC5U1_hN4_8S8ansQIbvMvjGcu_knYHiL5blRNhLT/s1600-h/4043765438_1c97ca3b61_b.jpg"></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3d0v-0ldIrB9tjbGoYjzeMRICJhHSb-eNSMggm9v5duJfOr-nGdqiTgclgLMGhMLY3U0f6VMtIg2Xgy6CWsz_DCnpiUwIlfdAxRDORubNEDrTwkI5I6i2_ozgaRO2c8ALulp1mc9tTtSn/s1600-h/4043535286_2035ebb3e7_b.jpg"> <img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3d0v-0ldIrB9tjbGoYjzeMRICJhHSb-eNSMggm9v5duJfOr-nGdqiTgclgLMGhMLY3U0f6VMtIg2Xgy6CWsz_DCnpiUwIlfdAxRDORubNEDrTwkI5I6i2_ozgaRO2c8ALulp1mc9tTtSn/s200/4043535286_2035ebb3e7_b.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396648467169127794" style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5mMuJdYzA3Tr065Ry1EwFE4EpZsVOJC8C_7kzjM985-aRfpEcStifc2liHBrs94Q4SAZfEF3JGVaUSZvVWbmMxvrw4gzkw1-EGc9pY0mbaRWkG86QCz3-gpkCnjY5XPYju1GALmfGDN-Y/s1600-h/4043108605_d537e6cf08_b.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5mMuJdYzA3Tr065Ry1EwFE4EpZsVOJC8C_7kzjM985-aRfpEcStifc2liHBrs94Q4SAZfEF3JGVaUSZvVWbmMxvrw4gzkw1-EGc9pY0mbaRWkG86QCz3-gpkCnjY5XPYju1GALmfGDN-Y/s200/4043108605_d537e6cf08_b.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396649020449904578" style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px; " /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> This caption reads (other side of stitched edge) It shows you what the shoulder of your finished costume looks like when it's folded right side out.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Steps 5-7</span></b></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Now, lay your costume halves wrong side out again. Bring the two long edges that were folded over in step 2 together to make a side seam <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">*easier with a sewing machine</span></i>; leaving space for an armhole. Again, do this for the other half of your costume as well.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDU81QllHH4pRpBFMtMVhydubUSSyQ-X2n_CrvXQr2ggN2P4j8wmDEXPsg1wHLDuFhk66Zd3QFaMviYv72aP2cDEIZ-tL2JXzznAxrlRdLwS8gfQWJZDtcKQFsTKP8xigrBRBeiogE1xnF/s1600-h/4043342397_3370fcceca_b.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDU81QllHH4pRpBFMtMVhydubUSSyQ-X2n_CrvXQr2ggN2P4j8wmDEXPsg1wHLDuFhk66Zd3QFaMviYv72aP2cDEIZ-tL2JXzznAxrlRdLwS8gfQWJZDtcKQFsTKP8xigrBRBeiogE1xnF/s200/4043342397_3370fcceca_b.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396649018960075282" style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRF1KNYoM0UUv2JKnd_7PIxmLVq2MRZdIN6kSbS60FycP6CuaCMx4NBOp3kU3zi6xn2KYElXwDEkfyU7YIMY40ALQT4PSwxjHWz4bN2L2PUqI_XlCamtBPfqyJvzNCW_rtG9_-ntwdnc_N/s1600-h/4043538060_744fcd8155_b.jpg"> <img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRF1KNYoM0UUv2JKnd_7PIxmLVq2MRZdIN6kSbS60FycP6CuaCMx4NBOp3kU3zi6xn2KYElXwDEkfyU7YIMY40ALQT4PSwxjHWz4bN2L2PUqI_XlCamtBPfqyJvzNCW_rtG9_-ntwdnc_N/s200/4043538060_744fcd8155_b.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396648462786445282" style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv2V95kUMpRjgt6WYg1Ae3uUTAjCJ3v7-FxL1G6lx92nMy9zR9KiBhWU5qTsxnLMrtJ1YrcYtaUW5DmBxHPh08t7N2AUof7i2TlF9DuwyS_Df6oVQwsFnzj4D6Ml5xzX5p8iQr0EGgwWwQ/s1600-h/4043538848_578a8ba19a_b.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv2V95kUMpRjgt6WYg1Ae3uUTAjCJ3v7-FxL1G6lx92nMy9zR9KiBhWU5qTsxnLMrtJ1YrcYtaUW5DmBxHPh08t7N2AUof7i2TlF9DuwyS_Df6oVQwsFnzj4D6Ml5xzX5p8iQr0EGgwWwQ/s200/4043538848_578a8ba19a_b.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396648059596706210" style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px; " /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Step 8</span></b></div><div>Now to start bringing your two halves together! First <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">(a somewhat optional step - mostly for aesthetics, somewhat for fitting)</span></i> accordion fold and stitch the top edge <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">(the leftover part that was not sewn into your shoulder seam)</span> of one of your front-of-the-costume pieces to create a gather at the neckline of the costume. Do so to the other half as well.</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBgzo1qhdb1R6UB6sKiEeFAVB-ZoZ3RZRf1CGAUOw2mCIl-uTyQsqUgoHhhzYA5Fe2KBiixmh2KVgxJ9-ykCQyfQ4mXmZ2pljRDYTZtwb0hiYmc7ueVlVKphMCSvLhCoFE542rzl6UkOcX/s1600-h/4042794917_a6f91e8941_b.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBgzo1qhdb1R6UB6sKiEeFAVB-ZoZ3RZRf1CGAUOw2mCIl-uTyQsqUgoHhhzYA5Fe2KBiixmh2KVgxJ9-ykCQyfQ4mXmZ2pljRDYTZtwb0hiYmc7ueVlVKphMCSvLhCoFE542rzl6UkOcX/s200/4042794917_a6f91e8941_b.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396649029037912850" /></a><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Steps 9-10</span></b></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBgzo1qhdb1R6UB6sKiEeFAVB-ZoZ3RZRf1CGAUOw2mCIl-uTyQsqUgoHhhzYA5Fe2KBiixmh2KVgxJ9-ykCQyfQ4mXmZ2pljRDYTZtwb0hiYmc7ueVlVKphMCSvLhCoFE542rzl6UkOcX/s1600-h/4042794917_a6f91e8941_b.jpg"></a>Next, bring the two long edges that form the front of your costume together and sew the entire length <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">*easier with a sewing machine</span></i>. The gathered edges should be at the top of the seam you are creating. You will then (another aesthetic step) fold over just the edge of your gathered section and stitch it down so that the serged edge doesn't show on the front of the costume.</div><div><br /><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBgzo1qhdb1R6UB6sKiEeFAVB-ZoZ3RZRf1CGAUOw2mCIl-uTyQsqUgoHhhzYA5Fe2KBiixmh2KVgxJ9-ykCQyfQ4mXmZ2pljRDYTZtwb0hiYmc7ueVlVKphMCSvLhCoFE542rzl6UkOcX/s1600-h/4042794917_a6f91e8941_b.jpg"></a><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSijUqyA9VZRb-wgHjeRTqECPfb1gCLuvVWP54ePM4odbhfZ9vJOu0NMDne-c4OLY5GXdq1LbqGaNgx8NyJ6T35DmCDVjyN4kPgapuFitxlx3_f-dVOEZ0gXORwxpYXKX_fN_KFkQ1YUl0/s1600-h/4043392505_317f7902a4_b.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSijUqyA9VZRb-wgHjeRTqECPfb1gCLuvVWP54ePM4odbhfZ9vJOu0NMDne-c4OLY5GXdq1LbqGaNgx8NyJ6T35DmCDVjyN4kPgapuFitxlx3_f-dVOEZ0gXORwxpYXKX_fN_KFkQ1YUl0/s200/4043392505_317f7902a4_b.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396648472233479266" style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px; " /></a> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4QfIFEuHVnnYnGKiNrYucy7-tUrGwrgyLVibO4JyQ_NRLlqbo3TKKRrW0FX_iM0ddptOrxIVx26BAxKdFOvD2qcFKtV75v5u_mtT1MLXaYr6JHCLvq2p2bFpY-4rZNRvn-3nXM791h4Pi/s1600-h/4043407285_4a70705796_b.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4QfIFEuHVnnYnGKiNrYucy7-tUrGwrgyLVibO4JyQ_NRLlqbo3TKKRrW0FX_iM0ddptOrxIVx26BAxKdFOvD2qcFKtV75v5u_mtT1MLXaYr6JHCLvq2p2bFpY-4rZNRvn-3nXM791h4Pi/s200/4043407285_4a70705796_b.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396648469696407698" style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Step 11</span></b></div><div>Check your costume. It is almost complete! 11a is what the front should look like; 11b is the back.</div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4QfIFEuHVnnYnGKiNrYucy7-tUrGwrgyLVibO4JyQ_NRLlqbo3TKKRrW0FX_iM0ddptOrxIVx26BAxKdFOvD2qcFKtV75v5u_mtT1MLXaYr6JHCLvq2p2bFpY-4rZNRvn-3nXM791h4Pi/s1600-h/4043407285_4a70705796_b.jpg"></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEh6X4QDBhmVeTU54_1_-FN6Xrx4qHrDRYx-pt4alPs-lpV1eD-AWGQxLJ5prkoq6hXXe3G_J9SotMg6DEUy5SF_PeRIzmU8aRbrxy50hfCEq8gY2vGxR0UttTJj2xNuuc3FazjGzJildC/s1600-h/4043541698_ca24c99fee_b.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEh6X4QDBhmVeTU54_1_-FN6Xrx4qHrDRYx-pt4alPs-lpV1eD-AWGQxLJ5prkoq6hXXe3G_J9SotMg6DEUy5SF_PeRIzmU8aRbrxy50hfCEq8gY2vGxR0UttTJj2xNuuc3FazjGzJildC/s200/4043541698_ca24c99fee_b.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396648055173297250" style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></a> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc5UVsapG3ZRgRl1JcVBQbHc9HRA-07vQCTLUAohKWnb9YZJjM0HZ8s8ea6juI3lCujTg4Um8FHWDyyOFLLBEjC0RocBkzMu1cpt8Ma3Hoiq_A2HKNDn2-WTHYXgC3L6f62RgvK0de9mpj/s1600-h/4044180346_3d51b50152_b.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc5UVsapG3ZRgRl1JcVBQbHc9HRA-07vQCTLUAohKWnb9YZJjM0HZ8s8ea6juI3lCujTg4Um8FHWDyyOFLLBEjC0RocBkzMu1cpt8Ma3Hoiq_A2HKNDn2-WTHYXgC3L6f62RgvK0de9mpj/s200/4044180346_3d51b50152_b.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396648050600327490" style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px; " /> </a></div><div><br /></div><div>Step 12</div><div>On the back of your costume, there are two side pieces of cloth diaper that will overlap easily when you hold the garment by the shoulder seams. In order to finish the costume, you will need to sew 4 snaps (2 pieces to a snap = 8 sides to sew) so that they will serve to adequately close the back of the costume and keep it from falling open when your child bumbles around in it. You could do this step with velcro, ties, buttons, hooks and eyes, etc. Whatever your preference is will probably work just fine.</div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc5UVsapG3ZRgRl1JcVBQbHc9HRA-07vQCTLUAohKWnb9YZJjM0HZ8s8ea6juI3lCujTg4Um8FHWDyyOFLLBEjC0RocBkzMu1cpt8Ma3Hoiq_A2HKNDn2-WTHYXgC3L6f62RgvK0de9mpj/s1600-h/4044180346_3d51b50152_b.jpg"></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8fZOFy6bfezdNWbdEauCXoIccPW4olETPhPTogO-YDXQjj5XtwJIya7eADSO-piZkB2Y6gENZIr4hWBfgehar0lAXaKibh-6GaUYO0TQ_sL6GGn7hxwwSraE_2NU2YxOHYS7nT93S7TTa/s1600-h/4042799267_1e7c73b3bd_b.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8fZOFy6bfezdNWbdEauCXoIccPW4olETPhPTogO-YDXQjj5XtwJIya7eADSO-piZkB2Y6gENZIr4hWBfgehar0lAXaKibh-6GaUYO0TQ_sL6GGn7hxwwSraE_2NU2YxOHYS7nT93S7TTa/s200/4042799267_1e7c73b3bd_b.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396649026836310322" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>I'm using this pattern for the Bride of Frankenstein, but it would work for many fun characters; such as Princess Leia, Gandalf, Mr. Spock from Star Trek IV, a ghost who didn't like to have their face covered...and that's just with it being white! You could throw it in the sink or washing machine with some fabric dye of your choice and the possibilities would be endless!!! :D*</div><div><br /></div><div>The cloth diapers I used were ones with a pretty thick middle section. I preferred these as they created the big square shoulder that I was trying to achieve. You could use a less padded diaper if you wanted less of a shoulder pad effect.</div><div><br /> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDiV07Y6797_C8RmxQ2xcT0K8rbq704vuREmH_Vz9DB9tGDWlshIxYjza_7xeteO_oX5pO6VvgIZUkT-aZbUOcOKa3j_c2lqJHywTfWJRa9DKNVmYVHBG8bb5_FceXvXQY4vwrr38jRC4H/s1600-h/IMG_2782.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDiV07Y6797_C8RmxQ2xcT0K8rbq704vuREmH_Vz9DB9tGDWlshIxYjza_7xeteO_oX5pO6VvgIZUkT-aZbUOcOKa3j_c2lqJHywTfWJRa9DKNVmYVHBG8bb5_FceXvXQY4vwrr38jRC4H/s200/IMG_2782.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396669110514772642" style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /></div></div></div>selahestellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08827485557146948883noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3161328138784552436.post-81693885616155408782009-10-17T21:16:00.001-07:002009-10-18T11:38:45.504-07:00New items in Shoppe!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfS-9LEff189twIWQ_qGwj_EUQh35rGv95U2xyKGy13oJgp2VPNpHl1onukO7GGaHKwGIFmzuSoiEEYo7NZFWSoCWR-lPd9CIrXE3xWD3YUFyAVu5wqnnyw5BY4HAtAsv6iiza7gOpFa5A/s1600-h/megoodcute.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfS-9LEff189twIWQ_qGwj_EUQh35rGv95U2xyKGy13oJgp2VPNpHl1onukO7GGaHKwGIFmzuSoiEEYo7NZFWSoCWR-lPd9CIrXE3xWD3YUFyAVu5wqnnyw5BY4HAtAsv6iiza7gOpFa5A/s200/megoodcute.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393794099443166210" /></a><br />So, I'm starting to list my tiny embroidered ball earrings in my shoppe. This is my first foray into a wearable item and I'm pretty excited about it.<div> <img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Q6csHdCBRy3Lbv7GkUE8wiodgruXhGc2at7KOAeiNhL-ADF_FmNN3YLwFmKQYfTA7MUJRhucpmBEPBEnw5yxkzhF_p-mL-3kp-tfOWcfCyVcImKJZGJB0sCdBFyOd3YJn7vNpjvumuSg/s320/tinyscale.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393793689555545378" /></div><div>I have my sister, <a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5099954">celenajustine</a> to thank for the idea. When I first started embroidering ornaments, I wanted to experiment with all different sizes and bought some tiny styrofoam balls just to see what would happen. I made my first one and it was harder than I thought it would be! The smallness makes it more challenging to keep the base thread wrapping from slipping off while you wrap it and your hand cramps really bad from having to tightly hold such a little ball for a prolonged period. </div><div><br /></div><div>My sister sees my frustrating effort, loves it, and, of course, states that she wants earrings. Aaargh. Of course my sister not only wants more, but she wants matching pairs to boot! But seriously, I think it's a neato idea. I've never seen anyone else who makes them. (Correct me if I'm wrong, please!) Plus, with how many amazing temari artists there are out there who make me look like a total amateur, it's nice to feel like I'm doing something unique with the technique. </div><div><br /></div><div>I also have <a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5048802">KatinkaPinka</a> to thank in part for this new product coming together. I had already bought some earwires for my hypothetical earrings, but when I purchased some lovely felt ball earrings from dear Katinka, I knew that the kidney earwires were the way to go. I inspected them and asked her a few questions, she was wonderful as usual! So, with a little help from my friends, I am now an earring monger. Never thought that would happen. But then, I never thought I would do a lot of things I've done this year!</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 72px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5c_kepmjtjUyNuNYss3EpR0UIPLf6CFRKUCSHXJGXD_CcoDVRqWYb2wiRna2N_O2VrA28cUhGDwLc7mvRABRuUCE9UO6k_38hpgPA5M1NniOL8HZZdLFBm8xP4fi2VI1UBY4pOKlOJHjz/s320/banner.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393793076083547378" /></div><div>Also, finally put up a new banner in the shop. My sister <i>hand carved</i> herself a sign for a show we were planning on doing (though we didn't get accepted!) and, being the dominant twin, I told her to make me one too! She was actually kind enough and generous enough to do so. She's been too busy to finish the sanding, so it hasn't actually been stained yet, but I did some photo editing on it and I'm pretty happy with it; think it suits the look of my shoppe and could be a long term fixture! Thank you Celena!</div>selahestellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08827485557146948883noreply@blogger.com5