Decoupage My Heart

Every once in a while I'm bitten by the decoupage bug. For the better part of the past week my fingers were encased in a glue-like sheath. It seemed once I started altering one thing I found oodles of other things around the house begging for a new outfit. It actually started with some new paper storage boxes...made out of an old cereal box. They'd just been sitting on my craft desk looking rather Corn-Poppish...so out came the trusty bottle of Mod Podge.

Happy with the results, my gaze suddenly came to rest on some red holographic, paper covered, heart-shaped boxes. I've had them for years and I have to admit, I've never really appreciated them.

Now, decoupage is not as complicated as it's rather hoity-toity name. I think I'll post a tutorial later this week. I was so into the project that I didn't take pictures of the process. I really want you all to know how very easy this technique is and how versatile it's applications can be.

Anyway, some decoupage glue, beautiful scrapbooking sheets and 10 super sticky fingers later, this is what I ended up with.

I'm sure to enjoy using these much more each year when I bring out the Valentine's decorations. I'm almost sad to put them away for the year. Better find something else to decoupage....QUICK!

Scarf Love

I'm becoming a girlie in my old age.  It seems that I missed out on all the frilly, flowery, pink girlie goodness in my younger years and I'm making up for it now.  Head bands...head bands with flowers....chunky rhinestone pins...hats...  Yeah, I'm doing it up right.
Today, I'm partaking in a little bit 'o scarf love.  Since I started knitting last year I've been in love with all things scarf.  After all, if you're a novice knitter there's not much you can screw up in a scarf.  It's just...knit, knit, knit, knit, knit....next row, repeat.  Until today I haven't been brave enough to wear one of those gorgeous scaves in an accessory capacity; they've mostly been used in a cold-Nebraska-winter utilitarian fashion.  I got some lovely scarves for Christmas from my cousins.  Noticing that my black sweater, black pants outfit was lacking in color and, well, character this morning, I boldly tied one of the beauties around my neck and jaunted out the door.

I had a spectacular day.  I wrote a poem for an advertisement at work!  Yes!  Me!  A poem!  And it was a little bit of allright! (Backstory....my horoscope said that I should avoid written communication today...if I was a teacher, I should stick to some audio-visual aides and if I was a writer, I should stick to graphs and charts.  Ha!  In your face stars of "fate"!)  I also completely rearranged my kids rooms during my 10 minute afternoon break.  Okay, it was in my head; but, I have it all planned out.
The day was full of stunning clarity.  Ever have one of those moments when a light bulb flickers to life in your brain and suddenly you realize you've been going about things all wrong?  Totally me today!  I had quite a few of those good old, "I shoulda had a V-8" moments complete with face-palm jestures.  Perhaps 36 is the age of enlightenment?
I may be quirky, but I'm owing it to my scarf, which shall from this day hence be known as my Lucky Scarf.  I plan on testing it out at the bar this weekend.  No, no.  I'm just joking.  I'm going to be a good mommy this weekend.  Good mommy in the sense that I won't be trolling the bars with Lucky.  :)
Could it be that some celestial energy has been woven in to it's strands?

Could it have been blessed along the way by a luck pixie who happily sprinkled it with her magic dust?

I know I've been horribly neglectful of my little blog lately.  I have been in a whirlwind lately getting ready for Valentine's day and then family came for my birthday.  I have lots of catching up to do and lots to share!  But, that will have to wait for another day.  For it's off to bed for me now.  I have a big day with one of my besties planned.  A little decompression/retail therapy is just what is needed by both of us so we are off to far away lands where Michael's and Hobby Lobby and Whole Foods can be found and conquered.
I wonder?  Should I wear my scarf? 

Life is Like a Box of Chocolates

Valentine's Day is just around the corner.  I seem intent on doubling my boxes of seasonal decor stowed away in my basement this year.  I had to add one more large box to my Christmas collection already.  It's an illness, hereditary to be exact.  I come by it honestly, at least.  My mother and father both seasonally changed decorations around the house.  I don't mean a few things here and there...I'm talking full throttle!  My mom was a mug maven.  She collected coffee mugs for all of us for each month.  She loved the "changing of the mugs" at the office.  I used to give her quite a time about it.  It's a trait that I find endearing now. 

This year, I decided to leave one of my small Christmas trees up in the dining room.  I hated the thought of putting all of the pretty lights away.  Everything always seems so glum and lackluster in the house when the Christmas decorations have been packed away.  I bought some "silk" roses in all shades SUPER cheap at Michaels and clipped off bunches, adding them to the tree.

It still needed something.  There were WAY too many open spaces.  Nothing spells out Valentine's Day like c-h-o-c-o-l-a-t-e!  But who in their right mind would attach perfectly good chocolate to a tree?  Not me, I tell you!  There would be nothing left but empty wrappers clinging wishfully to the branches within a week.  Not to mention the cost!

Last year I had a brilliant scheme... I inherited a WHOLE LOT of candy molds from my mom along with all her Wilton's cake pans....a n d I happened to have some plaster of paris sitting around waiting for it's next assignment.  I love it when a good plan comes together. 

If you are like me, when you have a project going, you're anxious to jump right in and savor the fruits of your labor (the puns never end).  Let these babies cure...completely!  Give them AT LEAST a full 24 hours to dry.  Learn from my mistakes...I was hasty.  Paint takes a LOT longer to dry when applied to a semi-cured piece of plaster AND it usually requires additional touch ups afterward.  Add a little paint mixed to resemble different types of chocolate, some glossy decoupage paste (I'd use a clear spray paint, but I live in Nebraska...and it's 12 degrees out...you get the picture) and optional glitter to resemble sanding sugars and this is what you end up with....

and

and

and a few of these

Now, I will warn you...these look REAL!  People have (I've been told) picked them up, intent on savoring some chocolatey goodness.  So, there are a few things I've done to give people several opportunities to realize what they are about to put in their mouths is, in fact, NOT edible.  First obstacle....I hot glue these puppies into candy cups...super cheap and it adds to the overall feel of the project.  Second obstacle (just in case the thought didn't occur to the would-be-nosher while trying to extricate the "chocolate" from the wrapper)...I don't paint the bottom of the piece.  This not only allows the glue to bond better but it reveals the "confection's" true identity. 

Now, the applications are boundless....you can pile them on an decorative plate or you can use last year's leftover chocolate boxes (if you're snickering at this statement your basement is probably not as full as mine).  I put this together last year.  (Pay no attention to the wizard in the shoddy sweatshirt in the background.)

Perhaps you'd like to start a holiday tree tradition and hot glue some ribbon to the back of the paper cups and adorn yor tree with some sweets too.

Finding Strength

The children were sleeping soundly.  She had agreed to meet with him only after she was sure they were.  They didn't need to be witness to what might happen or what might be said between the two of them that night.  It could go one of two ways; it could go smoothly, without a hitch or it could all come undone.  She couldn't quite put her finger on what he was thinking or feeling right now.

She tried to calm her breathing.  Her heart was pounding so forcefully she wondered that it might just burst through its bony cage.  She ran through a mental checklist though she'd done it at least 10 times already; back pocket: keys; front right pocket:  cell phone.  The home phone sat positioned on the surface of the kitchen table where they would be seated for their conversation.  If that phone was knocked from her hand she would have her cell phone to dial 911 as she ran through the door.  On trembling legs she walked to the small mud room just off the kitchen which led to the door to the back yard.  Her purse was sitting on the dryer by the back door which was unlocked.  She peered through the blinds to make sure the garage door just 20 feet away was open.  She wisked the keys from her back pocket and clicked the unlock button on the key fob listening for the whine of the locks assuring that the car doors were not locked.  She hated the thought of leaving her children behind with him if even for a second if things came to blows.  But what good would she be to them injured or, worse, dead.  She could call the police and have them there in a matter of time then she could return.  Surely, before he had a chance to do anything to them or take them.

She had waited for these last few days for nearly eight years.  Shortly after their first anniversary she had discovered a side of him that she hadn't anticipated.  No young woman in "love" would anticipate her betrothed to cross that line, though it probably happens quite often.  She had vowed from that moment that she would, somehow, someday, leave him.  At first it was simply as soon as the few credit cards that she had were paid off.  They had a child afterall.  How could she possibly support a child on her meager income while trying to pay off credit cards he applied for in her name because his credit wouldn't allow him.  Then they moved...and had another child.  One thing led to another.  There was always something that forced her to stay. She shook her head remembering all of the mistakes that she had made.  All of the warning signs she'd ignored thinking that love could change a person.  Hadn't he told her that she had saved him from himself before?

She had only been this scared of him one time before in their marriage.  The torment she had experienced all of the other time during the nine years of their marriage had been more obtuse.  There were no bruises, scars or cuts available for observation on the outside.  The evidence of the injuries inflicted could only be found within.  Her self concept, until recently, was non-existant.  She felt just short of a piece of meat meant for his "consumption".  Not that she hadn't prayed for a black eye or a welted cheek.  At least then she would have physical evidence for herself.  All she was left with were questions.  Was it real?  Or imagined?

Satisfied that everything was ready she took the cell phone from her pocket and sent a short text message that he could come over.  Her mind, dangerously, drifted.

She had been so close, just a year before, to freedom.  Family members had arrived, things had been "patched", life was good for a while.  It didn't take long though for "normal" to return.  She had drawn a line in the sand.  She prayed, "God, if this line is crossed let that be my sign."  Then, a week before this night, the certified letter came.  It had been a Saturday morning.  He hadn't left for the morning shift yet.  Pulling a strange strength from deep within she sternly warned, "This had better NOT be what I think it is" before gathering her 8 year old daughter and leaving in the car bound for the post office.  She thanked the postal worker at the window and glanced at the return address on the letter clutched in her hand.  The mortgage company.  She didn't open it until she and her daughter were seated in the car.  She worried that the reading the contents might turn her knees to liquid and she would find herself on the Post Office floor.

It didn't take long for her to confirm what she had suspected.  Two months behind on their mortgage payment!  They had one month to bring the account to current or they would be in default of their loan on their home.  The loan whose down payment had been funded by a loan she'd taken against her life insurance.  More mistakes.  Where was the money going?  His only financial responsibilities were only to pay the house payment and the car payment.  Everything else had fallen on her plate.  Her phone rang.  It was him wondering what the letter was.  Angrily she read the letter.  Again, a new found strength bubbled up within her, "Fix it!" she said.  "I don't care HOW you fix it, just FIX IT!"

The rap at the door startled her and brought her back to the moment at hand.  Her hands were shaking so. "Calm yourself.  Be strong. God, be with me and give me strength to do what I know I have to do.  Give me the words because I don't know if I can find them without your help." Her hands stilled and she opened the door.

Not Quite the No-Good-Very-Bad-Day...But Darn Close

Today was an absolutely wretched day.

It was one of those days you just can't wait to put to bed within a few hours of its beginning.
I can't say that my mood was sour at all at the start. I can't say that any ONE thing made it such a horrible day.

I think that as the day progressed I allowed the events happening around me bitter me. I really detest letting that happen. I say "letting that happen" because I truly believe that we control how events shape our lives. We can allow them to dig under our skin and burrow deep within, leaving festering holes; or, we can accept things for what they truly are, change what we can, fix what can be fixed or walk away if nothing can be done for the situation and chalk it up to a learning experience.

Today, I felt like I was a block being slowly chipped away by each comment,

each request,

each demand,

each angry face,

each person standing in the aisle of the grocery store blocking the path and refusing to move.

Bickering children,

whining children,

children who thought it was funny to sit next to me with their tongue several inches from my face....I assure you, it was NOT funny.

By the end of the evening I felt like I was grasping at the last fragments of my block. Toes curled, fists clenched trying desperately not to explode. Internally begging, pleading that the retch boiling below the surface stay there...for just a little longer.

Now, in the quiet of my house I feel like I can finally take a deep breath, push it all away and start fresh tomorrow....glad that it isn't yesterday. By GOD! If I see you in the store or pass you on the sidewalk and you don't have a smile on your face...I'm going to give you the biggest one that I've got...and be glad that

I have it in me to share!

Now, I'm off to make something...with pretty paper...and flowers...and beautiful scraps of lace...because that's what makes me smile. Blessings to each of you in your day...today...and tomorrow. Won't you share your biggest smile with someone who has forgotten theirs at home, too?