tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-76537374541441565862024-03-14T09:04:59.679-04:00wednesday 3 o'clockCrafty tales from a red bungalow.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger229125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7653737454144156586.post-34988343197153142722014-11-12T03:57:00.001-05:002014-11-12T03:57:21.741-05:00<div style="text-align: center;">
I tend to do things in large groups or just large in general. In this I mean almost <i>all</i> things. From dinner to building my jewelry. Almost everything is somehow 'over the top'. I always attributed doing stuff this way to having a big personality... a leonine one. </div>
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For a good period of time, I enjoyed writing on this here blog, conveniently and simultaneously, my insomnia was chronic. My mind constantly wandered and rarely shut down when I wanted it to. I liken it to a a sweet little pet hamster running on its wheel all the time. As a temporary solution to that ridiculously evasive sleep, some of my regular physical exercise included wrestling with bedtime blankets, creeping out of my nest of coziness and scrabbling together some of my random thoughts.<br />
An ability to corral this series of considerations,<br />
into some cohesive text could make sleep a lovely by-product.<br />
(not sure if that word is one, two or hyphenated... but i am less caring about rules of grammar and spelling at this moment). </div>
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With the advent of an uncomfortable visitor to my blog and other people who were reading it, I decided to take some time off from writing in it.<br />
It made me uncomfortable to offer up personal ammunition to the universe, with which could be irritated. Luckily for me, my sleeping has improved immensely. That and a ton of other little things have fallen into correct place. One remaining thing is that i missed though, was writing in this format.<br />
It was helpful to document stuff, get tired enough to rest and perhaps put some of my thoughts into<br />
a slightly more orderly format.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">***</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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Something is always happening in my neighborhood.<br />
Many of you know this from earlier documentation.<br />
Tonight is no different.<br />
What happened upset me a lot and right now, i feel like i may have calmed down some.<br />
One of my next door neighbors experienced a theft, a break-in, a violation.<br />
It is late in the evening and I have pieced the evidence together.<br />
I feel guilty knowing about it, but the victim does not, not yet.<br />
It is a simple story about her pet chicken.<br />
I sometimes hear it scrabbling about on her porch next door.<br />
Tonight i heard the sorta normal chickeny sounds, but at night. that is not the chicken's way.<br />
There has been a ridiculous amount of noise about keeping chickens in the city.<br />
As far as I have gotten with the absurdity of this as an urban problem, it is that<br />
chickens are ok to be urban, but not roosters.<br />
Apparently, they make too much noise and awaken people with their cock-a-doodle-doos.<br />
The fella that lived next door was kind of small of build, white of feather and had a very charming sounding wake up call.<br />
It was like an adolescent version of what I had thought it would be like.<br />
I kind of thought I loved the rooster from afar. all of 2o feet or so.<br />
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Back to the point of the story... after the oddly timed chickeny sounds, </div>
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about an hour and a half later, my dog took me for his nightly constitutional.<br />
As we walked by, there was a pile of feathers on the porch.<br />
There was also a large hole in the box that the chicken stayed in at night.<br />
I guess one of the many, many feral cats that use the house across the street for home base, finally made a hole large enough to get into the box or the chicken out of it.<br />
So in my rather large way, I am upset about this.<br />
It is totally within the conventional laws of nature, but it is bothering me.<br />
tomorrow I can possibly catch my neighbor to ask her about this.<br />
If she replaces what i am sure is a missing bird,<br />
i will find a nice big box for the replacement bird to live in.<br />
She needs one that is more kitty-proof.<br />
i am too sad about this, and it was not even my own bird. </div>
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Also, by the time that I could ask her about the rooster, her porch had been swept clean and the feathers were gone. the box was gone. the entire issue had been removed.<br />
That seems even sadder to me somehow.<br />
That bird looked as happy as my neighbor all tucked up under her wing. </div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large; text-align: center;"> ***</span><br />
<span style="text-align: center;">In other news, my kid's field hockey season is done. </span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;">Her team won the division II state championship.</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;">She was awarded a brand new honor as the first D2 player of the year. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large; text-align: center;">whooooo hooo!</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;">I am very proud of her.</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;">She has worked so hard for so long(we are speaking in team years here. something akin to dog years you know?) for this experience. </span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;">She has been planning all summer to get ready for the season, by weight training and running. </span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;">I know that she hates to run, but in preparation for the main season she did a lot of it. </span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;">I could not have been more skeptical of her commitment to this plan of action, but she made it all work for her.</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;">Both of her field hockey and ice hockey seasons in are wrapped up for the year. </span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;">She has planned to go back to her weight training workouts. </span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;">I think it may be in prep for the LaX season. </span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;">She has no aspersions about that sport and says, she doesn't even like it. </span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;">Now going toward her 4th high school year playing, it is with skepticism that her statements are credible.</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;">Either way, at this point, my hope is that she is keeping it all in perspective.</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;">The LaX coach is not nearly as supportive or good to all the girls as the field hockey and ice hockey coaches have been.(she had been playing as the goaltender for the boys teams for the past two seasons). If she winds up being picked on by the LaX coach again this year, it would make me so happy for her to walk away from that season. </span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;">It would make me seriously, even a bit happy. </span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;">This is the look of genuine joy and an appreciation for hard work paying off. </span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;">(just cannot get this to align properly dad-gummit, but, let's just pretend that i did?) </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">this is what i think happy looks like. </span></div>
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i could not be prouder or happier for her. she worked her butt off </div>
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to help put her team into the winner's circle. </div>
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final game, 5-0</div>
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two goals and one assist provided by the girl. </div>
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i hope she remains this happy all of her life... because she has worked really hard to and deserves it.</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">***</span></div>
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last week was halloween. ordinarily i am non-plussed by this holiday. </div>
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this year, i hit upon a fun way to participate in the festivities. </div>
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i made some day of the dead earrings. </div>
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i loved making them so much, that i have had a hard time stopping making them. </div>
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i have a fresh idea that may or may not replace the little girl heads... for non wicked holidays. </div>
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i made them in all sorts of colors and with all sorts of head gear upon them. </div>
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always with little floral contributions though.</div>
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some wore hats with 'millinery' flair...</div>
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some wore crowns...</div>
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some had cute pointy multi-layered crowns...</div>
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some were tinier than others...</div>
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and others liked to do a can-can...</div>
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there were loads of the little skully ladies... and some even remain in my etsy shop right now. </div>
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i am considering leaving a steady exchange of these all year round. </div>
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as for other things???</div>
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well i will snap some pics tomorrow. </div>
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i look forward to the possibility of taking some photos outdoors in the natural light. </div>
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i can share those with you if i get there from here. </div>
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thanks for looking in... after such a long period of absence. </div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">xo. w. </span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7653737454144156586.post-47407383368384450782014-01-29T00:56:00.001-05:002014-01-29T00:56:05.570-05:00upside down and at the end of the ball...<div style="text-align: center;">
the days are nights and nights are days again. i am fine with it, my doctor is fine with it. my husband is bitchy. nothing new, but still hard to deal sometimes. </div>
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i am usually so worn out by the holiday season by the time it passes, my sleep habits revert to just sleeping on dimes or nickels or in day times or night times. it feels weird to be so exhausted, but it happens. it is a lot of stress to manage as i load myself into a new year. </div>
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<b>things that need accomplishing most in january are generally financial in nature</b></div>
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<b>and generally NOT FUN</b></div>
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<u>(in no particular order)</u></div>
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the new seasons of long awaited downton abbey and sherlock holmes</div>
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taxes</div>
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FAFSA forms for college aged student children</div>
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college applications for high school students looking toward college</div>
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recuperation of health from abuse of it over past six months</div>
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actual cooking meals</div>
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sorting out inventory</div>
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catching up with wholesale clients</div>
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getting ready for valentine's day for store orders</div>
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getting health insurance needs sorted out</div>
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figuring out what inventory is left and what ought to be either replaced, retired or continued</div>
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taking care of bills</div>
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what is direction of the new year?</div>
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figuring out the new year's show schedule many months in advance </div>
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what shows are even worth doing</div>
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what shows should be considered</div>
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and the biggest of the big... paying for everything </div>
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<br /></div>
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this is accompanied with the big post season clean up. </div>
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or dare i say, the full studio clean-up and reorganization. </div>
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<br /></div>
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lots of stuff needs to be done and even some cleaning falls interstitially within this task list. </div>
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usually, since i am not expected at lots of places during conventional working hours, </div>
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i can get what i need to be done, started and sometimes completed. </div>
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it is a juggling act. </div>
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and this is simply january. </div>
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the rest of the year is a blitz. </div>
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one of the things most of my show peers are commiserating about is how tired we all seem to feel. </div>
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it is the time of the year that we finally sleep after working until 3 a.m. often and driving to set up for a show at 6 a.m. that same morning. </div>
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it is a busy and hard living style of earning a living. </div>
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and somehow, we talk ourselves out of being unwell </div>
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or full of hopes </div>
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or full of refreshed dreams</div>
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or sad about life that has passed us by accidentally while we were cranking along. </div>
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it is not easy being this independent. </div>
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<br /></div>
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so there are a few things i have been trying to do to make myself feel ok about my life as it whishes by.</div>
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there is a bag of yarn that is being converted into knitted hairbands, with big flowers on them. </div>
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ends of pretty skeins in progress</div>
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hopefully they will look something like this someday</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGTG5RPk-F8NQBTplUBQZHTvA-2acM5sz6L7w7HTXnNI1QLZ-j_m5KxfGoVsPXSeUqXJSBUcrdcjh2YMHD0OA8bDVu1Iyt7V2TWShMjA4epw6OCDJcw6YLrimCLnJdayL-xazWhvdydu4D/s1600/knitted+hairband.tiff" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGTG5RPk-F8NQBTplUBQZHTvA-2acM5sz6L7w7HTXnNI1QLZ-j_m5KxfGoVsPXSeUqXJSBUcrdcjh2YMHD0OA8bDVu1Iyt7V2TWShMjA4epw6OCDJcw6YLrimCLnJdayL-xazWhvdydu4D/s1600/knitted+hairband.tiff" height="257" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
a lot of trays of itty bitty findings have been sorted and thrown out. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
not everything needs to be kept. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
beads ... gosh, the beads... they are getting sorted and stored. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
there are post 2013 necklaces being constructed. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
dorina ballerina v.1</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkVZBdMKyxHbAMhhVRRy3kUtdfOY1-2LTClxFsfvab5BkVFIgDFlKMRoOamhKKCOXh_ujOd1snVLulvUNOO5zDYSK-zLk1rvoPxkrb0sMV_ErgvCOtjlxZW58fFG-FokwFKh2kKmLLcqBO/s1600/better+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkVZBdMKyxHbAMhhVRRy3kUtdfOY1-2LTClxFsfvab5BkVFIgDFlKMRoOamhKKCOXh_ujOd1snVLulvUNOO5zDYSK-zLk1rvoPxkrb0sMV_ErgvCOtjlxZW58fFG-FokwFKh2kKmLLcqBO/s1600/better+2.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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dorina ballerina v.2</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn0ntramJ12aUcU8YSQIWnnubGSIXozAeMhlItDGb885ohRQNiBUjF6YX0nXGxIHeoMXpqCKAd2Dx1Q-GthtxgWUDj5MsDnPH6XTy4GouXE4xp0Vjd6r_HX9Q6vPGCV_qGV6-jRuD22EUq/s1600/better+5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn0ntramJ12aUcU8YSQIWnnubGSIXozAeMhlItDGb885ohRQNiBUjF6YX0nXGxIHeoMXpqCKAd2Dx1Q-GthtxgWUDj5MsDnPH6XTy4GouXE4xp0Vjd6r_HX9Q6vPGCV_qGV6-jRuD22EUq/s1600/better+5.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
not only one time, but even twice. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
peacock </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUsfUK5EKjrKwzudCF-gjsiom-rC16M9nLaQc6FzWqeBVwpfhiZ0B5BTyZlua-sJNFq0bL3cK1uNTN_i5F2eP3aLLRtWyzdrbPyOs1330l7g2zhT-xDVaZJNZRC3HYWucOzko742MmLfCO/s1600/B1+peacock+love.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUsfUK5EKjrKwzudCF-gjsiom-rC16M9nLaQc6FzWqeBVwpfhiZ0B5BTyZlua-sJNFq0bL3cK1uNTN_i5F2eP3aLLRtWyzdrbPyOs1330l7g2zhT-xDVaZJNZRC3HYWucOzko742MmLfCO/s1600/B1+peacock+love.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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unfortunately, this was not what my client had in mind. </div>
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the peacock is a tad too vivid. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiusj1VNjdl4gFN1QChE96AVG1eLBvU_HOxcN8GOO-l0eZN7GUCuJa4n7xA4HS_Y2dg2tCe_WabnlhKmuIuepbb-pz3ovl6RvkzndVz11oI3xhxNspuQ0lWHNEOPN8YUiHkqiDAlz0xyn3r/s1600/B8+peacock+love.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiusj1VNjdl4gFN1QChE96AVG1eLBvU_HOxcN8GOO-l0eZN7GUCuJa4n7xA4HS_Y2dg2tCe_WabnlhKmuIuepbb-pz3ovl6RvkzndVz11oI3xhxNspuQ0lWHNEOPN8YUiHkqiDAlz0xyn3r/s1600/B8+peacock+love.jpg" height="320" width="202" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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the peahen...</div>
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a messier and darker version is constructed as per request...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn4TcPEE7QAPY6ap_lJYD_a3_5bBtCmXBY-x4rJfnXN7UknCWmklrLpyz-SD6fXgRS4tVQFcsCBsDbVvy6XQpj0WD66OLa3iWPfHFnkluXPyNMpzXMQcAITrYUfseWLPsMEeAa2Gmwkekz/s1600/C2+Dark+PeaHen.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn4TcPEE7QAPY6ap_lJYD_a3_5bBtCmXBY-x4rJfnXN7UknCWmklrLpyz-SD6fXgRS4tVQFcsCBsDbVvy6XQpj0WD66OLa3iWPfHFnkluXPyNMpzXMQcAITrYUfseWLPsMEeAa2Gmwkekz/s1600/C2+Dark+PeaHen.JPG" height="320" width="246" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDL9vnxwPJLCcuZ2aAmdQ4y0VHYKD6CKfLzfS401e4KnbtT3Z2TrZaDa_ZLJ1sdeI2GzgQX5DMEN6Xd7zwAqcyPqJ-KdM9Wi5ReZg4wyzDO0jRHyaX0gcI0ezR5XFk678MRJvQOItCcx9w/s1600/C5+Dark+PeaHen.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDL9vnxwPJLCcuZ2aAmdQ4y0VHYKD6CKfLzfS401e4KnbtT3Z2TrZaDa_ZLJ1sdeI2GzgQX5DMEN6Xd7zwAqcyPqJ-KdM9Wi5ReZg4wyzDO0jRHyaX0gcI0ezR5XFk678MRJvQOItCcx9w/s1600/C5+Dark+PeaHen.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and yes, it is hard to learn how to use photoshop to make newly useful application photos. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
ugh. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
when is it all gonna get done?</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i just have no good idea, so the nights become my days. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and the kids awaken me to fit their schedules as we all can cooperate on this.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
it is all fine and dandy, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
until i get a cold. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
of course, i am mama, so there is NO down time for me. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
sheesh. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
still i will keep waging war on those full to overflowing dresser drawers </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and unmatched laundered black athletic socks. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
the dog who only likes a quick trot to take care of business and a fun walk or game with his bestie two doors down, is my uncomplaining companion. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
everyone should have a dog. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
they get you no matter what. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
well, that laundry just is not gonna jump into the drawers without an assist. so i best get cracking. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
nice to see y'all again. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
xo.w. </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7653737454144156586.post-71234599898649798142014-01-28T03:28:00.000-05:002014-01-28T03:28:10.312-05:00dog hair balls, blankets and other wacky stuff<div style="text-align: center;">
so it is friday night and for a change, i sort of have a late night date.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
nope, not my handsome doggie... </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
but my son came home from college for the weekend with his new used car.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
he is over the moon thrilled that he has wheels and is happy to drive to show them off. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i am happy that he is here, safe, sound, with health insurance, car insurance, a registered car and even a little bit of his savings intact. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
the good life. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
in preparation for the return of the boy, i tried to clean up his room. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
my husband has accused me of taking over the house with my <strike> CRAP</strike> wonderful treasures. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
so what if i have a lot of my delightful stuff stashed in every room?</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
he took over the garage, the basement, and our bedroom.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
somehow it is considered that i have ownership over the kitchen.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
it is seen as fair game, since i have over the years been the predominant user of said space.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
in fact and fairness, we all have migrated our stuff everywhere in this cracker box we live in. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
one of my hubby's latest loves has been his 3 hibiscus trees. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i used to have some when we lived in harvard square.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
their beautiful, bright and luscious blossoms must have worked some magic on the man.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i stopped being able to care for the trees when the kids came along. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
they required more time than i seemed to have when there were diapers to do and dishes from my 12 yr. stint as a coffee house baker.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
then the trees finally croaked ... it only took a decade or so. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
still i had to move on.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
now hubby has the hibiscus bug and it is a very successful one. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
two of the trees are doing well.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
one is not so happy.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
when the largest and most unhappy one was moved inside from the front porch,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
it went into shock.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
autumn can do that to some of us.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
all of its leaves dropped off, dried up and stayed where they fell, on the floor in the boy's room. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
when a kid goes to college,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i think it is a rite of transition on the home-front, to change the purpose of the newly vacated bedroom.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
sometimes it becomes a 'workout' room, sometimes a sewing room or it is dedicated to some other unexpected purpose. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
in our case, it became the place where the hibiscus trees went to winter over. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
where their leaves are not raked up or bagged for composting. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
no matter how many times, i asked anyone to deal with that tree as it decompensated in relocation shock, its shed leafiness somehow fell to my domain.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
in fairness, i knew it had happened.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i was letting it go until someone noticed the state of organic crustiness in the boy's room. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
eventually, some things have to change.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
we are NOT a family that handles change easily.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
hubby deals with surgical clarity and execution. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i manage the rote items that require day to day management. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
its not that i enjoy any of the softer stuff to do at all, but someone has to do it and it bothers me more when it isn't seen to. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
this includes most household tasks with the exception of throwing shit out. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i am terrible at this task.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
of course, this is a typical digression on my part here. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
hubby has an ongoing fantasy of a dumpster in the driveway. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
he is a carpenter/contractor after all. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
luckily for us,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i am fine with removing the crap on the floor or any other surface from the boy's room. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
it is the only room i don't mind cleaning up. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i know, it is a mystery to me too. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i think that it doesn't get me as crazy because once i clean/clear it up, no one uses the room for a while and it has a small chance of staying a little bit nicer for a little longer.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
the boy has a habit of letting his trash fall where it may. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
this drives me absolutely nuts when i know it is going on. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
when he buys new socks, the little plastic bits that hold the pairs together are snipped, pulled apart or broken into two in some manner... and then dropped wherever this breakage occurs. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
if he eats gum, the wrapper falls where the piece was opened up. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
if a box from some purchase is unused after being opened, it too falls to the ground. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
do not get me started on those little plastic hangers that socks are hung on for display in stores.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
they come home with my brood and hit the ground becoming semi-permanent visitors as well. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
so you get the idea, loads of little papery junk with absolutely no regard for neatness or cleanliness is part of the scenery. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i find this most ironic.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
at school, he enjoys his room neat as a pin and cleans it every sunday</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
his laundry does a two step in the washing and drying machines.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
this provides him with building blocks of what he enjoys as sartorial splendor.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
his bed gets ersatz freshly laundered linens too. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i thought that college was where kids go to become sort of more disgusting and slovenly without the background sounds of nagging mamas. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
go figure. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
{the 16 yo girl does this trashola drop-trick too.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
she is a whole other kettle of drama though. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
the flotilla of paper/plastic wrapper junk migrates somehow throughout the house. }</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
the inmates all know how much i dislike all of this stuff swirling at foot level.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
they choose to ignore my desire for their minor senses of responsibility in its removal to </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
a trash barrel. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
eventually i make a point of my umbrage and some portion of it is removed. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
{really i try to limit and pick my battles but they just keep coming...}</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
when the boy returned for his holiday visit,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i was told that the leftover dried hibiscus tree leaves on his floor crunched when walked upon with tender bare tootsies.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
he claimed it was like walking on fritos. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
this is impossible to believe, since no frito ever missed a grifflinksys mouth ever. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and there is a dog who gladly would snap up a chance to get one if it did. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i could believe though, that the baseline flotsam was unpleasant.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
it seemed that to stem the flow of organic movement to other parts of the house, it could be removed. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
this brings me to the non-shedding breed of dog. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
his best trick is to shed. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
everywhere. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
all the time. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
he is so adorable, that i just don't really care about it. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
we have a pretty intrepid vacuum cleaner. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
it has worked with almost every need over a significant period. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
it probably has over 25 years under its belt.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
my husband bought it. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
he likes his tools to work. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
if he is going to entrust one of his beloved tools to me,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
it had better be a solidly good working one. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i long have suspected that he considers me a tool breaker. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
one of our family mottos is</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"buy cheap, pay twice"</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
we try to offset the costs of repairs, replacements and other stuff in the middle of usage. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
if something we want to buy even looks like it might break down in a couple of decades, it has no place amongst us. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
the vacuum's hose stopped working particularly well. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i asked mr. fixit about what could be wrong. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
he thought that the hose had a leak in it. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i thought that the basket-weave pattern had enough texture to it, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
that stuff could be catching on it and denying proper air flow.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
it seemed a little bit like cholesterol globs adhering to someone's arteries </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
ultimately preventing proper blood flow.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
something HAD to be done. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
again, Me. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i kind of liked the challenge of this. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i wanted to try to remove the crunchy walking experience from the boy's room</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
with timeliness for his return to the cracker box house. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i picked up all the annoying little tags, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
the dropped gum wrappers, t</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
he plastic tidbits from clothing purchases. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i finger raked all the cracklin' good, dry leaves left behind on the floor. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
after most of the crud was eliminated, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
it was time for the use of mechanical aids.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
the machine was composed. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
all of its interlocking parts were interlocked. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
the loud engine roared. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and the dirt on the floor moved about. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
this didn't necessarily include removal of proper dirt. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
not feeling the love i had anticipated, i did what any experienced e-lux owner would do. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i reversed the air direction through the hose. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and there went the puffs of dog hair balls like a gun shooting ping-pong balls. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
pop. pop. pop. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
blobs of dog hair popped out. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
more blobs than i liked the look of. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
needless to say, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
since i had done this the last time i tried to vacuum, it seems as if the entire hose must be totally clotted </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
with the generosity of hairballs</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
from the non-shedding breed of dog that sheds constantly. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
comedic and in slow motion. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and dirtier than i would like. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
still freaking funny. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
pop. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
pop. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
POP. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
the floor was delivered from its usual crispy leaves and tumbling clusters of downy doggy hairs. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
the deliverance of clean was surprising, yet very amusing. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
the boy... was tickled PINK with the news that his return merited such a change in status. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
after he left town in a non- auto owning kind of way. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
he is truly happy. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
it is super nice when that happens. </div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
as for progress on the bejeweled front. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i have a lot of older things i need to deal with. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
custom made orders for folks waiting so very, very, VERY patiently. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
planning out a season/year of crafty show goodness in january </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
takes a skill set i do not know how to do. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
trying to complete the family application for health insurance has been a huge time suck. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
doing taxes in january for the kids' FAFSA statements is another huge chunk of time. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
oh my gosh, and getting some stuff moved out of the dining room to my basement area is a dream . </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
now i was making a little progress with my storage area, i was waylaid by the need for me to empty my entire paint storage area. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
hubby needed to move a very large table out of the work area and back to its owners' home. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
this is impossible to do, without me emptying out the paint place.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
after a lot of sorting and organizing my treasures,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i find that i just plainly need to move the furniture around in my dedicated space. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
to say this is a huge undertaking is an understatement. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
distraction is my middle name.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
the payoff is that i will be able to use the space for the first time ever and that is a huge prize. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
the original layout was not sensitive enough to how i might work. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
as new aspects of how i use materials, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
newer ways to organize things for faster production </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and dare i say the need for some privacy in my work have come together...</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
a more efficient layout has become clearer. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
in reality, a fresh larger, well lit space is a lot nicer to fantasize about as a studio. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
however that is not the way that i work in real time. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
it is hard for me to determine if i prefer night time to day time</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
for lighting and chunks of uninterrupted time. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
at my very core, i am a homebody. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
the need to be in my nest is pretty strong and with it goes the sacrifice of staying completely focused. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
of course impulse cleaning is not really a bad thing. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
it all gets done in its own time and placement in the list i have in my head,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
like sucking up leaf detritus from the boy's room only moments before he pulled into the driveway. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7653737454144156586.post-58775918776817990262014-01-08T18:31:00.000-05:002014-01-08T18:31:42.689-05:00obamacare and peacocks, works in progress<div style="text-align: center;">
trying to deal with adult life is sort of beyond me. i keep trying, i have kids which of course makes you need to be more effective and efficient since you are responsible... but it is taking its toll. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
our health insurance plan was cancelled. not really completely, because, most importantly our kids are covered in one of three ways. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
the eldest has her health care coverage through her university. as of monday, she began her latest co-op as an employee of the state of Massachusetts. so she is covered. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
the monkey in the middle has under complete strain and stress of my nagging, filled out his on-line application for 'OBAMACARE'. so for the first time in 3 years he is the subscriptor of a brand new health plan. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
the last of the lot is covered under the plan my husband and i had until this week. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i spent my afternoon at a place i refer to as hell on earth. a division of governmental offices. it is always filled to the brim with people, children, and time to be spent awaiting some kind of answers to questions you don't know how to ask or what they ought to be about. there is nothing but grime in that place and although my own home could do with some significant cleaning up, my tendencies took over. i wanted to clean and oil hinges and offer tissue to runny nosed kids and pass out snacks to folks waiting for too long and generally ubermommy the situation. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
reality is present, when you remember that you just had to empty your pockets and put them through a screening thing as well as walk through a metal detecting gate. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
yup. reality. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
after it is all said and done... i need to sign up for obamacare for me and the hubs. this would be ok, but i tried to read the website where you are supposed to sign up. i cannot for the life of me figure out how on earth to even find the stupid thing. also, my son who is brilliant with this stuff, may or may not be talking to me right now. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
we are in the beginning to middle dance steps of his acquiring his first car. it is a good idea for him to have a car, but he is not all that able to handle the precursors to having that responsibility. so i am stuck between a rock and a hard place with getting his assistance. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
so now i have lobbed this back to hubs. i think he may be able to identify what plan would work for our financial state. however, i remain in doubt. the entire reason i went to the office to gain some traction on this problem, was that we were sent a letter saying that our coverage was to end by a january date... it was a long paragraph and in bold lettering. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
underneath that was a second paragraph stating if you didn't want to change anything, nothing should be done to make any changes. kind of circuitous. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
way back in the day, we used to say,"if in doubt, read the bold print". how the obvious was totally missed is just symptomatic of our head in the sand philosophy. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i need some improvement in this cause it is not good in this day and age to be uninsured. i love that there is an option for having it for everyone, but what i do not understand is why folks that implement and design these systems for regular americans, do not have to live with this kind of care themselves. they have superior coverage, and i dare estimate, it is provided by tax payers paying their taxes. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
just a small loop.de.loop... </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
as for currently attempted design efforts, i was asked a long time ago to create a peacock inspired necklace. i took my sweet time about it. it just did not leap into my mind's eyes as a form. it has been overdue for way too long a time and is for that alone, totally embarrassing to work on now. so i made a stab at it. i posted the pics on line to see what the sense of its viability were. it was well received. unfortunately, it was totally wrong as directions go. so now i have started to rebuild it from the ground up. this means fresh chains and more beads. no crisis there. this place is crammed full of little things with a hole through them. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
here are some real peacock feather examples... </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnnZtTl5flx82mTb0Ag7aX-S8ATbBq-jw_QswahlJZanXE-ijt64OsX0BHZKUGKzngx4PHFyjIPs_o9udmY6dbdKx9FVjZiff1F3xjgd2jbHVfCj3sNVQIQKxZaQWprFudPlgfaeJzN0Nj/s1600/peacock+1_950x632.shkl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnnZtTl5flx82mTb0Ag7aX-S8ATbBq-jw_QswahlJZanXE-ijt64OsX0BHZKUGKzngx4PHFyjIPs_o9udmY6dbdKx9FVjZiff1F3xjgd2jbHVfCj3sNVQIQKxZaQWprFudPlgfaeJzN0Nj/s1600/peacock+1_950x632.shkl.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX-ZWDdcFX8hk2qkxrg8XQP4P0cTjSpvYj20qat1Rp8BOLXgnhPM-w9AjYuhNRcwKFlY_sQ-OnThRlcCAXSBFC-pgmoDzay4FSHB3nQcqGlbJkqfbz6Kc7wPo1lPzc9TRNve-NwEAAi4SW/s1600/peacock+2_950x630.shkl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX-ZWDdcFX8hk2qkxrg8XQP4P0cTjSpvYj20qat1Rp8BOLXgnhPM-w9AjYuhNRcwKFlY_sQ-OnThRlcCAXSBFC-pgmoDzay4FSHB3nQcqGlbJkqfbz6Kc7wPo1lPzc9TRNve-NwEAAi4SW/s1600/peacock+2_950x630.shkl.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqewycmjezPdYByHPk6RgQB8xB9j5axAzMzTNnNbINErSJCJkagwWUSrbUGi5UtZLiKbxqbe7RrK4siVBJxsyz5rOGulta5-2tUFerwO3qik_mKhsv5lBvaMQBwj7InWUud1cCat6_gMiz/s1600/peacock+feathers+3_950x532.shkl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqewycmjezPdYByHPk6RgQB8xB9j5axAzMzTNnNbINErSJCJkagwWUSrbUGi5UtZLiKbxqbe7RrK4siVBJxsyz5rOGulta5-2tUFerwO3qik_mKhsv5lBvaMQBwj7InWUud1cCat6_gMiz/s1600/peacock+feathers+3_950x532.shkl.jpg" height="179" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
here is my take on what would be suitable as a peacock inspired necklace,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
that is if i had listened to my client...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz2dtrB_e2eQAAexXL1ier0dqXeSs9QYhXbaXwU9ojBhQJ1CpttHwUa22VwIFqo5MNh1efP1-imRzEmwuvFeKycgTg3CeKUdDsfXdK6KrMcbHT-lJdLF1n0uIqFb-4BuSPrNiayvJr7bpF/s1600/B1+peacock+love.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz2dtrB_e2eQAAexXL1ier0dqXeSs9QYhXbaXwU9ojBhQJ1CpttHwUa22VwIFqo5MNh1efP1-imRzEmwuvFeKycgTg3CeKUdDsfXdK6KrMcbHT-lJdLF1n0uIqFb-4BuSPrNiayvJr7bpF/s1600/B1+peacock+love.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK2AbR93ovRKXWqNPPx249TM0r9fAzJ52-eWdi4MadBVYO7Bttjgr0wclnZbLgACGPeUedzZLLFAzK1E_xfGq9h9v8uiaecXX39Jv0tkE1DJmxzbHwZpPzJ20TT7Pgopa9yrP_Gq4UgK0q/s1600/B7+peacock+love.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK2AbR93ovRKXWqNPPx249TM0r9fAzJ52-eWdi4MadBVYO7Bttjgr0wclnZbLgACGPeUedzZLLFAzK1E_xfGq9h9v8uiaecXX39Jv0tkE1DJmxzbHwZpPzJ20TT7Pgopa9yrP_Gq4UgK0q/s1600/B7+peacock+love.JPG" height="274" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBzwx0KIfEqI4x3FxivuTiBDGCM-FLo0S-Fh3ZPrUK1IvlfBN8G4Xh-7j7S-QYdb45x5ANbPQaxL_XZAXp98sf6NjBLHmmPHjoyjnyiIgc85EV_EcCoy2spuy9MkfkdHDTsiWcqCZKw0gn/s1600/B9+peacock+love.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBzwx0KIfEqI4x3FxivuTiBDGCM-FLo0S-Fh3ZPrUK1IvlfBN8G4Xh-7j7S-QYdb45x5ANbPQaxL_XZAXp98sf6NjBLHmmPHjoyjnyiIgc85EV_EcCoy2spuy9MkfkdHDTsiWcqCZKw0gn/s1600/B9+peacock+love.jpg" height="320" width="195" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
now having seen the error of my ways...</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i am going in a totally different direction.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i asked the very patient lady waiting for me to create for her</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and once again, I did NOT read the <b>bold print</b>. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
so i am restarting this crazy project and moving the peacock element over to the new construction. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
let's just say, i am gonna put the bird on it. and yeah, i went there. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/0XM3vWJmpfo?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
so now i need to get my act together, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
suck up to my son for help in applying to the healthcare website that i do not understand</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and will need a law degree to get some basic stuff figured out.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
all in order to make it understandable to my easily frustrated husband. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and maybe if there is a harmonic convergence of the planets, we will be able to get coverage </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
before our meds run out. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
if that happens, we will not be able to see the forest for the trees. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
sigh. sigh. sigh. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
see you later alligators!</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7653737454144156586.post-88203795336796689012014-01-05T05:54:00.000-05:002014-01-05T05:54:38.488-05:00late enough for me ...<div style="text-align: center;">
it is too late to do anything but sleep if you are kind of normal. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i am not claiming any of that landscape just now. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i have a couple of goals i was trying to set and hit for the not distant future. so i already have failed massively in trying to work with systems instead of goals. perhaps they are really one and the same. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
however, i wanted to try to finish sorting a couple more containers of glorious vintage swag</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
before i crashed for the night. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
done! </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
also i wanted to get to the point in the peacock necklace where i could look at it more critically, for amending properly. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
regardless... i have taken some truly shitty pics to share of the mess in my studio space. i am at the point in the cleanup where i need to clear a lot more space so that i can put the cute little doodads of infinite tongue and cheekiness into a drawer. they sit in front of the drawers assigned to them for their housing and are pre-sorted into a log jam. so i took some piccies at night, with flash, and no natural light to show what i am up against in having myself as a client. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
really, it just sucks. </div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
this pic is for beckie.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
it is all kinds of pink celluloids in a green drawer. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i know she understands this madness. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and shame. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbUn75UCHI52fJpf6vMcZUZIZj7rt0x4uijGESObs94YqovicMPfEDq_93IxbUr3TvZAiwhQNWTNConTSZ73sotbD6l16VUGSYoGBgtbph1Zgd-NZjA63URsJiryNZZlzgbqtZokpE_kGC/s1600/celluloid+pinks+a.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbUn75UCHI52fJpf6vMcZUZIZj7rt0x4uijGESObs94YqovicMPfEDq_93IxbUr3TvZAiwhQNWTNConTSZ73sotbD6l16VUGSYoGBgtbph1Zgd-NZjA63URsJiryNZZlzgbqtZokpE_kGC/s320/celluloid+pinks+a.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
and then there are these...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
mixed portraits, </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
tintypes, </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
and buckle frames for their sweet faces. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
i like to think of them as instant family.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwZwmp9k_w6rKSaPWDDjg89QOnP_qLDCK79-Gny57c7GRJ0G9K53chgGwylmQ1WFabDxxB-Ewuyep8q5Ctznt90BMyn9dFqVuW-NQh6njfhKr4jMMSbBfgvSdortioi5aTHECLXTTWUMjo/s1600/instant+family.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwZwmp9k_w6rKSaPWDDjg89QOnP_qLDCK79-Gny57c7GRJ0G9K53chgGwylmQ1WFabDxxB-Ewuyep8q5Ctznt90BMyn9dFqVuW-NQh6njfhKr4jMMSbBfgvSdortioi5aTHECLXTTWUMjo/s320/instant+family.jpg" width="292" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
a mote of rhinestone madness...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
be assured that this is just the top drawer of many. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
granted, they are really small drawers... </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
still... </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
ooooh shiny! </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
distractability ensuing.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHOqkPzKYO-21vXz4NiL1aX5XBiqed_foziJnJAhlB5eymFOX_6I7IFruvgjCRXO1gOB7eJY007W0qySaLwXKkUWWquFzYEdMbU-MY8ZMAMMjZMOwm3h-6XiT6NhlRasJTHqkdMqpCiJhP/s1600/rs+buckles:dress+clips.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHOqkPzKYO-21vXz4NiL1aX5XBiqed_foziJnJAhlB5eymFOX_6I7IFruvgjCRXO1gOB7eJY007W0qySaLwXKkUWWquFzYEdMbU-MY8ZMAMMjZMOwm3h-6XiT6NhlRasJTHqkdMqpCiJhP/s320/rs+buckles:dress+clips.jpg" width="278" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
gladly you can't see the joy of goofus glass </div>
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and horse bridle rosettes well enough. </div>
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if you could, you would check me into a hospital</div>
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to deal with my obsessions with reverse painted glass</div>
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and fancy dress items for horses. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj7Zgj4bD31Pjve1epctZQAE1sGAsfsvbzPv_OkGGHs8d0zgAhrUZOyeDl4rQ2TPjDUGGXVjX65_F96mNeKKKPpmjGbws0a3RyjplgV1m7cfuYLRGg7HNyt2467PvGVnO7xj8h5EQpni6s/s1600/goofus:horse+bridles.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj7Zgj4bD31Pjve1epctZQAE1sGAsfsvbzPv_OkGGHs8d0zgAhrUZOyeDl4rQ2TPjDUGGXVjX65_F96mNeKKKPpmjGbws0a3RyjplgV1m7cfuYLRGg7HNyt2467PvGVnO7xj8h5EQpni6s/s320/goofus:horse+bridles.JPG" width="254" /></a></div>
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an incomplete collection of steel cut jewelry </div>
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and buttons. look, there IS some empty space still ok?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_JvQbu2LiASwSXKUJLu0Mp0H-WgG07vpXo_cpSE3WDa8-LkcVeS3TlcxdlYKH4YKuBEtYxCM5GX3tyhuTygl3eebbwPsJpFmbLMsIUAluDTgZ6VmVRH1faTmNtfoYVLQs_wOzxj2ey5gu/s1600/steels+buttons.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="317" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_JvQbu2LiASwSXKUJLu0Mp0H-WgG07vpXo_cpSE3WDa8-LkcVeS3TlcxdlYKH4YKuBEtYxCM5GX3tyhuTygl3eebbwPsJpFmbLMsIUAluDTgZ6VmVRH1faTmNtfoYVLQs_wOzxj2ey5gu/s320/steels+buttons.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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and the last of the crappiest of pics is for all you who </div>
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really </div>
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more </div>
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than anything else, </div>
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want to put a bird on something. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9e2SAJP3k-RdeGEh3Z-zIsxwHAL9i45jlhPpWZboF-JngBcqciCTalp4TmnzbCxUUByRwKSQ1ERkegrHmYHGH68BmKbrvHnn2P2ztRVRJit6iikfpVp_ldmUdRwdqhvrtcn1xkNXgxX-y/s1600/puttin+a+bird+on+b.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9e2SAJP3k-RdeGEh3Z-zIsxwHAL9i45jlhPpWZboF-JngBcqciCTalp4TmnzbCxUUByRwKSQ1ERkegrHmYHGH68BmKbrvHnn2P2ztRVRJit6iikfpVp_ldmUdRwdqhvrtcn1xkNXgxX-y/s320/puttin+a+bird+on+b.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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please try very hard not to judge me... i am already doing more than enough for us all. </div>
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i have a huge collecting problem... </div>
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and i am very busy putting other folks' kids through college. </div>
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<br /></div>
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this process of seeing my inventory is so overwhelming, that i am going to try my hardest to just use what cool stuff i have in my own space to make fresh jewelry with. </div>
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it is an economic need now. </div>
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i have awesome things and i need to share some ... </div>
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not all, </div>
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but some. </div>
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<br /></div>
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btw, the peacock necklace is nearly done. </div>
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i just need some decent pics of it...</div>
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to see where i am missing elements and can fill in the blank spots. </div>
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it is a process, a system, a standing back and visiting things. </div>
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it needs daylight. </div>
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<br /></div>
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time to get my snooze on. </div>
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;">xow. </span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7653737454144156586.post-89338863926158031352014-01-04T02:39:00.000-05:002014-01-04T02:39:14.891-05:00baby it is cold outside. and i really do not like it.ok, so i hate the cold. and yes i know i live in new england, so i should be getting over it by now. this past couple of days has just had a tempy dip. so i am not inclined to leave my house pod if i do not have to.<br />
today, i got all kinds of brave and showered to wash the nursing home grade unkemptness out of my hair. i have a huge fear of being relegated to a not so nice home when i get more doddery. i also do not see that my kids will visit me there even if they did promise to house me in a good one where i would be served cheese doodles and jello.<br />
they said this when they were all pre-teenaged. i am holding them to this of course. no matter what. it still comes up in conversations. so i know they remember it.<br />
<br />
anywaaaaays, i got all kinds of clean and warm and thought i might leave the house. OOPS. I forgot somehow that last night's lovely walk with the puppy, all alone in the bright yellow halogen lighting on my traffic-free street and in the blustery cold winds ... was also in the middle of a nor'easter. or sometimes they are called blizzards. um so there was some snow outside. and yes, there was a lot of it.<br />
so i had a child of mine go work on her shoveling skill-set. she is mighty delirious about her newly acquired L.L.bean boots... courtesy of her older bro. so i let her work out the mittenless existence she has with a pair of not thermally sensitive leather gloves. she got the front steps and the little bitty part of the walk to the driveway dug out.<br />
<br />
i thought i might dive into the snowiness and get some basics from a local food emporium. for all of you who may or may not run on local circulars, the whole foods in this area is selling split chicken breasts cheaper than usual this week. i thought it might be nice to lay in a stock for the freezer and snag some other basics while i was in the world.<br />
<br />
more on the topic of epic failure.<br />
if you dig the snow to move in and out of your home (using that as my example here, but you can insert any viable building you want...) it makes some rudimentary sense to dig the driveway out too. especially the 3 foot berm that the snow plows pushed in front of your car. otherwise, you can generally only bring home from the store, that which you can carry. and let's face it. if one of those things is a gallon of milk, the other side of you will want to carry a matching gallon out of sympathy for balancing your pedestrian act.<br />
<br />
i kind of gave up on my great outdoors adventure and made pasta primavera. those leftover smalls from the vegetable crisper come in handy. and noodles too.<br />
and then the big reveal. or realization. no cooking oil in the house. no dog food. no peanut butter. i dare not go on. also, there was none of the wine in a box that hubby drinks (not at all like a 'dick in a box' ala andy samberg and justin timberlake). so he drank my nice beer and whinged about it.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
what is up with that?</div>
not like he bought it or should drink it as it is MY favorite beer.<br />
so when he is just too irksome and my back is against the wall, i drop some butter into the dinner dish.<br />
screw his holier than thou attitude about his cholesterol level. i put up with a lot, but i sometimes need some butter. just saying. do not disrespect my beer, when you haven't thought ahead of the all out panic and local news reports to refill your wine needs... drink my stash and then think you will have your puritanical dinner as always. just don't. fair enough warning ...<br />
<br />
last night i spent time in my awful space of a studio. sometimes when i go to Garden City(a local outdoors mall), i go by anthropologie. it is against every fiber of my being to support stores that rip off artists. however, their corporate group fired the big ripper offers... and the space is super nice with really cute stuff in it for a gal that likes kitchen gadgets in enameled glory.<br />
so i bought myself a pale aqua colored timer a while back. it was part of my trying to corral my efforts and make them potentially more productive.<br />
i set the timer to 20 minute intervals and see how much clearing and sorting and filing and putting stuff away that i can get done in that increment of time. there are no hard rules for this, because if i am in the zone, i can always reset the timer for another 2o minutes. whatever my mind is in the mood for.<br />
<br />
so i managed 5x20 minutes and 1x30 ... yielding two hours and some odd minutes. i sorted and resorted. i pulled drawers out of cabinets and put the overflowing jewelry pieces into new much larger drawers. the top of the enamel topped table that is supporting two drawer chests with smaller drawers, is reorganized a little better now. i opened up several spaces and relocated several categorized groups into the new advent chest. i have one large drawer with steel cut jewelry in it, another for brooches that are all birds of one kind or another, and there were enough pieces to merit a fresh drawer for all things pastel, Japanese and floral celluloid. it is as if i am seeing these things for the very first time, all over again.<br />
<br />
as a matter of fact, i was asked to make a necklace for my friend sheri this past autumn. her sister's daughter was getting married and sheri wanted to supply a mother of the bride necklace to go with her dress. so i had a rough idea of what i would make. there were some requests made. to find my components, it was as if i was going shopping at a really cool store. one where all the stuff in it was pre-selected by me, for me. oh wait, it was just that! so i was able to make a nifty (kick ass) necklace by visiting my pearl item drawer, the place where i keep rhinestone necklaces for a swaggy piece of something glittery.<br />
and there were a bunch of other things i wanted to mix and match into the masse.<br />
starting with a plate full of stuff that looked like this:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfa7jFsvqA1zDoxle-1NEafQy-ZXI7Me85ksDn8I41U31_OG3sARE1XmdAUuYMKNblfLYbvNp9A1cHGpqOD8t9NHKpLwyqNWdvM2mGDNCvP7ChWp10H9mPavDQ0WE70S6jKJ0kIZorWZ9S/s1600/A4+materials+for+beth.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfa7jFsvqA1zDoxle-1NEafQy-ZXI7Me85ksDn8I41U31_OG3sARE1XmdAUuYMKNblfLYbvNp9A1cHGpqOD8t9NHKpLwyqNWdvM2mGDNCvP7ChWp10H9mPavDQ0WE70S6jKJ0kIZorWZ9S/s320/A4+materials+for+beth.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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and then i fussed and twisted stuff and moved things to get some balance and support etc. to result in this confection:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZpBV98WjkxA61wW79WzHKoT01hKTsvTAh6Vcmt7VASJbnuABOnoJSZz3sP0jHC5lBMHm_Zr3EFZ9uvwUb9Ma5vw5Fjcfsoy8qhzyrK3YwtifpzzNNb4cQKCAKCO6r8RoEgKGzvHup5RMs/s1600/A6+beth+finished.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZpBV98WjkxA61wW79WzHKoT01hKTsvTAh6Vcmt7VASJbnuABOnoJSZz3sP0jHC5lBMHm_Zr3EFZ9uvwUb9Ma5vw5Fjcfsoy8qhzyrK3YwtifpzzNNb4cQKCAKCO6r8RoEgKGzvHup5RMs/s320/A6+beth+finished.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
there were some constraints in building it, that i actually needed to try to pay attention to ... but all in all, they got handled.<br />
<br />
so you see, this is precisely why, i need to stay on top of the organization of my world... since i have other things to make. if i were a betting person, they might be along the line of a peacock feather as inspiration...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkxj7c_ftoytURDdU3JC3sJf2D7baqaev3XWLXO5rDVsQNJlQrmEpf1hatNLddz7Eraqwi4dldejUhdTMg6vgJ3UHJ_RePe-qw0TJ1HgTxN7wImx0i62ZirpXbMWkswrW0bulLewhKkKH6/s1600/peacock+feathers.tiff" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkxj7c_ftoytURDdU3JC3sJf2D7baqaev3XWLXO5rDVsQNJlQrmEpf1hatNLddz7Eraqwi4dldejUhdTMg6vgJ3UHJ_RePe-qw0TJ1HgTxN7wImx0i62ZirpXbMWkswrW0bulLewhKkKH6/s1600/peacock+feathers.tiff" /></a></div>
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how tragic would it be to not have some flowers and beads to work with that fall into this color palette?<br />
it would be so unhappy for my Canadian friend who wants a bibbery of peacock inspired necklaceness she is giving to herself for her birthday.<br />
through the magic of organizing, i was able to find some cool things to start a fun piece for her . <br />
<br />
also i am considering that being on the last couple of inches of milk in the jug, and having no dog food, no peanut butter, no olive oil and not much else to speak of other than plain pasta to eat in this house...<br />
well, it is a problem. just a stinky problem. we keep getting hungry here. even the kid that doesn't realize a cleared driveway is helpful for a lazy mama to drive to the store to haul home groceries.<br />
{i usually dig out the front and the driveway, but am on a torturous course of trying to get the kid to understand her life is not all school, ice hockey, selfies, snapchatting, netflix and whining}.<br />
<br />
i am gonna get back to the beginning. i don't like the cold. nor do i like the iciness that will come when this stuff melts and refreezes. i will likely be sledding on my back again down the driveway into the berm of snowy ice at its foot. somehow, i will be brave tomorrow and pull on some boots, finish the big dig and get out of here. when i come home again, i shall set the timer for more 2o minute time spates and continue on the satisfying clean up in progress.<br />
<br />
also, i have not been drinking, but am pretty tired... so i sound loopier than i should. forgive that please.<br />
a good night of sleep cuddled with lots of blankets is going to cure that.<br />
<br />
g'night all, warm or cold as you may be. if i am good, i will have a peacock inspired necklace to show for putting up with this posting.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;">xow. </span><br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7653737454144156586.post-15788558310741577742014-01-02T00:14:00.001-05:002014-01-02T00:14:22.491-05:00 systems vs. goals. <div style="text-align: center;">
so, it is a new year. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
oy. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i do not miss the old one a single little bit. ok, maybe a little. </div>
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it was so full of stuff.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
a lot of good and some irritating. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i wish i could tell you all the little details, but they are not all that memorable. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
in the world of the big (my) picture, i started to work on building a more firm selling presence</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
in real life. </div>
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i did a lot of shows. by that i mean 48 days of showing. </div>
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that is a lot of setting up and breaking stuff down. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
so now i am totally sick to death of my show 'look'.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
it has been kind of a quest to reinvent a nicer show set-up and breakdown. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
the most important parts are of that would ideally include that everything looks super-good to great, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
it all fits into my beast-mobile for travel to varietal venues,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and it needs to set up/store/break down easily. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i may be asking for too much, but it is my great white fish</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(hee hee, seinfeld reference).</div>
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the more important part of this 'in real life' experience, </div>
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has been to have a good inventory for the shows. </div>
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this means a lot more things made behind the scenes or in between shows. </div>
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this is not always the easiest to keep in balance. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i wish i could say with certainty, that it all was perfectly even, i have my doubts.</div>
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in retrospect, my goals fell significantly shorter of my fantasies than my realities. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
ways to identify that measure is through the earnings i created, the contacts made, and/or the branding that was identifiable.</div>
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<br /></div>
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i am pretty sure that the branding worked out, in almost all situations. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i even went so far as to finally get a banner and business cards made. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
these were absolutely invaluable and i could tell within days how effective having these tools were. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
it wasn't like i never had cards before, i just made sure that they were really good ones and the money spent on them was well worth it. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_csixeGwJqdgpHwqvfo9t7wULvSsx3uVF2Dn6LtSbVtmNesg9tS1tn5wesXaslgghVZXfwxAaltSECC7TkLy-VOY36LtCwEsY4Mn8MqNNLjtg58bJf5CH_-MzPB_OG5KzTSu8ZxFI_HjE/s1600/my+banner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_csixeGwJqdgpHwqvfo9t7wULvSsx3uVF2Dn6LtSbVtmNesg9tS1tn5wesXaslgghVZXfwxAaltSECC7TkLy-VOY36LtCwEsY4Mn8MqNNLjtg58bJf5CH_-MzPB_OG5KzTSu8ZxFI_HjE/s320/my+banner.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
my work was seen and i.d.'ed at brimfield and at other places i was not present to represent myself. </div>
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so that was a super win for me. </div>
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i was identified twice in my undercover persona(my day to day slovenliness),</div>
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by folks that knew my work from stores, the Boston MFA or my facebook pages. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
one woman came to SOWA from a significant distance(D.C. area?) while in the boston area, </div>
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to meet me in real life. </div>
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a couple from Ohio recognized me at a shopping haunt, from my facebook profile. </div>
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i am still blown away by the hugeness of the internet's power. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
as for the money end of it, i am not in the red this year end.</div>
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that one was a total surprise. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i am rich as hell in both resources to try to replicate items and </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
in-house inventory to make other cool stuff with. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
so that is a double win as well. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
also, folks came to my regular gig at SOWA to find me on days i was or was not there. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
another win. consistency is king. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-aATOnruVI0ID7pnUAw6C_lOPDJdJ1V6iCtYZcQo1CQPh-Lr4EPIdvDoFyX4-d5zKw8AUepDELaFxEUjNXc71R9oDknfQU3WRD3_slUS0QnR19Jr4RAr3AjiJJFhz2ebsWCILWPV-XrGB/s1600/BW+mosaic.tiff" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-aATOnruVI0ID7pnUAw6C_lOPDJdJ1V6iCtYZcQo1CQPh-Lr4EPIdvDoFyX4-d5zKw8AUepDELaFxEUjNXc71R9oDknfQU3WRD3_slUS0QnR19Jr4RAr3AjiJJFhz2ebsWCILWPV-XrGB/s320/BW+mosaic.tiff" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
as for the things i wanted to do yet did not...</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and,,,well no offense to anyone, customers or folks that trusted in me, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i took customer requests and was unable to complete all of them. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i lost orders. literally. my house is my studio and it is a little dare i say disorganized.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
it is enough so, that i purchased a couple of items twice. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
not a huge deal, but surely not good for efficiency. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i also was accused of things that never happened. this is what happens sometimes when you put yourself out there. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i had a lot of dreams after middle school, that bullying in real life would be over. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #3d85c6;">sigh. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i had the realization that i've dealt with a lot of significantly mentally unwell people... </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and because of that, my sense of when i am around the underbelly of illness, i am unwittingly too tolerant of it. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
this is something that i also worked on since it can be hugely problematic after you extend yourself to find unpleasant characters afterwards.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(a so-called friend stole my wedding & engagement rings...live and learn).</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i read recently an article recently, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
that goals are not the view to which successful people drive towards. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="color: #351c75;">they use systems.</span></i> </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
so i am going to work more on systems in my upcoming days. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
they need to be more of a 'honed' and less of a 'flying by the seat of my pants' methodology. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
also, i am a little bit bored. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i know, i am my own boss. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
it is a totally unreasonable thing to whine about, since i write my own schedule and set my own rules. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
what i did not achieve as well as i might have, was a balance between my varied places of selling. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
it is worth saying that i was juggling shows, a very bare on-line store, facebook promotions</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and a half baked wholesale experience.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
simultaneously, i had a bit of a creative block on a couple of necklaces. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
it feels the same as the way i feel when i try to get a perfect gift for a good friend. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
the pressure i imagine, makes me just freeze in place. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
there was also being mom and wife and a few other home related hats. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
NONE of these places i spend my thoughts and life are ones i can walk away from. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i am always going to be driving my own needs and deeds. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
so like i said, no whining ... and accepting that not everything went smoothly all the time.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
( a lot of the time, the teen drama did amuse me) </div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i guess there was a lot to freak out about, balance as well as possible, and try to improve upon. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
it hasn't been easy to manage everything while i was worrying about something else. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
anyone who knows me also knows my family motto is :</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"IT IS ALWAYS DARKEST BEFORE IT GOES COMPLETELY BLACK"</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
a newish friend said in a very matter of fact manner, that i was probably managing my time a lot better than i thought i was. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
WHOA!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i never considered that. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
now in my mama mode, it is time to cut my teen girl's stupendous and pretty hair. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
she expects such services. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
she says things to me such as the famous:</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"just cut an inch, ok? how much is that?"</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
as hard as it is to restrain my sarcastic nature, i mentioned that she has seen a ruler in her life, so it should not come as much of a surprise about what an inch of hair looks like. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
so as part of my effort to instill a fresh system, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i am going to do my 20 minutes of work in my studio space. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
massive epiphanic moments have erupted. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
two weeks spent resurfacing and colorizing my new chest of drawers are the direct focus of my present interests. </div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
those drawers are being reorganized and filled each night. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
in the mornings as i try to awaken to my to-do list for the day, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
many good ideas have come to me.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i have felt really badly that my use in my basement space has been ineffectual and irregular. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i use my husband's drill press a lot. he dislikes my cluttering his space with my stuff</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(it is super cool, no matter how much he gripes... i suspect he is just jealous).</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
so my plan to do several things...</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
1. create a system for storing my shipping/wrapping materials </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
AND</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
2. also make a personal space that is my own and does NOT need constant calibration...with my own </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
drill press. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
AND </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
3. the area needs to be reconfigured. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
when i moved my things in, i had an idea of what i might enjoy as working space. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
layout, storage of small jewelry items, fabric cut-out area for sewing, a sewing area, etc. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i no longer sew really. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i need my own drill press. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
my smaller chests of drawers are sagging a smidge in their middles, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
which lends me to think that they might be better off on top of a stronger base. so it is perhaps time to take out a tape measure and move stuff around. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
it is becoming a little clearer that i could snag a couple more chests and get some really good storage in place, or move some file cabinets to make a more considerate base. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
something has to give. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
there is a lot more to babble on about, but this is beginning to give me a headache.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i probably already have over-indulged in my cookie habit du jour. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
there have been poor choices in house recently, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
so i made some good old chocolate chip standbys last night. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
seriously, scratch baking is ALL GOOD!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
in spite of teen gal having hijacked the entire household supply of brown sugar</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(which i think multiplies in the pantry over time)</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and a bag of the yummy special chocolate chips i like to use... </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
the cookies came out superyummy delish. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
use a small bit of molasses in with plain white sugar if you need to make a brown sugar substitute. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
also instead of chocolate, i subbed in half of the chip addition in the form of butterscotch ones. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i had my faithful assistant aid in the process. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicuA17IKtSJ8YBEzIxI9ZWOF9jhDJBx4Qxi2JVtui-iCCy7tCG8Hh3Djs7FUZFDPb1t3Y1ju210XwTW3rpn5pckt9qYplv9qG7lyyUOsNMUDmXHBv8eaojL7w2aWApTDCkpxMF5sUcmDhO/s1600/cookies+and+moi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicuA17IKtSJ8YBEzIxI9ZWOF9jhDJBx4Qxi2JVtui-iCCy7tCG8Hh3Djs7FUZFDPb1t3Y1ju210XwTW3rpn5pckt9qYplv9qG7lyyUOsNMUDmXHBv8eaojL7w2aWApTDCkpxMF5sUcmDhO/s320/cookies+and+moi.jpg" width="189" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
it is also my farewell to cookie eating for an indefinite period of time.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
that and the return to playing more tennis. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i love tennis. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
if a good heaven is happening, i will someday have a waistline again. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
gotta work on this system too. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
farewell for now and happiest of new beginnings. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #e69138; font-weight: bold;">*</span><span style="color: lime; font-weight: bold;">2</span><span style="color: #e06666; font-weight: bold;">0</span><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-weight: bold;">1</span>4<span style="color: orange; font-weight: bold;">*</span></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">xow.</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7653737454144156586.post-72218401071737840182013-04-18T00:48:00.002-04:002013-04-26T18:23:56.334-04:00absent in mind, spirit and bloggingit has been a month and a half or longer since i last wrote anything. for who knows why, other than things have been very busy. i am happy that i am not imprisoned or unwell. My life is just busy enough to have me challenging a lot of new ideas and older commitments.<br />
this month has brought a lot of fresh stuff my way, most of it is absolutely wondrous and spectacular. so i thought rather than go into detail ad nauseum, i would just list some of the top notes from the recent events.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: #0b5394;">my list of some current personal events...</span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: #0b5394;">in NO PARTICULAR ORDER</span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: #0b5394;"> {ok?}</span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
1. spring is finally happening.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i was beginning to unravel </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
now i am super-grateful for the break in weather and the generous potential of upcoming months.<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
2. Three of my most profitable and favorite shows to do, are all scheduled to take place on the same weekend in december. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
splitting hairs is rough enough on any good day. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i am deeply perplexed as to how to manage this terrible turn for my holiday planning.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
it seems logical in light of this, that i now try to change things up and add in a 4th application for a show on the same weekend. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
perhaps things will shake out well in the long run!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
it is after all, still april. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
3. i was accused of intellectual theft by another jeweler/artist. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
then her mother got on the bandwagon.<br />
(although probably offered as parental support,<br />
it served as an act of infantilizing her daughter's business experience.)</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i believe that her accusations are wholly unfounded.<br />
if she were half the business person that she considers herself to be,<br />
she would have contacted me privately via email or snail mail, not as a private message on facebook.<br />
she would have asked before accusing me of the things she has.<br />
sometimes things evolve organically, along parallel lines independently of one another as in this particular case.<br />
my response would have been to consider her requests and to respond in kind.<br />
instead, i have been verbally assaulted and threatened.<br />
this simply makes me mad and stubborn. surely not the end result dreamed about.<br />
my work is in no way constructed or designed to infringe upon anyone in any manner.<br />
i do research to ensure that this is my result.<br />
what i do, is of my own making; from the hand painted flowers, to their jewelry applications.<br />
if this were not so,<br />
many folks would be paying royalties to the egyptians of the ancient world<br />
or major costume jewelry companies such as Monet, Trifari, Miriam Haskell, etc.<br />
they have all used the process of layering floral components.<br />
this is not a new thing, such as the wheel once was.<br />
everyone uses layered flowers and wheel ideas freely.<br />
honey and sugar go a lot further than vinegar and vitriol. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i do not take intellectual theft lightly at all.<br />
asking before accusing is a better process.<br />
any kind of plagiarism is a big NO-NO in my world. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
4. Jimmy Choo, the god of great footwear, had a couple of special meals with a friend of mine. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
SHE is the great chef of Kuala Lumpur </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Isadora Chai. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
her face graces many a magazine cover in her part of the world... </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
making any trip by a newstand, "surreal" as she says it. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
seeing her own face look back at her from the tiers has got to be both exciting and a little creepy.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Mr. Choo, has enjoyed, admired and inquired about Izzy's jewelry worn for both these occasions.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
the Chef and i are working through some plans for our future together, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
designing and marketing fresh glittery statements. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
good thing i am on Pacific Rim time for the greater part of it all. </div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
5. One of my dearest friends, Sydney, is a Torontian. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
she has surfaced from the mire that can be all consuming. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i call it parenthood. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
she is a woman who dresses for her own ideas, comfort, pleasure and entertainment. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
she is a magnificent human and i am so grateful she can snag a few moments to share her life with me... </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
if only through the graces of emails and photos. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
here she is on the streets of Toronto named as a street fashionista! </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
once a stand out, always a standout. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(and yet a wonderful mum in the mix of her boys being boys)<br />
<br /></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
7. when spring starts to edge into summer months, the show season will be fully underway.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i was considering taking a weekend off from the carny circuit in june to attend my college reunion. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
the idea of having that for a goal to turn back time, aka lose weight and find my legitimate waistline, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
has been tampered with. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
MY dear friend from down under, Rebecca Courtenay </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and her identical sister Mandy, will be visiting the USA for 10 days. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i am planning on breaking out of new england and meeting them in the flesh in new york city. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
it is my own doublemint miracle. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i am so excited about doing this i cannot say!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
8. and to top out my list, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
here is the last item for now...</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
my work was accepted into the Boston Museum of Fine Arts gift store in Boston. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i am surely as excited about this as anything. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
my rep posted this photo to announce this piece of news. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM18B_pll7iuJ13MhTn-pt6IsWrKmyAHktW0JEcNBbjknKWqYG6TQCbRDUmEWt2nKS8F7HqCNWopkG1oo24aWbcNxTYxl-_aWfFOmHAzCKtdTOyniRQmj_gWH2UCJv2UIYKRF1pppRjW4c/s1600/C5+winters+blues.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM18B_pll7iuJ13MhTn-pt6IsWrKmyAHktW0JEcNBbjknKWqYG6TQCbRDUmEWt2nKS8F7HqCNWopkG1oo24aWbcNxTYxl-_aWfFOmHAzCKtdTOyniRQmj_gWH2UCJv2UIYKRF1pppRjW4c/s320/C5+winters+blues.jpg" width="230" /></a></div>
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9. in a rather half-assed manner, i have been participating as a 'guest creator' in a friend's book.<br />
boy, i take the worst photos of some half done or overdone efforts.<br />
if i could just make this right for her... that would be super-duper cool.<br />
just like the invitation to join my efforts into her amazing volume.<br />
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and since you have been so nice as to stay here and look in on my world... </div>
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here are a few pics of fresh 2013 bloomers. </div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;">a ring assortment for SMYLE, </span></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;">a store in e. greenwich RI</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC_-ABy6qL3U-k2xBecRqdflbVdbaYUeiA9kvX0SO5nFsKVNSnjm9ttqTOZt33wWpH61dnt7JS3MZ7153TxomCQh9BjG3hZJeC43kun7a15SRg8EIj5qe9uj3yF6L-ssr5hYTZmOcJQta3/s1600/A2+smyle+rings.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC_-ABy6qL3U-k2xBecRqdflbVdbaYUeiA9kvX0SO5nFsKVNSnjm9ttqTOZt33wWpH61dnt7JS3MZ7153TxomCQh9BjG3hZJeC43kun7a15SRg8EIj5qe9uj3yF6L-ssr5hYTZmOcJQta3/s320/A2+smyle+rings.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">some flirting with chain bracelets </span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">available through Silver Circle Gallery </span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">in Putnam, CT.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvYPRtbOt6VcwvvB-udGFPo7XjtAFnsXB6uXEF3AXJT4eaKAhWUkADxdAaLXyE0Zw6Hi81IAd1aPM9wQbtgKlp-zGl5MJv4eGHLShk9FgHyBJJjxSrWth8WkRVq93fRA8W3jJP_pt8gmVY/s1600/A1+chained+.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvYPRtbOt6VcwvvB-udGFPo7XjtAFnsXB6uXEF3AXJT4eaKAhWUkADxdAaLXyE0Zw6Hi81IAd1aPM9wQbtgKlp-zGl5MJv4eGHLShk9FgHyBJJjxSrWth8WkRVq93fRA8W3jJP_pt8gmVY/s320/A1+chained+.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000;">mixed beaded flower necklaces</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000;">getting ready for </span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000;">Aine's in Reading MA</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDjVMJb7_6jRPPwP5bowmz_0SbHO1n5Es8ttHVa2Roof_7WxkD0SsW2dxiz-59eRrPyCOVYBZdpxA3ryGXMuedYt54Y11q9Lse7c8NBHQ4VK2XqP6XHg0zyg41shr3nO1PJ-tXuW3L-kXq/s1600/A3+ferdinand+GROUP.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDjVMJb7_6jRPPwP5bowmz_0SbHO1n5Es8ttHVa2Roof_7WxkD0SsW2dxiz-59eRrPyCOVYBZdpxA3ryGXMuedYt54Y11q9Lse7c8NBHQ4VK2XqP6XHg0zyg41shr3nO1PJ-tXuW3L-kXq/s320/A3+ferdinand+GROUP.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #4c1130;">Five Flower Bracelets</span></div>
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<span style="color: #4c1130;">for Etsy and Facebook ladies</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzTS2bwmd-lAOViONVGVUGO_k-_PNN-K_chLO3Zyoi8CRqFopWAQWMwNdDjn2meuvKCpm7V_Pdf_YtW-i7v_JHDE-fEO9LFX1gTveAKQr1mOnLp1Jsq3TTh43mmR9udmlrqBbvhAqRApL5/s1600/A1+mixed+5fs.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzTS2bwmd-lAOViONVGVUGO_k-_PNN-K_chLO3Zyoi8CRqFopWAQWMwNdDjn2meuvKCpm7V_Pdf_YtW-i7v_JHDE-fEO9LFX1gTveAKQr1mOnLp1Jsq3TTh43mmR9udmlrqBbvhAqRApL5/s320/A1+mixed+5fs.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c;">my own version of the Yellow Brick Road.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c;">it is my starting point from which i start and follow...</span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c;">i cannot make my lovelies without my flowers. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguSRT_XntAIZSIISSw_LSCUY40NlRKqItXENo_7-U-KSW_0RkJr-yPgvjArxsivNdSQzREOH2873ZPhSPYS_bVE1h0Gx4KHYZg8y6X1XBvMxouPaKO6F_TxCj3MZNsRMaRnqLNB12PmPvV/s1600/A4+april+showers.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="199" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguSRT_XntAIZSIISSw_LSCUY40NlRKqItXENo_7-U-KSW_0RkJr-yPgvjArxsivNdSQzREOH2873ZPhSPYS_bVE1h0Gx4KHYZg8y6X1XBvMxouPaKO6F_TxCj3MZNsRMaRnqLNB12PmPvV/s320/A4+april+showers.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #e06666;"><b>More flowered necklaces destined for mixed New England stores...</b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgscO7UYcfFye-SEfff9-_Dg7pX0cVYnC0s2xK0lpqs29UNPfpq_aBWZhlj-ExXbd6Gy52juzcwBtXdGQtiKClu6WOESAr8qQqPS-GIH8LteGUR-jvIULLC_212sw6I4XO_3KR6eQK9Nsxq/s1600/A2+april+bfns.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgscO7UYcfFye-SEfff9-_Dg7pX0cVYnC0s2xK0lpqs29UNPfpq_aBWZhlj-ExXbd6Gy52juzcwBtXdGQtiKClu6WOESAr8qQqPS-GIH8LteGUR-jvIULLC_212sw6I4XO_3KR6eQK9Nsxq/s320/A2+april+bfns.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #6aa84f;"><b>a pair of earrings that are colored to match a place i would like to go to...</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #6aa84f;"><b>one with tropical waters and sandy beaches preferably. </b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv4H5pL_ULuV0Bb7MUpmYmpF6nlgKIameZXxObycRytGoNVZSVgSzRIrOLUrDdN2gbEBUeuaCJytFyeMC05K9Efhi6IxIORlktL3SfTFLrfDs383s23ENfFMSOY0E13_HPRtwzUSuUIh4I/s1600/G2+part+II..JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv4H5pL_ULuV0Bb7MUpmYmpF6nlgKIameZXxObycRytGoNVZSVgSzRIrOLUrDdN2gbEBUeuaCJytFyeMC05K9Efhi6IxIORlktL3SfTFLrfDs383s23ENfFMSOY0E13_HPRtwzUSuUIh4I/s320/G2+part+II..JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: orange;"><b>Mixed post earrings getting prettied up for my first big girl show of the season...</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange;"><b>CRAFTOPIA</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange;"><b>april 28. in pawtucket ri. </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: orange;"><b>so excited... it is the kick off of my season and a lot of my dearest friends will be there!</b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLDDAvLMb0xLm5N6c9PMKHCSMSNG9Ma4srNpR1H55P8JoNS-q0Z2rraRPtTQ9ccXsWQtOUnPQiraaEFrBQvyQgyl7UO4oXqY3cGpB57aLvG94K5jz1vID1AwxDpgTQfaX4eFiJnj7QMkO9/s1600/A1+post+flings.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLDDAvLMb0xLm5N6c9PMKHCSMSNG9Ma4srNpR1H55P8JoNS-q0Z2rraRPtTQ9ccXsWQtOUnPQiraaEFrBQvyQgyl7UO4oXqY3cGpB57aLvG94K5jz1vID1AwxDpgTQfaX4eFiJnj7QMkO9/s320/A1+post+flings.JPG" width="270" /></a></div>
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finally...</div>
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let me not gloss over the profound loss i feel over the entire exposure to craziness,</div>
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a loss of sanctity and well being</div>
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with the bombings in boston this week. </div>
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the safety of my dear eldest daughter </div>
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who was only a couple of blocks away in her college library at the time... </div>
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came into question. </div>
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her proximity, innocence and ability to deal with the aftermath has been tested.<br />
luckily for everyone, she has taken it in stride pretty well. </div>
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i really didn't have any of this in mind when i made my fledgeling effort to let go (as a mom)<br />
and encouraged her birthright to go to college. </div>
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i am very grateful that humans are a resilient bunch</div>
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and</div>
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i am really happy when i see</div>
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goodness rising from people who have the most to lose.</div>
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so i have this last pic to share with you...<br />
my hope for some worldly peace<br />
through flowery appointment. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGxr_UGiN7CT3XxE3sgiV1wCznU4PWvmP67jM1n6sC1qlEiqAqttQNFraNwmcg9RKXANH7rKWtAvR9zHzPpyjLuHxu5dKLI2O5E62hdyhp4DUn5YOv_P6T1Q3zjzVwo-Ho80vYpjsr6vZu/s1600/A4group+signs.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGxr_UGiN7CT3XxE3sgiV1wCznU4PWvmP67jM1n6sC1qlEiqAqttQNFraNwmcg9RKXANH7rKWtAvR9zHzPpyjLuHxu5dKLI2O5E62hdyhp4DUn5YOv_P6T1Q3zjzVwo-Ho80vYpjsr6vZu/s320/A4group+signs.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="color: #e06666; font-size: large;">xxoo. </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: large;">W.</span></b></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7653737454144156586.post-60192041482122430102013-03-01T05:59:00.004-05:002013-03-01T05:59:28.434-05:00sixteen candlesit was roughly 16 years ago give or take a few minutes, that tess joined the world in her own style.<br />
my third and beloved kid was born in a hospital with midwives and doctors in the room. my husband was nursing a cup of jello. he always has had stupendous timing. still, he is delicate and needs to be fed no matter what. even if it is a momentous and deeply painful experience...for me. of course, i am the more obvious of the two of us. he seems to be the one who goes home and cries about the births and then throws up. i just tried to get to the other side of them, where the pain stopped and i could get a turkey sandwich or something to eat.<br />
<br />
so tess was made a part of our lives on this day. she was the go-to gal to explain stuff to her older siblings. she always listened to the music on the radio in the car and knew the artists playing. the other two did not... at least for another 15 yrs or so.<br />
of them all, i always felt that she and i shared a slipstream space. i have been know to get oddly irritated with her about "nothing". the reason for this, is that before she would say something, i could say what it was on her mind and would feel like she already had spoken. therefore our combined wavelengths made me feel as if she was nagging me. it has held some weirdly uncomfortable moments. she has looked flabbergasted by my being irked. upon my explaining things to her, she has usually accepted things.<br />
she is gifted with a finely honed sense of humor, a quick mind, good sense of self esteem , athletic skills and a generally nice personality. lucky duck.<br />
she is also the one that will be putting me into my grave first. her experiences are more of a conventional sort and for this, i am totally unprepared to deal with them.<br />
<br />
school up and until this year, has been relatively easy for her. she is not like her older sister who would sit in front of a computer at 10 and just hammer out a cogent and well posited paper in one go. tess is a plugger. she sticks with it all. her habit until middle school was to do all of her homework on friday afternoon for the weekend so that she could be free and clear to do what she wanted for the next couple of days.<br />
she is social and has traveled amongst the same kids she went to pre-school with. her current best friend is from this group and has been her home fry since they were 4 years old. there are others from this class of weinerschnitzels, but tess and kenz continue to travel together navigating the crap fest that is high school.<br />
the girl was "forced" to learn to skate on ice, when she was little. i tried my damnedest to learn as an adult, but i really am not made for gliding around on slippery water. it is one of those skills that is best learned when young... along with french. she was fine doing some figure skating, but i insisted that she try to hang with her dad and older brother, and see if she liked ice hockey. there was an opening in the program that husband and son were leading an instructional program with. she got all suited up in hockey gear, tried it once and now 9 years later, has not looked back.<br />
the teams she was learning to play with had no goaltenders. for a tuition break, she was offered that position. she loves tending goal. it suits her to the nth degree.<br />
<br />
college is a ways off, but she already is making tons of plans for her investigation and application processes. we hope with her rarified skills as a goalie, she will have some options that others may not have had.<br />
<br />
all in all, she is rounded and enjoyed as people go. still she is sixteen now. and i just can't bear it. i am now the bad guy in the decisions about what is happening. my feelings were hurt when her older sis and bro made plans to come home from college to specifically spend her birthday with her. her response was that she made plans for her friends to go to a trampoline jumping facility. it sounds really fun... but she chose to do that instead of spending the time with her family.<br />
one of the guests, has a little sister who is not barred from the proceedings and is included in potentially going out to dinner with her older sis and friends. the only way this scenario would work is if their mom takes their family to and from the jumping place and resto.<br />
i am sad, because, i would have liked to be part of her birthday. even if the only thing she might want from me is a ride. the other mom gets to spend time with her on this auspicious occasion. and is also permitted to entertain a presence at the resto for their dinner celebration. my husband wants nothing to do with this entire evening... and is irritated with me for uttering the phrase<br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"so this is how you are going to play out your birthday?"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">nobody is around that remembers when i used to bake biscotti all the time, drag around in my filthmobile to every event, in spite of not wanting to do 4 per day or walk the dog. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">they all have a convenient memory about what has been a big deal or not a big deal. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">i think a girl's 16th birthday merits some attention. i may be the only one. like i said, she is the most conventional kid here. she wants very little to do with her parents in public, if possible. i should have seen it coming, but not having done so, i am a little blind-sided by this. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">i will put on my big girl panties and if permitted, take her to the jumping spa, and to dinner with her friends. i will offer any who need them, rides home. i will wait out my time in the bookstore across the street with the older sister, as we await the older brother's </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">return for</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> spring break. all will be fun, saturday, when the royal one has stated that we can celebrate with her then. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">and i shall tuck my tail between my legs ... whimper to myself and try to like the wound quietly, that my muddled feelings are experiencing. let me be minty fresh and filled with crushed ice as well as a hefty bourbony insert, as i try my best to be a good happy birthday mom. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">and as always, she only cares about two things on her cake. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">one that it is chocolate, so i am going to try to make this delightful red velvet layer cake with cream cheese frosting. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><a href="http://www.cookscountry.com/recipes/Red-Velvet-Cake-with-Cream-Cheese-Frosting/7999?Extcode=L3BN2AA00">http://www.cookscountry.com/recipes/Red-Velvet-Cake-with-Cream-Cheese-Frosting/7999?Extcode=L3BN2AA00</a></span></div>
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and with the utmost of luck, it will look something like this:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAv1TNHN4emRCSb33Ne0SDpA5X0B3XBjEC35H46T2gCO4CPNs-C_iIFpUkoWDJjEKjYN9NCtpIUakMPjKQl_n2SJW4det7dkB5OVjR-jCdZW6FKjovZiDfiai8reiV_mAvG1ADl9mJzc6v/s1600/cooks+country+red+velvet+cake....jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAv1TNHN4emRCSb33Ne0SDpA5X0B3XBjEC35H46T2gCO4CPNs-C_iIFpUkoWDJjEKjYN9NCtpIUakMPjKQl_n2SJW4det7dkB5OVjR-jCdZW6FKjovZiDfiai8reiV_mAvG1ADl9mJzc6v/s1600/cooks+country+red+velvet+cake....jpg" /></a></div>
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the second obligatory part of this cake is that i has words written on the cake to the birthday gal herself. </div>
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traditionally, they say:</div>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">HAPPY FUCKING BIRTHDAY, TESSA!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">AND YES, IT IS A FAMILY TRADITION. </span></div>
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<span style="color: red;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: red;">THIS IS A VERY QUIRKY CREW. </span></div>
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so happy birthday to you queen widget. </div>
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enjoy the hell out of it. </div>
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if you are very good, i will send you a birthday card as my father sends to me...</div>
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signed in quotes...</div>
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love, </div>
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"MOM".</div>
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<br /></div>
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some dysfunctional traditions need to be started or continued. </div>
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you know how it is?</div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">xoxo. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">w.</span> </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7653737454144156586.post-4953540458503960752013-02-22T13:11:00.000-05:002013-02-22T13:11:03.196-05:00coffee or tea?everyone has their own kind of world. Madonna, the pop star, is and always has been a material girl living in a material world. i can identify with that. a lot of the time. i seem to be a binary girl though.<br />
it all comes down to the randomness and statistical evaluation of twos.<br />
<br />
recently, i allowed the household stores to winnow down to nearly nothing of greedily consumed favorite choices. in other words, we had run out of the good stuff. the essentials like corn chips, cookies, celery, non-wrinkled carrots, and olive oil were gone. it is my opinion, the most awful thing to run out of around here is coffee fixings. that happened too.<br />
i seem to have a denial based system that is self adjusting. if i run out of my own preferred coffee, i am off to the store lickety-split. if my husband runs out of his, i am fine with his inconvenience. that is until it impinges upon my own well-being.<br />
as no good deed can lie unpunished, i offered him some of my own starbucks brand coffee. i began to feel badly that i was allowing him nurture his lazy and passive aggressive side. his solution to not having the coffee he liked in house for personal brewing, was to purchase a cup at dunkin donuts each morning. now it seems like this might be a little of a splurge for him, however he receives countless gift cards from generous parents in his hockey world as thank yous for teaching their young'uns how to skate and play hockey. so he never spends a dime to snag his coffee in this manner. unless you consider his driving to a DD for his morning cuppa. then you need not worry again on that account, since he is using my car and therefore gas he also has not purchased. (note, this is the gashole experience... ranted at another time surely?). basically, he is only out for the time used in procuring a cup.<br />
so i offered him my grounds, which he greedily accepted. not one time in the several days that he was footloose and running around town, did it seem a good idea to stop in at the grocery store. i really think it was not on his mental to-do list. in the best of times, he is a mixed skill grocery shopper.<br />
his dad used to drag him and his brothers through PXs wherever they were stationed. they were an air force family with 6 kids and plentiful needs to fulfill. his dad would make all three of his sons trail him every saturday with 3 shopping carriages filling them as they rolled. one might think one of the daughters would occasionally take this trip with their dad or that the boys might have a baseball practice to go to...but alas no. i think that this has put a crimp in my hubby's ability to shop well for useful products in all aspects of his life, except for those from a hardware store or lumber mill.<br />
digression now complete, my hubby was waiting for some coffee brewing convenience to come his way without making it happen himself. i can get over this. i am directed frequently by my own culinary and convenience drives. it is not unreasonable to consider that i would be off to the market soon and would bring home the goods. <br />
what brings me to this silliness is that i was looking in my own passive way for my hubby to say," wow, that was some delicious coffee! i will not be drinking that dishwater that i now realize has been my mainstay for one more day! and thank you so very much for educating my palate as to what civil tasting coffee might be.".<br />
yup, my fantasy.<br />
what really happened when i asked...(since i have to ask), is that he said my coffee tasted moldy to him.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: purple;"><b>MOLDY???? </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;"><b>what ?????</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;"><b> are you crazy????? </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;"><b>seriously???? </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;"><b>really???? </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;"><b>are you kidding????</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;"><br /></span></div>
two days later after i pulled myself off of the ceiling, i went to the grocery store and purchased his can of store brand coffee grounds. they cost $3.49. i would be less than likely to even augment soil around my plants roots with their spent crushed hulls.<br />
i asked him if i got the right kind of coffee and how was his morning cup that first day. he said it was great and he enjoyed it.<br />
<br />
i nearly fell down to the floor, as if i had been gut punched. good thing, i am really used to this sort of shit.<br />
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<b><span style="color: purple;">MOLDY???? really??? </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: purple;"><br /></span></b></div>
i am off to have my own cup of nicely brewed breakfast blend and some pre-warmed milk with raw sugar. it is going to set my day apart... as it tries to do each day. inevitably, my own world is fine, but the dramatic festival that is my life WITH my kids and hubby and dog, well that is not my fault. i need this indulgence. it makes most everything work a lot better. the responsibility of this little day-centering ritual is my own piece of nirvana.<br />
<br />
i am only able to deal with this quirky element knowing he has a bad sense of smell and therefore taste.<br />
there. poof. rationalized. until the next time i am affronted by this anasmia influenced event.<br />
<br />
now, back to the question that is binary influence. i think of it as PLINKO. the game of chance from THE PRICE IS RIGHT. the tv show. Plinko is a game that is constructed so a contestant drops a disk into an slot opening at the top of a board. at the bottom of the same board, are a grouping of spots with prizes noted. i love this game, cause it takes a while for the disk to drop all the way to the prize. most folks will drop their disks hoping to get a car out of 3 parts of the disk landings or a buttload of money.<br />
either would be a great prize.<br />
my life is plinko based. i start every day with a set series of tasks. if i had my druthers, i would accomplish every little thing i may have considered to be on the day's list. NEVER happens.<br />
the vagaries of my weird sleeping, the dog needing to go outside, the drama of one of the kids, the aforementioned coffee crisis or any other weird thing always surfaces.<br />
the option to drop that disk and have it travel in a straight line from top to bottom of the playing field has about a zero to negative googleplex chance of happening.<br />
<br />
i try to make the best choice i can (pretty much like everyone else in the world). for the most part, things work out ok. still, there are very few days when everything goes well. you know the joy and amazement that would rule your emotions if you hit every traffic light on green for a long strip of travel? i am looking for that. instead i am plinko-ing along.<br />
<br />
last night i said i was having a pretty good day and my husband told me that 'the boy' had called from college to say he was written up at school, for cutting his roommate's hair in the mens bathroom.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: purple;">really???</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;">amazeballs!!!!</span></div>
and now back to worrying about him. we figure that he will eventually get kicked out of school there. all experiences with him are leading up to this inevitability. for some reason, his brain is made of swiss cheese and it is not accepting info about organic chem at all easily.<br />
<br />
plinko. binary life. one choice and then another. never truly a myriad of great choices... just selecting out the worst of many evils until only two remain. then the plinko-ness of it all settles in.<br />
<br />
i can only take so much of this crap. it bodes poorly for a woman with moldy coffee and a need for a good vacation.<br />
<br />
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here is what has been working pretty well. </div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b>wedding necklace</b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5TXDpIFJa6ykS32WNQ7LcOTJUyHFYPnbTs4LJr26BLPlon_rJ0kVFsYXulnNGmjr3RI4g-NkeqyxvR-mzAx0mDze5SFObBvsb7AWkqlNK3YS1VoRBuvLbdk9QwtPPxzdTI633FubIOMpf/s1600/E1+bethanie+progress.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5TXDpIFJa6ykS32WNQ7LcOTJUyHFYPnbTs4LJr26BLPlon_rJ0kVFsYXulnNGmjr3RI4g-NkeqyxvR-mzAx0mDze5SFObBvsb7AWkqlNK3YS1VoRBuvLbdk9QwtPPxzdTI633FubIOMpf/s320/E1+bethanie+progress.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">bracelet for a friend</span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">it just needs a bird on it.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_bgdVhBdnZFvqiCf-DCW39HsCfbTefOxLNO28r2pCQWhtdAhH7J4JhpIJsRDI4NpGZSzFXWI8eqDre3KJge_YoS79I-lrp4lF0eY59gfsPeiPJVcUprm3SPjnCVOBY8QuBcabnrrX0vp0/s1600/kerry+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="130" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_bgdVhBdnZFvqiCf-DCW39HsCfbTefOxLNO28r2pCQWhtdAhH7J4JhpIJsRDI4NpGZSzFXWI8eqDre3KJge_YoS79I-lrp4lF0eY59gfsPeiPJVcUprm3SPjnCVOBY8QuBcabnrrX0vp0/s320/kerry+3.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">earrings galore</span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">just need their wires</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1vUTdemSJscCELFrEKYZoGDzesoNlYyT0FsWWBYmfQVbYbpyeQH5bcCX6Zd9SnKL3G1A453RIqfN1nxH5s5n3XhxpPbUWdlAAyU0ZFlmaOM-X26RzFFCWxlBNftV6k-ioWWHA-2RZCweL/s1600/A2+valentines.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1vUTdemSJscCELFrEKYZoGDzesoNlYyT0FsWWBYmfQVbYbpyeQH5bcCX6Zd9SnKL3G1A453RIqfN1nxH5s5n3XhxpPbUWdlAAyU0ZFlmaOM-X26RzFFCWxlBNftV6k-ioWWHA-2RZCweL/s320/A2+valentines.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">mixed bracelets</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9VgTdIjUs8F72PJZzVNWtQ9n0Iwj8dDykMQVACONmsTfFDb6QbUQFQH0z4qlOUOLKBNvT0tpLsmgCe2bi9AncttiY76rk4rZ2s4at9D_X9xH5z6YZeNIRHqzkAA9tSbPnUB70tJuV6ysU/s1600/A1+mixed+bracelets.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9VgTdIjUs8F72PJZzVNWtQ9n0Iwj8dDykMQVACONmsTfFDb6QbUQFQH0z4qlOUOLKBNvT0tpLsmgCe2bi9AncttiY76rk4rZ2s4at9D_X9xH5z6YZeNIRHqzkAA9tSbPnUB70tJuV6ysU/s320/A1+mixed+bracelets.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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time to get up and make a trip to the post office, have lunch with some jewelry friends and stop morphing into the green chair in the living room. </div>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">xxoo. w.</span></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7653737454144156586.post-80297655349725444372013-02-16T03:36:00.000-05:002013-02-16T03:36:05.004-05:00waiting for the other shoe to drop.for once, i really have nothing to report on in my life.<br />
the past couple of weeks have been reeeeediculous. the widget had midterms, so the household crap piled higher than usual... recyclables, calls to the vice principal, doctor appointment making, bad teacher commentary, dishes, dog hair, etcetera.<br />
<br />
of course i know when someone asks, what have you been up to? the answer is generally, i am just waiting for a shoe to drop. one always does. i can't really fathom why, but my life is seriously ridiculous. there is no reason for it. i just can't seem to ever make plans. really, what is the point? something always creeps into my reality to mess with any sense of harmony.<br />
<br />
for example, our local gas company is owned by some british conglomerate. they run it by some absolutely irrational set of rules. a few months ago, our service was shut-off. we could not enjoy hot food or hot showers. it was during the deeply disturbing period where we were trying to figure out why our 15 year old daughter was throwing up every day(since august '12). that is a lot of discomfort to experience on top of the inexplicable crapfest that is high school. they shut our service off because we owed them $241and change. now in my mind, that is again just so silly, i have no response to it.<br />
so my husband chose to deal with his life by his now annual trip to the woods to go camping. his dream is to sit around a campfire to read and commune with nature. he has been reading "the last of the mohicans" for about 8 years now. not what i would say, a good reader. he is tenacious perhaps, but not progressive. so i said, GO! you are bugging the bejeebers out of me. just deal with the gas company before you go.<br />
so he paid the bill, scheduled his jaunt to the outer wilds of western Massachusetts and left me to stay home one morning to meet the gas rep who would hook the furnace back up and the water heater and the stove and the oven and the clothes dryer.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">fine.</span> </div>
<br />
well they called me to say, that they would be at my house to reinstate service in about half an hour. nothing. more nothing and finally at 5 pm, i called to find out where they had been all day. i truly was angry about the irresponsibility of this. turns out that they had been calling my husband's phone in the woods, where there was no reception. i didn't understand why, because i had gotten the original call to make sure i would be home to let the workman in.<br />
so while i was hoping a yeti would visit my husband in the woods, make his life a little more inconvenient, and validate my frustration with him playing chicken with our bills... nothing happened.<br />
<br />
through another series of phone calls, i was able to determine that we were not considered a high priority of anyone at the gas company. the long story bores the snot out of me... the short version is that it took 3 more appointments with them to ascertain that they still were using the wrong phone number and were for magical reasons, constantly canceling our rehook-up of service. the child underwent an upper and lower GI series to determine that she was well enough. this took place during "Super-Storm Sandy". the gnarly hurricane with a cape. our daughter is healthy with no apparent issues, she is just stressed out beyond reason. seriously, who wouldn't be?<br />
<br />
the end result was that we got our service returned to us. the cause of the mishap was not that our bill was overdue, in fact someone from the gas company had read our meter wrong. they reported to the company that we owed $4000 which represented a two year period of non-payment.<br />
my not having had service, a hot shower or a non- microwaved meal for a month made me more taciturn than i want to be. i was able to catch them in this stupendous failure to serve us legally and rightfully. not that anyone or any commission could advocate for us, but we were allowed a credit on our bill of $25.oo. that is not a big gift, especially for nearly a month of significant inconvenience.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
i think i did groan and grumble rather loudly. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
meanwhile my husband was visited in his woodsy camping trip by a black bear. in my mind, it served him right. he always likes to leave this shit to me. this is only because i am the reasonable one. if adequately provoked, i can ask enough questions to make a case for nearly every event. information to me, is ammunition. in my mind, everyone thinks i am a bitch and he is a swell guy oppressed beyond function. it is not the case and they do not live in our shoes. i do the weird and heavy lifting. he often gets credit for more than is his share. i become more grey haired daily. which is ok in the long run, because i want to tint my hair pink. i think helen mirren channeled my dream recently.<br />
<br />
so why is this being reported? well after my daughter had her midterms and a series of totally unreasonable things happen to her in school, at least one of which was illegal... the gas company came to visit us again. it is kind of like a bad fairy or the wicked witch of the west rolling in with her flying monkeys just to torture us.<br />
they were here to shut-off our service all over again.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
HEAD-SLAP!!!</div>
<br />
only rarely, but more frequently do the weather forecasters get the weather systems right. they reported that we would be having a severe storm last week. it was blizzard grade. NO-one disputed the authenticity of these reports. YET the gas company was going around the neighborhood telling at least half of us, that our service would be turned off.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
shockingly, THE BLIZZARD HIT. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
it was perfectly on time and as intense as it was reported that it would be. </div>
naturally, the power went out. this act of nature intervening with regular domestic services caused our heat to go with it. the furnace is somehow electrically driven. i got a tutorial on this, but it was so Rube Goldbergian, that i glazed over during a portion of the lecture naturally, i will need to ask for another explanation of this.<br />
<br />
so no heat, no electricity, no light, no patience, and gratefully, no daughter. in a move that was sensible against all odds, she chose to wait out the storm with her best friend and her family. none of this shit ever happens to them. there is NEVER any service interruption or inconvenience in their cute little world. also they are very mellow people. so the entire blizzard was kind of a kick for them. they ate well, sledded, played in the snow, drank hot chocolate, at spaghetti and meatballs, ordered take-out pizza... like any other weekend in winter.<br />
i cooked by flashlight after 4 pm and daylight before that. working hours were short due to lighting issues. we were fine, the ole yeti repeller hubby and me. it was kind of beautiful and serenely quiet. i enjoyed it mostly. i dug out the car and the front walk too. the dog couldn't find a spot to pee or poop for days, unless i walked him for that purpose. eventually his neurotic spirit was overwhelmed by his biology. it was kind of relaxing since i had no ability to make things go the way i wanted them to. so i fantasized that i was on a frontier and could deal with things. i had to go with the flow.<br />
fantasizing this way was the operating sensibility that got me through it all.<br />
<br />
so after not needing to go to the emergency room, nor deal with a teacher-related issue, nor console the girl over the unexpected, inconclusive break-up with the first boyfriend, i returned home after picking the child up from school. i thought i could have a cup of tea and work. nope. only days after the blizzard, the gas company was waiting at my door to shut our service off AGAIN. they are relentless and driven by irrational behavior. they do not serve their customers well, nor do they treat their employees nicely.<br />
i am perplexed by their way of doing business. the fact that they have no competition to force better service is a loss to our community.<br />
<br />
i chose to delve back into my fantasy world; the one that is all clean and puffy and white. i wrote a check to keep my gas service intact, just a litttle longer. i was told that things would be fine, at least until they sent out another agent to shut us off in a couple of days, as the computer would instruct them to do.<br />
<br />
this reality shows the load of snow on my street, bridging my fantasy with the crazy reality that continues to insert itself. the skies were so very soft, romantic, pretty and cotton candy colored. it was a much nicer version than the one i was to experience only a couple of days later. it bridged the crap-fest that is the gas company visits with a little bit of natural beauty.<br />
<br />
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sunset over the post-blizzard treated street</div>
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i baked scones in preparation </div>
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for the snowfall, iciness of the power lines and wild 60 mile an hour winds. </div>
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these are just basic currant with vanilla ... so good i may have eaten most of them myself. </div>
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messing with my blood sugar levels unpleasingly.</div>
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i have too little personal control when it comes to any buttery treat. </div>
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and i made a stab at a graphic that i photoshopped text onto to become my valentine's day card. </div>
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i believe it is possible that my epitaph shall include a record of my implosion </div>
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due to photoshop illiteracy.</div>
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and a bunch of nice earrings were constructed finally from my painted flowers. </div>
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these were accomplished in small spurts during and after the storm. </div>
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this palette reminded me of my daughter's christmas cactus </div>
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and the color of its blossoms.</div>
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the contradiction of the blues and oranges, </div>
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reminded me of hot and cold water running into a bathtub. </div>
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opposites, but so great blended together. </div>
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and finally, for this rant about nothing..</div>
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the happy snow loving dog. </div>
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the one who still can't quite get the hang of running in the ice crusted snow </div>
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without sinking and getting stuck or slipping. </div>
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just for reference, this was last summer</div>
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and this was last week.</div>
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yup, i got nothing to say. </div>
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and i am waiting for the other shoe to drop. </div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: large;">xo. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;">W.</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7653737454144156586.post-82395957119758128162013-02-06T10:32:00.001-05:002013-02-06T10:32:48.714-05:00unrealismi am sure i should not say anything. so often i feel this way. it is hard to not start to twitch though.<br />
the past two decades, i have spent my time as a stay at home mother and earned some money to help my family with groceries and occasional niceties. it is a career path in my mind that is flawed. having done absolutely everything within my power to raise my brood, i am at best proud... and at worst, frustrated.<br />
<br />
my daughter has had a few events over the past couple of weeks that were untenably frustrating as a side-liner. i have to let her try to run her own life. at least as well as she can. luckily, my now 21 year old daughter is able to offer some realistic and responsible input as i mull my options over. if you are one of my blog readers, i apologize profusely at this point. i feel as if i need to continue to vent.<br />
<br />
my most recent rant on the state of teachers at her high school ought to be over. i would be remiss not to add another story to the mix... just to keep the context of what a high school student might be contending with.<br />
there are several stories that still rankle... however the one i would love to report on now has both my husband, my 21 yr. old daughter and myself just angry. purely and simply angry.<br />
the girl took a high school mid-term exam recently. as she recounts, she noticed at 3 minutes before the end of the exam, she did not have an entire exam to complete. how would she have known? it was quiet in the room for the test takers. she was missing an essay and graph. when she reported this to her chem teacher, it was disregarded. i called the school to speak to an administrator. eventually, the teacher told her that she had failed the mid-term, based on her performance... but in light of missing a part of her exam, he would give her a "C" for her grade. considering she studied what she could and had a much higher grade in this class going into the exam, i felt that this was unfair and inequitable.<br />
<br />
she was bereft about this turn of grading events. she really wants to go to college to play sports. ice hockey is her choice. she has already been playing for 8 years and it is in her blood.<br />
<br />
what sets my teeth on edge is that this chem teacher not only told her he was giving her a grade that was based on an incomplete exam, but "HAYZEUS" had spoken to him the night before about this grade he was to give her.<br />
he is a latin man and apparently teaches a lot of the class in spanish. as my daughter is not spanish in any way, nor does she speak spanish(in spite of 3 years of classes through middle school), she ought to be taught in the language of her country. i am digressing again.<br />
what got my attention after being told she was awarded her grade after a call from Jesus, was that this man asked her what religion she was. then pursued that to ask if she was Catholic or Jewish. then asked what religion her parents were. then pursuant to that line, asked if she went to church or to synagogue. then followed that with whether she believes in God or not. and it digressed from there. he turned to another student near my daughter and spoke in a derogatory manner about her in spanish to the other student. one does not need to understand the spanish to comprehend the body english involved.<br />
this school does little to make me happy these days.<br />
<br />
now she also got her grade from her calligraphy teacher. she created (in her mind) an elegant calligraphed menu for a project. the teacher had been absent more than 50% of the classes and when she did show up to teach, wore a sports jersey and puffy bear claw slippers. this grade was also disagreeably received. seriously, how can a no-show of a teacher be considered as having any sense of elegance if she is teaching in slippers with claws on them?<br />
<br />
i begin to think that i ought to be in the school every day. culling information from the ongoing antics of this professional crew for a sitcom. i am also pissed off, since the principal told me the last time we spoke, that i was unprofessional in my need to speak with him without an appointment. i am sorry, i had NO FUCKING idea that i needed to be professional as a mother with an issue. this man is as big a beanhead as any of the people in this school.<br />
it is beginning to make the teachers on the tv show "GLEE" look hugely NORMAL.<br />
<br />
i am off to the school in a few minutes to pick up my daughter to go to the doctor's office. it is bound to be another posting topic, as it too is just fraught with unneeded crap. how is this continuously happening to the same girl? really, isn't high school enough of a problem that we all try to come out of as close to unscathed as possible? this just seems like it is a joke right now.<br />
<br />
so i have been making things that are a lot less or a lot more colorful and controlled. it is a teeter-totter in my mind. no balance from one side to the other per se, just a fulcrum of florals in the middle. i have gone from creamy bilaterally symmetrical off-white colors to the other side of things in a bright lemony yellow misto of textures, shadings and shapes.<br />
the flowers are my balance. they are always there. mother nature is culpable. she follows her own rules and continues to make beauty where there is none. her anger is sheer wrath when let loose, but in this one nice way, it is simply a thing to make my heart sing. let's face it, i need some singing happening.<br />
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">lemonade III bling added.</span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">creamy demure mixed whites</span></div>
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wish me luck, i am off to take the girl from the portal to hell, aka high school to the other end of that portal, the pediatrician's office. </div>
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i need a coffee, bad. </div>
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with a shot and a beer. </div>
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it is only 10:30 a.m.</div>
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later, lovelies. </div>
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xow. </div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7653737454144156586.post-43926239572371318642013-02-01T00:24:00.005-05:002013-02-01T00:24:40.275-05:00vicarious livingi am sure most folks lead a more exciting life than i do. i know this because i seem to be living my own vicariously. it is likely that this happens to loads of folks... they are just more sensible than to report on it.<br />
this week has been a rough one, since my daughter has had the returns on her mid-term exams come in. of course that can go either way, well or crappy. in her case it did not go particularly well. she has some of the quirkiest teachers to ever cross the threshold in any academic institution. the result is that she has experienced the unfairness of laziness in academia.<br />
<br />
for one teacher, his accusation just before the holidays, of plagiarism was the shot heard round the world. a meeting with a vice principal, my husband, myself and the teacher who accused the child, along with our daughter yielded spectacular results. the first was that i got into trouble for trying to tell that teacher to simply "shut-up". this is not a pairing of words i ever let my kids use, so they all know that my blurting them out is a sign or extreme frustration. it was resolved that the girl did NOT PLAGIARIZE. the teacher offered to apologize to the class and set things right. her grade was respectfully returned to an "A" as it merited prior to the accusation. now several components of this experience have lingered. one was that another student did plagiarize on the same assignment and she got off easily. she was awarded a 45% on her paper. signifying a fail for the assignment. my kid was lumped in with her and it lingered along with her, since mr. doo-doo head NEVER apologized for his accusation nor did he reflect that my girl honestly earned a good grade.<br />
not only has no apology been issued, but the entire school knew of this accusation of intellectual theft. at the time we all(except mr. dd head) knew that the stink of it would travel with the girl for quite a while.<br />
not only has this experience been frustrating, but no-one on school staff has managed to check up on the outcome in the post-holiday/ mid-term time. surely, they see one another at school and can have a quick discussion in passing? what does happen in passing, is that the teacher has been overheard in the halls of the school not one time, but 4 separate times since, discussing my daughter's performance in this class and the grades she has earned. it has happened in the teacher's lounge also. i know this since a teacher reported it to me directly. so in normal places, this might be cause to fire such a bad instructor.<br />
not in providence. which really sucks as far as i can tell.<br />
<br />
as for mid-terms. the same poor girl took a chem test. she studied and studied hard for it. unluckily for her, she did not receive some portion of the exam that included a graph and an essay. so her exam was incomplete and she was failed in it. her grade coming into the exam was an "A". why would any teacher knowing their class at all... not question the failure of the student at such an exam, when up until that point, the work had been exemplary?<br />
i think that when asked if she could take the parts of the test that were missing from the exam booklet, her teacher said no she couldn't, but he would give her a "C" for the exam. again, injustice. at what point did taking exams, quizzes, doing homework and in class assignments become the entree to buying a used car from a slimy salesman? the man would neither allow her to contact him over the long weekend by email or phone. so paranoid about her getting ahold of him. yet... today, after awarding her a B to shut her up, he inquired indelicately about her religious life. he did so, after he explained that his offer of a "B" was because he had talked with God the night before. not only did he ask if she was catholic or jewish, but how did she attend services and did she believe in God?<br />
i am sorry, but the course was in chemistry. not philosophical or religious upbringing. this must be against some rule of the school?<br />
<br />
then of course, there was the math test. her calculator batteries died in the middle of the exam. she replaced them the next day with what she thought were fresh batteries. unfortunately, they were not. so the teacher refused to allow for her to take the missing part of her exam at all.<br />
can i please get a break for this kid somewhere?<br />
<br />
just when things settled down from yesterday, her boyfriend broke up with her. no reason in particular, but still he knew she was having an exceedingly bad week. i would say, he is hurting what is already pretty broken. so she has been in tears for days now. today's breakup was the icing on the pity party cake.<br />
i asked my hubby to bring her a bunch of daffodils to cheer her up and he did ok on that. he also brought a lifetime supply of m&ms.<br />
surprisingly, i am impressed on his sense of what to do. he has never been broken up with, so he has no idea how awful it feels.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"> I KNOW!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">how the hell is that possible?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">well, it just is. </span></div>
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the same girlfriend for 10 years, going nowhere fast.. and then me. </div>
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poof. 38 years of dating and no one has ever broken up with him. </div>
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i must tell you... he can be really irritating too. </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">i digress...</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
anyways, i am miserable. i live through each one of these tear-filled experiences and hope for a kind, warm, even resolution. some type of human connectedness where no pain is involved. i am constantly reminded that life is just not fair. i am her portrait of dorian gray. i feel it all and am trying to advocate reasonably for her in her unfair experiences. the thing with the boyfriend is sort of not particularly fair, since she had NO idea it was coming. they are really great friends, but the boy is a senior and tomorrow he turns 18. it is a sneaky ass way to get out of any valentine's day hullaballoo too. poor daughter. she turns 16 in a few weeks herself. so i am a little broken hearted for her. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
what she shocked me with, after several hours of crying, was that the break-up is imminent. not a real firm thing. he just wants to think about things for a little bit. as he ought to if he has doubts. she of course has a retaliatory plan to simply dump him. firm and unwaveringly for public record. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
so i credit her with a resilient plan of attack.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
personally, i would make him a cake for his birthday and talk through what he is feeling at sea about. of course, she is two years younger and is not experienced enough to do that. i am unwilling to coach her on these tactics, since this is the crap of life that one must endure and hopefully learn from. i am pretty willing to do one thing though. that is burn the grey sweat pants that she has lived in for months. there are 3 pairs of these narsty things. it hasn't yet been done, since in reality, they are my husband's pants. he would be upset to miss out on their coziness. still i truly despise sweatpants. i have never worn a pair and never owned a pair. it is a no-brainer for me. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
so i am on my 4th life as a 15 year old now. reincarnation does not only happen through death and resurrection. it seems to happen through proximity. and i may add, it is a bitch every damn time. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
i am not looking forward to grandchildren sharing this nonsense with me. hopefully they will see me as totally addled and out of touch. that is my plan. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
i just wish my girl felt a lot better. this is hard shit. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
on a sunnier note, i made a third incarnation of a beloved necklace. It is sunny and yellow. warm and mixed of brightness and sparkle. i can only hope it holds some magical power that will thrill someone as much as me. i am considering adding more silver and crystal necklace strands in its bounty to glimmer and glint with cheery, non-wintry light. also, it may wind up staying with me for a snick of time. i am pretty greedy ...</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Lemonade III</span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"> </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFok75gwvFoTmkCmNXILYki1vcG3EZeknpIxu6Ba0arbKFG_LD2AAwT0ix4cf31oBriQXYbWb1rB2VpP2__2jNvu1C1MYTFtEFHd6AUY_Cwp-4L6RT1UssIDesw063HSsdbJpOVthStdER/s1600/A4+lemonade.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFok75gwvFoTmkCmNXILYki1vcG3EZeknpIxu6Ba0arbKFG_LD2AAwT0ix4cf31oBriQXYbWb1rB2VpP2__2jNvu1C1MYTFtEFHd6AUY_Cwp-4L6RT1UssIDesw063HSsdbJpOVthStdER/s320/A4+lemonade.JPG" width="319" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and for some limey goodness... on a citrus colored theme, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #93c47d; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><b>granny apple green </b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #93c47d; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><b>bubblemania necklace</b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggBLAfhAxxXce2J4llfIR1MN6kmJEtses0KTOQpF97FuS9H7ZHpW8Xjr8Vsm1BiVSfaz4DksOG27TWea1mAwaxtQ7o1CdZ4SXhrfbSh1y2wGhw2GF9ZL_1Y3WV7re6So7IxLNT0jrzJ0k_/s1600/P2150588_950x950.shkl.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggBLAfhAxxXce2J4llfIR1MN6kmJEtses0KTOQpF97FuS9H7ZHpW8Xjr8Vsm1BiVSfaz4DksOG27TWea1mAwaxtQ7o1CdZ4SXhrfbSh1y2wGhw2GF9ZL_1Y3WV7re6So7IxLNT0jrzJ0k_/s320/P2150588_950x950.shkl.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">other stuff is made in different levels of completion</span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">this is good, since a lot of it has been repairs. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">repairs are just thankless time-using tasks. of course the owners of the pieces are happy that they got done, but they are pretty much complete re-do items. after 10 years of service shouldn't a piece of costume jewelry be freed up from service? or perhaps replaced? it would seem that would be an option. i guess i am happy that my people really like to wear their things into the ground. that they seem to span over a long period of time, without disappearing from fashionability or personal style, well that is just so sweet. so on i go to fixing the last 2 pieces in the library of renovations. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">here is just one of them. i forgot to take pictures of the rest. they just needed to be returned to their homes asap. things get lost here often. i try to keep order, but i am in the midst of a lot of different stuff on every given day. i am thinking of a tagging system or a clapper to keep pieces located in my work areas. it may be helpful. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">cynthia's necklace. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnhpwKY46wYeUsqftO9O3BS6_muaFgxLabBciYYOZ2cRbvL48ppf83UQtOgluGx01jwT_BUFA07cLQ1Hbi_7kmzo1Eq5WL4KVW32xe29p0ZA7V4vfsmK3j7bhQH3bE294wnYQ6x1zi7yFe/s1600/P2150590_950x951.shkl.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnhpwKY46wYeUsqftO9O3BS6_muaFgxLabBciYYOZ2cRbvL48ppf83UQtOgluGx01jwT_BUFA07cLQ1Hbi_7kmzo1Eq5WL4KVW32xe29p0ZA7V4vfsmK3j7bhQH3bE294wnYQ6x1zi7yFe/s320/P2150590_950x951.shkl.JPG" width="319" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyK-NoJ0dvl6bLhbW4x0qOqR9IgZvf52i3h9RjCF4ZV4GL9LPHNQMgMdRth5eIe17NAlsP5H6OrZq4uiapsK89kiS262CSFADKmXLfm_d0bo_wAblrMbXDkGG0dY5a6DQ3Er6Ubi1rAzWa/s1600/P2150593_950x950.shkl.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyK-NoJ0dvl6bLhbW4x0qOqR9IgZvf52i3h9RjCF4ZV4GL9LPHNQMgMdRth5eIe17NAlsP5H6OrZq4uiapsK89kiS262CSFADKmXLfm_d0bo_wAblrMbXDkGG0dY5a6DQ3Er6Ubi1rAzWa/s320/P2150593_950x950.shkl.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">time to color up some fresh flowers. the temperature is dipping from the sultry 60's of earlier today. i missed my painting opportunity, but will still need to run in and out of the house to do what i can.</span><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">i need some fresh blossoms baaad. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">so see you later alligators... time to get back to the paintbox. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #e06666; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">xxoo. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #6aa84f; font-size: large;">W</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7653737454144156586.post-20472141500306490092013-01-24T04:06:00.003-05:002013-01-24T04:06:50.038-05:00nothing is what it seems to be...<div style="text-align: center;">
this morning... albeit much later than i wanted it to be, my husband announced two things. the first was that we were out of milk and that he would go get some. so there would be coffee on my horizon. (yay!!!). would i mind waiting until he came home from his tennis game at 6 pm.(GRRRRR!)</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
the second was that the dog had thrown up on the kitchen floor (sigh...) AND that it was weird looking, so he had saved it for me to examine. so he softened the blow of my not getting coffee simultaneously with letting me know i had already managed to sleep clean through a laboratory kind of hazmat situation. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
in that moment i saw hundreds of dollars floating away to unspecified vet bills in my future. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">sigh...</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
naturally, the dog threw something up that was unidentifiable to the male of the species. meaning the dh dared not look at it closely. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i took one look at it and saw clearly that the pattern from this week's roll of paper towels was in the mix. no wonder he did not know what it was. the evidence of shredded saran wrap at the base of the open kitchen trash was not a distinct enough clue. and yes, i buy a different pattern on paper towels to help identify the age of the upchuckage. it is a little bit of domestic CSI. or ambient carbon dating. at least i knew when the offensive paper towel had been used/eaten. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
the dh has NO idea that i make dinner here every night, (ok, maybe he has some clue) and that spectacular and delicious rolled tenderloin of pork filled with baby spinach, feta cheese, a pesto of sundried tomatoes, kalamata olives and a little bit of lemon zest served with a raspberry mustard balsamic vinaigrette on raw spinach salad (so it's a theme park here) and a side of white plain unembellished basmati rice (for the picky ass teen and her bff staying over)</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
did not come out of thin air. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil4rM9g5XxgztMOtorUjJ8NJdq1hAUDgc97xwLmFcTPhbjZbnwa0z0NPnCj5epzDQmYmWae3axC5U1dXE2extAG55oxsaYKzbUkZOFtXIGWL1NuWEuCP-L6qigtFenEOdnE0n9UVyy9kIR/s1600/pork+rolled+dinnerB.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil4rM9g5XxgztMOtorUjJ8NJdq1hAUDgc97xwLmFcTPhbjZbnwa0z0NPnCj5epzDQmYmWae3axC5U1dXE2extAG55oxsaYKzbUkZOFtXIGWL1NuWEuCP-L6qigtFenEOdnE0n9UVyy9kIR/s320/pork+rolled+dinnerB.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
it required that i pat down the pork tenderloin before placing it into a hot cast iron pan before it went into the oven. thus ensuring a surface crust would form. insuring inherent the flavor going over the taste buds would be appropriately intensified. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
of course THAT was what the dog ate and threw up. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
he would not know that, since he did not participate in anything other than telling me i was grouchy that evening. it was simultaneous to having our 15 yo female house-guest explain the game of football to him. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i hate to say exactly how many times i have done this very same task. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
so maybe he is not a guy hardwired with a football comprehension gene. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
maybe he thinks we eat takeout from down the street every night </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
maybe he thinks i enjoy working around all the weirdnesses of people who eat here. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
maybe that dog is a cat. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
see, if the dog was a real dog, he would have re-eaten the disgusting mess on the floor. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i would not have had to clean it up. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
ok, maybe that is only labs and golden retrievers. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i can give him a half pass cause he is only half golden retriever. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
maybe the poodle half is what separates him from the disgusting riff raff of doggery?</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i just don't know. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
so the man is not always manly, he is too sensitive. he has a fake laugh for sharing when he is flirty and trying to get out of doing something like putting the double hung window sashes back into the frames that he took them out of about 15 years ago. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i have carbon dating on this too. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
it doesn't matter to me that he bitches so loudly that my ears hurt when Spring rolls around and the gas company comes looking for some payment on a jacked up bill from our non-energy efficient house. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
oh the bitching is loud and whiny then. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
consistent too. like the sun rising in the east and juliet is the moon...</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
so let's keep track here. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
husband does not understand football. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
does not replace windows. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
is a carpenter... and a really good one i am told.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
the dog is not a retriever. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
the dog is a cat. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
then there is the teen aged girl. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
she thinks she lives in a dorm or something that is not here.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
she has had the same water glass in her room for months. not cleaned or used... so that is a wash, pardon that bad pun. also a bowl with the entrails of orange slices. another empty bowl with the entrails of salsa. she will not under virtually any circumstance eat tomato on anything from a hamburger to a salad. however before she can get the jar of a salsa open, she is drooling. lest you suggest it is because the tomato product is cooked in the salsa, i will counter with a claim that she enjoys her pasta sauce on the side. because, it is a tomato product. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and then the general mess of her room... </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
it is lead off by the extra mattress in the middle of her room. upon which she has no countable number of books and papers in piles. they remain until the dreaded mid-terms have been completed. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
while the bff was here for 3 days and nights... </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
she slept on this disgusting mattress and had her own piles of study materials. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
of course the child had not migrated her crap onto the mattress until the bff had vacated. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
still there were movable piles of paper, books, and other unknown substances. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i cannot even begin to think of why there are occasional spider or bug bites on the kid. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
she has been asked to clean this room unnumbered times. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
the thrill of dusting and vacuuming is not one i hold dear, however i do feel it needs to be done every decade or so. if the kid would move some of her crap out of the way, i would do this. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i have done it for her siblings before her. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i also would like to say that she is an enigma wrapped up in a convoluted pretty girl package with some deeply seated guy stuff in the mix. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
she belches so loudly, that she has stopped football practice at her school as she has passed the team midway through daily practices. the team members were penalized by the coach for not doing what drill he was barking out one day. the team thought he had said something, which they couldn't understand. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
it disrupted the flow of the exercise. t</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
just the girl </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
belching. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
true story. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
never ending, but still true. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i could not be prouder. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i know others have lovely children. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
they enjoy sitting at meals on occasions with their families. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i know that some husbands come home and do not groan as they cross the threshold and wonder what happened all day in their absence. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i know all of this. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
still i think that my people somehow think i am a magician. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
if i poof hard enough, their fantasy or expectation will become real. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
a home smelling like snickerdoodles or hermits </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and clean as can be. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
with fresh linens everywhere they ought to be, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
a home with furnishings that looks like a page from architectural digest or something. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(that magazine sucks by the way).</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
it would all be completely doable, if only a few of the folks here were exactly what they thought they were. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
a lot wealthier. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">it could happen, </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
just if i could hire an actual carpenter to show up and replace my fucking air-sucking, wind tunnel in the kitchen, double-hung sashes that let out all the heat on the east side of my house. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
yep. nothing gets done here. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and it is because i think in my real life i am a princess. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
what i really am is a bad mom. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i just don't care to wear myself out anymore with this crap. i would rather make stuff like this. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
a pair of funky floral cuffs from old belts i snagged one of them at the local thrift store. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i made the top cuff from my son's belt and i am keeping it for myself. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
or this version of the red and purple one</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy1XEzE_PQOBxVja2RtwMGjxrCGEtbL-VIEkdh-VPmW3BHzxvoM5YJNqiak2mfBVtoyxRJsvWjgLd0rAOgH7KTfNaaxYRohZeWcOCOMTd5Mzf2f_sVSdfw3n5VyAVrLZA3hkzAhV1NXqkV/s1600/B1+cuff+reds.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy1XEzE_PQOBxVja2RtwMGjxrCGEtbL-VIEkdh-VPmW3BHzxvoM5YJNqiak2mfBVtoyxRJsvWjgLd0rAOgH7KTfNaaxYRohZeWcOCOMTd5Mzf2f_sVSdfw3n5VyAVrLZA3hkzAhV1NXqkV/s320/B1+cuff+reds.JPG" width="319" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
or a bracelet/necklace</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8z_L0J4BPcCob47OQETaHMBLK_7LjmvD77crvc8ETW8F5XinUKPh03sDxpOBMtanrsBJiepvG12-hJKHwbhfLSy2z2rBRs19uL1l2O35JlvbbJlKlBVWx4Y9jSYDBKEF_znh89nOMTHSH/s1600/C1.red+twice+charmed.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8z_L0J4BPcCob47OQETaHMBLK_7LjmvD77crvc8ETW8F5XinUKPh03sDxpOBMtanrsBJiepvG12-hJKHwbhfLSy2z2rBRs19uL1l2O35JlvbbJlKlBVWx4Y9jSYDBKEF_znh89nOMTHSH/s320/C1.red+twice+charmed.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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or a few flowery charm bracelets</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTXxVU8Sxfctic-wIKDKNMPNtxw3LSemZXHcAOBHxjtoDnyIYHgfQYhwi3xbVETXToe4O_RjIURevQJN_FFeFoTgoQZhh9dWP8m95gCIaYl4kCnb693K98F7lF5zXkaVHryzo8B5qNY81G/s1600/A1+charm+.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="252" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTXxVU8Sxfctic-wIKDKNMPNtxw3LSemZXHcAOBHxjtoDnyIYHgfQYhwi3xbVETXToe4O_RjIURevQJN_FFeFoTgoQZhh9dWP8m95gCIaYl4kCnb693K98F7lF5zXkaVHryzo8B5qNY81G/s320/A1+charm+.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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or this tray of rings.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUkm7o3dH1MRRqHUGk0h7zqE2y0wraSRlT_7JtY2QUYzRswEhjSNBBzUAvJUgjBeuWvuNyh6Nh8HL0ifhP62MJLxgE8Dv9F9q9VSuTSve-kH1y12zuDkNW6-Hs_IZYP6ErChfd5RjFY6ji/s1600/A1+flaunt+rings+.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUkm7o3dH1MRRqHUGk0h7zqE2y0wraSRlT_7JtY2QUYzRswEhjSNBBzUAvJUgjBeuWvuNyh6Nh8HL0ifhP62MJLxgE8Dv9F9q9VSuTSve-kH1y12zuDkNW6-Hs_IZYP6ErChfd5RjFY6ji/s320/A1+flaunt+rings+.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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or </div>
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my bed to sleep in. </div>
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well nobody is perfect. </div>
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i am going to sleep soon and consider who i really am in my other world. </div>
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tomorrow is day two of mid-terms and that much closer to cleanliness in part of this house</div>
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(i am not holding my breath here, you know?)</div>
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and the dog will continue to think he is a poodly prince, </div>
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the husband will continue to think he is a king, </div>
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and the teen gal will continue to think she is in college. </div>
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perhaps my son will begin to realize that he IS in college and </div>
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my oldest who is working and being paid for something she loves, will continue to be the only grounded one around here. </div>
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like i said. </div>
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i can dream right?</div>
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g'night all. </div>
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<span style="color: #76a5af; font-size: large;">xo.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;">w.</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7653737454144156586.post-2705859952184935232013-01-22T02:38:00.005-05:002013-01-22T02:40:08.137-05:00late nights upside down<div style="text-align: center;">
i only really know two jokes. telling either of them makes me terribly self conscious. it may be because they both are making fun of populations of people that i easily could be part of, but for one reason or another i am currently not. so as my way of attempting to be politically correct, i will apologize up in front. i am sorry. truly, i know it is an american thing this silly little joke. and it is not the kindest of things to pose as questions. it has a corollary in my insular little world.</div>
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here goes...</div>
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<span style="color: #351c75;">question:</span></div>
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<span style="color: #351c75;">what is the difference between a tornado and a divorce in the south? </span></div>
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<span style="color: #351c75;"> </span><span style="color: red;">answer: </span></div>
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<span style="color: red;">not much, either way someone loses a trailer home. </span></div>
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so why did i go out of my way to ask such a silly thing?</div>
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well, i have a little trouble fitting in with the rest of my world. i don't sleep regular hours and sometimes i am completely upside down on those. right now, my australian period is in play. the one where i fall asleep as the sun is rising and awaken just before the phone call from my high schooler comes asking where her ride home is. </div>
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i really hate that phone call. </div>
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it embarrasses me... as does all of these weird hours of wakefulness and sleep do. </div>
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of course, my doctor and i have spoken about it and she seems to feel it is fine if it affords me time to be productive and comfortable enough in daily stuff that i feel needs doing. </div>
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so this has been going on in some form or another most of my life. i am happy at night. late at night. when there are few other folks out there in the world enjoying productive lives. </div>
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if i were prone to calling it something that others could understand, it would be that its the third shift. </div>
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luckily, with the internet and other entertainment, i am never really alone during these hours. </div>
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i have a sweet friend i chat with on a pretty regular basis, and she is from australia. </div>
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her world is exactly 12 hours off from my own. </div>
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well i mean i know what part of her conventionally experienced day we can chat and overlap with activities of child rearing, jewelry findings and grocery shopping. i really enjoy our time together such as it is. </div>
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why did i tell you the silly joke? </div>
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well it is because often i try to re-set my internal clock to coincide with my family members' biological wavelengths for more harmonious living. it is not easy. having had the flu the last couple of weeks, i was tired out beyond reason and did little more than change the tv channel or sleep. so my own habits reverted to this upside down schedule. i am back to trying to get into a more daylight driven experience, but it is not always easy. no matter what time of day or night i put myself into my sleep coma, i am pretty sure my darling dog is going to wake me up between 1:30 and 3:30 a.m..</div>
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it is inconvenient at worst. but it does happen. nearly every night. sometimes he just glares at me out of his pretty brown eyes as if to say, why can't you turn out the lights? i am trying to nap here. so i have to try to be kind about our stealthy sorties in the darker hours to do a quick neighborhood check and piddle. i check, he piddles. </div>
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he is likely to do this in the middle of the night as a long standing habit, since when we brought him home to live with us, he was not yet housebroken. i am enough of a hippie, that crating him to teach him when he could go outside seemed sort of inefficient and cruel. instead, i spent a lot of hours when it was dark outside, out in my back yard with him. he was housebroken in just a few days. my family took credit for this in their usual way, not having had much to do with this process. it wasn't a terrible hardship on me, since the 4th Harry Potter book, <u>The Goblet of Fire</u> had just been released. i needed to read it to keep abreast of my daughter's progress with consuming it. also, you literally can read by the light of the street lamps in my neighborhood. </div>
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after all is said and done, it works out for everyone, in spite of my quirkiness. this family has NO shortage of quirks in each member. so i am just gonna have to keep rolling with the needs that are expressed regarding late hours and when the puppster wants out. </div>
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this is why i do it. </div>
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he is adorable and my buddy. </div>
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in spite of what the kids say. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVY4eqrIMOrUlc5T3SOHWN4qOoU4Wqzdcp_OQmdYuTQYQU39Q-yyBQuTwuzXgBHCF9zzojiIMINySVagZ6BAm4w-c3ouBUl4WRgKPzRuMsZWTdfXWDacbGR3D_46Id3xycOhwwLdAwCtbq/s1600/curly+boy+4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVY4eqrIMOrUlc5T3SOHWN4qOoU4Wqzdcp_OQmdYuTQYQU39Q-yyBQuTwuzXgBHCF9zzojiIMINySVagZ6BAm4w-c3ouBUl4WRgKPzRuMsZWTdfXWDacbGR3D_46Id3xycOhwwLdAwCtbq/s320/curly+boy+4.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm7giHUQwygV9fkuWJFWG7xCjBPRXLHZ9YKWryb1QiCci5xm2CZu2Ij78cXqfGgY3YeFpTEc_B6E9BnYmyoXcYzqG6QpBZq20roHTRJV1X_dct_TF1sA8cqNfPxNVYA7XlYMqeDRuj7qhx/s1600/jossie+looking+proud+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm7giHUQwygV9fkuWJFWG7xCjBPRXLHZ9YKWryb1QiCci5xm2CZu2Ij78cXqfGgY3YeFpTEc_B6E9BnYmyoXcYzqG6QpBZq20roHTRJV1X_dct_TF1sA8cqNfPxNVYA7XlYMqeDRuj7qhx/s320/jossie+looking+proud+2.JPG" width="319" /></a></div>
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he is a good companion and scares the snot out of anyone unwanted on our front steps. </div>
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two perfect reasons to have any dog ever. </div>
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for the most part, he is delicate and misses all of my clutter, i mean my work areas, like he is picking his way through a mine field. only when his tail feathers are too long and he is excitedly wagging, do things go out of place. they can get caught in the mix and get relocated across the room. i can deal with that though. </div>
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here is what he is able to move around without missing a step. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzzybHUU4Y-rX7qD41eDW5Utq4JaWVFOTYTfcLw1G3ZnNJmWdNPSn4C_NP10AhU2h5ZtZGdhOL4go94fLc-LcNk3xJZuO_dftx4ZA6hG1cv7G1Ef95DSrF067uO-c5rF-0ipO25he8pM70/s1600/working+tray+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzzybHUU4Y-rX7qD41eDW5Utq4JaWVFOTYTfcLw1G3ZnNJmWdNPSn4C_NP10AhU2h5ZtZGdhOL4go94fLc-LcNk3xJZuO_dftx4ZA6hG1cv7G1Ef95DSrF067uO-c5rF-0ipO25he8pM70/s320/working+tray+2.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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i have trays like this all around the living room... with projects in some phase or another. things rarely go amiss unless i am involved. that is of course a much different story and one of terror for sharing around a campfire some night. </div>
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so i am going to give this ole weird sleep thing another go ... since the pup has had his 2 am constitutional in the snows of new england. i need to rest up, because my daughter's school has set their clocks during mid-terms for a two hour delay of the start of school. the premise was that it would be risky with the amount of snow predicted by morning. it has started and stopped. the accumulation is about an inch, maybe two inches. last week we had significantly more and there was no kind of acknowledgement of any commuting/traffic inconveniences. </div>
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so in their mighty foresightedness, the school dept. has not only delayed the start of school for two hours, but also the exam schedule for another day. </div>
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my daughter is much like water... always finding a way into any crevice. she interprets these events as an opportunity to stay home from school to study. </div>
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this looks a lot like something else when she does it. one hand on her iphone, one on my computer, some chocolate snack on her lap and gossip girls in the background of either the tv or the computer. </div>
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while she studies. </div>
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yeah. </div>
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right. </div>
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i am best off not watching this, because somehow it becomes my problem. </div>
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her feeling is that since i use the computer while watching t.v., she ought to be allowed to as well. </div>
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this is not a good syllogism. </div>
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she lives dangerously. very dangerously. </div>
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i am often editing photos, surfing the wily outpost of facebook, or even in a pinterest fugue state. </div>
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i am not writing critical essays that will be evaluated by some of the most casually insane teachers of this century. i have met them and they really are so very deeply perplexing, frustrating and troubling, i find anything other than the best imaginable focus to contend with an outcome of any interchange with any of them is a scary thing. it requires consistency and deep attention. </div>
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none of which, if i were in her place, i could attempt in this age. </div>
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it was harder when i was in school, as the internet was probably a fantasy of the then 8 year old Al Gore. not the functional life blood of every red-blooded american teen these days. </div>
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you know who they are... the ones that say in very condescending tones,</div>
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"mom, it is intuitive. why don't you get this?"</div>
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shut. up. you . little. shits. </div>
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i can reupholster a sofa, make a roux, and still answer 2/3 of the jeopardy questions while offering directions to get somewhere by car on one ways streets. pretty much all at the same time and you still do not know how to load a dishwasher or that women have TWO ovaries. </div>
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i keep my temper in check as often as possible. </div>
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and sleep to offset the deficits that conditions like these offer daily. </div>
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and when i snag that few moments of light that will be coming my way in a few more hours, i will photograph the fleet of rings and bracelets i made last night. </div>
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cheers! mates... see y'all soon i hope. </div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: large;">xo.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #e06666; font-size: large;">w.</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7653737454144156586.post-89416532016107928152013-01-20T04:23:00.003-05:002013-01-20T21:13:15.728-05:00domestic skirmishes... aka life amongst my savages<div style="text-align: center;">
mrs. hilary clinton has the same job as president thomas jefferson had. not the main one that she really vied for, but almost a more important one. she held it and performed the hell out of it with great diplomatic skill as well as effectiveness. she did this until a concussion intervened. oh that and a horrible tragedy putting all of her amazing work under a microscope. the horrible, fatal and somehow unstoppable embassy attacks of 2012. </div>
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i would have gladly voted for her as a presidential candidate, if she had made it as far as to hold that spot on the election ballot. i am of course thrilled that mr. obama threw his hat into the ring and became our president not just one time, but on the edge of his second term. i say all of this in mind of the horrible breaking down of reason and sanity all over the world. especially as a footnote to hopefully the last acts of random violence that occur specifically upon domestic soils. i want never to live through any other atrocities such as the Sandy Hook murders, the outbreak of wrong doing towards Batman lovers in Colorado, or the plethora of other horrible activities that are war-like in all of their aggressive and unkind results everywhere. </div>
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at heart i am a pacifist. a Quaker almost even. perhaps even for lack of a better description, a teensy variation of a peace-loving hippie from the sixties. it may simply be the case of not wanting to experience any more unkindness of one human towards any other. i survived sibling rivalry, so i keep thinking does it need to keep on going at any scale or level. it is just a wheel spinning activity if you really look it in the eye. </div>
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this having been said, and not said to be dramatic or trivialize the "troubles" flowing throughout the world around me, i am in the land of domestic unrest. the violence of the world is growing generally. man is a bellicose animal, without the means to resolve his issues without bloodshed. i remain suspicious that it is safe out there while all this ire is rubbing against itself to create some spark and a bigger, more pronounced bloody result. i just do not understand any of it. </div>
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what i also do not get is the ongoing war that exists within my own small part of the world. i refer to the oddities of household passive aggression. the inexplicable itchiness inside my little red home.</div>
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i have so little understanding of why it is in fully blown expression here. really, i just don't get it. </div>
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i gave up what could have been a seriously mediocre pastime or as others refer to it, a career as an architect. i studied years to complete the undergraduate level of college training to do this. it took me six whole years on top of an already well recognized B.Arts from a well viewed college before that. i studied at night, while i held a full time job during days to aid in my training. i even went so far as to take an exam which puts the C.P.A. exam in its place like the whiny little bitch it really is. i worked and worked as a nanny, bartender, knitting salesperson and garment finisher to support myself as i attempted to achieve this basic level of training and a legal right to wield a rubber stamp with my professional license number upon it. in this, i find myself twenty-odd years later in a place where passive aggression is the mode, not any passing form of professionalism or peace. i am losing the conflicts daily. </div>
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these losses are very minute. sometimes i see how they add up. like a single drop of water can be additive to more and collect into a small trickle. then form a watery force large enough to cut a magnificent swath through some stone and call itself a Grand Canyon. the small notches of activity that run through my psyche are teensy. normal people are not bothered by them. it is not that i am decidedly abnormal, i just have my ways. i do not enjoy my ways being disregarded or simply ignored. i am a person and would enjoy some respect. a little logic and love thrown into the mix would serve my interests well also. </div>
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here is one of the skirmishes. i like socks. i like when i wear them, that i have them match. they wear better that way. i like when i have matching elastic rings on my legs and bilateral similarity of pressure applied for better circulation to my limbs. it is possible i missed the memo that said socks are sold as redundant one-offs. not that they are paired to suit your bipedal design. i am frustrated by the fact that i have a sock eating monster living in my washer or dryer. it is hungry enough in its hidden placement, that it prefers only one half of my paired foot-warming hose. it is perplexing, yet i feel bonded to many, many others in the world. there are dryer or wind+laundry line locations world-wide that experience the mysteries of sock loss. it is not anything anyone can pinpoint the origins of, because if they could there would be a NOBEL prize awarded for its discovery. </div>
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i had the flu the past two weeks. going to the basement was a profoundly energy sucking experience i avoided. it took more effort than to switch sleeping positions or change the tv channels. so i was more lax than usual about it. </div>
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eventually, there were no children at home to do some of my laziness or health initiated favors. i had to go myself to ferret out some socks to warm my oddly mismatching cold feet. the level of poor circulation to my feet is causing me great worry. any educated person living and fighting with diabetes is on this page along side of me. nobody wants to lose any part of their body, especially a toe or a foot. so keeping that circulation going well is a very important part of daily maintenance. </div>
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i have been horrified to see that doing the laundry for my husband is a beloved part of his household task participation. he likes to say, he does the family laundry. i know he does. it is a white lie though. he does it really poorly, just so he doesn't have to think too hard about it. surely my whining has covered this content before? if not, that is for another day. my most recent and deeply unexpected discovery was that the same trash bin that corrals the lint from the dryer, random washed papers in a post laundered papier mache state, soap bottle caps etc. also contains my socks. </div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">what the hell?</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
this is a fresh page in the war of passive aggression that i need to investigate. already the skirmishes are being lost. i keep buying new pretty striped and dotted, wildly colorful socks to entertain my feet with. they are being tossed into that bin willy-nilly in solitude. rendering brand new sock pairings useless one mate at a time. </div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
WHY???????????????</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
what did my poor six pack of Betsy Johnson orange and pink roses ever do to you?</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
why are my recently accepted ankle high stripey numbers turned away at the pairing station?</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
who would be offended by turquoise and kelly green ankle high socks with a cute picot edging?</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
who is responsible for this act of unkindness;</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
a domestic war?</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
is it a counter-attack against the solution to subtle doctrines on the color-free greigeness of the system? </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i am appalled. i want my feet to be cozy and remain at the other end of my body. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i want them til i get done for, permanently. </div>
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why is this a reasonable act?</div>
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</div>
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i am sad that i am living through a fresh take on dealing with domesticity. the last invigorating strike against my sanity was the unnecessary roughness call of eating all the store-bought pie and leaving the eating utensil in the entrails of the packaging of a small, sweet fruit whispered through bakery item.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(according to my grocery tape). </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
left on the stove in all of its empty glory with a knife inside the box. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
pretense of future dispensing pie pan in a rinsed condition to the overflowing recycling is not even a whisper of possibility. </div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
the what's up of the innocent...</div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
and the deniability of the guilty party </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO6wWb__MMh5v-pjmPHX4c3FypyH0wXtKuxiPwLxJKsK6SnNT5KHkHIxN79KGP1vP2aDaBR5sr9FMEqxo2lPk866tODfnzFFij993vfgA6wmyPJ5wgEVkvWOhlzdUwaJojkqFnvGS6RMSh/s1600/guilty+party+for+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO6wWb__MMh5v-pjmPHX4c3FypyH0wXtKuxiPwLxJKsK6SnNT5KHkHIxN79KGP1vP2aDaBR5sr9FMEqxo2lPk866tODfnzFFij993vfgA6wmyPJ5wgEVkvWOhlzdUwaJojkqFnvGS6RMSh/s320/guilty+party+for+1.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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this war is only one. </div>
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it wears me down daily, in all of its myriad of presentations. </div>
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i find myself looking towards running away someday. </div>
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hobo-stick and bandana filled to its edges with jewels leaking from its corners. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i can see it in my future. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
in my ultimate cessation of fighting a good fight. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
of letting go of the dream. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
the dream of two matching socks... and a fully cut pie. one without the telltale marks of many fork tines pricked directly into the pie pan without formality and diplomacy of a sliced wedge portion. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
the civility of it all is gone. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
dentente is a poof of smoke. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
gone. gone. gone. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
adieu. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
with mixed socks and bruised feelings, i offer these visual bon-mots. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
re-tweaked bracelets for a client. one who has unwittingly and patiently been waiting for me to deliver some goods. some bracelets, charmed and uncharmed styles; </div>
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some leather cuffed ones, </div>
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and some rings. </div>
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just some items to flaunt in their boutique or at their place at "Styleweek RI".</div>
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the flu kept my productivity down to the barest level manageable. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
one that was interwoven with mysterious sock related losses. </div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">charm bracelets</span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">necklaces & bracelet interchangables</span><br />
<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">(rolled into 3 turns)</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH5CnrDj4J1btrQx53m1n6hec-XyXvmp6hrjR37sqtOdvVmP6wWooJZdCNXNALR68-lmQz3IPJgkVtxSRbcd56gOLaghFRqSqj1Ggynpw09Q2j6NHeAa0WSRpjecXnL8wjcZGVBoB1ooyi/s1600/B2.red+twice+charmed.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH5CnrDj4J1btrQx53m1n6hec-XyXvmp6hrjR37sqtOdvVmP6wWooJZdCNXNALR68-lmQz3IPJgkVtxSRbcd56gOLaghFRqSqj1Ggynpw09Q2j6NHeAa0WSRpjecXnL8wjcZGVBoB1ooyi/s320/B2.red+twice+charmed.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">laid out for a necklace application</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_uxkTE6nzJiMdgDmeD9YBXGQLaY7dLMDs6FBDcVx_dTzQpWBSLXdAg992GB4UJ9p6x_rO4ZmqmjbmV1DQ-zy53JPH_frV1R-MdHaUcmVUkGa77HQbn_elTsPK4Bt7MH4yguMGdn_4bFrd/s1600/B3.red+twice+charmed.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_uxkTE6nzJiMdgDmeD9YBXGQLaY7dLMDs6FBDcVx_dTzQpWBSLXdAg992GB4UJ9p6x_rO4ZmqmjbmV1DQ-zy53JPH_frV1R-MdHaUcmVUkGa77HQbn_elTsPK4Bt7MH4yguMGdn_4bFrd/s320/B3.red+twice+charmed.JPG" width="233" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">there are other items, but they await my resurfaced effort from the sleepy cryp</span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">t. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">my interest in surviving another day of single sock to foot interfacing needs to be made a passing fancy. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">it is all a silly undesired game. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i am bigger than this and a lot nicer<br />
than to fret about it all on most days. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
perhaps i can rely on some rodman-clintonesque diplomacy to achieve domestic detente soon?</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
it may be worth the effort. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
my feet are still a smidge colder than i like them to be. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">xoxo. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">w.</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7653737454144156586.post-70067621577213617642013-01-15T01:56:00.002-05:002013-01-15T01:56:43.745-05:00flu season: 1 vs. me: zero. flu season is here. early and surly.<br />
i have been under it's pall for days.<br />
so many days already. almost a week's worth of fever on and off. i have not enjoyed any of it.<br />
it does allow me the luxury of drinking in the flavor of nyquil if sleep is elusive. it is probably my favorite thing about cold season. of course there is NOTHING i really enjoy about having a cold. somehow having some nyquil to look forward to during that period of discomfort is a big plus.<br />
a really huuuuuge plus. <br />
were i able to resist being drunk all the time, i might consider keeping a bottle of french liquor(pernod) in the house that is used to make pastis cocktails with. oh yeah and some ouzo too. of course, i am a weenie these days and the entire premise of dealing with the sugars in those alcohols and the inevitable head aching results any next day, tempers my interest in regular indulgences.<br />
<br />
somewhere in the midst of my flu season, my son had some college stuff to deal with. this is so he can remain in his major course of study. i am beyond peeved with him. i think he had a secret decoder ring in use when he filled out his college applications. the subtle text hidden in the common application must have said, "if you want to blow off studying and be a total gomer, here's where to go to do it. only a few immature nitwits can read this and have the cereal box based jewelry to find it with. exclusivity is a big selling point i think.<br />
seriously, i am really totally pissed. so if you see him, ask him to hand over that ring and let him know he is only fooling himself... what. a. dumb. ass.<br />
<br />
and the big girl is kicking butt at her new job. i love it. she continues to evolve nicely.<br />
if only her roommates in their entries into colorful and home cooking would lay off the onions.<br />
they seem to like to saute onions all the time in their little suite. for the onion defective gene-pool, you must look to me. poor halley has inherited that dismay over an excessive use of onions. mea culpa.<br />
i think when you are starting to learn to cook and are figuring out what tastes go together, style can be simply too heavy handed... and let's face the obvious. onions pack a wallop of taste and a wallop of flavor in a pretty small package. inexpensively too, which suits a college student's grocery bill and tummy simultaneously and nicely. well most of the college based eaters. just not my progeny.<br />
<br />
as the flu has had its indelible grip on me over this week... i have been relying on facebook too much for my entertainment. that and netflix. so now i am going through british mystery series for a second time. i know, a new hobby should be coming soon. i am getting a tad bored with my interests. also i am not all that excited about a lot of FB postings. then again, i would be somewhere tropical if i could be right now... i should not be so cranky about my pals getting to go away for a break in the winter's back.<br />
<br />
pinterest is a rabbit hole that i find myself easily falling into. no surprises there. what is kind of cool, is i am enjoying looking at some blogs i forget to check more regularly. i do enjoy the jewelry related ones as well as those dedicated to home style and repurposing junk. one of my go-to faves this week has been about all sorts of nutty embellishers and techniques relative to jewelry making.<br />
<a href="http://fancifuldevices.blogspot.com/">http://fancifuldevices.blogspot.com/</a><br />
the artist who writes it is full of vigor and experimentation and colorful commentary. i love it. it really shows how much grunge and great materials all worked in ways that one might not expect. the results are gobsmackingly pretty and rich and funky with a capital "F". also they are refreshingly original. a very nice thing these days.<br />
<br />
so anyways. there were a few other things to be done while i was in the funk mode. slowly, they have been getting finished. perhaps i will take some clever photos tomorrow in the light of day.<br />
a few charm bracelets, floral on leather cuffs, flower rings and other funsies. i need to finish this group to mail out manana. i am in between naps all the time and they are a lot of what i see when my eyeballs are propped open.<br />
<br />
<br />
anywho, my world is weird and it is time for yet another nap... aka bed for the night.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
later sweet potaters. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">xxoo. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">w.</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7653737454144156586.post-40818273794876681752013-01-09T01:23:00.004-05:002013-01-09T01:23:34.771-05:00adjustments.there are many things in any marriage that can keep it or break it. one of the keepers in my own is that as annoying as i find my husband, he still makes me laugh.<br />
the annoying stuff is the crap like telling me something important before he goes to sleep or walks out the door to get somewhere important. i never have time to respond except as a shot from the hip. of course, he also leaves saltine crumbs in the peanut butter and only eats the center stalks of a head of celery so the ones peeled from the outside are wasted often. still we start and stop pretty much in the same place. he is a nice fellow ordinarily... but i have trouble adjusting to some stuff.<br />
<br />
the other day, he said as he went to bed, that our son is interested in staying at his college over the summer. this is purportedly so he can work more months of the off college season. now i freaked out.<br />
and as it would happen, my husband thought that i was nuts. my problem is in the timing of these little game changers that require conversations. he had been mulling it over since the early morning hours.<br />
he also buys cars and trucks without discussions or participating input from me. i get it. he does not want me to sway his thoughts. evidently, i am the game changer more often than not. i have more info on the subject to make an educated response to things. the only real difference in this ability to get more info, is that i ask a lot of questions. i probe. i posit different ideas and scenarios. i want to have as much info to make a reasonable stand that i can live with forever. i kind of do most things this way. once i have decided, i pretty much don't change my mind. UNLESS more info makes for a better solution.<br />
my wheels rarely stop the grinding process. it is not as if i am intractable... i just want to settle into something i can live with. i really dislike living with regret.<br />
<br />
so the boy wants to live in maine this summer. i was kind of het up about this. and then i had my epiphany. ok, i rationalized it. when i went to college, i went to school a semester later than my peers. this was awful and it was really hard. i just wanted to go to a really nice school far enough away from home to make a difference. my family life had been so chaotic and full of crap up til then, that it seemed a safe and enjoyable solution. i came home from college for exactly two summers after that. it was as awful as i remembered it to be and i was always a rather independent critter. so graham will be on the cusp of being 20 yrs. old. i have NO idea why i am mentally keeping him at home with us. he is a total know-it-all and yet he knows so little. i have done my very best up til now and it was in my own opinion, pretty good. i only have my own experiences to rely on. so it is clearly all relative... (no pun intended).<br />
i think he can be fine on his own, yet there has been so much expectation that i am bound to balk, that neither the ole dh nor my son wants to discuss it with me.<br />
i might add that it is harder than usual to do, since i have a horrid case of laryngitis.<br />
<br />
now this is along with my daughter working on her first co-op... timing-wise. she is traveling back and forth from Boston to New York City. she is so unbelievably happy with this new turn of events. most of her work will be accomplished in boston as she lives with her suite-mates and roommate. as things go, her partnered co-worker also hired through a series of interviews by the same people, is also her actual roommate. killer huh? so funny. she also has been working in food service for almost 2 yrs. at the same place. she has transferred back and forth from the providence and boston stores each time she needed to change her living/school placement. i am unsure if she is coming home this summer to live here with us again. just when i almost got her to being a real live human gal. head smack.<br />
<br />
so like i said, i am not one who rolls with the punches easily enough. i truly wish i could be more willing to let go. it just seems unfair that i do all this heavy lifting for so very long... and now i am saddled with a betta fish. none of the kids i labored over intensely and now i got the stupid hand-me-down fish instead. the one that graham brought home from college and left me with in sept.<br />
how freaky is it that the fish is also named graham? gosh life is just too crazy for me to roll around with right now. maybe in another day i will be 100% confident of these changes.<br />
after graham gets his health insurance instated as a citizen of maine.<br />
and he gets a new driver's license through the state.<br />
so perhaps if he gets his shit together i may be more relaxed.<br />
<br />
as for the stuff that i am truly excited about, i have some fresh ideas for my 'new' line of jewels. not that it is totally "brand freaking new" but it is stuff that is changing as my own interests evolve. i plan on several new approaches and styles... but i also have been making some nice new statement necklaces. <br />
it has been a really nice respite from what i was doing just before the holidays... since i was on a small hamster wheel those days. making things i KNEW should sell. now i am honing those items into seasonally appropriate palettes and styles.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">bright resolve</span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">sentiments for kasey</span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">spring fields</span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">istanbul</span></div>
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granted, they may seem a little formulaic, but i had a great time putting them together. it is so much of what i would make more time to do before the holidays hit the fan. now i am going to keep making stuff like these as my new year's resolution.<br />
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anyways, thought i would babble on a smidge. i needed to get some stuff out of my head.<br />
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;">xxoo. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: large;">w. </span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7653737454144156586.post-85580718415934857042013-01-02T22:55:00.000-05:002014-01-02T00:15:21.849-05:00happy new twentythirteeni am almost resurfaced.<br />
after months of participating in at least one crafty style show over each weekend since last june, the toll of it all has taken me apart. i have not been as tired for a long time. of course, the result of the movable store experience is that i had a chance to fill some custom styled requests and fill in some etsy store sales as well as sleeping a lot. there was the big cahuna of time use... called the children returning home from college. as an embellishment, there was as well as shopping for gifts or schlepping the kids around to make some holiday gift giving purchasing (as well as support it financially). surprisingly, i have managed to snag some cool stuff in brief sorties from my tables at shows. very interesting and handmade finds from these events, along with the actuality of cash in my pockets, allowed me to make impulse purchases for my kids, husband and friends. this whole experience allowed for the lessening of stressed out buying at my end.<br />
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as for the holidays themselves, they were delightful. thanksgiving was remarkably low key. it featured the annual kennel show which my kids and i adore. the dog is completely non-plussed by it all, but appreciates the opportunity to get special treatment in the way of oven roasted sweet potato chunks. the rest of us ate madly and enjoyed our meals... i think that they stretched for hours. just as soon as one of us finished a little something, another plate was pulled out to capitalize on another item emerging from the fridge or the oven. i will say, that having a ham instead of turkey is a huge and delightful stress-buster. no long tending of a turkey and all that entails is nice to skip.<br />
my fave part of the meal, was a homemade apple pie , still warm from the oven, with melty vanilla ice cream melding into its slices of plump apples and the creamy yet flakiness of a handmade buttery crust.<br />
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as for hannukah, boxing day and kwanzaa, they kind of took a back seat to some of the more time consuming two day holiday shows. christmas was a lot less crazy this year than past ones. husband had some stomach bug. he was tucked away in his bed so he could get well soon. that and hugging the toilet to keep the flu he had, somewhat contained, kept him segregated from the family.<br />
it was nice and peaceful, in spite of his absence in the fray. later that week, the boy got sick and hubby did his big gifty unwrap... it seemed balanced in the level of inevitable craziness.<br />
<br />
now we are in the midst of the eldest's first internship. it is a real first job. not the ad hoc ones that she has been doing to keep that tuition money coming in... and her ridiculously long tenure at Au Bon Pain... as she blithely calls ABP. she headed out to NYC to her first job as a digital artist. Luckily her roommate and friend Jen was also starting along on that journey aside of her. the inevitability of start-up nerves and a need for fresh office-worthy clothes has also been dealt with as delicately as is possible during this period in spite of being fraught with seasonal excitability. i am really so proud of the girl. she has more gumption at her age, than i think i had at twice her age. it is truly as neat to witness as the miracle of when reading happened for the first time. i am thrilled she and all three of her roommates who are all beginning their own internships simultaneously, are able to keep their rooming situation intact also. so there will be some shuffling back and forth between Boston and New York City... but if they keep their heads about them, this will add nothing but a sense of accomplishment and maturity to their skill sets.<br />
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as for the others here, things after the vomiting and gift buying... (not at the same time) have passed, it is all sorts of relatively normal. i do not underestimate that delightful peace that may settle upon us as a cozy blanket. thank heavens.<br />
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now i am trying to figure out what my own new year promises. the need to start planning for the upcoming year is raising its head. blech is all i can say. how do i balance what shows to do with how much they may cost? how do i decide on which ones were actually profitable enough or just barely vs. how much they cost to do? how do i integrate in the price of hotel time, foods support and other items against everything else about the shows?<br />
this is all in contrast to the wholesale orders that my rep brought my way last year. i tried wholesaling at a variety of stores... some of this entire process. it was a very difficult year to predict. work came and went. orders came in droves and were non-existent. i had a gamut of relationship experiences with my rep as well as store owners. let's just say, the whole learning curve for the process was a huge straight line upward. it was harder to keep organized than i would have thought.<br />
as for earning money in a regular manner, it was really nice. i enjoyed that. however, the ability to predict when and how much might be available dependent upon my work, was erratic as heck. it is hard to live a life without steady income... to pay for groceries, orthodonture bills, and all else needed to keep things on track.<br />
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as many things have changed, i have felt a great amount of personal growth. the need to deal with my own health has also played into the mix. getting my shit together is easier to say than do. just like it is for everyone else... still i am having a time trying to keep myself on track. the alternative is not good. over-indulgence in chocolate, may lead to horrific loss of circulation to my feet, kidney failure or significant heart disease. so it is better than not, to keep my need for sugar in check. in reality, my sugary need is just an addiction and i best keep that in mind. i really still want to do so much more in this life i lead.<br />
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while i am feeling much more happy and satisfied than morose, i have plenty to substantiate how nice and pretty my world has been this year. here are a few flowery highlights of the productivity from my work bench. </div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">mixed beady chain flower necklaces</span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">beady chain flower necklace</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCTnVbP9ddkSxXL4IdhCQ2M7U9yKwBWoGGFwiFULgTLLJEOxIr_PwauaLKGxyLn_w4_wYmjkG8JoxSPxKy89gjGQ1nj-lx0lSM5Z8LuEZGMs7KoJOl7NP2oTQT3HbMa0dBaGR_HZ2JzEjq/s1600/D1+cabriolet.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCTnVbP9ddkSxXL4IdhCQ2M7U9yKwBWoGGFwiFULgTLLJEOxIr_PwauaLKGxyLn_w4_wYmjkG8JoxSPxKy89gjGQ1nj-lx0lSM5Z8LuEZGMs7KoJOl7NP2oTQT3HbMa0dBaGR_HZ2JzEjq/s320/D1+cabriolet.JPG" width="319" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">kasey's necklace</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwqMEN3Eab1y8hFiWLW4CxNCRHMMuoHZX3bnXrWtHwWR1xVm_Bmea9npQGlCmBtowK9XazBjaXAm2VOVZ_SXY1JhvpiolcRMdy4pEQQmfazW4yDH5j7j6W2Wi4ExNMA4WjsjwBS9bwXQ3s/s1600/kasey+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwqMEN3Eab1y8hFiWLW4CxNCRHMMuoHZX3bnXrWtHwWR1xVm_Bmea9npQGlCmBtowK9XazBjaXAm2VOVZ_SXY1JhvpiolcRMdy4pEQQmfazW4yDH5j7j6W2Wi4ExNMA4WjsjwBS9bwXQ3s/s320/kasey+3.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">gemmy bubblemania necklaces</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRjlahpp08ZpPGuOJEcbQZ8UHLGQ9WeyrtT-u2ZKdhtGUvYOcSy56H_qyAxGZyc6eWvmflLCSqjy_FNxEJkx1dPXnjRPm8EiQ7SFTrEj9qeeL8ySpXQCkOvmZMFKgX5gbV_uOWG3Vu753U/s1600/A1.mixed+gems.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="199" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRjlahpp08ZpPGuOJEcbQZ8UHLGQ9WeyrtT-u2ZKdhtGUvYOcSy56H_qyAxGZyc6eWvmflLCSqjy_FNxEJkx1dPXnjRPm8EiQ7SFTrEj9qeeL8ySpXQCkOvmZMFKgX5gbV_uOWG3Vu753U/s320/A1.mixed+gems.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">mixed lockets without chains</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzhkBfoW_fheo6aEhbeFihmV0rCiRCQWpUmh27qW6n0cRH8CDJYghK9o0K66cqSR8U2-Jjt9GV3OAJ-tO-Ity0xAasgs5jka4YrxaXrLzWop-Q2TWJCCBF854vDdanXF9igGvPmYJj9Kzj/s1600/A1.lockets.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzhkBfoW_fheo6aEhbeFihmV0rCiRCQWpUmh27qW6n0cRH8CDJYghK9o0K66cqSR8U2-Jjt9GV3OAJ-tO-Ity0xAasgs5jka4YrxaXrLzWop-Q2TWJCCBF854vDdanXF9igGvPmYJj9Kzj/s320/A1.lockets.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">mixed earrings and pins</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2gf_SKYat4xgaWvnRVPgrtTTSP2_BA_aqBYuCKyOfU1TID7HVhfVK6W6c3JyG9ADG2_ku2d-tTIzc2ZqoYsteDHJjh0896F7hbXpVQbqmvcEg_009gvGPjNSqGYpeLyRqa2oihJic_k0Q/s1600/A2.all+togetherness.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="207" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2gf_SKYat4xgaWvnRVPgrtTTSP2_BA_aqBYuCKyOfU1TID7HVhfVK6W6c3JyG9ADG2_ku2d-tTIzc2ZqoYsteDHJjh0896F7hbXpVQbqmvcEg_009gvGPjNSqGYpeLyRqa2oihJic_k0Q/s320/A2.all+togetherness.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">cotswold cuffs</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQM5cORjT5dCnEjOgWyqLxlPEpjEgZjDL7cxOo0IgEYcW6_pZyVkBJaX6aU_BDHTBW0884FrUEQdMycLeQCBxlUlER6yP0NZcuOVJi5bc5Y64Te29KRKGgsD1otbK0EkPqauHnG2mAGOTD/s1600/E2.cotswold+laid+out.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="187" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQM5cORjT5dCnEjOgWyqLxlPEpjEgZjDL7cxOo0IgEYcW6_pZyVkBJaX6aU_BDHTBW0884FrUEQdMycLeQCBxlUlER6yP0NZcuOVJi5bc5Y64Te29KRKGgsD1otbK0EkPqauHnG2mAGOTD/s320/E2.cotswold+laid+out.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">cotswold cuffs in the round</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHGI4wFKMwvddz5jpSAyNXYd-BF7QDcyhLNgCVPqjXgttpUh9s9m01qbPImR2z45Z9N5r1U237yN8aX_g5m2pD6DvDSBc5tu3kTYSuPg3rwqBMxkrBoFts5sQSGTF3M3lcVvR0VB8N7cMi/s1600/E1.cotswold+cuffs.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHGI4wFKMwvddz5jpSAyNXYd-BF7QDcyhLNgCVPqjXgttpUh9s9m01qbPImR2z45Z9N5r1U237yN8aX_g5m2pD6DvDSBc5tu3kTYSuPg3rwqBMxkrBoFts5sQSGTF3M3lcVvR0VB8N7cMi/s320/E1.cotswold+cuffs.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">mixed flowers</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2E7z-556k4MTl3_CpyktSTEVjYky6IUk-VSIE6zXW8A8LvgWRM9_Tn356Jsni4RDZlmTwNZYF2Y4DLl9bpOYDjZdr0CL_Sv9A9Qz78B5nZsqcUNpv6VhnB10uHwDbC0rySyc8UhnN2b7k/s1600/A5+mixed+holiday+pins.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2E7z-556k4MTl3_CpyktSTEVjYky6IUk-VSIE6zXW8A8LvgWRM9_Tn356Jsni4RDZlmTwNZYF2Y4DLl9bpOYDjZdr0CL_Sv9A9Qz78B5nZsqcUNpv6VhnB10uHwDbC0rySyc8UhnN2b7k/s320/A5+mixed+holiday+pins.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">bright resolve, </span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">a statement piece</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9fp9toD4pvfurFJJ00LW28ttglRL6Yu6_59DBqZHA7yqiWFdSAjiWldvx6iJdhWd54a4miN3zX3l5yuEzwFTh3tc_DwPlAF2cmFvgpx-z8dO0Jy5_wpgWe6JsaEfGpbXPQ8VksygWwwip/s1600/BR2+phase+I.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9fp9toD4pvfurFJJ00LW28ttglRL6Yu6_59DBqZHA7yqiWFdSAjiWldvx6iJdhWd54a4miN3zX3l5yuEzwFTh3tc_DwPlAF2cmFvgpx-z8dO0Jy5_wpgWe6JsaEfGpbXPQ8VksygWwwip/s320/BR2+phase+I.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">plumstones</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhped5VEb5dzriFrfjPyfrR9OkV2QgeDaNpMgsKipPUVbW3cYPYQYuBZQPGjPJHUkyrxdMwarp4eiwUUNXdRDKLtXe1sRGJZ1bnhRHAyieCFK0Lq06dYrw22ARP6ZNy5gGLjQN9HzhR_4PG/s1600/E1+big+purple+stones.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhped5VEb5dzriFrfjPyfrR9OkV2QgeDaNpMgsKipPUVbW3cYPYQYuBZQPGjPJHUkyrxdMwarp4eiwUUNXdRDKLtXe1sRGJZ1bnhRHAyieCFK0Lq06dYrw22ARP6ZNy5gGLjQN9HzhR_4PG/s320/E1+big+purple+stones.JPG" width="319" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">seven sisters necklaces</span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">sheri's necklace</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgwHqi_UtilB5fFNRRfboTdtuMnFzO0mbOuOkNERdYKthsHmpBmxutKzff9y8ASp6vPlfGaWx-yrl-4peCRORiTraQUB0DE0JFFSiXbMknmHwz-usqWvIBj4AqWxDLI88zorNIVcJQ_apH/s1600/A+sheri+front.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgwHqi_UtilB5fFNRRfboTdtuMnFzO0mbOuOkNERdYKthsHmpBmxutKzff9y8ASp6vPlfGaWx-yrl-4peCRORiTraQUB0DE0JFFSiXbMknmHwz-usqWvIBj4AqWxDLI88zorNIVcJQ_apH/s320/A+sheri+front.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">lighter fares</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmBghlEeAWjk2uAk1pdx4WKsUCOSzZnraobZuwuGU6Ds3Pbu-0l6mbw8UERHPxnI4xyvtQT73vXyFaXRf2eYhjp-LyKD7nEjX1gD6Im0r8I7zHbex6ZZ01doAFQd5mkcibdqAVgbN-4-Wg/s1600/A2+MIXED+girls.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="143" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmBghlEeAWjk2uAk1pdx4WKsUCOSzZnraobZuwuGU6Ds3Pbu-0l6mbw8UERHPxnI4xyvtQT73vXyFaXRf2eYhjp-LyKD7nEjX1gD6Im0r8I7zHbex6ZZ01doAFQd5mkcibdqAVgbN-4-Wg/s320/A2+MIXED+girls.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">magnolia rose & pearls</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYak6aId60CMUsRzD-1ykm6Wn-Z-JHGlMgo7C7KoW-K8hWsYVe9h4n04WKmhdr94BTmPTvgM253svOcVcZX6-MSvufuIyCxr30ZJyPlVnKk9KpO4Vf9vZrrz3zNKVxnk-oNrSJ-cH9_0yK/s1600/C3+magnolia+rose.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYak6aId60CMUsRzD-1ykm6Wn-Z-JHGlMgo7C7KoW-K8hWsYVe9h4n04WKmhdr94BTmPTvgM253svOcVcZX6-MSvufuIyCxr30ZJyPlVnKk9KpO4Vf9vZrrz3zNKVxnk-oNrSJ-cH9_0yK/s320/C3+magnolia+rose.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">drawer pull necklaces</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimSkZXuuFmQY6AWAuXbSzeRLoH7sKJ6_wGGZDisfST3ekQUEhsfKA1JSIyetVEtifLhZUVlHyr16VFjQPCdBFDanvgtpFgI9Jt8r7JD18UaZav6iwijK2-ZjoXbwEdzrcCPZn7bVR4Btgo/s1600/A1.+drawer+pulls.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="161" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimSkZXuuFmQY6AWAuXbSzeRLoH7sKJ6_wGGZDisfST3ekQUEhsfKA1JSIyetVEtifLhZUVlHyr16VFjQPCdBFDanvgtpFgI9Jt8r7JD18UaZav6iwijK2-ZjoXbwEdzrcCPZn7bVR4Btgo/s320/A1.+drawer+pulls.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">thistle, </span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">a statement</span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">heartful of blossoms</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSR2wHvi99MTymu4tay6FmModW8GAiVty0wRwPzWByr-G6FOxV2CfhWnpTHyqmQBmwyzntxCUtqsiurs0IpsZkY_wd1no6jv2YI1YOhZ_n23vk14jppcuKTdYXtPhnvJzM0H7ZM0GKpOBX/s1600/Pins,+all+tog+A3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="252" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSR2wHvi99MTymu4tay6FmModW8GAiVty0wRwPzWByr-G6FOxV2CfhWnpTHyqmQBmwyzntxCUtqsiurs0IpsZkY_wd1no6jv2YI1YOhZ_n23vk14jppcuKTdYXtPhnvJzM0H7ZM0GKpOBX/s320/Pins,+all+tog+A3.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
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well that is a sampling of what i have been up to over the past couple of months. </div>
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happiest of new years' starts to all of you out there. </div>
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my plan is to try to keep more in sync with real life, real time and blogging as i start the fresh year. </div>
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perhaps that is a resolution that is possible to keep. </div>
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<b><span style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;">xxoo</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: lime; font-size: large;">w. </span></b></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7653737454144156586.post-70128622898593963532012-10-16T13:45:00.002-04:002012-10-16T18:46:03.006-04:00little miss crankypants, the language assessor. i do not know why. i am a bitch. it comes out in many little ways. perhaps it is my uber-sarcastic humor, or maybe it is from being totally self-righteous or maybe it is a result of the nurture vs. nature debate. i do not know... but i am one. i try to be as nice as i possibly can, but no good deed goes unpunished in my world.<br />
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what may have brought this moment of self deprecation forward you may ask? well i spent some time in the glorious early new england autumn sunshine. i was walking with my dog on a running track. he was going all free-willy all over the place. the squirrels out there may have thought they hadn't a chance with him, but they are completely safe with him. he never catches any of them. as a matter of fact, i think it is just some internally hardwired game he has to play. when confronted with an actual stationary grey beastie, he is totally non-plussed. he has nothing to say or do.<br />
i was walking and my dog was leaping and bounding. he was having as nice a time in his own world as i was. we were both enjoying some light hearted yet essential exercise. knowing me even slightly, will suggest this is an event of ginormous proportion and simultaneous with harmonic planetary alignment. i tend to dislike exercise; it's the sweatiness that resultingly happens. i love how i feel after it is done, but then again, that's where that self righteous thing rears its nasty little head.<br />
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as i was moving along the oval i saw some oak trees in the mix. i am a relentless re-purposer and try to smother my crankiness by thinking of others. my friend janice makes awe-inspiring things from felted wool and other fibers in unlikely combinations along with vintage silk saris. now that seems easy enough, but first you need to have all kinds of mad textile skills and then you need to be married to an indian fella with a pipeline to old silks ... it is not as easy as it sounds.<br />
one of janice's side sets of products for sale, is a quick and easy little construction made with felted wool and acorn caps. in my mind, i have been waiting for the perfect time to pluck gabillions of acorn caps from the ground in wooded areas nearby to gift her with. it will allow her to move her festive acorn making factory into overdrive. today seemed a good chance to do some harvesting. i spent a relatively short but fruitful period with my tush in the air, picking up the adorable mini-wooden berets for her assemblages.<br />
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between the joy of running around off-leash and during the season where squirrels take more food hoarding chances with their safety, the dog to got a little jiggy with things. he was so happy, he pooped for the third time. i had run out of clean-up bags, since one had just been allocated to being filled with fresh materials for felted acorns. i left the bag of my collection on the side of the track to pinpoint the mess and walked back to my car to get some more bags for its removal.<br />
in the few moments that this took and the time i took to walk back to where my spot was marked, my plan was dismantled. a man with a chocolate lab in a big harness was taking my bag and his dog over to the trash barrel.<br />
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head slap.<br />
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he was dumping my former place marker and acorn cache into the oil drum trash can. i asked to be sure and he replied that someone left a bag of "shells"and he was cleaning it up. seriously, i did not lose it... but i mentioned that i had in fact been collecting the acorn tops and had left the bag to mark my dog's mess. he said "oh" and as i went to reclaim the bag, he told me his dog had peed all over it anyways.<br />
i let it go, went back to look for the mess in the dried leaves and pine needles. luckily it was easy to find and so was the pile of "shells" the guy had poured out of the pee bag onto the ground nearby.<br />
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since i had fresh bags to recapture the acorns with, i did so. we had a little discussion about what i was doing and why. he offered that there were a lot more caps available "at the front". my head works overtime often enough. i was trying to decide if i wanted to ask, but thought better and figured it was easier to look for other oak trees. since the park and track were oval, there was no clear 'front' to the space. just a couple of more open areas that were along side of it all. hard to say what was a 'front' or a proper entrance. so i just kept my mouth shut.<br />
then the fellow offered the info that there were lots more that were double caps still attached and they were really unique.<br />
here is where my inner language bitch said "MEEEEEOOOOOW!!!"<br />
how can lots of the same thing be unique? especially when it is at the front on an oval?<br />
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it is hard being so sarcastic by nature. and by nurture too. the same woman that carefully tended that growth in me also was the one to tell me she could not abide by my self righteousness. again, head slapping myself here. if not for her and her own stinking forms of cray-cray, i suspect that i wouldn't be imbued with sarcasm, sardonic insight, irony or self righteousness. she made me this way to survive her beastliness and ineptitude in parenting. very limited nurturing occurred. as my my friend janice says, in deference to her own childhood, "she was raised by wolves". often enough, i think i was too. it was another pack though. they had a guilt gene inserted into their dna.<br />
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so my sweet puppy and i enjoyed the weather, the collecting, the ability to curtail snarly comments and were just about to pop into our car to return to home base. an enormously lovely young mother from a tropical island somewhere stopped me to speak. her accent had a lilting accent with british overtones that identified her island origin and open countenance. she had her 18 month old son, a gorgeous confection with her. she asked if my dog was friendly and if her son could pat him. of course they could. i adore trying to get more people and dogs to enjoy each other. it makes my grinch heart swell a little every time.<br />
so the three of us were communing with the dog. another woman pulled up and my dog sashayed the six feet over to greet her. she freaked out and asked if he was going to bite her. seriously, did the small 18 month old boy look in peril of any kind? did the dog rush her? he mosied to be sure. that was all. no growling or barking either. at worst, i figure he would make his presence known by shedding near her.. but that is pretty much it.<br />
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i need regular reminders. it is not me.... it is that it is cranston. cranston, rhode island. and cranston has its own zip code, but needs its own area code as well as country code. there is something that makes people there dumber more often than they need to be. not all people... just more than one might feel is normal.<br />
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so this is what makes me a bitch. rolling all the language and attitudes around in my head. i did not say anything; my aging is allowing me to keep things to myself more. an ability to control my mouth more carefully is helpful in getting by in this world. that and making fresh flowery goodies.<br />
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on that note.... here are a few new things or elements in progress.<br />
earrings. earrings. earrings. i made 29 prs. last night. only need their rhinestones to glam them up and some earwires to make them dangle.<br />
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<span style="text-align: start;"><span style="color: red;">earrings. earrings. earrings.</span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: start;"><span style="color: red;">in progresso</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy2sAib6VoHGgo3blt63QI-inPOguFFd2HXljyHpauQBMpnW8_VCps5ENWobSCwhoGfOL-t3WF3WseJVtFvNa8CdYiXQHEtFhGFnE49lfocqaL255xH5H8KNJ5vEFnebhxaHyxJVYN37C7/s1600/mixed+in+progress.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy2sAib6VoHGgo3blt63QI-inPOguFFd2HXljyHpauQBMpnW8_VCps5ENWobSCwhoGfOL-t3WF3WseJVtFvNa8CdYiXQHEtFhGFnE49lfocqaL255xH5H8KNJ5vEFnebhxaHyxJVYN37C7/s320/mixed+in+progress.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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tonight i am gonna get some posts made. they are overdue. here is a photo of an older pair i made and me when i was a year younger. the contrast amuses me.<br />
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<span style="color: red;">old lady ears... pay no attention to the grey hair, wrinkles and age spots around those lobes. </span></div>
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<span style="color: red;">it is the scale, color and floral form of the post earrings that are noteworthy.</span></div>
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<span style="color: red;"> and then there are some new necklaces that i made with silver chains </span></div>
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<span style="color: red;">instead of my more usual vintage lucite beaded ones. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHNLSPCDCj4vlmb0EHs4sr8VTdWCufcG1kxO1PfBTyyeSssPaBsTI09imyY1Htcu-AGxRWwuX0JGwqvclbZZ0GXTb5jwHFCs7wuMUoUUP7TAGcL4vDeM0w-ZO9_LMkxdXxivtu5Nk-PtZO/s1600/A1+chains+mixed.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHNLSPCDCj4vlmb0EHs4sr8VTdWCufcG1kxO1PfBTyyeSssPaBsTI09imyY1Htcu-AGxRWwuX0JGwqvclbZZ0GXTb5jwHFCs7wuMUoUUP7TAGcL4vDeM0w-ZO9_LMkxdXxivtu5Nk-PtZO/s320/A1+chains+mixed.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: red;">a new pair of GRACELETS...</span></div>
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<span style="color: red;">since way back when my son was small and charming, </span></div>
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<span style="color: red;">he would call bracelets 'gracelets' instead. </span></div>
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<span style="color: red;">and for all of you keeping score at home, </span><br />
<span style="color: red;">fresh chain bracelets came into being as well. </span><br />
<span style="color: red;">they are punctuated with earrings (again in their then, unwired state)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFhD6YdfHejcbGNW_3_q33A3D5VjfRTAJV_9ggeqKRi1GsfCtndVD-Q0hR3FD0oqb0GT3rhSRtCdVSVmBVIZNO90Y32ZhsoaxPL9aDX1hr1igeTjd7BFXCxzXTd3NWRH6Xb9PINRC3zp9b/s1600/A1+mixed+chains+&+ers.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFhD6YdfHejcbGNW_3_q33A3D5VjfRTAJV_9ggeqKRi1GsfCtndVD-Q0hR3FD0oqb0GT3rhSRtCdVSVmBVIZNO90Y32ZhsoaxPL9aDX1hr1igeTjd7BFXCxzXTd3NWRH6Xb9PINRC3zp9b/s320/A1+mixed+chains+&+ers.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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my daily rant is now concluded. i know there are loads of things to do other than take a field trip into my world, but thanks for looking in.</div>
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<b><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: large;">xo.</span></b><b><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: large;">xo.</span></b><b><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: large;">xo.</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;">w.</span></b></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7653737454144156586.post-84969828652957655542012-10-08T11:00:00.004-04:002012-10-08T11:02:36.445-04:00i hate that i hate some of my neighbors.hate is a strong word. i am feeling a certain degree of it though... or some degree of incomparable discomfort. my neighbors are described to me as being rachet. yeah, you heard me, i said it. rachet. oh fer heaven's sake, now what is she going on about? i know that is what you are thinking. also you may be saying to yourselves, she is on another stinkin' nonsense filled rant. no good can come of this.<br />
<br />
my neighbors moved in to the house across the street from me. it bugs me a lot, since i am in my house a lot. i work in the front, street-side room and do most of my stuff there. i mean eat meals, work on projects, talk on the phone, nap, comb my dog, make proclamations to my brood, and all other parts of my day to day living. so i have the distinct location of hearing a lot of what happens across the street from me. i do not try to eavesdrop, i swear. however it is very seductive. the goings on there are tantalizingly invasive and curiosity inducing.<br />
<br />
when they moved in, i thought it was some guy and two pitt bull dogs. the guy was some non-descript amalgamation of racially blended heritage and a full bushy black beard. it was summer and hot out... so the commitment to a full on beard had me totally thrown. and then his friends or relatives started to show up. all of them had the same thing going on... droopy drawers and full black beards. short hair up top went with the beards. they looked very much like they ought to be profiled. the difference between someone being or needing to be profiled and this group is that there is a privacy barrier.<br />
<br />
someone forgot to mention this to the new guys. if you are profile-worthy, typically it is due to having secrets. these people do not entertain secrets. not at all.<br />
except on the big things. those are topics that are not publicly expressed. it took me months and months and into the years and years category to find out, there was not just a guy with a bushy black beard and his hairy faced acolytes to deal with. nope. this guy had gone to some kind of technical school degree and was educated in the ways of construction management. he was married. he had a small daughter with the aforementioned wife. since the baby was born with all kinds of early health issues, they decided that the wife was best to go out and earn some money, while he stayed home with his daughter. wow. this sounded so evolved in theory.<br />
<br />
the bushy dudes love to come visit in packs. at all hours. they are just wastrels of all kinds. the women associated with them are the worst ever. the wife snarls when she sees me. i enjoy as i get to know them more, that i rarely see the wife. i have NEVER seen the baby girl. i have of course seen the dogs. often too. they are beaujolais and botox. i kid you not. those are their names. ok, maybe i kid a little, but not much. why? cause you just cannot make this shit up. no matter how hard you try.<br />
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one nice summer day, i was on my front porch either painting or taking photos. the posse was out front with a few motorbikes and lots of chatter. every third word was one that became very noticeable in lexicology of a certain socio-age-economical collective. it starts with an "N" and is only used in impolite company, in rap songs blaring out of tinted glass windowed cars or by non-white people.<br />
seriously, i think the word becomes so used by this crowd, it loses context and the horror of the O.J. Simpson murder trial.<br />
i was wincing every time these ill mannered youths said it. there is a peculiar phenomenon on this street. sound carries unbelievably well bouncing down between houses on the street. the particular summer day that this was occuring, was no exception. i kept hearing "nigga" this and "nigga" that. if you say it enough, it has no context. it becomes an article in grammar.<br />
the loss of the horror of this word became bothersome to keep hearing... at least to my sensibilities. i shouted across the street to interject myself into the bushy bearded motorcycle revving crowd. i wanted to let them know, i did not appreciate their intrusiveness into my own world. minding my own business was becoming harder to do. they ignored me. afterall, they were busy creating a pocket of social tastelessness.<br />
not very surprising, but when a fat, grey-haired woman screams that you gotta stop sayin' NIGGA, it draws some attention. funny how that happens. i have not heard it since i started calling that word on that day.<br />
<br />
i described this scene to my kids. my son and daughter number two, aka "thing one" and "thing two" as named by my eldest. i told them how it played out that i was no longer horrified to say the "N"-word. these two uber-white kids i have raised, told me our neighbors were just being <i>ratchet</i>. or was that <i>rachet</i>?<br />
their definition was, folks that are pretending or genuinely not caring about being with the inner city rats and living messy urban lives. i did not get that at first. of course, being me, i looked it up in the dictionary. the urban dictionary that is. now i see that my kids were right. there is both a thing that is <i>rachet</i> as well as <i>ratchet</i>. in the application of my neighbors being grouped as such, it was an error. they are neither <i>rachet/ratchet</i> . they are in fact <i>"ghetto"</i>. so "<i>ghetto"</i> in fact they may also overlap with some "<i>rachet"</i>.<br />
either way, i dislike the whole thing.<br />
in a huge way.<br />
<br />
it amazes me that these little darlings, set upon the world by their own pod-parents, would likely be hugely self satisfied knowing they were considered <i>"ghetto". </i>as it happens, i cannot believe in any manner that they would be thrilled to be considered consolidated jews in Venice, Italy. of course, if they knew the origins of a ghetto, it would mortify them.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<table id="entries" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: black; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; margin-bottom: 5px; text-align: start; width: 475px;"><tbody>
<tr><td class="word" style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;">ghetto</td><td class="tools" id="tools_1079634" style="line-height: 20px; text-align: right; vertical-align: top; white-space: nowrap;"><br /></td></tr>
<tr><td style="vertical-align: top;"></td><td class="text" colspan="2" id="entry_1079634" style="line-height: 1.8; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-right: 15px; vertical-align: top;"><div class="definition">
1. (n.) A quarantined section of the city where the Jews were forced to live during WWII Germany.</div>
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<a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=ghetto">http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=ghetto</a> </div>
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other things that are going up my nose about this collective include the response to their broken doorbell.<br />
friends and relatives pull up and honk their horns to say howdy. or come on down to the sidewalk. i want to snag some drugs, man.<br />
the women are the WORST. i mean THE Everloving WORST! they are ill mannered, cussing, quick tempered crankpots. what i find amusing is that the males associated with them from the bushyfaced entourage think that they have some control over these nasty gals.<br />
they go off in all kinds of finger wagging, high haired, ill conceived barrages of language and bad mannered entitlement.<br />
i find it utterly intolerable. really, it tweaks my sensibilities fully and completely. what is most inconceivable is that through a myriad of events... the landlord for the house is now the bank. the former owner defaulted on his mortgage. these people are officially squatting and lowering the quality of the neighborhood i used to enjoy.<br />
i resist change at every turn... but having had this group of folks thrust into my world is pretty painful.<br />
so they can make as much unpleasing noise at all hours, drop trash on my front sidewalk, dump car trash and cigarette butts from their cars in front of my home. they pay no rent/mortgage/utilities. my husband worked 3 jobs this week to pay for all of those god-given(snort) chances fulfilling our mortgage and utility needs.<br />
rodney dangerfields are we. we get NO RESPECT.<br />
<br />
if my umbrage is not heated enough... they put their dogs on the 4'x8' front porch over the front door. the dogs whimper and whine and bark. during one evening last week (concurrent with the first presidential debate), beaujolais dog was whining for 3 1/2 hours. it was raining too. it is all i can do not to call animal services. these two un-neutered pitts are developing some anger issues. i am right there with them too. they get put out in the sun on hot days, rainy days, as well as anytime it is inconvenient to be cared for. i figure their paws are the canine version of overly callused by now to withstand these porch visits. as a dog owner, i object to all of their bad habits. i just can't do much to improve their lives without speaking out to the bush family.<br />
<br />
anyways, there is much more to whinge on about... but i wanted to vent some. these folks are ruining my happy hippie flower ju-ju.<br />
to bring things back into my own world and focus... i leave these floral pics as a visual salve to the posting.<br />
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-size: large;">OOOOOOMMMMMMM!</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: large;">*********</span></div>
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<span style="color: red;">earrings & bracelets</span></div>
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<span style="color: red;">Frida style</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCBxt5BVIbyEaprF_XpzCeYfcRJqAh6wTO6szsXLvxxewhFn3eY1ErFl36m8QCKGAdj1fmIvs-HC5_qwkHYnXcqscibThMy2qmS07r9lZ9bQh7FG2BP5KcNS9JU509dDYB8zm71UpMiGt0/s1600/A2+mixed+chains+&+ers.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="299" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCBxt5BVIbyEaprF_XpzCeYfcRJqAh6wTO6szsXLvxxewhFn3eY1ErFl36m8QCKGAdj1fmIvs-HC5_qwkHYnXcqscibThMy2qmS07r9lZ9bQh7FG2BP5KcNS9JU509dDYB8zm71UpMiGt0/s320/A2+mixed+chains+&+ers.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: red;">beady flower necklaces</span></div>
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<span style="color: red;">more Frida style</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXPOF3cskzJbKsgJ4EDKdwRqYxCq11z7IBlOTOSGtJgU3UkTeKvQ1sYz1OwyGMiOvtqzoxM_-oDEVqWYC2k4jV_KWPqlqawgpLA1IwHUEru1bK59JRj9OsqyGHlrNZXpQQwkFtB2DOHSmN/s1600/A1+group+fridas.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="184" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXPOF3cskzJbKsgJ4EDKdwRqYxCq11z7IBlOTOSGtJgU3UkTeKvQ1sYz1OwyGMiOvtqzoxM_-oDEVqWYC2k4jV_KWPqlqawgpLA1IwHUEru1bK59JRj9OsqyGHlrNZXpQQwkFtB2DOHSmN/s320/A1+group+fridas.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: red;">gracelets </span></div>
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<span style="color: red;">in pink and brown</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjHAOlq1LLqI_pOLweNQVR97xoUZQ-_soPjW6VNSTwA2kUdr18s29bA0dfQVVFnlaTwrFnFrK_0T5CKB6YRjVvaC9wHVYqT7ckRsZHDi1wBMsYGS5DsSpTIZ7ZCakYqA616e5uH2Uq-HuJ/s1600/D2.pink+brown.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjHAOlq1LLqI_pOLweNQVR97xoUZQ-_soPjW6VNSTwA2kUdr18s29bA0dfQVVFnlaTwrFnFrK_0T5CKB6YRjVvaC9wHVYqT7ckRsZHDi1wBMsYGS5DsSpTIZ7ZCakYqA616e5uH2Uq-HuJ/s320/D2.pink+brown.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: red;"> in calico</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUS2NIR8Js5_DJ0tt6Zok76HFiXryVH6n3QxVnn9azw0YuYyNIDZjrR4D4vLAWKrp-oyepFHHXBQ9Dj_EYjqf05XiyKpV35hYLC08a2ALE7YfOOV3NcK35Gc86OyH9vO5TLrrI6m_9euHD/s1600/B1.calico.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="119" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUS2NIR8Js5_DJ0tt6Zok76HFiXryVH6n3QxVnn9azw0YuYyNIDZjrR4D4vLAWKrp-oyepFHHXBQ9Dj_EYjqf05XiyKpV35hYLC08a2ALE7YfOOV3NcK35Gc86OyH9vO5TLrrI6m_9euHD/s320/B1.calico.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: red;">deep cornflower blue earrings...</span></div>
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<span style="color: red;">sans wires</span></div>
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<span style="color: red;">{they are easier to photograph without the wires}</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg62lFZBzpr7Xq60JyvWNYZyB_FGt-v1XAzrlcEtuZrJhPOhuVfDFuDFI-08H3KgZgwFD3M1qa8Y29uqVdOBP-sjli9MwzKhJx5__vokn36HXsWKGJi5QLdDM89di0nWB-3-HUJ-rle2Ngd/s1600/C1+deep+cornflower.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="319" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg62lFZBzpr7Xq60JyvWNYZyB_FGt-v1XAzrlcEtuZrJhPOhuVfDFuDFI-08H3KgZgwFD3M1qa8Y29uqVdOBP-sjli9MwzKhJx5__vokn36HXsWKGJi5QLdDM89di0nWB-3-HUJ-rle2Ngd/s320/C1+deep+cornflower.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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more things are coming as soon as i get some photos taken.</div>
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so i bid you adieu on this crisp autumnal day... as i need to go back to work, teasing a few more pretty blossoms into existence.<br />
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bon jour everyone... for now. </div>
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<span style="color: #783f04; font-size: large;">xoxox. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: large;"><b>W.</b></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7653737454144156586.post-27562496853708595882012-09-08T23:34:00.000-04:002012-09-08T23:34:20.754-04:00it is deliciously quiet here today. everyone is where they are supposed to be. two are at their respective colleges as of monday, the widget is at school and the dh is working.<br />
this is prime time to get my own needs met. today has a list of three things to do:<br />
ship some stuff, clean up the house, exercise/walk the dog.<br />
<br />
no where on that very short list is grumbling, grinding my molars, or fretting. yet, i am doing all three.<br />
i have my ideal environment in play right now and i am just simmering at upset.<br />
1. the widget is not feeling her best. she has been throwing up nearly every day since before school resumed. she is a driven critter and loves playing both ice and field hockey. also there is the beast that high school is, to contend with and the cherry on top is a nascent boyfriend situation.<br />
2. someone i placed a lot of faith in over time, has admitted that it is all quid pro quo. and the onus is on me. i do not care how much we are interdependent, but the work being done on my behalf at best is half assed. i am so sad, because i hate when relationships end ... and i fear this one really needs to.<br />
3. my son was very immature last year. i worry how much of the past will repeat itself.<br />
4. it is painful to scrape together money that should be dedicated to things like a new roof or tires to make our car roadworthy... for shows that are not earning their keep for 4 months. it is the way that it goes, but i still have trouble reconciling this.<br />
5. i need to get a RI tax permit. plain and simply, because i hate paying taxes at shows with a temporary permit.<br />
6. some new forms of growth are on my platter... and i need to get over my fears about trying to harness the skills required to feel comfortable about them.<br />
7. i want to learn to do some new things : solder, leather crafting, fimo work.<br />
8. controlling how mad teenaged girls make me is taking a lot of effort; watching my daughter suffer through these lessons is as hard for me to hold back on as it is to watch her live through.<br />
9. with fresh changes to my diet, i no longer can drink my coffee in the morning. i miss this caffeinating ritual with all my heart and hope that all the other alterations will permit me to someday enjoy some grains of sugar within that essential elixir again.<br />
<br />
the weather is glorious out, the dog has had a little fun at a park, i have walked, and now it is time to get through the other two legs of my to-do list.<br />
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in the mean time... some photos, (already posted on facebook...sorry for this redundancy) of the past weekend's show.<br />
as shows go, this could have been better laid out physically and better attended. the glorious sunshine and heat influenced the crowds appearance. this is absolutely nobody's fault, cause it is part of the outdoor crafters life... you just deal with it. i too wish to have been at the beach instead of hawking my wares on an asphalt substrate, but i needed the money and exposure. frankly, there is just so much disposable income available for purchasing, so what i was able to capture with my sales was really gratefully appreciated. i never take that lightly.<br />
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">a smidge of the tablescape</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf_opItTdVZgKGQScN7phKf3Sik9HNwHybCS0fEtl3Q6t03mGLkLRZLLZr9qmrdOPqWpExRlp7R_ExGvJz9TOSf9LZQ1ubGIdUNu6T9LYy5u6YfkYizXmZm9BGeHDStH776SqyVedIxWoO/s1600/a+little+blush+paint+.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf_opItTdVZgKGQScN7phKf3Sik9HNwHybCS0fEtl3Q6t03mGLkLRZLLZr9qmrdOPqWpExRlp7R_ExGvJz9TOSf9LZQ1ubGIdUNu6T9LYy5u6YfkYizXmZm9BGeHDStH776SqyVedIxWoO/s320/a+little+blush+paint+.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">some of my bubblemania style </span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">companion bracelets</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRkO9RDUG_2GjbhDuypO2fc8LF76hWp4iwsECeDK2lQaNd1lLrzxoNGViiDVuSU3NuH6k_aDvE3NbFngu7bAKRzcBlcjStgdjKv85N2cUMnizxoT7WvyNX4dYL-w-wPSfxgdHE6nO7EeOK/s1600/bubble+bracelets.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRkO9RDUG_2GjbhDuypO2fc8LF76hWp4iwsECeDK2lQaNd1lLrzxoNGViiDVuSU3NuH6k_aDvE3NbFngu7bAKRzcBlcjStgdjKv85N2cUMnizxoT7WvyNX4dYL-w-wPSfxgdHE6nO7EeOK/s320/bubble+bracelets.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">earrings, brooches & </span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">bubblemania necklaces</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-2EHx-2ZPrBZvPaBCxBs9mAtkg9OSTsTak4toqFx36mG2-73PE4V9Y7kDa5La0G3Mgo1dDWhm6Nhn5HxC4bzxQxBzdegkf61ONdzHU8qk3q09C9QLWPdlOyCzPDnOM6_ISWrWQe8GsegZ/s1600/earrings,+pins+and+bubblemania.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-2EHx-2ZPrBZvPaBCxBs9mAtkg9OSTsTak4toqFx36mG2-73PE4V9Y7kDa5La0G3Mgo1dDWhm6Nhn5HxC4bzxQxBzdegkf61ONdzHU8qk3q09C9QLWPdlOyCzPDnOM6_ISWrWQe8GsegZ/s320/earrings,+pins+and+bubblemania.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">shell and pearls</span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">ribbons and flowers</span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">millinery and metals</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgujtZ1zpImEp69bKcEqcFmyXMFYijHTr5kC6NJfL6vUeWajMrsAoTuUggDZOe26Sz0bKH8zp4KFU46LCw4RqaIngNVqEjfkm2zYBrI1KSWjFlw9Qb3cmj9eIW2yKK9RuBtfRwsQAUehNCR/s1600/need+to+be+seen+likety+split!.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgujtZ1zpImEp69bKcEqcFmyXMFYijHTr5kC6NJfL6vUeWajMrsAoTuUggDZOe26Sz0bKH8zp4KFU46LCw4RqaIngNVqEjfkm2zYBrI1KSWjFlw9Qb3cmj9eIW2yKK9RuBtfRwsQAUehNCR/s320/need+to+be+seen+likety+split!.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">little earrings </span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">for the more demure bendywholigans</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAOScGv1e1FutBVyzCWXxA7-L4APM44ZCeAGVbo6xomMl3JqWpBwE_IFED2bxcfXRtPiQIYimkgI8ff0Lfrh-PY7r54BvDjxCAabkucfbEzwuIl5yoiYBUaospxuIDeYZZoKGxTvJGgtAV/s1600/P1130002_950x950.shkl.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAOScGv1e1FutBVyzCWXxA7-L4APM44ZCeAGVbo6xomMl3JqWpBwE_IFED2bxcfXRtPiQIYimkgI8ff0Lfrh-PY7r54BvDjxCAabkucfbEzwuIl5yoiYBUaospxuIDeYZZoKGxTvJGgtAV/s320/P1130002_950x950.shkl.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">a collection of minis</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCQMmogGDOOuwI1aLrNJeB_vzFYQN0Ct09VCoOikRLWoCJFYsIzAOc78GUJycrquGx6pAaEk7Ax82SfqBCfVbhPp_PwCuCsPvBPSXo6d_pENZQjDaSMl0uZWDfrJIOiQ6MCWrzni7Bpsv4/s1600/A2+late+season+minis.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCQMmogGDOOuwI1aLrNJeB_vzFYQN0Ct09VCoOikRLWoCJFYsIzAOc78GUJycrquGx6pAaEk7Ax82SfqBCfVbhPp_PwCuCsPvBPSXo6d_pENZQjDaSMl0uZWDfrJIOiQ6MCWrzni7Bpsv4/s320/A2+late+season+minis.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">hot off the fingertips and pliers...</span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">floral lockets</span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">finally, tiny romantic hideaways </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKDcaozFB_1r3TfHVV0S11jUR-H_YD3sBqRwaEQwjy8pq-mppQLhbb3JPmB68OIQm-zFEErbyxH_V7iBk_DZcjoLhBK4Say9aiPMuON5dytUr9QEaEVFXyvVAZVN6F2lq9I833orHU-rBx/s1600/mixed+late+days.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="143" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKDcaozFB_1r3TfHVV0S11jUR-H_YD3sBqRwaEQwjy8pq-mppQLhbb3JPmB68OIQm-zFEErbyxH_V7iBk_DZcjoLhBK4Say9aiPMuON5dytUr9QEaEVFXyvVAZVN6F2lq9I833orHU-rBx/s320/mixed+late+days.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">a wedding necklace for kirsten</span> <span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">c-s</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho7jaNG6rz5sBBjfRXwfuv-wxNQ4qmpZTk9DJGhBUsgmsGuLbtkYlc5iWqQ8qqZmVzjd1Mg1b4JJmsOIDReFzsY_irgxCjnq2gqxo3w8cwFFZvJBtBdKwC9F8hJy_gqhPo6bTrhELxhJPK/s1600/kirsten+F.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho7jaNG6rz5sBBjfRXwfuv-wxNQ4qmpZTk9DJGhBUsgmsGuLbtkYlc5iWqQ8qqZmVzjd1Mg1b4JJmsOIDReFzsY_irgxCjnq2gqxo3w8cwFFZvJBtBdKwC9F8hJy_gqhPo6bTrhELxhJPK/s320/kirsten+F.JPG" width="186" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">beady flower necklaces</span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">turning over to the new season</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6rUh3Sv9npUQe8NtLqtPIgi8CQJOXLdOcKDsxmfjqq1rK8sdntHjqDZKA6BLuvTSMOFbqfckhH_iX8Y2Ib4F3QAz_I7eYHjbR2mMryAaWZrppRTSf5ZeLzY9lXcHnyOUsnKHkVAPW3qMJ/s1600/late+day+group+photo+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="317" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6rUh3Sv9npUQe8NtLqtPIgi8CQJOXLdOcKDsxmfjqq1rK8sdntHjqDZKA6BLuvTSMOFbqfckhH_iX8Y2Ib4F3QAz_I7eYHjbR2mMryAaWZrppRTSf5ZeLzY9lXcHnyOUsnKHkVAPW3qMJ/s320/late+day+group+photo+3.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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a d i e u</div>
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a u f w i e d e r s e h e n</div>
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l a t e r a l l i g a t o r s...</div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">xow.</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7653737454144156586.post-19680547833225066252012-08-30T10:02:00.002-04:002012-08-30T17:25:24.139-04:00first day of school againthe first day of school has rolled around again. i drove my daughter to her hell hole. she told me while we sat in bumper to bumper traffic, that she wished she could go back to when she was a freshman. that was when she could walk into the building and not be filled with crazy levels of emotions. i understand her anxiety. in preparing for this day, i too have had a lot of trepidation.<br />
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when i went to high school, i could count on the specific smell of freshly sharpened pencils and it being too hot out to wear one of my newest woolen skirts. now, it is a smell of hair product, new backpacks and some stuff you just can't put your finger on. i would guess some of that is testosterone and estrogen raging against the machines if i had that chance.<br />
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as the usual end of summer panic sets in, my husband entertains notions of saving a crumb of it for his mental scrapbook. his summers are filled with long work days, fresh salads for dinners and weekend travel with the kids. the reality of this is, he plays hockey 2-3 times a week, nods off before some dinner slop is hastily pulled together. he fantasizes and makes do with a couple of days in some NH campsite with the younger smart-ass set. this is his vacation. mine is when he goes.<br />
they top off this rougher vacation pass by visiting one of his clients and his wife. they have a lovely vacation home on a lake in NH. i usually take photos of the brood before they strike off in their faux-camping phase. this is just in case i need to have a park ranger find them. fresh photos are a benchmark of this experience.<br />
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i enjoy staying home. me and the dog. and whatever child has a scheduling conflict for this 'vacation'. the hosts of my family (other than the campgrounds) are a very nice, older couple. they are well off and are happy to have my husband and kids visit. they are not interested in my dog... which is great news for me. i have enjoyed the family free experience with glee each time i have had to say no thank you to the invite.<br />
my hubby does a lot of work for them, and apparently this time through, brought some of it with him. luckily for him, this is an overnighter of a visit. no greater amount of time could be set aside to deal with a dream to-do list.<br />
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one of the things that happens on this trip, is that my eldest is called by the wrong name for days on end. she is hugely good natured about it and tries to ignore the whole thing. ignoring is different than planned distraction. she brought her computer, headphones and other stuff with her. i think her strategy will work, since being called holly, kelly, hailey and other variants is not her thing. it is especially pointed as her given name is halley. she is pleasant enough about it, but it is understandably wearisome. she has other issues on her mind this year. the main one is that she will be returning to college in 3 days. last year she had an apartment 'off campus'; this year she will be enjoying on-campus digs with 3 other living, breathing, digital art majors. they are her friends too. so she needs to bring less to school with her. it is obvious, that our basement will remain cluttered for a while longer.<br />
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the boy, who has had a bucket list from hell this past year, will be returning to college during the first week of sept.. he has been a snippy, inconsiderate lump a lot this summer. i am looking forward to the end of this miserable version of him. last year he could not wait for us parents to hit the road. this year, i suspect that it will be the other way around. perhaps having stuff on his now broodish little mind has been as hard for him as it has for me. he claims his current reticence is due to his upgraded social life. i think that there is some truth to this. there is a large component of less contact with his mom and dad is likely to keep him off of our radar more. this strategy may be simple, but effective. he only has 3 1/2 more days to keep things moving along harmoniously. it is possible that he could accomplish his goal.<br />
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of course, while i am dragging around town to handle the needs of the now high school sophomore, the boy is being showered with foodie gifts from his hosts as they all rough it together. his hosts prepared a feast of macaroni and cheese with lobster in it for his and his sister halley's(kelly-halle-hailey-holly...) dinner. coming back to the house will undoubtedly fail to meet his newly expanded dreams of real life.<br />
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simultaneously, my widget and i were at a sporting goods store. we were on the hunt for a good backpack that said, "i am cool, in spite of wearing this dorky book-toting/supply bag". her considerations while trying to select a nice accessory included: does this backpack make me look nerdy? but does it make my butt look big too? just the classics, ma'am, just the classics.<br />
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my head hurts from the anxiety of all of these considerations.<br />
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in dealing with all the logistics, it is time to make some floral goods. it is the best way i know how to cope with stress. make something.<br />
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">these are some of my new lockets</span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">with their special hiding place </span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">behind the flowers</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBlGuMxo8fSR57ZnQbYLpyByK-XKSbceGAk_FYRShRqpAxFiGSh9s235ODCCHgCruGM9IxXw8mp_OgRqn6budCHhGq-6xkrewnqyxlfvtu061ZgJuNTiI28-E75bbgvYiWffvLBuSbqjsZ/s1600/late+day+group+photo+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="317" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBlGuMxo8fSR57ZnQbYLpyByK-XKSbceGAk_FYRShRqpAxFiGSh9s235ODCCHgCruGM9IxXw8mp_OgRqn6budCHhGq-6xkrewnqyxlfvtu061ZgJuNTiI28-E75bbgvYiWffvLBuSbqjsZ/s320/late+day+group+photo+3.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">another locket shot</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQK355hgMan4bE1iXUouZeTu69HDpe1TNRR2FSAnX_tRZDzKOCQUHr8r65Oy_i86b2Hv3LTvSBTYFan1ZXA2MNnNuV2nJU8EqYSYgQvHls7ksekt3i_9fMqihalLyQSOZLGvMSzHeEY44g/s1600/mixed+late+days.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="143" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQK355hgMan4bE1iXUouZeTu69HDpe1TNRR2FSAnX_tRZDzKOCQUHr8r65Oy_i86b2Hv3LTvSBTYFan1ZXA2MNnNuV2nJU8EqYSYgQvHls7ksekt3i_9fMqihalLyQSOZLGvMSzHeEY44g/s320/mixed+late+days.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">bridging the gap into autumn colors</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3z6anuU9NqQk8MMccYywaYtGLfOwTy69JEmaLadTl2RLHwDHKu6xAkkuS1qzRe-UXjhrUAyJj1wvRaNuV-Mgrh78mfP-_jNH89pYoZarORVcV5CTZ-Dl03ctjjlpfsWHFona34LA7AlnN/s1600/B1+late+day+fnb.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="167" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3z6anuU9NqQk8MMccYywaYtGLfOwTy69JEmaLadTl2RLHwDHKu6xAkkuS1qzRe-UXjhrUAyJj1wvRaNuV-Mgrh78mfP-_jNH89pYoZarORVcV5CTZ-Dl03ctjjlpfsWHFona34LA7AlnN/s320/B1+late+day+fnb.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">flying lockets</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl9Mq0lN8btCWM6aLZVlUrXe9BgBsOFfz3_jaqv5OEa6JKDg6XtotwPrrf_EYeG3j51wz-qSchUy4atTDrBLJ21YhMDY368ZRSULpX00ReQGTb9cFfryUKXM6juwRfMiHKpdkbTFEnuS5G/s1600/group+4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="319" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl9Mq0lN8btCWM6aLZVlUrXe9BgBsOFfz3_jaqv5OEa6JKDg6XtotwPrrf_EYeG3j51wz-qSchUy4atTDrBLJ21YhMDY368ZRSULpX00ReQGTb9cFfryUKXM6juwRfMiHKpdkbTFEnuS5G/s320/group+4.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">late day earrings</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEdy9T3X3HMaqh_3VIxms4Vl61a2A_rr6oxsEdnRnVdbNSP_MvVmUGjHH-jE4TIWqYiDk9z_epErktaFZ9QU2v38MCG30kmTp6JLrGlmvieRFtqB-jAxilrx4Dpd1ev3BNcZ-85rH8NH6Q/s1600/class+pic2.late+days.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEdy9T3X3HMaqh_3VIxms4Vl61a2A_rr6oxsEdnRnVdbNSP_MvVmUGjHH-jE4TIWqYiDk9z_epErktaFZ9QU2v38MCG30kmTp6JLrGlmvieRFtqB-jAxilrx4Dpd1ev3BNcZ-85rH8NH6Q/s320/class+pic2.late+days.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">it smells like autumn coming</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZYpUPj6G8zLl3x6dJftGn8Cj9xvePQy4dNFnlE-CMDZr3sXXCyn8xRnEA2CZIK1FVpMRG6nBRjtIsXrQHL8P3fE6EJYHuQkRlDT5F4N5rTcshd802HrrL9znJLKScHyaNN6T8UU04rb6O/s1600/B1.late+days.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZYpUPj6G8zLl3x6dJftGn8Cj9xvePQy4dNFnlE-CMDZr3sXXCyn8xRnEA2CZIK1FVpMRG6nBRjtIsXrQHL8P3fE6EJYHuQkRlDT5F4N5rTcshd802HrrL9znJLKScHyaNN6T8UU04rb6O/s320/B1.late+days.JPG" width="319" /></a></div>
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time to pack the car to take the eldest to college.<br />
(please forgive my slow posting. it took 3 days to get this written) </div>
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what a week!!</div>
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<span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">xoxo.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: large;">W.</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7653737454144156586.post-13647643693032879772012-08-24T12:19:00.002-04:002012-08-24T14:27:19.040-04:00pillow talklong have i waxed on about my PG rated fantasies here. i am after more hours than i can count, home alone. the silence punctuated by the cyclic running sounds of the air conditioner is simply HEAVEN on EARTH.<br />
miss twentysomething is at work, the boy who likes to aggravate is at work with my husband, the widget is off with her bff at another teammates home. it is just me, the dog and the filthy tumbleweeds here. Is it wrong to say how much i absolutely LOVE IT?<br />
i apologize to all if i am insulting them, or to you reading if you are in a mentally cluttered hell of your own... aka at the merciless whims of others.<br />
<br />
this week has been extra sloggy. no real work has been accomplished. just too many things have been going on. <br />
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<ol>
<li style="text-align: left;">tess' bff is visiting, for high school "hell week". for scheduling reasons above and beyond sensible control, she needed to be in providence, while her family was out of town. they still come and go, as her dad is working and her older sister has the same preseason crap to deal with. still, it made a lot of sense for her to bunk in with us. i am sure when she hits her twenties, we will not have stupid conversations like the one we had this morning. Me: "k, did you brush your teeth?" K:" ugh do you think i should?" Me: "yes, you probably should". {who is fifteen and doesn't know this yet? also who is fifteen and occasionally likes boys? also, who is fifteen and had me go pick her up at her house because she forgot her toothbrush there days ago? who is fifteen and has dropped a lot of IQ points just cause her head is not filled with life crap yet? the answer to all of these questions is K, she is fifteen.}</li>
<li style="text-align: left;">son had work to do that actually tired him out. it included a trip to the DMV, which translated to 3 hours of sitting around with the milk and honey of Rhode Island car drivers. i can easily say, it is air conditioned adequately, so that would not have been a travesty for me to do. the point of being there was to get a car registered. one with power steering, all 4 doors that open and close, windows that open and close from each spot in the car. a gas cap that is attached to the car... not one that can fly off the trunk if you forget to screw it back in to its proper place after pumping gas. Also the boy had to wait around for something else that day, an alarm company, and the end all be all was at the tire store. we needed to replace all 4 tires on the car to make it safely drivable. when we returned home to have dinner, all passive aggressive eyes look to me, to figure out what it is for common dinner. what ensued was a great grand group of misadventures. my son was watching "LOST" reruns. i was tired and as hungry as everyone else. i was talking to him and he was not amused. he wanted to become one with the sofa. eventually, he got annoyed enough to do the following. text me this message: "STFU". this simple acronym spurred me into insanity. hurt and rage do not cover my emotional wealth at that moment. for those of you not into stupid stuff, this means: "shut the fuck up''. die child of mine for saying such a thing to your mother and suggesting/lying to say you meant to say it to your little sister. we both know you did not. </li>
<li style="text-align: left;">husband bought me a moving sofa when i started to drive. it may have been around $7oo. it was a navy colored buick lesabre. it had single seats for the front and back that were both covered in plush velveteen material. the car industry kind. in return, my paycheck automatically deducted money to pay off a loan we took for a red 1985 mustang. husband wanted a muscle car baaad. we had no kids then. however, the car fell into disrepair as we fell into having children. it has sat in the driveway for nearly 20 years. earlier this summer there were columbines growing out from under its wheels. i loved that. i have been heard to say, i am one bad tattoo away from being officially poor white trash. rarely do we enjoy all of our utilities working at the same time... we have too many cars in our one car driveway, the house is small and cramped, and we eat from the lowest pricing of the grocery store a lot. (mostly because two kids in college and a heart attack victim have left me with less choices for serving food and the pocketbook to do it with). so yesterday after a summer of father-son bonding, the mustang was fixed up well enough to be sold. it was bittersweet. </li>
<li style="text-align: left;">i applied to two shows by the same promoter. he is a swell guy and helps loads of people with his vision of things. sometimes, he gets ahead of things. simultaneously, there is a facebook page that is invite only and filled with info about shows. we of the crafting sort have taken to chatting through this forum. also, i have had to remind myself many times over, not everyone has the same relationship. so yesterday and the day before, many of the folks on my circuit weighed in on the fact that they had made it into one of the shows i had applied for. now the fees for doing the show will cost $450 to be paid up front for december dates. not only is this inconvenient, but it is gonna set me back to square one for a while. this having been said, one of the members of our crafty tribe announced that she was in! this was done publicly on our facebook forum. many others ensued. i am not trying to be a bitch, but not everyone heard their news. so it was upsetting since i was one that hadn't gotten the word yet. i tried not to say STFU but it was eating at me. eventually i did say something about this on the fb page. really, everyone should be told at the same time. also the artists that were in, should NOT have crowed about it. adulthood and grace should have inserted itself to say, not until everyone knows. this is what private messages are for. </li>
</ol>
so i am if nothing a bit grumpy. between this and wanting some sugar really badly while i got a full body set of hives in response to my insulin meds... well grumpy just begins to cover that mess.<br />
today's silence is heaven on earth. i am enjoying it to the max. hell, i may even take a shower and vacuum finally. luxurious style isn't it?<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">why did i call this post "PILLOW TALK"?</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
in my mind's eye, i have developed a line of sofa pillows that i call Pillow Talk. they have sayings needlepointed onto them. kind of like on my great grandma emma's sofa and living room chairs. you know the ones... they never got soiled because they were covered in plastic sheathing? yep. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
to balance these leg-sticking covers, i want to do a bunch of pillows for my sofa. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
clearly a forerunner as of this week is </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;">"STFU"</span></div>
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<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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a second choice is one holding my family crest on it...</div>
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<span style="color: red;">an ostrich with its head under ground. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">surrounded with midievel heraldry symbols and a shield. </span></div>
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this represents the inability of all my family to deal with shit head on. </div>
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<br /></div>
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the third is a quote from the chairman MAO...</div>
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<span style="color: purple;">"it is always darkest before it goes completely black."</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;"><br /></span></div>
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surely, there are other choices, but i am now tired and not gonna list them. i am gonna take another leg to my nappage with the getting is good.<span style="color: purple;"> </span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;"><br /></span></div>
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*****</div>
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fresh flowers are drying as i write this. </div>
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soon my pretties... we will be ready to harvest a new batch. </div>
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and they will become new lockets. </div>
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in two sizes </div>
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and two metal colors. </div>
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hands are rubbing together in glee here!</div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;">green tea rose</span></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;">peace rose</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #e06666;">xoxo.w</span>.</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7653737454144156586.post-71724078240907694542012-08-22T07:44:00.003-04:002012-08-22T07:44:16.729-04:00a summer-free summerthis summer never got off the ground. it was filled with a lot of going to and fro to places that were deemed essential for making things go forward. not enough of it was dedicated to relaxation, fresh lazy meals and seeing my intact brood all together.<br />
<br />
instead i had little sleep and weird dreams to fill that in. like just tonight's dreams were filled with two of my friends coming to visit my tree house home and wrecking their car as well as my tender edifice as they tried to move off of a porch outcropping. ok, i know, weird as all heck. still it was a dream.<br />
<br />
in fact, yesterday should have been composed in blocs of time. not regular ones like minutes and seconds, but just chunks. that was the way it was dedicated to being.<br />
<br />
<ol>
<li> first bloc, take one child to field hockey practice... for preseason{day 2};</li>
<li> take bff to another location for another sport preseason practice {morning day 2} at an hour later... her ride forgot to come get her;</li>
<li> an hour later, pick up first child who is now melting down over not having a copy of her well dr.'s annual visit report from last year; pick up guest child from remote practice location; </li>
<li>meeting a friend for coffee since i have a gift for her and have not seen her all summer;</li>
<li>interim between meeting and pickup of kids, go to dr's office to find a copy of medical records. told that it takes 3-5 business days. if non-official report is given, it is immediately available. small victory cheering ensues.</li>
<li>rush to meet friend for coffee and sit. evidently one of us is in the a/c and the other is baking in the sun on the patio. both considered late. </li>
<li>meet husband and son to switch cars and be left at husband's client's home to wait for ADT, the alarm people. they are scheduled to come from 1-3 pm to change a battery in their carbon monoxide alarm. </li>
<li>two hours later, no internet service, no ipad battery left, one magazine read, no ADT sighting, husband and son return from using car to client's house. we switch autos again. husband and son are in said car, arguing in the post driver's test passing mode. should be exciting time for kid, but he has as always, pissed off the dad. passing his test was accomplished with many caveats. </li>
<li>run south on highway to get food and layaway for child three. preparation for second athletic event of day. pick up jock clothing at store and find a rarity: cute shoes for me! shorty cowboy boots in red and black. perfect for upcoming long skirt and jeans weather. not real cowboy boots, but a nice inexpensive facsimile. </li>
<li>guest child goes to second pre-season practice of day, my own child gets to go to second athletic event of day... summer hockey season semi-final game. </li>
<li>as girls get their second practices accomplished, a buyer comes to look at a red mustang that has been residing in driveway for 20 yrs in all different states of disuse. the boy is again moping, since his bedroom overlooked it in the driveway. his personal dreams to fix it up and drive it, now dashed. the car has sold to a neighbor's friend. it is part of making me really poor white trash anyways, so i am glad to see income generated from its sale and space freed up in the driveway. </li>
<li>guest child gets ride home and is sporting a sprained ankle. practice was great. a teammate stepped on her ankle after she rolled it during practice. she is staying with us, since her pediatrician dad and his dad, a pulmonary specialist are on the cape vacationing together. no help here... we are out of ibuprofen. ice packs are applied. </li>
<li>people are pissed that i haven't mailed stuff out. don't know when i would have found the time to be that efficient. </li>
<li>light is perfect outside, so a few photos of new floral lockets get snapped</li>
<li>dinner, made in tandem by the boy and me. pasta, sauce, coleslaw. </li>
<li>waiting for eldest to get out of work at 10:30 pm. to give a ride home. </li>
<li>edit locket photos while awaiting trip to get eldest from work. </li>
<li>no ibuprofen in house for guest child who has foot propped up and is exhausted from practices. </li>
<li>finally start work day. totally tired myself. throw in towel and deal with insulin. now hives of days ago, finally gone. only one to remain is on right thumb. what is that all about?</li>
<li>give up and promise to make a fresh start on next day. </li>
<li>sleep.</li>
</ol>
<div style="text-align: center;">
rinse and repeat. </div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
after all, it is 'hell week' at the high school. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
why not here too?</div>
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just another day in my life.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
jam packed and all over the place. </div>
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not truly productive.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">locket photos are as follows:</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">closed locket</span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">open locket</span></div>
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maybe i can catch a few more minutes of sleep, now that it is quiet here again?</div>
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i am going to give it the old college try. </div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: large;">xxoo.</span><span style="font-size: large;">W.</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0