How to Half Ass Something.

I have the gift of craft. I do, but in my world that means a lot of starting but not finishing. Right now I am going to tell you how to get something done when you don't really want to finish it.

First you gotta get all gung-ho about it. My mom did this really cute metal table and chair make-over that inspired me to do a similar project and I was on the prowl. First time out I find these these three chairs out on a curb. FREE. They were even sanded so I totes stoked, less work for me. I didn't do before pictures so suck it. I painted the first day I had them. Plum, Green and Orange. I was all about the project, Man! Then I took two weeks off.

After my break, I set my mind on devoting all of my thrifting to finding a piece of crap table and chair. Pickings were slim out here in Yuppyville, PNW. There were a lot of tables for 50 bucks and chairs for 10. I gave them all dirty looks and flipped them off as I left their charity shops. After searching for a few weeks and turning up nothing, I decided I'd go check out the local "you might get lucky and find a gem... but probably not" spot called H20. Have you seen these? Filled with Junk, but I digress. After waiting 20 minutes for someone, anyone to give me a price on this table I found in a back corner holding up 5 mattresses. A very confident and sure of himself dude that I was lucky enough to flag down said "How about 25?" I smirk and reply  " No, I'll pay 20. That's it." He didn't like that, so he then informs me that he wouldn't even start the forklift for that price ( They use a forklift to get things down from the second floor and take it to people's cars.) and I immediately see him telling this story to the mangy crew out back. "So I says to her, I wouldn't even start the forklift...."

 I'm like really dude? We aren't talking about some handcrafted piece of fine furniture here. It's a wood table from the 70's, maybe even 80's which we all know was the worse twenty years of home design and décor, so REALLY DUDE?  I tell him fine, my children and I will carry it down to our car. There is a tense stand off and Mr. Had a Bad Day, Again decides he'll tell someone else to get the forklift. I roll my eyes, he walks away and the skinny guy he likes to order around writes me a ticket for 20 bucks and tells me he'll leave it in front of my car. I have my table.

In the middle of all this, I have a wonderful week-end with friends and I find a chair that is perf. I haggled the lady working the register down from 5 dollars to 3.

After taking numerous pictures and sending them to Amber. Telling the full plan and going over colors. I start to sand this table. Lord help us all I started to sand the table. I sand for one day and it starts to rain. If only the God could have seen my face for the next two days as the rain fell. It was unamused. As soon as I got the next oppurotunity I was gonna sand the crap out of that table and finish this mother of a project. Two days after the rain ended, I started again.

By this point, I am no longer Gung-Ho. I am annoyed and just want to finish so nothing else will be sanded from here on out. Like I said, How to Half Ass a Project. Don't judge me, you knew what this shit was about when you started reading it. Or did you half ass reading the title? But I digress....

I am tired of writing so I will just say I finished it up pretty quickly since I didn't have to sand anything else and while I don't like the vibrant blue color I chose for the last chair, the whole thing came out beautifully... ya know, for being half-assed and all. Also I am going to add two more chairs to complete the look. Feel free and check back for that riveting update.

In no particular order, here are pictures:

Guest Post From a Persistent as F*** Unicorn.

Will you PLEASE just friggin write a consistent blog already….

 

Hello, this is your friend Am here from The Bus Stop (insert plug for my blog early. PLEASE SIGN UP AS A FOLLOWER. Link here.). I am publically pleading with MER via her own blog to start writing again. Here are a few reasons why

1. MER is fabulous. She is witty and charming and the world NEEDS her.

2. Blogging is good for the mind and soul.

3. We want to hear from MER! We love her, we love her writing and we WANT more!

Mer, remember when we promised to each other that in 2013 we would consistently blog? Well, you haven’t blogged since February….. mmmkkkk

.Please come back. It’s been a while (insert that sappy song here).

Let’s inspire each other! Let’s do this together for a year. Are you with me??????

Your loving friend,

Am xoxox

 

BIO: Am is the writer of the Bus Stop a blog about a girl who discovered a unicorn living behind a waterfall. She enjoys writing, reading, music, Mermaids, Coney Island, Hankies, Coffee, YA, Whiskey, the smell of dog paws, napping in the park, knowing where to find a loo, birthdays, and people that smile.



A Little Tooo Much...

So, I don't know why I'm blogging again.

Everytime I write something here I think to myself, "Oh My Goodness, You.are.a.tool. Take it down. Honestly, I could be putting it into a journal and it would be much more private and less.... Just less. And maybe that's the point. I want to put it out into the universe, send it away.

After publishing the Fragile post, I immediately wanted to take it down. Does that make any sense at all? I want it there to get it out but I don't want it there because you read this. I'll be honest, whenever people are too honest and emotional and sensitive in their blogs, I just roll my eyes. I'm like ok, you just want attention. That is obviously judgy me doing that, but because I am like that I have this overwhelming fear that I seem fake and I honest to God just want to be really friggin genuine. If I am nothing else in life, that is the one thing I want to be and aspire for.

So this is where I am realizing that I really do care what people think.......

Only, I don't care if people think that I'm crazy, loud, obnoxious, funny, sarcastic, big-mouth, judgy or an idiot; because I am all of those things and those can all be fun. However, I do care if people think I'm wounded, sad, hurt, weak, dishonest, incapable of strength, insecure and basically just an all around cry baby. I don't want to be the cliche walking wounded person. I'm not that person... Not completely.

So I guess it's possible to be all of these things, at the same time. Some are hiding others, but they are still real and genuine. Right?

Fragility.

So many things are so fragile, cracking and crumbling and gone so quickly. Fragility of mind and body itself can come and go. Leaving strength to return just as urgently as it left.

It's a very confusing state to be in, feeling so utterly breakable that with just one more little push, you're gonna go down. The tears right on the edge of your eyelids, but not spilling over. It's not just about sadness either, that fragility, even joy can make it spill over. Laughter. Any of it. Feeling anything at all can make you fall, make you tumble out of your own skin and then you are in trouble. Then you are just bare.

So you gather that strength that you thought was gone, you gather your skin and put it back on, maybe adding a layer of armor to it. Ever so quickly so no one sees your ass flying out in the wind. Because that would be quite the sight to behold and most definitely make for an awkward conversation, an awkward moment. Being stared at. Nothing is more awkward than people looking, gawking at you in slight horror, slight amazement.

Be Honest

"If you're gonna write something, be honest, Trisha." - Me to myself, just now.


Unfortunately there was an incident this morning where I just came to a point that I could not listen to my daughter talk about hair, make-up, legs, feet, clothes, this girl, that girl, bangs, tights, shirts, pants, fashion, etc. for one more second. I have been listening to it for months now and I just exploded. I just yelled, "Would you please talk about something else besides your freaking shoes, your hair, your eyes, your feet, your height! You're beautiful! I know it's where you are in life right now, but you gotta get past this obsession with your looks and move on! You are who you are, who cares about other people's this and that. You are you! You are beautiful!" I just couldn't take it anymore. It's all she talks about.

I shouldn't have yelled. I know. It bothers me as much as it bothers you but for the love of all that is holy, she isn't even 12 yet. If she is starting all this fashion talk now, what the hell is left for 16? I don't even want to know. Don't get me wrong, I love fashion. I love shopping and doing all that stuff with her, but there's more to life.

The worst part is, I feel it's my fault. When she was younger, I may have been slightly obsessed with fashioin and that may have molded her mind into thinking jeans and sweaters in combination with the right necklace and boot makes the world go round, because it does. Although, like I said, there are other things.

This is where I am at right now, One. I need to bring more discipline, and by discipline I don't mean sending her to her room for online shopping but rather controlling ones self when it comes to things like "fashion". Also bringing more substance into my childrens lives so that the things that youngens can get a little obsessed with, like fashion, can be realized as just what they are. A fun afterthought. Two, Chill out and don't take it too seriously. Three, apologize for yelling.

So, instead of shopping as bonding, we will be doing more museuming as bonding. More science and nature as fun rewards. I'm thinking horseback riding and nature reserves, Music lessons. You see where I'm going with this?

 "Let's talk about Science, Kids!" - That will be me.

It's a fine line, folks. One day you think you're doing great as a parent and the next day you think you're an idiot. Most days, both are true.

I Got Dreeeeaaams

Dear Heavens, you can have them. I don't want to remember them.

When a dream comes along and you have it, so lucidly that you wake up crying and you are paralyzed by the fear of it. Well just.... Fuck that. Often when I hear people talk about their dreams and how they always dream of this that and the other I get a little jealous. I get a little sad that I dont have such tangible dreams. *Que the screeching to a halt record noise.* Over it!

So last night I had a dream that one of my beloved progeny passed. The bizzare awareness that I had of her even though she was gone was overwhelming in the dream and even still, now, knowing it wasn't real. I was consumed with grief and unable to leave our home. She kept telling me to go and I couldn't, because she was there. She was a ghost in our home and I couldn't move away because I couldn't leave her there, alone. What do you get when you analyze that? I wouldn't know.

 From there it evolved into something weird in which a man in an and airport gave me a whole bunch of jewelry from a dead guy and, after googling it, he found out one of the rings were worth $200,000.00. I put it in my pocket and said thank you as I ran for the gate.

Looking in the mirror... It's not always a bad thing.

Today, as I washed my hands, I glanced at myself in the bathroom mirror. Sweet Jesus. I look like this everyday? Honetly?

As I have recently been dealing and pulling myself out of a quasi deppression type deal, I have been starting to notice what I have let happen to myself over the past year. I don't even know how it happened. It's like one day about a year ago, I just sat down on the couch and stopped doing everything. Noth completely though, which may be why I didn't really feel it happening, I still did daily chores and things that needed to be done, but I stopped caring about any of it. Without even realizing it, I carried on with that for a long time. I didn't stop caring about other people, but I stopped caring about myself. Like nothing I did mattered.

While on some level I realize I do matter and I am supposed to care about things, that's logical. That's what any person with some assemblage of life and knowledge and logic and spirituality should know about being a human and existing. It's just like, that message wasn't getting sent home, the synapsis were missing each other on that one. Does that make sense?

There is also my overwhelming sense of not wanting to burden anyone with my problems. I am most often unable to put myself first in any situation. It's very hard for me to make decisions based on my own wants and needs. I always defer to someone else. Trust me, I'm not tooting my own here, this is a quality about myself that I actually quite loathe. I can't tell you how many times in my life I have missed out on something I wanted very badly or I allowed myself to be treated horribly, and without love and compassion because I didn't want the other person to feel bad for being an asshole. I mean really? What kind of person doesn't want their tormentor to feel bad? Doesn't want the monster to feel pain?

It actually took my husband getting very angry with me and confronting me with certain things that I have been doing, for me to really understand that I have to talk. I have to make thoughts into words and express them. Otherwise, I become what I have become.

So what am I doing? I'm not sure but I'm trying to be more of a person. I have a job that matters to someone, I have responsibility in my life.  I mean, I'm not growing flowers and sunshine in my internal organs, but yes... I feel like at 33 years of age, I understand that I am responsible for my own shit. I have to allow myself to matter for it to actually be a thing in life. I have to take something seriously and treat it like it matters.

Just thought I'd share that with you. Reader.

Oh. This is what I looked like in the mirror when I was washing my hands... Just for a visual and also because I like taking pictures. SMILE.

 

Yes, that is a Twilight shirt under an Army P.T. Hoody. Heeeey!

 

Pinny Pinny Pinterest.

I'm gonna name my next dog Pinny... Mainly because I'm not having anymore kids. SMILE.

My Unicorn over at the Bus Stop, is Super. She told me I had to do a grateful jar so I am. Here it is:

 

Heeeeey.

It's Official.

On Halloween I took the kids downtown do Trick or Treating and while we were walking I kept feeling the ole underoos slipping down.  At first, I kept telling myself it was just a little slip, no reason to hike them back up. That little slip turned into a whole ass. By the time we got back to the car, my undies were no longer over my ass, they were under my ass. I tried a few nonchalant (In my head they were nonchalant) grab and pulls, but these fuckers weren't staying.

So everyone I know, knows that I moved out here to Oregon about a year ago and all of my close people know I haven't transitioned well. It's been rough and when the rough stuff gets going, I get to eating. I'll be honest, I don't care about my body or my mind as long as I got a meal in my belly. These are coping skills, people. Look it up. Who needs a doctor when you got a Polar Pop and hot dog?

Now that you've got that little back story I need to move one to this morning. I'm getting dressed, about to take the kids to school, because that pretty much my only responsibility these days. So I am slipping on the White Cottons and they aren't really making their way over my boodie. Wham! It hits me. I have officially eaten myself into my underwear not fitting me anymore. The stretchiest piece of clothing I own is at it's max capacity.

You would think that I would immediately get on the horn with The Biggest Loser people, but I did not. I shrugged.

Hello, is it me Your Looking For?

While I don't suspect anyone is there anymore but I will say hello. The adventures of life have taken me here. To Oregon. It's been slow going but I am starting to enjoy life in Oregon. It took awhile to get it going and we all know I am as impatient as a bitch can come so this was not easy for me. There was crying, there was a lot of upsettedness like only I can do. Dishes in the sink, unfolded clothes, commercials... you name it. It either put me over the edge and I cried or got pissed off.

Rick is a trooper. He sticks by my whackjobbedness with great fervor. It's ok with me that he doesn't mind that I am and always will be batshit crazy. It isn't all bad for him, though. Don't feel sorry for him.

So what keeps us here? In the end. School. Not for me, of course. My kids go to great schools. Ohio can never compare as long my children have better futures here.

I love  you, Ohio. I miss you, sister, most of all. I miss you, house. I miss you, neighbors. I miss you crazy neighborhood guy who walks around with no shirt on looking scary as fuck but is really just looking for a few shiny things on the sidewalk. I miss you, 2 minutes away Walmart. All my childrens memories are there but we will make more. We already have.

Pecans for Moms.

Just a little backstory first:

You may or may not have noticed that I tend to blog sporadically. My Mama likes to read my blog and this tends to get on her nerves a little. (Hi Ma!) So, in her infinite wisdom, (Love you, Ma!) she thought of a great idea for a little inspiration. Something to just getting me writing.

 Did I mention my Mama works at a pecan factory? Well she does, she is a Pecan Afficianado. (I totes just coined that Title.) I digress. In all her smartiepantsedness she thought it would be a great idea if I tried out all the pecans they have on the farm and did a review of them. Like Best to worst sort of thing.

Obviously I have yet to do it, but in honor of Mother's Day I shall eat all of the pecans I can. Pure Torture. (So Not, the little buggers are delish.)

Now, when you are doing some serious pecan cracking you need the proper tools. My Mama knew this and sent a Texan Nut Sheller, yes the actual name, along to help me out. You will see it in the photo below. These are serious business so don't be playing around with them if you get one. Word?

I started with the Western Shlay, the name  just caught my eye, it SHLAYED me... no? OK. Well then that one wasn't as tasty as I'd hoped. The meat (technical term for insides or part you eat) was really soft and the color was a soft brown, very appealing. I wasn't thrilled with it though. These are are kind of small too. I would say these would be good for carmelizing or cooking in a way that would bring out the flavors more.

While we were doing our taste test Krhystal stopped by so of course:

For now that is all I have on the pecan front. I actually had intended to have the whole thing done for Mother's Day but, well, I mean... things happen. I didn't. Stop bothering me about it.

I am going to go all American Idol judgey on these pecans. Stay Tuned.

-Trish

Movie Sunday

I have a few recommendations in case you are looking to watch a movie on this fine Sunday after Christmas or any Sunday, really.

First Home From the Hill. It's a 1960 story about a town with secrets. A very young, but still kind of tan, George Hamilton is a spoiled rich kid. The very handsome Robert Mitchum plays his father and rich man of the town. Georage Peppard is the illegitamate son that saves the day. ( Also very handsome in his day.) Check it out, you will love it.

IF you're more interested in something a little newer then we have the tale of a silkie that the sea spit out. Ondine is a love story, perfect for a Sunday afternoon. The beautiful Irish accents hooked me from the start. Colin Farrel plays a fisherman that catches a beautiful woman in his net and his life changes in some very strange ways. His little daughter steals the whole show, she is smart and witty and, of course, Irish.

Happy Sunday to you.

Apple and Cheese Torte

Easy Peasy Cheesy Apple Torte

• 1 Pillsbury pie crust
• 2 lbs ish of apples
• 1/3 of a cup of sugar
• 2 tbsp. unsalted butter
• Sharp or Super Sharp Cheddar cheese
• Preheat oven to 400 degrees

First you are going to want to peel and cut up the apples. I think this is a preference thing so I am not going to give you any size or shapes standards. Second, melt the butter and pour it over your apples then add the sugar and mix it all up. Lay the pie crust out on the cookie sheet. Put the apple mix in the center, leaving about a one inch edge all around. When you're apples are piled high fold that edge in half and give it some pinches here and there.

Like so:

Put that loveliness in the oven an let it cook for about a half an hour or until it's looking pretty golden. Take it out and add the cheese over the top of it and pop it back in the oven.

Let the cheese melt and  !VIOLA! 

 DELICIOUSNESS!!!

Then make yourself a glass of wine and blog about it while enjoying the successful flavors.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Sharing is Fun.

I found a cute blog link started by Little Miss Momma. Cute name, huh. I now know a few things about her, like her blog name is very appropriate as she is a little pixie at 4'11". I know that because she wanted full disclosure for all of her new BFF's. So she's having a party over there at Little Miss Momma and I just invited myself. Hope that's o.k.

So you, person reading this... Mom, Am, Stace.

A list of 10 things I feel you should know if we're going to be BFF's:

1. I'm a cryer. There really is no telling what could make me cry... Anything from Oreo commercials to Taylor Swift songs. I mean it happens at random moments so I can't be specific for you. Just be on the lookout is all I'm saying.

2. I do embarassing things like laugh super loud and express myself through dance and song at random moments. Again, I never know when this could happen so just be aware.

3. Although I have no illusions that I am a good vocalist, I sing at the top of my lungs in the car and in the shower. I have also been known to sing some karaoke.

4. My Itunes holds exactly 10.1 DAYS woth of music. I love music. I know, everyone does right. No... I don't think you understand, I Love music. It moves me in a way that I can't even express to you. I do not discriminate either. It is all welcome...except Screamo. I mean I really did try but, I just can't get on board with that.

5. I have a PenPal. She is probably the only person in this world that can pick out my penmanship in a line up. This is important because you might get jealous when I won't let you read her letters but you can bet your knickers that I will read them in front of you, laughing hysterically. She's also funny so bring your A-game.

6. Did I mention that sometimes I am not nice simply for the comedic value of it?

7. I am a people watcher.

8. I'm a little bit damaged goods so I won't always believe you when you say I look nice, but I am working on taking compliments. Actually, I'm working on a lot of things. In the meantime, my sense of humor makes up for the lack of confidence.

9. If our kids argue about something and come to us to solve the problem for them I will stop them in their tracks and tell them to figure out a solution or they can not play together. I like to call that character building.

10. I love gifts... and surprises. If someone would like to tell my husband this little gem, that would be great. I kid, I kid... but seriously...pass it on.

A Tale of Two Perms

I was 8 years old in 1987. The year of the spiral perm is how I refer to it. That Summer my mom agreed to let me get a perm. I had to walk myself over to her hairdresser friends house and she would do it for me. As I remember it, it was  pretty hot Summer day but there was no way I was not making the trek to this woman's house for my perm. The burning and smelly chemicals didn't even phase me. When it was all done I skipped home, sweating my butt off.

So.

Today, I took my 9 year old in to Fantastic Sam's in the Chestnut Commons. ( Great group of girls that work there, you should check it out.) We had every intention of getting her a perm. We spent an hour before that Googling all different types of perms so we knew what we were doing. The young lady seemed reluctant to touch her baby fine hair. THe whole time she was doing it, she had this look of terror on her face. I really don't think all that was necesary, I wasn't nervous, I mean it wasn't life or death- it was hair! Anyhoo, Abby was great. She sat for the hour and half and drank her juice box and was cool as a kitten.

I am so happy to report:

You Have to Try This One!

I am all about making some home-made gifts this year. If you don't like home-made gifts, just let me know and I will be sure and not give you a present. (Yes, I am passive aggressive.) Seriously though, not to go on a tangent here, I always feel like people appreciate things you make for them less, when in fact they should be more grateful that you took the time to do something extra special with your own two hands. I mean really, people! That is so not what I intended this blog to be about.

Ok, moving on.

I am super excited about this one! I think it's my favorite thing I have seen around the internet for years and never made. last night I spent hours tearing apart a book, yes you read that right. I tore it until it was nothing. It was an old I have had since high school and I already read it so just relax, Amber.

This is what I got in return though:

Beautiful, right!

Now what you're looking at here is a first draft. I learned a few things. One, you're using hot glue so use your fingers as little as possible. Having a pencil to use for pressing the cones down is very necessary. Two, Definitely make sure you do the step that instructs you to cut the end off the inside layers because your little circle won't cover the ugly tips at the center otherwise. Make sure when you roll them, you make the bottom tiny and not large, they are much prettier that way. It took me a few tries to get it just right, this wreath is made with the cones that didn't make the cut on the pretty scale so can yoy imagine how pretty the next one is going to be?! Make sure you roll it so that the page number is not in the visible part of the cone, I didn't like seeing the page numbers on my finished wreath. Just a few tips, I hope they help.

I also have seen a lot of decorating of them. I like them plain but if you google "paper wreaths" you will see a lot of ribbon and glitter. Not my style, but I think I will add some paint or watercolor to the edge to age them a little.

The tutorial is on a blog called BagsandBuds & Fobulous! The Tutorial is here. If you try it, I want to see your pictures. I will be making many more so maybe you will get one for Christmas, too!

As a sidenote, while I was making these I was watching/listening to the Artist Den on the Ovation channel. Great show with good music. Today is Amy Mann, Glen Hansard and Crowded House. mmhhmm. Crowded House was very good, actually. I enjoyed it. I'm not a big Amy Mann fan, though... and I don't think that's how she spells her name but I don't care so don't correct me.

As Sammy would say- Peace and One, Ya'll!

Anthropology Can Suck It!

As we all know I read lots of blogs. A few months ago I came across a number of blogs with their own versions of this Necklace:

I know, Pretty right!

Anyhow, so I browsed around and took a look at the "how I did it" on this blog and a thread on Craftster.

Then I made my own.

I tore apart some fake flowers from the dollar store and then reassembled them the way I wanted. Bought the pearls, wire and clasp at Pat Cataan's for about 15 bucks all together, but I also have tons of pearls, wire and clasps left over so all in all it cost me about ten bucks to make it. Yeah, it's  fifty-six bucks at Anthropology.

I like mine better.

I am Thankful for the Internet

I made a whole Thanksgiving meal today. I know what you're thinking, but I did not use one single box of anything. I made it all from scratch. Yeah. Me. The point is that without sites like the following, it wouldn't have been possible So yes, This Thanksgiving I am thankful for the internet.

Here are the recipes I used:

• Apple Butter Pumpkin Pie
• How to make Turkey Gravy
• Pecan Cheesecake
• Addictive Mac and Cheese
• Herb Chicken Rub

I used everything pretty much as it is in the recipes. I am not an idiot so I adapted some stuff to my liking. Like I used more Apple Butter and less pumpkin than that recipe called for and I didn't use the Gruyer cheese (Surprisingly, they didn't have it at Walmart... No not surprising at all), I just used another kind of cheddar and some Manchego cheese I had. (DELICIOUS!) That was the biggest hit of the day, the kids went crazy for it, like literally, I had to subdue them after they took the first bite.

I have no idea who all these ladies are but I am thankful for them also.

OK but this is how I know I am... growing. I made it all and then some and I didn't mess up one single thing. Usually I end up apologizing for my lack of culinary skills at any family meal, holiday or not, but not this one. Not one single thing went wrong. Oh that's not true. I didn't make the yams at all and I forgot cranberry. But I digress, everything I MADE turned out beautifully and I couldn't be more proud of myself. That might sound a little arrogant, but anyone that knows me knows that I don't cook and when I do I mess something up so yes, I am proud of myself.

A few shots of the star of the day.

And Ali doing my dishes. I am thankful for Ali too.

Ever Had One of These?

This week was super rough. Abby has had a persistent fever since Tuesday. Doctors in the hospital emergency clinic were of no help, tests galore and then a not really sure but here's some Zythro-something... manage her fever.

Okie dokie.

I am not going to feel good about sending her back to school unless the fever is gone. That would really be bad parenting. So here we are 2:00 in the morning fever raging on and we are just trying to "manage" it. Thank you medical expert.

On a good note there have been some things that are good. Abby being home with me all day everyday has been Fabulous. We hang out, watch shows together, sew together, nap together ( love the naps) and best of all she lets me hold her and give her kisses which equates to heaven in my book because my 9 year old isn't letting me do that very often these days. We made trees together, too. She stuffed, I sewed.

I have now come into my own as a Domestic Goddess of sorts. OH no. Nonononononononononono, You miss understand. The house is still a mess. BUT. Now I can vacuum in style. I am the proud owner of a Dyson 17 or something. (The technicals aren't the point, ok.) Does anyone have one of these puppies? OMG you have not vacuumed unless you have vacuumed with one of these. They actually bounce and move and the cyclonic filter system that guy on the commercial is talking about is no joke. NO JOKE.

Ella is being wonderful. She made two stories with illustrations tonight. One is called The Shape Story. It's about a circle that changes into different shapes. The second was The Story with No Words. It's about vampires that cry a lot. Genius.

Speaking of genius, I discovered a great blog with art projects for kids catergorized by artists that are known for the techniques. Yes, genius. http://www.artprojectsforkids.org/ Check it out. It's all very simple and the projects are very easy to do with your kids.

Let's see what else?

Well I tried uploading pictures but Blogger won't let me. It's about as useful as doctors.

A Friday...Unedited.

Took a field trip to the Playhouse Theatre in Cleveland. Good stuff.



I wore my Kelly's.

Cleveland

It's not Broadway but I like it.

PlayHouse- Ohio Theatre

They were great and answered questions about the puppets.

 Mermaid Theatre of Novia Scotia, Canada

Cleveland

Shortly after this she was out.

When we got back we went to dinner at Quaker Steak