Crafty Sunday

Lately searching around the decorating blogs, birdcage hanging lamps have been popping up right and left. I am totally in love. Then I got my Restoration Hardware Coffee Table Book, I would be hard pressed to call that a catalog since it is HUGE. I plan to keep it forever and ever, so the extra expense it must have cost them to bind it like a book, worth it for me,

Anywho, the catalog has a very beautiful birdcage lamp, but since I forgot to play Powerball and therefore didn't win, I can't afford a bijillion dollars for a little ole lamp.

Some of the other ones I have seen are really pretty reasonable, though I can't justify the expense for anything that doesn't have IRS or Property tax in its title.

What to do? Why make it of course.

This is where the stock pile of crapola I pick up at garage sales and such, comes in handy dandy. I had a birdcage. It was gray, which is not in my color wheel. So I waited for the first semi-nice day and went to town with paint. Spray paint, a girls best friend.

Two coats of white primer, two coats of white top coat, and one coat of clear sealer. One freezing cold day with sun. Presto! a white birdcage waiting to be made over into a hanging lamp.

The little chandelier in my office, I already had hanging. I made the ceiling medallion out of a picture fame, vintage dictionary pages, and mod-podge. The chandelier I found at a garage sale for $15.00. Instant glamour for the most mundane tasks, ie: bill paying, selling on ebay, playing Frontierville on facebook. The cord cover I made myself with fabric and a trusty glue gun.

Since I am never sure something will stay where I place it, I didn't want to damage the birdcage in case I needed it for something, oh I don't know, bird related. So I tied the chandelier up inside the birdcage with white ribbon. Since everything else is white, it blends white in. Man, I am clever with words - hahaha!

Then I just hung the whole kit n caboodle right back up.

The birdcage is open weave on the bottom, so the light shines right down on me.

I love it! I love that it was almost free. I think I paid $4.00 for the cage at a garage sale. Sure, its not the pricey catalog beauty but it is pretty spectacular for my humble abode.

On

Off

Beautiful!

Ocean

" But more wonderful than the lore of old men
and the lore of books
is the secret lore of ocean."

H.P. Lovecraft

Baby steps

I have books. Or do books have me? Either way, here they are in a big mess. The library. I love this room.Generally it is filled with the sweet smell of old pages, old tales, old authors. Now it is filled with disarray. Ick. I get the shivers when I see this. You see, I am organizing this room. I know, I know it does not look like any sort of organizing is going on here. In fact, I wonder if I am testing nuclear bombs in this room.

You know the saying "the best laid plans of mice and men" well that is me. I head in here, head held high, direction at the ready. I know what to do, how to do it. The plan for this room.

Then the books work against me. Wait, is that a group of Poe books? Oooooh, I love Poe, I'll just look for a second. No, NO put that down. Yes, that is right, it does go in the poem section. Oh my, I totally love this book, I didn't remember I had it, wow the best part is right about here. I'll just read it right quick. PUT IT DOWN. Oh, that's right, working on the poem section, no sense in reading the best haunted places to stay in New York. Poems, Poems, lets get that poetry section going. Awesome! A first edition of Betty MacDonald, I'd better get a plastic book sleeve on that so it won't get smudges on it. I just find this one section hilarious, I'll just take a quick glance.

NO. step away from the book and get back to alphabetizing the poetry section. Hmmmm! a dog book, I'd better see if it has any ideas about why Bernese Mountain Dogs are so insane. This book has such pretty pictures. PUT IT DOWN.

I love dogs. I had better make a dog section. I have another little brown bookcase. I have dog books. Wait, I have poodles wearing glasses. What a fantastic idea, I'll make a arrangement. Vintage poodles STANDING on dog books. Man, I am a genius.

I'll take apart the library, find all the dog books. Put it all together.

Man, sometimes I am my own worse enemy. Well, baby steps for the organization of the library, baby steps people.

I think I need more dog books. Hmmmmm, I think the used book store is opened tomorrow.

Organization is highly overrated.

What I love

What I love:

The kid - everyone should have one.

The pug - everyone should have one. They come in two colors. Get two. One summer, one winter.

Books - everyone should have lots, just lots and lots and lots and well, lots.

a DVR - all those recorded shows just waiting for me. Bliss!

Gray's Anatomy - Cristina Yang - you slay me every single week. Thank you.

A Coast - pick East or West or somewhere else, just pick and go. Or live.

Surfers - Not a sport for me but man, I love me some peeps on waves.

K-Cups - Thank you for coffee in the middle of the day, middle of the night, morning, mid-morning, early evening, well you get the picture. Coffee makes me me. So does hot apple cider. The cocoa, however sucks. Don't go there. Trust me. I went and it was bad, oh so bad.

Fuzzy slipper socks with big faux fur cuffs - Yep, I rock the fashion here at my own home.

Fireplaces - real or fake - ambiance is the same - Flickery flames and delightful warmth. Makes me think of Little House on the Prairie minus the hard stuff, and the Prairie.

Candles - real or fake - The cinnamon spice makes the house smell like someone baked. Now if only someone would really bake, I would totally add that to the list. Stupid dogs, just refuse to learn anything new.

Holidays on the horizon - Cheesy specials, homemade craft night, the kid being home for many days IN A ROW. Winter looking brighter, at least for a few weeks. Food. Twinkle lights. Santa. Reindeer. Peace on Earth.

My Winter Bed - cozy linen sheets from the early 1900's, six down filled pillows, velvet duvet with a goose down comforter. A crazy quilt stitched in 1871. All laid out on a high four poster bed with me right smack dab in the middle. The bathroom window opened to the night breeze because winter bed is hot, both figuratively and literally.

Eyeglasses - I like sight.

Reduced Fat Wheat Thins - Better than regular Wheat thins. Easy and neat to eat while reading.

Starbucks Red Cups - Coffee is just more festive in red. Everything is more festive in red.

What do you love?

Very loud little voice

So what makes us, well, us?

Is it a combination of things? DNA, parents, peers, experiences? Is it a brain thing? A situation thing? A total ball of mish-mash thing?

When the times get hard, what pulls us through? or not, for that matter?

I believe that DNA makes up a great part of me. I'm stubborn, opinionated, feisty, all things that my Irish background says I should be. Yet, I'm introverted, quiet, moody, all things that my Cancer birth sign says I should be. But, is this all I am? Am I made of anything of my own choosing?

Sometimes I feel like a little sea anemone. Sitting in one place with little tentacles bobbing and weaving, letting bits and pieces weave over me before SNAP catching something. How do I pick what I catch? What I pull into me and decide to keep. Decide to add it to me and change me in a minuscule way. Has it been predetermined? or am I choosing?

A few days ago it was a bad day for me. Little things piling up, big things crashing down. Nerves fraying. Tears so close to the surface. Panic attack even closer. Rain pouring down, it just seemed so gray, so, just so sad.

Walking around the house trying for something to set the ship upright again, I walked past a messy book filled bookshelf in my hall way. The topsey-turvey books didn't lift my soul like normal. They just seemed messy, in disarray, just like me. No cohesiveness, no thought. Before I could even focus on the plan, I grabbed them all out. Shuffled them into an all ready overflowing library. No place to put them. The shelves in here are just as jumbled, just as chaotic. They went on the floor.

The empty bookcase stared at me. The wood shelves, slightly dusty, calmed me. It seemed that one little piece of empty did what an entire day could not. An entire day of searching for something to soothe the chaotic mind. Empty. A place to focus. To regroup. Calmness. The possibilities were endless for this little bookcase. It could stay empty. It could move to the basement. It could leave. It could go back to its original purpose. It could be anything.

Just like me. The chaos that surrounds us, doesn't define us. Just like me being Irish, being a girl, being born under the Cancer sign, being divorced. That is part of me but not the whole me. My past travels with me, not to describe me, but to remind me. To remind me where I have come from, what I have overcome, and what I will become. DNA, family, peers, experiences all play a part but the biggest part, I believe, comes from within. Within us. A little voice, that if it is quiet, will provide the hope and answer we seek. And sometimes, if we are really lucky, the little voice will shout itself hoarse and make us listen.

What happened to the little bookcase? It went back to its original purpose. It holds all the books that my grandfather left to me when he passed on. They are not old, or valuable. They are however, extremely priceless.

On a day when everything seemed hard. DNA didn't come through, nor did the birth sign I was born under. What did come through was a little brown bookcase, a collection of Time Life books and a very loud little voice.

Olive and Herbie wish you a very Spooky Halloween

Happy Halloween

Happy Halloween!

One of the hardest things about living alone, is the Holidays. Oh, not the celebrating of the "big name ones" but the little ones. The ones that involve children, families, neighborhoods. That sort of thing.

Christmas and Thanksgiving are set. Everyone is home for that one.

But Halloween, Easter, 4th of July, my Birthday, the little ones.

When you have a family, especially little kids still in school everything gets celebrated. When you live alone, not so much.

I have decided that this year will be different. I have celebrated and decorated and cooked and crafted and, well, just threw myself into the party mode. I have decided that I am worth the effort.

When I was a kid everything was for "Company." The good food, the nice parents, the fancy dishes, the best of everything. It made you feel that you in and of yourself, weren't worth anything but someone that your parents had known ten whole minutes, were royalty. And as such, were treated just that way.

When I had a kid, I decided not to live like that. We celebrated everything, everyday. Even just Wednesday or Thursday or Monday or a sunny day or a rainy day. Everything involved the good dishes, the nice silverware, music, china, laughter, the joy of family.

After I lived alone it seemed too much effort. After all the dogs don't care if we decorate. It seemed like too much work for just one person.

This year I decided I didn't want to fall into that rut. I'm worth it. Grabbing a couple of carrot sticks and microwaving a Soup-In-The-Hand just wasn't cutting it. Sure I could be done with dinner in about 2 minutes flat, including cooking time, but what kind of life is that? And what am I saying about me? I'm nothing without a family? I'm just nothing? Nope, I wasn't going to go that route. No "Company" rules were going to take over my life.

The good china has come out. Meals are cooked and eaten at the dining table. Music is played. Sure, it is not the same but it is good. I like it. I like the decorating, the way the house feels warmer, cuter, homier. I like the carved pumpkin on the porch. I like the homemade cupcakes sitting on their stand. I like the smell of soup in the crockpot. I like it all.

The beginning of the saga

Yesterday was photo day for the dogs.

Time for their "Dress Up" Halloween debacle. Fun all around, I tell ya.

I know, I know, dogs don't like to be dressed up. But they do like food and water so they humor me.

I can't show you the final product yet, since I used it for the Halloween card for my kid and it has not arrived yet. Trust me, when I say it was not easy, and no one enjoyed themselves, not even a tiny bit.

Olive, the small exceptionally dim witted Bernese Mountain Dog, and Herbie, the small will do anything for food pug, were the cast and I, the lovely, caring, and oh so patient, was the director.

Like any good director. I had a vision. They like the two dim witted dogs they are, did not. Well, they may have had a vision, but it was not MY vision and therefore I was not considering it. They were hell bent that not only was I considering it, I was DOING it. Battle lines were drawn. The gauntlet was thrown.

Small chicken dog treats had been purchased, two Goodwill Halloween outfits had been obtained, the living room had been redesigned and it was go time.

Olive, masquerading as Ms. Pumpkin and Herbie, camouflaged as Mr. Ladybug, were dressed. I had the camera at the ready. Dog treats were in plain sight.

So far, so mediocre.

Olive decided that it had always been her dream to catch a ladybug. Maybe not a 17lb one, but sometimes a girl has to work with what she is given. How, Olive knew not, did it come to be that a ladybug was perched right next to her? In her sight, her smell, her couch? Glory be, Halloween is awesome, she thought. I will just politely nudge the small cute ladybug, just a little nudge to show how much I care. To show that I am indeed a lover of all nature, living and the deer poop kind.

Her nose moved closer, her eyes were closed in total love, her tail was whipping back and forth in delight, her pumpkin stem standing straight up on her head like a lighthouse. Her head moved.

It touched the ladybug.

A small sigh escaped her.

Ladybugs are awesome, she thought. Ladybugs are ........ WOW! big, fast, and pissed, she thought, as Mr. Ladybug had had enough of the photo shoot and had launched himself right on her chest.

Mr. Ladybug wasn't sure who was at fault for this most horrible of days, but he was going out on a limb and guessing the big pumpkin next to him had contributed to a large part of it.

The pumpkin was surprised, surprised to be wearing a ladybug on her chest. A ladybug holding on to the stem, the stem of the pumpkin. The pumpkin stood up, the ladybug dangled, still holding tightly. Nature had gone wild, JUST WILD, I tell ya.

The director was, what the hell was the director doing. Oh that's right, rolling on the floor with laughter.

Thanks

Have you ever run across a saying that is the EXACT way you feel?

Some random words put together in just the right way to finally give you meaning to your life? To surround you with a big fuzzy blanket. For you to say "OMG that is exactly correct."

I have.

Yesterday.

I have probably read, like a MILLION books, magazines, cereal boxes, billboards. All have enlightened me somewhat.

Yesterday, the whole friggin' sun landed in my living room.

Thank you Lee Child for giving me the sentence that has already changed my life.

Are ya ready?

"Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the face." I know, brilliant!

I have carried this around with me for two days now, two delicious days. Two days of feeling that finally I have been given the meaning of life. Not just life but MY life. My planned life. My fully planned, well thought-out, paved with nice new pavement, life

All day, I laugh and giggle. I had the plan for tea at Fred Meyer, all sold out. I like one kind of butter, not being carried in my neck of the woods any longer. Planned and Punched. Planned and Punched.

This has taken such a load off of me. I feel lighter, more carefree. Plus, it is just fun to say the sentence over and over again. Plan, punch, Plan, punch.

So, thank you Lee Child (and Jack Reacher), which by the way are absolutely great books and not just because he gave me the true meaning of life, but because he is a very good writer.

Thanks

Just thanks!

The path

So I'm here now. Where was I?

Life is hard. Single life is harder.

For a while I thought I just can't get the hang of this. Not quite sure what the "this" was, but it sure seemed I was missing out on something. It seems that the life I see other people leading made sense, had purpose, a direction of some sort. I seem to be twirling in circles, aimlessly, looking everywhere and finding nothing.

What was wrong with me?

It has slowly been dawning on me. I AM doing it. I do have the hang of this. Still have no idea what the "this" is, but I seem to be corralling it. Taming it. Calming it down. Calming me down. Hoping to eventually see what the "this" is.

Is it life? Is it the future? the past? me?

Over the last few weeks, I have found that the "this" is the here and now. The right this very minute. That is what I was missing. I kept thinking that tomorrow, next week, next month, it would be easier. It would make sense. The secret door would open and the grand prize would be revealed. I would win. Something that was better than a 10% off coupon that I receive from Safeway for a gas purchase. Something wonderful. Oh, man I couldn't wait.

It didn't arrive. I'm pretty sure the secret door opened but it just lead to another hard road. Another blind corner. Another truck barreling down on me. Another, another, another.

This, is, well, just life. I'm not doing it better or worse than the people I watched. I'm doing it different. Maybe the path I walk is harder, how the hell am I suppose to know. This is my path. The only path I have the full story on. The problem with people watching is that you just see the surface. You fill in the blanks, make the story line, You, not them. You can build them up with no problems with the Cinderella life, but you have no idea the baggage they carry. The weights that surround their necks.

That is what I was missing. That is what I didn't see. The years are going by. I am growing and changing. Doing better, doing worse, but more importantly doing. I have friends going through what I went through, almost three years ago now, I see the struggles, the disappointment, the fear. I remember it, oh my do I remember it well! I can help. I can be there. But ultimately it is something you go alone. It is something that you need to find in yourself. You have to travel the path, and while other people can go with you for a while eventually you will need to stand alone.

That is what I have figured out. Stand alone. Be proud of that, know that the life you are leading, good, hard, excellent, is just what you are suppose to be doing. The people around you are the supporting cast, but you, my friend, are the star.