I've been tagged

My blogger friend Cindy from 12 Arrows has tagged me for 7 random facts about me. So here goes....Shnikees...what haven't I revealed on this blog already? You already know about my unfortunate brush with superglue in my eyeballs and how I failed a syphilis screening test. You know that I have an unsold house in a different time zone because I moved across the country with my husband to plant an unusual church. In fact some of you have already endured not 7 but 100 random things about me.

So let's see...what could I add to that already ridiculously random list?

My first crush was Peter Jennings. Followed by Kirk Cameron and a kid in my class named Uriah Wells. He had flaming red hair and freckles and I hope like mad that I never bump into him on Facebook. I went on to date 4 red-headed guys. Robb has a red beard, but dark blond hair. Now THAT is random.

I hate to drink milk out of a white Styrofoam cup. I just think it's nasty.

I've never taken an art class. Someday, I would love to.

I'm terrified of masks. I seriously hate them as much as snakes or rubber snakes. They freak me out. I think it's from that episode of Little House of the Prairie that
my mother didn't want me to watch.

My Sunday school teacher when I was 8 years old is still teaching Sunday school. She is a fascinating and forceful lady who has watched hundreds of kids over the years because she deeply believes in them. She was the first person I "met" in church and she gave me my first Bible...a red one. In all my years in churches since, I've never met anyone like her.

Over the years, people have thought that I am much more confident than I really am. There are a few people in my life that are truly great, but I am not one of them. I reveal things about myself on my blog because I think Christians learn from one another's struggles and other people just enjoy voyeurism in general, NOT because I think anything I do is great. Martha Stewart I am not (obviously). Erma Bombeck, maybe.

I used to pick out a theme color for my school supplies each year. In 9th grade it was yellow. That was not a good year.

And now, I crown:

Heidi, Donna, Hannah, Jess, Tammi, Ashley, and Amy. Rock on, girls. C'mon and make it really random... I need a laugh.

FYI

So here's a little insight into why I haven't been posting for a while. The cat is out of the bag now.

Qotd

Jerry Garcia

"Somebody has to do something, and it's just incredibly pathetic that it has to be us."


What do you think? Should we put this up on the wall at Vintage?

Still painting....

Sorry I haven't posted much...I am still painting away and I fall asleep in my chair a very tired chica these days....or rather nights. I look forward to catching you all up on everything very soon, but for now, I am pulling out leftovers for supper and getting ready to take another swipe at it.

Nervous

Painting was on my list yesterday, and so I arrived at the new building bright and early....ok....it was 9:30, but that was as early as I could be there after sending kids out the door and packing a bag of lunch and toys for Charleigh.

The electricity is not on at the new building yet, but it is easy to work without lights. But without air, I had to open the front and back door. I felt vaguely vulnerable with the world just outside my door and me and Charleigh alone, but I pushed that aside and went to work.

Several hours in, I had made good progress and my excitement for sharing it with Vintage was growing. Most of them don't know where the new building is yet, let alone what it looks like inside. It's a surprise we've been trying to keep for them. With my roller full of green paint, I squatted down again in a position that has my knee aching a bit this morning.

The door darkened as a man walked in the open door. I was sweaty and covered in paint, and tried to think about who he might be. Perhaps the owner of the building? I hadn't met him, but Robb had described him as a well-to-do man. Without speaking to me, he began to look at the walls, his eyes following the borders of my green paint. I lifted my eyebrows, with a "Hello?"

"Like this..." he gestured to the walls. "You, okay. Like this. Okay?" His words were clearly distinguishable, but the order and use of them was topsy turvey. I mentally scrambled to determine why the words made no sense. Was his mouth disfigured? Did he speak another language? He kept talking and gesturing, walking around the room and showing me what I had done. "I don't understand," I explained apologetically. But he kept talking. He kept staying. He wasn't leaving.

"Are you here with someone?" I attempted. "Are you supposed to be somewhere? Do you need something? Did you drive here?"

More topsy turvy words. At one point he reached out and put his hand on my shoulder. I began scanning for information if I needed to be afraid. My instincts said only "Maybe." He seemed to know that he was hard to understand, but he kept stringing the words together fully believing they meant something.

"Do you have a wallet?" I asked finally. Without caution, he brought out the wallet, which had money and an ID inside. I saw a name and an address that I didn't recognize, but couldn't be far away. I also began to observe the brand of his polo shirt and the gold and diamond ring on his hand. He was at least 60 years old, and not frail.

"Like this" he demonstrated again, making a gesture like two hills. "Two." He was getting frustrated. I began to suspect that he had had a stroke at some point and these were the only words he had access to. But I wasn't confident that he would fully behave himself if I upset him. I began to guide him to the front door, gathering my purse and Charleigh.

I apprehended a clerk from the business next to me who was walking by. "This man came into my building but I cannot understand him." I had a sense that he understood what I was saying, and I didn't want to upset him by telling the clerk that I was afraid and needed help. The clerk tried to talk to him, and shrugged. "I don't understand him either." he said and walked on.

I tried again, "Are you supposed to be somewhere?" The man looked at his watch and effortlessly inserted a word he hadn't used up to now, "Damn." He scanned the horizon, as if expecting a ride.

"Ok, I'm going to call for some help now." I told the man. He frowned. "No. Okay. No. No." If I called 911, I couldn't explain to them what was happening without upsetting him. "I'm calling a friend." I told the man cheerfully, as I dialed for Robb, who was scheduled for wall to wall conference calls all day long. He answered.

"Robb, there is a man here. I'm having trouble understanding what he needs."

Confused at first, but clear on the fact that something was not right, he asked "Is he inside?"

"Uh huh."

"Does he speak English?"

"He is white." I was telling him that this was not a Hispanic person asking for directions to the nearest gas station.

It was becoming clear to him that I needed back-up. I could hear his breath in the phone as he began to sprint out of his office building.

"Ok, see you soon!" I said cheerfully as I closed to phone.

I invited the man to sit down on the curb and wait with me. "No. Ok. No. Like this. ok? Two." He nodded, put his hand on my shoulder again, and conceded defeat at making me understand. He started to walk away. With my phone still in hand, I quickly dialed 911 and explained as well as I could what had happened and that I really didn't think that this person was safe out alone.

Moments later, the officer arrived, took my description and went to look for him. Then Robb squealed into the parking lot, amped with adrenaline. Now confident that I hadn't exactly been in danger, I explained what had happened as well as I could. The clerk from next door emerged to fill in some details of his own...now he was so helpful.

It was odd and it was a little sad. I felt bad for the man with the garbled words. But I painted for the rest of the day with the doors closed.

QotD

Albert Einstein

"The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and science."

"When I Was Young"

I am just trying out collage art and this is my second piece. I'm afraid it's a little cliche', but I do like the color palette and the photo. It seemed like such a happy memory, a lifetime ago. I also like the glass on the front.

A.F. Norling

Seriously, I couldn't love this artist any more than I already do. I already blogged about her once before over a year ago, and now I simply must show you her latest work.

Flowers from my garden

Next year, I am going to plant a ridiculous amount of zinnias.

A Simple Exercise:

I saw this on blogger-friend Jess's blog and it appealed to me on this a hectic morn.

September 16, 2008
Outside My Window… the busy sounds of a calm, crisp morning
I am thinking… about how to invest the day.
I am thankful for… resolution for some jarring notes.
From the kitchen… warmed up chicken chili for lunch today and hopefully I'll get around to making cookies...it's been on my list for so long now...
I am wearing… white t-shirt, my wretched but oh so comfortable black velour sweats, and a long brown velour tunic.
I am creating… a pallette of paint chips for the new church building.
I am going… just a little crazy.
I am reading… just blogs for now...and maybe I'll pick up The Life of Pi and feel smart with the other Church Street Book Clubbers.
I am hoping… always, always hoping.
I am hearing… Charleigh singing to herself one of her made-up songs.
Around the house… it feels calm and ready. The new system for stuff is working well.
One of my favorite things… The tall, odd tree at the end of the street.
A Few Plans For The Rest Of The Week:
1. find my mosaic mojo
2. paint something
3. finish cleaning up in the back yard...so many morning glory vines...
Here is picture thought I am sharing…

Dust in a Vacuum

Sorry to those of you who read the Butterfly for crafty stuff, but I'm in one of my thoughtful places recently, due to some situations that have been going on that I can't write about, but break my heart anyway.

So I vacuumed last night. I'm confessing right now that I don't vacuum much. I hate my carpet and I'm a little passive aggressive to it by not vacuuming it. It's just so stinkin' ugly. But with the arrival of the colder nights, I have been wearing socks, which pick up whatever is on the floor...and whatever is on the floor is EEK!

So I vacuumed last night for the first time in a while. And even though the carpet is like the color of dust bunnies, I could actually see a marked improvement....a change for the better.

And that's when it hit me. This is about as much change as I can literally effect on the world. I can clean it or paint it or rearrange it. And it takes almost all the energy I have. The very dailiness of life is so utterly exhausting, not to mention the stuff that happens between flawed human beings.

Here I am, this little pastors wife, trying to make the world a better place. Trying so hard. I could just burn myself out trying.

But then there is God. And he literally never gets tired. He never flops down on the couch and thinks, "Please just turn it all off and let me lie here and be invisible for a while." He does, in fact change people and situations. He seems too slow and too subtle about it sometimes for my taste, but he does in fact change things. And it doesn't stress Him out. He's not wringing his hands, thinking, "Oh now what I am gonna do?" Nope, he is above it all and in it all and handling it all. The buck literally stops with him on single thing from the war in Iraq to how many hairs are on your head, from who'll be elected President to when a little bird falls out of the tree outside my window.

And for that, I am rather impressed with Him. For that, I may step back, take my white knuckles off the wheel, and let Him do what only He can do anyway.

John Fischer's Catch of the Day

When I first met Robb, he introduced me to John Fischer, an author, songwriter, and all around good guy who I appreciate a lot. His books were very formative for us and just this summer, our ladies coffee clatch read 12 Steps for the recovering Pharisee, (like me). I get his daily email and thought I would include it here for those of you interested in the discussion swirling around William P Young's (GREAT) book, The Shack.

Catch of the Day

Real questions
by John Fischer

Okay, I get it now. Many of you have been recommending The Shack by William P. Young to me as a book I would like. Well, I have not read it yet, but I did read a brief interview with the author, and any one who would answer the question, “Do all paths lead to God?” with “No, most roads don’t lead anywhere, but God will go down any road to find you,” is definitely on my team.

Anyone who would ask, “Do all paths lead to God?” doesn’t deserve a straight answer anyway. Such a question is as loaded as the questions the Pharisees asked Jesus all the time. It’s only designed to trap you or at best pigeonhole you. Many Christians have a whole arsenal of questions like this designed to test your doctrinal pedigree. The assumption being, answer these all correctly and you’re in. I don’t even think Jesus would give a straight answer to these types of questions. In fact, Jesus rarely gave a straight answer to any question. He always seemed to send people away scratching their heads. That’s because the kingdom of God doesn’t consist of right answers. You can get all the answers right and not even be close to the kingdom.

Jesus answered the real question underneath – the one people were really asking but didn’t know how or didn’t have the nerve. We need to learn to probe under the surface of the questions people ask. Are they hiding behind the question? Are they genuinely seeking an answer or are they trying to discredit you and justify their unbelief? You might want to refuse to answer a question based on the sincerity or lack of it with which it was given.

Real questions deserve real answers.

Serenity- Significance- Security

Week two of the money series at Vintage was from Luke 12, the rich fool, who looks at all "his" stuff and decides to pull down his storage barns and build bigger ones to hold "his" massive crops and then retire to a life of ease. Too bad he drops dead the night he decides on this project.

Curiously, A pointed out that this is pretty much the American Dream, except for the dropping dead part. I can pretty much see the commercial in my head. And I suppose it's a testimony to how brainwashed I am, but I found myself wondering, in real time, "what's so bad about this guy's plan? " The point of the story was....namely, that, again, we don't own our stuff, we just manage. The Rich Fool was convinced that he owned it all and therefore no longer needed God's provision, but instead, that he could move forward in life without worrying about working anymore or having his needs met.

Aaron made the excellent point that we work for significance (look at all my great stuff, I must be something) serenity (I have enough that I don't have to worry about daily needs) and security (my future is insulated from anything that scares me). These things we strive for will be ours in eternity, but we get mixed up and try to grasp them in this life. I had never thought specifically about the fact that these are things are part of the promise of heaven....just one more way my Sunday School image of halos and harps needed to be de-constructed. These things are good things that God intends for us to have in the right context, just not in place of a relationship with Him. They make poor substitutes for the greater good of the adventure of trusting Him.

I probably talk about money and stuff more than other people I know. It's considered bad manners, a culturally shielded area of our lives that we are allowed to be private about. But what we believe about money and stuff dominates what we do every day of our lives...and therefore, it is very interesting to me. I am extremely interested in believing things that are true about money and possessions. I want to be confident that I didn't waste time and energy in life working for something that I didn't need to worry about. All I know is that "considering the lilies,
how they grow....they toil not, neither do they spin, but Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these" ....you can't fake that. I forget sometimes and find myself toiling and spinning, instead of just walking out my back door and seeing the flowers and the birds and remembering that it matters to God about us.

The Cave of Wonders

This blog is fully devoted to showing the ugly underbelly of things as well as the loverly and creative. And that is why I'm about to show you my garage...a veritable Monica's Closet of insanity. And before you judge, understand that I not only have the yard tools and kid's bikes, I also warehouse an online store (or two really), the makings of a craft business, and oh, yeah, a CHURCH. I double-dog dare you to have so much in such a small space....a one car stall, to be exact. So anyway, I did some cleaning and organizing in there yesterday, which was a sweaty, exhausting job. I still have kids rooms, spice cupboard, pantry and yard, but this house is getting considerably more sane than it has been. (and oh, btw, these pics are before and after...)

Now let's play a game. You name something and I tell you if I have it in there.

What is this bug...

and why do I keep finding them walking across my floors????

When Good Gardens Go Bad

A month ago, we had blazing heat....and I stayed inside. Then the hurricanes began, so I stayed inside some more. This morning, before Ike decends on us, I ventured outside to survey the damages. The moral of the story is ... be careful where you plant morning glories...these are all the products of last year's seeds, which re-seeded themselves. Left unchecked, they have taken over the fences, arbors, the satelite dish and the neighbor's trees.

Lost in the vines: a small rosebush, zinnias, the world's tallest cosmos, and Matthew's shrimp beans.

Couch Contentment

I promised myself I would not post pictures of my furniture moving escapades from the last week, but dang, if it didn't turn out so well, I can't help myself. It turns out God did indeed bring me contentment with my couch. I must confess to my mother, however, that just like I did when I was a kid, I "didn't actually clean," I just "rearranged the junk." I haven't vacuumed or dusted yet...but I will...I promise....

Moving furniture is part of my liturgy. It's weird, I know, but I move things around physically while I think through the hard situations I have been hearing about lately from my dear friends. I can't make any changes in those situations, which might be why it is so cathartic to make some change in my physical surroundings. I think, I pray, I listen to "The Daily Audio Bible" (available free on iTunes, this has been wonderful for me.)

My next exercise...taming the wild jungle that is my garden....

A Moment

Last night, the kids were telling us about how they are all wearing red white and blue today in honor of September 11. They started to ask us questions about that day, and we spent about a half hour telling our stories to them, showing videos and pictures and just remembering that day.

I didn't cry that day. I couldn't, much as I wanted to. But I still cry every year when it is time to think about it.

The kids asked why God let it happen. They are learning that some questions don't have any answers.

Charleigh-ism

This is Charleigh's version of "Pop, goes the weasle."

ready?


"All around the ovary bush, the monkey chased the weasel.
The weasel thought it was all in fun,
Pop! goes the weasel."

Beware the Spicy Thumb

I was making up a quick dinner last night....one of my longtime favorites: Spanish rice. In fact, I like this so much, that for my birthday at least a couple of years as a kid, I asked mom to make me Spanish rice with Lima beans. My siblings hated me. But it was my favorite.

So anyway, I have tried different variations on this dish, all with some success, but I think last nights version was one of my favorites. It goes like this...

In a large skillet-shaped pan (not necessarily a non-stick pan) brown your meat of choice....traditionally hamburger, but last night, I used canned chicken, which was awesome.

add chopped peppers and onions: with hamburger, bell peppers are good. Last night, however, I used a sweet yellow pepper and one small jalapeno. More on that later.

when these have sufficiently carmelized, add two cups of tomato juice or if you like it a bit thicker, tomato sauce. I like the tomato juice and that is what I used last night.

At this point, you will want to add spices. I used a taco seasoning packet, but sometimes I just use chili pepper, cumin, salt and pepper and whatever else looks good.

When I have them and I'm in the mood, I throw in a can of beans. Last night I used a can of black beans that I had drained. I liked the colors with the yellow pepper and the black beans and the red sauce.

Getting hungry? I also throw in corn if I have it. I didn't have any last night, so I didn't.

Lastly, 2 cups of instant rice. Leave it on the burner, but turn it off, stir in the rice, and put the lid on. Leave it for about 10 minutes to let the rice absorb the tomato juice.

And then, if you are feeling really decadent, throw on some shredded cheese...I used sharp cheddar and it was good stuff.

I think this chicken version would be delicious in a tortilla...which is probably going to be lunch today.

It takes about a 1/2 hour to make, and is totally customizable depending on what you have on hand. My mom used hamburger and never added beans or corn. Just use what you've got.

But, one note of caution: apparently, jalapenos will cause your skin to burn. For hours. Or in my case, overnight. I noticed my thumb burning away last night...just under the nail, where I had dragged the seeds out of the pepper. I found it curious and I chased Robb around the house until he agreed to taste it. He was not excited about this at all, but I called him a woosie and he didn't like that much, so he agreed to taste it. It's still hot this morning. So just beware the burning thumb.

Worms and boogers....

*disclaimer: this post may not be suitable for pregnant women. Read at your own risk.


Early in our marriage when we had no money (as opposed to now when we have no money) I was just as creative with meals even when the cupboards were quite bare. Back then, we were traveling back and forth from Staten Island in New York where Robb pastored a church on weekends to Scranton, Pennsylvania where I was finishing my senior year of college. We had an apartment (which you can almost see in the opening credits of The Office) and a parsonage in the City. This is evidence of the fact that there is no balance whatsoever in life...because now I have enough stuff to fill both places and then I didn't have enough to fill either one.

So anywhoo, short on groceries, one night I pieced together fixings for French onion soup for supper...complete with croutons and melted cheese on top. Unfortunately, several bites into it, Robb observed something moving in his soup...turns out mealy-bugs (which begin life as larvae worms and end it like little moths) had infested my crouton stash. Choking and gagging, we made a McDonald's run.

Fast forward 13 years. Oh you think you know how this is gonna go? I doubt it. Remember those tomatoes I bought? For making tomato sauce? Well, a few of them were funky, but i just cut off the bad spots, carefully washing and inspecting them. After chopping, cooking them down, putting them through the food mill to remove seeds and skin, further cooking them down...well imagine my complete horror at seeing tiny worms, very dead of course, floating in my stunningly gorgeous tomato sauce. Apparently, the Dreaded Fly-plague of Northwest Arkansas continues...

Fortunately, I didn't serve this to anyone. I just had several big slurps myself before I realized...

That's probably why, when I went to tuck "a child who will remain nameless, but is absolutely old enough to know better" into bed, I was very sensitive to SOMETHING on the side of the mattress. "Please, please" I begged said-child, "PLEASE LET THAT BE BANANA." Anonymous giggled until tears came, and covered face with hands, while squeaking, "Will that make you feel better?"

Whereupon I screamed bloody murder and told hubby he was up for changing this set of sheets.

He comforted me with this..."I told ANONYMOUS if he/she is going to wipe boogers on the side of the mattress, do it on the side that doesn't show."

Boogers and worms....never a dull moment.

Stuff

So lately, our house has really bugged me. I generally hold to the idea that the way my house looks is an extension of myself...and lately, my house has needed its eyebrows plucked, its roots fixed, a good trim and a mani-pedi. No...let's be honest...it's needed to shower and get out of its bathrobe.

It's no secret that I have a lot of stuff. I am constantly shlepping stuff into this house to either sell or craft with, and I'm not a neat person when I'm doing creative stuff. Apparently, there is a general consensus that I have ADD, which just means that I like to have several things going at once in order to even feel like I am doing anything. I get bored if I'm not doing something. I hate sitting still. Yesterday, the kids were in a good playing groove outside, and Robb was watching the ball-game. I could have read a book, but instead I turned on a movie in my room and changed the furniture around.

But it gets really stressful...all the stuff. (which is why I like my room the best because it feels really simple and edited to only things that I really love.) And in a classic ADD moment, I just went back there and moved a couple pictures around...yup, right in the middle of writing this post. But seriously, stressful. Like if I needed to have company over at this moment, I would simply die because there is no way I could clean up because there is just too much stuff.

And I know, the simple thing is to get rid of some of it. Duh. I did this with my clothes, and you wouldn't believe how nice it is....I get up and get dressed and I only have things in my drawers that I actually like and I actually wear, so the drawers aren't so stuffed full that the drawers jam. It's lovely. I actually get dressed most days instead of ....well, you know...the bathrobe.

Problem is, a lot of what I have is "investments." Stuff I bought to sell. And the way the economy is, it's just selling a little slower. And I switched the bulk of my stuff to etsy instead of Ebay. So instead of being in a pile for a week, it's now in a box or shelf or pile for 3 months or so. It's selling, just slowly (and for more money). So I guess it's essentially a warehouse problem.

Sorry this post is so boring, I'm just trying to work this out.

So we are starting a new series at Vintage on money. We do a series on sex and a series on money every year. This is the second year we have done it, and I guess that means that Robb and I have been getting our financial crap together for a year now. We've paid off some big debts and have lived without consistently relying on a credit card for a year. We have a five-year financial plan that we are chipping away at slowly but surely. Like the clothing thing, this has eliminated a HUGE amount of stress from our lives. And so, I was all ears yesterday. I've been feeling this huge stress of our house for weeks now, and I had come ready to find some answers.

It was based on the story of the shrewd manager in Luke 16. This is a story that fascinates and confuses me because it's essentially about a dude that shorts his boss in order to win friends and influence people. Aaron explained that it is primarily a story that teaches we are managers of stuff, not owners. We are to be faithful with whatever we've got. This resonates deeply with me...probably because very little of what I buy is stuff I intend to keep. I intend to sell it for a profit and trade up. Often, my profit is piddly, and that is also okay with me because I don't want to be so terribly successful that I change our tax bracket and get rich. I just want to earn enough to make it possible for us to spend a day at the zoo once in a while, to buy school clothes, or go out for Sunday lunch with friends. And of course, there is the whole sitting-still conundrum. What else am I gonna do? Clean my house so that I have a constant state of vacuum lines in the carpet? This is truly what I love to do, crazy as it may be.

Donna pointed out yesterday that I should keep a separate blog devoted to my found treasures, which could be turned into a book eventually. This is intriguing because I have found some great things over the years...including a rare lithograph, a 700 dollar diamond (spent a dime on it), a gold wedding band (free, inside a purse), two metal pitchers which I sold to museums, a trophy I sold to a Country Living photo-shoot (I pored over the magazine and never saw it...must not have made the cut), and several eye-popping designer dresses. It couldn't be a how-to book because, quite frankly, I don't know how I do it; I think GOD himself whispers in my ear if I have the sense to listen to Him. It does make for entertainment, for sure.

But if it is true that I'm just managing God's stuff, (and I'm cool with that) and it's true that part of my job as wife and mom is to keep the house in a way that is sane, I need some kind of change in the way I am doing things. I'm not managing as efficiently as I could be. Something is off-kilter.

Dr. Carter used to say that there is always enough time to do God's will. I believe this. I tend to even extent it that there is always enough MONEY to do God's will. And enough energy and enough room in my house. There must be. Otherwise he would give me something different. In fact, I think the point of the story yesterday is that God doesn't promise to give you more money and stuff if you manage your small stuff well. I think maybe, God might bless you with LESS sometimes. That he might entrust us with being poor because we can handle it. I told Robb last night that I was praying that God would either get us a new couch or make me content with the one we've got. "Does he do that????" Robb asked quizzically. I believe he does. I really do.

I have no answers. Sorry if you thought this post was going to end nicely tied up with a pink ribbon. I'm just looking at my overly-cluttered house today trying to figure out how to be at peace with God, myself, my family and my stuff.

Back on Ebay after a 60 Day Hiatus.

So I've spent the last couple of days playing history detective...between a swiss watch with weird etching in the case and the box full o'Barbies...which actually aren't Barbies at all, but rather, some of Barbie's friends and 2 versions of her little sister, Skipper. And while Etsy is perfect to list my rather loverly pair of ceramic chickens, nothing beats Ebay for the uber-specific world of off-beat collectibles. I've just spent the last day photographing doll bums and squinting through a magnifying glass...my job is so weird.

The ultimate Kreepy Babee

found this in the box of vintage Barbies. Hands-down, the scariest doll I've ever seen in my life. What do you think her problem is?

I'm about three days behind...

Seriously, there are about four things I need to cry over and haven't had a chance, three things to have a nervous breakdown about just as soon as I have a minute and one or two things to rejoice over, which is probably creating the sensation of canceling the other two things out, leaving me pretty much just....tired.


And what is the remedy for this behindedness? um, going thrifting, obviously. You see, today I had planned to stay in my pajamas and have that good cry I deserve, but instead the doorbell rang and it was the world's friendliest (and chattiest) termite guy. Now I realize that it's not normal to be friendly with your termite guy, but, well, you just gotta meet him. As soon as I saw him, I realized that good a good cry was off the table, and I must needs go face the day with whatever grace I could muster.

Heretofore, I put on some lipstick and went to the thrift store, which had left me a message that they had two boxes of broken dishes for me. I took along one of my show pieces, knowing they would enjoy seeing it. When they saw the piece, they declared I simply must show at an upcoming craft fair held just around the corner from me in October....just had to make a call to get me an application....just had to run over to the hospital to pick it up...(this was the hospital auxiliary thrift store). At the hospital, I was met with a very professional lady who explained that they would need to see one of my pieces...."No problem, I have one in the car...." She declared it very pretty and that they would reserve a booth for me. Lit up with excitement and only a block away from another thrift store, I walked in, only to find a box of antique Barbie dolls. Now what's better than gambling on 1960s fashion dolls when you have no money and more work to do than is humanly possible? Heck yeah, I bought them! Barbie (or more precisely her friend Casey,) might just pay a bill this week.

At the end of the street, I wavered...go to another store or go home and do that laundry? Yup...I went to another store, where I bumped into the owner of the Heartwood Gallery...who explained they would like to do another show if I was interested? Probably in October? Why yes, yes I would...I already have the doors painted....why not? And at the front desk, I was handed a stack of broken dishes with this moniker....


Yeah, "the Broken Dish Lady" I guess that's me. I'm broke(n) and I dish.

Tulsa Zoo

 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 

 
 

On Monday, we were able to reward the kids for all their help with the art show and for their great efforts at school (already). It's been a while since we have been able to do a fun family day trip, but with Tulsa just two hours away, it was not a bad little trek.

I had no idea that this would be such a quality zoo experience. We have been to a number of good zoos across the country, and this one ranked right up there. The first thing we saw was a highly entertaining interaction between a chimp Momma and her small baby, who kept climbing up ropes, teasing his mommy, whereupon, she would swoop up and grab the baby and bring him down on the floor where she tickled and wrestled him. It was so entertaining, I forgot to take a picture!

Next we came to the elephants, where one of the four was being an absolute stinker...also highly entertaining! We got a kick out of his getting into their water hole and trying to steal the hay right out of the other elephants mouths!

I was very impressed with the number of endangered animals they had there, some with just 50 animals left in the wild.

My next favorite event was in the Amazon rain forest, where signage warned against any open food containers as many animals and birds range freely inside this building. A zoo keeper walks around inside answering questions and giving information about the animals. He gave us some amazing info about the green Anaconda, one of the largest snakes in the world, capable of taking down a bull elephant if it so desires. This one was only half-grown....and already gave me the willies. Unfortunately my camera battery died before I could capture my husband's rapid exit of the building once he discovered bats roosting just overhead.

It was a great day (despite my almost losing my purse) and is a zoo we will definitely visit again during cooler weather, when some of the other animals will be more active.

(and now, I must get back to my fourteen loads of laundry....the dryer is now fixed...just a burned out fuse, apparently.)