memories collage

The catalyst for this creative therapy challenge is
what's your happiest memory.
I have
so many,
I can't
really say
this one or
that one is my absolute happiest. They're all interwoven and
mixed together, some I'm not even sure when they were, some
are more feelings than exact memories. The images on the
collage wrap around to the back, and the journalling is
essentially a big long list of happy memories--a "count your
blessings" kind of list, and there were more, many more, but I
ran out of room. Look, being easily amused and hard to offend,
I've got a lot of happy, okay??? :)

Redemption and a little bit of art stuff

So, #1 and #4(sons) are into
this game called Redemption. It's a Christian card game, but it's
a little weird in that you're "battling" another person in order
to save "lost souls." Anyway, #1 hosted the state tournament
at our church, and I got to be the responsible adult to hang out
with them all day. And by "hang out," I mean, put out clothing
for the clothes give away we have there, and sit in the kitchen
with dd and #1's girlfriend.

Hadn't made any ATC's for a LONG time, but the girls got me going,
and the dd made SEVEN collages! That girl was having a party!
The Star Trek one cracks me up.


Well, okay, so I didn't say they were particularly good ATCs,
but they're not totally stink.
(Okay, had to take this one out for a submission! :)
Look at
little Mary Pickford--doesn't she make a sweet fairy? (dd's)

This one is a riot. Good old "The Old Star Trek!" Gotta love it. :)

card challenge

I'm really NOT a card maker, but Christie has a little challenge
going, and the colors are great, so I gave it a go. It's Basic
Grey, SEI, and some other paper, a couple of Stampin' Up stamps,
Old Paper Ranger Distress Ink, and Timber Brown StazOn.
Brown grosgrain, etc. Hey, it may not look like much to you,
but as far as cards go, this is pretty good for me. Something
about cards just makes my brain stop functioning on any creative
level at ALL.

It's my own pet "block." If anyone would care to adopt it, please
feel free to contact me.

introducing the amazing Zoltar!

Here he is, the chicken who would be a person.
Raised in a house by a well-meaning foster family,
this fine bird had a difficult time adjusting to
country living. (Face it, Kathleen, you warped him
for life!) He has repented of his unnatural interest
in inanimate objects, such as water guns, garden tools,
etc., and decided that life among the henny penny
is alright. He's quite handsome and friendly--never
once had to meet the business end of my work boot
or broom.

However, he remains somewhat taken aback at the
notion of living in a barn.

Zoltar still comes to the back door, and walks right
in if it's open. If not, he knocks. Loudly.

I'm not even joking.

Anyway, the art room is rearranged, and essentially clean.
This is a fantastic feat, believe you me. Found some really
nice stuff, too--it was kind of like Christmas.

Number 2 son said (after helping me move tables and such):
"I'm pretty sure dad doesn't know you have all this
stuff. If he did, surely he'd make you get rid of
it." This boy is a smarty pants.

And puh-leaze. Not only does dh KNOW, he paid for it,
and smiled all the while.

And too much??? That would be like telling
Tipper she's too country.
Or Rhonda that she has too many stamps.
Or Lola that she has too much fabric.
Or the Contessa that she has too much, umm, wait,
she probably does have too much!! ;)

I'm pretty disgusted with the world in general right now.
War, plague, famine, pestilence--you know, the usual. Add
dial-up to the list, and my angst is complete.

Feeling very Ecclesiastes.
Or Marvin the robot, if you know what I mean.

*sigh*

a little vacation

So, we're back from our little vacation in the Ozarks--Branson,
to be exact. The weather was perfect, there were no crowds, and
our villa (yes, it really was called a villa) was delightful.

One night, at 1:00ish am, whilst lying in bed, I heard a curious
"th-fuh-fuh-fuh" sound. Not a bird. Not a moth. What does that
leave, ladies and gentlemen????

Yes, yes, a bat, flitting to and fro above our slumbering heads.



I let it out of our bedroom and into the living room, but instead
of flying out the front door, it seemed more intent on
eavesdropping on the conversation between the 19-year-old son
and myself. So, I stepped outside and called to it sweetly,
"Oh, Mister Bat, come outside."

And it did.

Go figure.

And guess what else? Came home to find that a collage I
submitted to a magazine has been accepted for publication.

Well. A week of firsts.

Twinkle twinkle, little bat,
How I wonder what you're at?
Up above the world high,
Like a tea tray in the sky . . .