I'm Sorry, So Sorry

SUNS LOST AGAIN!

A Little Bit Of This and A Little Bit Of That

As promised, some time ago, projects from Tim Holtz's class!

My Daughter, Amber and Me

We did not plan, at all, to wear the same thing.

Like Mother, Like Daughter!

Shower Curtain I made from a vintage quilt for our remodel in Pinetop, AZ

Grandson, Chandler, playing one of his many favorite games.

My Parent's Bed Minus One of My Parents

It will soon be occupied by them both as my mom will, once again, be released from rehab and sent back home. My dad refuses, once again, to choose to move to Assisted Living. I respect his wishes, but still grieve that there is no easy answer for them. It is hard learning to let one's children make their own choices, and it is just as hard sometimes to accept one's parents' choices.

Hey, by the way, mom would be very upset that I took a picture of her bed unmade. If she was at home this would never have occurred.

Sweets For The Sweet

Up Close and Personal

In Abundance

Thought I would show you a little of the sweet pleasures in my life. I have a very difficult time with my work. I do not like it at all. Yeah, right! I get to create gifts each month for corporate thank you deliveries. This is one of the things I created for May. A pot of jumbo lollipops , that are just delicious, growing in a glass vase wrapped in an old fashioned bun napkin. The tag reads Spring Has Sprung. The napkin is embroidered with little pink flowers and is edged in lace. I found these while on an antique buying trip in Round Top, TX. If you like antiques, google Round Top, TX. and go to the Round Top or Warrenton market. You will see more sweets for the antique and junk lover's eyes. Oh how very sweet it is. Am thinking I will start posting some of my creations on Etsy. Mike Putman, I want to take your class at Mystic Paper on the 24th, but am not sure we will be home from Pinetop. I will be signing up, if at all possible. My Favorite Presentation

Yesterday All My Troubles Seemed So Far Away

Weeks ago, at blog class, we joked about posting what we ate for breakfast, lunch or dinner. I did not really know what the jokes were about because I was totally new to this blog thing. Well, now the joke will be on me. Can't help it. Yesterday, as I went out on my back porch to eat my salad, I stopped dead in my tracks after setting down my plate. I loved the view. My plate is one of a few pieces I found while antiquing across country,with my best TN friend Suzi. We have been best friends since college and both share the same passions. We frequently ( but not frequently enough) indulge ourselves with these cross country trips, laughing, eating, drinking, antiquing, sharing, and just plain feeling like we have run away and joined the circus. The plate my salad was on stirred up memories of all these latest wonderful times. The salad looked mighty tasty as well, I might add.

Then my eyes traveled across my flower bed immediately in front of my table. Heaven, I'm in heaven. Where else in the world would I have rather been, at this moment? A perfect lunch, a perfect moment in time.Thank you, God.

Now, if I could have only eaten the plate!

How Much Will $160.00 Get Me?

Definitely not an orgasm!
No photos allowed!

I had never done this type of thing before. Well, at least not with a woman. I had experienced it many times with a man. After all, I am 60 years old,widowed once, so I have been around the block a few times. I was a bit nervous when I made the arrangements, on the phone. I was using a different service and just did not know about the reliability. In fact, after the first time I called, I ended up cancelling all together. Got nervous. Decided it was silly to be nervous. I needed to do this for myself. It was important to my well being. Emotionally I needed a little kick! Called back and rescheduled. Felt like being a little bold and different. Should have known not to cancel the first time. Wish I had not chickened out. Now I would be told I would have to wait a month to experience this with a woman. Guess women with women are more popular than I thought. Oh boy, I'm excited now. What will she look like? Will she be kind? Has she much experience with this type of thing? Well, that's a silly question. I am having to wait over a month to be with her. "CeCe, put it out of your mind. Wait till it is nearer time to start thinking about this", I tell myself. I do put it out of my mind until the day arrives for the fun. I told myself it would be fun. Women are strange creatures sometimes. They try to trick themselves. Yesterday, April 14, 2008, finally arrived. It will go down in my memory. I wasn't sure where the location was. As I said earlier, I had never been there before. Found it relatively easily but I was nervous. Hum, debit cards accepted. This industry has come a long way. Did I mention I was nervous? As it turned out I could not even use my debit card to pay because I tried five different pins so the machine refused to let me try anymore. The service did not take American Express so I could not put it on my husband's credit card. Guess, come to think of it, only fair I pay for my own entertainment. Alright, put it on my credit card. Wait some more. More nerves. Shown into room. Alright, not exactly the most comfortable, inviting of surroundings. I could definitely design a more appealing environment for this type of entertainment. Decidedly too sterile- needs a lot more femininity. Just as I am pondering what in the world I am doing this for she comes in. Attractive, young, very stylish. She is wearing pointed black heels. Very pointed black heels. Sexy. I ask her if her shoes hurt. She smiles a lovely smile. She tells me actually they are very comfortable . Then she reveals it is the first time she has worn them and she kicks them off and smiles again. Small talk begins. After all I have thirty minutes scheduled with her. She tries to make me comfortable before she approaches. She has done a pretty good job of this. My nervousness has lightened. She begins with my breasts. Things are going well. I manage to even make a joke. She smiles again. Then without further ado it happens. This is NOT what I had envisioned by being with a woman. I almost fly up in the air from pain. She tells me to relax. I try. It happens again. Am I really paying $160. for this? Why? The third time I am ready to get dressed and leave. She tells me she is going to get another woman for me. "What?, Is something wrong?" I ask. I tell her I have never had this pain happen before. She mumbles something like she does not want to say there is something wrong. She just wants me to try it with someone else. "Someone else? Hey, anybody else or not at all, thank you very much!" I am lying on this bed wondering if something is terribly wrong with my body. I know I have gained some weight, my knees now sag, my toenails need doing and a few other imperfections are available, but goodness, I do not deserve this kind of treatment or humiliation. Just as I am about ready to dress and run new woman appears with first woman. Well, well, another attractive one. Older than the first but this can have advantages. Older women are more experienced than younger ones---well, sometimes. I am hoping that is the case here. Now I have two women in the room. Maybe I will stick around to see what conspires. Introductions are made. New older woman is now giving original woman directions and show and tell is going on. Show and Tell? Show and Tell? What am I doing here? Why did I think being with a woman would be better than being with a man? Why? Why? Why? Surely my thirty minutes is almost up? Then, it is over in a flash. No pain. It is just as I remembered when with former men. My lesson is learned. I will not just go to any unknown person for my annual pap smear ever again, regardless of how stylish their shoes might be. Sometimes modesty and wanting to be with a woman is not the best decision. Sometimes experience is the most important consideration, not gender.

I Feel Lucky

Oh Me

Oh My

How Sweet

How D i i i i i i i i i i i ning on creativity appeals to my taste buds!

What a fun morning spent at a Tim Holtz class sponsored by Mystic Paper. I originally did not expect to be in town for this event. I was lucky enough to sign up for Industrial Grunge just yesterday. All the other classes were full. Before class, and after seeing the samples of the other items being taught the rest of the day and night, my heart was heavy and light at the same time. Heavy because I wanted to take the jewelry class so bad I could hardly stand it. Light because again, I felt so lucky to have gotten to attend even one of Tim's classes. Forget the projects ( but don't!) the personality of Tim, in and of itself, was worth the cost of the class. I highly recommend anyone who has the chance, take a class from him. Don't worry about what it is, just sign up as soon as you have the opportunity. I asked if I might purchase a kit for the button bracelet being taught. :( :( :( No more kits. The class had been created strictly for Mystic Paper. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-- Looked and looked at the sample. Nearing time for the next class, as many students for the jewelry class were arriving, I was still looking when I happened to say out loud how much I loved the bracelet. To cut to the chase, one of the girls signed up for the class expressed the willingness to work out a deal with me, for the bracelet. Her favorite was the necklace ,so viola, paid her to make the bracelet for me! Now I will have the bracelet too! How lucky am I???? Smile. I felt like I had just had my name pulled out of the box for the best prize being given away, and there were some pretty cool door prizes Tim supplied. Now, if all of this was not enough, I got to reconnect with Judy, of My Artistic Side. She was in my blog class taught by Mike Putman. Mike, need to learn more. I want to learn how to link, within my blog posts, to other sites. Judy did this for me and I would love to return the favor. Want to have an advanced bog class? I have so much to learn----like not taking a camera to class with a dead battery! The pictures I took, with my tiny camera, are not good, not good, not good. Guess I still feel lucky---there is that lucky word again---to have had two cameras with me so I could take any pictures at all. I will be posting pictures of my creations and my signed apron once my best camera is charged. To think I have been considering buying one of the new, expensive, single lens beauties and I cannot even be bothered checking to see if my camera is charged. Yep, that's part of who I am, and yep, I still feel lucky!

From My Point Of View
As a little child:

The worst thing I ever did was steal a packaged set of four glass baby doll bottles from the dime store. I knew it was wrong. I wanted them. I searched for hours looking for just the right picture to post so you could see just how cute and special these bottles were. They were packaged in cellophane. I think there was cellophane that many years ago! I never found the picture that matches the one in my mind. I can still see them so clearly. I can remember paying for something. As I recall, I did not have enough money to purchase them along with what ever else it was for which I paid. I don’t remember the other item I bought. I just remember the bottles. I shoplifted. That is what it is called. I did not do it for the thrill of shop lifting. I did it because I wanted those bottles. The little lines on the glass showing the amount of formula, the little blue and pink plastic rims, the rubber nipples. They were perfect. My baby needed to drink out of cute bottles. I wanted to feed my baby out of cute bottles. I don’t remember asking my mother for more money to buy them. I would guess I did not want to risk her saying no. You see, if she said no and then I took them she would later see them and I would be in big trouble. Never did I realize I would be in big trouble ( at least the kind of big trouble a little child knows ) for all my life, simply because of my decision. Is that not the way it often is? Every time I see a picture of a celebrity ,or anyone for that matter, on television news, caught for shop lifting, my mind plays back my shop lifting experience and I feel grateful. Grateful that I was a child, grateful that I was not on the news and grateful my dime store shop lifting day ended a very long time ago.

Joy To The World

Vintage Sheet Music

Perfect Vintage Hand Crocheted Tablecloth

Vintage Hand Crocheted Sweater Coat With Original Directions

Sheet music:$1.50

Tablecloth: $30.00

Sweater coat: $3.00

Joy in the hunt and find?PRICELESS

I find my best days are those in which I remember to do something joyous for myself.

Yesterday,after a trip to my darling hairdresser, and before going to visit my mom in the hospital ,I drove through the Evergreen Historic district in Mesa. I was looking for a particular house,Kim, of Mystic Paper, had mentioned to me. I did not find the house but I did stumble upon an Estate sale in the neighborhood. I stopped. I could not help myself. Sort of like the old saying,"The devil made me do it." To my joy, I found the above items and my heart was singing. I plan to use the tablecloth as a window covering for our cottage we are renovating in Pinetop, AZ. Different pieces of vintage lace will be hung on all the windows and doors. Pictures of this will follow in the future. One of my favorite colors is red and I do crochet and knit. How could I ever leave this darling coat behind for a mere $3.00? I also reinvent clothing, so to speak. Pictures of this will also follow in the future. And last, but not least, the vintage sheet music which I staged the picture of in my garden, as the title reads, Songs of the Soil. Three treasures of joy. Today, for joy, I posted! How about you? What was your joy today?

This Is Dedicated To The Ones I Love

I did not write the following. I wish I was this wise.
In my life, I have referred to this anonymous writing many times. Funny, I met someone new this week and I knew she needed to read this. I captured it from my files for her. Before passing it along, I read it again myself. I instantly realized it was my blessing to have thought she would benefit. You see, from thinking I was helping another, I was truly helping myself.

To Let Go does not mean to stop caring.
It means I can't do it for someone else.

To Let Go is not to cut myself off.
It's the realization that I can't control another.

To Let Go is not to enable, but to allow learning
from natural consequences.

To Let Go is to admit powerlessness.,
which means the outcome is not in my hands.

To Let Go is not to try to change or blame another,
It's to make the most of myself.

To Let Go is not to care for, but to care about.

To Let Go is not to fix, but to be supportive.

To Let Go is not to judge, but to allow another
to be a human being.

To Let Go is not to be right in the middle arranging all the outcomes
but to allow others to effect their destinies.

To Let Go is not to be protective, but to permit
another to face reality.

To Let Go is not to deny, but to accept.

To Let Go is not to nag, scold or argue, but instead to search out my own
short comings and correct them.

To Let Go. is not to adjust everything to my own desires,
but to take each day as it comes and cherish myself to it.

To Let Go is not to criticize and regulate anybody,
but to try to become what I dream I can be.

To Let Go is not to regret the past,
but to grow and live for the future.

To Let Go is to fear less, and to love more.

It's A Heartache, Nothing But A Heartache

Eighty two year old mother in hospital----again.

Eighty seven or eighty eight, just don't remember at the moment, year old father----hurting, physically and mentally. Can hardly walk from pain.

Eighty two year old mother a vetern A + homemaker.

Eighty seven or eighty eight year old father a retired Airforce Col., a World War Two vetern hero.

Eighty two year old mother suffering from brittle diabetes, and debilitating dementia.

Eighty seven or eighty eight year old father suffering from denial, old age and taking care of his eighty two year old wife, of sixty five years.

Eighty two year old mother unhappy most of the time.
Eighty seven or eighty eight year old father unhappy most of the time.

Eighty two year old mother wearing my father out.

Eighty seven or eighty eight year old father wearing my mother out.

Eighty two year old mother and eighty seven or eighty eight year old father wearing my heart out.