Bits&Pieces

what I've got planned

First and foremost, I'd like to apologize to the residents of the great state of New York for my flagrant misuse of spelling while repeatedly talking about NIAGARA falls. I think was keyed in on the  "viagra" spelling because of all that rushing water. Follow?

So that happened.

Now, onto what I've got planned:

1. My Front Porch Project (Not to be confused in any way with Tara Whitney's whole One Project  A Month gig. I have to be honest here. My version of a project a month includes things like: clean the bathroom, or, go for a long walk, or, try not to ingest that whole bag of mini Reese's Peanut Butter Cups.) That said…

Anyhoo… we have a front porch that slopes toward the street at roughly a 20 degree angle. Someday, we will have it lifted, and it will be a charming little space where we will have a table, and drink wine and eat tapas while admiring our clever Flor choices. But for now, here is Side A, after being sorted out by my sweet cleaning husband over the weekend:

Notice the precise placement of all the mismatched rugs and mats. We feel it says to those who enter our home: these people have mismatched rugs and mats.

Next weekend, we will tackle Side B:

Oh, what's that? You like the wreath? Me too!

Nothing says summer like red, purple and pink Christmas ornaments all gathered together neatly in a circular fashion.

Remember, coming soon: wine and tapas and no more feeling that you're going to fall backwards when you're knocking at my front door.

Viva Niagra

Back home. Safe, somewhat sound. Puffy, but happy to be here and not over that railing.

CKC was a good all-around time. Great classes. Thank you to all of you who chose to spend an hour with me on Friday and Saturday. I haven't been out among the scrapbookers in quite some time. My nervousness was unfounded. That's a good thing.

And thanks to my sweet co-worker and senior editor Megan, who did a fabulous job teaching and convincing me to come out to Niagra Falls.

And also for accompanying me to the Anchor Bar where we decided to order the medium-ly spicy wings. Mmmmm.

And thanks to my little Kodak EasyShare camera for allowing me to bring this little nugget to the masses:

And to Steve, the cab driver who took care of us, even if he was a little pushy.

And to the two women I met at different times at the convention who said variations of the following: "You're smaller than I thought you would be."

And thanks to my parents, for instilling all those great values in me.

And to my friends. You've stood by me through the good times and the bad.

And to that man on the plane, on my first flight yesterday, who gave up his aisle seat so a whole family could sit together, thereby restoring my own faith in the good of mankind.

And to my mail carrier, for delivering my mail each day with thoughtfulness and compassion.

And to each and every single one of you.

No crabs!

I misspoke… I actually WILL take my bra off, later, you know, in a more appropriate setting

Off to Buffalo, I will soon roam

Finalizing a few things before I head out tomorrow for a nice long day of connecting flights as I make my way to Buffalo CKC.

Are you taking my class? Because if you are, read this carefully: THANK YOU! and, remember: you need to bring a vertically-oriented 4 x 6 inch photograph (preferably of you, but it can be of someone important to you.) We are doing a layout project, sisters. At first, I was just going to do a little presentation and a yap session, but then I made a layout I liked, and I thought it would be fun to make with all those brave scrapbookers who dare to take a class with one who has no real techniques to share.

Except the technique of scrapbook love.

So… I look forward to meeting you there.

In addition to the class project, where we get to use my most favorite Fontwerks stamp  ever (as seen above), and products from American Crafts, My Mind's Eye, Ranger and Bazzill Basics Paper, you're going to get a sampling of some of my favorite products this year, from companies such as: Cloud 9 Design, BasicGrey, Making Memories, Heidi Swapp, to name a few. (Thank you sponsors. I have much of aforementioned scrapbook love for you all!)

I also bought some new clothes to better camouflage the muffin top. They aren't really fooling anyone, but hey, new clothes that actually fit me are good, right? Even if they are a bit larger.

I may post from the road. I may not.

But rest assured, I hope to be able to personally bathe all of you in the warm light of scrapbook love.

And that's really not as inappropriate as it might sound.   

There's No Place Like Home

For those who would like to help out the tornado victims in Hugo, Minnesota, you can go here (the Twin Cities Area Chapter Red Cross.)

There is also a call for help in Hugo to clean up debris on Saturday, May 31. You can learn more here.

There's definitely no place more important than home.

Memorable.

Went up to Nisswa over the weekend. Drove home last night, about 20 minutes behind the horrific storm that tore through Coon Rapids and Hugo, Minnesota. My heart aches for the devastation, and the loss of life.

I couldn't help but try to imagine what it would be like to wake up one morning, and you have no home. Yesterday, you had one. Today, you don't. I'm hoping there will be a Red Cross Relief link soon, and I will post here to encourage my fellow Minnesotans to give what they can.

Hugo is about 20 miles from where I live.

So this morning, I'm recapping the weekend, and feeling very, super grateful. Not going to whine on and on as in my previous post. (But thank you so much for sharing bits of your own struggles and thoughts. Much appreciated.)

We left on Friday for the cabin. We always pack as if we're going for a month.

The destination? Grandma Boeder's cabin, just a bit over 2 and a half hours north of St. Paul:

Let's say for the record, I'm not really an outdoors-y type. But Nisswa in May can truly be a wonderful place. Few bugs, cool weather. And, the attendance this weekend was on the lower side, which means it wasn't hard to find a bed in which to crash. My kind of weekend.

And that weekend included:

Bonfires and smores with the Boeder and Pahl cousins:

Several sessions of hot box:

Sweet boys cozied up in the newly remodeled cabin basement:

And then there were the cool finds. My mother-in-law, Joan, did a bit of sorting and organizing in some of Great Grandma's basement cubbies, and found the following:

No, you wouldn't want a bite, but how cool is that? Had to toss due to oozing red 40-year-old lollies.

But the following item was not tossed, and guess where it landed?

When Joan asked if I wanted it, once I picked my jaw up off the table, I was like, "Um, hello? Yes." Which was also my reply when she found another, and asked the same question.

Seriously.

Serious.

Then there were the other traditions of going to the lake.

Unsuccessful fishing:

And the Nisswa Classic Parents vs. Kids game, which saw the kids win yet again.

And that means only one thing: a trip to the Chocolate Ox.

Personally, I can't breathe in that place. But I had to get a few shots. One woman saw me taking pictures and said, "You're supposed to EAT the candy, not take pictures of it."

I wanted to tell her "But that's how I keep my girlish figure," but thought better.

And lucky for us, Grandma B, who lives in Brainerd in an senior living center (where she has her own apartment and and lives just a few doors down from her sister, Felix, who is 93), came out for a brief visit. Man. 96 years old and she still knows how to pair a jacket with a shirt. She's an amazing woman.

One other cool thing this weekend was getting to know my father-in-law's year-and-a-half old Australian Shepherd, Matey. She's a farm dog, who I think could use a good grooming and a LOT more cuddling and "inside the house" time (she currently gets none), but she has a really great disposition, and I'm thinking of borrowing her for one good flea dip and trip to a groomer. We went for a nice long walk and she just strolled gently along side of me. Thankful, I think, for a bit of one-on-one attention from a human.

In all, I'm thankful for the weekend. Thankful to be home. Remembering all this stuff that makes life so good. I think I'm scrapbooking today to remind myself just how lucky I really am.

Happy Memorial Day to you.

 

20 lbs of whine

Oh motivation for healthy living, where for art thou?

It's almost June and the needle on my scale and the button on my pants are both telling me the same thing: for the love of chub and all things holy, HELP US!

About two weeks ago, I had one of those "I am hitting bottom moments"; you know the ones I'm talking about. Nothing fits. You can't look in the mirror without thinking, Dear God, is my butt really that big now?  You realize that you're hanging on to your current pant size by the skin of your teeth and one more peanut butter cup will be the ultimate tipping point. So, I re-committed to exercise and healthy living.

That lasted all of a week.

I wish I were okay on the puffier side. I really, really do. I wish I looked in the mirror at any size and thought: Well hello there... how much for de lady?  But maybe those searing brands of 7th grade insecurity never really go away. That feeling that somehow, you know you could and should look better. Don't get me wrong. I really like who I am. I just take issue with the packaging.

Two years and two months after leaving my 20-little-sticks-of-love-(and death) a day habit behind, I still think sometimes: I really miss being a skinny smoker. No, I have no plans of doing anything rash. I'm just sayin'. Nicotine and photos of myself from 2006 still haunt me.

I'm sure some would say, "For the love of Neil, get OVER it. Go for a flippin' walk and shut up!" And sometimes, that's exactly what you need to hear. And other times, well… your hormones might just have to go all medieval on their asses.

Still. I'm looking for love in all the wrong places.

Signed,
Stalemated, i mean "scale" mated in St. Paul

Dream big!

I have a dream.

And in this dream, Waste Management arrives in the pre-dawn hours to deliver an obscenely large leave-behind dumpster. And when Dan wakes up to see the large depository sitting out behind our garage, he smiles and says: "Go ahead. Get rid of anything you like. I'll be home at 6."

Shivers down my spine. Truly.

I'm fully aware of how dreaming too big can get you into trouble. So I'm starting small.

Today, I've hired a dude who's coming to remove one of what I hope are many large things that clutter up my otherwise peaceful world. I present to you, Barely Used 1970s Box Freezer:

(I know it looks like this is also the place where we clean and gut our deer, but stay with me here for a minute.)

We bought our Mom and Dad's house. Not literally, mind you. Because if that were true it would mean that Dan and I are brother and sister, and that's just ewww. But when we bought this house, there were so many things that felt WAY too grown up for us...like a Box Freezer... and it made us feel as if we were living in our parents' house.

We tried at first, to play along. We bought numerous turkeys. Frozen burritos in bulk. We even went in on a full side of beef with Dan's dad. All in the name of filling up the Box Freezer. You know, for all those elaborate, meat-laden Sunday night dinners that most people in their late 20s make.

Over time, we forgot about the Box Freezer. I just don't plan ahead like that, end of the world be damned.

Then 12 years passed.

So last week I called a haul away service. I figured if I can't justify a cleaning service, I absolutely can use some of my hard earned dollars to start chipping away at the glutton of stuff that is taking up space in my house. You know, to start making room for the basement remodel project of 2022!

And while they're here, you know what else they're taking away? Let's just say there is a 1960s air conditioning unit, almost the size of the Box Freezer, that's been sitting squarely in the center of my deck since October, and its hours are numbered.

And I know what else you're wondering, "Is that grey chair in the shot what I think it is?"

Yes. You are correct:

It too, came with the house. A giant, 1960s, sit-down, hair dryer. Now THAT is something every family needs. (I know, Tara, the garage-saler in you is DYING right now that you can't turn this into a shoot prop.)

And guess where this sucker is also going?

AWAY.

I think I just had an orgasm.

Wait.... no. I didn't. Still, I have a really strong urge to smoke right now. 

Suffice to say, maybe you CAN dream big, because in a matter of hours, I'm going to become a shining, living example that some dreams really do come true.

On a final note, I really am looking forward to the basement remodel of 2022. Because as I'm now able to see more clearly the walls of this same basement corner, I only hear one word:

Preciouuuuuuuuussssss.

like I said on Twitter: older, less cuddly, not nearly as cute version

Yes? A little? And maybe I'm not LDS either, but you really can't deny a very slight connection on both the hair color and bang treatment.

Good luck, little twin! We're all pulling for you. And the other guy, too.