The Edge of Reason

Alyssa's Graduation Day

Presenting my 2008 DHS graduate!

Exhausted, overwhelmed, emotional and filled with pride. These are only a few of the feelings I've experienced today. I've laughed, I've cried, I've cheered, and I've celebrated. It seems like only yesterday when she was placed in my arms and I said "Alyssa, I love you," for the very first time. Raising this beautiful child has been the greatest journey of my life and I wouldn't trade it for the world. My only regret is that the journey didn't last longer.

At the graduation ceremony today, the staff of DHS presented the final three scholarship awards to the class of 2008. These scholarships were top secret and none of the students or parents knew who the recipients were - the names of the recipients were not even listed on the program... that's how secret the scholarships are. These were the Faculty Scholarships - given based upon leadership, citizenship, community service and academic achievement (and a few other things that I can't remember right now because... well... I'm emotional). Students consider it to be of the utmost honor to receive these scholarships and they are highly regarded. The faculty member who presented the scholarships gave a lovely speech and I was choked up as she talked about the unknown recipients and their individual contributions to the class of 2008. After her introduction and explanation of the scholarship, she shared a bit about each recipient before announcing their name, and as she began to talk about the second recipient, I realized that she was saying some things that I was very familiar with... things that had shaped Alyssa's high school years... things that had consumed my daughter's every waking moment for the past nine months... things that made me wonder if maybe Alyssa was who Ms. Wingfield was talking about. Come to find out, Alyssa was having the same thoughts, but she figured it out much sooner than I did, and she later told me that she was crying tears of joy before her name was ever announced. She told me that the classmates she was sitting in back of turned around and said, "It's you!" She said that the students behind her were poking her back and whispering "Congratulations!" and "Way to go." And she also told me that when Ms. Wingfield announced her name, she was crying so hard she could barely make her way to the stage. Once she finally stopped crying, she began to smile, and she hasn't stopped smiling since. She is so honored to have been chosen for this award. And me... well, there are no words to express the pride I feel.

Here is a picture of Alyssa and the two other recipients of the DHS Faculty Scholarship:

As I said, I'm extremely emotional tonight. I still need to process it all because the event was so much more than I ever imagined. And so I will complete this entry with a pictorial review of the day because I think Alyssa's smile says it much better than words:

John and Alyssa with a very happy mom!

Alyssa with Grammy and Poppy.

Aunt Jenny and Aunt Debbie share our day.

Cousins McKenzie, Hunter and Casey join in the fun.

My heart overflows with love for this child.

Alyssa is at the all-night graduation party tonight. In the morning, we're off to Philadelphia for a few days of sightseeing and fun with the cousins. We plan to swim and shop and check out the Liberty Bell. There will be lots of food involved, too, because I don't cook and I think everyone who is going on the trip is tired of turkey sandwiches and graduation cake. Seriously, I think I've starved them. On Tuesday we will go to Hershey Park before heading for home because by then, these teenagers will be more than ready to collectively experience the unique sense of freedom that can only be found in an amusement park. And the chocolate - they want some of that as well. Alyssa considers herself to be Chief Cousin since she's the graduate and the eldest of the teens, and so in spite of the fact that she is allergic to chocolate, she knows that there are big bins of Twizlers at the Hershey Candy Factory. Therefore, she's given her stamp of approval on this plan. Anything... as long as it's not a turkey sandwich and more graduation cake.

After that, we will wind up Project Graduation as my mom and step-dad head back to the pacific northwest on Wednesday. On Thursday, my sister will be leaving for a visit with her husband's family in D.C. And on Saturday, Debbie and Casey return to Seattle where they will begin packing up their belongings in preparation for their move to Pennsylvania. And after I say my final good-byes and thank yous to the most special people in my life, our grand adventure will be complete... and that is when I plan on taking a week-long nap!

Soon, June 2008 will only be a memory - but the memories we are making at this moment in time will last a lifetime. I am positive that Alyssa will never forget her high school graduation; I know that for the rest of my days, I will feel pride when I remember this day. And when all is said and done, I could not ask for more.

Graduation Week

Poppy's here! And what that means is that it is time to get this show on the road... Project Graduation has arrived.

My sister and my sister in law, along with my beautiful niece and wonderful nephews, will be here in less than 24 hours. I am so excited I can hardly stand it - a house full of family! In the seventeen years I have lived away from the west coast, I have never had this many family members in my home at one time - so this is a really, really big deal! And to say I'm excited doesn't even come close to describing the anticipation I feel. I am literally giddy with delight as I await their arrival.

My mom has been here for the past week. Spending time with her has been a dream come true. She is my rock and my salvation. She knows me like no other, and without her constant presence and never-ending compassion, I fear I would have fallen apart as I watched my baby girl take her final steps of childhood as she prepares for her long awaited independence. It's been hard - I'm fighting letting go, and I'm finding it difficult to graciously accept the fact that my little girl is all grown up. Being with my mom has helped me come to terms with a transition that is inevitable.

We have attended awards assemblies, banquets and pinning ceremonies - lots of pomp and circumstance because high school graduation is one of the few things in life that is a universal momentous occasion. And because it's so momentous, we've tried to do our part in keeping with the spirit of the moment... lots of sitting... lots of clapping... lots of pictures... and lots of going with the flow. We've also done quite a bit of giggling, because after all, giggling is what makes the sitting and the waiting and the going with the flow fun!

For an entire week, my mom and I have gabbed, we've shopped, we've lunched, we've reminisced, and we've commiserated. I don't think I could have done it without her, because to be completely honest - my senior is NOT being 100% cooperative. But then... she's a senior, and as I am now well aware, it's all about her and everything else is secondary because she's graduating, and in her world, that is all that matters!

Okay. So that's that: this week, it's all about Alyssa!

And so in spite of the All About Me thing we are faced with, I have to admit I am very proud of my daughter. Her teachers love her. Her classmates admire her. And this past week as we've seen her presented with awards and certificates and all sorts of special attention, it has become clear to me that she has grown to be a very well-rounded and ambitious young lady. It's a good thing there have been all these ceremonies and such, because without them, I might have missed seeing exactly who my daughter has become. She's a delight! Who knew? Certainly not me! But her teachers knew. Her friends knew. The special ed kids she works with knew. And so did the leaders of our community. But somewhere along the way, I missed it. I was so busy worrying about raising her right and teaching her how to be responsible and compassionate, I didn't see that she was doing exactly what I hoped she would do. Now I know... she's grown up just fine. I must have done something right. Whew. What a relief. I may actually be able to let go... just a little... because it's time - and even though I'm fighting it, she's well prepared to go forth into this great big world without me. Because as much as I hate to admit it - there it is... my work is done - it's time for me to step back and let her follow her dreams and find her way.

And so here's to Alyssa - my graduate. I love you and I am proud of you. Congratulations my beautiful and most precious daughter. May your life be filled with happiness and success. May you find love and joy in everything you choose to do. I wish you a journey filled with delight and adventure. And most of all, I wish for you to find your passion and live your dream, for when you do that, your life will be filled with riches beyond measure.

Three posts in one: Prom, Life is Good, and FINALLY!

2008 Senior Prom

Last night was the Senior Prom. Alyssa went with a group of friends, choosing not to have a date, but rather to enjoy the evening with everyone in her class. She's funny like that - no date just for appearance sake. She'd rather go solo than spend the night with someone she didn't like in the dating sense. I was proud of her for going alone - I don't know if I would have had the courage to do that when I was in high school.

It seems like this spring has been  All About Alyssa, and to a degree, that is true. Being a senior is not only a big deal (and a lot of work) for the senior, but it is also a big deal (and a lot of work) for the mom. I keep telling myself that this happens only once and that I will survive the stress and the crazy days of activity and frenzy - and as the temperatures reached almost 100 degrees yesterday, with a humidity level of what felt like a bazillion degrees, I kept reminding myself that the heat would serve as an added memory to Prom Day as we dealt with the manicure, the pedicure, the hair and the make up, all of which I was just sure would wilt and melt in the heat.

But when all was said and done, Alyssa's Senior Prom was a success and my beautiful daughter looked every bit the mature young woman she has grown to be. I was a tad bit overcome with emotion as I helped her prepare for her final high school prom. The thought foremost in my mind was that I hoped she was able to create last minute memories with the friends she will soon be saying good-bye to. I think she had fun... at least that is the impression I got this morning. Her hair is still "up" today, meaning it didn't fall apart in the heat; her make up is gone, but it still looked fresh (and only a tiny bit shiny) when she returned home after the dance. So all in all, I'm saying hooray! We did it. One more senior activity behind us and one more memory to place in the treasure box inside my heart.

Here is a peek at her dress and hair before the big event:

And this:

I love this picture of Alyssa and her friends. They look so happy and carefree. If I didn't know the inside scoop (the mean girl story), I would not have any inkling that weeks of drama and stress ensued leading up the the Senior Prom. And if a picture is worth a thousand words, I think it is safe to say that the girls were able to put the drama behind them as they had the time of their life the night of the dance.

Life is Good!

YEE-HAW! My mom arrives tomorrow [:smiley face:]. I've, i.e., the house, has been ready for her since Friday, in spite of the fact that my week went to hell in a hand-basket as we weathered a storm and no power, an entire day of medical appointments, and another day of errands that seemed to never end in the oppressive heat and humidity. It's a wonder I got anything done at all, because, after all... it was Prom Week, and for those who have never had a high school senior, know this: everything stops as the world revolves around the student attending the prom, thus, anything else on the agenda becomes secondary. It's a wonder I didn't strangle said senior, and it's a true miracle that Alyssa and I managed to make it through the week with only one or two snipes!

I am so excited to see my mom. She will be here for an entire week before the rest of the family begin to arrive. Our plans for those days include lunches, shopping, lots of chatting and playing, in addition to a Senior Awards Assembly and a "secret" banquet given by the Ruritan Club honoring Alyssa and other students receiving scholarships (Alyssa does not yet know she has won this scholarship - thus, the secret).

And FINALLY...

Some may remember that Alyssa was in a car accident last October - an accident that totaled my SUV. Since that time we have been a four driver family with only one car. To say it's been a trial would not begin to express the test this has been on my patience. Not a day has gone by that someone has not asked me if I've replaced the MDX (my friends knowing that the level of my patience was being sorely tested). And for the past six months, my answer has been, "that's a bad subject."

Well... I am pleased to announce that as of yesterday (the day that Alyssa foolishly thought was all about her, but turned into to being quite a lot about ME!), I am now the proud owner of a Ruby Red 2005 Volvo S60. And although I usually don't get all worked up about material things, this is one material thing that I am thrilled with. I've been happy dancing for the past 24 hours, and every time I see the car in the garage, or drive it [on sometimes unnecessary errands], I have to pinch myself in order to believe that I FINALLY have a new car. One thing I can now say unequivocally is that it was worth the wait - I am having a love affair with my new car. Once my mom arrives, I will ask her to take a picture of me and Ruby Red so I can post it as part of this long awaited celebration.

In looking back over the last few days and weeks, I can't believe that it's here... Alyssa's graduation - the event that will reunite my extended family once again; the event that I've been preparing for since September. I still find it hard to believe that *I* am the parent of a senior. And I can't get over the fact that my little girl is all grown up. I keep wondering where the time went... how did it pass so quickly... and what am I going to do when she leaves for college?

These are questions I will probably be asking for the next year. And since I don't think the answers will be forthcoming for quite some time, I have decided to sit back, relax, and enjoy the moment because tomorrow kicks off the BIG EVENT!

A Full Circle Discovery: Scrapbook Musings

As mentioned in a previous post, cleaning the scrapbook room was the next project on my agenda. Humph. What a chore that turned out to be. And enlightening, too.

I've not scrapbooked in a very long time. Therefore, the room that is dedicated to this craft has been neglected, abused, ignored, and mistreated. When I finally worked up the courage (or was it motivation due to the fact that I am expecting company in less than ten days?) to dig in and repair the damage, I came to a startling conclusion: I have come full circle.

I started scrapbooking, in the most primitive sense, when Alyssa was in first grade. Back then, embellishments consisted of rubber stamps or stickers... Mrs. Grossman's stickers, to be exact. Decorative scissors and shapes were all the rave. Pattern paper was theme heavy, with a lot of concentration placed on holidays, birthdays and seasons. Cardstock was available in white, black, tan, and fluorescent hues - with not much in between. 12x12 pages came in Creative Memories format only - cardstock of this size had not yet been introduced.

That was twelve years ago... I fell in love with putting pictures to pages and I've watched the craft evolve from basic and simple to artistic and more complex. And as the trends have evolved, so have my scrapbooking abilities. Surprisingly, my style has remained relatively the same - more refined, but it is what it is:

Looking back at the first albums I made, I see the history of scrapbooking with every page I turn, and I'm happy to say that even though my first pages were relatively primitive based upon the products available at the time, I am still in love with those albums.

Fast forward to present day. Alyssa is a senior in high school. I've been scrapbooking for a dozen years. I've made more albums than I can count. And I was able to enjoy the pleasure of working in the industry for nine of those twelve years. It's been a journey of discovery and creativity. And as I dug into the mess I've created this past year, I realized that it is a journey I am satisfied with, which is not to say the journey is complete, but rather a realization that the journey has taken a turn - something I now consider to be a relaxed vacation rather than a frenzied trip. I've reached my destination and I'm satisfied with the path that led me here... but now it's time to sit back and enjoy because I am no longer striving to keep up with the trends. I like where I'm at, and I love where I've been!

So what does all this have to do with cleaning a scrapbook room? Well, it has a lot to do with cleaning the room, because cleaning the room was a walk down memory lane... twelve years of history contained in boxes, cupboards, drawers and piles (piles and piles of stuff). As I went through each stack and pile, each drawer and cupboard, each box and bag, I was able to touch the history of my journey, and the cleaning process became something of a treasure hunt. And oh what treasures I found: paper dolls, paper piecing patterns, die cuts and cut outs. What began as a cleaning project soon turned into a reunion with old friends (products and trends that led me on my journey in the first place). And as I selectively chose what to part with and what to keep, I realized that some of those ancient treasures are keepers indeed, because now that I no longer work in the industry, I am once again in control of the path I take - and if I want to use those old treasures, who's to tell me I can't? Once I concluded that I no longer care if what I create is trendy or stylish, the burn to scrapbook returned... and I didn't even know it was missing!

But what I wonder is this: why is it that some hobbies have trends and styles while others are as constant as day and night? And why is it that as hobbyists, we feel the necessity to keep up with the trends even when we are fully satisfied with where we are at? When I sew - it's the same today as it was yesterday, and although the patterns I work with may be new and the fabric may be of better quality than it once was, the actual process and end result are the same: a quilt is a quilt is a quilt. A shower curtain is a shower curtain. And a pillow is a pillow. Nothing changes. Buttons are buttons, thread is thread, needles are needles. The machines are now computerized and programmable, but a zig zag stitch still zigs and zags and a straight stitch is still straight.

With scrapbooking, I don't know that this is true. Paper dolls - out! Paper piecing - archaic. Die cuts of old - tacky. Punch art - some people don't even know what this was, and I've certainly not seen it used on a page this decade. Maybe it is because scrapbooking is still considered a relatively new craft. Or maybe it is because today's women are more business minded and they see an opportunity to take part in the growth, thus designing and developing ever changing ideas and trends. Either way, scrapbooking seems to change faster than the seasons, and it boggles my mind to consider that I was on that ride for so many years. How did I keep up? And more importantly, how did I continue to compete day in and day out for as long as I did?

I don't know. I'm still trying to figure it out. But regardless of the reasons, I am satisfied with where I've been and I like where I am slowly going, because although I am still curious to see what direction scrapbooking takes, I no longer feel the need to touch and feel and work with every single new product there is. And, as I discovered this week, I'm not yet willing to say good-bye to some of the trends that are now considered out-dated. Those trends are why I fell in love with this hobby - those trends represent over a decade of my life... and to be completely honest, I still like some of those old trends, even if they are out of date and considered tacky and uncool.

And so my discovery is this: I've come full circle. I have returned to scrapbooking for me.. for the pure love of paper and glue... for the desire to put pictures to pages... for the creative outlet... and for my love of color - which is how it all began in the first place. I like seeing the circle complete. It represents each and every year that Alyssa has been in school - that's how long I've been making scrapbook pages. And when she looks back at those old albums, she will not care one tiny bit whether or not the products and styles were trendy and new at the time the pages were made. What matters most is that it began with a passion to creatively document and remember her childhood, and after all these years, it has returned to its roots - a desire to creatively remember the days of our lives.

And so maybe scrapbooking isn't so different from sewing after all. Maybe paper and glue are just the needle and thread of the craft. After all, a page is a page, just the same as a quilt is a quilt. And so maybe the core of scrapbooking is just another fiber of my life... a fiber whose texture is whatever I want it to be - and what was once a fancy organza has now become a very simple flannel, which still offers comfort no matter how plain it may be, because in the end, what began as a very primitive craft is still exactly that - paper and glue. And no matter what it is or how it came to be, my circle is complete and I am comforted in knowing it is something I will always love to do.

The Hugs & Kisses Project

My mom arrives in Virginia in less than two weeks. I've not seen her in over two years, and to say I'm excited is putting it mildly. To be honest, I'm so anxious to see her and the rest of my family that I can barely think straight.

For the past five weeks I've been getting ready for our distinguished guests. In fact, I made a list... a plan of attack... a schedule, which included digging in, cleaning out, and a couple little room makeover projects. But as my husband likes to say, "Nothing is ever as easy as it seems." Once again, he was right, because my "little projects" turned into huge projects, and my plan of attack temporarily took a back seat while I recovered from an annual bout of bronchitis.

But I'm back on track! Yay! And regardless of whether or not everything gets done, my mom will soon arrive and she won't mind a bit if my closets are messy and my windows are dirty. Best of all, she will appreciate the little things that I have managed to accomplish, because more than anyone, she knows that when I take on a project that involves a sewing machine, I lose track of the hours and days and weeks.

I've named the latest project The Hugs and Kisses Project because the room was updated based upon a quilt I made especially for the makeover. What started out as John's childhood room (the place he slept before he found independence and decided to move down to the basement, which he has since taken over as his personal domain), has now become a second spare bedroom... not The Ritz, and nothing fancy, but a room for a single guest to find a bit of privacy and lay their head when we have a house full of people. Keeping in mind that the only time we have a house full of people is when my entire family comes for a visit, this room will probably be used most often by Alyssa's out of state college roommates who come home with her on three day weekends. Either way, I think the room will be used frequently, and so the time spent giving it a makeover was well worth the effort. Plus, it felt good to dig in and get rid of John's old toys and little boy treasures (things that weren't really treasures to begin with, i.e. rocks, comic books, broken pencils, and all sorts of odds and ends that had no place other than the trash can).

I began with the essentials: a color palette, two gallons of paint, a pile of fabric, and a sewing machine. The colors were chosen based upon the quilted wall-hanging that I planned to make. The bedding was purchased at Target for the low price of $39.99. Seriously, who can beat that price for bedding? I LOVE Target! The paint color was chosen not for the name (Cabbage Green???? Yuk!), but because it looked fresh and clean, and this little room was in dire need of something fresh and clean.

First, I made the curtains, then I painted the room... one coat... and then I got sick. So everything sat undone and messy for an entire week. When I got back on my feet, I finished painting the room and then sat down to the business of sewing the quilt. The quilt took an entire week and a total of 52 hours to create - which only goes to prove that my husband is right: nothing is ever as easy as it seems. But in the end, I have to say that making this quilt was one of the most challenging things I have ever sewn. And even though it will hang in a room that is used only on occasion, it was made with love, knowing that whomever stays in this room will always be an honored guest in our home. And for that reason alone, I am in love with this quilt.

Here is the end result of the room makeover. I've included before and after pictures, but the "before" is not really the true "before" because if I were to have taken pictures of the true "before" I would have had to explain why an entire room in my home was filled to overflowing with boxes of crap. And to be honest, I'd rather not have documentation of all that junk (which I gladly gave to the Goodwill). So the "before" picture is actually the "after" picture of what the room looked liked "after" I cleaned it out and "before" I painted and redecorated it...

Next on the agenda is digging out my scrapbook room because, like the unseen "before" pictures of John's childhood room, the scrapbook room is filled with boxes of... stuff (I won't say crap since *I* consider the stuff to be treasures, much like John considered his rocks and broken pencils to be treasures). The scrapbook room is low on the totem pole of rooms that will be used when my family visits, but I guarantee that if my mom or my sister were to see that room in its current state of being, I would never live it down and they would probably be shocked at my disregard for all those so-called treasures. Note that there will be NO SEWING involved in this next project, therefore, I anticipate the task to take one single day. I'll let you know how accurate that guesstimate turns out to be, because like Jeff so often reminds me: nothing is ever as simple as it seems.

Mean Girls

Does it ever end - the mean girl mentality? The answer is: sometimes, no... it does not end.

Alyssa is a senior - she only has three weeks left of high school, and one would think that by now the mean girls would have grown up. Apparently, they have not. The current drama is about the Prom, and dates, and transportation, and probably a whole bunch of other things I have no clue of. Regardless of the reason, I find myself once again witness to the pain that mean girls cause. This time around, I have a 17 year old daughter who is crying her heart out because, "everyone hates me," and she is missing her senior class trip to Hershey Park this weekend (it was her choice not to go because she didn't want to deal with the drama and the humiliation of being shunned).

As a mother, it infuriates me that the same girls who were mean in elementary school are the girls who are mean in high school. I'm guessing these will be the same girls who grow up to be the snotty moms that create all sorts of drama in the PTA, because the unfortunate truth of the matter is that mean girls don't always outgrow the mean girl mentality... sometimes, mean girls grow up to be mean woman, and the mean gene is there for life.

For the past year John has dated a girl named Taylor. She is the victim of a group of mean girls in her class, and on numerous occasions, I have helplessly watched Taylor suffer unkind acts. And every time she hurts, my heart goes out to this shy, sweet, loving girl. I have grown very fond of Taylor and I am always happy when she spends time in our home because I know she feels safe and loved when she is here. And even though it's not much, it is nice to be able to offer her that - a peaceful environment away from the mean girls, if only for a few hours.

Sadly (for me and for Taylor), John broke up with Taylor this spring. The first thought I had when he told me he was breaking up with her was, "where will she go when those mean girls attack?" The second thought I had was that I would miss her terribly. But, as so often happens with teens, girlfriends and boyfriends come and go and it's not my place as a parent to interfere just because I have grown close to a passing crush. As it was, John predicted that the break up would be more difficult for me than it was for him. He was right!

Since John and Taylor broke up, Taylor has stopped by to see John on several occasions. Always, I greet her with a hug and tell her how much I miss her (probably not the cool mom thing to do, but I can't help it... I adore her). Yesterday, Taylor called and asked if she could stop by - she told John that she had something for me. Since John knows how much I like Taylor, he kindly invited her over. Come to find out, Taylor had heard that I've been very sick (bronchitis - it hit me fast and hard, and I've been in bed for days), and because she is so sweet, she brought me a card and some flowers. Oh how I love this girl! She is truly one of the good ones.

After Taylor left, I thought about how she has stayed so sweet in spite of being verbally attacked by the mean girls for an entire school year. Between Taylor and Alyssa, too often I have witnessed the fallout from mean girls as I've watched these two girls suffer. And to be honest, it hurts me almost as much as it hurts them because I am helpless to change the situation. But the fact that Taylor and Alyssa are both still sweet after being treated the way they have tells me that they have changed the situation! They have overcome the obstacles and are better people because of the suffering they have endured, which doesn't make it okay, nor does it make the pain go away... it is just a product of their need to survive the painful high school years.

And so I guess the whole point of this post is to say to all the moms who deal with the pain of watching our daughters ache, my hope is that our daughters will be the girls who will grow up and become compassionate adults; that our daughters will be stronger because of the suffering. Because yesterday, when I looked into Taylor's eyes that were filled with kindness, I realized that she has risen above the mean girls - and she is beautiful inside and out (although this is something she has yet to discover). Yesterday, it was apparent to me that the painful journey of being a victim of the mean girls has taught Taylor to look beyond the nasty head cheerleaders and the vain Prom Queens. She is miles ahead of those who choose to hurt others, because Taylor has grown up to become a caring and compassionate young woman - something the mean girls may never know.

In the end, I know it's all part of growing up. And I know that growing up is painful. But that doesn't make it any easier to endure or to watch. And that doesn't make it okay. Knowing how mean girls act only serves to remind me that Alyssa and Taylor are not the only victims. Which is unfortunate, because being a teenager is difficult enough without being verbally attacked or publicly shunned by ones peers. And to see these girls cry... well, it just breaks my heart. No one deserves that.

A Cheerful Hue

It all started with A Cheerful Hue - the perfect yellow... the color I've been wanting to paint the guest bathroom for quite some time. Yellow because, although yellow is not my favorite color, it's a cheerful color, and I like cheerful, which is why I had my heart set on yellow in the first place (after all, shouldn't bathing be a cheerful experience?). And so what better choice than a hue that was named the exact mood that I'd been aiming for? I mean, really, I'd been planning this little makeover project for a long time, but had never found the right color - nor did I have such an important event looming in the very near future, an event that means lots and lots of company staying at my house for an extended period of time (I can hardly type that without doing a happy dance! My family is coming to visit - YEE HAW!) - therefore, I had clearly not rushed into this project, which explains what I have been doing for the past two weeks, because what started out to be a little painting project, turned into a whole lot of sewing, with the the painting becoming secondary.

I know.... painting... how boring... but first there was sewing, which is a sub-subject to the main-subject of this post, which is actually about what I've been doing for the past two weeks. And I know I said I was putting the sewing machines away (2 machines because I use Alyssa's for quilting and my beloved Baby Lock Ellure for the actual sewing), but I lied. I didn't put the machines away. For some reason, I left them sitting on the dining room table. I also left the ironing board in the kitchen (much to Alyssa's disgust, dismay and embarrassment). Subconsciously, I must have known that I couldn't complete a project without adding a little touch of me to the mix. And that is exactly what I've been doing for the past two weeks - adding pieces of me to the bathroom that my mom will be using while she is here. The only problem with this was that a project that should have only taken three days ended up taking over two weeks. What can I say? I'm slow - I tend to enjoy the journey as much as the destination.

This is the color swatch that I began with. The yellow did not scan as "yellow" as it actually is... but as you will see in a bit, YELLOW is exactly what I got!

From the start, I knew that I wanted yellow walls with blue accents. And, like with the perfect yellow, I also knew exactly what hue of blue I wanted to use. Well, as often happens when I have a specific color in mind, I am unable to find that precise color when I go shopping for the coordinates, which is what happened with the blue. Everything I found was either dark blue, gray blue, ceramic blue, or baby blue, none of which tickled my fancy. And so off I went to the fabric store. I mean, seriously... how difficult can it be to make a shower curtain? Well. I'll tell you how difficult it can be: very difficult! And for all those times I've questioned the exorbitant price of a shower curtain, I was wrong. Shower curtains require gobs of fabric (seven yards, to be exact). Shower curtains are also a bugger to sew because of all that fabric. Additionally, fabric does not come wide enough or long enough to make a shower curtain in one piece, so there are panels that have to be made. Add a HOLE (yes, a freaking hole that I didn't discover until the dang curtain was half-way sewn!) in the middle of the fiber, and... well... a simple shower curtain project turned into a four day nightmare. Had I not spent so much money on all that fabric, I seriously would have thrown in the towel and gone with a plain, white curtain. But because I purchased an entire bolt of the perfect blue, I was bound and determined to make it work. In the end, it turned out lovely, and all is well in the world of shower curtain creation.

So... when I finally finished the shower curtain, I was ready to slap some paint on the walls and call it done. Not a big deal. And thankfully, the paint went on the walls without a hitch. Unfortunately, as you shall see, A Cheerful Hue is very cheerful indeed. Alyssa claims that a person needs sunglasses when entering the bathroom. Oiy. Too yellow. Another glitch in what was supposed to be a three day makeover.

And so after sitting on the cold, tile floor and staring at the bathroom walls for two hours, I decided that the yellow needed more contrast... more color... more cheer! And so off I went to dig through my quilt patterns, because a quilted wall hanging would surely solve the problem of walls that were too yellow. What I soon discovered was that I had no patterns that fit the measurement requirements for the wall that needed more cheer. Which led me to my sketch pad/grid paper notebook, because I am nothing if not determined when it comes to making things work. And so I started sketching out an idea of something that just might work. Here is what I came up with after an hour of sketching and measuring (written notes were added throughout the process):

And here is how it turned out:

And here is the end result - two weeks of work, one gallon of paint, eight yards of fabric, and hours and hours of sewing - a bathroom makeover that is now known as A Cheerful Hue (before and after photos):

And that, my friends, is what I have been doing for the past two weeks. Next on the agenda: a makeover for John's old room because my sister Jenny deserves a special place to stay as well, and after two weeks of hit and miss, I figure I'm on a roll when it comes to making a room over with some paint and fabric.

Whew. If I disappear again, it means more glitches in another [not so] simple project. I've got exactly one month before my family begins to arrive... one month to makeover another room... one month to whip this house into shape... and barely a month until Alyssa graduates. To be honest, the reason I'm keeping so busy is because if I stop and think about her graduation, I will break down and cry, because I'm still not ready for her to grow up. And so I'm keeping busy - too busy to think about it, because in the end, that is the only way I am able to cope with this transition.

For now.

I'd like to take a nap today. But I can't because John's nurse is here, and I am in full mother mode - hovering, stressing, nervousing, checking the progress, watching him sleep, and thinking that although my son is a rebel, he is one of the bravest teenagers I know.

A few minutes ago, I looked at him with tubes coming out of his arms and needles poking into his veins, and I realized how very proud I am of this child. And at that moment, I was thankful that in spite of his rebellion, his health continues to improve as his body grows stronger every day.

Today will be John's last infusion. It may not be the last as in forever. But it is the last for now. And in John's world, for now is a very big deal. After much consideration by his immunologist and psychiatrist, it has been determined that John's emotional well being must be given priority - for now. And so John will take a break from the numerous weekly medical procedures as he begins to concentrate on being a normal, emotionally and physically healthy teenager (whatever the definition of normal may be).

And thus, we begin a new phase in our life. A phase of less doctors appointments, fewer medical procedures, and many more hours of freedom. To be completely honest, it kind of scares me - because for the past three years, all of my energy has been given to taking care of this child. Hovering, stressing, nervousing, checking the progress, and watching over him is what I do. In this new phase of freedom, those things will most certainly be unwelcome. John wants to go on dates and hang out with the guys. He wants to eat pizza and listen to loud music. He wants to play his guitar and write poetry. And most of all, he wants to never spend another Friday afternoon with his nurse. Who can argue with that? Certainly not me. But I will admit it is going to be difficult to let go. It's become a habit to spend hours in waiting rooms with him, and even though the environment and circumstances were not ideal, I have come to cherish our hours spent alone and in private. I've gotten to know John better because of the situation, and to give up our forced time together is going to be difficult.

Of course, I'm sure John plans on celebrating. He will finally be free from the oppression of health concerns. And for that reason alone, I will be celebrating right beside him (in spirit, because, like I said, we are moving on to the freedom phase, which means NO SMOTHERING MOTHER!).

And still, I will worry. It was comforting to know that regardless of the status of his health, the nurse would be here like clockwork every third Friday administering the serum that became known as liquid gold. The liquid gold was my security blanket. And now I have to give that up, trusting that the doctors know best and knowing that they will only be a phone call away. Thank God for telephones, and after hours, and emergency services. Hopefully, we won't need those things, but it's always nice to know they are available if necessary.

And so tonight I will slowly step back and trust in my son, and the doctors, and the Lord. My prayer is that liquid gold is now a thing of the past - the forever past, not just the for now past, because the truth of the matter is, that is all any parent would want.

It's that time of year.

Senioritis.
It's come to our home.
In full force.
I don't like it.
And it's not pretty.

June 20.
That's when she graduates.
I fear this will get worse before it gets better.
And the question is:
will my patience and understanding last that long?

We still have to get through Prom.
And Senior Day.
And the Senior Trip.
And another month of early dismissals.
And sending out announcements.
And the attitude... the senior attitude -
we have to get through that, too.

My mom arrives on June 9.
I only have to hang on till then.
She can take over from there.
And she will keep me grounded.
Thank God for mothers.
My prayer is that someday Alyssa will say the same.

And thus, the countdown has begun because it's that time of year.

(no pictures today, because to be honest... I'm not in the mood.)

Swept away by the words.

I've read three really good books this year: Water for Elephants, Snowflower and the Secret Fan, and The Friday Night Knitting Club. But none of these books has rated making my Top Ten Favorite Books Ever List. They were good... really, really good... but not the best ever. In fact, it is rare when I find a book that comes close to making my personal favorites list. The last book that made the list was The Glass Castle. Before that, it was A Prayer for Owen Meany. And before that... well, I can't remember because it had been a while since my list had changed.

Always, when a book makes my top ten list, it means a shuffling of previous favorites, something I am hesitant to do because I tend to be very loyal to my favorite books ever list. For the record, my all time favorite book is an obscure fantasy titled Daughter of the Forest, by Juliet Marillier (this book is part of a trilogy). I've read it six times and fall in love with it more each time I read it. I don't know if there will ever be a book that takes over the number one spot, but spots two through ten are always open for alteration.

Last week I read a new book. It came as something of a surprise that this book was immediately added to my Top Ten Favorites List. The book wasn't recommended to me, nor had I read any reviews of the story. In fact, I don't recall hearing about the book at all. Instead, I found this book in the Young Adult section at Borders. I am not ashamed to admit that I search the Young Adult section on a frequent basis. I've found some very good books in this section: Harry Potter (years ago, before Potter mania swept the nation), Ender's Game, and Holes, to name a few. Last summer I discovered Eclipse (the entire series) in the Young Adult section and couldn't put the books down. I also couldn't wait to share the books with my niece, who also fell in love with the series. So Young Adult books are scattered throughout my bookshelves and held in high regard, right along with everything else I love. Note: a book only goes on the bookshelf if I think I will read it again, which I do all the time. If I don't think I'll read it again, then I pass it along without thinking twice. Currently, my bookshelf has about 75 books on/in it. Of those books, I've read at least half of them more than once. And several of the books have been read three, four, and five times. When I find a book I like, I think it is worth visiting again and again, because the words that tell a really good story sweep me away more with every telling of the story. And to be honest, a very good book is often hard to find, therefore, I collect them in case I run across a dry spell.

And so it was with The Book Thief - one of the most beautiful stories I have ever read. And as I fell into the pages, I was taken away to a time and place that we only learn of in history - a place that we have no comprehension of, because the truth of the matter is, we are blessed not to live in the midst of war and oppression and the evil domination of one single man. The Book Thief is a story of courage, friendship, love, survival, death, and grief - all which fit the criteria for being added to my Top Ten Favorites List. But more importantly, this book is about the power of words - something that resonates deeply within me.

When John saw me reading the book, his comment was, "Geez mom, you are as bad as the people at my school." I asked him what that was supposed to mean, and he told me that a teacher at his high school had challenged all of her students to read this book. But because I happen to be raising a teenage rebel, all it took for John to run far away from the book was a recommendation by a person of authority. And once again, I had to ask my self where I went wrong... not about the rebel thing - I will always wonder what happened there - but about the reading thing in general. Neither of my kids are book lovers. I don't know how that happened. I read out loud to them every night for the first ten years of their lives. And I have always offered to buy them any book they want (because, remember, I don't believe in book censoring). The last book John asked for was titled The Indigo Children - a research study of children with some kind of special insight to the world. Oiy. That's not a story... that's a study. When I was encouraging them to read, I certainly steered clear of research books. But of course, I bought it for him, because in my mind, even a research book is better than no book at all.

And so because my children are not readers, I did not discover The Book Thief from them. In fact, they both seemed to be a little offended that I was reading a book that they were supposed to be reading in school. Yep, I missed the boat when it came to passing my love of literature along to my kids - something that will always make me wonder where I went wrong. To be honest, it makes me sad. They have no idea what they are missing out on - this love of books and the ability to be swept away by the words.

As always, after reading a really good book, I turn to something light and fluffy (Jennifer Weiner, Janet Evanovich, Norah Roberts - these are good authors to turn to after reading something of high literary value. Their stories are pure entertainment and do not detract from the really good book that went before them) . I do this in an attempt to not tarnish the beauty of the few and far between really good books I find because I want those stories to linger in my mind. I want to cherish the words and live with the characters just a little bit longer. Back-to-back really good books would take something away from the lingering. For me, that would be a travesty, and it would negate the beauty of the really good book altogether. And since really good books are so hard to come by, I will do anything to make the experience last.

Today I started a book titled Ask Again Later. I don't know how light and fluffy this book will be, since the story is about a girl who quits her job to tend to her mother who has cancer. But the jacket of the book says something about the author being a writer for The David Letterman Show, and the way I look at it - anyone who writes for David Letterman must have a sense of humor.  I saw the word "hilarious" listed among the book reviews, which is the sole reason I bought the book (that, and I liked the cover!). I'm hoping there is some humor inside the pages, because after reading The Book Thief, humor would be the perfect thing to balance the poignant beauty of the pages I just completed.

Either way, because I am a lover of almost every book I read (The Road is excluded, because it was the worst book in the history of books), I am certain that I will once again be swept away by the words, because, unlike my children, I cherish each and every book that tells me a story.

Want vs. Need

This desire I have to work with color and prints is a need, not a want. I equate the feeling to that of a runner who has the desire to run every single day. The theory is that running (or other forms of exercise) releases endorphins that then give bursts of energy to the mind and body. I get that, because I believe that endorphins do effect a person's level of energy and alertness.

But I'm not a runner. Never have been, never will be. For one thing, I don't like getting sweaty. I also don't like the feeling of jarring and jilting my innards as I pound the pavement and pump my arms. There is something about the thought of my insides jiggling up and down that bugs me and makes me feel awkward and gross. Clearly, running is something I'm not cut out to do. And so although I believe that running releases endorphins, I also believe that there are other ways to do so. Thankfully, years ago I discovered that playing with fabric and colors has the same effect on my body and soul. Maybe actual endorphins aren't released from my brain, but I know for a fact that adrenaline is released, because every single time I step foot in a fabric store, my hearts starts racing and I have to stop and catch my breath. That's how excited and invigorated color makes me feel. Therefore, I've come to conclude that I need to be surrounded by color every single day of my life. And when I think about it, that's not such a bad thing to need.

Last week I was feeling very out of sorts and antsy. I was distracted and unable to concentrate on any one thing and I was making myself crazy with my own lack of focus. It was then that I realized I had not picked up a pair of scissors in over a month. This may not be significant to other people, but for me, it is huge. Scissors are a means to an end for me because it is with scissors that I cut fabric and paper and create all sorts of colorful things. Lack of scissor usage is a sign that I have neglected to fuel my soul with excitement. And yes, I realize that sounds weird... but it is what it is, and for me, that's just the way it goes. I NEED scissors in my life, because scissors open a whole new world.

Thus, the sewing projects. And I have to admit - the endorphins, or adrenaline, or whatever began to flow freely. I was energized like I've not been in weeks. And happy... oh my gosh! I was happy as a little clam sitting in front of the sewing machine piecing together simple blocks of colorful fabric. Happy, happy, joy, joy - those are the only words I have to describe how I feel when I am playing with color. Sewing was just what I needed to pull myself out of the rut I'd fallen into. Even my kids noticed a difference in my attitude. And although they despise how distracted I become when I'm working on a project, Alyssa was very accommodating this time around because one of these quilts was made upon her request.

Two months ago Alyssa fell in love with the quilt I made for my mom's birthday. She begged me to make her one "just like Grammy's". I told her she was lucky because I'd messed up my counting of the 4-square blocks when I made my mom's quilt and I just happened to have enough left over to make a second quilt. When we got the spare blocks out, Alyssa decided to revamp the design and go with a similar daisy print, but not exactly the same. She also decided that pink is *my* color, not *her* color, so she chose to focus on yellow in place of the pink. All this was fine with me, because at this point, I didn't really care what I made, as long as I was making something.

When all was said and done, I'd made two quilts in five days! One for Alyssa to take to college, and one to give as a belated birthday gift to my wonderful sister-in-law, Debbie.

After all that sewing, I now have the need... the desire... the energy to begin preparing my home for the very special visit from my family in June. To say I'm excited doesn't begin to express how I feel about seeing them again. It's been two and a half years since I last saw my mom and sister. And it's been well over five years since the last time Debbie and I were together. That is such a long time to go without spending time with family. Knowing they are coming to visit fills me with the need to "get ready". So let the endorphins and the adrenaline and whatever fill my soul because I've got company coming. YAHOO! I can barely contain myself knowing I will soon be reunited with those I love the most on this earth.

Knowing they will soon be here makes it almost bearable to put away the sewing machine for a while. And cleaning my closets and drawers - heck, I'm actually looking forward to those projects because, just like picking up a pair of scissor, getting ready for company is a means to and end! And just in case my need for color requires fulfillment, I've decided to do some painting. It doesn't involve scissors, but it certainly fits in with the desire to surround myself with color.

I love spring!

In spite of the rain (and we've had a lot), I love springtime. And just as Easter signifies the rebirth of Christ, spring for me brings the rebirth of my soul. There is just something about watching the earth bloom that makes me feel renewed and happy.

Today I walked outside to see what looked like giant snowflakes falling from the sky.  It wasn't really snow (thank goodness), instead, it was the fragile petals of the cherry blossoms falling from the branches of the trees. As far as my eye could see, there were pink and white petals slowly falling to the ground. The grass was covered in what looked like a blanket made of soft, velvety petals. This means that cherry blossom time is almost over and soon the trees will be filled with vivid green leaves instead of beautiful pink and white flowers. And so because the peak of the blossoms lasts for such a short time, I ran inside and grabbed my camera so that I could take a final batch of pictures to document my favorite part of springtime. These will be my last cherry blossom photos until next year, at which time, I will once more gaze at the flowers and try to capture the beauty all over again.

Speaking of color, I eeked out a handful of days to work on two sewing projects that I've been itching to get my hands on. Oh happy day! Fabric + Color = Happy Kelly, because color is what I live for. Today I completed the second project, and I'm now ready to move on to the next item on my list - cleaning my bedroom closet. Clearly, sewing is far more fun than cleaning my closet, and if I had it my way, I'd start yet another sewing project rather than tackle the mess that I've created in the place where I collect clothing. However, something BIG is happening, and I've got a ton of things to do before my mom and step-dad, my sister and my niece, and my sister-in-law and my nephew come to visit for two wonderful weeks in June to honor Alyssa's high school graduation. Therefore, these projects may be the last sewing I do for a while.

Here's a sneak peek at what I've been working on:

I've taken pictures of the end results, but I have a book club meeting tonight and am running out of computer time. So... the final projects will be unveiled tomorrow. In the meantime, I will once again join my book club buddies as I attempt to talk my way out of why it is that another month has gone by and I have not read the assigned book for our monthly discussion. This time, my excuses are 1) Target didn't carry the book, 2) I was reading something else and ran out of time, and 3) to be perfectly honest, I thought the book would upset me, and so I subconsciously opted out with excuses 1 and 2.

For those who are curious, this month's book is titled Eye Contact, by Cammie McGovern. If, after tonight's meeting, my mind changes (it's been known to happen!) and I think the story won't upset me, I will borrow a copy from one of the book club members and read in my [not so] spare time.

And with that... off I go. Tonight we are meeting at my very favorite authentic Italian restaurant, which is most certainly the only reason I am willing to humiliate myself yet again when I admit to my friends that I haven't read the book.

The Book of Alyssa

I look at her and wonder where the time went. She already has one foot out the door. And yet, every once in a while, I see a glimpse of the little girl she used to be. And as her senior year draws to an end, I ask myself over and over again, "Have I done everything I could to prepare her for what is to come?"

I had no idea that parenting a high school senior would be so difficult. It's that one foot out the door thing - she is so ready to move forward. I'm not ready at all. And so the power struggle has become an underlying theme in our world. If she only knew how much I loved her... how much I care... and how proud of her I am - things might be different. As it is, she is fighting for her independence loud and clear, and the only thing she sees is that freedom from oppression is right around the bend. At this point, all I can do is sit back and let her be, because I remember those days - wanting to spread my wings and fly so badly that I didn't take time to enjoy the moment as I deeply longed for the future. And because I remember what it is like, I have to let her do it her way, in her own time, at her own speed, in spite of the fact that things are moving too fast for me.

Today I looked at what has become known as "The Book of Alyssa." This is a picture book containing her favorite senior photos. I've looked at this book a hundred times since lovingly placing it on my living room table. But today, I looked at it not with the eyes of a mother, but with eyes that might possibly be how she views the pages. What I saw was a teenager on the brink of adulthood. And even though I'm not ready, she is. That much I know... she's ready and excited to enter the next phase of her life. And when I look at it like that - I can't help but be excited for her. My memories of college and first time independence are some of the very best memories I have. When I contemplate the person I am today, it is clear to me that much of who I am was discovered all those years ago. I want my daughter to experience the same thing - a journey of self-discovery and personal growth. And so even though I'm not ready to let her go, I know that the time has come. She needs to take those steps towards independence - she's already begun to do so as she looks to the future and says good-bye to her childhood.

Following is a funky slide-show-collage that I put together this afternoon. It shows several pages from The Book of Alyssa. My hope is that when I look at these pages in the future, I will remember what I felt today as I walked down my own memory lane and recalled what it was like to be on the brink of independence. And just in case I forget, all I need to do is pull up these words and remind myself over and over again that it's time for my daughter to begin her own journey, because the truth of the matter is: I don't think I will ever be ready to say good-bye to this precious child, but it is time to let her grow.

Welcome to AARP!

Huh? Seriously. Seriously! Seriously?

Is this an April Fool's Joke? Because if it is, I am NOT laughing. (Okay, I'm laughing a little, but not a whole lot - and certainly not enough to accept this offensive offer.)

This lovely bit of mail arrived with my bills and church newsletter today. Alyssa thought it was hilarious. She made sure to announce to the entire family that "Mom received mail from AARP!" And then she waved it around my head and asked me, "Isn't AARP for old people?"

I am not amused (okay, a little amused, but not much). And for those who have watched even a smidgen of Big Brother this season, I will add that "I am a 46 year old woman. I've given birth to two children. I deserve respect." And while I'm on the subject of respect, since when did 46 years old become an eligible age for AARP? Whose idea was this, anyway? They got me four full years before I hit the big Five-O mark. And even 50 years old is not considered to be a senior citizen. At least, not the last time I checked.

The timing for this invitation could not have been worse. One of the reasons I've been absent from the public eye is because I've been cranky: not just a little cranky, but a whole lot of cranky for a whole lot of weeks. And when I am cranky, even *I* can't stand myself - meaning I did you all a service by keeping my cranky thoughts to myself.

I think the reason I've been cranky is because I'm mad at my body. And I'm pretty sure that my body is to blame for my frame of mind. I'm chalking it up to peri-menopause - that thing that hits before the actual drying up of the womb. Menopause indicates old. Peri-menopause is only the precursor. But it's there... in my face... messing with my moods... messing with my mind... messing with my otherwise healthy body. With this lovely aging process, I've experienced the not-so wonderful addition of chin hair. CHIN HAIR! How absolutely horrifying is that? Who wants to pluck hair from their chin? And to add insult to injury, I can't even see the blasted hair without a magnifying glass because my eyes are not as good as they once were. Toss in some age spots on my face and hands, and more gray hair than I can keep covered with dye... and... well... need I explain why I am mad at my body? It's turning against me. And to be perfectly honest, I despise this. So the fact that AARP decided to pull my name from the database of "almost old" people is rather insulting, taking into account how I've been feeling lately.

My mom loves AARP. She's a proud, card carrying member. She was thrilled the day she turned sixty because it meant all sorts of good things - discounts, benefits, status and respect! And because my mom loves her position as a member of AARP, she's made sure to tell me what a great organization it is. I've always known that someday I would become a member too. But someday isn't today. And someday isn't next year. Heck, someday isn't even this decade! Someday is just that... some day in the distant future - after menopause has dried up my womb and I am officially old and senior-like. I'd like to think that someday is far, far away - sort of like a figment of my imagination.

And so there you have it. AARP has insulted me. They rubbed salt in the wound and offended my senses. I refuse to believe that I am getting old. And in spite of what my body is saying, I remain firm in my belief that age is just a state of mind. My mind is telling me I'm young and vibrant - that I still have many years of song and dance left in me. The way I look at it, my life hasn't reached its peak yet. I'm not even close to peaking. I'm still climbing that mountain and enjoying the journey.

So why, then, is my body defying me? And how, pray tell, does AARP know this?

Rainy Days and Mondays...

This is for Nancy, and Shirley, and Jenny, because they make me laugh.

Nancy is one of my forever friends. She and I shared an apartment back in our working-single-girl days. We were wild. We were poor. We were young. And we had a blast. The memories I have of those days living with Nancy are of some of my very favorites. We haven't seen each other for many years, but because Nancy is such a great friend - she's made it a point to keep in touch... and she doesn't hate me when I don't respond to her emails! Nancy sent me a message on Good Friday. I've not yet responded to her correspondence. *SIGH* I had good intentions, but haven't yet put fingers to the keyboard. Not because I'm ignoring her, but because I've been waiting until I had a chunk of time to respond in a proper manner (more than, "Hi, I'm fine. Happy Easter. Happy Spring.").  Here it is, almost April, and I'm still looking for that chunk of time.

Today Nancy left a comment on my month old blog entry. Her comment was as follows:

Even though it has been snowing here in Washington for the past week, I am ready for a spring look to your site and an update on the life and times of Kelly Edgerton. How about some of those wonderful cherry blossom photos?

I almost choked on my coffee when it popped up in my email. She's a funny girl! And so because she made me laugh, I decided to venture out in the rain to take some cherry blossom photos.

As I was uploading the photos, I received another comment on the month old blog entry. This one made me laugh too. It was from Shirley, my friend who recently moved to Seattle, and whom I also have not returned emails of late:

ummm, pictures, stories, anything???????

It seems we have a theme. I've disappeared, and my friends are wondering what's going on. My sister is right there with them. She called me two weeks ago and told me that although Fiskars was a great company, she was tired of looking at the slide-show. She wanted an update too. She said pretty much the same thing that Shirley and Nancy said:

Pictures? Cherry blossoms? New banner? Something!

And so in honor of the three girls who put a smile on my face, I created a new spring banner and have these pictures to share:

A blog update is forthcoming in the next couple of days. I promise!

In the meantime, I wanted to make sure that the remaining three people who read this blog know that I am not ignoring them. I also wanted to say, "thanks for the giggles." You ladies added a bit of sunshine to an otherwise very rainy and dark Monday.

Smooches!

Fiskars - Sharing the Love and Passing it On

This is what it's all about: sharing the love of crafting. Which is exactly why the Fiskars Certified Demonstrator Program has been introduced. Lucky me! My job is to train others how to share the love as demonstrators.

Last weekend I had the pleasure of training nineteen wonderful women how to demonstrate Fiskars tools and products. The four hour session was a technique based class with a lecture format that included tool-time at the end. And in spite of the fact that I spilled 100 eyelets on the floor and knocked 50 circles off the table, the class was a huge success. When the four hour session was complete, the participants received their official Demonstrator Certification Certificates which allows them to join a group of 1,000 new demonstrators across the nation. This is the first demonstrator program of its kind, and it is very exciting to be participating in the educational side of things. I felt like a proud momma sending her kids off to school for the first time as I handed out the certificates of completion. I can't wait to hear future success stories as these new demonstrators venture out and share their love of crafting with others. All-in-all, it was a day filled with education, fun and newfound friends. Bonus for me: I get to do it all over again in two weeks!

One of the tools that was featured in this training session was the Fiskars Craft Drill. When I first looked at the list and saw that the drill was among the items I needed to teach, I almost backed out of the whole deal. A drill? Me? Not a good combination... or so I thought. And so true to my procrastinating nature, I put off learning how to use the drill for days, and weeks, and even months. As time for the class drew near, I knew that I had no choice - I had to learn how to use the drill... and I had to learn how to use it well enough to teach other to do the same. YIKES. The thought alone intimidated me, because here's the deal: I truly believe that in order to be a successful instructor, one must love what they are teaching - whether it be how to take pictures, how to make scrapbook pages, how to sew a quilt, or how to use a (gasp) drill. And thus, my philosophy that if *I* don't love what I am teaching others, then I have no business being there in the first place. And so with that thought in mind, I knew that I had to find a way to fall in love with a drill (of all things... a drill - I kept wishing it was some kind of newfangled scissors.... those, I could get very excited about).

Enter THE DRILL. I picked it up and looked at it. And then I tried it on for size, holding it this way and that... winding up the handle.... inserting the bits ("the bits," I loved the sound of that word!). I began to envision all sorts of things I could drill holes in - plastic, wood, cd's, chipboard, seashells, and even tin cans. After about an hour, I finally worked up the courage to actually use the darn thing. Right away I achieved success. Holes here, holes there, holes, holes everywhere - including an accidental hole in my kitchen table - right next to the fingernail polish that was spilled over five years ago. When I told my mom about the accidental hole, her comment was, "your kitchen table is a testament of all the things you love." She's right! My kitchen table may not have the shiniest surface, and it may have burns, watermarks, fingernail polish and holes on the top, but it definitely tells the story of how I spend my days. The more I think about it, the more I am liking the new hole in my table!

Below are some pictures of the sample project I finally created using THE DRILL. This hanging canvas frame is a revamp of a project that was shown to those who attended the Fiskars Round Up last November. To alter the original project, I drilled a whole lot of holes and added snaps, ribbon, and flowers because I wanted this canvas frame to be "drill intensive".

When all was said and done, I actually did fall in love with the drill, which made teaching others how t