tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14674009156522672562024-02-07T00:26:19.083-05:00Karol AnnPostings of my so called life and loves.Karolannnorrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09061148318749110175noreply@blogger.comBlogger100125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1467400915652267256.post-82854466386444986882016-04-01T13:28:00.000-04:002016-04-01T13:28:26.437-04:00April FoolsIt has been rainy here off and on, and with the rain comes bugs trying
to get inside away from it. In Florida, that means cockroaches. Here was
my April Fool's joke presented to me by Mother Nature a day early...<br />
<br />
My morning routine is set in stone. By that I mean I consistently complete each step precisely in the same amount of time. My hair is course and curly and when I wash it, I have an exact time frame that I have to dry it in before I have to just get it wet and start all over. This particular morning, I added a step which threw me off completely. I got hungry and decided to eat before I finished my routine instead of after.<br />
<br />
My hair was almost at that critical drying point, so I had to rush to get back on track. If you have course, curly hair, you understand that. I picked up my blow dryer and turned it
on in one motion and aimed it towards my wet but drying head. Apparently, a cockroach had decided to make the inside of my blower
dryer his little home, so as soon as the power kicked in he was blown
directly into my wet hair. OMG<br />
<br />
I did not have my glasses on, but could see
in the mirror that "something" was in my hair. I keep small lobster claw
hair clips all over my bathroom and they are a tortoise shell color
which is the same color as a cockroach. I thought for a split second
that I might have swooped up one of those clips and it flew into my
hair.
Another split second passed and the clip started wiggling. He was
tangled in my curls and trying to free himself. OMG. O. M. G. Normally, the 9 year
old girl inside me would come out. The blow dryer would go flying, I would have squealed in
the highest of pitches, and would have done a high step prance all over my bathroom
until he fell to the floor. But because my glasses weren't on I didn't panic <i>immediately</i>.<br />
<br />
Within a nano second, he freed himself and fell to my shoulder. By then I knew I wasn't dealing with a hair clip. A big squirmy wiggle from me sent him falling to the floor where he scurried away. I'm sure he was thinking the same thing I was. "What the freak was <i>that</i>?! " I told hubs what happened and he said "well, I didn't hear you scream". I'm still shuddering that it happened at all, but grateful I didn't realize it until it was over. Getting older has its perks.<br />
<br />
I have had other close encounters of the roach kind in my
lifetime, and they have all been terrifying. I can't think of anything
more disturbing with which to have an encounter. I guess I should thank
God that my eyesight is poor and spared me the panic until it was really
all over.<br />
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My intention was to insert an image of a cockroach in this post. But looking at them grossed me out. The images of the cartoon ones was even too horrible to consider. So you got puppies. You're welcome.<br />
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Happy April 1st! <br />
<br />
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<br />Karolannnorrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09061148318749110175noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1467400915652267256.post-11082705432399358112016-03-07T09:31:00.001-05:002016-03-07T09:31:33.572-05:00Draw Winky<style>
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My Happy Place has always been wherever I am doing something creative with
my hands. I can spend hours or days in my craft room. It’s where I get inspiration, get lost in my thoughts, let go of
inhibitions and just <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">play</i>.<br />
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The following
stories about my early creative side are so ME.</div>
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In the summer between second and third grade, 1960 I do believe, the public
school near our house had a fun summer school sort of thing. It is not clear in
my adult head, what it actually was because there was no curriculum that I can
recall, just a camp kind of
atmosphere where we went to play. It could have been for a day or two, or
longer, I’m not clear on that part either. I <u>am</u> sure of the time frame because I
attended that public school in second grade before attending Catholic school in
third grade the following year.<br />
I doubt very seriously if it was something my parents had to pay for,
that wasn’t going to happen, but nonetheless, we went to the school for part of
the day and did stuff<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">.</i> Fun stuff.
Like gathering in the auditorium and watching black and white movies. It’s
where I first saw Esther Williams and for those of you too young to know who
she is, she was a swimmer turned movie star and they made movies about, well, swimming - starring
Esther... Busby Berkely at his best. She was beautiful in her one-piece ultra
conservative bathing suits, and she wore spotless makeup and smiled while she
swam. When she took off her swimming cap and shook her head, her hair fell into
a beautifully coiffed-do. I was mesmerized. </div>
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More appropriate to my story, the other fun thing we did at that
summer school was to go to an art room and do projects. I
vividly remember drawing an elephant walking on grass. I added a palm tree
for effect! I was awesome (not) and I was so proud. When I shared it with the teacher he
immediately said “Well, that is the skinniest elephant I’ve ever seen” and he
promptly handed it back to me and walked away. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i><b>What?! </b></i>His obvious disenchantment with my
drawing was shocking! <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Shocking.</i></div>
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A couple of years later, I made the most incredible Father’s
Day card ever (not). I drew a popgun on the front of a folded piece of paper
and wrote “to the best Pop ever” on the inside. See what I did there – Oh, I
was brilliant alright! My dad oohed and ahhed over it and hung it in the garage over
his workbench, obviously so he could look at it all day. Every day.<br />
Eventually I found the
card ripped in half and in his trashcan in the garage and immediately kicked my
little brother’s ass for having the audacity to go in there, take dad’s treasured card and just throw
it away like that.<br />
Tom told me that it wasn’t him but dad who threw it away,
but I just knew he was lying. Like a rug. He had to be. Snickering little liar! That
night, I overheard my dad tell my mom the story, and my heart was broken. Yes, dad was the one who threw my awesome card away.<br />
I’d
love to insert here that I apologized to little Tom and gave him a hug. <i>Bwahaha</i>, I
never apologized for anything. As my grandson says… “I’m sorry for <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">nothing!</i>”</div>
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Forward to 5<sup>th</sup> grade in Catholic school. Our art
assignment was to draw something depicting Egypt. I spent the entire class staring at my paper and looking at papers
around me being drawn by my classmates in hopes that I could copy someone else's idea
(cuz that’s what great artists do) but I had NOTHING. Oh, I knew about sphinx and
pyramids and deserts but I couldn’t make a single mark on my paper. The only thing I drew was a
complete blank. My head was spinning and
my inside voice was saying, “draw SOMETHING!” Instead - I turned in a blank
paper. Blank! I got a D that semester on my report card. In <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">art</i></b>
for Pete’s! And to make it even <u>more</u> horrendous, Father Hagerty circled the D
in red ink before my report card got handed to me. Yes, the pastor of our
church came to each classroom and looked at every single report card in the
front of the class. He was seated at the teacher’s desk with a red ballpoint pen in his
hand. Just watching him make a move towards a report card with that pen
brought audible gasps from the entire class. The red circle of shame, <b>and I got
one. </b>I also got my ass kicked when my parents saw that D.</div>
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In my junior or was it my senior year in high school
(don’t ask me why that time frame is blurry to me) I found a match book with
this on it:</div>
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This was an ad for Art Instruction School of America, and this dear was named Winky. I of course, drew Winky and sent it in. It said... "draw Winky and you too can become a famous artist". Well, Lo and Behold, a
representative of the famous school came knocking on our door soon after, proclaiming I
had soooo much potential and would be the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">perfect</i>
candidate for their at-home art instruction classes.<br />
More than anything this gentleman said, I remember that he had one
arm. I stared at his fake
arm, which was sticking out of the sleeve of his suit jacket. It was very low
tech and actually looked like a department store mannequin’s arm - flesh toned
and stiff. The fingers didn't move. This was the late sixties, so technology hadn't quite kicked in for prosthetics. I only heard about every tenth word of his pitch, because in my head I was saying "don't stare at his arm, don't stare at his arm".<br />
I begggggged my mom to let me
sign up, and looking back on it all, I am amazed that she agreed, but she did!
I know it was beyond our budget, but I <u>swore</u> I’d do all the assignments
and become a great artist with a brilliant career.<br />
<br />
So there I was, a student in
Art Instruction School’s at-home art classes. They sent me real supplies, like a wooden
drawing board and pencils and chalks and charcoal and water colors. This is how it worked: they
provided you with an assignment every few weeks or so, to which you would read the
instructions on how to do the technique, then you used the supplied tools to complete the
assignment. After completion, you sent back your paper to the school. When it came back after grading, there
were some critiquing notes on the pages - written in red ink of course, the color
of shame - and a letter grade at the top. I’m pretty sure I was a solid C
student. I'm not kidding - it was the man-art-teacher-who-hated-my-elephant <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">all over again</i>. I don’t remember how many assignments I did before
I quit… But I do know my mom made me finish making the monthly payments until the contract was
done. In my own defense, you can read all day long how to use watercolors (or any other technique), but figuring out how to actually do it on your own was difficult. </div>
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Turns out, I wasn’t the perfect candidate for at-home art
instruction. Surprise! But that wooden drawing board came in real handy later
during my apartment years. I used it as a weapon to hurl like a frisbee on top of gigantic roaches or spiders that creeped their way in.<br />
<br />
Thank you Art Instruction Schools, I
have no
diploma, no brilliant art career. Just a smack on the back of the head from my mother ("I <i>told</i> you so, you never finish anything") and the memory of a frightfully bad artificial limb burned eternally into the front of it.</div>
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Karolannnorrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09061148318749110175noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1467400915652267256.post-88396041361912143512016-02-29T15:27:00.002-05:002016-02-29T15:27:35.198-05:00Time FliesWell there ya go. A year and a half later, here I am back on my blog. A lot has happened in that time, some good, some not so good, but as the saying goes, "life goes on". My gut wants me to go political and say something about this crazy presidential election. On a daily basis, I have my fingers in my ears, saying <b>la la la la la la</b> so I can't hear all the nonsense. I have made myself a promise not to go there. You're welcome.<br />
<br />
So I will stay in a happy place and talk about what brings me joy. I am 2 years and 10 months away from retirement from my day job. But who's counting?! Well, I believe that I <i>AM</i> counting. After that, my joy will be multiplied because I will be in <i>creative mode</i> all day every day for as long as my head and heart are in it. Where it's Christmas every day and my floors are covered in glitter no matter how many times I mop, vacuum, or sweep.<br />
<br />
Our craftshow successes have certainly been a highlight of the last year and a half. We are planning this year to add one more big show to our schedule, so production has been beefed up. Our little snowmen have been very well received by our followers. I can't believe we have followers, but we do. It's a very rewarding part of crafting. Hearing that someone appreciates what we do makes us very happy, almost as much as getting paid for what we do.<br />
<br />
We met this weekend at my house to create another batch of snowmen. I must say it's a large pre-production getting ready, mainly because we have crates and crates and crates full of tiny parts, ribbon, beads, wire, glue, rhinestones, baubles, glitter, watch parts, and of course bottles, all of which are stored in my guest room and have to be dragged out to my kitchen where we work off of three 6 ft tables, a 4 ft table, and a card table. We desperately need a studio. But since we are 60 miles apart, that isn't an option.<br />
<br />
Here are some cuties being assembled.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ3XhzyZA0ACQ8pK49h8FHulcNDGt5UoO0bcQuKyArWuQcnbb4bFxFMr3o2-dyFlo0M1cGKPSBlavb9bXZMTrM9TPC8hvYGFH9t3BYARPYmcVCzK4UtHm1Rlce6VP-7lTErVWX3GLAg4w/s1600/IMG_2981.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ3XhzyZA0ACQ8pK49h8FHulcNDGt5UoO0bcQuKyArWuQcnbb4bFxFMr3o2-dyFlo0M1cGKPSBlavb9bXZMTrM9TPC8hvYGFH9t3BYARPYmcVCzK4UtHm1Rlce6VP-7lTErVWX3GLAg4w/s640/IMG_2981.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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We've come a loooong way in our thought process and design. When we first started, our snowmen had funky parts for eyes, noses, and mouths. It got a little over the top, so after listening to our customers say that they wanted more traditional looking snowmen we reeled ourselves in. <br />
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Here are some pictures of our latest batch in the drying process and awaiting glitter.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj63c4lR74rZivSynw7LFxyYbFQS8GFSEj0n92kiFPkh2wkskVFUSiq214T67R4GztOzG8dYlPrjysgQNYw-BmnaPxAp4bTsPS1-TQQPx56Ra8PHUjdN8dkhbG6-Mz9PGgsoKZJKdOTt2g/s1600/getPart-1.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj63c4lR74rZivSynw7LFxyYbFQS8GFSEj0n92kiFPkh2wkskVFUSiq214T67R4GztOzG8dYlPrjysgQNYw-BmnaPxAp4bTsPS1-TQQPx56Ra8PHUjdN8dkhbG6-Mz9PGgsoKZJKdOTt2g/s640/getPart-1.jpg" width="640" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjImvMKaZz5h3CmIajhh3oP_ey5QhvnIAmo_1pmyAe10_jWBXvwgk4-9Qqxdka101kawV2eSkj7-OS4dAOrf8zflt3cVzOKT7yMthHEoakLmep-u9667wjJQi5us5YdQ2nrvDUhoxMQmAU/s1600/getPart.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjImvMKaZz5h3CmIajhh3oP_ey5QhvnIAmo_1pmyAe10_jWBXvwgk4-9Qqxdka101kawV2eSkj7-OS4dAOrf8zflt3cVzOKT7yMthHEoakLmep-u9667wjJQi5us5YdQ2nrvDUhoxMQmAU/s640/getPart.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitr0sBS3kvRNPSOHLogYjVx2gapyvn8wTztdBEo8a0QNYhf2M6iI38SFaPe67GtB3lljDllPjh_f_PYJDPLPK97oXvS14J5YFuiTvYBuhjrEKJoPsLPcWY0ebSVNrpu14HstdNqVzlvN8/s1600/one.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitr0sBS3kvRNPSOHLogYjVx2gapyvn8wTztdBEo8a0QNYhf2M6iI38SFaPe67GtB3lljDllPjh_f_PYJDPLPK97oXvS14J5YFuiTvYBuhjrEKJoPsLPcWY0ebSVNrpu14HstdNqVzlvN8/s640/one.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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<br />
We have expanded way beyond snowmen and added several upcycled craft items. We've made wreaths using burned out Christmas bulbs that have been glittered.<br />
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<br />
The "before" bulbs<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFG6lKUF2g_eh8RtyxRt0wAYvpx3X6eaatRshj6M4EoFDNw_z87fX40WQRR2Dh8nVR-K_zVfUuW1CXKUmolUnFrbFPTDZSJWqoINOY2eQXZgDptQxP1l-6aQ_-Kd_J3tqJwceRSzISlrY/s1600/IMG_8987.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFG6lKUF2g_eh8RtyxRt0wAYvpx3X6eaatRshj6M4EoFDNw_z87fX40WQRR2Dh8nVR-K_zVfUuW1CXKUmolUnFrbFPTDZSJWqoINOY2eQXZgDptQxP1l-6aQ_-Kd_J3tqJwceRSzISlrY/s400/IMG_8987.jpeg" width="300" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKEpH6gT8fDdgN8uZpG02DxxiJUzEHyVcMPXh2dM2iPlRYnaOze3YHvNuVwkEFgh8rkynf1u6e3qzRzXjgH9hT56eR4nFaUZgnUVyvCDzIJ6rnLynL6smSq050bZ5BOzLZCZXOnGXAKb8/s1600/IMG_2495.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKEpH6gT8fDdgN8uZpG02DxxiJUzEHyVcMPXh2dM2iPlRYnaOze3YHvNuVwkEFgh8rkynf1u6e3qzRzXjgH9hT56eR4nFaUZgnUVyvCDzIJ6rnLynL6smSq050bZ5BOzLZCZXOnGXAKb8/s640/IMG_2495.JPG" width="480" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDrtHHRKofolEmaXu4RuDcJvyn7edtgYeKJX2j4dVtXmkZDVMrYWnWxYsTRnfgeL1y01uteQR8uHW024hyphenhyphenHKrEt_XmocrWCQu4pJ5Wbs6iSKUoHu8divUQABxvoN3OaUbhvjQ3FsDRLFw/s1600/IMG_6341.jpeg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDrtHHRKofolEmaXu4RuDcJvyn7edtgYeKJX2j4dVtXmkZDVMrYWnWxYsTRnfgeL1y01uteQR8uHW024hyphenhyphenHKrEt_XmocrWCQu4pJ5Wbs6iSKUoHu8divUQABxvoN3OaUbhvjQ3FsDRLFw/s640/IMG_6341.jpeg" width="480" /></a><br />
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A closeup of the bulbs, so pretty! <br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8nt7feCTUhAQrGR8pcuUobQncE0gIn7tclyrITIR4sXk7XWDqgY0LR7OWeHvP34GbzkVlDZOiwB8EHtLiQwEoaxBbmTtTrND3vUXgoWNow6sGNcT5cgNVS5qTfkiKfKk7wTg3JspYQso/s1600/closeup.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8nt7feCTUhAQrGR8pcuUobQncE0gIn7tclyrITIR4sXk7XWDqgY0LR7OWeHvP34GbzkVlDZOiwB8EHtLiQwEoaxBbmTtTrND3vUXgoWNow6sGNcT5cgNVS5qTfkiKfKk7wTg3JspYQso/s640/closeup.jpg" width="498" /></a><br />
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... dioramas using vintage lanterns and bubblegum machines.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKsLQKNQhyUMaARcAOBapvx9LFQvqUp2dc6t36DLZJIwKeqPAq904SmyMEMnoxLJZ0otFtFKNNcGYSTOXQ9BanKMhltddx6usSJeWe0T8zILIPdUxIXPhzV5aLUmA3lNIbYI1KMFMVcRs/s1600/IMG_4662.jpeg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKsLQKNQhyUMaARcAOBapvx9LFQvqUp2dc6t36DLZJIwKeqPAq904SmyMEMnoxLJZ0otFtFKNNcGYSTOXQ9BanKMhltddx6usSJeWe0T8zILIPdUxIXPhzV5aLUmA3lNIbYI1KMFMVcRs/s640/IMG_4662.jpeg" width="480" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqEaIiqmVJ-mcRcld-gP86TL9lAaTjwnZ2BtTkmHblwIBJ80dRNK79bt4S0H9m_2Ql0JRO1lUuTWVcM0h45DkfMITf5pKVJv9h79_aIj1e_S5n4avlycL6vjWiMgYjcbT3h04CJG_Ya5E/s1600/IMG_4003.jpeg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqEaIiqmVJ-mcRcld-gP86TL9lAaTjwnZ2BtTkmHblwIBJ80dRNK79bt4S0H9m_2Ql0JRO1lUuTWVcM0h45DkfMITf5pKVJv9h79_aIj1e_S5n4avlycL6vjWiMgYjcbT3h04CJG_Ya5E/s640/IMG_4003.jpeg" width="480" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Fa6ljp2jOr8dUdO8VIBH77PbmbQWro5ndfOAqiEjIxFvc9FUfefFvB6iKOa5xkLQxnKn9oPlmyDgoAdW5S2xwL6pStQXbdVpnbCVeFwdDyFcBPaHVM66DrdV14VUv65z9oZq2rNbY0Q/s1600/IMG_8985.jpeg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Fa6ljp2jOr8dUdO8VIBH77PbmbQWro5ndfOAqiEjIxFvc9FUfefFvB6iKOa5xkLQxnKn9oPlmyDgoAdW5S2xwL6pStQXbdVpnbCVeFwdDyFcBPaHVM66DrdV14VUv65z9oZq2rNbY0Q/s640/IMG_8985.jpeg" width="480" /></a><br />
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And wine gift tags/ornaments from used wine corks.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYbKSS3Y77D1dGojnVqoDbJX5VXgmp4jcnQIcvrGl2QX6sIdMmLTPjvi8fPWTsMQ-_NWXkWIkS-gZxgLwom5PvVb1vCk8JoQX2ZKTpEtUHei5ZMKY9P0iawpl_p1_lNchB-iK6Efb-tDQ/s1600/cork.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYbKSS3Y77D1dGojnVqoDbJX5VXgmp4jcnQIcvrGl2QX6sIdMmLTPjvi8fPWTsMQ-_NWXkWIkS-gZxgLwom5PvVb1vCk8JoQX2ZKTpEtUHei5ZMKY9P0iawpl_p1_lNchB-iK6Efb-tDQ/s640/cork.jpg" width="292" /></a><br />
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Thanks for looking. My promise to myself is to journal more about things that make me happy. Leave me a comment! I'd love to hear from you.<br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Karol</span></span>Karolannnorrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09061148318749110175noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1467400915652267256.post-21035578283129862272014-07-25T16:54:00.001-04:002014-07-26T11:35:08.122-04:00Making a scrapbook from a wine bagI was asked to create a going away present for one of our administrators. They wanted a scrapbook, but not an ordinary one, that could hold photos and quotes from all of the principals in our school district.<br />
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When they asked me to do this, it was near the Christmas holidays and the stores were already full of holiday stash. I was shopping at Big Lots and came across these awesome bags intended for holding wine bottles...<br />
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They're a dark purple with a fabulous metallic prism effect. When folded in half, there are 5 surfaces, front and back, for adding pages and a bonus pouch in the middle for a pullout pocket. I folded each one, cut a piece of coordinated background paper from this pack I got at Michael's.<br />
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And they ended up looking like this...<br />
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This is one of the pouch pockets.<br />
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I cut the rope handles and planned a way to use them in my binding. I gathered all six bags and measured the depth, length, and height to determine how big my scrapbook was going to be. I used foam board to make the outside. I'd give dimensions, but it was based on the bag I purchased, and would only work with that bag. It was simply a matter of stacking the bags on top of each other and measuring them, allowing for the "middles" to be pushed closer together where they are bound.<br />
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To bind the bags to the scrapbook, I tied each one by wrapping the cord around the folded bag onto the spine of the scrapbook.<br />
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I frayed the ends of the cord just for interest and texture. Each principal provided me with pictures and quotes, so I added them to all of the pages and inside the pouch pockets.<br />
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I embellished each page with stickers and the end result was beautiful! I kind of had in my head what it was going to look like, but the actual end result was much better than I imagined. I think the color choices were a big part of the success.<br />
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In the end, I decided it needed a box to stay stored in, so I used more foam board to create one. I just measured the finished scrapbook, and came up with the measurements for my box.<br />
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I Modpodged more of the same background paper all around the sides and top. Note: Modpodge on foam board creates bubbles, but it isn't horrible. Just not perfect!<br />
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The finished box, is embellished with buttons and stickers. I also added some purple satin ribbon along the edges of the box to cover up the score lines in the foam board.<br />
My administrator friend was thrilled with her gift! Tada! <br />
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The whole process wasn't all that difficult, but I will admit, it was time consuming. Mostly because I was creating it as I went, but I was very happy with the end results.<br />
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Karolannnorrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09061148318749110175noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1467400915652267256.post-48521878843929797472014-07-21T19:38:00.000-04:002014-07-21T19:38:38.517-04:00Dear Jane
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<div class="MsoNormal">
A commercial flashed as I was watching TV and it was a promo
for a Queen Latifah’s show. Jane Fonda was a guest and they showed a little flash
of a moment of Jane walking out on stage. Holy Shit, she looked amazing! I
Googled <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Jane Fonda Queen Latifah</i> and whoopty do, up popped several still pictures of Ms. Fonda on set. Here she
is at 77 freakin years old! SEVENTY SEVEN!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6vvInLeZ14DaC-z9eO2rN-e-BaTgu1lChQnI73DSmErxnlA0ZZtnhWKKJCNlz9-3-1hdlw2kuZfHna4uwzFSZUWxvenYRPcRHkueLMuTwG1-_q-ri0id_2dhyUaSxMDFZzjVYwK3BFPw/s1600/140317_janefonda_closeup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6vvInLeZ14DaC-z9eO2rN-e-BaTgu1lChQnI73DSmErxnlA0ZZtnhWKKJCNlz9-3-1hdlw2kuZfHna4uwzFSZUWxvenYRPcRHkueLMuTwG1-_q-ri0id_2dhyUaSxMDFZzjVYwK3BFPw/s1600/140317_janefonda_closeup.jpg" height="320" width="302" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Yes, I know we could all look that good if we had unlimited
funds and access to the best plastic surgeons, but before you judge, let me
remind you of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">these</i> faces… who also
have big bucks and docs at their beck and call and, well, you know… they look <i>different</i>. That's the nicest thing I can say. I do believe genetics has served Ms. Fonda well.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguBcGbZSlZKaGncaAKUZSiATY_O3VlNKeOsfgNLuqwKTBstLiK0BFGf7-hU71dQZDloJ99q97oIMgIRCZZzseCxL8o2CLnpwVh9h9TKOmH66D1ktJ90VSRkfyHvxJAkDwX8NN5w7l6PZc/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-07-21+at+7.06.59+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguBcGbZSlZKaGncaAKUZSiATY_O3VlNKeOsfgNLuqwKTBstLiK0BFGf7-hU71dQZDloJ99q97oIMgIRCZZzseCxL8o2CLnpwVh9h9TKOmH66D1ktJ90VSRkfyHvxJAkDwX8NN5w7l6PZc/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-07-21+at+7.06.59+PM.png" height="155" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1iperYeKw3hqpeO8jgRhDp7nMrWLpoHPZBcwdWMs_lw3oTUAp1o68plR8pMSvOKzeofs2kg91-FVAvpgADUOHqHRaSGRIhcuB3i0O97P6k4hZrlOd-nIT3YZiCjIFiRdejjrEG47uHS4/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-07-21+at+7.03.15+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1iperYeKw3hqpeO8jgRhDp7nMrWLpoHPZBcwdWMs_lw3oTUAp1o68plR8pMSvOKzeofs2kg91-FVAvpgADUOHqHRaSGRIhcuB3i0O97P6k4hZrlOd-nIT3YZiCjIFiRdejjrEG47uHS4/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-07-21+at+7.03.15+PM.png" height="154" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKJehbiNaOTJqpgBp5Etobkj-zRYavUigMZ9IrV6_l0C3dLUSqlG4Q7-Uzc0Sofs33ORXLh1J6kTKloEDj7ijGJBaYM1km6wWt_ywSxf6JlUPfRSG_VblErZapHqNsRXOsNfv1W-yJ35o/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-07-21+at+6.56.42+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKJehbiNaOTJqpgBp5Etobkj-zRYavUigMZ9IrV6_l0C3dLUSqlG4Q7-Uzc0Sofs33ORXLh1J6kTKloEDj7ijGJBaYM1km6wWt_ywSxf6JlUPfRSG_VblErZapHqNsRXOsNfv1W-yJ35o/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-07-21+at+6.56.42+PM.png" height="187" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After Googling her age, because I was curious, I tripped
over her quote regarding aging and emotions:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">"But I find my emotions are way more accessible than they were when I
was younger and I've come to feel it has to do with age. I have become so
wonderfully, terribly aware of time, of how little of it I have left; how much
of it is behind me, and everything becomes so precious.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">"With age, I am able to appreciate the beauty in small things more than
when I was younger perhaps because I pay attention more. I feel myself becoming
part of everything, as if I bleed into other people's joy and pain. Maybe,
without my being conscious of it, there's the reality that in a few decades (if
I'm lucky) I will be in the earth, fertilizing some of the very things I look
at now and tear up over."</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><b>I love that!</b> I too feel more weepy now than I
ever have been, and well up at the silliest things. I have also become much
more aware of my time left on earth and realize the insignificance of things
that I once thought so precious. Like stuff I have collected. I have looked around my house
with older eyes and no longer see treasures. I see <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">stuff</i>, that’s only value is to add a little pleasant aesthetics to
my every day view. I now yearn for the things money can’t buy like <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Time</b>; <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Solitude</b>; <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Tranquility; Joy. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></b><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">And</i>
maybe, just maybe, I’d like to get rid of the turkey neck I inherited
genetically (thanks dad). I want <i>Jane’s</i> neck, and her hair, and that fabulous
smile. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Dear Jane, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">You kind of scared me in the
60’s, but I think you are and always have been a beautiful woman. Seventy seven, Jane! Dayum! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">OK, you are officially on my <i>fantasy dinner
with fantasy friends</i> list. You’re in good company. Who would you like to sit
next to? Your choices are…</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Bob Keeshan (a gentle hero from my childhood)</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Fred Rogers (although it’s hard to picture
him without also picturing Eddie Murphy & SNL, he is another gentle hero I
admire)</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Marilyn Monroe (I want to apologize to her
for all of society who ate her up and spit her out)</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Jane Goodall (flawless dedication to her
cause)</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Walter Cronkite (I trusted him as much as I
trust God)</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Mohammad Ali (charisma at its finest)</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">And me. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I promise not to stare too much. Ha! Who am I
kidding! I’m going to stare the crap out of you after I hug the crap out of
everybody else. Call me.</span><br />
Karolannnorrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09061148318749110175noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1467400915652267256.post-50187284970192874792014-05-28T06:54:00.000-04:002014-05-28T06:54:04.755-04:00The Spirit Tree
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh91bc7YB_648MBepJFjTv71SXL5KuRRkiOSkFJb8sPWMEz35AiIOb-UGnL5PdRub7FA9zoH0LjwFVn5a5rPsItKP9KHgCvPr7RRvDe0J2I_FLiejaEMmxZ4TVLtA8zPwT4cF9Pmkn3B_Y/s1600/4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh91bc7YB_648MBepJFjTv71SXL5KuRRkiOSkFJb8sPWMEz35AiIOb-UGnL5PdRub7FA9zoH0LjwFVn5a5rPsItKP9KHgCvPr7RRvDe0J2I_FLiejaEMmxZ4TVLtA8zPwT4cF9Pmkn3B_Y/s1600/4.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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My maternal grandmother had the ability, like my mother, to
make me pee myself a little when she walked in the room. Grandma was cranky,
and angry. Those are my perceived memories, anyway. Don’t get me wrong, she
loved us, we knew it, and loved her back. She had 11 children and lost her
husband when her youngest was 3. She had to be strong and like most of her
generation, did what needed to be done without complaining or assistance from
the government. Hell, I’d be cranky too.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She came to visit us once when she was 65 years old. She was
crippled with arthritis in her knees, and had gray permed haired. She wore the
typical housedress that women of her era wore, and had old-school nylon
stockings. She wore them everyday, and she would start her day with them rolled
down to her ankles until she went out and about. Then, they got rolled up and
secured to her girdle/garter belt. <br />
They were not pantyhose, those weren’t even invented yet, but <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Stockings</i>… the kind you bought at a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Stocking Counter</i> in the department stores,
and the sales clerk usually put them folded nicely in tissue, inside a special long,
flat “stocking box”. And they were shaped like a curvy leg, not like the big
wad you get nowadays in a package of pantyhose. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On that visit, she was cooking supper and I was assigned to
help her. Being the good military child that I was, I never volunteered for a
chore. I didn’t need to… they were assigned to us on a daily basis. She was not
happy with the way I was peeling the potatoes and yelled at me for peeling them
with a knife instead of a potato peeler. “YOU’’RE WASTING HALF OF THE POTATO!”
Yes, in caps because it was loud and angry. When my eyes welled up, she said
something like “go on tell your mama, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">big
baby</i>”. If I felt like doing the math, I could tell you what year that was
and how old I was, but since math makes my butt hurt, we’ll let that go. I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">can</i> tell you I was old enough for that
to make a lifelong impression.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">What I took from that
moment was</i> <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I didn’t ever want to live
to be 65</i>. In my mind, she was old and miserable and just <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">had</i> to be near death. I prayed in my
best Catholic prayers for God to let me die before <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">I</b> turned 65. I prayed that for a LOT of years. Well, I am now 62,
and not <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">anything</i> like my grandma. My
hair is gray, but you’d never know it. My hairdresser makes sure of that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I watch <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">What
Not To Wear</i> faithfully and apply those rules to my wardrobe. Stacy and
Clinton are my best friends. I’m healthy and happy, and although I have my
cranky moments, I mostly bury those so deep no one knows about them.</div>
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<br /></div>
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My Grandma lived another 30 plus years, and got a little
softer with time. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">A little.</i> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Life is hard and should be so much easier when you reach
your 90’s. It isn’t. It is confusing, and sad, and depressing… for the seniors
and their families getting them through it. I bless my siblings every single
day for tenderly caring for mom. We have learned first hand that a retirement
home is a somewhat safe place but without constant supervision from a loved
one, it is a scary place. It has been an eye opening experience for all of us.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I don’t think I’m ready to go yet, but my prayers are
different. I don’t know what’s in my fate as far as a death scenario goes, and
glad I don’t. If I could choose, it would be a peaceful moment. Let me just not
wake up one day. Don’t we all wish for that? Just let me go <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">way</i> before the Assisted Living Years. No
Depends, no mush at the dinner table. No wheelchair gatherings around a TV in a
communal lobby. Dear Lord, no. Please.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have a lot of hopes in my life, but my biggest hope is
that my children and grandchildren have fond, loving, warm-fuzzy memories about
their mama/grandma. I found this awesome link on the big www.com that meets my
wants for my after life. Take a look here. It may sound crazy to some, but it
is totally up my alley.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://www.thespiritree.com/">http://www.thespiritree.com/</a><span class="MsoHyperlink"></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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It is, in a nutshell, an urn of sorts that you mix human
ashes (from a cremation) with a tree seedling, and the tree absorbs the calcium
rich ash, and grows to be a big tree in memory of the loved one. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I love that idea</i>. Really, go to the
link. It’s awesome. If my children are reading this, bookmark the link, please.
That’s my living wish. Seriously. Find a nice place where my grandchildren and
great grandchildren can come visit the tree, and plop me down. Gigi’s tree! A
nice deciduous elm would be nice. Yeah, that’s what I want…Yellow and red
leaves in the fall, and beautiful bright green leaves in the spring. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hang a swing from one of my strong branches,
so I can cradle my babies, and their babies… A sweet Spirit Tree.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
Karolannnorrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09061148318749110175noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1467400915652267256.post-12994501514577796692014-01-30T18:57:00.000-05:002014-01-30T18:57:31.354-05:00Christmas Treasures
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">This post is a little
late since it is more than a month since Christmas, but I, like the rest of the
world got caught up in all the hustle bustle business of “December” which bled
over into “January”. My grandchildren are the center of my universe and every
ounce of the joy they bring me lights up my dark places and keeps me centered
and humble. Please forgive the tardiness, but read on.</i></div>
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This year my boys are 5 and 6 and full of pure rambunctious energy.
I know no one on earth more loud than these two boys except maybe their dad,
and when they are out in public, you know it. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Inside voices?... fuhgettaboutit. Baby K is
almost 2, and the sweetest angel on earth. I started a tradition two years ago
when the boys were <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">very</i> young, and I
hope it’s one we can continue as long as I am around. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Since they are from a split family, they have
a long list of people in their lives who love them as much as I do, but this
tradition is for their mama’s side of the family. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Hi Ho Hi Ho it’s Off to Dollar Tree We Go </i>with a list in hand of
their loved ones so they can each pick out a gift to them for Christmas. I
wish I could capture a picture of the entire experience, but believe me,
handling a toddler and two wild boys by myself is an adventure of its own and
the distraction of a camera would be just enough to send me over the edge.</div>
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This trip, baby sis got to ride in the cart and “helped”
pick out candy and cookies for herself, which consisted of pointing and
grunting through that binky - Maggie Simpson style - but the biggest
entertainment of the day for me was watching my boys so very thoughtfully and
very carefully pick out each gift for everyone on their lists. First on the
list was <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Mom</i>… she got a new makeup
brush from one and some eye shadow from the other. Next up was mom’s beau. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx7E2vTuyx84pgvRkeXx5hQRHkC4xf63VPn9PspwN2JufR7oIAPUpk8Ognkv2DYHN2ab3LiCRR_W_Rn6mO-2-dIqrv7XqFCJ8MZzaKJ-MPtkrqBmFKax6YYeIVXYUFXYuWL6dMC91IOqU/s1600/IMG_0111.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx7E2vTuyx84pgvRkeXx5hQRHkC4xf63VPn9PspwN2JufR7oIAPUpk8Ognkv2DYHN2ab3LiCRR_W_Rn6mO-2-dIqrv7XqFCJ8MZzaKJ-MPtkrqBmFKax6YYeIVXYUFXYuWL6dMC91IOqU/s1600/IMG_0111.JPG" height="400" width="298" /></a></div>
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Braydon (here) said, after picking up a box of cookies, “momma bought some of
these once and he LOVED them so, so much, so I want to get these for him”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He bought a spinner toy for beau’s son “I’ll
teach him how to use it”. </div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9UL-91CuPdoAm_ARKElPzs9QO0YSt5_Bjg_fCzm2A5fu5PwF4xIdqjzpqy6s6Qerv74vog4veXpVKCdWOfOzjClftTRdPZ6fVm3bD56rVrFY8cHRGhq9ecm3i8EYiLglDAZj4QRrER_c/s1600/IMG_0094.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9UL-91CuPdoAm_ARKElPzs9QO0YSt5_Bjg_fCzm2A5fu5PwF4xIdqjzpqy6s6Qerv74vog4veXpVKCdWOfOzjClftTRdPZ6fVm3bD56rVrFY8cHRGhq9ecm3i8EYiLglDAZj4QRrER_c/s1600/IMG_0094.JPG" height="400" width="298" /></a></div>
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Mason (here, with baby K) said “Papa is always out of batteries, so I’m
getting these for him”. He also picked out some play money for beau’s son “he’ll
like this, I think there’s about $350 dollars in there!” and he found some beef
jerky for his carnivorous uncle. “Mmmm, yummy, I like this beef stuff too.” He
slipped a box of cookies behind his back and into the cart so baby sis couldn’t
see her gift. She didn’t even notice as she had already picked out a box of
Lifesaver Gummies for herself. She calls them “nummies” and for the entire ride
in her cart, she held them up to me and said “Open. Nummies.” over and over
again. The explanation of having to pay for them first went on deaf ears, but
she didn’t fuss and eventually I gave in to her sweet baby face and opened them
for her. Not the first time I've done that, I'll admit that here.</div>
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Let me share that I had old ladies smiling and cupping
their mouths with delight and complimenting me on the manners of my boys as
they kept saying <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">excuse me</i> to get by
people in the narrow aisles and the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">yes
ma’ams</i> were flowing like melted buttah. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Oh my, these are the most polite children!”
“You can tell they’ve been raised right, you must be very proud!” (If they
could only see the thought bubble over my head at that moment, the same one I
had when I first heard words of praise from my daughter’s Kindergarten teacher.
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">This</i> thought… “Wait, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">my</i> child? Are you <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">sure</i> there isn’t another child with the same name in your class?”)
If the People of Dollar Tree only knew how wild these boys can be or how many
times they’d been taken out of stores by a frustrated and exhausted mama… but
not today. Today they were incredible and good as gold. And I said thank you very much to every fellow shopper.</div>
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I’m not sure what happened, a little Christmas magic
perhaps, but whatever it was I’ll take it. They’re learning an important
message about giving from the heart. Even a simple $1 gift, given with love is
what the whole idea of gift giving is all about. Choosing the wrapping paper
and writing the names on the tags was important to them too. </div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">My</i> gift from them
was the pleasure of witnessing selfless acts of love for the people who mean
the most to them. Thank you for the Merriest Christmas ever, my sweet grandtots, I couldn’t have
asked for anything better. I love you more than you’ll ever know.</div>
Karolannnorrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09061148318749110175noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1467400915652267256.post-65850850432895572822013-12-11T07:55:00.000-05:002013-12-11T07:55:16.517-05:00Snowflakes!
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I recently went to search for decorations at The Dollar Tree for our
office Christmas cookie exchange party and stumbled on the wall of snowflakes
they have to offer. I bought a handful of different shapes and sizes, some
having multiple in a package, some only one. </div>
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I laid them all out on my workspace into a wreath shape then
began hot gluing the places where the tips touched. And as simple as that, I
have a beautiful snowflake wreath and glittery ribbon that cost all of $5. With
it hung on a mirror, it makes it look twice as pretty and twice as glittery.
Love it!!</div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy3lQQjsFyIXn5uyEZ8rZhShGtgFKOWLCe3P5LP2W-QaC3gFtMajTiOeVxBq0qnIdiBD-6gs3jBi6vHnUehntT1pnJSWgimJ0341okoQfK63u77vv0RpXWrHgboO_o5WwVcFEuZCsiaZ4/s1600/get-attachment.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy3lQQjsFyIXn5uyEZ8rZhShGtgFKOWLCe3P5LP2W-QaC3gFtMajTiOeVxBq0qnIdiBD-6gs3jBi6vHnUehntT1pnJSWgimJ0341okoQfK63u77vv0RpXWrHgboO_o5WwVcFEuZCsiaZ4/s640/get-attachment.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Karolannnorrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09061148318749110175noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1467400915652267256.post-10352530421079615332013-11-25T10:53:00.000-05:002013-11-25T10:53:36.574-05:00Quirky is as Quirky does
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK8ilzPMwnxRrmhb9TQrb7s3XBcyrB-2FGFjU20XOpLQQHOualg35urccbqsBFnopA-VfByrV4KN1yk712Mrx9sdEj2TYQvXVs2cCk5T4DKx9So73rQeXPj7aNfv16qWodC2m7AY_HfuA/s1600/lollipop-390x600.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK8ilzPMwnxRrmhb9TQrb7s3XBcyrB-2FGFjU20XOpLQQHOualg35urccbqsBFnopA-VfByrV4KN1yk712Mrx9sdEj2TYQvXVs2cCk5T4DKx9So73rQeXPj7aNfv16qWodC2m7AY_HfuA/s400/lollipop-390x600.jpg" width="260" /></a></div>
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I’m a sucker for a lot of things… mostly things that I’d
like to think <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">all</i> people are suckers
for, like crying babies, or injured animals, or a sweet old couple still walking hand
in hand after 60 something years of marriage, the kind of things that tug at your heart and make you weak in the
knees. The kind of things that make you put your guard down for a minute or two
and step out of that cozy comfort zone to offer a hand for someone in need. </div>
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But I’m also a sucker for a few weird things, things that
might define me as quirky. I don’t mind being called quirky. Really, we all
have some degree of quirkiness, that’s what makes us fun and interesting. The
quirkiless (I just made that a word) people are the boring ones. I wouldn’t
want to be friends with a quirkiless person.</div>
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• I’m a sucker for Christmas music. I’m listening to it now,
and have been since last week. All day every day, and all the way up to
Christmas day. Then I’m done until next year. My son would hate that, being the Scrooge that he
is. (Where did he get that from?!) But I have my Pandora station loaded with
awesome artists and songs. In general, I can't stand Celine Dionne, but I will listen the heck out of her Christmas albums. Isn’t there something so soothing about hearing a
Christmas song? It brings calm to my otherwise hectic November and December. </div>
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• I’m a sucker for my grandchildren. I was a pretty hardass
mom, kept ‘em in line and all that, but now I seem to have that mellow grandma
thing going on and will do just about anything they want that makes them happy
or smile for a minute.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We get silly and
play, and have Happy Meals, and watch Sponge Bob Squarepants together. “Gigi,
can I have a Fruit Rollup?” Yes you can. “Can I have another Fruit Rollup,
Gigi?” Yes, yes you can.</div>
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• I’m a sucker for my children, both adults now, and they
mean the world to me. My heart hurts when they are in pain, and I am filled
with true joy when they are happy. I would sacrifice everything I have for
them. I feel the same way about my siblings and my handful of good friends. How
lucky I am to have such wonderful people in my life.</div>
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• I’m a sucker for sparkle. OK, that’s a little weird, but
my head will spin for a sparkly bracelet or some other piece of chachke
jewelry. I don’t need diamonds anymore. I’ve had my fair share of good
expensive jewelry that brought me pleasure at one time. I am gaga over simple
rhinestones and glitter. Right now I have on a Christmas charm bracelet I made
(loaded with crystal charms), and a rhinestone bangle bracelet that I paid $5
for at Walmart, and my Fossil watch with a crystal bezel. And there is a jingly, sparkly
necklace around my neck.</div>
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• I’m a sucker for mindless TV. And don’t we have a boatload
of options out there! I sadly still watch all the Housewives. They’re rude and
shallow, and mean divas, and maybe that makes me feel soooooo good about
myself, I don’t know. Why can’t I turn my head when they are on? It’s like a
train wreck right before my eyes. Kudos to Bravo TV... laughing all the way to
the bank. Ah, Andy Cohen, you genius, you.</div>
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• I’m a sucker for shoes. Love, love, love them and could
shop all day trying on every single pair just for the fun of it. I even notice
other people’s shoes and have many times made comments to total strangers “love
your shoes!” Yeah, I’m <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">that</i> person,
the weirdo in the mall looking at your shoes.</div>
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• I like laughing and I’m a sucker for a good comic strip.
Right now, I love <i>Pickles</i>, it’s my favorite. My all time fave was <i>Calvin and
Hobbes</i>. Man, do I miss that one! Belly laughs galore. For the life of me I don’t
understand why some of the old weird ones are still around like Beetle Baily
and Mary Worth and Blondie. I can honestly say I have never once read Mary
Worth. The comics are the only part of the paper I read. My 6<sup>th</sup>
grade civics teacher would not be happy about that. He once made me do an oral
report every day for a week about current events, because I shared that I did
not read the paper. So, booya! Mr. WhateverYourNameWas, still not reading.
Current events are still sucky, and I don’t have to know about them to get
through my day. Actually, I feel like I’m better off not knowing the creepy
things that they deem fit to print.</div>
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So call me a sucker or quirky. If you’re my friend, you’re not
learning anything new here. I wear my quirkiness proudly on my sleeve and offer
no apologies. Booya!</div>
Karolannnorrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09061148318749110175noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1467400915652267256.post-14194521242761194212013-10-14T09:20:00.000-04:002013-10-14T09:20:32.373-04:00Halloween shadow box
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I found these little Zen Garden thingies at the Dollar Tree.
I’m a sucker for a wooden shadow box, so for a buck, I got a perfect, already
black, wooden shadow box to make something for Halloween.</div>
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I must say it wasn’t all that hard to toss out everything
that came with the box. The little bag of sand and rocks went into my garden, (HA!
– I say “garden” like I have one of those. Let’s be honest and call it the "back
yard") the tiny rake was worthless and went into the recycle bin and I was
left with a nice black box.</div>
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I have the mother load of Halloween stickers in my stash and
ribbon too, so this was truly a $1 project. OK, $1.06 with tax. Uncle Sam needs
his share. If you had to buy all of it, it would still be under $8.</div>
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First, I measured around the perimeter of the box and
applied some red-double-sided sticky tape to secure my ribbon. You could just
use glue if you don’t have that tape. But you <i>should</i> have that tape, it’s that
awesome with ribbon.</div>
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I found the music page on-line for the background , printed
it out, and applied it with ModPodge. I have a bat punch and used some black
cardstock scrap to punch them out. I creased their wings to give some dimension. I
cut a piece of spooky cloth from my stash (also from the Dollar Tree) and place
it at the bottom to anchor the collage. It looks like a spider web - bonus!</div>
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A few minutes later, after playing around with placement and
gluing everything down… project done and cute as a button. I have it propped in my kitchen window in front of one of my K's I collect. </div>
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Cackle, cackle, screamy screamy! Happy, happy Halloweenie!</div>
Karolannnorrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09061148318749110175noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1467400915652267256.post-335599937877316212013-08-30T13:54:00.000-04:002013-08-30T13:54:52.493-04:00Up, Up, and Away!
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<br />
My favorite age to do just about anything with a child is around 4
years old. They’re out of that baby stage, have no inhibitions, think the world
revolves around their little lives, are full of a genuine lust for learning,
and can make you smile out loud with their words, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>thoughts and actions. After that,
the snark quickly sets in and the questioning of authority, and you start
saying things like “because I said so”.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZXbSUAPgDobyZs7qVTQ-DYiKpH_ev63mfZY2cTHf5res85EzmSpjYfzNU1z6omuAJ4gjD80aSvzDcnTFhIl4cgMcmgPo9RhnWT9rtmkps_HsbYUqyRVFk2AnGK6DSkwPLZ4r-rNcFE3U/s1600/ninja+alan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZXbSUAPgDobyZs7qVTQ-DYiKpH_ev63mfZY2cTHf5res85EzmSpjYfzNU1z6omuAJ4gjD80aSvzDcnTFhIl4cgMcmgPo9RhnWT9rtmkps_HsbYUqyRVFk2AnGK6DSkwPLZ4r-rNcFE3U/s640/ninja+alan.jpg" width="513" /></a></div>
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This is my little man at about 4. Everything this boy
touched <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">transmogrified</i> (thank you,
Calvin & Hobbes for <i>that</i> awesome
word) into a Super Hero accessory. This “sword” was, in its earlier life, his
little sister’s glitter baton which had been
tied with a ribbon found in my craft supplies so he could wear it “ninja
style” around his neck. His “mask” was of course, a swim goggle worn upside down so it fit more like a mask and less like a goggle, but when he
donned both of those accessories he became a certified super hero limited only
by his imagination. And he had plenty of that. </div>
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He was an 80’s baby, so his heroes were aplenty. Superman
was at the top of the list, but he also loved He-Man, Thundercats, Batman, all
the Ninja Turtles and every DC comic book character there was. Every single one. He knew their
background story, their powers, their weaknesses, and their arch enemies. He had super hero underwear, super hero pj's, a super hero toothbrush, and super hero sheets.</div>
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He knew that Jor-El and Lor-El were Superman’s birth parents
from the planet Krypton, and that John and Martha Kent were his Earth parents.
The first movie he ever went to see was not a kiddy Disney movie, but <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Superman IV, the Quest for Peace</i>. He
went with his dad, and I (lucky me) got to sit through <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Chipmunk Adventure</i> with his little sister in an adjoining
theater. It was definitely the short stick draw for me, but was the absolute <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">highlight</i> of my little man's day.</div>
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He could, and did, sing the theme song to all of the cartoons on TV. He-Man was one of his favorites to watch. He stood to sing the
He-Man song, holding his imaginary sword in the air. That magical sword <span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">harnessed the power of the mysterious Castle Greyskull and
transformed Prince Adam into He-Man. </span>For that moment, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">he</i> was He-Man, with his neck veins
protruding from saying “I HAVE THE POWER!” with all his little might.</div>
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On most days, my little SH had some sort of cape attached to
his neck by a clothespin, and I’m <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">sure</i>
it made him run faster and have big muscles. Usually it was fashioned from a
kitchen towel, but he had a plethora of capes from Halloween costumes to choose
from. Most had been tied so many times the strings were all broken, so that
clothespin came in handy. We had many excursions out in the “real” world fully costumed.
He walked tall and proud and totally “in-character”. I got a lot of looks at
the grocery store and post office, but they were sweet looks and not the “OMG,
you poor thing” looks. He had the Superman stance perfected with his fisted hands
on his hips, feet spread and his head looking to one side.</div>
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One of his plastic Halloween masks from a Superman costume
had the traditional Superman haircut – you know, the one with that little swirl
in the front.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He once asked me “the next
time you cut my hair, could you please cut it like Superman's?”. I knew exactly what he wanted... it was that little swirl in the front. Oh, if only I could have, but alas he was blessed with stick straight hair and no amount of product was going to produce that swirl. It made my life
interesting and full of smiles and warmed my heart like only a mother’s heart
could be warmed.</div>
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He was adorable and an incredibly happy little boy. My
little SH is 30 now and still has that warm, happy heart he had at 4. He’s a
good man, with the same nerdy panache for super hero trivia, and can still melt
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">my</i> heart. He’s intelligent and loving
and considerate, and most important to me, he’s kind. A good human being, plain and simple.</div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I treasure my memories
of you in your carefree moments of imaginary role-playing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You sure were good at it. I love you, little
man. “Up, up, and away!”</i></div>
Karolannnorrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09061148318749110175noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1467400915652267256.post-58762949430601383592013-07-29T12:54:00.001-04:002013-07-29T12:59:19.573-04:00from the Countess<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwTow6_aQKU4sQuahamXNHXs3bg0CtHqX1q_jQBpKwADDfnT3XCiIxcYrFbIWTzsbhVaOwkBxwI-ejCrrlH48D1GCeDlAEfR39zqurDGuc_QPK5OE_gryA_Ln2xX5j4UcGowtO__MXl3E/s1600/Kate+Middleton+British+Royals+Attend+Trooping+frBbVbzxf6Yx.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="292" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwTow6_aQKU4sQuahamXNHXs3bg0CtHqX1q_jQBpKwADDfnT3XCiIxcYrFbIWTzsbhVaOwkBxwI-ejCrrlH48D1GCeDlAEfR39zqurDGuc_QPK5OE_gryA_Ln2xX5j4UcGowtO__MXl3E/s320/Kate+Middleton+British+Royals+Attend+Trooping+frBbVbzxf6Yx.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Ha! With all the royal baby stuff taking the center stage, having a website to generate your own royal title is the timely thing to do.<br />
<br />
Give it a whirl, just for <i>chuckles</i>, or as we say in the UK - <i>sniggers</i> (somehow that seems so inappropriately racist)<br />
<br />
http://www.usatoday.com/story/life/people/2013/07/12/royal-name-generator/2512673/<br />
<br />
You're welcome!<br />
<br />
truly yours,<br />
Countess Magnolia of the Night Karolannnorrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09061148318749110175noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1467400915652267256.post-71543761440740145932013-07-28T15:55:00.000-04:002013-07-29T16:13:56.617-04:00Repurposed Baby ShoesAnother Pinterest inspired craft that came to life yesterday. We are always on the lookout for awesome repurposing ideas, especially those that look vintagey (vintagish?) and shabby chic-ish. Yeah, I make up words... <i>cuz I can</i>.<br />
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We have been stocking up on old baby shoes we have found at thrift stores and antique malls. This is the box of stash we had to work with. Some are from my granddaughter's discarded, outgrown shoe wardrobe. One pair is from Jan's oldest son when he was a baby, the leather white high top shoes. I call them Zippy shoes, because they look like the kind that circus chimps wore as they rode their bikes around a stage. And there was always one chimp named Zippy. Do you remember those acts? Ed Sullivan would occasionally have them on his show. Yes, I am old as dirt and know who Ed Sullivan was. There is a black pair of shoes in there too that I want to turn in to Halloween sump'n sump'ns.<br />
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We gathered up some of our stash of lace and bling and ribbons and went to work to turn these adorable little shoes into adorable little pin cushions. We started by placing fish tank pebbles in the bottom of the shoes for stability. After researching a few how-tos about making the pin cushion part, we went with filling a circle of tight woven material with bird grit. That's the stuff you put in a cup for caged birds to help with digestion, and you can find it in any pet supply store. Draw up the cloth into a ball with a needle and thread, secure tightly and then cover that with a more decorative material like vintage velvet.</div>
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Then came the bling part. We added some old lace, old rhinestone jewelry pieces, vintagey tinsel (I'm sticking with that version of my made up word), flowers, pearls, and replaced the shoe laces with satin ribbons. We hot glued all of the components to the shoes.</div>
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Every single one is stunning! and very easy to make. We'll be selling them in the fall.</div>
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This is one of Kinsley's shoes. Baby pink sneakers that I think she might have worn once. Isn't that the way it goes with newborns? Their little feet grow so fast. It has a beautiful pin made of clay roses attached to a piece of an antique crochet doily. Pearls were glued around the edge of the shoe, and a little bird charm hangs from the doily. The pin cushion is made with pink velvet that has been embossed with stars.<br />
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This one looks similar to a Zippy shoe. It has that incredible aged look and was well worn.<br />
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Off white flowers, satin ribbon and a rhinestone piece decorate the front of the shoe, while a tea stained crocheted lace encircles the top of the shoe. It has a white velvet pin cushion.<br />
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All the ingredients for a sweet shabby chic pin cushion.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv1YcmYM8Gpd0xdj0fP_5rv1J-Vanp0WSonyC2i3eu50NFNnGAhu5rmVUawjSdfTGAkQBA_MqvKifgwe2P19oFDeoAgL7GITc9SZ8JhX56Dm3sVGA1lNkrIsEacaeLWmmAqT4cHOeSyDA/s1600/get-attachment-8.aspx.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv1YcmYM8Gpd0xdj0fP_5rv1J-Vanp0WSonyC2i3eu50NFNnGAhu5rmVUawjSdfTGAkQBA_MqvKifgwe2P19oFDeoAgL7GITc9SZ8JhX56Dm3sVGA1lNkrIsEacaeLWmmAqT4cHOeSyDA/s400/get-attachment-8.aspx.jpeg" width="298" /></a></div>
This one is a little Mary Jane shoe, which is hard to tell because the straps have been covered with embellishments. It too has vintage lace, a vintage rhinestone pin, satin ribbon and pearls for decorations.<br />
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It was also a well worn shoe. I guess babies wore them longer back in the day. It seems like now, people don't put sweet shoes on tiny babies like they used to. And the trend is more towards something a rock star might wear. Lots of bling, lots of sparkle, or gold lame´ type material. The new shoes aren't very sweet... they're gutsy. And too grown-uppy.<br />
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I suppose that makes our repurposed shoes all that more special. Something gone by the wayside like good manners and respect and Ed Sullivan.<br />
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Look how cute they are on Jan's chippy shelf. And the antique turquoise Mason jars add to the ambiance. <i>So</i> cute! </div>
<br />Karolannnorrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09061148318749110175noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1467400915652267256.post-80705544045733323882013-07-25T19:24:00.000-04:002013-07-25T19:24:16.990-04:00Gator Chomp, or Nole Chop?Living in Gainesville, Florida, you'd think there's only one choice of school colors, wouldn't you? Well, guess again. We have a large Seminole following here too. So, today I made 2 bracelets for my daughter's fund raising event benefitting Breast Cancer Research.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVC2jxf_Tm60zWSxaVIfJVp1D4Xdyyz4pgzkZZwyWFGJ6zfb9qq5FbZcUEq_wwc1mB46AYuzj2yr5-d8zfDYZXXvytrzfDdlVLxii6_46BMXcZXWVs3pUz_c1NZQ6KfVMH5kffupGKjTE/s1600/get-attachment.aspx.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVC2jxf_Tm60zWSxaVIfJVp1D4Xdyyz4pgzkZZwyWFGJ6zfb9qq5FbZcUEq_wwc1mB46AYuzj2yr5-d8zfDYZXXvytrzfDdlVLxii6_46BMXcZXWVs3pUz_c1NZQ6KfVMH5kffupGKjTE/s640/get-attachment.aspx.jpeg" width="478" /></a></div>
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We'll see which bracelet brings in more money for her silent auction.Karolannnorrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09061148318749110175noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1467400915652267256.post-71759482888476644792013-07-20T13:07:00.001-04:002013-07-20T13:07:16.182-04:00Recycled TreasuresWe are the queens of junk yard art. This year we have extended our repertoire to include some Christmas dioramas using vintage clocks for the bases. These are gone-by-the-wayside clocks that have become obsolete with the advances of technology. Hell, even <i>watches</i> are becoming obsolete. Most people younger than us (the rest of the world) don't wear watches. Why would they? They have their cell phones attached to their hips and since they look at their phones about 5000 times a day, they are much more aware of what time it is than us geezers. Ooooo, I feel a soapbox approaching, so let me put myself in check. I'd much rather talk about crafting stuff.<br />
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Old clocks aren't nearly as accessible as you would think, but we found some and after gutting them like fishies, we put together some adorable dioramas. We had a ton of stuff already on hand, but scored some more vintage decorations from thrift stores to bling them up.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPq6HkTeWF-2tnYnJAN6sQg5tCqBhbcORN1M9lc4MWcCJoVTBrnWIllSFAYaX6bbEfGvX4IQ1oLukKyw7-_ACmPsPJfSJzPc2ibEDmUd8LSIF5-gjvC5q0wqgDQYBI2wekoikUa6UQ51U/s1600/get-attachment-9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPq6HkTeWF-2tnYnJAN6sQg5tCqBhbcORN1M9lc4MWcCJoVTBrnWIllSFAYaX6bbEfGvX4IQ1oLukKyw7-_ACmPsPJfSJzPc2ibEDmUd8LSIF5-gjvC5q0wqgDQYBI2wekoikUa6UQ51U/s640/get-attachment-9.jpg" width="478" /></a></div>
This one was a white plastic case clock, perfect for a vintage feel with the red and white color scheme. The little chippy angel in the middle is holding her own little tree and is surrounded by a snowy bottom and glittery sides. She has a sparkly snowflake in her background which is a piece of vintage packaging from old Christmas lights.<br />
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This one is about 6 inches tall.<br />
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This one is made from an old brass Big Ben style clock. <br />
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The vintage soldier looks like he is guarding the tree and its treasures below. We kept the glass front intact on this one.<br />
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Really, cute!<br />
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This is the rear view. A piece of vintage style background paper was added to cover up the openings in the back, and gold braid was added all around the front and back rims for a little glitzy flair.<br />
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So far we have made 30 of these and they are all adorable.<br />
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Some are made from crystal clocks and those are awesome too. Very shabby chic, and hopefully well received by our customers.Karolannnorrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09061148318749110175noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1467400915652267256.post-35097417913426243642013-07-08T16:37:00.001-04:002013-07-09T07:22:36.709-04:00Liar, liar, pants on fire.I posted two years ago that Jan and I were through with bottle snowmen. I lied like a rug. We thought we were, then we caught our breath and got inspired to keep going. I don't know how many we have made over the years, but it is at least 600. OMG, six hundred! (thank you Sue Pelletier for your original inspiration) We have this year's batch ready for our fall show in October and are considering a second show in November if we can score a good venue. We honestly have a huge following, and people come looking for our booth at the show we do in October. True validation. And much appreciated.<br />
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My house is covered in glitter, and crates of finished snowmen line my guestroom walls. I can't even begin to tell you how much fun we have making them all. Each and every one is a creation of love from the first step of picking out a bottle, to the end step of glittering them all.<br />
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Our early techniques were much more crude, and scattered. We made a lot of "themed" snowmen... anything from University colors, to beach themed, nautical, patriotic, and everything in between. They were all very well received, but I think the <i>theme-style</i> wore us out. We've settled into making adorable, sweet faced regular snowmen (and women). Here are some in the "drying" stage. After we have completed assembling each one, they go onto my kitchen shelf unit for about 3 days of drying time. It takes that long for their clay heads to dry. Next will come gluing all the parts in place with a strong adhesive, followed by a blushed cheek, then glitter.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2Gl2KEb6mVEXA3aYxgi9eHvkm2UpXBC7nSkM88EdvjcmwsK3VJVbaQ5oOgSihkbxT-yS9ch8rExH7BcDpFB_IpMCFKg0-GEFr6BcwpFqzsqAyt7ryn779tMe1Kh1sFZMxIFL7aK0WW2g/s1600/IMG_0137.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2Gl2KEb6mVEXA3aYxgi9eHvkm2UpXBC7nSkM88EdvjcmwsK3VJVbaQ5oOgSihkbxT-yS9ch8rExH7BcDpFB_IpMCFKg0-GEFr6BcwpFqzsqAyt7ryn779tMe1Kh1sFZMxIFL7aK0WW2g/s640/IMG_0137.jpg" width="478" /></a></div>
How lucky am I to get to see all these smiling faces pretty much year round! Here are some after getting their glitz on.<br />
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This one is made from a crystal salt shaker and has a <i>top hat</i> made from a VW knob that has been glued to a large black button. He has a neck full of jingle bells and a satin ribbon that catches more sparkle from the glitter.<br />
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So cute! We make handmade tags for each one and include their name. Yes, of course... we name each one. I like to use old fashioned names like <i>Walter</i> or <i>Sarah</i>. Sometimes, a customer will pick one up and say "OMG, my grandmother's name was <i>Sarah</i>. I'm getting this one." Makes us smile.<br />
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Here's a partial look at this year's bunch, all gathered up and having a snowman conference on my dining room table.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFyvTCPYYcyrSJsVJw7PFtowM6OX6yG8bFeA6NH4VEHsROu-_AnWequnOKNSw9VCY_0dVxO8aTKR13wk-sWz4ECpZSLB2nD6oAOZ_BzMZeU3PHptGFX2SQ4k732SAtTZlwbdjBRYUFxeo/s1600/get-attachment-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFyvTCPYYcyrSJsVJw7PFtowM6OX6yG8bFeA6NH4VEHsROu-_AnWequnOKNSw9VCY_0dVxO8aTKR13wk-sWz4ECpZSLB2nD6oAOZ_BzMZeU3PHptGFX2SQ4k732SAtTZlwbdjBRYUFxeo/s640/get-attachment-1.jpg" width="478" /></a></div>
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Here is another group, waiting to be tagged and stored away. Notice the billiard ball bodies on some of them. Jan's idea! She is best at thinking outside the box.<br />
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We've also added some tiny ones that can be used on a Christmas tree like an ornament. They fit in the palm of a hand and are also adorable.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi1EmpGSe0URECQMl9Fk1s8MZsD63PNQRR3pIppgtYp2eqefjbjJMlmk0hTU_ErjcsNk_XjlGv73bfO-hiNSUTPECFBg1WKibEESaYnrgzQvwOrFU_-4nPvlRlBaX-2gluVsR3Zrkq10A/s1600/get-attachment-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"> </a>Here is a grouping of them hanging from one of my display pieces. They are too sweet.<br />
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... and a close up view of that face.<br />
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Yup, it's Christmas in July at my house. And April, May, June, August, September, October, and November.<br />
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Ho Ho Ho!Karolannnorrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09061148318749110175noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1467400915652267256.post-56976604362427728822013-06-28T10:34:00.000-04:002013-06-28T10:34:32.123-04:00Middle namesAs I sit here waiting for my kitchen floors to dry, I am surfing Pinterest, my favorite on-line obsession. Today I ran across this...<br />
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Nothing could be truer. Although my blog is named <i>Karol Ann</i>, no one ever calls me that. There was a time when, if I heard that called out loud, I kind of peed a little. The hair would stand on the back of my neck, and I would wait for what seemed an eternity for the proverbial "other shoe" to drop. My siblings and I were experts, I mean <i>real</i> experts, at covering our tracks, and staying under the radar. We knew from a very early age that mama don't play. I'm not saying we were angels, we weren't. Our fights were plentiful and legendary. We name-called and hair-pulled, and could spit in each other's eye like a champ. But when we acted out it was behind her back. And it was quiet. Or <i>should have been</i>. I can remember covering my brother's mouth so he couldn't scream out and blow our cover. I got my hand bit a few times pulling that, and if he couldn't bite, he'd push spit out onto my hand. Ah, the fun memories. If mom heard the commotion, this is what followed: "Ellen Karolyn, ugh... Jan Annette... shit... KAROL ANN!" She'd have to go through all of our names and finally spit out the one whose butt was fixin to get kicked.</div>
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Mom was one tough cookie. She was born in the early twenties and was one of eleven children. She had five brothers close to her age and was, I understand a handful herself as a teen. She rolled with her brothers and didn't take crap from anybody. Ironically, she entered the convent as a teen to continue her education. In the 30's, school was free until the 8th grade. After that, it cost money. My grandparents were not wealthy and an extended education for eleven kids was out of the question. The convent offered a free education. She joined with her best friend Mary Ellen (my oldest sister's namesake). I imagine Clarissa Augusta (mom) and Mary Ellen got in plenty of trouble in the years they were there together. Mary Ellen stayed in the convent and was a nun until her death. Mom didn't. She came home to help out with the younger siblings and eventually joined the Navy. She met and married my dad (a Navy man) and we were raised by strong, disciplined, and loving parents. </div>
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Jan and I visited mom recently in her assisted living home. She has a much softer look about her, and seems so frail and fragile now. My sibs see her every day, and I thank God for them for being there for her. They are dedicated children and love her dearly as do I. My distance from her home keeps me from seeing her often, but when I do, she smiles when I walk in the room. This trip, she was in the activity room playing Bingo, one of her lifelong pleasures. I sat quietly next to her as she concentrated on her 2 cards, waiting for each number to be called. Most of the time, she is in a state of confusion and isn't sure what she is supposed to be doing. Bingo seems to ground her and for that hour or so, she is rock solid.</div>
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I'm so grateful you still recognize me, and are in a safe and happy place. I think of you often and laugh at some of our childhood shenanigans that we got away with. And cringe at the ones we didn't.</div>
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Love you, mom! from Karol Ann.</div>
<br />Karolannnorrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09061148318749110175noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1467400915652267256.post-64441103330181207672013-06-02T20:08:00.000-04:002013-06-02T20:08:44.698-04:00Tubing the Itchetucknee River<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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One of my all time favorite Florida things to do is tube the Itchetucknee. I've done it all my adult life, starting probably about the time I got my first car and became mobile. Tomorrow is my husband's 70th birthday - holy crap on a cracker - and I am surprising him with a trip down the river. We live about 45 minutes away, so it is a perfect way to do a watery Florida activity without having to travel to the beaches. And since we are in central Florida, beaches are 2 hours away in either direction.<br />
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This river is spring fed so it remains a constant 72° all year long and is crystal clear. It flows six miles through shaded hammocks and wetlands before it joins the Santa Fe River. The current is strong enough to keep you floating without having to paddle, like the lazy river in Disney World. Only you can see live
white-tailed deer, raccoons, wild turkeys, wood ducks and great blue
herons from the river. I have even seen otters and an occasional snake.
Mostly you see dragonflies. They love to hitch a ride on some part of
the boat or the tip of your toes, and float lazily along the river. There are a bazillion rental places around to rent tubes and one man boats, which is what most people do. Some bring canoes or kayaks. Some bring their own gear, but if you have ever traveled with a carload of kids and inflated tubes (we have), you'd know that the cranky factor goes way up before you even reach your destination. <br />
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These people are in inner tubes. Ha! Inner tubes have holes in them which means your butt gets wet and cold. We rent one man boats which is, well, a boat... with no open middles, and that means you don't get wet. Theoretically.<br />
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Hubby and I each rent our own boats and this is how we roll... he helps me get in my boat at the beginning of the river, he gets in his, ties our boats together, and then we float together until the end where he helps me out of my boat. I can wear shorts and a t-shirt and don't have to wear a bathing suit, which makes me very, very happy. I carry an umbrella and have it open to protect my skin from the Florida sun. We look just like Katherine Hepburn and Humphrey Bogart in <i>African Queen</i>. I even call him Charlie while we are floating. It's his duty to keep us out of the grasses so snakes can't get to me. Yes, I know they could drop out of trees, but I choose to pretend that can't happen. It is truly beautiful scenery, worth any risk of an up and close contact with any critter. Well, not really. If I ever have a snake drop in my boat, I promise you will see me on CNN.<br />
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After we get out of the river, a shuttle bus takes us back to our car which is parked in a picnic area, and tomorrow we will be picnicking. It's the perfect plan, and a perfect way to spend your 70th birthday. Happy Birthday, Pieface.<br />
<br />Karolannnorrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09061148318749110175noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1467400915652267256.post-57756235176654575022013-05-19T15:13:00.000-04:002013-05-19T15:13:26.302-04:00Happy, Happy, HappyMy blogging mojo has been conspicuous by its absence. To say that I am busy is an understatement to be sure.<br />
I have been working hard with Janice (for one thing) getting ready for our fall craft shows. We love being up to our eyebrows in snowmen and snowmen parts. It's a constant source of entertainment for each of us to always be on the lookout for <i>body parts</i>. I don't believe either one of us goes shopping at thrift stores or antique malls or anywhere else for that matter without looking at "things" with an artistic eye. Occasionally, each of us will message the other with a photo of a potential hat or embellishment, and a message "what do you think of this?" or "can we use that?"<br />
This year we have already made 2 big batches of our vintage bottle snowmen, over 200 already, and we are now working on adding to our repertoire. Jan made a snowman last year for herself, taking the idea from a Pinterest post that is so cute, we decided we could make a batch of them. Here is a sneak peek of our batch...<br />
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Oh my! How flippin' cute! We have about 14 of them so far. Lots of sizes and shapes. Some 3 spools tall, some 2.<br />
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We'll be testing the waters with these on October, but I'm pretty sure they'll be received well. We'll name them too, just like our other snowmen.<br />
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Pretty self explanatory on what they're made from. We had everything except for the spools of crochet thread, and scored those from Ebay and thrift stores. Crafting is my Happy Place. I don't get to go there often enough, but when I do, it is the most therapeutic thing I do for myself. And to get some sister time in there is a big bonus for both of us. We get together again this weekend for more therapy. See you soon, Jan.Karolannnorrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09061148318749110175noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1467400915652267256.post-56242813141859958642013-02-04T10:33:00.001-05:002013-02-04T10:36:36.681-05:00RAOK updateIt has been one year since I posted about Random Acts of Kindness. I asked my friends not to give me any gifts or celebrations for my 60th birthday, but to do RAOK's for 60 days instead. I got wonderful input from so many people, all of whom I knew all along would do kind things without me asking.<br />
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One in particular was incredible! My friend Nancy and her husband kept a journal for an <i>entire year</i> for me of the acts of kindnesses they did in my honor. OMG, I was overwhelmed with joy when she presented it to me this year on my birthday. I read through tear filled eyes some of their posts. Here are some of the wonderful things they did: gave up their "you're next" status at a restaurant to another couple; took in neighbors trash cans; mentored some high school students for an upcoming competition; helped a fellow motorist move his car from the road; picked up trash at the beach; did a surprise carpet cleaning for their son's apartment; mailed a card to a couple listed in the paper who were celebrating their 75th anniversary; made several donations to scouts/students outside of Publix; made a call to the Publix manager about good service by one of his employees (she received a free meal voucher).<br />
The list went on and on, each as sweet and wonderful as the next.<br />
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As I said before, I believe strongly in Paying it Forward. One of my
favorite quotes is by Leo Buscaglia (remember him?) I loved watching him
on PBS when I was younger. Such an incredible man. His quote: <i><span class="grand">Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a
smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the
smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life
around. </span></i><br />
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I wrote this today because another sweet friend, Kimmie, posted on her Facebook page about an act she performed over the weekend in my honor. She mentioned my challenge to her from a year ago. I have such wonderful friends in my life, and love them all dearly. They are all kind, and awesome. <i><span class="grand"></span></i><br />
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<span class="grand">Thank you, sweet friends for your kindness, and touching others lives on a daily basis.</span>
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<br />Karolannnorrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09061148318749110175noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1467400915652267256.post-5797281129499061382012-11-06T09:27:00.000-05:002012-11-06T13:12:13.027-05:00From the mouths of babesI am not shy about sharing my not so secret love affair with my grandchildren. The joy they bring is immense and constant. We have begun having sleepovers here on a one-on-one basis. It helps mama at home, and gives me the wonderful opportunity to interact with them without the frazzled confusion that surrounds a "whole family" visit.<br />
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I established a Take Turns Rule, so no one is cheated. Last night was Mason's turn... he's my little pickle. He likes to be in charge of just about everything in his world, and when he cannot, there is usually a lot of drama. He giggled in delight knowing his little brother didn't get to tag along. I saved last Sunday's ads because they were loaded with toys. I knew he would love going through them and picking out some things for his Christmas wish list. Last year he circled <i>every single</i> toy "except for the girl ones, those are for Braydon."<br />
I handed him a blue Sharpie and told him he could only circle <b>one</b> on each page.<br />
Ever the clever child, he circled one, then circled another one next to it, then drew a line connecting the two. He makes me giggle out loud, mainly because I can literally see the wheels turning in his head.<br />
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I recently chaperoned a field trip for his Kindergarten class to a local working farm. Here are my guys for the day... little Nicholas on the left was awesome! with his badass mohawk and glasses. Mason is in the middle, then Matthew on the right. Matthew, I'm guessing, is an only child. He was worried about scraping his knee, "because that's what happened there last time." and he had those jazz hands going all day. The bathroom options were a line of about 10 port-a-potties. When it was time, Nicholas and Mason went straight in and did their business. Matthew said "no thank you" after looking inside one. Hilarious.<br />
We had a wonderful day. I was the only grandmother there. I know this is weird, but I honestly don't feel my age, and when I am in a group of people much younger than me, in my head I'm thinking that maybe I'm a few years older. Clearly I am not, these parents are my children's age. One of Mason's classmates asked him if I was his mom, and he replied "no, she's my great great grandmother." I didn't just giggle, I slapped my knee. <br />
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Recently his younger brother who is four (the best age ever!) asked me if I was 16. "No" I said, "I'm 60." 60!? Wow, that's a lot Gigi. Is that almost a hundred?" Yes, Braydon, yes it is. If I ever want a good laugh, I just hang out with my boys. They keep me rolling. I love you two, and can't wait to start conversing with little miss K.Karolannnorrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09061148318749110175noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1467400915652267256.post-64769540324348616872012-10-18T14:55:00.001-04:002012-10-18T14:55:50.890-04:00Bat GirlOur little Kinsley is 10 months old now, and is turning into a fireball princess. She is growing up with 2 rough and tumble big brothers so she can't help but be a fireball. Her personality is incredible... so sweet and happy with a constant smile on her face. She contorts that little tongue out of the side of her mouth when she smiles and when she's "thinking".<br />
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Yesterday I picked her up from daycare for our weekly sleepover. If I'm lucky, I get her more than once a week. She really is an angel, and no trouble at all. Of course, she isn't walking yet, so that has a lot to do with her angelic behavior. I found the cutest costume on Etsy for her of a Bat Girl. It is made of a black tulle tutu and a black mesh top, with a hand cut yellow felt Batman symbol sewn to the chest. And to top it off, there is a black satin ribbon that ties around her neck. I put a pair of black tights underneath for the final effect. Her brothers (super hero officionados) are going to love it. <br />
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Papa and I took her to a nearby church pumpkin patch for a photo op. Well, that was our intention. She was not as cooperative as we hoped. Are they ever when a camera is involved? Her main issue was with Papa. For some odd reason, she was not feeling the Papa moment. We think because he had a hat on, she was confused about who he was. Not only did she not want him to hold her, but she wasn't too thrilled that he was making goofy faces at her to encourage a smile. It only encouraged looks of panic. If there had been a bubble over her head with text in it, it would have said "Gigi, please make that scary man go away, and for God's sake don't let him pick me up". So no smiles from Kinsley in the pumpkin patch.<br />
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Happy first Halloween, Kinsley! I promise Papa loves you almost as much as I do. :)</div>
<br />Karolannnorrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09061148318749110175noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1467400915652267256.post-84046132908249621742012-10-07T21:50:00.000-04:002012-10-07T21:50:39.377-04:00Mad Scientists at workIt's almost here! I have had as much fun as a gal can have getting ready for Halloween. My office mates are very tolerant of my holiday giddiness. I think they love it as much as I do and let me have carte blanche when it comes to decorating. I always go all out for Halloween. This year I decided to go with a Mad Scientist theme in our office.<br />
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I have been making "specimen jars" with some not too creepy specimens. I went to a Dollar Tree and found some of those rubber critters that expand in water. I put 2 of the snake ones in a jar filled with water dyed with food coloring, (4 drops of yellow, one drop of green) and a cricket one in another. I also have a creepy brown furry turantula on moss in another jar. I had access to some beakers and flasks from one of our academies (Biotechnology Academy) and some cool petri dishes.<br />
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I found an awesome rubber toad at a thrift store for a quarter and turned him into a specimen too.<br />
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I thought and thought about what to do with the front of my desk. I considered making it just look like a lab table, but then the lightbulb went off and the <b>scientific element table</b> came to mind. I thought it would be cool to make a message using the element letters. I found a table on the internet for reference, and came up with my scientific version of <i>Happy Halloween</i>.<br />
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I have had a couple of people who I knew didn't get it (our janitor said "Miss Karol, did you spell Halloween right?) but most people got it right away. Yea! </div>
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Next was the door to our office. I found a clipart file on Google of a mad scientist, printed him out, projected larger onto a wall and traced it on construction paper to the size of our door.</div>
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Add a little sign that says "Radio Active Experiments in Progress, enter at your own risk" and we are in business. I will be wearing a white lab coat, some safety goggles and a bald style wig that has white and wild hair. I bought 2 packages of Martha Stewart test tubes, added some M&M's and made them look all Halloweeny for giving to my office pals. These are the white chocolate Halloween version of M&M's. If you like white chocolate, you will love these. They are bigger than regular M&M's, almost twice as big. Yummo!</div>
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Cackle, cackle, screamy, screamy! Happy, happy Halloweenie! <br />
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Karolannnorrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09061148318749110175noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1467400915652267256.post-91034689612123202662012-09-16T10:59:00.001-04:002012-09-16T10:59:55.559-04:00Halloween PropI have some of the cutest Halloween collectibles and of course display them every year. I like to set them on top of things, mostly orange and black tins I collect. But sometimes I like a little bling bling on my "props". I used an empty spool from some ribbon and repurposed it (love to re-use, love that it's free) into a sweet and blingy prop for one of my <i>August Moon</i> cuties.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr6kKM6Ddy5a_4nqquQ93l3KmvIRaw5vYAGWbRaYSHr2ZdLkh574iqFSzJWMpTZG_3xgZ3EgUS3xl4fIGL2xU0Yfl0WnCt_8fO5X6dIqyGk-6pe7hheMNvpbzwFpJRyWBKjHwCFY279XE/s1600/get-attachment-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr6kKM6Ddy5a_4nqquQ93l3KmvIRaw5vYAGWbRaYSHr2ZdLkh574iqFSzJWMpTZG_3xgZ3EgUS3xl4fIGL2xU0Yfl0WnCt_8fO5X6dIqyGk-6pe7hheMNvpbzwFpJRyWBKjHwCFY279XE/s400/get-attachment-1.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
Start out by tracing the spool onto background paper for the top and bottom and put them aside. Then trim the spool edges with scalloped scissors. You could leave the edges straight, but I wanted to make them scalloped, so I cut around the edges with some decorative edged scissors.<br />
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Then I cut some background paper (Walmart) to fit the middle and taped it inside. I used a cute orange and black polka dot. <br />
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I then Mod Podged the top/bottom onto the spool. The edges may not match up, but it wasn't an issue. I just used the scissors to trim them after they were glued and it looked perfect.<br />
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(Not so perfect edge before I trimmed)<br />
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I then used Martha Stewart glitter (the Hematite was extra sparkly) to glitter the inside scalloped edges, using Mod Podge.<br />
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TaDa!!!<br />
So cute, easy, and blingy.Karolannnorrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09061148318749110175noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1467400915652267256.post-76227657276352280922012-09-06T21:30:00.000-04:002012-09-07T21:22:25.072-04:00Dollar Tree Halloween wreath - Holla!I have been busy as a bee getting ready for our fall craft show plus getting some Pinterest projects done. I found this idea:<br />
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...which I loved <i>immediately</i>. It is made from 5 - Dollar Tree skeletons pulled apart and hot glued to a wreath form. She spray painted hers silver, and it looks great but I took my wreath in a little different direction.<br />
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I loved the natural bone look of the skeletons so I left them as they were. I already had a grapevine wreath with summer stuff on it, that I had looked at for far too many summers. Tug, pull, and those old silk flowers are gone from the wreath. I pulled the skeletons apart and hot glued the limbs to the wreath. The original pinner suggested gluing one group of body parts at a time and that worked out very well. I started with the biggest pieces which were the torsos, then the skulls and legs/arms. It looked awesome just as it was, but I wanted it a little more ghoulish. <br />
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I found some fabulous black and white striped ribbon and a huge black widow spider at Michael's in the
Halloween section. I also got some moss to
tuck in here and there. OOOOOOO, spooky and awesome at the same time.<br />
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and on my front door (yes, I know it's only September) Hello!? you should know me better than that.<br />
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<br />Karolannnorrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09061148318749110175noreply@blogger.com0