holidays...who knew??

So, today is take your dog to work day. Hmmm, every day is take your dog to work day for me, it would be a holiday for me not to have them farting and snoring for a day. But, lets celebrate with a new chew toy and some milk bones.

It also must be:

Creative Parking Day. Please enjoy this holiday by parking in odd angles blocking me in and making it impossible for me to put my groceries in my car.

Call and say nothing day. Extra points if you are not a computer.

Block the isle day. This is a regional holiday, celebrated only where ever I am shopping.

Amish Goodwill day.

Take the kids to stores they hate to go day. This holiday is only celebrated by people with children who have skipped their naps. Yes, please bring your twins to the expensive department store, they'll love it! And like Christmas eve and Christmas, this holiday has 2 parts. After the meltdown in the 'big people's store' please take them to any toy store 'just to look'.

Its also national 'guess the gas price day'...I love this holiday, as I use E85 and the prices are never posted till you get to the pump.

And last but not least, its McDonald's overflow day! Woo-hoo...this holiday brings out all the folks who go to Ron's Steakhouse and buy a cup of coffee and sit for the mornings. Thanks for standing around being pissy cuz you gotta wait for your third refill...

Happy Holidays to all y'all!

back from vaca

Just got back from a fun filled mini vacation to Gatlenburg, Tn. Interesting, tiring, awesome and exhausting. Here is some of what I learned on this trip:

No matter how much money you spend on activities, you kid will whine and say 'I never get to do nuttin'...this was exhibited on every street corner in town.

You can never have too many fudge, t-shirt, or henna tattoo shops.

Anything that should be spelled with a C but is spelled with a K will involve bacon grease, deep frier's, sweet tea and grits...extra points for wood carved black bears (pronounced BHarrrrrs)

While you CAN wear your PJ bottoms around town you probably shouldn't'.

No one can pull off the muscle shirt and baggy-butt pants look.

There is no one so lonely as the "Mysterious Mansion" guy at 9:00am

If they say 'intermittent thunderstorms' for the area, they actually mean torrential rain that will wipe out roads, bridges and cause rock slides...always have a plan B.

Just cuz they call you ma'am don't mean they are polite.

Taking a camera does not mean you will take pictures...leaving your camera home will insure sighting a black bear, famous country star or someone being 'pantsed' in the center of town.

While it may be 'country' down there, many of the shop owners are not admitting to which country

The Grandma who is the cashier at the local sex toy shop may actually be a Grandpa. (Yes, these seem to be replacing the time share guys)

Everything is uphill

Parking is non existent

Cute shoes kill

You can BBQ, deep fry or ride anything.

Vacations are for family fun, relaxing, sight seeing and general dinking around. We have turned them into marathon shopping sprees with the excuse to eat ice cream at 10:00 am.

I love it!

fathers day

This is a picture of my Grandfather taken a long time ago...when, I have no idea. He was always a bit of a mystery to me, and I don't know that much about him. I do know he scared the be-jebus out of me when I was a kid, with his long Amish beard and Vicks Vapo-rub smell.

He was also the father to 13 children, who's wife died when they were all pretty small. He never remarried, so it must have been quite a hardship for the older ones who had to run the household.

The family moved a lot, being farmers with no land...my Dad would drive around the county and point to a field or a lone standing water pump and say...I use to live there.

We would go visit him after he fell and broke his hip...it seemed to always be summer and the Tiger game was always on. The kids would be sent to play so my dad could visit...I got the distinct impression kids were not welcome. Warm and fuzzy he was not.

I never knew him as a person. I never knew why he would drag his family away from a large and profitable farming family in Ohio to come to Michigan to eek out a living. I never felt like he actually liked anyone...I never saw him smile.

I am sure he was a product of his generation. A hard working man who didn't have time for tenderness with too much responsibility and too little support. I am sure he thought he did his best.

My Dad never spoke about his childhood. There were some stories, some antidotes, a few rumors and a lot of tall tales between the brothers...(was it really true about the cop in Ridgway???) but nothing about my Grandparents.

I think that speaks volumes.

So, Happy Fathers Day to all my family and friends, I hope you have some fond memories of your dad and I hope you pass them on to your kids so they can share them.

Industrial Chic

I have learned so many new terms since starting to sell my creations on line. I thought I was just using existing things to make other things, but apparently I am 'going green'. Now, mostly when things go green that's a bad thing, but not in this application, I guess. If your fingernail should go green, that's not good, if your potatoes go green, that's bad, but in terms of jewelry, its a mighty fine idea.

I am also a Steampunk artist...who knew! Steamppunk, for those of us who have no idea is...well its sorta like...its when...OK, imagine Jules Vern had a rebellious 14 year old with an attitude problem. Yeah, I don't get it either, but I like it a lot!

I upcycle, which is not to say I don't recycle.

I do shabby chic, industrial chic, Gothic chic, Lolita, emo and other forms of chic...with the possible exception of chic. I have never been able to define that word but know it doesn't involve clock parts and hardware.

I repurpose, redesign, reuse, and refurbish.

I rescue the odd and broken and reuse the old and unloved. I scrounge, dig, delve, and discover things that other people pass by.

And in doing so I have met some cupcakes, enjoyed some trainwrecks, made a ton of mistakes as a nubie by calling out and breaking the tous...I have been muted and warned, been in some treasuries but never on the FP...and all in all, its been a lot of fun.

Profitable, not so much.

race week...sigh

I live very close to Michigan International Speedway and, god bless em' they do wonders for the local economy once a year. This weekend is a huge race, don't ask me which one, all I know is its a biggie.

Living near major sporting venues is not a load of laughs and I am glad this particular form of insanity is only a few times a year. I usually hide in the basement and hope I don't run out of any major necessity for the next 5 days.

You can usually tell when race week is heating up, first comes the giant campers 5th. wheels, RVs, and car haulers, all hauling ass down a 2 lane state highway. Next comes the campers, scalpers, food wagons, and flea market vender's. They park wherever they can making impromptu sales venues out of parking lots, turn offs and front lawns.

By Thursday, the 'professionals' are all here, and then the 2nd wave of commerce starts. The garage sales, bake sales, and camp fire wood sellers all make their claims. The locals who have finally sold everything not nailed down and can't bake, will offer their front lawn for parking and camping...even the local Churches get in on the act, and who can blame them...this is serious cash being tossed around.

Finally, my favorites show up...the 'got ticket' guys standing next to the 'I need tickets' guy. And because Michigan has a deposit law on canned soda, kids will erect plywood targets for people to toss their empty's...at ten cents a pop, that adds up.

There are about 10 miles of orange barrels and what seems like an entire battalion of state troopers directing traffic...god help the locals if you need to make a turn.

And finally, starting late Thursday night and continues till the race is over...the conga line of campers, bikers, and spectators. All spending hard earned cash on food, beer and toilet paper.

Last estimate, over a billion dollars of commerce in 3 days.

So, thank you all for coming to my part of the world, and thank you for generally being under control, disciplined and basically decent...no, I will not show you my tits so you can put down the sign, and please remember to wear your sun screen...

Happy dance

Contrary to what my family may say, there are things that make me happy. And, having just spent a fun filled hour at Walmart trying to get the obviously challenged 'martian' to cut fabric for me without the commentary about people 'bothering him when he is thinking', its time for me to reflect on those happy thoughts.

Chocolate in any manner makes me happy...carob is not chocolate.
Coffee in any form makes me happy(with the possible exception of the coffee flavored corn flakes I saw yesterday).
Coffee and chocolate together, even the fakey kind like jamocha shakes, make me extremely happy.
Sales: clearance, estate, going out of business, garage and rummage...they all take me to the happy place.
Friend requests...I have no idea why but they make my day.
Antiques...especially weird ones.
60's music
doughnuts
nail polish
art supplies
Hammer Horror movies (I really miss the late night monster movies)
40's music...thank you satellite radio!
Bessie Smith, Empresses of the Blues
C.O.P.S.
Snarky comments and really funny posts, emails and messages. (just be prepared to get as well as give)
Eyeliner
Sherlock Holmes
Audio books

ahhhh, I feel better now...its almost like I never went to walmart at all.

its a dogs life

I imagine it is hard to sleep 20 hours a day, you both work quite hard at your profession.
You both hold down that couch pretty good, that's impressive.
And both of you are amazing bark machines...but I really don't need you to bark at thunder,
or cars driving past,
or each other,
or mirrors,
or the cats,
or the ringing phone,
or at the ice machine,
or at police dogs on C.O.P.S.
or at me when I am getting out of the shower
or mail ladies, UPS people or the bug guy...

You have my permission to bark when the neighbors house is being broken into,
deer eating my hosta,
strange sounds in the middle of the night...

And go find out what the sound is...don't come barking onto the bed and run in circles...that really doesn't help.

Your job, if you choose to accept it, is to give me one minute to find my glasses and load the gun...after that, you are both on your own.

Oh, and the dog food will be eaten one way or the other...yes, I imagine it would save a lot of steps to just toss the bag in the front yard and eliminate all the steps in between, but humor me and eat what I put in your bowl...its the same in all 3 bowls, so why you feel the need to check out each others is beyond me.

And on those rare occasions when someone actually can find the house and knock on the door...just let me handle it, I'm pretty sure it's not for you.

No you can't have any chocolate, its bad for you and I ain't sharing anyway, get over it...you don't see me drooling over your pig ears do you???

So, just keep dong what you do, snore to your hearts content and try real hard to let me be alpha dog once in a while, after all, I'm the one with thumbs and know where the treats are.

stars in our eyes

I have been spending way too much time watching the Casey Anthony trial and am trying to decide how pure any ones motives are.
The attorneys will all be famous...ala Marsha Clark.
The Judge will be lauded for his no nonsense style and down home ways.
The jurors will no doubt write a book, do the morning show rounds and become local celebrities...
as will the parents,
and the brother,
and the detectives,
and the other assorted players,
and there will be a movie (if only on lifetime)
and, as in the Natelie Hollowell case, a tv show for the grieving parents.

I have been told of people gathering daily to watch the trial as a group.
People magazine is getting their moneys worth out of that little girls face.
Jane Valez Mitchell and Nancy Grace are giving a play by play for those with jobs.
And even Dr. Drew seems to be dedicating his show to this.

Ultimately a family is being destroyed right before our very eyes, and finding her guilty or innocent will not bring that baby back.

Do I think she did it???...yeah.
Am I caught up in the drama of the proceedings?...yeah.

Hopefully everyone will focus on what is important, justice for a little girl who's only crime was to be born to the wrong mother...and turning the people involved into stars have nothing to do with it.

Once in a Blue Moon

Once in blue moon I actually do something artsy-fartsy and am astonished how much satisfaction it brings.

Thousands of years ago, I was on track to be an art therapist...but finances and reality stopped that, so I became that lady at church who could design program covers.

Now my art is mostly on my walls. Every year I try to make Christmas cards, and on occasion I am actually hired to design something...but those projects have been devoured by graphic design software. Time marches on, and over dinosaurs like me.

So now I draw when the spirit moves me. I draw what I like..usually nothing especially artistic with any commentary...just stuff. Today, I designed a simple necklace with a set of eyes, drawn on a tiny slip of paper and mounted in a makeup tin. Funky, and kinda interesting, if I say so myself. I might post it tomorrow, I might keep it myself, who knows.

And I may even break out the pencils and start to draw full time again. That's the beauty of being marginally talented, not enough to matter, too much to ignore. Sorry if that sounds snarky, but its the way I feel. I wish I had the patience to work with the graphic software...I even took a class...spent the 2nd class making a heart, took me an hour. My brain was imploding with the thoughts of ...'or, I can get a pencil and paper and whip it out in like...10 seconds'.

So, once in a blue moon I will actually post drawings here or on my facebook page, not because they are especially artistic, but because its so satisfying.

the blues

Black and blue as in this necklace. (Yeah, that was a bit of a stretch!)

I am amazed at what will cause me to be sad, to think my life sucks and how terrible things are...
Out of work middle aged white lady, with medical issues and no technical skills to make myself marketable...this I can live with, run out of coffee and I will toss myself on the ground like a 2 year old and pitch a giant King Kahama-maha fit.

Sports delay of a TV show will cause me to implode, and gawd help the walls if the batteries run out of the remote.

Sitting in a house with no AC...normally, no biggie...today, huge biggie.

And computer viruses...I hope there is a special place in hell for those rat-bastard geeks who feel the need to sit in there grandmas basement and create havoc for no apparent reason.

Run out of milk...meh...run out of eggs, whatever...run out of bubble bath, somebody better run for cover!

And if I get in my car and it has less than 1/4 tank of gas, somebody had better sit me down like a 2 year old and explain to me in terms even the dog can understand, how you can drive by 98 gas stations and not stop to fill up.

yeah, that one really get me...

all of these 'get' me...I can feel the blood pressure rise just writing this...and the dogs are already hiding under the couch...its gonna be a long night!

the bull starts here

Once in a while I find objects that are so interesting and beautiful I can see the finished product and know it will be wonderful...once in a great, great while.

Usually it involves finding something and deciding if it is usable, can it be fixed, and is it stable enough to work with. Sometimes things are hiding in other things. This 'Bull Durham" tobacco tag was in a blue mason jar stuffed with bits and bobs of someones junk drawer. Does it work as a pin???...I'd wear it, but I've been know to sport a gold smoking jacket and orange high tops, so I may not be the best judge.

And once the item is made, then the 'listing' process starts. If one is to listen to the 12 year old hipsters at Etsy, I am suppose to write some deep philosophical description about how this piece is a depiction of the destruction of mankind in a post apocalyptic world...

Yeah, its a paper tag on a poker chip.

At best, its a paper antique marketing tool on an antique gaming piece with design elements gleaned from the post modernest era.

My entire shop is:
recycled, up cycled, green, steam punk, industrial chic, retro funk and found objects reborn.

Or maybe just stuff piled on other stuff in interesting and pleasing ways.

Whatever it is, it keeps me occupied and off the streets.

tea for one

I do a lot of things by myself, shop, go to movies, go out to eat...alone. I never thought much about that till my mother in law told me she could never (add an involuntary shudder here) go to eat alone, ever.

Me, meh...maybe it comes from traveling so much for business. There is no one more lonely than a person in a strange country all alone. So if I didn't force myself to go, I would have been sitting in hotel rooms watching 30 year old britcoms and eating very bad room service.

And now there are certain things I have to do by myself...I will gladly go shopping with you, but if I need something...leave me alone. Movies, I would much rather go by myself so I don't have to drag anyone to a very bad but highly hyped comedy...(anyone remember the last movie Kelsey Gramer made...stunk on ice!) Plus I don't have to share my over salted popcorn or explain why Harry is suppose to be a great wizard but can't seem to fix his eyesight.

I don't love being alone, especially out here in the boondocks in the middle of winter...but I deal...I have to.

So maybe that's why people keep telling me I spend too much time on the Internet...it makes me feel less alone. I know that someone is out there typing away, posting their own random thoughts and hoping to feel more a part of something.

We can all be together in our aloneness.

Tag, your IT...

I never wanted to be IT...I didn't even know what IT was, but I knew I didn't want to be IT.
I also knew it involved a lot of running, and when I was a kid I wasn't much of a runner, and now with these big-giant-boobs, running is out of the question. So I still don't want to be IT.

I don't have IT.
I never had IT.
Probably can't afford IT.
May have had some of IT but lost most of IT.
Went looking for IT but never found IT.
I know a lot of people who like IT.
Even thought about buying IT but knew I couldn't keep IT.

So, I just go about my business wishing I knew what IT was and if I still need IT.
I guess I have learned to live without IT, so I must not need IT.

So I guess that means








Tag, you're IT!