A New Addiction, Shoes, and One Hideous Purse

"La vert est la couleur de vie." (Green is the color of life in French).

I've had this t-shirt idea in my head for awhile after I watched a screen printing how-to video on the web. I ordered some large screens and ink for my Gocco and it's been sitting in the studio unopened until yesterday. For my first shot at t-shirt making, I don't think it turned out too terrible.

I spent yesterday running errands in the little town that I live in. It isn't often that I shop locally since nothing is open past 5:00pm on the weekdays. (I'm exaggerating-the grocery store is-but it is ridiculous since I'm willing to gander that 65% of this town is made up of commuters who aren't home before 5:00 pm). Plus, I try to make the best use of my lunch hours during the week and shop where I work.

There are 3 places that I do visit semi-annually; the boutique clothing store, the coffee shop, and the purse palace.

The clothing store is hit or miss. My guess is the clientele of this place is mostly the geriatric community. I saw a lot of embroidered flip-flop t-shirts but on occassion they have a few pieces that speak to an alternate generation. They had a 25% of the whole store day (Did I mention along with being geared for retirees, this place is expensive!?) and I thought I'd check it out.

I found these shoes that are really comfy, kinda cute (for both the oldies and the X'ers), and the kicker for me (a sucker for creative branding) was the little tag that includes the phrase "Let down your hair". I broke out the green (are you sensing a certain color preference?) nail polish-I know, moldy toes-and donned my new shoes.

(Note my right foot. The 3rd to is longer than the second. We affectionately call these "tard toes" in our house. Little Mister has them, little miss does not.")

After the boutique, little mister and I ran to the coffee shop. He had $13 in cash and offered to pay for our coffees (his, a smoothie). He beamed because he got to take care of his mama. The kid knows the way to my heart-caffeine.

The last stop was the purse palace. I, now $8.00 richer since little mister hooked me up, thought we'd check it out. This store is open only one weekend a month (a business model that I don't get that obviously works for them) so if you like something the window of opportunity to purchase is small-the hurry in philosophy at it's best.

This, "hideous" as dubbed by little miss, was my find. It reminds me of something Anthropologie would carry AND it was on clearance (can you imagine?)

This little town has amazing potential to be one of those towns that people love to visit for the shopping, the food, the vibe. Not quite there but...I'll do whatever I can to get it there.

A New Card...

Haven't created a card since Rachael's graduation card-it's easier to make one when there is an intended recipient. There isn't one for this one today (the operative word here) but married women, or just women in general, everywhere will smile. (Or those with a sense of humor will.)

My daily commute I spend thinking, singing, or listening-not necessarily in this order but this card (or something like it) came to me and I had to write it down. See a later post for the real thing.

I love cards that are made for "un-Hallmark" occassions. For example, Paper Stories has a great line called "Bittersweet"-I have the set but have yet to use them. Such a waste of good card stock. Notice I never said I didn't want to use them. (Love you, big mister:)

Anyways, the foo-foo card to the left..The line inside (censor alert here):

"What a crock of shit, huh?"

Call it a break-up, a divorce, a full moon that causes the argument over how many m&m's you should or shouldn't eat. It's life and it's pretty funny sometimes.

Fathers, Fabric, and Fortune

Happy Father's Day, Dad.


My father's lessons:



1.) If you have love, you need nothing else.

2.) Out of everything, there is a blessing.

3.) When you love someone, it is forever, no matter what.

Love you, Dad.


Got an email on Friday from my inner conscience (also known as Mrs. Possibility). She has this uncanny ability to just always get it, no matter what. To tell it like it is and to remain calm, to trust and know herself. I aspire to have it..

Anyways, the email...

Point #1-Because the day...stretching outbefore me...filled (at the moment) with limitless opportunities...is...ALL IHAVE!

Point #2-This is...Your Day.
Not "their" day.
This Day belongs...ULTIMATELY...to You.
Not "them."

Talk about rattling a core. (And guilt for not living today!) Thank you, Mrs. Possibility. I needed the "time out".

So, I lived a little, my style, this weekend and tackled this bag by Sew Liberated.

I also found Scrap Fabric Use #103...Fabric Fortune Cookies(tutorial here).. (I wonder to myself Why all the Asian inspired stuff lately? I haven't a clue.) We could all use some encouragement every now and then. (Especially if Dad isn't available or Mrs. Possibility is single-handedly
busy running her empire and family...thank you universe for these people.

Happy Sunday!

I used this quote for one of the cookies, only I wrote it out of sequence but still, a goodie.


"You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem and smarter than you think."
Author: Christopher Robin

Paths and Pandas

My day job requires me to be physically hunched over a desk calculating daily sales and % changes and I am doing this-on the outside.

On the inside; I am writing a book, purchasing inventory for the Urban Market, painting walls (at the market and in my bedroom), designing marketing materials, sewing with a fantastic stack of new fabric I recently received, worrying about my children, making dinner, formulating witty rebuttals to things that have irked me that I should've just said aloud and wondering just how much of my life I'm going to waste thinking.

(To segue, for a moment; This may go against the core principle I set for with the paper crane wishes but for you, Mr. Condescending, I wish for you to get a life. Yeah, I allowed ego to have her way but sometimes you just have to let go. Not sure you can tell someone to get a life politely or professionally.)

I get so tired of hearing myself think some days that I wish for the "OFF" switch. So I made a deal with myself that I would do a "ME" thing this evening. (The thinking goes away when I'm wrapped up in a creative frenzy.)

Well, as you moms know, "ME" things get pushed to the back burner. Movie night took over "ME" night. We floated (raining again) to the theater to see Kung Fu Panda.

Much to my delight, the movie was funny, visually fantastic, and (love this) had a poignant and rather relevant lesson. I won't spoil it for anyone but I wanted a pen in the middle of the movie. Yes, I know, I'm reduced to quoting cartoon characters...................ready?

"One meets his destiny often on the road he takes to avoid it."

Well, duh.

Home, Old Tennis Shoes and Rain

Up until Saturday, we have experienced 5 consecutive days of grey weather. While I'm not opposed to nuetral colors, seeing the world in this hue is getting old. It rained again today-ugh. This bush, perhaps having a different agenda, looked like it was ready for the Oscars-sparkly little thing.

We spent Saturday at another graduation party. Attended this one out of family loyalty-damn the guilt-more than for the desire to wish the graduate a happy future. The party was held in our old hometown. It's funny to drive down the main drag and listen to the kids "Remember this.." stories. Both of them were born there and I suspect little miss will always think of it as home. She's told me more than once that our house where we live today still doesn't feel like home. (Though, the disaster area she calls a bedroom speaks to the contrary.)

After the party, as is customary, I asked my husband if we could drive by our old house. His usual response of, "It's not our house anymore." was instead, "Ugh, you're lucky I love you." He, too, was born here (me, the only foreigner) so his sentimentalism for this little city is always jaded. His analogy, (which is dead on), is that this place is like an old pair of tennis shoes. They're old, worn-in, and comfy but after a while they get holey, start to smell and it's time to get a new pair.


We stopped at Grandma's to use her bathroom. Little mister made a bee-line for the garage where grandma has an old bike (circa 1970) that he has dubbed the "Old-Timer" which for whatever reason, he loves to ride on. He begged to go for a walk and ride "Old-Timer" so we did. I'm sure the only love "Old-Timer" gets is from little mister-how could we disappoint it?

We often entertained ourselves walking up and down these streets, dreaming of one day moving into the gingerbread houses that grace this little town. We walked by our favorites; the little gnome house with it's manicured lawn and cedar siding complete with real wood window boxes spiling over with petunias, the huge spanish style with tile roof, the yucky house with the plaster St. Bernard that now is gone but replaced when an equally tacky owl.

All was right in the world; Little miss walked next to us and listened to our stories and added her own. Little mister, happy as a clam, on "Old-Timer" and the feel of big mister's hand in mine with the sound of his voice sans the jaded view of these streets.

We had outgrown this sleepy little town and it was time for us to move on when we did. Leaving here was good for the kids, good for all of us. But, I do miss the familiarity, the comfort. The way you knew if tragedy of any kind swooped down on your family-Paulette, Brenda, and Sandy would be on your doorstep with hotdishes for a week, hugs handed out like cookies, and an open-ended invitation to call whenever you needed anything. To go trick-or-treating and to have a complete stranger know your last name based purely on the shape and color of your child's eyes. It's weird what makes you feel at home.

I've since purchased the new tennis shoes but every once in awhile I like to put on the old pair and remember what they feel like.