My Brother-In-Law

Today is the third anniversary of my brother-in-law, Kevin’s death.  He was only 21; it was a motorcycle accident.  I’m just sitting here thinking about him.  He was such a nice kid.

He had a side business repairing computers and setting up networks and all that stuff.  He did the one at our office.  After he died, we were a little lost without him!

I remember one day the spring before he died, it was one of those really warm nice spring days in Missouri and he was out goofing around on his motorcycle.  He came by our house in the late afternoon.  Most boys that age would have kept going when he saw his brother wasn’t home.  But Kevin stopped and I fixed him some iced tea and we sat on the back porch and talked (I can’t remember what we talked about).  He even looked at my scrapbooks and acted interested!  I told you he was a sweet kid!

I have a lot of memories of him – although I wish I had more.  I know he would have loved Shelby and I’m sad she never got to meet him.  This sounds stupid, but I feel bad that the last meal I made for him was diet food because he loved to eat!  But, to be fair, he stopped by after I’d already started dinner.  And it was pretty good – Weight Watchers cheesy enchiladas.  But still.

I have so many memories of him – I see flashes of each of those memories.  But what stands out most is that he was laughing in almost every memory I have of him.  I only have 2 memories where he wasn’t laughing; and one of those was a funeral.

Kevin is missed still.

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Altered Thrift Store Find and Random Organization.

I signed up for a swap wherein each person is supposed to alter something they find at the thrift store.  First, I have to tell you about my local thrift store because I think it’s so cool.  I live in a smallish town where none of the churches are really big enough to support a food pantry, clothes closet, Angel tree, etc. so they all work together to provide those services.  The thrift store money goes to that organization.

For my project, I got a denim skirt, a scarf, and a belt.  I spent less than $2.00.  I cut the bottom of the skirt and sewed a triple seam on the wrong side to make a bag.  I left the pockets intact to form nice side pockets.  I then cut the ends off the belt and stitched it to the sides to form the strap.  I tied the scarf around the bag just to dress it up and finish it off.

I’m really happy with how it turned out.

I know there are a lot of people who made New Year’s resolutions to get organized.  I have decided to help you poor souls.  Okay, not really, I just want to show off a little.

My craft room is pretty small considering how much crap good stuff I have crammed in there, so I’m always looking for ways to contain it.  Especially small items.  I like to be able to see all my stuffies, otherwise I forget I have it.

I got these 2 shadow boxes at my local thrift store for a dollar each and use them to hold rubber stamps and other random little things.

My original intent was to refinish the white one but I decided I rather liked the shabby look was too lazy to do it.  I still think it looks pretty cool though.

This final picture is my favorite organizational tip.  I got a magnetic knife strip from Bed, Bath, and Beyond and use it to hold my scissors.  Since I do both paper and fabric crafts, I have scissors for each.  In order to differentiate, I tie a little ribbon around my fabric scissors.  I’ve done it for years and can’t remember who I should credit with the idea.  I’m sure it wasn’t mine since I’m not that creative.  It could very well have been Martha Stewart.

I hope you’ve enjoyed my showing off.  And I hope you are duly impressed.

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What happens when daddies take naps?

My husband called me at work today and asked, “What takes red food coloring out?”  I asked back, “Out of what?” 

Let me show you some pictures and you can fill in the rest of the conversation for yourself.

Poor Meat was totally beside himself.  He thought they were going to be stuck home all day because, to use his words, “I’m not taking her out into public like this!”

I was cracking up.  I mean, once you’ve had your eight week old baby handed to you with tar on her heels, there is very little that can shock you anymore.  This is seriously the funniest (and cutest) thing I’ve seen in a long time.  The red handprints all over my carpet aren’t quite as funny – but they kind of are!  And look how much fun she’s having!

Apparently, I can’t follow instructions.  According to Pip Stitch’s tag, I was supposed to post the fourth picture from my fourth folder; not the sixth from the sixth.  I figured that, with my luck, the 4th of the 4th would be a blurry picture of my thumb or something.  But it’s actually a really good picture.  My mom took this picture of mine and my husband’s fishing boat down at The Lake of the Ozarks last summer.

A couple summers ago, Meat’s uncle called and asked if we wanted the boat.  It had been Meat’s grandfather’s.  My darling husband didn’t want it because it had been sitting outside so long, but I told him that I really really wanted it.  So he went up and dragged it home for me.  Would you believe that, after sitting outside for over a decade, that engine started right up?  There was a little smoke and some oil was required, but it started!  Anyway, we’ve had a lot of fun with the boat and Meat is very glad I made him go get it.

And apparently this boat is very unusual because of the steering.  I don’t know about that, all I know is that when we go to a gas station pulling our boat, men come up and ask my husband about it.  So it must be cool.

I would love to post a link to Pip Stitch’s blog, but I still can’t figure it out.  So if you don’t mind, just look to your right and there is a link over there.

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Here’s A Hint for All You Criminals Out There

First of all, isn’t my new header awesome?  My friend Tammy did it.  She doesn’t have a blog, but she should.  She’s very funny freaking hilarious.  (I have funny friends.  I figure if I hang out with funny people then other people will think I’m funny too.)

Anyway, onto Helpful Hints from Mary.  I spent my morning in criminal court.  About 2 1/2 years ago I got pulled over and couldn’t find my insurance card.  Not having insurance in Missouri is apparently a criminal offense.  Then there were paperwork problems and it became a whole big mess that I won’t get into right now.

Nonetheless, I spent my morning in criminal court and now I feel that I must editorialize on the experience.  Let’s start with the basics.  If you are in criminal court, whether you are guilty as sin or innocent as the wind-driven snow, your sole purpose in life at that moment is to convince the judge that you are a productive and responsible member of society so that he will go easy on you.  So why in the heck would you show up to court looking like you are about to go out on a roofing crew?  (Note: there is nothing in this world wrong with being a roofer, I’m simply making the point that your roofing wardrobe is – or should be – different from your going-to-court wardrobe.)

Half the people there smelled as though they hadn’t bathed in a week.  It was so gross that I spent the morning trying not to gag on the smell.

I can’t tell you how many women were wearing sweatsuits.  I don’t care if you did buy it at Macy’s and it cost $100, a sweatsuit is a sweatsuit and is not appropriate attire for court.  Neither are tennis shoes.  Additionally, you girls with the faded yoga pants and flannel jackets – no way!  Come on people!  Take a bath, comb your hair and put on clean, ironed clothes.  Even if all you own are jeans, at least wash and iron them.

Now, young men … if you do not want the judge to think you are a thug, do not dress like one.  For starters, it is inappropriate to wear a ball cap inside the courthouse but especially the courtroom!  And, if you don’t want the bailiff to get nervous and shoot your dumb butt, then for Pete’s sakes, pull up your pants and take the hoodie off.  Can you believe that I actually saw grown men with their hood up over their heads in court?!  More than one!

Sheesh.  I would have thought it would be obvious that you would need to look presentable when you go before a judge, but I guess some people just don’t get it.  Besides that, if I have to be all miserable and uncomfortable in panty hose and high heels, then you should too.  It’s only fair.

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I sewed! No laughing.

Seriously.  You are not allowed to laugh at my sewing attempts.  You are not even allowed to smirk.  Joy, I see you smirking!  Just because you sew lovely creations every day doesn’t mean you can smirk at me!

First I should give you some background.  I can’t sew.  And I finally realized that it might not actually be because I can’t sew but rather that sewing takes practice and I don’t have the patience to put up with the sewing machine long enough to practice.  My needle is always coming unthreaded, I get hunched over and my shoulders hurt, it’s just a pain in the neck.

I had an IB English teacher who, in all her infinite wisdom, felt that people should learn to do many things.  Or at least try them.  Okay, I can’t say as I disagree with her, I’ve tried many things over the years.  But she decided we needed to learn something new as a semester project.  I thought, in all my infinite wisdom, that it would be fun to try sewing.  It was not.  Choosing the pattern and the fabric was fun, cutting it out wasn’t bad, putting the stupid thing together nearly drove me to drink.  And I was only 15!

So my forays into sewing have been limited.  However, I got some sort of brain fart last week and decided that I needed to make myself a purse.  A purse of all things.  What was I thinking?  But it’s a rag quilt purse, so I figured it wouldn’t be too bad.  And it wasn’t, except for the part with the sewing machine.  And, with a rag quilt, getting straight seams isn’t quite as imperative as it is with other projects.  I actually finished it in a day.  To be fair though, my mom and sister came over and played with Shelby while I quilted the blocks.  And then I put them together after she went to bed.

Here it is in all its glorious gloriousness.

You can buy patterns to make these online but, being the engineer-type that I am, I just drew my own sketch.  I did, however, misoverestimate the amount of fabric I would need.  By twice.  I’m still not sure how that happened.

Feel free to leave comments.  But no laughing.  And no haranguing.  I mean it!

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Guest Blogger – My Friend Letty

If you read the comments that people leave on my blog, you might have noticed some from Letty.  She’s a dear friend and we’ve known each other since probably Kindergarten.  Letty sends me the funniest emails – usually about our past dorkiness – so I’ve been trying to talk her into starting her own blog.  But she won’t (boo hiss).  I have, however, convinced her to be a guest blogger over here.

She told me I could edit her post any way I saw fit.  I did not see fit.  But I do have to mention this because Letty is too nice to do so – she may have been tone deaf, but I have the rhythm of a rabid jackrabbit.  So it was probably just as much my fault as hers!

Without further ado … Here’s Letty!

 Mary’s recent post on an elementary school memory prompted a nostalgic trip down memory lane of my own. Some of the most hilarious, and disatrous (therefore somewhat embarrassing), grade school memories stem from the annual Greenwood Elementary Talent Show. Every late spring the school with abuzz with preparations of this event once the flyers were sent home advertising auditions. Unlike my children’s more progessive elementary school where any child willing may participate, our grade school made you go before a table of judges (maybe it was only the music teacher- I actually don’t remember that part) and “try out”. I guess they wanted to avoid having a small little 1st grader freeze with stage fright while we all sat there and stared, or wasting hours upon hours of what should be named “the UN-talent show”.
 
         All the cool, of course talented, kids were selected and the resulting 90 minute or so show was quite entertaining. The most two memorable acts I can recall were when a group of teachers donned black trash bags and danced and sang to “I heard it through the grapevine” and a group of “cool popular” kids did a skit to “Splish, Splash I was taking a bath”. Therefore, in this tradition, I wanted to join this elite group of entertainers and also bring such joy to my peers. I, little farm-girl, bookworm, musically un-talented me, decided I should showcase my “talents” as well. Because I was not one of the priviliged girls who took dance or gymnastics to do some flashy routine, I had to think of something else.
 
          I believe I was in either first of second grade the first time I dreamed of performing on stage somewhere besides my backyard. I enlisted the help of my friend (who I have no idea what became of her to this day!) and we meekly walked onto the stage for our big chance to stardome. I remember seeing my mother smiling oh so sweetly watching me and my friend fight over the microphone and sing “Jesus Loves Me” acappella. I guess it shouldn’t have been a surprise were we not selected that year. I don’t remember being too disappointed though, and decided to try again.
 
            This time Mary, my dear musically talented friend, and I auditioned together. This was probably third or fourth grade (Mary- do you remember?). Mary had been talking piano lessons so we thought we could showcase that while I sang. After practicing at her house, we were ready for the big moment. I had selected a prop for our selection “Lavendar’s Blue”, a nice bushel of fake blue flowers. While Mary played away at the piano I stood beside her holding the flowers and attempted to sing. Again, my mother sat ever so sweetly watching me in quiet support. I think I missed the cue and sang off-beat (or whatever that is called when you aren’t singing along with the notes- I am some sort of tone-deaf). Singing is definately not one of my “gifts”. Again, I was rejected, but yet again don’t remember being too heartbroken.
 
           Ever to preservere, I made my next attempt. By 5th or 6th grade (again, I don’t remember) my creative writing skills had developed to a point where I could write a skit. It involved a grandmother watching a TV with a real person in it and something about a burglar coming into the room, I don’t really remember any of these details. I was so enthusiatic that my attempt at writing and directing was going to be hit and promptly started casting the performers. As the rehearsing processes began (at Recess, of course, since we couldn’t get any of our parents to drive us to a central location)
my players began dropping out, either to join another person’s talent group or for fear of failure. I had to finally coherce severely un-talented classmates to participate. I only had one guy who really did a good job. I couldn’t even get the other people to learn their lines. So that audition was a complete flop. I remember one boy completely forgetting his lines and just standing there dumbfounded while huge props just falling over. I remember being very fustrated but laughing uncontrollably because it just was so wrong. I guess that was better than crying in front of everyone! Still, I was not allowed to participate in that year’s talent show. I finally gave up.
 
           In retrospect, the powers that be at Greenwood Elementary placed way too much emphasis on the Talent Show. It was entertaining, yes, but it just reinforces society’s perception of worth based on entertainment value. I am glad my children’s school does allow everyone to participate, although it may contribute to the problem of the “over-praised child”. If I could do it over again, I probably would audition again- it was really fun preparing for them- and enduring rejection just strengthened my character. Just don’t ever expect me to do Karoake!

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The Things We Say.

When I was expecting Shelby, people would tell me all the time, “Your life is going to change after the little one is born.”  I always had to fight back an overwhelming urge to fake faint from the shock of that!  Who knew, right?  It would make Meat Galore mad when people told him that.  He would come home and ask me, “Why does everyone think I’m an idiot?  Do they really think I don’t know my life is going to change?”

But I don’t think we were quite prepared for the idiotic things that would come out of our mouths after becoming parents.  Take today for instance.  Imagine my surprise to hear my beloved shout, “Shelby!  Don’t lick the trash can!”

I can only hope and pray that we aren’t still saying that when she’s in high school.

Patty over at Pip Stitch “tagged” me.  For all of you non-bloggers, it’s the blogosphere equivalent of email forwards.  But it’s more fun (and I kind of like Patty) so I’ll participate.

I’m supposed to share the 6th picture in my 6th folder.  So here it is.

I took this picture on our way home from St. Louis last November.  It’s on I-70 over by Lambert Field.  I do believe that it’s the most non-sensical sign I have ever seen.  Does it mean that you are in violation of the law if you are injured?  Should everyone move off the roadway?  How will injuries be avoided if everyone is moving off the roadway?

Okay, for those of you who don’t know me and who haven’t caught on to my super-dry sense of humor yet, I know what point the sign is trying to make.  There’s no need to explain it to me.  But you have to admit that it’s a pretty dumb and ambiguous way to word a sign.

I have to end this post now so I can go tell my kid not to eat toilet paper.

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Gloriously Bad Fabulous Inventions

Sometimes I see an invention and I think, “Okay, that has to be the dumbest thing I ever saw.”  But, upon further reflection, I realize that it might actually be genius.  I guess genius sometimes comes disguised as stupid inventions.  Take, for instance, these slippers I found in my mom’s latest Current Catalog.

But wait!  They aren’t just slippers.  They are mop slippers.  Sure they’re ugly and probably pose a dangerous slipping risk, but think of all the time you’ll save!  I’m all about combining efficiency with style!

As I pondered what a great invention these actually were and other ways to combine efficiency with style, my free-associating mind wandered back to the 4th Grade Science and Invention Fair that we were all required to participate in.  That was the first year that I got my glasses and they were always dirty.  So I thought it would be cool to mount washing fluid on top of the lenses and tape a package of camera lens wipes to the side.  This way, when the wearer’s glasses got dirty (this only worked if they were dirty from the outside, if you got mascara on the inside, then you would apparently be SOL), he or she needed only to remove the lid from the conveniently located fluid, squirt some on the lenses, and then grab a w ipe and dry them off!

Seriously.  Does anything sound cooler than walking around with 2 bottles of eyeglass cleaner glued to your glasses?  Well, maybe pocket protectors are cooler.  Oh yeah, and my graphing calculator with the belt loop on the case.  But other than that.  My dad helped me construct this wonder of 4th grade invention – he never said a word that maybe this was a little goofy.  He was either very supportive or very nerdy.  I’ll go with supportive since he’s always supported anything I’ve wanted to try.  Except for the whole broom fiasco, but that’s a story for a different day.

So my cool 4th grade self with the poodle haircut anxiously awaited the big day when I would present my marvelous invention to the 4th grade masses.  Our teacher was even going to video tape us!  (It was the late 80’s, VHS was totally in.)  When Miss Clark called my name, I donned my teal colored sunglasses (for some strange reason, my parents wouldn’t let me alter the regular glasses they had just purchased for me – haters) and confidently walked to the front of the class.  I still remember what I was wearing.  Tight-rolled stone washed jeans, a teal colored State Ballet of Missouri sweatshirt and high top Reeboks.

I explained how my invention (strangely, I can’t remember what I called it – probably something cool like “Self Cleaning Glasses”) would save the user endless hours of rummaging through purses/briefcases/etc. searching for cleaner and towels, unscrewed the cap, leaned my head back, squeezed the bottle ever so gently … But I apparently miscalculated the force required to squeeze out an appropriate amount of fluid (this would not be my last terrible miscalculation in a science experiment but it was one of my first).  I gloriously squirted about half the bottle of fluid straight into … … … my mouth.  On camera.

Can you just imagine the face I made?  All the kids were rolling with laughter; except the ones who were just sitting there looking confused of course.  If I remember correctly, I got an A.  I’m sure the grade was more for my willingness to suffer the consequences of eyeglass cleaning fluid poisoning in order to further the cause of scientific inventions than it was for the smashing success of my invention.

Sometimes I wonder whatever became of that video tape.  I hope it got destroyed in some natural disaster.  To this day, I’m sure that tape is 90% of the reason that I am terrified of having myself video taped.

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Weight Loss Surgery for Dummies.

I was at a thrift store junk shop in the next town over and stumbled upon this book (sorry for the dark picture, my flash was giving me woes and making a glare):

I was super-excited.  Mostly because I thought it was a how-to book.  I figured that the 82 cents they wanted for it was a good investment and that performing weight loss surgery would be a good way to earn some extra cash (beer money as my dad calls it).

Medical school is over-rated anyway.  Besides, what better teachers for complex internal surgery than the publisher of Lifestyles magazine and a patient advocate?  And they couldn’t be totally out to lunch; after all, an MD is the first listed author!  But what really sealed the deal for me was the exclamation on the cover, “‘Weight Loss Surgery for Dummies is really for smart people who want to make an intelligent, informed choice.’  Al, Roker, NBC Weatherman”  Al Roker is smart, right?  And besides that, he’s on tv!  He must know what he’s talking about!

I was terribly saddened and disappointed that it’s really just a book on how to decide if you some dummie should have weight loss surgery.  (It doesn’t seem like it would take an entire book to make that decision, but que sera sera, right?)  I guess I’ll have to find another way to make some extra cash…

(Shameless plug: Check out my new Etsy shop at http://www.marybt.etsy.com.)

I’m off to the library to check out Representing Yourself In A Criminal Case for Dummies.  Wait a minute!  Isn’t Al Roker … … on the chubby side?

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CrapTABULOUS Tuesday

I know this will surprise you all since I’m so crafty and Martha-y and all that; but sometimes my crafts just don’t turn out all that well.  What we have here is a glittered nightmare.

It was supposed to be a Valentine’s Day garland.  I do still kind of like the birds though, I wish I hadn’t poked holes through them so I could use them on a card or something.  That red glitter is amazing.  I got it on clearance at Michael’s after having drooled over it during the entire Christmas Shopping Season.  It’s Garnet by Martha Stewart.

 

You know the worst part?  My husband went to JoAnn’s with me in November and we picked out the bird Sizzix die together.  Well, when I went to use it 2 nights ago for this project, I realized that Sizzix is in some kind of racket and my beloved bird die with only work with some kind of special big Sizzix machine, not the original machine that I own.  And, of course, it’s the one receipt from the last 12 years that I can’t find.  Since it was a Christmas item, I’m sure JoAnn’s will give me approximately 4 cents in store credit with no receipt.  So what I had to do was trace around the holes and then just make a template.  That’s right.  I cut out 4 of those suckers by hand.

If that’s not craptabulous enough for you, here’s something else crappy.  Blue Bunny Light Bunny Tracks Ice Cream.

Now I have eaten a lot of diet food in the last 3 or 4 years, but nothing as disgusting as this “ice cream” (I’m being generous here by calling it that).  Oh my gosh!  Not only is it bad from the first bite, but it also leaves an aftertaste like cold 8 day old coffee grounds.  Bleck.  The peanut butter and “chocolate” are super hard too, I thought I was going to break my tooth on this stuff!

Most of you know that I am a Peeps Purist.  But, when I saw these, I just had to get them.  That’s because I thought they were little sailors.

Any guesses on what they really are?  That’s wrong.  Nope.  Unh-uh. 

Give up?

They are snowmen!  I know, they look like chimney-sweeping sailors, but they are supposed to be snowmen.  Great job, Peeps.

That felt good.  I should do more CrapTABULOUS Tuesdays. 

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