Pre-Friday Ramble Concerning Dogs.

In the light of it being Black Friday this week, I'm getting a jump on my Friday Ramble. No, I will not be out at o-dark thirty shopping. I will be snuggled in my bed, wondering what those of you that have braved the Black Friday madness have scored......

I'm thinking I might have some parental/pet owner advice for you.

When you have a dog that is prone to separation anxiety in a rather large way, it is good to be proactive and have the vet prescribe some doggie prozac. It is good to have the vet prescribe said prozac before the work is done on your house as it takes about three weeks for the desired effect to kick in. Being the smart pet owner that you are, you have now preempted door chewing on the newly repaired door frames (please note the plural in door frameS)  by your rather anxious dog whenever you leave your home.

But wait. Your husband is appalled at the cost of the doggie prozac!!! He says to cut the dose in half!!! When you protest, he pulls the "I am a doctor" card and knows how to dose this medication. So, you acquiesce and spend the next three weeks giving your pet half the dose.

Here is what happens.

You bite your tongue. You actually are too horrified to begin thinking of saying "I TOLD you so's"  You turn miserably toward your husband and say, "What on earth do we DO?? Find her a new home???"

Herein lies your greatest mistake. 

By this I don't mean giving your dog just half the dose of prozac.

You need to MAKE SURE YOUR CHILD IS NOT WITHIN EARSHOT OF ISSUING THIS THREAT.

Mass havoc will reign. Lots of tears will come forth. ESPECIALLY when your child thinks you have said, "What on earth do we DO? Put her down??"

You will feel like a worm and promise your child almost anything to make her stop crying. Heaven help you, but you are desperate enough to entertain frantic thoughts of promising her a puppy to make her stop crying.

Once you have your child convinced you will not kill your dog on the spot and have stopped the flood of tears without promising a puppy, you will then go downstairs, and being the good pet owner you are, grab the jar of peanut butter and give your dog the other half of the pill. The next morning, you will give your dog more peanut butter and the entire pill, and you will repeat this for the next two days.

Here is where you will quite possibly doubt if you are really a good pet owner because you will find your dog is standing on the dresser at the foot of your bed, stoned out of her mind, and not really sure of where she is.

You pray a lot these days, and as you gently get your dog off of the dresser and onto the floor, you pray you haven't overdosed your beloved (?) pet.

There is redemption to this ramble.

The dog ends up tolerating the full dose and you don't have to pay an exorbitant vet bill to pump her stomach. The dog seems to have mellowed out just a tad. Hopefully, enough to make her stop chewing the door frames. (Probably not, but we will pull a Scarlette and think about this tomorrow.) Your child allows the dog to sleep on her bed for the first time in eight years. The family agrees to take turns making sure the dog gets some form of exercise every day. (The family doesn't know this yet, but the Come to Jesus Meeting is going to happen.)

I wish you a Happy Thanksgiving, full of joy and un-chewed door frames. I am thankful for each and everyone of you that stops by!

Friday Ramblings

Wow.

Just wow.

So, I'm realizing it's been two weeks since I did a Friday Ramble..

which is way too long.

We have had an election and the paint guys are finished. I have done an art show and am getting ready for two more. Part of the house is actually finished.

So far, we know the employees at Lowe's Hardware by name.

Oh, and here's a fun part of remodeling. Your husband calls and doesn't ask if you need him to pick up milk at the store, he calls to ask if you need anything picked up at Lowe's.

Of course, just when you think it's almost done, someone comes in and tears something up again. Like today.

When our house was built, I am totally convinced the builders were stone drunk. Either that, or it was built by a couple of three year olds. 

Our walls bow out, the windows aren't square, the flashing was never installed, and the stairs were never properly built. You could put your hand in between the carpet and stairs...a big, gaping hole. Kinda creepy, but NOT ANY MORE. Nosireebob. We have proper stairs now. 

I still haven't gotten to use a nail gun yet. 

Hopefully that will change soon.

There is something life changing about remodeling.

In our case, it's cabinet locks on the cupboard where the trash goes.

Miss Party is not happy, however.

I promise pictures of the house. As soon as I find my camera.

Is your area being bombarded with Christmas advertisements? I think the marketing industry is making up for lost time. I am so not ready. It's a little crazy around here. Some businesses can't make up their mind.

In one day, I went from this:

Thanks for the reminder so I won't forget the date...

to this:

Do you listen to an "oldie" station on the radio? My eldest does, and sometimes I do. Sometimes I don't like to be reminded just how old I have become. Sometimes it is a fun flashback. Like this weekend, for example.

 "Taking Care of Business" by Bachman Turner Overdrive came on when 

I was in the car with Lauren and Brenna. Immediately, I was transferred back in time.

"TWO WORDS, LAUREN. TWO WORDS!!!" I yell.  Lauren says, "Ohhh-kaaay. What two words, Mom?"

Roller Rink.

"Wow, mom. I bet you tore that rink up."

Ahem. 

My child knows me too well. I could never quite let go of the ledge, but in my mind, I was flying in circles around the rink. In my dittos. 

Google it if you are too young.

We tore it up on the merry go round this weekend.

Much easier than a roller rink.

Let's change to the subject of grief, shall we?

It's our first Holiday Season without our mom.

I found myself at Trader Joe's yesterday, actually grocery shopping to actually cook, which is not something you do a lot when the house is covered in plastic and men are painting until 8 p.m. (Yet another plus of remodeling.)

I was in the frozen food isle, and I looked up at the shelves. 

Rows and rows of Holiday Cookies. 

I thought someone had punched me in the chest.

My mom loved sweets. Holiday cookies were the best. Stars, shortbread, chocolate, my sister's gum drop cookies, little sugar santas, cupcakes with the little plastic bells stuck into the frosting...you name it, she bought it over the years.

I walked away, blinking back tears.

Unfortunately, I had to go back through the frozen isle and I found myself staring at the boxes of stars and peanut brittle as if they could give me an answer as to why grief is so confusing.

I ended up locked in the bathroom for a big boo-hoo.

At the check out, the nice man asked me, "How are you doing today?" I contemplated telling him that my day began by the battery in my car dying and I was locked in the bathroom of his store by 10:00 in the morning, crying over Christmas cookies. 

However, I refrained and instead, told him I was "fine." Which I basically was, thanks to the lock on the bathroom door.

How about that time change?

HATE. IT.

Brenna and I are starving at 5:00 and she wants her pajamas on. I think it's time to go to bed by 7:00.

It's also not good for cooking dinner on the BBQ. I do this as far into the year as I can. But I just can't start the meat by 4:00, so the end result was putting on my husband's head light he uses for biking.

Brenna thinks I have lost my mind. 

Maybe so...

Friday Ramblings

I thought I had hit my limit for chaos this week. 

When one waves a white flag, doesn't that mean it gets better?

Like being on a roller coaster and knowing you have hit the peak and you are screaming all the way down and the end is just around the corner.

Not so much.

Especially when your new painter-friends look at you like you are talking out of your ears because they thought this would be a spray one color and be done job. I reminded him that I had told him what I wanted and then asked if he really wanted the job. He said yes, of course! But it will take "many days." Apparently they are behind all ready. Then one painter-man tells me he is a trainer for cage fighters. Did he really need to tell me this just because he saw we have a chin up bar in the house? I really don't want to make a cage-fighter upset, would you?

Let me back track just a bit.

Coming from the crazy household I grew up in, needs were not on the top of the priority list. Raging was. Working out a problem, not so much. Drinking was also a priority, and it really didn't lend itself to a healthy way of learning how to make your needs known. I did learn to make others happy and make everything o.k. and clean up messes and to be quiet and meet my own needs. I learned exceptionally well to just put my head down and get 'er done. No problem and no worries were my mantra. Ya'll just do what you need to do and I'll come in after you and quietly make it the way it should be to make everyone  happy. 

This doesn't work after a while. It doesn't work after about a day, but I got really, really good at it and soon after having Brenna,  I realized it wasn't helping me at ALL and I couldn't make everything o.k. for everyone else AND take care of a special needs child.

I have sought lots and L.O.T.S. of help for this and other anxieties in my life and continue to do so. It's a life long process, this life.

Back to my painter-friends. 

They finished the kitchen and family room yesterday and I hate the colors. My husband says it looks like a baby boy's room and needs white puffy clouds painted on the ceiling. For me, the colors are too jarring and I'm completely unsettled and I feel like I'm in a church's nursery room and need to fill the room with plastic toys.

It needs to be changed. I need to tell my new painter-friends they have to re-paint. This would be confrontation to me, or at least the possibility of it. It also has the great potential for making them upset. Especially the cage fighter.

 I work this out by waking up at 2:45 a.m. and obsessing how I will get my needs known to my new friends without a huge argument and little to no confrontation.  This also includes working out every single scenario possible in my head. 

Have you ever noticed working this out at 3 a.m. is NOT the best time of the day to work out a problem?

My sweet husband told me, (at 3:00) "It's a room. It's not like something major has been broken. If we need to, I'll paint it this weekend." Why this didn't comfort me to go right back to sleep is beyond me.

I got up and went downstairs to contemplate my new toy room. Maybe I could live with it.

I can't. I hate it. How will I approach my painter-friends?

(Insert various scenarios again and again working through my head here.)

After watching nothing on T.V. for a distraction I managed to back asleep in the middle of praying around 4:30.

I am happy to report today that I talked to my new friends. I told them what a fabulous job they have done in painting but I just don't like the color. No drinking needed before hand and no raging afterward. Pretty cool.

 Their response?  "Ohhhh. The whole room? Ohhhh. O.K."

No confrontation.

It will take more time and they do have a job to get to after my house, so I said maybe they could come back after finishing that job and repaint.

The cage fighter guy? He didn't like the color either, but didn't want to say anything.

O.K., THAT scenario definitely did not make it on my playlist at 3:00 a.m.

I'll have to remember it for next time.

 Then he went on to tell me that they painted for a lady who didn't like the color of her room either. FOUR TIMES. He said, "You don't like it, we re-do it. We take a deep breath and repaint." Then he asked me if it would possibly be o.k. to use my microwave to re heat his coffee. By then, I was ready to go buy him new coffee. 

Some days, I want a refund on all the therapy I've had. Some days it really, really pays off.

The best part????

I have nowhere to land in my house, so I went to our Corner Bakery to write this. I read my Jesus Calling devotional first. Here's a stand out sentence:

"Do not condemn yourself for your constant need of help. Instead, come to Me with your gaping neediness; let the Light of My Love fill you."

I'll have to add this to my 3:00 a.m. playlist as well.

New day. New mercies.

Continuation Of This Crazy Little Thing Called Life

My hope is that as you read this that you are safe, dry and warm. So many, many people out of power, under water and under snow on the east coast.... 

I thought it would be fun to make little tiny paintings and encase them in tiny glass slides and solder them together for the next art show.

Which is Saturday, November 3, 10-4!! Click on the link for all the info...

http://www.reddirtartfestival.com

I have this new addition to the house....a fabulous- such -a- deal table that my team mate, Robin found for me. Thank goodness for Iphones. I got a call from her while she was at the JCPenny outlet. That led to her texting me a photo, which led to me calling her back and saying, "Are you positive? $50.00 for that table?????" Now it's living in it's new home here and we have thoroughly bonded this table and I.

 Oh, yes. That can happen.

Tell me furniture does that to you. It makes you giddy and happy, and you know it's just right. It fits right in, does it's share of work and more, looks wonderful and just KNOW it needs to be in your home.

I actually had time to work on the necklaces while Brenna was down with the stomach flu and working on the table was amazing. So much ROOM!!! 

Speaking of Miss B,

she bounced back just in time to go to the Homecoming Dance.

She kills me, this girl. 

So stinking cute in her sparkle skirt and curled hair.

I wish she would let me do this to her hair more, but she is a wash-n-go type of a gal.

We had so much fun getting her ready. I had done her eyebrows-we use a Nair-like product just in between the brows, and I was having so much fun curling her hair, I forgot to take it off and well, it was pretty red. She let me put a little cover up on it, and then she let me put on some blush and THEN...I stopped at just a teeny bit of eyeshadow. Oh. My. Word. 

So, so cute.

We met up for dinner with her class mates and their parents. It was the best time. 

Just a little evening when all was right, when all was a little "typical".

 A group of friends doing the high school scene: 

Dinner out and then the big dance, talking and laughing. Even though it was with the parents... I think we had just as much fun as the kids at dinner, but I know my child was glad I didn't go to the dance.

This photo would have testified to that sentiment if I had taken it three seconds earlier. 

I had asked Brenna to stop before she went into the gym for a photo and let me tell you what, if looks could kill, I would have been slain on the spot.

Luckily, she pulled off a smile for a half a second, I snapped the picture and she wooshed right past me and that's the last we saw of her. She landed in the middle of the dance floor in the sea of bodies jumping with their hands up in the air.

It was a good night.

Friday Ramblings

I think this ramble will be full of questions...

For instance.

Would you like to know how to have a really, really good time and feel like you belong?

Go bowling.

But make sure you go with people like this:

We attended a FUNdraiser for Camp Footprints, the summer camp Brenna attended this year. There is nothing quite like hanging out with these fabulous people-staff and campers alike.  Brenna and I bowled with two young women we had never met before, but felt like we had been friends with them for forever. We cheered each other on for THREE games, gave each other advice on bowling strategies and just generally had a blast.

Have you ever done some updating to your home? 

Have you done the updating while doing three shows? 

Have you done said updating while your child has the stomach flu?

No? It's a real kick in the pants. 

Not.

I will say I'm grateful for the worst of it hitting during the day. Usually it's 

in the middle of the night...why IS that?

 I'm seriously hoping this bypasses the rest of us. I remember when my girls were little, washing my hands in Lysol. I think one night I had to wash my feet as well. Don't ask. It was a bad night.

Our kids, when sick, usually end up in bed with me. I used to think it was better this way so my husband could get some sleep and be able to go to work in the morning,

Ha.

I'm should have changed that program from the beginning.

Unfortunately, this bug hit during Spirit Week at school and Brenna only made it to two of the days to dress up.

Princess Leia

Team Slytherin

Air compressors for nail guns are noisy little buggers, aren't they?

Man, I wanted to try that tool in the worst way as our contractor was putting molding around the kitchen windows.  It makes the best sound (the nail gun, not the compressor) and is so efficient.

How much do you go to Goodwill?

I haven't been for a while, but with trying to find outfits for Spirit Week at school and Halloween, I have been there quite a bit. 

I found these:

They have nothing to do with Spirit Week or Halloween, but they matched what I was wearing much better than my black sandals. And it's fall. (well, it was for three days.)  I need something besides sandals...

Do you ever watch the show, Parenthood? I love it. Kristina announced to her family this week that she had breast cancer and I cried with her whole family. I don't usually cry like that over stuff in movies. Well, except the movie Ramona and Beezus had me boo-hooing like there was no tomorrow. I read all the Beverly Cleary books to my eldest and I love, loved that time in her life. The movie made me so nostalgic, I found myself in the bathroom in the theater crying so hard and listening to everyone say how cute the movie was. Didn't they know it was an end to a beautiful era?

Wow. This ramble is getting too strange.. I'll sign off for now and wish everyone good health and a great weekend!

P.s. don't forget your flu shot!

The Aftermath, Part II

The first show was finished and I found myself with six days until the big, three day show called Art For Heaven's Sake.

Having never participated in a show this big, I completely forgot about how God sees me and all those who love and support me and had myself in a nice knot of neuroses. Which SO weren't helped by getting my bangs trimmed and having them be too short. I texted my blog friend, Amy, a picture of my hair and my woes and she kindly asked if I felt like I was 9 years old again. Boy, did she nail that feeling!!!!!! She talked me off of that ledge and I went back to get them "fixed." Why does this never, ever, ever happen until a big to-do??? Good thing they grow fast.

Nevertheless, I kept gathering and painting, gathering and painting.

(and pulling on my bangs)

The big day came to load up my art and neuroses, set up and start the the show.

My stupendous support team showed up, shored up my rattled brain and I began to have a good time.

My sweet friend, Robin. She and her husband came in the cold to help set up, she sat in the sun with me all day Saturday and they came in the heat to help me tear down.

Little paintings on old books tied up with vintage seam binding that was sent by my friend, Linda.

(sold),

to my new friend, Janie.

The committee that put on the art show was amazing! The music was fun and festive, there were demonstrations, and over 60 artists participated. 

It began with on a chilly Friday evening, full of music, hors d'oeuvres, and twinkle lights. 

Set up and ready to go, I got a question that had me quickly rearranging my booth. "Are we allowed in here?" 

oops.

This table was moved to the side, "allowing" more traffic into the booth.

I was in the garden section, which was quite fun. Except when the sun decided to come out and play for the weekend and heated us up over 90 degrees.

BUT.

It was waaay better than rain all weekend.

(Sold.)

 It was hard to see it go!!

I got the best surprises this weekend. My Brave Girl Sister, Julie came from San Diego to visit. What a treat. Nothing like seeing a fellow Brave Girl and being able to wrap your arms around her for a great big hug. Isn't she amazing?

On Sunday, I  had a visit with a special friend, Jean Kimm. Jean was my eldest daughter's kindergarten teacher and she is a much loved person She has bravely battled Scleroderma since 2002 and never ceases to encourage or amaze me.

I love using these old suitcases...they are good for transporting, storage and showing.

(still available.)

My sister stopped by and when I told her what a roller coaster of emotions the last three days had been, she recounted the story of Sally Fields winning her oscar. Sally, holding the award said, "you like me, you like me!!" It's fairly similar. I like my creations. The thought that someone else might as well is one that brings out excitement, nerves, serious doubts and neuroses, and a general feeling of anxiety. When someone does validate my creations, and they really connect with them, I am beyond happy. I am content. It's a sketchy line of creating because that's what I'm meant to do and creating with the intention that others will like it. An ongoing battle, to be sure.

I love this:

an impromptu Tai-Chi lesson in the sunshine.

One of my new artist friends, Rebecca. What a doll! Stop by her blog for her story on getting to the art show. It's a doozy.

(sold)

Here is to doing what we know we are meant to do. To stretching our wings and safe landings, not feeling like our 9 year old self, and being brave and accepting help. To being vulnerable and loved. To new days and new Mercies.