Hobbies and the Havoc they wreak

In 2003, I was in the process of working toward opening our new real estate office. My boss asked me to take on the unofficial title of “Company Historian”. She requested a scrapbook of our first year in business. I thought to myself, “No Problemo”, I can snap a few pictures, stick them in a photo album, add a few stickers, and PRESTO ~ company scrapbook. Boy ~ how wrong I was!

About a month after our new office opened, I went to a “Scrapbooking party”. I discovered that creating scrapbooks involved a lot more than pictures and a few stickers. After dropping a chunk of money, I went home with a bagful of supplies and lots of ideas. However, beginning this task was more than overwhelming. In fact, I was so overwhelmed that I put the bag of supplies in a closet. I would tackle that beast later.

About 2 months later, I forced myself to open the bag and start working on my project. I sat at my kitchen table and embarked on an adventure that turned into a hobby that has become my passion!

The next day, I found myself wandering the aisles at my local arts and craft store. I swear I could hear all the supplies calling to me…”Hey! Over here! Pick me!!!!!" I broke out in a cold sweat; there was so much to choose from! Again, more money was spent, but this time, I couldn’t wait to get home to take my treasures out of the bag! I chuckled to myself – “I can’t believe that I waited so long to discover how wonderful this hobby is”.

The next day, I spent my entire lunch hour in search of scrapbooking websites on the internet. I couldn’t believe there were so many; I was also amazed by how many people enjoyed this hobby! By the end of the week, I discovered that 7 ladies from my office also “scrapped”. Now, I had a new hobby AND friends to share it with! Things just keep getting better! Woo Hoo!

Within a month, I had transformed my dining room to a scrap room, and forgot what my darling husband looked like. For Christmas, I had to put all my scrapbooking supplies in the guest bedroom. It took me over an hour to move everything. I hated to leave my supplies ~ I gazed longingly at them as I closed the door. After the holidays, my husband made room for my scrapbooking supplies in his office. He also reminded me that when we moved into the house I forbid using the Dining Room for anything other than dining…” Did I really say that?”

The day after moving my supplies to my husband’s office, I discovered that there wasn’t enough room for both my husband’s hobby and mine; my supplies overflowed onto his desk. I couldn’t have been happier at that moment. However, things took a nasty turn when my husband got home from work… he found patterned papers on his chair, brads on the floor, and ribbons, stickers and rub-ons all over his desk, and me in the middle of this mess holding up my newly created “masterpiece”. Beaming from ear to ear, I proudly held up a 12 x 12 layout and said, “Honey, look what I made this evening”. He looked around what used to be a relatively neat and tidy office and said, “that’s not all you made this evening”. But my husband is patient and I’m lucky! So we tried to live in hobby harmony...that didn't go so well...

Within 6 months, my husband and I decided to move our “office/hobby room” to the 2 car garage. This time it took me a week to move all my supplies. Again, it was not pretty. My husband and I negotiated which side of the garage we would have – he ended up sharing HIS side of the garage with the Harley and his power tools. I got the spare fridge!

Within 2 months time, I had re-arranged my side of the garage twice. My dear husband has started therapy. Things don’t look good.

Swimsuit Shopping for the Mature Woman

In preparation for an upcoming trip to North Carolina's Outer Banks I went in search of a swimsuit. My search criteria is as follows: Cheap and relatively well fitting. That's not a lot to ask for, or at least I thought!

Since I was looking for "cheap" (price-wise, mind you), I took a look at the suits on the rack at my local Wal-Mart (local to me = 27 miles - 1 way). I was pleased to see a variety of styles, colors and sizes.

While I was looking, the sales clerk informed me that the swimwear on the racks were all that they had in stock. Armed with that knowledge, I started my search. I was tickled to find a very attractive one piece suit in my size - choice #1 in the cart. I then noticed the 2 piece separates - some of these had itty bitty string tops (yeah right!) and then I saw some tops with fabric that draped over the middle and ended around the bikini line (must have been designed my a REAL woman!). I found a few of those that I liked - some in my size, some that looked like they might fit. Then I went looking for the bottoms...I found tons of them; and they were teeny!

Now I might add that in my younger days I was all about a bikini ~ the skimpier the better...however, today that sadly isn't the case. I saw some that were "boy shorts". These looked like they had promise because they had ample material covering the posterior (a real must for me!). I found a few that I thought were my size. Just for fun (???) I found a few pair of bikini bottoms to match the tops already waiting in the cart.

The fun was about to start.

I parked my cart outside of the fitting room and started trying on my prospective purchases. I started with the one piece suit. Well, it fit, and it was inexpensive - which satisfied my search criteria. But something was wrong.....it showed every bulge in my body. I know that every woman has a shape...mine is lumpy!

Okay - on to the 2 piece suits. Okay - the boy shorts were extremely low rise - they were wrong for me on so many levels. I tried on one bottom with the little sassy skirt over the brief. Again, just not me (and looking at the abundance of this garment on the rack, just not anyone else, either). I tried on the bikini bottom and OMG it actually fit, not well, but they fit.

The tops were next. I quickly eliminated the bikini top - I actually laughed out loud at that one! Then I tried the last 2. I'm at the point in my life where I need support and comfort ~ if it's pretty, I get a bonus. Well, 1 top had no support, and boy did it show! Adjusting the straps simply forced "the girls" out the sides and under the wire. Finally, I found one that worked. (I swear, I could have heard a choir of angels singing) It gave me support, it was comfortable, it was pretty, and it was cheap! Hallelujah!

Now I found myself in a quandary - do I get the one piece suit, or the 2 piece? I thought about it for a few minutes and then came up with the answer - buy 'em both! But before I left the swimwear department I chose the last item that I need for my escapade to the beach...a cover-up!

I live free because of them

Today is Memorial Day. To some, it's simply a day off from work. To others it's a day for splashing around at the beach and cook-outs. But to all, it's a time for us to remember those brave men and women who made the ultimate sacrifice to ensure our freedom. I can't imagine what it's like to live in a country without the freedoms that we have. Think about it ~ we can live where we want, travel where we want, worship where and how we want; the list goes on and on.

But the brave members of our armed services aren't the only people making sacrifices. There are husbands, wives, parents, and children on the homefront who miss their loved ones every day. Those families truly understand the meaning of "Memorial Day".

Soldiers and their familes are in my thoughts today; I hope these families can be reunited soon. I yearn for peace times again.

The Torch has been passed

First there was Abby, a mixed breed dog with blonde/red fur. I fell in love with her, then I met her owner! I've always been a cat lover; I still am. However, Abby was able to bridge the gap between dog lover and cat lover and slowly convert me to a quasi-dog lover! She even got along with my 3 cats! When we said our final goodbyes to her, Abby was around 11 years old. I have never felt such an emptiness for an animal before. I guess when she left us, Abby took a piece of my heart with her. Even the cats seemed to mourn her passing. We knew that even if we got another dog, Abby's personality would never be repeated.

I figured that it would be a year or more before we would think about bringing home another dog. My husband surprised me 3 months later by anouncing that it was time to find a puppy. He had our local paper in his hand, opened to the classified ads. He sat down with the phone and started making a few calls. Later that day, he told me we had an appointment to look at some puppies.

When we arrived, the lady brought one of the pups out for us to look at. He showed no interest in us and quickly wandered off to explore the field next door. While my husband talked to the lady, I went over to the pen to look at the other puppies. I think all puppies are born with the ability to woo you with their eyes. I noticed one pup sitting alone, just inside the gate. She looked so sad, almost defeated. I asked to look at that one. When the lady put her in my arms I felt her tail wag as she licked my face. "This is our puppy" I thought to myself. I calmly walked over to my husband who was, by that time, looking at the other puppies. I put this little bundle in his arms and whispered, "Here's your puppy". I went and sat in the car; I wanted my husband to make the final decision. He came out about 10 minutes later, puppy included.

I think I chose about a dozen names before we agreed on one. I looked at baby naming websites, and even Indian and Latin language sites for translations to names like Companion, and Friend. I came up with lots of names, but nothing that suited our little bundle. I decided that we needed to give her a name that would mean something to both my husband and me.

It finally came to me while I was watching TV. I saw a film clip from one of my favorite "chick" movies. I almost cried ~ I had found the name and it was perfect! We named her "Shelby", which is the name of Julia Robert's character in Steel Magnolias. The name is also one of the body styles of the Ford Mustang. Now, when we tell people her name, the girls say "Steel Magnolias" and the guys say "Mustang"!

During the first few months, we tried to find similarities in Shelby's personality and Abby's. But Shelby has managed to develop her own personality ~ one that will never be repeated.

The torch has been passed.

Things we take for granted

My husband and I left the city life for country living about 2 years ago. It was easy to trade the sounds of cars roaring past the house with loud blaring music, horns beeping and sirens for the sounds of crickets, bullfrogs and roosters.



But there are a number of things that I have had to adjust to:

• I used to love having my car washed and waxed to a gleaming shine. We now live on a dirt and gravel road ~ no more car washes!


• Our newspaper and mail boxes are almost a mile away on the paved road. So if I'm not going anywhere - I'm still driving to the mail box - and even further out to the main post office if I have packages to pick up.


• The closest grocery store is a 20 minute drive, one way. I have learned that running out of anything means about 1 hour out of my day.

There is one thing that I truly can say I miss about the city ~ ice cream! In the summer we enjoy ice cream; everything from plain vanilla with chocolate sauce and nuts, to popcicles, and even the occasional nutty buddy. When we lived in the city, we took ice cream for granted. Now if we want ice cream, we have 3 choices: go to an ice cream parlor, take our chances on ice cream surviving a 20 minute ride home, or buy an ice cream maker and make our own.

So what did we do? We got an ice cream maker! It's not one of those old hand crank devices from the dark ages; it churns on its own. Once I read through the recipe booklet, I went to the store, bought my ingredients and I was well on my way to ice cream heaven!

Okay, I'll admit it. Buying ice cream from the freezer case is much more convient. Although I get a lot of satisfaction knowing that I made the ice cream that we now enjoy, I'll never take ice cream for granted again.

Mr. Mojo and his Fickle Ways

There is a strange phenomenon that attacks me from time to time. It's a condition that I call "Nomojoitis". This is a condition that appears at the exact moment that I find a full afternoon that I can devote to scrapping. Once I sit down, I draw a blank - no creativity, no inspiration, nothing, nada, zip, zilch.

It's not that I don't have anything to scrap; I've got oodles of photos, memoraphilia, paper and embellishments. Maybe I'm just overwhelmed with the sheer volume of what I have to work with.

I know other scrappers suffer from this same condition ~ and just like how to stop hiccups, there are lots of "cures" for a loss of mojo. Some people search online galleries, others browse through magazines and books, and yet other folks "play" with their stash until inspiration hits.

Sometimes inspiration shows up at the most inopportune moments ~ while I'm grocery shopping, driving in the car, cooking dinner, or visiting with friends or family. Of course, once I get back to my scrap table, I will have forgotten what I thought I was going to work on. "Mr. Mojo" has given me the slip once more!

But on occasion, the planets align, there is perfect harmony in my home and the scrapping Gods smile on me. These are the times that I love this hobby and continue to scrap down my piles of photos despite "Mr. Mojo" and his fickle ways.

The Test of time

I recently took a trip to my local second hand shop. While perusing the shelves chock full of brass candlesticks, tarnished silver tea services and other discarded bric-a-brac, I saw it. It was a pretty picture frame, lovingly embellished with ribbon, jewels and flowers. I looked at it like someone would look at a puppy at the pound. Someone once loved it, but now it's here, hoping that someone will take it home and love it again.

Okay ~ stop with the sad violin music!

Now I understand that once a gift is given, it becomes the sole property of the recipient to do with as they see fit. I also understand that from time to time we all have to discard some of our little "treasures", or our houses would burst at the seams.

On my way home, I thought about the many handmade gifts that I have given. How many things that I spent time creating for others have had the same fate? Will the gifts I make stand up to the test of time?

One thing that I have never found at a yard sale, second hand shop, or trash pile is a completed scrapbook. As a matter of fact, I find that most people who have been given scrapbooks usually display them on a coffee table, or have them close by to show off or enjoy looking through from time to time.

Now that doesn't mean that the only gift I will ever give will be a scrapbook. But I will think twice about the gifts that I make.

Welcome to my world!

It seems that everyone has a blog these days. Some are very extravagant, while others serve as a "diary" of sorts. While I have been known to act impulsively (you should see me when I shop!), when it came to creating a blog, I spent a considerable amount of time thinking about it. After looking at numerous blogs, I seemed to be more overwhelmed than ever! But then I thought, "if this many people can create a blog, I can too!"

So, finally, after much thought, I have created my blog (Ta Taa....).

As an avid scrapbooker, most of my "Random Ramblings" will involve this hobby (aka passion, aka obsession!).

So grab a virtual easy chair and a cup of virtual refreshing beverage, sit a spell and visit!