Queen for a day!

It seems the older we become, the less we care about our birthday. There comes a point in one's life when adding another year begins to 'matter' and we would rather not bring attention to it!

The truth is, one's birthday is the one day out of the year when one can truly be 'queen (or king) for a day'. It's the one day when I feel no guilt for not planning or cooking dinner nor for allowing others to do for me what I usually do for them.

When a few of us girls decided to have a let's-celebrate-Jonny's-birthday-by-taking-her-out-dinner, I quickly assembled this birthday crown which she proudly (or generously ?!) wore all evening long.

Happy Birthday, Jonny!

Birthday book for Deb

Lately I've been in the crafting mood and spend many an evening in my craft corner putting together a new
creation.


My most recent project was constructing a book to give my sister, Debbie, for her birthday.

What I love about these books is that I can tweak them to fit a personality.

People ask me where I find the materials and ephemera for these projects.

First of all, ephemera is:' paper items (as posters, broadsides, and tickets) that were originally meant to be discarded after use but have since become collectibles'. It is pronounced e-fem-ora.

Crafts stores like Joanne's Fabrics and Michaels are a good start for basic paper and stickers. Independent paper/scrapping stores have more original items. I use the internet to order individual collage sheets and use my naked, human eyeball to find images in magazines & newspapers.

I love serendipity and get very happy when I discover a 'find' at Goodwill or at a garage sale. Those are the best!

Quotes are everywhere as is the written word.

Put it all together and you get an original creation!

Pass the razor, please

Not wanting my dentist distracted by rogue hairs, I am preparing for this morning's root canal procedure by plucking hairs from areas on my face in which they have no business sprouting.

Men get off too easy! Heavy brows? Not an issue. Five o'clock stubble? Sexy. Chest hair? Furry bikini line? Normal.

Adding insult to injury, shaving or plucking my unwelcomed fuzz only exacerbates its existence. How many women heeded mother's admonition, "don't shave above the knees!" Those of us who thought we knew better than mom now wonder who will mow the field when we are one day incapacitated in a nursing home. I can only hope that my senility dampens my awareness of the crop growing on my upper lip, my chin and my bikini line.

When I neared my 40th birthday, I was alarmed by dark hairs sprouting from beneath my chin. On a routine visit to my naturopath I pointed out my newest malady. She quickly responded with an uninterested flip of her wrist saying, "We American women are too uptight about body hair. The women in Europe do not shave and it is a non-issue."

As she continued her mini lecture on the subject of body hair, I remembered a little Sunday church meeting I attended in Scotland years ago. It was held in a very small home, so small in fact that I sat nearly knee-to knee facing a Scottish woman in her early 40's. We smiled tentatively at each other as we first sat down. And, as I modestly pulled my skirt over my knees I froze in horror. For this non-shaven, European woman had 1/2" long dark hairs plastered against her skin by the pressure of her panty hose. These hairs made her legs appear to be filled with hundreds of black spider veins. My eyes had a will of their own and would continually sneak quick peeks at the unpleasant sight. I was 20 years old at the time and vowed that I would remain ever vigilant in the shaving department.

Nearly 30 years have passed since that Sunday morning in Scotland and I remain vigilant.

Pass the razor, please.

Attitude is everything

Someone emailed me this. I would love to give credit to the author but he/she is unknown....

'There once was a woman who woke up one morning, looked in the mirror, and noticed she had only three hairs on her head. "Well", she said. "I think I'll braid my hair today." So she did and had a wonderful day.

The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and saw that she had only two hairs on her head.
"H-M-M-M", she said. "I think I'll part my hair down the middle today." So she did and had a grand day.

The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and noticed she had only one hair on her head. "Well", she said. "Today I'm going to wear my hair in a pony tail." So she did and had a fun, fun day.

The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and noticed that there wasn't a single hair on her head.
"Yay!", she exclaimed. "I don't have to fix my hair today!"'

Attitude is everything.
It isn't about waiting for the storm to pass.... it's about learning to dance in the rain.

Old friends

Amongst my many friends, I have one in particular, a dear one, who I've known for 30 years. Kathleen and I were roommates 'back in the day' when we were both single, unencumbered & had our whole lives ahead of us.

What sets Kathleen apart from my other friends is that she still sees the girl in me. She remembers who I was before I became layered with the responsibilities that come with being a wife and mother, a daughter, sister, friend, business owner, etc. Kathleen celebrates the me that even I forget existed; the me that often gets lost in responsibilities.

When we finally arrange to spend a day together we laugh, reminisce, cry, apply balm to each others hurts, and attempt to make the world right. By the end of our day together my jaw hurts and my head pounds but I'm on a high because, once again, she has helped me to celebrate who I am.

And it's all good....

Wild Geese

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting--
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

mary oliver