tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-62594658738719939742024-03-13T10:33:17.629-06:00evetsandassilemevetsandassilemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11160162688654347299noreply@blogger.comBlogger117125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259465873871993974.post-60884969235176962182013-05-29T00:27:00.000-06:002013-05-29T00:40:59.047-06:00Live All the Days of Your Absent Minded LifeI realize my hiatus from the blogging world has been ghastly. I suppose I have just been overwhelmed with how many things have changed in my life to really nail down my thoughts on things. The last two years have brought a lot of change to my life. It has not been easy, but I feel the process has brought me closer to figuring out who I want to be and what I want to make of my life. I am hoping to be able to share with you some of what the experiences and how they have come to change me. I am sure as I write about them they will become more clear to me as well.<br />
<br />
Over the next few months I would like to share with you TEN experiences that have taught me the most in the last few years. My hope is that as I share with you the things that have shaped my life, you can find something that will help change the way you see the world.<br />
<br />
ONE<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ztxHGVW36_w/UaWi5Dm3u7I/AAAAAAAAA5k/t18kxApePLk/s1600/Us+letterpress.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ztxHGVW36_w/UaWi5Dm3u7I/AAAAAAAAA5k/t18kxApePLk/s400/Us+letterpress.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div>
Letterpress 101<br />
<br />
Two summers ago (has it really been that long?) I took a letterpress class with my Dad and one of my closest friends Mandy. It was a fantastic experience. When I say fantastic, I must warn you. It has been quite some time since the class actually happened so all of the trauma and chaos has had time to dilute. You know when something really terrible or difficult happens to you and at the time it seems incredibly painful but then after you have had time to adjust to the trauma you can then iron out all the wrinkles in the story and learn from it? Maybe even forget that it was actually hard in the first place? Well I imagine since it has taken me two years to write about this that maybe some of the initial trauma has been lost in it's retelling.<br />
<br />
Alas, I will try to write about it anyway. My Dad and I are extremely close. We always have been. This did not, however, alter the fact that it is sort of weird taking a class with a parent. I wonder how many people have done that in their lives? It was a really eye opening experience for both of us and I think we both learned a lot about each other. If nothing else it was fun to spend that time with him.<br />
<br />
Something that made the class a notch above the normal stress of an art class was the fact that I was living in Logan at the time. Did I mention that the class was in Salt Lake, once a week on wednesday nights? Yes. I had to make the hour and a half drive every Wednesday to the class and sometimes a couple of times a week to work on our current projects. Not to mention the drive home afterwards. In the end I think we were all surprised to have survived the class, but I enjoyed what the experience taught me and the rare experience I was able to share with my Dad.<br />
<br />
I know that you are all dying to hear a gripping retelling of three hour lectures about letterpress and typefaces, maybe some old books and the history of typography, oh and the art of fine paper snobbery... Why don't I save you the agony of a retelling.<br />
<br />
Instead I have come up with 5 tips on how to survive a letterpress class.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
1. Always, and I mean always make sure that you have a beverage in hand. Diet Dr Pepper or Diet Coke will do the trick. Having something to quench your thirst is the only way you will survive four hour (mostly lecture) art classes.<br />
<br />
2. Keep in the back of your mind the reasons why you enrolled in the class. Why? You will question this.. many times. Just keep in mind the benefits that you envisioned before entering the classroom.<br />
<br />
3. Take deep breaths. You will need to be calm and practice extreme and impossible Godlike patience when your Father (or significant other/friend/acquaintance?) whom you have always held in the superior slot, is driving you crazy because he/she is insecure about their artistic abilities. (I am sure my Dad had a similar rule in mind about his irritating bossy daughter).<br />
<br />
4. Bring food. Starving while trying to be artistic is the best way to kill anybody's creativity.<br />
<br />
5. Forget all the rules you make because they probably wont apply tomorrow.<br />
<br />
Surprising how fast time gets away from us. I didn't know then that I would be separated from my family (and my pal and soon to be business partner) by 1500 miles. It is great to have those cherished, albeit frustrating/intense/emotional memories with my Dad. I miss him more than I could have ever imagined.<br />
<br />
The last project for the class was a folded piece. Looking back I have to laugh at all the crazy stress that went into trying to pull this project off. I thought I would share some of the results from our class. I am sure as my Dad is reading this all sorts of chilling memories are crawling up his spine.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KJoC7e-UoHU/UaWbSFpobFI/AAAAAAAAA5U/JxVKpqEzKzo/s1600/Letterpress+projects.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="302" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KJoC7e-UoHU/UaWbSFpobFI/AAAAAAAAA5U/JxVKpqEzKzo/s400/Letterpress+projects.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<i>Diagnosis: Absent Minded </i>- Created by Me, Melissa<br />
<br />
The card game to determine what level of absent minded you are. My family seems to be in the 7-10 scoring range. Some of the cards include: "Can't find any of the ten keys you made yesterday," "Can't count the number of times you've returned to your house before leaving," and so on and so on. We had a good laugh coming up with these (especially since all of them are examples from our own absent minded tales). The pattern I used on the back of my cards was from a woodcut print I carved. I thought it would be fun to add in some printmaking love.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rxhUhjSOvBE/UaWa7kfh30I/AAAAAAAAA5E/kpGI1qjvyIM/s1600/D.A.M.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="338" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rxhUhjSOvBE/UaWa7kfh30I/AAAAAAAAA5E/kpGI1qjvyIM/s400/D.A.M.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rIQ3I5o5A0k/UaWXLRkJNeI/AAAAAAAAA4k/aVzf7hq_xEA/s1600/Letterpress+D.A.M.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="175" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rIQ3I5o5A0k/UaWXLRkJNeI/AAAAAAAAA4k/aVzf7hq_xEA/s400/Letterpress+D.A.M.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<i>Live All the Days of Your Life</i> - Created By Brian Romriell<br />
My Dad has a Love/Obsession with numbers. His project has a clever take on the numbered life span. I love the layout he came up with for the project. The way it folds is really spectacular. The numbers show how many days old you are at certain ages. I love the inscription on the back of his book. Take a look!<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-upiZkb4qihg/UaWXTrXRbiI/AAAAAAAAA4s/qbrdUrYvM3k/s1600/Live+all+the+days+of+your+life+-+Dad+letterpress.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-upiZkb4qihg/UaWXTrXRbiI/AAAAAAAAA4s/qbrdUrYvM3k/s400/Live+all+the+days+of+your+life+-+Dad+letterpress.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XKnXTcNMXZc/UaWaMC7WwkI/AAAAAAAAA48/I_H_DMwrdsA/s1600/Back+of+Dad's+Book.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XKnXTcNMXZc/UaWaMC7WwkI/AAAAAAAAA48/I_H_DMwrdsA/s400/Back+of+Dad's+Book.jpg" width="382" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"Printed on the cusp of his 20,000th day"</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I am so grateful for such and incredible role model. Who is ever lucky enough to be able to have an experience like this? </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<br /></div>
evetsandassilemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11160162688654347299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259465873871993974.post-69717100720182947362012-06-26T20:44:00.000-06:002012-06-26T20:45:29.498-06:00That one time I shut my finger in the car door.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dnhD92XV2iQ/T-pIwoQCPkI/AAAAAAAAA3Y/7UcCRGi3Lbo/s1600/finger.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="175" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dnhD92XV2iQ/T-pIwoQCPkI/AAAAAAAAA3Y/7UcCRGi3Lbo/s400/finger.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
There are a few things I need to preface before sharing this story.<br />
<br />
One: I have inherited clumsy genes. Most of the time it's just simple bumps, scrapes and yelps of desperation and pain that Steve has now learned to ignore.<br />
<br />
Two: I have only had stitches 3 times in my life previous to this event. The first time I was 2-ish. I was chilling at home with my Dad taking a sick day from church. (my father is the person I have so delightfully inherited my clumsiness from) I, being the already destined clutz, stood up in my high chair fell out and bashed my forehead on the sharp edge of the counter. My poor queasy father braved the storm and rushed me to the hospital. There was some sort of fruit pie involved. I cannot confirm the whereabouts or involvement of said pie in relation to the accident, but it is always mentioned in the stories telling so I imagine it played some sort of role. You can imagine the terror witnessed by my family on their return home. The other two times were for my wisdom teeth and an unfortunate ingrown toenail back in my point shoe ballet days. Those two don't really count in my opinion, not to mention the stories are quite dull. Now that I think about it my father accompanied me to all three of these events... interesting...<br />
<br />
<br />
<h3>
<span style="color: #bf9000;">PART ONE: THE INCIDENT</span></h3>
<br />
The day had been a fine one... lovely but quite boring. I had slept in late and just enjoyed a saturday full of TV shows and lounging. Like I said lovely. Steve had been at work 9-4. He had plans to go "jam" with a bunch of guys from work and an old friend for a couple of hours that night. When he got home from work we ran to grab some food before he went. We jovially hopped out of the car, ready to stuff our faces. Not a care in the world... this is when lovely and boring turned bloody and tragic. It took me a minute to realize that my finger was stuck in the door. It was comparable to one of those moments in the movies where everything surrounding you begins to move in slow motion. I came out of my momentary shock/coma and started screaming. My finger was shut and LOCKED in the car door.<br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: white;">In the time it took Steve to run around the car and unlock the door I somehow had the time to think the following...</span><br />
<br />
what if my finger isn't attached when the door opens?<br />
why is Steve not getting around the car faster?<br />
how on earth did this happen?<br />
ow...<br />
ow.....<br />
ooowwwww.....<br />
oh my gosh my finger is shut in the car door.<br />
I'm going to need stitches...<br />
I do not want stitches...<br />
I wonder if I can get out of going to the hospital.<br />
I hope that my finger is still there.<br />
ow .....<br />
oww.....<br />
owwww....<br />
<br />
Those are just a few that I can remember.<br />
<br />
As the door opened the blood started flowing and the pain got worse. I crouched in the parking lot and let the blood drip. drip. drip. accumulating on the asphalt. Steve ran in to the restaurant and got napkins. Meanwhile a bunch of people were standing behind me... staring I think... I didn't dare turn around and see.. I was crying pretty bad at this point. We jumped back in the car. As I put pressure on my finger and Steve drove us to the hospital (less then a mile away). I had time to yell while spouts of tears flew down my cheeks....<br />
<br />
What if my finger falls off?<br />
What if I just have a stub for a finger?<br />
It hurts so bad.<br />
Don't get in a wreck I am not wearing a seatbelt!<br />
What if I'm pushing too hard and my finger falls off?<br />
It's bleeding so bad!<br />
I'm ruining your band again!! (a joke made by a mission companion saying I was going to ruin their dreams of a band. This companion was the kid coming up to "jam" that night..)<br />
I don't want to get stitches!<br />
I really don't want to get stitches!!<br />
I am such a baby.<br />
owie owie owie!<br />
I can't believe I'm crying so hard. followed by giggles<br />
I'm scared...<br />
Steve don't tail that mini van you are going to crash and kill us.<br />
<br />
(Steve was so calm during this all. I am pretty sure he was doing his best to hold in fits of laughter...)<br />
<br />
<h3>
<span style="color: #bf9000;">PART TWO: THE SO CALLED EMERGENCY ROOM</span></h3>
<br />
We got into the emergency room and I was shocked to find everything so calm. ERs are always so crazy and hectic. I have probably been watching too many medical shows. I guess I had anticipated people running to my rescue. No such rescue. We had to wait in line. Seriously? I was furious. We had to sit for half an hour behind a bunch of people with babies. They weren't even crying. What kind of emergency could they possibly be in? After the long ridiculous wait we finally were up. The lady that was helping us could not keep it together. She asked me for my birthday a billion times. Then couldn't find my info. Finally she found me and said, "oh i guess I got your birthday wrong, woops." I thought some pretty unkind things in my head... I don't feel bad. This lady was stupid. After all that she so kindly and apologetically informed us that we would have to wait for another 20 minutes. I am pretty sure she could see the annoyance and frustration on our faces. Yup. So we sat in the waiting area and I let the tears stream down my face.<br />
<br />
When they finally got to me a doctor came in and looking surprised said he would have someone else come check it too. I guess it was surprising or something? The next doc came in and decided it was a good idea to x-ray it. I was pretty sure that it was broken. It hurt like mad. We got back to our room and waited for the doctor. As the third doctor came in he so kindly pointed out that I must have been in pain because it looked like I had been crying... No duh. Thank you for pointing out that you have noticed the mascara running down my face. Where are your people skills and common sense. I just shut my finger in the door causing it to break and split open of course I cried you fool. Thanks for reminding me of how good I look in the mean time.<br />
<br />
They had to stick needles at the base of my finger to numb it. It was not pleasant. It felt like they were trying to stick the needle all the way through my finger. It did not feel very nice. My finger got all gross and swollen. However, Steve and I enjoyed watching them stitch my finger up. It was very gross. I will spare you the photos of my finger after they numbed it up.. It got pretty real there for a minute. The doctor explained that what we were seeing was "subconatneos fat," squeezing out of the wound.... ew. Finally it was finished. They put my finger in a splint. And told me I would have to see a specialist in a week and I could get the stitches out in 10 days....<br />
<br />
Seven stitches and a fractured finger. yay.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<h3>
<span style="color: #bf9000;">PART THREE: THE SPECIALIST</span></h3>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
A week after the catastrophe I had to go see a plastic surgeon about my finger to make sure that it was healing properly. It was a very... interesting visit. The doctor first admired my wedding ring.... and then at the end of the visit asked how much he could buy it from me for because his wife would really like it. I laughed thinking it was a joke, he didn't understand. I think he was serious.. Creepy. Anyway so he put my finger in a bent splint and told me to come back in a month. He wanted to make sure that my tendon hadn't been severed or I would need surgery to fix it. He made my try and bend it. It felt like all of the stitches were going to pop out. It did not feel good. It was terribly painful actually. Luckily I did not need surgery and my finger has healed pretty well. I have a nice little scar but all in all it seems pretty good. They were surprised at how well it has healed. I guess I am lucky. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
There you have it, the story of how I shut my finger in the car door and survived.<br />
<br />
See for yourself.<br />
<br />
I guess I should be grateful, the doctor who stitched me up did a pretty good job. You can barely see the scar.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XLKFHit-lME/T-pU3vD6_oI/AAAAAAAAA3o/zRqhfb-VD-Y/s1600/Before+and+after+stitches.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="263" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XLKFHit-lME/T-pU3vD6_oI/AAAAAAAAA3o/zRqhfb-VD-Y/s400/Before+and+after+stitches.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />evetsandassilemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11160162688654347299noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259465873871993974.post-53279363170658345252012-05-31T21:58:00.000-06:002012-06-01T22:06:17.208-06:00Goodbye Utah, (BIG BANG) Hello Washington DCOk ok I am the worst blogger in the world. But since Steve and I are now far away from family I promised my mother and grandmother that I would post more.. I suppose I should catch up on a few things. Ill keep it short.<br />
<br />
1. We have moved to Washington DC for the summer<br />
2. Steve will be working for the National Endowment for the Humanities. (Seriously cool)<br />
<br />
Like I said short. I kid.<br />
<br />
I will tell you more, but before I move on to sharing our adventures I will talk a little about or Farewell to Utah. It was not easy. We packed up all of our things and stowed them away in my parents garage (thanks again family) for the summer. We said goodbye to Logan, which was admittedly harder then expected. It has been my home for the past... 6 years. I can't believe how long that is now that I am saying it out loud.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-g33tOJUB3ZE/T8g11SGK3_I/AAAAAAAAA18/kS26NPuoj4E/s1600/IMAG0097-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-g33tOJUB3ZE/T8g11SGK3_I/AAAAAAAAA18/kS26NPuoj4E/s320/IMAG0097-1.jpg" width="204" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Outside of our Apt the last time we were there. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6rhk25iOCsw/T8g2wDDb3qI/AAAAAAAAA2M/U0Z0LUMvULc/s1600/IMAG0099.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6rhk25iOCsw/T8g2wDDb3qI/AAAAAAAAA2M/U0Z0LUMvULc/s320/IMAG0099.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Our apartment that we lived in for two and a half years. We loved it here! </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></div>
It took us FORever to clean out our apt. It was actually quite frightening all the dust and dirtiness... I don't know how people move all the time. It is the worst. Seriously. We spent the last week of our time in Utah going back and forth, back and forth from Logan to Sandy/Draper trying to get everything packed and ready for us to leave.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2G3iCVbPOGo/T8g2psevPtI/AAAAAAAAA2E/A7mTVv91Apo/s1600/IMAG0074.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2G3iCVbPOGo/T8g2psevPtI/AAAAAAAAA2E/A7mTVv91Apo/s320/IMAG0074.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> <span style="text-align: center;">The cloudy rainy scary drive one day</span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--kDN-DwegIU/T8g3XVRLU5I/AAAAAAAAA2U/C42SW_XxMuM/s1600/IMAG0130.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--kDN-DwegIU/T8g3XVRLU5I/AAAAAAAAA2U/C42SW_XxMuM/s320/IMAG0130.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">The nice pretty drive (also with random filter, I got a new phone and it has some pretty cool camera settings)</span></div>
<br />
<br />
We probably averaged about 4 hours of sleep a night that week. It made from some cranky days (hemm hm Steve) But we survived it. We hopped on a red eye flight to new york and then transferred to another flight to fly to DC. We had a layover in NYC for a couple hours. Tried to sleep, ate some lame airport food and then got on the next flight.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Y0lxZU4mxhw/T8g4IRY2KTI/AAAAAAAAA2c/Idn0oF_2kEk/s1600/IMAG0135.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Y0lxZU4mxhw/T8g4IRY2KTI/AAAAAAAAA2c/Idn0oF_2kEk/s320/IMAG0135.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">I look terribly sleepy. My eyes are so squinty, yet as excited as they come. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
After the whole thing we were extremely exhausted. It got pretty bad. I conked out on our last flight and don't remember anything. I am pretty sure the flight attendant guy pitied me or something... He nodded and called me sweetheart on the way out underneath a clear giggle. I saw right through that mustached smile...<br />
<br />
So we arrived in DC. Now for the interesting part. We each had three suitcases, two of which were pretty handsome in size and weight. We had tried to prepare for carrying these before hand, luckily my Dad knew how stressed I was for this part. He went and bought us some handy straps to connect our luggage to make it easier to carry. Well, we had to catch a bus that would take us to the Metro. After we figured out how to get our suitcases tied together it didn't seem that bad... We got to the metro and it was a whole nother story. Yes nother. We had to cram all of our suitcases through the door and then awkwardly squish onto four different seats... each.. Yes people were glaring. Or so I imagined in my mind. They were probably laughing at us and wondering why on earth we had so much stuff. We looked like idiots. Of course that was not the end of it. We had to make a transfer... We got off and then had to ride an escalator.<br />
<br />
UP. with huge bags..<br />
wait wrong way.<br />
back DOWN.<br />
then UP the other way.<br />
<br />
Meanwhile Steve trips and falls out of his shoe and almost comes careening down the escalator. Good thing I was there to angrily yell at him as he fell into me. Saved his life, and mine really. We got to the right place and waited for the Metro to show up. It gets there.<br />
<br />
CLANK!<br />
<br />
Piece of metal from Steve's luggage handle that I am conveniently in charge of goes shooting slow motion into the air and clinks to the ground. God must have been worried about what I would do to Steve if I got left on that platform alone, because some how I made it on the metro before the bag decided to come apart. phew. It was a close one. We somehow made it to our destination stop. The people we are renting from here in Maryland were nice enough to come pick us up from the stop. It is about a 5 minute drive from their house. Our apartment is pretty cool. Tiny, but safe. More on that later. We are so excited to be here and to go explore together.<br />
<br />
<br />
Stay tuned I have more to share.<br />
<br />
Until then, enjoy this beautiful shot of where we get to wander every day.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ppPUHNK-F3w/T8g6waOrToI/AAAAAAAAA2s/kLy-DlNz70c/s1600/IMAG0141.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ppPUHNK-F3w/T8g6waOrToI/AAAAAAAAA2s/kLy-DlNz70c/s320/IMAG0141.jpg" width="180" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oW20gdseE7s/T8g66BOkWPI/AAAAAAAAA20/9d-u_2gr6lw/s1600/IMAG0142.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oW20gdseE7s/T8g66BOkWPI/AAAAAAAAA20/9d-u_2gr6lw/s320/IMAG0142.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Love and Miss<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />evetsandassilemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11160162688654347299noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259465873871993974.post-46282265855539292232012-01-25T20:45:00.000-07:002012-01-25T20:45:27.816-07:00To Create<br />
What could be in this adorable box?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-r2cJJSpTM4Q/TxkcaC338MI/AAAAAAAAA1s/o3T-9e7Stwk/s1600/box.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="254" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-r2cJJSpTM4Q/TxkcaC338MI/AAAAAAAAA1s/o3T-9e7Stwk/s320/box.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
While you ponder on that. Let me tell you about my current situation. I like to mix it up on this blog. I talk about personal things, crafty things, but all the time real and true things.<br />
<br />
My life has been, well lets just say not the most exciting lately. I ended 2011 in a bit of a slump. I was working at home (aka spending way too much time sleeping and lounging about watching netflix). This is not great for anybody. Especially for those of you who may be like me and hate being alone. I swear it does something to you, being lazy. I was not happy. I have never been one to be long term depressive. Of course we all have our days. I feel like for the most part I am an upbeat person. Headstrong and lets be honest a little bit bossy, non of which are conducive to a sit on your butt all day and feel sorry about your life personality.<br />
<br />
My parents gave me a sketch journal for my birthday. I don't know what it was but something just flicked on in my head. It was almost like one of those moments if you aren't sure if you should be jumping up and down screaming with joy or smacking your head against the wall for not figuring it out sooner.<br />
<br />
With this new excitement still burning inside of me, I made a lot of decisions to change. I have been more active. Hey, those endorphins really do make people pleasant to be around. I have been sketching and creating more and with more purpose. I've been visiting my long lost love, the printmaking lab. I didn't realize how much I had missed it. I even called my mom the other day and told her I wanted to do a cross stitch typograhphic *sampler. I know crazy. I am so grateful for people in my life who support my creative nature.<br />
<br />
I was discussing with a friend about what my life would be like if I had done something else. We were laughing envisioning ourselves doing anything but art. I have to say I can't imagine doing anything else. I wish that everyone could do what they love. The pressures of family and money and well, just life in general often dissuade people from doing what they love to do. For me even if I am only creating for myself and the few who indulge in viewing my art then I feel accomplished for now. Who's to say what the next 10... 20... or 50 years have to hold for me. I hope that I can instill in myself this bit of knowledge to always stay with me, so even when I find myself at a low point I can remember what it feels like to know that what I am doing is right and for me.<br />
<br />
Well I believe I have dragged on for longer than any of you care to read.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P-HHzMPjLoM/TxkdOOl3wxI/AAAAAAAAA10/RCRoMlM2_4A/s1600/purple+beads.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="252" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P-HHzMPjLoM/TxkdOOl3wxI/AAAAAAAAA10/RCRoMlM2_4A/s320/purple+beads.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
PURPLE BEADS.<br />
<br />
I have enjoyed making and painting these beads very much. It is almost relaxing to do the monotonous work of molding and painting. Some might think such a thing is tedious, but I love it. I <a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6259465873871993974#editor/target=post;postID=5559922157512983211">posted a while back</a> about some beads I made in a similar fashion. These were a little simpler so it wasn't as difficult to make a lot of them. I made this latest necklace for my sister in law Liz. I just love how the color turned out.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">*At 12 my Mom made me do a sampler to represent a modern day girl's work on a sampler. It would go in a special exhibit at the church history museum she was in charge of that year. (more details another day?) I HATED it. I can't say whether it was just teenage hormones coming on or a real hatred but I feel I must try it again to know for sure.</span><br />
<div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>evetsandassilemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11160162688654347299noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259465873871993974.post-63932917727442971032012-01-18T21:59:00.002-07:002012-01-18T22:01:26.772-07:00Cheers to cold toes and warm bellies.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I live in Logan. If you know anything about Logan you know that it is known for its bitter and miserable winters. I don't get into winter sports and sledding just scares me* so there isn't a whole lot to do when it hits January for me. This year we have been lucky enough to have our winter postponed a smidgen. But as all good things do, our beautiful fall weather had to come to a dismal end. Stormy, wintery Logan days like today make a warm drink a necessity for survival. And what better way to ingest warm hot chocolate then from one of these? </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5DZGnxy-0iM/TxedRAcSIjI/AAAAAAAAA1c/EvmVefjhcqo/s1600/Winter+Wonderful+Cups.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="337" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5DZGnxy-0iM/TxedRAcSIjI/AAAAAAAAA1c/EvmVefjhcqo/s400/Winter+Wonderful+Cups.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
My friend Mandy and I have been crafting on occasion and we painted these mugs a while back. You can pick some porcelain paint or pens from any craft or art store. They have so many beautiful colors; it was difficult to choose. Pens might have been an easier option. If you are not equipped with a steady hand and an ability to just let mess ups and globs work to your advantage, I would definitely go with the pens... However, the paint lifts off the surface and gives it a dimensional quality that I rather enjoy. So maybe try both? You decide. You can use mugs you already have or find some like I did from the local thrift store. I found this delicious set of eight for 50 cents each.<br />
<br />
After painting them, I decided to send one across the ocean to my brother in Germany for Christmas. He has since enjoyed many tummy warming beverage delights (Hot Cocoa and marshmallow style). There is something about drinking out of an artistic mug that makes me all warm and fuzzy inside.<br />
How about you?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sfUX25wp2NQ/TxehGgrV2aI/AAAAAAAAA1k/_w3hOYwtqqc/s1600/drink.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sfUX25wp2NQ/TxehGgrV2aI/AAAAAAAAA1k/_w3hOYwtqqc/s320/drink.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">CHEERS FRIENDS!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">* </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I know this sounds incredibly wussy, but people keep dying and getting hurt doing it... I guess </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I'm just not as daring as I used to be. </span></div>
<br />
<br />evetsandassilemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11160162688654347299noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259465873871993974.post-14699021907406317432012-01-12T01:48:00.002-07:002012-01-12T01:48:55.087-07:00"The life of the dead is placed in the memory of the living". - Marcus Tulius CiceroDeath. Why is it so hard to talk about? I keep going back and forth on whether to try and laugh about it once the pain has subsided or to be serious in my writings on the subject. It's so hard to find a good productive way to talk these things out. I believe it is always best to try and communicate. To express how you feel with those you love and care about. So I will do my best to express myself in an attempt to help better deal with the emotions I have. I will also try to discourage any further depression on the matter. For all the sadness we have to experience in our lives we should always try to look up and find a way to find peace in the things we can't control.<br />
<br />
Today I want to speak only of the death of animals. I don't think I can even begin to fathom talking about the death of our friends and family. That is for another day.<br />
<br />
We develop such close attachments to our pets that they almost, if not completely become human to us, and I believe that pets are a very important part of anybody's life no matter their age or status. If you have not yourself had the chance to own a pet. For shame. Go find yourself a rock or capture a snail* or something. Those are pretty low maintenance?<br />
<br />
Ill give you a once over of some of my pets over the years that I have lost. Ill try to stay chipper, but cut me some slack we are, after all discussing the passing of our dear friends.<br />
<br />
The rabbits, shiloh and milo. We loved these little guys. I found out they had been poisoned somehow and passed while I was staying in Logan with my cousins. My brother Matthew and I used to sneak them into the house and play with them in my ginormous, oversized pink doll house. My mother was not thrilled with this when she caught us. Here is my account of one of their deaths in journal form.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-c4AkRAe-0Js/Tw6Q4o7_ddI/AAAAAAAAA1U/QuD30JGekto/s1600/Shilo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-c4AkRAe-0Js/Tw6Q4o7_ddI/AAAAAAAAA1U/QuD30JGekto/s320/Shilo.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
Don't you love the drawing? I guess I forever chose to deal with things in an artistic way. There are several more writings about later pets but I will spare you and myself the humiliation of those entries.<br />
<br />
Princess. My first real pet was a golden retriever. We picked her out from our friends litter. We all loved her so much. She was, as my childhood journal states, "the best dog that will ever live." We found out that she had kidney failure and had to be put to sleep. I remember it being the worst day of my life. I think we all cried for days, even my brother Chris, who would never be caught dead shedding a tear. He tried to hide it by putting his entire head in his shirt. None of us noticed, we were all beside ourselves with grief. It was our first real experience with death. The closest thing to a family member passing I think we could get. She was, after all, all of our first and most loyal friend.<br />
<br />
The Scruffinator aka Scruffy. Our little menacing schnauzer pup. He lived a long life but was sadly hit in his prime by some idiot teenager speeding in their idiot red sports car that no teenager should be allowed to have let alone drive. It was a traumatic event, especially for my poor brothers who experienced it first hand. I had just started dating Steve, so he got to experience my over dramatic flail to the ground in the most agonizing episode of grief. I think it might have frightened him just a little bit. Needless to say I cried my eyes out on the sidewalk next to him. Every time I think about it I get tears in my eyes. We were such great pals.<br />
<br />
The Snake. Now this one I think you will all think I am a lunatic for even mentioning. (my grandparents and mother especially) I know there are a few of you out there who might understand. I had a pet snake. His name was Tee (after steve) but I just liked to call him snake. He was a little albino corn snake. Pink and orange and incredibly awesome. For unknown reasons he passed away not to long after Steve and I were married. Did I cry? you may be thinking. Why yes, I did. I don't even think I myself would believe that I'd be saying this if you asked me 5 years ago.....but I loved that snake.<br />
<br />
Tippy. This was the most recent departure. Steve and I rescued the little guy** from petsmart where Marcus, my brother, was working. He had some inner ear infections and couldn't be sold, so we took him in. His ear had been fixed but he was a little off kilter at times (hence the name). He was hilarious. Seriously I never thought I could enjoy having a rodent as a pet, but he was an adorable little guy. Running in circles and grunting his little heart out in communication with Steve (his favorite). Sadly as a lot of guinea pigs do, he started having some stomach problems that led to his death. It was hard having to watch the slow process. I know it sounds quite silly to be so sad over such a strange pet, but it truly was incredibly sad. Side note: at the vet they make you check, out of three options, how much you care about your pet. It is a rather cruel way to make someone fill out paperwork if you ask me, especially when they have a sick animal. It was weird. I suppose they are just trying to do their job.<br />
<br />
Somehow we form attachments to these little creatures and they just grab on to our emotions. I cried the night little Tippy died, I am not ashamed to admit it. I Sobbed.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
I learned tonight that my grandparents had to put there dog, Wilson, to sleep. It is a very sad and unexpected thing. My heart just aches for them during this difficult time. It seems almost harder to bear then if I were going through it myself, knowing how much they are hurting over their loss. Cute little Wilson was such a great companion and friend for them. They loved him so much and took such great care of him. He is probably the most loved animal that has ever walked this earth.<br />
<br />
I love my sweet Grandparents. They are some of the most caring and compassionate people I know. My sweet Grandma Jean is my number one reader here. I am always so thrilled when she tells me about how much she loves reading what I write. My Grandpa is so tough. I broke him when I was young by forcing him to hug me. I don't think he really ever liked hugging, but I literally would just hold on to him until he hugged me back. Now I find myself being embraced before I can even think to hug him yet. It would just not be a proper visit without a hug from him and a full tummy from Grandma's delicious cooking. I hope they know how much they mean to me. I finally got up the courage to try and write this post because of them and what they are going through. I know they must be in so much pain over all of this and I wish there was a way I could comfort them. I hope that my writings can at least let them know that I care for them dearly.<br />
<br />
I love you Grandma and Grandpa. I am so sorry for your loss. I wish I could be there to give you hugs.<br />
<br />
<br />
Death. Why do we have such a depressing and frightening word for this. I suppose it is because it is a very depressing and frightening thing we all have to experience sometime in our lives here on earth. The death of those we come to love is never an easy thing and everyone deals with it in different ways. I don't think we can ever truly be prepared to lose those we love. I am sorry if this post has been a little bit sad, and a little bit different from my usual ranting and commentary on my life, but everyone has to deal with it in their own way, there is no right way to mourn.<br />
<br />
All we can do is remember how much joy and happiness they brought to our lives. I am glad my parents taught me this after my first experience with death. Don't forget all of the wonderful things they brought to your life. Whether four legged friend or slithering serpent we can all benefit from the love of a pet, no matter how strange. Until next time.<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">*My mom used to pay me to capture all the snails in the gardens and yard. I was too sad to let them be viciously salted and thrown in the street by my brothers...so I would try to keep them as pets. I know I am such a weird and unexplainable human. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">** He actually lived up to his name of pig, and was quite a chunky little fellow.</span>evetsandassilemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11160162688654347299noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259465873871993974.post-38288980975940093432012-01-06T23:51:00.002-07:002012-01-06T23:51:55.696-07:00RESO..... WHAT?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rFYxzCy56rA/Twfloh9RKjI/AAAAAAAAA1M/v23BBmfX19g/s1600/calvin-and-hobbes-resolutions.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="242" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rFYxzCy56rA/Twfloh9RKjI/AAAAAAAAA1M/v23BBmfX19g/s320/calvin-and-hobbes-resolutions.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
If you know me.... well... I need not explain.</div>
<br />
Helllllloooo 2012. I really cannot fathom that this is our current year. It just does not compute, no matter how many times I go over it in my head. Well, what kind of human would I be if I didn't at least try to make some resolutions huh?<br />
<br />
I have always been a terrible goal maker/keeper. Resolutions...? not really much difference between the two. I have always tried to think of some good resolutions but never really became passionate enough about them. Maybe I just haven't found something to be incredibly dedicated to? I do move from thing to thing, project to project. I am one who loves change and new exciting things. Hence why my goal making/keeping is usually a sporadic mess.<br />
<br />
This year I was trying to think of things I could resolve to actually accomplish... I kind of lost track of time and by the time I came around to pondering this again...well here we are in two thousand and TWELVE and I have yet to actually set some resolutions. I do have one set... thanks to my parents. For my birthday they gave me this great sketch journal. I am pretty excited about it. A sketch for every day. I am pretty motivated and terrifically tickled with excitement about filling this baby up. I love to sketch so I am pretty sure this will be a good resolution for me. Thank you Dad and Mom for helping me set a resolution. One I am desperate to actually keep.<br />
<br />
With resolutions fresh on my mind and after a conversation with my dad earlier today (about how a yellow light air day compares to living with a smoker. A red light day, well you might as well be a smoker if you are breathing that gross air. Thank you inversion) I found myself craving a drink... Diet Dr Pepper... my beloved vice*. Needless to say I questioned using the car. I decided I would get a little bit of exercise in order to obtain my drink... maybe work on one of those resolutions I have yet to commit to... eh hm weight loss? Good idea right? I did, however, question this "good idea" several times on my journey to and from the station. I am getting ahead of myself.<br />
<br />
I live a hop skip and a jump away from a gas station but in an attempt to be an overachiever I decided to go to the one located up the street a bit farther. Quite a bit farther as I found out along the way. It's amazing how much closer things seem from the comfort of... lets say your motor vehicle or even a bicycle?<br />
<br />
I figured it would be beneficial for me to count my steps on this lovely little stroll to see how much ground I covered. I can't really say for sure that footsteps are a valid measurement for distance, but I counted them anyway. As I was strolling, counting to 100 repeatedly I realized how hard it was to count to 100 over and over without loosing count or track of my thoughts. My mind went everywhere. I think I will spare you the details of exactly where it went. All I will say is that I came up with some pretty creative things while inadvertently distracting the mathy side** of my brain. In turn my creative, free thoughts went wild without the distractions from the more analytical side of my brain. After my 3,636*** step journey came to an end as I walked up my porch steps I realized I rather enjoyed myself, aside from it being a much lengthier trip on foot than I had first anticipated.<br />
<br />
I think I may be making this journey frequently, as long as this weather holds up?<br />
<br />
I suppose I should make some real resolutions now? Maybe even some plans to keep them. I am not sure if this trip made a resolution maker/keeper out of me yet.<br />
<br />
Only time will tell.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">* I have no intentions of quitting or attempting to resolve myself of this beloved vice (a better phrasing than habit if you ask me)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">** This is in no way an attempt to seem smarter or more scientific than I actually am. If you want to get technical here then I'd have to direct you elsewhere... I found </span><a href="http://painting.about.com/od/rightleftbrain/a/Right_Brain.htm" style="font-size: small;">this</a><span style="font-size: x-small;"> pretty interesting.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">*** I may or may not have walked up and down my front steps in order to make that number become a cooler number... I also may have lost myself in counting a couple of times in the 70s... so, this number may not be completely accurate. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>evetsandassilemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11160162688654347299noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259465873871993974.post-23633607782930221092011-11-14T21:03:00.001-07:002011-12-21T00:28:58.447-07:00Onesie Twosie ThreesiesI have been the worst blogger... my bad.. I thought I should finally post about this project of mine.<br />
<br />
Some of our closest friends from freshman year in college just had their baby girl. Jeremy was one of Steve's roommates and Kelsey lived next door... amazingly enough we both married these men and are now lucky to be neighbors! We are super duper excited for them and their new little baby. She is adorable. I like having my baby fix without actually having to face the reality of birthing the little wonder. <br />
<br />
Anywho, I was trying to think of something I could make for them that wasn't too cutesy... there is a lot of cheesy stuff out there for babies and I wanted to think of something unique I could make. I love handmade things, for some reason they always seem so thoughtful. I have seen a lot of applique stuff online so I though I'd give it a try. They took some time, but they are totally worth it :) Maybe mothers out there will call me crazy for thinking that but come on, just cause your kid is going to throw up and poop all over their clothes doesn't mean they can't have some tasteful onsies right? Besides these are washable! As long as you wash your fabrics before hand you're golden.<br />
<br />
I made three. One 0-3 month, one 3-6 month and a 12 month size. That way they will last longer I suppose. <br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lveVqPtTafg/TsHmhB8EmEI/AAAAAAAAA00/JOTg5_Y3S1s/s1600/closeup+onsie.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lveVqPtTafg/TsHmhB8EmEI/AAAAAAAAA00/JOTg5_Y3S1s/s320/closeup+onsie.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZyP4BSrEamo/TsHmkq0WcaI/AAAAAAAAA08/DmaNGqXF6jQ/s1600/all+three+onsies.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZyP4BSrEamo/TsHmkq0WcaI/AAAAAAAAA08/DmaNGqXF6jQ/s320/all+three+onsies.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ww6qSF0EeTI/TsHmwpuPkoI/AAAAAAAAA1E/cpI52uMZegM/s1600/single+onsie.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ww6qSF0EeTI/TsHmwpuPkoI/AAAAAAAAA1E/cpI52uMZegM/s320/single+onsie.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
All you will need:<br />
<br />
FABRIC SCRAPS: If you are like me you will probably want to go buy some new scraps too... I get a little crazy if I am not careful when buying fabric. oops. They have scraps they sell at fabric stores. Whatever will do.<br />
<br />
IRON ON ADHESIVE: I used Heat n Bond iron on adhesive ultrahold. I found it at walmart. It suggests you don't try to sew over it, so if you are wanting to do so I would go for a lighter adhesive.<br />
<br />
IRON: of course to iron the adhesive to the fabric<br />
<br />
NEEDLE AND THREAD: I hand stitched all around the edges of the triangles, even though there
were people who thought I was crazy. I thought it made them look more
handmade. I chose to sew around the edges with different colors too. My choice. To each their own.<br />
<br />
I also chose to cut different shaped triangles for mine. The possibilities are endless my friends. Explore and invent. <br />
<br />
I had a lot of fun making these. They turned out pretty snazzy if you ask me. Ill have to make some when Steve and I someday get up the guts to have children.<br />
<br />
Anyway, I have been thinking of starting an Etsy shop. I really need to do it I just haven't yet. Maybe I could sell some of these... along with the other things I have been told to sell... Maybe I am just being lazy? There are a lot of things I should do, but just haven't.. like build my portfolio website. I'm still working on that. I just can't make up my mind on the design. I should just make up my mind already. Sigh. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />evetsandassilemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11160162688654347299noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259465873871993974.post-84566684564378154592011-11-09T16:30:00.003-07:002011-11-09T16:30:48.738-07:00NEWNew header. I'm thinking I might change this every so often? What do you think?evetsandassilemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11160162688654347299noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259465873871993974.post-16306945128695733112011-11-02T13:10:00.000-06:002011-11-02T13:10:37.519-06:00My StoryWith this sugary holiday and the rest of the sugar-sane holidays coming up I decided to share with you a little story about me. Some of you may know that I am a diabetic. I am guessing that a large number of you may not know due to my reluctance to share this with people I don't need to. I was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes when I was nine years old. Which means this February will be 15 years since that time. I cannot believe it has been that long. I wanted to share with you my story (the good and the bad) A lot of people have big misconceptions about the disease, either because they have been incorrectly informed, or because they simply feel they have no reason to know about it, because they don't have it. As a growing concern for many Americans, diabetes should be better understood. Many times in my life I have had people say some pretty ridiculous things to me, sometimes funny, sometimes very hurtful. Having Diabetes has never been easy, but I have learned to live with it. Lets see.. where should I even begin....<br />
<br />
At the beginning of 1997 my family took a vacation to San Francisco. At the time I was having some major issues with my bladder. I had to use the bathroom... A LOT. Around every corner I had to go, several times after any meal... I had to go. Any sweet thing I ate went through me especially fast. My mother had been concerned for some time, and had taken me into the doctor to be tested, but the tests were negative. (Just a side note, my mother always knows things) I remember it being a fun trip, but I probably drove my family crazy with all the pit stops. I knew where every bathroom was. No joke, my family still jokes about it. I had lost a considerable amount of weight. I mean considerable. I look at pictures from that time and it is unbelievable. My Mom was becoming increasingly concerned. When we got back from our trip my Mom took me back to my doctor. The test was positive for Diabetes. I remember not really knowing what was going on and not even really knowing what diabetes was? I was nine years old, and terrified because they told me I had to go to the hospital. All I remember is crying myself to sleep, mainly from fear, on the exam table while people made arrangements for me at the hospital. We had Mcdonalds for lunch on our way to the hospital... I remember my mom calling the doctor to find out what she should even get me. A happy meal... with water.<br />
<br />
I will never forget my time at the hospital. I was terrified. I will always remember Joan. Joan was my nurse, an incredible woman. She was everything a nurse of a young terrified kid with a new disease should be. I was so scared. She told me that Diabetes is very manageable, and while difficult I could still be normal. She asked me if I could play sports with diabetes, or paint with diabetes, or go to school. She asked me all these questions and then said, "You can do anything with diabetes." I will never forget that. The first time she came in to teach me how to give myself a shot I remember hyperventilating and freaking out. I was thinking in my head how much it was going to hurt. I closed my eyes and squinched up my face, hoping this would lessen the prick. Amazingly I didn't even feel it?? I was so surprised. Joan was magic. She would take me down to the game room several times a day to play pac man in the little hospital arcade. She gave me a Jazz mug and told me if I drank enough water I wouldn't have to get an IV, which at the time I was horrified of getting. (refer back to my first needle encounter) I didn't have to get it. Thank you Joan. You were and are an inspiration to me. I only hope that she knows what a wonderful person she is, and how grateful I am for her. <br />
<br />
I remember my brothers and my Dad being so brave when they came to visit me. The nurse had me give them placebo shots so they would get a taste of what I was going through. They were so sweet to let me, their nine year old sister to stick them with needles. My mother was such a strength to me. She stayed with me the whole time I
was at the hospital and was so strong. I later found out that she held
in her tears until she went home. She was so brave and kept her cool,
something that was instrumental in helping me keep my sanity while in the hospital. I was in the hospital for a few days and then sent home to live with this new total life adjustment. <br />
<br />
My family was wonderful. Through holidays and every day life they made adjustments for me. Even Santa knew... we started receiving peanuts in our stockings instead of the loads of candy we had previously enjoyed. For Halloween my mom ordered little toys to give out to trick-or-treaters. Everyone loved our house. After after we got home my mom would let us trade our candy for toys and special things she would buy for us. For our annual Easter egg hunt my sweet grandma would buy me little toys or things I would like so instead of candy I would get those. <br />
<br />
Although my family was very understanding and caring, there were many who were less understanding and made me feel terrible about being a diabetic. I think this is where my complex started. I hated telling people I was diabetic. I was terrified of what they would think. One of my teachers told me I would never be normal, or a guy told me he'd never marry a diabetic, or a friend thought they could catch the disease from trading clothes. These instances made me feel terrible and defeated. I hated that I had been given this challenge. Sometimes things are just difficult, and people are just ignorant. At times like this I try to remember Joan and her wise advice, or how much the people I love have supported me and helped me along the way. <br />
<br />
I am a diabetic. I have lived with it for most of my life and have been strengthened in ways I never would have been otherwise. I learned discipline and responsibility over the years and I am grateful for that. I am so grateful for the people in my life that have helped me deal with
this difficult disease. I am so happy that I have four wonderful brothers who would give up candy to make me not feel so bad, and that would even wish so much that they could trade me places so that I wouldn't have to go through it all. I am so thankful for my parents for all of the scary times that they had to deal with my weird emotional ups and downs and low blood sugar. And I am so grateful for Steve. He is so supportive of me and my diabetes. I say some pretty weird things when I am low, sometimes hilarious and sometimes mean.. I usually don't remember but he is always so great to take care of me. I couldn't have asked for a better family and better friends.<br />
<br />
Well there you have it. There are so many of you that have been so kind and compassionate. You know who you are. I truly appreciate you. I love you all.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
On a slightly more cheerful note and maybe even a slightly ironic one... can I offer you a spoon full of sugar? This year we were Marry Poppins and Bert. It was fun to get these costumes together :) <br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-11oa3ACsgIU/TrGVE1KbbHI/AAAAAAAAA0g/X0IiXIvxrs4/s1600/Halloween.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-11oa3ACsgIU/TrGVE1KbbHI/AAAAAAAAA0g/X0IiXIvxrs4/s320/Halloween.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />evetsandassilemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11160162688654347299noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259465873871993974.post-12358394295488455972011-10-18T20:48:00.002-06:002011-10-18T20:48:35.050-06:00A little more Hopper...<span style="font-size: small;">JUST AN ADDITION.... Is it ironic that I got home last
night to find that our tenants had mowed the lawn... all those grasshoppers. They
never mow the lawn. I think they have mowed maybe twice. Oh and also
Steve kicked one and it half died. He tried to convince me it was
dead... Later I saw that it had moved. It was half squished. I knew it
wasn't dead. Am I feeling bad for these yucky little insects now. Oh
dear... </span>evetsandassilemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11160162688654347299noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259465873871993974.post-82664294824606828092011-10-17T12:53:00.001-06:002011-10-17T12:53:56.816-06:00The grasshopper who saved me...For the past several months I have been disgusted and, I'll be completely honest, terrified of grasshoppers. Maybe terrified is the wrong word. It is mostly a fear of when walking past the old ragged bushes on my way to the bus having them jump at me like bullets in a battle field. Seriously. Terrifying.<br />
<br />
Steve just laughs at me, but it really gets my heart rate going. As I walk, cautiously, knowing from previous experience that the second I place my foot down there will be jumbles of them jumping in the air flying to escape being stepped on. I am proud to say I never stepped on one. The fact remains that I am scared of these little jumpy menaces. As I was pondering this today as I walked out of my apartment welcomed by ten or fifteen jumpers, it hit me. I am a wimp. I am that wimpy girl that my four brothers never allowed me to be. I am scared of a little bug? A bug that when I was little taking piano lessons I would capture little crickets as I waited for my ride and take them home for pets. It is a little embarrassing to admit this weird habit of mine, but it happened. What has happened to me?? Have I lost my toughness. Am I not that tough little girl anymore that can stand her own and play with all the boys? Shame on me. Seriously bothered by this little epiphany I was determined to change my fate.<br />
<br />
All the way home I planned my mission. I will touch a grasshopper, nay I will hold a grasshopper for at least a few seconds.. 10 seconds. I can do that. It's long enough to prove myself and short enough to not hurt the disgusting little hopper. I had my mind set. I got out of the car. For once I couldn't see them all jumping about. I suppose with the cold weather they are being minimized by the fated Logan winter. As I secretly thought joyfully to myself that maybe I just wont be able to hold one, I saw it. The hopper. It was mine. I looked at it, reached and retreated. Determined I cupped both hands over him and picked him up. For ten seconds of agony I held the little bug... jumping frantically in my hands. My heart was about to explode but I would not accept defeat. I had done it. I have overcome this stupid, unreasonable hatred for the disgusting little jumpers. He jumped away and I thought to myself... <br />
<br />
I'm back! <br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">No grasshoppers were harmed in the achievement of this goal. </span>evetsandassilemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11160162688654347299noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259465873871993974.post-21051862280812255082011-09-18T22:49:00.000-06:002011-09-18T22:49:04.337-06:00Some little mini cards I made for a massive birthday party for Steve's family. Just experimenting with some different line patterns in black and white. Sorry for the shotty second rate photo. I have somehow misplaced my camera for the eight millionth time. Pretty impressed with how good my phone's pictures are though. I'm thinking about starting an Etsy shop and maybe selling personalized cards... What do you think? Does anyone have an etsy account. I have heard mixed things. In any case, If you ever want a card made I'd be happy to make you one! Just shoot me an email! (melissahorrocks.usu@gmail.com)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tOb1kchMkJA/TnbIzI36xxI/AAAAAAAAA0Q/b7vIeQ046UY/s1600/CARDS.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tOb1kchMkJA/TnbIzI36xxI/AAAAAAAAA0Q/b7vIeQ046UY/s320/CARDS.jpg" width="283" /></a></div>
<br />evetsandassilemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11160162688654347299noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259465873871993974.post-50128762661405080292011-09-18T21:09:00.000-06:002011-09-19T00:27:15.276-06:00Another Goodbye<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dN1YaYw5Pno/TnayMBydu1I/AAAAAAAAA0M/sxEaAUbbAhA/s1600/2011-09-14+13.16.54.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dN1YaYw5Pno/TnayMBydu1I/AAAAAAAAA0M/sxEaAUbbAhA/s320/2011-09-14+13.16.54.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
Well here we are again saying our goodbyes. My parents and I dropped off my youngest brother Andrew to the MTC on Wednesday. It's so hard to know how to feel when you have ten seconds to hug goodbye and then he is off to his new adventure. Poor guy. I can't imagine all of the things that go through those young missionaries heads as they walk away from their families to the unknown.<br />
<br />
My family is very close. It wasn't always that way. We have all had our spouts and arguments, but over the years we have all become closer then I think many families ever get. We love each other so much. That is a hard thing to find these days. It is so wonderful to have four amazing brothers. I love it. They were always so kind to include me in their games, even if I received the bent ninja turtle sword, or the other second rate weapons to defend myself. I never felt left out. That is pretty cool considering I was a girl and despite all of their best efforts I owned a doll or two... and an occasional barbie. (guilty)<br />
<br />
Andrew was my little guy. My mom tells me that I always wanted to be the one to carry him places, or take care of him. This gives me hope that maybe, just maybe someday I wont be terrified of having children. Somewhere deep down there I have what it takes to be a mother. Anyway I remember how much fun we would have playing with our stuffed animals and beanie babies. He has the most contagious laugh. I can still hear it in my head. So dang cute. That smile would go from ear to ear and there was no resisting that cute little guy. I cannot believe how grown up he is. It is unbelievable! I know he will make a great missionary. He has the social skills to rival my mother (the social butterfly of the century). I am so grateful to have such a wonderful brother! I am so jealous that he will be spending his time in Germany, Austria and Switzerland. Love you Andrew!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-suqFhABPpPg/Tnbf5MkZDzI/AAAAAAAAA0U/MiV0XkjfYTE/s1600/2011-09-14+13.16.27.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-suqFhABPpPg/Tnbf5MkZDzI/AAAAAAAAA0U/MiV0XkjfYTE/s200/2011-09-14+13.16.27.jpg" width="150" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7BkAKixM9Bg/Tnbf9NLIJyI/AAAAAAAAA0Y/ctg9hH9d-SE/s1600/2011-09-14+13.16.06.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7BkAKixM9Bg/Tnbf9NLIJyI/AAAAAAAAA0Y/ctg9hH9d-SE/s200/2011-09-14+13.16.06.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
My parents are so cute right? They are now officially completely empty nesters. Although we kids come back too often to consider them officially empty quite yet.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-88sGqYxvXCU/Tnbgdw3FvYI/AAAAAAAAA0c/f4rG1BqWouo/s1600/2011-09-14+13.33.25.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-88sGqYxvXCU/Tnbgdw3FvYI/AAAAAAAAA0c/f4rG1BqWouo/s320/2011-09-14+13.33.25.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
I just thought this one was cute. <br /><br />
<br />
evetsandassilemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11160162688654347299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259465873871993974.post-39893035885523519132011-09-02T21:49:00.000-06:002011-09-02T21:49:18.237-06:00Thirty Thousdand Pounds of . . .I have not written in ages. I have been feeling incredibly drained and unable to write anything that could possibly hold a minutes interest for anyone. Does that sound negative? Well yes, I suppose it does. I shouldn't be negative. Life is seemingly pretty good. I got a job as a designer for the Utah State Admissions office. The hours and pay are good. I love the job. Love the people. I have a great best friend and husband to be with every day. Fine friends. Even finer family. Seriously you can't go wrong with all that right?<br />
<br />
Well, Monday struck like 30,000 pounds of bananas. I reference a Harry Chapin song my Dad used to play for us youngsters. A sad but peppy ballad that we couldn't get enough of. One Man + 30,000 lbs of bananas + 45 degree decline + failed brakes. You can probably guess the outcome. A tad morbid? Yes. but we loved it. Still do. It's a great tune. <a href="http://itunes.apple.com/us/album/verities-balderdash/id40286674">Check it out</a> he is a master balladeer). ANYway. I found myself up on campus amongst excited students recently returned from what is always inevitably too short of a summer vacation. I listened, against my will, as young and quite irritating freshman girls flirted with oh so....uh I can't find the right word. Gentlemen would be giving them too much credit so I'll just say boyish fools, "oh my gosh like no way are you totally serious?" Now I know I never sounded that intelligent, but did I ever look that young as a freshman? Do I still look that young? Apparently I do, according to many gas station and grocery attendants, not to mention book store attendees.<br />
<br />
Alas I was not one of them. I found myself longing to be them against my better judgment. Yearning for the excitement of going to new classes and meeting new people, in hopes of making long lasting friendships and of course an occasional frustrating enemy. As the past 5 days have gone by I have slowly begun to accept my fate. Although I am no longer a student I will always be grateful for my experience at Utah State both the bitter and the sweet. It is one of the most amazing places I think I will ever know. I learned more about myself then I believed I ever would. And although at times I might have wanted to rip someones hair right out of their head, and mock those fools who dared prove to me their <a href="http://www.thefreedictionary.com/imbecile">imbecilic</a> ways, I really enjoyed my educational journey. I am truly sorry to those that may have unjustly fell victim to my strong willed strikes, you were a part of crucial part of my educational pursuits. Someday maybe you will learn what I was trying to push into your tiny little brain? Whether or not you do, I became strong willed, yet bendable with time spent in those angsty classroom settings with all of my fellow students. For that I can never be grateful enough.<br />
<br />
I am trying to keep my creative juices in tact, so here is a new pattern I made. Which do you like best? <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YcLsCxVi0ss/TmGbLqKfg_I/AAAAAAAAA0I/dITeQOsZ3WE/s1600/geometricpatterngroup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YcLsCxVi0ss/TmGbLqKfg_I/AAAAAAAAA0I/dITeQOsZ3WE/s640/geometricpatterngroup.jpg" width="227" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />evetsandassilemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11160162688654347299noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259465873871993974.post-1086098965443457652011-08-25T01:21:00.000-06:002011-08-25T01:21:39.777-06:00Patterned thoughtsDo you ever have strange dreams that you feel like no one else could possibly dream what you dream? My Dad dreams about numbers. Mathematical combinations?... numbers just fascinate him. Weird. Well, I love patterns. I love making patterns. Designing patterns, looking at patterns... I sometimes dream about patterns. It is true. Anyway. For the past couple of years I have been making cards for my family and friends for special things. It started out with a random birthday I decided I wanted to draw a card instead of buy a ridiculous card from the store. Some people are so good at picking out those. My mom and grandmother always have the gift for picking out cards that say the perfect thing. I can't seem to do this. Everybody wants to be thought of on their birthday, and I really hope that they feel special when they get to open a handmade card. I love my little brother Andrew. He is getting ready to leave on a mission in a few weeks. We celebrated his birthday this past weekend and I made him a card and something new... I made him a gift box to hold his gift. I haven't done this before but since the card I made created a nice pattern I decided it might be cool. I love how it turned out. I have found another good use for my patterned thoughts. Hope you enjoy I took some photos for you. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2nUy9x2EEVE/TlX2X0tQBiI/AAAAAAAAAz0/zjigSPfikxE/s1600/Andrew+card.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2nUy9x2EEVE/TlX2X0tQBiI/AAAAAAAAAz0/zjigSPfikxE/s320/Andrew+card.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gA1QKAxY9lE/TlX2d0qIemI/AAAAAAAAAz4/bqx3yBdw-GQ/s1600/Andrew%2527s+box.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gA1QKAxY9lE/TlX2d0qIemI/AAAAAAAAAz4/bqx3yBdw-GQ/s320/Andrew%2527s+box.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yZ2o2hJHkFs/TlX2jADJm_I/AAAAAAAAAz8/5UjwD7FR2Vc/s1600/cardandbox.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="302" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yZ2o2hJHkFs/TlX2jADJm_I/AAAAAAAAAz8/5UjwD7FR2Vc/s320/cardandbox.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
evetsandassilemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11160162688654347299noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259465873871993974.post-32769243523923473632011-07-24T16:06:00.000-06:002011-07-24T16:06:44.242-06:00My Momma is 50!My beautiful Mother turned 50 last week. We all went up to my grandparents cabin to spend the weekend with her. You wouldn't know that she is 50 if you saw her. She looks so young (a trait in which some of her children are upset to have inherited). A few weeks ago at the gas station a women was baffled, saying that I looked like I was 12 and there was no possible way I was married and graduated from college. She didn't even joke when saying it. It was like a concerned, "are you lying about your age?" sort of question. Very strange. Then my mom walked up and this woman became even more shocked that SHE was old enough to have a daughter married. It was pretty funny. I am grateful to have inherited such genes, but I must be honest it has taken a while for me to realize what a blessing they are. (here we are at my wedding of course).<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BzLFgwuE84k/TiyVplzn9cI/AAAAAAAAAzw/GvGqsiAH81w/s1600/IMG_3260.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BzLFgwuE84k/TiyVplzn9cI/AAAAAAAAAzw/GvGqsiAH81w/s320/IMG_3260.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><br />
Anyway, the cabin was so much fun! Steve and I came up after everyone was there and brought 50 purple balloons (her favorite color) and a cake to surprise her. She loved it of course. <br />
<br />
I made my mom this cake for her. Her favorite cake is spice! It was delicious! We had such a great time playing games and enjoying each others company. My mom of course loved playing with her grandson Tucker. He really is the most exciting thing going on in our family. But he is adorable, so no one minds. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tMjzeZnI_d8/TicoUHHphYI/AAAAAAAAAzk/bzWu0ydoS8E/s1600/Mom%2527s+Cake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tMjzeZnI_d8/TicoUHHphYI/AAAAAAAAAzk/bzWu0ydoS8E/s320/Mom%2527s+Cake.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
I am so grateful for my mother. She is such a wonderful lady. She has always been there for me no matter the circumstances. There have been countless times where I am at a loss for what to do with my current situation and she always has the right things to say, to help me understand, or to just agree with me that sometimes life just isn't what we want it to be. I love her so much. I am so glad we are such good friends. More and more I have been noticing the similarities between us, and realize how lucky I am to have inherited so many wonderful things from my Mother. Thanks Mom, you are the best! Hope you had a wonderful 50th!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vzU4ujT8rG4/TiyUC7Na5rI/AAAAAAAAAzo/ydkKuEnT8wE/s1600/Mom+and+Tuck.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vzU4ujT8rG4/TiyUC7Na5rI/AAAAAAAAAzo/ydkKuEnT8wE/s320/Mom+and+Tuck.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>evetsandassilemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11160162688654347299noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259465873871993974.post-37519969148432220602011-07-13T00:34:00.000-06:002011-07-13T00:34:05.846-06:00And the winners are....<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5Chp4Ocm2gI/Th07swanUqI/AAAAAAAAAzg/zeF0Sn6nmZk/s1600/Geometric+Winners.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5Chp4Ocm2gI/Th07swanUqI/AAAAAAAAAzg/zeF0Sn6nmZk/s400/Geometric+Winners.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
Congratulations girls! You have won a pair of the lovely geometric earrings! Ill be getting in touch to get your address so I can send you your winnings. Thanks to everyone for your comments! Stay tuned for another giveaway later this summer!evetsandassilemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11160162688654347299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259465873871993974.post-66838964134377633942011-07-10T22:54:00.001-06:002011-07-10T23:06:45.316-06:00GEOMETRIC GIVEAWAY<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-X0SVRg7VUSU/ThqAr9i22kI/AAAAAAAAAzM/ElddH_RQhKw/s1600/Geometric+Giveaway+Header.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="124" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-X0SVRg7VUSU/ThqAr9i22kI/AAAAAAAAAzM/ElddH_RQhKw/s320/Geometric+Giveaway+Header.jpg" width="320" /></a> </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CS6E3mYHIS8/Thp8AWWe_DI/AAAAAAAAAzE/J_IkibBI8ac/s1600/4x4+earings.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CS6E3mYHIS8/Thp8AWWe_DI/AAAAAAAAAzE/J_IkibBI8ac/s320/4x4+earings.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
I am giving away a<span style="color: #990000;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #134f5c;">FREE</span> </span>pair of geometric earrings hand made by yours truly! There will be <span style="color: #134f5c; font-size: large;">THREE</span> winners! so your chances are pretty great. <br />
<br />
There are three ways to enter. Triple your already amazing chances! You may enter up to three times.<br />
<br />
* Comment telling me which color earrings you would choose or any other little tid bit you'd like<br />
<br />
* Become a follower of my blog<br />
<br />
*Post a link to my blog on your own blog/website or of course facebook<br />
<br />
Comment <span style="color: #134f5c; font-size: large;">before</span> 11:59 MST Tuesday, July 12, 2011 and make sure to leave a way for me to contact you. Good Luck!<br />
<br />
(open to US residents only) <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>evetsandassilemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11160162688654347299noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259465873871993974.post-55599221575129832112011-07-10T20:47:00.001-06:002011-07-10T22:02:45.784-06:00Geometric Jewelry<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-32kb4fkrkH4/ThpeT-mwELI/AAAAAAAAAys/z4blx9AUXus/s1600/geometric+header.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="155" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-32kb4fkrkH4/ThpeT-mwELI/AAAAAAAAAys/z4blx9AUXus/s400/geometric+header.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
For some reason I got in a super crafty mood while sitting at home all day one Saturday. I needed to try some of the things I have been wanting to make. First, my inspiration came from my lovely friend Tosh. I saw here tutorial <a href="http://cadeandtosh.blogspot.com/search?updated-max=2011-04-02T09%3A48%3A00-07%3A00&max-results=5">HERE</a> on her blog and had to try this. I love how it turned out. They were so fast and easy to make. I made earrings, a necklace and my favorite idea... magnets. I am obsessed with magnets. Seriously why not spiff up your fridge?<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-I_m3Y6C2s7E/ThpfUrp4enI/AAAAAAAAAyw/WTTIr5X-_aw/s1600/4x4+earings.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-I_m3Y6C2s7E/ThpfUrp4enI/AAAAAAAAAyw/WTTIr5X-_aw/s320/4x4+earings.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Here are the earrings I made, I used Folk Art Plaid acrylic paint. Silver and gold metallic and blue which I painted over with silver to give it a nice shimmer.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-G8ClUPHjDR8/ThpgvTfWH3I/AAAAAAAAAy0/x09q4i-6JZ0/s1600/featherearrings.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-G8ClUPHjDR8/ThpgvTfWH3I/AAAAAAAAAy0/x09q4i-6JZ0/s320/featherearrings.jpg" width="227" /></a></div><br />
Second, I made these earrings. I got the idea from ISLY. Melissa always has great tutorials on her blog. Check it out <a href="http://melissaesplin.com/home/2011/06/fun-things-to-do-with-leather-feathers/">HERE</a>. I used the same shimmery acrylic paint on the leather to give it some contrast. I also painted another coat on top using olive oil (a great tip from ISLY). I thought it would be fun to use the beads I made as an accent to the feathers. These feathers were super easy to make, seriously leather is a lot of fun. I am definitely going to be experimenting more.<br />
<br />
<br />
I have a love for magnets... for a long time I have just been using my bottle cap magnets. They just make my fridge more exciting... See?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ESrMIKKvkM8/Thp1QoIA4hI/AAAAAAAAAy4/aZInovA_IAI/s1600/bottlecapmagnets.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ESrMIKKvkM8/Thp1QoIA4hI/AAAAAAAAAy4/aZInovA_IAI/s320/bottlecapmagnets.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
So I thought these would be a fun addition...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oenqEvteUnA/Thp1V6rqXtI/AAAAAAAAAy8/Uz-UzLpRTz4/s1600/Geometric+Magnets.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oenqEvteUnA/Thp1V6rqXtI/AAAAAAAAAy8/Uz-UzLpRTz4/s320/Geometric+Magnets.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
I just glued some magnets to the back and there you have it! Some more fun magnets to hang things on my fridge. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-O23S7Myom3k/Thp1XexxxZI/AAAAAAAAAzA/wKN_8U7bIsA/s1600/GeoMagnets.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-O23S7Myom3k/Thp1XexxxZI/AAAAAAAAAzA/wKN_8U7bIsA/s320/GeoMagnets.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>evetsandassilemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11160162688654347299noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259465873871993974.post-27450845706930660562011-07-09T11:53:00.000-06:002011-07-09T11:53:41.256-06:00Beautiful Thrifting Blue<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NgLNe3yKJuo/ThiTs7QaZqI/AAAAAAAAAyc/V1AySmwNM5o/s1600/bluevases.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NgLNe3yKJuo/ThiTs7QaZqI/AAAAAAAAAyc/V1AySmwNM5o/s320/bluevases.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-w-OZFkQmO3g/ThiTvNw8ugI/AAAAAAAAAyg/0lv5xzOaJMc/s1600/bluevases2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-w-OZFkQmO3g/ThiTvNw8ugI/AAAAAAAAAyg/0lv5xzOaJMc/s320/bluevases2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xsUFput0zxo/ThiUyBup8pI/AAAAAAAAAyo/bYd2zrrk_rY/s1600/bluevase3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xsUFput0zxo/ThiUyBup8pI/AAAAAAAAAyo/bYd2zrrk_rY/s320/bluevase3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>I love thrifting. I found these vases at DI a few weeks ago for 50 cents. Seriously, I love the deals I find there. I just keep looking at the vases thinking of all the things I could use them for. Maybe one day ill find a practical use for them. We shall see. I thought I'd have a little bit of fun photographing them in the meantime. If nothing else they make beautiful photos.evetsandassilemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11160162688654347299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259465873871993974.post-33717177136061468322011-07-09T00:36:00.000-06:002011-07-09T00:36:45.086-06:00A tiny sneak peak<div style="text-align: center;">A little sneak peak. I'm crafting something... I love tiny things....</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IYV3CKQLKV0/Thf2uaB_f-I/AAAAAAAAAyA/mV_2J3pj5eM/s1600/tiny+books.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="244" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IYV3CKQLKV0/Thf2uaB_f-I/AAAAAAAAAyA/mV_2J3pj5eM/s320/tiny+books.jpg" width="320" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>evetsandassilemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11160162688654347299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259465873871993974.post-26500811626440541442011-07-09T00:33:00.000-06:002011-07-09T00:33:12.899-06:00Happy Fourth<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4T0ITkXQP1A/Thf13Y4N6FI/AAAAAAAAAx8/-JPPDmjpVFA/s1600/flagcupcake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4T0ITkXQP1A/Thf13Y4N6FI/AAAAAAAAAx8/-JPPDmjpVFA/s320/flagcupcake.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
I hope you all had a fun fourth of July! Let the festivities and fireworks fly until the end of July. What will you do to celebrate? I made these delicious little cakes for our family BBQs. they were yummy, as most desserts are. Must all the most delicious things add to our hips. Yes, they must I suppose.evetsandassilemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11160162688654347299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259465873871993974.post-4474772467631207332011-07-02T17:00:00.000-06:002011-07-02T17:00:36.533-06:00Spectacles of all sortsFor the past I don't know how many years, my family has attended the fireworks show in Logan. It is a really great family tradition started by my Fathers parents and now carried out by my Dad and our family. My dad used to make and set off fireworks when he was young until my mother watched him do a show and objected to his continuance in this job. This was back before electronic advancements when they had to run and light each firework individually. Kind of dangerous, which is why I am sure my mother objected. This was also a dangerous art in which my father's pyro loving personality was drawn to but followed my mothers wishes. Now he just has to enjoy the spectacle like the rest of us. Only a number of us could attend this year, but the fireworks were incredible! We had a grand ol time eating kettle corn and drinking diet coke. Speaking of spectacles, for Steve's birthday he got a new pair of glasses. I think he looks so handsome in them of course. Here is a photo of us at the fireworks. I thought it would be fun to play around with some bright colors in light of the holiday. I hope you all have a a fun 4th!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DM85Vri-0iQ/Tg-glhR9F-I/AAAAAAAAAx4/IZ4KwXzMdt8/s1600/fireworks%25286+colors%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="318" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DM85Vri-0iQ/Tg-glhR9F-I/AAAAAAAAAx4/IZ4KwXzMdt8/s400/fireworks%25286+colors%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>evetsandassilemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11160162688654347299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259465873871993974.post-7955031721314218572011-07-01T16:32:00.000-06:002011-07-01T16:32:19.803-06:00BibliophileBooks. I love them. I have talked about this before, but it just keeps coming back. My Dad is a bibliophile (a person who collects or has a great love of books). I have dabbled in book art before but decided that for fathers day I would get crazy and make something special for my obsessive book loving father. I made the entire thing from the pages of the book. I think it turned out pretty neat, and my Dad loved it of course! He has already come up with many more book art ideas for me... more to come, someday I suppose.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wt3H1Ibf6BY/Tg5HVL_sDgI/AAAAAAAAAxw/kj5NdF46-Dw/s1600/whole+tree.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wt3H1Ibf6BY/Tg5HVL_sDgI/AAAAAAAAAxw/kj5NdF46-Dw/s320/whole+tree.jpg" width="235" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fIpZNgx1WBs/Tg5JoZoncLI/AAAAAAAAAx0/NneTRyctMqs/s1600/tree-side.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fIpZNgx1WBs/Tg5JoZoncLI/AAAAAAAAAx0/NneTRyctMqs/s320/tree-side.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jbKHAnHFIXA/Tg5G5iji9FI/AAAAAAAAAxs/D0dMvLrKiv8/s1600/Close+book.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jbKHAnHFIXA/Tg5G5iji9FI/AAAAAAAAAxs/D0dMvLrKiv8/s320/Close+book.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>evetsandassilemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11160162688654347299noreply@blogger.com3