There's No Place Like Home

I unpacked the very last box on Sunday, and as of that day, we'd been in the house six days short of the seven month mark. I never expected it to take me that long to unpack, but there isn't anyone my age that doesn't expect life to throw you some curve balls, and to take them in stride is the best management plan. As I unpacked the box, I was acutely mindful of its contents: Demdaco angels that go on display in my scrapbook room. We knew when we moved in that there was no point in unpacking them, as we were going to have custom cabinets built. So when we came across that box, it and the box holding my crosses were set to the side "for later".

As I unpacked the angels and set them out on the kitchen island, I thought about the years of gifting they spanned. I think the earliest date that I saw inked onto the bottom of one was "May '01"...that would have been the first Mother's Day that we lived in McAllen, Texas. Steve would always take the boys to Quips and Quotes on North 10th Street to let them pick one or two out for me for Mother's Day, or Valentine's Day, or my birthday. And as I looked at all of them {I have 32}, I recalled little blonde-headed boys curling up on my lap, or, later, peering at me through awkward adolescent eyes, as we would sit around our dining room table over our family meal. And when I went to place them on the shelves in my now finished custom cabinets, I did not fret over running out of room. My collection fit perfectly, almost too perfectly, as if planned. But as it happens, it was just a serendipitous, organic moment of perfection. The angels fit perfectly, and I knew I need not worry about the collection growing any, or running out of room. Those little blonde-headed boys have of course grown up and gone away, and Mother's Day came and went this year without anything other than a phone call from New York, and a hug from my son who was with us in Florida.

Life goes on. Our whole exercise in downsizing, or right-sizing, and moving was in fact a testament to that, a full expectation that it would be just the two of us again. Steve and I have embraced the spectacularly mild May and June weather we have been having in north Texas, and he and I have sat out on either our new side patio or our front porch in the evenings as much as possible. As we sat on the side patio Thursday night, I asked him, now that we are basically completely settled in the house, and accustomed to most things around us and our new life, if he was content, or happy, with the choice we made to move. See, we are at the two year anniversary of "THE GREAT RIGHT-SIZING DECISION". ;-) You don't have to peer too far back on my cob-webbed and abandoned blog to see that this whole change began with a conversation on our Murphy front porch on Saturday, June 6, 2015, two years ago from today, the day I am "penning" this post. And as Steve and I talked Thursday night, we both came to the individual and mutual decision that it was the right decision, and we are far happier where we are now. Granted, it's been a long two years, full of lots of temporary situations, hard work, stress, and chaos, but unpacking that last box on Sunday signaled the virtual, and very real, end of it all. 

I've stopped binge watching HGTV. I started reading an actual fiction book Sunday night. The stress is off my shoulders. My level of internal joy is increasing and bubbling up inside me. I smile more. I hope more. I look toward the end of the day, the ensuing days, with possibility and positivity. I have resumed my walking at lunch. My Pottery Barn wish list has dwindled down to only some new bedding, {whenever they finally roll out something I like}. Steve and I have resumed our running. Sometimes I just sit down on the sofa and watch a show or take a nap -- because I can. {In fact, one night not too long ago, I sat on the sofa all night long and just watched TV for 3 hours. Unheard of!} He unloaded the box of a puzzle the other night to piece together. We've chatted with our neighbors. We've invited two couples over for dinner this coming weekend {our inaugural hospitality launch}. We've had our first full week vacation away from our new home. {I missed my home!} We've started our builders' warranty work list. And goodness, it's almost unfathomable to comprehend that we have almost been in the house for seven months, but it's true. I've been working on settling in almost non-stop that entire time, and my body can tell you it's true. ;-) Time does fly.  All these days here have been full, busy, productive, and they have flown by.

And in addition to settling down in the house, I'm settling down now in the scrapbook room. March, April, and May have been a crafty flurry of chaos, mayhem, and organizational rabbit holes. I've lived my life for so many months with a DAILY TO DO LIST, and my lists, for the house and the craft room, are nearing their collective ends. I don't know what I'll do with myself! Wait, yes, I do! I ordered some paper today for a specific set of photos, and I am itching to get to scrapping them! But not just yet, as this week I am seriously focusing on wrapping up the last of the moving in of my scrapbook room. I am down to the final items on my list, and that will mean I can finally live the life I designed! ;-) 

I am, admittedly {and surprisingly to me} suffering a little anxiety at finally being finished with everything, and I am internally adapting to no longer needing to search for ideas, research choices, make decisions, shop for things...but at the same time, I am very eager to re-define and re-shape a new normal! I guess after nearly two years of designing and deciding, it's normal that it has consumed me, and it's normal that it's ending, and it's normal, I hope!, to need to adapt to the change. I have scrapped some basic layouts in my new space during April and May, and I have to say the "test runs", or "soft opening", of the new room's custom configuration have gone very well and leave me longing, finally, to once again and un-abandonedly scrap! I am about to be once again where desire and feasibility collide, and yet in a new way, as I've never before experienced a personal, customized space!

So the last box is unpacked, and the last stack of things to put away sits on my built-in desk, and all the collective lists are nearly done. It finally, finally is about over. The dream we launched 24 months ago, the dream we agonized over for 16 months in an apartment, the dream we have been working on in the house for the last nearly seven months - the dream has now come true! I'm really, really about to live the life I designed. And the house, somewhat like the angels fitting on their shelves, fits us perfectly right now. It's been a serendipitous, organic process, and it feels like perfection. It feels like home. Home Sweet Home. There's just no place like it. 

Home Sweet Home ~ Our New Home ~ November 2016

Sketch Credit: Scrapbook Generation

Paper: Lily Bee, Simple Stories

Title: Silhouette File

Headed to Happy

There is a guy at work that I sometimes see at the coffee bar. I give him the normal casual “Hello” or “How are you?” when our paths collide. The thing that I notice about him is that he always answers the second greeting the same way – “GREAT!” and honestly it sort of gets on my nerves. How can he be GREAT every day? I asked him once when he answered, “How is it that you always answer great?” to which he replied, “Because I am great every day, aren’t you?” I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, slowly turned my head, and replied, “No. I’m not always great. Some days I’m just good.” I think a lot about him when I am mulling over my days, taking the pulse on the good life, thinking about the day to day workaday world we live in. I guess I tend toward realism and pragmatism far too much. But, I’m okay with that.

I don’t mean to sound negative, or depressed, or down. I’m not really currently considering myself any of those. It’s just that I don’t think I’ll ever achieve “GREAT!” at the coffee bar at work! ;-) I will admit I have been thinking a lot lately about it all. I’ll also admit one year ago, you could not have made me believe that we would be living in an apartment right now, having sold our beautiful David Weekley home in Murphy, and that we would still be three or four months away from being back in a house of our own. I like to think most days that we are making the right move. Some days it is easier to believe that than others.

For all practical purposes, we are in a tough spot right now, or should I say an uncomfortable spot. {I know this isn't tough. It's just the brat in me getting weary.} The house was initially supposed to be finished “January or February” and folks, let’s face it. There are just a handful of days left in February, and today our house does not even have brick on the exterior, or drywall on the studs. It’s just a shell of what is to come – a glimpse of what it will be. And sometimes to see my dream, I have to squint just so, dig deep into my mind, and conjure up my Pinterest boards to even have a vision of what will be the final product. We aren’t getting into the house anytime soon, and we are sentenced to more days in the apartment. It’s frustrating. It’s isolating. It’s stressful. It’s annoying. It’s an inconvenience. It’s costing us money. It’s preventing us from having any company. It’s freaking out my dog. The end result – our dream – seems so far away.

We had a chance to FaceTime with Philip last night. About halfway through he said, “Y’all are just SO DOWN.” {Yes, yes we are. Right now we are.} It was really an adjustment for him, I think, to see us so down. See, not only is the building going slow, but there are mistakes. Yesterday we were to finally have a meeting with the General Manager, in the hopes of resolution and forward progress, and she came down with bronchitis and had to postpone the meeting. I had carried with me for a few days such high hopes of finally getting some things resolved and having the opportunity to keep the house progressing. When the meeting fell through, I just didn’t have anything left in me to summon up good, much less “GREAT!” I felt a little bad for our son, but at the same time I thought, “It’s okay for him to know that the struggle is real sometimes for all of us.” And I won’t apologize for being human and working my way through an ordeal.

But, I know I need to suck it up a little and keep my chin up. We have too many days left in the apartment to be so down every day. {I think we have more than 90 days left, but less than 120. I should stop counting.} I was reminded yesterday of this layout I completed a few weeks back. Sometimes our scrapping can be oh, so timely. Awhile back my friend Janet had shared 50 Moments - Scrapbook The Pages That Matter Most, a book by Lisa Bearnson. I was intrigued and promptly bought the book, with wonderful intentions. The boys graduating high school and my nest emptying pushed that book onto a shelf and the project to the back burner. I just didn’t get around to working on any of the story prompts until another friend Maria initiated a group challenge with my Peeps during 2016. Maria’s first prompt that she selected, serendipitously, was HAPPY. 

Oh, goodness. It immediately brought to mind a road trip from McAllen to Colorado that I took in 2002. On that trip, I drove through a town in Texas named Happy, and I remember really pondering - still to this day even 13 years later - the road sign that stated Happy was 6 miles away. I coined the phrase in my head “6 miles from Happy” and reflected - then and continually - on how many people can live so much of their lives just outside the boundaries of Happy. {Can you see where I’m headed here? Need that road map?} ;-) Well, when Maria shared that particular 50 Moments Happy prompt, I knew it was time to document this story. I just didn’t admit as I scrapped the story last month that I would need to force myself so completely to live inside it. The layout includes a quote that I really can’t shake off of my heart today, 

“Happiness isn’t something that depends on our surroundings. It’s something we make inside ourselves.” 

                      – Corrie Ten Boom

So many times we live waiting on the IF/WHEN scenario. I’ll be happy when….I’ll be successful when…I’ll be better when…And it goes on and on, in a circuitous infinite loop. I learned this lesson back in my 30’s. Taught it to my sons. Coined a phrase. “Choose joy. Because it is a choice.” All the times I retorted “Choose joy" to my sons are all coming back now to haunt me. OR, that phrase is coming back to renew me, to remind me, to refresh me. To give me hope. To help me hang on. I don’t want to live 6 miles from Happy. I want to live right smackdab in the big fat middle of Happy. No matter wherever Happy may be.

Yes, my life’s walls might temporarily be on hold. There may not be many picture perfect shots right now. The apartment lighting might be terrible. The neighbors might be loud and annoying. This is my {albeit temporary} Happy. I need to live out the truth that happiness isn’t something that depends on our surroundings. It’s something we make inside ourselves. In the spirit of looking at things from a better perspective, of having hope, of hanging on, here's a photo of where the house is today. 

"Of this be sure: you do not find the happy life, you make it."

- Thomas S. Monson

Here's to making our happy. 

I’m sorry I’ve been on a bit of a hiatus from blogging. I have continued scrapping. I just have been wallowing in my situation and avoiding writing. I’m going to aim to do better. Hang on. This year might be a bit bumpy, but we can still enjoy the ride. And remember I'm not aiming for "Great!" My course is headed to Happy.

Today is a Great Day to be Happy ~ 50 Moments ~ January 2016

Paper: Basic Simple Stories

Title: Silhouette Cut File

A Fresh Pot of Coffee...Come On Over

She taught me to invest in others. She taught me to give generously, and then give just a little bit more. She taught me to laugh loud and often, at myself and with others. She taught me to listen - to my heart, to my intuition, to the person sitting next to me, to my spouse. She taught me to believe in my children, to defend them, to fight for them, to protect them, and when appropriate, to spoil them. She taught me to entertain graciously - to have an open hearth and a ready home, and to light it up with the love of others. She taught me to put my best foot forward, and that said foot should be in sporty shoes and have a matching handbag. She taught me how to fight for myself and to win graciously. She taught me how to shake off the naysayers and be true to my own path and my beliefs. She taught me the beauty in unrelentless love, that spans decades, for your family. She taught me how to love a best friend, and to not be afraid of having him for your husband. She taught me how to cultivate an enduring marriage, and to shine the light on your mate from the twinkle in your eye. She taught me how to find joy in the little things, and that there are no little things. She taught me that it was better to live the gospel than speak the gospel, that Jesus was bigger than our problems, and that God was our father. She taught me that it was okay to love coffee, chocolate, fritos and puppies. She taught me that - in all things and times and places and spaces - people mattered most, and loving them was the best work a woman could do. She was a beautiful soul, and my life is blessed beyond measure for having had her in it for all of my life, and yet not near enough of my life. Heaven has been waiting for her for awhile, because who could not be excited about the chance to sit on the couch next to Barbara and catch her up on life, and whisper secrets, and giggle over coffee about the best shared things, the stories we hold dear to our hearts, the love for life and family. Every person she loved here will carry a piece of her in their hearts, in the giggle of a story, in a shared devilish grin, in a wink across the room, in a knowing glance of empathy, in the holding of a hand, in the telling of a story. And I think she would like that. You were loved beyond measure. And you will be missed beyond reason. Thank you for being such a beautiful soul, and for sharing yourself so generously with the world. You were a gift to us all. You were a gift to me. And now you are a gift to heaven. Save me a seat, dear one, and put on a pot of coffee. I will be there sometime. And I will want to sit next to you when I get there. 

I wrote the above today, this Sunday morning, about 24 hours after I got the horrible phone call, and about 26 hours after her actual passing. Even though we age, and life's end is inevitable, there is never really a time, a moment, a second, when you are willing to acknowledge and concede the end. At least not this gal. I want every second to count, and then I want them to count again.

Barbara was a gem. She was a sassy women in an age and time when sass wasn't always necessarily accommodated. She had two daughters older than me, and she was gracious enough in her love to allow others in, including little me, and in my mind I liked to think of her as more than my mom's coffee buddy, more than an aunt, more than a friend. I explained to others that she was my "second mom". She loved me enough to want the best for me, and knew me well enough, and knew my family well enough, to guide me with wisdom, tenderness, and love in any and every situation when I sought her counsel. 

Early memories include sitting on her lap while she shared coffee at our kitchen table with my mom. There was hardly ever a time when my mom could get away with going to Barbara's without me begging to come along. I knew her favorite slippers, I knew the kitchen drawer that held the Fritos, I loved the step up in her bedroom into the "secret area". There is no telling just how many secrets were shared within the dark rich paneling that ensconced her family room. I adored her Christmas decorations each year in her dining room and living room. Each time I would visit, I was prepared to move the newspaper out of the way, be ready to catch up on life, and would delight in seeing what treasures she had picked up lately. I loved how she loved her husband, and I marveled at how deeply he adored her. If there was ever a moment when I thought a perfect marriage could exist, I would say it would have happened on 310 Cedar Lane, in one of the moments I was blessed to be in their company.  

Barbara loved the saying, "If you don't have something nice to say about someone, come sit next to me," which she would always finish off with a tilt of her head, her deep raspy chuckle, a twinkle in her eye, and a sheepish grin. But the truth of that was that while she loved to hear the latest in your life, she was quick to offer wise counsel, and having had many siblings, she had a life perspective that countered brash youthful ideals and helped me stay grounded. Through all phases of my life. There probably has never been another soul with which I have been so painfully honest. I would tell her anything and everything, and I knew she wanted to know because she loved me, and wanted to help me ferret out the ups and downs, the highs and lows of life. I was her Penny Rooskie, her Penny Renny. And she was charming enough to let me think I was her favorite.

After her December 2012 fall, where she broke her shoulder, we were so thankful she recovered. When she fell the following December, breaking her hip, it was too hard to believe that fate could be so cruel, and it was harder still to concede that she would never fully bounce back from that. I saw her twice in her nursing home, taking Steve with me once, and my sons with me the second time. Her face lit up both times when she saw me, and as she greeted me, I just knew she was telling me, as she had for so, so, so many years, "Well, look who it is. Don't you look cute. Come sit next to me." Her brain couldn't make all the words make sense, but the woman I loved was there in her expressions, in her smile, in her eyes, in her hand gestures, and in the love for me that I could still feel. I still chuckle when I think about her going right for those brownies. She did love her sweets. After all, what better companion could a cup of dark, strong coffee have? 

Barbara, you will be missed. There will never be another you for so many of us. I pray sweet Carlton enough -- enough to get him through his remaining days here without his beloved bride of 61 years. My husband, my sons and I will always remember you, and we will love every memory we are blessed to have of you. Oh, to hear the phone ring, and the voice say, "Are you home? Put on a pot of coffee, I'm coming over," or "What are you doing? I've got a fresh pot of coffee. Come on over." Oh, honey. I'd love to. I'd truly love to.

Barbara ~ Remembering a Gem ~ September 19, 2015

Sketch Credit: Scrapbook Generation 

Paper: Carta Bella

Title:Rochester

Snickerdoodle Sunday

As I sit and sip coffee, I think back on the week, and in my mind I land on Thursday. It always seems like any day can be national something day. There's an ice cream day, a siblings day, and even the dog days of summer get their turn. National Dog Day was Thursday. My sister teased "Facebook is going to the dogs."  I told her she was so punny.  As we continue to settle in to life in suspended animation, aka life in our apartment, aka life in the clubhouse, we continue to find new things to do each day, new places to explore, new things to hunt for, new discoveries about what is in storage vs. the apartment, all while we grapple with the last few boxes {still} to unpack.

I am not a very patient person. I am not. But I would like to say that since we have now been in the apartment for 4 weeks, and we still have not completely unpacked everything, and I have not gone crazy, that perhaps I am more patient than I realize, or than I give myself credit for. I have *had* time to unpack, but I have chosen to do other things. I have chosen to spend as much time with my boys while they are home in their own brief differing windows of pre-Europe time, I have chosen to create things, to take a road trip to Springfield, Missouri, to get a massage and then brunch with my guys, to visit with a friend, to sit on my tiny patio sipping coffee....As I yearn for things to be completely "settled" in our new life, I have been able to balance that with the greater need for being in the moment and living in that moment, rather than feeding the inner beast that demands to be completely organized. 

I have been wanting to start our evening walks again. Two factors have been against me: the sultry still hot evenings, and the lack of a "new path" here. The weather cooled off a bit, and Truman and I both have been dying for a walk, so Saturday night we decided to just walk around the apartment complex. You should have seen how excited my boo was to finally be prancing around. He was fresh from his beauty appointment Saturday morning, so his step was lighter than usual, as if he knew just how darn cute he was with his new cut and sporty red bandanna. While the walking path was not picturesque or scenic, we made the most of it and just embraced where we were. Isn't that such a life lesson? I think that is how I have handled much of this transition, including the few remaining unpacked boxes. I have made the most of my time, and so be it if we still are a mess here and there in the corners. When given the choice to unpack, or walk this incredibly cute dog, wouldn't anyone choose the latter? ;-)

Truman has been such a joy to us in our days of transition. He has settled in to the apartment life like a champ, and has not once complained about the loss of his big green backyard, full of wild bunnies to chase. He is unsure of all the noises above us, but he will take most of them with a tilt of his head, or a whimper, reserving only the really loud noises for his bark of warning. He is so worried about his momma that he thinks someone upstairs is out to get me. ;-) 

Andrew has been gone two weeks now, and Philip leaves in one week, and this little Truman guy is the one that we get to keep with us. He is turning into quite the rotten little boy. If I had any doubts about that, my husband was sure to let me know just what he thought of my holding this baby in my lap while I did my hair and makeup the other day. Boo was a little scared and my lap is big enough anyway. ;-) Truman has been right there with us during all of his summer moving swirl. 

I had to really chuckle at him on the afternoon we drove back from Tyler. We had run some furniture we were getting rid of over to my sister, and we spent the time there out on the back patio, watching her four youngest children swim. We had taken Truman with us, as it was a day that included an Open House for our home while it was on the market still. We decided he would enjoy the field trip better than being penned up in the laundry room while we were gone and strangers roamed the house. 

And we were right. He just ran circles around that pool, checking out every little change in the kids' activities, and also dealing with my sister's horse puppy, her Grand Pyrenees Scout. We had not been in the car driving long before little boo just settled down to nap, much like little boys that had traveled a decade and a half ago in that same back seat. Yes, Truman is spoiled rotten. But he is my best boo after all, my only boo. Thursday might have been National Dog Day. But in my house, every day is dog day. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

You Are Spoiled Rotten ~ Truman's First Swim Party ~ June 2015

Departure Time? Someday!

“The world is a book and those who do not travel read only one page.” – St. Augustine

A month from today my baby boy will board a plane to Paris, France, tour it for a week, and then, after a short stop in Dublin, Ireland, head on to his campus of choice for his semester abroad study, a Christian campus in Lithuania. Every time I say Lithuania, I chuckle, because my dear sweet mother cannot say Lithuania. ;-) She puts a few too many L's in there. 

Andrew decided back in February that he would study abroad for this coming fall semester. We were absolutely fine with that decision. In fact, both Steve and I really desired that our sons would avail themselves of an opportunity that was never afforded either one of us. When we college shopped with our sons, an abroad program was on the Need to Know if You Do This list. Andrew had a fantastic first year of college and we have marveled at the strengthening of his confidence and interests, of "watching" from 877 miles his maturing into a young man. He had a game plan from the beginning when he proposed to us that he study abroad, and he has stayed at school this summer to work on campus and live free while doing it. 

Now, same song, second verse! About three weeks ago, our oldest son let us know that he was tired of putting it off, and he had checked into it, and he wanted to also study abroad. He finally said, "To heck with it!" and we agreed. #yolo Now, Philip had originally registered for Vienna for spring 2015, but he changed his mind and cancelled that registration in October 2014. I was inwardly very sad that he did that, but the sphere of influence gets smaller as the child gets older. Every time we broached the subject with him, he assured us it was out of the realm of possibility because of academic offerings and staying on track, etc., etc., etc. So, imagine our delight when he told us he was ready to do what he needed to do to make it happen! We asked, "When?" and gulped quickly when he replied "This fall!" Me, "As in August? As in 2 months from now?" and he happily replied, "YES!"

Okay. Okay. Two sons in Europe. Okay, okay. I can do that. No hyperventilating necessary. Breathe deep. May as well! If one will be gone for Thanksgiving, why not two? Knock it all out at the same time, right? Philip applied to and was accepted at their Florence campus, so now, yes, we will have both boys studying abroad, one in Lithuania and one in Florence. Yikes! Once we got over the initial shock of his late in the day proposal, we were both so very thrilled that our sons will have this opportunity! Simultaneously, no less!

And it made me ponder all of the things they will have the chance to do, and see. And it made me recall that, if you discount my 3 Caribbean cruises, where let's face it, so many ports look alike, I only have left North America once, back in 1986, which is nearly 30 years ago! Double yikes! When the boys were younger, we were all about showing them various scenic sights in the United States. And we would never dream of leaving them...and didn't want to take a "big trip" until they were old enough to embrace it and remember it....

So many domestic trips later, I have wonderful vacation memories, but a very empty passport! And now we are knee deep in two sets of tuition payments, so I am not sure exactly when I will get to Europe! But, I am going someday! {And I say Europe because I do not desire to go to Asia or Africa or South America. And I've already been to Australia. That was my 1986 trip.} When I was thinking about all of this, I thought to myself, "Where would I go? Where do I want to go? Write it down! Time is running out!" 

The list is long! Ireland is probably near the top of my list. And then Italy! Oh, Tuscany, Rome, Florence! Yes, please! Venice? Maybe. If you twist my arm. ;-) And London, yes! And Scotland, yes! And Paris? Oui, oui!! If for no other reason than to eat a croissant! And yes, I would like to see Greece I believe. Austria? Yes. I heard the hills are alive there! And Denmark for the tulips, and Belgium for the chocolate! 

“For my part, I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel’s sake. The great affair is to move.” – Robert Louis Stevenson

I'm ready to have my great affair and move! I think that is a pretty good list. Fairly robust! I don't know as I will get to all of them. But, I decided I needed to document this desire to help make my dreams come true. I put down 4. I intend to eventually come back and do a companion page for this layout, adding 4 more destinations to my list. I'll add Ireland and Tuscany and Austria and Greece, I guess. And maybe before too much longer, I'll be planning a real itinerary and then someday maybe, just maybe, I'll actually scrap some photos of these places that I took, because I got there.

“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines, sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.” –Mark Twain

I don't want to have any regrets. I'm ready to explore, dream, discover! Have suitcase, will travel. Departure time? Someday!

My Europe Wishlist ~ Documenting My Bucket List ~ 2015

Layout featured in the July issue of  CREATE  by Scrapbook Generation

Sketch Credit: Scrapbook Generation 

Paper: We R Memory Keepers

Title Font: Pacifico

Snickerdoodle Sunday

It's another Sunday morning here, where I sit and marvel over how quickly a Saturday has said both hello and goodbye. I know if I could invent a way to slow down a Saturday that I could retire from work and become a full-time blogger. ;-) Alas, every day holds the same amount of hours and we are left striving to make the most of the best ones, and rush through the bad ones.

It feels a little like a Saturday here, as my husband has headed out for the rare non-Christmas season Sunday workday. Something about pre-sale pick-up day and he'll see me around 5:30. It's okay, though. I'm not alone. I have been embracing the camaraderie and collective creativity of a crafty weekend spent in the comfort of my own home among the ladies I treasure the most, my mom and my two sisters.

In 2006, I went to CKU, and then my mom and one of my sisters and I went to Creative Escape, and then I began thinking, "Why pay to go play when we could play together at one another's homes?" We did a few get togethers over a couple of years in the 2008-2010 range, and then life got a little busy. In 2011, I believe, we began a crafty weekend with our cousins, but something about the nest emptying and my house resonating in silence had me longing to get my mom and my two sisters back here and once again craft together as just the four of us.

They arrived Friday afternoon and I morphed my great room into a craft room and we have had a relaxing and wonderful time, just being together. One sister is working on appliqué projects, and one sister is quilting, and mom and I are scrapbooking. Truman is the weekend mascot, and hasn't let up in his pursuit of bunnies or anxiety over strange noises, so it seems like all is well in the world. This morning the four of us are going to brunch together, and I hope to squeeze in a photo shoot, and the day will go all too quickly I am sure. It has been a wonderful weekend, and leaves me wondering when we can do it again.

I have spent this weekend, and the last month or so, working on a vacation album. {I do my Month in Review layouts in the nooks and crannies of time. I did finish February and March two weekends ago. They come together quickly and I love how they document our life, encapsulating the high points.} But, this vacation album project is just that - a project. It has taken me all of the weekend to get my titles cut, and weeded off the Silhouette mat, taped together, and adhered to the layout page. I should wrap that up today and then move on to finishing up my journaling. 1/3 of that is done, and 2/3 needs to be typed up. Then I'll print them all out and put them down. 

My hope is to finish this album on or before NSD. {Which is just around the corner! Can't wait to play along online with SG!} I started this album in March and have photos and paper on 71 pages, and my title and itinerary page are complete. I now can say I have titles on all but a handful of those spreads that comprise the 71 pages. It's a lot of work in a relatively short amount of time, even though it feels like it has taken awhile. A peek at the album is below - the title page and the itinerary page. I am eager to finish it, and move on to the next vacation, because three weeks from today we leave for our 2015 family vacation, and I don't like to be so far "behind" on these trip albums. 

Yes, in three weeks we head out. Both boys are in different but final phases of their semesters. Philip is in the midst of final exams and Andrew is wrapping up his coursework and prepare for finals. Philip will finish on the 28th and Andrew will finish on or around the 8th of May, depending on his finals schedule. Philip arrives home on May 12 and Andrew arrives home on May 15. I am ready to see those boys and have some undivided time away together, working hard on resting and relaxing and having fun. It's hard to believe another year of their college life is done, but when I factor in that we are 3/8 of the way finished with paying for college, I can get a little excited. Needless to say, the next few weeks will be a little bit of a whirlwind, and I have lots of lists going on paper and in my head.

The sun is about to break over the tree top, my coffee cup has emptied, and two of my three houseguests have awakened and joined me. I better wrap up and get going on one of those lists here in Scrap Central. Today the weather is supposed to be another glorious day, as yesterday was, and the warm bright sun has been a wonderful relief after a week of stormy skies and pouring some much needed rain. What's going on in your world today? Anything scrappy happening? Are you with me?

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Our Bite of the Big Apple ~ NYC Family Vacay ~ July 2011

Sketch Credit: Scrapbook Generation

Paper: Simple Stories

Title Font: Rochester, Arial

It Was All Started by a Mouse

I think, for the first time ever, that this year on MLK day, I was off. Back when I worked the big corporate world before, it was a floater, and we had to pick MLK or Good Friday. I changed jobs last May, and picked up 3 holidays in the transition: Martin Luther King Day, Presidents Day, and Good Friday. There is just almost nothing better than a 3-day weekend. Getting three more a year is like a huge boon for my heart. Of course, having a retail hubby means I often spend them somewhat alone, or quasi-alone, but I am okay with that because I can scrap.

I am part of a closed group, an online community of scrappers, 300+ women that I interact with virtually daily on message boards, about topics ranging from paper for a college drop-off, to the best movie we've seen lately, to venting about work, to whether or not to get the Amope. They are a huge blessing to my life. I have probably met about 75 of them in real life. {I need to do an album!} They are my peeps, and you can find me hanging with them regularly here in Scrap Central.

We have a cheerleader, a ringleader, an enabler extradoinnaire, a gal that is just the sweetest bundle of energy and ideas that I may have ever met. I think I can get a decent amount of things done, but man, she makes me look like a slacker! She's our Cherrypicker. This is a big year for her, but I won't go down that rabbit trail right now. Well, Cherrypicker decided that we needed some fun, and organized an amazing online crop, full of challenges - TWENTY-FIVE - and games - three - and prizes too numerous to count! So many gals stepped up and created challenges and decided to hostess them, and/or offer prizes. It's really, really amazing. And our online crop was to be held on MLK weekend. Perfect!

I think I was able to knock out about eight of the twenty-five challenges, and I was okay with that, since I was actually sick with the flu during MLK weekend. One of the challenges I just loved, though, was called "Something Old, Something New, Something Borrowed, Something Blue", and we were given a Sketch Savvy sketch by Susan Stringfellow as our "Something Borrowed". {Susan's Blog with the Sketch} Our Old was to be an old photo, our Blue was an element on the page, and our New was supposed to be something new to us. Well, when I saw those heart images on the sketch, my mind saw little Mickey heads. And then I started thinking about just what "old" photo I could use, and I decided I would go waaaayyyy back. 

When I started scrapbooking, my mom started scrapbooking with me. And one of her first projects was take her two banana boxes of family photos, and divide them into four piles. And she then preceded to make each of her children an album of their portion of our family memories. You know, memories and photos from the days when you *might* shoot 3 or 4 rolls of film on an annual basis. Well, somehow mother knew back in 1995 that I would want the Disney photos. I have one album page with 6 photos on it. I love them! {I keep meaning to check with my sisters to see if their albums have any, or if there really were just 6 photos taken that day, which is probable, and highly likely, and so foreign a concept today.} 

So, on that MLK weekend Saturday, I popped those photos out of my childhood album, scanned them in, did color restoration as best I could with my feeble skills, and began to work on the layout. Looking at these old photos makes me so happy. It was the summer of 1972, the first summer that DisneyWorld would have been open, knowing it opened October 1971 like any true Disney fanatic does, and the photo of us in front of the castle just mesmerizes me. The trees and bushes are so small. We are on the bridge to Tomorrowland, and our feet are actually on the bench, and we are sitting up on the ledge of the back. {I know today they would tell us to get down!} The lamps for the Rose Garden are to the right of the photo, and you can see so much of the castle walls. 

I do not actually remember this day, per se. I do not remember going. I would have been almost 8. Dad says we went only for one day, and it was on the way home from a trip to Biloxi. {I know that Orlando is not on the way home to Houston from Biloxi. So, this was a big detour.} I can imagine my dad having heard about this new place, when DisneyWorld really just consisted of Magic Kingdom, and having the wanderlust in his heart for a road trip that he does, and having us all captive in the car, I can just imagine him deciding to drive east to Orlando "on the way home to Houston from Biloxi" - just exactly the kind of fun, surprising adventure he'd bestow on us.

I love seeing the clothes we were wearing. I know, from examining the whole of the 6 photos, that I am wearing the same sandals as my two sisters. I imagine we got them at Weiner's on Sheldon Road. My two sisters are wearing bell bottom pants and baby doll tops, all of which my mom would have sewn. I am wearing red plaid bell bottoms and a coordinating shirt, one of the two beloved Garanimals outfits that I owned. I can still remember wandering through the fixtures at Sears in Denton, looking at all the choices, picking out what outfit my grandmother was gifting me. Oh, I loved that outfit. And I love that I know I have loved red all of my life. Mother says her outfit was a gift from Metropolitan Life and it had been given her in Biloxi at the convention we had just left. My little brother is wearing Garanimals, too. I guess Granny bought him an outfit, too. She did try to be fair.

I love my big smile on the carousel! Yes, I was born to love a good ride and a fun time! When I saw this photo, I recalled the scene in Saving Mr. Banks, where Tom Hanks, portraying Walt Disney, hops onto the carousel and declares it his favorite ride. I think that is cute to know. I did actually ride the carousel in November with Steve and mom. Everyone should ride a carousel when they are 50 and 77! Nothing like watching the world go by from the back of a pretty white steed, while keeping your bearings by lightly grasping the brass pole. 

And mostly, I love that I am being tickled by Dale. You can see my little brother standing to my left, watching, and you can see my sister watching, too. I think this is going to be in Town Square, but I am not certain. I want to take this picture with me the next time I go to the park and ferret out where I was standing. I love knowing the characters roamed the park freely, and that it was okay to grab a little girl and give her a hug and a tickle. I love knowing that it was fun for me to be hugged by Dale. I have told Dale subsequently of this event, and I will someday have to show him the photo, so he can smile, too.

Ah, little memories. Lots of thoughts and recollections from three small, old photos. So much joy in remembering. Family vacations, idiosyncrasies, rituals, traditions. Six people. One day. 958 miles from home. One Magical Kingdom that was all started by a mouse, and a man from Merceline, MO with a dream in his heart, and some pixie dust in his pocket. So much to remember across the miles, as I look back on the day when the magic began.

Back When the Magic Began ~ One Disney Day ~ Summer 1972

Simply Being Together

This past January was the thirty year mark of my having met this most amazing man. I wanted there to be fireworks in the sky, a romantic getaway for two, a weekend of moments to pause and reflect on three decades of being friends. It wasn't in the budget, though, and instead we sent off a college tuition payment. ;-) No harm, no foul. 

When I look at our life together, I am always amazed that God picked me to give such a wonderful gift of a man. There isn't a day that we get to spend together where we do not laugh, or smile at each other across the room, or finish each other's sentence, while wishing we had more time together. I don't mind getting older at all, but I am really learning to value the measure of a moment.

While having the blessing of scrapbooking for two decades, I have had the blessing of carving out a life for three decades with a funny, tender, sweet man who happened first to be my friend. The treasure in that lies in the fact that he enjoys me, he lets me be me, he strives to bring out the best in me, and he sees me for who I am, and not who he wishes I were. There isn't any higher calling in our life than that. I know I am who I am today because God gave me this man to help mold me and shape me into the best pieces of me.

Steve has always been very supportive of my scrapbooking, and also of my writing. There are many nights he will sit in here on a chair, with either his Airbook or my little TV on, and just camp out in here with me and let me create, and he is content. And every night that I am in Scrap Central, I am wishing he was in here with me. I think of our "last house", the one more I want to build, and I ponder how I can create a space that allows me to create right next to him. 

Last fall, October 2013, I was taking an online class. It's a spectacular class - it kind of made my eyes open up more to the possibilities with the sketches I love so much. The class is called Photo Arrangement Replay and it dissects the bones of the sketches and tells you how to put them back together. Well, one sketch called for a big element, and I immediately thought of a star, and I immediately thought of wanting to do a layout about going to the Cowboys - Giants football game.

I began pulling papers together, and I just didn't have the right ones. I didn't have all of the ones that I wanted. Drat that college tuition, and me cutting back some and being sensible. ;-) There were two stores "near" me at the time, one 66 miles south of me, and one 75 miles west of me. Yes, the metroplex is huge. I called the one south of me and they did not have the paper I needed. I called the one west of me, and they did have the paper I needed. Then, I debated inwardly the utter insanity of driving 75 miles to buy 3 one dollar pieces of paper. Well, the whole of scrapbooking can be considered insanity if you look at it on the dollars and cents/sense scale. I've never let that deter me yet. ;-)

What I love about this man of mine is that he gets it. When I told him my dilemma of not having the right paper, not being able to get it delivered from an online order until the deadline for the layout was past, and the possibility of driving 1 1/2 hours to a little store to which I had never before been and 1 1/2 hours back from same said store, he said, "Well, it's a beautiful day. Let's go." Yes, long ago, you had me at hello.

We left home around 11 am, trying to time the to and from trip legs outside the boundaries of any rush hour traffic situations, and we headed west, to Fort Worth, very nearly after a load of goats. Now, my mother would always say if someone was taking a long time and not arriving as expected "They must have gone to Fort Worth after a load of goats!",  meaning they were inherently lost, off base, running behind. If ever there was a moment in my life when I might be considered to be headed to Fort Worth after a load of goats, I knew with all of my being as I buckled into my seat that this might very well be that moment.

It was an absolutely beautiful day for a drive. We went on roads we had never been on before, unknowing at the time that in a month we would repeat this drive as part of the journey to visit a college with our youngest son. I like serendipitous moments like that. And while we were out and about on this beautiful fall day, we saw for the first time a restaurant called Pappa's Burgers. Now, anyone that grew up in Houston knows the fame of the Pappa's brand. And Steve and I have a long love of eating at all of their various restaurants, including the beloved but short-lived Italian Pappa Mia's off 1-10, and the genesis of their brand, The Strawberry Patch off Westheimer.

So, we knew when we saw that burger joint, as well as we knew we were on an incredibly silly field trip, that we should stop and redeem the sanity level by having a good 'ole Texas burger. And, oh, my goodness - what a burger it was! We sat on the open air covered patio and just had a delightful lunch. I have a secret fetish for Fritos and any burger that has guacamole and Fritos on it always gets my vote. I loved that burger. I do hope some day to make it back there for another one. The onion rings were equally good and Steve liked his burger, too. Truly a fun little find.

We finished up our meal, headed on to the store, I bought my paper, and we headed home, to Scrap Central, where I could finish this layout, For the Love of the Game. It was just an ordinary kind of day in our life, really. A day where we ran an errand. A day where we stumbled onto some good food and shared a meal al fresco. A day where we took in some of the beautiful soft hills of Texas. A day where we found some adventure and explored new places. A day where we loved simply being together.  And I have been blessed to have three decades of them. Yes, long ago, you had me at hello.

Fun in Forth Worth ~ Paper Diva Field Trip ~ October 2013

Sketch Credit: Scrapbook Generation

Paper: Carta Bella

Font: EggCream

Finally, I want to remind you to check out my three friends, Laurie, Stephanie, and Tina, on The Scrapbooker's Blog Tour! Today they will have their blog post up for their turn on tour and I would love for you to check them out! 

From last week's post:

Laurie Danielle is something I'll never be - the mother to a little darling girl! I've never scrapped "girl pages" and I just love her bright use of colors and the fun layouts she does of her little one! I am always inspired by her artistic bend. Check out her work on her blog, http://lauriedanielle.com. I think you'll love it!

Stephanie Feltus is a sweetie that I have had the pleasure of scrapping with more than once. I am always envious of her having started scrapbooking so young, before being married. She will have her whole life scrapped! Her blog address is  http://craftyholidaygirl.blogspot.com and I would love for you to check our her work!

TinaGale Husong is another friend that I have had the pleasure of scrapping with. Not in my home state, and not in hers, but up in St. Louis! Tina is a Mickey fanatic, too, and so not only can we dish die cuts, but we can dish Disney. Her blog is  http://tiggersscrapplace.blogspot.com and it is another great blog to check out!