Tammy Fischer

Achoo! Snuffle, Snuffle...

As if driving around town with my brassiere flapping in the wind isn't bad enough...

Sully and I stopped at the grocery store this morning to pick up treats for the kindergarten Valentine party. I think Sully caught Sam's cold. I turned my back for one teeny tiny second to find the 100% all natural non-concentrate variety of juice box. During that teeny tiny second I heard an adorable little schneeze. Achoo! How cute. I smile and turn back around to find my kid blowing his nose into the maxi pad he just dug out of my purse. He looks at my horrified expression and says, "Tell me bwess you mama or no more mister nice guy!" Oh the glamour of it all.

It seems as if I am not receiving those glorious emails from typepad...the ones that let me know that someone has posted a comment to my blog. The situation should be (better be) remedied soon. In the mean time, if you post a comment and I don't respond please don't think I'm a big dork. Well, I am a big dork but please don't think I'm a snobby big dork.

Achoo! Bwess you!

Airing My (not so) Dirty Laundry...

Remember that post from a while back where I gushed on and on about Kevin? I take it all back. Every last word. Allow me to elaborate.

It's a typical Saturday for us. We run errands in the morning and get home in time for me to drop off the men folk so that I can dash to the spa for a hair appointment. Kevin offers to unload the back of the jeep so that I can run into the house to go potty before I have to leave again. Isn't that nice? Yes? When I come back outside he's standing on the edge of the driveway waiting for me. He hugs me and kind of "guides" me over to the driver's side. After I get in the jeep he closes the door for me. "I'm so lucky," I'm thinking, "he still does the whole door thing for me".

As I back out of the driveway I notice him standing on the lawn, with the camera, taking a picture of me. Hmmm. It's not like I've never gone off to the spa before. What the heck is he doing?

Oh well, on I go. I have an appointment after all. It's a nice sunny day. I've got the radio blarring and I'm singing along like one of those people you see and laugh at all the time (you know you do). As I'm driving down one of the busiest streets in our town I notice that people are making a point to pass me and smile or wave. Hmmm. "I'm in such a great mood that I'm just attracting kindness left and right," I think. Then a car full of really cute young college-age-ish guys pulls up next to me at the stop light. They're smiling and waving like crazy. "Ok," I think, "now we are talking my language, mmm hmmm. I still got it baby." The guys begin motioning for me to roll down my window. "Be cool," I tell myself, "they don't know you're thirty five...heck, on a nice sunny day you probably look all of eighteen, mmm hmmm." So down goes my window. Looking back, I now realize I was probably grinning like my lips had just been pinned back to my ears. Attractive. The guy in the passenger seat says, "Hey, you've got something hanging off the back of your truck!" Hmmm. Okay, so they weren't really checking me out. They're just being nice and letting me know that Kevin left a bag or something sticking out of the lift gate. Oh well. "Oh," I say, "My husband left that there. Thanks." That sent them all into a crazy fit of laughter. Hmmm. "Okay," says the guy and he shrugs his shoulders. Off my cute college-age-ish guys go. Bye-Bye.

I continue on my way and finally arrive at the spa. It's Saturday so it's pretty busy there. The only parking spot left is the one right smack in front of the big glass window. On the other side of that window is where all the stylists' chairs are located. While you're having your hair done you can watch out the window. I park. I get out. I see my friend who owns the spa inside looking at me. She's got her hand over her mouth and she's waving her other arm around like a maniac...motioning for me to go to the back of the jeep. Hmmm. What do I find?

He is a dead man.

Oh no, that's not all. Nope. He took successive photos as I was driving away. You know, so he can print them out and make one of those little flip books and re-live the experience over and over and over again.

See, I recently lost some poundage. On a smallish person the first place you seem to loose the poundage in the chestal area. I never even wore that bra. It still had the store tags so I thought I would donate it to Goodwill, along with some other stuff. When he emptied out the back of the jeep he found the bags of stuff back there. Yeah. He's a real gem.

I'll get him. In a big way. To be continued...

Hi Ho - Hi Ho, It's Off To Urgent Care We Go...

Don't you just melt into a runny puddle of mom goo every single time your mini munchkin gets sick?

It's been such a tough couple of days for my poor little Sam. Fever, aches and pains, chills...then today ears that hurt. One quick phone call to the advice nurse, one (not so quick) visit to urgent care, a double ear infection and three bottles of amoxicillian later we were back home snuggled up in bed. I don't care what anybody says. It's okay to have ice cream for dinner when you feel that lousy.

There was no way I was going to leave his side today. While he slept I had to find something to do to keep myself from melting into that puddle. I decided to play a bit. I dug up a tiny little canvas I had stashed away just for this occasion, hauled a bunch of my fun stuff out to the family room (who needs a pretty studio anyway) and clipped, glued, painted, stamped, and antiqued the afternoon away.

After viewing my work of art (ahem) you may be shocked to learn that I have not, in fact, ever actually assembled a mixed media collage before. I know, so hard to believe. What did I learn from my little journey out of my tidy organized box? Let me share with you:
{A} I am no Pam Garrison. Not by a long shot.
{B} It's really hard to do an image transfer if you do not have the proper materials on hand. Elmer's school glue is not a substitute for Golden Gel Medium.
{C} Wet paper towel will eventually flake off and stick to your canvas if you attack your mud puddle of paint too aggressively with it. I was trying to blend.
{D} It's really fun to do something different without any preconceived expectations. Really fun.

Since I'm stepping out of my safe little box I thought now might be the perfect time to give you a tiny glimpse of the real me. Trust me, it's best if I give them to you in small doses. Hello, my name is Tammy and I'm addicted to

bubble gum. It's really an illness. When I'm working on something...when I'm in that beautiful place where there is no outside world, I have to be knawing away on gum. And let me tell you, I'm no dainty little girl when it comes to my gum. I smack, I snap, I crack, I pop. It's bad. What's even worse (yes, it gets worse) is that I'll only chew a piece until all of the suger has been dissolved (say, three minutes) and then I toss it and pop in a fresh piece. Here's the aftermath of just one morning of project/gum bliss:

Sad but true. I'm an addict.

It really has been such an exciting week. My sister from another mister Dede Warren received my share of our scrumpalicious trade (I promise I'll show you what she's sending me soon). I think she liked what I sent to her. And, the beautiful Heather Bullard received a package from me this week. I think she also liked what I sent her. Honestly, I didn't think anyone could talk about me as much as I could. How deliciously kind are they? Thank you friends!

The wonderful blog jog that we all love to participate in brought lots of new (to me) crafty sisters knock knock knocking on my door this week. Like Lisa Johnson. We've discovered that we live only thirty minutes apart from each other. New best friend. She has no choice. And Karen Otto. She wrote to me hinting that she feels the need to imrove her blog...huh? Will you please go visit her and then tell her that her blog is beyond perfect just the way it is...wait until you see her stuff! New best friend. She has no choice. Not to mention the four hundred sixty seven new inspiring links I've added to my sidebar. Okay maybe not four hundred sixty seven but close to it. Really, I am just stunned and thrilled at how this little bloggy blog world brings us all together. We are so lucky that we have this disorder known as "cannot leave the house without paint in hair, threads hanging off butt (of course they would be the bright pink ones), glitter under fingernails, glue on nose disease".
Aren't we? Yes?

I'm off to rub a skinny, bony little back until those eyes finally fall into a peacefull slumber.

Have you missed me...since yesterday?

I know, I know...either I don't post for weeks at a time or I post every single gosh darn day. Oh well. I like to talk about myself. Just thank your lucky stars I don't post multiple times a day. Hmmmm...

The reason behind my constant self promotion? No, it's not that I lead the most fantabulous life this side of the Mississippi...as much as it may seem. Kevin just got me a fancy schmancy new camera complete with macro lense. I was afraid to touch the thing until I took the "get to know your fancy schmancy new camera class" at the camera shop. Well, I took the class and now my fancy schmancy new camera is my best friend. Never mind the fact that each and every picture I take comes out so blurry it would make you motion sick to look at any of them (I'll be inquiring about that at the next class). I know all about tripods, thank you very much. But, how's a girl supposed to get that perfect "Oh, I just happened to be snapping a few pics when my child decided to present me with a perfect pink rose bud nestled sweetly in his chubby little kindergarten hands while the sunlight streamed across the floor highlighting his tiny little handmade organic sneakers" picture? Yeah. Thank heavens for Photoshop, it's my second best friend these days.

Anyway, now that my camera is permanently attached to my eyeball I have all sorts of pictures to post and then blather about. So, pull up a chair...you'll want to sit for awhile.

Where shall we start today? Oh, I know! Guess what I got for Christmas!

This...

Know what that is? It's a lego version of a PMC kiln. The real McCoy didn't arrive in time for the big day so my main man and mini main men built me a tiny lego version. It has a little hinged door and everything! The interior is equipped with a kiln shelf and even has a few pieces of "art" that are in the process of being fired. Would it be wrong to say that I almost love the mini version more than the real one? I'm so excited to get started on some new pieces. I've been madly sketching ideas in my sketch book. That clay is e.x.p.e.n.s.i.v.e. It's not something you can just "sit down and play around with" until you come up with something you like. I want to make sure I have each and every design well thought out before I tear into one of those packages. That probably doesn't lend well to the spontaneous, happy circumstances kind of art we all know and love but this chicken's not taking any chances. Bauk, Bauk.

And, once I have a few of those ground breaking works of art completed I'll have a pretty place to store them all until someone purchases one (or many - winkie, winkie).

Kevin built me two of these most scrumptious shadow box type pin board type frame type thingies. He sure does know the way to a girl's heart I tell ya. I have each of them hung on either side of my big hutch (that he also built for me) and now, when you walk in our back door that's one of the first things you see through the doors of my studio. The jewelry looks so pretty sparkling in those french (what? where? did somebody say "French"?) blue frames. I just love them. I think he probably built them for me because he's afraid I'll bring home more vintage dress forms. It's another obsession (I know, I'm obsessed with everything) of mine. Every time another one comes home I tell him that I have to have a place to "display" my jewelry. I mean, come on, I can't just lay everything out on a shelf or something. I have a feeling it's boderline creepy to anyone but me. I name them. I dress them. They're like big life size barbie dolls...just without heads...or arms...or legs. Well, whatever, they're pretty.

Okay my crafty friends. Thus concludes today's miscellaneous ramblings. I am now heading down to the studio where I will prepare my half of a most exciting trade that I've scored with this dreamy friend. I absolutely can not wait to show you what she is putting together for me. I'm trying to convince her to adopt me but I think she's afraid she would never experience a quiet moment ever again. Did you know I like to talk? Alot.

Okay, I'll give you all a well deserved break from me for at least a couple of days now. Maybe.

Rock My World Baby...

Thirteen years can be a lifetime.

Especially when you're dealing with me. Okay, I will be the first to admit that, when it comes to husbands, I am a teeny tiny bit spoiled. I would be hard pressed to come up with something that I wanted but never got (well, my private jet has not pulled up in front of the house yet but...). I mean this is the guy who climbed into a garbage dumpster to retrieve the keys that I accidentally tossed in with the trash. He didn't even get mad at me when I laughed at him in there.

We have truly lived our entire lives together. High school sweethearts. I clearly remember the end of junior year. The day before my chemistry final Kevin sat with me for hours upon hours patiently teaching me an entire year's worth of equations and factoids from the periodic table of elements. Never mind that he had exams the next day too. Okay, he's got a brain the size of Texas so I doubt he needed to study for exams anyway. I would probably still be in high school if it wasn't for him.

It was the late eighties people...I think my hair weighed more than the rest of me...don't laugh.

We even went to college together. The UW is known as a big time party school. Not a good fit for a girl who never ever did or will allow alcohol to come anywhere near her lips. When we started school all the kids were allowed to move into the dorms a week before classes started. This was known as "welcome week". Really it was one enormous party that lasted an entire week. I tried to fit in. I really did. One night I went to a party with my new roomate. Somehow we ended up in the dorm room of two boys we didn't know. Safe. No. Stupid. Yes. My roomate proceeded to get horrendously drunk. By three o'clock in the morning she was stripped down to her underwear and jumping off the top bunk of beds into a bean bag chair. I begged her to go back to our room with me. It wasn't going to happen. Here I was, a little freshman girl way on the outskirts of a huge campus I didn't yet know my way around. Who would save me? I called my hero. He got out of bed and walked all the way across campus to find me. The problem was that I couldn't tell him exactly where I was. I waited in the entrance of the dorm I was in and he wandered around checking all the other dorms until he found me. Then he calmly walked me back to my dorm.

Not all of our stories are cute and funny though. The summer after our freshman year of college my parents announced that they had decided to divorce. The afternoon that they told me I sat in the basement at his parents house sobbing my heart out. He sat, rubbing my back, listening to me lament about the end of life as I knew it. Every once in a while he would go upstairs to retrieve some sort of treat or another for me. I didn't know it then but that's probably when the little capsule that surrounds us clamped tightly shut. I always knew that whatever hiddeous events were taking place around us we were safe in our little cocoon.

Kevin's mom died unexpectedly about a month after we were engaged. Then, a few years later, my mom was in a horrible car accident that left her brain damaged. We've watched grandparents suffer through cancer, said good bye to wonderful friends and welcomed new ones into our lives. No matter what paths we were wandering down we always seemed to cling to each other. Then we wandered down a path we didn't even knew existed until we were there.

I found out I was pregnant just as my mom was "waking up" from the coma she had been in after her accident. If you know anything about head injury patients you know that as they are healing they go through "steps" that affect their personality. One of those "steps" is violent anger and raging fear. Really, she didn't know who she was, where she was or what had happened to her. She often would try to get out of her hospital bed and wander around, but she had lost the use of one side of her body. The hospital staff decided that she needed to be "contained" in her bed. They outfitted her room with a bed that had a tent like structure attached to the top of it. The staff could zip it shut and then lock it. Basically, she was in a cage. Often I would arrive at the hospital, get off the elevator and hear her screaming at the top of her lungs. When I would reach her room I would find her naked, on her hands and knees, violently shaking that tent back and forth. She wanted out! Needless to say it was beyond stressful for me. Sam was born ten weeks early. He weighed less than three pounds when he was born.

But you know what? We got through all of that. Kevin (finally) finished up his PhD, we moved out to Oregon and had a fresh new start.

Thirteen years really has been a lifetime. As much as I wish the bad stuff had never happened to us I do know that it has super glued, stapled, tied and nailed us together. Really, there would not be a Tammy without a Kevin. There would not be a Kevin without a Tammy. He listens to my incessant chatter about whatever happens to be bubbling up in my head (and sometimes absorbs some of what I say). He puts up with sparklie pink walls, glue and paint all over the house, and relentless apple-cinnamon Glade plug-ins (don't knock them until you try them). He only rolls his eyes a little bit when I bring home yet another stray animal and never (well, almost never) says, "I told you so." The poor guy has changed the chandelier out in the same room probably seventy-four times (I promise I've picked the right one this time!) and never knows what kind of window treatements he will find when he gets home from work. I can ask him a question about anything and he always (it drives me nuts) knows the answer. He is the fixer of stuff, the spider keeper-awayer, the retriever of snacks. And, don't even get me started on what kind of dad he is...there simply is no match out there and I would take down the first person who challenges me on that. He has single handedly given us a life that most people dream about having...and, he cooks too!

He's going to kill me for posting this picture. I would have posted mine too but I can't find it. Really.

Fire up the personal jet...

So, I just picked up the February issue of Romantic Homes magazine because the super cute Tara of Bella Pink mentioned in her blog that she and many other fantabulous crafty sisters were going to be featured in this special Valentine's issue. Well, not only did I thoroughly enjoy all of their articles but guess what else I came across? Eeek! Are you ready...I'm doing the excited dance...

This was in the "we love..." section of the magazine. It's a little blurb about an exhibit that is now taking place at the Fine Arts Museum of San Francisco. It's a recreation of Marie's private retreat, the Petit Trianon. The blurb states, "...for the first time outside of France...an intriguing peek into her personal belongings - objects free of royal dictation and oozing with Antoinette's most personal tastes..." Why oh why can I not be in San Francisco right now? Okay, the exhibit runs until February 17. If you are in the area GO! GO NOW! And then rush home and email me to tell me all about it.

Anyone out there interested in babysitting two little boys and three cats for a couple days so mom can jet off to San Francisco? Anyone? Hello?

Lessons Learned...

So, I've been fighting off a cold or something for over two weeks now. It's one of those nasty lingering annoying bugs that just refuses to move on to the next poor soul. It likes me. Go away! In an effort to finally get this thing packing I tried to force myself to be lazy today. My plan was to park myself on the sofa all day. The only time I was going to move myself was to pick up the boys from school (and maybe go potty once and a while). No running today, no reading, no jewelry, no sewing, no computer work. Yeah. Hah. It lasted for all of two hours and twenty seven minutes.

I can't not do. Why is that? Here I was, sprawled out on the sofa. My charge was to watch mindless television (don't even get me started) and all I could do was wonder why my brain wouldn't turn off, just for one day. So, while my brain was supposed to be quiet it was chattering away, trying to figure out WHY it wouldn't be quiet. It was like dealing with a three year old. Yikes, I just told the world that my brain has the attention span of a three year old. I need antibiotics or something.

So, even after pondering this for way more time than I should have I could not produce an answer. I did, however, come up with plenty of reasons why I should revel in the fact that I find it impossible to hit the mute button on my thoughts.

I came to the realization that I'm never ever lonely. Most people living my life would find themselves quite lonely at times. My husband is an electrical engineer at Intel...way long hours there. All of my family is thousands of miles away and when it comes to the friends department, well I firmly believe in quality, not quantity. But, by golly, I've got ME! I've got my thoughts and my ideas and my dreams. Even better; I like my thoughts and my ideas and my dreams. They fill me up and keep me warm. They feel smooth and creamy and soft like the well loved and well worn scrap of vintage velvet I'm forever hunting for but cannot find. Where do these thoughts and ideas and dreams come from? They're in my head but they feel like a gift. From who? From where?

Okay, now sometimes I want to keep these thoughts and ideas and dreams locked up in my head for only me to savor in my own sweet slow time. I love the anticipation period of any endeavor. I love the planning and the prep. I love knowing that soon I will be completely enveloped into the process of that endeavor. All of you crafty sisters out there know exactly what I'm talking about. That glorious time during a project when there's nothing else you can possibly focus on. It's like being a teenager in the throes of passion with her first love. There's no where else you want to be. There's nothing else you want to do.

Then, inevitably I will reach the point of completion. A sense of accomplishment drifts over me but also a prick of disappointment. The process is over. There will be no more anticipation, no more mystery. I feel a moment of sadness but then, suddenly those thoughts and ideas and dreams begin their magical waltz in my head again. The cycle continues.

How lucky I am to be trusted with this gift. How lucky I am to be willing to receive it. How lucky I am to have the luxury of nurturing it. No, I should not hide those thoughts and ideas and dreams in my head. I have a responsibility to let them out, let them shine. Allowing those thoughts and ideas and dreams to soar is my thank you note to whomever or whatever sent them to me.

Something that I struggle with constantly is the "need to please" syndrome. I am forever desparate to ensure that anyone and everyone around me is happy...even at my own expense. I am a people pleaser to the infinite degree. But my chattering brain helped me work through this a bit today. I finally realized that I should not do what I do to please others. I should not do what I do to gain notoriety. I should not do what I do in order to "keep up with" the latest trends. I should do what I do to honor the gifts I've been given. I learned that it's pointless to use these gifts to impress others. It's time to stop worrying about what everyone else thinks, if everyone else approves. It's time to stop measuring my accomplishments against others'. My accomplishments will never compare to your's. Your accomplishments will never compare to mine. Your accomplishments were birthed from your thoughts, ideas and dreams. Those gifts were intended and entrusted to you...just as my thoughts, ideas and dreams were intended and entrusted to me.

As if all of this is not enough I realized that we all have one final gift to cherish. It's our ability to use our gifts to nurture, encourage and inspire each other. So, I am making a promise to myself as well as to you. From this day forward my thoughts will smile upon your thoughts. My ideas will shimmer along side your ideas. My dreams will dance with your dreams. We are blessed.

Oh yeah, the pictures have absolutely nothing to do with my blabbering...I just think they're pretty...and in my effort to not worry about what everyone thinks I going to plop them into today's post. The end.

I Haven't Blinked Since...

Have you laid your eyes upon the latest issue of Somerset Studio yet?

So, there I was, innocently strolling through JoAnn's when suddenly I saw it. My hands began to tremble and my palms got sweaty. My heart was beating so fast and loud as I threw myself in front of the magazine rack (I apologize to the lady I side tackled on my way there, sorry lady). Finally it was in my hands. The whole world around me became silent as I turned to the article. Oh. My. Sigh. Then, sigh again. Seriously...I almost wet my pants when I saw it. The sixteen artists who collaborated on the "Extravagant Liaisons" zine are goddesses. I bow down to you. Each and every piece is something to be savored. I'm so insanely jealous that for, whatever period of time, you gave yourself the gift of being immersed in and inspired by Marie.

Let me explain that my love for all that is Marie Antoinette goes waaayyyy beyond obsession. I own the movie. I love the movie. I could recite the movie line by line to you over and over and over again. Just ask Kevin. I own the CD set. I love the CD set. I listened to the first set I had so much that I wore them out. Sad? I think not. They're a symbol of our love (I still have the first set hidden in my underwear drawer). I own this book of stills from the movie. I love this book of stills from the movie. It sits in a place of honor next to my bed. Would it be wrong to call up Kirsten and ask her to visit me as Marie? We could have a slumber party. I would serve cake.

I have come across mention of Marie in reference to lots of other people's work. I had a feeling that other people felt the same way that I did. I have often tried to explain to Kevin (who thinks I'm insane when it comes to this subject matter) what an absolute visual feast this movie is...especially to those of us who thrive on visual stimuli. It's got a bit of everything; romance, humor, drama, music that you could swim in, even subtle lessons on judgement and morality. Thankfully, I now know that I'm not alone in my complete unwavering pure sparkling love. Thank you Sofia. You will forever have a very special place our hearts.

Seriously people. If you have not bathed yourself in this movie yet do it now! Wait, no, finish reading my blog first and then go watch it. You'll be rewarded with images like this...

and this...

Okay, go watch the movie and then get the latest issue of Somerset Studio. Run!

Only a year in the making...

Yay! It's finally hitting the stands.

I submitted this article to Bead & Button almost a year ago. I've published other designs before and everything went smooth as silk but this one was a headache from day one. Among other issues the original showcased beads I used were suddenly "discontinued" (i.e. they became "vintage"). This happens alot in the bead world...just my luck it happened in the middle of my article being written. So, I had to quickly (ha ha) stitch up new samples for the editors and while I was doing that I decided to fine tune the design a bit...which meant rewriting the instructions. Aaahhh! Suffice it to say I'm glad it's finally put to rest. It will be on the stands soon and you should have a peek! It really is a fun bracelet to stitch and looks super cool on.

Update! Update! Update! I just received an extremely kind comment from the editor of Bead & Button. After reading her comment I realized that I sounded like I was whining about my experience publishing with them. Quite the contrary! I should have stated this from the beginning...even though we hit a few snags along the way (which I've learned is soooooo common in the publishing industry) the staff at the magazine continually assured me that we were heading in the right direction. They truly want everything to be absolutely perfect for their readers and go the distance to achieve just that. If you ever have the inclination to submit a project for consideration I highly recommend contacting Bead & Button. They have the unique ability to combine perfectionism with generosity and kindness (and a little hand holding)...exactly what us speed brained artsie-craftsie types need!!

Bad! Bad Blogger!

I've been a terrible horrible no-good very bad blogger (I feel your pain Alexander). I've commited the number one blogging sin...I have not "regularily posted to my blog". It's not that I've been lazy or uninspired. Quite the opposite! Since we returned from Wisconsin I've been in a complete tailspin.

It all started with my brother's wedding. It was one of the most beautiful weddings I have ever been to...and I'm not just saying that because it was my brother's. It really was amazing. And being able to squeeze my brother again (it's been six years)! Oh it was heaven!!! I was so thrilled that I fininshed their gift in time (just in time).

I'm sure you can tell that it's all Amy Butler fabrics...my own (simple) quilt design. It was my first quilt ever so I'm a bit proud. I made it clear to them that it's a baby making quilt. Specifically for making girl babies. We have all boys in our family and I desparately need a girl to craft for.

So, home again. The instant we walked in the door this rush of insanity spread through me and I've been a wild woman ever since. I suddenly have this intense desire to completely "finish" our house. We moved in a year ago and I've been tip toeing around the decorating issue...holding back...big time. Really, our house has been an empty cavern for a year (except for my studio, of course). I think this need took over when Kevin pulled all of the Christmas decorations out of storage for me. I just couldn't bear to put up my precious Christmas treasures in this empty house. It sent me spinning. I'm now sewing all new window treatments. We're finally hanging up all of my vintage crystal chandeliers. We're going to get started building a mantel for the fireplace (Kevin's crafty too). I've been living at the antique shops. I'm calling this movement the "home beautification movement". Go forth and conquer!

I've also had this intense need to nail down my identity and packaging for French Kiss. This has been niggling in my brain since summer. My bachelor's degree is in fine art with emphasis on graphic design so this kind of stuff is really important to me. I've been clawing at my brain to come up with some fantabulous ideas for packaging that nobody else has already done (ahem) but I've constantly hit the wall. That is just maddening. No worries though...I think I've finally nailed it down! Yay!

Now, to Annette, who purchased "Random Thoughts" a couple of weeks ago:

I apologize for the boring vanilla flavor of the packaging you received. I wish I could ask you to send the necklace back to me so I could re-package it for you. I feel that you didn't get to partake in the complete "French Kiss" experience. Frown. I really hope the pretty jewels make up for the lack of presentation.

Oh, but wait...in addition to all of this I'm thinking of opening (gulp) another shop on Etsy. This would be my third. I have my Handcrafted Finery shop. This is where I sell my patterns, kits and finished handbags. I also have the French Kiss shop for the vintage flavored jewelry. Now I think I might want to open another where I would showcase my contemporary jewelry (I told you that I have a hard time sticking to just one thing). What do you guys think? Would that just be too confusing? I've already registered a shop name (it's a secret for now) but I don't know...I'm rolling it around. Any thoughts?

I've also decided that it's time to start taking care of my poor body the same way I exercise my mind. I've started running again. I must tell you that I love running...and I have to admit (wink wink) that I'm pretty darn good at it. It's just part of my soul. A few years back I trained hard for the Portland Marathon but three weeks before the race I was running to answer the phone and I tripped and scrapped my leg against an antique chest that we had in our family room. I felt something wet dripping down my leg and when I looked I realized that part of my calf was (take a deep breath) hanging off my leg (sorry). Twenty nine stitches later my leg was back in one piece but my dream of running the marathon that year fluttered out the window. I've run on and off since then but I think it's time to start hitting it hard again. Running makes me feel so clean and strong. Really, my brain works better when I'm running on a regular basis. I think that's how I finally figured out my packaging crisis!

Yes, I'm longwinded. I like to talk about myself. I'm still here. I'm sewing and beading and soldering and painting and running and shopping and and and and...loving every second of it! Aren't we lucky to be living this life? Gotta run...I've got stuff to do!