Tag Archives: Family

An Ordinary Day

23 Feb

It was just an ordinary day.

With my extraordinary family.

I’m not using many words today and that’s more difficult than it sounds.  I’m simply trying to chronicle a day in photos, only I fell off the picture-taking bandwagon.  I should have snapped a photo of my dashboard for all the running around I did, a photo of piano lessons and the grocery store, a picture of the ladies at Bible study last night, and a picture of dirty dishes…definitely dirty dishes.

Well, you get the point.

I’m linking to Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop.

P.S. Yesterday afternoon I put up a little post about reviving Fiction Friday, at least for this week.  If you like to write or even if you don’t, you’re invited to post a snippet of fiction to your blog and then link it over here on Friday (tomorrow).  You can click here for yesterday’s example.  I shared a (very rough) page from my WIP Not My Life.

The Tenacity of Creativity

21 Feb

One year I made mason jar lamps filled with pine cones and gifted them to almost everyone in my family.  Another time, I upcycled the baskets used to hold wedding paraphernalia on my big day.  I painted them white and learned to sew by making liners out of fabric filled with tiny gingerbread men.

I think it’s pretty safe to say my family hated every one of my gifts.  They didn’t even pretend with me…no putting out my lamps when I visited or filling my baskets with junk and stashing them in a corner.  Nada.

I’ve long since come to my senses and stopped gifting handmade, unless I purchase my handmade on Etsy; however, when it comes to the world of arts and crafts, I tried my best.

I scrapbooked through the early days of nursing and two, four, and six o’clock feedings.  I stamped a handful of cards that were never signed, sealed, and delivered, and I sewed my daughter cute dresses when she was little.  I even made my son funny cartoon themed pants that lasted him through pre-school.

Once I stenciled a chair.

Through the years, I’ve released so much bad art into the world, it’s a wonder I keep trying.  I think I must have inherited a randomly tenacious gene.

I wasted, in total, an entire semester of college on art classes.  Now, don’t misunderstand, I wasn’t naive enough to think I harbored any talent.  I just loved to make something out of nothing.  I was the worst student in my drawing class.  I think my professor broke out into a sweat when he saw me registering for Introduction to Graphic Design.  I only passed my classes because someone had to get a C.  The other students were way too talented to be considered mediocre.

My aunt, the one who has a shrine to her son, did not even save the portrait I drew of her beloved offspring.

That ought to tell you something.

Despite rejection, sneers, and a bundle of extra worthless college credits, I continued in my pursuit of creative genius.  I have a six-foot long, 2 foot wide afghan.  My husband says it belongs in a Mexican restaurant.  The colors do suit a quesadilla, but who can use a blanket that’s only two feet wide, if that?  Tacos and beans generally don’t make a person skinny enough to stay warm under my blanket-ette.

And now, I’m certain my children inherited this tenacious gene.  Did you see our chickens?  Or worse, the cows?  My international cow??

When will the madness end?

Not anytime soon if my son can help it.

He’s officially creating practical and very usable duck tape art.

At least they make pretty duck tape nowadays, because he’s in the wallet making business.

Can’t beat something made in the U.S.A.

They are durable, large enough to fit quite the money roll, and water-resistant…not to mention the lovely color that matches my nail-polish almost perfectly.

What more can you want or need in a wallet?

He asked if he can get a credit card to go in his designated card slot.  I told him he has a library card and he’s already overdue on that bill.  There will be no credit cards for many, many years to come.

I wish John’s Wallet Co., Made in the U.S.A., much success – more than even my mason jar lamps.

FringeBoy declined a photo shoot with his wallet.

What about you and your family?  Do you too share this tenacious creative gene?

BTW here is the nail polish FringeKid and I are loving.

There’s nothing like having disco-ball nails on a dreary winter day.  They turn SAD to G-L-A-D.

Write that down.

The Thrill of The Find

20 Feb

I considered taking a week off from blogging, because winter only provides so much blogging fodder.  It’s not that it’s boring (because of my children, I’ve banned boring from our vocabulary), it just gets a little dull.  There are only so many times I can say, it snowed today, while I sat in front of the woodstove and constantly fed it logs.

via Pinterest, from Goodstuff

It gets dull.

I could tell you that my son had the stomach virus for 3 days last week, or that my daughter spent all of Sunday violently vomiting, or that I’ve taken to hanging a Clorox wipe from my belt loop and swiping everything/everyone within arm’s reach.

I just don’t want to relive those moments in detail.  And I suspect, neither do you.

I planned on mentioning that we escaped the sick house for a few hours on Saturday night and went to the mall.  It was cold, snowing like mad, and it was the only place we could let my newly healed son get some of his bugs out.  When a twelve year-old spends three days in the house, he has bugs he needs to free.  Before the snow came, he and his friend went on a cold bike ride, but that wasn’t enough.

You know times were desperate, because FringeMan suggested walking around the mall.  He’s allergic to malls.  More specifically, he’s allergic to my spending money in malls.

I was going to show you my two great deals of the day, but then I thought this old blog was experiencing too long a shallow slump, so I scrapped the idea.  Until I read this post.  Finally, I found validation for my red clearance sticker.

I snagged the most adorable pair of pink patent shoes for my daughter.  They will look delightful this spring.

I’m really digging the orange strap.  For $7.48, they were a must buy.  My children go through an awful lot of shoes, especially considering they only have two feet each.  It’s like wild monkeys chew on their shoes all day.  That’s what it looks and smells like.

Then I was browsing through the clearance rack in the Gap, and I spotted this t-shirt.

I thought it as a good deal at $5 dollars and change, but it rang up at $2 dollars and change.

I know it’s a teensy-bit neon, but I figured I could exercise in it.

Ha!

I know.

It just sounded really noble in the moment.

Do you shop between seasons?

Buy last year’s almost outdated goods at a fraction of the price?

Share your recent find in the comments.

And if you forgot to suggest something ridiculous for me to try, go HERE.

The Day My Cell Phone Aged Me

15 Feb

This past weekend I lost my cell phone.  Since it was my birthday, I chalked it up to age and hoped my next mishap wasn’t losing my teeth.

Don’t worry about the cell phone.  My son found it for me.  I think children are hard-wired to locate items of modern technology.  It’s a skill similar to radar devices that detect heat-seeking missiles.

But, on Saturday, my phone was lost.

I wasn’t worried.  You see, I haven’t spent money on a phone in years.  Oh, I pay for the service, just not the telephone.  It’s my dirty little secret.  I collect, some say hoard, old cell phones and chargers.  I take all the reject phones from friends and family and put them to good use.  I like to think of myself as a recycler rather than a techno-moocher.

Saturday was my big birthday shopping excursion and I found myself in a mall that makes a football stadium seem small.  I took FringeKid and told my husband and son I’d give them a call later and we could meet up for a bite to eat in the food court.  I discovered my missing phone when hunger pangs struck.

Since I was near H&M, I figured I’d browse and then ask a clerk to use the phone.  The young men behind the counter broke out into laughter when I inquired about a phone.  Apparently a person without a cell phone is a like a person without ears, only more hysterical.

So I set out in search of an older, wiser, hopefully more helpful sales clerk.  Lord & Taylor was nearby.  Generally when I go into a store like Lord & Taylor, I am ignored.  Maybe they recognize the Target clothes on me.   I guess I look like I cannot afford their merchandise, and it’s mostly true.  My daughter usually gives us away when she picks up a price-tag and yells $298 dollars!  It’s all awe and wonder for her.  She’s only familiar with $19.99.

So I found a lovely clerk at the makeup counter, mustered my courage and asked.

“Excuse me.  I have a crazy request for you.  I seem to have misplaced my cell phone, and I am wondering if I can borrow the store phone for a quick call?”

“That’s not too crazy.”  She said.  “Believe me, I’ve had people ask for worse things.”

“Really?  Worse than asking for a store phone, because the guy with the eight inch gauged earlobes in H&M thought that was a request from some time in space, like way back in the 90′s or something.”

Stuck in an aging gloom that wrinkle cream couldn’t help, I considered all the outdated things I cling to.  I mean, I still have a VCR in my house.  I felt technologically stunted, deficient in the new ways of an ever-changing world.  I felt like my cell-phone came with an antenna.

I was aging right in front of my ten year-old baby girl, and feeling older than my usual twenty-nine until a women in Macy’s stopped me and asked for my help.

“Excuse me dear.  Do you know how to work a cell phone?”  She asked.

“Well the nineteen year-old in H&M doesn’t think so, but let me give it a try.”

She explained how she was trying to take a picture of some leopard-print stilettos for her daughter, but couldn’t get her cell-phone to cooperate.  I grabbed the phone, scrolled through the options, flipped it over in my hand and said, “I’m so sorry, but your phone doesn’t have a camera.”

In that moment, all the pieces of my old-fashioned world fell into place.  I knew there was hope for me and my outdated technology, because my lost cell-phone has a camera.  I wanted to hug that woman with the antique cell phone.  She gave me the greatest gift of all – my youth.

A Reason for my Sanity

14 Feb

Sanity is a touchy subject.  Some of us think we’re sane, but really we’re tip-toeing on the balance-beam of crazy.  You know?

Photo via Facebook

If any of you ever visit the old blog and don’t picture me with a thousand tiny marbles rolling all helter-skelter in my head, it’s because I have a fabulous family.

I mean it.

I am so blessed.

I don’t just feel love on Valentine’s Day, although that’s nice, I get to enjoy their love every single day.

Why just this week…

FringeBoy had two small bags of m&m’s and hand-made birthday card waiting for me at the breakfast table.

FringeKid made me one of her famous queen cards.

FringeMan came home for lunch and took me out to Subway – Eat Fresh & Love Your Wife – should be their new slogan.

FringeKid bought her brother a book from the school book fair.  With her own money.

FringeMan chopped me a bunch of wood and did not complain about how often I feed the stove.

FringeBoy looked for and found my lost cell phone.

This Valentine’s Day, I’m thinking about all the people who make my life wonderful.  It doesn’t matter if you’re married, single, widowed, divorced, or too young/old to care, you can celebrate Valentine’s Day.  I know there’s someone who could use an extra-special I Love You from you.

HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY

XOXOXO

P.S.  If you need a laugh, my son said THIS last Valentine’s Day.

My Birthday Saga, Part II

14 Feb

“You better put some shoes on, it’s cold outside.”  I warned my daughter while she sat on the couch, her dangling legs swinging back and forth.

“No.  It’s ok.  I’m wearing flip-flops today.”

“It’s F-E-B-R-U-A-R-Y in New York.”  I cautioned.

“I wanna wear them.”

So I let her wear them.  I don’t know if I’m the kind of parent who understands a girl simply has to make her own fashion choices, or if I know that sometimes a ten year-old only learns to wear shoes after getting frostbite on her toes, or if I just didn’t feel like arguing over flip-flops on my birthday.  I suspect it’s the latter.  At any rate, FringeKid wore flip-flops on Saturday.   It was snowing by two o’clock in the afternoon, and it did not stop snowing until the wee hours of Monday morning.

As a surprise for my birthday, FringeMan took me to a great big wonderful mall in Syracuse and got us a hotel room for the night.  Now before your mind goes and gets all romantic, we took the children, the flip-flop wearing children.  It was a little like being on vacation, only we were still in our dreary home state.

I generally don’t vacation in places with snow, at least not while it’s on the ground, but I’m glad this weekend was an exception.  I needed nothing more than a shopping trip and a night away from the laundry and dishes.

Despite my swollen foot and the ugly paint-spattered sneakers I was forced to wear, FringeKid and I must have walked five miles.  My mission was to find a great bag.

I wanted a good bag.  I wanted leather, but I soon found out that I could only afford a tissue size purse in leather.  My internal radar zoned in on every single purse bound to the display racks with a chain.   Needless to say I didn’t walk away with one of those bags; however, I did find a lovely purse in my price range.  It’s not leather, but as a consolation, it came with a free umbrella.

So without further ado, I present to you The Yellow Bag.

Yes, I like big bags.  I carry a lot of junk.

I noticed the color in these photos is very different.  The true color is a mustard yellow.

To make my birthday complete, I found my shoes on Amazon for $20 dollars cheaper than I originally planned.  I love a bargain.

So tell me, do you like to carry a large bag filled with everything but the kitchen sink, or a small, tidy purse with only the essentials?

My Birthday Saga, Part I

13 Feb

My birthday weekend began with chocolate covered strawberries and ended with chicken parmesan.  Thanks to FringeMan, it was pretty much perfect.

In the quest to accept another number and a few more gray hairs while keeping my sanity dignity intact, I hosted a Pampered Chef party on Friday night.  There’s nothing like kitchen-ware to make a woman feel young.

So not true, but it was fun to host a little party and watch as another woman cooked white chicken chili in my house.  For a moment, I knew how it would feel to have my own personal chef – Pure Unadulterated Bliss.  I could handle not having to scrounge through the cabinets at five-thirty wondering what in the world I’m going to create for dinner.

After everyone went home and  FringeMan and I finished consuming the leftover strawberries, I sat down to remove my sock and slipper.  Yes, I did wear slippers to my party, but in my bad-fashion defense, my foot tried to put me in one of those motorized scooters before my thirty-seventh birthday.  It swelled up like a plump tomato ready to burst through its skin on a sunny day in August.  It was hot and it hurt.  Did I mention the pain I ignored until ten o’clock at night?

A lump seemed to be forming on the bone about a half-inch under my toe, but it was hard to tell.  The swelling camouflaged any specific cause.  After elevating my foot with a bag of frozen vegetables on top, FringeMan thought I should go get it get it checked out.  You see, we had plans to go away on a little overnight the next day.  For my BIRTHDAY!

So I went.

Holding my foot in his hand, the doctor ran through a list of diseases that ranged from allergic reactions to a cyst that may need to be drained.  I stopped him briefly at flesh-eating disease.  You don’t utter words that may cause my skin to drip off my bones twenty-four hours before my birthday.  I think there’s an oath about that.

In the end, the doctor said, “I don’t know what it is, but your foot seems pretty pissed off.”

A pissed off foot – my official diagnosis.  So I went home armed with ice-packs, Advil, and a prescription for antibiotics in case my flesh began melting, or eating, or any other devilish pre-birthday verb.

I know you’re wondering what my foot looks like now…the swelling is gone, but I’m left with a hard knot on the top of my foot and it still hurts.  I’ll have to call and make a doctor’s appointment, but for a few more minutes, I’m going to hope that it disappears as quickly as it came to dash my hope of buying cute shoes for my birthday.

Remember these?

Seychellis Asterisk Tan/Red

I didn’t buy them.  Yet.  I’m waiting on my foot before I send $67.99 sailing through the internet.

On Saturday, I did manage to find something fabulous though, but alas, I’ve used too many words.  You’ll have to wait for My Birthday Saga, Part II.

Thank you for all the warm birthday wishes.  I am blessed.

A Touch of Spring

7 Feb

Yesterday was around forty-eight degrees and sunshiny.  In February!

I actually walked to the doctors to get my allergy shots.  My daughter insisted that it was too hot for shoes, so she dug out her flip-flops from the back of the closet.  She also refused to wear a coat.

“It smells like spring.”  She said.  “I don’t even think it’s going to snow again.”

Let’s hope she is right.  Who needs some dumb ole’ groundhog when you’ve got a child in flip-flops!

I kept my socks on my feet, because I’m not quite as brave and carefree as my daughter.  Sometimes it’s hard to believe that only a few short years ago, I was afraid she wouldn’t find her voice.

Now, to my enjoyment, she will not stop using it.  I like learning all the trivial details about her classmates, and I know her teacher’s eating habits.  That clearly gives me a one-up during teacher/parent conferences.  Don’t you think?

Apples – Candy – Coffee

I totally believe the goodness of the apples cancel out all ill effects from sugar + caffeine.

I’ve got your back Teach!

This weekend my little girl used her birthday money to buy a pair of glasses to use as a fashion accessory.  The arms of the glasses are a pink and black splotches and they have little rhinestones in the corners.  I just want to know why her frames cost $10.50 in Claires and my cheap plastic frames cost $127.50 at the eye center.  Sometimes life just isn’t fair.

She also grew a colorful clump of feathers.   She’s pretty much a diva in the making.  I’m just hoping she’s right about spring.

How’s the weather in your part of the world?

Sunday’s Injustice & A Moment of Silence

6 Feb

A moment of silence please for the Patriots fans.

************************moment*************************

Superbowl Sunday was a little weird for me, and that’s saying something, because let’s face it, my ‘normal’ is just little off.  If I say it’s weird, it’s weird.

Yesterday morning FringeMan wasn’t preaching anywhere, so we visited a church on recommendation from a lady at the bank.  It’s just one service, right?  Why not go?

I knew something was terribly amiss when I walked through the front doors and a lovely woman with a kind smile, shoved a clip-board into my hands and ordered me to write the names of everyone in my family.  No names = no entry to the auditorium.

I felt a little spooked.

I’m just being honest here.  If your church does the ‘throw a clipboard in the visitor’s face and ask them to sign away the lives of their children’, I’m not judging.  I’m simply saying it made my spidey-senses go on edge.

I’m ok with the visitor card thing.  At least with those, I can take the card back to my seat and decide whether I want to fill out my real name and address or my neighbors.

For the record, I’ve never really done that, but it’s not a bad idea.

Things got a mite stranger from there on out, so let’s just say, I didn’t allow my kids to drink the Kool-Aid.

Enough said.

Let’s move on to the big news of the day – GIANTS WIN THE SUPERBOWL!

Coupled with yesterday’s post, you may get the impression I’m a die-hard football fan.  First impressions can be deceiving.  I didn’t even know who was playing in the Superbowl until Saturday night.  In all reality, the only thing I find remotely attractive about Superbowl Sunday is the snacks.  I know, LOSER.

Yup.  That’s me.

L*O*S*E*R

Hang on, it totally gets worse.  By the end of this post, you’ll be shaking your heads and clicking “unsubscribe”.

I’m sure I mentioned we don’t have cable anymore.  We axed that about two years ago.  Television was sacrificed on the altar of saving money.  Did we save money, you ask?  Our lights are still on and we have heat.  Something must be working.

When the way we watched television changed a few years ago, we were promised an easy switchover.  Public television will live on, they said.  You only need a little box to bring reception to your screen, or a digital antennae for modern TV’s.

This may work for millions of Americans, but it does not work for the FringeFamily.  Last night we had the choice to watch a blank screen or use the laptop.  We set the laptop up in front of the TV and watched it stream.  All was good, except that I couldn’t see the tiny score at the bottom of the screen, even with my glasses, so I had to keep asking FringeMan the score.

I fell asleep.  Twice.  Then I got up and ate some garbage.  In desperate times tortilla chips with melted cheese do the job, probably not better than an energy drink, but I used what I had.

I did not go to bed until I heard my neighbor scream shouts of joy.

Now we all know the best part of the Superbowl is the commercials.  Guess what!  You don’t get to see the commercials when you stream the game.  I will Google them if I have the energy, but I’m warning you, it may require some more chips and cheese.

I also missed the half-time show.

I heard Madonna sang Material Girl.

Kidding.  I did watch her performance this morning, online of course.

I was totally impressed.  By her legs.  I mean, she’s like 3 days from a nursing home and she’s still got great legs.  Me – I’m years and years away from eating blended food and I walk around on tree stumps.  My library doesn’t have enough workout DVD’s to help me get legs like hers.

Ah, the injustice.

So tell me, what was your favorite commercial?

My Idea of a Super Bowl

5 Feb

Superbowl

The question on everyone’s mind -

GIANTS

or

patriots

I think you know where the FringeFamily stands in this bowl.

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