holding my breath . . . jumble of a story

I am sooooooooooooooo darn excited. Today we headed out to find a work surface for my new scrap room. Oooooh, can I please be presumptuous and call it a 'studio'. Pleeeeease. The first stop turned out to be a molding company . . . still wondering why the Lowe's guy sent us there. They could not help . . . with the work surface, but boy could they help us with the crown molding I want. Hooray. Nice people and they had the two cutest poodle/something pups. The first referral he sent us to did wholesale only, not so nice, but we fell in love with their 140 lb golden. Off to the second referral, we can hear the barking as we get out of the car . . . do you see a theme here? Again, nice people, and the very ancient, very sweet pooch looks part black border collie, part Heinz. Yes they can do me a work surface BUT, they can also design and install all the under counter cabinetry too. Said he would stop by this afternoon to measure. Called saying he was running a tad late . . . no problem. He arrives with folder in hand . . . design ready. Two work stations, three banks of drawers, one with a filing cabinet. I am overwhelmed. Can we really do this? I mean a REAL work space not just a door on two cabinets. I am overwhelmed. Did I mention that??? Shakily, I signed on the bottom line. WooEEEEE!!

we're getting there. . .

We went to Lowe's today to look at options for the desktop work space for my new scrap room. We did not fare well. Counter tops have lips that will not work, and doors are too short and would have to be pieced. Know anyone who makes a 10' 6" door??? But, the nice guy in that department gave us the name of a local vendor that might be able to help us. We will check them out tomorrow morning. Hooray!! Next stop, paint. WooEEEE!! Picked out two blues: the one I originally fell in love with and a slightly darker one just in case. And, the brown for the accent wall. Yep. BROWN. 'Cork board' brown to be exact. Their paint sample machine was sick and down for the count so I grabbed a handful of each paint chip, brought them home and with the help of a removable Hermie, stuck them to the wall. Hooray, it really is the lighter blue I want. Ah, but one more stop before leaving Lowe's, we headed to shelving and nicely displayed on a wall were the invisible support shelves I have been looking for. My stamps will have a home on the wall. Oh, I cannot wait.

In the meantime, Thursday, I pick up the last of the Jetmax cubes I ordered at ACMoore. Who knew they would special order the ones they did not carry? Thanks Katie, for making me ask. The brown accent wall will be broken up by a white 16 cube mass of storage space. Happy, happy.

OK, OK, we all know I am design challenged. And here I am on my own, let loose to pick out my own color scheme. Three blue walls, one brown wall, white trim with white wood slat window covers. I know it sounds odd. But keep your fingers crossed it works out.

Oh and for those with whom I shared the story of Katie, my Miata, the brakes and the saw stand, my neighbor who works part time in Lowe's one upped me. Her dh owns a race car he stores in their garage. Somehow he managed to pop it in gear sending it crashing into their wall, smashing everything in sight including piping!!!! Ouch.

now I know why they call them bucket seats . . .

Poor Bru. On top of his failing kidneys, I heard a heart wrenching cat scream night before last coming from the bathroom. I flew out of bed in time to see him literally relieving himself while balanced on the top of an open packing box of Katie's toiletries. Good Grief, Bru, why there??? But I have been around cats all my life and knew it was a pretty good indication that it was something physical especially since Bru has never been into paybacks like some other cat I might name . . . Snoop are you listening??? So first thing yesterday morning, I call the vet and they ask that I bring him in and leave him so they can fit him in. Now above all else, Bru hates the trip to the vets. Hates it, hates it, hates it. To make it easier on him, I have stopped using a cat carrier which he hates even more. So with car keys in one hand and cat tucked safely under the other arm, I get in the Miata, my precious "other" baby and back out of the garage. While waiting for the door to go back down, I smell an aroma. Come on now, you cat lovers know what I mean. It is the unmistakeable stench of cat urine. Huh? What? Where? I look over and Bru, embarrassed as can be, is staring at my now urine fill bucket seat. ACK!! I jump out, open the garage door, run inside, grab a towel and a tupperware jar and run back. Ya gotta love plastic when the bucket seat is holding up like a swimming pool. I swoop up a quick sample for the vet, drop down the towel, all the time making sure Bru is still in the car and has not escaped to wander the neighborhood. ACK!!.

Without further incident, Bru, I and one very stinky little red Miata get to the vet's office. I hate parting with him, even for a short time. Fast forward to early afternoon. The vet calls and as I suspected, Bru has a urinary track infection. Keeping Frank company because he has one as well. Sigh. So home comes Bru with antibiotics and pain medicine and off I go to find a bottle of Fabreeze . . . driving of course with the top down.

So, how was your day???? Snicker, snicker.

The Muppet Show -

This just cracks me up.

freedom at last . . .

. . after being trapped by rain, shackled to a computer rebuilding it from the rubble and up to my eyeballs in wizards and wands for the last several days, it was clearly time to escape. I had company, Katie, as well was feeling the need.

We turned north, top down, radio blaring Josh Groban, headed for the 'loop'. What is the loop you might well ask? The 'loop' is a long stretch of narrow winding road looping through the tidal basin. It is mostly covered by a canopy of trees and moss so thick it rarely lets in light even in late summer afternoon . . . clearing only when it hits the open water of the basin itself. Then it wobbles and meanders along the natural waterways weaving in and out along the canals. Those woods are full of deer, possum and coons . . . all visible when the headlights catch their eyes. A wild eerie place at night, a place one is drawn to. At one point the tree frogs were singing in such competition with Josh that we turned off the radio to listen to the cacophony. After finally turning east and crossing the inter coastal waterway, we have our choice of dropping down the river side of the barrier island or down the beach side. We opt for the river but yearn instead for the sea. Backtracking, we cross over to the ocean and drop down its southern route. The shrimp boats are out in force, gaily lit with colored lights marching up the masts and out the net poles. The moon is still murky from the wet skies and the smell is rich with salt. The view, only occasionally obscured by sea oats lining the side of the road, is a vista without compare. But soon we hit civilization and the appearance of the tattoo parlors, Handi-Mart and Pecker's Lounge mark the arrival of O' by the Sea. It is time to cross back over to the river side. Another winding road, this one marked by stately old homes, newly built monstrosities and a few smaller dwellings that have not yet been snapped up and doomed for demolition. We are finally back in town and crossing back over to the mainland, can still not yet face the abundance of traffic and light. Instead we drop yet further south on the far side of the river and finally turn west toward home on back streets. It has been a good night.

remember the velveteen rabbit . . .

. . . and how scruffy he looked because he was so well loved. Well, here is our version. Bru.

flowers in abundance . . .

Did you ever have so much to do that you just shut down and go for something entirely different? The house needs cleaning, there are errands to run, I still need to finish reloading all my songs on to iTunes, I'm half way through Harry Potter, and I can't get past a busy tone at Symantec . . . so what's a body to do? Flop on the bed, goodies in hand and make flowers. What am I going to use them for? Who knows . . . just nice to have something calming for my hands to do.

the dreaded blue screen . . .

yep, it was my turn. I booted up my desktop and there it was. The experience has taught me a few things besides the obvious mantra :::back up, back up, back up::: I have learned that . . .

*I may not understand outsourcing to India but a very kind, very patient man walked me through cleaning out my computer and reinstalling everything for FIVE hours this morning.

*When I was bereft about losing my cyber-space buddies birthday list, various copies have flown my way from the very friends whose names made it important.

*That it will take me a long time to realize just how much I lost and that none of it really matters when you think of the things in life that truly do. (I do miss my font collection, grocery list, Christmas photos and a few other goodies though.)

*That I am grateful that I also have a laptop and that it held all my 'favorite' sites safely through the storm.

*I am not a patient person. And that poor Minesh aka 'Joe' heard me go from 'I'm sorry, could you repeat that please', to 'I didn't catch that', to 'WHAT????!????' I am not exactly happy with myself right now.

So I am going to chalk this up to the learning experience that it is, pour myself a long tall potent potable and hope that it is a long, long cold day before I have to go though this again. And in the meantime, Snoop wants my lap, Katie is snoozing after staying up all night reading Harry, Frank is happily ensconced in front of some race on TV, Bru is gently snoring. And life in the cave is still good.

i'm a brat . . .

When Katie starts school again, we are donating the furniture in the loft to her new apartment which means I finally get the scrap room I've been wanting FOREVER. Meanwhile I have been dreaming of colors and although I originally thought I wanted just blue and white, aka Amanda's Scrapbook Room, I have now been thinking about doing one wall in a soft brown. That way I can introduce another accent color that is a little more universal. Think wicker, leather . . . So I ask Frank who has much better color sense, if brown and blue go together and he says not. Harrumph! Now those of you who know me, know I am going to circumvent that 'not' if humanly possible. Digging around, I find my Granny's Attic collection from SEI. Hey, that brown and blue looks pretty darn sweet. So I ask Frank again, showing him my newest project; one of those paper craft boxes I was playing with. His response? It does there. That's all I needed, my new room will be blue with white trim and a soft brown accent wall. Good thing he loves me!!!

good smelling stuff . . .

well, maybe not for all but I love the smell of fresh basil and garlic, I can still smell it on my fingers and the aroma is slowly wafting its way through the house. Happy, happy. Oh, and its for dinner tonight . . . has to be made early in the morning. A cold garlic, basil, tomato, olive oil topping served over warm pasta with stick bread. Yummy. Thanks Judy for reminding me I had the recipe!

Which also reminds me. Am I mad (as in insane, not angry, well maybe a bit of both)? Tomatoes these day are sadly a shadow of their former selves. As a kid, I grew up in northern New Jersey which at the time was mostly apple orchards, fruit farms, hidden lakes, deep woods, wandering brooks . . . a glorious place to be a kid. We would hop into the old station wagon and head for one of our favorite farms. You paid a dime or quarter, depending on the size of the basket and headed out to pick your own veggies. The tomatoes were red, firm, plump and juicy and the first thing we dove into when we got home. Armed with a salt shaker, we'd head out to the back deck, and leaning over the edge, we'd take the first big delicious bite, add a little salt and take another bigger bite, juice and seeds running down our arms. Heaven. Not so now. Grocery store tomatoes seem pulpy and tasteless. Is it true or just my mind remembering larger than life? Not to worry though, infused with the other ingredients, this recipe is still joy for the taste buds. And I get a whole day to inhale the goodness.

Giant Scary Bru . . .

I printed off this shot and fooled around with it. Frank's comment: That shot is scary . . . guess he doesn't like larger than life cats. But, Bru is his baby . . . said he'd would have preferred had I scrapped him with a plain dark frame, simple, elegant. Oops!

Its been so long . . .

since I have scrapped a 12x12. I just got enamored with being able to make my own albums, I guess I stopped dead on the larger format. Strange to be working with a medium that is not stiff. And I forgot how much I dislike losing part of a layout to a scan. Grrrr.

Anyway, I caught Bru and Katie napping together and fell in love with the shot.

Mission Impossible . . .

Day 1: Whilst pedaling through a rather upscale - in the process of being built - tony neighborhood . . . lots of grassed open space. I heard them before I saw them. You can't miss the raucous screeching of peacocks. Two pea hens. I was shocked. What in the world are two wild peacocks doing in the middle of a development in a not so rural (anymore) environment? They are on the ground, screaming at me but not moving. Where is my camera at a moment like this? But wait, I have my phone. Not that I know how to take pictures with it but I tried. Came home to show Katie who decided then and there that I needed a lesson on how to use my phone. The shots are worthless. In one, you can't even see the bird and in the other she is a rather large blur.

Day 2: Back in the neighborhood again, I could hear them before I could see them. They are across the street. But before I could get my phone out of my pocket, they took off. Amazing wing spreads. I wasn't even sure pea hens could fly. What was I thinking?

Day 3: I leave the house armed with my digital camera, hoping it will adjust to the change from a/c to 99.9% humidity before I get to my destination. No sounds. Of course not. Harrrumph. So as I continue riding, I catch something over my left shoulder. She is coming in for a landing. Enormous wingspan - she is stunning - graceful - except of course for the silly Dr. Seuss crown on her head. While I think she is going to land on the ground, she fools me and lands in a tree. How can something so ungainly on the ground be so graceful in the air. I am so surprised, my camera is useless. I will finish my ride through the neighborhood and come back and catch her on the ground. HA! She has moved but only to another tree top. Only her head, crown slicked back is sticking out. I take a shot but not the one I want.

Stay tuned for Days 4 - 7392. I will get my shot. Hopefully.

So cool . . .

. . . from Lisa who so kindly shared . . . I just love the concept. Back in the dark ages of elementary school and Brownie cameras, we had an assignment to take a roll of film and try to capture unusual images. ie, have someone stand on a post while second person stands in front, covering the post so it appears that subject one is balanced on subject two's head. I will have to dig around and see if I can still find our pitiful attempts. But again, I love the concept. Time to take my 'slightly' updated camera and see what I can do.

good stuff . . .

I am so visual, I sometimes forget about the sense of smell. So, I was surprised when I opened the garage door to start my morning bike excursion and was assailed by the dank musky aroma of overly wet earth. Not an unpleasant smell, but strong and visceral. A good smell. A thought provoking smell . . . so I lingered for a moment. Starting on my way I discovered one of the neighbors mowing his lawn. While I love the smell of new mown grass, this was a richer, deeper aroma. I stopped pedaling and coasted by slowly, inhaling with delight. Out on the road, the concrete pavement was still drying from its nighttime dampness and a more acrid unpleasant stench was rising. As I swung into a newly started development with lots of cleared land surrounded by woods, I thought I could detect the dampness of the leaves and grass: a loaminess that rose up and surrounded me. I couldn't help but inhale the essence of the earth. Heading back home I passed a thin old man, hunched over his decrepit lawn mower, adding oil and immediately that warm, sickly sweet, greasy tang wafted over to me and I finally realized how loaded this world is with flavor and how rapidly I move through it with my windows closed. Resolution: Stop and smell those proverbial roses. It really does a soul good.

. . aliens from the planet Mercury . .

. . I swear, I am just going to slap a 'wild life refuge' sign in my back yard and charge admission. This is not the 100 acre woods. It is maybe a 25 feet deep easement between our neighborhood and the nursing home behind us. And actually, I am not complaining at all. I love the nightly visitors, and Snoop spent the first 18 months of his life in that swatch of land. I just think it stinks that they are getting so crowded out by development. Frank swears some day we are going to look out back and find a bear. YIKES.

. . . liar, liar . . .

. . . I said, "Never again", would I do a project for the RSS. For some reason, I find it nerve racking. Not the process, I love that. But the "will she like it' part. Almost as bad as the dentist. So now I have to wait until Wednesday to turn it in to find out. ACK!