Tuesday, February 26, 2008

Two In A Row!


This is my completed "P" banner. The cat is sitting among the argyle clouds.

Better Late Than Never!


I am participating in the Spring Banner Challenge hosted at Lisa's blog from Simple Journeys. My entry is a week over due because I was too timid to post it. It does not compare to the others. It is supposed to look like a cat dreaming about Spring.

Sunday, February 24, 2008

Bonafide 1980's Mullett


Check this out, Ladies and Gents. This is a bonafide, genuine, 1980's mullett. You can stop laughing at anytime. I was looking through some pictures trying to recall what my natural hair color 'was'. It has been so long since I have seen it, that I honestly do not remember. Well, I can tell you what the natural color 'is' now but that is not the color I am trying to 'recall'. That is the color I am trying to 'forget'! The natural color of it now is white as anyone can tell by looking at the roots of it. Anyway, even though this 'hair do' (I use that term loosely when referring to this coiffure) in this picture is really, really bad, this is the natural color it was once. I am going to tell Nikki to strive toward more this 'mouse' shade of brown rather than the 'black as coal' brown that she used the last time. Another aspect that this picture demonstrates is that no matter what I weigh, I have at least 4 chins! Wish me luck with my hair! I gave up on my weight years ago.

Friday, February 22, 2008

Neat Find!




I came across a neat picture on ancestry.com that I had never seen before of my mom, sister and grandmother. I like to look at it and imagine what kind of day it was. I never knew my grandmother. I have only ever seen her picture. I will print this picture and take to my mom so she can see it. It will make her very happy.

Monday, February 18, 2008

Peyote Cuff Bracelet


This is called a Peyote Cuff Bracelet. I made this out of ToHo Japanese seed beads using a stitch called the Peyote stitch. The worst part about making this bracelet is putting on the fastener. The only way the clasp can be attached is by gluing it with E6000 because the beads are glass and any other method would break them. Besides being extremely sticky, E6000 stinks. I prefer projects that do not require jewelry glue.

Sunday, February 17, 2008

Quilt an Accomplishment!


Check out what Shelly and I have created for Carol. I can tell you who submitted each one of those hearts for Carol's quilt. Her friends submitted hearts to be made into one single quilt so that she can have it to remind her of all the women who love her and are standing behind her while she is getting well. Shelly did all the really hard parts. Mostly, I just ironed and played with the dogs!

Tuesday, February 5, 2008

Mardi Gras


A nice lady at work with ties to New Orleans brought two very delicious kingcakes for us to enjoy and we did! Yes, it really was Fat Tuesday which means Iwill have an even fatter Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, well, you get the picture. These king cakes we had today were good, kind of like coffee cake with gooey caramel and pecans in the center. Apparently, this nice lady knows where to get the good king cake hook up. As I was munching on my king cake, I began to drift away into a memory of king cakes past. King cake always reminds me of my little niece, Elizabeth. I never will forget one year, my sister, Carla decided to do something a little different, something extra special for Elizabeth's birthday. Elizabeth is her granddaughter. At some point in time, Carla apparently had a very tastey king cake like the one I had today and thought it would be very special to order a king cake straight from New Orleans for Elizabeth's birthday party. Sometimes Mardi Gras and her birthday coincide, not this year, but sometimes they do. Carla supposedly had the name of a reputable king cake baker so she thought. She either called the place or ordered it off the Internet. I am not sure which. At any rate, she ordered a king cake by some method to be delivered via mail for Elizabeth's birthday. See anything wrong here? A cake in the mail? Hello! How does that work? Apparently not so well. Carla had the big delivery box on the dining table and we were all ganged 'round waiting for the unveiling of the KING CAKE! Whoopee, right? Par-tay down! Wrong. When the box was opened, we were all a bit stunned, taken aback or should I say, disappointed. It must have been a typically warm Louisiana-Texas winter because all of what had once been the lovely purple, green, and gold refined sugar sprinkled atop the king cake had all melted combining into one black, shiney mess. It looked sad. Nobody said anything. We just all looked at each other in silence. Then, the small, quiet voice of Elizabeth says "Oh,Mimi, I am not eating any of that. That looks awful." She was right, it did look like merde. (French for not so good.) I can still see her standing there looking at that pitiful cake. She was kind of holding her face with a worried look like someone had just delivered the news that a giant meteor was on a collision course with Earth. Fortunately, we had some other type of dessert to imbibe. The king cake was just supposed to be the piece de resistance. (French for disaster.) To make bad matters worse, we sorted all through that cake and there wasn't even a baby in it. I figure the baby took one look at that thing and R-U-N-N O-F-T.

Monday, February 4, 2008

My Oliver


I really was not in the market for another cat. I had just about had my fill of them to tell you the truth. My cats were getting older; Rusty, Claude, Max and Abbey. Then, one evening when I just arrived home from work, I hear the sounds of a loud, distraught kitten meowing from my backyard. I immediately looked out back to see what was going on and I saw the cutest, tiniest little red kitten wandering around on my patio. I opened the door and he ran like the wind over the fence. Still, I could hear his cries. This was clearly a case of a baby being lost from his mother. I felt he would reconnect with her sooner or later, hopefully, sooner. In a few short minutes, he was back on the patio. I tried to grab him but he ran the other direction. Then, suddenly, the meowing stops. He found his mom or his home and I was so glad. I would not have to worry about that little guy again. Wrong! In a couple of weeks, Emily, the little red baby's mother began bringing him around. They looked so cute together. This was really my first experience with Emily. I think Oliver was her first baby. She only had the one kitten and she looked very young herself. She was a good mom. She watched attentively over him. She would let him climb all over her and bite and kick like the babies do. Then one day, Emily was gone. Not hide nor hair was to be seen of her. Just the little Oliver remained. He would come up on my patio and look in the window at me. I would see him outside playing with rocks and pieces of grass just improvising toys. He was so small. What else could I do but make sure he had water and food? When I would go outside to give him supper, he would cautiously walk toward me. I could set his food down and he would let me sit by him while he ate. After doing this routine for a few days while he was eating, I picked him up. He purred and purred. HE LIKED ME! I just hated leaving the small ball of fluff outside. Some nights it was cold and I worried about the little fellow. After I would go inside, he would head off to the fence where he had located a safe place to sleep. All I had to do to retrieve him was open the back door and his little head would pop up over the fence at the noise of the door opening. He would look to see if his 'girl' was there. This went on for awhile until one night it came a hail storm. I so worried about the little Oliver. I was afraid he would be hit by a speeding hail ball. I told myself that if he survived the hailstorm that I would make him mine. I think it is obvious by his picture that he survived and he is mine! He is Nigel's half brother. As mischeivious as Nigel is, Oliver makes up for it by being as sweet. Plus, there is a bit of affection transference going on with the red Nigel and red Oliver from my old boy, red Rusty who passed shortly after Oliver's adoption. Everything I felt for my Russ, I transferred over to my Nige and Oliver. They have my sweet Russ to thank for their new home. ~Cindy

The Red Shoes



The color red fascinates me. Probably because long ago, I had some red shoes. I do not mean orange shoes. I do not mean burgundy shoes. (Some people call burgundy shoes, purple shoes. You know who you are.) I mean bright red, true red, tomato red patent leather shoes. I was all of about 3 or 4 years old when I pranced around in these bright red, mary jane style patent dreams believing that just because I wore them something magical might just happen. They were truly extraordinary shoes. I could see myself in these shoes, they were so shiny. They were hands down the most beautiful shoes I had ever laid eyes on. Of course, I had not laid eyes on much at that age. Plus, I might take this opportune time to mention here that we were what you might call "poor folk". I had a dress made out of a piece of material that looked like blackwatch plaid that I wore with these shoes. When I wore this 'outfit', I felt like a movie star.(Not sure which one.) When I really wanted to 'glam it up', I added a white sweater to this gorgeous ensemble.You get the picture. I was snazzy. Well, days and probably years went by (at the minimum months) and my dress became tighter and my shoes were beginning to hurt. However, I never mentioned this point to Mom. I was going to wear these shoes forever. Each time I put them on, it became more of a challenge as to where I was going to put my toes. I would try squeezing them into a ball. I would scrape the back of my heels off trying to pound my feet into these shoes. Finally, the day came when it just was not going to happen anymore. I screamed my head off. How would I get by in the world without my shoes? Mom tried to console me by telling me that we would look for another pair just like them. Yeah, but when??? I did not have to wait all that long before we went shopping (searching) for another pair. (Probably because I nagged about it day in and day out.) Mom took me to every shoe store she could think of and then some. Upon walking in the door she would inquire 'Do you have red shoes for her?' and would point at me. They would sadly shake their heads but offer up other colors. No, only red would do. At the final store we could find (dig up), they told us they did not have red shoes for me either. They could only offer silver shoes. Mom asked (begged) 'you would like silver, wouldn't you???' I said no. I only wanted red ones!!! Only red! Why no red? They had red once. Was there a shortage on red dye? She finally convinced me to get silver shoes. She used the argument that my sister, Carla, had gotten some shoes of a very similar color for her prom. I said okay but the silver shoes just didn't do it for me. I did wear them but they never had any magic. The magic was gone. The silver shoes were pretty but ordinary. Okay, here comes the happy ending! Many years have passed but now, I have red shoes again. They are exactly the same color as the first ones I had. They are magic too! What is more, now I even have a magic red purse!~Cindy



My Nige


Both Oliver and Nigel came to me by way of the backyard. Their mother was a sweet, little red tabby who was extremely shy. I called her Emily. When she first began to live under my oleandar bush, she would not even make eye contact with me when I would go outside to give her some friskies. In the beginning, she did not stay in my yard all of the time. She would only stay long enough to deposit one of her young children. When it came time for her to give up a child and go on about her feral way in the great big world, she had decided that I would make a great adoptive mom for her kids. The first one she ever left with me was Oliver. That is another story for another day. Today, I am talking about "the Nige" or Nigel. The reason I am talking about him first is because he is truly unique. Sometimes I do not even think he is a full blood cat. I think he is a mix between a cat and some other wild creature maybe like a sabre-toothed tiger. He looks like a little baby hippopotamus running around here. He is very big and muscular in the hind quarters and only has a stump of a tail. Truthfully, I think he may be part Manx. At any rate, he is very pretty but oh no, he is not sweet. The young lad is like a bull in a china closet. The only time he is still is when he is asleep. He can tear up more in one day than I can earn $ to buy in a week. Destructive is not a strong enough term for the damage he can inflict on my house and material possessions. He does not mean to be wild or evil or even a pain in the bootey. He just does it naturally because that is who he is. He cannot even walk by a book without immediately launching his body at it then passionately shredding and ripping all of the pages from it. Plus, he is a thief. He has stolen my watch on several occassions but so far, I have always managed to locate it. Once, he stole my watch and I found it in my shoe. Also, did I tell you that he hates me? He does. He gives me the 'evil eye' at the rare times when he is being quiet and thoughtful. I will catch him looking at me with this look on his face like "If only that lady would go away and leave us this house all to ourselves, we could really PAR-TAY!" The only time the little cuss will let me hold him is at supper time. Then, I can pick him up and hold him and cuddle him and he gets his little purring motor running like a generator. At those times, I can catch glimpses of the possibility that he 'might' have some degree of affection for me in there somewhere but it is definately linked to food. It is probably only the food, in fact. But, I do love him so.~Cindy

Saturday, February 2, 2008

Las Vegas


I love Las Vegas. I am not much of a gambler but I do love bright lights and all of the glitz and gaudiness of Vegas. Plus, I love the great stores and beautiful shops. One of my fave spots in Vegas is the Caesars Palace Forum Shops. Another great place with fantastic shops is the Desert Passage in what is now Planet Hollywood but used to be The Alladin. The shows in Las Vegas are the really great thing to do. "Beatles Love" is so fantastic. It is very emotional. While you are watching it, you are totally engulfed in the experience of it. This is a picture of LeaAnn, Carla and me when we stayed at The Paris. We had just gotten back from seeing "The Red Piano". I liked it at The Paris a lot and LeaAnn did too. For some reason though, it did not particularly appeal to Carla. Probably because they did not have any great coffee shops there. We walked about a hundred miles down in the tunnel between The Paris and Balley's trying to locate a Starbucks and we never did find it. We saw it one time when we weren't looking for coffee and then we were never able to locate it again. We began to wonder if we just imagined it kind of like a lost soul out in the desert might see a mirage. We were in the desert afterall. ~Cindy

Ground Hog Day 2008


This morning I was looking out the window just as the sun was coming up. The day was like an early Spring day when mist is heavy in the air as the sun begins to burn through it. One solitary little bird was singing in the quiet of the morning. No other sounds, just the little bird singing his heart out but in the still of the day, the sound was more beautiful and haunting than if it had been later when everything is loud and no one would have noticed. I like to focus all of my attention on one thing such as that then completely appreciate it. If I can do that with one aspect of nature per day, it is super great.. "I heard a bird sing in the dark of December, a magical thing and sweet to remember."(author unknown)~Cindy