Betsey Johnson & The Silver Sixties
Great interview with Betsey Johnson on her early work with Paraphernalia, Edie Sedgwick and the Warhol Factory.
Roxy Roller
My cousin got a Golden Retriever puppy a few weeks ago. So today Roxy, Amanda and Kelsey met me for a very cold photo shoot. I checked the weather, sunny, but I didn't check the temperature, -7 with the windchill. Emily came too because no one can resist this face!
I'm pretty sure I have the prettiest cousins out there. Roxy and 'mom'.
Roxy and 'Auntie Kelsey'.
The outtake.
The end.
Holidays...
'The road to success is always under construction'
I liked the quote above because it really illuminates concisely that life is not a fixed entity!
The break has been great. I was working my butt off until christmas, and now I am due on prac soon so I am heading up the (windy, cold and raining) ironically named Sunshine Coast for some (possible) km's.
The Brisbane weather is shocking...the most rain we've had here for 150 years (according to people in the know), and we returned home from christmas down south to a flooded and damp house.
The weather in NSW was amazing though...
Some pictures from Christmas
Last year I wanted one of Yolanda's stuffed animals, and mom tried to get one but for whatever reason, it didn't work out. When I saw Yolanda at work last week, I never thought twice about it when my mom said something about money and took a bag back to the lunch room. So when I opened my presents, this Angry Beaver was a complete surprise!
Eclipse
I took this picture soon after the lunar eclipse began on December 21, 2010. This was the first time a total lunar eclispe occurred the same day as the winter solstice since 1638.
Acting Out - Bonnie Smetts
Dr. Shari couldn’t possibly admit he hated his patients. After all they were children, the children of the wealthy English. He lived a luxurious life thanks to them. But each morning he dreaded their arrival, their screaming and yelling and acting out with never a nanny or mother to stop them.
He peered out the window of his empty waiting room. He was happy that the garden outside offered him peace. The trees dripped with red blooms. Soon the birds would come to suck their nectar, if only for a week before they disappeared for the year. Someone said they went to Kashmir. He laughed, wondering if there were another dentist caring for cretin white children who also survived on seeing his birds. Their blue feathers and puffed-up breasts tinted a peach as if from a reflection.
“Good morning, Dr. Shari.” It was his nurse, always so happy, always so plump. “Ready for today?”
Had he forgotten something particularly horrible, some child with a mouthful of cavities? She saw his expression. “I mean good morning and are we ready for a wonderful day.”
He wasn’t, he surely wasn’t.
He followed his nurse to the area behind the waiting room, toward the sanctity of his office where no one, not even his nurse was allowed. She handed him a list and he started to look the patients who he’d have the pleasure of seeing today. He stopped in mid-step. Charlotte. That odd girl who frightened him. She looked at him while he worked. She was the only child, Indian or white, who’d ever watched him while he drilled and filled her cavities. As if she was seeing his soul. He could not see his soul and he was sure he didn’t want this peculiar child seeing it either. She unnerved him. He’d almost prefer one of those wild boys who his assistant had to hold down just to get them to sit still.
The phone rang. Now seated in the safety of his office, he could hear voices start to fill the waiting room. He could hear Miss Mimma talk to the incoming monsters. And their mothers.
He jumped at the soft knock on his office door. “Dr. Shari, your first patient is in Room One and ready for you.”
He peered out the window of his empty waiting room. He was happy that the garden outside offered him peace. The trees dripped with red blooms. Soon the birds would come to suck their nectar, if only for a week before they disappeared for the year. Someone said they went to Kashmir. He laughed, wondering if there were another dentist caring for cretin white children who also survived on seeing his birds. Their blue feathers and puffed-up breasts tinted a peach as if from a reflection.
“Good morning, Dr. Shari.” It was his nurse, always so happy, always so plump. “Ready for today?”
Had he forgotten something particularly horrible, some child with a mouthful of cavities? She saw his expression. “I mean good morning and are we ready for a wonderful day.”
He wasn’t, he surely wasn’t.
He followed his nurse to the area behind the waiting room, toward the sanctity of his office where no one, not even his nurse was allowed. She handed him a list and he started to look the patients who he’d have the pleasure of seeing today. He stopped in mid-step. Charlotte. That odd girl who frightened him. She looked at him while he worked. She was the only child, Indian or white, who’d ever watched him while he drilled and filled her cavities. As if she was seeing his soul. He could not see his soul and he was sure he didn’t want this peculiar child seeing it either. She unnerved him. He’d almost prefer one of those wild boys who his assistant had to hold down just to get them to sit still.
The phone rang. Now seated in the safety of his office, he could hear voices start to fill the waiting room. He could hear Miss Mimma talk to the incoming monsters. And their mothers.
He jumped at the soft knock on his office door. “Dr. Shari, your first patient is in Room One and ready for you.”
Acting Out - E. D. James
Alan stood on the chair at the head of the table and tucked his hands into his armpits and then curled up the toes of his all-stars and looked down at them, “This is how the Emperor Penguin holds his egg in the middle of an Antarctic blizzard.”
He saw the faces around the table snicker nervously, unsure of what his next move would be. He swelled with the attention, enjoyed the fact that they weren’t sure what he might do next.
A waiter maneuvered to his side, “Sir, the chairs are meant to sit on, only.”
“My dear man, I’ve got to be careful of the egg on my feet, I can’t just hop off of here on your whim,” he said and hunched a bit more as if the winds of the blizzard were strengthening.
Alan watched the waiter glance around nervously. The other diners were beginning to focus on the scene. He felt as if he were floating above them all in the room. In his imagination he floated above the tables, flapping his little stubby wings and gliding beneath the ice in search of a juicy plump squid.
Sarah stood up and put her arm on his wing, “Alan, I think it’s time to pretend the blizzard has reached it’s peak and you need to shut down non-essential organs, like your brain, to survive.”
He looked down at her and saw the concern in her eyes. Then he focused on the plate of grilled salmon and vegetables in front of him and the big glass of white wine sweating next to it. Then he slid down into his seat, picked up his knife and fork, lifted them and smiled at the faces swirling around him and said, “Bon appetit!”
He saw the faces around the table snicker nervously, unsure of what his next move would be. He swelled with the attention, enjoyed the fact that they weren’t sure what he might do next.
A waiter maneuvered to his side, “Sir, the chairs are meant to sit on, only.”
“My dear man, I’ve got to be careful of the egg on my feet, I can’t just hop off of here on your whim,” he said and hunched a bit more as if the winds of the blizzard were strengthening.
Alan watched the waiter glance around nervously. The other diners were beginning to focus on the scene. He felt as if he were floating above them all in the room. In his imagination he floated above the tables, flapping his little stubby wings and gliding beneath the ice in search of a juicy plump squid.
Sarah stood up and put her arm on his wing, “Alan, I think it’s time to pretend the blizzard has reached it’s peak and you need to shut down non-essential organs, like your brain, to survive.”
He looked down at her and saw the concern in her eyes. Then he focused on the plate of grilled salmon and vegetables in front of him and the big glass of white wine sweating next to it. Then he slid down into his seat, picked up his knife and fork, lifted them and smiled at the faces swirling around him and said, “Bon appetit!”
These Are the Things He Liked - Kent Wright
Mrs. Hardwick wrote the assignment on the blackboard. This was the season for happy thoughts she said with that sharp look of hers. “Now get to work and no talking.” She went out the door. For a few seconds no one said a word, not until the shadow on the other side of the frosted glass faded away. It was one of her tricks to catch them out. Then there were murmurs and shortly a word here and a word there could be made out between students. The smarties in the sixth grade started to arrange their paper and got pencils out ready to start writing about their favorite things. Others were already day dreaming over their empty desktops.
Leonard looked out the window with the paper candle taped in it. It was next to his seat and he could see the row of small houses that lined Plum Street. There weren’t many and they ended where the street turned right and ran along the railroad tracks. Behind the houses was a grey; raw wooden fence that undulated like a snake but never quite fell down. The shacks on the other side of that fence were all stuck together with pieces of tin and unpainted wood. From there on the second floor of the school one of the kids had said it would look like one of her grandma’s quilts if you didn’t know it Staggsville and the kind that lived there. It was called Staggsville because Joe Staggs owned those dirty shacks and rented them out to Kentuckians like Leonard’s family. They picked up garbage, things like that.
Leonard was already fifteen his Ma told him. Fourteen, fifteen, he didn’t care. He didn’t care if he passed or not because next year when he turned sixteen he could quite school. He didn’t care to tell Mrs. Hardwick or anybody what his favorite things were. But she would flunk him sure if he wrote that being sixteen so he could quite this fucking school was one of them. And he sure wasn’t going to tell her or anyone else that his favorite thing, the thing he couldn’t push out of his head no matter how much he shoved, was the calf his Granny had let him feed with a bottle when he was a boy. The one that would lay with its head in his lap and lick his arm with its long, thick black and pink tongue.
Leonard looked out the window with the paper candle taped in it. It was next to his seat and he could see the row of small houses that lined Plum Street. There weren’t many and they ended where the street turned right and ran along the railroad tracks. Behind the houses was a grey; raw wooden fence that undulated like a snake but never quite fell down. The shacks on the other side of that fence were all stuck together with pieces of tin and unpainted wood. From there on the second floor of the school one of the kids had said it would look like one of her grandma’s quilts if you didn’t know it Staggsville and the kind that lived there. It was called Staggsville because Joe Staggs owned those dirty shacks and rented them out to Kentuckians like Leonard’s family. They picked up garbage, things like that.
Leonard was already fifteen his Ma told him. Fourteen, fifteen, he didn’t care. He didn’t care if he passed or not because next year when he turned sixteen he could quite school. He didn’t care to tell Mrs. Hardwick or anybody what his favorite things were. But she would flunk him sure if he wrote that being sixteen so he could quite this fucking school was one of them. And he sure wasn’t going to tell her or anyone else that his favorite thing, the thing he couldn’t push out of his head no matter how much he shoved, was the calf his Granny had let him feed with a bottle when he was a boy. The one that would lay with its head in his lap and lick his arm with its long, thick black and pink tongue.
This is What She Likes/Dislikes - Meg Newman
Alli is woman who knows her likes and dislikes, and communicates them well. If you are one of her closest peoples, you know them all well yourself. Sometimes it feels like my social life depends on remembering and detailing them all. Why? Because when the leader of the pack is unhappy, you know about it. Oh, and her criticisms of you are biting, truly. She expects the same from everyone in her circle- fidelity, availability at odd hours and she actually demands that you sleep with her frequently. Sometimes I feel so manipulated by her. I know she thinks she has me wrapped around her. She also likes you to surprise her and bring food to her and things to drink. What is up with that?
It is complicated because she is so easily bored, especially on a rainy day. At least on a regular day, we can go outside as an entourage and all walk together. Yes, those are the happier times. However, at the end of the day when she is laying on my lap and purring I forget many of her other traits.
It is complicated because she is so easily bored, especially on a rainy day. At least on a regular day, we can go outside as an entourage and all walk together. Yes, those are the happier times. However, at the end of the day when she is laying on my lap and purring I forget many of her other traits.
Drunk at the Bottom of a Ditch - John Fetto
Gil got the call late that afternoon. Johanna wasn’t crying. She spoke in a flat voice, telling him about the fight she had and that Hawley was drinking again. Gil himself had already tipped a few, but he listened and clucked his tongue, acting appalled. Afterwards, he got the keys to his car, then retreated back to the bathroom, gargling with mouthwash in case the cops stopped him.
He drove his old Plymouth out of the trailers park, past the little tract houses that filled the valley, towards the foothills. Twenty minutes later, he was stubbing his toes on rock and roots, wandering through the tall eucalyptus trees, looking for Hawley. The summer light was fading now and every long shadow looked like the outstretched legs of a drunken vet who couldn’t listen anymore to his girl-friend tell him how worthless he was. She said Hawley didn’t even argue back. He just drank more and next thing she knew his truck was gone.
Gil climbed higher up the slope. This was where Hawley and he like to sit and drink. From here they could listen to trains rolling out of the Concord Naval Weapons stations and bullshit like generals about where the weapons were going and what they might do. Gil enjoyed Hawley’s conversation even if he wasn’t very keen on fresh air. Hawley hated the same things Gil did, even if he didn’t shoot his mouth off as much. Where Gil would go on for ten minutes, Hawley would just say, “fucking bullshit.”
A breeze rose up, rattling the bark of the eucalyptus trees. Leper trees, Gil used to tell Hawley, their barked peeled like the dead skin of lepers. He looked up and froze. Against the light of a rising moon, Gil saw the outline of something long and skinny hanging from one of the branches of the trees. He edged closer, squinting, that sick feeling growing in his gut and his feet weighted with lead. It wasn’t until he was right underneath it that Gil saw it was just a long piece of bark, hanging from a branch.
“Johanna send you?”
The voice came up from someplace higher on the slope. Gil climbed toward the voice, still stumbling on the rocks. When he found him, Hawley was seated crossed legged, like some yogi, looking down at the Concord Naval Weapons Station. Gil sat down beside him and Hawley handed him a bottle and Gil took a long swing.
“See, many trains?”
Hawley took the bottle back. “One’s too many.”
Gil nodded and let it go. He wasn’t going to talk him to death tonight. His friend had enough arguing. He buttoned up his jacket and tucked his hands in his pocket and listened to the trees shaking, staring at the little lights of warm, comfortable suburbia spread in the valley below, just happy his friend corpse wasn’t swinging from some tree.
He drove his old Plymouth out of the trailers park, past the little tract houses that filled the valley, towards the foothills. Twenty minutes later, he was stubbing his toes on rock and roots, wandering through the tall eucalyptus trees, looking for Hawley. The summer light was fading now and every long shadow looked like the outstretched legs of a drunken vet who couldn’t listen anymore to his girl-friend tell him how worthless he was. She said Hawley didn’t even argue back. He just drank more and next thing she knew his truck was gone.
Gil climbed higher up the slope. This was where Hawley and he like to sit and drink. From here they could listen to trains rolling out of the Concord Naval Weapons stations and bullshit like generals about where the weapons were going and what they might do. Gil enjoyed Hawley’s conversation even if he wasn’t very keen on fresh air. Hawley hated the same things Gil did, even if he didn’t shoot his mouth off as much. Where Gil would go on for ten minutes, Hawley would just say, “fucking bullshit.”
A breeze rose up, rattling the bark of the eucalyptus trees. Leper trees, Gil used to tell Hawley, their barked peeled like the dead skin of lepers. He looked up and froze. Against the light of a rising moon, Gil saw the outline of something long and skinny hanging from one of the branches of the trees. He edged closer, squinting, that sick feeling growing in his gut and his feet weighted with lead. It wasn’t until he was right underneath it that Gil saw it was just a long piece of bark, hanging from a branch.
“Johanna send you?”
The voice came up from someplace higher on the slope. Gil climbed toward the voice, still stumbling on the rocks. When he found him, Hawley was seated crossed legged, like some yogi, looking down at the Concord Naval Weapons Station. Gil sat down beside him and Hawley handed him a bottle and Gil took a long swing.
“See, many trains?”
Hawley took the bottle back. “One’s too many.”
Gil nodded and let it go. He wasn’t going to talk him to death tonight. His friend had enough arguing. He buttoned up his jacket and tucked his hands in his pocket and listened to the trees shaking, staring at the little lights of warm, comfortable suburbia spread in the valley below, just happy his friend corpse wasn’t swinging from some tree.
The Most Amazing Thing - Judy Albietz
“Do not be scared, Lily,” said a gentle voice, with growly undertones.
“Who’s there?” Lily said with a jerk of her head. Hearing her name was a huge relief. They’d found her, after all. Feeling steady enough to stand up, she looked all around.
“Where are you?” she called. Finally, she wasn’t alone on this strange rock with this dog, who was now wide awake. It also stood up and gazed at her with sad dark brown eyes.
“Don’t worry, buddy. Looks like help is coming,” she said.
“You can call me Sam. I will help you get back to your family.”
“Who are you? What … what … is going on?” Lily shouted. The voice sounded so close, yet she couldn’t see a soul. Hearing voices. Not good. Lily thought as she sat back down, putting her head in her hands. Maybe her helmet hadn’t protected her after all.
The dog was gazing at her now, its eyes now golden brown and brimming with tears. The collar glowed in shifting muted shades of pink. The dog’s long tail slowly fanned the warm air around them, creating a faint buzzing that was almost melodic. There could be no mistake. It was the most amazing thing. This dog was talking to her.
That was his voice in her head.
“Who’s there?” Lily said with a jerk of her head. Hearing her name was a huge relief. They’d found her, after all. Feeling steady enough to stand up, she looked all around.
“Where are you?” she called. Finally, she wasn’t alone on this strange rock with this dog, who was now wide awake. It also stood up and gazed at her with sad dark brown eyes.
“Don’t worry, buddy. Looks like help is coming,” she said.
“You can call me Sam. I will help you get back to your family.”
“Who are you? What … what … is going on?” Lily shouted. The voice sounded so close, yet she couldn’t see a soul. Hearing voices. Not good. Lily thought as she sat back down, putting her head in her hands. Maybe her helmet hadn’t protected her after all.
The dog was gazing at her now, its eyes now golden brown and brimming with tears. The collar glowed in shifting muted shades of pink. The dog’s long tail slowly fanned the warm air around them, creating a faint buzzing that was almost melodic. There could be no mistake. It was the most amazing thing. This dog was talking to her.
That was his voice in her head.
Telling Lies - Maria Robinson
Elizabeth in a letter to Neal. Not mailed.
You own a part of me. I've got a part of you. Which part is it? Did you take my honesty? Did I take your trust? In the end, we just let things blow out-- every time we tried to right the ship, it just cracked further.
You left me to run the business without help, you decamped with Lois to the Hamptons and I grabbed Roger in revenge and went to Martinique. Alise was left to run our million dollar agency into the ground while we tried to fuck each other out of memory with others.
You broke the bank. I changed the locks. It was all about avoiding the essential lie: we'd stopped loving each other years ago and couldn't face it. The money was too big and too wet and too heavy and we were bathing in it and we drowned. It was dotcom New York.
You own a part of me. I've got a part of you. Which part is it? Did you take my honesty? Did I take your trust? In the end, we just let things blow out-- every time we tried to right the ship, it just cracked further.
You left me to run the business without help, you decamped with Lois to the Hamptons and I grabbed Roger in revenge and went to Martinique. Alise was left to run our million dollar agency into the ground while we tried to fuck each other out of memory with others.
You broke the bank. I changed the locks. It was all about avoiding the essential lie: we'd stopped loving each other years ago and couldn't face it. The money was too big and too wet and too heavy and we were bathing in it and we drowned. It was dotcom New York.
It doesn't come from a store...
Merry Christmas Eve! I have always loved this time of year, as many people do that celebrate Christmas. As I have gotten older, and my friends and family have moved from home, this time of year has become that much more special because they all come home for Christmas.
This year, for the first time since 1888 apparently, those of us living in Georgia, may see a white Christmas. Proof that if you wish for something for 23 years, it might actually come true!
This year is also extra special to my family because it is our first year in my parents new home! We are hosting the whole family for the first time since I was in elementary school. As soon as my grandmother arrives, we will be decorating cookies!
The Grinch Who Stole Christmas is my all time favorite movie. Specifically the Jim Carrey version, but I felt like this accurately summed up my thoughts today. Merry Christmas to all! All images via weheartit.
Blessings and Prayers
The Bible tells us that Jacob, before he passed away, blessed his children, “each one according to their blessing, he blessed them”. Now, what does that, mean??
So during this happy season, don’t look in jealousy to the other. It won’t accomplish anything worthwhile and will hurt all involved. Let us truly wish well to each and everyone, and you will be helping the other person, which will spiritually help you, and will create the proper vibes for brotherhood between all people.
On one level, we can explain, that every child is different from each other, and everyone has their unique way, and exclusive mission in this world. Jacob as a G-dly person, reading the characteristics of their souls, gave each one the blessing according to the blessing and the individual personality, as needed.
In line with what we just said, one of the commentaries explains, “Jacob, with his power of prophecy was able to see the future and gave each one, a blessing, in line with what was coming their way, anyway”.
This would mean that a blessing doesn’t really create anything. When a person has a blessing and a good thing, coming their way because they generated a positive energy as a result of smart choices, or other reasons. The bible is telling us, that a blessing adds strength, muscle, and force to draw down and move forward this energy.
This is actually what the word blessing means in Hebrew. Bracha - (the word for blessing) literally means to draw down. Like an existing vine branch on a tree, pulling it down to the ground in order to plant it in the earth.
While a person’s blessing only has the power to push forward what already exists, when G-d gives a blessing, this creates from the source, a goodness that did not exist before His blessing.
This power to create a new blessing from the source can be generated and created, by a person, through prayer. Prayer has that power. That is why in our prayers we say, “G-d, may it be your will…. “We are asking and beseeching you, to create the will for whatever it is that we are praying for.
A person is created in the form and image of G-d. Like G-d who can initiate new energies, a person through his power of prayer can create a new will and desire in G-d for things that perhaps where not in the pike before the person prayed.
When a person comes before G-d, “and my soul let it be like dust before everyone” in humility, and realize it’s a partnership, and no one can do it alone. This surrender to G-d, connects us to the source of created blessings in the world, and then with His help, we can create and initiate new and good things that until then, were not possible.
There is another way a person can initiate a new source for blessings, and that is when he blesses another person. The Bible says, “I will bless all those who bless you”. When a person blesses from his heart, another soul, and truly means well for him, this engenders G-ds blessings, which initiate from an infinite source, brand new supplies of goodness, for the person who gave the blessing to the other.
So during this happy season, don’t look in jealousy to the other. It won’t accomplish anything worthwhile and will hurt all involved. Let us truly wish well to each and everyone, and you will be helping the other person, which will spiritually help you, and will create the proper vibes for brotherhood between all people.
The good, the bad and the ugly
I have kids, I really do. But they don't co-operate and are almost never home at the same time in the daylight. And so my Christmas picture always consists of two semi-willing subjects. The fur kids.
Seeing as how I sold my Tamron, thank you, Marg, and woke up realizing I would not have a proper lens to document Christmas with Grandpa and other holiday gatherings, a fast trip was made to Lens and Shutter before 10 am. No Christmas presents for me or Kerry for 3 years now. (Kerry got a new bike a few weeks ago.)
We tried different poses this year. None of which were perfect. I'm really regretting my blue colour choice for the living room, even at almost noon, it too dark for natural light photography.
We went outside afterwards and got a few shots, I'm noticing a trend. I need to use a higher f-stop for long dog noses.
I do believe I have the cutest dogs ever!
Well, if not the cutest, then at least the most photographed.
The nerve of this guy!!
I heard some giggling in my daughter's room the other day, and THIS...is what I found!
Can you believe it?! I KNEW that Elf on the Shelf was a sneaky looking dude.
Can you believe it?! I KNEW that Elf on the Shelf was a sneaky looking dude.I don't know who to blame...Kurt the Elf, or these sleazy Bratz dolls. Such sluts! I caught them fondling a Ken doll around Thanksgiving, and now this!
To add insult to injury, I found an empty bottle of Jim Beam spilled all over my daughter's floor. THANK GOODNESS my children were at school at the time. I don't want my innocent little girls tainted by the tawdry antics of this horny elf and his plastic concubines.
I told my little one that Kurt has been transferred to a family in Texas. He is no longer welcome in our home.
If you happen to have one of these sneaky little elves in your home, keep a very close eye on him. Hide your Barbies, and make sure you lock your bathroom door when you take a shower. Behind that cute little smirk lies an alcoholic pervert just waiting to take advantage of unsuspecting families, trying to add a little holiday magic to their children's lives.
On a lighter note, Merry Christmas to you all.
I leave you with this quote from Dr. Seuss' "How The Grinch Stole Christmas."
That one gets me every time. Truly. It brings a tear to my eye. Dr. Seuss is brilliant.
I feel so blessed that I will spend my Christmas surrounded by the ones I love. I am so thankful for my amazing family and friends, and despite the fact that I haven't been blogging much, I am very grateful for all the wonderful people I have met through Caffeine Court.
Stay safe and I will be back in 2011!
To add insult to injury, I found an empty bottle of Jim Beam spilled all over my daughter's floor. THANK GOODNESS my children were at school at the time. I don't want my innocent little girls tainted by the tawdry antics of this horny elf and his plastic concubines.
I told my little one that Kurt has been transferred to a family in Texas. He is no longer welcome in our home.
If you happen to have one of these sneaky little elves in your home, keep a very close eye on him. Hide your Barbies, and make sure you lock your bathroom door when you take a shower. Behind that cute little smirk lies an alcoholic pervert just waiting to take advantage of unsuspecting families, trying to add a little holiday magic to their children's lives.
YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
On a lighter note, Merry Christmas to you all.
I leave you with this quote from Dr. Seuss' "How The Grinch Stole Christmas."
| “And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so? It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags. And he puzzled and puzzled 'till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before. What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store. What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.” |
That one gets me every time. Truly. It brings a tear to my eye. Dr. Seuss is brilliant.
I feel so blessed that I will spend my Christmas surrounded by the ones I love. I am so thankful for my amazing family and friends, and despite the fact that I haven't been blogging much, I am very grateful for all the wonderful people I have met through Caffeine Court.
Stay safe and I will be back in 2011!
Baited Breath
It's taken me a couple days to even look at the computer. It's been almost a month of calling the tech every other day to see what the prognosis was. And in the mean time I have missed a few things. Like sharing my photos of the first snow. The following photos are unedited. Linus and Sally have a new cousin, Roxy, she's adorable, and my cousin's baby golden retriever. She came over for a few hours and every one fell in love with her, except Sally.
My friend, Jeanette, finally talked me into getting gel nails. I did it as a special treat for Christmas. They are gorgeous. But they are so not me. Right now, they are much shorter, I'm a filing maniac. I can't properly scratch, or papercraft so I won't be keeping them.
I am almost ready for Christmas. Baking is done. Pounds have been put on. I'm planning on smoking a turkey and maybe a brisket.
The new tv is awesome. I've keep the ickies at bay with Cold FX. All the parcels that needed to be sent have been sent, and then more gifts were found in the hiding spot, and so more parcels were sent. The hiding spot is too good, my memory is not so good.
And finally, I leave you with my Christmas photo.... if I had one. Instead, here's our new ornaments for this Christmas. The last one is what we made in our Stamper's Group this month. On the back side it has a pocket for a gift card.
Mickey has friends that didn't show up for the photoshoot, and Dwight talks when you push his button.
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