Ouchie mouthie.

I had a root canal under sedation on Friday morning, and my mouth feels pretty raw on that side still. It's been a weekend of Vicodin haze and macaroni-and-cheese. I can't wait to leap back into real life tomorrow morning, do some shopping, enjoy life without dread.

Did you ever have something looming and looming and looming and the sense of dread just kept getting bigger and heavier until you could hardly stand it anymore? That's how this root canal was. The tooth has been a problem for three months, and the root canal has been scheduled for a month. I have a tremendous dentist phobia and a terrible gag reflex, so we had to track down a dentist who would provide sedation. But I was still so worried about it, because it was "conscious sedation" (sounds like an oxymoron, that) and no one could assure me that I wouldn't end up waking up and gagging/panicking in the midst of it all and not only forfeit the mega-bucks for the procedure but end up losing the tooth as well.

Friday morning I felt like a condemned criminal awaiting the chair, but the lovely, lovely drugs took right over and the whole thing went really well. SUCH a relief! Halcion is my hero. And everyone at the dentist's office treated me so nicely. What a load off my mind. At least until the next tooth problem.

While I've been preoccupied with my dentist phobia, Todd has been preoccupied with a job change. He submitted his resignation a week ago, and he'll start at his new job a week from tomorrow. It was a long process, and a hard decision, but we're really hoping the change will end up being the right thing. He needs work that will use his skills to the fullest and give him a challenge and some new things to learn, and I think this job will do that for him. It's so hard to make a break and leave the comfort zone, though.

I scrapped a page for the first time in about three months this evening. I hate it! I can't figure out where the enjoyment went, but it's just gone. I feel like I have to try, though...when Gianna was here in June, I pulled out a scrapbook and we looked at it, and there was a very simple page with her as a baby/toddler, and lots of details I wrote about what she was like and all the things I loved about her then. This was right before we left Ohio, and I knew I wouldn't get to see her every week, and it was so sad for me.

I just felt so grateful to have that documentation of her at that moment in time, and now I have all these other kids in my life, and the time with them is so limited and fleeting...I know I have to get things down so I'll remember them. So that was why I did a page on Evelyn tonight. But it was hard and I didn't enjoy it. Ugh.

Thirty-six.

Sunday was my thirty-sixth birthday. I had a low-key but fun weekend...Saturday we went to the Poquoson Seafood Festival, which is just a town fair with craft vendors and games for the kids and lots of fair food. We met up with a couple of friends and walked through the whole thing together. Then our friends left and Todd and I re-visited the craft booths just to make sure there was nothing we'd missed. There wasn't--most of the crafts were less than inspiring. Todd bought me a garden gnome, and that was all we bought, except for crabcake sandwiches, fries with vinegar, a funnel cake, and hot cider for the long walk back to the car.

It was a perfect day to be outside for hours and hours, just strolling around--cool but not cold. When it got dark, all the vendor tents in the trees were lit up and it all looked so cozy. Just a very relaxing good time.

Sunday it was still cool, but rainy, and we went to see Flags of Our Fathers (good but sappy ending) with another pair of friends. After we got out of that movie, Todd and I decided to live on the edge and drive to the other theater in town to see Marie Antoinette (not good, but great eye candy). Then we had dinner at Red Robin. It was a super weekend, and we had a great time being together.

I copied this list from another blog...here's who I am at 36:

I AM: A wife, a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a friend, a history lover, a reader, a thinker, a crafter.
I WANT: To do a lot more traveling, and to be able to see my family more.
I MISS: Ohio and my family.
I FEAR: Todd dying and leaving me alone. Having health problems. Global warming.
I HEAR: The hum of the fan in our bedroom and the hum of my computer. And the tapping of my keyboard.
I WONDER: If we'll ever be able to travel through time.
I REGRET: Not finishing college. Friendships that have ended or never got started.
I DANCE: Badly. I'm Mennonite.
I SING: A lot. Singing is my never-fail mood-picker-upper.
I CRY: At the drop of a hat. Everything makes me teary-eyed--I hate that!
I WRITE: Well. And not as much as I feel like I should.
I CONFUSE: Left and right. Just in my head...I know which is left and which is right, but when I have to say "Turn left," for some reason it always comes out as "Turn right." And vice versa.
I NEED: Less needless anxiety. More positive thinking.
I SHOULD: Get back in touch with my creativity. Get a paying job.
I AM NOT ALWAYS: Open with people.
I MAKE WITH MY HANDS: Scrapbooks, cards, paper crafts.
I AM NOT: Extroverted, good at reasoning or debate, a follower, or patient with stupidity, hypocrisy, and cruelty.

Lovin' fall.

Late last night I was sitting at the computer with the window cracked, and I could hear owls hooting to each other up and down the ravine in our back yard. I've never heard them before! They went on for a few hours, and it was so pretty and unexpected and perfectly Octoberish, to hear owls hooting.

Since I was right at the computer, I checked and there are four owl species native to Virginia. Based on what their call sounded like, I'm thinking they were great horned owls, or bubo virginianus.

[How amazing is this wonderful Internet, that I can sit at my desk and find files of owl calls to compare with the ones outside my window?]

Just as I'm not a dog lover but I like Scotties, so I'm not especially a bird lover, but I'm fascinated by owls. They look so supercilious. Sort of British.

I found more Halloweeny fun stuff today: pumpkin carving templates at AllRecipes. I think we may carve us up a couple jack o'lanterns for fun this year. Not having kids, we often miss out on some of the more kidlike holiday fun, but it doesn't have to be that way, does it?

Dog.

I've been cruising various sewing and crafts sites for a couple months now, and at some point I found this site and this pattern for an adorable stuffed Scottie dog.

I'm not particularly a dog lover, but I like Scotties, I think because they seem so "Forties" and also because I used to have these little black and white Scottie magnets that I would play with in church.

So I printed off the pattern ages ago and then it just sat. Because I've never sewed a stuffed animal before, and I've never sewed anything three-dimensional before. But I would keep looking at the pattern sitting next to my computer and thinking about it.

Then three weeks ago I was at the Disabled American Veterans thrift store with my MIL and I found this super-soft light blue wool sweater. I took a wool appliqué class with my friend Sheila moths and months ago, and I remembered vaguely that the teacher said you could felt wool sweaters by washing them in hot water. And this stuffed Scottie was sewn out of felt so that it didn't have to be sewed inside out on a machine, and then turned around and stuffed.

So I bought the sweater, brought it home, blasted it through a hot water wash, and lo and behold, it shrank down into this gorgeous soft thick felt! It's an amazing transformation.

So then the felt sat around for another week or so. And then I cut out the pattern and cut out the pieces, and those sat around for another couple weeks.

Finally yesterday I decided to bite the bullet--I was hesitant because I just wasn't sure how to do it, but the only way to learn is to do it, right?

So here's my little blue Scottie:


He doesn't have an eyeball yet because I don't have a bead or button in the right size, but otherwise he's done. I certainly learned a lot of what NOT to do while sewing him, but it was fun.

I have a heather gray Scottish wool sweater that I felted sitting here, too, and I think I might make a gray Scottie so they can be friends.

Halloween anticipation.

Here's an awesome little time-waster of a site: carve your own virtual jack o' lantern!

I love Halloween. I ordered 100 glow-stick bracelets last night, in the hopes that I can avoid buying a ton of candy that will end up in my mouth rather than the trick-or-treaters' bags. I hear there are some little Halloween Play-doh packages out now, too, and I might try to track some down in case we have a ton of kids or I want to offer a choice.

I know it's all about the candy, but I would have been thrilled with a glow-stick bracelet as a kid so I'm hoping the little ones will be, too.

One of my favorite things about Halloween is all the classic horror movies that they show on Turner Classic Movies. This year they seem to be planning a Vincent Price marathon on the evening of the 31st, with some generic scaries playing all day long.

One blissful Halloween 6 or 7 years ago, American Movie Classics had a terrific four-day Monsterfest, with all the oldies (Dracula, Frankenstein, Wolfman) as well as some great sci-fi monster movies and a few spoofs like Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein. It was fantastic!

Then the next year AMC changed formats to all commercials, all the time, and the definition of "classics" became "any cheap 1970s-80s crap we can scrape up from our library." Not that I'm still bitter or anything. But oh, that was the best Monsterfest ever that year. Sigh.

I checked AMC's schedule this year, and while they are playing a few of the oldies (stacked full of commercials) they're mingled with stuff like Halloween, The Exorcist and Child's Play. No, thanks. See, I like scary movies from the era before they became truly scary!

He got a birdie.

Todd was playing golf Monday afternoon when a friendly pigeon started following his group from hole to hole. It started diving at a couple of the guys, like it wanted to land on them.

After a few more holes, Todd decided to see if it would land on his arm. It did.

Then it walked up to stand on his head.

And it stayed there all the way back from the golf course out to the parking lot.

Stayed there while he put his bag in the car.

Stayed there as he slowly sat down in the car.

I think he was seriously going to try to bring it home with him, but then had second thoughts about the accident a panicked bird in his car might cause. Also, his bird-averse wife might have had a thing or to to say about his new pet pigeon.

But at least he got a picture with his golf buddy.

Oh, and his golf game dramatically improved about the time the bird showed up. Coincidence? You decide.

Thrifting.

The thrifting gods have smiled on me lately. I got re-bit by the thrifting bug after a really long hiatus...I think what caused it was reading other people's blogs and seeing the cool stuff they were finding at thrift stores and yard sales.

Two weeks ago, Todd's mom and I did some heavy-duty thrifting and I came across this gorgeous jug. It was more antique price than thrift price, but I love it. Made in Cambridge, Ohio, about an hour away from where I went to college.

I also found these lovely little unmarked cups--four of them. They go with nothing I own, but the flowers are so charming!

I also got a handful of books and a soft 100% wool sweater in baby blue for felting. When I get my little project done, I'll show what I made with it.

Thursday I went to my two closest local thrift stores and found a Pfaltzgraff dish, a footed fauxMcCoy dish, and a very heavy china tumbler. Also more books, two more wool sweaters to felt, and some pink gingham pedal pushers that I plan to chop into bits and make something out of.

Today Todd and I did a little garage saling around lunchtime and I hit the motherlode--an old house owned by a woman with a passion for old junk.

Five big wooden spools, an English china pitcher, and a tiny Japanese plate, and six English china saucers. Here's a close-up of the tiny plate, and then the saucers:

I also got a cool carved, painted piece of molding. It looks pretty old, but the woman had no idea where it was from--she had picked it up at a yard sale herself. Here it is below, between two more finds--two lighthouse paintings we found at one of the consignment stores we stopped at in the afternoon.

The lighthouse paintings will go in our downstairs lighthouse-themed bathroom.

I also ended up with a handful of Barbie books for my Barbie-crazy nieces Ev and Anna, and a child's prayer board book for me, and some other books. Books attach themselves to me and beg to come home with me--that's my story and I'm sticking to it. I also found a 1980's era book of iron-on embroidery transfers.

In true 80's style, they've glammed up the embroidery with paint washes and glitter and all manner of horrible things--I don't know if the emboidery on the model's sweatshirt is really visible, but trust me, it's dreadful.

But the transfers themselves are pretty straightforward and very cute...there's a castle picture that would make a great pillow for one or more of my princess nieces.

I think that's most everything. I'm pretty happy with my haul!

Slipper weather.

Today marks a momentous moment--the day the slippers come out of the back of the closet and take up their cold-weather role as my feet's best friend.

Todd and I are slipper addicts. My addiction is less pathetic because I am addicted only to slippers, whereas Todd is addicted to gloves, slippers, coats, and hats. He strokes fleece jackets in stores with a longing look in his eye, and I have to step in and remind him that he has several already. I've had to perform glove interventions for the poor guy. He's a cold little dude.

My only cold body part is my feet, and today I was pattering around the house in my socks and for the first time in six months, the socks just didn't feel like quite enough.

Into the closet I dove for my navy blue Acorns.

I bought a pair of Acorn fleece moccasin slippers for Todd many moons ago...I think when we were still living in Idaho, where the cold floors were definitely colder. He wore them out, and so several years ago, I bought him a new pair, and bought myself a pair while I was at it, to replace my red fleece Eddie Bauer slippers that were in tatters.

The new pairs don't seem to have lasted as long as that first original pair did, but they've done a fine job anyway. We both like the moccasin style, so our feet are cradled in fleecy comfort and warmth.

Back when we were still livng in Columbus, we'd stop by Todd's sister's house, which is beautiful but cavernous and hard to heat, and we'd both have our trusty slippers under our arms. Our nephew Angelo was a toddler then, and on the rare occasion that one of us would show up without our slippers, he'd point to the front door where we kicked off our shoes and say, "Slipper? Slipper?" It's important to look cool for the kiddies.

Last winter I shoved my foot into my slippers and felt the lining tear under my toes. I was planning to try to eke another winter out of them, but after checking out the Acorn site while linking it just now, I'm thinking I may be in need of a spiffy new pair...they have some WAY nicer patterns now!

In another week or two, the flipflops will journey back to their cold-weather storage and then the transition to fall will be complete.

House changes.

I was making the turn into our neighborhood this week when it struck me that it was a really similar day to the day (bright, sunny, autumnal) I came into the neighborhood for the first time with our realtors and saw what would become our house. In fact, it's been almost a year, which is unbelievable.

So I thought I'd show what we've done to the outside of our house, which may or may not look like much once I have the pictures set up. Here's how the house looked the first time I saw it in November:

The first thing we did, in March, was add shrubs across the front. These were freebies from a friend, hence the irregular sizes.

In April, we added a low stone wall to demarcate the front flowerbed. What we've had to do is build landscaping basically from scratch, as the previous owners (the "plant-haters," as they're known) had ripped out all the trees, shrubs and plants for reasons known only to themselves. We also filled the bed with a couple truckloads of composted soil.

In May and June, I slowly added some herbs and perennials to the flowerbeds. This has been the most trying part for me, because I have no idea what I'm doing, or what will do well and what won't. Bright annuals seem like the obvious choice to fill the beds, but as the front of the house is the only section that gets any substantial amount of sun, I decided to make the bed my herb garden, supplemented with perennials, and then filled in with annuals.

Being timid about spending vast sums of money, I didn't fill in the beds nearly as much as I should/could have, but I'm just writing off 2006 as a learning year. Hopefully, in these pictures I took yesterday, you can see how the beds have filled in a little. Most of the plants struggled through July and August, and didn't really start to thrive until the weather cooled off in September.

Since the only gardening I've done is in pots, planning gardens and beds for a bare canvas this size is fairly daunting to me, especially since plants are such a money gamble. I'm afraid I take it personally when they turn up their toes and die on me!

Next spring I'm hoping my German neighbor with the super-green thumb will repeat her offer of plants from her garden...I was just not ready to start planting when she was thinning out her gardens in March.

Once the weather cools, I'm going to throw in some bulbs and pray the squirrels don't feast on them...and I may splurge on a few flowering shrubs to plant along the treeline in back.

My plans for next year are to keep adding plants to the front, until I have a really full jumble of all different sorts of things. English garden-style is what I'm going for. And then I'll take on the backyard, which is an even more daunting task!

The next major cosmetic change to the front needs to be updated paint on the shutters, door, and garage door--all of which are looking mighty faded from 20 years of southern sunshine. I'm thinking navy blue would look crisp; right now it's all an 80's style country blue which is not only faded but seriously out-of-date. Painting the garage door will be a stopgap until we're ready to replace it with a nice new door--sorely needed.

In search of a nimble brain...and a tender heart.

Okay, so I need to get batteries for the spare digital camera, because this is my umpteenth post with no accompanying photos. Not that I have anything to take pictures of, but blog entries are always so much more fun with pictures.

It's raining. Hard. Again. I really don't mind a bit, but these huge storms have been amazingly frequent this fall. And I always end up out in them, through my own idiocy!

I went to Barnes and Noble this afternoon and picked up State of Denial by Bob Woodward...I really want to hunker down and make it through this book, but I have gotten dumber in the years since college and have a harder time focusing. I don't think I'm as smart as I think I am. I'm always picking up these history books that look super interesting, and I make it through the first third, if that, and then Dummy Brain kicks in and I just can't focus anymore and remember all those people and all those policies.

I am thinking about my brain as I all-too-rapidly approach yet another damned birthday, and wonder how to keep it nimble and alert. I already have chronic hereditary depression and anxiety killing off brain cell function at a rapid pace...how to hang on to the capacity I still have???

My ideas for brain cell growth include: learning how to play a guitar and read music, learning how to knit and/or crochet, and learning how to machine sew. Learning the rudiments of a foreign language could also fit onto that list somehow. Italian, maybe. Oh, and learning how to bake bread, yeast-style.

And I could also pull down that stack of history books and give myself a crash 20th-century history refresher course. The 20th-century is my century...that's the one I sort of specialized in while taking classes for my history degree. Insofar as it was possible to specialize at a school with a three-professor history department. A couple of the books on my stack, in case anyone was wondering (you know you were):

The Conquerors: Roosevelt, Truman, and the Destruction of Hitler's Germany
The Cold War: A History
War in a Time of Peace: Bush Clinton, and the Generals
Freedom Just Around the Corner: A New American History, 1525-1828
A Peace to End All Peace: the Fall of the Ottoman Empire and the Creation of the Modern Middle East

See, now I would look like an awfully smart cookie if I could declare that I had read ANY of those books through to the end.

My mother-in-law commented to me once that for a peace-loving Mennonite, I was awfully interested in war. And it's true. Twentieth-century war, anyway...don't ask me anything about the Napoleonic Wars. War changes the countries that fight it. Those changes shape the way we live today, the things we worry about and the things we carry around in our national subconscious. It's endlessly fascinating to me.

Now if I could just get through a book.

Oh, one last thing...I have been so burdened this week by what happened to those Amish girls on Monday. I have always had a soft spot for little Amish girls...they are so beautiful in their dresses and aprons and caps and braids. They seem like girls from another era, so innocent and untouched. My mother and my grandmothers were Mennonite, not Amish, but they grew up in dresses and braids, too...as did I, although growing up in the modern-day Mennonite Church I was able to wear pants and cut my hair when I wanted to.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I always saw people I loved sort of reflected in the faces of Amish girls.

To think of the horror that fell upon them on Monday just is almost too much to wrap my mind around. To think of the humble and brave way they met their deaths breaks my heart wide open. I am not a news junkie...I don't care to wallow in other people's grief, I've mentioned that here before. Sometimes that borders, for me, on cynicism and sort of a disconnectedness from the tragedy du jour. But this one really got to me.

Mennonite Central Committee and Mennonite Disaster Service, two organizations that do so much good in the world, are both creating a fund to provide support for the families and the community...if you have a few spare dollars to contribute, please do. You can donate online here, or mail a check marked "Amish School Recovery Fund" to MCC, 21 S. 12th St., P.O. Box 500, Akron, PA 17501. Thanks.

Catching up.

Well, I've certainly neglected this blog over the summer, haven't I?

Virginia has a peculiar weather pattern I've noticed the past few years--right about Labor Day, the intense heat and humidity break and life goes back to a happy pleasant temperature. This year the pattern held true, so I've gone from too deep-in-funk to want to write, to a state of such mental alertness that I'm too busy to write. Also many of the things I've been pondering haven't been blog-appropriate, which definitely is a style-crimper. I've honestly been taken aback at how many people read this thing--people who know me in...gasp...real life! So sometimes you gotta watch what you ponder about in public!

I started off September with a little home project: overhauling what I call my "utility closet" off my kitchen. We have two closets that open off the kitchen; I believe one was intended to be a coat/storage closet and the other a pantry. Well, the pantry became a tiny laundry room, and the coat closet has held a mishmash of paint cans, cleaners, and other detritus that used to live in our very roomy utility closet back in the condo.

This closet is much smaller and did not have shelves, just one shelf/hanger rod combo at the top. Then we had stuck a small leftover bookshelf inside just to have a place to stack things.

So we pulled everything out and Todd fitted it with white wire shelving, leaving room for the vacuum cleaner to slide in and the recycle bin to slide under. Just enough room on the sides to hang brooms and a mop, and that's that.

The closet was a very unattractive beigey color with 20 years worth of scuffs and scrapes, so I painted the whole thing white, and it just looks so pretty and clean. And neat! And tidy! Is there anything better than a clean tidy closet? I don't think so.

My friend Bev came down from Ohio to Virginia Beach on Labor Day for her vacation, and I went down and spent a couple days with her there on the oceanfront. We got rained on a lot, but we still had a fabulous time. I'll try to put up some pictures once I can get hold of them off Todd's computer. We took a dolphin-watching tour on the ocean that was amazing--I've never ever seen so many dolphins! And we drove across the Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel in pouring rain, which sort of spoiled the view, but it was still exciting. I was glad to get to spend even just a tiny bit of time with Bev.

Last weekend I finally made a decision about what to do with our foyer/stairway/upstairs hallway, which all flow together. The walls are absolutely filthy, scuffed and scraped and gouged, and in desperate need of paint. And the carpet on the stairs really needs to be replaced. But if I replaced the stair carpet, then I'd need to either carry that through in the upstairs rooms or the downstairs rooms, so that it would all flow together.

I don't know why it was so har for me to figure out what to do, but we finally came up with re-carpeting the stairs, living room, and dining room. So I went to Lowe's to find a paint color and the right carpet.

The paint I chose is called Latté, from Laura Ashley. (Most of our home colors have been from Laura Ashley--love that line.) It's just a shade lighter than the original color, but warmer, and it's a semi-gloss, rather than flat. And I'm also re-painting the white trim, which is also terribly scuffed, gouged, and dirty. (Dogs and bachelors (the previous owners) are apparently awfully hard on a house.)

I've gotten the foyer all done, now I'm preparing to tackle the hallway. The stairs will be a chore in and of themselves, and Todd has worked out some idea for rigging a platform out over the stairs, which makes me queasy just thinking about it, so that will be his job and I'll stand by and pray for his safety while he paints it.

The foyer looks fabulous--so clean now, and the semi-gloss really reflects what little light there is, whereas the flat paint just sucked it up. I'll wait to get a picture till after we get the new carpet down, sometime here in the next few weeks.

So things are good, life is busy, and my brain has finally kicked back into order. It feels good.

Day of mourning.

The phone rang very early this morning and woke me up. It was only a telemarketer (grrr), but once I climbed back into bed, I thought about the phone call that pulled me out of bed exactly five years ago today.

On September 11, 2001, I was getting over the flu and had slept in. I heard the phone ring downstairs and padded down to hear Todd's voice on the answering machine: "Turn on the TV. I called Mary and John is okay."

John was our friend who was a United flight attendant flying out of Boston at the time. I couldn't figure out why he wouldn't be okay, until of course I turned on the TV and tried to make sense of the chaotic scene I saw. The rest of the morning is a blur. The one thing I remember vividly is calling Todd after the second tower fell and my voice failing as I realized I had just seen thousands of people die.

Apart from being concerned about our friend, and having to reschedule the trip to Connecticut we had planned for that weekend, Todd and I weren't directly affected by what happened on September 11. We didn't have friends or family in New York or at the Pentagon or on Flight 93. Life went back to normal pretty quickly for us, apart from watching the news every night and feeling the grief of all those people searching and searching for their loved ones.

This September 11, I won't be seeking out any news programs re-living the day. I don't even think I'll seek out any news programs that may track where our country has come since that day. I know all too well where we've come...to a world that seemed unthinkable to most of us on September 10, 2001.

We're embroiled in a general war on terror and a specific war in Iraq, both of which devolved disappointingly quickly into a political tug-of-war, fought by leaders we can't trust. Sinister Arab faces and names are a staple of our news now. The blithe conviction that we were the most-beloved country in the world is gone, and so many tiny things we took for granted have changed as well. Some of still cringe when we hear a low-flying plane.

Well, I'm not telling anybody anything new. We all know the world changed. Most days we muddle along doing what needs to be done and don't think too hard about war or terrorism or the people who would gladly see us dead. This is a good day to think about it...to think about where we go from here and to remember the people who didn't get to see this strange new world.

Windy, rainy yuckiness.

That's what we had today courtesy of TS Ernesto. The wind actually woke me up this morning...and for it to penetrate through the hum of my white-noise fan that I can't sleep without, it had to have been fierce. I peeped out the back door and our creek was a river, spilling out of the ravine into the yard on the other side. And the winds and rains kept rising and falling in those bands of weather that you get with hurricanes and tropical storms--for some reason, that intrigues me. It's like tangible proof that the storm is rotating and hustling along way, way up there.

I had several errands I wanted to run, but after going out to the car to look for an umbrella, and not finding one, and getting soaked through my pants, shoes and raincoat...I thought better of it. I had just settled down on the couch with some lunch when the power went out.

I cannot, cannot sit alone in a dark house, so I went out and did my errands, anyway. And got drenched multiple times for the fun of it. I had to drive over into York County, to the neighborhood where we used to live, because that was the closest spot that had power. I was so proud of my fellow citizens, driving so carefully through intersection after intersection with darkened, powerless stoplights, stopping to let the other cars make their left or right turns across traffic. Seriously! I was amazed!

Mailed my nephew's birthday present (baking powder/vinegar-powered rocket and a book of 101 science experiments), filled up with cheap gas (under $3.00? Yeah, that's cheap.), got a small bag of ice and a styrofoam cooler just in case the outage lasted, and made a desultory trip to the scrapbook store.

I say "desultory" because having that scrapbook yard sale a few weeks ago and selling all that stuff just really shocked me. My passion for scrapbooking waned a long time ago, but this was like finding out your spouse of thirty years has cheated on you for twenty-nine years.

For those who don't scrapbook, let me explain: scrapbooking is, at it's most intense level, a cult. It's about creativity and memories, sure, but at the cult level--at the level where you know designers by their first names and can rattle off the submission guidelines for five different magazines--it's about products. Having lots and lots and lots of products. Having the newest and best and latest and greatest products. Being able to recognize a product line on sight and name the company, and often, the designer who created it. And, if you decide to take the next step, being able to sell said products with your own work.

I know I've talked about this before, and bemoaned my love/hate relationship with the process, the business, and my own tiny design "career." But looking at that mountain of STUFF, and thinking about the other mountain of STUFF I'd just sold in May--ugh. I feel let down by scrapbooking, and bored with it, and suckered into something I'm kind of tired of thinking about.

It's not about feeling like my work isn't good enough, because I think I'm an above-average scrapper most of the time. It's more about using the word "work" to describe something that used to be something I did in the hours I wasn't working.

I guess I feel tired of being sucked in to the consumer frenzy that is scrapbooking right now. I feed it and I feed off it. I want to do something different for a while. I'm tired of bitching and moaning and thinking dull thoughts about something that's supposed to be, well, fun.

Man, that was a long detour from my Day of Ernesto spiel. So, after moping through the scrapbook store and feeling sick of it all, I sloshed over to Barnes and Noble and propped my soggy self up on a barstool and indulged in a pumpkin spice latté, which just made its fall reappearance. I don't know. They sound good, and they sort of are good for the first three or four sips, but then you're just sucking down something way too sweet to be coffee. Every time I give in and have a Starbucks sweet coffee drink, I always feel oogy and swear off for six months. So no more lattés till, oh...March.

Todd and I tried to meet up and have dinner when he got off work, but nothing in the shopping district had power. So it was back over to beautiful York County, where we ate at our favorite greasy spoon, along with about fifty other people who had no power, no hot food, and nowhere else to go.

We bumped into my friend Becky and her husband there, and shared the big booth I snagged with them. I took a writing class from Becky in January-February, and she is sort of sweet and tart at the same time, smart and wounded. They lost their grown daughter several years ago to a particularly horrible case of MS, and I hope I'm not being fanciful or dramatic when I say that you can see that wound in her eyes, and in her husband's eyes. I don't have a lot of experience with death and grieving, but I can see its impact in them. Sometimes Becky looks lost, just for a second, when her face is in repose.

I just think the world of her, and I totally enjoyed her husband--I hadn't met him before. My favorite kind of man: quiet, smart, and creative, with kind eyes. We had a really nice supper together...such a little bit of serendipity!

We drove home to check on things, and lo and behold, there was light and power and Internet and all good things. I was so relieved. We lost power several weeks ago in a lightning storm, and I'm afraid I was a bit of a drama queen about it. ("I can't SLEEP without my FAN! I can't READ by CANDLE light!") So I was practicing my stiff upper lip all day..."tut tut, better get some ice, don't you know, bother this rain," and rehearsing ways to fall asleep without temperature control or white noise...and it turned out just fine. Isn't that always the way.

But hurricane season ain't over, and my stiff upper lip might just get a workout yet.

Grocery gaming.

The NSBR (non-scrapbooking-related) board at Two Peas is a blessing and a curse. A curse because it's easy to lose large chunks of time there, and a blessing because you can find out about all sorts of interesting things you'd never have known about otherwise.

Last week my discovery was a concept and website called The Grocery Game. It's a database that compiles grocery store weekly sale lists and matches them to available coupons to help you get the rock-bottom price for products.

I hate to grocery shop. Hate it with the white heat of a thousand suns. If there is one chore I wish I could hire out, it's grocery shopping. And since we moved to Virginia particularly, I've noticed the grocery bills climbing and climbing.

So after hearing story after story of saving 50-75% on grocery costs, I decided to do the four-weeks for $1.00 trial. I've got four stores on my list, and I've been to three of them this week, and saved 41% total.

It's time-consuming at first, cutting coupons, checking the lists for each store, and then making the rounds through unfamiliar stores (I don't shop at any of the four on my list regularly) but the folks on the GG message boards swear that once you build a stockpile of your basic food and toiletry items, you can cut both your time and expenses drastically.

For me, since I hate grocery shopping anyway, there's not much that could make me hate it more, so I might as well put the time in and see how it goes. Saving money might even help me hate grocery shopping a little less.

So that's been my life this week--coupons and lists. I dubbed this the Week of Unpleasant Tasks--I have several things on my to-do list this week that are among my very, very, VERY least favorite chores, so I decided to relegate them all to one week and get them over with. The fact that I'm sitting here blogging in the middle of the afternoon should tell you how hard I'm working on my list.

Midnight notes.

I am basking, BASKING I tell ya, in the wonderful cool dry midnight air coming in my study window.

I think this is the first time we've had the windows open at night in at least two months. Tomorrow night it will probably be warm, wet and humid again, but for tonight...I am loving it. I don't want to go to sleep, it's so pleasant to sit here and surf the net and listen to music and feel cool and breathe fresh air. One of the neighbors must have had a bonfire tonight, because there's a wisp of wood smoke blowing in--it smells wonderful.

Today (Saturday) was a mixed bag of a day, for sure. The scrapbook yard sale was this morning, and I spent most of the day Friday pulling more odds and ends from shelves and boxes and...the funnest part: pricing it. Oy, all those tiny stickers.

The church was open Friday evening, so Todd helped me take my carload of boxes inside, then stood around enjoying the wonderful world of female conversation...until I asked him to help me arrange the table. Then he beat it.

It took me most of three hours to set everything up and walk around and peruse everyone else's tables. There weren't as many people participating as I expected, maybe 12 or 15? I was very firm with myself and only bought a few goodies, just the irresistable ones. Some Heidi Swapp chipboard letters, a pack of American Crafts letter stickers (love those) and paper, a big Provo Craft stamp that I've been eyeing at Michael's for months, and an old Club Scrap stamp.

Today I arrived at the church at 8...the sale was scheduled to start at 9...but there were so many people wanting to come in, they just let 'em in. From about 8:30 to 10:30, things were nuts. Then the last hour and a half were slow.

I ended up making just over $300...awfully nice. I had my stuff priced low, and that helped. I put together a box of leftovers for charity, and pulled a few things that didn't sell to keep, and a few more to Ebay if I ever get around to it.

I heard some bad news at the sale about a person I care about. Checked in with her after the sale, and the bad news was true. She's got cancer. It's serious. I'm not sure she wants it spread around, so I'm not, but if you read this, please say a little prayer for her and her family. The news definitely brought me down from my post-sale high. I freaking hate cancer, I hate it.

I took a nap in the late afternoon, I was so tired from the sensory overload of the sale. I get sensory overload pretty quickly anyway, and the sale was hectic, at least for a while. Totaling stuff up in my head, making change, finding bags, answering questions, and trying to keep my spare eye on the table to make sure nobody had sticky fingers. My friend Cheryl, at the table next to me, had a few stamps lifted. Honestly, though, I had so much stuff, I'm not sure I would have missed a few small things going astray. I swear I don't know what is wrong with people...the sale was held in the sanctuary of the Catholic church, and Todd was shocked when I told him there had been "lifting": "Stealing in a CHURCH??!" Yep, this is where we've arrived as a society.

And on that cheerful note, nighty-night.

Blogs to visit.

I've been addicted to finding vintage/sewing/crafting blogs lately. Here are some of the very best I've found:

Yarnstorm. She's taking a little summer hiatus right now, but the archives are so fun to read. Sort of a chronicling of the lovely British life I'd like to lead...

My House is Cuter Than Yours. I may have mentioned this one before--it was the first of this sort of vintage crafting blog that I discovered. I love this girl's flair. (Not the Office Space kind!)

Angry Chicken. Super-ultra-creative cute stuff.

Little Birds. Even more super-ultra, etc., etc.

Turkey Feathers. Apparently bird themes are common among the vintagey sewing creative types.

Meggiecat. I haven't totally explored this one, but she seems to love vintage images and themes.

Pandora's Button Box. I just can't believe real people are this energetic and creative. I need to get off my computer chair and start taking vitamins!

Wee Wonderfuls. This girl is so freaking talented, she creates sewing patterns and embroidery patterns and other adorable creations seemingly at the drop of a hat. Lots of goodies here.

That should be some good surfing fodder for y'all.

More old stuff.

We headed up to Richmond this past weekend to check out a flea market Todd had heard was good, but...um, not so much. Lots and lots of garbage, nothing remotely interesting. Unless you find used pants and stolen DVDs interesting. Todd did pick up a motor and a couple other odds and ends but my thrift vintage junk dream was rudely punctured.

So we headed off to explore and find some antique malls. We went to three all together, and although Todd found nothing, I did buy just a couple little things.

At the last antique mall, I walked into a treasure trove of vintage paper STUFF. The dealer said she's one of the largest paper ephemera dealers in the country, and I can believe it. I've never seen so many magazines and ads and pamphlets and STUFF in one spot before.

I didn't get to look through everything--it would have taken a whole day--but I grabbed just a few old magazines for fun at-home perusal. I loved the colors on this one, and doesn't that look like a room you'd sleep in at grandma's house?

I also got a copy of an old magazine called Everywoman, which features an essay by Senator John Kennedy on whether the U.S. will ever have a woman president (he waffles around the topic in truly Presidential style), and a couple old Better Homes and Gardens.

At the first antique mall we stopped at, I found this old reader:

My dad has been a custodian at a local school for 30 years, and when I was a kid and an avid reader, he'd bring home books that were being discarded from the school library, in a fruitless effort to keep me supplied with reading material. (And also because he's constitutionally incapable of seeing perfectly good items thown away.)

This was in the 1970s, which meant that most of the books being pitched were from the 1940s, and the readers, in particular, were full of the most charming illustrations I'd ever seen. I firmly believe my love for 1940s-style home decor comes from my years of absorbing these pictures.

So whenever I see an old reader with nice pictures, I pick it up. This one is from 1935, so the style is a little older than the readers I remember from my childhood, but the pictures are just lovely:

Old treasures.

As promised, here are a few of my flea market/garage sale/antique store treasures that I've acquired in the past few weeks.

I've had a small globe collection for several years now--only one of which is at all old (late 1940's). My others date from the 60s, 70s, and 80s. While I was home in Ohio, I picked up another medium-sized globe and two small globe banks, which I'm constantly on the lookout for and never seem to be able to find.

I have one more globe in the mix--the small cream globe on the left shelf came from the Dollar Spot at Target a couple weeks ago. What can I say--it was cute!

In the area where I grew up in Ohio, we have a flea market phenomenon that's held in the countryside every Friday. It's the Rogers flea market and open-air sale, so called because it takes place right outside the town of Rogers, Ohio. People at home just say, "I'm going to Rogers Friday," and everybody know whatof they speak. Or as my niece Kylie asked my mom one day, "Does Grandpa have Rogers tomorrow?" Yes, my dad goes often enough that Kylie just assumed it was a weekly obligation, like church or Scout meetings.

When I was in college, Rogers was the summer treasure hunt spot for me and my friends. We had a friend at the time who was heavily into Partridge Family and other 70s collectibles, which in the late 80s were still considered junk and therefore easy to find. We picked up quite a few treasures at the sale, which has several separate elements. There are pole barns with tables and booths selling everything from produce to the finest plastic crap China has to offer. There's a whole alley of tables with more Chinese garbage--sunglasses, offbrand DVDs, cheap tools--and the requisite dusty Avon and Mary Kay boxes.

But there are a few aisles out in the pastures where junk dealers set up their old stuff. Antique dealers come, too, and set out things that are maybe too junky to sell for antiques, but still old and cool. This is my Nirvana.

Todd insisted that our Fourth of July visit this year stretch out to cover the Friday after the Fourth, so we could make it to Rogers for a pilgrimage. He goes in search of old dusty tools to add to his old dusty tool collection in the garage. I went this time in search of house treasures.

At an antique dealer's table, I found this fascinating lady:

She's made of metal, pretty solid, and she has a hole on her back which makes me wonder if she was attached to something--a lamp?-- in a previous life:

I set her in front of my 100-year-old daffodil watercolor that Todd got me for Valentine's Day a couple of years ago, and she looks perfect there. I absolutely love her!

From the same dealer, I got a yellow McCoy-lookalike vase with handles, and in another excursion sometime in the past few weeks, I picked up another yellow McCoy knockoff, expanding my antique collection to--three. (The vase on the far right is a Michael's special--but the one on the far left is a "real McCoy.")

I found this great piece at the Williamsburg antique mall, which is a place Todd and I like to stroll through a few times a year. The pottery is very lightweight, but the style of printing makes me think it's pretty old--19-teens or twenties? Plus, how many years has it been since a cook needed to keep a jar of sand in the kitchen?

The jar is residing on a shelf in my red sea-themed bathroom, waiting for a few more treasures to join it and make the display complete.

That same day at the antique mall, I came across this old U.S. map. It's in a very cheap poster frame, but the map itself (a giveaway from a Pittsburgh company) looks to be 70 or 80 years old. What I love about it is the quote printed across the top: "Breathes there a man with soul so dead, who never to himself hath said, 'This my own, my native land' ?"

The plan is to mat and re-frame it and hang it over the fireplace in the living room, but I thought it filled this empty dining room spot very nicely till then:

Finally a couple of garage sale finds...when Lisa was visiting in June, she and Todd went off garage-saling one Saturday morning, and came back with a tale of a wondrous sale where an older lady was selling stacks of vintage tablecloths and other treasures. Amazingly, Todd was able to retrace his steps and take me there, where I snagged this stack of tablecloths for $1.00 apiece:

I'd like to sell a few of them on Ebay, but I haven't taken the time yet to check and see what sorts of prices vintage linens are bringing right now.

At the same sale, I got this set of dessert dishes and plates:

And last for today, a bit of amateur artwork I found at a yard sale a couple weeks ago. It's signed on the back by the artist, who painted it as a Christmas present to the family in 1967. The frame has a chunk out of it, which is a shame, because otherwise I'd just leave it in its original frame, which seems to suit it better than a mat-and-frame set-up would.

I love old stuff!

Caterpillars for Kylie.

I took these pictures for my niece Kylie, who is a bug...I was going to say "bug lover," but "bug adorer" would be more accurate. These little buggers ate half of my enormous dill plant a couple weeks ago. Last year, at our condo, they munched my parsley plant down to a few bare stalks, but I guess this year the dill looked more appealing.

Maybe they'll come back to visit in their butterfly stage soon!

I'm baaaa-aaack.

Several people have informed me that I am being terribly neglectful of my blog. I admit it's nice to be missed.

I've been in a summer funk, where nothing seems important, and thoughts are too heavy or tiresome to write down. After many years of being a depressed person, I understand now that it's cyclical. It cycles in and out of my life, and the best I can do is just ride it out.

Sometimes when you're in the thick of it, it feels like you've always felt this way, that your whole life has been a feeble gesture in the face of despair, and you'll never be hopeful again. It's important to cling to reality and believe you'll feel good again. I'm better at that now...I understand myself better.

I'm lucky...the lows aren't as low as they were 10 or 15 years ago when depression really derailed my life. But yeah, last week was kinda low. No real reason, I guess it was just my time. I can point to a couple things, like summer heat and feeling sealed up in this house, but there's always something that my mind latches onto and turns into a reason for feeling bad.

I try not to write about feeling bad or cranky or angry here because I hate reading other people's whiny blogs, so I don't want to subject anyone to my whines. Anyway, this week is better.

In the calm between moods, I've hit several garage sales and flea markets and picked up some really interesting odds and ends for the house, so I will try to get some pictures up and running soon. I'm also purging my scraproom yet again for a community scrapbooking sale in a couple of weeks. I've really been ruthless, and I have several boxes going--fingers crossed I can sell it all and make some cash. The purging has gone hand in hand with a major re-arranging and re-purposing in my study, too, in an attempt to undo the effects of "just get it moved in, I don't care where you put it." Three moves in four years have really put a crimp in my organized life!

Anyway, I'll be back later, hopefully with pics.