I made you something...

...and I mean that.
Have I successfully distracted you from posting any questions about my last cake-decorating class? If not, I'll tell ya I didn't make it to class as I couldn't get a sitter. So I never learned the rose. These little purple flower blops are fancy enough for this gal.

Life will go on. Even better that I'll ride it in a sugar high.

Estate Saleing is my new BFF. Sorry, Paris.

I'm an estate saleing fanatic (isn't that vintage Playskool puzzle clever?). Thursday may be my favorite weekday. However, sometimes I feel guilty when rifling through one's personal treasures. I feel odd and slightly unmerciful toward the crowds shuffling room to room forgetting to utter "excuse me"--at the collectors hoping to find a rare antique to resell. I want them to be a leettle respectful.

Pillage. That's the word.

That part? Not for me. I tenderly re-stack the kitchen plates and pans. Gently replace lids on Rubbermaid containers brimming with holiday decor. I do it out of respect for the person(s) who has left this life for, hopefully, an easier one.

I wonder what the things meant to her--the beauty she felt when wearing the flowy dress, the pride displayed in nurturing her family from not only the recesses of glossy cookware, but, from her heart.

And I'm very vividly presented with the fact that, once we leave this green, blue, glorious, smoggy earth,

we take nothing with us.

Perhaps that's why I go back. Amidst the Macy's-esque frenzy of aquisition, I am still. Still enough to receive the sounds and secrets gauzed in the empty walls.

***
If you're new to estate saleing, here are some hints:

~Wichita-area residents may click here for the Wichita Eagle newspaper's site (I don't receive the paper...). Go to Classifieds, then Find an Ad, then, Estate Sales. The addresses and details will be listed. For the rest of you, check out this website or your local paper.

~Some estate sales are run by companies that do all the work for the family. Typically prices will be higher at these sales, but, will go down by 25% on the second day, then 50% (or more) the third day.

~Most sales run Thursday through Saturday, but I've hit some on Wednesdays before.

~Many estate sale companies have their own websites which will display photos of the items. One gets a sense of the things for sale and can judge whether or not it's worth a trip.

~Privately organized sales tend to have lower prices but will only accept cash.

~Get there early! I know there's at least one other person with an eye on mid-century & ecclectic decor (Dixie with Mid-Century Originals downtown), so, that's my motivator. I've been a happy supporter of her booth for several years, and our living room holds much of her merchandise, but, now I know how cheaply I can obtain things if I'm willing to do some legwork!

~Don't judge a book by its cover. If you approach a house and wonder what could possibly be of value in it, go in anyway. There could be a wheelbarrow or ladder in the backyard for your hot stud at home.

~Make offers. I'm not an assertive person, but work on it every day. Saleing provides great opportunities for that, and I've heard "no" plenty of times.

~Be prepared for large crowds in tight quarters.

~Have fun. Warning: you may develop an addiction!

We've begun our no rhyme or reason wall collage. Many of the older hangings are sale finds, none of which I paid more than $5 for.And Wilder's busy little bee. A wooden toy costing $1. I've seen them for $20 in antique stores.

~

It's almost the 4th!

It's almost the Fourth.

The neighbor kids have considered themselves warned.

You don't wanna cross me when my baby's trying to sleep!

Taco Bar Partay

We have a charming, covered back patio that we don't enjoy enough. Despite the intolerable upper 90 degree weather, I took a gamble and hosted a patio party for some momma group friends. A storm happened to be brewing so we lucked out on cooler breezes that swayed my new paper lanterns to, fro, to, fro.

Some of us lingered over wine and turtle pie until 2am! I haven't stayed up that late since ye ole college days. It was refreshing to spend time with these enchanting women. And the food was amazing. I made 4 lbs of beef (which, consequently, was far too much).


humor me: Shawn took Wilder to grandma/grandpa's for the night, so, I got to sleep in this morning!! I anticipated reading and lazing around until they returned. However, I locked myself out of the house when letting Marley out to potty...

I was in a t-shirt and undies...so I couldn't ask the neighbors for help.

No phone. No food or water. Sweltering heat.

No pants.

Fortunately the radio and fan from the party were still out, so I flipped those on and snuggled with Marley on a lawn chair til Shawn returned. I'll refrain from detailing my attempts to get past the patio door for fear that you'll conjure images that wouldn't honor the gracefulness and ability required to position one's partially-naked self on a wobbly chair whilst wielding (rather effortlessly), a screwdriver overhead.

Shawn returned within an hour. But still.

I was in my underwear!

There are good people everywhere.

Shawn wanted me to share more of my {unedited} pics of Drew/SG's wedding venue/area. Guess I'll leave it at that...

Oh, I almost forgot: Happy Saturday.

Wedding Bell(es)--settle in for a LONG read/gander

I go back & forth on the wedding front. Let me put it delicately. Sometimes I don't like them.

Here's why, partly: mine's over. {now that seems pathetic when I type it out}

It's weird. I show up (after shopping mercilessly, tirelessly in front of brutal dressing room mirrors, just for the perfect ensemb) so, so happy for the new couple, but, then, in my selfishness, wish, just a teensy bit, that I could go back and be the skinny, tan girl in white, the object of every person's adoration.

This weekend I understood something (hold your applause; this does happen on occasion). This above-described feeling is underskirted by something else, okay?

Something deep, deep, deeper.

And that thing is this: weddings are just another reminder that time, silly, relentless, unforgiving time, is passing, flying. And with it, kids I used to babysit will graduate, get married. Childhood pets will go to Animal Heaven. My beautiful son will enter kindergarten (gulp, college too!). I will smear anti-aging creme over my smile lines. I will cry when my baby sister becomes a mother (that is not a hint, Sissy, promise).

Maybe that's why I don't "like" weddings. I feel like I'm permissing Time to carry on. I'm genuinely joyous for the "hurrahs" in others' lives, but want more time to process my own.

I need just a few more moments in each moment. A little longer.

***
The two weddings last weekend were 3 parts sweet, 2 parts magical, 1 part sobby-teary mess (on my part). Here's a hodge-podge of weekend pics:
And a few of Drew/SG's wedding shots. Their wedding was at a cool art gallery/venue. SG's parents did all the background paintings behind the altar area.
And, my cousin Pandia's:

Isn't her reception veil adorable?
That's Holland, my cousin, who was my flower girl almost six years ago! Thanks for sticking with me in this long, comma-crazy post.

...and they all lived happily ever after.

Wilton's got some tough stuff!

So you know I'm taking a cake decorating class. Our last session is next week (owl cake was my 2nd project). 

My thoughts: cake decorating is not really my forte.

It requires things like:
"patience"
"steady now"
"counter-clockwise"
"pivot"
"hold your hand at 45 degree angle at 6 o'clock and pipe towards yourself"
(and I don't even know if that's right)

The rose was a disaster. I do not have the patience.

In a sneaky way I'm mostly doing it to hang with my friend, Juls. I can do that & still eat the frosting, right?

Oh, good!

Yep, it was good.

Dia de Padre

I knew for a trillion years that I would never again meet any man remotely cool as Shawn. He is a vessel of remarkable depth and beauty that only the human soul can afford, and, thus appreciate.

You betcha his coolness carries into fatherhood.

Us moms like to talk about our birth stories--I could go there, but that might bore you! Or gross you out. Either way...

Suffice it to say that my recovery took AWHILE. Shawn saved the day. I'm not kidding. When I "came to", he had to teach me about preferred diaper brands, Wilder's schedule, umbilical cord stuff...he was a cheerleader, a bona fide breast pump retriever, and a believer in my abilities as a mother. We would have not made it through those first few harrowing weeks without him.

Shawn, because of you I feel that I can shine. And I have a suspicion that Wilder does, too. Thank you.

And that, my friends, is your modern-day prince.
Except, he's mine. Hehe.

Dun-dun-dun-dun

Two out-of-town weddings in one day. That was a first! What fun! Alot of work with a nearly one year old, but, so, so fun!

Couple #1:

Couple #2:
More pics to follow! (gotta unpack, pick up the dog, buy formula, make cupcakes for class tonight...)

A *vintage* chair way up high!

I've gotten a little hooked on garage/estate saleing. Have you??

Shawn clears the table off Wednesday evenings because he knows come Thursday afternoon, it will be toppling over with saleing treasures. "Babe, Look what I spent your money on found!"

My latest find: a new old high chair for Wild Man:
A pretty good deal at 5 bucks if I must say so! The sun was bright and pretty tonight so I took advantage of the lighting. Wilder's kinda used to being in front of the camera. Can you tell?



Do you see those curls?Hope the neighbors don't mind my using their pretty stone house as a backdrop!

I'm crazy over...

this guy!!!!

His laughter is akin to a toppled over bottle of heavenly voices--streaming out and pouring down. It's an ointment when my heart is troubled.

He smells of dirt and sweat and drool--the fragrance pleases me. It means he's playing and crawling and touching and feeling. Moving and seeing.

His eyes are so blue & I know no one could capture the color on a canvas or in a crayon box. And I'm glad.

They're his blue to carry.

Somewhere over the rainbow...

Pretty much since Wilder was born, I've been fantasizing about making him the coolest one-year birthday cake. Cake decorating is not as easy as it looks. I know this because I'm taking a Wilton class at Michael's this month.

Here is my first project (it's not perfect, but that makes it cute):



Hungry yet?

At first I wasn't a fan of the rainbow idea, but was pleased with the outcome.

We're going to learn how to do THE rose. I'll let you know how that goes!

K, off to get the Crisco off my hands, the sink, the counters...it's a messy job. And a yummy one at that!

Beach Baby

The "holy cow, he's cute!" factor just went up a notch:
Ok maybe a couple notches:
We've been swimming (Wilder even swam with buds Ori & Grey). Summer's here. I've learned I'll sacrifice anything for my boy (swimsuit in public?--Lord, be with me!).

Conclusions

I have come to the conclusion that I should never, ever cut my hair short or dye it dark:
Uh huh. Leave the pixie cuts to the 90-lb pixies.

Don't you love going through closets for garage sale inventory?

I have also concluded that Harold Symmes (1878-1910) was a crazy talented poet. It pains me to leave you with only two of his pieces. But do this I shall, as I know you have other places to be, other things to say, zillions of tender feelings to fashion, many dreams to mold...

Love's Rhythm

Because you heart went singing,
Mine sang too;
And straight my life went swinging
To a rhythmic, joyful ringing,
Because of you.

Because your heart must sorrow,
I grieve too;
In tears to-day, to-morrow,
A deeper life I borrow,
Because of you.

Because all love in giving
Bears love anew,
I greaten in this living
That hymns the one thanksgiving
Of loving you.

And this one, because my friends rock:

A Friend

He shared his every pleasure,
Gave all great-heartedly;
And yet I felt some treasure
Was still denied to me--

Something I could not borrow;
Something he would not lend;
Until he shared his sorrow.
Then--then he was a friend.

(derived from Harold Symmes' Children of the Shadow and Other Poems, New York Duffield and Company, 1911)

Garden of Eden

I've been keeping a secret from you.

No, I'm not pregnant! What am I? Crazy?

It's just that we've been friends for so long and I've failed to mention that I live next to the Garden of Eden! The National Enquirer can search no more!
...

Our neighbor lady spends every spare moment in her backyard. I've even seen her vacumming it with this wand thing. There's no grass; just these beds and millions of plants. She's let Shawn borrow some limb-trimmers...a subtle hint for him to "please trim all your stuff that is growing over into my yard."

She works days. I sneaked into her yard (life's all about taking risks, right?):




The sun kept going back behind the clouds, ruining my "lighting."

Maybe I'll post pics of my plants next. Yeah, right.