The Snowlady Mantel

My Cold Hands/Warm Heart snowlady wall-hanging comes out each January to dress up our mantel.

It might look a little familiar to fans of this month's banner.  (The blog banner, not our vintage New Year's banner.)

It's amazing now to think the original pattern was worked in blacks and tans like some of my other snowmen.

My colors were inspired by the turquoise snowman fabric I used as my border.   I like to think that I couldn't have resisted those colorful snowmen even at quilt store prices, but at fifty percent off--well, I'm not one to quarrel with fate.

I started shopping our cottage for anything that reminded me of snowmen, snowladies, or snowflakes.  Glass candleholders from the dining room, silver vases hidden in the laundry room cupboard, white mini-lights from atop the china cabinet...

A platter usually on the holiday table instead of the mantel, a tall wedding and a short anniversary vase, old christening cups...

eventually a bit of lace as an experiment to disguise the electrical cord and a mental note to find a long enough scrap for future use.

I discovered that an unused spiky vase, turned upside down, made a great pillar candlestand.

I stacked and tweaked and gathered more, then rearranged until I was satisfied.

The Christmas mantel seems like a dream from a distant time now.

My four little elves are enjoying their well-deserved rest in an out-of-the-way corner of the workroom.


Instead our benificent snowladies watch over us while we are cozily tucked up on the sofa. 

Netflix watched by the light of snowflakes are even more magical.

Joining Show and Tell Friday at My Romantic Home--so many wonderful ideas, so little time!

An Award

To: Meadowsweet Cottage
From: pogonip

Congratulations!

The Bad Blogger Award  
(Nope, too negative--and I don't do negative.)

The January Doldums Award
(Hmm, truthful, but lacking that je ne sais quoi. Even adding some fancy francais won't help.)

The Currently-Uninspired-But-I-Know-You'll-Think-of-Something-Soon! Award
(Yep, that pretty much fits.)

 There are lots of projects that are almost, but not quite, finished due to cold weather.  It's been much more fun to sit in a nice cozy home with Google Reader and revel in other bloggers DIYs.

There are other ideas that have been set aside while enjoying visitors and the December holidays.  My brain is still having trouble switching over to lacy pink Valentine thoughts and twittery flowering springtime bunnies.

If you're thinking to yourself, "Pshaw." And/or "What a load of bunk!"  you'd be right.  I have a truckload of excuses ranging from surprise visits to computer trouble, but I have to admit that the real actual trouble is that  I'm bogged down in  a bit of a blogging slump.  They happen to us all.

It's true that I need to put one more coat of polycrylic on the desk redo and then somehow stage it for photos in our overcrowded and cluttered garage.  And if I could remember where I put the silver leaf I could finish the last step in my Dollar Store to mercury glass birdies.  Or I could show you my holiday redwork embroidery that warmed my heart if I hadn't given it all away before I took photos.  I'm much better at blogging when I can share a project with you all.

I just don't  know what's happened to my motivation.  As Malvina Reynolds put it in one of her songs, My get up and go has got up and went.

I can't blame the weather because this last week was positively springlike with melting pondwater, singing songbirds and balmy weather that was pretty unusual for a northern Nevada January.  (Not that I dislike our normal January weather which previously brought two ethereal days of pogonip.)

I'm like a torpid old lizard, too cold to move.  I need to shake my boo-tay, use it or lose it, move and groove.  I've been sitting in one place way too long.  I could use someone to drag me outdoors for a long heartwarming hike.  

I'm suffering from a lack of exercise, is all.  And you kind folks have suffered through my rambling pity party as my fingers on the keyboard worked through the how's and why's of my little slump.
 
Insert Giant cleansing breath here.  Ahhhhh.  That feels much better.  

Next up:  a pre-dinner jog around the block and crafting a post about my January snowlady mantel.  I'm leery of promising anything, but I'm trusting that my run will provide enough energy to spark my brain cells into some sort of creativity.


Wish me luck!

Looks Like Chicken Scratch to Me

Or is it some sort of Mayan egg code?  Is she trying to tell me something?

 

What?

On the positive side, possibly Sophia is trying to thank me for the thick bed of straw they have. Or expressing her delight at the delicious kitchen scraps provided regularly. Or maybe she's just as happy with fifty degree days and no snow as I am.

But I'm afraid she's been giving me that look.  That chicken look.

"We demand more free range time."

"I thought our coop was going to look like this."

 

"You promised to teach us to play soccer ages ago.  I hope you don't expect us to use this pathetic excuse for a ball."

They know how much I love having fresh eggs so they ask for the world.

I'm hen-pecked.  (And content to have it so.)

Ninety Years of Wisdom

I don't know why I haven't run across this before, but I had to share for those of you who either haven't read it or haven't read it in a while.

Written by Regina Brett (her reputed age of 90 is an urban legend, she's actually in her fifties) of the Plain Dealer, Cleveland, Ohio. I hope she does live to be ninety because her list should be even more awe-inspiring then as she adds gems to her philosophy.

• Life isn't fair, but it's still good.
• When in doubt, just take the next small step.
• Life is too short to waste time hating anyone.
• Your job won't take care of you when you are sick. Your friends and parents will. Stay in touch.
• Pay off your credit cards every month.
• You don't have to win every argument. Agree to disagree.
• Cry with someone. It's more healing than crying alone.
• It's OK to get angry with God. He can take it.
• Save for retirement starting with your first paycheck.
• When it comes to chocolate, resistance is futile.
• Make peace with your past so it won't screw up the present.
• It's OK to let your children see you cry.
• Don't compare your life to others. You have no idea what their journey is all about.
• If a relationship has to be a secret, you shouldn't be in it.
• Everything can change in the blink of an eye. But don't worry; God never blinks.
• Take a deep breath It calms the mind.
• Get rid of anything that isn't useful, beautiful or joyful.
• Whatever doesn't kill you really does make you stronger.
• It's never too late to have a happy childhood. But the second one is up to you and no one else.
• When it comes to going after what you love in life, don't take no for an answer.
• Burn the candles, use the nice sheets, wear the fancy lingerie.
• Don't save it for a special occasion. Today is special.
• Over prepare, then go with the flow.
• Be eccentric now. Don't wait for old age to wear purple.
• The most important sex organ is the brain.
• No one is in charge of your happiness but you.
• Frame every so-called disaster with these words 'In five years, will this matter?'
• Always choose life.
• Forgive everyone everything.
• What other people think of you is none of your business.
• Time heals almost everything. Give time time.
• However good or bad a situation is, it will change.
• Don't take yourself so seriously. No one else does.
• Believe in miracles.
• God loves you because of who God is, not because of anything you did or didn't do.
• Don't audit life. Show up and make the most of it now.
• Growing old beats the alternative -- dying young.
• Your children get only one childhood.
• All that truly matters in the end is that you loved.
• Get outside every day. Miracles are waiting everywhere.
• If we all threw our problems in a pile and saw everyone else's,we'd grab ours back.
• Envy is a waste of time. You already have all you need.
• The best is yet to come...
• No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up.
• Yield.
• Life isn't tied with a bow, but it's still a gift.

Don't you love them?  Me too--especially the tenth one.  

They remind me of  The Happiness Project which I recently discovered; I'm happily enjoying the wisdom and hints I find there.  The sidebars have mucho goodies and I recommend dropping by and recharging your soul when you get a moment.

Speaking about happy:  My heart beats Nevada Blue and while I'm thrilled our team won their bowl game over Boston College yesterday, I'm proudest of the comment ESPN made about Colin Kaepernick--that he's more than a good quarterback, he's a good person.  I'm appreciative of Coach Ault and his staff who recruit players with character as well as talent.  We could use more coaches like him in all sports--a passionate, creative, demanding taskmaster who cares about his student athletes as well as his win-loss record.

Getting off my soapbox and going off to school instead,

My Guideposts -- Week50

Love begins at home, and it is not how much we do... but how much love we put in that action.

~Mother Teresa

I'll be working on adding more of that secret ingredient to my cooking and cleaning,

A Sigh of Relief

If only my outdoor lights would unhook themselves, discard burned-out bulbs and coil themselves nicely away.

If only our annual Tannebaum could magically direct ornaments into their proper boxes, remove light strings, seek out dropped ornament hangers, vacuum up tinsel remnants and stray needles. Oh, and move sofas back to the accustomed positions!

If only someone could invent a gadget to alert me to those inevitable bits of holiday decorating that elude our first sweep, my second search and the hopeful last scan of all nooks and corners that might be harboring a holiday fugitive.

Despite the absence of self-coiling lights, helpful trees and handy gadgets, I can officially report that Not One Single Bit of Christmas is left inside or outside the cottage. Yep, it's all put away in the appropriate box, bin and cupboard.  I'm just grateful happy thrilled ecstatic relieved that it's all put away!

I now have time to tweak the turquoise snowladies, silver and crystal sparkles and white lights that have gradually been making their appearance.  And take photos of  the new mantle decor.  And tackle those siren-like craft projects that have been beckoning--some of which might even be worth sharing!

Buoyantly,

My Feathered Rainbow

Frodo

aka Mr. Underhill

 

Yeah, we're Tolkien fans.  And Frodo would burrow under my vest or sweater when he was a baby--hence his name.

We had him since he graduated from nest to cage bottom.  The Queen Mother's former neighbor was a parakeet lover and incidental breeder (leave twenty male and female parakeets together in a large cage and eventually you'll have more than twenty).  In the mild California climate, they lived outdoors year round.  I'd never seen any parakeets colored quite like hers and I was thrilled.  See all the color in Frodo's wing?  Most parakeets a la PetSmart have gray wings.  Sunshine yellow head.  And his face dots--deepest purple. Turquoise and glacier green body.  Intense cobalt tail feathers.  And as sweet as he was beautiful.

Frodo enjoyed getting the run of the house while I baked Christmas pie, kneaded bread and cooked cranberry sauce.  Most of the time he perched on my hair and supervised, but he decided to stretch his wings and inspect the Christmas decorations too.

Four days after this photo session, we found him on the bottom of his cage.  He'd flown to heaven and left us behind.  He had a good long life, but it was a sad end to our year.

I've spent the past week remembering his baby days when he'd cuddle...how he'd perch on my shoe while we sat in the recliner and watched TV...how he loved baths under the kitchen faucet...his extensive environmental vocabulary--our squeaky door, dog whistles, tinkling bells...his love of spinach leaves which he ate like a kid munching corn on the cob...trying his best to chat with our vacuum cleaner and blender...times when callers would ask how many birds we had when talking on the phone...how he played with silverware and loved getting it to drop off the dining table...how the frustrated dad in him would have him feeding the next best thing to a baby bird--the shiny bell in his cage...his appreciation of the tiny rhinestones in my reading glasses.  He wasn't our family's first parakeet, but he was my first.  Thinking about it, he would have been special even if he wasn't--he was an extraordinary character.

How can such a little bundle, weighing next to nothing, have been such a large part of our lives?

I miss you,  Frodo-bug.