Visiting Halloween

I still pinch myself to have found this wonderful community of women who so generously inspire with their creativity. I have so enjoyed each and every blog that I have visited this Halloween season and have spent this day making the crafts that I have found...... with some rather funny results!

Has anyone checked to see if Vivian's shoes are pointy?  Anyone who decorates this fabulously and colorfully and delightfully spooky just has to have a Witch Hat or two to be found.

And she has a gaggle of friends who know how to party black and orange. I love that Vivian and her friends will get together to make such Cute as Can Be decorations. "Oh my gosh!", I told myself. "If I can't join them, I can at least have an adorable spider or two of my own!"

Vivian's post should read, "Don't try this at home!" Yi yi yi, what travail I had crafting these cuties. Note to self, print an image of said cute spiders. After painting their heads ORANGE, I thought something did not look right.....several trips to the computer later.....they look like me! Even their legs, all six of them are straight!

A stop next to see Laurie's fabulous vintage Halloween collections in her beautiful home that seems to be THE PLACE for witches to gather,

had me thinking again that I could make the cute, fat black cat with his buckle belt. I did make an image this time .....

but something went terribly wrong in the glitter department. Martha Stewart, are you telling me that glitter called "Caraba Marble" is not the same glitter I usually use even thought it looks EXACTLY the same? My cat looks like he has the MANGE!

AND how did I miss that Laurie's cat is suppose to have arms!!! I made a mangy AND armless cat!

So how do you know when you have come to your Halloween crafting limit for the month? WHEN YOUR DRIVER'S LICENSE EXPIRES!!!! Glue gun unplugged, Caraba Marble glitter set aside, a trip to Michael's for Christmas glitter can not be delayed a single moment!

AND THEN there was the "bird" behind the counter who would not look at me as she spoke words she utters hundreds of times a day. "Put my glasses on? Take them off? The line to the left? The line to the right? Do I want to donate my kidneys???  I CAN'T UNDERSTAND A WORD YOU ARE SAYING." (Diane's lovely bird).

And just ONE MORE THING my Dear Friends. I only needed one more little teeny tiny bow for my witch ornaments, and above you see how much red gingham ribbon I had left. BUT THE GOOD NEWS IS....

My last ribbon was made, Cute as Can Be ornaments on their way to Lynn. (please contact me with your address at elizabeth.andrus@yahoo.com)

"You're Going to Make it After All" MTM

There comes a day when every teenager's desire to have their own spending money pushes them into the work-a-day world of adulthood. For me this day coincided with a new boyfriend and the need for a wardrobe to impress. If the newly built indoor Mall was the Place to Be, J.R. Harris was the store for me.

With every word of wisdom my parents had ever given me filling the molecules of my being, I entered the refined ambiance that was J. R. Harris. Powder blue alcoves fitted with French Provincial settees, the latest in apparel ushered in an out of shuttered dressing rooms, larger size discretely required.

The manager stood behind the check-out counter, her minions hurridly attending to orders barked left and right. I had never seen a more homely looking woman. Nearly six feet tall with a pancake flat face, lips the color of blood red, fingernails to match. After my carefully practiced introduction, she spoke in the deepest voice I had ever heard. "I like your manners. You're hired!"

I couldn't have spent more happy days than those spent at J.R. Harris where friends were made and sales were compared from little slips of paper kept within our pockets. Paycheck garments set aside, boyfriend visits to admire, stolen kisses before exiting the store. Cloud Nine belonged solely to me, or so I thought.

Customer after customer my greeting remained the same, "Welcome to J.R. Harris, how may I help you this evening?" Customer after customer remarked, "You're voice is so melodic, you sound just like the lady on "Mary Tyler Moore"! Puffed with pride that my emulation of my personal hero was being validated, I finally had the courage to respond, "Thank you so much, I love Mary Tyler Moore."   

To which my cloud began to rain, "Oh No! Not her! You sound just like Ted Baxter's wife Georgette!" At this very moment, my manager came and put her arm around my shoulder and boomed to the customers, "That's why I hired her. I like that show!"

Please do not Pin pattern to Pinterest.

Unexpected

It is late here in the Heart of Ohio, my crafting for the day at it's end, my thoughts collected and ready to share, unexpected revelations to drift me off to sleep.

Friendship usually kept at a safe distance was today allowed to wash over me like sunlight on a hillside. My entire person felt lighter and unexpectedly at home. Personal stories shared in the past did not mark me forever, "damaged goods" as I thought they always did.

The bravery it takes to declare the unexpected is bravery I most admire. To know in your heart that your core being does not change in unwanted circumstances is affirmation that those you call friend have often told you so.

I am so thankful that so many of us have told our sweet Renee that she does not stand alone in the days ahead. She stands with the support of her many friends.

And this is not at all unexpected.

Gourdeously Green

It must have been, when my parents built our new home at the top of our hilly neighborhood, that the woman of the house was asked to choose between three colors for the interior of her home. Tan, blue, or green. My mother obviously chose green, because every single room of our new home was one value or another of the verdant shade.

But it wasn't just the walls and appliances that were green; so too were the carpets, the draperies, the bedspreads and the furniture slip covers. Everything was green! This was the setting I invited my handsome boyfriend into for the first time, wearing, of course, his green Airman's fatigues!

Sitting nearly camouflaged on the living room couch, my father posed a question to the face that had just separated from mine, "Patrick, do you have a stocking knit cap?" My spine stiffened. A brilliant professor by day, one lacking common sense by evening, I knew in my heart this query could only lead to an embarrassing outcome. "No, Mr. Keily I don't have a hat. Why do you need one?"

My father grumbled, "Elizabeth's mother keeps this house too cold. I don't want a draft to touch my head, I think I'm catching a cold."  As I prayed to disappear, my father did just that. We could hear him rummaging in the kitchen and then his heavy foot falls on the plush green pile that led to his bedroom.

All was blessedly, quietly normal until my Airman suggested we check on my father's well being. My tip toes followed his to my father's bedroom and peeked over his shoulder to see what he was already seeing. I gasped to see not my father's expected head upon his pillow, but a BROWN PAPER BAG! As the shape rose upon it's elbows, I quickly slammed shut the bedroom door as my father's voice came to me from a single slit cut for air, "What's wrong Lizzy?" 

On the day I would marry my Airman, my father drew me close and asked me, "Are you sure you want to marry this boy?" I thought to myself about the distance a lifetime of embarrassing situations had caused between us and how my Airman in green taught me to be proud and to love my father again because he did. I shyly put my arms around my father's waist and answered into his chest, "Yes Dad, I love him."

Please do not Pin pattern to Pinterest.

Halloween Orange

I love that Halloween affords us the opportunity to celebrate the color ORANGE. It's a very neglected color the rest of the year; but in this month of all things spooky, it can be found on every blog I visit. 

Holly's Pumpkin Shakers are just the cutest pair of orange pumpkin eaters I have ever seen. I just love their "close friends". Holly shares the pattern and an easy to follow tutorial at Cotton Pickin Fun .

It was such fun crafting this duo of orange deliciousness. Holly has the best idea for constructing the crepe paper collars that I know I will always use now.

I have also learned from Holly not to be afraid to combine different materials when I am crafting with felt. I would never have thought to use paper clay or tissue with my felt. Smile! I am so happy to know this!

To borrow a line from "When Harry Met Sally", "I feel like I'm evolving." (PS My all time favorite movie!)

 

And speaking of orange, can you believe I am out of orange pipe cleaners AGAIN! Gotta love that Halloween Orange!

The New Thirty

Driving to our hometown's football game this evening, my husband expressed that he was sorry he will be out of town for my birthday. He glanced over at me and asked, "How old are you going to be?"

I answered him in the manner I do when anyone asks me this question, "I'm in my late 50's". My husband looked at me again, "You're not in your late 50's, why do you tell people you are?"

My response begins, "Well they say 50 is the New Thirty, and I absolutely don't look like I'm 30; so I say nearly 60 which is the New 40 which I'm much closer to than 30.

My husband looks at me quizzically, "Why don't you just tell people your real age?"

I continue, "If I tell people I am much older than I actually am, they'll think I look good for my age.When I'm 60 I'm going to say I'm nearly 70 which is the new 50, you know. It's why I've retired from working so early. I want to be even with you, 65!"

My Dear Sweet Husband turned once again towards me and said, "As long as we have many more years together, I don't care how old you are!"

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Rapping on the Window

It seemed my childhood was filled with parental pleading to do something, anything, to make my brother conform to my expectations of sibling behavior. My mother would always respond, "What would you have us do to him, he's not punishable!"  This theory was made evident to me one Hallows Eve.

Wanting to make sure the most efficient route was taken to collect the most candy in their pillow cases, John and his like minded friend knocked on the door of each of our neighbors home in the after-school hours preceding Halloween to ask if they would be handing out candy.

As they short-cut their steps past a corner lot split level, they could see a young couple sitting on their rec-room couch passionately embraced and kissing. Nothing could be more enticing to two eight year old boys, they rapped on the window and hurried on their way. A plot to return that evening already in their thoughts.

Dressed in their costumes, two heads spotted once again through the window, the boys prepared to wrap on the window. They were startled to find a hand on each of their shoulders. Escorted steps home, each more fearful than the next.

Answering the firm ringing of our doorbell, this sister could not believe her eyes at the sight of her brother's face and hands covered in our mother's wig, his very full lips squeezed through a slit made to breath.

My mother called to the door could barely contain her giggling as her son's lips opened and closed like a fish gasping it's last breath pleading for any help at all. My mother assured the young newlywed MINISTER that her son would not bother the young couple again.

My brother promptly retreated to his bedroom only to return to our living room again, his pillow case nearly reaching his knees, another with eyes and mouth circles cut, his lips once again giving his identity away. There was no punishing this determined Trick or Treater!

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