Busybusy Crafting Bee

I’m kind of tapped out for words right now; I’ve been really busy working on crafts & getting my house in some semblance of order.

So, I’m going to post some pictures of what I’ve been working on.

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Mother’s Day shadow box trees for my mom.

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Fairy Swing for the fairy garden my mom is making in her yard. It’s made entirely from woodbine, a pernicious vine I have growing on a trellis on the front of my house.

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A dresser my dad gave me. He stripped the old paint, & I filled holes, sanded & sealed it.  Good nuff.

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Yet another tree that went into my Etsy shop. I’ve since glued a piece of cork to the bottom to protect whatever surface
it sits on.

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One of my favorites so far, this is a cherry tree I made for my nephew’s boss.  I’ll be making another one for myself – SOON!

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A small wall hanging I made that I’ve put in the Etsy shop. I love the leaves, they’re almost a teal color, with gold rubbed on. 

And… the piece’ de resistance…
Something special for my dad for Father’s Day.

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Yes, this is an old measuring tape

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My grandson's handprints

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A tiny tree made from reclaimed copper wire

I know this gift is a little late for Father’s Day, but Mom & Dad were out of state for most of June, so I took a little extra time on it. I just put 2 coats of polyurethane on it tonight, & it’s ready to be gifted.  Dad does a lot more woodworking now that he’s retired, so I thought this would be fitting.

Hope you enjoyed seeing what has kept me so busy!

Now, I only have about 6 more projects currently in the works, so I’ll post pics of those as they progress.

G’nite!

Migraine

Morning comes, alarm beeping, needles piercing my scalp.

Migraine.

I shut the alarm off, even the act of reaching over my head causing the world to tilt, nausea rocking through me, and I grimace. 

I lay there for a few minutes, taking slow, shallow breaths, hoping the vertigo would subside… knowing it would instantly return as soon as I try to sit up… but my body tells me it has to reach the bathroom soon.

In a minute, I tell it silently.  Just give me a minute.  And I roll gingerly onto my side to prepare myself.

Finally, I catch my courage in a breath, slowly pushing myself to a seated position, head hanging.  The dizziness swirls, gorge rises as the thunderous pain in my head pounds. In time with my own heartbeat, it pulses- an evil clock tick-tock, tick…breathe…

My dog, Rosie, hops up from the floor and follows my swaying progress from bedroom to bathroom, nails clicking, sounding to me like a thousand soldiers marching in time behind me.

But I make it to the bathroom without falling down, and do what nature demands.

Wash my hands in cold water, slide their cool wetness over the back of my neck. Temporary relief, at best, it does not last.  But I can stand now, and I shuffle, zombie-style, down the hall to let Rosie outside.

Oh, God. Opening the back door…morning sunlight sears my retinas, the pain now a fiery thing that eats at me.  But Rosie is now out, & I can close the door again, blessed darkness a balm as I force myself back to the kitchen, and the medication.

Strong pills & cool water slide down my throat, a promise of relief and sleep ahead, but not instant.  And I have one more responsibility before I can collapse.

My phone lies on my mattress. I press the buttons to call in to work, wincing when one of my coworkers answers – it’s too loud TOOLOUD. But I pull it away from my head only a little so she can hear me ask for the supervisor.

My tongue feels swollen, thick & stumbling over the simple words.  My voice, hoarse & crackling.

“I’m sorry, I won’t make it in today. I have a migraine.”

Finishing the call, I lay the phone back down, rearranging myself on the bed, looking for the coolest spot in the sheets.  Knowing relief is waiting 15 more minutes down the line when the drugs kick in…and I will sleep.

And knowing, that the only ones out there who understand the difference between headache & migraine are the ones who’ve been on this same hell’s journey, the gruesome ticking bomb of a clock pounding in their head, the invasion of overstimulation…sight, sound, smell, taste…all overwhelming, all too much, until you have to seek oblivion just for a moment’s rest.

The absence of pain is the miracle we await.

And, as the wave of narcotics rolls over me, I take my first deep breath of the day…roll over, and fade into the cool darkness behind my eyelids.

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Tuesdays are for Nonsense and Musings

Musings:

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I want someone who will introduce me to his friends with a silly grin on his face.

Someone who, when I’m in a bad mood, knows to just let me be mad…and then when to coax me out of it with a smile, a kiss & a hug.

Someone who will let me take care of him when he’s not feeling well, instead of being a big, tough bastard who needs no one.

Someone not afraid of the commitment I need in my life. I need that, and haven’t had it for a very long time… including when I was married.  He was committed to remaining married, but he had no desire to commit to loving me, or even liking me, very much.  I need to know that the man in my life wants ME, with all that entails.

I’ve been talking to/involved with someone long distance for almost 2 years now, and I’m hoping that he’ll be able to come here soon. (It’s a long way from there to here, but we’re working on it)

He wants the whole shebang. Family, home, love, a life together, forever and ever, amen. 

And I sit here, just hoping… crossing fingers/eyes/toes… because I’ve had it all fall apart too many times, leaving me alone.

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And now, for the Nonsense:

I gave Schnicklefritz, the Toddler Tornado,  a haircut last night. Buzzed on the sides and back, and just long enough on top to give him a “faux hawk”. I would post a pic, but I was not allowed to paparazzi him. Some days he loves the camera, other days…not so much.

EldestDaughter & Schnicklefritz are going to see family in Iowa this weekend, and OnlySon is headed to his father’s after school lets out for the summer tomorrow… contemplating a weekend alone, you say?

Enter tragic drama with YoungerDaughter! Roommate troubles are bringing her home for some “Mommy and Sympathy” time. A little late-night binge tv, some desperately unhealthy snacks, & some thrift shopping is what’s on the menu… along with some house cleaning.

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Gramma, I love you! And the dirt pile in Great-Grandma’s yard. Hugs??

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My dad stripped this of many years’ worth of paint, & I wood – filled some nail holes, sanded the top, & sprayed 3 coats of semi-gloss polyurethane on. New brushed nickel drawer pulls & nailed the lock covers back on.

I like it just how it is, stripped of artifice, with the evidence of the past still marking it, ever so slightly, but shielded from the elements, put back together, & made useful again.

Hmm, maybe some Musings among the Nonsense.

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Project in Progress

There are a lot of things going on at my house simultaneously, these days.

EldestDaughter is packing, in preparation to move into her own place. Hopefully soon. She’s just waiting on the housing lady to contact her.

Dear Goddess, let it be soon – we’re both getting tired of living with each other.

I’m packing up YoungerDaughter’s room. Moving her stuff into storage, considering she hasn’t lived here all year, & has no plans of ever moving back in. She has been in an apartment with some friends all year, is staying there through the summer for summer school, & has 1 year left of college.

Highly unlikely she’ll ever sleep in the room next to mine again. Why is her stuff still here?

HellifIknow.

I’m working on multiple furniture restoration projects at the moment. *shrug* Why take them on? I need the dresser, and the other 2 projects – a nightstand & a re-covered seat for a vanity table… well, they’re spare time fun.

I’m still working on bonsai trees, and have other art projects I’m going to be experiment  with. 

I made my mom a swing for her fairy garden out of some woodbine (vine-like trellis herpes- it won’t go away, no matter what I do)

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*shrug* spare time sitting on my front step. 

And about those trees… here’s some of the latest:

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Mother’s Day present for my Mom.

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Mother’s Day present for a coworker’s mom.

And here are a couple of the latest to go up in my shop on Etsy – Just How I’m Wired

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As you can see, I’m branching out into applying the trees to stones.

So, between one thing and my mother, I’m a little busy.

And yet, I still have time to obsess about shit I can’t change, control, or affect.

Insomnia can suck it.

I’M the project in process.

https://www.etsy.com/shop/JustHowImWired

I Don’t Think That’s What They Meant

I’ve always known that reading to my kids was good for them.

Expanding their horizons, showing them different worlds, different people, cultures, ideas, crammed in the pages of a bound book.

And there are books on all sorts of topics for kids now.

Books just for the pleasure of reading an entertaining story, books for education.

There are books for potty-training, for bed-time, for learning to deal with siblings, leaning to cope with the death of a pet, learning how to be better at this or that, for learning everything from alphabets to zydeco music playing.

I know that reading – reading almost anything – broadens anyone’s mind, not just a child’s.

But – the other night, I added a twist.

OnlySon is 16.  And he and I both understand that he’s far more esoterically knowledgeable than most people think.  We talk to each other in a manner most wouldn’t expect a parent to talk to a 16 yr. old.

I talk to him more as I would another adult.  Well, at least, another adult who just so happens to be my 16 yr. old child.  There are still some subjects we both agree are not appropriate, not – ugh – comfortable for either of us.  And our agreement works.

He can handle it – and he respects me for respecting that about him.

So, the other night, I was reading a new book I’d picked up at the book store – Augusten Burrough’s “Magical Thinking”.

It’s a hilarious set of stories about things that have happened to him in his own life.  And he freely admits that he’s “emotionally damaged goods”, so, even while I can feel bad about the fucked up things he’s had to experience growing up, and since, I can laugh along with him as he laughs at himself.

I sat and chuckled, snickered, and gut-busted laughed for 2 hours straight after bringing this home and immediately sitting down to enjoy it.

Of course, OnlySon had to know what was so funny.

So – I read a chapter – out loud – to him.

All about how Augusten had found a “rat/thing” in his bathroom, and proceeded to destroy it, then to go on to practically destroy his bathroom in order to rid himself of the taint of the rat/thing’s infestation of his life.

It’s funnier in the book.

And, after hearing the story, my son proceeded to tell me about a story he’d read – about a man who’d chugged half a soda, only to find a ground up frog in the can…..

The things we do to one another for the sake of a good story. *urp*

Later than night, I was standing in the bathroom, contemplating the meaning of life (brushing my teeth, actually, but close enough), when I heard EldestDaughter downstairs.  The cadence and rhythm of her voice told me she was reading a new story to the ToddlerTornado.

And I was struck by the coincidence, and the slight difference of the subject matter we’d each chosen to read to our sons.

At least… well, leaning out of the bathroom, I was pretty sure my new book was still sitting by my chair.

I don’t think that’s what they meant when the “experts” said “Read to Your Children”.

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Shaky Days

I’ve been avoiding posting, for a while. These last couple weeks have been anxiety-ridden, and I simply haven’t felt much like writing about it.  My medication has been pretty much all that’s held me from vibrating to pieces.

The days have been shaky & full of equal parts joyous anticipation – and wary dread.

The nights have been riddled with insomnia & over analyzation.

The tension hasn’t ended; in fact, it’s still growing,  because the time is drawing near for E to arrive.

And I’m not completely sure how I am going to handle it.

What if he’s disappointed? What if, after all this time… it’s not everything he wanted? What if I’m not everything he’s built me up to be?

What if I fall off the pedestal he’s put me on?

Please…Goddess…let him love me for who I really am.

2 years of talking.
Please don’t let this be in vain.

Don’t break my heart -again.

Please.