Point, Shoot and Hoot with Laughter

I begin this post with my boots, a flash, and a disclaimer that while I did have the same boots on (I have worn two different boots out - not on purpose), I took only my point and shoot camera and had a ball because I didn't shoot for beauty, but for fun.

I wasn't in the mood to shoot, but to have a good time, which did not include being behind the lens. My day started at 5:30 AM and I just now found my little "thingy" that allows me to download my card to my computer from this new little point and shoot camera. My adventure took place this last Feb with a bunch of girlfriends, and while the photos aren't too pretty, the fun was fab and girls are gorgeous to me...

The story really begins with "Flat Wendy." Actually, our good friend, Renee, was turning 50. Her sister, Wendy, who lives in Wisconsin, set up a wonderful surprise party, and we gals here in St. Louis got in on it and had a ball surprising Renee all day long.

We all met at Debbie's house at 6 AM and Renee lives across the street from Debbie. We all park far away and walk, and this happens to be in Feb - a VERY cold day!

Gretchen and Debbie make breakfast-to-go - look at the goodies.  No McDonalds with this crafty bunch. I am barely awake...I am not a morning person, but we are all excited, as Renee, the Queen of Shopping, thinks she is just meeting only Debbie to go to an estate sale - she hasn't a clue...

We (Gretchen, Flat Wendy, Carol and me...not in this photo, that is Debbie) all wait in the kitchen quietly holding a banner as Renee and Debbie walk in (gabbing away of course) and she turns the corner and this is what we see from Renee....

We just told her how much Wendy wished she could have driven down for the party, but since she couldn't, a version of herself came instead, and that is when Renee finally noticed "Flat Wendy."

We are all sure that Renee just did a little pee here...she is a "pee girl"....we all know and love her...but put a towel down on a long car trip that is sure to be filled with laughter and cut down on the sodas....

The time and trouble it took to get "Flat Wendy" to St. Louis is hilarious and only Wendy with her Wisconsin accent could tell the story correctly, but needless to say, it would have been cheaper for Wendy herself to have flown down herself! All week long, Debbie hid Flat Wendy in her hallway, and every time Debbie turned around, she gave herself a heart attack thinking someone was standing in the hallway!

While we were inside, Pete, Renee's husband, was outside decorating the van that Gretchen rented for our surprise trip...

We told Renee that we were taking her to her favorite shop, Whimsy...in a town that is a little over 4 hours away in Morris, IL.  

As the sun broke, we took out the trays that Gretchen brought (with rubber mats even) and opened up our beautiful lunch bags made by Debbie (I only eat, I don't craft, remember?) and we enjoyed a tasty breakfast that only a girl of 50 deserves...

Carol in the back and with Gretchen the driver and Debbie next to me, I think I got the best seat in the house...surrounded by the best company anyone could ask for!

Four hours and four pee stops later (I know you want all the details here), we all depart our van and take Flat Wendy with us on our adventure...

In keeping with the Flat Stanley, we decided that Flat Wendy should have her photo taken everywhere we go as well...Flat Stanley isn't the only one who gets out and sees the world...we are in MORRIS, IL, after all!

Renee poses with her sister, Flat Wendy, so happy that her sister was so thoughtful to send a substitute and we all laugh so hard...and have so much fun....

But as Renee poses with Flat Wendy, the REAL Wendy hops out of the store and surprises Renee and we all thought Renee was going to pee in her pants...we never laughed so hard!

 But it isn't over...out hops Mary, Renee's sister-in-law who said she couldn't make it either!

This is the best photo I got of all of us...but it reminded me of those old vintage photos so I put it in sepia...we had a ball.  Now it was time to enter Whimsy! The best store ever and look how we all attacked Renee the moment she entered the store:

Tracy, owner of Whimsy went through a lot of work to craft the crown, made up her store just for Renee and later made more things for Renee...Tracy is a very talented and sweet girl. Check out her site here:  Whimsy!

Now the party is starting! Tracy had drinks waiting for us in her store...how sweet of her! 

Renee and Gretchen and Tracy, store owner, and her lovely mother who helped her out on this special day.

Inside of Whimsy...wonderfully delicious!

Flat Wendy - now the store greeter...

Now a surprise luncheon at a tea room down the road that Tracy and Wendy (not the Flat one) set up for Renee....loved it...she is looking for the bathroom she is so excited....

There is Tracy...isn't she a doll? Talented, pretty, smart...want to hate her, but can't...she is too adorable.  Remember, Whimsy!

Above...close up of the crown that Tracy made for Renee...and below...well...what can I say? Only gal pals could give another gal pal Depends as a gift....to celebrate 50! It is Renee after all...very handy....

Okay, this will take a minute, but so worth it...don't look down yet...keep reading...

Wendy gives Renee a box as a gift and tells us all this story. Wendy is older than Renee. When Wendy married, she tells us that Renee gave her a wedding gift (I believe this wedding gift was about 30 years ago?) and what was so special was that Renee at that time, MADE the wrapping paper for Wendy's wedding gift. 

Well, Wendy was so touched by Renee's making the wrapping paper, that she KEPT the wrapping paper all these years and now as she is telling the story, Renee is opening up the box that Wendy just handed her....

Inside the box is THE wrapping paper that Renee had made Wendy all those years ago and now remember...all day long, you will remember, we are surrounded by all sorts of crafty women....

Gretchen and Debbie treating us to this beautiful breakfast in the van with beautiful tags, bags and ball jars filled with yogurt and then Flat Wendy that was sent to us, and then Tracy creating a beautiful crown and the lunch table and gift bags and the beautiful cake and on and on....all these beautiful, crafty very talented things all day long we experienced....

And then Renee opens up the box and pulls out the wrapping paper she crafted for Wendy's wedding so long ago and turns it around for us to see......

OMG!!!We ALL BURST OUT LAUGHING with tears!!!! We could not stop and just kept laughing and laughing....and finally someone asked Renee...."Now how old were you when you made this?" And she said very sincerely, "About 19." 

And ALL of us in unison, just BURST OUT laughing so hard, our sides ached and we just couldn't stop laughing.....and the joke is that both Renee and I are the "uncrafty" ones of the group...but now she is TRULY the uncrafty one!

So I ask Tracy to come over and pose with Renee and to point to her crafty crown and for Renee to point to her "crafty wrapping paper" so we can see the difference in talent.....and we all burst out laughing...I love how she made the wrapping paper eyes go to the side and we all decided that was very "crafty and imaginative"!  

And here are the sisters and the beloved paper. I told Renee that she needs to frame that paper and hang it up in her house....how cool is it that her sister kept that paper for so long??? I still laugh out loud whenever I see that paper....

I felt much better after that little stunt because my gift was next, which Renee is already flipping out because it came in a leather French collar box. Yes, I tempted to craft something...very daring of me in a room full of real crafters...but after that wrapping paper fiasco, I was in the clear!

I made her a French Collar Wrist Corsage. I pulled out some REAL French stuff from my private stash.  If you hang in there...at the end of my post, I show you how I made it and even let you peek into my stash in my junky-ass basement....

Headed home now, and Debbie is crammed in the back with our goodies and we found lots!! Look how her arm is smashed...but look at her smile.


And can you find Renee's crown in the photo? She wore that darn thing ALL the way home and into every gas station and rest stop!

The surprises aren't over! Her parents drove down from Wisconsin as well and are waiting for her in her house. It is her dad's birthday as well. She has NO idea they are in her house waiting for her and she just walked in and I barely caught her reaction....

She finally took off her crown and looked in the mirror behind her and yelled, "Yikes! I have crown head!" And put the crown back on! Hahahha.

I'm so glad  found my "thingy" so I could finally download my photos from my little camera! I wasn't about to buy another one - too expensive...but I am glad to share my time with my gals.


Below are photos from my time spent crafting Renee's French Cuff Wrist Corsage:

The photos pretty much show all you need to know. I pulled out my real deal stuff for her special day. I took an old cuff, sewed on vintage buttons as decoration and put on Velcro on the inside to make it easy to fit over the wrist. Took an old lace piece and threaded silk ribbon through it and pulled tight and glued it to the cuff and added trinkets. Scroll up to Renee wearing the cuff and and you can see what it looked like on her....

And below are scrolls I printed on old pages with some photos I printed up.  Debbie made some belly bands to go around them and at the end of the party, we all got one and unrolled it, read it aloud and then filled it in and gave it to her to put in a scrap book that Debbie made for her special day.

And while all the craft photos are pretty and such, and the real French stuff..the stuff I call the "real deal," looks dandy...well I thought you would get a kick out of the "real deal" when it comes to my basement and the steps I have to go down to get to my fancy-schmancy French stash......

I know...nice, right?  And see that dark line across the top of the photo? That isn't a dark line...that is a wall!  I must duck down as I go down the steps (and up) or risk knocking myself out...which I have done several times.  And see the plaster knocked off the wall and on the sides? That is from years of loading up and down the steps all sorts of inventory and totes as I quickly duck down and crash the tote (always load them too heavy) and lean against the wall so I don't fall, and chip away the wall over time....or...I drop the tote or whatever I am carrying and it tumbles down and crashes, and then falls down to the right and down to the floor....very graceful over here.

And in the dark, back corner of my dingy basement....lies the golden grail....or in my case...a big black tote. But it is filled with treasures from my trips to France, Germany and Belgium that I have kept over the years and pull out only on special occasions when I find a use for them in the home or for gifts or when I am going to sew....

SOMEDAY...you wait...I will have a really nice basement with steps that require no ducking and wide enough that I don't have to toss stuff down ahead of me so I don't kill myself...someday....sigh....

Here are just a few of the things...if I show more...then my stuff won't be a surprise for those who may be a recipient, now would it?  ;-)  I do love digging in here for photo shoots, or when I redid my living room and needed a drape for my single front window and found a beautiful hotel French curtain with the large lace piece in the center (it was posted). Or when I needed stuff for my wedding and dug around in here...an ugly trunk. Which is good. A thief would just walk right past it.  Never judge a book by its cover!!

I hope you enjoyed my day with my gal pals and my crafting project. No matter if crafty or not, no matter how ugly the trunk, or how bad the steps to get to the stash....it's the heart of the matter that matters. 


And gal pals get that.


And I know you do too...that's why I share with you the not so pretty basement that holds the good stash!


from my house to your house,

Fresh Start with Old Traditions

Hello my fine friends. I hope this week is finding you all well. I should be out in the beautiful weather, but last night I was digging around on my computer hunting down for a photo for something, and I came across these photos that I took only two or three months ago while on a little adventure not far from my own homestead. I wandered off the beaten path and found another beaten path that was much more interesting and pulled out my camera and enjoyed the peaceful afternoon shooting and imagining the life that once was. Actually, the photos I am about to show you are all behind me, as I stand on this path. I drove up and behind me is what I found so beautiful in its own worn way. I will turn the camera around in a moment to show you what made me gasp in both excitement at the beauty and gasp at the sorrow of the abandonment. I didn't take my camera out for some time. In fact, this photo you see of the path was the one of the last photos I took right before I left my little adventure. 

As I walked around this place, first with sorrow, I began to have a different feeling overcome me. By the way, I walked around with a crowbar hooked over my arm at all times. I always have a crowbar in my car for all sorts of reasons, but mainly, because I tend to find myself in these types of situations and a crowbar comes in handy when a stray dog comes out charging and you can't tell if the charge is a happy-charge-let's-play or I'm-charging-to-get-you-off-my-land charge...and I have had both. Remember, I am from Texas, so crowbars in cars are common...but I digress.

But as I was saying...after much walking around the area and deciding that no one or nothing was going to charge, I got out my camera and once behind the lens, my sorrowful feeling went away. I began to feel completely different. And because of the way I felt, I decided to shoot my photos in a completely different mode and setting. This mode gave a touch of exactly how I felt while I was shooting - it gave the this abandoned area a lift full of grit. The good kind of grit that I will explore and explain as I share my photos that I shot in a completely different mode.

I hope you enjoy my photo essay:

FRESH START WITH OLD TRADITIONS






I drive down this very long path next to a field and just keep going. It was so wonderfully quiet, a slight wind blowing and I was lost...in my thoughts as well as off the beaten path. Potholes filled with water jolted me back to reality as the holes were much deeper than they appeared as the water hid how deep the holes really were.


As I drove further down the path, I come upon this abandoned farmhouse and broken down barn. The beauty and stillness stopped me in my tracks. 

I am realizing I am keeping my distance, but I am not sure why...

I realized that I kept my distance for a bit, not wanting to interfere with this whole area. But that wasn't like me. Usually, I just clammer for my camera, march right in and just start clicking away. But this time, I left my camera in the car and walked the peripheral instead. 

It wasn't that I was afraid...(maybe I should have been!)

It was something different this time.  

As I circled the property, lost in my thoughts, but at peace with the beauty and yet puzzled as to how such a wonderful place could end with such neglect, I heard something and I stopped in my tracks.

I cocked my head and listened some more...what was that? I put my hand on my crowbar that I hooked into my jeans pocket by now and walked around the barn...it was very faint sound, not a threat, but something...

And then I found this:

A pinwheel!

It was at this moment that I no longer saw this property as "old" or "worn" or "abandoned." I stood there watched it twirl just enough to make that little sound that had made me reach for my crowbar only moments earlier and smiled to myself. I realized that while I did find this place beautiful, I had also felt sorrow. But suddenly, that sorrow went away because this pinwheel reminded me that it perhaps this place wasn't abandoned at all...

...perhaps the residents, the homesteaders, went on to make a fresh start. It was at this point I went back the way I came and got my camera and retraced my steps and took the photos you just saw above so you could see what I saw when I first arrived, as I saw the place myself.  Well, when I got to the pinwheel and stood here to take the photo and feeling happy about my newfound feelings, it was then that I really looked up from my new angle that I hadn't seen yet and this is when I got another perspective on the whole deal:

First I will crop the photo from where I was standing next to the pinwheel:

When I first looked up from my pinwheel, I immediately saw the house and how beautiful it looked through the trees and snapped my pic. When I checked the photo in my viewfinder, I was shocked to see this giant blue "thing" in my viewfinder, and so I pulled my camera away from my face and looked over my camera to see what in the world did I miss, and right there was this giant blue trash can! I never noticed it when I snapped my pic!

And that is when I realized that this place had grit and I think I have some too. 

Grit can mean all sorts of things to all sorts of people, but  my computer dictionary basically says:

grit |grit|noun1 small, loose particles of stone or sand : she had a bit of grit in her eye.• [as adj. ] (with numeral) indicating the grade of fineness of anabrasive : 220-grit paper.• (also gritstone) a coarse sandstone : layers of impervious shales and grits.2 courage and resolve; strength of character : he displayed the true grit ofthe navy pilot.verb ( gritted , gritting ) [ trans. ]1 clench (the teeth), esp. in order to keep one's resolve when faced with an unpleasant or painful duty : figurative Congress must grit its teeth and take action | [as adj. ] ( gritted) “Not here,” he said through gritted teeth.2 [ intrans. ] move with or make a grating sound : fine red dust that gritted between the teeth.

My eyes went automatically over the trash, right to the beauty and I think that takes "resolve when faced with an unpleasant or painful duty." I was determined that this place was meant for beauty and not trash. And I think this homestead, and thousands like it around our country are full of beautiful grit because they show the resolve and strength and character of the residents who lived during a time that comforts came with hard work. Disaster was met with dignity. And fresh starts might meant abandoning an old location, but not old traditions. 

I feel very at home with homesteading and doing things with tradition. If you have been following me for some time, you know I am big believer in fresh starts too. Whether that fresh start is by choice or circumstances, we still will always be free to take along on our new journeys our traditions. 

I come from a long line of homesteaders. My forefathers arrived here from England in Boston, MA in 1634. Richard Maxson and Mary Mosher arrived for a fresh start when they landed so long ago. How they must have felt. I can't imagine. I walk around and snap photos and think.

Everything my forefathers left behind to start fresh again. It was very hard on them. Along with other settlers, while gathering goods and food, Richard Maxson and and his 13-year old son were killed by Indians. His wife, Rebecca and a few others, managed to get back into the boat and landed on an island, now known as Rhode Island. Shortly after, John Maxson was born. Rebecca was pregnant at the time she lost her husband. John was the first white child to be born on the island.

I think of the hardships then and the hardships we all experience now. And yet, we still move on, move forward, and somehow, with grit, we start again. I said we start "again" and not "over" because "over" sounds like doing the same thing twice. "Again" sounds like a second chance to me. A chance to do something different and to see things with a fresh eye. Like how I saw the house, and never saw the blue trashcan.

We may uproot our life, but we carry on our heritage and can still find beauty with the grit. My forefathers came over on a ship called "Griffin." And he then became a blacksmith. I can't even begin to imagine that long voyage and then immediately start working over heat and iron day after day. That is grit.

And I wonder about these homesteaders. Did this tree happen after they moved on? Or was this the circumstance that caused the move? Either way, it is a fresh start, whether they chose it or not. Just like my ancestor, Rebecca, who lost her husband, but then shortly after had his son, John. She lost, then gained. She moved on. She obviously did what she needed to do because her son, John, grew up and he moved on...but took his traditions with him.

I liked looking at these stairs. See the scuff marks on the kick plate? I wonder who kicked it as they went up and down and how often did a mother yell out, "Quit running down the stairs!" to her children? 

The pinwheel didn't get out to the barn on its own.

And speaking of barn, I make my way around the house and start to head over there to get a better look as I turn and get one last look at this beautiful home that once took care of its residents. It almost looks like a movie set, I think. Except, this is real life, no play acting here. Real love, real heartache, real mourning, real laughter, real pain, and I bet, a lot of real joy...

The joy of sunsets and sunrises..

The joy of fresh bread baking...

The joy of hearing the kids laughing in the yard...

The joy of fresh rain after days of hot weather...

The joy of seeing a loved one arrive home safely...

The joy of napping under a shady tree...

The joy of secret kisses when someone isn't looking...

The joy of bringing in sun-dried sheets and their scent...

The joy of watching the trees' leaves change colors...

The joy of a good meal with good friends...

The joy of thanking God for blessing us with so much...

The list goes on and on.

But that is what I mean when I say that we all get fresh starts, but that doesn't mean we can't keep our traditions - whatever they may be.

Joy is wherever you choose to look.  Even over a yucky blue trashcan. Just got to see it.

And now, I will leave you with a few more photos, and no words. I will let you find the beauty yourselves. 

This little adventure with my driving off the beaten path was good for my soul and I hope for you too. It reminded me that no matter where we come from, our circumstances, or if we are where we want to be in the first place...keeping our traditions close to us while going forward takes grit. And grit is a good thing because it keeps the blue trash cans of life out of view.

We need to remember that trash cans are really for just that: trash. 

They are a necessary part of life, a real part of life, and we can't avoid them, nor should we. But it doesn't mean we have to stick our head in it and smell what's inside of them!

We can stick our head out the window and get a great view of life if we choose too..no matter what the window looks like. Remember, we ain't looking at the window, it's our view...point.  :-)

From my house to your house,