diy: army of love

I had the idea for htis project back when we still lived in Los Angeles. I got as far as spraypainting my army men but the finished project never happened. This year, I thought it would be perfect for my february bed. Thank goodness for the wood scrap pile behind the mama a-go-go's house! 

I spray painted the army men purchased from the dollar store with multiple coats of florist spray paint, front and back (after a good soak in soapy water). The spray paint doesn't really stick very well but if you can get the whole thing all glued up you should be okay. Maybe good old fashioned regular spray paint would work better? 

I first thought I would glue them onto a painted white board but I liked the way this scrap piece looked and left it as is. I even thought of adding the words army of love underneath the heart but couldn't decide how or what with so I left it. Before you do any arranging or gluing, add a hanging fixture to the back if you wish to hang it on a wall. I forgot to do this part and when I was trying to hammer in a nail, a half dozen fo my army guys popped right off and needed to be reafixed. After you get yer fixture on, arrange your guys into a heart shape and play around with them until you like the way they look.

Heat up your glue gun and get to gluing. Ignore all the thready bits. You can pull them off once everything is set. 

Hang or prop in a happy place and enjoy! 

so far...

So far, 2013 is not what I was trying to so positively visualize. I was trying to embody positive thinking...magical thinking and well...then the allergy attack to end all allergy attacks hit. I was under seige by a polyp the size of a small planet and after two weeks of misery, not sleeping, not eating, not functioning really, I managed to get into the doctor who diagnosed...allergies. The good news was there was no infection taking over so I did not need to get all cozy with another round of antibiotics. The bads news was I had to...have to wait it out. I pleaded and sobbed for some steroids if only to shrink the planet camping out in my left nostril and to unmuffle my sadly muffled hearing and with much hemming and haw-ing, the doctor gave in and gave me a very short stint to have an affair with. It was fleeting. At least it managed to bully the polyp away but I am stil more snurfly than not and while my left ear unmuffled, my right ear decided to get in on the game. I am seriously, a mess. I am however, grateful the attack has remind upper respiratory and not lower. I do quite like being able to breathe even though I am not breathing my best, at least I am not wheeze wheeze wheezing away. I do feel like one big sad raccoon.

What else is new?

The thing with chronic allergies as an adult is that it is difficult to appear presentable and professional. People give you a wide berth thinking you are either contagious or sloppy or crazy. I am mostly embarrassed and that ain't  good for one's selfer. If this keeps up for another week it is back to the doc for another looksie. I wish I oculd figure out what brought on this attack. All I can think of is a short hike we did end of December.  I can't get outdoor exercise if I am allergic to the outdoors but I really need to get outdoors and exercise. Exercise keeps your body healthy unless you're me...then you just get sick. All the while this is going on, I am still trying to visualize health and an alergy free life. I slept on the sofa for twoo weeks so I could sit up and as I snurfled and sobbed myself to exhasution I would mantra..."Tomorrow when I wake up, I will breathe deep through my nose and into my chest. I will feel good. I will feel healthy."

I'm still reciting it...

Earlier this week I managed to haul my tukis to the lab for bloodwork and what ensued was a comedy of errors. It was one of those things that so lacked organization, professionalism and the like that had I been someone less me than me it could have gotten ugly. For starters, the lab changed their hours so that I only had one day where I could get in. I had to cancel a doctor's appointment due to that snafu. I finally get in and they can't find my order. It's a standing order, mind you and I have been there three times before but nothing.She cals the doctor's office..no answer. She clls back three times and finally gets someone and they fax the order through. I am not certain why it isn't in their computer system but it could be they don't use a computer system. Hello? This is 2013! Get with it! The office is actualyl moving in two days and while they are still open for blood work, they do not have a chair or table set aide to procur your blood so I am sitting in a rolling office chair, holding my arm on my lap and she preps me and jabs me and gets two vials out of me. As the second vial is filling, she unties the blue rubber evil thing around my arms and pops in tube number three and....nothing. It would appear I ran out of blood. We both look at it and say "Huh" and I really want to start laughing and so I do. She tries another vial but nothing. She looks at me and I toss her my left arm and we go through it again but my veins seem to have made a run for it. I usually give blood and have no problem. Large veins, good flow. I'm all about cooperation. She finally gets the last vial filled and I am off for a morning grocery run all swadled up in white tape and cotton. The brusies come later.

Now, I could have pitched a fit. I could have. But really, it was 8am and I really wanted to have a good day and so I rolled with it. I snarked out in my head but chanted to myself the one rule I know above all else. You can't really control what happens to you, you can only control your reaction. And so I did.

Yesterday I got a phone call with my lab results and while I orignally was off the charts hypothyroid it seems I am now hyperthyroid. Which sucks but explains my recent bout of crazy low body temp, hair falling out, and hot flash city. The poor guy on the phone was only calling to relay my results but I broke down and told him I don't feel well. I have not felt well since beginning any thyroid meds. I am tired of feeling poorly and frankly I feel like crap ALL THE TIME. He felt bad and told me he would relay it to the doctor , which he did but for now she has said all they can do is lower my dose to the previous dose which still had me feeling like crap!

I need to bone up on thyroid know-how. I also need to remember my password so I can get into my lab results. I am thinking I am adrenal wonky (janeray, sound familiar?) and need to arm myself with knowledge so I can nip this and fast! I might also need to find a new doctor. Oy!

Sooooo...how had your year been? Tust me when I say I laugh about this all the time. Sometimes it is whimpering but mostly I am as cheerful as I can be because what's the point of purposeful misery?

p.s.
We have had some stunning sunsets this month and that's something to swoon over.

pinterest: edible love

My pinterest boards are bursting with ideas, recipes and projects. Most of the time, they serve as eye candy or color inpsiration though I have managed to attempt a good number of the recipes I have pinned. Mostly though, I pin and then kind of, sort of, forget about it until I take a walk through a baord and think...."Oh yeah!"

Occassionally, I am so smitten with a pn or idea that I drop everything and DO it. That is what happened when I spied this popular pin. Thank goodness I was actually going to the market anyway and so I picked up the store brand in all it tubular glory. 

 After fearfully pressing the spoon into the seam,  I was able to liberate the dough and so I got to rerolling. I had to pinch two smaller lenghts of dough together to create one log that I then formed into a V before rolling the tops inwards to create the heart.

My cakepan was a little too large to nestle the whole bit of pretty inside but I went for it anyway.

 After baking the rolls for the allotted time, I added the icing and then a healthy does of Valentine's sprinkles. After a photofest, I may have enjoyed three with a hot vintage mug of creamy coffee. 

My hearts aren't quite as heart shaped as the ones in the pin but they were still a kick to make...and eat. Hop on over to Spice Blog to see how they did it! 

first wip of the year...a sneak

i want shiny hair (and less chins) aka the first rant of the year

**a return to the confessional....

Oh how I lurve this world wide web. I love it. I do. Sometimes however, more times than I should admit, I find that I do not like it so much if only for the way all that fabulosuness out there makes me feel. I am often inspired, quite often inspired...mostly inspired at least when it comes to recipes and crafts and diys and pretty things. It is the fashion posts that make me shrink in confidence and I wonder what happened to me?

Really. What happened?

see? no shine.

There are an incredible number of beautiful women out there blogging their stylish selves to the moon and back. Truly gorgeous. They have shiny hair, I have never had shiny hair. They have straight white teeth...me? Not so much. They look fantastic in tights or knee socks, in cowl necks and v-necks, kitten heels and lumberjack boots. They take their own photos and are in focus. Glowing focus with a secret smile on their faces and they look so casual and unposed in their perfection.

When I take a fashion shot of myself, really something like thirty shots, I look like a bad 80s catalog model all stiff with Spiderman wrists. I try making silly faces before the timer goes off. I think serious face, puckered mouth, sunshiney smile and I try but end up looking like a madball.

alluring..no?

Remember madballs? Maybe that is my problem. I'm old. And fat. Sure, I have great skin and a right dandy personality (so I have bee told) but I also have a waist size that used to be my bust size. I have a neck that crinkles. It crinkles, people! And my quirky outie belly button of yore is now an...innie. Gasp!  If I look down, even partially so, like I do when I read, or tippy-type on the keyboard, my face...and neck get lost in the uninvited guests of my chins. Plural. Yeah, I said it. I have CHINS. A serious case of the CHINS. I get so caught up in this dilema of mine that I've taken to stretching my head up and jutting my chin out you know, to camouflage the whole mess...I do it especially if I want to appear beguiling to the mister, sometimes I might even casually rest my hand somewhere under the whole mess thinking I can pull of a sultry Meryl Streep (seriously, Merly Streep? I AM old and she is too but she is stunning. STUNNING). All this accomplishes is a confused mister asking me if I am okay and why do I have that funny look on my face.

a laughng smile, wonky but me

I laugh about it. I do. A lot. Laughing is good, it makes one appear engaged and happy and dare I write it...sexy. Mister gets quite unhappy with me when I peevishly get all wrapped up in my imaginery non-looks. I wouldn't mind this fat dealio except I feel all ugly in the face (and no I am not trying for some ego boosting, I'm thinking of sharing this weakness in myself because I am certain there has to be a club of other like minded, like bodied ladies in search of a coffee kvetch. I really hope there is and I wana be a part of it and if there isn't, I say let's start one) and when I look at "plus" size models I wonder "why are they all so freaking gorgeous?" and really...they are not at all PLUS. Sniff. I think...who cares if yer fat when yer pretty and I have to honestly say I have never felt pretty. Never. Cute, I think I have mustered cute. When I was thin...from behind I was considered hot, from the front I was called dog-face (yes, really) and well, when a girl hears that enough she kinda carries it around with her and it is a stupid heavy load to carry. I need to put it down already.

Why do we do that? Carry around the crap that people feed us but doubt and disbelieve the nice things people say? I do this and it drives many folk around me nuts and all I can say is that I feel like I have had more people say unkind things than kinds things but then I get all caught up in the thought that I cannot believe the good things because then I would be bragging or big headed and if only my head were a smidge bigger, it might make my hips and ass less bulgy. Oh, and ranty rant onward, I seriously don't hate the fat (except the chins, I really don't like those buggers)...dimpled thighs aside, I'm still curvy and curves are good unless you want to wear clothes and well, society kinda dictates that we don't run around all nekkid (though nekkid dance partes at home are good as are nekkid jumping photos in national parks) and such and so I struggle. I struggle to find something, anything that will cover this large person who often misses her smaller self (a self which went AWOL back in the early 90s). Not only do I struggle for coverage but it would be nice if it both flattered the curves and made me not feel like a sloppy sad raccoon. Oh yes..and it would be nice if it stayed in place and did not ride up or slip off or creep down are cling from all the static that my doughy thighs are good at producing. Is that too much to a for?

go ahead...try it.

I would like to wear a dress and not worry that the skirt has creeped up under my bag (I carry a bag, not a purse). It has happened. It does happen. The first time it happend I was cute and 18 and wasn't at all embarrassed because hey, I had a great behind, I did. It rocked. In fact it rocked so much it didn't pass the pencil test. The boobs did, they were once perky and yes, the behind was as well but golly it could hold a pencil. What. Did you never try the pencil test...there? Well...um....nevermind that.

I would also like a pair of jeans that didn't slip off when I sat or squatted. Waists are either too high or too low. In the rare cases they do fit their pockets are usually sick with glitter or rhinestones. Bedazzled to an inch of their lives or they have distressing that makes it look like I participated in a sexy car wash ...with bleach. What's up with all that? On our BIG ROAD TRIP, I was so fed up with ill-fitting jeans, shorts and the like that I purchased a pair of shorts (which maybe were labled culottes, I cringe) that had an elastic waist. ELASTIC WAIST.

I am old.

see? patchy. patchy.

So...I love this world wide web. I do. But I would really like to return to my fashionista roots as I had them. BIG time. I'm good at clothes for other people not so much for myself. My closet looks pretty good and my imagination has paired up some lovely ensembles but when I put them on, I fall to the floor in defeat and return to my old-too-big-for-me patchy patched jeans, a tank top, maybe a genie bra*, and an eight dollar grey t-shirt from Target...crew neck because v-necks are icky and why, oh why are v-necks the only necklines in the store and why, oh why can I only find skinny jeans. Skinny jeans, really? But hey, if they fit and don't slip off, I will wear them....at hme, not in pictures. In fact, I picked up a pair of the skinnies that have tiny white polka dots all over them (I do love a polka dot) and they are on the dresser with tags still attached but I think it is passed the return-by date.  In my head I see them on me slightly cuffed, with crazy clunky white nursing shoes (a want), a long sleeved pale grey tissue-t, a dozen colorful skinny beaded necklaces, funky plaid old man vest, chunky watch (hee-hee...chunky),  and dark grey messenger bag.

It is time for a coffee kvetch. How does one set something like that up? 

wee shop update

I put together these pretty silver and gold ephemera packs last year and so enjoyed their whimsy I added a few more to shop scrumdillydilly. They are full of vintage handmade whimsy and sparkle. Don't ya think?