Because I Discovered Pinterest

Okay—I knew it was out there, but I ignored it. And now that I’ve discovered it, well, I may as well jump in with both boots on and add stuff to it. The only way to do this is to post stuff on the web, and so, my blog has now become an official sacrificial lamb to Pinterest.

Well, not really. This is not about to become a craft blog, but it may have some occasional craft stuff on it, so I can put it on Pinterest. I don't even know why. I think I just want to do it 'cause everyone else is.

Okay, so here's a craft. I’m currently serving in the YW* as a…whatchamacallit—an advisor. Whatever. I teach. I’ve been attempting to teach my girls the importance of writing down inspiration when you receive it, of writing while you study your scriptures, writing as a way to question, and so to learn, and writing as a way to expand memory. So, what with the new curriculum and all, I figured it would be cool to give them a notebook at the beginning of the new year to practice this writing stuff. And I figured if I made it cute enough, they might actually use it.

I had a few requirements: it needed to be about the size of the personal progress book (for consistency and because of these (which our YW all want to make, and I wanted to make sure my notebook would fit)); it needed to be refillable/or I wanted the capability to add stuff to it as we go, like handouts; it needed not to cost me a lot of money (this being a relative idea, I know…if you want to do something for free, this will cost too much). So this is what I came up with:

 Yeah—click on the picture to biggify it and stuff.

On the front cover is the title of the curriculum and the year, and on the back is the year's theme. And I added ribbon and sparkly beads to make it...ribbony. And sparkly.

When you open it up...

...you can see that I made some tabs and dividers for different subjects. There are twelve tabs in all, one for each of the monthly topics. Plain 4x6 index cards inbetween colored tabs. (By the way, cutting your own tabs by hand kind of stinks, especially when I ended up making...let's see...168 of them, and then taping them on. If you've got a more elegant solution, by all means, go for it. Just don't share it with me, because I'll probably get insta-angry and shout at you in all caps.)

To make one of these books you'd need:

·            two plain pieces of chipboard, 6.5" x 4.5"

·            paper to make the outside of the chipboard covers all purty (I designed mine on the computer and printed them out on photo paper)

·            two 1" recloseable book rings

·            twelve 4"x6" colored index cards for dividers

·            lotsa plain 4"x6" index cards

·            ribbon or whatever to cause gasps of amazement and craft-lust

Pretty self-explanatory, really. I don't think the bulleted list was even necessary, but hey, I like bulleted lists.

The girls loved them. I actually expect them—encourage them—to use them in class, and I make handouts sized to fit: 4x6 with holes punched on the top. Hopefully they will learn to write and think a little more from using them.

*Yeah, if you don't know what this is, I don't care. Another night I may have bothered to explain it to you, but tonight, I'm too moody, so forget about it. Um. Except you're still reading, so maybe you really want to know—? Fine. It means "yabbering waxworks."

You Better Consume Your Whedon-ies

I wouldn't say that I'm a Joss Whedon groupie—not at all—but it's hard to avoid the man. He has been involved in many, many projects, so is it a surprise that I like a few of them? I recently enjoyed watching the entire series of Firefly on Netflix, and a friend recommended I try Dollhouse. I'm not entirely sure if I really like Dollhouse, but I noticed something while watching it.

Can you see it, too?

David Boreanaz, Nathan Fillion, Tahmoh Penikett

I never would have thought there was something strange going on here just by comparing Angel and Captain Malcolm Reynolds, but when you throw in what's-his-face from Dollhouse...well. Three times is not a coincidence, it's a pattern.

Joss apparently has an idea for what a leading man ought to look like, and that ideal includes large (and smashed-in-looking from some angles) nose, dark hair, heavy jawlines, and beefy builds. He also prefers his gentlemen to be rough around the edges, rebels, and...well, violent (but with a good heart). But what does it mean? Did Joss have a crush on Han Solo as a kid? (Though Harrison Ford's nose isn't really squashy enough for the Whedon ideal.)

What if—

What if I were to sneak on here...

...

...

...

...

...

...and post this picture:

It would be okay, wouldn't it?

The world wouldn't end. (Or begin, for that matter.)

Shh.

It's Official

I've been trying to deny the obvious for too long. I probably should've given up the blog a year ago--but I just wasn't able to do it (thanks to all you wonderful people and your blogs I'm addicted to). But now--it's official. My creative energies are being focused in another direction. You can catch me on facebook or by email if you want to chat.

And I'll come back to this again someday.

When the time is right.

The Tooth, The Whole Tooth, and Nothing but the Tooth

This post has nothing to do with religion, elevators, chocolate, road trips, etc. Yeah, yeah—I'll get to that, sure—but right now, it's time to write about the tooth. My son recently turned five. On the morning of his birthday, he nonchalantly mentioned while masticating and sprinkling cereal over the tabletop, in equal amounts, that he had a loose tooth. It clearly wasn't a big deal to him; he knew it would come out and he would leave it under his pillow for the tooth fairy, end of story. For me, it was a little alarming. Isn't this a little...early? The kid's body has been trying to grow up way too fast on me. He's 99^th percentile for his height—he always shocked people when he told them he was four—and now a loose tooth on the MORNING of his fifth birthday? When is the onset of puberty going to be? The morning of his sixth birthday? Then he'll being home his fiancee when he's seven...sheesh. So he's been carefully nursing his loose tooth, and won't allow anyone to touch it, and has been extremely proud of it, and has been contemplating what the tooth fairy will bring him. The other morning I was brushing his teeth, and he stopped to swallow the toothpaste (I can't get him to spit it out to save my life), and...the tooth was gone. He swallowed it. Yup. This worried him. How would the tooth fairy get it now? He was also worried about what was going to happen to the tooth. We told him not to worry: one night while he was fast asleep, the tooth fairy would come into his bedroom and slit open his belly with a blade made from a shark tooth and take the tooth out. No, we did NOT tell him that*. I don't want to pay that therapy bill. No, we just had him write a note to the tooth fairy explaining what happened, and see what she would do. Turns out the tooth fairy is very understanding and doesn't mind getting her hands dirty. She left him a little note and a dollar. *Nor did I tell him that the tooth fairy was a rather demented soul who looked like this. I didn't even tell him that the reason the tooth fairy collects children's teeth is because she craves calcium, and though she'd much rather take your entire skull to munch on—or better yet, your entire skeleton—but she's too small to carry away that much. So she just settles for a tooth. (So many golden opportunities to ruin this child, and I keep passing them up.)

Blogging: Why Bother?

I first started blogging because of Marie. She is one of my favorite people, and her gray matter sparkles and scintillates...honestly. One of the first things I noticed about her when I met her was all the glitter and sparks pouring out her ears.

And Marie started a blog. I started to read it. And I learned all sorts of things about Marie that I didn't know before, and I loved her all the more for it.

So I thought, if this is a way to get to know people better and in different ways than you otherwise would, I'm signing up. I think that's pretty cool.

Of course, I don't know if me blogging really meets that aim for anyone—I have no idea why you people come and read anything here at all, to tell you the truth. And lately—well, I haven't been all that inspired to blog at all. I've been doing other things. I haven't even read any blogs lately (which is super-lame, considering how many wonderful people I'm letting myself get out-of-touch with...just sad. I've got about 200+ unread entries on google reader nagging at me).

I need to inspire myself to get back into this a bit. So, I'm going to let you, the unfortunate reader who has stumbled onto this blog, to choose a post topic. I'll let the first three commenters (if there are any) decide whether you want to read a post about:

• my family
• a roadtrip
• an elevator story
  
• my religious problem
• chocolate
• or anything you want me to write about?
  

Thanks. And now, my latest obsession. Click to listen:

Fairy Tale Christmas

There are a few things that I have learned are not real. The Easter Bunny. The Great Pumpkin. Unicorns. Fairies, elves, and flying reindeer with glowing red noses. Things that make for pretty stories but that you never will encounter in real life.

I thought that snowflakes were one of these myths and legends perpetuated to make people feel just a little better about snow. After all, snowflakes don't look like this, now do they?

Our house is currently under three feet of snow, and a huge storm is expected to bring many more inches tomorrow. It's been snowing all day today, too, but not very seriously. The clouds are just stretching and warming up for the big day tomorrow. But as I was out attacking the glacier that is in our driveway, I noticed this snow looked a little different than any I had seen before. Sorta like instant potato flakes*. Then I looked a little closer.

Holy cow of the ancient milk goddess! THEY REALLY DO EXIST!

Look at these! I was afraid I wasn't going to get a good picture--but LOOK! You can see them in all their six-pointed wonder and delicate gorgeousosity! Here's a long shot:

And a close-up:
Did you SEE THEM?

And they made the teensy little tree we have out front look fabulous, too:

Close-up of tree branch:
Now it makes me wonder--what else is out there that I've taken for granted** is just a nice story we tell to make children's lives a little brighter? If I hear a prowler tomorrow night banging around in the house and attack him with the baseball bat that is under the bed, will I end up apologizing profusely to the Man in Red? Will he throw coal at me? Will he whip out his reindeer whip and go all manga on me?

Hmm. Merry Christmas to you!


*Which I never, EVER use. Oh no. I boil all my potatoes and mash them by hand. I grow the potatoes before I cook them, too. I have a potato field in my back yard, and a potato cellar in the garage.
**Another example of this is windshield washer fluid. It's something that I've always taken for granted, and believed would be there every time I pressed the button. However, it turns out if it gets cold enough, the stuff freezes. I had no idea. Apparently you are supposed to change the windshield washer fluid to a winter formula. Who would've guessed? (Also, if anyone has some really good tips about how to thaw out a washer fluid reservoir that is frozen solid, please let me know, 'kay?)