When we lived in Wexford at the southeast end of Ireland, Cutiepie was born in 2004 and, for a year and a half, we a joined mother/toddler group. I became close with several good gals and we still stay in touch.
Earlier this month Lola called and asked me to come to their monthly dinner. A night where each gal brings one dish and two or three, or five or six, bottles of wine. We then proceed to laugh and storytell all the great and not-so-great moments of woman-, mother- and wife- hood in rural Ireland. Wine, wine and more whine. All day I am looking forward to it and am so touched that they remembered me!
Travel, accommodations and childcare (in Wexford) sorted. After work I'm off to collect the girls and throw together my appointed appetizer. The legendary romance writer Ree is going to help that area with this yummy loaf.
Let's hope I arrive early enough as I have the appetizer!
Friday, 19 October 2007
Almost Party Time
Gonna do a launch party with my cool masthead and all. I know I said Friday, but since I'm American and all, it's likely to go live Friday night Pacific time just to shake it up California style!
So what are you waiting for? Get your party threads on!
So what are you waiting for? Get your party threads on!
Wednesday, 17 October 2007
The Many Reasons Why My Girls Love The Postman
You know you are loved when you move from America and three years later the care packages keep coming! In Monday’s mail:
Scooby Doo socks Trying to keep socks on Babydoll is no longer a feat with her favorite characters afoot! (sorry couldn't kick the puns! haha)
Dora the Explorer Band-Aids for all the scrapped, red or otherwise-fine knees, elbows, and toes that need dire doctoring and expert pampering.
Scooby Doo Band-Aids Babydoll’s Band-Aid of choice
Princess Band-Aids fit only for a princess Cutiepie
In case you didn’t know, Band-Aids heal all boo boos. Trust me, they do.
Scooby Doo post it notes because there is no more wall left for our young Picassos- in-training
Scooby Doo pens because the powers-that-bein control for most of the time anyway confiscated all other writing utensils due to the above reason
Princess backpack one more reason for Cutiepie to scream, kick and cry that she is ready for big school… only one year and 291 days left to go!
Princess puzzles just in case there aren’t enough loose puzzle pieces found in window sills, kitchen drawers and in the far reaches of the closet
Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups just ‘cause Mommy lost 11 pounds over the summer, she can always learn more discipline, discipline, discipline
Hawaii Sweet Maui Onion Potato Chips ‘cause Daddy needs to learn discipline too. Um, not happening. The bag was empty in exactly 12 minutes and 45 seconds.
A huge big thanks to Colleen for sending all these goodies and wishing Cutiepie the best princess birthday ever. The girls send you these visual lovesnaps wearing the fantastic yummy delish raincoats you sent!
Scooby Doo socks Trying to keep socks on Babydoll is no longer a feat with her favorite characters afoot! (sorry couldn't kick the puns! haha)
Dora the Explorer Band-Aids for all the scrapped, red or otherwise-fine knees, elbows, and toes that need dire doctoring and expert pampering.
Scooby Doo Band-Aids Babydoll’s Band-Aid of choice
Princess Band-Aids fit only for
In case you didn’t know, Band-Aids heal all boo boos. Trust me, they do.
Scooby Doo post it notes because there is no more wall left for our young Picassos- in-training
Scooby Doo pens because the powers-that-be
Princess backpack one more reason for Cutiepie to scream, kick and cry that she is ready for big school… only one year and 291 days left to go!
Princess puzzles just in case there aren’t enough loose puzzle pieces found in window sills, kitchen drawers and in the far reaches of the closet
Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups just ‘cause Mommy lost 11 pounds over the summer, she can always learn more discipline, discipline, discipline
Hawaii Sweet Maui Onion Potato Chips ‘cause Daddy needs to learn discipline too. Um, not happening. The bag was empty in exactly 12 minutes and 45 seconds.
A huge big thanks to Colleen for sending all these goodies and wishing Cutiepie the best princess birthday ever. The girls send you these visual lovesnaps wearing the fantastic yummy delish raincoats you sent!
Monday, 15 October 2007
Busy Days
Friends, fear not, while it may look like it, I indeed have not forgotten the crafty crowd. My posts are speaking to a variety of life moments, yet my eyes are seeing nothing but patchwork and the quilts from it.
I'm busy, internets. I'm busy!
The sidebar shows my current projects, but something about the simple HTML and measly percentage amounts just don't capture the excitement had with each and every step toward completion!
My sewing machine was at the doctors for a checkup so a quiet two days there. Recently, I bought a second hand machine. I have a tradeoff planned for my SIL:I agree for her to use the 2nd sewing machine whilst she agrees to be my sewing budding. Hmm, think I got the better end...the purchase price was minor, whereas my neediness is priceless! We are starting our very own weekly sewing night this Wednesday. Lots of pictures and progress sure to come!
Halloween Goods
Halloween is fast approaching and some Irish are beginning to decorate. The trend is more evident every year. This weekend my halloween table runners were the top sellers at the market! Getting Irish to spend hard earned money on ghosts, bats and silly skeletons is a feat all in its own.
One woman eyed the large festive table runner for what seemed like ages. She was in love, but hadn't showed the love...you know, cash!
She hemmed and hawwed, "The price is 24 Euro, can you do any better than that?"
I was like, "Yeah, sure I'll take 30 Euro for it?" chuckles all around as her husband looked on.
Now husbands listen up, if something as little as 24 buckaroos stand between happiness and wifedom, pull out the wallet!
Which is exactly what the husband did, in a manner of speaking. He urged her on and told her to buy it.
She left saying, "But it's so hard to spend money on myself!" And here I thought she haggled the price for prices' sake!
So ladies, do it today: spend a little money on yourself! You deserve it!
I'm busy, internets. I'm busy!
The sidebar shows my current projects, but something about the simple HTML and measly percentage amounts just don't capture the excitement had with each and every step toward completion!
My sewing machine was at the doctors for a checkup so a quiet two days there. Recently, I bought a second hand machine. I have a tradeoff planned for my SIL:I agree for her to use the 2nd sewing machine whilst she agrees to be my sewing budding. Hmm, think I got the better end...the purchase price was minor, whereas my neediness is priceless! We are starting our very own weekly sewing night this Wednesday. Lots of pictures and progress sure to come!
Halloween Goods
Halloween is fast approaching and some Irish are beginning to decorate. The trend is more evident every year. This weekend my halloween table runners were the top sellers at the market! Getting Irish to spend hard earned money on ghosts, bats and silly skeletons is a feat all in its own.
One woman eyed the large festive table runner for what seemed like ages. She was in love, but hadn't showed the love...you know, cash!
She hemmed and hawwed, "The price is 24 Euro, can you do any better than that?"
I was like, "Yeah, sure I'll take 30 Euro for it?" chuckles all around as her husband looked on.
Now husbands listen up, if something as little as 24 buckaroos stand between happiness and wifedom, pull out the wallet!
Which is exactly what the husband did, in a manner of speaking. He urged her on and told her to buy it.
She left saying, "But it's so hard to spend money on myself!" And here I thought she haggled the price for prices' sake!
So ladies, do it today: spend a little money on yourself! You deserve it!
Verry Me!
Ok, so I got my look! Do you like it?
Big thanks to Jules over at Everyday Design for the lovely design!!
Isn't that too funny that my post below sums up my relationship with Jules. Let me tell you, she listens--she styled me gorgeous!!
Looking to do a launch party, anyone ever held one of those on your blog?
Don't know if it exists, but as my family and friends will attest to, I'm not one to miss an opportunity to celebrate. Ordinarily, I'd make some scrumptious appetizers and adult libations with some groovy tunes. Seeing how this is online, we'll have to settle for a giveaway, entertaining reading, and stimulating visuals--and hey, I already have my outfit, thanks to Jules!
Seriously, ping me your ideas and we'll have a grand time.
Oh! the date? Friday 19th
Be there or be square!
Big thanks to Jules over at Everyday Design for the lovely design!!
Isn't that too funny that my post below sums up my relationship with Jules. Let me tell you, she listens--she styled me gorgeous!!
Looking to do a launch party, anyone ever held one of those on your blog?
Don't know if it exists, but as my family and friends will attest to, I'm not one to miss an opportunity to celebrate. Ordinarily, I'd make some scrumptious appetizers and adult libations with some groovy tunes. Seeing how this is online, we'll have to settle for a giveaway, entertaining reading, and stimulating visuals--and hey, I already have my outfit, thanks to Jules!
Seriously, ping me your ideas and we'll have a grand time.
Oh! the date? Friday 19th
Be there or be square!
Thursday, 11 October 2007
Listen and Style Me Gorgeous
A couple of weeks ago I called the hair salon to make an appointment with Mary.
Mary? Oh, she’s not working here anymore.
She’s not?
No. She left. She can’t do hairdressing anymore. You know, she has a bad back. Should I still make an appointment for you?
Yeah. Can you get her to return and do my hair?
No. You know, anyone here can do it.
Anyone. Can. Do. It. Anyone? Anyone?
But Anyone doesn’t know me.
Anyone doesn’t know I suffer from extreme hairstyle and all things related neurosis.
Anyone doesn’t know my hang-up regarding my hair and a particular 129 shades of red.
Anyone doesn’t know my bangs and their quirks, my quirks, and the forces that drive them.
Anyone doesn’t know my story. Me, my story.
No siree, I don’t think so.
Where I come from, hair clientele is coveted property. You’re a possession and you like it. She moves salons, you follow. You cut your bangs in a fit of impatience, you pray she doesn’t notice. You use boxed peroxide in an insane and amateurish moment; you shamefully sulk into the cutting chair and deny, deny, deny. I know, I’ve done it all.
Your hairstylist is so into your personal sphere, she knows the nittiest of the grittiest of your life. She knows on which days you match your bra and bikinis, she knows who you lust and who you despise, dare I say she knows more than hubbie knows about you. Or cares to know.
Hairdressers care.
Or at least, they pretend to, all the while making you clean, shiny and silky.
Oh, to feel that feeling again.
This week, unable to return to Mary’s salon—you know, too many memories—I sought relief elsewhere for my faded, overgrown tresses. A friend referred me to ‘David’ a reputable hip stylist with jest a little sugar in his tank, if you know what I mean. As soon as I sat in his sleek styling chair, I nearly felt I was back home in San Francisco.
First thing David did was lean in and ask me, “So, Sherry, what’s your story?”
Then I knew I was home.
Mary? Oh, she’s not working here anymore.
She’s not?
No. She left. She can’t do hairdressing anymore. You know, she has a bad back. Should I still make an appointment for you?
Yeah. Can you get her to return and do my hair?
No. You know, anyone here can do it.
Anyone. Can. Do. It. Anyone? Anyone?
But Anyone doesn’t know me.
Anyone doesn’t know I suffer from extreme hairstyle and all things related neurosis.
Anyone doesn’t know my hang-up regarding my hair and a particular 129 shades of red.
Anyone doesn’t know my bangs and their quirks, my quirks, and the forces that drive them.
Anyone doesn’t know my story. Me, my story.
No siree, I don’t think so.
Where I come from, hair clientele is coveted property. You’re a possession and you like it. She moves salons, you follow. You cut your bangs in a fit of impatience, you pray she doesn’t notice. You use boxed peroxide in an insane and amateurish moment; you shamefully sulk into the cutting chair and deny, deny, deny. I know, I’ve done it all.
Your hairstylist is so into your personal sphere, she knows the nittiest of the grittiest of your life. She knows on which days you match your bra and bikinis, she knows who you lust and who you despise, dare I say she knows more than hubbie knows about you. Or cares to know.
Hairdressers care.
Or at least, they pretend to, all the while making you clean, shiny and silky.
Oh, to feel that feeling again.
This week, unable to return to Mary’s salon—you know, too many memories—I sought relief elsewhere for my faded, overgrown tresses. A friend referred me to ‘David’ a reputable hip stylist with jest a little sugar in his tank, if you know what I mean. As soon as I sat in his sleek styling chair, I nearly felt I was back home in San Francisco.
First thing David did was lean in and ask me, “So, Sherry, what’s your story?”
Then I knew I was home.
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