I'm a copycat, and I'm okay with that.

So yeah, I'm sure I'm the last one on the Teesha bandwagon, but now that she's posted all of the COOLEST. VIDEOS. EVER! I had to try a journal like the one she demonstrated.

Here's the first page I completed:

And I'll have another one for you shortly.  We've figured out some of our technical difficulties so I think I'll be able to post on a fairly regular basis again!  YAY!  (Of course, I'm still crap at photo editing, so if you see big areas of white space that shouldn't be there, just squint and pretend, k? Thanks.)

Love Shelley!

PS: That is not a quote, I actually made it up myself.  It's about a cat we don't have.

Are one of these for you?

I've been sending out so many letters lately that I decided to fancy up a batch of four (plain white) envelopes all at once.  The colours are a bit off (they are bright in real life, but not as gaudy as they look here!) but I still think they'd be fun to get in the mail. 

These were a ton of fun to make, although I think I might add a little bit of detail here and there before I actually send them out.  I tried something completely different on the back of one that got me all excited to make a brand-new batch.  One thing really leads to another when you're playing with paper!

I'll keep you "posted".  Get it?  (boooooooo)  HAHA!  The only person who would appreciate that joke is my brother John.  Sorry, everybody else.  : )

Love Shelley!

You Asked For It.

A couple of weeks ago, someone asked if I would share a photo of my desk.  The place where I create, where the muse visits me, where THE MAGIC HAPPENS.  Well, she didn't put it quite that way, but I'm feeling dramatic.

Anyway, here it is.  I've highlighted the exact, actual spot where THE MAGIC HAPPENS.   **jazz hands**

So... now you know. 

I'm kind of sorry you had to see that.  But I'm just keepin' it real.  HA!

Have a great day, everybody.  Love Shelley!

Where you get a glimpse of just how dumb I am.

So I was cruising a used book store earlier this week and among other things, I found this little treasure.  There was no dust cover on the book but it did have some really nice debossed letters on the fabric cover.  Not that I can read them; they're in Russian.

Inside the front cover is this inscription: "Purchased at the Montreal World's Fair Oct 10 - 1967 by Albert Pitz."  At least I THINK it says Albert Pitz.  Could be Litz.  Albert didn't have the greatest penmanship.

As I was flipping through, I glanced at all the old black and white photos inside, thinking they would be perfect to make envelopes out of, or use to decorate other works of art.

A riveting game of chess...

Aw!  This guy loves his kitty.

 

The whole FAMILY loves their kitty!  I haven't seen too many family portraits with the cat included before.  Interesting!

This one reminds me of our sponge hockey team photos.

See?  They just have a bigger roster.

Also...

Those other guys seem a little more, um, RESERVED than we ever were.

But I digress.

Here are two gentlemen enjoying a nice visit together.

Hey!  Is that the same guy again?

Huh.  He looks kind of snooty here.

 

Wow, this guy AGAIN?! 

Vain.

Mr. Serious Pants

Geez, you'd think this guy thought the whole book was about HIM.

So each photo has a nice descriptive caption underneath; sadly they're all in Russian so I really don't have a clue what's going on in this long book but I'm thinking that worst case scenario I can just cut out the entire text block and use those lovely covers to make a completely different book!

THEN... I flip to the back to see what kind of shape the inside back cover is in, and THIS falls out.

Oh.

A page! Yes, really!

I know, it's been far too long.  But our internet has been down, blah blah blah.  I'm sure you don't care about my excuses, just SHOW THE PAGE ALREADY, WOMAN!

Okay, fine, you don't have to yell.

Here it is:

It's okay, it's true.  Also, I have other pages in progress.  Yes, really! 

Also, tomorrow: I'm not the smartest person you know.  Find out why.


On this page: Golden fluid acrylics; old dictionary bits; stickers, stamping; india ink; charcoal pencil.

Way more fun than a phone bill!

Hey! 

Just a short snapper.  (I love saying that.)  

I've always had pen pals but lately I've been meeting some new and VERY interesting people that are also into the postal arts. 

I do have some cute stationery but I usually prefer making something up on my own.  Lately I've been using things that would normally go in the garbage or recycling bin, making them a little prettier, and giving them a second life by mailing them to unsuspecting suckers people around the world who share my love for sending and receiving interesting mail. 

I whited out the name and address on this one but I'm sure some of you will recognize the Timmy's bag that used to hold a Turkey Bacon Club sandwich.  There is only a letter in there.  I ate the sandwich.

Do you love that green carpet or what?  I took these pics at work with my phone.  So I can honestly say these are unretouched photos!!  Okay, sure, that's not necessarily a good thing.  But at least you get the idea.  One day I'll learn some photography skills and then I'll be unstoppable!

Here's another one that just went out this morning:

And here's the back (because I know you were wondering...)  (Fine, you weren't, but I'm gonna show you anyway.)

Aaaaaand that's all I have to offer for today.  Oh, except for this conversation yesterday when I picked up Cameron from the new daycare.

Her: So Cameron and I played cards together this afternoon when all the other kids were napping.

Me:  Yeah, he loves playing cards.

Her:  He knows how to play RUMMY!!       (side note: he's four.)

Me:  Yeah.... by the way, don't play him for money.  That's a free tip.

Come back soon!  I'm working on a journal page and I'll post it here when I'm done. 

Love Shelley!

Feel free to skip down to the picture if you want.

So the other night, rather late, Mike and I were sitting on the couch. I casually asked him if there was any way to cut the cord on my broken lamp without getting electrocuted. He looked at me in silent horror, probably picturing raising the children on his own; then croaked, "What?"

I told him that my lamp has been broken for quite a while but that it's plugged in behind my two-ton desk. I'm trying to avoid having to move that mofo, but... (deep sigh) ... if I have to I will. But I really don't want to. Mainly because I'm lazy I would have to move all the stuff off of it. And trust me, that could be an all-day job. There is a LOT of stuff on top of my desk. A lesser desk would have collapsed by now.

He said he would take a look. (Lesson: if you are incompetent enough to possibly be a danger to yourself, your husband WILL help you.) So he pulled all the junk out from under my desk, grumbling under his breath about "too much crap" and "what IS all this stuff" etc. (Precious art supplies if you were wondering. Oh, plus a bag of diapers, which made him pause for a moment. HA!) Since the desk has almost a full back, with only about a 3" gap at the bottom, he couldn't really sneak his massive, muscular forearm in there to try to pull the plug.

So he moved out of the way and I crawled under there. My arm slid easily into the gap, and he said, "Okay, now the plug should be just over to your lef- what?"

"I'm stuck."

"What?"

"I'm stuck."

"What do you mean you're STUCK?"

"I'm stuck."

"Uh. Okay, roll onto your back so your arm turns a little, and - "

"OW. Okay, hold on, maybe I can wiggle it back ou- OW. I'm stuck."

We look at each other for a full minute. Visions of firemen charging in brandishing axes are running through my head. I stifle the urge to giggle. And then my sweet, sweet husband says, "Well, since your arm's already in there, see if you can get to that plug."

I start trying to wiggle my arm over to the left but all I'm doing is giving myself a really good scrape. I try again to sneak my too-big forearm out of the gap. Really, I have to stop working out so much, clearly I've become too muscular. I guess in the meantime all I can do is try not to flex.

I can see that he's starting to wonder how this is going to end. Will he REALLY have to call for help? Will I have to sleep under here? Who will make the pancakes in the morning? I'm still rolling around and wiggling and scraping, and while I'm struggling to free myself, he's snooping around beside the desk and finds that he can actually reach the plug from there. Now I'm stuck AND feeling even dumber than before, if that's even a possibility. I've had this broken lamp taking up valuable real estate on my desk for over a month, and I could have just gotten to the plug from the side. Ugh. He triumphantly pulls the whole lamp assembly out from its anchor and presents it to me, bending down so I can see it from my uncomfortable position under the desk. I give him a one-thumb thumbs-up, then grimace as I roll over and continue my efforts.

Finally, by doing some complicated acrobatic manouvering, I managed to get free. And now my lamp is unplugged. AND I'm not electrocuted!

I love a happy ending.

Oh yeah, and here's a journal page I finished today:

Sideways. What the hell, Blogger??
Oh well.
Love Shelley!