tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40926123886075779032024-02-07T21:25:50.395-05:00Aprons Gone WildAprons Gone Wildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05620449566168721820noreply@blogger.comBlogger129125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4092612388607577903.post-11277757260197589732013-11-12T15:26:00.000-05:002013-11-12T15:29:54.191-05:00It's those little things.....<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> </span><b><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> <span style="color: #6aa84f;">My good friend, Robin Leonard, once gave me a small, coffee table book for my birthday entitled, "Little Things Make a Big Difference." The book is authored by Laurin Sydney, of CNN. In the book Sydney laments on how our daily lives are overwhelmed with long lists of "want tos" and "have tos." Often, the result of this is that we just shut down completely without even making an attempt to complete our "want tos." If we can't do everything on the list, we don't do anything on the list.</span></span></b><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b> I plead guilty to this behavior. I begin each day by creating a list. Sitting in my leather chair in our breakfast room with my computer on my lap, I sip coffee and plan my day. By the time the list is written, I am already in a panic mode, just knowing that there aren't enough hours in the day to get it all done. The things I absolutely must do always take precedence over the things I simply want to do. If you recognize this behavior in yourself, you might benefit from a few of Ms. Sydney's recommendations on how to change your attitude. Incorporating a few positive habits into your life can cast a ray of sunshine and help clear up some of the bewilderment many of us feel on a regular basis. </b></span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b> * Sprinkle your vocabulary with hopeful, happy words. Brilliant, stupendous, miraculous, awesome and spectacular are a few of he superlatives that separate the upbeat personality from the downtrodden and depressed. </b></span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b> * We all know how good it feels to receive a compliment. The next time you are interacting with another person, no matter who or where, perhaps a waitress in a restaurant, or a clerk at the post office....pay them a compliment if they deserve it. "You have the most beautiful smile," or "Your eyes are as blue as the sky," can just about change someone's day. Try this on family members, especially teenagers, and you'll notice a remarkable change in their behavior.</b></span><br />
<a href="http://irestmycaseinc.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/01/catnap_il_570xN.403923892_7ix61.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><b><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="155" src="http://irestmycaseinc.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/01/catnap_il_570xN.403923892_7ix61.jpg" width="200" /></span></b></a><span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b> * Take a 15 minute catnap. Don't feel guilty. Pull your car over into a parking space and close your eyes with the radio on...or sit in your most comfortable chair at home, even if you've got sugar and flour all over your apron. Just close your eyes for 15 minutes. You'll have a new found energy to get through the rest of the day. (Many physicians actually recommend this.)</b></span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b> * Let there be light! Few things can get a person down more readily than darkness. During the winter months, when the days are shortened, be sure to take advantage of sunny windows by opening the drapes or curtains regularly. Illuminate rooms at night by burning scented candles along with regular lighting.</b></span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b> * Talk the talk. Repeated positive affirmations uttered to yourself silently,will actually stick in your subconscious and affect your daily life in multiple ways. At first , it will feel weird. But, eventually, it will become habit.</b></span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b> * The bottom line is...change the way you think and the way you look at the things around you. Your new attitude will roll over into your everyday activities and you'll become a much happier and more productive person. Maybe you'll even be able to mark off some of those things on your daily list as "done!"</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>Aprons Gone Wildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05620449566168721820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4092612388607577903.post-50271300651989866672013-07-11T11:31:00.000-04:002013-07-11T11:31:14.864-04:00Whose fault is it, anyway???<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>Sometimes I accuse hubby of having a chip on his shoulder. It seems that whenever anything goes wrong, either here at our house, at our daughter's house just around the corner, or anywhere else for that matter, he says, "It must be my fault!" I think it's because he can fix just about anything. Somehow, that translates in his mind that he <i>should </i>be fixing <i>whatever </i>is broken <i>wherever</i> it might be. A hefty assignment for anyone, don't you agree? His attitude always gets me going and I respond by pretending to dust off that imaginary "chip" resting on his shoulder.</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b> We were talking about this subject recently and it made me realize that there are a lot of gripes and grievances that couples and families have with each other. Whenever human beings live in close quarters together, their differences are bound to clash on occasion. I think, for the most part, hubby and I get along quite nicely. But I know I drive him crazy once in a while with my own idiosyncrasies just as he drives me crazy with his. </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b> Human nature is an odd and interesting thing to observe...especially in those with whom we have close relationships. Learning to "go with the flow" can become an art form sometimes. Patience is difficult for some people and I am one of them. I often don't understand why everyone doesn't think the way I do! </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b> One of the things about my own behavior that seems to drive hubby crazy is my penchant for seeing every glass as half full instead of half empty. I have never understood looking at the negative side of anything when you can just as easily emphasize the positive. Most situations are what they are and won't be changed by being negative or placing blame. Hubby calls it my "spin." </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b> So when he complains about feeling as though it's his fault that he can't fix everything for everyone that breaks, loosens, falls apart or needs tender loving care, I remind him to look at the positive side. The mere fact that he has the ability to change a bad situation into a good one should make him feel warm and fuzzy, not glum and anxious. I say he shouldn't try to balance that chip on his shoulder anymore but should pat himself on the back instead. </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>(Based on my article from the Winter 2002 issue of Emily's Country Quarterly.)</b></span></div>
Aprons Gone Wildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05620449566168721820noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4092612388607577903.post-8836352198321210732013-06-30T12:18:00.001-04:002013-06-30T12:59:49.969-04:00Where has everybody gone???<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: blue;"> </span><span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;">Most of the blogs I follow haven't had a new post since last Fall, including my own! I think we just run out of things to talk about. Or we get busy. Or we're distracted by facebook, twitter, etc. I know how disappointed I am when I check the blogs I used to read faithfully and there no new post, so I assume that readers who used to follow my blog have the same emotion.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> Yesterday, I was cleaning out the glove box in our old beach buggy to get it ready for donation to Cars for Causes. It's an old Isuzu Trooper; </span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">the perfect transport for beach chairs, pails and shovels and most of all....sand. The car is virtually full of sand. Even though we are a hop, skip and a jump from the beach at the end of our road, we often like to bring chairs, coolers, pails and shovels and...kids (kids who get full of sand). so we load up the beach buggy just to ride down to the end of the street!</span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> Back to the glove box. Inside the glove box of the Trooper, I found a plastic bag with several copies of the 2002 issue of a newsletter that I once wrote and published. We had a ten year run and it was so much fun. I wrote about everything that came to mind. Hubby did a project in each issue, often creating and building a piece of furniture out of the old antique floor boards we took up along the way in the remodel of our really old house here on Cape Cod. I sat there in that old relic of a car and read the entire thing from beginning to end, enjoying the photos of things I had long since forgotten and chuckling at some items from the "tips and tidbits" section. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_HwaKrKM_E8lZF8JcBtg4J2n1oCVsg_6OzAR3BKJHYUgTdpPPzJAnw4_FpLCRoEN-oh7bbygGCTlWecmm_GYAVCWFqNt5U8ZSw6dbDD8iCe5yUdC1Hdkpgt8vFFaL83oJN42U2xgDsFoY/s1600/ECQ+blog+post.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_HwaKrKM_E8lZF8JcBtg4J2n1oCVsg_6OzAR3BKJHYUgTdpPPzJAnw4_FpLCRoEN-oh7bbygGCTlWecmm_GYAVCWFqNt5U8ZSw6dbDD8iCe5yUdC1Hdkpgt8vFFaL83oJN42U2xgDsFoY/s320/ECQ+blog+post.JPG" width="240" /></a></span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> Emily's Country Quarterly was my baby for ten years. We had about 500 subscribers from all over the country plus several from Canada and a few from overseas. It was my outlet to write and, along the way, a diary of the progress we made in an effort to bring our circa 1724 cottage up to livable standards. I bought a good digital camera that allowed me to take great pictures and include them in each quarterly issue. We went from a 10x12 page format to a 5x6 booklet that was easier to read and hold. The best part? The letters from readers who seemed to look forward every three months to their issue in the mail. We tried to make even the envelope appealing, using colorful ink and graphics. All in all, it was a great creative and learning experience.</span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> But things changed when hubby retired in 2002. Suddenly, I didn't have the "alone" time to think creatively. We would sit together in the morning and drink coffee, watching the news on TV and discussing the politics of the day. We'd have dinner much earlier so the work day would come to an end much faster. I used to write in the morning after he would leave for work, or in the late afternoon while waiting for him to come home. I am one of those who have a hard time doing things when there is noise or chaos going on around me. I need complete quiet and solace. Often, I would work late into the night long after hubby and probably the entire neighborhood went to bed. </span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> Now with the addition of social media competing with my quiet time, I find I'm completely neglecting this blog. It makes me sad but I still wander off whenever I make an attempt to write something. Reading that 11 year old issue of Emily's Country Quarterly gave me the idea of posting some of the items I wrote long ago. They still seem pertinent today even with their age. </span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> Therefore, I will now be plagiarizing myself, at least for a time, until I see if you like what I've written. I hope you will. </span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;"> </span>Aprons Gone Wildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05620449566168721820noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4092612388607577903.post-42608867683419507562013-01-30T12:10:00.000-05:002013-01-30T16:38:30.948-05:00It's a Puzzlement<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> Have to admit that I'm puzzled about something. I recently had a couple of guest bloggers who asked to post on my site. After checking out what they wanted to do, I agreed. I enjoyed both posts and thought they each fit into the theme and slant of my own thoughts.</span><br />
<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> However, I have recently noticed that I'm getting comments on those posts from people who appear to be merely promoting their own links. I wouldn't mind that, except a couple of them are not necessarily items I wish to promote so I've had to delete them! Now I'm wondering if I've been duped! </span><br />
<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> Other than that, I've just been lazy about blogging lately. Part of it is due to the fact that there always seems to be some sort of media taking my attention, be it talk radio, television, my Ipod touch or just searching around on the computer. I used to like to write when I was alone and the house was quiet. That rarely happens anymore except for early mornings and late evenings. As I get older, I don't have the energy or zeal to be creative at either one of those times. I'm even getting lax about my apron business. </span><br />
<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> I guess there are two kinds of people in retirement; those who finally feel free to partake in all the activities they've been longing to do all their lives and those like my husband and myself, who find that just doing nothing at all is the best reward. For some reason, we're ridiculously content just hanging out, reading, doing projects around the house, going to the beach or sitting on the porch. Maybe we're just lazy. Whatever. It is what it is.</span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaVL624KE2rR72S9PwPkckyGZIBCDv9U7gCc8hr2iBsRY5Wv6APwUqoXWoyiqexWyVAo6Yb0o-BcXHec8BKRoFgsDTVLUVeJOMQ-YoRapQk2NYyIeihDJ8fXM5lKlzrVKyacye-6yCYOBe/s1600/KKs+pic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="color: #45818e;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaVL624KE2rR72S9PwPkckyGZIBCDv9U7gCc8hr2iBsRY5Wv6APwUqoXWoyiqexWyVAo6Yb0o-BcXHec8BKRoFgsDTVLUVeJOMQ-YoRapQk2NYyIeihDJ8fXM5lKlzrVKyacye-6yCYOBe/s320/KKs+pic.jpg" width="320" /></span></a><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #45818e;">Just thought I'd explain why I've been incognito for a while. Although I seem to be on the computer all the time, I just don't find myself in a creative mood to write anything! I'm noticing that several of the bloggers I follow are slipping in their numbers of posts as well. So I'll not kick myself too hard!</span> </span>Aprons Gone Wildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05620449566168721820noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4092612388607577903.post-77282598575328941192012-09-07T14:00:00.000-04:002012-09-07T14:26:21.985-04:00It's That Time Again....<br />
<em><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7fxpgzphrKabM7MlfGhz0al1niU2drVMe76yWPpY_9kY4ZZ5bV5Bs4cDVo7XAKnZ9MOl2q9Kg-XbKPlC4CoYj0pGp7cptgbTcuMCs7hBB2Yq3N7fYIBqm9C2CJ94dlMGm38tn2lB6Vyb0/s1600/goodnews.gif"><img alt="" border="0" closure_uid_xzpim8="2" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464108329720487106" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7fxpgzphrKabM7MlfGhz0al1niU2drVMe76yWPpY_9kY4ZZ5bV5Bs4cDVo7XAKnZ9MOl2q9Kg-XbKPlC4CoYj0pGp7cptgbTcuMCs7hBB2Yq3N7fYIBqm9C2CJ94dlMGm38tn2lB6Vyb0/s200/goodnews.gif" style="cursor: hand; float: left; height: 181px; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 141px;" /></a></strong></span></em><br />
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<em><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong><span style="font-size: large;">~Politics!</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMOmq8XYdoB0FD7ncYUsQisCM232RIp1MlMoqcGgWe6eE_zIdaUpoLpPwL1_LMbAk6LaLfZKMo8gAQXAmIRKYadzgBOvc16n4AbgFvVy6cqxnBrndM5fq0af8a3If6SQDbYvmO6b6iIJem/s1600/badnews.gif"><span style="font-size: large;"><img alt="" border="0" closure_uid_xzpim8="3" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464108516049790882" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMOmq8XYdoB0FD7ncYUsQisCM232RIp1MlMoqcGgWe6eE_zIdaUpoLpPwL1_LMbAk6LaLfZKMo8gAQXAmIRKYadzgBOvc16n4AbgFvVy6cqxnBrndM5fq0af8a3If6SQDbYvmO6b6iIJem/s200/badnews.gif" style="cursor: hand; float: right; height: 155px; margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 131px;" /></span></a></strong></span></em><br />
<em><br /><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></em><em><br /><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></em><em><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><strong>~My children recoil in fear. My friends turn their heads the other way and grimace. My husband cowers in his recliner, lowering the brim on his baseball cap so as not to meet my eyes. This is the reaction when I start talking about politics. </strong></span></em><br />
<em><br /><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></em><em><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><strong>~It's always been this way yet it's something I don't understand. The nature of politics runs our lives. Political decisions are behind all the rules and behind most of our laws. You can get married, go to war and vote when you're eighteen but you can't have a beer at your wedding because of political decisions. You can drive when you're sixteen, but you can't have your friends in the car until your seventeen because of a political decision. In some states, you can talk on a cell phone while driving but in other states you can't because of...you guessed it...a political decision. On some roads you can drive 70mph but on others you can only go 55 because a group of politicians got together and looked at the facts and made a decision. The folks who make the rules in our towns, counties, states and federal government are all politicians. If we learn to hate politics, we have no hope of steering those decisions in our favored direction. The politicians will run roughshod over us. Kids grow up hating politics. Yet, they whine about the restrictions set upon them by politicians. </strong></span></em><br />
<em><br /><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></em><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><em><strong>~Most of my friends and family members complain about certain laws and rules. Yet, they shrivel up when the subject comes up in a discussion. Or they groan and sigh and say, "I don't want to talk about it." Well...if you don't talk about it, you'll never figure out a way to take action on those things you are complaining about. Our young people today get their political news from the comedy network on shows like The Daley Show or The Colbert Report where it's hard to tell what's serious and what's not. I love satire, but it has to be coupled with real information. Unfortunately, there's no balance in our media. </strong></em></span><br />
<span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><em><strong>~I think most folks hate politics because they dislike politicians. We all believe they are in it for the power trip and not for us. It's hard not to generalize when we see so many politicians disappointing us in both the personal arena as well as the public one. But our system is set up so that we elect these people to represent us and hopefully to do things for the general welfare of the public. It doesn't always work out that way. But if we don't stay tuned in and engaged, we hand over the reins. If we do that we can't complain about the outcome. If we "don't want to talk about it," then we don't want to know what's going on. We are content to let the daily talking heads on the morning shows tell us what's what. Too often, their so-called "news" is couched in their own political beliefs so we don't get the whole story. </strong></em></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><em><strong>~We all need to do a little research on our own. Information is abundant today. If you have a computer you can research anything and confirm its accuracy with a little more research. Armed with some facts, you'll eventually want to share them, discuss them, argue them. And when someone starts talking about politics, you'll jump at the chance to join in.</strong></em></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: large;"><strong>~In the meantime, check us out at </strong></span><a href="http://www.apronsgonewild.etsy.com/"><strong><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: large;">www.apronsgonewild.etsy.com</span></strong></a><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: large;"><strong> </strong></span></em></span><em><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Times; font-size: large;"><strong> No Politics there!!</strong></span></em>Aprons Gone Wildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05620449566168721820noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4092612388607577903.post-27687011844990394062012-06-29T21:02:00.000-04:002012-09-09T11:04:36.182-04:00Old House Emotions<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>~The author of one of my favorite blogs, <a href="http://restoringhome.wordpress.com//">http://restoringhome.wordpress.com//</a> recently referred to living in an old house as an experience, a privilege – and an exercise in patience.</strong></span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>She is absolutely right. Always difficult to explain to others, there is something about old house owners that sets them apart.</strong></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj062hW-l30mNmZjzhXSX8hVvZEff9L3pG5NZzuAkwnVqwwHkXOLCBw12cWm2VkZ7Lw6KI9XmPHvU0_6FNJT4b-1sPZnkvNuM37YZZVgB-XFhxYr0aYoeL08bzVFypCMfALa2k2O0uJaw3/s1600/002+%25282%2529x.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj062hW-l30mNmZjzhXSX8hVvZEff9L3pG5NZzuAkwnVqwwHkXOLCBw12cWm2VkZ7Lw6KI9XmPHvU0_6FNJT4b-1sPZnkvNuM37YZZVgB-XFhxYr0aYoeL08bzVFypCMfALa2k2O0uJaw3/s320/002+%25282%2529x.jpg" vca="true" width="151" /></strong></span></a><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>~While I often gaze longingly at the polished wood floors and perfect moldings and trims of homes I see in magazines, I know I would tire of the perfection. The quirks and challenges of living in an old house do not appeal to the masses. Most people are "normal" and like their surroundings to be as such. However, old house owners are an odd lot. We need something to save. We think we can fix anything with a coat of paint. We crave restoring the ugly and worn to its former state. </strong></span></div>
<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>~Often, the latter is impossible to achieve. So we make it as good as we can, always trying to maintain the integrity of its soul. </strong></span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>~My blogger friend ended her recent post with a quote from the Skin Horse in Margery Williams' "The Velveteen Rabbit," about what it is to be real. I think it's perfect.</strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>~“Real…doesn’t happen all at once,” said the Skin Horse. “You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t often happen to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”</strong></span></div>
<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>~Old house lovers know this for sure.</strong></span><br />
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Stop by our online store and see our latest apron, the "Skinny Top." <a href="https://www.etsy.com/listing/100480153/skinny-top-tiffany-glass-apron">https://www.etsy.com/listing/100480153/skinny-top-tiffany-glass-apron</a></div>
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We've discovered something about apron design!Aprons Gone Wildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05620449566168721820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4092612388607577903.post-74060933772843366072012-05-22T11:00:00.002-04:002012-06-09T19:51:10.435-04:00Rain, Rain...Go Away!<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">~It's been so long since I've written a post. Surprised to find that blogger has changed! Took me a moment to figure out how to proceed!</span><br />
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<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">~Anyway...seems like it's done nothing but rain since we got home last week from our Florida winter. After 4 months of straight sunshine, I am finding this weather to be very depressing. Good for the grass and spring flowers, but bad for my disposition. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitZepVT7FrBdrVrCtW6NgXdglAoS5Im_Au_aMcSPsZ5UVzRbVzlMaFGYge2aFvxZTSOu8DJS71tEpbZcAUwXZsyZaF2BtoW0Acdngm_GLKMXVt5csd_xsu618myPIEbfgGPzZqJPNJxjtI/s1600/002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" qba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitZepVT7FrBdrVrCtW6NgXdglAoS5Im_Au_aMcSPsZ5UVzRbVzlMaFGYge2aFvxZTSOu8DJS71tEpbZcAUwXZsyZaF2BtoW0Acdngm_GLKMXVt5csd_xsu618myPIEbfgGPzZqJPNJxjtI/s320/002.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">~Funny how people are so different. I need fresh air...the windows open, the screen door slamming. I need sunshine, the smell of a freshly mowed lawn, the scent of lilacs or roses blooming. Being cooped up indoors greatly affects my mood. Although I truly love our home better than almost anything, I can only putter around in it for just so long. I can only change the furniture around just so many times. I can only switch the pillows on the sofa and alternate the white dishes and the mustard dishes on the open kitchen shelves a limited number of times! After a while, the whole experience becomes claustrophobic.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">~It's on a dreary day like today that I find myself mulling around in Home Goods or the Christmas Tree Shop, buying things we don't need that will eventually end up in our already cluttered attic. I'll be baking something fattening for our already expanding waistlines. I'll sit too much in front of the TV, watching nonsense. I'm not good at being indoors.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">~Hopefully, the extended forecast for a wet summer will turn out to be wrong. I want to be fussing around in our flower beds. I want to be showering in the sunshine in the outdoor shower. I want to be sitting on our porch in the late afternoon sun, at the end of a busy day, sipping a cold beer and watching people go to and fro on the street. Please, dear Lord...let it be so!</span></div>
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<br /></div>Aprons Gone Wildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05620449566168721820noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4092612388607577903.post-48927529814564718602012-02-19T08:06:00.006-05:002012-02-19T08:23:41.799-05:00New Life for a Painter's Tarp<div><span style="color:#330033;">~Fabric is expensive...especially decorator fabric. Several years have past since I made a<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8QrJPwAiwaWJ8jtLXv-w2Buctjd1EttLyfTFHSAxhrdcKJmm-ZWFsw3w1-L3tlOFETN2kY597F0On5IKFLRBly4B_zXosVgHCvzMDNcx13R_y50uCaWvv7OU8HoeiSL65X_f-MQyWJisl/s1600/006.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 163px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 139px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5710836106641902450" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8QrJPwAiwaWJ8jtLXv-w2Buctjd1EttLyfTFHSAxhrdcKJmm-ZWFsw3w1-L3tlOFETN2kY597F0On5IKFLRBly4B_zXosVgHCvzMDNcx13R_y50uCaWvv7OU8HoeiSL65X_f-MQyWJisl/s200/006.JPG" /></a> quickie slipcover for the the small, barrel swivel chair in our living room here in our little Florida condo. When I decided it was time for a new one, I was shocked to find that the necessary five yards, even at half price would cost me $75-$100. Now, that wouldn't be too bad if I was sure I could cut and sew a slipcover that I would be happy with in the end. But if I hated it when it was done, I couldn't take it back.</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="color:#330033;">~Then, I remembered the cotton painter's tarp we bought last year at Lowe's. At the time, I remarked at what nice fabric it was; sturdy, woven cotton in a natural burlap color. And quite inexpensive. If I blew the construction of the slipcover, I would only be out fifteen or twenty dollars at the most. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwVTk7N899gIcsUcTYwCO6YueX4Wj0ei6hpd9meXwwCU9NynRufh1gXHxduSedr273UcxLwqQkEKOpyqdvUrbrmj-fOWqVso3bjw6m6wBv87ie7rSbQPk4pDJdTdll2Nbi9B_KS2N4JgAp/s1600/003+%25282%2529.JPG"></a><br />~So...with the help of my husband who crafted a pattern out of shipping paper, and inspiration from reading Teresa's</span> <a href="http://www.cherrycheckers.blogspot.com/">http://www.cherrycheckers.blogspot.com/</a> <span style="color:#330033;">I started cutting and sewing. End result? We like it so much we're trying to figure out how to slipcover the sofa!<br />~Where there's a will, there's a way.</span></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><span style="color:#330033;">~Be sure to check out our newest apron called Blue Indigo Border Stripe at our web site...</span><a href="http://www.apronsgonewild.etsy.com/"> www.apronsgonewild.etsy.com</a> </div>Aprons Gone Wildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05620449566168721820noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4092612388607577903.post-85397089188981999902012-01-02T09:57:00.009-05:002012-01-03T08:33:51.056-05:00New Year, New Table<div><span style="color:#660000;"><strong>~Some scenarios are fortuitous. Some are just pure luck. Either way, I wound up with a man who can create out of wood, just about anything I dream up. I lo<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOZyny0y4Bi-U7Xwkc5TPdkCL680CpHsjCBylc_q0KvKHNKZpzgHXc-KVRpf_VCNnrIqA-PLpCVSqeNmKdR6dK1xIqz0ayn4tUmFmVT7FEeepLvpmVyrxH6wd068FrxVhDuw1iN4J-hI0P/s1600/blk+table+1.JPG"></a>ve old, worn, humble pine furniture. No gloss...no shellac, no enamel. Just plain old painted wood. I often need a small piece of furniture to fit into one of the nooks and crannies that make up our old house. </strong></span><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJcYqEGwnGCCMP8Eh0PYMjQLhirEsUiS6qecRE9GnRKkMBY08ah9zM-sLcq2OfxJTMDkPTt31ChmYW88FGfHRNjGbVESt96bWKA8ILq21n72TFMz6Z8XNVFjMNZ4OuMcl1oqNOIzQkS5Bv/s1600/crackle+finish+1.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 128px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 88px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693050927219136002" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJcYqEGwnGCCMP8Eh0PYMjQLhirEsUiS6qecRE9GnRKkMBY08ah9zM-sLcq2OfxJTMDkPTt31ChmYW88FGfHRNjGbVESt96bWKA8ILq21n72TFMz6Z8XNVFjMNZ4OuMcl1oqNOIzQkS5Bv/s200/crackle+finish+1.JPG" /></a><br /><span style="color:#660000;"><strong>~Such was the case just last week, when I complained for the 100th time or so, about all the wires that are visible on the floor from my laptop,the lamp, and the cell phone charger. .<br />"Can you make me a small table with tapered legs to fit into this space over here? Something to rest my laptop on? A place to set my coffee cup in the morning?" Next thing I know, the saw is going in the garage and I'm being asked what color paint I want! <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijYj4fWepBsOtZ1gbqvkzDc3x8V2XDK7LBJgJkvkBiK1wel77KwH5YifZtAGEh517MmlXxzijJHDUPOC5ByQ6mCr76wCyYDD8WfSw12Th1Maj32rB28Mb-M_6Y15IVYfd3AtmPoEUgGmd-/s1600/002.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 124px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693397941235023090" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijYj4fWepBsOtZ1gbqvkzDc3x8V2XDK7LBJgJkvkBiK1wel77KwH5YifZtAGEh517MmlXxzijJHDUPOC5ByQ6mCr76wCyYDD8WfSw12Th1Maj32rB28Mb-M_6Y15IVYfd3AtmPoEUgGmd-/s200/002.JPG" /></a><br /></strong></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#660000;"><strong>~Here is the darling little table that hubby made for me. We did a crackle finish with Benjamin Moore Cottage Red and Olde Century Colors Lamp Black. Cute as can be and fits perfectly in the awkward space next to my easy chair.<br /></strong></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#660000;"><strong>~Happy New Year! Holy Cow!</strong></span></div>Aprons Gone Wildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05620449566168721820noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4092612388607577903.post-37883349084956993522011-12-15T08:44:00.006-05:002011-12-17T10:41:00.990-05:00Twas the week before Christmas...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeogUfOCYmn8Ii9Mm6WPP_uQf9po1lv2AJtBt3KC0oPpbMc8E9mj0715rS3y-EQ-Xn6eHVdNRhhzfJ0YMopb8VEIdicbzxymKIiVc_cTSkwLctp4_YErNPDyiDqrU1HCEkZzg1fLsyOFIH/s1600/clothing-santa-hat-clip-art%255B1%255D.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 83px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 69px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686924030318720530" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeogUfOCYmn8Ii9Mm6WPP_uQf9po1lv2AJtBt3KC0oPpbMc8E9mj0715rS3y-EQ-Xn6eHVdNRhhzfJ0YMopb8VEIdicbzxymKIiVc_cTSkwLctp4_YErNPDyiDqrU1HCEkZzg1fLsyOFIH/s200/clothing-santa-hat-clip-art%255B1%255D.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2ZhKHfmvjRCR3I0XNDRmnd1riJ0DdXeTE4lQ85uCCx6MLHLXvkKKCI1-aZCaYtWRhYO5HFLig2cZi2beFxEIl2-63Q1LDDGY9zNSQgIYTojC-CFHav54GFs8YC91-w8foZhmBHsd2sxcM/s1600/clothing-santa-hat-clip-art%255B1%255D.jpg"></a><br /><br />~ Twas the week before Christmas and here on Cape Cod, Grandpa was reclining and giving a nod, to Grandma who was wrapping and trimming the tree, all bought with her shopping from an Internet spree.<br />~ The stockings were hung on the chimney with care, ready for Santa who would soon be there.<br />~ Cookies in the oven and pies on the sill.<br />~ Save some for Santa who undoubtedly will, arrive right on schedule with a splash heard by all, at the salt water's edge where he gives the call...<br />~ "Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas! Santa is here...bringing you gladness and holiday cheer.”<br />~ Grandma & Grandpa raise their glasses high, toasting another year of memories gone by.<br />~ With thanks for their blessings and health and good cheer.<br />~ "Merry Christmas to all and a Happy New Year!"</div>Aprons Gone Wildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05620449566168721820noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4092612388607577903.post-8078173699046584862011-11-04T11:57:00.018-04:002011-11-06T12:31:37.767-05:00SAD<span style="font-family:verdana;color:#00cccc;">~SAD...Seasonal Affected Disorder...a mood disorder in which people who have normal mental health throughout most of the year experience depressive symptoms in the autumn and winter year after year. Hmmm...me thinks I see myself in this definition.<br />~For instance...the time changes back to Standard time this weekend. Happy to have the extra hour in the morning but not so much about the lack of light early in the evening. Sometimes, I wonder how I ever endured the winter months here in New England for most of my life. Not until we got to escape to sunny Florida each January, did I realize how "down" I get when the dreariness of winter sets in. </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#00cccc;">~Once upon a time, hubby and I enjoyed winter sports. We lived for snow so we could pile our skis into the car and brave the cold on some mountainside somewhere. It was a good way to spend quality time with our 4 children as well. And the clothes were cute.<br />~But now, the mere mention of snow and dropping temperatures depresses me. It means I can't ride my bike in the morning. It means I can't work outside in the yard. It means driving anywhere is going to be a pain in the neck. The trees are bare and the roadsides get messy with slush. I could whine about it all day.<br />~I will busy myself for now, decorating for Thanksgiving and then for Christmas. But after that, we're outta here...heading toward that sunshine that awaits us. Hmmm...warmth and sunshine. I like the sound of that.<br />~In the meantime, I'm also sewing aprons for the Holiday Gift Gallery that is held each year at the restored Highfield Hall mansion here in Falmouth. Part of each sale goes to benefit Highfield's restoration and the rest goes to little old me. Here's what I sewed up this week. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyEY2MFtKtgVxX_V0nZwAsoD8RXpAhq69j8paCBI2_B_I4ISspddOfX-xBSkS75WpY2-POzbtsnNBgf4zfL8bgp_jS0G3iXg40Df9LIiFVtR9vjexbErXUjZ-Rxjo2W_oIdt3Kwzwi_YVF/s1600/Bliss+bouquet+2.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 116px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 199px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5671172214087774898" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyEY2MFtKtgVxX_V0nZwAsoD8RXpAhq69j8paCBI2_B_I4ISspddOfX-xBSkS75WpY2-POzbtsnNBgf4zfL8bgp_jS0G3iXg40Df9LIiFVtR9vjexbErXUjZ-Rxjo2W_oIdt3Kwzwi_YVF/s200/Bliss+bouquet+2.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_6D9iexKgC-4eWSFUwsyeydY0RBjb_DFiKoxk1o2R4_-go8vF9HOM4N8k4Gczly93uxGFrBIirpcOmn6ohOPazRMKwLoLnQoGFKtYJOo3pxTbja7NTqkRS0T0J4pFm0JoxtdLsucyBUPU/s1600/Daiey+path+2.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 111px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5671174049125075058" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_6D9iexKgC-4eWSFUwsyeydY0RBjb_DFiKoxk1o2R4_-go8vF9HOM4N8k4Gczly93uxGFrBIirpcOmn6ohOPazRMKwLoLnQoGFKtYJOo3pxTbja7NTqkRS0T0J4pFm0JoxtdLsucyBUPU/s200/Daiey+path+2.JPG" /></a> </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#00cccc;">Bliss bouquet in teal </span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#00cccc;">Meadowsweet Daisy Path<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#00cccc;">Check us out at</span> <a href="http://www.apronsgonewild.etsy.com/">www.apronsgonewild.etsy.com</a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#00cccc;"></span>Aprons Gone Wildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05620449566168721820noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4092612388607577903.post-22430084640517008142011-10-20T11:05:00.004-04:002011-10-20T11:12:57.672-04:00Are You A Fish Out of Water?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicyU0KnfdO84YQ8RlnvUPU_NRseVSvfke-qdE_oTu91-i4A5U5ct_02qLgWJP2CVEQlc1wvH4f5EEgJqrHC-aM0b7z5ejCnuMu4CJ_01qIbdQAMEFg2OlrEeLBXxvRysRu6XrIj5auu7M3/s1600/307860_264964920195501_127304200628241_945439_8305509_n%255B1%255D.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 141px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665591917788758802" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicyU0KnfdO84YQ8RlnvUPU_NRseVSvfke-qdE_oTu91-i4A5U5ct_02qLgWJP2CVEQlc1wvH4f5EEgJqrHC-aM0b7z5ejCnuMu4CJ_01qIbdQAMEFg2OlrEeLBXxvRysRu6XrIj5auu7M3/s200/307860_264964920195501_127304200628241_945439_8305509_n%255B1%255D.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><br /><span style="color:#000066;">~I saw this little blurb on a friend's facebook status today. It's a sweet reminder, perhaps, of how and why some people thrive while others spin in circles.<br />~There's a lot of discussion about praising kids for mediocre work these days. The effort is purported to be worth as much as the accomplishment. However, I'm always torn. While one kid is trying his hardest and struggling, is perhaps another just being lazy while both might be producing a low level result? How does a parent or teacher know the difference? IQ tests are not showing clear cut results anymore. Many adults find they have no interest in what a grade school achievement test showed them to be best suited for. Both hubby and I wonder what we were truly meant to do in life. Were we steered into careers or lifestyles that were what was expected of us? Or did we subconsciously</span> <span style="color:#000066;">achieve success because we were in the right place at the right time.<br />~People always bemoan later in life that they wish they'd followed their hearts when they were young rather than conform to the mold that society put them into. But I often wonder what part plain old fate plays in it all. I firmly believe that everyone is different and not all of us can throw a baseball or perform heart surgery. But we all don't have the drive to pursue our heart's desire either. Wishful thinking often takes up a lot of time. Blaming parents and teachers and friends for keeping hidden talents hidden is an easy out. If you look carefully, the fish usually knows it can't climb a tree so it expends its energy elsewhere. I can't build lasers or furniture like hubby can so I design and sew things that I need and like and I write stuff.<br />~Individuals usually find their own way. Being thoughtful about encouraging children is a good thing. But lavishing praise on everything might not be as worthy as acknowledging specific things in each child that are worthy of praise. Those who climb mountains often do it against the will of those closest to them. Not all success stories are products of a healthy, encouraging family life. We're not all good at everything and often, not even good at what we think we're good at! But most of us seem to find our way in spite of being told we can't. </span></div>Aprons Gone Wildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05620449566168721820noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4092612388607577903.post-2614856349486556162011-09-19T13:28:00.005-04:002011-09-19T15:35:57.997-04:00Back with a Vengeance.<div><span style="color:#330000;">Okay...so I'm back. Back with a vengeance. </span></div><br /><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhplzH_PFWv5wPxhsMmhApne7MMXJBD9HvHz5kqoDJpmLwgrYbNu6dqUdTwxUY1LvDZOc7uGxn5dCnH5v-X_eGVahQw73fi5hfobdDt4DLdkcmwebMZcjyJ0uiYg3rSaeOfb5pncTquEGy-/s1600/politics.GIF"><span style="color:#330000;"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 93px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 88px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5654155772921860162" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhplzH_PFWv5wPxhsMmhApne7MMXJBD9HvHz5kqoDJpmLwgrYbNu6dqUdTwxUY1LvDZOc7uGxn5dCnH5v-X_eGVahQw73fi5hfobdDt4DLdkcmwebMZcjyJ0uiYg3rSaeOfb5pncTquEGy-/s200/politics.GIF" /></span></a></div><br /><div><span style="color:#330000;">Seems the political season has heated up already. In spite of the fact that I often get into trouble with my offspring regarding voicing my political opinions, I've decided to go with it, rather than fight it. Guess it comes with age; speaking up, that is. I will celebrate my 70th birthday next week. I think I'm developing a bit of attitude. I remember my dad, who lived to be 98, saying things like, "I paid for this road, I can drive however I want!" Or..."I've lived longer than you so I know what I'm talking about."<br /></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#330000;">My dad also loved to argue about politics. He and I came from different points of view. We would often argue until I was blue in the face. (Note that I said, "I" was blue in the face. Dad would just sit back, relax, and enjoy every minute of my frustration.)<br /></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#330000;">But something happened to me throughout those years of arguing, discussing, whatever you might call it. I learned that it's important to have a political opinion and to voice that opinion, even when it's not popular. Standing up for one's beliefs is often difficult. It can cause hurt feelings (and migraine headaches)! But if we're all passive and constantly worried about being politically correct, we risk being run over by a giant truck called government.<br /></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#330000;">There are two camps in politics. One believes in the individual. The other believes in government. Individual liberty versus socialization are two firm positions that come with plenty of fodder for argument. The argument is good and extremely important...and the argument shouldn't be stifled. </span></div>Aprons Gone Wildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05620449566168721820noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4092612388607577903.post-77148251545780315392011-06-24T10:00:00.005-04:002011-06-24T10:52:49.536-04:00Missing In Action<div><span style="color:#6600cc;"><strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-SHs7reszEg3fCLdSm5DdR6NzRPLVUp1HK4g1tioQ23oHkW5LQBl2bdoNGes-6y9Rf3w9l6c1k2VOQ0l5OQ0CO4Z8CvqtuntYhCWn3_RG3Vk8kTbBuzma4KS8tuK5J2O3_9-1T-n1e4aP/s1600/blog+writing+clipart.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 158px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 159px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621798680762722610" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-SHs7reszEg3fCLdSm5DdR6NzRPLVUp1HK4g1tioQ23oHkW5LQBl2bdoNGes-6y9Rf3w9l6c1k2VOQ0l5OQ0CO4Z8CvqtuntYhCWn3_RG3Vk8kTbBuzma4KS8tuK5J2O3_9-1T-n1e4aP/s200/blog+writing+clipart.jpg" /></a></strong></span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="color:#6600cc;"><strong>~While I've been personally feeling guilty about neglecting my own blog, I can't help but notice that a few of the other bloggers whom I follow haven't been posting new material much either. I wonder what it is? Have we grown weary of writing about stuff? Or are we just getting lazy? In my own case, it seems that I just can't find the time anymore. Blogging is almost like keeping a diary;<br />the kind of thing where you write down your thoughts each day and muse over the things you've done as well as the people with whom you've interacted. It should be simple and fun. When it becomes a chore, you begin to neglect it. I guess I'm going through the chore phase. Each night I tell myself "You'd better write a new post!" But I end up shutting down my laptop and going to bed instead.<br />~Perhaps it's because the spring and summer seasons are hectic around here and there doesn't seem to be a good block of time alone to write? Or perhaps it's because we haven't done any new projects recently so I don't have as many stories to share. Or...I'm just getting lazy. In any event, I know how disappointed I get when I go to a blog that I enjoy reading only to find that I've already read their last blog post two or three times! Maybe we've all contracted some sort of blogger virus that's keeping us from updating things for our readers? I hope the enjoyment of writing new posts hasn't run its course for me; I hope I'm just going through a phase. And I hope the bloggers I follow haven't fallen into the same trap. I'll keep looking each day, hoping for updates. And I'll keep nudging myself to get back into the swing of it. We'll see.</strong></span></div>Aprons Gone Wildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05620449566168721820noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4092612388607577903.post-67961610691758214252011-05-29T09:29:00.007-04:002011-05-31T16:39:04.884-04:00Criminal Minds<div><span style="color:#000066;">Scary and Gory things make me uncomfortable and I hate to cry when I'm watching a movie. You know...that knot you get in your throat trying to hold it back? But for some unknown reason, I am addicted to the TV series, Criminal Minds. Talk about scary and gory!<br />Last night, I almost sobbed out loud when one of the main characters, JJ, was forced to le<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQqGQZ8KXaNdunjAax3bVpMPn1Adqp8LSbrHgH2PVUhhJT-M_E_i_n_mEIxSiccXBNdRkVQiLs6ExLbmyF7GS-t-ngbSn8_JzI9w1vidweTJa-K05qXFZQpcM-wOExRc-YHvAvfKWhF2UI/s1600/Criminal+Minds.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 142px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 99px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612135966773151250" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQqGQZ8KXaNdunjAax3bVpMPn1Adqp8LSbrHgH2PVUhhJT-M_E_i_n_mEIxSiccXBNdRkVQiLs6ExLbmyF7GS-t-ngbSn8_JzI9w1vidweTJa-K05qXFZQpcM-wOExRc-YHvAvfKWhF2UI/s200/Criminal+Minds.jpg" /></a>ave. Then there's Dr. Reed, a quirky somewhat gawky young genius who has a eidetic memory and can rattle off facts a mile a minute. Hotchner, the leader of the group, almost never, ever smiles. But the episode where his wife is murdered, opens up a wave of emotions that let you know he does feel things, after all. Garcia comes off as the wacky but sweet and brilliant computer gal who can check out a profile online quicker than you can say, "Gotcha." But she's got a great big heart and a special relationship with the hunky Derek Morgan. Emily is the smart, serious one, who wears her weapon with style and doesn't hesitate to use it when needed.<br />Criminal Minds involves the FBI's behavior analysis bureau. Their job is to analyze clues and information gathered from a crime scene to figure out the personality, temperament and intent of the killer in an effort to prevent another murder that is certain to happen in short time according to the plot. I think I'm more addicted to the characters than the stories. Whatever it is, I find myself sitting up alone at night, wide eyed while munching on something or other watching the BAU do t<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdANof2A6pkP_le_cRF5OOkUqBYyWDGfwCRTyoPRaxNayiaANuUbCS3rhgxl882kwNhDh3tfTyNjUCIEqkO0_S3hsBTceY3EtslKo7Wur-VvwQBfUdrQQJghkLwI1NTgoAANnqKfFI2cBk/s1600/dark+window+photo.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 124px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 78px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612132303765741266" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdANof2A6pkP_le_cRF5OOkUqBYyWDGfwCRTyoPRaxNayiaANuUbCS3rhgxl882kwNhDh3tfTyNjUCIEqkO0_S3hsBTceY3EtslKo7Wur-VvwQBfUdrQQJghkLwI1NTgoAANnqKfFI2cBk/s200/dark+window+photo.JPG" /></a>heir stuff. As soon as hubby goes to bed, I walk around and lock all the doors, even the garage entry door (because that's how a lot of criminals find their way into the house), making myself nice and safe knowing that I'm going to hear noises that really aren't there for about an hour. Since stalkers are one of the more consistent profiles in Criminal Minds, I find myself wishing I didn't hate curtains as much as I do. Our windows are bare because it's a look I love. But at eleven o"clock at night, when I'm sitting all alone in the dark, I wish I could close the blinds that don't exist.<br />Chalk it up to quirkiness, I guess. For me, it's the best entertainment on TV at the moment!<br />Of course, I should be making more aprons and blouses for my etsy.com online shop instead of sitting watching television. </span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="color:#000066;">Check us out at</span> <a href="http://www.apronsgonewild.etsy.com/">http://www.apronsgonewild.etsy.com/</a>. <span style="color:#000066;">We have a new ruffled blouse that can be worn on or off the shoulder. </span></div>Aprons Gone Wildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05620449566168721820noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4092612388607577903.post-16453900487641596852011-04-15T20:41:00.006-04:002011-04-15T20:54:07.481-04:00Summertime around the Farm Table<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih65TGgOIeHmq3cS14TidbcOjfGJEyQRC0H4FrJNpfikYY3ADUpVb_Kqopp2XgtxyTu1-12oOJS5gJLrAGJ5g6LydHWAZGuQEK0GRW8onsX_ec090RPaHnnL-fZOMLg06P1Wv0o_AGw3JA/s1600/026.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595976648003433058" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih65TGgOIeHmq3cS14TidbcOjfGJEyQRC0H4FrJNpfikYY3ADUpVb_Kqopp2XgtxyTu1-12oOJS5gJLrAGJ5g6LydHWAZGuQEK0GRW8onsX_ec090RPaHnnL-fZOMLg06P1Wv0o_AGw3JA/s200/026.JPG" /></a> <br /><div><span style="color:#003300;"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">~My computer screen saver is set up to randomly float pictures </span></strong></span><span style="color:#003300;"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">from our picture file across my screen. Every now and then, a picture of the 12 ft. farm table that hubby built last year catches my eye. Seeing it, reminds me of summer nights on our back deck, with our son-in-law standing at the grill holding a glass of chardonnay, and the rest of us seated around the big table enjoying the evening. </span></strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#003300;"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">~Our winter here in sunny Florida is winding down. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbq9v3AaFQ_Tj762UAvzUbVsIkeTbnJS72Wn5ZQnh1ImRbQ-KkoBmW18rx5Wcd3PjOvDADonpudPTuXO1n5XQi4xsOBXJukzeL42eqjp7PLSqK6Nfewl6TM1QS4LZu51qgrk0DHBCoLMTr/s1600/new+table+1.JPG"><span style="font-size:130%;"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595976439544337554" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbq9v3AaFQ_Tj762UAvzUbVsIkeTbnJS72Wn5ZQnh1ImRbQ-KkoBmW18rx5Wcd3PjOvDADonpudPTuXO1n5XQi4xsOBXJukzeL42eqjp7PLSqK6Nfewl6TM1QS4LZu51qgrk0DHBCoLMTr/s200/new+table+1.JPG" /></span></a>My thoughts are turning north toward home. Summer on Cape Cod is family time for us. Warm evenings on the front porch, a cold draft beer</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> from the kegerator, feet up, good conversation, and then that dinner on the back deck....all of us around that big table. It's a simple life. Nothing fancy. We are easy to please. In between, I'll try and make some new aprons and summer blouses for my online shop. </span></strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#003300;"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">~I said...I'll try. </span></strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#003300;"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">~Check us out online at www.apronsgonewild.etsy.com</span></strong></span></div>Aprons Gone Wildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05620449566168721820noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4092612388607577903.post-73114307215244340322011-03-27T22:09:00.011-04:002011-03-27T22:58:58.148-04:00Lazy, Hazy Days...<div>~I'm sort of feeling like a bum lately. I've had two aprons cut out and ready to sew for the past two weeks. I just keep looking at the sewing machine and walking right by it. Not sure if I'm getting really, really lazy or if it's the nice sunny weather that's luring me away. Usually, we have a span of a time while we are here in Florida that keeps the temperatures cool during the day, making it too chilly to sit out in the sun or venture off to the beach. It's still good for hubby's golf outings but I usually capitalize on those cooler days by revving up the sewing machine and firing off several new aprons. ~But this year has been different. I just keep walking by my fabric pile with hardly a glance. What is it about the nature of people of my generation that we have a compulsive need to always be productive? Being raised with a strong work ethic sure plays tricks on the mind. I feel extrem<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXAlsTmnYA2K434doZti6Uqnc-k4djQHFWXl6IY-OKH9GI7VXqG_FnSsjvQwFzwNhx3qSWuLjQXIWfHWrCGPIkSjxKklcUwa7wrPTMny7tNUjOy4phC_cib2NIzItxlNKULgdJa5raSAyF/s1600/apron+for+Gail+P+001.JPG"></a>ely guilty when I'm not doing something worthwhile. Although I know that relaxing and enjoying life is a good thing, nevertheless, I feel almost naughty doing too much of it. </div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigWS6197OJlQmTEXSOdoztVfeoYihC4etWozQW-1efpkC75jVaSpjsb5Zs3KJOu914yqAecjs1zWXiz1vNjq7dtFNAJ8eeWjlP1-9t2qfM8JiKqfAMHI0wZO0-B1XototX-wk6KiClUXCP/s1600/apron+for+Gail+P+001.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 117px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588959859288588962" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigWS6197OJlQmTEXSOdoztVfeoYihC4etWozQW-1efpkC75jVaSpjsb5Zs3KJOu914yqAecjs1zWXiz1vNjq7dtFNAJ8eeWjlP1-9t2qfM8JiKqfAMHI0wZO0-B1XototX-wk6KiClUXCP/s200/apron+for+Gail+P+001.JPG" /></a> <br /><div></div><br /><div>~Today, I vow to construct a new apron. I do. I vow. I will. Here I go. TTYL. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div><em>(One day later...)</em> </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>~Please allow me to introduce "Peacock Feathers in Sea Glass".... a 100% cotton apron cut a little bit fuller for the generously endowed hostess. Check it out at <a href="http://www.apronsgonewild.etsy.com/">http://www.apronsgonewild.etsy.com/</a></div>Aprons Gone Wildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05620449566168721820noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4092612388607577903.post-28325915858249098562011-03-01T09:00:00.007-05:002011-03-01T10:23:46.547-05:00Sink Reflections<span style="color:#000066;">~When I opened up my yahoo mail first thing this morning, there was an item taken from Real Simple magazine about how to keep your kitchen spotless. Easy, daily suggestions that will keep your counter tops and sink free of clutter. The details in the piece were taken from a book that I actually own called, "Sink Reflections." In it, the author, Marla Cilley, attempts to inspire her readers to begin with just one thing...the kitchen sink. Her theory is that if you keep your<br />sink clean, shiny and free of clutter, the resulting pleasure will prompt you to keep your counters clean and your appliances sparkling. She tempts you to adopt her mantra of never going to bed leaving a dirty sink. Your sink is the first thing you see each morning when you start your day. If it's dirty and full of clutter, that will affect your mood and mentality and how you proceed with everything else.</span><br /><a href="http://shopping.yahoo.com/articles/yshoppingarticles/549/how-to-speed-clean-your-kitchen">http://shopping.yahoo.com/articles/yshoppingarticles/549/how-to-speed-<span style="color:#000066;">clean-your-kitchen</span></a><br /><span style="color:#000066;">~I think it's great advice. Ms Cilley is absolutely correct. The kitchen sink greets me each and every morning. If I come into my kitchen and face dirty dishes sitting in the sink, the message is "You've got a day of mess ahead of you." If it's clean and shiny, I relax, pour my coffee and start</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5ZYpMVH7MlddH07CUcT7UbAR5E0te7sK7oX-YQkZCJf1-RtifqgrR6qFy8aQoI6xMjhF64-G4LurYw8da9ovuIG5cHNyJJmXn6T4EEDujxGM4FFXzH9IBqsoB5rkZ81q2NdMOivsS18eQ/s1600/sink+reflections+004.JPG"><span style="color:#000066;"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 161px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 117px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579128173159339314" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5ZYpMVH7MlddH07CUcT7UbAR5E0te7sK7oX-YQkZCJf1-RtifqgrR6qFy8aQoI6xMjhF64-G4LurYw8da9ovuIG5cHNyJJmXn6T4EEDujxGM4FFXzH9IBqsoB5rkZ81q2NdMOivsS18eQ/s200/sink+reflections+004.JPG" /></span></a><span style="color:#000066;"> to think positively about what I can accomplish that day. I'm not going backward. I'm going forward.<br />~Often, it's the smallest things that make or break a mood. Habits that may seem insignificant are sometimes the impetus that make us productive. Little things mean a lot.<br />~It is said that it only takes 28 days of repeating a function to form a habit. From my own experience, I find that to be true. I'm certainly not "Suzie Homemaker" or "Nancy Neat." But I do make it a habit to keep our sink clear of clutter, our counters wiped down and our appliances fingerprint free. It seems to keep me happy </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpSpagnmUpWc0huLWqBfSoLoHda2UMLe8S7FONNEB9mSoayMaKD-3B6_6FjMRaklZzVWzRUGir0_nni4I5LqAfSZFZOT8t7JjGdRY5xI-UH0aymYP48aUJ-JupHW846g5gu4xu-HeXPAZ7/s1600/sink+reflections+007.JPG"><span style="color:#000066;"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 154px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579127918996582066" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpSpagnmUpWc0huLWqBfSoLoHda2UMLe8S7FONNEB9mSoayMaKD-3B6_6FjMRaklZzVWzRUGir0_nni4I5LqAfSZFZOT8t7JjGdRY5xI-UH0aymYP48aUJ-JupHW846g5gu4xu-HeXPAZ7/s200/sink+reflections+007.JPG" /></span></a><span style="color:#000066;">and frees me up to do more productive things. A peaceful mind is a productive mind. I never go to bed without first making sure the kitchen sink is clean. Seeing my reflection in the sink each morning puts a smile on my face. The 28 days it took to form that habit was well worth the effort.<br />~I took these pictures of our kitchen sink here in Florida early this morning when I came downstairs. </span><br /><span style="color:#000066;">~Put a smile on your face and send me a picture of <em>your</em> sink reflection. </span><br /><span style="color:#000066;">~And while you're at it, check out our unique selection of aprons and tops at <a href="http://www.apronsgonewild.etsy.com/">http://www.apronsgonewild.etsy.com/</a></span><br /><span style="color:#000066;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></span><span style="color:#000066;"></span><span style="color:#000066;"></span>Aprons Gone Wildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05620449566168721820noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4092612388607577903.post-89141988494634905872011-02-14T17:47:00.007-05:002011-02-14T18:06:45.405-05:00Valentine's Day<span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"><strong>~Valentine's Day. </strong></span><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmjuszWR7dCUajiaGYwb9vmwIVQCy9SnySceYV29MupPgpedUy6GtOr1h4WxkVCUmLDhFEwAyjAPZMOf5G8Ra6M9XNPZVC-a38UmMvQFtNaqgP0KkQlvebEeGcWZA3HOGAZ4I65zwl1UY8/s1600/valentine+image.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573682047042400994" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmjuszWR7dCUajiaGYwb9vmwIVQCy9SnySceYV29MupPgpedUy6GtOr1h4WxkVCUmLDhFEwAyjAPZMOf5G8Ra6M9XNPZVC-a38UmMvQFtNaqgP0KkQlvebEeGcWZA3HOGAZ4I65zwl1UY8/s200/valentine+image.jpg" /></a><br /><div align="justify"><span style="color:#cc0000;"><strong>~Sweethearts, lovers, close friends....everyone likes to take the opportunity on this day to show the folks they love just how much they love them. Cards, flowers, candy, jewelry. A marketing bonanza.<br />~Hubby and I just exchange cards on Valentine's Day. The habit probably stems from our younger days when we had barely enough resources to run the household, much less spend on ways to state our love for each other. Therefore, the card and what it says, means a lot. I always tell hubby that whenever I get mad at him, I read the cards I've saved that he's given me over the years. Since neither of us is very outwardly demonstrative, we often express things in writing that we don't express in words or actions. I think that's that way with a lot of couples.<br />~One of our daughters gets an interesting gift from her hubby each year on Valentine's Day. He writes a sonnet for her. Now a sonnet is more than a poem. A sonnet follows a strict rhyme form and a specific structure. It has 14 lines following one or another of several set rhyme-schemes. A sonnet is not that easy to compose and takes a lot of thought. Anyone who has had a sonnet composed specifically for them may consider the sonnet composer to have been extremely caring.<br />~Our daughter always comments on how her hubby is so cute about his sonnets. He can never wait until Valentine's Day to reveal his poem...always having the need to recite it the night before. Very dear, indeed.<br />~I love the sincerity of the sonnet. But I know my hubby wouldn't know where to begin. And I always find the words in the Hallmark card he gives me to be straight from his heart.</strong></span><br /></div><span style="color:#cc0000;"><strong>~Happy Sweetheart's Day everyone!</strong></span>Aprons Gone Wildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05620449566168721820noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4092612388607577903.post-46474199676889960472011-01-22T09:19:00.012-05:002011-01-22T16:37:27.926-05:00The Great Winter Escape<div><div><div><div><div><div><div><span style="color:#000099;">~Well...we're here in sunny Florida. I must admit that having the doors </span><span style="color:#000099;">and windows<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwtPLObuCJ6x2_oOi5lPYUx1ECKmPBhKX5WKUIAzs2wZ8NpYKXoi37bDxylBHWuykoBNOqtMsiLZhZMsVkl-yIkHwCKxz9hgS8XS7kXt9m8CWK5Nd-V1GuT8O9didzU6VSaVrq4l8g3Ivf/s1600/bonfire+2.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 160px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 130px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565019563391047218" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwtPLObuCJ6x2_oOi5lPYUx1ECKmPBhKX5WKUIAzs2wZ8NpYKXoi37bDxylBHWuykoBNOqtMsiLZhZMsVkl-yIkHwCKxz9hgS8XS7kXt9m8CWK5Nd-V1GuT8O9didzU6VSaVrq4l8g3Ivf/s200/bonfire+2.JPG" /></a> open in January suits me just fine. I think that's what I hate the most about winter back home. Having everything closed up feels claust<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHYOhwFqA8fefISJpfVPh4l-JLCWZGxE1NRo9MR95_L1qA99fBcEJoYpYGo3liSnoHnEl6Px9-hnuhWPGZuduUFYsyUd6YpLGG8unDhXY5uLu4ylw3axJlvwhSuBcl4Btu80_KedXcG5F3/s1600/Summer+porch.bmp"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 169px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 119px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565018805685971042" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHYOhwFqA8fefISJpfVPh4l-JLCWZGxE1NRo9MR95_L1qA99fBcEJoYpYGo3liSnoHnEl6Px9-hnuhWPGZuduUFYsyUd6YpLGG8unDhXY5uLu4ylw3axJlvwhSuBcl4Btu80_KedXcG5F3/s200/Summer+porch.bmp" /></a>rophobic. Gray skies and short days seem gloomy to me. I start fantacizing about summer and life on the porch. I imagine the tanned, smiling faces of our grandchildren coming back from a day at the beach and evenings sitting around the firepit, telling stories and singing songs.<br />~Our ability to spend our winters in Florida stems from a long range plan that began over thirty years ago when we purchased a small townhouse condo near the beach just south of the Kennedy Space center. There wasn't much here then. It wasn't spiffy or upscale. But it was on the barrier island and there were<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_hNSSzU660963Z6U6NJwhSBEX_XJv5RI58PCyosfE-7cha5NOvfBbHHFiBBhyWW_Y8T4UsS4m59yf83n8fEMhkzkIj50R8mN0xONjT6nxAjC_8fGlgzi9Xq677dWJxI5P5csK8WmCXLox/s1600/bonfire+2.JPG"></a> miles and miles of beach with little parking areas every five miles or so. You could just pull off the road, grab your beach towel and flop down in the sand. We used the condo as an investment property for most of those years. We redecorated a couple of times and as we did, we watched the area grow. We started to see restaurants, and grocery markets crop up in commercial space<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2_lwlsMjo_mOSVjOf_YQU6OVc9TAPc-JQjwaRiykf-X2kjaKB1rkQbsHArFH0fOX4glk-jgGdjN7CY0dVXHRcOpcHzSpyqy903iQ1AK3_BMku5rVPvQtBKpciIdCY738-tQviDhx_jWVT/s1600/P3080297.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 169px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 130px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565127081872117234" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2_lwlsMjo_mOSVjOf_YQU6OVc9TAPc-JQjwaRiykf-X2kjaKB1rkQbsHArFH0fOX4glk-jgGdjN7CY0dVXHRcOpcHzSpyqy903iQ1AK3_BMku5rVPvQtBKpciIdCY738-tQviDhx_jWVT/s200/P3080297.JPG" /></a>s that had been deserted during the downturn of the 70s. Beautiful condos were constructed along the beach. Due to height restrictions in the area, none of the buildings took over the clear blue skies...and you can still pull off the road every half mile or so with free parking to access the beach. Carefully planned commercial development brought jobs to the area. New hospitals located over the river on the mainland. That development opened up new prospects for pharmacies and medical practices on the island. A burst of energy was thrust into just about every facet of life here.<br />~Now that we are retired and get to enjoy our little condo and all the things this area offers, we are grateful for the chance to escape the New England winters. Snow was a welcome sight when we were young and we took our four children skiing. But once you give up a snow hobby, the wet, white stuff just means work. And cold work, at that.<br />~This winter up north sounds especially bad. No just wet, but bitter cold. Not a day goes by down here that I don't thank the big Guy up there for leading us in the right direction way back when we fell upon this cozy little southern abode. Funny how life works out.</span></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Aprons Gone Wildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05620449566168721820noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4092612388607577903.post-24231051930659906702011-01-04T19:10:00.010-05:002011-01-04T19:52:50.805-05:00A New Year<span style="color:#6600cc;">~A New Year....</span><span style="color:#6600cc;">Is it really something special when it happens? Or is it just the same old...same old? I must confess that around here it has become just another year. But deep down, I know it is something special. It's a rebirth for many folks; a chance to look at life with new aspirations. If you're overweight, you swear yourself on a diet. If you are a shopaholic, you cut up your credit cards. If you are a bit lazy, you join a gym. But what happens to those best laid plans?<br />Usually, by mid January, you are back to your old habits, completely forgetting about having resolved to do this or that. Yet, every once in a while, someone, somewhere sticks to his or her resolution and life changes in a good way.<br />~I've known people who resolved to do something about their weight on New Year's Eve and then really did something about their weight. And it stuck!<br />I guess the good thing about making a New Year's resolution is that it shows how humanity always holds out hope. No matter how many times you break a heartfelt resolution, you usually make another one the next year. Hope usually comes with a strong sense of passion. It feels good to hope. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhveiOs73X3I2j117lI2DjyT1Vyi_DtCQe_Y3FUtfLnrwnlxpEwT6m0Hb4Kk8QTlcUlw-DPSKzpyq1G9t3fHyRzMIi1tDqaTgAgq5Y08iiC1xtEMSkj9A6Wg7KI6pbOm8AQtDqNs9wNyGI/s1600/apronsemilyfla+021.JPG"></a><br />~Hubby and I are just about ready to head south. Except there is snow looming in the forecast on the day we want to leave. It will be hard to wait, even a day or two. In my old age, I've become completely intolerant to cold. Hubby says my<br />circulator doesn't work. The cold starts in my feet and spreads to my calves and soon overtakes my whole body. When we were young, we could hardly wait for snow so we could ski. That's what winter sports do for you. Make you wish for snow. But these days the cold means inactivity which leads to being...well... cold. Now that t<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir-BTD-ryIErCSsufZpnDLdb4EWYBi2Vg2um-qg6CpzeP7sBUt7f6233P3t6zL-5GnyN8RdUm_9njiJzZqBlInoxm8AbNcI8f5FRCT77APD12QHmt73v3rRI-xsReESNoE5rono0mVbb5V/s1600/apronsemilyfla+021.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 117px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558491775968265810" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir-BTD-ryIErCSsufZpnDLdb4EWYBi2Vg2um-qg6CpzeP7sBUt7f6233P3t6zL-5GnyN8RdUm_9njiJzZqBlInoxm8AbNcI8f5FRCT77APD12QHmt73v3rRI-xsReESNoE5rono0mVbb5V/s200/apronsemilyfla+021.JPG" /></a>he hustle bustle of the holidays is over, I can't wait to get into warm sunshine, balmy breezes and sun, sun, sun. I can take my daily walk without freezing; fiddle around in the patio without a down jacket, drive to the store without warming up the car first. Lovely, simple thoughts that make me very happy. Florida, here we come.<br />~Be sure to check out our online store to see more aprons like the one granddaughter Emily is modeling at:</span><br /><span style="color:#6600cc;"><span style="color:#006600;"> <a href="http://www.apronsgonewild.etsy.com/">http://www.apronsgonewild.etsy.com/</a></span></span><br /><span style="color:#6600cc;">~I'll be adding lots of new items soon.</span>Aprons Gone Wildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05620449566168721820noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4092612388607577903.post-35085073961525718912010-12-13T07:53:00.019-05:002010-12-17T15:54:00.588-05:00It's Christmas!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjticYoUOD56yPmOYeA5kJekikml3_XOCqr5O8S5ntICJ2UIy7u07DUt86AgAayD5xcRGlhwqaRSHSsvJtT9cqU5f2M7mXhOLiBFH_uxXh9aU8XFcVa6vl6VwgiJcP9JpGw9hL6ltTKwPmE/s1600/christmas+2010+012.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550170375804576082" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjticYoUOD56yPmOYeA5kJekikml3_XOCqr5O8S5ntICJ2UIy7u07DUt86AgAayD5xcRGlhwqaRSHSsvJtT9cqU5f2M7mXhOLiBFH_uxXh9aU8XFcVa6vl6VwgiJcP9JpGw9hL6ltTKwPmE/s200/christmas+2010+012.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div><span style="color:#009900;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#009900;">~Sometimes, when I read the posts of other bloggers, I ask myself why my post<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZMkTt25eo37Iwlu7vvXuXhGNoAqClwNhtegstusbXqEUQ9p3GkG8xfAvdEcC1W_4w8i8KUF8xFNoKCRQPRiGX0iOFhK6amjIB9WvsV7g2U1nxpCfN_wAKMmFPhCMI6uW06qrh4p5VVNts/s1600/christmas+2010+027.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 159px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 100px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550169469396570082" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZMkTt25eo37Iwlu7vvXuXhGNoAqClwNhtegstusbXqEUQ9p3GkG8xfAvdEcC1W_4w8i8KUF8xFNoKCRQPRiGX0iOFhK6amjIB9WvsV7g2U1nxpCfN_wAKMmFPhCMI6uW06qrh4p5VVNts/s200/christmas+2010+027.JPG" /></a>s often sound hostile. Most of the blogs I frequent are filled with beautiful photos and sentiments, often having to do with the season. Mine are often filled with complaints or strong, opinionated feelings. Sort of makes me wonder about myself.<br />~Anyway...this post is about Christmas and I've linked into one of my favorite blogs.... <a href="http://www.hookedonhouses.net/">www.hookedonhouses.net</a> . I've been decorating the house earlier and earlier each year because we head south right after New Years which necessitates dismantling everything in a hurry. I want to enjoy it all for as long as I can. We've had a primitive twig tree for the past ten years or so. Ours is one of the originals so it has <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ72-Z9tRhyKVQCFK_Qdav8M0ulOy0De5jbYRH8enFnN3eTjdkTIScAmXW0YWknCnFztd4S8I0dKFvB7f3q3O1yJHfZTH9UlJNUU2IkXuRJf27HlQWupMyD7w75Y2SX3WQL8gWegv6JeTw/s1600/christmas+2010+046.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 114px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550169109714940466" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ72-Z9tRhyKVQCFK_Qdav8M0ulOy0De5jbYRH8enFnN3eTjdkTIScAmXW0YWknCnFztd4S8I0dKFvB7f3q3O1yJHfZTH9UlJNUU2IkXuRJf27HlQWupMyD7w75Y2SX3WQL8gWegv6JeTw/s200/christmas+2010+046.JPG" /></a>almost as many brown twigs as it has branches. I like that about it. Makes it look rustic and nat<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYLdJiUuQeH8Vk4SMojIGritz-Ser_9SH9K7u4gPyppkq-saSF487iaD7axM5Vu4YQ_FRYjx05WH2jikIDMF2mn1GHuNUcUpC4Vve5O4-qBfQjpn7L7fgrn3LnEWqKdQkBjyTetRP1It2m/s1600/christmas+2010+014.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 144px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 123px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550170036205988354" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYLdJiUuQeH8Vk4SMojIGritz-Ser_9SH9K7u4gPyppkq-saSF487iaD7axM5Vu4YQ_FRYjx05WH2jikIDMF2mn1GHuNUcUpC4Vve5O4-qBfQjpn7L7fgrn3LnEWqKdQkBjyTetRP1It2m/s200/christmas+2010+014.JPG" /></a>ural. Decorating a twig tree poses a bit of a challenge since ordinary Christmas ornaments and decorations don't really suit it. The other issue for me is that our tree sits in our bay <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU5uCOEnJB3W1m6vgevzuaeiCVfYwvOhgdmI6Q-cp8p0TuahvHCwR0mL3XkXJcWi2jjMG-lBg1abzefaKcUiDNLoHdY1hKbapryFFPyhT8uIXbYIVPioIVWI_o0LUuZmNwEAOYUlegVyIt/s1600/christmas+2010+032.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 119px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 147px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550168753850762146" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU5uCOEnJB3W1m6vgevzuaeiCVfYwvOhgdmI6Q-cp8p0TuahvHCwR0mL3XkXJcWi2jjMG-lBg1abzefaKcUiDNLoHdY1hKbapryFFPyhT8uIXbYIVPioIVWI_o0LUuZmNwEAOYUlegVyIt/s200/christmas+2010+032.JPG" /></a>window. Lots of light filters through it during the day posing a problem of making it look excessively bare. For many years, I stuffed the bare spots with dried hydrangeas. Loved the way it looked because the hydrangeas turn a golden brown by Christmas time and the color added to the rustic look. But then I read an article about dried hydran<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwg2cAsXUibLu2v_Is0lxuWSzBiiaeWx_mym-3WzK1ijso5yTqWW4bBv0Ouhaae6IM7Rb9EbvIKckhcfh0zuYTbFgiWWALIBVolw5UICMBge1Ch2MS89yr7PtuXebH4Pl5bf8uCA1Jqftw/s1600/christmas+2010+018.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 139px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 103px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550169720326050690" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwg2cAsXUibLu2v_Is0lxuWSzBiiaeWx_mym-3WzK1ijso5yTqWW4bBv0Ouhaae6IM7Rb9EbvIKckhcfh0zuYTbFgiWWALIBVolw5UICMBge1Ch2MS89yr7PtuXebH4Pl5bf8uCA1Jqftw/s200/christmas+2010+018.JPG" /></a>geas being a fire hazard...they go up like tissue paper! So off with them after reading that. I now use dried Marsh Heather, which for some reason, always seems to have some moisture in it. Also bought some artificial hydrangeas that are a deep burgundy that gives the same illusion of the dried ones except they add a bit of color. Add to that the tiny black felt crows I acquired years ago from I think, The Gingham G<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0ryNAU13FOh5og7RbVDvUnqLXUSW3Bwz2W703BATBJTGIfDwkmWOEmFLO-sxZmlL4GPAYi_1ypcEWAUAXTG7AukRxVFgmcQv6CkLle50g246PQY6h5GMnHz7HP3-Wgc9YUS0DmqHk0bMf/s1600/christmas+2010+039.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 117px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 142px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550168339030344482" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0ryNAU13FOh5og7RbVDvUnqLXUSW3Bwz2W703BATBJTGIfDwkmWOEmFLO-sxZmlL4GPAYi_1ypcEWAUAXTG7AukRxVFgmcQv6CkLle50g246PQY6h5GMnHz7HP3-Wgc9YUS0DmqHk0bMf/s200/christmas+2010+039.JPG" /></a>oose in Rochester, MA, and our tree looks a bit different from any other. A few years past when I found those new, tiny lights on the thin brown wire online, I was thrilled because they are perfect on our tree since there is so much more brown than green. Now, they sell them in primitive shops so I've been able to add more light over the past couple of years. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyDq4638gnRKTwxyymfv7ZdzmSVuP2JDIzstDr1UXw17YXlVjTBPc5VBnSvsyMr3rNfDGgP01Gm1hT7rZTcqEA9oNHHcNRjx2TD5lwGpTHTnk7O4P99rhUx0W7faVBMdwb2w7BTqRa-bRH/s1600/christmas+2010+044.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 111px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 133px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550168003387549250" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyDq4638gnRKTwxyymfv7ZdzmSVuP2JDIzstDr1UXw17YXlVjTBPc5VBnSvsyMr3rNfDGgP01Gm1hT7rZTcqEA9oNHHcNRjx2TD5lwGpTHTnk7O4P99rhUx0W7faVBMdwb2w7BTqRa-bRH/s200/christmas+2010+044.JPG" /></a><br />~My brother-in-law makes fun of our tree each year in a very loving way. "Did you put up that brown tree yet?" he asks each season. Sometimes, I think I keep it decorated as such just to give him something to crank about. One year, I added gold angel hair and I really liked it but I haven't been able to find it again. Another year, I added plaid wool bows but ended up taking them off because they looked too cute. I think I'll just leave it the way it is.<br />~On another note, the same brother-in-law who jokes about our tree, gave me a sled se<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvBtxR6tmDBwUmvQNqisZeTgs6-afzOVoO_HAc6azC7y-9lTTjVZ9w41-PtiJBrX0XrA5-n39hyphenhyphenJ1cBUecOv_xk81q-IurMpdO6f4ctYy_qFi4rbgyaoJKqUw2OZD_caKHIZlk4OmXnA-I/s1600/christmas+2010+006.JPG"></a>veral years ago, that he had found in my husband's childhood home when things were being sold and thinned out. It was most likely handmade by hubby's great grandfather. It's one of those things I cherish. I actually never put it away...even during the summer months. It has a home in t<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHHVEGLtg8fq4o-IF6VZmKUrOkJxOrxV_fRDCMA2NlaNt_O4x6nx-jCSTRcl4tdaT1vjoPfpfhjDz0MtA1BPVycAygRTFHIJ3_2awIr29YDzG15F1cSe-Bg5Ua0hq_PBgMW97rsgwsBVWH/s1600/christmas+2010+002.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 148px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550247954504143074" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHHVEGLtg8fq4o-IF6VZmKUrOkJxOrxV_fRDCMA2NlaNt_O4x6nx-jCSTRcl4tdaT1vjoPfpfhjDz0MtA1BPVycAygRTFHIJ3_2awIr29YDzG15F1cSe-Bg5Ua0hq_PBgMW97rsgwsBVWH/s200/christmas+2010+002.JPG" /></a>he aforementioned picture window and our family pictures sit on top of it. At Christmas time, I put it out on the front porch leaning up against the batten door that was one of the first things hubby made for me when we bought this old house.<br />~Although I've always found the Christmas season to be hectic, there are certain things I l<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikEEICRGUjhUorOeo1K1i1FL-Th1zRLRHIA_yjdghzMILk9ZkqLmMShLOEPaJ9covjbFdQ6ZqduVn5QxI4dyqAlacKoOEr07Ssm1HoiXSLnstsgVwT9JlcEtsxh30HKq5qfB6VdIq0xeSA/s1600/christmas+2010+009.JPG"></a>ove. Decorating and gift wrapping are at the top of my list. If I could just find someone to do the shopping for me, I'd be set.<br />~Here's wishing all of you in blogland a Happy, Healthy, Merry Christmas and a bright and hopeful New Year.</span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#009900;">~Be sure to check out our online store at <a href="http://www.apronsgonewild.etsy.com/">http://www.apronsgonewild.etsy.com/</a> for some great gift ideas. </span></div>Aprons Gone Wildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05620449566168721820noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4092612388607577903.post-82715037745123211412010-12-06T21:20:00.006-05:002010-12-06T21:36:34.742-05:00I Hate The Phone<div><br /><div><span style="color:#000066;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#000066;">~I hate the phone...<br /></span><span style="color:#000066;"></span></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR41C_Op2CvEAG_dY3SJWJJc5l0Zh8mSIqRwQjfygZY4RyYPLRkr5V9C5m-jmw6QPr2vKHnlYwL8wdolP2Cf_uiShE9WgMAFw_8Y50y2-SvAzFURpyGn9X6Owtiw2vM6I9wbgrZMhxdyt_/s1600/telephone.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 124px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 104px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547763419996730706" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR41C_Op2CvEAG_dY3SJWJJc5l0Zh8mSIqRwQjfygZY4RyYPLRkr5V9C5m-jmw6QPr2vKHnlYwL8wdolP2Cf_uiShE9WgMAFw_8Y50y2-SvAzFURpyGn9X6Owtiw2vM6I9wbgrZMhxdyt_/s200/telephone.jpg" /></a><br /><div><span style="color:#000066;">~I think that's why I love my computer so much. I love communicating </span><span style="color:#000066;">but I hate talking on the phone..it actually gives me a migraine. Phone calls almost never seem to come at a convenient time; they're always an unexpected interruption. Often, I completely forget what I was doing after someone calls. The caller always calls when it's an opportune time for them...not knowing if it's a good time for you! But it rarely stops them. </span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="color:#000066;">~Not so with email. It's completely at the discretion of both the sender and the recipient. You send it when it's convenient and you open it when it's convenient. You can think before you write so you almost always say what you want to say. You can verify info before you answer a question so you're rarely caught off guard. I love email. And Facebook is fun for quick comments to friends and family. If I ever made phone calls to comment on things the way I comment on Facebook I'd be disowned. No interruptions...just a glance at the computer screen now and then.<br /></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#000066;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#000066;">~I have a few friends who prefer phone calls. I don't understand it. I guess they like to talk. I guess they don't get headaches. I guess they don't mind interruptions. </span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="color:#000066;">~Not me. Email me anytime. But call me only when you must. </span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="color:#000066;">~When I'm not on the computer, I'm usually making aprons. Check us out at </span><br /></div><div><span style="color:#000066;"> <a href="http://www.apronsgonewild.etsy.com/">http://www.apronsgonewild.etsy.com/</a> </span></div></div>Aprons Gone Wildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05620449566168721820noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4092612388607577903.post-30093763001208421982010-11-10T22:54:00.012-05:002010-11-10T23:20:04.490-05:00Please Mr. Sun.....<span style="font-size:130%;color:#993399;">~Seems I've been neglecting my blog lately. It's just that there's so much to do this <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiimetmpZh9CEnDX8prr0xU_5hyphenhyphenvQQ3VmQZQaqmyQORtYqW-8FIzCU_mbILApJ0RTZs_NS_hRypcvzGwAOubJ1UBE0ap1IpjmCYTw6465cS685QRxmNdHUs2AeX9ALZ6U9Kqy4X5SIHKYBt/s1600/aprons+for+Highfield+022.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 65px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 115px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538139371645171874" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiimetmpZh9CEnDX8prr0xU_5hyphenhyphenvQQ3VmQZQaqmyQORtYqW-8FIzCU_mbILApJ0RTZs_NS_hRypcvzGwAOubJ1UBE0ap1IpjmCYTw6465cS685QRxmNdHUs2AeX9ALZ6U9Kqy4X5SIHKYBt/s200/aprons+for+Highfield+022.JPG" /></a>time of year. Yard work, fall cleaning, yard work, sewing, yard work. We've had a run of 7 days here on Cape Cod, of wet, rainy, cold, dreary weather. Even once it clears up, the leaf piles will be soaked, the flower beds will be <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP-ezEC32H-p2_eGrZlO1xQPJKRS6R2C55ofTXTMM4bR7qmyyxRLhMhWSAugMs0QjkPzaRJKdYsPpX4KcNu3rhShaCE3FegrLRDt0YaRgx21rSuf6cJQLilMUbkpylGKq6_g1rJYOjVCmZ/s1600/aprons+for+Highfield+015.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 66px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 114px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538138956327056178" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP-ezEC32H-p2_eGrZlO1xQPJKRS6R2C55ofTXTMM4bR7qmyyxRLhMhWSAugMs0QjkPzaRJKdYsPpX4KcNu3rhShaCE3FegrLRDt0YaRgx21rSuf6cJQLilMUbkpylGKq6_g1rJYOjVCmZ/s200/aprons+for+Highfield+015.JPG" /></a>mushy and the pile of cuttings we started before the rain will be a rotten mess. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#993399;">~Today, I actually raked wet leaves in the rain, just to get some air. I have a chronic need to be outd<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinuKKPNmT-JJmtJvsiyXSWFxlrInaCEGSXwo_ijrp-Lpy2XzMHyDxwNPDD3XA5wjPvH7usjiagV_6YvnmHy9Jy_t57MsyZ5oBc2SXxeh2Ip6eYm33iYXYlWkRWMOvHZ-qknxUYGD5hkm5H/s1600/aprons+for+Highfield+002.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 61px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 112px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538137050612401778" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinuKKPNmT-JJmtJvsiyXSWFxlrInaCEGSXwo_ijrp-Lpy2XzMHyDxwNPDD3XA5wjPvH7usjiagV_6YvnmHy9Jy_t57MsyZ5oBc2SXxeh2Ip6eYm33iYXYlWkRWMOvHZ-qknxUYGD5hkm5H/s200/aprons+for+Highfield+002.JPG" /></a>oors and a week trapped in the house <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGe57fPGweBQemEGPPJK2D-LYPAfFXE1gLYzl0KnKpew3Ro-Y0r0f_Dw0r9Le2S9lcLggYFrgUIhs6vTaw1oaQmmNAR-ezGWdl7e5cjqLM-5aghCwHxwDlm3xEHolmql_Pm-GwSDQK5x8C/s1600/aprons+for+Highfield+010.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 63px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 111px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538137533243168290" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGe57fPGweBQemEGPPJK2D-LYPAfFXE1gLYzl0KnKpew3Ro-Y0r0f_Dw0r9Le2S9lcLggYFrgUIhs6vTaw1oaQmmNAR-ezGWdl7e5cjqLM-5aghCwHxwDlm3xEHolmql_Pm-GwSDQK5x8C/s200/aprons+for+Highfield+010.JPG" /></a>is about all my nerves can take. Oh...I kept busy. I made four </span><span style="font-size:130%;color:#993399;">new aprons for my online shop (pictured here), refinished </span><span style="font-size:130%;color:#993399;">the top of the dining room table and coaxed hubby into painting the walls and old wood floor in our little bathroom off the hallway near our bedroom. So the nasty weather week hasn't been wasted. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#993399;">~But I've had enough of it to last me for a while. Please, Mr. Sun...please come out? </span><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#993399;">Check us out at</span> <a href="http://www.apronsgonewild.etsy.com/">http://www.apronsgonewild.etsy.com/</a></div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div>Aprons Gone Wildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05620449566168721820noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4092612388607577903.post-77418939051535837432010-11-02T21:28:00.004-04:002010-11-02T21:40:27.106-04:00Election Day!<span style="color:#cc0000;"><strong>~I'm a nut when it comes to politics. Election day is one of my favorite days no matter what the mood of the country. On this note, I thought it fitting to republish a post I did earlier this year about Politics. Too often, I hear folks say...."I hate politics." Well...not so fast. The political process was set up for a reason. It is up to all of us to exercise our right to vote to keep it in tow and make it work for us. I am perhaps the most cynical person in the world. That cynicism keeps me focused and inquisitive. But I understand the concept of how the system was designed to ebb and flow. The political process can be our friend when we need laws to protect us. It can also be our enemy when it seeks to overreach and stifle our freedoms. </strong></span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;"><strong>~On this election day, 2010, I've thought it might be a good idea to bring back my post on politics</strong></span> <a href="http://apronsgonewild.blogspot.com/2010/04/politics-my-children-recoil-in-fear.html">here</a>.Aprons Gone Wildhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05620449566168721820noreply@blogger.com2