My Sister’s birthday is coming up and I wanted to make her something. I decided to see about making her something with some lace ribbon that I bought a while ago stashed in my craft drawer. As usual, the first place I turn to for inspiration is Pinterest. I wasn’t really happy with the results upon searching lace cuff, or bracelets. Most of them required a little more work or other supplies. Sometimes its nice to just be able to use stuff you already have. What I did find on Pinterest got the wheels turning on how I could go about it my own way.
Basically, I had the lace ribbon which I cut off the border on both sides to what I liked and the other lace I had I made look like I ripped it from a dress or old sleeve to give it a rustic touch. I found a button in my stash of knick-knacks I bought in a tostitos jar from a garage sale and grabbed some string and a needle and started sewing it all together.
Here it is all together. Really pretty and simple.
I was going to leave it simple but I had all these wonderful pieces of junk I could use to make it look special so I laid out the options I liked. Mom gave me these owl earring so I decided to steal the chain hanging from them.
After getting a few votes I went with the bottom option and sewed that on. I tested out the bracelet to see how everything laid. I loved the whimsical feel of it but the whimsical was having wardrobe malfunctions (chain catching on the top and charm flopping over) so I sewed a little more around the charm and added sewed some rings on the bottom to allow the chain to still move but not get crazy town on me.
I got my SIL in on the action too. She created this one using some old charms off of a hat. I didn’t have another button so we had her hubby raid his closet for a shirt that didn’t need one.
We are tickled with the end results and I can’t wait to give my Sister hers. I think she is going to love it.
I still have some lace left and some special charms I have kept back for me. I can’t wait to make another one.
I know I haven’t been very committed to this here blog, but I’m hoping to turn that around. I haven’t really developed a good steady relationship. I tend to be more like the Oklahoma weather. I’m hot one minute and cold the next.
I’ve decided to try something new. I’m going to give book reviews. I think I will be good at it. I have signed up to read and write reviews with Net Valley.
I’ll keep you posted with reviews on upcoming books.
Keep in mind, my taste in books is pretty eclectic.
This weekend was my husband’s turnaround where he got to be off for seven straight days in a row before going back to working weekends. Lucky dog… Anywho, I can up with the idea to go hiking.
We recently have decided for the millionth time to try to change our ways and have been going to the local gym. While it’s all fine and dandy to walk around in circles numerous times to get healthy, it doesn’t scream exciting. I decided it was time to change things up a bit. I made the suggestion and since we are both outdoorsy folk, he was delighted by the idea.
Gotta love Google. I googled parks to figure out what would be a good one nearby and we asked a few people and had the whole weekend set up. Of course, we couldn’t do anything until we made a few purchases. My husband is bound and determined to be prepared for anything. I am pretty sure if we had the money, he would by a bomb shelter and have us moved in with every prepper notion possible. Luckily, we only talk about that.
After talking about what we would need, the decision was made by him that a backpack was needed. For whatever reason, one from home wasn’t good enough so we headed to the store.
“I don’t understand why we can’t take one from home.”
“Cause we need a good one for hiking.”
“We don’t even know if we will like hiking, but I’m pretty sure we will.”
“Why not wait?”
Next came the water bottles. WE HAVE WATER BOTTLES! Another overruled purchase followed by an eye roll and some noogies later, we had bought our backpack with a built in bladder bag that has a bazillion zippers and two water bottles that would put a couple of camels to shame if in fact camels really held water.
The next morning it was time to start our quest, so he headed to the kitchen with our purchases in tow and started prepping for our journey. Like men often do, or well maybe just mine, he placed the bag precariously on the kitchen counter as he went about filling our bottles and such. After filling the bladder bag and bottles, I asked him if he was thirsty to which he grumbled. And then, it happened. The bag fell into the floor. Curses flew to which I laughed. This bag should be able to hold up to plenty of abuse.
He went about straightening the bag while I headed to the car. I was ready to go. He took a little longer than I thought he would so I went back in to make sure he wasn’t finding other jugs to fill of water or something else crazy. He was taking the bladder bag out of the bag. The bag leaked. He said that it had leaked before the fall but he noticed that if not upright it would leak worse.
I couldn’t help but snicker and shake my head. We bought a backpack. We already have backpacks. What a useless purchase! If you ask him though, it’s the best purchase we made for the trip.
So I’ve had this thought in my head. Between the inspiration of reading The Girl in the Steel Corset and watching a local wildlife ranch rescue an owl, I thought why not try my hand at steampunk? So here is the first of a story about Kaleida (like saying kaleidoscope) and her Owl.
She lifted the poor soul off the table. If you were to see him from the other side, you wouldn’t be able to see anything physically wrong except he wasn’t perching. She had to tranquilize him to keep him from injuring himself and causing further damage to the broken exposed wing attached to his feathered body.
“It’s now or never little buddy.”
Slowly she placed him under the bright workspace. Once her goggles were on, her confidence grew. This had to work. She worked as fast as she could, extracting the broken and splintered bones from his naked wing. Minutes, turned into hours and she thought that she would never remove all the bits until finally she did. She threw the last bit in the bowl and grabbed the aluminum prosthetic that would replace his bone.
“Now this will be tricky.”
Runes were etched all throughout the hollow metal bones. Heal, flight, transform, bend, and many other words glistened in the ancient text. She had added what she thought was needed with great care and love. She didn’t know what she would do without this creature. He was everything to her. He provided for her bringing her small game and protected her, warning her of approaching danger. She would miss him terribly if he died.
She wiped her brow and ran her palms over her jeans. As she laid the metal in the opening of his wing, she also added an elixir. It would provide lubrication for the first couple of weeks until it would transform the wing into a piece of the strongest organic material on earth. The elixir also had magical properties to it that would empower the runes to work effectively. She made it herself from her own personal apothecary.
Stitches were added along with a fine dusting of magically blended powder. She couldn’t wrap the naked wing. Her hope was that his feathers would grow back with great speed. She had witnessed the same effects on her horse after stitching up a cut. The hair grew back within seconds of dusting the area leaving only a small shimmering line. It looked more like an accent than a scar. This wound was a couple of days older though and while she had seen the operations of new limbs on humans, she had never heard it being tried on an owl. She looked through the radioactive lenses to see his wing’s bone matched perfectly on both sides. Now it was just time to see if it would work.
17 years ago, I made a promise to myself. I was 11, but for as long as I can remember listening to music has been a big thing for me. Garth Brooks was saying goodbye for a long while and all my dreams felt crushed that I wouldn’t see him in concert. I watched him play his last concerts on t.v. and decided when he came back to Oklahoma, I would go see him.
Years have passed and I probably made a hundred other promises to myself but those have all been lost in the wind. The only one that stuck was that I was going to see Garth in concert. I have even met the man and have the autograph to prove it but I haven’t heard him sing. Like thousands of others, I refreshed and waited and waited 3 hours and finally got tickets to see him. The luck of the draw, I managed to score 4 tickets to his last show made available in the nosebleed section, but I didn’t care. I was going to see Garth at 10:30 p.m. on a Saturday night.
Everyone going on Saturday knew this would be tricky since he had a 7:30 and a 10:30 show. Colder than a well digger’s behind with the wind blowing, it felt like all of Oklahoma was standing outside the BOK center, but we managed to take it all in stride. Like us Okies are, we all chatted like we were friends and neighbors about how awesome this was going to be and waited out in the cold for over two plus hours depending on when you got there.
Playing two shows that night, they managed to reset in just 29 minutes after the first show. The 10:30 show started at Midnight and didn’t disappoint. Goosebumps were had by all as he rocked the house with old song after old song. The crowd went wild after every performance and sang along with every song. It was amazing. 17,500 fans all crammed in the BOK Center. My husband was amazed by how loud it was in the arena.
Along with getting to hear Garth do his thing, Trisha came out and sang In Another’s Eyes along with a couple others. We also got to hear Karyn Rochelle sing. She sings back up, but she is also a singer/songwriter that you should check out if you love Trisha’s songs. Georgia Rain was beautiful. Trisha walked off the stage but not before sealing the deal with a kiss from Garth which caused another round of applause.
Garth entertained us all. From the crowd right by the stage to up in the nose bleeds, we all felt so special. He would look at a section and they would shine their light on that area and the crowd would go wild. He had everyone’s attention. He joked about his guitar and how he only used it to cover his gut but he had one song he was going to use it on. Four notes and we all went nuts singing Friends in Low Places.
I am a thoughtful soul, so when If Tomorrow Never Comes came on it was emotional for me. The lights were down low. My husband’s arm around my shoulder while he sang right along with Garth, I just sat there and soaked it up. It was amazing and I feel so blessed to be able to be there with him and share such a special moment. I couldn’t ask for anything more than what I had right then.
There was an encore like all awesome concerts. He played Fever and the big ball the drummer was in spun while they played on moving runways while singing which is such a crazy amount of intense coordination and concentration I can’t wrap my head around.
The crowd was still roaring at the final bow. The show ended at 2:30 and just like in Cinderella when the clock struck 12, the magic disappeared. We made our way toward the exits. We grabbed our Garth Brooks and Trisha t-shirts which were only $25 a piece along with $45 hoodies with a free hat and $5 wristbands. All in all, it was one of the better well rounded concerts I have been to. Hardly anyone was rude. The lines were long but as quick as they could be, even the t-shirt lines weren’t bad. A good time was had by all. The only complaints were that we felt like we were so high we could touch the ceiling and needed safety belts for our chairs and well let’s face it, Garth could have played longer, but I don’t think I will ever get enough.
When I read those first four words of my title, I think of Superman. He’s Superman for crying out loud. He is this famous super hero with awesome powers. He saves lives. Heck! He saves cities. Somehow he manages to have somewhat a love life and work for a newspaper. Enough about Superman err… well maybe. This is about Facebook.
Back in 2004, while the hype of Myspace was still pretty good but weaning, I kept hearing about this awesome thing called Facebook. I had just started college; so needless to say, I had to know more about this great thing. For anyone who started out in the early days of Facebook, you know how things went down. You discovered long lost friends. You may have found the one! You possibly made friends in other countries. It’s a bird? It’s a plane? No!!! It’s the greatest thing on earth. A new was to connect and reconnect with everyone! Facebook was this new awesome thing!!! It was better than Myspace!
Fast forward a couple of years…. You have the addition of games, groups and other great features. Connect Facebook to everything. Use the Messenger instead of texting because it’s not costing you data using wifi…Superman, I mean, Facebook will save us!…. And here we are ALMOST to the year 2015… okay let’s back up to October 2014.
I’ve thought about it so many times, but it this time is really sank in. With the upcoming holidays approaching, I came to the realization that Facebook is an over glorified obsessive tool. Our need to connect has cause us to actually do the opposite and repel relationships. Our need to stand on soapboxes has become so strong and we over share so much that we have desensitized ourselves to everything. Our manners have vanished because we are entitled to have and voice opinions and we need to be heard. It all starts to look ugly.
Friends? Are they really friends? Facebook says they are.
I don’t know about you but the new generation might as well be called Scrollers. I scroll all throughout my day. It got so bad that my husband threatened to take away my phone so I tried to rein it in. He seems to be just as bad. The first thing he does after waking up is go to Facebook. There was a time when a man would spend too much time on social media that most women would worry. Luckily, I don’t.
The other part of scrolling is the eye rolling and the desensitizing. You see a post. Someone hates their life. Someone is flashing their dirty laundry. Someone is cursing their family. That stuff didn’t bother me as bad as scrolling past the posts where people want prayers or help. I should feel a need for helping. Not to mention the more vulgar posts that seep through or get shared. Every time I see that stuff, I flag it. I find myself usually infuriated that Facebook deems it okay to post. The comments under some of those are horrible as well and makes you wonder about your fellow man.
There seems to be a lack of respect that comes with having a Facebook. There is all this bad… Where is the good in it? Superman, are you there?
I made a big decision. I decided that December would be the month that I would stay off of Facebook. I would delete the app. I wouldn’t go on the internet. I would still use Instagram and other apps if I chose to share with the world but once it hit Facebook, I wouldn’t see what happened with it. I did keep the messenger so I could talk to Belle Starr.
The big day came and I said goodbye to the world of Facebook. Laugh if you will that technically I didn’t go cold turkey, but it was still hard. I kept having these needs to pick up my phone. I would look at it a second and chuckle. Luckily, I had picked the best and worst month for this experiment. It was useless to me unless I wanted to communicate, read on my nook, or post a pic. No Facebook to get on and scroll, like, share, and creep.
Over the next month, I was asked if I had been on the site. Told I was missing out. I was told I had lots of buzz on a post. Chastised for still being on the phone… Mind you, I was reading. I am a book nerd. All this hype and I couldn’t care less. It was like a vacation. I would sit down and watch a movie all the way through without looking at my phone. I was able to give my fully undivided attention and be in the moment without thinking about getting on Facebook.
While I wasn’t able to get on the app itself or online, there seems to be that pesky F logo everywhere else on the web. “Sign in with you Facebook.” “Like us on Facebook.” You really can’t escape Facebook unless you throw technology out and move to the woods where no soul lives. Somehow someone will manage to talk about Facebook. I wonder how many times I have used the F word in this article.
2015 is here and I have downloaded the app again. 100+ notifications and most of it is just the updates of people I follow. I feel like I didn’t miss much. Does the world need Facebook? No. It’s entertainment but just like any entertainment, too much of a “good thing” isn’t always a good thing. I am trying to focus more on the people I care about and not spend too much time using the app in the scrolling manner. It was once used as a tool for connecting to people instead of you just trying to connect to the world. There are better things to do than spending all day with your neck bent down squinting at a little screen.
While I don’t feel like doing it now, I’m sure there will still be days where I want to delete it forever. That just seems like a big thing to me. To delete your Facebook… It’s like burning a diary or your credit history. If you have been on there as long as I have, it has memories stored on your personal page. That may be the one way that Facebook is underutilized by so many. Maybe one day that will change, but I’m not counting on it.
Facebook has become a necessary evil and the world could use a Superman.
I see my last post was from September. For those of you who don’t know, fall showed up and it was time to get down to business. My husband and I disappeared into the woods. Social media and internet was put on the back burner. I still managed to sneak a little here and there but I don’t think I would have been able to sit still long enough to actually write. Some exciting things have happened since then and I’m here again to tell the tales.
My deepest apologies to those who truly were wondering where the Shotgun girls went. Hope you all had a MERRY CHRISTMAS, Happy New Years, and enjoyed those black eyed peas. This year is going to be great!!!!
From a couple of previous post, you may see where I still have my days of missing my Great Grandparents and especially my Grandpa who passed away a couple of years ago. He was a great man. His influence on his family is still present to this day and I have no doubt will be for generations to come. His love of the Lord and playing music is woven into the very fabrics of our lives.
My heart aches some days at the memories I have and the times I wish could still be, but if there is one person I know who hurts from it more than I, it is my Dad. He’s changed from it and as much as I wish I could say it is for the better, some days we know it is not. I have no doubts on the foundation on which he stands on but sometimes I wonder about the walls he has constructed.
I found you in the strings.
I can’t sing. Never could. Mom says we have this monotone voice. As much as I try to sound Trisha, Faith, or Shania, I just can’t. Cats in the neighborhood run. But I have found that I can play the flute. Grandpa was so excited to have me play music with him. He would go back in the room and open up a music book and I would play the melody while he would play chords. He was always so patient and just happy to strum along. Sometimes he would sing along. I had forgotten about that part…
Until this past Saturday. I had been practicing some chords and know some of the notes on the guitar so I asked Dad about coming down and playing since Mom had to work. I took some of the music books I had and headed down there with the guitar and my flute. Unfortunately he didn’t have the strings on his acoustic but he broke out the electic guitar and said here check this out. While he was busy checking out something I strummed a few bars of Red River Valley and he came and we played some more of it together.
Before I knew what was happening, he was gushing about his laptop which I usually have negative feelings toward since this has become my Father’s best friend, but he showed me how you could record with it and set it down and we played Red River Valley.
I was so nervous. It had been so long since I had played and as much as I wanted it to be perfect, I couldn’t help but feel like I had an audience besides my Dad and I. I just kept thinking about Grandpa and how proud he would be to see his Son and Granddaughter doing something that we used to always do.
Just like Grandpa, Dad didn’t care that I was off beat. He didn’t care that I was all nerves. He was just happy to be playing.
He hit stop and we played it back and we couldn’t help but just laugh and smile at each other. We were so happy and proud of it. It doesn’t sound like anything special but it was us practicing for the first time just the two of us. It was like applying salve to a wound, an itch that needed scratching.
I’m not looking for any critiquing but here is our first take: