Shop . . . Craft . . . Stop . . . Repeat

I love projects.  I love coming up with the idea.  I love the listing of the required materials.  I love shopping for said materials.  I love choosing.  I love creating.  I love seeing the progress I have made.  The problem with me lies in the finishing.  I can't seem to finish a project.  I have half finished crochet blankets.  I have half finished cross-stitch pictures.  I have half finished scrapbooks and drawings.  I even have half painted ceramics.  There are a few projects over the years that I have finished and I take great pride in those.  I don't really know why I have such trouble finishing a project.  Maybe its my ADD.  Maybe I lose interest in the project once I get so far into it.  That could be it.  Maybe its my OCD.  That desire for everything to be perfect.  I know that there are mistakes in my projects so they can never be perfect so why try to finish them.  They'll always be incomplete because they're not perfect.  Either way, I don't know why I do it but I do.  I start a project and then just kind of . . . stop.  I think about them.  I think about how I really should finish them but I just don't.  Maybe its not so much the creating as it is the shopping.  Maybe I justify shopping for materials by starting a new project.  Then I get to make a trip to the local craft store and load up my cart.  Oh my God, I am a shopaholic!  I am justifying my need to purchase things.  I am using my projects as an excuse.  I am making another trip to Michael's today.  Shhhhhh!  Nobody tell Hubby!

Learning Your Colors

I remember when my daughter was in first grade.  She came home from school one winter day and told me she had some big, important news.  She told me I probably should sit down for this.  I obeyed not knowing what to expect.  She sat down on the couch next to me and very seriously said, "Mom, there are black people and there are white people."  I stifled a giggle and then the irritation grew within me.  We had done so much hard work to raise our child color-blind when it came to people's skin.  We always lived in very multi-ethnic communities.  We never addressed people by the color of their skin.  It was always "The boy in the blue shirt" or "The woman with the baby".  We went to great effort to raise her to see people as people - not as colors.  Then she went to school.  First grade.  They were celebrating black history month and that's where my daughter learned about color.  (She probably would have learned it in Kindergarten but we had moved from another country during black history month of her Kindergarten year so she missed quite a bit.)  It is amazing how something with such good intentions can corrupt such wonderful innocence.  I have to say that that one moment was probably my most proud moment as a parent.  We had done it.  We had raised her color-blind - even if it was for only the first six years of her life.  Thanks American school system.  Thanks.

Coming Soon: An Original Remake

I happen to like my childhood and the entertainment it included so please, Hollywood, leave the seventies and eighties alone.  Try coming up with some new ideas and making those into movies instead or digging up things that are dead and burried for regurgitation into something that is similar to the original but from some alternate universe where things suck.  The latest to fall victim to this horrible happening are the poor unfortunate smurfs.  Have you seen the advertisements for this movie?  The smurfs have been all CGed up to look like scary little freaks.  They have even appeared to add more updated smurfs to the pack.  Who had the great idea to add a "Gutsy Smurf"?  These are classics.  They are called that for a reason.  They don't need remade.  Just because we have new technology doesn't mean we should update "The Wizard of Oz" does it.  That tornado sceene is so fake compared to what we could do today.  Now, I'm not putting the smurfs on the same level of iconic as "The Wizard of Oz" but you get my drift.  I love these things the way they are and think they should be left as such.  If you want to bring them back, bring them back in their original form.  Put the classic smurf cartoons back on Saturday mornings.  I'm sure there are many children who would enjoy it, as well as parents who would love to relive their childhoods through their own children.  I guess that is the market they are going for by remaking . . . well . . . everything but remaking it takes the nostalgia factor out of it.  And what is the track record for this remaking of everything?  Can anyone say "Flintstones the movie"?  How about "Garfield the movie?  How many of you saw that one and thoroughly enjoyed it?  Hollywood take my advice and leave well enough alone and stop messing with my memories!

Postal Preparedness

Dear People of America -
I have a request.  When you wish to send someone a gift for their birthday, by all means feel free to do so.  Buy them something nice.  Wrap it up in pretty paper and tie a bow on top.  At this point in the process, whatever you do, DO NOT PROCEED TO THE POST OFFICE WITH NOTHING BUT THE WRAPPED GIFT!  It is not the responsiblity of the postal employee to find you a box or other package in which to mail said gift.  Nor is it their job to find you tape and scissors with which to continue the wrapping process.  Borrowing a pen is bad enough but let's come a little prepared here people.  And let me just say that if you do come to the post office - totally unprepared - and expect the postal worker to do your job - just to be told that you need to do things for yourself - and you leave the line with your gift to package it up properly -  DOES NOT GIVE YOU THE RIGHT TO SKIP BACK TO THE FRONT OF THE LINE!  The rest of us came prepared and had to wait while you were given all the packing materials you needed that you should have USED AT HOME!  Get in the back of the line and wait your turn again!  You've already caused enough trouble.  True story.  I'm just sayin'.

Reality: The Great Wake-up Call

The other day my Grandma fell and broke three ribs.  A horrible thing for anyone but especially horrible to a lady in her eighties.  She is quite bruised up from what I understand.  But she is one stubborn Polish chick.  She fell at about 3 am and didn't tell anyone until 10 am.  Seven whole hours she sat there in pain!  Now I know where I get my stubborn streak from.  But this latest fall got me to thinking about just how fragile life is and with that thought came the wonderful "cloud of depression" settling over me.  I kind of think this time it is descending over the entire family.  We have watched as a family as those elderly pillars of strength have become weaker and weaker but there was always a sense of "they've always been there and always will be".  They have beat the odds numerous time, but now I think we are facing the fact that there is no way "always being there" is possible.  Things need looked at in the light of reality and not through rose-colored glasses.  While they cherish their independence is it indeed in their best interest.  I hope these subjects are being broached by those with more authority than me.  I am but a mere grandchild and would quickly be given the evil eye if I were to bring it up to the family.  Plus I am not there - geographically.  So I sit here and brood because I am so far away that I hardly ever get to see them anymore.  Its a fact that I can't really help but it stills hurts.  My visits have always been marked with the passing notion of "I wonder when I'll see everyone again".  Now, that will be followed by "if I ever see them again".  My own mortality is settling around me and making me solemn.  Everyone that we have in our lives is a gift.  Every moment we have in our lives is a joy.  Make the most of it.  Write a letter, make a phone call, go for a visit, but let those you love know that you love them.  You don't know when that moment may slip right out of your hands.

This is the Story of a Girl who Cried a River and Drowned the Whole World

Today was one of the hardest days of my entire life.  See Monday, the social worker in Far Away was supposed to tell Frontrunner that we would not be adopting her.  Wednesday she still didn't know.  Thursday she still didn't know.  Today when she was chatting with me on the computer, she still didn't know.  I felt like I was lying by omission.  It sucked.  I had not idea when the social worker was actually going to tell her and I thought it cruel not to so I told her.  It was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do in my life.  I spent the entire time blubbering and sobbing.  Our decision was multi-faceted but the main reason were her family ties.  Her family ties were from our point of view much stronger than we were led to believe.  Not that we wouldn’t allow a child to have any family bonds, its just that we didn’t feel right moving her over a thousand miles away from those family ties.  We don’t feel that the adjustment to a new community and school that is tremendously larger than the community and school she currently is a part of was going to go smoothly at all.  She would miss out on the personal attention that she receives in that environment.  She also had a ton of freedom and control in her current situation.  Freedom and control she would have lost by coming to live with us and our rules.  It would have felt like a prison.  It was a heart-wrenching decision but we felt it was in her best interest.  I reassured her that we love her and we really do.  I will always love her.  I am just afraid that she hates me.  Hates us.  I still want to be there for her as a support in her life but fear she will shut us out completely.  I am grieving this loss and have no interest in looking for another child to adopt.  I feel like a mean, heartless monster.  I just hope some day she can forgive me.  Great, I’m crying again.

Blessed Be the Tithe that Binds

We got a letter some time ago from the catholic church of which we are official registered non-attending members.  Basically, it said this:  Their campaign to increase their members' giving has been successful and their incoming finances are better than expected so please, give more.  Yup, that's right they have extra money and they still want even more.  I just don't get it.  Yesterday, we got two phone calls solicating money for police forces.  Two in one day!  One was for the local sheriff and the other for the state police.  I'm sorry but I thought that was what I paid taxes for but now you want to call my house asking for more?  Then there are the weekly calls we get from the vietnam veterans, the lupus foundation and many other organizations asking if we have anything to donate to their cause.  They of course take items as donation but don't they think calling every week is a bit obsessive.  Oh, and my favorite, the college that my husband attended calls about once a week to ask for "alumni support".  Are you kidding?  First off, he went to school on-line so he didn't really experience your campus which coincidentally could use many new, improved buildings and lots of other expensive crap.  Second, we had to pay the huge price tag for his education.  Why would we continue to fork over more cash?  Shortly after receiving our well worded begging from St. Down the Street's, we got yet another request in the mail.  This time from the regional catholic diocese asking for money for their fundraising campaign.  It seems to me that when it comes to these organizations the left hand doesn't know what the right hand is doing because both hands are open and asking for cash.  Working at a church, I type the hymn titles into the weekly bulletin for the parishoners.  I always chuckle when I type the hymn "Blessed Be The Tie that Binds".  I can't help but think to myself the more appropriate title would be "Blessed Be the Tithe that Binds".  Hee hee!