Little Froggy Springtime

Spring is in the air, and cherry blossoms are in bloom.
My felting is even amazing me.

I love Victoria at this time of the year.
I truly thank God for such a beautiful place to live, and the 14 Gold medals Canada won at the Olympics doesn't hurt either.

I make no apologies for my gloating. We all need things to be proud of.

Contemplating a Business Endeavour

After yesterdays rather dismal (topic) entry I thought I should switch up the program. Not to confused with switching up my routine.

What can any of you tell me about ETSY?

I know that it’s an EB&Y like site – only dedicated to all things hand crafted. But does it work?

I’m thinking about selling my felting creations there. I’ve looked at what’s already listed on the site, and my abilities are just as good as some of those posted. I’d like to sell my needle-felted work, so why not via this avenue?

Is there anything I should be concerned about?

And while I have your attention (hopefully) here are my two latest projects:


Meow Cat


and a Giraffe.

I really enjoyed making this giraffe. He stands about 8 inches tall, and is up for sale. Although, pricing is another thing I've got to put my mind around. How do you put a value on these kinds of things???

The cat is a birthday gift for a girlfriend, but there will be more to come.

Monday's Mental Meanderings

I’m feeling a little disjointed today. My regular routine was thrown under the bus when I had to get up an hour earlier than normal to get my husband off to the airport as he travels for business. Do any of you live near Nashville? Can you keep an eye out or him?

Its mornings like this that I am reminded of my devotion to routine. Switch up my routine and it really discombobulates me. A whole domino effect occurs and can only be righted by nightfall / bedtime. Hopefully.

On a different note – I had my hair trimmed/cut a week or so ago. I needed it tidied up, but also suggested some different arrangements. The two cutters that I would usually entrust my head to are no longer available. And I do not entrust my head lightly. I have so little in it, but what I do have is necessary.

Long story short, I decided to try a recommendation of a friend, and she did a nice job.

However – given the length and shape there are times when I look in the mirror and startle myself. The person looking back at me is not I, but my mom. Which gives me a horror level shiver up my spine. It’s not that my mother was hideous or anything, its just that I don’t want to be the person she was - jealous, alcoholic, mean sarcastic, insecure, and blinded to her own poor excuse for a marriage.

She had her good points – she was creative, devoted to my dad … did I say creative?

What I need to remind myself of when I get scared of seeing all too clearly the reflection the comes with disturbing memories is that I AM NOT her. I am my own person. Albeit with my own flaws, but I like to think I’m living more self-aware. I will not live the life of a martyr or victim – like my mother did.

I am not my mother. I am my own person.

I can’t help the way I look – a combination of both parents, but mostly my mom’s hair and eye’s. I have no idea where this nose came from (probably a throw back from a long deceased relative. Blast those infernal genes anyway).

My mom and I had a rocky relationship at but I can’t allow that to flavour the life that I have been blessed with.

What about you? Who do you see when you look in the mirror?

The First 50 Are Hard

Elizabeth asked me an interesting question, but one that leaves me asking more questions. Here is what she’s asked:

“Do you think marriage is easier for someone of my generation or yours or is it all still the same?”

I find this an interesting question because I think Elizabeth is making assumptions about me (no offence given or taken) about my age & married life. And as I take a gander at her blog – I too have to make some assumptions on those same themes about her.

Elizabeth – you look like a woman in your early 30’s (please forgive me if I’m way off the mark), and based on the pictures of you and your husband I would also gather you’ve been married for roughly 10 years, give or take.

I – on the other hand, will be 48 next month (but don’t feel anywhere near that), and have only been married for 7.5 years. My husband is 2 years younger than me, and we are both late bloomers in the marriage market.

So, this is where I’m at with the initial question: Is the question – is marriage easier or harder in your 40’s moving to towards 50’s (ewww blech, don’t like the sound of that fufufuffifty…. part) vs. marriage in ones 20’s & 30’s?

Or – is marriage easier in the first 10 years, or after the first 10 years.

My gut reaction is in the form of a question: Is marriage EVER easy? I always get a kick out of people who have celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary, or greater and they all same the same thing – the first 50 were hard; the next 50 will be easier. My own parents lived long enough to see their 54th and didn’t hit stride until their 50th. Which, if you do the math – that makes only the last 4 sliding on easy street (and dementia did not play a part in it).

As someone who ended up waiting until she was 39 to find someone to love and marry, I spent over 20 adult years living on my own, and by my own rules. I didn’t even have roommates for the vast majority of those years. So, our 1st year of marriage was a difficult adjustment. I seriously learned the word “compromise”, and didn’t like it much. In fact I think we can both admit that the first years was the hardest, and I never want to work that hard at anything again. But I was then, and still am 100% committed to making it all work.

Of course there are things I would like to change. I suspect there always will be. Marriage changes you, it has too, it can’t not. For good or bad, it’s just the way these things unpack.

Is marriage easier in your 40’s? You’ve got to have come to know yourself by the time you reach your 40’s. If you don’t then you’ve been living under a rock, which is a whole different story.

Would I have preferred to have been married in my 20’s? Sure, but then I wouldn’t be the person I am now. The person that my husband fell in love with at 39 is not the same person he would have met twenty years previous. In fact, we’ve often joked that we probably wouldn’t have given each other second glances when we were in our twenties (or thirties for that matter).

Marriages are complex, hard, fun, exhilarating, infuriating, ever evolving, and one of the most joyful thing you ever do in your life. Does this answer your question Elizabeth?

P.S. to Previous Post

I stand corrected. The Bumbles weren't the only ones to ask me a question. In fact Poolie asked me if I remembered how I'd found her.

So - I had two questioners.

The answer, however eludes me. Our visitations predate my life on Blogspot. I believe we were both on Diaryland at the time, and for some reason I believe "Emerald" (aka Violet) was the portal. But as in most of life - I have no certainty of these things.

Responses and British Wit

First off – a big “Holla” to the lovely folks who left me comments after my last post. You made my days sparkle a little brighter.

That said – only one of them dared to ask me a question. Thanks The Bumbles for taking me up on it. The question asked is:
“Do you appreciate Monty Python?

I hope this doesn’t diminish me in your eyes, but I adore British humour. I think it started when I was a kid and my mom watched “On the Buses”, and “Doctor In the House”. Then when I got a little older I discovered “To The Manor Born”, “Jeeves & Wooster”, and then my favourite of all favourites (in the 80’s) the “Blackadder” series and tied closely with “Red Dwarf”. I daren’t leave out the short lived series “Faulty Towers”.

Intermingled through the 70’s was “Monty Python”. And by that I mean paying good money to see their movies at the theaters. My warped and sarcastic humour found a home. The “Dead Parrot ” sketch, “Ministry of Silly Walks”, “The Lumberjack Song” to name a few that I can almost repeat verbatim.

However, my sense of haha line has its limits. I don’t enjoy “Mr. Bean” – although if you catch me on an off day – I can be seen laughing at the episode of him in a church service trying to stay unnoticed while unwrapping a mint or lozenge. That one kills me, but mostly because of personal experience.

So – do you still have any respect for me? Do you want me to destroy your phone number and promise never to call you again? Or … in hope against all hope I have wiggled myself further into your furry little hearts. Please say yes.

P.S.
The Bumbles - The Lovely Bones was an interesting book. I gave a huge sigh at the end at the picture of the icicles. But it sure does make you look at your neighbour twice. And yes - I do believe we can blame all of this on Cardio Girl. She's a good catalyst, isn't she?

Poolie - I'm pretty sure I found you while I was still living on Diaryland, but I'm not at all sure how our paths ended up converging. I'm glad it did though.

Pointing Fingers At Others

Oh man! There are some awesome topics of discussion out there on my blogroll today.

If you're in the mood to contemplate love, hate, and vengeance check out Cardio Girl. She posts an interesting question every Friday.

If you're more into blogging, lurkers, and stalkers check out The Bumbles.

Both reads have given me much food for thought today. It's Friday, for which I'm very thankful, and we have no plans for the weekend, which makes me even more thankful.

On other news fronts, I've had a few new visitors to Musings this week. I've often wondered where people/bloggers come from. How did they find me? I find it fascinating to check out a first-time commenter. Do a quick scan of their writing style and profile (and always let them know I've been by and thank them for visiting). In particular I'm always surprised when I find that I have little to nothing in common with a visitor.

Oh this blogging thing is a mystery wrapped up in a question mark isn't it?

But I'll leave you with a query of my own - if you could ask me anything you wanted - what would it be? (I may or may not answer. That will depend on your question.)

Blondes ..... Gotta Love 'em

I work with woman who is a true blond. She is the first one to make a "blond" joke, and acknowledge her own blondness.

This morning was no exception.

We were in the copier room together this morning, and she was standing in front of the paper shredder looking down on it about to shred some paperwork.

"Someone's fooling with me." she said. "Someone put the shredder top on backwards."

So ... what did she do ... she turned the piece of paper in her hand around and then shredded it.

********************

Don't make me explain this one to you.