Gingersnap

While little Olivia dreamed of salmon treats and chasing mice, the UPS man delivered a large heavy box to our residence.  "I don't know what's in it," said the man in brown. "But it is heavy!" Oddly enough, I didn't have to sign for it and admired that big box for a bit. A good friend of mine had thoughtfully purchased a cat tree for Olivia, but I didn't expect for it to be so huge... And one that must be built. I'm not a construction, hands on genius, but thankfully Rob was there to help assemble the big tower of cat scratching and infinite play time. With very basic instructions, we were good to go. Except the manual at times left off things that we had to figure out on our own or we had to use judgment. A bit of easily resolved frustration. Leaving things out of the equation- mainly the fuzzy cylinders and two medium sized scratching sticks, not everything was going to be screwed into the cat tree. We "finished...

Not just in heart and spirit, Meano was to be forever immortalized in art. Yes, I've drawn and painted him several times over the years, but this was different. I was asked and approached to create a piece about a wonderful, good dog friend. With him being gone, I wanted to make it even more special, invoking every last aspect of love. I had been given free reign on size and medium. On black matboard, I began layering the oil pastels on thickly. (I only use my Holbein! Best pastels ever!) Yellows, oranges, browns, greens, reds, and blues built up a joyous, tongue dripping, rich butter faced dog. For hours, I worked in various places- bedroom floor, living room table, in my friend's classroom, and at Starbucks. Such an honor, hearing compliments by family, friends, and strangers as I progressed. I wanted the pastels to stand out, but couldn't leave the background black. Didn't want to think of him in a dark, miserable place lacking sunshine and positive energy. Doggy Hea...

Dear Lips, People say that I am supposed to like you, But at times, I cannot make do. Your bow tipped shape is not so nice, The only thing you are good for is to entice. Too fat, too big, and too full, Are you not breaking a golden rule? I hate how men often stare, It is hard pretending to be unaware. No I am not in denial. Their comments are shocking, gross, and vile, See you are the dastardly villains in my world, Contents that of which the stomach hurled. Short in height, no I do not wish to be taller, I want you both to be a little bit smaller. Sad and ashamed, Face Dear Face, What is the meaning of this disgrace? For surely I do not take up so much space. Eyes are big, almond, and brown, Wide, broad nose takes the middle crown. I am a striking part above the chin, Certainly a situation that is beyond a win! You should love me. And let this be! Of a woman who is so beautiful and chaste, Men do appreciate such fine, quality taste. Do not feel this impending doubt. And take the fooli...

On a chilly early evening, I purposefully strode into Starbucks. "Uh oh here is another soy chai lover," said short, brown haired, blue-eyed Barista Man. As soon as I came in, the young, peach-skinned lad in white shirt and signature green apron always knew what I wanted. A grande sized soy hot chai tea. Today was obviously no different. "Yes," I beamed cheerfully. "That would be me!" Cold and shivering from outside's massively dropping temperature, I couldn't wait to be warmed up with my favorite beverage. The two people ahead of me seemed distressed. Okay. More like three people. There was a baby on the ground. In one of those baby carrier whatchamacallits. "What's going on?" I politely asked, through clenched I-Freaking-Need-My-Fix teeth. "We're out of soy milk," Barista Man groaned. Immediately, I fought back tears. What the fudge? Didn't I just see about 80 cartons of soy milk in their fridge yesterday? Not that...

Started my day like no other! Good ole cleansing deeply penetrative, oatmeal pomegranate facial mask by Befine Natural Products (totally would give Burt's Bees a run for their money) pre-shower! Gotta love it! Gives your hands a sweet lil warming sensation before you slather it onto every inch of a dirty, rough from sleep face. Yes, that's my own duckie towel! Soft, adorable, and overall nice to laugh at. It doesn't belong to a baby or toddler. Mine! Mine! Mine! Hahahaha! ;) Birthday or not, no way am I posting a "before" pic. The way I look first thing in the morning is top secret, vaulted, highly classified information! Mrs. Rogers knows me so well! This is why I love her. The chocolate candle smells so deliciously sweet that I was bound to eat up that entire jar of wax, but thank heavens for those two Reese Cups stopping me from inflicting bodily harm on myself. I doubt anyone would want to spend their birthday in an emergency room due to candle consumption.......