Hand Puppets, Princess-Style

“Hand Puppets” was misleading. It’s actually “Hand Puppet.” As in… one. I made one. I need to make quite a few more, but I’ve had to change my course. When I started out, I planned on making hand puppets that somewhat resembled Disney Princesses. I decided to start with Jasmine. This is what I came up with.
Please keep in mind that I’m terrible at stuff like this. I don’t know WHY I think I’m capable of attempting crap like this. As I hot glued the second gogglie eye on, I looked at the puppet and laughed.
She looked a little less like Jasmine and a little more like Potiphar’s wife.

So I picked her up and tried to force her to be Jasmine.

But I really REALLY just wasn’t feeling it. I was a little depressed that I had just created a rather less-than-admirable Bible character for my daughter. I guess I COULD teach her a few new stories with puppets.
“Mommy, what does ‘lie with me’ mean?”
Nothing baby. Go play with your Barbies…

In the end, I decided to simply rename her but keep with the whole Bible theme.

Queen Esther. THAT’S someone we can all get on board with, right? Who should I make next? The King? Her Uncle? The man who is hung by his own gallows? How would one make gallows for a toddler’s puppet theater? Pipe cleaners and yarn?
Anyway, as soon as I’m done with Esther’s story, I’ll probably start on Ruth and Naomi. I COULD go with Moses or Jonah, but the idea of making any sort of animal hand puppet is daunting.
I’ve tossed around the idea of making a few Book of Mormon hand puppets, but they’re a little harsh. For example: is it in good taste to make a puppet sword out of pipe cleaners for Nephi to smite Laban’s head off?
What about Ammon and the arms?
Just how WOULD that work in a puppet theater?

Maybe I ought to stick to less-than-worthy princess puppets.
Maybe I ought to bag the idea entirely…

Quotes

I’m a quote nut. I love them. When I was about 10, I discovered a beautiful red quote book on my mother’s shelves. I read it every chance I got. I even snagged a quote from it to cross stitch, “A light heart lives long.” I loved alliteration before I even knew what it was. The word gods smiled kindly on me one day, and my mother gave the book to me. I keep it always at the ready. I rely on it. I’ve given it a spot in the lately added Reading Corner of our bedroom. The Reading Corner, it must be noted, is sacred. It is my pacification for my lack of a library. The Reading Corner is wonderful. The only thing its missing is a chair. Rather important, I know… and just as soon as I have the cash-o-la, there WILL be a chair. And when I fully assemble The Reading Corner, readers will come. Mainly me, but STILL.

As I adjust back to my pre-holiday schedule, I’m struggling to find my pace again. My life is too full, and after May I’ll be making some radical schedule changes. Until then, I’ve got to keep muddling through. Until then, my quote book won’t be far away.

There’s one quote I keep always at the forefront of my mind. It’s by Benjamin Franklin, who I truly believe would have been my dearest friend had I lived in his time.
“Either write something worth reading, or do something worth writing.” That’s what he said. Why did he say it? Because he knew I would need to hear it, for though we can’t be bosom friends in real life, he certainly can’t shy away from being my guardian mentor. Oh, he can try… but his words are immortal. I will find them. I will use them. I will write something worth reading.

In fact, when I’m not writing something worth reading, I’m usually doing something I end up writing about. I write about everything -hence, this blog.
And now I will admit something to you. Last night, I nearly bid adieu to you and you and you. My domain was about to expire, and I seriously considered letting it. I didn’t WANT to, mind you, but I brought it up to my husband in the form of “Perhaps I ought to be focusing my writing elsewhere. Perhaps I ought to be with my children. HEY perhaps we ought to get rid of the internet and make our own soap and live off the land! I’ll make bonnets for myself and the children! Let’s buy wool! Let’s make you wool pants! LET’S MAKE OUR OWN WOOL!”
At this point, he jerked me back down to earth, handed me my debit card and begged me to renew my domain name. So I had a passing fancy. So I want to rewind time and live in a land without technology. So what?

I thought about Benjamin Franklin as I woke up this morning. I long for a greater measure of simplicity. I long for many more days exactly like I had over the holiday. I long for The Reading Corner. I long for a bonnet.
Well, there’s always the reading corner, anyway. And there’s always Benjamin Franklin. Do you think he’d mind showing up a little bit more? I mean, he doesn’t have to actually come around. He could just send a few green papers with his picture in the middle of them. I’d be happy with that -and what guardian would do less? I ask you.
In the meantime, I’m logging off. I’m going to make hand puppets that hopefully resemble Disney Princesses as a birthday gift for my soon-to-be FOUR year old.
I’ll be back tomorrow telling you all about it. It may not be worth reading, but it will certainly be worth writing if for no other reason than to serve as a reminder to never attempt it again. I’ll see you the other side of a few felt catastrophes.

The Box

As I was cleaning yesterday, I came across an old shoe box.  I had bought the shoes in college and I’ve since lost them, but the box was more important than the shoes anyhow.  Prior to owning the box, the longest I’d ever dated anyone was two months -hardly long enough to acquire anything.  One night, I wore the shoes to a fireside.  After the fireside, my soon to be husband took me for a long drive.  We spent every day after that together, and I started accumulating stuff.

Two pictures of him.

The carnation he left on my windshield.

A note that he left on a my windshield with a carnation.

An empty bottle of his cologne.

A rose he’d jokingly made out of a paper towel.

When I moved home for the summer, the box’s contents grew considerably.  It started housing letters, printed-out emails, movie stubs from the various movies we saw together over the weekends, cards, more pictures, and eventually… ring catalogs.

Someone gave us a small wooden chest as a wedding gift.  The contents of the shoe box have slowly migrated to the wooden box.  A few weeks ago, I made the move complete and I placed the wooden box on a shelf over our bed.  I keep it as a sort of reminder -a first-aid kit, if you will.  Sometimes, I start to lose sight of why I fell in love with my husband.  I don’t MEAN to do it, but it sometimes happens.  I purposefully put that box in an easy-access location.  Now I see it every day, twenty times a day.  The contents of the box continue to grow, and I’ll be forced to scrapbook some of it soon (NOOOOOO!!!!!!).

Sitting on top is our wedding video.  Under that are cards from our anniversaries, chopsticks from the date where we both tried sushi for the first time, yet MORE movie stubs, cards given on any given day just because… and the list goes on.

Yesterday as I cleaned, I came across the old shoe box and opened it to find it full of a few trash-worthy items that had nothing to do with my husband or I.  So I snapped a picture for posterity’s sake, and then I threw it away.
Maybe it will find the shoes it came with in the landfill. Who knows?
All I know is that I was rather embarrassed when my boyfriend discovered I had frilly box dedicated entirely to him. If I had a “bimbo” stamp, I probably would have used it on my forehead that day. Thank goodness he married me despite the box. Thank goodness he loves the new box as much as I do.
Thank goodness for love.

And Then I Resolved

My bedroom is outlandishly horrid. I’m grateful for it, but you wouldn’t be able to tell by looking at it.

Boxes here, bags there. Clothes here, papers there.

The fact is: my bedroom is the back room. No one sees it except for me and my husband (and our kids, but they don’t count because they don’t go running to the neighbors and saying “My parents bedroom looks like a junk yard!”). I invest my time and energy into the living room, the kitchen, the kids’ bathroom and bedroom. Well, I told my husband about a week ago that I’ve had enough. Let the rest of the house go to the dogs! Our room must and will get taken care care of! I told him what I wanted the set up to be. I told him what color scheme I wanted. I told him that I firmly believed it would enrich our marriage to have our room be very much our own rather than what is was: very much where neither of us wanted to be. And so he dutifully cleaned while I stretched out on the couch and tried to overcome the worst cold I’ve ever ever had. Ever.
But, he told me, he couldn’t clean our room without taking care of the rest of the house first. I nodded warily, told him I knew how he felt, and then I closed my eyes. Four hours later, I woke up to a clean house. Four hours after that, it was just at dirty as it had been before my nap. My frustrated husband sat down next to me on the couch.
“I swear I cleaned it!” He said, “The kids were just RIGHT behind me.”
“Darling,” I croaked out, “You sound remarkably like your wife.”

Thankfully, I was up and able to help by Saturday evening. We went to the city and bought a few things for our room. I made sure we came home with three under the bed storage bins for my fabrics and yarn. When I first started sewing, I bought a teensy storage bin for my fabrics and yarn. As I organized everything last night, I used that teensy bin JUST for my scrap fabric.

I went on to completely FILL ALL THREE BINS. I couldn’t believe it. I was disgusted with myself. I have a true yarn buying addiction! Do you know how many shades of brown I have?! How many does a girl really NEED? Don’t get me started on reds. Really, don’t.

As I shoved the three bins under my bed, I decided to make a New Year’s Resolution -something I really hadn’t planned on doing at all. This year, I’m going to USE that stuff. This year, I’m going to spend my Mondays making sure I finish at least TWO crafts a day and then I’m going to sell what I make at a boutique. I’ve got TONS of stuff -I really do. I can not – I WILL NOT buy any more until I used up some of what I have.

I won’t craft today -even though it’s Monday -because my room is still in shambles. My entire house is actually in shambles, but I’ve got to conquer my bedroom before I worry about the rest of the house.
I DO have my fabric and yarns organized.
I DO have my wrapping paper and bags organized.

Things are starting to come together, but it always gets worse before it gets better.
That seems to be a theme in my life.
Check back later for a clean bedroom and a few aprons.