October 15, 2009

Wanted: Your Decorating .02 Cents

Okay, so let's say that I'm getting the yen to actually, finally, decorate the attic/play space. I mean sure, it's been nine years and we'd hate to rush in to anything but I'm thinking it might be time.

So I need input, opinions. I could just go ahead and do what I want but I'd rather endlessly hash over the ifs, ands, or buts. If I play my cards right I could put off a decision - and thus not have to actually bust a move to do anything - for a few more years, easy.


So right now we have worn, scrubby old stairs. Rustic, yes but splintery too. Being a lover of typography I'm kind of drawn to this look. Finished tread, white back, some lettering. Is this a "love it" or a "hate it" do we think? (Note: I am definitely anti-harlequin diamond shapes so those are not even on the table (or stairs) for discussion).



And, what is "our" opinion on paint/stain hybrids for railings ala'



Please comment or e-me. I just can't do this alone!


October 14, 2009

Better left unsaid

Isuspect everyone who knows me thinks "oh that Kym, she's so outspoken" (that or "her big mouth is going to get her beat down one day") but I often say I don't get enough back-pats for my remarkable self-control.

Case in point our recent soccer game in a nearby community. This I refer to as "the place where sportsmanship goes to die."

For Matthew's game, their player  knocked out our goalie by kicking her when she had the ball. When that didn't work he simply grabbed her jersey and threw her down. She's a tough one but being body slammed did, in fact, cause her to lose her grip on the ball. As she fell their player then stepped around her and kicked the now dropped ball into the goal. While the poor girl lay, prone on the field with our coach assessing her injuries, a little gaggle of parents from the other team mused, idly, "so do we get to keep that goal?" This is when I knew I was sitting on the sidelines with Satan's own soccer fans.

Meanwhile, another community was removed from the league a few years ago for "being too rough and playing dirty." To which I can only suggest that unless they brought guns and knives to the field, I find it hard to believe they were any rougher than this group.

During Kassie's game we were sitting near "Cody's" family. Cody's family, it should be noted, was very vocal. Now, hey, I love to cheer for the kids - mine and anyone else's - as much as the next soccer fan. I like a nice "good job Morgan, great hustle Nick, it's okay we'll get 'em the next time!" as much as the next person. I aim to cheer as much, if not more, for other people's kids because I know the little thrill of excitement when someone else is cheering for a kid. I am not, I promise, the Grinch that stole soccer fandom.

Then we come to  "Cody." Or shall I say "CODY! CODY! CODY! CODY! CODY! CODY! CODY!" screamed at top pitch ad nausea throughout the entire game. Seriously. "Go Cody! Get the ball CODY! Good job CODY! Get 'em CODY! You go CODY! GO CODY! GO CODY! GO CODY! GO!!!" Maybe I'm just jealous because Cody had about fifteen fans and every last one of them was bent on making sure that Cody - and people in the next county - knew they were there.

Of course, "Mercedes" parents were not to be outdone by Cody's fan base. So THEY started screaming "Go Mercedes, Run Mercedes!" etc. etc. What they lacked in repetition they more than made up for in volume.

Now, I am usually a fairly nice person and I pick on people my own age - not children. I also  have children named out of thin air and after a soap opera character, respectively, so I am hardly one to throw stones. However, after already being worn to a nub with "Cody,"-  "MERCEDES!" was just the icing on the cake.

It took all I had to keep me from leaping up and starting to randomly  yell my own cheers at non-existent players on OUR team. I was dying to start with "GO TOYOTA CORROLLA!" and "MOVE THAT BALL Malibu!"

Somehow I just knew, however, that when I started to cheer for "Toyota Prius" and "Ford Focus" the jig would most definitely be UP.

October 12, 2009

House (Blog) Warming!

Welcome!

If you followed me from the old link - thank you! If you are brand-new, thank you too!

Just a quick tour to kick off the visit. Along the right hand side you'll find links to my latest work in addition to many archives. A brief synopsis of who I am, what I do, and where I do it, in case you stumbled in here by mistake.

By popular request you'll also find a couple of quick photo albums showing the elusive, highly dangerous, but still fabulous Mr. Wonderful, The Small Wonders, and a few of the simple yet significant "little things" that make this house our home.

Hope you enjoy the visit and that you'll bookmark us and visit often (or subscribe to the blog feed down at the right).


October 10, 2009

Party on!

I love parties. I really do. My favorite are last-minute get togethers. I'm going to one tonight. No time to get all worked up "what will I wear?" "What will I take?"

Nope, I'll wear what I have on. Take what's handy. Hope to have a marvelous time. The best fun evah!

Now if I can just get through it without any photos of me with a lampshade on my head ending up on the internet, I'll be fine. Just fine ...

October 8, 2009

I Lettered in Duck and Cover

Y ou would think a veteran soccer mom would have better reflexes - or at the very least marginally cooler moves. You would be wrong.

One moment I was sitting court side at my daughter's soccer match, sipping a tasty french vanilla cappuccino. All was right with the world. The next, a soccer ball came flying off field right at my head.

Now, I may be bad at soccer but I ROCK at self-preservation.I instinctively put up my arm to shield my face. This was an excellent move - except for the fact that I was holding the cappuccino in that hand.  The ball hit my cup instead of my head, causing the lid to fly off with a mighty "crack!" and the cappuccino I was holding to drench me. It was a French Vanilla tsunami. People two seats down were hit in the back splash. The entire game came to a halt so the official could say "are you okay?!" while he struggled not to laugh. Mr. Wonderful, coaching from across the field, even gallantly pulled out his cel phone to call and check up on me - his poor drippy little wife. That would have been such a sweet gesture if he'd stopped laughing.


Welcome!

If you can read this then you found me. Thanks! I really appreciate your patience while we try to get settled in our new bloggy digs.