The busy season is upon me. I know, because it’s dark before 9:00 p.m. and the blistering hot temperatures are starting to run out of steam.
I’ve been in the crafty business for a while now, and I’m still not used to the fact that I have to be ahead of the busy season. That means thinking about Christmas in June. That means getting seasonal products out for sale at least six weeks before the season is actually here.
This year I’m sort of getting the hang of it. For instance, I’m going to be putting my Halloween bottle cap magnets in shops next week. That includes my Etsy shop. I’ll be listing them a little at a time throughout a couple of weeks. They’re really cute! Here’s a sample of what you’ll see:
Many of my holiday magnets are inspired by vintage post cards. Why not stop by the shop and check them out. If you’d like a bunch of them be sure to find the listing for six or twelve magnets of your choice and get a great deal.
Ever heard the phrase guilty pleasure? Of course you have. I’ll be you even have one or two. Lately I’ve been hearing about TV shows being a guilty pleasure, mostly those reality shows like Real Housewives or The Bachelor. To me there is nothing “real” about those types of shows and frankly I have no time for them. My guilty pleasure is on another channel.
Every Saturday at 6:00 p.m. I tune into MeTV to watch something even more unreal than reality TV ~ the original Batman series.
Don’t judge me.
Totally unreal but more hysterical than you could ever imagine. I remember watching Batman when I was a kid, but these days it’s even better because they show two episodes back-to-back. The first episode ends with a cliffhanger and the conclusion immediately follows. I don’t have to wait for a week to tune in “same Bat-time, same Bat-channel.” What’s better than that?
I’ll tell you what’s better. I offer some really fun Batman drink charms in my shop. And not that angsty, dark Batman you see on the big screen these days ~ it’s the totally schmaltzy Batman of ’60s TV. Because I love nostalgia.
Holy Merlot, Batman!
All of your favorites! Batman, Robin, Cat Woman, Joker, Penguin, & Riddler
It’s a little embarrassing to admit I spend Saturday nights with the Caped Crusaders. Maybe I’ve got a weird affinity for men in tights. Or a fascination with things like the Bat Computer, Bat Ropes, Bat Spray, and Bat Pills. Most likely I like to watch shows from my childhood and wonder how it is I turned out to be a functioning member of society growing up with such ridiculous influences.
The following post was written in my previous blog. I’m showing a rerun here because these are indeed hot summer days.
These are the hot summer days.
It doesn’t seem so long ago when summertime meant no homework, no responsibilities, and lots and lots of playing. My fair face would turn beet red with my vigorous play and my wispy white hair would curl into sweaty little ringlets. Summertime also meant frequent trips to Tug Lake in Wisconsin, home to Gram and Grampa.
It would be the end of the day, the sun in the western sky. Charlotte would still be swimming in Tug Lake like a minnow and Diggy was just a little toddler being passed around to the next adoring adult. I would always get cold and pruney from swimming too long so I would sit with the adults in the yard on the sticky, aqua blue, padded vinyl lawn furniture and drink a Fresca out of the bottle ~ that was back in the day when Fresca had real fruit peel bits floating in it. Then I would ask my grandma if I could listen to the stereo.
Being the doting grandma she was we’d go inside and she’d fire up the fancy console with my favorite record. She’d then return to the lakeside gathering outside, leaving me to what would turn into one of the most nostalgic memories of my life.
The sun reflected off the waves of the lake through the large windows of the house, throwing shimmering sparkles of light through the whole room. The indoor air felt warm to my lake-chilled body. I was probably eight or nine years old. I felt independent all alone away from the family, and yet I was embraced in a comfortable and safe environment. My choice of music every time was none other than Steve and Eydie, Real True Lovin’.
When I was a young teenager I would reminisce with Gram about those days when she would play the fancy stereo for me. I asked her with the most innocent of intentions, “when you die can I have your Steve and Eydie record?”
One day when I was well into my thirties Gram gave me the record. “Here you go, honey. You don’t have to wait until I die to have this.” She remembered, before she would inevitably be unable to.
When I sit in my rumpus room during warm summer evenings I see the flickering shadows of the trees cast along the floor and walls by the setting sun and am reminded of Tug Lake and the sparkly diamond waters of my childhood.
I still feel like that little girl when I hear this song, sometimes sadly longing for the carefreeness of childhood. Mostly I’m reminded that it was those carefree days, my fun and accommodating grandma, and Steve and Eydie at sunset that contributed to the person I am today. For all those things I’m grateful.
This Sunday many of us will be honoring mothers or being honored by children…or both! Hooray for mothers, for without them we would never have the quirky malfunctions of character that make us so loveable!
Oh you know I’m just kidding. And I know that the 1915 song M-O-T-H-E-R was written about moms exactly like mine.
“M” is for the million things she gave me
“O” means only that she’s growing old
“T” is for the tears she shed to save me
“H” is for her heart of purest gold
“E” is for her eyes, with love-light shining
“R” means right, and right she’ll always be
Put them all together and they spell MOTHER, a word that means the world to me.
~Howard Johnson
M-O-T-H-E-R Sheet Music Magnet can be purchased in my Etsy shop by clicking on the picture. You can also buy it (and many others) right here! Click on the Sheet Magnets tab at the top of the page and go from there.
Happy Mother’s Day to all of you who have given it everything you’ve got!
I remember years ago when I was in high school how my dad would be so disgusted at my homework practices. I usually had the stereo blaring (before the days of iPods) with records or radio. He was certain I wasn’t giving my school work the concentration it needed. I would laugh, of course, assuring him I could concentrate much better with my tunes.
Now that I’m older, older than my dad was when he lectured the importance of concentration and focus, I get it. It seems I’ve developed a sensitivity to noise with my increasing age, especially artifical noise (natural noises like birds chirping or babbling brooks don’t count). I don’t want to have music constantly streaming through my head. I don’t want to have the TV on as background noise. I go completely out of my mind with noises the building makes at my day job, and seriously, what’s with white noise? It’s incessant and annoying. I don’t mind hearing people talk to each other in person, but to have to hear someone talking on their cell phone makes me positively insane. Sometimes I think I’m as bad as The Grinch when he complains about Christmas in Whoville with all the “noise noise noise noise!”
I wonder what it would be like to live with Harpo Marx. He didn’t speak. Nice and quiet, with a few exceptions of course.
When I’m home alone I usually don’t turn on music or TV for company. I don’t sing or hum to myself. I just enjoy the quiet ~ the quiet I can’t find anywhere else unless I’m completely alone. The stillness is like a soft pillow, the silence like a downy quilt. It’s cozy. It’s quiet.
Of course this isn’t to say I don’t want anyone speaking to me, or amongst themselves. I wouldn’t enjoy a world completely void of noise. But every once in a while I’ll turn it all off, think of Harpo, and remember how silence is indeed golden.
Silence is Golden magnet ~ available in my shop. Just click on the picture.
Auntie B's Wax 