tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3676485842908324702024-02-07T04:44:13.138-07:00A day in the nest...There's art on this blog. Sometimes.Meg Wommackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236322307224414350noreply@blogger.comBlogger76125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367648584290832470.post-42387873409643848652009-05-22T18:23:00.001-06:002009-05-22T18:24:40.257-06:00I'm good...Everything seems to be quite fine--I did score 2 pictures of real...live...Receptionurses...who said i could blog about them! :)<br /><br />thanks everyone for your sweet words--<br />megMeg Wommackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236322307224414350noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367648584290832470.post-71023136833042226132009-05-19T08:17:00.002-06:002009-05-19T09:01:53.076-06:00Guess what I have?I have a lump. In my right breast. And blogging about it is a heck of a lot cheaper than therapy...<br /><br />And too--this is my hope, with this blog entry. I know that someone, somewhere, probably has a lump too--and you're afraid to check it out. You'd rather not know the answer...and believe me when I say, I do understand that fear. I often feel like an old wooden marionette that's been repaired and pinned together with duct tape and rubber bands... And there's always something new....always. But back to you:<br /><br /> Please get your lump checked. If<em> I</em> can, you can too--and I'll bet you <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0100395/"><strong>"all the mommy in world"</strong></a> that I have worse luck than you do, in the field of medicine!--you're going to be fine. :)<br /><br />I've known about Ms. Lump (as we'll call her) for a while--I wanted to enjoy and celebrate Maggie's 5<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">th</span> Birthday before I checked it out....and too, lumps change, throughout the month. So tomorrow, I take Ms. Lump & Mrs. Boob in, to a new doc., and we'll see what's what. And I must say--the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">receptionurse</span> was SO nice...but is she <em>always</em> nice? Or is it just because I said it: <strong>lump, </strong>when I made the appointment...maybe it was because my voice broke just a little bit, there at the end? <br /><br /><strong><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">receptionurse</span></strong>: And what do we need to see you for?<br /><strong>me</strong>: I have a....lump. A lump in my right breast.<br /><br />No one ever wants to say "lump" out loud. Never made my list of things to do, that's for darn certain...but, ah! My list of things to do...<br /><br />I found the lump via. self-examination (aren't I responsible?!) It was late...I found Ms. Lump...I went to bed (Joe was already asleep)--I turned on my reading lamp, opened my excellent book, and laid it over my breasts. Like a shield. It was so late--and Joe had to work so early--and I really, really, tried to let him sleep. But I couldn't. I turned to him and whispered:<br /><br />I have a lump.<br /><br />And then...I just laid there. And I thought of everything I haven't done--every memory I haven't made yet. Blessings, reunions, celebrations... I'm sure there's a song out there, somewhere in the world, that will be one of my favorite songs. I haven't heard it yet. I know there's an author I will adore that I haven't found yet--I think there's a pale grey dress, with a silk rose and matching cloche...it's beautiful. I haven't bought it yet, let alone worn it. There's a beach somewhere--and an ocean that curls over it, embraces it...I haven't walked along it yet. I haven't curled my toes into the sand or gathered sea glass and sea shells to give to my girls. And my girls! I'll have to stop there...<br /><br />Am I over-reacting? Probably. But at least I'm consistent. And honest. Tell me you haven't thought every one of those thoughts--personal to your life--when you found your Ms. Lump. I know that you did. It's just that I'm brave enough to write it down, to say it out loud. Because if there's anything left that I believe in--it's the power of honest words. Especially if they float a little courage your way.<br /><br />Make the call--<br />megMeg Wommackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236322307224414350noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367648584290832470.post-35602219146509752662009-05-08T08:39:00.017-06:002009-05-09T17:16:32.648-06:00A note for my daughters...<div><div><br /><div>...on Mother's Day. (and I suspect that some other Mothers, flesh and blood or heart-Mothers, may relate to my sentiments)<br /><br /><a href="http://www.thefreedictionary.com/mother"><strong>mother: 1. A woman who conceives, gives birth to, or raises and nurtures a c</a></strong><strong><a href="http://www.thefreedictionary.com/mother"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">hild</span>.</strong></a><br />"On" being "topic", versus the actual day... It's a lovely Friday morning. One of you is at school--one of you is asleep (of course!--who do you take after, I wonder?). I've thought of some things, over the past few months, that I have wanted to impart to you. Sometimes these thoughts occur when I am incredibly frustrated--sometimes they smack me in the noggin when I stumble across some drivel or another in a novel or a specific quote...<br /><br />Some too, are when I check on you, just before I finally go to sleep. I always go to sleep last, you know....and I think I just have to check on both of you, bless you, touch your hair and get close enough to feel your warm breath before I can sleep myself. (By the by, I might break my leg at two in the morning since Chloe's on the top bunk now! The checking, blessing, etc. is mighty hard to do when you're 4'11" and terribly <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">un-</span>coordinated.)<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Anywho</span>--here's some thoughts from me, your Mom, and a few things I want us all to remember as the years go by.<br /></div></div><br /><br /><br /><p>1--I will make, and have made, mistakes. You will too. When that happens, we<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP5U8bYzeMy7S5gug1nKQgSRlSaW7lq3dLFgJc_McRMK8yabefsmXEELggWGMh3N1efYcfSOsJqCLCM_-7QVkZAIbPqBjjhqPVxxm8h1z2-aEeytVAZNG4Qx6W1-yAfMXUxopJ839M6e1L/s1600-h/Christmas+2005+Chloe.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333470621187163186" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP5U8bYzeMy7S5gug1nKQgSRlSaW7lq3dLFgJc_McRMK8yabefsmXEELggWGMh3N1efYcfSOsJqCLCM_-7QVkZAIbPqBjjhqPVxxm8h1z2-aEeytVAZNG4Qx6W1-yAfMXUxopJ839M6e1L/s320/Christmas+2005+Chloe.jpg" border="0" /></a> can embrace forgiveness or embrace resentment. Please remember, you <em><strong>always</strong></em> have that choice in your life, no matter the person or situation.<br /></p><br /><br /><br /><p>2--To Chloe: I will never forget the evening that your pink poodle hooded sweatshirt saved your life. I don't know if there's been a worse moment, grabbing the 1/2" of fabric just in time to jerk you back from heavy traffic. When I suddenly hug you as if I'll never, ever, let go--I'm probably thinking of this moment. It was actually worse than when Magdalen decided to be a robot and covered her head in duct tape (I know that you two compete...so far, you have "the worst moment"....and Mags finally has eyebrows again, for the moment.) I cannot imagine what I would do without my daughter who has "shown me the angels."<br /></p><br /><br /><br /><p>3--To Magdalen: I am so <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">gla</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_vTDV7MgZAJkP7CIRBGpeSKg1f3_s2kb4Koavt1nKEJSoFnZ_x-Ul_EkVLmSzQrS3h6JiD8fHlh4IZ5_6AMxEQc2owmgco3ENfxlb0JdXhaYJy1Wro-PnKQYCJqrU97NiN4y_7jLBg89f/s1600-h/000_3871.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333469870208783442" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_vTDV7MgZAJkP7CIRBGpeSKg1f3_s2kb4Koavt1nKEJSoFnZ_x-Ul_EkVLmSzQrS3h6JiD8fHlh4IZ5_6AMxEQc2owmgco3ENfxlb0JdXhaYJy1Wro-PnKQYCJqrU97NiN4y_7jLBg89f/s320/000_3871.jpg" border="0" /></a>d we both lived through your birth--I inadvertently received our medical records in the mail when you were about a year old?....I had no idea how "lucky" we were. And yes, even when Dad's been away for 16+ hours, when I'm bone-tired and you're incredibly naughty--and unrepentant--...when you glue things to things, find duct tape, make "soup", steal your sister's stuff (where<strong> is</strong> her pink <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">ipod</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">missie</span>?!), when you steal my stuff, steal dad's stuff...when you cut things into absolute ribbons that you should not (like curtains, or your hair--who will forget the "half-a-mullet", spring 2008?!). I'm <strong><em>still</em></strong> glad we made it--for you <em>and</em> me. You keep my body and my heart agile, and alive, in so many ways.</p><br /><p>4--Be nice. And courteous. I'm not kidding here...the world would be a different place if we all woke up and thought--"Just for kicks...I think I'll be kind today."</p><div><br /><div>5--This is a good one--and it's been passed along, from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Gramma</span>. When you're tempted to gossip...which can sometimes "creep into" a conversation...run the words you're just longing to say through this "filter": <strong>Is it kind?</strong> (see #4) <strong>Is it true?</strong> (if it's not, then you're lying AND gossiping.) <strong>Is it necessary?</strong> (why do you have to say it? If the world can keep spinning without your saying "it", then you don't need to say "it".)<br /><br /><br /></div></div><p>6--The world will not stop spinning... Okay, it probably could, I suppose (though I myself think it will just blow up someday). If the world does stop spinning, you probably won't realize it--or you won't for very long. So, you've no excuse to not heed #5. I have to heed #5 as well.</p><br /><br /><p>7--I honestly don't <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ8Tal_yzMgCAg2NdEoTpPUAxbq9jVG72qtPifoJKVnSWdz5DGl_RZ5_wJUPMpjhAsYPwWmddgAzdEBm9y4E2ymoLl2xpKp9K8Q7ZCC_IwKfOZ9EIO5kdBv8KODMbkcTBcozyxHTraab9s/s1600-h/Chloe+in+her+hat.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333963224039167522" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ8Tal_yzMgCAg2NdEoTpPUAxbq9jVG72qtPifoJKVnSWdz5DGl_RZ5_wJUPMpjhAsYPwWmddgAzdEBm9y4E2ymoLl2xpKp9K8Q7ZCC_IwKfOZ9EIO5kdBv8KODMbkcTBcozyxHTraab9s/s320/Chloe+in+her+hat.jpg" border="0" /></a>care about your grades in school. Or, rather, there's a lot of things that are a bit of a "higher priority". Mark Twain said: "I have never let schooling interfere with my education." I whole-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">heartedly</span> embrace this notion of Mark's...I do care that you educate yourself...you'll never, ever, regret learning. But no, you don't have to pay anyone or visit a classroom to learn. However, should I find myself paying for you to visit a specific classroom, you'd darn well better go! (Just ask Papa.)</p><br /><p>8--Mark Twain is always right. I don't know why that is? It's almost creepy. Okay--it <em>is</em> creepy. But true. If you can't speak with me or your father directly, please consult Mr. Twain, with one exception--the legal age for drinking<strong> always</strong> trumps whatever Mr. Twain has to say on that topic. It's physiological, that age. (Yeah, yeah...I know you won't listen. But I had to say it. I'm your Mom.)<br /></p><p>9--Learn one thing everyday. Sometimes, your "lesson" will be intentional--something you specifically wished to learn. But you know what the most powerful lessons are? The ones that keep you up at night. Those aren't worries or heartaches or regrets, my sweet girls--those are lessons. And they're usually free.<br /></p><p>10--A "mother" in your life isn't always going to be <em>just me,</em> your Mo<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAQqXHEz7vnbVReJFwVD_C-p-nBdN0GTrMUqSBQ48XTiI-7UwysFJEviQcCadNxCTqb76UB8_Cxy0TX65P7kek6qlWYZkPBat3SG-NTijMX8uvi7W6-rFD9wtnTAGjB7C2X54WVvVxChIC/s1600-h/aunt+judy.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333478790610835362" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAQqXHEz7vnbVReJFwVD_C-p-nBdN0GTrMUqSBQ48XTiI-7UwysFJEviQcCadNxCTqb76UB8_Cxy0TX65P7kek6qlWYZkPBat3SG-NTijMX8uvi7W6-rFD9wtnTAGjB7C2X54WVvVxChIC/s320/aunt+judy.jpg" border="0" /></a>m (and I'll try to choke down my <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">jealousy</span>). Please keep your eyes peeled for other "mothers"...these are your "heart-mothers". I have 2 Aunts (yes, I still have Judy), 1 crazy friend in Ohio, and 1 dear, sweet, friend from years ago, 2 sponsors, 4 teachers--all are <strong>excellent</strong> mothers, and have mothered me, in addition to own Mom. All have taught me useful "lessons", most have held me while I sobbed (even over the phone), all have rescued me from myself when necessary, and all have celebrated joy and blessing with me...and too, some have held on tight when I refused to rescue myself. <em>That's</em> a mom for you!</p><br /><p>11--I really, of course, wish I did not have to even think about #11....but. Mistakes are, most often, like <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">dominoes</span>. At the very least they seem to come in pairs. However, a lot of times, certain mistakes can be avoided. And I'll tell you how to avoid some "biggies". Use a condom. Call for a ride. While, of course, I don't want to imagine you having to take either precaution...well. The world's a different place for you than it ever was for me--and it was still quite a world when I was a teenager. And too--you don't have to call <em>me</em> for a ride...remember you've kept your eyes peeled for those other "mothers"? If Grandpa Chapman can "be cool" when the cops bring someone home--in quite a state and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">wreaking</span> of booze--if Harold can manage that--can be kind and loving and concerned (and NOT die of a heart attack!), then surely I can too. Please keep in mind, even with the various modes of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">transportation</span> and precautions, you will still be in <strong>serious</strong> trouble.<br /></p><br /><p>12--Should you ever find yourself at a "place" in your life where it seems you have no personal dignity left, not one shred or pretense--you need to pay attention to that. And act upon it. Sadly, I--nor anyone else--will be able to "tell you" when you've reached that place without dignity.... I mean, sure I could tell you, but you won't give me any merit whatsoever in this "department of dignity". You'll have to figure that one out for yourself. <em>When you do, I am here.</em><br /></p><br /><br /><br /><p>13--Do you remember when we watched Coraline together? You two loved it...and of course, I did too. But I think it's the "scariest" movie I've ever seen. I can only hope <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCQtMw610FJsY5wB-CMknL9qvk6a8PLcolJvgj0C_J15pWyO-Lv4mcaid4UdLgc8UX-JwMhnSA6ojdVeGcIT6w-gKa_3mm7nnkEcYE0e-oCtnBhtmAq1peEvq4RZC60WJ_psg3ijyhgo2W/s1600-h/coraline.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333965821037328898" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCQtMw610FJsY5wB-CMknL9qvk6a8PLcolJvgj0C_J15pWyO-Lv4mcaid4UdLgc8UX-JwMhnSA6ojdVeGcIT6w-gKa_3mm7nnkEcYE0e-oCtnBhtmAq1peEvq4RZC60WJ_psg3ijyhgo2W/s320/coraline.jpg" border="0" /></a>that I know about all of the little "doors" in our home and in your lives (and some of them, I do)--I hope, that if you must enter them, you'll at least let me hold your hand and walk through with you? And don't always assume doors have keys. Some "doors" are funny that way, and they might even trick you a bit...you can lock a door behind you, sometimes, and have no idea you've done so. (Chloe, you will understand this especially as we spent about an hour+ on the front porch the other day....waiting for Dad and his keys....good "teaching moment", eh?)<br /></p><br /><p>14--I'm always right. Okay, okay...my heart is always right. So that's why you can't do a staggering variety of dangerous things, read the books that I do (Grandma doesn't like me reading them either!), watch whatever you want, browse the web, etc. etc. Yes, I know it stinks. Too bad. Too bad for you and your sweet little girl hearts and brains. i.e., you will not be able to read this blog entry (#11)--but someday you may, if you like.<br /></p><p>15--My High School speech coach gave me a little quote book when I graduated? (one of those "other mothers"...) She'd "marked" advice specifically for me...one of the highlighted <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">advisements</span>: Love someone who doesn't deserve it. This kind of goes back to #4...please, just "love". It's not something, "love" that is, that should remotely resemble a little scale with weights and numbers...ever. In example, there's not a number in this world that's big enough to describe how much I love you. See? I am always right.<br /></p><p>16--It's funny...when you were babies, I could just about "fix" anything that was wrong...except you couldn't really "tell me", specifically what some of your troubles were.... As you grow older, as you are able to talk--heaven knows!--you're able to "tell Mom all about it"...and I can still fix a few things--quite a few, really. But the older you grow, the less I can fix, yet the more I can <em>understand completely</em> what you need. I don't know why that is...seems unfair. But I will try, I promise you that. And when I'm not nearby to "fix"? Well--I'll try to make sure I've equipped you with the tools you need to remedy what ills of this life that you can.<br /></p><p>17--Be nice to your sister. Both of you. You do and will infuriate each other, compete, fight, love, and--finally--NEED each other. </p><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWXjJbg6LRpOSgqvUW5qjZx9Tu0vTLCSzEqGP3yz5TABofNUfkGylJWPSiSVFOHBQhziAACp4iVHcLItffjmyN9XBcWH8XZELWlEFsqB1gDa6PGGSOOINUilni7Wb-fFHxkUjW3kycLCMC/s1600-h/Maggie+and+Chloe.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333959303093932802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWXjJbg6LRpOSgqvUW5qjZx9Tu0vTLCSzEqGP3yz5TABofNUfkGylJWPSiSVFOHBQhziAACp4iVHcLItffjmyN9XBcWH8XZELWlEFsqB1gDa6PGGSOOINUilni7Wb-fFHxkUjW3kycLCMC/s320/Maggie+and+Chloe.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br /><p>18--This is all for now. You may read it when you're 22 (at least).</p><br /><br /><p>Love,<br />your mom<br />*************************************************************************<br /><br /><em>Since Chloe was born, I have kept an informal "mother's journal" of sorts...some of these thoughts are new, some are old...</em><br /></p><br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><em>I hope each of you has a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">loverly</span> Mother's Day, one way or another, and try to let just a few of you "mothers" know how they're cherished...</em><br /></p><br /><p align="center"><em>meg</em><br /></p><div><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333956962035088514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSopGMTTpj3L9jGw2thv1ePoxl8fM79RlbRDQRrUH7vdjCS-20B0nZBbDEBFMhmtTS9BlUwY7A0tx0iDyHWcbOUoCH_CQzCXYCshaIXIgtnVfiXVXXune5DZZUoizRcx_BxEUl_-rlJX8D/s320/000_4778.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div>Meg Wommackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236322307224414350noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367648584290832470.post-39964168171777515442009-05-05T10:47:00.001-06:002009-05-05T11:24:01.149-06:00Editing is for sissies...<div>I forgot something--I could have just added it, but we'll make up for 2 month's silence today...</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I did have...one...super....wicked....amazing....idea to make money. My sister and I were discussing all of the <a href="http://www.cafepress.com/">Twilight <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Paraphernalia</span></a> that has besieged Our Great Nation...like Edward T-shirts (personally, I want "I'm betting on Alice" or nothing, but that's just me).</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Now tell me, what good is Rob <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Pattinson's</span> face if you can't actually see it yourself?</div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsHXfXm-bfc5Lbldild2A9rbkHakMku4FPd7ZFMz3Cmvt6PgR8lSxwd4LcxGlgyE0Jvlaz7ejlzSc7GDHFHlUoNpcSuS_hrS5ZZw77cvH-reSQXO1tgFQhWy1hGmFaeTpIuIVfkRcMWcoL/s1600-h/edward+blog.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332383967879112034" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsHXfXm-bfc5Lbldild2A9rbkHakMku4FPd7ZFMz3Cmvt6PgR8lSxwd4LcxGlgyE0Jvlaz7ejlzSc7GDHFHlUoNpcSuS_hrS5ZZw77cvH-reSQXO1tgFQhWy1hGmFaeTpIuIVfkRcMWcoL/s400/edward+blog.bmp" border="0" /></a></div><div>I'm sure you <em>do</em> see--easily!--what I mean....</div><div> </div><div>So--you heard it here first--</div><div> </div><div>Shoes. With Edward's face on the toes...but--here's where it gets good--<strong><em>Edward's</em></strong> <strong><em> face is</em> facing<em> the shoe-wearer.</em></strong> Gazing up at you....with that intense, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">vampiric</span> yearning...his cold exterior belying and gently providing exquisite contrast to his incredibly warm heart.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div>I'm just saying.</div><div>You heard it here FIRST.</div><div>Maybe I should write teen fiction?</div><div> </div><div>Would that I were a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">snarky</span> image stealer(s) who's making a whopping on <a href="http://www.etsy.com/search_results.php?search_type=handmade&search_query=twilight">various venues</a> right now selling <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">bling</span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">bling</span> to Twilight Addicts (okay, maybe not....but they are making money!)</div><div> </div><div>What? What's that you say? No, no...I took that picture of Edward <em>myself</em>. Really...it was right after we'd had the most delightful brunch (he paid)...I was wearing my favorite flowered clogs...he let me drive the shiny <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Volvo</span>....then we went for a run and he played me the song he wrote for me. They're keeping that one in the movie.</div><div> </div><div>blessings,</div><div>meg</div><div> </div><div>PS--S., if you're reading this, and I know you are...you HAVE to admit that <em>my</em> on-film-vampire is hotter. And I really would let him bite me. (That's for K.)</div><div> </div><div>I was going to post some footage--irrefutable proof, if you will. <strong><a href="http://www.youtube.com/results?search_type=&search_query=twilight&aq=f">There's just too much to choose from</a></strong>...(and all of it -1 is illegal). And I will admit that the spoofs are hillarious.</div><div> </div>Meg Wommackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236322307224414350noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367648584290832470.post-9517354612765681892009-05-05T08:17:00.000-06:002009-05-05T12:03:40.532-06:00The Inevitable Need for Groceries...<p>may trump <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_unbearable_lightness_of_being"><strong>The Unbearable Lightness of Being</strong></a>. For the moment.</p><p>I'd no idea, until yesterday, that's it been nearly 8 weeks since I've blogged...so that faint sense of relief you've been experiencing? The reprieve you've had from quirky music and senseless ramblings? That beautiful silence? Over. Again, for the moment...</p><p>I've actually spent the last weeks deciding what I might want to do with my life. Like a job or something. This is what I came up with....</p><ul><li>a hospice chaplain</li><li>a hospice nurse</li><li>a nail tech., specifically for hospice patients, nursing homes, etc.</li><li>a teacher</li></ul><p>So the chaplain thing...I suppose if no one I know, personally, ends up in hospice I might be able to pull that off (after all, I did work as a medical assistant one summer while pursuing a degree in acting....). A hospice nurse? IVs and 16 hour shifts wouldn't really "work", I'm afraid. ( I HATE all that is intravenous with near phobic intensity...IVs...blood draws. Anything vein-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">ish</span>. I get grey...sweaty....sometimes I sing...). I did discover that if you drink a LOT of water right before-hand, the blood spurts out a bit quicker (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">yick</span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">yick</span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">yick</span>!!!!). But then of course, you still have all the sweaty-groaning-grey-singing with an incredible urge to pee...</p><p>Needle Lady: Miss <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Wommack</span>, are you okay?</p><p>Meg: (moaning and humming, head lolling on her sweaty neck....) Oh, fine....la-la-la...really fine...are you done yet?</p><p>Needle Lady: Almost. (we both know she's a liar. a freaking bad liar, at that.)</p><p>Meg: (between singing snatches of Hank William's "I'll Never Get Out of This World Alive")....(croak)...weather...two girls...(watery gasp)...are you almost done?</p><p>Why do they ask you questions during a time like this?! Yeah Needle Lady...I want to recount all that is dear and wonderful and beautiful about my life. Because, that's really the sort of thing I like to do before I moan, sweat, turn grey, pee my pants, pass out, and eventually die-die-<strong>DIE!</strong> We<em> both</em> know this is going to kill me. Why is it going to kill me? Have you seen that movie about the kids-who-<em>don't</em>-get-on-the-plane-that-blows-up and then the rest of the movie they're-all-dying-and-stuff because they've cheated-a-horrible-death? <strong>HAVE YOU?!</strong> No, I thought not...because, if you had read any of my charts, then you, Miss Needle Lady--or whatever you call yourself nowadays!--if you had <strong>read</strong>, then you would <strong>know</strong>, the clock is TICKING. <strong>TICKING!!!</strong> Ticking for me, personally--and this could darn well be the last <strong><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">TOCK</span></strong>, that's just my freaking luck. My destiny, if you will...</p><p><em>She passed away while getting a blood-draw...yes...very rare....the Needle Lady used a needle that was way too long and it stuck right through Meg's arm and into the electrical socket on the far wall...the Needle Lady was wearing <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Crocs</span>, of course, so she was not shocked....but Meg in her flowered clogs. Well. No, no...it's okay to say it. She never did wear sensible shoes...the most terrible part--that haunts me to this day--is that the tourniquet inexplicably popped off her arm and blinded her. She died, blind and electrocuted...and you know, her veins did blow up, there at the last--just after they'd been sucked up through the needle and squished back the wrong way. She'd always said that would happen, and I never did give that notion of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">her's</span> much credence... Ah, poor mite. Would that I had known...</em></p><p>(casual laughter) No, no, no...I don't <em>really</em> think all that. (she said, abashed and slightly <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">emberassed</span> at her deepest fears being displayed for all to see...).* ** (some college)</p><p>I watched a nail tech. appointment. It was mind-numbing, and apparently you have to be nice <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">allllll</span> day long. In person. Face to face. Creepy chemicals. There's hand contact. And I can't maintain, nor do I desire to maintain, "pretty" nails for any amount of time--in fact, I do believe it's been a solid sixteen+ years since my unfortunate first--and last--attempt at "nails". And I just don't think that would make a very good impression on my potential victims? It smacks of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">un</span>-trustworthiness. Like if I owned a restaurant and never ate there? Or a swimming instructor who can't [swim]. Then too, I kind of avoid make-up that's colored. (Yes, I know how that sounds...). <em>You</em> see an appropriate, subtle, shade of eyeshadow. <em>I</em> see a Crayola Box of 64--can't help it.</p><p>And the teaching thing...again, with the nice-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">ness</span>. Ah, well... The only idea I've had which I've actually considered is a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Master_Gardener"><strong>Master Gardener</strong></a> certification. Which is all volunteer work, which sort of defeats the purpose of the whole job quest.... Although, I must say, it would be completely expected for me to spend a lot of time doing something that adds no income whatsoever to my household (oh baby, don't say that!).</p><p>So a week or so ago? I decided to just go ahead and be an artist. Which leads to all sorts of questions...what to make, etc., blah-blah-blah.... Does a girl just ignore the economy and proceed? In truth, I really do miss dollies...but the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">dollie</span>-dreams in my noggin have grown wicked time-consuming and complex. The figurative is at that place--I know you know what I mean--where you grow, learn, get better, or scrap it altogether out of respect for the medium. If I'm "stuck" because I don't want to grow, that's one thing...but if it's simply because no one has money to buy art, that's not a good enough reason. In my book. (Book of Meg, Chapter 2) </p><p>I actually polled the living room last night--and I <em>so</em> wish I could remember what Chloe had to say about "what mom should make"! It was her wonderfully "usual" follow your heart speech. But hilarious, too. Ah, that girl... <em>She</em> wants me to make <a href="http://images.google.com/images?hl=en&q=felt+mascots&gbv=2&aq=f&oq="><strong>"felt mascots"</strong></a> from the Japanese craft book she got for her birthday. (I suspect her advice is not completely altruistic.)</p><p>So. I'm as excited as you are to see what the heck I come up with....and just for kicks, there's a poll. Because I've never had one on my blog...unless it's not there. Because every time I threaten a poll, I can't get it to "show up".</p><p>What I am sure of, what I am certain I have learned--the artist's non-creating cycle can be just as vital as the art itself. Though that sounds a bit nonsensical and psycho-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">babbley</span>, it's true... I know I gather everything--every moment, every image, every face, every song or poem or book...even a word--artists of any sort gather all of these trinkets of inspiration, every day, and store them away. Sometimes I feel I'm a <a href="http://images.google.com/images?gbv=2&hl=en&sa=1&q=peddler+doll&aq=f&oq="><strong>peddler doll</strong></a>--but <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">nothing's</span> for sale, aside from the results of my dream-hoarding. (okay...I'm certain I've lost Sherry at this point...."Nutmeg...it's wonderful...but how do you come up with this stuff?!..." And that's a comment pertaining to my work, and the drugs. Or lack thereof-- <em><strong>not</strong></em> Sherry.)</p><p>I'm seeing girls in masks with little wool caps...flowing hair...small hands that are still large enough to hold fast to what's important--elaborate costumes, aged and worn...unexpected patterns and forgotten colors...they might have pet ravens or cats or little poppets of their own? I think all of them are on some sort of journey...and they may "meet", intersect, as travelers will do.... There will be that tentative moment of inspection, the hopes of a million little-girl's-journey-hearts will hang in the balance of an unsettling universe; a world that is cold, palest grey, and fraught with existential angst...and then the cats will eat the birds? Stay tuned, if only for the blood-shed.</p><p>blessings,</p><p>meg</p><p>(the dream-hoarder)</p><p>*Joe might beg to differ a bit with this particular disclaimer...after plasmapheresis, multiple sclerosis, chemotherapy, two delieveries (ah, <em>that</em> was easy!--I got a prize at the end!)...one nasty cat bite, and--though I did not require medical attention--an incident involving a discarded croc which bounced the bathroom door into my head...it smacked my noggin so hard that there was a noise (so take your sensible shoes and sell stupid elsewhere). Well, after all that--he might have his own opinions. But he's not the most verbose fella (yes, that quality was attractive to me, for various reasons.)</p><p>**The Needle Lady will definately disagree with this passage--like I'm scared. Are you going to listen to the girl in the really cool shoes or The Lady With All of Those Needles in the Garfield scrubs? Yeah. That's what I thought. Oh, snap.</p><p>P.S....It occurs to me that some of my frequent-flier doctor's offices' actually read this blog. No...it's not you, I promise. The scrubs are a coincidence...an unfortunate, regrettable, coincidence...</p>Meg Wommackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236322307224414350noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367648584290832470.post-55065881077669847172009-03-11T09:13:00.000-06:002009-03-11T10:24:51.745-06:00Waking up...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9jm8n8lt1IsxOKlRpOeWJiziBNfsIw4So1A74v5Z8XcCaOoOEKq0Olruq5JYXKsxGI9ylSBudEbDshCU3_6fx6ILTRD5F7If4jmNSTCUbVwPcTIDeaSCN6rNyp58r6uIXkOQFixWpOGFD/s1600-h/100_1073.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311962402272640450" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 330px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9jm8n8lt1IsxOKlRpOeWJiziBNfsIw4So1A74v5Z8XcCaOoOEKq0Olruq5JYXKsxGI9ylSBudEbDshCU3_6fx6ILTRD5F7If4jmNSTCUbVwPcTIDeaSCN6rNyp58r6uIXkOQFixWpOGFD/s400/100_1073.jpg" border="0" /></a> Which is worse? To discover it's all been a dream...or to know, for certain, that everything is perfectly true?<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I remain, since the age of eight or so, thoroughly disgusted with this little tale's ending. "Just a dream"?! Oh, please...like I haven't heard that one before.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />At the same age~~about eight~~I had a little toy porcupine that would clip onto an edge of fabric with her little arms (do you remember those?)~~she "lived" on the edge of my bedroom curtain...and at night, lying in bed with the moon sifting through those curtains and making a land of shadows on my floor and bed covers~~at night, I swear to you that my little porcupine girl became a rather large spider. Black, grey, spiky...with glimmering eyes and huge fangs. You could never have convinced me otherwise.<br /><br /><p> </p><p> </p><br /><br />And after a few terrible nights, I began to trust that the spider would not bite me...in fact, she seemed to stand sentinel like a strange arachnid angel over my bed. Alice knows better. The ending of that book is to soothe worried grown-ups and placate stupid children (the sort that would rather watch a bit of nonsense on the television and have all of their ideas neatly presented and packaged for their convenience...).<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />But Alice knows, as do I, that there's a wonderland 'round every corner...<br /><br /><br /><br />...hatters, chessie cats, queens, and guardian spiders...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:180%;">Gentle reader</span>,<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p align="right"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwsfc-f0mzv9l7sgaxGz_xln2yhQ2qpOTTyZ2g-ztsBk9Zz-e-h2M_0oTiPPZ9wpU3OTAMDuT0A4SOee3behgX1YwHxtr7E-91cUhY_YXn7jcUKBRwTzOvjT-ZyB8vi5mh5drxCA3eiAx_/s1600-h/100_1074.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311962747642573266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 336px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwsfc-f0mzv9l7sgaxGz_xln2yhQ2qpOTTyZ2g-ztsBk9Zz-e-h2M_0oTiPPZ9wpU3OTAMDuT0A4SOee3behgX1YwHxtr7E-91cUhY_YXn7jcUKBRwTzOvjT-ZyB8vi5mh5drxCA3eiAx_/s400/100_1074.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">it's </span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />all<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">quite </span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">true.</span><br /><br /><br /><br />Megan Wommack ©2009<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Alice is available at <a href="http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=21743772">The Paper Poppet</a> and on <a href="http://cgi.ebay.com/NEW-cheshire-cat-ALICE-IN-WONDERLAND-paper-doll-blestb_W0QQitemZ150330729263QQihZ005QQcategoryZ158655QQssPageNameZWDVWQQrdZ1QQcmdZViewItem">eBay</a>.<br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center">*******************************************************</div><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisSmjxgi7PWoVFyyzhhUmx1UyzCXRxG9b6Y65y92oBxvqUQTDlFP0rOYH09uQIgfiqhrC_TEpSjYkR_7i5UPMWUFcID1z89YvDetYgvpML6T5QARA_zjjVhNihpPIG5jZEeST2w1n9vR5K/s1600-h/100_1076.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311962663015385154" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 328px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisSmjxgi7PWoVFyyzhhUmx1UyzCXRxG9b6Y65y92oBxvqUQTDlFP0rOYH09uQIgfiqhrC_TEpSjYkR_7i5UPMWUFcID1z89YvDetYgvpML6T5QARA_zjjVhNihpPIG5jZEeST2w1n9vR5K/s400/100_1076.jpg" border="0" /></a>This piece has, once again, presented the usual "art & life dilemma"~~chickens & eggs, which first? And how very, very, much I feel like Alice! Eat the cake...surely cake is <em>always</em> good? But no...then you're a mile high, full of cake, and so very far away from the earth...and quite a lot of other things (and people!) that matter.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center">So... a remedy. Drink from the bottle (after all, the bottle <em>says</em> to drink.) And then you find that you're so impossibly tiny...so lost in the vast, huge, earth that you longed to return to....so "vanished". And all you've done is follow the instrutions: "eat me". You've read the label: "drink me". Then to discover yourself!~~ tiny and small~~with a small part of your heart remaining in the lofty clouds. </div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center">As much as I despise the "oh, it's alllll been a dream!" easy-out-ending...it is a relief to <em>wake up</em>. To stretch and embrace. To rest and work. To sleep...perchance, to NOT dream! To eat and listen and love... To discover wonderland~~with all of it's solutions, magic, and voodoo~~is not always the best place to be. I'd rather be ill and imperfect....no red queens or hatters, no chessie cats. I'll spare you all the details of <a href="http://magpiefeathers.blogspot.com/2007/05/victoria-williams-has-ms-and-i-have.html">my usual medical quandries</a>...suffice it to say, the past few months have been completely horrid. And horrid is sooooo horrid when you expect horridity(?). </div><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><br /><div align="center">And all because I <em>did</em> follow the directions, read the labels, eat me, drink me....the resulting misery has done absolutely nothing to quash my <em>massive</em> authority problem. It's fanned the flames. And given me so many ideas--</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center">My next treatment? I do believe I'm going to implement my own therapy program--Meg's Alternative Medicine, "MAM" for short (I'll have the site up shortly). </div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center">Twice daily, I shall sting myself with bees and apply a poultice of chicken poo thereafter. I will meditate upon my personal wellness while <strong>not</strong> listening to Yanni or Kitaro. I will avoid reading Slyvia Plath excepting the third tuesday of each even-numbered month, and on those particular tuesdays, I will only read the seventh line of each poem. Wearing my 3D glasses from Coraline.(There's no way I was going to re-cycle those after the money-grubbing ticket price. Let alone the gouging that goes on at the candy counters. You're worried about gas prices? I'm alarmed at the fee I'm charged for a HUGE half-empty box of junior mints!!!). Candy at the movies? "Civil Disobedience". I'm just sayin'....<br /><br /></div><br /><br /><div align="center">Finally, I <strong>will </strong>read "The Godmother" every day:</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><em>"...I give her sadness,</em><br /></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><em>And the gift of pain,</em><br /></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><em>The new-moon madness,</em><br /><em>And the love of rain..."</em></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><em>Dorothy Parker</em></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><em></em></div><br /><br /><div align="left"><strong>NOTE: </strong>Should you be seeking an alternative cure for multiple sclerosis please be advised that MAM is in clinical trials here in the US, though there's a rumor that everyone's doing it in Canada. So in other words, don't take me too seriously. <em>I</em> take <em>myself</em> seriously enough for the both of us.</div><br /><br /><div align="left"></div><br /><br /><div align="left">Blessings,</div><br /><br /><div align="left">Meg</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">PS~~a riddle for you...not a hard one...do you "see it"?</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">A boat, beneath a sunny sky</div><div align="left">Lingering onward dreamily</div><div align="left">In an evening of July -</div><div align="left">Children three that nestle near,</div><div align="left">Eager eye and willing ear,</div><div align="left">Pleased a simple tale to hear -</div><div align="left">Long has paled that sunny sky:</div><div align="left">Echoes fade and memories die:</div><div align="left">Autumn frosts have slain July.</div><div align="left">Still she haunts me, phantomwise,</div><div align="left">Alice moving under skies</div><div align="left">Never seen by waking eyes.</div><div align="left">Children yet, the tale to hear,</div><div align="left">Eager eye and willing ear,</div><div align="left">Lovingly shall nestle near.</div><div align="left">In a Wonderland they lie,</div><div align="left">Dreaming as the days go by,</div><div align="left">Dreaming as the summers die:</div><div align="left">Ever drifting down the stream -Lingering in the golden gleam -</div><div align="left">Life, what is it but a dream?</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lewis_Carroll">Lewis Carroll </a>wrote this about the "real" Alice...</div>Meg Wommackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236322307224414350noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367648584290832470.post-11828874533191525512009-02-27T14:34:00.000-07:002009-02-27T14:42:58.273-07:00i know the words....<div align="center">"Hope is the thing with feathers,</div><div align="center"> That perches in the soul, </div><div align="center">And sings the tune--without the words, </div><div align="center">And never stops at all..."</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Emily</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Dickinson</span></div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">°º©©º°¨¨¨¨¨¨°º©©º°¨¨¨¨°º©©º°¨¨¨¨¨°º©©º°</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"><em>Just for today...i feel like i know the words to Miss <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Emily's</span> tune...</em></div><div align="center"><em>nest~~<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">joe</span>~~<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">maggie</span>~~<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">chloe</span>~~remission~~friends~~family~~hope, indeed....</em></div><div align="center"><em></em> </div><div align="center"><em>°º©©º°¨¨¨¨¨¨°º©©º°¨¨¨¨°º©©º°¨¨¨¨¨°º©©º°</em></div><div align="center"><em>I feel a bit like Alice...waking up from a strange dream~~but awakening to blessings and beginnings with a heart full of gratitude! For my wonderful family...the best customers in the world...and dear, sweet, friends...</em></div><div align="center"><em></em> </div><div align="center"><em>You'll get to meet Alice soon. :)</em></div><div align="center"><em></em> </div><div align="left"><em>Blessings,</em></div><div align="left"><em>Meg</em></div>Meg Wommackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236322307224414350noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367648584290832470.post-54303543968186413202009-02-15T12:36:00.001-07:002009-02-15T13:57:15.132-07:00Mornings with Maggie....<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIzSGPJZfEJ0PShfVrjYh8qgNsvYnT8qQMJmu9KlbjQzd2V4oFIHYMARNnHSoYM743LhZgm2KtEQqryASyxz3lNekBf8ywsZ7kV11Z5YFr2y4DYct4aqURjSVoWbucrVcYiDYOYXKLGaiZ/s1600-h/100_0170.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303110613606254290" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 393px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIzSGPJZfEJ0PShfVrjYh8qgNsvYnT8qQMJmu9KlbjQzd2V4oFIHYMARNnHSoYM743LhZgm2KtEQqryASyxz3lNekBf8ywsZ7kV11Z5YFr2y4DYct4aqURjSVoWbucrVcYiDYOYXKLGaiZ/s400/100_0170.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>This is Maggie...she's four. Her "best <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">powell</span>" (pal) is her big sister Chloe, whether she admits it or not!--and Chloe is a studious seven and goes to school (willingly...can you imagine?!) And so, Maggie and Mama are left to each other quite an awful lot. Dad's at work, Chloe's at school...life gets dull.</div><div> </div><div>The other morning I was treating myself to the end of a "gripping" novel. (It actually wasn't very gripping...it was, rather, so poorly written that I was hard pressed to keep track of the characters--but, nevertheless, I did want to know <em>who-done-it</em>.) Of course, all of you parents know that the more you'd <em>like</em> to ________ (fill in the blank) the less of a chance you have of getting _________ done. Children smell fear, weakness, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">embarrassing</span> topics, and a parent's yearning to ________ , as much as they can smell warm cookies or broccoli. It's just a fact. And it's almost creepy, their senses are <em>that</em> fine-tuned. So, I guess Mags smelled me wanting to finish my book. Because it became desperately important that I play with her--specifically, to play "Doctor".</div><div> </div><div>Now, I've been well aware of the thriving veterinary practice/doll hospital here in our home. How could I not be? The countless throngs of stuffed animals and dollies line every viable surface in our living room when the office is open...</div><div> </div><div>I didn't realize they'd opened up the practice to humans as well--beginning last Wednesday, to be precise. But I was feeling <em>well</em>, thank you very much, and had no need of Maggie's services. I didn't want to play Doctor. I wanted to read my book. But here's the thing--</div><div> </div><div>Dick Cheney could learn a lot about torturing prisoners if he just spoke to Maggie <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Wommack</span>. Seriously. She never touches you, never withholds food or water--you're allowed to use the bathroom (because she just follows you right in)...she has a very humane, very effective, method of torturing her prisoners. She whines. She hints. She sometimes screams. She wails, she gnashes her teeth. She persists. She's relentless. And then? She wins. Almost always. In under five minutes, Maggie could have signed confessions from the most terrible of terrorists.</div><div> </div><div>So fine. I'll play Doctor. But of course, I can't just, you know, go check in and be seen for whatever she's decided ails me (but I <em>can</em> tell <em>you</em> what ails me....<strong>Children</strong>. That's all that's wrong with me. Specifically, the four year old.) No, no. I can't just relent and get my shot. I have to find her a clip-board. And a pen. And paper, of course. (And at this point, it's very clear that my morning is turning into a depressing version of "<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/If_You_Give_a_Mouse_a_Cookie">If You Give A Mouse A Cookie</a>".) </div><div> </div><div>So we find the clip-board. And the paper. And the pen. (We're about 15 minutes into the whole thing, at this point, between the whining and the finding.) Then Maggie sits on the couch, and I go sit down in my chair...and, since I'm in the "waiting room", I get to read my book. Maggie spends some time talking to other "people" that are in her practice that morning...she seems to be a cross between a receptionist and a clip-board nurse. A <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">receptionurse</span>, if you will. And I must admit--she's a bit more engrossing than my not-very-well-written book. </div><div> </div><div>Not only is Maggie a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">receptionurse</span>--she's a <em><strong>mean</strong></em> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">receptionurse</span>. I know you know the kind--brusque and blunt, the brightly colored, whimsical patterned, scrubs belying the cold-hearted malice that glitters in the nurse's eyes...eyes that are slightly shadowed by a mighty lot of bangs sprayed into an unnatural formation on the crown of said <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">receptionurse's</span> noggin. Mean as a baby snake and twice as venomous.... I'm, frankly, a little amazed at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Receptionurse</span> Maggie's mean-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">ness</span>. Our <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">pediatrician's</span> office is great, my <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">neurologist</span> has thee sweetest staff...I'm baffled. When did she meet a nurse like this? </div><div> </div><div><em>And just a note~~I once "dumped" my favorite <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">OBGYN</span> in the world, because she'd moved to another town and I had to call and get set up as a new patient. I only spoke to the nurse/receptionist on the phone (yes, I'm well aware that they're probably not lumped together that way in title. Just roll with it--I only have "some college")...I never braved an actual face-to-face encounter with that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Receptionurse</span>. The lady was so <strong>MEAN!!!</strong> Like I was some irresponsible girl who went out for a wild weekend and got myself a case of the uterus. Like I'd caught a cervix from using a public restroom without a little tissue donut-shaped seat-cover. Like only women of ill repute have <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">vaginas</span>. I felt like asking if I could just send my cervix over in a taxi so we'd never have to meet--I'd send my $15 co-pay along with my cervix, of course. Or could we just do this annual pap thing over the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Internet</span>? Whoops. I digressed, didn't I?</em></div><div><em></em> </div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Anywho</span>. Back to last Wednesday. We're 20 minutes into this game of "Doctor"...and mean Maggie is ruling the office with her iron clip-board. And I'm, happily, once again immersed in my not-so-well-written book. Thankfully, the heroine survived the crash--even though I had to go find Maggie's props...what a brave & resilient spirit my heroine has! She <em>didn't </em>die in the ravine while I was away....</div><div> </div><div>Finally, it's my turn. </div><div> </div><div>Maggie the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Receptionurse</span>: <strong><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Wommack</span>? Megan <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Wommack</span> for Doctor <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Hottenflooperspoop</span>?</strong> (or something along those lines...you work "poop" in whenever you can when you're 4.)</div><div> </div><div>Megan the Patient: (<em>sighs and places <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">un</span>-finished not-so-well-written book on arm of chair, crosses stage L. with resignation</em>) <strong>Yes, I'm Megan.</strong></div><div> </div><div>Maggie the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">Receptionurse</span>: <strong>Oh.</strong> (<em>looks askance</em>) <strong>I'm sorry. We're closed today.</strong></div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong>?</strong></div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong>???</strong></div><div><strong></strong> </div><div>Can a four-year-old really be <em>that</em> passive-<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">aggressive</span>? Did she plan it--and at what point did she begin to plan? When did she decide the practice was closed? Before she called my name? Shortly thereafter, as I walked the less-than-five feet to the couch? I don't know. But Maggie the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">Receptionurse</span> is <em>wicked</em> mean. And she doesn't even have "some college". I rescheduled. At her convenience.</div><div> </div><div>blessings,</div><div>meg</div><br /><div></div>Meg Wommackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236322307224414350noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367648584290832470.post-5405857804160962812009-01-30T17:36:00.000-07:002009-02-02T09:21:14.120-07:00the business of art....and a puzzleyikes! i am simply frantic...sort of...i don't really have enough energy to be truly frantic. :) blogs are a wonderful, beautiful, thing...but keeping up with posts, visiting other folk's digs, replying to comments. and now, of course, there's the whole new <a href="http://www.facebook.com/home.php#/home.php?ref=logo"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">friending</span>-networking-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">facebooking</span> </a>madness... all <em>wonderful</em>, but mighty time-consuming. how does a girl manage?! to top it all off, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">comcast</span> changed their entire email format/system thingy on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">sunday</span>--i can't seem to use my address book, write an email (unless it's a reply)--it's horribly inconveniencing!! and the last thing i needed to add to the stress of keeping up with orders, shipping, and general customer service. (sigh) <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">i've</span> no idea if <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">i'll</span> be able to do a newsletter with my current email address!!<br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center">¨¨¨°º©©º°¨¨¨¨¨¨°º©©º°¨¨¨¨°º©©º°¨¨¨¨¨°º©©º°¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨°º©©º°¨¨¨¨</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">in addition to the logistics of their only being 24 hours in a day, and the horror of my new inbox...there's also this creative niggling going on in my noggin...<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">i've</span> long suspected that one point all of my mediums would "crash"...would make a merry little wreck of arty goodness...and it <em>feels</em> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">sooooo</span> close!~~but it's just not here yet. (sigh) and i know it's always worth the wait....but i <strong>HATE</strong> to wait!!<br /><br />it's 3D. buy it's also cloth...and my new poppets are surely a part--<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">i'm</span> painting on little chunks of wood, but <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">i'm</span> not sure i like what <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">i'm</span> coming up with...<br /><strong><img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y109/megwom/100_1006.jpg" /><strong><br />is it just me, of does she look a little under-impressed? :)</div></strong></strong><div align="center">¨¨¨°º©©º°¨¨¨¨¨¨°º©©º°¨¨¨¨°º©©º°¨¨¨¨¨°º©©º°¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨°º©©º°¨¨¨¨</div><br />so what does this new "it" look like???? (except i can't see "it")<br />i think there's some embroidery, and maybe a bit of clay...and all of these different elements lead me to believe "it" is some sort of scene...but WHAT sort?! <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">arrrrgh</span>!!!! and stranger still, "it" might be a bit "goth". what?! is this me??? a dark sweetness...a bit creepy...good heavens!<br /><br />i do know that so many of you have written or commented that you miss my cloth dollies, that i used to offer on such a regular basis...<br /><p align="left">i should let you know, i suppose, that i miss them too!! <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">LOL</span>...it just began to feel as if i was a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">dollie</span> machine...it's so important to me, even if it's just a wee poppet, that my work is "honest"--not lost in trend and artifice.</p><p align="center"><img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y109/megwom/dolls/NoOtherCameo.jpg" /></p><p align="center"><br /><br />¨¨¨°º©©º°¨¨¨¨¨¨°º©©º°¨¨¨¨°º©©º°¨¨¨¨¨°º©©º°¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨°º©©º°¨¨¨¨</p><br />anyway. do you struggle with these same woes, gentle reader? how do you organize? how do you cope? how do you unlock the elusive work-to-be from a busy artist's heart?<br /><br />signed,<br />a completely nutty-meg<br /><br /><br /><br /><strong></strong><strong></strong><br /><br /><strong><strong></strong></strong>Meg Wommackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236322307224414350noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367648584290832470.post-71964960492782293232009-01-17T10:20:00.000-07:002009-01-17T10:37:13.609-07:00*Izannah Little Red*<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA9cmKLHIxBv3FANBKipy_Gzpq9X93dDeBHqiCEZpvoTUvRLrrTS9lwhukE1SCwX5oHh8mIzZ2WBvm0d89G3mWKMFyjblA2jtuxbrawl-liyueFzx9v_Rb9xzhwYXwq54TQG4O6_f4V90d/s1600-h/izannah+little+red+paper+doll.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292314351776494850" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 263px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA9cmKLHIxBv3FANBKipy_Gzpq9X93dDeBHqiCEZpvoTUvRLrrTS9lwhukE1SCwX5oHh8mIzZ2WBvm0d89G3mWKMFyjblA2jtuxbrawl-liyueFzx9v_Rb9xzhwYXwq54TQG4O6_f4V90d/s400/izannah+little+red+paper+doll.jpg" border="0" /></a> There are many, many, interpretations of this little fairy tale~~what do the woods symbolize? The wolf? Why is the little girl wearing red? A quick bit of research will reveal all you ever wanted to know~~and more~~about<br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:78%;">°º©©º°¨¨¨¨¨¨°º©©º°¨¨¨¨°º©©º° </span><br />Little Red Riding Hood...</div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:78%;">°º©©º°¨¨¨¨¨¨°º©©º°¨¨¨¨°º©©º°</span><br /><br /></div><div align="center">To be honest, I usually enjoy "the annotated version". But not so with this classic tale. I prefer, in this instance, to take away my own impressions...my own thoughts. </div><br /><div align="center">The woods can be unsettling when you're all alone...terrifying when you're not alone. Critics and literary scholars return again and again to the childhood fear of "being devoured"~~a much more realistic fear in early 1800s Germany where Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm published a series of stories collected from peasants and villagers...Grimm's Fairy Tales. All of these tales have a "moral", or lesson, to teach their audience (children). It was a very good thing to be afraid of wolves<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSewlnPyoDxaOgcyZjAcYk6TlSyndk4gD9T8Bt6S-7i3tTR3xS1-AKVCP-LFXD9foApxw08sBeWd11YthLxJvys47vK1-xSnGmpGseN31j2CpGBeCWTHBf-q5J0gLNwRukG_nDx3I_7O67/s1600-h/izannah+little+red+skirt+detail.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292315144693811186" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSewlnPyoDxaOgcyZjAcYk6TlSyndk4gD9T8Bt6S-7i3tTR3xS1-AKVCP-LFXD9foApxw08sBeWd11YthLxJvys47vK1-xSnGmpGseN31j2CpGBeCWTHBf-q5J0gLNwRukG_nDx3I_7O67/s400/izannah+little+red+skirt+detail.jpg" border="0" /></a> if you were a child who lived in the scantly populated countryside and often~~or seldom~~ walked alone in the forest!<br />Little Red Riding Hood remains universally popular, even being used for political propaganda upon occasion, throughout history. While the psychological elements and symbolism within the story can be a bit overwhelming, the tale has certainly been utilized for many different purposes~~probably because of all of the "layers" and psychological suppositions...<br />So what is my personal connection? </div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">¨¨¨°º©©º°¨¨¨¨¨¨°º©©º°¨¨¨¨°º©©º°¨¨¨¨¨°º©©º°¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨°º©©º°¨¨¨¨</span></div><br /><br /><div align="center">A memory...of walking alone, in the woods. Leaves that crunch and twigs that snap...being so deep into the thick oak trees that a sunny afternoon seems just a few moments before nightfall, the light is so dim and hazy. Knowing that you ought to be completely alone~~aside from harmless deer and perhaps a stray songbird...knowing that you should be, by all reason, alone. But that you are not. And then imagining, planning, rehearsing...<br />what you will say to the wolf.<br />©2009 Megan Wommack</div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">¨¨¨°º©©º°¨¨¨¨¨¨°º©©º°¨¨¨¨°º©©º°¨¨¨¨¨°º©©º°¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨°º©©º°¨¨¨¨</span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><em>This latest paper poppet is available in <a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=6661751">my etsy shoppe</a>,</em></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><em>or <a href="http://cgi.ebay.com/Izannah-Walker-LITTLE-RED-RIDING-HOOD-paper-doll-blestb_W0QQitemZ150321541978QQihZ005QQcategoryZ158655QQssPageNameZWDVWQQrdZ1QQcmdZViewItem">on eBay</a>~~</em></div>Meg Wommackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236322307224414350noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367648584290832470.post-45347663886529581042009-01-14T11:42:00.000-07:002009-01-14T16:35:02.189-07:00twilight<div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAonR0iKwC-g9fDmeQUNMOdnCCceGS0d-Ti6mchScJ-Tj7wn8IRnMx19tsWnyxf7xJ1_mIuYytRWl7LP5Xxu8aegMT3L-oLoQ1g2tXEY6CZQ8PCtijmF-muv0X_VrInzWFAHrrPOObkkmf/s1600-h/twilightcover.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291272607694137058" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAonR0iKwC-g9fDmeQUNMOdnCCceGS0d-Ti6mchScJ-Tj7wn8IRnMx19tsWnyxf7xJ1_mIuYytRWl7LP5Xxu8aegMT3L-oLoQ1g2tXEY6CZQ8PCtijmF-muv0X_VrInzWFAHrrPOObkkmf/s320/twilightcover.jpg" border="0" /></a> Okay...I admit it. I'm a book-snob. (But I am NOT an art snob!!)...and, to be quite frank, I've been known to watch all manner of drivel on the glass <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">teat*</span> while I'm working. We were in Barnes Noble to get loot with our Christmas money and gift cards and I saw <a href="http://www.stepheniemeyer.com/twilight.html">Twilight</a> (which is <em>everywhere</em>!)--I had the book in hand and listened to some young women in front of me talking about it. It's teen fiction. I put the book back. (snob!)<br /><br /><div align="center">But then, more and more, I began to hear of reasonable, smart, interesting, people reading and talking about The Twilight Saga. And though the name in itself may imply something along the lines of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flowers_in_the_Attic">Flowers in the Attic</a>, I assure you, gentle reader...it is <em>not</em> something along those lines!! In a word, <a href="http://www.stepheniemeyer.com/bio.html">Stephanie Meyers</a> is a brilliant writer. Of course, I enjoyed her stay-at-home-mom how-did-you-ever-do-something-like-this!? story <a href="http://www.stepheniemeyer.com/index.html">on her site</a>--that's always "nice to hear" when stay-at-home mamas prove their talents and skills....but. Ms. Meyers is a brilliant author!<br /></div><div align="center">*****************************************<br /></div><div align="center">I noted--and if you read it perhaps you'll note as well?--that Bella (main <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">character</span></span>) is never completely "described" to the reader. Sort of. She can turn in to whatever the reader wants, or so it seemed to me. Which was a bit of a struggle for me...<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">I'm</span> really well past the teen-age years!...and i couldn't imagine my daughter falling in love with a vampire! (She's 7. And, well, I should hope she'll meet a nice boy without fangs...). It seemed a transient characterization--Bella can be "any girl" who's reading the book. Which is a darn good thing for teen fiction! (and certainly didn't "lessen" my experience...)</div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:78%;">by the way please remember that i have scars on my brain and if the book does thoroughly describe Bella and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">i'm</span> dead wrong don't send me any plastic vampire teeth or leave a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">snarky</span> comment. thanks. :)</span></div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center">I got the book Saturday afternoon and instantly devoured it (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">heh</span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">heh</span>). I was reading the part where the vampires play baseball as my husband and I were travelling Sunday afternoon, and it was so cool!, I read it to Joe as we were driving...now we're going to read Twilight aloud together. <em>(We did that with the first Harry Potter books....how sweet, huh? Why did we ever stop reading to each other??? We haven't done that in, like, 6 years! Why would we--oh, right. Chloe's 7. We had kids.)</em></div><br /><div align="center">So then, Monday, I traded in some stuff to get <a href="http://www.stepheniemeyer.com/newmoon.html">New Moon</a>, the second book. And, um, yeah. I really <em>don't</em> have time for all of this reading!--However, at present I can <em>count on</em> at least one or two out-of-commission days... I'm going to send Ms. Meyers some roses! </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">I will say too, after finishing the second book (no, it's not like an addiction. I read fast. really. i did those classes where they have the little <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">rolly</span>-machines and questions at the end and....okay. I admit it. I really need to do some laundry. And I need to clean---wait! enough about <em>me</em>, let's keep going with my book review....).</div><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKnjXp-VDTPyzDmkIz3WD898fSy7BhFcXOcY5SuSHn3qYp84IKh4X4f8ECOx0mzDA6-scNU9uJ22xRnKIkSouMzScGX5qocHKYRLEyaDILSTUHoYHAcjvgS4qT3RggJ2XQTEjS2bDpzheR/s1600-h/newmooncover.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291295447622351842" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 224px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKnjXp-VDTPyzDmkIz3WD898fSy7BhFcXOcY5SuSHn3qYp84IKh4X4f8ECOx0mzDA6-scNU9uJ22xRnKIkSouMzScGX5qocHKYRLEyaDILSTUHoYHAcjvgS4qT3RggJ2XQTEjS2bDpzheR/s320/newmooncover.jpg" border="0" /></a> Alright. Second book. New Moon. Meyers totally avoids the usual ennui and angst of the vampire <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">quandary~~the whole damnation conundrum, if you will</span>. I mean, sure-sure (inside joke), there's some of that...all vampires everywhere could be, quite possibly, darned to heck. Or maybe they're in heck <em>now</em>??? <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">hmmmmmm</span>.............. But, so far, The Twilight Saga doesn't "do" that. There's action, not too much violence, not any "language", and a sweet, beautiful, love story (no sex)....I'm doing that whole parent-rating thing, aren't I? </div><br /><div align="left">The first song on my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">playlist</span> is "Bella's <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Lullaby</span>"... But I can't tell you anymore than that. Go read the book! And yes, I hope to see <a href="http://twilightthemovie.com/">the film</a> soon.... </div><div align="left">It seems to be very well done (<a href="http://www.youtube.com/officialtwilightfilm">clips are here</a>!<br /></div><div align="left">If you've read it, tell me what you thought!!</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">blessings,</div><div align="left">meg<br /><br /></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:78%;">*Stephen King refers to Television as "the glass teat" in On Writing. I think. Again...the scars...</span></div></div></div>Meg Wommackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236322307224414350noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367648584290832470.post-47901141667140540762009-01-08T11:05:00.000-07:002009-01-17T10:36:54.468-07:00*The Paper Poppet*<div>In a questionable attempt to become more p-r-o-<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">fessional</span>, I have opened up a second <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">etsy</span> shoppe, *The Paper Poppet* (<a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=6661751">it's right here, if you'd care to visit!)</a> </span></div><br /><br /><div><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected">This location will carry all of the paper dollies, note cards, prints...and hopefully, some little theatres & small *scenes* of some sort. Perhaps cloth dollies with paper dresses? I'm in that place where ideas are just little snippets and thoughts and images in my head...little brain doodles, if you will. I would like to have scenery that could move, different backdrops, etc. Wouldn't that be <em>fancy</em>?! I'm thinking <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Midsummer_Night%27s_Dream">Midsummer's</a>, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Romeo_and_juliet">Rome and Juliet</a>....<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Peter_Pan">Peter Pan</a>....maybe some <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jane_austen">Jane Austen</a>? <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emily_Bronte">Emily Bronte</a>?</span></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2v8zUmfGujVNUnXYSNpDgAKUfoZUhIfFkfntijWLQeWXLt-D6VMWR9dfTJcX3SYFuEoa0NE-vHs49E3k2EAX_goedVbB0ssjGYoeewgln-6Wyne2NChebMOyzL2ZkrD2gbhj1tAKlR04I/s1600-h/hitty.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290457294397313874" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 246px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2v8zUmfGujVNUnXYSNpDgAKUfoZUhIfFkfntijWLQeWXLt-D6VMWR9dfTJcX3SYFuEoa0NE-vHs49E3k2EAX_goedVbB0ssjGYoeewgln-6Wyne2NChebMOyzL2ZkrD2gbhj1tAKlR04I/s320/hitty.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Maybe just some little <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">folky</span> nonsense scenes...a little wooden <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">dollie</span> (think <a href="http://www.hitty.org/"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Hitty</span></a>) who goes to visit her family (a grove of trees...!)...she'd have all sorts of lovely adventures...</span></div><div> </div><div>And <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Poppet">what is a poppet</a>? many things, evidently...(<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">i'm</span> thinking more along the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">dollie</span>-child line than voodoo). And i do like the fragile aspects of paper--you can sew on paper too, you know! And i must admit, it's much, much, less expensive than wool or mohair. More portable--you've no idea the lengths to which I went to take my rug-hooking to Grand Lake for five days last summer! I think too, these little prints and dollies should be limited editions? What do <em>you</em> think?</div><div> </div><div>I'm in the middle of an <a href="http://izannahwalkerchronicles.blogspot.com/">Izannah Walker </a>paper doll~~her dress is a scene from Little Red Riding Hood...hope to show it to you soon!! That dollie (Izannah) is such a mystery...I had a theory about her eyes...they seem to me to be spaced "close"...like a little old woman's. But I may not be correct about that--it was just my perception when trying to draw her little face. However, as these dolls were made one-at-a-time, there seems to be some variance within the face structure. (Like <a href="http://izannahwalkerchronicles.blogspot.com/2008/12/izannah-walker-doll-at-carmel-doll-shop.html">this Izannah</a> on Dixie's Blog). hmmmmm....any thoughts?<br /></div><div>blessings,</div><div>meg</div>Meg Wommackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236322307224414350noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367648584290832470.post-71735329692105067272009-01-03T12:55:00.000-07:002009-01-03T15:07:41.620-07:00just a note to say....<div align="center"><br /></div><br /><div align="center">For Christmas I received this lovely <a href="http://www.levenger.com/"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Levenger</span></a> pen set~~<br /></div><br /><div align="center"><br /></div><br /><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287183741007364434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSu3UxEwFto1M2ilneWZZiVz189MuxvhIllEuB8rlHuun6EqRU0bAWRxEVxtx5TRJhBux5IdSPmZOyi3kJDuN6gyNsdMze7Y_wI3zxX5e8rnfOdqjT5veMZjMYtJuhRG1tPlTC1gsNJWmj/s320/000_4682.jpg" border="0" /><br />)))))))*******************************************(((((((<br /></div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center"><br /></div><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE0iZyoSORDNlY969faMk_QwIxi66m7etDFO9M10i_2I6zgEtEUD_Zp0eJmOssmcmNnRdrtUpxzWs2ESVFtBSifu2EemP3mUg5iTy0QHe_goj03p9EbIwmBjit4c0sZenBOT1LzbiqWtLJ/s1600-h/000_4685.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287186271382607874" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE0iZyoSORDNlY969faMk_QwIxi66m7etDFO9M10i_2I6zgEtEUD_Zp0eJmOssmcmNnRdrtUpxzWs2ESVFtBSifu2EemP3mUg5iTy0QHe_goj03p9EbIwmBjit4c0sZenBOT1LzbiqWtLJ/s320/000_4685.jpg" border="0" /></a>...<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">possessing</span> a rather spattered & murky past with the whole calligraphy thing, I approached aforementioned pen with some reservation & no hope whatsoever that I would be able to use the darn thing...much to my dismay...I wrote a thank you note! And it was legible!! And there were no ugly <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">blotty</span> things!!!<br /></div><br /><div align="center"><br /></div><br /><div align="center">It was quite fun to sit and write thank <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">you notes</span> on my new <a href="http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=19210118">Thank You Owl note cards</a> with my new woo-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">de</span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">doo</span> pen...<br /></div><br /><div align="center"><br /></div><br /><div align="center"></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5VAH2g0NJfq2jWLnlZSPxo5D97-YqcljYPdIERNE_Kr1dpFyj7zVKgCnsaxh7L7SGZjjOpNkAUo1Beedv-O9i5yGjBEhYFFYmsldSI_W0A_05ggwLXNp7_hZYDDOMN-RsaPVapz7yg0J6/s1600-h/000_4688.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287186838882487602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5VAH2g0NJfq2jWLnlZSPxo5D97-YqcljYPdIERNE_Kr1dpFyj7zVKgCnsaxh7L7SGZjjOpNkAUo1Beedv-O9i5yGjBEhYFFYmsldSI_W0A_05ggwLXNp7_hZYDDOMN-RsaPVapz7yg0J6/s320/000_4688.jpg" border="0" /><br /><p align="center"><br /></p><br /><p align="center"></a></p><br /><p align="center">*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*<br /></p><br /><p align="center">*Unexpected Music~~Winter Roses*<br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtBw99ll5UGE1hXygdMblHenrqOQS0QxSVstHpHSM8_1D4P8YX0lCKWhStzAxMaYVTlcTRLJlRdoBDe39NPZw87gwWAQ7kcXmbcxGtBhkTerOsLpoGhHRiV-l5un4ivW9RtNzun10AkOk8/s1600-h/unexpected+music+winter+roses.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287187518276112098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 258px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtBw99ll5UGE1hXygdMblHenrqOQS0QxSVstHpHSM8_1D4P8YX0lCKWhStzAxMaYVTlcTRLJlRdoBDe39NPZw87gwWAQ7kcXmbcxGtBhkTerOsLpoGhHRiV-l5un4ivW9RtNzun10AkOk8/s320/unexpected+music+winter+roses.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><p align="center">Completed and <a href="http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=19283910">in the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">etsy</span> shoppe</a>~~i think i "got it right" with my photos (i am <em>quite </em>scanner-less!) <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Anywho</span>...i do believe there's more along the lines of "unexpected music"...</p><p align="left">have a cozy winter day,</p><p align="left">& blessings,</p><p align="left">meg</p>Meg Wommackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236322307224414350noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367648584290832470.post-62943451126950971132009-01-02T15:06:00.000-07:002009-01-17T10:37:42.618-07:00Unexpected music....<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjalGAAIqyMI9mL6My9QaCtE1hDNB0fV5nGMdiFuqBOi-ImfdDqPRIlv3tkRTBnwGPgxJhfVjLcKo_KmXMMFW1XXZHxEmXd8AlT0PTIl1dm45pUw214E4FaQhQj4Y6nA1tBFNIqKdtvfpOw/s1600-h/unexpected+music+winter+roses+wip.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286821929082051618" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 376px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjalGAAIqyMI9mL6My9QaCtE1hDNB0fV5nGMdiFuqBOi-ImfdDqPRIlv3tkRTBnwGPgxJhfVjLcKo_KmXMMFW1XXZHxEmXd8AlT0PTIl1dm45pUw214E4FaQhQj4Y6nA1tBFNIqKdtvfpOw/s400/unexpected+music+winter+roses+wip.jpg" border="0" /></a> *winter roses*<br /></div><div align="center">...this sweet lassie is awaiting some finishing touches! She was inspired by those roses i saw, a few weeks ago, just outside our nest...(they're at the very end of <a href="http://magpiefeathers.blogspot.com/2008/12/wee-goblin.html">this post</a>.)</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">I was thinking about everything around us, every day, that we "don't see". Just small treasures that are sewn in to our daily lives...so tiny that they are usually lost in the busy fabric of calendars and phone calls. These small moments are my "unexpected music"...I hope i remember to listen.</div><div align="left">blessings,</div><div align="left">and listen--just for a moment,</div><div align="left">meg</div>Meg Wommackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236322307224414350noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367648584290832470.post-41522683297765637092009-01-01T09:48:00.000-07:002009-01-01T10:28:34.148-07:00Fairy Tales....Hansel & Gretel<div align="center"><em>*Mother?*</em></div><br /><div align="center"><em>Really, at the center of this queer little tale is hunger...and so, there is an oven--a witch's oven--precisely where this doll's stomach would be...there is day (a sun) & lonely night (a crescent moon), both helplessly watching a family's journey...</em></div><br /><br /><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_U-XrWTEzWwZRm_mAceve_9f5Tn1zCBN91sVqboiijxBMXrgcwn1GX_KGoevV4chfGPiy9y_-H-IN1eDR7tktk7tpKO_ZNmpavipUVlPSNymhuCNDJWSqPd9siZbbNJ1J5jlV9RYAsksL/s1600-h/witch's+stomach.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286369361370170770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_U-XrWTEzWwZRm_mAceve_9f5Tn1zCBN91sVqboiijxBMXrgcwn1GX_KGoevV4chfGPiy9y_-H-IN1eDR7tktk7tpKO_ZNmpavipUVlPSNymhuCNDJWSqPd9siZbbNJ1J5jlV9RYAsksL/s320/witch's+stomach.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><p align="center"><em>The four travel from their cottage into the woods...the children go further on, of course, after their father and stepmother have abandoned them--further on into the witch's candy house with feather beds and plenty of sweet food. At least, for the moment. But when your stomach is empty--truly empty--the moment is all that matters....</em><br /><br /></p><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghea1591svL0GX9Qvhk_-KUpnHihQcv4yjfA68FCkHqy2qpREvbxqVIOeyX1aLhVmYum82Dtpgy36RnbxrlKlD2kf9XOjpLFZCveCvMTr3YlhRzP1eXiX5W1hcJdNz2vvF5KaUp1mi6oFd/s1600-h/witch's+stepmother.jpg"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvXHtoklyTg51WFGipktsJ7KuVOMue_ORjRQBE2YyDG9ucgbp5QUc-p5frzuy5xTQaHbz3Vi8oTY8vJxyoX0jL5aLRrjwARbKsQDW10qjdLInUaw1kcZwAKUVuMfcBjTM98JrCj5WQQxMX/s1600-h/wtich's+etsy.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286369107560985266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 358px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvXHtoklyTg51WFGipktsJ7KuVOMue_ORjRQBE2YyDG9ucgbp5QUc-p5frzuy5xTQaHbz3Vi8oTY8vJxyoX0jL5aLRrjwARbKsQDW10qjdLInUaw1kcZwAKUVuMfcBjTM98JrCj5WQQxMX/s400/wtich's+etsy.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoVE04mPJcIWTlq01f4crz492vDAXqWE5IR6ouIepOvNVwU1D96BopwpZt0wL2_hf2QfBYF9U-5i5YXQNk7zehLGlbRPmshmFgLoZz7BUiHn3ndYKxIqgTO1YqyJ9vUAxORwGUG7I1W-66/s1600-h/witch+w+boots.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286372469750454002" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 217px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoVE04mPJcIWTlq01f4crz492vDAXqWE5IR6ouIepOvNVwU1D96BopwpZt0wL2_hf2QfBYF9U-5i5YXQNk7zehLGlbRPmshmFgLoZz7BUiHn3ndYKxIqgTO1YqyJ9vUAxORwGUG7I1W-66/s320/witch+w+boots.jpg" border="0" /></a> <em>Maddening white birds flutter throughout this tale...and why white? For they only lead the children further astray--they are the witch's birds, and should really be crows or something like. Tiny white dots embellish the entire scene--they even illustrate the tattered lace on the witch-mother's dress...they are snow and cold...bread crumbs...light and flowers...and the lace...things seem different that are really quite the same, depending on which part of the forest you are in.</em><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0-bCg5QQk3IvHqKoV3i-PtM_En_J2GR76a1iDru7tPl6kQQv6PISpRf_PHaaYG8QDfkyuAtSx0us67y6IJgQphs_GE5538e2GdrsokmGt1ffTQLWpHqEOBNQdsrHCNU5iSJkoV5Ett78d/s1600-h/witch's+stepmother.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286371957277818050" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0-bCg5QQk3IvHqKoV3i-PtM_En_J2GR76a1iDru7tPl6kQQv6PISpRf_PHaaYG8QDfkyuAtSx0us67y6IJgQphs_GE5538e2GdrsokmGt1ffTQLWpHqEOBNQdsrHCNU5iSJkoV5Ett78d/s320/witch's+stepmother.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><em>In this old, old, fairy tale...the children do escape (but you knew that). When they return home to their father, the stepmother is "dead"...do you think, gentle reader, as I do, that the stepmother died precisely when Gretel pushed the witch into the oven?</em><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center">Megan <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Wommack</span>©2008-2009</div><div align="center"><br />Each paper doll is laser copied onto acid-free <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">card stock</span> from my original *Paper Poppet Prints*, adhered to substantial paper, cut out & jointed with tiny brads. </div><br /><br /><p>*Mother?* is styled after a c.1600s wooden doll~~This doll has the unique feature of a "spinning head"~~she may change from witch to stepmother....did you ever make your witch, er, stepmother's head spin?????</p><br /><p>By the by, I do love my stepmother, very much...she is NOT a witch! :)<br />measurements are as follows: <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgypK7TcCcCc7dG53wUsApfILbOKmEadZIxE2kVeEbKj5hE-5q2UcTdX0EEUO_7EJ0fj6pci0qgsV17rBojCvsTHyRwlWve-1gtr6JQmRx4BONVcFURR0TzL7Ub49RVBr0FAHHHJqKhIVrT/s1600-h/000_4651.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286373779879560978" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 219px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgypK7TcCcCc7dG53wUsApfILbOKmEadZIxE2kVeEbKj5hE-5q2UcTdX0EEUO_7EJ0fj6pci0qgsV17rBojCvsTHyRwlWve-1gtr6JQmRx4BONVcFURR0TzL7Ub49RVBr0FAHHHJqKhIVrT/s320/000_4651.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />witch w/ boots folded up: 10" (includes hat)<br />witch w/ boots folded down: 12" (includes hat)<br />skirt is 8+ inches across at widest point</p><p>stepmother: 8.5" high (no boots)<br /><br />this piece is available from my <a href="http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?ref=sr_list_2&listing_id=19189447"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">etsy</span> shoppe</a>, or <a href="http://cgi.ebay.com/blestb-HANSEL-GRETEL-witch-DOLL-by-Megan-Wommack-ehag_W0QQitemZ150318803485QQihZ005QQcategoryZ158655QQssPageNameZWDVWQQrdZ1QQcmdZViewItem">eBay</a>~~as you see, you may display her on an easel frame, though there is a double-loop of thread should you wish to display as a wall piece. Or, I suppose you could "frame" her...she does all sorts of things--don't you love dollies you can play with?! Her head spins 'round and is designed <em>precisely so...</em>the witch's hat is completely hidden when she is the stepmother. The witch's boots fold up as well, which can be a display option (or it makes the figure of the stepmother a bit more "different" than the witch...)</p><p>A happy accident with this piece: this doll's "form" is styled after the famed "Letitia Penn" wooden doll (whose year of creation and travel to America is somewhat debatable...). But, she is indeed a 1600-1700s <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">dollie</span>, which times out exactly with the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Salem_witch_trials">Salem Witch Trials</a>. </p><p>And another note~~these paper poppets of late are mixed media & then some...<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">gouache</span>, pen, ink, colored pencil, watercolor pencil, opaque pen...I am appalled at how much a set of watercolors costs these days, and so, have been foraging ahead without...and making many fun discoveries with the mediums I have on hand! (Although, I must procure some tubes of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gamboge"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">gamboge</span></a> and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Payne%27s_grey"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">payne's</span> grey</a>~~my favorite watercolor hues...)</p><p>Happy New Year blessings,</p><p>meg</p>Meg Wommackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236322307224414350noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367648584290832470.post-20721172128225622082008-12-31T12:36:00.000-07:002009-01-01T10:29:10.044-07:00*Fast away the old year passes....*We had an absolutely lovely Christmas...and I do hope you had the same! And, as some of you may expect, Maggie inspired thee Christmas Picture of 2008:<br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286042335033626274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 388px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjckdNFkDIsyv6I-nlS9jhbWB-b4Vp5rN4nwPUIC8lhNDNeCjAKr2Tu28CjuNNhBXWkoR0KfNIluABfBjcDO4D1cigZr8_Au6uPuiqoZa5wttXLxcJGCIwVTSDKQ7cEynREMei9d06u5_Oy/s400/dear+santa+2008.jpg" border="0" />On Christmas Eve, every year, we go to Joe's Mother's house...wonderful, yummy, food...lots of presents...and legendary stockings. And Maggie <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">received</span> some play money, which came darn handy that night when we returned home to leave Santa his cookie and eggnog!<br /></p><p>Me: Maggie....why are you leaving money for Santa??<br /></p><p>Maggie:....oh....I just want him to have a Merry Christmas. </p><br /><p>Yeah, right. Magdalen was completely horrid on Christmas Eve and had a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">freakitin</span>' melt-down when she had to wait to did into her stocking. She was seriously naughty. Naughty. And was most likely a bit nervous, waiting for the big guy...and rightly so. Maggie is naughty AND smart.<br /></p><p>But our reindeer food worked:</p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286043597492680930" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi38hu_U8XVjHxmcQVXSl0ksNWI5wHKerqPdvbSk_bgU_AAYeV9uNCiJwQod-SVW2lnfcvWgjKt3Bw_wxbzRC0AmaNLJgEA13GkJVVhRKtaZwmsR0QQqRSGuBypYnDSUu4eWcTF6LqceMdT/s320/reindeer+food+2008+2.jpg" border="0" /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvcWn_w-FlaMzKnRjHT2gXL9IQeIM2sFlph_l2qBhQ-h-EWvTCOo7xwD0scibuW_CfTBecsNX989raILK4vaRLSqbZijKFhvvGJlvrAKnj7YO0km4mxXkyAHO6qabFTi9AVggJtKzrvsQb/s1600-h/reindeer+food+2008+3.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286044497806890466" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvcWn_w-FlaMzKnRjHT2gXL9IQeIM2sFlph_l2qBhQ-h-EWvTCOo7xwD0scibuW_CfTBecsNX989raILK4vaRLSqbZijKFhvvGJlvrAKnj7YO0km4mxXkyAHO6qabFTi9AVggJtKzrvsQb/s320/reindeer+food+2008+3.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">(and the 20 bucks)</span><br /></p><p>...that's the naughty elf herself, to the right....she had a rather jaded Christmas season, altogether, I suppose....she realized if you should happen to get a "barbie <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">jammin</span>' jeep" (which she did not) you still can't drive yourself around wherever you want to go. And too, Jesus didn't show up for his Birthday party at Sunday School. Baffling.<br /></p><p>Her big sister, on the other hand, is a sweet-pea. Mostly. I can't believe how much she's grown!</p><br /><p></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDYDKZXyHyQY9VhLT-YMaPX2LLILZs7bOqb-BGQtz2WBUoSoe7QeF2JxnkI3FhQ0dXd9bpFN2Yupu6DTarUcqvKL_5933GNySaBrAvruGcPZ6Q00ycxAAMg9c7qOLz4Fb5X9OhOV5RXTJq/s1600-h/chloe+winter+2008.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286045717417363410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDYDKZXyHyQY9VhLT-YMaPX2LLILZs7bOqb-BGQtz2WBUoSoe7QeF2JxnkI3FhQ0dXd9bpFN2Yupu6DTarUcqvKL_5933GNySaBrAvruGcPZ6Q00ycxAAMg9c7qOLz4Fb5X9OhOV5RXTJq/s400/chloe+winter+2008.jpg" border="0" /></a> Here she is twirling in her Christmas skirt I made for her.... I've actually sewn some useful items as of late! (oh yes, it's true!!) Mostly skirts and aprons...the Christmas skirts are made from Alexander Henry's "Sprites of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Tillbrook</span>"...you can find the fabric on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">etsy</span> from <a href="http://www.blogger.com/%3Ca%20href=%22https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHzh55I2f-CpB_m377lEINjKbEgIWzLV755DjWZTGokwLf3aUJxwLSkbDr9zLe22QeBfsEkek2EbpitGlh8l0WtlVNslo9FTNcEMAvZRS87GxYP63qMamS8uHvti3zJBm_XhSix8WkkQ44/s1600-h/christmas+duds.jpg%22%3E%3Cimg%20id=%22BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286046174622584594%22%20style=%22FLOAT:%20left;%20MARGIN:%200px%2010px%2010px%200px;%20WIDTH:%20267px;%20CURSOR:%20hand;%20HEIGHT:%20400px%22%20alt=%22%22%20src=%22https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHzh55I2f-CpB_m377lEINjKbEgIWzLV755DjWZTGokwLf3aUJxwLSkbDr9zLe22QeBfsEkek2EbpitGlh8l0WtlVNslo9FTNcEMAvZRS87GxYP63qMamS8uHvti3zJBm_XhSix8WkkQ44/s400/christmas+duds.jpg%22%20border=%220%22%20/%3E%3C/a%3E">Lucky <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Kaeru</span> Fabric & Supplies.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286046174622584594" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHzh55I2f-CpB_m377lEINjKbEgIWzLV755DjWZTGokwLf3aUJxwLSkbDr9zLe22QeBfsEkek2EbpitGlh8l0WtlVNslo9FTNcEMAvZRS87GxYP63qMamS8uHvti3zJBm_XhSix8WkkQ44/s400/christmas+duds.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Maggie really enjoyed the accidental wonderful gift from Fran of Cloth Doll Supply....some fake hair.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-WqHoqI7xO1OFju9ba_dYgYjiCNODsomu_MP6U8CdZOOTRag5EE1Nnu_KjX9rdP6WTNAaayYCB87PUhJ0hLyMVzuBMjmyIXjX5NSHYpBHrzl4wW__EJhexegum529rTyZiRx33sFwzG_k/s1600-h/maggie+gnome.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286048774682188338" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-WqHoqI7xO1OFju9ba_dYgYjiCNODsomu_MP6U8CdZOOTRag5EE1Nnu_KjX9rdP6WTNAaayYCB87PUhJ0hLyMVzuBMjmyIXjX5NSHYpBHrzl4wW__EJhexegum529rTyZiRx33sFwzG_k/s320/maggie+gnome.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />She's had no end of fun with the swatch of hair (actually, the hair might be real...<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">i'm</span> not sure...)<br /><br />And then, if you have a cutie gnome hat from <a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5167433"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Arfeinel</span></a>. Well.<br /><br /><div align="left">More news soon...I have "thank you owls" in the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">etsy</span> shoppes & a Hansel & Gretel paper doll to upload this aft'! (she's <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">sooooooo</span>....something. I dunno. You'll just have to see!)</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">Happy New Year Blessings,</div><div align="left">meg</div>Meg Wommackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236322307224414350noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367648584290832470.post-87374573445832872332008-12-19T09:08:00.001-07:002008-12-26T21:29:11.206-07:00a wee goblin....<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXWs1CKd_DgJRlzCaJNF9IkW33M2BcsEDjkevncjGNxHfmYIPc3VQXsQtXlA2ksKC1d_38LXbwxSbGg3E1MaVX8kwpCEmEpuBRxFvJRJbjWTyB7zb1D5XIDmWdubScZftSebBye6QLcgjV/s1600-h/the+studio+goblin.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281534238734382530" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXWs1CKd_DgJRlzCaJNF9IkW33M2BcsEDjkevncjGNxHfmYIPc3VQXsQtXlA2ksKC1d_38LXbwxSbGg3E1MaVX8kwpCEmEpuBRxFvJRJbjWTyB7zb1D5XIDmWdubScZftSebBye6QLcgjV/s400/the+studio+goblin.jpg" border="0" /></a> ...has been lurking in my tiny atelier....can you see her?? Known to pilfer and pillage through my supplies...to sneakily spirit rare spun-cotton mushrooms away to the dollies' house and hide them in the attic! Sequins, beads, charms~~beware! Fabric, paper, pencils....and MARKERS!~~hide yourselves and hope to spare the tiny goblin!!!<br /><br /><br />Some days I lonnnng for a space to work (the above photo is our small kitchen table...)~~but other days, I enjoy small hands to "help"...I know the girls are learning, all the time, and best of all watching Mama <em>make stuff</em>. We've all lost that simple privilege, somewhere along the way. I want my girls to know, too, that you can have a "job" that makes you happy! Really. I mean seriously...is this a job!?<br /><br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281539002706628578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL1buuguyEJdTo4IGcQ00OgKKmM9jGDJ20qJkQC8LbgvXH8pL7arS9D1t2ZiUIYwPTM4TWK_ybbZZswvpjPSG9dwIWX1INrn6AcZuReMR-g4BaXYCDiVqjdqNeFzXnFgYQMQPQwWTG7I8H/s400/is+this+a+job.jpg" border="0" />Sitting at the kitchen table, cozy with the snow and cold outside our nest...Christmas music, a pine scented candle burning, and coloring...painting, cutting, glittering...<em>making</em>.</p><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?ref=sr_list_5&listing_id=18773358"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281539825189256770" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 223px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw3jUf7_c2WcxKXxVpPtn_ECFUZMY4j_o1vsWYGgRGUxjXnZPsv-lOQtGmt7qyGFasHWCjRvutLJAj0vpZkVmEisPyM_-Q6T5VHXnKNAJWK7HpkKadORWyy_XnXNewqdfeiTjLmUFMAeLL/s320/nutcracker+paper+doll+.jpg" border="0" /></a>Once more, Chloe (7), has inspired a whole new collection of work...(she is entirely responsible for the Christmas Gnomes, and all of the gnomes to follow...)<br /><br /><br />She's just enchanted with The Nutcracker, and did a wonderful job of painting her very own!!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAVpSdyUNS67kSJtpLNGu0ZDiabzCw_W7qAktw15nuOUVaVCGeYjdw_kWpKI6_NQycJ92z1yiw05hwBJhgKMrD6TpEHFi4gOsy_HQbW-d9g4hK2BmH8M3feNcbtmIZPL7fdY1ouv-UxZnB/s1600-h/chloes+nutcracker+2008.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281544556317673170" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 198px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAVpSdyUNS67kSJtpLNGu0ZDiabzCw_W7qAktw15nuOUVaVCGeYjdw_kWpKI6_NQycJ92z1yiw05hwBJhgKMrD6TpEHFi4gOsy_HQbW-d9g4hK2BmH8M3feNcbtmIZPL7fdY1ouv-UxZnB/s320/chloes+nutcracker+2008.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /></p><br />By the by...the first song on my blog is "Red Clay Halo" by <a href="http://www.google.com/musicl?lid=Ouo8Vspk2ZC&aid=Ge0XbrD9j5L">Gillian Welch!</a><br /><br />Her CD, Time (The Revelator), is tippity-top on my Christmas Wish List....okay...to be dead honest, it's "tied" with <a href="http://rosylittlethings.typepad.com/posie_gets_cozy/2006/02/index.html">Alicia Paulson's</a> book~~<a href="http://aliciapaulson.com/books.html">Stitched in Time</a>. I didn't know about this sweet posy!! Can't wait to open it on Christmas morn'...(Joe's excellent about sticking to the wish list...!)<br /><br /><br /><br />I heard Gillian Welch on the <a href="http://www.reverieart.blogspot.com/">Audrey Eclectic blog</a>....is that some fancy folk art or what?! :)<br /><br /><br /><br />Just one last thing to share with you....a lovely "gift" was waiting outside the door of our nest this morning, just waiting for me to capture it in a picture...just look at these beautiful winter roses!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-UKqUCYNjwIuoutAx3_RL9KRwf9ZY1ln6wXpsjOEsN8dBRYeu74p7ajna5aXHPc1kQrTDLjMxU1hr2spQiakBlSAtSyroiemA1rdioFgAnbt0yQRkOa7G1fkaLu8HGYPH0Npm7CDlQh8j/s1600-h/my+winter+roses.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281548761508643906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-UKqUCYNjwIuoutAx3_RL9KRwf9ZY1ln6wXpsjOEsN8dBRYeu74p7ajna5aXHPc1kQrTDLjMxU1hr2spQiakBlSAtSyroiemA1rdioFgAnbt0yQRkOa7G1fkaLu8HGYPH0Npm7CDlQh8j/s400/my+winter+roses.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Now, I really must fly from the nest~~to the post office! EVERYTHING is going out today...I can breathe and stitch on dollies to play with~~how fun! And I must say, the final trip to the post before Christmas is becoming one of my favorite traditions....good-bye little boxes!!<br /><br />We'll chat again soon~~we had a rather hilarious <a href="http://scandinavian-history.suite101.com/article.cfm/history_of_saint_lucia">Saint Lucia</a> celebration...more on that tomorrow?<br /><br />Blessings,<br />MegMeg Wommackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236322307224414350noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367648584290832470.post-79209932436594425082008-12-02T15:51:00.001-07:002008-12-03T11:28:13.005-07:00*They sailed away for a year & a day....*<div align="center"><a href="http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&rd=1&item=150313823055&ssPageName=STRK:MESE:IT&ih=005"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275329381159089570" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 217px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWIFTkCe4QAmSnpND4nfY_40-lgGKyoQVwx1E-h7oZObUgVtcpV5B1MB_ewLW_Atpm1oqrf4DY4rNItnTvWnMMdVtP_Gigju6DMbMaoKzJK4LORjWd7zLrplBKZJG99hpILgQcTrzg2G70/s400/owl+and+the+pussycat+sail+away.jpg" border="0" /></a> I<br />The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea In a beautiful pea green boat,They took some honey, and plenty of money, Wrapped up in a five pound note.</div><div align="center">The Owl looked up to the stars above, </div><div align="center">And sang to a small guitar,</div><div align="center">'O lovely Pussy! O Pussy my love, </div><div align="center">What a beautiful Pussy you are, </div><div align="center"> You are, </div><div align="center">You are!</div><div align="center">What a beautiful Pussy you are!'<br /><p><a href="http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&rd=1&item=150313823055&ssPageName=STRK:MESE:IT&ih=005"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275329569264622306" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 327px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIhCCJiyPAD8Vw8o_n7eZ96-lWI0l8lrahkE5ackmVAlc45PnQQwuUF62zazk6Aa3BfE8HUUfga9L1zYe5po_JOK-DpJe7lk-m-9Klphx6vuDmCMNvSCO0rObGjohuSIVtfUFvNP8-hctA/s400/owl+and+pussycat+cameo.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><br /><br /><br /><p>II<br />Pussy said to the Owl, </p><p>'You elegant fowl! </p><p>How charmingly sweet you sing!</p><p>O let us be married! </p><p>too long we have tarried: </p><p>But what shall we do for a ring?'</p><p>They sailed away, for a year and a day, </p><p>To the land where the Bong-tree grows</p><p>And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood </p><p>With a ring at the end of his nose,</p><p> His nose,</p><p> His nose,</p><p>With a ring at the end of his nose....</p><p><a href="http://www.nonsenselit.org/Lear/ns/pussy.html">Edward Lear, 1871<br /></a><br /><br />~~<a href="http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&rd=1&item=150313823055&ssPageName=STRK:MESE:IT&ih=005">You may visit this whimsical pair on eBay</a>~~</p></div><p></p><div align="center">********************************************</div><div align="center">Today? I'm making mermaids!! </div><div align="center">Tomorrow...well. </div><div align="center">That's just way too far ahead to think about, now isn't it??!<br /></div><div align="left"><br />Blessings,</div><p>Meg<a href="http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&rd=1&item=150313823055&ssPageName=STRK:MESE:IT&ih=005"></a></p>Meg Wommackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236322307224414350noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367648584290832470.post-13736965575215845312008-11-21T10:32:00.000-07:002008-12-26T21:09:49.636-07:00Rabid Hedgehogs & Christmas Whimsies...<div align="center">*Mr. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Pipps</span> Goes Courting...*</div><div align="center"><p><a href="http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&rd=1&item=150311250525&ssPageName=STRK:MESE:IT&ih=005"><img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y109/megwom/christmascourtship.jpg" /></a> <p></p></div><div align="center">Mr. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Thelonius</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Pipps</span> has been courting Miss Selma <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Hoganswarter</span> for 42 years this Christmas Day~~and, he may just finally get lucky (when he asks her to marry him--dirty!!) And why may his luck improve? Because 42 is a multiple of 7...everyone knows that. </div><div align="center">(Sevens are especially important to gnomes...)<br /><br />Mr. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Pipps</span> is on his way to Selma's mushroom cottage~~he's wending his way through the winding, frosty, paths of Christmas Forest. Granted, he does this every Christmas day~~at least for the last 41 Christmases~~but this year...THIS year...he's bringing Miss Selma a nutmeg latte (along with the berry bouquet, candy canes, mushroom, and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">pine cones</span>...). I have high hopes for Mr. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Pipps</span>! ~~and for the coffee shops as well.<br /><br />But what will Miss Selma say??? What will she do?!<br /><br />The first Christmas Mr. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Pipps</span> approached the topic of gnomish nuptials, Miss Selma dumped a pot of oatmeal upon his noggin (but we can all agree he deserved it--courting for only one year before a proposal?! That would be an <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">engagement</span> entered into with haste and ill breeding. Miss Selma made an <em>extremely</em> wise choice in her declining...) The fourth Christmas involved a snowbank--the 13<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">th</span> a rabid hedgehog (13 is unlucky, after all...thus, the extreme response on our young lady's part.) There are 36 other unfortunate tales of Christmas Proposals and their ensuing heartbreak~~but I'll spare you Mr. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Pipps</span>' annual misery. His leg has healed just fine~~barely a limp~~and the scar on his...well. It simply adds to his <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">roguish</span> charm.<br /><br />And so, Mr. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Pipps</span> wends his way along...softly singing a tune from "Cabaret"...<br /><br />"Maybe this time,<br />I'll be lucky....<br />...Not a loser anymore</div><div align="center">Like the last time</div><div align="center">And the time before..."<br /><br />Ah, the winsome hope of Sally & Mr. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Pipps</span>!<br /><br />***************************************************</div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>PS~~I really must cite the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cabaret_(musical)">"Cabaret" </a>reference...<br />Musical Play by Joe <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Masteroff</span>.Lyrics by Fred Ebb. Music by John <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Kander</span>.Based on I Am A Camera by John van <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Druten</span> and Berlin Stories by Christopher Isherwood.Original Production directed by Harold Prince and Choreographed by Ron Fields</em> </span><br />**************************************************</div><p align="center">Mr. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Pipps</span> is <a href="http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&rd=1&item=150311250525&ssPageName=STRK:MESE:IT&ih=005">available on eBay</a>...as well as the rest of this week's offerings!</p><p align="center"><a href="http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&rd=1&item=150311243563&ssPageName=STRK:MESE:IT&ih=005">*Lucinda Stars*</a></p><p align="center"></p><p align="center"><center><a href="http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&rd=1&item=150311243563&ssPageName=STRK:MESE:IT&ih=005"><img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y109/megwom/100_0472.jpg" /></a> </center><center></center><center>A tiny star pixie to flit about your tree~~but beware!...*Lucinda* has been known to turn harmless candy canes into deadly sharp holiday weapons...<br />...no frisky <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Santa</span> for this pixie!<br />(and is it just me or is she somehow reminiscent of Lori Petty in "Tank Girl"???)</center><center>*************************************************************</center><center><a href="http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&rd=1&item=150311237935&ssPageName=STRK:MESE:IT&ih=005">*Happy Christmas Forest*</a></center><center><a href="http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&rd=1&item=150311237935&ssPageName=STRK:MESE:IT&ih=005"><img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y109/megwom/happychristmaswreath.jpg" /></a></center><center></center><center></center><center>...a wonderful 10" Doll Wreath...my favorite figure in the wreath is the wee owl at the top~~</center><center></center><center><a href="http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&rd=1&item=150311237935&ssPageName=STRK:MESE:IT&ih=005"><img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y109/megwom/happychristmasowl.jpg" /></a></center><center></center><center>***************************************************************</center><center></center><center>And let's see...what else?? *Winter's Queen*, *The Frost Moon*, and a tiny winter owl...</center><center></center><center><a href="http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&rd=1&item=150311239729&ssPageName=STRK:MESE:IT&ih=005"><img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y109/megwom/winterowlzooom.jpg" /></a> </center><center></center><center>....<a href="http://my.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?MyEbay&gbh=1&_trksid=m37"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">allllllllll</span> on eBay</a></center><center></center><center>*****************************************************************</center><center></center><div align="center">Thank you all so much for your consideration of my work~~</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">blessings,</div><div align="center">meg</div>Meg Wommackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236322307224414350noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367648584290832470.post-74831211207322294042008-11-15T21:22:00.000-07:002009-01-01T10:31:03.077-07:00In Christmas Forest...<a href="http://cgi.ebay.com/EHAG-winter-owl-folk-art-GNOME-DOLL-ornament-blestb_W0QQitemZ150310188961QQihZ005QQcategoryZ158655QQssPageNameZWDVWQQrdZ1QQcmdZViewItem"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269115096764774498" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhucPO413O8kMNRX_1lrH_sC3H7NFaGtnJy8E1am0UYbPVgaSKjY7zJ1r4TxZcIqT5kWYRoAHvgoenSgi7-wUK4Pv4zZvqHMA_VdLNASsW4MIKffPneWyCT08yCmx5XK0ggPeGyt1KdhFrn/s400/100_0428.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>..<em>...you might find a wee gnome~~or, perhaps, a tiny mushroom pixie! A woodland frosted with whimsy can hold many a wonder indeed!</em> <em>Aloysius Gnome and sweet Winifred Owl are just two of the many small stewards of Christmas Forest~~</em><br /><br /><div><div><br /><div><em>Together, they live amongst the sparkling pine cones and spotted mushrooms...</em>and<em> the spotted mushroom </em>pixies<em> (which are not very well behaved, to be dead honest).</em><br /><br /></div><div><a href="http://cgi.ebay.com/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&item=150310071558"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269110978669169250" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4RFq9Gb0mgP9xH6mzI1BAQfp4_DAbUeqUgZN9rpdfqZJfC-rmgnw7mwJHL2xLHf2Gkz1wOwTKL24z7jv0EGMHXxBfc2Lkhy8jDFWBbBNMeXRLFbNBWeLYg1KXKMg6-OtKogRzwKSa2cSc/s400/100_0424.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="http://cgi.ebay.com/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&item=150310072056"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269110743855591538" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM4N0AinU7BakixBnMDGK9BjyXzOXFZYpaoJbPUAm45h_-icVGW87mOYz5oYBUPZdgacoX7SFSwH4YiMuEESa6zJxkEZxw6jiGjkK15CLI4XUr3BJkmcd7CD2Y4jBS6aUjnysFggsDVfi_/s400/green+mushroom+pixie+zoom.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><em>...softly floating above the snowy Christmas Forest trees~~a tiny star pixie...</em><em>bright and aloft, just below the winter moon (he's for next week!!!).....</em><br /><br /></div><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269113707902084786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 256px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRld3pZ2QbyNCOQ3VT6IAUGeStzJf9L1ieJDjD7UmunfLzgjwXrmWKyF09-G1z_mR1DyrZVIV_er_kfve7KUOSvIW3v4ikIY9buyIUB2n_3QUtzx14YN_gRcs7ylgfCSFJJ_xBIJ10sAqH/s400/star+pixie+zoom.jpg" border="0" />Well, it was just<em> time</em> to make some dollies...and the EHAG Artist's Challenge for November was absolutely inspirational!! Please click the banner (below) to visit all of the <a href="http://search.ebay.com/ehag_W0QQdfspZ32QQfromZR40QQfsooZ1QQfsopZ1QQsbrsrtZd">Eclectic Halloween Artist's Groups' auctions</a>...you may <a href="http://ehagart.blogspot.com/">visit our blog</a> as well!<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://search.ebay.com/ehag_W0QQdfspZ32QQfromZR40QQfsooZ1QQfsopZ1QQsbrsrtZd"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269109037563808402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 209px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPVJOSJ_N-vJPd0gQ3GlaDWHCpIbvMeJHkHiUSVPSWZZOCJ-PJ0-GPfjEAE4Q5eVzx1dSon_yW4KuhiRz-KJ0FBhTY_-cx9Dm4mS-YekfYAceZVbEiszlSJaGvCSHGKoj-Chpx2x7iYsRr/s400/EHAGOwls.jpg" border="0" /></a> I'd already been dreaming of little gnomes...and with an owl! Oh my! (and did you know, there actually is such a thing as an <a href="http://images.google.com/images?hl=en&q=elf+owl&gbv=2">"elf owl"~~</a>it's true!)<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEc55kq5PKx2lGzew9iaVUTh69mFCbYdTvt-0mO-CXebiCx8nSSBI732VPq1y9031R9UkByyg4UrejX_1RipvQR4JwWser9xlL9KMohDRPTeMBY76w6Tee2jlPjKEkS1kJN1Tvp2J2m61G/s1600-h/100_0430.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269115743465564786" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEc55kq5PKx2lGzew9iaVUTh69mFCbYdTvt-0mO-CXebiCx8nSSBI732VPq1y9031R9UkByyg4UrejX_1RipvQR4JwWser9xlL9KMohDRPTeMBY76w6Tee2jlPjKEkS1kJN1Tvp2J2m61G/s400/100_0430.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>*Aloysius & Winifred* are my offering for the EHAG challenge...*Wintry and Spooky Owls*.<br /><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div>All are on eBay this week~~and many more to follow!</div><div>Thank you for your consideration,</div><div>and,</div><div>blessings~~</div><div>meg<br /></div><div><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div>Meg Wommackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236322307224414350noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367648584290832470.post-77878601933421425222008-11-11T18:28:00.001-07:002008-12-26T21:11:05.648-07:00*Jolly Holly Snowman*<a href="http://cgi.ebay.com/BLESTB-prhg-CHRISTMAS-SNOWMAN-primitive-hand-hooked-rug_W0QQitemZ150309489926QQihZ005QQcategoryZ158655QQssPageNameZWDVWQQrdZ1QQcmdZViewItem"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267577220019803106" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqdWeMwXeOhhec724uHuHBFyLb1P4TMM02hlyJ_xnHLJdMthQ9syxShJ28qx5ow7ADfzEdcQYCd8ztyfbC_ib_14akUW9XkbZ5ofA5pQrMTZmSgT5dR-KBzaqMnC8ASOPtpJTIR58GU37o/s400/100_0416.jpg" border="0" /></a> ...and Christmas Muzak!! <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Yippeee</span>!!!!<br /><br /><br /><div></div><div>I'm so excited to show you my latest primitive style hooked rug...a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">folky</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">snowfella</span>:</div><div><br /><div><br /></div><div>*Jolly Holly Snowman*... he's <a href="http://cgi.ebay.com/BLESTB-prhg-CHRISTMAS-SNOWMAN-primitive-hand-hooked-rug_W0QQitemZ150309489926QQihZ005QQcategoryZ158655QQssPageNameZWDVWQQrdZ1QQcmdZViewItem">on eBay this week</a>.I've also been dabbling a bit in wool applique~~ these little *Sewing Trees* are a brand new design for Christmas 2008~~whimsical, functional, art...my very favorite! </div><div></div><div><br /><a href="http://cgi.ebay.com/BLESTB-prhg-Vintage-CHRISTMAS-gingerbread-man-pinkeeper_W0QQitemZ150309520939QQihZ005QQcategoryZ158655QQssPageNameZWDVWQQrdZ1QQcmdZViewItem"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267581470069784930" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 234px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ8gj2Erz7jUskI84tlkoiiwm7GOhV5QdXOm2aacIbHGBNNR20iRNhDV1_WhESH4F6BrAGvhjPbkcmAxjnsg_6bjDamkEJAF0IYeIQOgjNpmXd9qjme98T6mZcZXZSAU15Bfsw4ZYxUPvz/s320/100_0390.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="http://cgi.ebay.com/BLESTB-prhg-Vintage-CHRISTMAS-SNOWMAN-pin-keeper-emery_W0QQitemZ150308845807QQihZ005QQcategoryZ158655QQssPageNameZWDVWQQrdZ1QQcmdZViewItem"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267581655435309906" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 316px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdMMwiv1v3gVhSnw1Zxs9X3dm5AlSgmGJ5NvSa_CTjN68n9tjHwQ2VBv2KigEySthVGRVpORxwspGOVd2hzSW8NUaOJn4kim1GsN7djJVdebre8hq7e0runHAdzl0Npa_eHBV_5qFu6t8N/s320/100_0395.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNZ3WEpflYpS7uPKZvjMUiGSgqPEZXooFilbiBn9bJjkn5FJR7RRdYuby0B2DDW6w1PjaJaxZjgjsAiempai7kg6paH2TxyAnpccwKadz1t_dJLyjJdtyM3aDC0nCG_RUHvSNUlEoEmAtD/s1600-h/100_0390.jpg"></a><br /><align><br /><br /><br /></div><align><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div align="center">All on eBay this week...<a href="http://search.ebay.com/_W0QQsassZfrom_the_magpies_nest">click here</a> to visit the auctions.</div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center">And, be sure to visit <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Blestb's</span> Christmas launch,</div><br /><div align="center">Old <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Tyme</span> Christmas</div><br /><div align="center"></div></div><br /><div align="center"><em>(just click our banner to visit <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Blestb's</span> listings...)<br /></em></div><p><a href="http://search.ebay.com/blestb_W0QQdfspZ32QQfromZR40QQfsooZ1QQfsopZ1QQsbrsrtZd"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267582790770161410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 363px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 225px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWMQpOXgK3MEUIEvp2Z57y3ns3lIeLkv1oY6SENqvIxiALLQTtejU_RNTurHPDSojgsy__kf36SQUNX_jYiRh6icfzVpT1pJQFLB3j4Divbdu3gE748608PEtbLoGahETtdFKLdRpJApQJ/s400/blestbmerrychristmas.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><p>And now, to address an urgent "current event" here in the nest~~no, really, I simply cannot make another snow pixie!! By the time all of the orders were shipped last Christmas I was having p.t.s.d. nightmares about mean little pixies whacking things with candy canes...as well as an astounding amount of glitter on and around my personage. I just can't, I'm so sorry! but...here's what I'm thinking...maybe a "woodland collection", all from wool felt with wee embroidery details? Mushrooms and acorns, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">pine cones</span> and birds...tiny nests all frosted with---<strong>DARN!</strong> there we go with the glitter again...(sigh) I'll start this eve' and post the collection within the next few days...</p><p>I'm off to the winter forest--</p><p>until next time,</p><p>blessings,</p><p>meg</p><p>PS--if my pictures are "twacked", i do apologize--they weren't when i hit "publish post"...does this happen to you????</p>Meg Wommackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236322307224414350noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367648584290832470.post-22007896715160348852008-11-06T10:00:00.000-07:002008-12-26T21:29:11.207-07:00hope won<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDzSOAJzmrRMcR-E_EsQEWlzlMqvcF4EtgrZh_OOwxNjWCgmLCXkzmWEaAfXTi5GqusTC0TQi3S4bqxK727vpmHTnuGDC7b4fmbTJ9wQuOwWqNcmZhzqPgdg21E21lb3s_Rg-DEigCDNvT/s1600-h/1+hope.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265602548696890146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDzSOAJzmrRMcR-E_EsQEWlzlMqvcF4EtgrZh_OOwxNjWCgmLCXkzmWEaAfXTi5GqusTC0TQi3S4bqxK727vpmHTnuGDC7b4fmbTJ9wQuOwWqNcmZhzqPgdg21E21lb3s_Rg-DEigCDNvT/s400/1+hope.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><br /><br /><div align="center">"...in the unlikely story that is America, there has never been anything false about hope...."</div><br /><br /><div align="center"><em>Barack Obama</em></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><em></em></div><br /><br /><div><a href="http://skiptomyewe.blogspot.com/2008/11/embedded-video-from-cnn-video.html">blogs</a> are buzzing...there's <a href="http://www.pengpengsplace.blogspot.com/">celebration</a>...there's <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">hope</span></strong>...when <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Colin_Powell">General Colin Powell</a> endorsed <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Barack_Obama">President-elect Barack Obama</a>, I began to get<strong><em> excited</em></strong>!!! and lo and behold, <em>hope won</em>....</div><br /><div></div><br /><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">tuesday</span> night, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">joe</span> had to work an over-night...i sat up, alone, eating <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">wayyyyy</span> too much <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">halloween</span> candy--i was a bundle of nerves...the first few electoral wins were Kerry <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">alllll</span> over again. i knew i shouldn't get crazy-mad-excited....finally, i put in season one of the x-files. then <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">joe</span> called--Obama won! <em>we</em> won...<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">chloe</span> woke up the next morning and the first thing she said:</div><div> </div><div>"mom! did Rock Obama win????" (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">maggie</span> "voted" for Bush...sigh.)</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>this was a shoe-leather, $5 donation campaign--somehow, we <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">combated</span> the non-sense in our inbox (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">snopes</span> is a beautiful, beautiful, thing!)...somehow, we spoke truth...even to angry family members & friends...somehow, we stayed the course and ducked the "spin"--somehow, <strong>hope won!</strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><div>i am 33 years old--this is the first President I've voted for who won. this is the first election that, when it was <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">allll</span> over, i feel it's only just begun! instead of "oh well..." (that's the delicate way of putting it!) i am asking....</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>what next? how can i help? what can i do? what's the first thing<strong><em> we</em></strong> are going to change??? and to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">allll</span> of you nay<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">sayers</span> who think that's just an idealistic, naive, "young" hope---<strong>YES WE CAN</strong>! because we <em>did</em>.</div><br /><br /><a href="http://www.barackobama.com/index.php"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265596937295763506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 310px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcttw-fdrNEJr90uZZ6lDohas39G_bK-BQ5MZjLfM6SL8K2V0pttJCqcyNbeKyZ7kwmRPysQc-gGqAJr-eCOKzE4BWjoUlezJv9Qd6KxghsBfqiWYmI2k61TGjTGcaM3iVy3tDNlZ0G68V/s400/ap_obama_win_081105_ssh.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div></div>blessings,<br />meg<br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">ps</span>--i may need an invite to holiday dinner. :)<br /><br /></div>Meg Wommackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236322307224414350noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367648584290832470.post-60442582202112794182008-11-01T08:48:00.000-06:002008-12-26T21:12:00.255-07:00VOTE!!This has been circulating, around the web, for a bit now...the author is Connie Schultz of "The Plain Dealer", Cleveland. It's true ladies and gents...all true.<br /><a href="http://www.snopes.com/politics/ballot/womenvote.asp">snopes.com: Why Women Should Vote</a><br />(And, there's an excellent article from About.com, on the <a href="http://womenshistory.about.com/od/suffrage1900/a/suffrage_brutal.htm">"Brutal Treatment of Women Suffragists at Occoquan Workhouse".</a>)<br /><br /><div align="center"><strong>WHY WOMEN SHOULD VOTE.</strong><br />"This is the story of our grandmothers and great-grandmothers; they lived only 90 years ago.<br />Remember, it was not until 1920 that women were granted the right to go to the polls and vote.<br /></div><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263703714357674722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 280px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibROpusX2tVcdxLn4ZWqH300XrB7hyywi5NDy1bQy5ux12dKX6tkSHvB-wIq6oZWNClCdD4XQyTmJB19XKb6QnPfgksAp2Ni6ly7aUfjkIAKvpiT3O5iGkxzeTDVLqNZzGsx1lHSea0UvT/s400/blog1.jpg" border="0" /></p><p>The women were innocent and defenseless, but they were jailed nonetheless for picketing the White House, carrying signs asking for the vote. </p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263703935744045666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 290px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhllgnkjnkdyLLoWx3twK-JH7xuJstmsJbOQ9dnnMacRYC7bXM0aJU_G_CRDp8r_QzJIjqNgeCvvJ3guQnIVXZVSNAFJ7wlu4V9JE_sGYjNvnipJ_q7C3wWjEZ-uDVG8Ivqsga4g_8VamV9/s400/blog2.jpg" border="0" /><br />And by the end of the night, they were barely alive. Forty prison guards wielding clubs and their warden’s blessing went on a rampage against the 33 women wrongly convicted of “obstructing sidewalk traffic.”<br />They beat Lucy Burns, chained her hands to the cell bars above her head, and left her hanging for the night, bleeding and gasping for air.<br /></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxjbikb0I9zjNMEp6Mk_WYsjs5_Cbmev56XojBdmWT3uAr_boSxx4kWMc3gXWxdOAeMXBkXiCIm4CrfNABLkzBvucc4m-ysAn0pKj9z0RCBkYYOfsLTqoKlZ98TLDIz63YTfBslVOV3h46/s1600-h/blog3.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263704401008983842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 301px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxjbikb0I9zjNMEp6Mk_WYsjs5_Cbmev56XojBdmWT3uAr_boSxx4kWMc3gXWxdOAeMXBkXiCIm4CrfNABLkzBvucc4m-ysAn0pKj9z0RCBkYYOfsLTqoKlZ98TLDIz63YTfBslVOV3h46/s400/blog3.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><p></p><p>They hurled Dora Lewis into a dark cell, smashed her head against an iron bed, and knocked her out cold. Her cellmate, Alice Cosu, thought Lewis was dead and suffered a heart attack. Additional affidavits describe the guards grabbing, dragging, beating, choking, slamming, pinching, twisting, and kicking the women.<br />Thus unfolded the “Night of Terror” on Nov. 15, 1917, when the warden at the Occoquan Workhouse in Virginia ordered his guards to teach a lesson to the suffragists imprisoned there because they dared to picket Woodrow Wilson’s White House for the right to vote.<br />For weeks, the women’s only water came from an open pail. Their food — all of it colorless slop — was infested with worms. </p><p><a href="http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/collections/suffrage/nwp/prisoners.pdf" target="_blank">http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/collections/suffrage/nwp/prisoners.pdf</a><br /></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyWWNDSCVQ4iKPePVGcArLUkVYO3A9X7r69r34Jm2JKtU5QSd8ue-hi-BTi-yYLIb9bZC4oywGSj8pSHc8xOFYJ7dCSyPDfga1tjuYXzQPJjViHroL7sqoZjNxF_4O9TfD1IodPVbEEL2J/s1600-h/blog4.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263704763513401602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 264px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyWWNDSCVQ4iKPePVGcArLUkVYO3A9X7r69r34Jm2JKtU5QSd8ue-hi-BTi-yYLIb9bZC4oywGSj8pSHc8xOFYJ7dCSyPDfga1tjuYXzQPJjViHroL7sqoZjNxF_4O9TfD1IodPVbEEL2J/s400/blog4.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><p>When one of the leaders, Alice Paul, embarked on a hunger strike, they tied her to a chair, forced a tube down her throat, and poured liquid into her until she vomited. She was tortured like this for weeks until word was smuggled out to the press.<br />So, refresh my memory. Some women won’t vote this year because — why, exactly? We have carpool duties? We have to get to work?<br />Our vote doesn’t matter? It’s raining?<br />Last week, I went to a sparsely attended screening of HBO’s new movie <a href="http://www.hbo.com/films/ironjawedangels/" target="_blank">Iron Jawed Angels</a>. It is a graphic depiction of the battle these women waged so that I could pull the curtain at the polling booth and have my say. I am ashamed to say I needed the reminder.<br />All these years later, voter registration is still my passion. But the actual act of voting had become less personal for me, more rote. Frankly, voting often felt more like an obligation than a privilege. Sometimes it was inconvenient.<br />My friend Wendy, who is my age and studied women’s history, saw the HBO movie, too. When she stopped by my desk to talk about it, she looked angry. She was — with herself. <strong>“One thought kept coming back to me as I watched that movie,” </strong>she said. <strong>“What would those women think of the way I use, or don’t use, my right to vote? All of us take it for granted now, not just younger women, but those of us who did seek to learn.” </strong>The right to vote, she said, had become valuable to her “all over again.”<br />HBO released the movie on video and DVD. I wish all history, social studies, and government teachers would include the movie in their curriculum. I want it shown on Bunco night, too, and anywhere else women gather. I realize this isn’t our usual idea of socializing, but we are not voting in the numbers that we should be, and I think a little shock therapy is in order.<br />It is jarring to watch Woodrow Wilson and his cronies try to persuade a psychiatrist to declare Alice Paul insane so that she could be permanently institutionalized. And it is inspiring to watch the doctor refuse. Alice Paul was strong, he said, and brave. That didn’t make her crazy.<br />The doctor admonished the men: <strong>“Courage in women is often mistaken for insanity.”<br /></strong>Please, if you are so inclined, pass this on to all the women you know.<br />We need to get out and vote and use this right that was fought so hard for by these very courageous women. "</p><p>Connie Schultz</p><p>(hopefully i have quoted intact, etc. ...this is what i dug up from <a href="http://blog-aauw.org/2008/09/22/why-women-should-vote/">other blogs</a> and snopes--my apologies if anything is incorrect, mis-quoted, etc.)<br /><br />I confess, my voting habits were a titch whimsical until the infamous Bush/Gore election. And even after 9-11, when our leaders were "deliberating" the Iraq invasion (though we were already in Afghanistan, where Osama oft' resides...)--even after all of the spin and all of the tragedy, as a working mama, and then a pregnant work-at-home-mom, life grew very busy and the wonderful chaos of children and family drowned out the tremendous action the United States was taking. I can't remember when I "woke up"--I know I had <a href="http://www.moveon.org/">"Inspections Work"</a> posters in my admin. assist. office...but at some point my concern and passion faded. I'm a mom. That's my very first job--but I have to remember that being informed and voting my conscience, sorting through the spin and carefully harvesting the facts, <strong>VOTING</strong>, is one of the most important things I can do for my girls. There's a dialogue in our home, and Chloe asks questions now--and not just Joe and I...she asks her grandparents too. And that's a wonderful thing--though she was a bit miffed that, at 7 years old, she will not be able to vote!</p><p>Since 2000, there's been only one state election I did not vote in--my mom and i went through the ballot, and knew we would precisely cancel each other out on every candidate, and every issue! Though i did torment her with "i voted" calls the rest of the evening... :)</p><p>Anywho. Get out there. Go do it. If your willing to sacrifice your own "voice", please consider the kiddos...our decisions now will impact them forever, on every issue, every front. And, if you must write <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ron_paul">Ron Paul</a> in, I do understand--it's too bad that fella didn't go farther.</p><p>"Snopes" your inbox, watch both news channels, go to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Main_Page">wiki</a> (you can read a TON of speeches there!!!...it's always interesting to see what the candidates have to say when it's NOT an election year!)...you've got allll weekend to research. Be informed and <strong>GO VOTE</strong>!!</p><br />See ya at the polls~~<br />and blessings,<br />megMeg Wommackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236322307224414350noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367648584290832470.post-71568826087146281132008-10-29T09:02:00.001-06:002008-12-26T21:29:11.207-07:00Home again, home again....<div align="center">*October Cottage*<br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmfR1Yh8M90bJ19UIYduy-U1CGZ899AyAaBBc0xAT33fSgo50E-IKBdC9F5MCGth3x2w-d3EyJqeCLBTSj89fzrvLaRDkHWs_vKDDoCLn-0y74eqY96f2dOSjNbrYi-IOeSylLjFmR0ZNv/s1600-h/000_4621.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262591769799495442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmfR1Yh8M90bJ19UIYduy-U1CGZ899AyAaBBc0xAT33fSgo50E-IKBdC9F5MCGth3x2w-d3EyJqeCLBTSj89fzrvLaRDkHWs_vKDDoCLn-0y74eqY96f2dOSjNbrYi-IOeSylLjFmR0ZNv/s400/000_4621.jpg" border="0" /></a> We are home from Illinois!! The little rug above was hooked some weeks ago and posted on eBay...I had resigned myself--happily--to it's not selling...this little "October Cottage" looks just like our wee nest, scarlet mums and all. The color "planning" was completely fun--I'd <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">received</span> a beautiful piece of wool from Lisa, a fellow <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">PRHG</span> member, in our "Great Pumpkin Swap"~~I began cutting the wool that very day. (the little cottage and the roof were hooked with Lisa's wool.) Then I just tossed "worms" together (worms are the strips of wool), checking my values and contrast as I went along. The crocheted binding was complete serendipity~~some old yarn from my crochet stash that was <em>perfect</em>!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheoTIIh_2BTrCsyA6Oip0ecsKNQXnE-9NB0TZ0ivfDUEEE3EYdLfnnQ8eoX_zZ6gk_teTwXiYLtxJleP92tKy9pTlRkgdqtR1McyrvKRh_geNeybV5JF1HsPpOauntJkYMEXa-_6VvlovD/s1600-h/000_4622.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262593190710343042" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheoTIIh_2BTrCsyA6Oip0ecsKNQXnE-9NB0TZ0ivfDUEEE3EYdLfnnQ8eoX_zZ6gk_teTwXiYLtxJleP92tKy9pTlRkgdqtR1McyrvKRh_geNeybV5JF1HsPpOauntJkYMEXa-_6VvlovD/s400/000_4622.jpg" border="0" /></a> But then at the last there was a bid! The sweetest customer...this is what she wrote when she <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">received</span> the rug...<br /><em>"hello meg, </em><br /><em>just a quick note to say how much i love the rug. i hook rugs and very seldom buy them but when i saw this i knew i had to have it, the colors are so gorgeous. thank you for a beautiful rug that i will enjoy for years to come....you have a true talent for colors. i simply adore the colors in the rug i purchased, it's whimsical and beautiful. it sits right on my living table for everyone to enjoy. thanks again for a lovely, lovely rug!..."</em><br />Wasn't that so kind?! I am so happy that my little cottage went to a good home... :)<br /><br />And speaking of home--we <em>are</em> home! We have been to visit Papa '<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Nois</span> and all of our friends and family who live in beautiful, rural, Southern Illinois...we had a wonderful time--and I have just a few--well, quite a few!--pictures to share with you...<br /><div align="center">Ashley and Chloe </div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262595120015407986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM0c-FOuk9zAI_y2iRorVJ3LwC1nc55YEy_Q1TLqShsu3_GGVCvcH__1N6pGmjqRuWvqz7jpQTzXN3RQcznsrzv93IoiaqqidbaBCkQuA7gYoBs-T0Od7F2YeS2H8YxafqD89YnaZJ8gW2/s400/100_0154.jpg" border="0" /> Ashley is my cousin's daughter...it was so cool, such a blessing, to have our families all together--happy and full of gratitude... I confess, I had a few "tears of joy", a couple of times.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVE_zJ8eVDnIVlboLA711nLlr6iSuFS3Y0hWkogiLUfFhmofPEpuSvgV_COFCp0aOGGhoI_rBH8B7MwxO0DOX5dgD4UMSjZGJJv4KxFOwHAy8N1mt-u9dYr8GknsWIpKe238gWFNMta5RZ/s1600-h/100_0223.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262597346390552514" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVE_zJ8eVDnIVlboLA711nLlr6iSuFS3Y0hWkogiLUfFhmofPEpuSvgV_COFCp0aOGGhoI_rBH8B7MwxO0DOX5dgD4UMSjZGJJv4KxFOwHAy8N1mt-u9dYr8GknsWIpKe238gWFNMta5RZ/s400/100_0223.jpg" border="0" /></a> We were in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Pinckneyville</span> Illinois...that's where I'm "from". <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Pinckneyville</span> has the fabulous <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Mardi</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Gras</span> celebration, the last weekend in October. Candy, costumes, a parade, rides...and funnel cake, of course!! These are the kiddos (and Jenny!) waiting for the parade to start....my girls came home with <strong>3</strong> bags of candy and we've a week to go before trick or treating!!! YIKES!<br /><br /><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhevP-7EK2OseUHmqsi789BJtf27qKSC4EK8KAbmcbJiK2pxUnwePCg-4t6SK1iPLGETCZF4Kr0LCbAxQGn4u-RnuOldxVQcbgtk8LjZpsNa3wegEkECdGk1o5oqaL_jWLT_NuWW9nu_7pM/s1600-h/100_0225.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262598195176737986" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhevP-7EK2OseUHmqsi789BJtf27qKSC4EK8KAbmcbJiK2pxUnwePCg-4t6SK1iPLGETCZF4Kr0LCbAxQGn4u-RnuOldxVQcbgtk8LjZpsNa3wegEkECdGk1o5oqaL_jWLT_NuWW9nu_7pM/s400/100_0225.jpg" border="0" /></a> </p><p>Ashley marched in the parade...she's in the Color Guard for her school in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">DuQuoin</span> Illinois...isn't that a cool picture? <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Jayden</span> is the little boy mouse next to Maggie-mouse (above). He must have had a close call, because whenever the color guards approached he'd yell:</p><br /><br /><p><strong>WATCH OUT--HERE COME THE FLAGS!!!</strong><br /></p><br /><p>The OLD guy below is my Uncle Frank & his wife, Aunt Diane...he restored that car himself--it's the same make and model of the car he courted my Aunt Judy in so many, many, years ago...(snicker). Judy passed away in 1997--she was my aunt and my friend, and sometimes,</p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSLxm3E9yPK2SPYO7uU6THynB1KvnqGwvVCcgzs6LhYAlogKAs1BrkmbsU7GBxos1-BmDd8xH30a-F6KfTkM89imQt-Mme4sHiRa_7TqJYM9V-351TXjCfXgkg_gRLOxZzB5UkZfJwxkel/s1600-h/100_0227.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262598520767297842" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSLxm3E9yPK2SPYO7uU6THynB1KvnqGwvVCcgzs6LhYAlogKAs1BrkmbsU7GBxos1-BmDd8xH30a-F6KfTkM89imQt-Mme4sHiRa_7TqJYM9V-351TXjCfXgkg_gRLOxZzB5UkZfJwxkel/s400/100_0227.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />...my mom when I was visiting in Illinois and away from my own mom...I'm always a bit nervous to visit IL. because she's not there anymore...it just seems like we should "go in to Judy's"--but she isn't there. This visit was the first time I've visited with Uncle Frank and Diane since they were married--and it was so good to see them so happy and so perfect together. I know Aunt Judy would approve....I do. :) And too, there's new faces...our family fills in with more blessings, and though people have passed away, we still have a full and wonderful bunch of people. Doug and his wife Jenny (she's so sweet), her little boy <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Jayden</span> and his Big Sis. Reece (so cute!) and the baby <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">every one's</span> waiting for...Scott, Laura, and Kirsten, Grandma Darlene, and of course, Papa '<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Nois</span>--he cut a rug right there on the street during the parade. (And no, I will not show you a picture.) Papa Great and Grandma <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Reca</span> Lee, Great Aunt <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Gege</span>, Uncle Jack and Aunt Mary...Julie and her wonderful family...Grandpa Harold and Grandma Ina, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Gramma</span> and Pa...Debbie and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Verlin</span>...Uncle Jerry, Aunt Sharon, Heather and her beautiful girls...so many of us. A quilt of blessings sewn up with gratitude and remembrance.<br /><br />I was very lucky to come home with a box of old pictures (with Grandma's blessing)...I poured through old photos of people and houses and horses and cows...! And now and then, a snapshot that I remember, or people that I do know. I think there's always a tug, from deep inside, when you "go home"--and yes, you <em>can</em> go home again...just down the road from my Dad's place is an old barn that was converted into a house. This is the road it's on:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHExYb1EBRzBgFCQh_8rwiOtqL98d_DSFvVIQe-mSzxTvVAJzmhZV6VlmJeWqI3CpsvW7ihaCp2JJmjzF4NY_1UUfZZye1RWHoKV8f_6h4EYqPZKChrHn9zNvs3PZ4qaQRPWY6av2hFmyv/s1600-h/100_0198.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262603826297947554" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHExYb1EBRzBgFCQh_8rwiOtqL98d_DSFvVIQe-mSzxTvVAJzmhZV6VlmJeWqI3CpsvW7ihaCp2JJmjzF4NY_1UUfZZye1RWHoKV8f_6h4EYqPZKChrHn9zNvs3PZ4qaQRPWY6av2hFmyv/s400/100_0198.jpg" border="0" /></a>Barely one lane, and canopied in oak trees...<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">definitely</span> a "road less travelled by"--and yes, I would love to live there. My Dad lives 7 miles out from town--they are surrounded by forest and fields of corn and soybeans...that land itself seems to nestle into my heart...to make a place of memory and reverence for such beauty. This was taken right outside the back door at my dad's house:<br /><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoKkKF8IldjXmTtmYohH6-fHsacLFg9QhPip-wXvOUWfl2ylcSHLyul2Id3JpKar5kFxqDnxYRIlVVCtBFYM3of1fqbqAMutZLrI9R9W96pVJtV6gwrWAp7JAI-Xv35ZH0iiC6Kh1WeN81/s1600-h/papas+woods.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262604765219435986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoKkKF8IldjXmTtmYohH6-fHsacLFg9QhPip-wXvOUWfl2ylcSHLyul2Id3JpKar5kFxqDnxYRIlVVCtBFYM3of1fqbqAMutZLrI9R9W96pVJtV6gwrWAp7JAI-Xv35ZH0iiC6Kh1WeN81/s400/papas+woods.jpg" border="0" /></a> No matter where we were this past week, we were home.</p><p>Blessings,</p><p>Meg</p>Meg Wommackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236322307224414350noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367648584290832470.post-76646602494534458412008-09-21T08:07:00.000-06:002008-12-26T21:14:58.774-07:00Primitive Halloween...<a href="http://cgi.ebay.com/PRIMITIVE-FALL-HOOKED-RUG-BLESTB-PRHG-EHAG_W0QQitemZ260289761702QQihZ016QQcategoryZ1217QQssPageNameZWDVWQQrdZ1QQcmdZViewItem"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248477798851530146" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-NuoSbUOR8V_zo-4HZg9Aq5_WOyUZD_QVeXkAdZFUl8JDfmEZTgR1qnc-zJDXmDE6u_GCL288bslb8DZoHTzBqSX_zaN9TC4i7WuIzRlReLgBGCb-Dg2fOZkHTy7lpzD5HOdu52wSzrQI/s400/sherrys+halloween" border="0" /></a>Look what I found on eBay!!~~available from my buddy Sherry, of <a href="http://fromsherrysheart.blogspot.com/">From Sherry's Heart</a>...I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">LOVE</span> this <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">jackity</span> lantern!!!-- <div><div><a href="http://cgi.ebay.com/PRIMITIVE-HOOKED-RUG-PUMPKIN-BLESTB-PRHG-EHAG-OOAK_W0QQitemZ260288397771QQihZ016QQcategoryZ1217QQssPageNameZWDVWQQrdZ1QQcmdZViewItem"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248496676307036738" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8UVqjAIdgg_rtsXe_eTOekWRcldlX1biFDCFwcbr8qGm04oSLH-tYAN8Ons6Iy31toruxuyxXk3iqHc07vkXW4QbtERyU-n933vVUGLMD4LiiHDBphgTk6fLRZTJiDbgM8_q0cBxb5kKx/s400/closeuponrock.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div>...and just look at that rug!!!!<br />You can click any of Sherry's <a href="http://search.ebay.com/_W0QQsassZfromsherrysheart847">pictures to visit her auctions</a>....</div><div>Just yesterday morning we were talking about the WORK involved with just getting ready to hook a rug...Sherry had blogged about it. And I think, gentle reader, she<strong> cursed</strong> me! Because yesterday was one <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">loooonnng</span> day, getting ready to hook a rug--in a nutshell: the bathtub leaked because I was absorbed in cutting my wool and forgot I was running a bath (our tub is 1941 like the rest of the house, and you can only run it so high or it leaks into our basement. We've tried to fix it of course. It's a mystery.) Thankfully, it just leaked onto 3 boxes of incredibly ugly pots from my unfortunate (for the viewer) sojourn into ceramics and pottery... So <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">anywho</span>. That's what happened while I was cutting my wools...now, onto dyeing!</div><div><br />A 9"X13" glass <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Pyrex</span> dish blew up all over our tiny kitchen. I don't really think that should have happened, do you? Thankfully, I had just turned my back to the stove a second before it blew--an explosion of dye water, wool, glass, hot burners...the mess was absolutely horrid (and just between you and I, I'm not sure if the stove still works--it's 1941 too!!) Then there was this whole saga with trying to transfer my design--I don't have any red-dot paper which is what hooker's use to get those designs on the thick, opaque, backing fabric...I wrestled with some old locker hooking backing, a window screen, the living room window (sigh). I've actually never <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">transferred</span> anything as I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">usually</span> just draw right onto my linen, but as this is a sample for my next book, I wanted it to be "true"...<br /></div><div>So. At 7:30am I woke up motivated to hook a rug as sample for my new Christmas pattern book--at 6 o'clock in the evening, I finally sat down to hook. Keep an eye out for my this new rug!! It will be $500, buy it now. (I know that's high, but I have to buy a stove!--<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">LOL</span>)</div><div><br />Be sure to visit *Timothy Jack III (is NOT a fop!)*~~he's on eBay right now...</div><p align="center"><a href="http://cgi.ebay.com/BLESTB-Halloween-Christmas-Antique-style-PRIM-bear-EHAG_W0QQitemZ150296561115QQihZ005QQcategoryZ3904QQssPageNameZWDVWQQrdZ1QQcmdZViewItem"><img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y109/megwom/100_0052.jpg" /></a></p><div>A changeable fellow~~he's quite prepared for Christmas AND Halloween with his dapper little costume...<a href="http://cgi.ebay.com/BLESTB-Halloween-Christmas-Antique-style-PRIM-bear-EHAG_W0QQitemZ150296561115QQihZ005QQcategoryZ3904QQssPageNameZWDVWQQrdZ1QQcmdZViewItem">you'll just have to go see</a>!)<br /><br />Have a blessed Sunday,</div><div>and while you're at it--</div><div>have a sundae too!!</div><div>Meg</div><div></div></div>Meg Wommackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11236322307224414350noreply@blogger.com4