My kids are getting older and it occurred to me I have not drawn one sidewalk chalk mural, maze or face all summer.  This is a bit sad.  Do I really have to wait for grandchildren to relive my dreams of sidewalk art fame?  Nope.  This is your lucky day.  I’m about to let you in on a great chance to win a video ipod.  I mean really great.  Your chances are going to be about 1 in 26.  But, you do have to do a bit of work, because you are going to be competing against me 😉

Grab your sidewalk chalk, a chunk of pavement and get to it!    Joe Hill’s sidewalk chalk contest


My iron, that is.  I rarely iron.  I can’t even think of what I would iron for myself, but I will iron for my children if needed.  I may have found another way I would consider ironing.  You know, if I can’t seem to find my way to fame through glass.

Extreme Ironing, oh yes I’m talking about the fine sport of ironing.  The actual ironing part isn’t the sport so much as getting to the spot you will iron.  I suppose once you are there you would be foolish not to iron.  After all, it was the whole point of doing the extreme activity in the first place.  And, you need to take that picture for the website gallery.

But, I have a problem with this extreme ironing thing.  How do you get the items back without wrinkling all over again?  No, I think something along the lines of extreme dusting might be more worthwhile. 

Yes, now that I think about it (and you do know I just found the extreme ironing link minutes before writing this, right?) extreme dusting has more purpose.  First off, it is a renewable resource sort of thing.  No matter where you dust, someone else can always come along and dust again.  You never limit the opportunity.  Secondly, you only need a cloth and maybe a bit of spit to dampen it.  Easy, peasy.  But finally, you leave behind your mark, fleeting as it may be.  Isn’t that what we all long to do anyway? 

Marcy Lamberson has it.  Her beads are cute.  I mean that in the nicest way.  They really are cute.  Flying pink pigs, happy babies and litte peas; they all make me go aawwww. 

She is clever too.  I love bonehead.  Her beads make me smile and browse in awe.  The ones I keep returning to are the puppies.  They tug at my heart every time.  Only this time, I bought one.

Guitar Hero. 

I’m totally addicted.  It helps that I was pretty successful right out of the gate.  But, it’s feeding my childhood secret desire.  I am dreaming of being a rock star.  I’ve got a cool star shaped guitar and wear just a bra with my jeans.  How cool am I?

When my youngest started going to school she asked me what I did when she was gone.   I would tease her and say I played with her dolls or set up awesome Brio train tracks.  Now, I just may be telling the truth when I say I played guitar hero all day.  And, she’ll probably believe me. 

Know any top secret cheater codes?


In the business of art, one spends countless hours playing with other mediums.  Often you decide something would be a nice addition to what you do.  And other times you can’t resist the calling of something fresh and different.  It may be a new way to express yourself or just a challenge.   I call it R&D.  “No dear, it isn’t another project, it’s R&D”


When approaching a new medium you usually need a new tool.  It’s only natural I would go beyond the local hardware store to the mighty internet.  It has nothing to do with not being able to see the sales clerk roll his eyes at my questions, nor does it have anything to do with the fact I only need to move my fingers to search for something.  It has to do with the almighty newsletter.  My evil temptress?  Harbor Freight. 


Now, you may need to skip this next part.  If you are particularly weak when it comes to a bargain, a new tool or the possibilities of enhancing your creative endeavors, you may need to overlook what I am about to say.  Because when it comes to the art of Motherhood, no tool is beyond consideration.


The latest Harbor Freight newsletter had a few morsels I would like to share:


First up, the non-contact infrared thermometer, think of the uses!  I can take my “I can’t go to school today, I’m sick.” child’s temperature as I walk by her room.  Or I can decide if I want to wear a sweatshirt by aiming it out the front door.  Did that car just pull in the driveway, let me check the engine.  I wonder, can I check the temperature of the oven?  All for only $29.99.


How about the 4 gallon back pack sprayer?  Imagine the possibilities there.  Fill it with sunscreen and yell, “Get your goggles on, line up and let’s get ready for the beach!”  Going for a walk in the woods?  Let me help you with that bug spray.  Hey, you could even wash the car without tripping over the hose.  How about the ability to satiate the “Mom, I’m thirsty!”  I think it sounds fun….


But, my favorite this week is the ooga air horn for a mere $12.99.  Is it not the perfect thing to call the kids in for dinner?  Or wake up that sleeping teen? Get my husband’s attention when I know he isn’t listening? (or reading my blog ) 


Whew, thank you for letting me share.  I now think I can resist the urge to purchase any of the above.  I’m safe, until next week. 

How often do we drive to a store, walk up to the door only to find they aren’t open?  It’s life, and we deal.  But what about internet business?  Sure I work some wierd hours, but how does someone know when your actually open for instant email responses?  (Because we wouldn’t actually want to pick up the phone.)

I could post actual hours.  Ah, but that would be too much like the real world and what if I have a sudden burst of creativity and spend hours away from the computer?  What if I just don’t feel like it?  Too scheduled for me.  Sorry, that idea is out. Next!

Perhaps a web cam you could monitor?  You know, something pointing right at my face so you can watch my every facial expression as I read emails, do shipping and edit pictures.   Would that be fun?  Not happening.  That would mean I might have to brush my hair or make sure my sweatshirt didn’t have a big stain down the front.  Actually I would have to buy new sweatshirts.  Even worse, you might catch what I am eating and not be very impressed with my attempt to fit into my summer wardrobe.  Nope, next idea.

Maybe a cute little light on my site that is green when I’m in and red when I’m out.  Do you suppose I could have lots of colors?  Like purple when I feeling funny or yellow when I’m happy and black for when you probably want to try again later?  Hmmm, of course I have no clue how to make one, or turn it on and off.  But, maybe… 

Oh I know!  I think I’ll just keep promising to check emails often and answer within 24 hours.  Besides, you all know I never wait that long.  And the best part,  you never have to go back home until I’m open again.  I’ll get back to you.





As many of you know, I’m a list person.  I have running lists in my head, on my desk, in my computer and various other places.  It isn’t uncommon for me to find an old list tucked away in some corner of my studio.   

Some days my lists are overwhelming.  I feel as if I need a list of which list should be tackled first.   Lately, I’ve been in the too many lists mode.  I tried to bail myself out, ….really.

I thought I had found the perfect solution for organinzing myself. I put up a big white board in my studio.  I can put numerous lists on it and it’s right there.  No getting tangled in the contents of my pocketbook, no slipping between notes and papers, it is easy to find.  But, it’s all wrong.  Practical, but wrong.  

With my paper list I felt great satisfaction throwing away the completed list.  If I was particularly thrilled with finishing a dreaded deed, I could tear the list with a vengance.  Ah, the satisfaction.  But now, I erase.  Using a soft cloth… ok, a saliva covered finger, I erase the finished item.  Then I can fill in the hole with something new.   The darn list never goes away!  And how satisfying is it to erase?  It doesn’t even make noise.

I suppose I will get comfortable with this wonderful new system.  It will help me with productivity.  It will be a fabulous tool I can’t live without.  But, forgive me if every once in a while, I write down my accomplishments, cross them out and then tear up the paper.