tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13843064261233751032024-03-05T01:41:07.473-08:00Rainbow and Unicorns.... and all things whimsicalSurf Widowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11652207884297445777noreply@blogger.comBlogger22125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1384306426123375103.post-19497644466971294682011-04-10T13:43:00.000-07:002011-04-10T14:29:41.950-07:00Grandpa is a tranny....<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZSR5Ai8Z_K_UifKAj0VKMYE0rV1Ly-iIad5NfBoJD-NesyAMSG_7tRUs5816FvBU8W8R-8lXbRC88q9kjZ29bWljYYkELyz50KDpj3kzVAlk_SZGFPlcCt4h6dop-iihw4-kopcpdEOuJ/s1600/IMG_0445.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZSR5Ai8Z_K_UifKAj0VKMYE0rV1Ly-iIad5NfBoJD-NesyAMSG_7tRUs5816FvBU8W8R-8lXbRC88q9kjZ29bWljYYkELyz50KDpj3kzVAlk_SZGFPlcCt4h6dop-iihw4-kopcpdEOuJ/s320/IMG_0445.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594068584450943250" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">When I was a girl growing up my dad and his brothers would start off their childhood stories like this. "When I was a little girl, before I ate a dirty dishrag......". I used to think it was real and then after I figured out it was impossible at the tender age of 12 I thought it was funny. I'm 36 years old so back then we weren't exposed to transgender issues that our kids see now. My dad and my uncles could make those jokes 'cause they were so absurd that is was so funny that a boy used to be a girl. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjluklH8Qf1fdqNzJPvIOZoPoch84NASTXVzz44DA6-bXYWvgNx1A1iifklscvZx6P4f4c4RyvNG5Rh70oroXhC2T_oomtsq2i2ZBwBluhFxWUPRHZuxCZJP3uDttU-DSfMMvnK3p7gWWX_/s1600/IMG_5810_2.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjluklH8Qf1fdqNzJPvIOZoPoch84NASTXVzz44DA6-bXYWvgNx1A1iifklscvZx6P4f4c4RyvNG5Rh70oroXhC2T_oomtsq2i2ZBwBluhFxWUPRHZuxCZJP3uDttU-DSfMMvnK3p7gWWX_/s320/IMG_5810_2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594068580164657890" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Walking though Disneyland you can pretty much see all varieties of all walks of life. I saw a transvestite that had the most gorgeous hair and nails. I wanted to stare not because he/she was a man dressed up as a woman but that he/she was meticulously dressed, heels and all. I always stare at anyone that is crazy enough to wear heels at Disneyland. Oy Vey! Resisting the temptation to ask he/she what she does to her hair I walked along watching a dad rubber neck like I've never seen as the mom was covering her kids eyes. My five year old is exposed to a lot more at five then I ever was. I was still playing with barbies at 12!</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnE87GPyGC27ZTK4Daq4Pl65x3DdhZvFRz0nZF1zTtvHdwFsEeMp7iEAFBA5pZaMzGGT99P_1DdiVC_rFS7rvfWC5Mq8s3WhljNCh1rkk6k6-MURsiqemprWyFMRqCgiR0GW8RYpwXYnCp/s1600/IMG_0341.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnE87GPyGC27ZTK4Daq4Pl65x3DdhZvFRz0nZF1zTtvHdwFsEeMp7iEAFBA5pZaMzGGT99P_1DdiVC_rFS7rvfWC5Mq8s3WhljNCh1rkk6k6-MURsiqemprWyFMRqCgiR0GW8RYpwXYnCp/s320/IMG_0341.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594068574294429794" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center; ">The other day we had a lesbian friend stay with us and she would casually mention her wife in conversations. Isabella asked me about girls marrying girls. I wasn't prepared to have this kind of talk for a while, but I was glad to tell her about love comes in many forms. I wasn't ready but I was glad to have an opportunity to teach my child about it before someone else did. I know a lot of people have a lot of very strong feeling about this so I will avoid the politics.</div><div style="text-align: center; ">Isabella is at an age where she is very curious. Those that know her know that she is obsessed with women having babies. She also is at the age where she shares everything. If someone at the grocery store even looks at her, she will engage in a lengthy conversation about ligers or how she saw daddy give mommy a "coconut massage" and they were "starkers". I have to be careful because right now everything is a truth. If I say something it is real. It's a great age but nothing is held back and not a lot is private.</div></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4_QHCpnC2a1VfgfOGpmoPB7W5ujiiOqKaxxaVVw-rXf04eFbsiTd4CqONPVjzIp23PeSYIdcBjNsiYXjGyE3ID-Sy4uleV7Wpxed4N4AOrwq7u7A1yVET6l2QU_c7hiuPUF3KBGQu6QdV/s1600/IMG_7864.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4_QHCpnC2a1VfgfOGpmoPB7W5ujiiOqKaxxaVVw-rXf04eFbsiTd4CqONPVjzIp23PeSYIdcBjNsiYXjGyE3ID-Sy4uleV7Wpxed4N4AOrwq7u7A1yVET6l2QU_c7hiuPUF3KBGQu6QdV/s320/IMG_7864.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594068569369309250" /></a><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">So one day when I was picking her up from her very conservative school her teacher whispers to me, horrified, that Isabella told her class that grandpa used to be a girl.</div><div><br /></div>Surf Widowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11652207884297445777noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1384306426123375103.post-59836187287154033912011-02-07T11:49:00.000-08:002011-02-07T12:31:22.214-08:00Girls just having fun<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAm3dNaPRR3uwgDUx5xtxEqNMtLbkkCMvTfsOJvjKHNicDyawzsIicJHh_KRHRoE5X_zybvZEB3qX5rCZELnCU67ccryGNjwnOt7rBO1prFp-j6FUhbKNISy1_WZk0pXwtr8wQh3NvKq0a/s1600/IMG_8308.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAm3dNaPRR3uwgDUx5xtxEqNMtLbkkCMvTfsOJvjKHNicDyawzsIicJHh_KRHRoE5X_zybvZEB3qX5rCZELnCU67ccryGNjwnOt7rBO1prFp-j6FUhbKNISy1_WZk0pXwtr8wQh3NvKq0a/s320/IMG_8308.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571039416847426770" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Last week my sister-in-law came to visit bringing Eva, Scarlett and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Kimi</span> with her. They have been enduring the very cold winter and were craving some sunshine. We took full advantage of each sunset. One of the days I took them to the Montage. It is so beautiful there. The beach is protected so everyone can enjoy the tide pools with out some creep destroying them. I love that they have sidewalks to the beach. It's so handy when you have a stroller. They also have a fire pit so you can sit back, enjoy the ocean views and the sunset. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic1RHFJatMkYjOcPIVgPKJm61aEvCSzLCWYwpcqwhQnOLjCOXMSi4Gop45C-iBnbE58dK_61aesaXexH6_vBRGvmVOdtm4EYUGMojMxUBkaNcL-uZGqsfjne2PAvXszmkq7ks904SVsrE2/s1600/IMG_8301.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic1RHFJatMkYjOcPIVgPKJm61aEvCSzLCWYwpcqwhQnOLjCOXMSi4Gop45C-iBnbE58dK_61aesaXexH6_vBRGvmVOdtm4EYUGMojMxUBkaNcL-uZGqsfjne2PAvXszmkq7ks904SVsrE2/s320/IMG_8301.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571039413200875714" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">I love the sunsets here because as the sun goes down you get Catalina Island in <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">silhouette</span>. I got to hang out with "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Scarlick</span>" and adore her while the girls were off exploring. Scarlett is the most beautiful baby. She has a face of an angel and I was so happy I got to snuggle with her! </div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjydyp4SdGZDUAU-vSPldZ5Y89HbZNeE30ZEJrnw6JVN298w7ipJ4gUHsdPKfeUNvsIJPp0ZkFl126F6CdpPWKJlxQM7GtN_6D6vSkmsyEc-uGU_nJkwWAQ41eYrt5oM2n4yXy_EQlud-5S/s1600/IMG_8285.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjydyp4SdGZDUAU-vSPldZ5Y89HbZNeE30ZEJrnw6JVN298w7ipJ4gUHsdPKfeUNvsIJPp0ZkFl126F6CdpPWKJlxQM7GtN_6D6vSkmsyEc-uGU_nJkwWAQ41eYrt5oM2n4yXy_EQlud-5S/s320/IMG_8285.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571039407090914978" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Sunset here is a perfect place to take pictures. Don't those girls look precious? </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGlnhU60J6f-myTMh1QtD22IcudSxD7MZ4lzgH1lHHPG4UOplKjrU1E4mHutqFn1ooqDU1LlUgNf4j5DZwgpoCVn5-qGbw6vvkeqgX2W05gLp4-0oM1agtkmXV7zsi5aFAvcSVCm5leMT0/s1600/IMG_8248.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGlnhU60J6f-myTMh1QtD22IcudSxD7MZ4lzgH1lHHPG4UOplKjrU1E4mHutqFn1ooqDU1LlUgNf4j5DZwgpoCVn5-qGbw6vvkeqgX2W05gLp4-0oM1agtkmXV7zsi5aFAvcSVCm5leMT0/s320/IMG_8248.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571039398794867090" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">This is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Kimi</span>. She is beautiful inside and out. I've never met someone so full of energy, love and life! <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Kimi</span> shows gratitude every chance she gets. She is like a breath of fresh air. She is joy to be around because she exudes it. I am thinking of building a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">casita</span> just so <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Kimi</span> could have a place to live close by. She is a treasure and I was so happy to spend time with her.</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQt2qA84r0uRZbWeI_s8iwmEITpRykFLU4W8ZYhN38BRqJXzZlB1pFaHYh5NYfzSVRRLDYMAA4177uJNOHKjr5q6M1GMuUaNA0c8plOTealJpgpNq5XNIt0guoa75uuomm1mHioD4XZFHz/s1600/IMG_8237.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQt2qA84r0uRZbWeI_s8iwmEITpRykFLU4W8ZYhN38BRqJXzZlB1pFaHYh5NYfzSVRRLDYMAA4177uJNOHKjr5q6M1GMuUaNA0c8plOTealJpgpNq5XNIt0guoa75uuomm1mHioD4XZFHz/s320/IMG_8237.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571039394040854754" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Speaking of treasures, Eva is about as precious as they come. She is SO CUTE! She has a mind of her own and it not afraid of her independence. She is smart as a whip and is so observant. My sister-in-law is such a good mom. Actually, she is an excellent mother. She does an amazing job, probably because she is an amazing person. Tammy is family and a friend. She is stunningly gorgeous and very funny. Clint was missing out so he hopped on a plane and came out for the weekend. I love having my house full of guests. We cooked healthy and then made sure we had dessert. They introduced my to 20 second workout which it awesome. I am buying it this week for Valentines. We quilted, pigged out at Le <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Creperia</span> and explored M&L. Saturday our friend Tom met us out at the pier and we had a photo shoot with the girls. They left on Sunday and we spent the day feeling lonely without them all here. I love having them here and hope that they will all visit at least once a month! </div></div>Surf Widowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11652207884297445777noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1384306426123375103.post-40286340927919939512011-02-07T11:22:00.000-08:002011-02-09T17:24:55.140-08:00"We were on a break!"<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWgnib6WbJ5XfGh_C0HCbCVQ8pxdlbGYugb8twGn3-XJ0RKmYt4IDqmt9VDuTaZ_ZdehVm-CEvwIueZHBHqyvv5oTWPsvXMSuSXiiogGwBx4-32RFp0PUpo3_V2PUJRxeyuQYnB6Jj8oSM/s1600/166117_1741801386205_1273800439_1875796_106365_n.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 298px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWgnib6WbJ5XfGh_C0HCbCVQ8pxdlbGYugb8twGn3-XJ0RKmYt4IDqmt9VDuTaZ_ZdehVm-CEvwIueZHBHqyvv5oTWPsvXMSuSXiiogGwBx4-32RFp0PUpo3_V2PUJRxeyuQYnB6Jj8oSM/s400/166117_1741801386205_1273800439_1875796_106365_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571865731682574578" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I really want to do this whole blogging thing, I really do. I mean it! I swear! Yes, I know. The road to hell was paved with good intentions. I'm climbing back from the dead. When I don't blog it's because of two things: I'm very boring and have nothing to say or I'm very busy doing so many fabulous things that I can barely handle my business. <div>Things that I have done while on my hiatus that were blog worthy? </div><div>I made a 6 layer rainbow cake from scratch that took me all day to do. </div><div>I've been sewing and quilting. I'm finally making time for my Halloween quilt. By Labor day I will hopefully accomplish my Valentines projects.</div><div>I went to Utah for forever and spent time with my new niece. She is precious, just like all my other nieces. </div><div>I'm organizing my house. A very futile attempt but it's a daily exercise for insanity. </div><div>Isabella is in ballet. TOO DAMN CUTE!</div><div>And last but not least I spend my morning teaching my child to read. We are reading, working on numbers. Writing. And doing worksheets. (Worksheets will not be the death of me. Repeat until you mean it.)</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I know there is more that I am missing but I am giving you lucky readers the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">condensed</span> version. I love reading blogs and getting inspiration from others. My blog will probably not inspire, but if you are bored or pooping you can check in to pass the time. I was going to blog about my weekend but I think I will treat the two of you reading this to another blog post today.</div><div>Love to all! </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Surf Widowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11652207884297445777noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1384306426123375103.post-14186851198410592422010-12-15T15:55:00.000-08:002010-12-15T15:57:30.480-08:00Bojingle all the wayIz: Momma, you have a shark swimming in your bojingles!<div>Me: Is bojingles the Christmas version of bogina?</div>Surf Widowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11652207884297445777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1384306426123375103.post-43581148725809949742010-12-13T21:38:00.000-08:002010-12-15T16:53:52.751-08:00Bull Dogs are Assholes.Today is Isabella's birthday. We had a pretty fantastic day and I really can't wait to share it with all 3 of you. <div>Yesterday was a lazy San Clemente Sunday and the weather could not have been more perfect. All the kids were playing outside with short sleeves on. Every window in my house was open. A cool ocean breeze, if you can call it that but I am looking at the ocean while feeling the breeze.... anyway, it was divine. We planned on going out to Hapa J's to celebrate Izzy. Phil caught the wave of the day. I found $5 jeggings at Nordstrom Rack. Who couldn't love a day like that? </div><div>The cherry on top was that my beautiful little girl was attacked by a bull dog and we spent the rest of our glorious Sunday in the ER. (Insert any kind of swear word you'd like). So instead of eating Ahi Poke salad I ate Skittles and a bag of potato chips with Izzy. Poor me. </div><div>Seriously, my daughter was devastated by the attack. Her arm looked mangled and I immediately told Phil that we are going to the emergency room. Phil saw the whole thing and could barley contain a composure after seeing his baby girl attacked. I wrapped up her little arm and held her as she screamed "THAT DOG IS GOING ON THE NAUGHTY LIST!". The ultimate worst insult she could come up with.</div><div>While waiting Belly cried herself to sleep. Phil was so traumatized that he would not let go of Izzy and held her the entire 4 hours we spent at the ER. </div><div>After calming down and talking to the doctor she asked if there were any women having babies she could watch. I knew when she started talking about something inappropriate for a five year old that she would be ok. </div><div>So I spent the night and all of today sucking up to her. I have pictures and more to share but for now I can only blog while Bellie Belles is doing her business in the bathroom. </div><div>Overall it was a fantastic and magical day. I sure love that girl and every single second I have had with her these five glorious years. </div><div><br /></div>Surf Widowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11652207884297445777noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1384306426123375103.post-77388076043353582352010-12-12T11:06:00.000-08:002010-12-12T11:14:48.060-08:00Funny things that my Izzy says...."Excuse me to do a princess noise out of my bogina"<div><br /></div><div>"Dont do that! If you do that I will go freaking ape on you"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Momma, santa doesn't bring toys to you, but I'm going to call him and you will be on the naughty list if you don't give me Salt and Vinegar chips right now"</div><div><br /></div><div>" 3, 2, 1, 7.... You're fired"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Momma, stop telling me to clean my room! You are a Nazi"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Momma, for Christmas this year I want a German Shepherd with good instincts"</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div><br /></div>Surf Widowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11652207884297445777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1384306426123375103.post-78775382954567796362010-12-03T18:40:00.001-08:002010-12-03T19:04:51.250-08:00Bed Bug<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDmGpCET4nLdH8RjRyZIv8vfYcwtZwObTDffCBbyp0qr7MhOmCxyxckyL4gKIOGf_NTzbUOuzBN0CLZ7WP_lzzQ3FUwR8wueiWMsOiPCtlV6OXDGTMkGOna8pGPdrpv8IPSdCzmK35tQPU/s1600/IMG_0166.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDmGpCET4nLdH8RjRyZIv8vfYcwtZwObTDffCBbyp0qr7MhOmCxyxckyL4gKIOGf_NTzbUOuzBN0CLZ7WP_lzzQ3FUwR8wueiWMsOiPCtlV6OXDGTMkGOna8pGPdrpv8IPSdCzmK35tQPU/s320/IMG_0166.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546651586739378978" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Phil just happened to be wearing a t-shirt so I took a picture of what I come to bed to each night. Izzy takes turns using our arms as a pillow. It seems creepy but I have a lot of pictures of my peeps sleeping away. I can say I've been doing it for years...... I need help. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Isabella is turning five soon and getting too big to be sleeping with her parents every night. Especially since she has the most comfortable bed in the world, but I have to be honest. I would miss her and the tingling feeling in my hyper-extended contorted arm. </div><div style="text-align: center;">My husband Phil has been all around the world surfing, snowboarding, sailing and windsurfing. He can surf massive giant waves and board down "double black diamond" mountains. He can take on anything, even me. </div><div style="text-align: center;">My blog is a super secret blog from my husband so I can show the world how, since he has become a father, he can take on extreme cuddling.</div>Surf Widowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11652207884297445777noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1384306426123375103.post-25848965745281259822010-12-02T11:57:00.000-08:002010-12-02T12:37:22.687-08:00Happy December!<div style="text-align: center;"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjbrn3oSqoO8enEw7yeL1Ly2I32UentjfeBEkf29KJce0bTfHmrcovXlKKdhVlDUvth4rOad1t1Z4n0B1YPmVN4sq4dYybin95WZGqNJi_jY9M71Hrtohj6qOGUqU4ms2gHH0lvYxKvqdS/s320/IMG_8193.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546180271976771698" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I spent a large part of my day yesterday running around without my head. Today I am catching up from that <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">debacle</span>. Part of my new routine is scaling down and I have found that it is really hard to simplify your life. One thing that I discovered last year was to stay away from the mall for the last 3 months of the year.</div><div style="text-align: left;">There is something about going to the mall at Christmas time that really makes me hate Christmas. I don't know what it is that turns ordinary people into assholes. Maybe they didn't get the parking space they wanted or the cheap and useless thing they were going to buy that is all the rage is sold out. I don't know but I don't like it. Last year I went to the grocery store and stocked up on gift cards. Nothing says "I love you and so glad to be giving you a gift" like a $50 Visa gift card. When they say it's the thought that counts, my thought is, I just saved myself a shitload of time and aggravation. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">p.s. Don't you love all the ornament filled bottom half of my tree?</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl4ZvJV6gANUg1i-1niikGE7bHhm5fv2TXSMHPFx7dqHk_HuCtX5Tsw2_8VNyqE22tcdY9Xh__E3PMMUzyYaqKCA35ZIDXEQUHB51pZPfTS9vqTF9YZH8D94loj0AXMIHwhOTqZu0L1nxZ/s1600/IMG_8194.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl4ZvJV6gANUg1i-1niikGE7bHhm5fv2TXSMHPFx7dqHk_HuCtX5Tsw2_8VNyqE22tcdY9Xh__E3PMMUzyYaqKCA35ZIDXEQUHB51pZPfTS9vqTF9YZH8D94loj0AXMIHwhOTqZu0L1nxZ/s320/IMG_8194.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546180267080569922" /></a>Isabella wanted to make her dad something so we went to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Michaels</span> and stocked up on craft crud to make some crap, I mean, thoughtful gifts. <div>She worked on this yesterday afternoon, after we had to go to a Christmas party so when we got home she saw her dad and could not wait to give him his Christmas surprise. I guess we could start a tradition of gift giving on the first day of December. </div><div>So Phil is the proud owner of this t-shirt showing him with a surfboard in a wave. And he has a dog on a leash. The artist signed her name but then added more ocean on top of it. Let's just say that he better wear this and wear it with gusto.<br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I'm working on something for Isabella and her cousins. It's going to be cute, at least in my head it all looks adorable. Heather Ross is one of my FAVORITE fabric designers and I love her patterns as well. Too bad her fabric is $17 a yard. I pay so much for it that I have a hard time cutting it up. But the little girls in my family are worth it so they are getting something from her Far Far Away line. This is just a little peek cause I am loving my life right now. </div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUEW4Db00d6dl1X_DvAJNSrDnDFDtOH7pQ_qAzpqa0SNSPsVZURchDDPnLjKJlATHyd7Q6WKwr_aKUoSLNrccmDVFwUke5IlIyGAcR8VDbtOxYj8jXn3mCCeFwovZYkxwUkeGjDGW-27Z2/s1600/IMG_8200.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUEW4Db00d6dl1X_DvAJNSrDnDFDtOH7pQ_qAzpqa0SNSPsVZURchDDPnLjKJlATHyd7Q6WKwr_aKUoSLNrccmDVFwUke5IlIyGAcR8VDbtOxYj8jXn3mCCeFwovZYkxwUkeGjDGW-27Z2/s320/IMG_8200.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546180260791809122" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8Brj46bwGHgiVdhtVw9RzqKtsmIIHOAK9KXSXvfz7reQ5LHsjJ18MTE6DDmMd1v5KeWuRMfWcRgMlNH9kUsa2a5kP_HPxOdcJsd3FZsjyyWqVrnHlMC2cab8uMn03gdE8xzcBpchivFFo/s1600/IMG_8199.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8Brj46bwGHgiVdhtVw9RzqKtsmIIHOAK9KXSXvfz7reQ5LHsjJ18MTE6DDmMd1v5KeWuRMfWcRgMlNH9kUsa2a5kP_HPxOdcJsd3FZsjyyWqVrnHlMC2cab8uMn03gdE8xzcBpchivFFo/s320/IMG_8199.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546180253438614722" /></a><br /></div></div>Surf Widowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11652207884297445777noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1384306426123375103.post-54584009371650424472010-11-30T08:26:00.000-08:002010-11-30T08:26:57.777-08:00How to Bind a Quilt<div><br /></div><div>I found this tutorial on binding and thought I would save myself the aggravation of video of posting pictures. This lady is a pro and her nails are much nicer than mine. </div><iframe width="425" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/buCKs-Fgvb4?fs=1" frameborder="0"></iframe>Surf Widowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11652207884297445777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1384306426123375103.post-72886971961567942702010-11-27T12:52:00.000-08:002010-11-27T15:19:54.107-08:00The Non-Vegan American Girl<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguJdazYiRHGe2thBIl6NyMsY1X-gj4tfxsrHnCzDud62GvogMPU4VbzRQIftmyTZzkQQ7kVV3k3-H_Nm5_yNKlmjjg8UMwcJE5m89crmB2hI2tQ90nN0N27Fzm8YQ-EYLLKq2Q_QhEY2iT/s1600/IMG_8186.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguJdazYiRHGe2thBIl6NyMsY1X-gj4tfxsrHnCzDud62GvogMPU4VbzRQIftmyTZzkQQ7kVV3k3-H_Nm5_yNKlmjjg8UMwcJE5m89crmB2hI2tQ90nN0N27Fzm8YQ-EYLLKq2Q_QhEY2iT/s320/IMG_8186.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544336544035729042" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">One of my hobbies is sewing. Mostly I like quilting and the occasional outfit for Belen. But lately I am having so much fun thinking of fun designs for Miss Darcy, Belen's American Girl doll. Last week they were having a special and offered free shipping. I bought a few outfits but I still want to come up with something of my own. </div><div style="text-align: center;">About two years ago I bought a piece of leather for a steal and had hoped to make some sort of coin purse out of it. If any of you haven't bought leather before know that it doesn't come in neat little bolts perfectly folded. I had this random shaped piece and while I was cutting out patterns inspiration hit me. I thought of making a doll outfit to practice working with leather. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Lately I have been reading about Chanel and looking at her designs. I channeled my inner Coco and made a leather suit. This is my take on a mid century design with my modern twist. </div><div style="text-align: center;">The jacket is lined with 100% cotton, an Alexander Henry print and I used pre-made bias tape, my favorite thing to use when making doll clothes. I don't remember how much the leather cost me but the fabric was $3 a yard and I probably used a fat quarter's worth. If I were to buy a leather outfit at the American Girl store I know it would've cost me a lot more. Most of the fun is coming up with a design in your head, then making that thought into something. Fruition. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Dress up anyone? </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiagqQwO3UWiEAeu9BmRAzT_puADEh3hCoNhf8ekaTcCwW6RqC_-WT85BLjmOb31QKwS_V-O1394_km49B67ZFsLbxAL2R2hZtgfxi4sLTahP2W161-MffbPO6jrmN9J76YyVtujEUxYf42/s1600/IMG_8185.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiagqQwO3UWiEAeu9BmRAzT_puADEh3hCoNhf8ekaTcCwW6RqC_-WT85BLjmOb31QKwS_V-O1394_km49B67ZFsLbxAL2R2hZtgfxi4sLTahP2W161-MffbPO6jrmN9J76YyVtujEUxYf42/s320/IMG_8185.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544336530818551602" /></a>Surf Widowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11652207884297445777noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1384306426123375103.post-46924655280608352342010-11-27T12:21:00.000-08:002010-11-27T12:51:58.307-08:00Gobble Gobble<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ8kTkksuQKI_AAmWfPtKw7qGd1igF3MxE6iDXnCbIAHQc959gax8Og_9rMiWYkBPt05s4He4qWknTpuU2tfoafQ-lhufn2eCWa5zB7exdNwvMsJD5Ske-pRwRCOA70l92pPXbkWjEpPnQ/s1600/IMG_8178.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ8kTkksuQKI_AAmWfPtKw7qGd1igF3MxE6iDXnCbIAHQc959gax8Og_9rMiWYkBPt05s4He4qWknTpuU2tfoafQ-lhufn2eCWa5zB7exdNwvMsJD5Ske-pRwRCOA70l92pPXbkWjEpPnQ/s320/IMG_8178.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544328711238884002" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">This is me rocking the pasta necklace my gorgeous daughter made me for Thanksgiving. We are enjoying our Thanksgiving picnic at San <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Onofre</span>. Thanksgiving is our throw away holiday. We don't do typical and Phil and I can be somewhat unconventional. He did threaten me earlier this week that he wanted a roasted turkey dinner but knowing that I would be cooking all day for a family that doesn't like food, I talked him out of that absurd idea. I knew I would be the only person eating any of the side dishes and leftovers. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtqPhcYaNKyEsOdNSLEhYicQqkcR9dxExEQyqRx7IMACHCFdxqAG5ub7AQ7TXHuykHH6zz7dFCkh7YgLFE-A4RBH4jfmXXOzCYO79SwxHi6qva7cI1glagLQqE8kOqPfyyQ0RACYUk0oJS/s1600/IMG_8174.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtqPhcYaNKyEsOdNSLEhYicQqkcR9dxExEQyqRx7IMACHCFdxqAG5ub7AQ7TXHuykHH6zz7dFCkh7YgLFE-A4RBH4jfmXXOzCYO79SwxHi6qva7cI1glagLQqE8kOqPfyyQ0RACYUk0oJS/s320/IMG_8174.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544328704981540098" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">So instead of spending a load at the grocery store I spent my time with my husband and daughter. Don't you love Phil's camera work?</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5zUc0bMOx5u_kHTZ5RZNzfhT67aNzQnRqO5pNIhw5G411DuB8KUHlB0JPNIFB6bSjmV8-pQ1jR8pLlmEmDv6Q-T5EDttBylofYOh2Sh0r3g9p2M79GYJCMwbkKRVjqwmHJ5JxKW-tkq9U/s1600/IMG_8173.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5zUc0bMOx5u_kHTZ5RZNzfhT67aNzQnRqO5pNIhw5G411DuB8KUHlB0JPNIFB6bSjmV8-pQ1jR8pLlmEmDv6Q-T5EDttBylofYOh2Sh0r3g9p2M79GYJCMwbkKRVjqwmHJ5JxKW-tkq9U/s320/IMG_8173.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544328702432467746" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">I was surprised to see a lot of people had the same idea. And why not? The sun was shining and the air was cool and fresh. </div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCH0WzIqWHkniVGWS7GG5tRYkJIJf09lZDOVRwMyKkjziyG2bxoYpAA5hg_ZH343XFfaspNM3UpIQQc3BrEF022-7ClcydYg9YMNZnVCVHGVSCq0hi4cfKj6wvJz47gOqECCACoFLzRMsx/s1600/IMG_8168.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCH0WzIqWHkniVGWS7GG5tRYkJIJf09lZDOVRwMyKkjziyG2bxoYpAA5hg_ZH343XFfaspNM3UpIQQc3BrEF022-7ClcydYg9YMNZnVCVHGVSCq0hi4cfKj6wvJz47gOqECCACoFLzRMsx/s320/IMG_8168.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544328694946962690" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">This was an Thanksgiving as we got at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Casa</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Beauchesne</span>. I like Isabella's version of Oreo turkeys. She gave the babies names and refused to let anyone eat any. This is them, following mama turkey. As parents we worry about establishing traditions, but Isabella loved having the attention of both parents and I loved not being a slave for a week for one meal that no one would eat. If you ever want to forgo <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">troughing</span> it next year, meet us at the beach. Don't forget the sunscreen. </div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPP3RL1CDIgSuGogw7IwiSVsrOVqvCim7pPuoMgcNeQCBro9nM01HTvWCnubJqxV6hNFXoJKLUhcnq96Y_6bTYcjsn7WYvF1ZhYQqcLkXRZBO9yz_EnzDOVewCHHF1y04VSokEQFWGsat5/s1600/IMG_8162.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPP3RL1CDIgSuGogw7IwiSVsrOVqvCim7pPuoMgcNeQCBro9nM01HTvWCnubJqxV6hNFXoJKLUhcnq96Y_6bTYcjsn7WYvF1ZhYQqcLkXRZBO9yz_EnzDOVewCHHF1y04VSokEQFWGsat5/s320/IMG_8162.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544328690931097634" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Surf Widowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11652207884297445777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1384306426123375103.post-79232216902349971862010-11-25T10:40:00.000-08:002010-11-25T11:01:17.263-08:00Pilgrim Joes<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYp0gIeJZMmHb7hGXVuBXnVLRmTCEwkBHfQmwrT2hoZwwjKQs6Aaaw9y4SJk-4QvGSzHRRfE9y9IDqSXT9HFREEVq-o5_xfwkF0F_af8M4QXgfEaWguaQ1rPEPRZAUBLBhnZPngFD-Qw6s/s1600/IMG_8155.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYp0gIeJZMmHb7hGXVuBXnVLRmTCEwkBHfQmwrT2hoZwwjKQs6Aaaw9y4SJk-4QvGSzHRRfE9y9IDqSXT9HFREEVq-o5_xfwkF0F_af8M4QXgfEaWguaQ1rPEPRZAUBLBhnZPngFD-Qw6s/s400/IMG_8155.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543559604596849602" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">This ice cream is going to send me over the edge. I like ice cream, I enjoy eating it every now and again but not all the time. I've had two pints of Chubby Hubby in my freezer with freezer burn. I just threw away coffee ice cream that my sister bought, two visits ago... I watch my sugar and treats carefully so when I indulge it's usually socially.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I wished that someone else in my household would enjoy pumpkin pie or anything pumpkin so that I could justify slaving over a homemade pie dough to make a pie from scratch. </div><div style="text-align: center;">When I saw this Pumpkin Ice Cream I knew that all my hopes and pumpkin pie dreams have been answered.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Let's just say for Black Friday I am going to run out and buy a freezer so I can get my year supply of Pumpkin Ice Cream, it's that good. I only ate it gourmet style, which means a very small amount, but I've been thinking about it all day. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Trader Joes makes the best ice cream and do you know why? </div><div style="text-align: center;">Organic milk, eggs and cream. The pumpkin flavor is perfection. It was like someone took a really good pumpkin pie and a simple yet delicious vanilla ice cream and did a mash-up. </div><div style="text-align: center;">So when I get back from my turkey sandwich picnic at the beach I am going to indulge again in a little bit of pumpkin heaven. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Surf Widowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11652207884297445777noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1384306426123375103.post-37633796514607813572010-11-22T18:50:00.000-08:002010-11-22T19:09:20.376-08:00Sad attempt at a tutorial pt. 1<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Wr6HHaTfxqdtPNiFfkGcWlC1CIOagZCj8b91Eyy72oOt3I_gKVFPlxsp0T-iLFhV867gJBcNfA5DAXWiExiae16tLlk3aSpDBN1O3oFVtkiqFHhvHZOF1e5xtKJR-L2VBHSi6zk804j-/s1600/IMG_8119.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Wr6HHaTfxqdtPNiFfkGcWlC1CIOagZCj8b91Eyy72oOt3I_gKVFPlxsp0T-iLFhV867gJBcNfA5DAXWiExiae16tLlk3aSpDBN1O3oFVtkiqFHhvHZOF1e5xtKJR-L2VBHSi6zk804j-/s200/IMG_8119.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542572934320269378" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">This pic should say: Hey! Check out my pink puffs!</div><div style="text-align: center;">I wanted to post a tutorial on binding today since I have taught binding 5,963 times. Actually I lie, it was 5,962. </div><div style="text-align: center;">So I am going to attempt to do it but in case I don't get to it tonight I will show you what I did today. I finished the tag team quilting today for CB. SB did one part last night and I finished it this afternoon. CB is flying in as I type so we did not have time to hand bind. </div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEithx14d68dMM6JorBr-fXwTYLdM4r3GWbLfYObqcjG9HrPF_6yct3Eqa5UQp5qRuy7IGmxUf3EVtAsth5IS0gCQNFdEWT839fvR-Tn8eK58GA6V7XZOl91NHwSkUKuxn8Fs_6fKli4KC6C/s1600/IMG_8114.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEithx14d68dMM6JorBr-fXwTYLdM4r3GWbLfYObqcjG9HrPF_6yct3Eqa5UQp5qRuy7IGmxUf3EVtAsth5IS0gCQNFdEWT839fvR-Tn8eK58GA6V7XZOl91NHwSkUKuxn8Fs_6fKli4KC6C/s200/IMG_8114.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542572917795534034" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">I cut 3" strips for my binding. I don't do it on the bias. I know I should and I'm not a true quilter because of it but I really hate wasting fabric so shoot me. Instead of doing a 1/4" seam allowance I did 1/2'. I leave a couple of inches open and begin sewing the binding on. The corners are tricky, hence the desire to post a tutorial. But until I figure it out I will show you the finished project. SB bought a delicious lime green minky for the backing. We stretched and pulled it but we still had to add more to the back to it has a fun strip of colorful striped flannel running down the middle. </div><div style="text-align: center;">It's not the most technical quilt but it's a fun one to whip up and it will be great for CB to cuddle up in on a cold night. As for our fabric choices, we just picked out happy, colorful and bright fabric. </div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8sz__3fIw5XxRPZLB7XJBED3k7xgU_UyN0uJf40icN6jQ7gN15It9k2y_xlN9chxvQm-wNpMD-uwBFTPFHB69Z5dw9RV_YKTk4JWDGl4q7dvRz_518k9TPenWRCfal5lGCTgi5o7fLIBK/s1600/IMG_8141.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8sz__3fIw5XxRPZLB7XJBED3k7xgU_UyN0uJf40icN6jQ7gN15It9k2y_xlN9chxvQm-wNpMD-uwBFTPFHB69Z5dw9RV_YKTk4JWDGl4q7dvRz_518k9TPenWRCfal5lGCTgi5o7fLIBK/s200/IMG_8141.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542572903437417074" /></a><br /></div>Surf Widowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11652207884297445777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1384306426123375103.post-91563019521898711302010-11-20T15:47:00.000-08:002010-11-20T15:47:25.937-08:00My Humps<iframe width="425" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/FRwabapgTDo?fs=1" frameborder="0"></iframe>Surf Widowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11652207884297445777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1384306426123375103.post-65555032985888902262010-11-20T11:06:00.000-08:002010-11-20T11:12:43.638-08:00FYI.....<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3HYxGoMliPhdcjzHVFeaXocz1U_bz15I91aR0B5Z5xnkElqpBn7qjL4_q3rEhqB6AluUYvpIFcijHAQ35vT_yp0rPH3hL8i_4NZdXzJKsKgyVjnMfxvBGsDQYk00t-QaGwK2nK1-ZYKTE/s1600/internet_pornography.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 293px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3HYxGoMliPhdcjzHVFeaXocz1U_bz15I91aR0B5Z5xnkElqpBn7qjL4_q3rEhqB6AluUYvpIFcijHAQ35vT_yp0rPH3hL8i_4NZdXzJKsKgyVjnMfxvBGsDQYk00t-QaGwK2nK1-ZYKTE/s400/internet_pornography.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541710576444436386" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">For the record, my husband is not into porn. He doesn't watch it with surround sound blaring through the house. He thinks it's creepy. It's not for him. </div>Surf Widowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11652207884297445777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1384306426123375103.post-54499936429690294832010-11-19T10:50:00.000-08:002010-11-19T11:27:40.821-08:00Oh Baby!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Mk-J80u1hsYwPsHPWb40NfhNOx5Z-T66B8X2UowK8zrDKPtZxKtMeuYKcNYt4US350mzRpvSr7ijKGNNpDWnmDLdPA0gGJzoARmx3O2vNaSSC4GOyldIZ8e7odLPVnCXP0Y6cmcZMyZl/s1600/IMG_0024.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Mk-J80u1hsYwPsHPWb40NfhNOx5Z-T66B8X2UowK8zrDKPtZxKtMeuYKcNYt4US350mzRpvSr7ijKGNNpDWnmDLdPA0gGJzoARmx3O2vNaSSC4GOyldIZ8e7odLPVnCXP0Y6cmcZMyZl/s400/IMG_0024.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541335454917219458" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">*If this disturbs you then click out and go judge on someone else's blog. *</div><div style="text-align: center;">Last year I spent a lot of my time at a fertility clinic in Laguna Hills. It was painful, expensive, frustrating, humiliating..... you get the idea. There were some weeks that I would have to go in 4-5 times for ultrasounds, blood work and injections. </div><div style="text-align: center;">I would try to work around Isabella's school schedule but horrormones and ovaries have their own agenda, those assholes! Many times Isabella would join me. She still thinks the doctor is holding her baby sister/brother hostage at the clinic. It's a lot to take in for a four year old so we were as honest and upfront as we could be. I even let her help me give shots in my stomach. Ever since trying and failing to conceive another child Isabella has taken an interest in child bearing. She knows about the process in some way and is intrigued. She would have me stuff one of her baby animals up my shirt and she would pretend to be the doctor and help me deliver a baby. Any movie that had a woman giving birth we had to watch that part over and over. I can't remember the ending to Star Trek but I have the beginning of James T. Kirks birth memorized verbatim. Any movie/tv show she would ask if there was a baby part in it. I swear the only reason she got into Glee was because there was a pregnant teenager in it. </div><div style="text-align: center;">One day we were at the Post office and she asked a stranger if she could watch her baby being born. Any woman with a visible tummy she would point and shout "Look mom! A woman with a baby in her tummy! She is beautiful!". </div><div style="text-align: center;">Every night she would ask me to tell her the story of when she was born, and then when I was born. Then I would have to tell her birth story again. Her curiosity was never satisfied. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDXh6KLUCPIIYxb5Cf4ne0JnDqvVPklafB5GGbmAM2WObHG4XsIGKCsP6RYwbKyL7nXZgQlZI-_bUwAmaA_skHYOGoRKDp-EEqChm6Em4A1y5OnQ7QQ878YY78KgxT4py6vAaYNKenRKPH/s1600/IMG_0023.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDXh6KLUCPIIYxb5Cf4ne0JnDqvVPklafB5GGbmAM2WObHG4XsIGKCsP6RYwbKyL7nXZgQlZI-_bUwAmaA_skHYOGoRKDp-EEqChm6Em4A1y5OnQ7QQ878YY78KgxT4py6vAaYNKenRKPH/s400/IMG_0023.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541335447667335442" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">So being unconventional I thought I would let her see a baby being born. All I had to do was google it and Youtube had everything I needed and more. </div><div style="text-align: center;">I let her watch and I thought that would be the end of it. Instead, she became a woman obsessed. It didn't scare her or gross her out, in fact it did the opposite! She would ask to see babies being born over and over. It became an incentive to cleaning her room to doing her homework. If she acted up she was grounded from watching babies being born. She would ask me " Mom, can I watch babies being born? I have a good attitude."</div><div style="text-align: center;">One night I was downstairs sewing and I heard this weird moaning. I thought Phil was watching porn so I went up to tell him to turn it down when I saw him passed out on her bed. She snuck my iphone and was in her playroom watching a very graphic water birth. There was a lot of blood and the woman was totally starkers! </div><div style="text-align: center;">When her very conservative preschool teacher found out that Isabella liked to watch babies being born I thought her eyeballs were going to pop off. I was embarrassed at her reaction and felt like I was a bad mom. I felt really judged. I don't blame her. If I didn't have my child or life experiences then I would have thought the same thing. </div><div style="text-align: center;">But I do have a child with an unusual curiosity for this type of thing. She doesn't see it as gross, inappropriate or disturbing. She is amazed each time. When she see a vagina she sees the incredible miracle of birth. When a baby takes it's first breath you see life! </div><div style="text-align: center;">I resolved to let this obsession play it's course. Isabella tells me she wants to be a baby doctor. Maybe one day she will be. Who am I to stop her? I will be the one to cheer her on. And one day when she is in medical school, I will feel vindicated from feeling judged for this. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>This video is one of the more tamer ones and one of Isabella's favorites. It involves water, babies, dolphins and a belly. Enjoy.<br /><iframe width="480" height="295" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/t_eeqqtckIQ?fs=1" frameborder="0"></iframe></div>Surf Widowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11652207884297445777noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1384306426123375103.post-41530493638932939922010-11-18T15:18:00.000-08:002010-11-19T10:29:21.335-08:00A Love Letter<iframe width="425" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/kuq7RYQ8Wa0?fs=1" frameborder="0"></iframe><div><br /></div><div>Phil emailed me this song Just Breathe by Pearl Jam a couple of weeks ago and I wanted to share. </div><div>My heart goes out to those that I love that are bearing the weight of worry and heartbreak.</div>Surf Widowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11652207884297445777noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1384306426123375103.post-49900255102415180602010-11-17T18:16:00.000-08:002010-11-17T18:58:38.203-08:00When I go "surfing"<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTjYHeny9L3rn5IEgjb-awy5YDfHSm9ejdK1wnj_Dte58FcDUklv-S-exoBfS4WLcD-xg854OuvFxUwpnMDpUgMD5YEXXiGvRO_p7iSQMpF-vzMpeIUav8SqyYHFGnkcietqwNmgAsRDqX/s1600/photo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTjYHeny9L3rn5IEgjb-awy5YDfHSm9ejdK1wnj_Dte58FcDUklv-S-exoBfS4WLcD-xg854OuvFxUwpnMDpUgMD5YEXXiGvRO_p7iSQMpF-vzMpeIUav8SqyYHFGnkcietqwNmgAsRDqX/s400/photo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540708380232674194" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">If you live by me and express an interest to sew or quilt, you are my prisoner. My friend SB is finding out the hard way. We keep each other up till my husband is ready to call the police. He can't imagine that we are really sewing until 4 a.m. </div><div style="text-align: center;">SB came over last night to shop for some fabric for a quilt we wanted to do for her adorable daughter CB. CB is one of the most wonderful, sweetest person you could ever find in Orange County. The fact that she is smart, sweet, real and grounded all while growing up in Orange County says a lot about her. If I could wish my daughter could be like someone it would be like her. Isabella ADORES CB, in fact, over the summer she kept asking Phil and I to go out on dates so she could babysitt. She was very sad when CB went away to college. Anyway, Susan suggested I come home with her and after being cooped up in the house with Miss Influenza I ran out the door yelling " Bye Phil!!! I'm going surfing!"</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyorz-vJ4ovULdUQD_xhlufS_dE9EttWSRpvgr4Et6bd36CQq0mLKnIAQ7GJ_J6ly3fQn7ntxiKvx8U9Cb_TQL7USQXjVDNWV4nAaDdslVqi3pn30I1LCsoizPbOR_WbDMb3AAB7HO2IeW/s1600/photo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyorz-vJ4ovULdUQD_xhlufS_dE9EttWSRpvgr4Et6bd36CQq0mLKnIAQ7GJ_J6ly3fQn7ntxiKvx8U9Cb_TQL7USQXjVDNWV4nAaDdslVqi3pn30I1LCsoizPbOR_WbDMb3AAB7HO2IeW/s400/photo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540708378198028466" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">SB and I wanted to do something for CB just to let her know that she is loved and missed. SB was held hostage last night cranking out a quilt top. We couldn't decide what to fabric to use so we used it all. From the picture above you can see how much fun we had.</div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGc8A3RCb1G9d1jTG0-L-D3zzWxGumAsWhBqQP-hD_MkTZonTkrr4mxegf7Cbl9sruD5z9OLhmccnVlsbLP8P4zFZx4Xjg_THumZ4kNobpMnagOIcK_8LueHaNAURSwnTAmAS391iaEeUc/s1600/photo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGc8A3RCb1G9d1jTG0-L-D3zzWxGumAsWhBqQP-hD_MkTZonTkrr4mxegf7Cbl9sruD5z9OLhmccnVlsbLP8P4zFZx4Xjg_THumZ4kNobpMnagOIcK_8LueHaNAURSwnTAmAS391iaEeUc/s400/photo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540708373255898370" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">At first we decided to piece together some of the 18" squares vertical, horizontal and diagonal. </div><div style="text-align: center;">But as we put it together we decided against it. Looks like I will be making another quilt with twelve 18" pieced squares. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQX-drr5HEkRxwbkJEMIS-JwjyMdUYkizCxsN-axbRNhmN8ks9rVFTPt9r5WtY9Y5zZsrAn7DuGE9cxqM-UZhmQZsG6VctVne-4iExsgJg-iTSMNLtvKOQhKxF7a7WAiK933-4nNzy0fDi/s1600/photo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQX-drr5HEkRxwbkJEMIS-JwjyMdUYkizCxsN-axbRNhmN8ks9rVFTPt9r5WtY9Y5zZsrAn7DuGE9cxqM-UZhmQZsG6VctVne-4iExsgJg-iTSMNLtvKOQhKxF7a7WAiK933-4nNzy0fDi/s400/photo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540708367232625842" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">This quilt requires 12 fat quarters. The more random the better. Cut the fats in 18" squares. Once you do that, cut the sashing. You need about 2 yards. The sashing is 3.5". </div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I love making quilts for gifts and for something cute to snuggle up in. For the last 5 years I have been giving a quilt to someone for a Christmas present. So if you get a quilt from me, that just means, </div><div style="text-align: center;">I LUB YOU!</div>Surf Widowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11652207884297445777noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1384306426123375103.post-75648668793253900912010-11-16T18:20:00.000-08:002010-11-16T18:23:34.052-08:00Diva much?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUvIr8YjKk8D5UE8dy-GUc7kOVvNz_MemcN7d8crC406RBI-51oNlrFduveiH3J5NZMbgbF9ZVJYHe4d8zkpHIOGAd63tWpRjsCQU62fHm-rCm_1f7sEylBvIOCQ4fZ_e29f06p6rt7O47/s1600/IMG_0167.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUvIr8YjKk8D5UE8dy-GUc7kOVvNz_MemcN7d8crC406RBI-51oNlrFduveiH3J5NZMbgbF9ZVJYHe4d8zkpHIOGAd63tWpRjsCQU62fHm-rCm_1f7sEylBvIOCQ4fZ_e29f06p6rt7O47/s320/IMG_0167.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540338364628486562" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZph5HFE66KImSXav32CCv6dsDQUu8Dc_H8I4e99Xo60zhzkxtOb0KqqMh6M3InW5c1lmkWN0_wT_130TFD63nDiRJkujIJhPkTFUpJfnLXewA39lykILuM9F-XZ6I3VkI2PksadxXzfxx/s1600/IMG_0168.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZph5HFE66KImSXav32CCv6dsDQUu8Dc_H8I4e99Xo60zhzkxtOb0KqqMh6M3InW5c1lmkWN0_wT_130TFD63nDiRJkujIJhPkTFUpJfnLXewA39lykILuM9F-XZ6I3VkI2PksadxXzfxx/s320/IMG_0168.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540338359948127362" /></a>Surf Widowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11652207884297445777noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1384306426123375103.post-71815030454040276982010-11-15T22:25:00.000-08:002010-11-15T23:12:40.437-08:00Haemophilus influenza is a real asshole!My poor little <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Izzypop</span> has been sick for days now. It started Wednesday night, she was nestled in between Phil and I and she felt very hot. She then woke up and vomited all over her favorite parent.... it wasn't me. Phil went away to Vegas and I was left with SSKS, the sweetest sick kid syndrome. She was so sweet, unbearably sweet to me. She told me she loved me at least 5 times an hour. Every hour that she would wake up during the night she would give me some kind of wonderful affirmation. It's hard to be pissed off when you get a "double thumbs up for being the best mom in my whole life" line at 2 a.m. Saturday I had plans to clean my house from top to bottom, but Isabella had other plans, and that was to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">vegg</span> all day and have me hold her. I got to the point that I broke out my baby sling and headed to the grocery store. I was so worried that she wasn't eating that I walked around with her and anything she felt like eating I bought. That night I made a picnic dinner of salt and vinegar chips, egg whites with <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Tabasco</span> sauce, cauliflower with dip, sourdough bread and jello. <div>One of the many charming things about my kid is that she is like no other. </div><div>Saturday I noticed that her eyes looked puffy and by Sunday it was a full blown infection. She was in and out of napping, and if you know her you know that she won't normally nap. I snuck out of her embrace and started doing the 2 day old dishes when she woke up crying because I was not there. This is the kind of influenza that makes your child want to be touching you AT ALL TIMES! </div><div>Sunday I had to stay home for some nasty business of my own (did you know I can pee a whole gallon in one day?) and so we had another pj day. Monday after I got back from giving my urine collection and letting angry lab technicians poke me with needles for 2.5 hours I felt that I should take her to the doctor. I got in an hour later and I've never had a children's doctor tell me that something looks like hell. My poor sugarbutt. </div><div>I have abandoned my no TV rule while she is dealing with her influenza issues. I am willing to use the television as a bribe so that my child will allow me to pin her down and give her eye drops. I am not above holding Scooby Doo hostage until she drinks her very expensive medicine instead of throwing it up. </div><div> I know I'm complaining but really, I hate seeing my kid sick. I want to take away any pain just so I don't have to look at my child's face and feel helpless. The only thing I can control is how available I am to my high fever, high <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">maintenance</span> child. I can cuddle with her for hours, I can hold her all day until my legs feel numb. I can cook up the most random feast just to see her take a couple of bites. If that is what helps her feel better, then baby, momma is here! </div><div>p.s. I did run to Trader Joe's this afternoon. I just don't have the energy to make you jealous today. </div>Surf Widowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11652207884297445777noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1384306426123375103.post-86799641329618607912010-11-14T16:06:00.001-08:002010-11-14T19:32:14.890-08:00Eat. Pray. Love. Where's dessert?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD4-Mxx-YCBTwO-bE3raJXqGnWxS2RjT3w5QvrGwGgLYRlelRHBC2P6l5ASA2oU2Fc2qGaFRqKDgBCk9VB1MKLjITmeicW2-HrGWTV50riBFqUaESiasEoQv6VSbrZGGGSKTfDVf1Lbd4w/s1600/73495_1678056792630_1273800439_1749813_454584_n.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 238px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD4-Mxx-YCBTwO-bE3raJXqGnWxS2RjT3w5QvrGwGgLYRlelRHBC2P6l5ASA2oU2Fc2qGaFRqKDgBCk9VB1MKLjITmeicW2-HrGWTV50riBFqUaESiasEoQv6VSbrZGGGSKTfDVf1Lbd4w/s320/73495_1678056792630_1273800439_1749813_454584_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539569467931322754" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ3J6VKSOgPDizDfizcc_Blj2xD7uwfdI3fpq0E68cOIYrVmu_tlmmsq-ECsYIxk6SElkcmIFl6aG_h0gBiMC4Bhn12Jd4yBBmZrAG9DNXol5uRIxTTN5OxdpUe7l1egdwGyQAvmmmlqZN/s1600/149914_1678053832556_1273800439_1749812_4831428_n.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 238px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ3J6VKSOgPDizDfizcc_Blj2xD7uwfdI3fpq0E68cOIYrVmu_tlmmsq-ECsYIxk6SElkcmIFl6aG_h0gBiMC4Bhn12Jd4yBBmZrAG9DNXol5uRIxTTN5OxdpUe7l1egdwGyQAvmmmlqZN/s320/149914_1678053832556_1273800439_1749812_4831428_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539569460038445842" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPA_UW5NvoQsiyP1XwjlrM860FEuE8H-nMVG6SPO8Y0XfhITLtaFjv2dl2cVbkQ1q853WQv8sjhgSr7KUwi_ii-hLIKLkeZDo6AsYSKp3RFdAP_KKWmSC8cGvj6swqLB6AhUEjeb283Mfz/s1600/37176_1681212071510_1273800439_1753461_1705625_n.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 238px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPA_UW5NvoQsiyP1XwjlrM860FEuE8H-nMVG6SPO8Y0XfhITLtaFjv2dl2cVbkQ1q853WQv8sjhgSr7KUwi_ii-hLIKLkeZDo6AsYSKp3RFdAP_KKWmSC8cGvj6swqLB6AhUEjeb283Mfz/s320/37176_1681212071510_1273800439_1753461_1705625_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539561224845385154" /></a>This week I spent it with my best friend Cheryl. It was a last minute trip thanks to our friend, Lynsey. Cheryl has been through one of the most difficult years imaginable. It started with her husband being emotionally abusive to finding out his affairs to divorce. It's one thing to be divorced, it's another to divorce a pathological liar that has a personality disorder. I have seen her take all kinds of abuse and handle herself with grace and dignity. During the whole process she relied on prayer and doing the right thing rather than retaliation. I have gained a whole new level of respect for my friend and my wish and hope for her is to protect her from further humiliation and abuse. When the straw broke the proverbial camel's back I called in a favor and was beyond thrilled when we realized we could pull off her escape.<div>The day I picked her up she came in and took a 5 hour nap. We tip-toed around the house peeking in looks at baby Ember. I was happy that Cheryl could come to my house and crash. </div><div>I made a comfort meal of steamed lentils, coconut curry rice and tomato and cucumber salad. The perfect meal in my book. They next day Cheryl made me the PERFECT chocolate cupcakes. I need her to come on here and give us all a lesson on how to make the best frosting in the world. </div><div>During the week we attempted sewing, which was really just cutting out a pattern for a bag and looking at the heap of fabric on my counter for the rest of the week. We watched movies in bed and watched our little girls bond. They are now adopted sisters and Isabella is very proud to be a big sister. Ember was the perfect house guest. Cute as a baby girl could possibly be and such a little cuddle bug. The pangs of infertility crashed on me as I watched my friend nurse her baby, but I was also feeling so proud of Cheryl for being such an amazing mother. </div><div>One thing you should know is that whenever you come visit us in San Clemente, we will go to our favorite joint, Hapa J's. It's a fusion of Hawaiian, Asian and yumminess. It's rare that we can go somewhere that everyone leaves happy. You will never have a steaming pile of Kalua pork nachos like they have at Hapa's. </div><div>Phil was happy that Cheryl cooked him a steak and bake potato, something I just found out after 8 years that Phil will eat. He's loving the time off he gets when she visits. I knew when I informed him that Cher and Ember would be coming for a visit the next day he would immediately come up with an all-day surf trip. Not only does he love his free time but he has a friendship with my friend. He is genuine in his concern for her and her kids and wants to see her happy. It's a win win and I am so blessed to be married to that man! </div><div>The rest of the week was spent avoiding house chores and indulging in guilt free napping. All in all it was a very successful week. Physically is was a bust but our souls were filled with friendship and Hapa J goodness. We love you Cheryl! </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Surf Widowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11652207884297445777noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1384306426123375103.post-53059607439061393972010-11-12T12:08:00.000-08:002010-11-12T12:37:50.271-08:00Back by popular demand!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtYAa12pbsYPxNXfmUSjQHc_sCqzDkgCu_bGwfRGtBHYUwFD5MDcsTZsiN0lEJuwozBt5dW188NNixT5o4llN1dACbavrg9-n7n4aNJRgQ5WpJqHQSkvTUU_-tFGIHUstkwt7oGp3oHDwO/s1600/IMG_8087.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtYAa12pbsYPxNXfmUSjQHc_sCqzDkgCu_bGwfRGtBHYUwFD5MDcsTZsiN0lEJuwozBt5dW188NNixT5o4llN1dACbavrg9-n7n4aNJRgQ5WpJqHQSkvTUU_-tFGIHUstkwt7oGp3oHDwO/s320/IMG_8087.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538762839561849042" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho8N4fVpSQmqq9nPgke89ddO4nlQzjBMN-5sGsBu4gkV4f_IymnvvSxGCYixLoQFrUPBqGej7SRGeqXuTej8lr5cE67K1FngFEN9S90ds5vlFtxTs2haKf7r_aIFTnfC1nyGqGcvMT_EuK/s1600/IMG_8070.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho8N4fVpSQmqq9nPgke89ddO4nlQzjBMN-5sGsBu4gkV4f_IymnvvSxGCYixLoQFrUPBqGej7SRGeqXuTej8lr5cE67K1FngFEN9S90ds5vlFtxTs2haKf7r_aIFTnfC1nyGqGcvMT_EuK/s320/IMG_8070.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538762830572670674" /></a><br />I have been contemplating blogging for a while. I felt my occasional facebook update was sufficient but my fan base kept begging me to come back to the blogging world. You can all thank Cheryl. <div>I think this last year has put me in a tail spin, and if I was blogging you would know what I am talking about. Let's just say this without boring you with the nitty gritty details...... I was poked with a lot of needles, injected with a pyscho-bitch (my husbands words not mine) formula, displayed Miss Virginia to all of the medical field that has anything to do with fertility and came out with a different perspective. I also spent a lot of my life offline and with my daughter. I wanted to focus a lot of my energy on her and on my sewing skillz. </div><div>About my sewing skillz. I haven't got to the point of my sewing where I can say I have wicked, mad skills but I do have fun and it is a great creative outlet. I want to talk a little more about my inspiration for my projects, what I did and maybe I will inject a tutorial here and there. Or I will post the link of where I stole the idea. This summer I spent it slaving over Hilma Wilma making two wave quilts. If I were to blog at that time the swearing police would have kicked me in the balls for all of the multitude of sailor language I used during that process. For this post, I will share my latest project: Halloween. </div><div>I made Isabella's costume and mine. I also made my nieces costume but you can check that out on <a href="http://mushbellyblog.blogspot.com/">Mushbelly's blog</a>. </div><div>Blogging to me is funny and being a little transparent is weird. If I had all my friends and family living in the same state or city than I wouldn't see a need. I don't want the world to know what I had for lunch, or other mundane aspects of life. I want to share just a small part of my world to my friends. And if you are not my friend but a nosey person, I just don't know why you would want to know anything about my life anyway. I will share my latest projects, whatever my whimsical nature wants to do and my latest and greatest finds. I will be hunting the thrift stores and showing off my treasure hunting finds. I promise to make you jealous if you don't have a Trader Joes close by. Every week I buy something new there and most of the time it's a hit! And last but not least I will share motherhood with you. There will be lots of showing off and I need a whole blog post to discuss her obsession with watching birth videos. I am officially raising a freak. Stay tuned.....</div><div><br /></div>Surf Widowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11652207884297445777noreply@blogger.com5