Celebrate Summer with a Bouquet of Brightly Colored Tissue Flowers

When I was in grade school, the go-to "art project" around Mother's Day was always tissue carnations. Led by our art teacher, we'd take one Kleenex tissue and fold it back and forth like a fan. Then we'd get a green pipe cleaner and wire it around the middle of the folded tissue. Once it was tight, we'd start pulling open the plys of the tissue -- then our teacher would come around and spritz them with her perfume.
I can't even remember how many of those tissue carnations were given to Mom from me and my sister, but she enjoyed everyone of them.

Today, tissue pom-poms are trending at bridal and baby showers, wedding receptions and birthday parties. You see them all over Pinterest and Facebook. My niece had them hanging at her wedding, and thanks to that, I have a huge supply of tissue paper.

So, I decided to whip up some tissue flowers (half of a pom-pom) and make a brightly colored bouquet to set on the dining room table during the summer months. Now that Studio Sydney is all cleaned up, I can actually see what I have and where it all is. This is a fun and easy project to do with your children, grandchildren or the whole family.

What you need:

I had a pretty little bowl that looks like a watermelon, but the finished flowers can also go into a vase. You'll need tissue paper (not Kleenex, but the kind of tissue paper you use inside boxes when wrapping gifts) in any colors you choose, wire wrappers (like the kind used to tie up bread), skewers (or pipe cleaners) and scissors.

How it's done:

Step 1 -- Cutting the tissue
Each of my flowers is 8 layers thick and is 6.5 inches wide by 7.5 inches long. You can make yours whatever size you prefer. The larger the paper, the bigger the bloom. Remember that larger blooms will require more layers of tissue paper.

Step 2 -- Folding the paper
Starting at one of the 6.5 inch ends, begin folding the paper back and forth, like a fan or an accordion. Fold at 3/4 of an inch and it will come out even at the end.

Step 3 -- Attaching the wire
Attach the wire in the middle of the folded tissue and then round the ends cutting in a curve.

Step 4 -- Attaching the skewer
The skewer is attached simply by wrapping the ends of the wire around the top of the skewer. I used skewers, because I wanted the length, but you can also skip the skewers and wrap a pipe cleaner around the middle of the accordion.

Step 5 -- Unfolding the tissue paper
Very, very gently begin pulling the tissue layers apart from one another. Do all of the layers on one side, then repeat on the other side. The tissue paper is very thin, so be careful not to tear it, but don't have a heart attack if you do tear them; it's bound to happen. You can usually hide them.

Step 6 -- Fluffing out the bloom
Now make them all come to life by fluffing out the blooms and place in your container of choice.

See how easy they are? If everyone in the family makes one, you'll have a full bouquet in about 15-minutes.

 

 

I'm going to get the rest of my summer decorations down from the attic in a few days, but these are going on the dining room table tonight. I hope if you make them, you'll tell me about it. Enjoy!

 

 

Love you, Mom.

Studio Sydney - My Place for Re-nourishment

Is there someplace special you go - a physical location - to feel the presence of another person?
Like the presence of a loved one passed? Or the comfort of someone who's miles away from you?
Is it a particular chair? A room? Your church? The beach? A mountain top?
Is it a place where you find peace and tranquility?

I'm not at all embarrassed to admit that sometimes I need to chat with my parents. I'm sure all of you have experienced that same desire; to reach out to someone gone from this earth. Where I go to connect to my father and mother are two very different places, but at both locations I find peace.

Even though my parents are buried side-by-side, I only feel my father during my monthly visits to take new flowers to their graveside. That is where I'm able to talk to him and know that he's listening and ready to give advise (He was always ready to give advice. Dad had an answer for every question.) Maybe it's because he never stepped foot in this beautiful house in which we now live that I don't feel his presence in my home. Who knows? I just know that standing over his graveside is a place of peace for me.
Mother, on the other hand, is with me here. She's in every part of the house, but in particular still in what used to be her bedroom. Everything has been redecorated with new paint and new furniture, the clothes that were in her closet have been replaced with my cocktail dresses, and her double bed has been replaced with a queen for guests - yet she's still there. She's not at the cemetery; hers is an empty hole. So, it's to her bedroom where I go to talk about things that my husband tires of hearing, find solace and re-ground myself; my place of peace.

I also find comfort in my "Studio Sydney." It's not the kind of place to go for tranquility, because right now it's an explosive mess. But it's definitely my place of re-nourishment. I believe everyone should have a place to go to fuel their creative juices. Even if you think you aren't creative, I promise, you are.

I really shouldn't be admitting this online for the world (okay my close friends) to see, but this is what my studio looks like right now. (It's was actually worse that this picture shows.)

What a freaking mess.

Feeling energetic and ready to take on a new project (because the ba-zillion unfinished projects aren't enough), I walked into Studio Sydney this morning and realized why I haven't felt connected lately. Look at this mess! How can anyone think straight in this?
I've been neglectful (no kidding) in putting things away as I use them, and all too ready to start something new (can you say, "Squirrel!?"), when I haven't even finished what I was already working on. (I know. I've written about this problem I have in a previous post.) It looked like an atom bomb exploded in the northeast corner of my house.
It was time to re-organize and clean up, which is what then lead to the distraction of writing this blog (another squirrel).

I got to thinking about the emotions that are invoked when I am in certain places; how even the different rooms of my own home lead me to different feelings and discoveries within. For example, my small formal living room is a great place to crack open a book and sit and read; silence. My kitchen is definitely a place of electricity; I love to experiment, create and bake. Being in our camper/trailer sparks an excitement that takes me back to when I was a young Girl Scout; camping under the stars, telling ghosts stories, cooking on the underside of a giant tin can, and checking off requirements for badges. Bicycle riding equates to freedom.

I could go on and on.
The words at the top of the all in my craft room say it all.

But how about you?
What is your place of solace, peace, re-nourishment, re-birth?

Now that Studio Sydney is cleaned up and re-organized, I can concentrate on some of those unfinished projects, that I'll be sharing with you here on my blog. If you look closely, you can see them lined up on the desk.

 

Love and miss you Mom and Dad.

I Touched a Mexican Wrestler

Ha, ha.
I knew that would get your attention.
I did fist bump with a man dressed as a Mexican wrestler while in San Antonio, but that really doesn't have anything to do with this post, which is all about family.

After all the waiting, anticipating and planning, the Stith-Sheets-Steele Cousin Union has come and gone. The next time we get together, it will officially be a re-union.

Although not everyone who said they'd be making the pilgrimage actually made it, and although some just couldn't make it this time, I know I can say without a shadow of a doubt that I'm very thankful for the opportunity to have spent that week with my brother, sister, cousins and families. In particular, my brother, sister and I are closer than ever.

Our parents were siblings, born between 1904 and 1920, and raised in Southern Illinois. Their father (my grandfather) died in 1928, leaving their mother (my grandmother) with six children to feed, clothe, educate and raise as upstanding citizens. She did an incredible job, as all six of them grew into adulthood with good family values, impeccable work ethics, respect for others and a love for the Almighty.

When they were all grown and married, they grew apart physically; living in California, New Mexico, Illinois and Florida. But their love and support for one another never, ever wavered. The brothers lived in California and New Mexico and saw each other often. The sisters lived in Illinois and Florida and saw each other every summer. And when it came to their brothers, they were in lock-step to defend them.

It's that closeness that also confuses us.
They held a reunion in 1971 in New Mexico and then again in 1978 in Southern Illinois, but as far as any of us can recall, those are the only two times they were together after moving from Southern Illinois.
Why didn't they all get together more often?

We surmise it's simply a matter of logistics. "Back then" (or as my husband and I like to say, "Back in the days of yore"), air travel was quite costly and mainly limited to the elite, it was definitely too far to drive, and long distance phone calls were exorbitant. Plus they were all busy raising their own families. That left letter writing.

It doesn't explain why one of the cousins didn't know anything at all about the aunts or their children. And that's one of many questions that will remain unanswered, as our windows to our pasts have closed.

I thought there would be a lot of time spent reminiscing and chatting about our parents. I thought I needed that. But, instead, we spent time together - getting to know each other, showing photos of our families and talking about our children and grandchildren. It turns out, that's what I needed.

I didn't need to hear others telling stories about Daddy and Mom in order to feel closer to them; I needed to get to know my extended family.

One of us was worried that we'd sit around like old people and just talk. Well, that didn't happen. We strolled the River Walk, dined at restaurants, hiked caverns, drove through a safari, visited a local winery and more.

 

 

One cousin had family T-shirts made for each of us, one gave everyone a copy of an extensive history of the ancestry, one gave each of us a copy of the family crest, and one gave everyone a copy of a family tree drawn by an artist friend. It was a lot to take in.

 

On our final night together, we lit Japanese lanterns and released them into the night sky in memory or our family members who have passed.
Moving.
It was beautiful.

All in all, it was a great week, with laughter filling the spaces. Plans are now underway for us to do it all, again - in two years. We'll be heading to California, so those of you reading this who are part of the Stith/Sheets/Steele ancestry, keep an eye out for details.



I love you, Mom and Dad. I don't even need to say that I wish you had been there, because I know you were.