Pages

Sunday, May 26, 2013

All Good Things Carry Forward

Today marks eight-months since my mother passed away and my own life changed.
And wouldn't you know it, today is the day all of the blooms on her orchid dropped off the plant.
This orchid has been in bloom since about two weeks before she passed away! Isn't that phenomenal?
I used to grow orchids and I still have a few, but I've never had one remain in bloom that long.

So, I'm taking that as a sign -- one I haven't quite figured out all the way, yet. But here's what I've got, so far.
How lucky am I to have had this orchid fill my home with its beauty for more than eight-months?
How lucky and blessed am I to have had my mother in my life for nearly 60-years, caring and looking out for me?
How lucky am I to have had the honor and privilege to care for my mother and have her live with us for more than 10-years?
And how lucky am I to have learned so many things from my mother?

Some might say, "All good things must come to an end."
But to that I say, "All good things carry forward."

Mom taught me how to bake, so today, rather than wallow in my sorrow, I'm celebrating the gift passed from my mother to me, and I'm baking blueberry cupcakes.

I'd love for you to make them, too, because the recipe is an example of how my mother taught me that it's okay to just be me - color outside the lines, so to speak.

Blueberry Cupcakes


After going blueberry picking with my son and daughter-in-law, I had blueberries coming out of my ears -- more than five-pounds. So I quickly froze most of them and started looking for recipes. I found one, but decided it was way too much work with way too many ingredients, so I Sydney-ized it and came up with this:

What you'll need:

1/3 cup of heavy cream
vanilla cake mix
1/2-cup vanilla vodka
1/2 cup water
1/2 cup of vegetable oil
3 eggs
1 Vanilla bean
1 cup of blueberries

Set oven for 350-degrees. Prepare cupcake tins with papers.

1. Pour the heavy cream into a medium bowl and mix on medium speed for about a minute, then increase the speed to high until soft peaks form. Set aside.
2. Pour cake mix, vodka, water and vegetable oil into large bowl and mix on medium speed for about a minute.
3. Add eggs, mix well for about two minutes, scraping down bowl.
4. Slice the vanilla bean length-wise and scrape the inside of the bean out into the bowl. and Mix well.
5. Gently fold in the whipped cream.
6. Gently fold in the blueberries.

Using an ice cream scooper, scoop into muffin tins (making sure you have blueberries in each scoop) and bake for about 18-minutes or until golden on top.

Cool completely.

I frosted mine with cream cheese frosting:
8-ounces of cream cheese at room temperature
2 sticks of sweetened unsalted butter at room temperature
Mix well, then slowly add one box of 10-X powdered sugar (one-pound of confectioner's sugar).
Then add one-teaspoon of vanilla flavoring.

I piped the frosting on to  my cupcakes and added a blueberry as a garnish.

These cupcakes are so moist and delicious, but they wouldn't have been created were it not for my mother teaching me to be me and experiment in the kitchen.

All set for the Memorial Day picnic with our friends.

Thanks, Mom!

Wednesday, May 22, 2013

Recipe for a delicious Memorial Day picnic

Mother absolutely loved being what used to be called a "housewife." I have never seen anyone as proud as she was of her perfectly polished terrazzo floors, her fresh-smelling laundry after taking it all off the clothesline, or her crisply ironed everything we owned.

I never considered Mom to be obsessive about cleaning, but in looking back, maybe she was just a tad over the top at times. Like when she'd clean the house spotless - clean sheets on the beds, every dish washed, dried and put away, no dirty clothes anywhere and the outside completely swept - as we were walking out the door to go on vacation. She never wanted to come home to any kind of mess. I can't really say that I blame her. There's enough to do after returning from a one or two week vacation without having "leftovers."

And isn't it funny how the passing of traits goes; bits and pieces of the good and not-so-good going out like debris flying around in a tornado and haphazardly landing where it may. You never know where it's going to go; who's going to end up with what trait, or how far the apple will fall from the tree. My youngest sister is definitely most like Mom when it comes to house cleaning and organizing; her daughters laughing one time when they told me about an incident that involved a spot on the floor (and the spot winning). My oldest sister is the complete opposite, keeping her home tidy, but not the winner of any Good House-Keeping awards. My brother can be very picky about his things, particularly about his truck (although that could be just the story of a man and his truck, as opposed to genetics). And I guess I'm somewhere in the middle of it all; my house is very clean and organized, but it doesn't have to be that way at all times. In fact, since Mother passed away, there have actually been days when I didn't make the bed, and it didn't cause any nervous facial ticks. (Although, the key words there were "since Mother passed away." I can't say I'd have done that while she was living with us.)

Another thing that made Mom very happy was cooking. Daddy always said he taught her everything she knew. He was such a kidder and prankster that, to this day, I don't really know if that story's true, because Mom never actually denied it. Enjoying the kitchen is something that three of us inherited - my brother, younger sister and I. My older sister, well, not so much. She doesn't cook.

But that brings me to the reason for this post today. We have Memorial Day weekend coming up; a time when families and friends get together for some beaching, fishing and swimming. It marks the start of summer, so I thought I'd share the simplest of recipes with you to take to your cookout. It's a dip that's sure to please even the most discerning of foodies.

My mother made this dip for as long as I can remember, and none of us ever asked her how it was made. We just assumed it was an old family recipe that would be too difficult for us to master. Then one day, my niece very innocently asked her gramma, "How do you make this? Can I have the recipe?"

You could hear a pin drop.

Then Mom started laughing, more like a guffaw and pretty much uncontrollably. When she finally settled down, Mom shared the "family recipe" with all of us.

Here's what you'll need:
One package of cream cheese
One bottle of Catalina salad dressing

Yep, that's it. Take the cream cheese out of the fridge for about an hour to soften, then put it in a bowl. Add about a 1/4-cup of the Catalina dressing and then beat with an electric mixer until it's all blended and softened. If you want additional flavor, add more dressing.
That's it.
Absolutely delicious with chips and crackers, but Mom used to also put it on the curly, tubed inside of celery strips and it was yummy!


This photo was taken about three years ago when I was in the middle of helping Mom make scrapbook cookbooks to give to all of her children for Christmas. We were talking about the day my niece asked how to make the dip, when she once again was filled with laughter.


Here's the clincher to the story. This wasn't a recipe that had been handed down from her mother and her mother's mother, like we had all imagined. Mom got the recipe off the back of the label of the Catalina dressing bottle decades ago! How funny is that?

Every single person in our family loves this dip, and we all associate Mom with it. So, while it wasn't an old family recipe being passed down to a new generation, it was a 'new' family recipe that will go forward with all of us.

This is one of those "traits" we all retained from Mom -- and the deliciousness of that dip is an apple that hasn't even fallen off the tree, and likely never will.

Sunday, May 19, 2013

Technology Update

Since my last post http://alwaysonmymindforeverinmyheart.blogspot.com/2013/05/becoming-one-with-technologys.html, I have taken advantage of this cold-bug I have and became one with my cell phone.

Mother would be proud - I guess.

So, I have changed the settings within Facebook, turning off the annoying notifications, but turned them on for text messages.
I enlarged the size of the print for emails, and learned much more about the camera portion of the phone.
I figured out how to turn the screen so I can take a picture of my husband and me and see what I'm doing, and I figured out how to take video -- did it and emailed the video to myself.
I imported a new app - Instagram, but I think learning how to use it will take another sitting.
I emailed about 35 photos that I've taken with my cell phone to my personal email account and then saved them to my hard drive.
I looked at the calendar and decided that I'm still not ready to give up my Day-timer, but at least I looked at it.

That's where I stand right now as I happily learn new things about my phone other than making and receiving calls.

Who knew it could be fun?

I'm home alone today with this cold-bug, so now I'm going to get creative in Studio Sydney.

Friday, May 17, 2013

Still learning - Becoming one with technology's globalization

When it comes to today's technology, my mother would say, "I don't get it."
And I'd respond by saying, "Me, either, Mom. Anymore than I understand how we see television programs."

But even with her not getting it, she'd always follow along during conversations about the intricacies of laptops, cell phones, newspaper production, etc.
Even at 94 years of age, she understood the terms we used most often at the dinner table when talking about the day's events: tablets, smart phones, iPod, pagination, dummy clerk, Saxo, Facebook, skyping, etc. When she'd call me at work on Thursdays, she'd start off with, "Did you get your dummies on time? Are you finished paginating?"

Mother didn't use a computer or a cell phone, but she did love to read, and when she had completed one book, we'd make a trip to Sam's Club to buy another. (Sam's Club carried her favorite author, Debbie Macomber.) When I suggested we buy a Nook, she hesitated. The thought of using something she considered to be "high-tech" scared the bajeebies out of her. But when I showed her how easy it was to use mine, and how she could order the next book without waiting for me to take her to the store, she was ready, willing and able.
I must admit, it was so cute seeing Mother in bed with her Nook - it still puts a smile on my face.

Technology - where would we be today without it?

My cell phone buzzes all day long, notifying me of each and every little thing being said on Facebook, often vibrating right off my desk; something I've hated. Yet, it never has notified me when I receive a text message.
Not knowing enough about my phone to know where to begin to look within its settings to change that notification thing, or even to know there was such a thing as settings - I asked my son for help.
At which time, someone else asked, "How long have you had that phone?"

Hmmm...

At first, I was offended.
Learning how to use a smart phone takes undivided attention, in my opinion. Sitting and doing nothing else. Because of my nearly 60-years of multi-tasking, giving undivided attention to anything for any length of time is actually hard for me to accomplish.
I don't sit still. I'm a mover. I'm a doer.
I don't watch TV (other than a half-hour at 9 p.m. on Wednesday nights to watch Modern Family and the occasional overseas trip with International House Hunters). I sometimes have the television on in the background, while I'm sewing or painting - doing things.
I'm a doer. I don't sit around. I don't nap.
If I read, I'm reading while I'm on the treadmill or while I'm riding my stationary bike. I don't sit and read.
I'm a mover and doer.
I realize not everyone is like that, but I always have been.

Some might think I've avoided the "glory of technology" by moving into the 21st century kicking and screaming all the way. I don't entirely disagree. Technology scares the bajeebies out of me. Unlike the generation behind the Boomers, I was not born with a chip in my brain (maybe a chip on my shoulder, ha ha). I am, however, a quick study; can still learn how to do most anything in record-breaking time. But without user manuals, I'm a bit lost, apprehensive and, frankly, intimidated. Without taking notes, I have nothing to refer back to when I'm struggling with something.

So, when that person asked, "How long have you had that phone?" it took me back to when Mother hesitated to get a Nook, because she, like me, was intimidated by technology. And yet, look how we think using a Nook is so simple today -- probably the easiest of all things considered to be in the "high-tech" family.
Two things popped into my head: my lack of understanding regarding my mother's fears about using a Nook, and how this person lacked the same understanding of my same fears.

It happens all day, every day. "How can that person be that way?"
Judgements.
Rarely do we know what goes into the reasoning behind why a person is the way he/she is; why a person makes certain decisions; why a person avoids certain things, dresses a certain way or eats certain foods; why a person seems to refuse to learn something new.

It is with that realization - the asking of that simple question - that has helped me make the decision to set aside time two nights a week and learn something new about my cell phone.

I learned something new about myself just from someone asking how long I'd had the phone.
Imagine what I'll learn when I actually dive into it and become one with its globalization.

Mother, I don't get it, but I'm now willing to try.

Tuesday, May 7, 2013

The 90-year long dash. What's in your dash?

Disclaimer: This starts off sad, but doesn't stay that way.

1912-2002
When my father passed away and we were tasked with the duty of writing his obituary, I couldn't believe we had to condense his life into three paragraphs. So much had happened during those 90-years that dash represented.
He shared his small town doctor father and his mother with two brothers and a sister. Growing up in the hills of southern Illinois during those much simpler times afforded him the opportunity to live a fun and carefree childhood, one where he could leave home of a morning with some of his little buddies and not return until sundown, where he could go swimming in the creek or fishing in the river, where he could wander through the woods and find his way back home - all without worrying his mother.
He survived the Great Depression, worked the copper mines of New Mexico, built LSTs in Indiana during World War II, delivered gasoline to small gas stations in southern Illinois, loved his parents with all his might, married my mother and together raised a family of four children and (this is very sad, but not uncommon) lived in the shadows of his siblings, whom, according to all accounts I've heard, his parents favored.
My father loved to fish, loved to go boating, loved to laugh and be the prankster. He loved his life in southern Illinois, but also recognized a decision to leave his cherished homeland was going to be one of the most important decisions he'd ever have to make. And so, in 1957, our family was Florida-bound.

That's really where my memories begin, because I was three-years old when we moved to Florida and my younger sister was a newborn baby.

One of the stories I so badly wanted to include in Daddy's obituary was how he'd let my younger sister and me sit on the back of the sofa while he sat there watching television. Not really unusual, right? But what made those times so special to us is that while we were sitting over his shoulders, my dad would let us put his hair into little curlers. How many fathers would do that? When I think back to those times, I can see how silly he looked, but he didn't care.
Don't get me wrong, our lives were not perfect. We had our problems; Dad had his - but compared to so much of what we see today, it was charmed.

I could go on and on - all kinds of stories I would have liked to have included in his obituary, so it didn't sound as though he was "here today and gone tomorrow;" so many good things, learning opportunities, loving moments, struggles and more are included in that dash.

After he passed away, it was soon time for Mother to move in with us, and that same feeling came over me when she had a yard sale. The things my father treasured so much - his tools, fishing rods and reels, lawn equipment, and his massive collection of baseball caps - all meant very little to those cheap yard sale frequent flyers. I cried my eyes out when his caps, that he spent a lifetime collecting, ended up in a big box going to the local charity thrift store.

Fast forward to today.

You can probably guess where this is going, but I think you'll be pleasantly surprised by the ending.

I've spent the week cleaning out my mother's bedroom (very slowly going through one drawer at a time), and I'm back to thinking about how her 94-years have now been reduced to just a few boxes, packed up and ready to be donated to charity.
There is a bit of a difference this time, though. Thank goodness, Mother made things pretty easy for me. Before she moved in with us, she went through her life's treasures herself, decided who she'd like to give them to, and did it. She boxed up her silver service for my younger sister, gave her dining room furniture to my niece, gave a wooden cabinet made by my brother when he was a kid taking a shop class back to him, and so on. By the time she did move in with us, she had reduced her worldly goods down to what would fit in her new bedroom and living room.

After cleaning out Mother's dresser and closet and boxing up her things for charity, I went through a few of her containers of Christmas decorations and added more to the stack of boxes ready for the trip to the thrift store. I needed to then reorganize my garage, which Mom said I did way too often, so I'd have room for the boxes until I have the chance to put them in the truck and actually take them to the thrift store.

Here's the really cool thing that has happened all day.
Remember my post written on Feb. 5, 2013 entitled "The Red Bird Comes All Winter," and I talked about how the cardinal was my mother's favorite bird? http://alwaysonmymindforeverinmyheart.blogspot.com/2013_02_05_archive.html

All day today there have been two cardinals, a male and a female, following my every move. They were in the bush outside my mother's bedroom window this morning while I packed up her things. I needed to put the boxes in the garage, and when I opened the garage door to let in the beautifully cool breezes, the two cardinals were standing right there on our driveway!
The whole time I was in the garage, they were flitting between the small tree that sits right outside the garage door and the oak tree that's at the end of my driveway. And now I'm sitting on the back porch, and they are flying between the three cypress trees, stopping every once in a while to get some seed out of the feeder.

I feel as though both Mom and Dad have been right here with me all day, and that has made what I feared to be a daunting task so much easier.

                    Here's the male cardinal, but "Mom" wouldn't sit still long enough for me to get
                    her picture, which is pretty typical of Mother. She hated having her photo taken.

So, even though the remainder of my parent's "things" have now been packed into boxes taking up a relatively small space in my garage, 48 of my dad's 90-years and 58 of my mother's 94-years will forever be in my heart and on my mind. Their lives have not been reduced, but rather I'm bubbling over with tales and memories of the past. And someday, I hope to share those stories and more with grandchildren, extending the lives of my parents longer and farther. In the meantime, my son, who loved his grammpa and gramma with all his might, will continue to hear more of those stories.

Wednesday, May 1, 2013

The science of forensics

Have you heard of Theresa Caputo, the Long Island Medium?
To me, she seems to be an ordinary family woman -- with an extraordinary gift. She uses her powers as a spiritual medium to connect people with loved ones who have passed away. She actually has a television show on the TLC.
Before my mother passed away, I probably wouldn't have given Theresa Caputo or her show a second thought, but as I struggle with accepting my loss, I admit - I am more than interested.

A particularly weird and freaky thing happened to me this week, and thank goodness I have my colleague as a witness, or you probably wouldn't give this a second thought, either.

As the editor of a social magazine, I use many photos in the weekly publication -- many, many. And most of those photos are emailed to me, so I have to save them to a particular folder, which is then picked up by our pre-press department for toning and sizing for newsprint. (I know, a lot of technical jargon.) It's routine, so I rarely even look up at the screen while I'm doing it. I just basically click and save, click and save, click and save.
While saving a photo to the much-used folder this past Monday, I clicked on the Save button and just happened to look up at the screen. There on that screen were four pictures of my mother and me! I had never seen them, had no idea where they came from, when they were taken or why they suddenly popped up on my screen.
It freaked me out, and luckily my colleague was there to see it all.
Then, right before my eyes, the folder "disappeared" and the photo I was trying to save was saved.
For some strange reason, I caught a glimpse of the name of the folder the pictures of my mother and me were in -- 101MSCDF. But I didn't have time to react; I didn't have the time at that moment to go back and look for those pictures. It weighed heavy on my mind all that night, so yesterday I spent some time trying to find the folder and those photos.
Major fail.
Disappointed, I decided to email our I.T. Department and ask them to look for the pictures when they had a moment to spare, explaining the photos were of my mother who had passed away seven months ago, and I gave them what I remembered to be the name of the folder the photos were in.
This morning, someone from our I.T. Department did it. They found the photos! And I was finally able to take a close look at them and recall when and where they were taken.


I can see the photo was taken at a restaurant in the town to our south. I remember the night, and I think we were celebrating either my birthday or Mother's, but I can't remember for sure. I can tell from the bracelet I'm wearing the photo was taken about two years ago, because it's a bracelet I made at one of my monthly Craft Nights with my Crafting Sistas'. And my mother, who absolutely hated alcohol and never understood how anyone could acquire a taste for it, is sharing my martini - sipping it through a straw. (I'm sure it's the only sip she took - for the sake of the photo, perhaps.)

This weird and freaky thing caused me to pause, because, according to the person from our I.T. Department, the photos were on a drive that is located on a server that I do not have access to. (More technical jargon.) I do know the pictures were taken by my husband using my old Sony camera, and you can tell that by the name of the folder the photos were in. I upload photos from my camera nearly every day of the week, because it's my job to take pictures at all the events I attend. It's not unusual to see my photos stored on my work computer.

But how did these pictures get into that server that I don't have access to? We may never know.

Amidst all of this, my husband decided to go on a motorcycle trip with some of his buddies, knowing I hate being alone in this house now that Mother is gone. But, I'm taking the appearance of the pictures of Mom and me as a sign.

As much as I'd like to sit with Theresa Caputo, the Long Island Medium, and have my mother speak to me and tell me she's okay, I don't think I need Theresa today to know that my mother was speaking through these pictures.
And, just like it's a person's choice to believe in the "powers" of a medium, I choose to believe the sudden appearance of these photos was my mother's way of reminding me of all the fun we had together, reminding me to embrace those good memories and relish in the thought that perhaps I'm leaving the same legacy for my son.

I love you, Mom!

Friday, April 26, 2013

We worked, we laughed, we had lots of fun!

A crafter's poem....

Crafters are a funny bunch,
We'd rather craft than eat our lunch.
The housework, it can always wait.
It will be there on some other date.
No craft is left to be untried,
No creative thought to be denied.
Craft supplies - they're everywhere!
We're never caught without a spare.
Can our time be better spent,
Than practicing our creative bent?
Let it be said when we are done,
We worked, we laughed, we had lots of fun.
                                           by Debbie Garrett


My girlfriends and I all get together once a month, meeting at alternating houses, to craft.
At least, that's what we tell our families.
It's actually therapy for the soul - a little crafting mixed with a little wine and martinis and a lot of chatting. It's a great recipe for keeping our youth.

That's what Jane Fonda recently said when asked how she stays so young, "To stay young at heart, you have to have love in your life," Jane told People magazine. "For me, it's my women friends. They put starch in my spine and make me happy," she said. http://video.lycos.com/news/view/jane-fonda-friends-keep-me-youthful-77415/

We love our little group so much we named ourselves "Crafting Sistas'." And for me, nothing interferes with Craft Night.
Last night was April's Craft Night, and because our dear friend who was scheduled to host April's outing was unable to do so, I hosted it. I almost always "pin" our crafting results onto my Pinterest board, but this time I'm also blogging about it. It's another simple project that requires very little investment.

Frosted Mason Jars



You will need...


... A clean and dry mason jar. We had jelly jars, spaghetti jars, asparagus jars, etc. Any jar will do as long as it's clean and dry.
You'll also need:
Elmer's glue or Mod Podge, small paper cup, paint brush, acrylic paint of your choice, water and some kind of drop cloth.


To begin, put about a tablespoon of glue or Mod Podge into the paper cup and then add about a tablespoon of water. Mix well, then add your paint -- just a few drops. Mix well. It will be very runny.
 

Begin painting the mixture onto the outside of the jar. Be sure to lay out a drop cloth of some kind, because the mixture is very runny. The jar pictured took only one dip of the paint mixture using one of those sponge paint brushes. It takes very, very little. Remember to paint the bottom of the jar, also. When done, turn the jar over to dry.

That's it!
How easy is that?
 
 
Paint a few more jars.
Put a candle inside (best to use one of those new-fangled, battery-powered candles), tie a ribbon or raffia around the top and you have yourself a beautiful new centerpiece. We put handles on ours by wrapping wire around the rim and across the top.

Here's some important information to remember: The outside of these beautiful jars cannot get wet. The coating will wash right off -- which is actually a good thing if you're not happy with it and want to start over.


You can also coat your jars with just the glue/water mixture (no paint). Or you can add some colored tissue paper, then put another coat of the glue/water mixture on the outside of the jar.
I  made one with yellow and red tissue paper circles decoupaged onto the jar and another with strips of white tissue paper decoupaged onto the jar to make a Halloween ghost. After that one dried, I painted on black circles for the eyes and mouth and added ribbon to the top.

The ideas are limitless.

Much like my time crafting and creating, I value my friendships with those of like minds, hopes and dreams. My Sistas' have had my back for many years, never proving it more than during these past few months.

Enjoy and be the blessing.

Sunday, April 21, 2013

I have one just like that!

Isn't it a riot when someone says, "I have one just like that -- but it's different."?
I crack up every time I hear it.
But today, while browsing at Sams' Club, I saw something that made me say (in my head), "I have something just like that."

In all honesty, it's not even close.

What I saw was a wire basket-type container that had three little clay pots sitting in it and three herbs growing in the pots. Very, very cute.
What I actually have is a project that my father and I made together when he was in nursing home care because of Alzheimer's disease. As I've mentioned, the best way to keep him happy was to keep him busy and feeling needed. I would take projects with me when I'd go to the nursing home - which was every day - and say, "Daddy, I need your help with something I'm working on. Do you have time?"
And he'd always say, "Let me check with the boss."
Then he'd walk over to the nurse's station and ask them if they needed him for anything. They'd reply, "Not now. "
And he'd answer back, "Well then, it's quitting time."
Then we'd go to his room and set up our temporary painting studio.
I can't even remember all the things we made together: many painted clay pot projects, holiday ornaments and pins made from tongue depressors, pink flamingo ornaments made from bells and pipe cleaners, letter holders made from paper plates, and so much more.
I made the best of the time we had together. It was the only way to cope.

So when I saw the three clay pots at Sam's Club, it reminded me of the three pots Dad and I painted, even though they are not even remotely alike. And I thought I'd show you how to make them.
When I returned home, I rummaged through the shelves in my garage until I found the remaining painted pots. We had made several sets, some using the smaller 4-inch pots and some using the larger 5-inch pots. I've had them for about 12-years, and when I thought of them while at Sam's Club, I decided to buy some small plants and re-pot them.


They're cute, aren't they? Obviously one is a bumble bee, one a frog and the other is a ladybug.
They'd be fun to make this summer with your children and grandchildren.

To make them, you need the following supplies: red, black, yellow, white, light green, dark green and pink acrylic paints (craft paint), three clay pots (you decide the size) and the partner trays, three 4-inch wooden hearts, two 1-inch wooden disks, three wooden dowels or picks, masking or painter's tape, hot glue gun, thin black marker and paint brushes.

For the Ladybug:

Begin by painting one clay pot, one clay tray and the front and back of one wooden heart with red paint. Paint both sides of one wooden disk with black paint. Set all pieces aside to dry. You may want to paint a second coat.

Once dry, mark where you'd like your black dots to go on the pot and then paint the ladybug's black dots, approximately one-inch in diameter, on to the pot. If you'd like, you can paint the word "ladybug" across the top of the pot. You see I did that on the smaller pot, but my father did not do that to his.

Set aside to dry and begin painting the ladybug made from the wooden heart that's been painted red on both sides.

Using this image as an example, decide where you'd like your ladybug's spots to go on the red painted wooden heart and paint them on using the black paint and a 1/4-inch paint brush. Using the thin black marker, outline the shape of the wooden heart in a squiggly line about an eighth of an inch in from the edge, and then do the same down the middle of the red heart.
On the black wooden disk, paint two little white ovals, then paint two black dots for the eyes.
When dry, hot glue the ladybug's head to the bottom (pointed end) of the wooden heart.
Attach the wooden pick or thin wooden dowel to the back of the ladybug using hot glue. Remember to make the pick long enough to insert into the dirt when pot is planted.

Okay your Ladybug pot is finished.

Now on to the Bumble Bee:

Begin by painting one clay pot, one clay tray and both sides of one wooden disk with yellow paint. Paint both sides of a wooden heart with white paint. Set all pieces aside to dry. You may want to paint a second coat.

Once dry, you will paint three stripes around the yellow pot using black paint. You can mark your stripes using the painter's tape, or you can paint them freehand. I painted mine (and so did my dad) freehand.

Set aside to dry and begin painting the bumble bee made from the wooden heart that's been painted white on both sides.

Using this image as an example:
Begin with the wooden disk that's been painted yellow and using the thin black marker, draw two circles for the cheeks, a smile that is connected at both cheeks and a dimple in the chin. Paint the cheeks pink and paint a tiny pink dot in the middle for a nose. Paint two black dots for the eyes and set aside to dry. When dry, paint a tiny white dot inside each black eye and a tiny white dot inside each pink cheek.
When all is dry, hot glue the bumble bee's head to the top of the wooden heart.
Now you'll begin to paint the bumble bee's body. Using the thin black marker and the example above, draw on the white wooden heart the shape of the bee's body, and then paint it yellow.
When completely dry, paint black stripes on the bumble bee's body.
When completely dry and using the thin black marker, draw tiny lines coming out of the black stripes. Then also using the thin black marker, outline the edge of the wooden heart with a thin squiggly line.
Attach the wooden pick or thin wooden dowel to the back of the bumble bee using hot glue. Remember to make the pick long enough to insert into the dirt when pot is planted.

You have finished making your Bumble Bee pot.

Now the frog:

Begin by painting one clay pot, one clay tray and the front and back of one wooden heart with the lighter green paint. Set all pieces aside to dry. You may want to paint a second coat.


The frog's feet are painted at the bottom of the lighter green pot. Using the darker green paint, paint on two one-inch circles and let dry completely.

When completely dry, paint three tiny little white dots onto the darker green spots. That's the frog's "toes." If you'd like, you can paint the word "ribbet" across the top of the pot.

Using this image as an example:
Begin with the wooden heart that's been painted the lighter green. Decide where you'd like the division between the frog's eyes and chin to be and paint that curved line using a 1/4-inch brush and the darker green paint. Using the same brush and darker green paint, paint three-quarters of the way around the rounded parts of the heart. This will form the spacing for the eyes. Decide where you'd like the frog's freckles to go and still using the darker green paint, paint on three dots to be his freckles. Using pink, paint on two dots that are a little larger than the freckle dots for the frog's cheeks. Using white and using the example shown above, paint on the frog's eyes. When completely dry, paint a black dot inside each of the two white eyes. And when completely dry, put a white dot inside each black eye, three tiny white dots in each of the pink cheeks and three tiny little white dots inside each of the three freckles.
Attach the wooden pick or thin wooden dowel to the back of the frog using hot glue. Remember to make the pick long enough to insert into the dirt when pot is planted.

Now you have three of the absolute cutest pots known to mankind.

I'm still amazed with how such a simple sighting can bring back such wonderful memories. Those potted plants I saw in Sam's Club weren't anything at all like the ones my father and I made together, yet it is that sighting that sparked the fire that drove me to dig those projects out of the darkness of my garage and into the light of my kitchen - and write tonight's blog post.
Although my father was in the midst of this horrible disease known as Alzheimer's, and we were all in the middle of our painful and long goodbye, we made the best of those times.

I miss you, Daddy and love you with all my heart.

Thursday, April 18, 2013

Be the blessing

Lecture:
One thing I've learned through this process of loss and loneliness -- there aren't many people who really want to hear about it. In other words, those who are willing to help you through to the brighter side are few and far between, whether it's your friends or members of your own family.

In the beginning everyone says, "If you need anything, call." Or, "If you ever need to talk about it, I'm here for you." But you're in such an overwhelming place at that time, all you want is to be alone. Later, though, when you're ready to talk about things, when you do realize that it's going to take the help of others to dig you out of your hole, not many - if any - of them are there for you.

Maybe it's because they don't know what to say. Maybe it's because you've overstayed your "welcome." Maybe it's because they are going through their own thing and really can't bear to hear about yours. And maybe it's because they can't and probably never will understand the loving relationship you had with the one who passed.

Some of my friends are of the belief that there's been enough time since Mother passed that I should be "over it," should have "moved on with my life" by now. So, I find myself traveling in some new territory; me wanting to be patient with them, while I'm wishing they would be patient with me. How's that for a twist?

So, in conclusion -- if there is someone you love going through the loss of a loved one, or going through anything that is diifficult to master on their own, figure out how to help and truly be there for them. Don't let them dig deep into an abyss of loneliness. Don't take "No" for an answer from them. Be persistent, be the friend they need, be the blessing.
(Full disclosure: One very good friend did spend several hours with me the other evening, and for that I am eternally grateful.)

Lecture over.

On the lighter side of my own hole, I've been longing for my mother to come to me in my dreams. While I've had dreams about her, and she's been present in them, I've not actually seen her. That, in and of itself, has caused me great pause.

But, last night, she was there. I don't remember what the dream was even about or if there was an actual story to the dream -- but I do know that she finally came to me and held me, and I held her and I kissed her over and over again.

I sure needed that.

Ahhh!

My journey is far from over, but Mother visiting me last night put me in a much more peaceful place today.

Ahhh!

Monday, March 25, 2013

The whole world would be a better place with cheerleaders like my Mom

It's been six months since I last heard her voice. Unfortunately, at that time, it was her calling out for me to do something about her pain. I wish her last words could had been "I love you."

My own words will never express how much I miss my mother. I recently told a friend that regardless of the fact that I'm nearly 60 and Mom was 94, I never imagined my life without her in it. That thought honestly never occurred to me. Even when she was so sick three years ago, it didn't enter my mind that one day I'd be lost without her.

It's been six-months since I returned to my bedroom to change my clothes, because Mom had looked me up and down and then greeted me with, "You're wearing that?" Now-a-days, I do it to myself and think twice before I get dressed.

It's been six-months since I gave her a shower, shampooed her beautiful, shiny silver hair (thank goodness I have those genes) and then carefully blow-dried it out into her signature bob. We both used to joke about how that could be my 'Plan B;' if I was ever unemployed and needed work, I could be a hairdresser, but only for women with bobs. We'd laugh about that, because every time I did her hair, she'd be so proud. No one could get her hair as puffy as I could. Everyone should have a cheerleader like my mom. The whole world would be a better place.

It's been six-months since we ran over each other in the kitchen. In fact, I used to get upset, because that darn walker would be in the way and I'd trip over it at least two or three times a week (you can tell just by looking at my mangled toes). I'd give anything to trip over it, again. The pain from my broken toes is nothing compared to this.
Mother's place was in the kitchen (or behind an ironing board - yes, she loved to iron). She'd have dinner waiting for my husband and me every evening; until about two years ago when she began to tire more easily. Then she started fixing dinner only once in a while. Still, when I'd have parties, Mom would be in there helping me with new recipes and cheering me on when I'd decide at the last minute to add something else to the menu. That's when she'd say, "You're going to do wonders and eat green cucumbers," doubting that I could get it all done. Little did she know that I actually took that strange quote to be words of encouragement.

It's been six-months since we last drooled over the recipes created on "Cupcake Wars" and marveled at the celebrity and professional dancers on "Dancing with the Stars." We'd play the part of the judges for both of those - our two favorite shows that I always made time to watch with her. In fact, on the night before she passed away, it is Dancing with the Stars that we were watching when my mother fell asleep pain free for the last time. Little did I know that the next time she'd awaken, it would be to cry out in pain and that would be the last time I'd see her with her eyes open.
I'm so proud, though, that Mom got to see me dance in a similar show held locally for charity. I danced the Tango, and Mom was my biggest fan. Every time I'd overhear her on the telephone with someone, she'd be telling them about me dancing. That was fun. And when I took her to the same event a year later (only two weeks before she passed away), she insisted that no one danced the Tango as well as my partner and I had danced the year prior. Everyone should have a cheerleader like my mother. The whole world would be a better place.

It's been six-months since we had 'family-day' at Sam's Club. I know how odd that sounds, but my husband and I included Mother in everything we did, and that included our Sunday shopping at Sam's.
My husband would often go in one direction with the grocery cart, and Mother, in her wheelchair, and I would go in the opposite direction - me loading things onto her lap.  On one such visit, I had put so many things in her lap, that you could barely see the top of her head over the pile. And yet, we managed to make additional room for a frozen pizza and a bottle of wine. It was the absolute funniest sight, and so many people waiting in line laughed. Mother was tickled and laughed about it all the way home.

It's been six-months since we spent Saturday together doing whatever we wanted to do: going to the Farmers' Market, visiting the cemetery, shopping, getting manicures and pedicures, going to fashion shows and teas, going to the movies, whatever it was -- we did it together.

It's been six-months since she showed me her beautiful knitting or cross-stitch projects -- literally six-months. The evening before she passed away, Mother went through her knitting bag, showing me the cross-stitch ornaments she had completed for 2012 and some other things she had made. I hope that one day I'm able to talk about that night with my younger sister. I need to tell her and she needs to hear it, but she isn't ready and I'm patient. It was a joyous few hours, though.
Mother could knit. She made me some sweaters that I'll keep forever, even though they no longer fit. She won a blue ribbon at our local fair for a sweater she made me, and then won one the following year for an afghan. Mom did it all. She sewed, teaching me when I was in fifth-grade, and later teaching my younger sister.

It's been six-months since Mom kept me company while I worked in the yard. I was never alone; Mom always sat with me, keeping me company, and often saying how she wished she could help.
When we were growing up in Miami, my dad worked long hours, so there were times when Mom also did the yard work. (Again, full disclosure -- While working in the yard, mowing, pulling weeds, etc., she'd wear these horrible tube tops that she made out of old dish towels and elastic - nothing went to waste. I was so embarrassed when my friends would come by and she'd be out there sweating in those tops. Oh to be embarrassed like that, again.)

It's been six-months since we all went camping together. Yes, my 91 to 94-year old mother went camping with us and loved it. She was so happy that when we bought our little trailer, we bought one with her in mind. I have the best husband in the world. Not many would do what he did for more than 10-years.

It's been six-months since we sat out on the back patio, looking up at the clouds and told each other what we saw in those clouds. Only two days before Mom passed away, she saw frogs leaping over each other and I saw an alligator.

It's been six-months since I kissed her "Good-night" and told her that I loved her, tucked her in for a cozy night's sleep, and then listened for her every movement through the baby monitor that I kept right by my head at night. (Full disclosure - the sounds of her moving around with her walker still awaken me at night.)

It's been six-months since I heard her voice, felt her touch, saw her smile and tasted her meatloaf.

It's been six-months since I accomplished anything - period.
Mother was the purpose to what used to be a very driven life. When you are given the kind of encouragement my mother gave me, why wouldn't you be driven? I just didn't realize it at the time. I didn't always take her words as encouragement, but rather I'd sometimes get frustrated by those words - thinking she was finding fault. That was never the case. I see it now.

Every person should have a cheerleader like my mother was to me. The whole world would be a better place. My bet is that many of you do, and you just don't realize it.
I pray I am that to my son and his wife.
Sure, time has softened the pain - somewhat - but I surely doubt that there will ever be a day, even an hour that I don't think about my mother.

Friday, March 22, 2013

That takes the cake!

From this:
 
 
You can make this:

For these:

I went to a local thrift store and picked up some old plates (one of these is bone China) a water goblet and a candlestick.
I brought them home and used epoxy to attach them together.
Now I can deliver my Dessert-of-the-Month to the birthday girl and not worry about getting my cake plates back. :)

FYI -- Lemon cupcakes filled with white chocolate, frosted with fresh blackberry buttercream and garnished with a fresh blackberry
- and -
Triple chocolate layered cake, fresh raspberry filling, frosted with fresh chocolate (from Nicaragua) icing, topped with fresh Florida strawberries, and garnished with white chocolate - all built inside a rolled wafer wall and tied together with a yellow ribbon.



Wednesday, March 20, 2013

From Something Bad Comes Something Great

The newspaper for which I work printed my article, which was also my last blog post about Glen Campbell and his decision to allow a feature/documentary film to be made about his struggle with Alzheimer's disease.

I was so honored when I opened the paper to the Opinion Page and saw my article featured. Key word there -- Opinion. Something some of the bravest men and women in this great country of ours  have fought to keep: the freedom to express one's opinion.
But it seems my opinion about the need to put a face to the disease and about how others before Glen could have done the same, but chose not to, ruffled a few feathers, and in so doing, I was accused of being anti-American for saying "such inappropriate things about the greatest American to live, President Ronald Reagan."
When I first heard about the Facebook war being waged against me, I was stunned, as nothing in my post was ever intended to be taken that way. And when a friend shared the postings with me (I'm not a FB friend with the instigator), I was - frankly - devastated. I chose not to comment on any of his rantings, because I didn't want to feed his ego. I took the high road, but it surely felt like the road less traveled for a while.

I've since realized something: A week earlier I attended a luncheon at which this same man (the instigator) sat right next to me. Now, I'm a very fortunate person in that often times I'm treated quite well when I attend some of the many fundraising events in my community. I keep it all in perspective, because I know it's my title and not myself that often draws the attention, and that's okay. Because of my job, I've been able to help so many non-profits garner more attention to their missions, and that's -- as Martha Stewart says -- a good thing. The instigator is likely used to the same type of attention when he attends events, as he has a small radio show in his small town.
On this particular day, I attended this luncheon, because it was going to be the featured story on the cover of my publication's next edition, and everyone there knew it -- so everyone eventually made their way over to my table to meet and greet. It was very nice and welcoming, but I did notice the man who would become the instigator had a pouty face on. Of course, I didn't realize it at the time, but now I wonder if the lack of attention towards him was the true cause of his ruffled feathers.
Just wondering.

I'm pretty sure the instigator has now gone on to stir the pot on other issues. I don't listen to his radio show -- his air waves don't reach me.

Here's the really good news from that day, though.
The event was the Women of Distinction awards luncheon to benefit the Girl Scouts of Southeast Florida, and it was held in a neighboring county. When I asked why they didn't do something similar in 'my county,' the reply was they couldn't get anyone interested.
I was a Girl Scout for many years, and my mother was either the leader or the assistant leader of my troops for most of those years. I loved scouting and - along with my parents - attribute much of who I am today to scouting.

I do believe Mom was speaking to me that day when I was told they couldn't get anyone interested in 'my county.' And she spoke to me for days following. So, in response, I have decided to chair a similar event to be held this time next year to also benefit the Girl Scouts. I'm positive this is what Mom wants me to do to pull myself out of the hole I've been stuck in.

So, you may be hearing from me real soon. I'm going to need as many of you as possible to help me out on this one, and I can't wait to get started.

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

Rhinestone Cowboy - Living Legend and Icon

Glen Campbell is to be applauded.

This is not about his numerous Grammy and Academy of Country Music awards, his 70 released albums or his 50 million in record sales.

Country legend Glen Campbell, diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease two years ago, has made the conscious decision to live out his life doing what he does best and what he enjoys most. In the process, Glen Campbell, his wife Kim and their grown children have put an iconic face to Alzheimer's disease.

Others before him could have done the same, but chose not to. And I can't help but wonder how much more time and resources would have been spent on research for drugs and an end to the disease that steals minds and memories if American greats the likes of Ronald Reagan and Charlton Heston had done the same. Certainly we would be at least 20-years ahead of where we are today in the discovery of new drugs. But, after being diagnosed, former President Reagan and Mr. Heston chose to live the remainder of their lives basically in solitude. They had the opportunity to help countless others by becoming a voice for those with the disease and for those caring for loved ones with Alzheimer's or other forms of dementia. But, instead of putting a face on a disease that most likely will affect every family in the United States by the year 2030 (only 17 short years away), Ronald Reagan and Charlton Heston chose only to write letters to the American public that held each of them in high esteem.


I had the honor and privilege last night (March 12, 2013) to attend "Untitled: Glen Campbell Documentary" at the Riverside Theatre in Vero Beach. It was the "unveiling" of a new feature/documentary film to be released - hopefully - by the end of the year. The event was a fundraiser for the Alzheimer's Drug Discovery Foundation (ADDF), at which segments of the unedited film were viewed by an audience of about 900.
James Keach (Walk the Line and Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman) and Trevor Albert (Caddyshack and Groundhog Day) are behind the film that will raise awareness and funds for ADDF and its continued efforts in the discovery of drugs to prevent, treat and cure Alzheimer's disease.
 
"This is not a movie about Alzheimer's - rather it's a movie about an extraordinary man who's been diagnosed with it and has taught us to live in the moment as a result," said Mr. Keach.
 
The Alzheimer's Drug Discovery Foundation is led by co-chair Leonard A. Lauder of the Estee Lauder Co. In fact, it is the Estee Lauder Co. that pays the overhead associated with running the foundation that has invested more than $60 million to fund 400 drug research programs in 18 countries. Therefore, 100-percent of every dollar donated goes directly to Alzheimer's drug research and discovery.
 
After the film, Victoria Ghost, a country/roots band comprised of two of Glen and Kim's children Ashley and Shannon and Kiefo Nilsson, took to the stage and played several songs before Glen, who had been obviously chomping at the bit to get on stage, joined them. He, on guitar, and Ashley, on banjo, played "Dueling Banjos" as the audience stood and cheered them on.
 
Glen Campbell is an inspiration. His diagnosis has not wavered his passion for music and performing, and his family perseveres through it all. Finally, there is someone willing to put a face to this awful disease.
 
 
I applaud Glen Campbell and his family for this bold move. Others before him should have done the same.
Glen Campbell is an icon.
 

Monday, March 11, 2013

Just like Pooh, I'm stuck, too.

I think it's time for more family-fun crafting. Don't you?
Quite a few of you sent me emails and Facebook comments about the little yellow chicks made from clay pots, so here's another fun craft made with a clay pot.

Remember Winnie The Pooh? One of Pooh's misadventures was getting stuck in Rabbit's hole. Rabbit tries to push and push and can't get Pooh out. Well, consider this craft Rabbit indulging in his stash of honey and now, he's the one who's stuck.
How cute is this little "Rabbit Stuck in a Hole?"

This is another craft I took to the nursing home for my father (who had Alzheimer's disease) and me to work on together. Like I've said, it always made him feel as though he was being helpful, and it made our time together go so much more smoothly. We always made enough of whatever we were working on to give to others; both in and out of the family.

Here's what you'll need for one "Rabbit Stuck in a Hole:"
One 3-inch clay pot        One 3-inch Styrofoam ball
Elmer's glue                    White acrylic paint
Yellow acrylic paint        Pink acrylic paint
1-inch paint brush           One stippling brush
One 1-inch diameter pom-pom
small piece of white felt
small piece of pink felt
small amount of green "Easter" grass
paper plate
 
 
 
Let's get started...
 
 
Put a generous glob of white paint onto the paper plate and paint a little more than half of the Styrofoam ball. Because the Styrofoam ball is so porous, it will take a bit of paint. Set aside to dry.
 

Put a small amount of both the yellow and the pink paint on the paper plate, and begin to stipple the outside of the clay pot with both colors. Set aside to dry.


Using the white felt, cut out the bottom of the rabbit's feet. The three-toed feet are a little less than 2-inches long and about 1 1/2-inches wide. Then cut out six 1/4-inch diameter pink felt circles and two 1/2-inch diameter pink felt circles. Glue the pink circles onto the two white felt feet as shown and set aside.


Once the clay pot has completely dried, apply a ring of Elmer's glue around the inside of the clay pot, approximately a 1/4-inch from the top. Lay the Easter grass inside, then apply a second ring of glue and lay the Styrofoam ball inside -- making sure the painted side of the ball is facing up.

At this point, to some of you, it may resemble an ice-cream cone, but to me, it's definitely going to be a silly rabbit that got stuck in a hole.


Glue the white pom-pom slightly off center. Then glue the two feet just below the rabbit's tail.
You've just completed your "Rabbit Stuck in a Hole." And like I say to all my Crafting Sistas each month, "It's your project, so paint the pot whatever color you want to paint it. Make it a brown bunny instead of a white one; or put moss around the edge of the pot instead of Easter grass.

Anyway you look at it, he's really cute. Be sure to sign and date the bottom of the pot.

Sometimes I feel a little like Pooh and like that rabbit you just made -- I feel a bit stuck right now in my life. I'm not exactly here or there. I'm stuck in the middle of no man's land. I'm not sure where to go in my life, and I'm not even sure I know what my options are or if I even have any. I look around and see God using others all around me. The use of their talents astounds me. I'm waiting it out until ....well, I don't know when.

So I keep plugging along...and praying...and asking God to get me "unstuck." I  wonder how God finds me useful at the moment. I'd like to think that maybe some of my words on my blog resonate with someone who reads them or that my "day-job" helps others. But right now, I find things to be frustrating; not going anywhere.
 
I'm waiting to get unstuck right now. I'm tapping my head like Winnie the Pooh and saying, "Think, think, think!" So far, I'm still stuck in no man's land waiting for the pudge to budge.
 
In the meantime, I'm going to keep plugging away at my blog, because its healing power is good.
 
Happy crafting, happy Easter, and most important, happy family-time! Cherish every moment of it.

Friday, March 1, 2013

Time for Some Spring Family Fun My Little Chick-a-dee

How about a little crafting?

This is something you can enjoy with your children or grandchildren -- or in my case -- I enjoyed with my father while he was in nursing home care because of Alzheimer's disease. Spending quality time with family is a rewarding experience, the benefits of which pay off for years to come. Spending time with your children or grandchildren is so much more important than spending money on them, and this is an inexpensive craft to do together.

Each evening after work for 15-months, I stopped at the nursing home and took something for my dad and me to do together. It was usually an easy crafting project that included painting clay pots. He really enjoyed it -- it made him feel as though he had work to do and he was being helpful. I enjoyed spending that time with him each night, and it gave my mother a break.
Spending time with your loved one that's afflicted with Alzheimer's disease is priceless -- all you need to do is find something you can both enjoy doing together -- engage your loved one and the time with them will be time well spent.

I have quite a few of these cute little projects that Dad and I did, and I use most of them as Easter decorations.

Here's the first one I'm going to show you how to make:
My cute little Easter Chick made from a clay pot, clay tray and wooden hearts.
 
 
 
 
Gather your supplies. To make one clay pot Easter Chick you will need the following supplies:
One 2 1/2-inch clay pot
One 4-inch clay tray that goes with clay pot
2 wooden hearts that are about 3/4-inch in diameter and about 1 1/4-inches long
yellow acrylic paint
blue or turquoise acrylic paint
pink acrylic paint
white acrylic paint
one yellow fluffy feather
8-inch piece of yellow satin ribbon
black thin marker
orange marker
1-inch paint brush or foam painter
One Q-tip
hot-glue gun
 
 
Paint the outside of the clay pot yellow and set aside to dry.
 
Paint the entire wooden hearts yellow and set aside to dry.
 
Paint the inside and the outside of the clay tray either turquoise or blue. 
When clay pot, tray and hearts are completely dry, apply a second coat of paint to each and set aside to dry.
 
On a paper plate, squeeze out a little bit of the white paint and then squeeze out a little daub of the pink paint. Using the end of a small paint brush, dab the end into the pink and make a dot on the outside of the completely dry tray. About a half-inch away, make a white dot. Continue in this pattern until you have painted dots all the way around the tray.
Set aside to dry.
 
Using the thin black marker, outline one side of each completely dry heart and set aside. You can outline the hearts with a solid line, or you can make it look like stitching by drawing tiny little lines around the hearts.
 
Using the thin black marker, draw two tiny little beady eyes.
Right below and right between the eyes, draw the beak - an inverted triangular shape.
Fill the beak using the orange marker. 
To make the cheeks, put a little of the orange marker on the cotton end of a Q-tip and lightly rub the Q-tip on each side of the beak.
 
Heat up your hot-glue gun.
Make a small bow using the yellow satin ribbon and glue it onto the Chick right underneath the beak.
Glue the hearts onto the Chick on each side and slightly above the eyes, making sure the outlined side is facing out.
 
Then glue the fluffy yellow feather inside the drainage hole of the painted clay pot. You don' t have to, but you can put some Easter grass in the tray, then put the Chick on top and guess what?
You're done!
 
How cute are these little gems? I'll tell you...they are super cute!

I had my dad sign his...he wrote the date and my mother's name. You can do the same by having your children sign and date them, then you can give the Chicks to your children as gifts when they celebrate Easter with their own children.



My dad and I did these together on March (I know it looks like an 8, but he had some trouble writing) 15, 2001.

Fun, Fun times!