Scrap Girls Digital Scrapbooking Adventures

My life as a fisherman...

I love to fish. Many of you know that already. It is a sport that I have always enjoyed. I grew up on the north shore of Long Island, New York, and my summer days were spent soaking up the sunshine on a small, private beach at the end of our block. My sisters and I would do our morning chores and then pack up our gear to get to the water as quickly as we could before the sun hit the highest point in the afternoon sky.

Fishing was rather archaic when we were kids. We couldn't afford to buy our own bait, so we caught it by hand. This meant finding mussels, smashing them open with a rock, and holding the crushed mollusk in our open hand as we stood knee deep in the cool waters of Oyster Bay, waiting for a minnow to swim into our trap. Once we had a handful of shiners, we'd quickly snatch our hands out of the water, hoping to have caught at least one for which to bait our hooks. My sisters and I would fish for hours in this fashion; catching shiners and then fishing with them until we ran out or the minnows stopped feeding due to the tidal flow. Some days, we were lucky enough to catch dinner. Yet others, the shiners were our best catch of the day. With our backs red and sunburned, we either went home elated or slightly disappointed, but never dejected.

These days, hundreds of miles from where I grew up, my love of fishing has not abated. I wait for the first day that the ice retreats from the Minnesota waters and the temperatures warm up just enough to shed the parka. Fresh water fishing is not quite the same as salt water fishing, but still, the thrill of catching a fish, ANY fish, whether it is by hand or by pole, results in the same feeling. It is a feeling I can't describe, unless of course you fish. Do you fish? I fish. But I know you know that by now.

This bass was among my first of the 2008 season.

A Day Away from the Computer

On Monday mornings I am usually sitting at my desk in my home office and making a to-do list for the week. Everything from design projects, emails, groceries, chores, and people are on my mind. Although I love my home life and my work life, sometimes we all just need a break to get our batteries recharged. My little vacation came during the middle of April.

Recently, our good friend from Denver came to visit us. It was the most fun Jeff and I had had in a while. It was as much of a vacation for our pal as it was for us. Among the things we did that weekend were visit The Holy Land Experience, ate awesome sushi and Vietnamese food, saw the Blue Man Group at Universal, cooked some yummy meals at home, and went fishing.

The fishing trip came early Monday morning and after a long weekend of going out and staying up until the wee hours enjoying good conversation with red wine and dark chocolate. The day was much longer and colder than we thought it’d be. Instead of a beautiful, sunny Florida morning in the 60s, early that morning in April the temperatures had taken a dip into the 40s, coupled with a boisterous wind and sun that played peek-a-boo all day. It didn’t really get any warmer.

As I stood out there, firmly clutching my sweatshirt and bracing myself against the nippy wind, I couldn’t help but smile and enjoy the fresh air and serene environment around me. The blue sky that seemed endless in the open horizon was a rejuvenating sight and a much welcomed break from the computer monitor which I usually stared into during the typical weekday. But, here I was on a Monday, enjoying quiet time in the middle of a beautiful lake. Even though by the time we got back to shore, we were cold to the bone, sunburned and starving, the three of us remembered the fishing trip as one of the highlights of our wonderful week together.

Fast-forward three weeks to today and I’m back at my desk, preparing for another week. But, it’s OK. I love what I do. I had my fun time and now it’s work time. Even at this moment, as I sit here staring into the computer monitor and starting my to-do list, my darling husband and Shih Tzu puppy, Boaz, are playing a very loud game of fetch in the living room. What would life be without a balance of both?

Photos by Dad

I am one fortunate girl. For the obvious reasons - a hubby who loves me and four great kids. But who knew that my dad would embark on his dream career after he retired? And that his dream career would complement mine? My dad is a photographer who provides me with an almost unlimited amount of great photos to use to my heart's content!

The funny thing is that, growing up I wanted to throw his cameras out the window because he was constantly following us around taking photos. Now, I am sure you can all imagine a teenager not being too happy about having photos of her eating or with big old rollers in her hair plastered all over the house. And now? I love those photos! I love the look of irritation on my face, the rolling of my eyes - all of it! It makes me laugh and sometimes cry.

I love all the photos of my newborn babies, the close-ups of their tiny fingers and toes, the look of utter contentment. These photos bring back not only the feelings of awe that I was experiencing at the time, but how magical it was to share it with my dad and mom. I can see so much love through the lens of my dad's camera. I will be forever grateful to my dad for sharing his love of life captured one picture at a time.

Cooking for two (or ten)

Imagine her surprise when my girlfriend came over and asked what I was cooking. "Something for the dog" I replied. By "the dog" I mean my neighbor’s dog who has just had nine puppies. I was making a large pot of rice and peas (rice and peas is Caribbean-speak for rice and beans) sans seasoning.

"I can’t imagine a life without seasoning," she mused, gazing into the clay pot.

"Well, I can’t imagine cooking just for a dog."

Yet, here I was, tending to a meal for my four-legged friend. She didn't ask any more questions because she has lived here long enough to know that when living on a tiny island food is expensive and scarce and one doesn’t exactly buy dog food. People would raise their eyebrows if you said you were going to town to "buy dog food." I’m not even sure it is available. Around here, dogs eat scraps and handouts, and nursing mothers can use all the charity they can get.

By the end of the week, I was scooping my lunch out of the same unseasoned batch. Hmm... not too bad. Add to my list of I can’t believes: I can’t believe I’d ever willingly eat dog food.

Life is so unpredictable.

Inspiration in all kinds of places

One of the best parts of being a designer is the endless ideas that are constantly bombarding your mind. I find inspiration everywhere! I'm constantly asking my husband to stop so I can take a picture of a textures or ideas when we are out and about. He's even become pretty good at spotting them himself.

A few weeks ago my extended family was in town for a family event. Being the outdoors men that my dad, brother and brother-in-law are, they wanted to go browse Cabela's to find the newest gadget, fishing lure or equipment they might need. I have to admit that I could spend hours there as well. So we made it a family outing for all. With the grand kids in tow we went on a tour to see all the "wild animals" and the huge fish aquarium. It's almost better than the zoo!

It wasn't just fun for the grand kids seeing all the kinds of animals, playing in the shooting gallery and seeing the talking moose, but it was fun for me! Snapping pictures of animals, checking out the various camouflage and avoiding the fly tying area so I wouldn't spend all my money on possible embellishments, I left filled with a whole bunch of new design ideas. Of course they are added to my notebook of thousands of other ideas. Who knows when I'll ever get the chance to actually sit down and work on some of them. But at least they are there when the creativity comes to a standstill. So for now I'll keep getting inspired by everything around me in all these various places.

Driving Me Crazy

(Conversation overheard)

Ro: Where are we going?

V: Over there.

Ro: But we just got here. Why are we going over there?

V: Because you wanted to go over there.

Ro: I thought we were going somewhere else. Where are we going again?

V: Crazy, Ro. You're driving me crazy.

Ro: No, I'm not. Because you're the one who is driving. See. That's you behind the wheel right now. I'm over here being all innocent.

V: You? Innocent.

Ro: Yeah. I'm innocent. It's just me and my little digital camera trying to make you...

V; Crazy.

Ro: Is it working?

V: Almost.

Chalk Art & Fun

My mom gave Molly and Markus new jumbo sidewalk chalk, and yesterday they were out front creating interesting art, and a hopscotch. My brother had Molly lay down on the side walk and he drew her outline. Then she used the chalk to give herself a face, hair, and clothes. Next her footprints were outlined going up to the front door. The footprints where such a hit that she wanted us to start going around the block with them! I will treasure always her smiles and bright happy eyes. Thanks for the chalk, Mom! We will wear each piece right down to little nubs.

Today we were back out there again playing hopscotch. I pulled out the camera and Molly and I took some pictures to share with you. The weather is sunny and in the mid 70's this week. It feels like Summer is just around the corner.

Ketchup Faces

We are a sauce family. Not me so much. I barely put anything on my food, but my boys have inherited this trait from their father. They will look at every food and think, "What can I put on this?" It could be ranch dressing with Frank's hot sauce. Perhaps a custom bar-be-que, ketchup, ranch mix.

One of the favorite choices, of course, is ketchup. It goes with all of their kid-friendly food that we eat a little bit too often. A friend of mine asked me recently, "Do your kids always have ketchup on their faces?" She sees lots of pictures of my boys and their ketchup faces. I try to keep the dirty faces to a minimum when we are out, but sometimes they slip through when we are all at home. I end up taking pictures and there it is, ketchup faces.

Sometimes, the red sticky evidence can be creatively Photoshopped out. Most of the time, I end up leaving it. After all, this is my life. Five little faces to clean, three meals a day with possible sauce encounter. (Yes, breakfast too. They will eat hot sauce or buffalo sauce on their eggs! What a mess.)

One particular sauce encounter, though, takes the cake. I was outside gardening after lunch. Soon, I realized that my youngest son wasn't outside playing with the rest of them. I checked inside and here was Andrew at the dining room table. The large pump style ketchup dispenser was disassembled all over the table and Andrew was enjoying his favorite sauce all by itself, in handfuls. The mess was so bad, I couldn't fix it right away. It was everywhere. With some encouragement from my husband, all I could do was laugh and get my camera.

Another exercise in carefully chosen words

I read a blog post the other day about an interesting new book titled "Not Quite What I Was Planning". It’s a collection of six-word memoirs by writers both popular and obscure. Some of them are pretty odd (Amy Sedaris: "Mushrooms. Clowns. Wands. Five. Wig. Thatched.") but most of them are strangely moving (Zak Nelson: "I still make coffee for two.") and often funny (Stephen Colbert: “Well, I thought it was funny.”)

It got me thinking about how I would sum up my life in six words: Small town girl left, returned wiser. Accurate, but it doesn't really capture the breadth of experience that I think I'd want to convey.

How about: Never dreamed I’d be so blessed. Nope, too cliche - though certainly true.

I think this one pretty much sums it up: I should have started much earlier.

What about you?

Ghost Town

Three and a half years ago, when we moved to a tiny little base in the heart of Oahu, we filled the last empty house on the street. Most of the families included little kids and the block was often filled with children chasing balls, riding bikes and chalking the sidewalk. The noises were happy and fun and filled with laughter. All of the parking spaces were occupied every night and it was common for us to have block parties every couple of weeks and get-togethers for holidays. I considered us very lucky to be assigned to live in such a warm fuzzy kind of place.

Fast forward a few years and most of the families have slowly moved on as they received orders to new places. Now, 75% of the homes on the base have been scheduled for demolition in favor of fancy new Navy abodes – good news for the newcomers, but kind of sad for those of us still here.

Our last remaining neighbors, our best friends, moved out this week and down near the Honolulu airport to a lovely new home. It was hard to see them go, even though it’s only forty-five minutes away, because we interacted with them daily: a quick drop-by to say hello, an invite to play cards or to borrow a movie or two. The drive feels like it somehow severs the close connection and makes us weekend friends rather than a normal part of our everyday lives.

Our once happy, laughter-filled street, is now much like a ghost town: lonely, empty houses without any sign of life. The parking spaces are repositories for the wind’s occasional offerings and our neighborhood consists of only us.

Soon, we will be moving as well and going to a new state, a new community. But I will always have fond memories of our pleasant little spot on the quiet little base a short distance away from the aroma of fresh pineapple fields, of children’s play and laughter and of good friends and happy times.

Taking Pills

I was out recently running some errands with my kids. We stopped in a bookstore to spend a little bit of time browsing the kid's section. Of course, as soon as we sat down, someone had to go to the bathroom. So we loaded back up and walked over to the bookstore's bathroom. As we were washing our hands, a lady came out of the bathroom stall and said, "Oh wow, are these kids all yours?"

"Yes," I said, not phased much by her question, as we get these kind of questions a lot.

Without really thinking, I gleefully told her, "And we have another baby on the way."

Her face turned from amazement to utter shock as she exclaimed, "Oh my gosh! Why don't you take pills?"

At which point I started laughing, uncontrollably. It just struck me as so funny that she would ask such a direct, not to mention slightly personal, question. My answer came a few awkward moments later, after I stopped laughing - "Because, we like kids!"

A Studio Glimpse

I enjoy seeing where people work, so I thought perhaps that you might like to see a bit of my studio. I work in what used to be our dining room. Because it is actually one end of our living room, I do try to keep it fairly neat, as it can be seen from the front door.

Here's my bookshelf — I got inspired a year or two ago and organized a lot of my craft stuff in these cool metal boxes. I actually typed out labels on the computer in a vintage typewriter font for each storage box. Somehow, it made it more fun to clean up after a wonderfully creative and messy craft project!

I used the antique cash box (upper left in the photo) as an actual cash box when I sold at craft boutiques, but now it is used for ribbon storage. The "Inspire" sign was a birthday gift from my dear friend, Karen. The folder of antique rose prints is a wonderful treasure! An antique dealer friend handed me the folder and asked if I would be interested in taking a look at them. They are unmarked, but through research I have identified them as plates from a book written by a British woman gardener in the early 1900s. I'm excited to design something pretty with them.

I hope you have enjoyed this little visit into my creative space!

The graph paper used below is from Valerie Randall's Decorate Collection.

Sunbathing

From my second story studio window, through the branches and last year's leaves, I spy my doxies enjoying a chilly day by doing a bit of sunbathing. If I were wise, I'd go join them and dream little dog dreams. But instead, I photograph them for the time when I can create a digital scrapbook page; the long shadows of the pergola protruding into their space, their little funny bodies in repose. There is peace in their world and the simple pleasure of a sun bath and dream time. We should all be as wise as weiner dogs roasting in the sun. May peace be with you and also with you.

Spring sports season has begun!

April, in my part of the world, means warmer weather, spring bulbs blooming and, inevitably, spring sports. Don't get me wrong, I love watching my sons play their chosen sports, but it brings with it busier schedules and crazier days. It's a season filled with days of gotta get dinner in them early, gotta get the uniforms washed before the next game, gotta make sure we have plenty of Gatorade and, of course, gotta make sure what time, which field, how to get there. It's also a time when I gotta make sure my camera battery is always charged.

For Ben, spring sports means baseball, his chosen sport. For Ben, baseball means a little batting, a little running and, for the first time this year, a little pitching. He pitched for two innings and struck out most of the batters. Go Big Ben! (That's what they call him on his team.)

For Samuel, spring sports means soccer, his chosen sport. For Samuel, soccer means running and more running and, hopefully, some kicking with a chance to score. Luckily, he loves all of the running and, of course, he loves to score!

Of course, for me, it also means an opportunity to get great shots of my boys doing what they love. Considering how hard it is to get good shots of them at this age (without goofy faces) I make sure I take full advantage of every opportunity.

A Fresh Perspective

Spring reveals all kinds of life (and death) on our 200-acre farm. The calendar may say April, but the still-frozen pond says "not quite." Any open water on our icy pond quenches the thirst of many animals, some of which meet their fate by the hands (jaws) of our three dogs.

This year, a raccoon succumbed and his carcass soon became part of the frozen surface. Because the carcass froze solid, it remained fresh enough to feed a gaggle of other life forms as they passed through our acreage, including this eagle. He returned many a day to indulge in the dead varmint. Granted, the sight itself may not be a pretty one to many, but from a slightly different angle, beauty shines through. The crows watch at a distance, minding their manners, yet brave enough to approach the eagle as if to say, "We are next, buddy, save some for us." The eagle, however, not quite satisfied with the hand he has been dealt, figures that fresher meat may be on the underside. So, without sounding defeat, he pulls and tugs until he finally frees the body from the frozen surface of the pond and feasts on the other half.

We have seen this raccoon feed many birds, including the eagle, black crows, a red-tailed hawk and, no doubt, a few others while we weren't looking. But, how lucky was I to see this battle of the will, this glorious eagle looking for a fresh perspective on a dead raccoon.

Layout by Theresa using Reawakening Embellishment Biggie, ScrapSimple Embellishment Templates: 3-D Negative Frames Biggie, Scenic Route Collection Biggie, A July 4th Collection Mini, A Little Worn Out Paper, ScrapSimple Embellishment Template: Crumpled Folds