Wednesday, December 14, 2011

Lookin for a blog with a tutorial for a Felt rose Scarf

Day whatever... of my 30 day blogfest.
I have been searching in vain for a blog that did a tutorial for a felt or wool rose scarf.  It was adorable.  I must have guessed I could remember where to find it when I wanted it.  After final 4 exams, I can't even remember what my name is.
I  think I clicked into a link from one of my followed websites. Needless to say, it's all stored in my head and I have to just try to figure it all out.

*Update:  I tried one more time and typed in Blogger tutorial felt flower scarf and Wallah... You can make this along with me at "Watch me Daddy"   CLICK HERE
Be sure to come back when I finish.

UPDATE:  check out my version HERE

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Blah blah blah blah blahhhh

Post 8 of my 30 day blog fest.
(sigh).... I'm realizing it's Wednesday.... and I haven't posted in 3 days on my 30 day blogfest.

Sign here.....____________________________ if you care to to protest.   (sigh.)  

Sunday, December 4, 2011

Perfect Christmases

Post #7 in my 30 blogfest

It's Sunday night and I just finished watching the First Presidency Christmas Message.  (You can find the archives at   I was reminded during the broadcast that we should have a wonderful Christmas regardless of whether or not we consider it perfect.  There are so many things that are good about this time of year.  Right after, I was reminiscing to myself about my own childhood and was reminded by a few memories I had growing up.  When I think of perfect Christmases these were the memories that stood out.  I hope you enjoy!

The time my oldest sister took me with her to buy a present for a single woman and her children that were not so fortunate that year.  She knew the lady had zero money to buy gifts for the kids and felt that we could help her out.  I don't remember what we bought them, but I do remember the spirit of Christmas that she taught me about scraping your pennies together to help make someone else's Christmas a little more jolly.  After dark that Christmas Eve, we went and dropped it on her door step, rang the bell and ran. I don't remember what I got that year under our tree at home, but I have always remembered this lady many times and wondered how she felt having a little joy dropped at her door that Christmas.

A different memory was a friend that my brother and I shared in common.  He was a teenager living with his mother and step father.  That particular year, his parents decided they really didn't need a tree.  This friend was lamenting that he really wasn't feeling Christmas at his house.

Fortunate for us, my brother worked with the scouts selling Christmas trees.  My brother found a tree that was pretty lame and was sure no one would buy because it had a large space without branches.  The scout leader let him crop the top 2 feet off the tree and he and I made arrangements when the friend was out of the home to go put it up in his room .   We bought a strand of lights and decorated it and hung wrapped Christmas candy from the branches.  He eventually figured out it was us, but we felt good that he had a little Christmas spirit that year. 

Would you be willing to share a memory from your past?

Friday, December 2, 2011

Confronting age head on.

Post #6 in 30 day blogfest
I'm learning today about death and dying in my Human Development and Family Studies.  I'm in the chapter on old people and it says that most old people are very conscientious about when they die and how they will go.  It's interesting that I don't think about death more than I do but the text brings out that as you age, you will confront the issue more than when you are younger.  I stopped to think about that and realized, "Yes, I will someday die".  Another part of the text brings out the fact that aging can be broken down into three categories:  The young old , old old, and the oldest old.   The first group is healthy and active, the second has some health problems, and the third and are frail and need care.  I was thinking which group I might belong to and surmised that I must be young, because I'm mostly healthy and active.  After looking up the ages for the three groups the young old started at 65.

Now, my kids are constantly telling me that I'm old.  It doesn't bother me mostly, except that it means I no longer know the latest rap lyrics and know I better not even try wearing my britches down around my knees.  I've come to the conclusion that the difference between me and the olds is that I'm still feeling my oats. I'm sure this day will change, but when that happens I won't have any problems knowing that I'm finally old; cuz my wild oats will have turned into prunes and All Bran.