Wednesday, March 30, 2011

A mIRC-ről, a barátságról és sweetie-ről

Van egy olyan dal ami úgy szól, hogy “I am a big, big girl in a big, big world” vagyis magyarul Nagylány vagyok a nagy világban”.  Valahogy mindig úgy érzem, hogy ezt Nekem írtak, Rólam szól. Arról, hogy boldogulnom kell egyedül, bárhol is vagyok. Mostanra ez már könnyebb, de nem volt ez így mindig ...

1996 volt, beiratkoztam egy amerikai főiskolára Long Island-on. Új emberek, új világ. Bárhol voltam, könnyen találtam barátokat, de a főiskolán, ahol azt hittem pár napon belül egy új diákcsaládra találok majd, nem így volt. Nem értettem a kultúrát. Nem tudtam miért mondogatják ismerőseim, hogy „csavarogjunk együtt”, de megvalósításra sosem került sor. Mindenki mindig el volt foglalva mint a női WC fülke „busy”. Úgy tűnt sokszor, hogy a nagy rohanó világban csak én értem rá, aki három munkát végzett míg iskolába járt, hogy ki tudja fizetni a meredek tandíjat. Már előzőleg megtanultam Angliából, hogy a „vigyázz magadra” (take care) is csak frázis és nem közelebbi érzelmeket tanusító vallomás, ahogy én fordítottam magyarra. Így lehetett ez a csavargással is. Ilyen a „How are you”, amikor a választ megadva veszem észre, hogy az érdeklődő alany már a következő reptéből jött „how are you”-nál van. Így jöttem rá, hogy mennyire hiányzik a kultúrám. A család és a barátok mellet, a szívből jövő „hogy vagy?” és az a „vigyázz magadra” amelyik egy futó ismerős szájából csalfán hangzana.

Egyik munkám annó a főiskola számítógép központjában volt. Humoros még most is, hiszen én ekkor az on/off gombon kívül nem tudtam sok mindent a számítógépről. A központnak megvoltak a törzsvendégei, akik sokszor segítségemre siettek mikor „Halovány gőzöm sincs, SOS!” kifejezéssel rájuk kacsintottam. Az egyik ilyen segítőkész ismerősöm Rob volt, aki órákon át mosolygott a gép előtt, néha hangos kacagásba ki-kitörve. Egy alkalommal elárulta, hogy „chat”-el, vagyis egy ún. mIRC programon keresztül beszélget emberekkel, akikkel valójában sosem találkozott. Kiváncsi lettem én is. Csak hosszú pislogás és kérlelés után volt hajlandó elárulni, hogy Ő a „Selyem és acél” nevű csatornára jár, mint sok más szado-mazochista. Láthatóan meghökkentem (Big big girl in a big big world) és szakszerűen elmagyaráztam, hogy engem inkább az érdekelne, vannak-e magyarok az ilyen chatországban?
Pár kattintás után máris a Rob mellett lévő számítógépen voltam beiratkozva mint Babóca ... #magyar.

Félénken figyeltem a beszélgetést, ahogy a sorok másodpercenként pörögnek a képernyőn. A monitorról kiérződött, hogy az „itt” lévők ismerik egymást. Nem tudom hogy zajlott az első beszélgetés, vagy kivel, azt viszont igen, hogy napok, hetek múltán megtaláltam a kultúrát, ami kerestem, még akkor is, ha ilyen furcsa világban sikeredett ez mint a szamítógép Long Islandi pici szobámban, vagy Rob mellett a fősulin. Barátokra találtam, szerelmes lettem (néha több mint egy egyénbe egyszerre), reggel izgalommal ébredtem és izgalommal feküdtem várva a következő beszélgetéseket. Nevettem és sírtam is a monitornak sokszor, valódi érzelmekkel tele a virtuálison világon át. Magányomból hirtelen családtaggá váltam egy állandóan gyarapodó, de stabil 20-30 ember számára. Ekkor még nem volt minden háztartásban számítógép, nem volt mobiltelefon, sms, skype, messenger, így a „chat”re is inkább a megszokott gárda jart. Úgy tűnt, a monitoron nyíltabban tudott mindenki beszélgetni. Megvitattunk mindent! Külön ablakocskákban intim életünk legtitkosabb dolgait, fő ablakban a napi dolgokat, a „családot” – ki mit csinál, hol van, hogy van ... Sok emlékem van erre az időre, sok kedves ismerősöm, sok barátom, akik a mai napig közel állnak hozzám. (Ugye nem kell felsorolnom?) 

Emlékszem az első utamra haza, Ferihegyre. Izgalomban égtem, ahogy kisétáltam a reptéren az ajtók mögül, bőröndömet magam után húzva, gyúrt arccal, friss rúzzsal, bízva benne, hogy valakit majd csak felismerek, akiket legbelül már olyan közelinek éreztem. 
Egy hatalmas „Üdv otthon Babóca!” lepedő mögül vagy 20 pár láb kandikált kifelé.


Így ismertem meg a valóságban „sweetie”-t. 


Vagy tizenakárhány évvel tőlem idősebb,  egyedülálló, szép nő, akivel mindig a lelkünk legmélyéről beszélgettünk. Szinte hallom a hangját, ahogy megkérdezi lelkiesen „Te mondd csak Babóca, es hogy állsz fiú ügyben?”. Egy éjszakát nála aludtam, Budapesten a fehér szőnyeggel fedett lakásában ... fehér, mert szellemileg tiszta .. Mindig kereste Önmagát, a szeretetet másokban, míg saját maga osztogatta akinek szüksége volt rá. Hajnalig beszélgettünk az életről, ki miért van a földön, kinek mi a hivatása ...  Márait idézett, és írta fel akár ez orvos, receptre a különböző bekezdéseket. Gyógyította a lelkemet, ápolta nem csak az enyémet.  

Aztán befejeztem a főiskolát, valaki beprogramozta valahol az AOL, Yahoo es Hotmail típusú chat-eket. Szétmaradt az akkori család ... Különböző ismerősökön keresztül tudtunk egymásról, de már nem olyan volt mint régen. Azt hiszem Ö mondta még régen, hogy „Néhány ember csak átmenetileg van az életünkben, és ez így van rendjén. Mindenki stoppos, akit minden alkalommal más kocsi visz tovább, de ez nem azt jelenti hogy nem hagynak maradandó nyomokat a vezetők,vagy hogy nem volt küldetésük az életünkben. 2005 ben, amikor beteg voltam, sweetie ismét megtalált. Eljutott hozzá a hír, hogy nem vagyok túl jól. Írt! Nem magyarázkodott mit csinált a pár néma év alatt, erőt adott, biztatott.  Míg meg nem gyógyultam, rendszeresen jöttek az emailek. Megtalálta a régi stoppost, felvette hogy reményt adjon, aztán tovább hajtott az élet ertelmét keresve, gondolom én, ahogy régen. ... Aztán ismét elnémult – én is, Ő is ... Más kocsik, más beszélgetések, más utasok ...   

Ma kaptam a hírt, „sweetie” pénteken elhunyt ...         


Márai Sándor „A barátságról” részlet ....

Montaigne, mikor eltünődött az érzés fölött, mely La Boétie-hez fűzte, ezt mondotta: " Barátok voltunk.... Mert ő volt ő, s mert én voltam én. "
Ez felette pontos

Sunday, March 27, 2011

Spring wreath

It's been a long, no looooonnggg winter and I am not happy about it! I want to hear birds chirping, I want to feel the warm rays of the sun and flip flop around the city in big bug sunglasses and flirty dresses. Around this time every year, a feeling sets in that Spring and Summer were cancelled forever. As I kept looking at the forecast for this week hopelessly seeing rain/snow on the computer screen, I realized that "If the mountain won't come to Muhammad, Muhammad must go to the mountain." So, I brought a piece of Spring and sunshine into our home and didn't even need to move a mountain (only a sewing machine out of my bedside table, a cutting mat from underneath the carpet, a few scraps from the coffee table and bar chair to reach the nail in the wall :o) 

You'll need: 
A wreath 
Happy fabric 
Burlap 
Ribbon
Paper/color printer 
Most importantly: A glue GUN!


1. Gather your materials 
2. Here is my favorite technique: let's call it W&G meaning "Wrap and Glue" ... So let's start ... W&G, W&G, W&G till the end with 2 inches wide burlap strips ....  


3. These are the happy fabrics I picked out. I cut strips 10-12 inches wide with different length, anything measuring 58-70 inches long. 
4. Iron them in half 
5. Draw waves going up to the middle and then down again and around. 
6. Sew through the waves and the bottom, leaving an opening to turn the piece inside out. Make sure to mark the waves on the inside of the fabric. Once done, cut around the waves close to the drawn/sewn line. 


7. Once turned inside-out gather the fabric by hand and twist to a rose shape while sewing the "snake" at the bottom. 
8. A bunch of flowers glued on.

Don't you LO(lo)V(i)E it? 


Forgot to mention: Print out a Happy Spring Banner! Mine is not very sophisticated (made in picnik.com), so if you are a graphic designer, feel free to take it up a notch from this very immature design. Print it on landscape (enlarge it to the length of the paper), punch two holes on each side and tie it to the wreath.  

If you like what you see, here is my banner: 


And the wreath's home next to our friend, the sleeping Buddha.




LO(lo)V(i)E

 Elvi 


Monday, March 21, 2011

Toddler travels

Flying is fun and it’s exciting or it’s stressful and scary. Or both when you happen to have toddler twins on your hands. There are numerous articles and blogs and forums full of advice on how to manage the expedition all moms and dads fear and I read them all!

Before we embarked on our transatlantic journey I did my homework.
I talked about the trip weeks before to London and Lola (aka LoLo); I bought new books and toys and stickers; I packed their favorite DVD’s; I made a list of food to bring, snacks to pack, changes of clothes for everyone and had secured bulk head seats well in advance. “Everyone survives it, so will we!” The last item on my “to do” list was to call the pediatrician to ask about Benadryl, or as my well-traveled mom friend claims, the only thing I really need for a peaceful journey.  “It knocks them out…” 

The nurse picks up the phone and I confidently ask if it’s ok to give LoLo half a pill each. “You want to drug your child????” the sturdy voice asks with so much guilt in it, I suddenly question myself. “How could I possibly take drugs into consideration” given our organic, everything homemade, healthy lifestyle? Shame on me!

The day arrives and we high-five with hubby as we smoothly go through security with baby bottles filled with milk, feed LoLo their dinner and make friends with everyone around. “Not sure why everyone says this is terrible!” We board a plane on time, settle in our seats and wait, and wait, and wait. The plane doesn’t take off for two hours; within the first 15 minutes we’ve gone through all the new toys, books and have cheerios falling out of all cavities. Now LoLo is crying, while the entire plane is busy either finding their earplugs or giving me the look directed at a mother that can’t handle her children. By the time our meals arrive we’ve done about 40 circles around the cabin. We can’t eat, because we can’t hold the tray; LoLo wants to do anything but sleep despite the fact that we chose the time of flight according to their sleep schedule. There is just so much excitement around. Flashing lights and seatbelts and new faces and turbulence. Their favorite video only keeps their attention for about 10 minutes while the captain keeps reminding everyone to stay buckled because of safety. It feels that our safety may be more at risk from our kicking, screaming toddlers as they fight the buckles and the seatbelt and we apologetically smile (sort of) at the surrounding passengers.  As the last resort, I find the stickers at the bottom of one of the four carry-ons; the peace is short lived, the results just the opposite. 

Eight long hours later we landed.  We’ve listened to crying in stereo most of the journey and so did everyone else. Needless to say, there weren’t many “they’re so cute” comments as usual. I sympathize with those haters – I used to be one of them when flying single with one handbag and no stickers. Hubby and I look at each other with relief as we push our two exhausted sleeping children through the passport control. As I peel off a “You did it” star from the back of his shirt, I only wish I could call the pediatrician’s office right away: “Hello, nurse? Remember me? Twin mom flying across the Atlantic? Just for future records:  I want to drug my children!” 

Sunday, March 20, 2011

Cherry Blossom necklaces to benefit Japan

Every year I wait for the time, when nature takes over the cherry trees and the sad brown branches are blanketed with beautiful white and pink flowers, transforming branches to plush gardens and city streets to fairytale landscapes. The Cherry Blossom, known as "Sakura" is a cultural icon in Japan. 
I bought a cherry flower ribbon last year thinking, I would make a necklace out of it without knowing, that I would be making a donation to support the natural disaster struck Japan.


Only after donating, I read the symbolism of the Cherry Blossom and I got the chills reading ... 

Symbol of Transience 
Although Cherry Blossoms can put up such a spectacular show, their existence is brief. This is the main reason why the Japanese people invests time and effort to vigilantly track down Cherry Blossoms so as not to miss a second of its passing time on earth. Cherry Blossoms therefore, are a reminder of our humanity - our mortality. Buddhism’s concept of “mono no aware” teaches the same thing. Like Cherry Blossoms’ cycle of exceptional beauty followed by a quick death, a human being’s life can be given and taken at any moment. During World War 2, Japanese pilots on suicide missions (Kamikazes) painted the figure of the Cherry Blossom on their planes, while some brought branches of these flowers to accompany them in death. Human life is not everlasting. Humanity’s evanescence, epitomized by Cherry Blossoms, reminds us that life is too short to squander awayWe have to relish every breathing moment we have left and live life to the fullest.

Symbol of Hope 
As the Cherry Blossom season coincides with both the fiscal and calendar years in Japan, it marks the arrival of new beginnings – students start their first day of school and new employees start their first day of work. The intense and vibrant blossoming of Cherry Blossoms bestows us with the license to hope and dream of greater things. It likewise gives us the sanction to forget past disappointments and failures and to look ahead with optimism and enthusiasm.

Source: http://www.brighthub.com/education/homework-tips/articles/69976.aspx 
The necklaces were donated to a sale for Japan event.  (I am not sure yet if they sold, but I am hoping they did.) 


I will never look at another Cherry Blossom the same way again ...


LO(lo)V(i)E,

Elvi (a Cherry Blossom tracker)

Friday, March 18, 2011

FOR JAPAN WITH LO(lo)V(i)E




If you are a blogger, I would LOLOVE if you participated in 
Bloggers Day of Silence for Japan.
this Friday (today), March 18th,
my blog will be silent as in no posts in honor and respect for
what has happened in Japan.
if you are interested in participating,
please e-mail lydia@ever-ours.com or info@utterlyengaged.com for more information.

LO(lo)V(i)E 

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Easy peasy necklace

Get your glue gun and nobody gets hurt!
Find some rope! (I bought mine from a craft store, but it dawned on me, that I could have bought some half price at a hardware store!)
Dig out some fabric - I like anything that shines or has flowers, or polka dots or stripes or looks vintage or shabby chic or lace or checkered or animal print or is recycled (I've made a necklace from my prego yoga pants before, so don't hold back your imagination fabric-wise!)
I think I missed a few patterns ...
Order a few of those end pieces (silver/gold) for jewelry because we will be using those a lot!
Look through your closet - is there a coat you hate with buttons you love? Perhaps a few fake pearls (because you know what Elvi says "Fake pearls are the girl's best friend".

Ok, now you're ready!

1. Just a few supplies ...
2. Take the cord, glue the strip to the cord entirely covering its length. Here is the trick: when you start wrapping the cord around fold it about 1/4 inch so that the unfinished edge does not show unless, you want more personality and you want it to show. Wrap, glue, wrap, glue, wrap, glue till the end!
Attach silver endings you've bought with a glue gun and clasps (Note: teeth don't work as well as pliers for this job. Just sharing my experience)
3. Make the flowers. Easy peasy! Surely you've seen thousand and one tutorials on this, but just in case: Cut a strip about 2 inch wide, fold in half, ruffle with a needle and thread. Now wrap around to form a flower - glue or sew together .. tararararaaraaaaaa
4. Get your button or a scrapbook brad, glue or sew to the center. Glue the flowers to the cord, cut out two circles of color coordinating felt and glue from the other side!

WEL DONE!



If I could only glue gun dresses and skirts and handbags and shoes in such a manner!
If you can, please let me know, I'll be your #1 follower (uhmmm .. stalker I think.) 

Now have a good week everyone and remember:
"Why lead when you can follow?" ... (hint, hint)

LO(lo)V(i)E
LV 

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Maybe

I don’t have an alarm clock; my expensive watch I got from Geoffrey as a wedding gift is at the bottom of a jewelry box; the only piece of accessory I wear is my wedding band and engagement ring. I have children, two of them, twins, toddlers.

My morning doesn’t start with the annoying tone of an electric alarm clock, but with a giggle, a cry or a scream “momma”. Consequently, there is no “snooze” button.
I don’t get 5 more minutes under the warm bed covers. When I hear shuffling noises through the monitor, I know that two pairs of big, blue and green eyes are open and my day just started! 

Sometimes I get a minute to put on my sweats, my uniform, other times the cry from next doors is so imminent and so powerful, it becomes an emergency situation and I am required to put out fires right away, one after another.  “Emergency situation”:  a pacifier thrown on the floor, a book of desire within an unreachable distance, or a diaper half torn from a perfect little body covered in skin as smooth as butter, as aromatic as a fresh load of warm cloths from a drier and a butt as round as two garlic cloves.

I am a mom in training. I’ve studied child psychology in college, I worked years as a nanny getting my practice run at motherhood and I’ve even watched a few episodes of  “wife swap” to sample extreme forms of parenting, but nothing really prepared me for the job at hand. I remember chuckling at my friend, Miriam’s facebook post a while ago, who said her toddler was her most demanding client. That’s from a blackberry of a corporate executive! "Not my children" I would have said years ago when I had my “will be” parenting tactics outlined as “strict”!

Meanwhile, in the babie’s room, the emergency situation has been saved and everyone is happily leafing through pages of colorful books. I would like to start a day, but LoLo doesn’t. My role now is to sit and wait it out while begging for some lenience, to be able to at least change their diapers. When all tricks fail, the of -chance  “If you’re happy and you know it” song prevails and I turn into a composer/singer/producer putting on a show. “If you’re happy and you know it, get out of bed”. Now at least we’re on our way to breakfast heading 5 steps south towards the living room!

Breakfast? Having wasted half of the morning, I reach for the easiest thing that comes to my hands – English muffins! I direct LoLo to their high chairs with more trouble than the traffic chief at crossroads on Times Square and try to stuff their little limbs into the coordinating holes. London insists on the company of the largest truck ever made for his age group, LoLa is clinging on to her two pacifiers, a blanket and a book. “Not without my truck, blanket, pacifiers, books”

The English muffin is done, a little butter and jam. I present the scrumptious breakfast on a favorite plate, but both look at me with great suspicion, as they never had a muffin before. London proceeds to poke a hole through the crispy dough while Lola turns it and smells it till all her fingers are covered in blackberry jam. “Cookie” she announces victoriously with a huge grin  ... London’s caught on to the idea and now they are both eating their breakfast, that just passed for a dessert!

Good job mom, you deserve a cup of coffee!” A second of quiet is followed by another emergency sound as soon as I fill up the coffee maker “Maaa” “Maaa” “Maaa”  I hear the chant … “Maaa” comes from a word “Masik” in Hungarian meaning “another one” or “the other”. Now London and Lola are both balancing their identical bowl with identical ingredients towards each other …  I am not just a mom and a wife, everyday I realize I am mostly a student and the lesson for today is : “Two identically appearing items are never identical” … I help with the exchange and longingly look towards the coffee maker when London shows me his squeezing fist I taught them months ago – “milk” in sign language … Sooner than London’s cup is filled, Lola is pushing hers towards me, though half full. The way of least resistance works the best for a bit of quiet in exchange and so I get the milk box, turn around and fill the cup. As I am handing it over to Lola, she shakes her head “NO” ..Nooo??? You don’t want it”? Lost in translation, I go back to baby language, sign language, ape language, switch from English to Hungarian and finally figure it all out! I turned my back! She didn’t see me pouring the milk into the cup! “If I didn’t see it, it didn’t happen” is my lesson two for the day.

The day proceeds in a similar chaotic manner. One minute I marvel at our luck of having these two adorables in our life, another it’s an emergency.  I am endlessly exchanging items, using my persuasive skills (one per each foot/hand) to make LoLo wear shoes/hats/gloves, demonstrating the possibility of eating with just one spoon rather than a few, opening and closing doors for safety vs fun! My life has moved from the chair level to the ground – I sweep the floor, I play on the floor and occasionally, I eat of the floor.  My “I will never” (as a parent) changed to “maybe”.

“Momma, cookie?”  

“Maybeeee”

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Crate to Cradle: How to make a doll bed (tutorial)

I am so excited to show you my new project I can barely contain myself ...
Among many thing I love to re-use and recycle are those fruit crates you buy at your local grocery store. These kind:


I've been using them as trays for children's parties for a while - making them pretty just gluing on ribbon or fabric of all kinds around them. I also cut out a piece of cardboard for the bottom, cover it with fabric and there you go!

As I admired one of these boxes (the kind that everyone in the family knows NOT to throw away, just like toilet paper roll tubes and other seemingly useless items), I've thought of another idea: making crates into baby doll beds. I want to claim this project to my name, although I did do a research online and realized I didn't just discover the wheel (I am still so proud of this one I almost feel like it .... :)
I hope you make many, many doll beds, so that I will be able to show it off here for everyone.
Step 0: Go shopping for some fruit in crates before they are off market for the season!

What you need:   
- a crate
- cardboard (I used a Pampers box - no lack of those around here!)
- fabric - (I bought 1/4 of the dotty and 1/4 of the tree pattern, plus 1/2 of the bed skirt material; I also used Geoffrey's old T-shirt for the bed sheet)
- glue gun
- Mod Podge or other glue
- white cardstock
- ribbon for trimming around the bed
- quilt padding material (for the cover and pillow)

The obvious: 
scissors, cardboard cutter, sewing machine, pen, pencil, thread

Draw out the bed board. I used a plate to make the pattern and just played around to finally get the shape I liked. The bottom of the crates is not even, so I cut a piece of padding used in quilts and filled the gaps around the corners, following I used tape to secure it to the corner.


1. Cut out your headboard material a little bigger than the size you actually need and glue it to the back of the board. If your box has print on it and it shows through, glue a layer of white cardstock as the first layer before the fabric. You can probably paint it also, but I live in a small 2 bedroom apartment so no painting, sanding .. etc. for me ... I used Mod Podge for this project, but you can use pretty much any glue. 

2. Headboard in progress. Make sure to make cuts into the the fabric as you glue around the corners, so that you can stretch the fabric.

3. Just showing how easy it really is!

4. Now we'll do the top part! Hopefully, you cut out two pieces of board material, so that you can pretty much do the same for the front, as for the back. The only difference is that you have to fold the fabric to place, before gluing. This can get a bit tricky, but manageable!

5. I realized that the bed needed a bottom sheet also, but had no material. Then I glimpsed at Geoffrey sitting in front of the TV in one of his white undershirts that needed replacement a long time ago and as you suspect, I tore it of of his back (literally! :) I stretched it around the bed, glued it on and now we had a white bottom sheet in place! 

6. I just noticed that 6 is really 7 and vice versa, but you get the idea ... Make the ruffled bed skirt, glue gun it to the side. For the length of the ruffle around the bed, just double the length what you need and add 1 inch! Ruffling as always: strongest tension on your machine with largest stitching. (Though sometimes I got frustrated because at the highest tension the thread tore a few times, in which case just use whatever tension works, pull the bottom thread and you'll get the ruffles that way!)

As the final step I glue-gunned a ribbon around the top edge of the bed skirt and the bed so that it looks nice and finished and here is the final product .. tralalalalalaaaaaaaa

P.S. I don't have steps for the pillow and the cover, but it's fairly straightforward. The padding is done with the quilting material, but you can also use fiberfill (at least for the pillow). 



The first guest sleeping in our brand new bed was BAA, the sheep I knitted ... 


Sleep well! Night night! Jo ejszakat! Dobru noc!

If you like Baa's new bed and my tutorials, please follow me and "like me" on Facebook! 
(I really want you to "love" me, but there is no button for that) I have so many projects rummaging through my head every day and so many crafty nights planned, that I am bound to come up with something creative again very soon. 
In the meantime, thank you to my loyal readers and followers and likers! 

LO(lo)V(i)E 

LV 

LOOK AT SIBYLLE'S version of the bed on Fun.kyti.me: 
So adorable! Lucky baby dolls :)

Featured also here:
Tip Junkie handmade projects

Friday, March 4, 2011

Feeling Fairy creative

I'd like a sympathy "oooooohhhhh", please, because I grew up without knowing that there were tooth fairies in this world.  We don't have them in Slovakia! Therefore, I don't have a keepsake tooth and never realized I deserved financial support for loosing them. So, when I got a bag of flowers petals from Kat at Fiber Notion saying "make a fairy" I took the challenge to compensate ...

What you'll need:
A large wooden bead
Pipe cleaners
A bag of flower petals used by scrapbookers
Wool (for hair and body)
Glue gun
My all time aid to make anything look fabulous: fake pearls


I think the photos are self-explanatory. I folded the pipe cleaner in half for the arms to make them more sturdy. The hair was the hardest to glue on without the glue showing, so make sure you apply only a little bit each time. Once you have the head glued on and the wrapped up body, I started making the skirt. All you need to do is to glue the petals one by one to the body. Don't worry if at first it doesn't look anything like a skirt! Once you add a few layers of petals, you can shape it with your glue gun. Now glue on the beads. I added a bead belt also and a flower/bead hat for my first personal fairy.

Here she is ...


The only reason she looks sad, is because the bead I had, had already a sad face on it. Otherwise, Blossom would be the happiest fairy in New York!
I sense more fairies coming into my life as LoLo grows up, though we are still working on getting the first set of teeth in order. I have a bit of time to beautify Blossom Fairy till needed! If you do make Blossom for your toothless munchkins, you can make her a teeny-tyni purse to hide the tooth in. I just wasn't inspired to unpack my sewing machine for such a luxurious accessory! :)

LO(lo)V(i)E
LV

P.S. I am so thrilled about all of you liking my necklace, I may just have to do another one soon. Scrappy projects still to come!

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

It's not you Jon; it's us!

I live in the best city of the world. I didn’t say it, Jon Bon Jovi did, when he took stage last Thursday in Madison Square Garden. It was Geoffrey's (my husband) dream to see him, so I bought tickets and presented to him as Christmas gift. He was giddy with excitement!

Besides a few well-known songs, I really don’t know the band, though I did notice that Jon got somehow sexier as he aged going from a tight jean rocker to the leather wearing bad boy.

Brigitta comes, she throws her jacket to the chair and she is ready to take care of the two rascals, so that mom can go and be wild. The door to my closet is open, I am on momma time and style, I grab the closest pair of jeans and this year’s favorite stripey shirt … ready to rock and roll!

So many people! I fight my way through the door, security, “Aww Myy Gaawd you’re a Bon Jovi virgin?” I hear a woman asking another one on the escalator; I also nod. Only one flight up and I am being ushered to my seat, “Hurry up honey, he’ll sing his first song close by”. I am hungry, Geoffrey volunteers to pick up the finest kind of popcorn sold in a box for 10 USD swearing hate and war if he misses the first song. Shortly after he leaves, the lights go out and 30 thousand people jump to their feet screaming. The monitor shows heavy steps coming towards us, then in a second of confusion and disbelief I look right and there he is! Hanging onto his guitar, working the strings, head tilt back and forth. The energy grabs me and I am a hardcore fan in seconds, nervously looking around for hubby and fearing consequences. The popcorn arrives, Jon leaves with an entourage of about 10 security guards and takes the front stage.

Whatever song he sings it transports me back to my high school years in Kosice, Eastern Slovakia. Dorm rooms come alive as I see posters of JBJ cut out from the latest “Bravo” magazine smuggled in from Austria or bought at a “Tuzex”. “Tuzex”, a store with its own currency and goods, that we’ve never heard or seen before; pricey commodities brought in from the West for the priviledged. Levi’s jeans, cans of coke, gummy bears, popping candy in pretty bags and perfumes I could only dream of. It was the only real window to what life behind the iron gate offered at the time.

Now here I am, popcorn, coke, Bon Jovi, New York. Jon talks about sitting in nosebleed benches when he was a kid, but I wonder how a girl from Southern Slovakia got here? “Ooh she’s a little runaway” …  I wasn’t one in a true sense of the word, yet I was one in another ... Running away from the world I knew to a world that excited me through movies, neon lights, adds, restaurants with flickering candles, high heels, yellow cabs, kids playing basketball in between city blocks and men in suits …  Now I barely notice the neon adds of Times Square, I eat by candle light at restaurants, have a closet full of high heels waiting to be worn and hail a cab with confidence. My husband is a man in suit I always dreamed of as little girl. (Yes, some dream of a white horse, but I grew up in a village!) I am at a Bon Jovi Concert!
I feel like I just received an Oscar, I feel like I achieved something, tough I am having difficulties putting it into words. Living in America was as unattainable as a trip to space, now I call this country my home. It’s where I got my education, met my husband and gave birth to my children.

“I’ll be there for you; These five words I swear to you” … all I hear IS the five words and wipe my tears. What did just happen? How did I get so emotional thinking about those five words that sound so cliché? I look at Geoffrey and we both cry. “I am embarrassed”, he says. I look away because we know exactly the meaning of these words. No need to say it out loud, we both think of those hard times spent at a hospital, when he held my hand, caressed my face and those five words carried all my hope for the future. I have to pinch myself to believe where we are today …

“The more things change, the more they stay the same” sings Jon about the music industry, but I am on my nostalgia road trip. I think of the friends I made during these 15 years in the US, the family I gained, the fact that life passes by as a bullet train. Just how far technology came I also ponder, as the girl next keeps taking video with her phone; the one that she will never watch. As cell phones light up all around instead of lighters, I can’t help but think of that phone call made home from a suitcase of a journalist giving me a ride while hitchhiking vs. the blackberry in my pocket; our flat screen TV vs. our black and white box with antenna on the rooftop and chocolate foil wrapped around the cables for better reception; hand written letters vs. facebook. I own a computer; though the first time I saw one at the college computer lab, I thought floppy disks were gear for scientists with much higher IQ than mine. Some things change, like technology, but memories remain. I think of friendships I made, lost and renewed; their innumerable value; my life experiences. Every little memory ties to a person, not an object, not the “stuff” from “Tuzex” I can now freely purchase at my local mall.  Just like this concert is much less about you Jon, it’s about us!

The woman next to me keeps texting;
I don’t think she understands …

It's my life
It's now or never
I ain't gonna live forever
I just want to live while I'm alive
(It's my life)
My heart is like an open highway
Like Frankie said
I did it my way
I just wanna live while I'm alive
It's my life


Thank you for the trip, Jon!