warm, washed and waiting........

this was going to be a serious post - filled with store business and near truths about heart wrenching personal issues. but really can we all wait that long. do you see how long it has been. despite a good try i can't seem to get the foolishness out. perhaps it would be more prudent to start with a serious paragraph or at the very least - the simpler sincere sentence.

i'm here.

now, concerning the title. here i was driving down the rood and suddenly there it was plastered on a billboard. it was near midnight and for god's sake we were on a highway named in honor of our monarch. i thought holy mother "there's hookers at the airport" what else could it mean. i was informed by someone in the car that it was indeed an ad for a park and ride service. it was also pointed out that no one thinks of these dirty things but me. i don't know about you but when i see an add for warm, washed and waiting i immediately see a room full of buxom whores lounging on plush velvet furniture. what else is there. but after some careful thought i said to myself - self, we could make this work for advertising the shop. not in the whore sense but in a more genial way. picture this - me in the doorway of the shop - warm, washed and waiting for my beloved customers. honestly its better than the alternative - me cold, soiled and indifferent. see, it is quite catchy. should i include it on my business cards? let me know.

now, on with the show


i'm guessing you would like a bit of an explanation. well brace yourself effie. first the nots - i have not been in jail and or rehab - i have not been on a journey of personal discovery - i am not knocked up. ok, i'm going to tell you and it's not pretty. i had my period for about 2 months and yes i mean everyday. wait - my pride just got up and shuffled off. yes, it has come to that - talking about the inner workings of my front passage. this kind of dialogue is enough to make even the baby jesus cry. but we must solider on. i'm feeling better now all thanks to the barr laboratories in new york. they make a little thing called THE PILL. portable hormones in a convenient bubble pack. these people at the barr laboratories really know what they're doing - its practically on par with parting the red sea. sorry, no unpleasant visual intended. i would however like to take this time to thank the families of all the rats that lost their lives during the testing phase of this medication. your sacrifice does not go unheralded. i for one intend to work the hell out of this PILL thing. now that i'm just another regular girl i can't decide whether to begin the adulteress phase of my marriage but alas i fear i have left it a bit too long. my potential partner pool is rather shallow. i'm down to the aged, the infirmed and those strange little fellows who want me to dress like their mothers. maybe i'll keep my knees together. of course underneath i will be relishing the possibilities and the opportunities available to a girl whose packing hormonal heat.

the ever warm, washed and waiting
bev

ps thanks for the comments and emails. it is quite groovy to be missed

retail gymnastics - olympic tryouts

the shop has been in a very odd place this week. i'm not complaining - that would be sinful. but still, it's like my little retail wonderland has been the shooting location for a made for tv movie. a very low budget tv movie. everything has had a very dream-like quality. normally trusty crafting customers have collectively veered off the path of preordained interaction - or they're huffing solvents between their car and my shop door. people are asking for things that to my knowledge don't exist. maybe it's me. maybe they're speaking in code that i'm not hip enough to get. there can't be porn paper - can there. i have never thought of the possibility until now. do you suppose there is an underground dirty paper market. should we google it - perhaps not.

i've had people showing up at all hours. which is sort of ok. i'm not one to turn down a few quid. but let's face it i'm barely at my best during shop hours. my meds don't stand a chance in the delicate hours before 11am. cars have just randomly been showing up which suggests to me that it might not be random (movie tie-in). my kid shouts "car at the shop" and i fly out of bed. "its 9:30am on sunday" i think. i fly to the shop bleary eyed, braless and my hair flattened against my head. ta-da

i had a cranky customer on wednesday. i've only ever had 2 and quite frankly she had nothing on the first one. but still, she was stunning in her own right. she told me, right up front, she usually shopped at the dollarama and i just jacked up prices for the same thing. i've got to admit she threw it down. but its hard to have a cockfight in such a small space. i tried winning her over with gems from my extensive charm repository; but she was impervious. she was just a chippy girl accustomed to inferior adhesive. ultimately, she was seduced by fab product and my low-ball pricing. she bought some stuff, double-checked the receipt, bitched about the final price and left in a closing volley of praise for her beloved dollarama. i wished her well but i feel she won't be back. i'll miss her. the girl had game

the next day a car drove up and woman emerged that i instantly recognized as dollarama girl - the remix. i've seen her look before, the - you missy are quite the disappointment - look. i felt i should take immediate preemptive action. negative energy warps my paper. "jesus, you look pretty," i cooed, "that colour looks wicked on you." well, we just turned that frown upside down. after that she and i got on like gangsters, turns out she was just having a bad month. i sold her some stuff, gave her sound advice and a complimentary reusable kraft bag.

so you see kids, all turned out well. love won out in the end. it took patience and a little verbal magic but we emerged from the week unscathed and a wee bit wealthier. i'm confident that next week the world will have righted itself and everyone will be back to their joyfilled selves and the movie will have wrapped

here at long last are some pics of the recipe mini. feel free to criticize - i can probably take it.














see you soon
cheers bev

and it was all mighty western.......

brace yourself evie. its another non-crafting post. honestly, if you people are waiting for tutorials or industry news, i'm probably not your girl. i am most likely what is referred to as "a crafting one-night stand" i take part of that back - the public keeps distracting me with their goofy antics and my pre-menopausal hormones are wrecking havoc with my already fragile attention span. so do you want to hear about the farmer's market and rodeo.... or would you like to hear my thoughts on CHA and aversion to copic markers. one involves nudity and the police. just as i thought..off we go

the farmer's market has been slightly uneventful. sure there's the infighting surrounding table issues. location - location. in case you're not in the know - the place you want to be is against the wall and near the front. and nowhere near the tupperware chick. you absolutely do not want to be in the centre isle. back to back tables. i imagine it to be like general population in prison. except old craft ladies have no tats but they do have lots of gas. i don't mind spreading myself around but i don't do general population - well i might do it intoxicated. you should know this is not the part with the interesting ending. well every saturday involves a bit of trash talking by the ladies. opera whispering about what delores did to get table 3. it sounds boring but if you've got a dp in your hand - it's a teenie bit like dinner and a show.

the whole thing got a bit ramped up during rodeo weekend. we're all supposed to be on our best behavior - personally that translated to my being on time and no dirty talk. sooo we were encouraged to dress the part - you know western wear or period costume (cowboy or hooker). i was given a purple dress to don but i protested "i want to be a cowboy" i whined "i'm ALWAYS the hooker". god, i was pathetic. in the end i got my ass up and wouldn't wear the fetching frock. i went modern day, gender neutral- something for everyone look.

the rodeo parade (that started from the community hall) was your basic 3 float/100 horse variety. the "spotlight" float was entitled - old queens. you know, i can't add anything to that. it's it own little fill in the blank joke. well off the cavalcade went in a blaze of square dance music and intermittent rain. somewhere, eye witness accounts vary, the whole moving spectacle came to unceremonious halt- the pomp police officer leading the procession had to leap from his cruiser to break up a fist fight. the chaos ensued - horse shit everywhere, old queens flailing their scepters. i'm sure we won't make the brochure for small town living. the fight between 2 middle age men was over a parking spot.

trouble took a risque turn later at the local hotel. think towels on the table to soak up the spilled ale kind of hotel. a lady disrobed while riding the mechanical bull. i wasn't there, i can't say how much she had on to begin with. this much from a town of less than 600 people. imagine what we could do with more players.

so you see, my capacity for mature, creative endeavors has been reduced by all this foolishness.

cheers,
bev

stalking normal.......

I am seduced by the normal - you think I jest? I am intoxicated by normal - hockey moms, blond highlights, ice tea, facebook, acronyms like LOL. it's all a sparkily twirling light show. i watch in amazement as people maneuver through this maze - everyone knowing which behavior, emotion and facial expression goes where. normal people also recognize their kind. you never feel awkward in a crowd. never without your magnetic north. sometimes i get close - let's say a conversation about cleaning windows with newsprint - then i brick up and ask if any words from the newsprint ever randomly get transferred to the glass and how cool that would be. at this point the light goes on for most people, they tilt their head, look at me with a strange mix of pity and annoyance, sigh and move on. At the farmer's market on saturday i was positioned across the aisle from an impressive display of normal. tight perm kind of normal - she was so sweet, i could have wept. it was pretty much love at first sight for me. not track lighting, vest wearing kind of love. the other kind. i spent the better part of the 3 hour tour trying not to scare the bejesus out of her. she spent the entire show crocheting a shopping bag out of beige phentex yarn. and the look on her face - mother mary could not have looked more serene. hopefully she and i will become confidants before the end of the summer - i bet she doesn't even own a freak flag.

i am partaking in two activities right now that pretty much put my mean age at 12. i can't confess, i'm not strong enough

and the dry spell continues. maybe my phentex muse will intercede, maybe i'll start lifting her work.

and and i will be posting an interview soon. real or imagined people want to talk to me

cheers,
bev

Close your eyes and think of England.......

yes, it has come to that. i seem to be in a bit of a crafting funk. it's time to take one for the team. bury my face in the pillow and do it for my resume. i'm certain you've heard them all. it has occurred to me that i may simply have nothing left to make. i haul it all out and look expectantly at the paper. where are you, you little project? maybe i suck or maybe i'm lazy. maybe i'm all dried up - a withered old paper whore. that was a bit harsh. bear with me, i can sometimes be a prayer challenge. so, at sometime today, i must do the deed - brace myself and remember the empire. I have more but I won't use them. I am known locally as THE model of restraint.




wish me luck
bev

on being a super model.....

I forget, did i mention I'm a supermodel and fabulously rich. My tiny clothes are often so loose i am forced to cinch myself in. Not everyone is aware of these little info nuggets. I suppose it's not immediately apparent when you see me. i don't like to show off. The chub, the national geographic body and 900sq ft farmhouse are a ruse. Now that you know, don't hate me.

well, I'm glad that's off my chest. I'm in the car, driving speedy quick to the capital. I think we'll go to the antique mall, costco and Fort Edmonton. We are staying over at the bff's. we'll probably spend the night talking about how pretty we are.

i'm not high or anything. I'm just listening to gaga and all that foolishness has gone to my head. yes, lady gaga. we all have our dirty little secrets. i'm talking about all you twilight readers.

should we talk about the shop. i've probably lost all the crafty readers by now. just the morbidly curious are hanging on. i had a pretty exciting saturday. I was representing at the farmer's market. i love, love, love going. people walk past the table, so serious and then when you smile and say hi. they light up like a christmas tree. Except the kids and old women, sometimes they're hard nuts to crack. They're wary, and really there's nothing wrong with that. I meet such interesting peeps. i think i lead a extremely sheltered life - people flit around the country in their slide-outs. my brain could not under any circumstances handle that much stimuli.

after the market i had ladies from away visit the shop. more creative, globe-trotting chicks. i met my mam's success quota and spent the rest of the day feeling groovy

got to run. the city awaits. i'll endeavor to post something crafty tomorrow

cheers
bev

The maternal wave of sunshine has left Miss Esteem looking for her self......

and that is all there is to say about that....except maybe, never underestimate the elderly.

sorry it has been so long. I post every day - in my head. If I could plug a internet connection directly in my brain you all would be in for some serious entertainment.

I have amazing ladies come to the shop. maybe all ladies are amazing but i think not. new ones, familiar ones.... I can't tell you how wonderful it feels. it scares the shit out of me but that is all part of my wonderland. I watch them go about the shop, amazed by their creative might. i want to be like them. inspiration in human form. thank you for coming.

and thank you for reading the blog. let me apologize for my frequent and painful misuse of the comma and my general attack on my mother tongue. a sweet lady named wendy wrote about the blog and her recent visit to the shop. holy mother, that was cool. the response to the envelope book has been lovely. I have a recipe book and a birthday book almost ready for inspection. posting projects is like handing someone a gun and asking them to shoot you. It's a leap of faith i'm very uncomfortable with. but one must grow

ending on a rather soppy note, aren't i. I will endeavor to blog more often. I certainly appreciate my daily reads and marvel at the commitment it takes to keep a blog fresh and updated.

cheers, bev

the hard and the easy.......

sometimes i miss my old home....the one by the sea. i realize that many of the things that i long for are long past but...... i miss my friend. i miss walking on the beach. i miss the sound of the water. but if i were there i would miss my new home....the one on the prairie. and i would miss the smell of the earth. the endless land and sky. our little farm.

After that depressing little intro I'm sure you're dying to go on. Let's talk about crafting. Here is one of the little mini books I have been working on. I tell you I'm quite taken with this format. I often feel a huge sense of inadequacy in terms of the scrapbook. I'm not a photo taker. My children's memories are haphazardly strewn throughout our home. I am, however, seduced by and bound to, old yellowed photos. Strangers... but so familiar to me... I can almost see their lives swirl beneath their images. I want to ask - Why do you look so pensive? Do you smell your cake burning? Does your husband beat you? Are you tired? god, it's pure crack. I also eat up old hand-written recipe books. You can just feel the pride bursting through the careful script. Thousands of budding authors just wishing to be heard. It's a hard copy blog complete with oven temps and penciled in edits.



Clearly I strayed off topic. Back to the cute little Kraft albums. This one is a photo album made with October Afternoon's Farm Fresh. Despite the previous post still one of my favorite paper providers. I work slow, sometimes painfully so but for you keener's out there this is easily a 1 day project.











Photos go on the right and a wee journal card is in the left hand pocket. The pocket could also hold extra photos or drugs(sorry). Also very sorry for the poor photos. Photoing is second only to lyrical dance in skills to be acquired soon.

cheers,
bev

the perils of modern space flight.....

Salutations my little buds. Let's not talk about where I've been - let's just say -what goes up, must come down. I wish I had some words of wisdom, warning or wonder but it is what it is. Whether seen from space or ground level - life is good.

OK, so I removed the last post. It made me sad or uncomfortable - take your pick. Sincere closed mouthed kisses to Followers 1 and 4 for noticing. On a completely different note, I'm getting quite pissy with October Afternoon. I realize with that statement I've removed myself from the running for any fab new product consultant position but speak the truth and the truth will speak. The wait for the new lines has been going on and on and on. I am so sick of looking at projects made with these absent products. Apparently every second person in the known world received a box full of freebies to "PLAY" with. By the way, that word, play, makes me a bit nauseous, for the most part we are grown-ass women - only children and small foreign speaking fairies should play. I know that the lines will be beautiful when they get here and I'll regret this little tant but Good God people I've been staring at the preview since January. This situation falls under a name we had for certain girls in high school. Those girls made my life a whole lot busier.


Well, now that's out of the way. Better out than in. Here on the other hand is a bit of Cosmo Cricket. The always speedy quick shipped, Cosmo Cricket. Material Girl has been in the shop for awhile and is quite fetching.









I'll leave you with that little bit of angry bev and a little bit of crafty bev.

cheers,
bev

the beating of my heart........

Hello my sweets. Here are my babes. I just wanted to write a wee little love note about them. This is all I know about being a mother..... Every time my children's hearts beat it is a reminder to them that they are not alone, I am there and all is well. I will not forsake them. I am forever theirs. And when my heart beats, it is their voices I hear and I am reminded that love is all there is.

cheers,
angie and amy's mom

From inside the whale's belly

Holy mother its black in here. The only thing keeping me the slightest bit entertained, besides you of course, is the bright red exit light shining in my eyes. I'm so unhappy. How? - Why? - Gosh fearless entrepreneur, are you ok. (I can here you saying that). I'm fine - well perhaps a bit giddy. I am after all laying here in the pitch black dark with 14 people who could be described as mostly strangers to me. I am supposed to be going to sleep. Listen, right now there are 2 distinct snoring voices echoing through this cavernous wonderland. And all of this action is taking place in a peaceful mountain village. I realize this sounds more like a Nancy Drew novel and not the opening volley of a crafting blog, but....

I'm on location. Yes, the Black Ink papermobile is bringing the love to Banff. Of course the budget is so small I'm shacked up in the town's Boy Scout hall with the above mentioned strangers. How you ask? Well, in a nutshell it goes like this..... Amy went on an guided ice walk today (because of the location it became an overnight 4-H activity) and to round out the day's fun I agreed to teach the club a workshop on cardmaking. Honestly, you can incorporate a selling opportunity into almost any situation. So here we are - in the above mentioned building, with the above mentioned people. Which brings us to now. The people are fine. The setup - just about my second worst nightmare. This place was not intended for this type of interaction and group sleeping is just dirty wrong. For God sake, I'm an artist. I need privacy and a place to sit my dp.

Would you like a couple of pics of some cards I've made or should we just sit here quietly and try not to dwell on having to pee. I choose cards and considering just how much I fear rejection, that should demonstrate my level of desperation. The cards were made using October Afternoon's - Farm Fresh line. This release continues to be one of the most popular with my peeps. HOLD UP, someones walking around with a flashlight. Could it be my faux, lover Bill, here to find me or perhaps its the troop leader coming to speak to me about the faint light and the gentle tapping coming from this side of the great big damn room. I'll quickly go and fetch the cards.







good news, only 7 hours until morning

cheers, Bev

Sweet Complusions

Hello precious ones. Well, I'm here. I've been here all along. Thoughts surrounding this blog take up a generous piece of my cerebral cortex. We will have to see if all that thinking can produce a bit of good, clean, award-winning fun.

So - welcome to the 2010 version of your life. Are we setting little creative goals?? Are we practicing the principles of gratitude?? Are we taking care of our monkeys?? I should delete the monkey bit, but not right now. You may notice, over the next while, this blog becoming more personal- don't be alarmed or fear for my safety, it's all part of my plot to take over the world. You probably noticed it took longer than anticipated to return to this little spot. I was trying to allow myself some time to think and act upon projects I have for the store, the blog and my own creative pursuits. Well, to be completely honest I also spent quite a bit of time napping. How, oh how to fit everything in - family, homeschooling, friends, the store, the blog, the house duties, and my own desire to create and work on all the ideas I have. Sometimes it all seems so attainable - dancing around, just out of my reach. But for the most part it feels like an impossible task - like filling the ice-cube tray in hell. Nonetheless it is an amazing, beautiful struggle. I love every part of every part of my life. I even love the fact that I'm so disorganized - it allows me to make at least 10 very pleasant discoveries almost everyday of my life.

Enough of that. This is later - days later. We are in the car, driving speedy quick down the highway. I think I'll just post this and start something new. I have to get over this first blog of the year trepidation. Maybe I'll look for a picture. Hang on - I think I've got a recent photo


cheers, Bev