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Thursday, August 30, 2012

A Day at the Flea Market

Twice during the summer there is a small flea market in a small town a few minutes from my home.
In fact, there was a time back then when my kids were small that I had a shop with my best friend in the same small square of the flea market.

I miss my shop and my friend.

Anyway, I still try to go.


I always manage to find a treasure or two or three or more!

I love these vintage suitcases.  
The vendor sold them together for a great price.
It helps when you know most of the vendors by name.
They know you know how much something is usually worth and how much they can charge.

and more!

I could not have found a more perfect chippy, white, distressed piece.
It was the first treasure I bought.
I am hoping it will fit in the kids bathroom as a vanity.

Beautiful ironstone double handled container.
Perfect for a plant.

A phone for Mr. M.
It works.
He says that he can never find a phone when he needs them.
What can I say, there are both good and bad aspects of cordless phones.

A great vintage black suitcase, just the right black for Halloween.

I love the worn look.

Even though the weather was perfect, there were not too many vendors.
I was happy though.
I even called Mr. M. to join me with the kids, they can handle a small flea.
You see, the little guy, he is just NOT a shopper!
I asked Mr. M. where he may have gotten that trait from.
Mmmmm...I know a certain husband who just rolls his eyes when I ask him to come shop with me.

Oh well, I enjoy my own company.
I can walk as fast or slow as I want.
I don't stop and look at things that don't interest me.

So do you take your Mr. flea marketing with you?
Does he like to go?
How about the kids?

Thanks for stopping by and I hope you have a wonderful day.

Wednesday, August 29, 2012

On My Mind

Yes it is the last week of summer vacation for the little ones.
There will be lots of celebrations next Tuesday at 8:31.


I have other things on my mind.
Most would think it is too early.
Many may think I am MAD!


Picture from last year's Halloween party.

I have already been searching the internet looking for new decorating ideas.

This year we are going to try to have both a children's and an adult Halloween party.
The kids are almost excited as I am.


Saturday, August 25, 2012

Bad Haircuts

As you can probably guess from the title.  
I got a haircut.

I have always had a hard time with getting my hair cut.
I have natural curly hair.
I hated my hair all through high school.
You know the drill, those with straight hair wanted curly and those with curly wanted straight.
Mine as far as I was concerned was just bad.
I had cowlicks I was told.

I had long hair when I was young until the day my mother had the neighbor, a  hair dresser give me one of those
 Dorthy Hamill haircuts that was in style at the time.
Of course, having curly hair, it did not look like everyone else's.
It wasn't until I was in my twenty's that I found out why.
Humidity, a girl's worst nightmare for curly hair.

The worst haircut I ever got.
I had hair around shoulder length.
I asked for it to be feathered.
You know, that Farrah Fawcett look.

OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!!
I kid you not, my hair went from shoulder length to above my ears and as short as a boys.

I was sooooooooo upset.
I cried myself to sleep that night.
Even my best friend couldn't get me to come out of my room.
What could I do?
The person who cut my hair was another neighbor who was a hair dresser, and she was like a mother to me.
I was so mad, upset, devastated, just soooooo!

The only good thing about that haircut, it was so short I didn't have to do ANYTHING to it.
It was like being a boy, I could wash it and go.


It started growing out.
We women all know the horror of a bad haircut growing out.

Do you think I let anyone cut my hair after that.
I learned to cut my own hair for many years.
Even if it was bad, I had only myself to blame.

As I grew older I still hated my hair, but I just let it get long.
Put it in a pony tail.
I learned that I could delay the cutting by coloring my hair, red, brown, red again.
Just those temporary ones that last 24 shampoos.
I also let my bangs grow long, cut them short and grow back again.

It wasn't until I was in my twenty's that I really learned how to take care of my curly hair.
I learned that I had really curly hair.
So curly that I could make it into long ringlets if I just washed my hair and let it air dry.
Of course now I know why it was so bad when I was younger.
I learned to never comb my hair once it was dry or it would frizz like mad.
I learned that a bad hair cut could make my curly hair really stand out and look worse.

I didn't always want curly hair so I learned to straighten it.
I tried several different haircuts.
Only getting lucky every few years, I might actually like it,
or it only took 6 months to become the hairstyle I had actually wanted.
Only once a year, because then the hair would all grow out and I wouldn't hate it by then.
I let my hair get long.
Over the last 9 years, that once a year haircut, I always seemed to get the haircut for that year that I had asked for the year before.

I have even been daring and gotten my hair cut up to my ears.
That one I did kind of like, but it just took so long to grow back.
Hard to handle when it can't be put into a pony tail on those humid days.

I think the longest I let time go with out a haircut was three years.
I was not going to get my haircut and hate it for my wedding so I left it long.

The last three years I had been going to the same salon.
They actually did a good job the first two times, I liked my hair even though I still only got it cut once a year.

And that brings us to today.

I was excited, my daughter and I were going for our yearly haircut.
I booked the same hair dresser.
I knew how I wanted it to look.
I was very descriptive of both what I didn't like about the length now and how I wanted it to look after the haircut.

I even had her cut it TWICE, 
because I could tell it after the first time, it was not going to be the haircut I wanted.
I just let her style it.

Paid and left.

My daughter loved her haircut.

My husband knew.
He knew as soon as I got out of the car and my hair was up.
He knew.
He knew it could turn out to be a bad day.
He knew because when my sister called, she asked how's his day was.
He knew because he said we will find out when she gets home from her haircut.
He knew to hang back and ask quietly.
"Do you like it?"

I let my hair down.

He knows.
He knows to be quiet.
He knows to keep the kids away.


He knows that it may take weeks.
Even though he will say it looks great.
We know it does not matter how much they proclaim to like it.


The only good thing about this haircut.
Yes, even I can find the silver lining.
I already know how to style it!
I have been doing it for the last YEAR!

So tell me, have you EVER had a bad haircut?

Saturday, August 11, 2012

Better Than a Rock Star

This weekend we celebrated my husband's fire company field days.
It is something we look forward to each year.

Great food.
Fire truck parade.
Fried dough.

If you are lucky you might get to meet your hero.

I was sitting at a table in the fire hall waiting for Mr. M. to get ready to go home.
My oldest son Chase ran up to me.
He had a look on his face like he had seen a super star.

Like Justin Bieber, maybe.

No, even better.

"MOM," he said, "I am sitting next to THE DEPUTY SHERIFF!"

Story of picture found here.

The pure excitement on his face.
Well I had to do something about this.
I grabbed Mr. M. and told him to introduce his son to the Deputy.
Mr. M. and the deputy went to school together when they were kids.

Mr. M. introduced the Deputy to all three of our children.
You could just see the joy on Chase's face.

I was standing behind my son when he shook the deputy's hand.
With a grin so large on his face, he turned to me and said, " I am never washing my hand again."

Such a special comment, I could not keep it to myself.

I told the Deputy what my son had said.

He needed to know.

He needed to know he was my son's hero.

Not a rock star.
Not a sports star.
Not a movie star.

Even better.

A man who risks his life every day to protect those around him.

A Deputy Sheriff.