Vintage made new

Five years ago, I went to my first Holy Hill Arts and Crafts Fair.  One of the booths had a man from Indiana who made birdhouse decorations out of vintage Victorian salvage.  They were quite pricey and therefore I was not prepared to buy one.  I vowed I would return the next year and purchase one.  Well, life  happens and I had never been able to return to the fair because I always worked weekends.  I never forgot them, in fact, I've lusted after them ever since then.  

This is my year.  I went armed with plenty of cash and conquered.  I had chosen from his dozens of wares within seconds.  

The pictures don't quite do it justice.  It really is stunning.  The eaves are comprised of crown moulding...

A brass gas spigot adorns the top.  A hose would be attached to the front and the gas would be turned on and off with the the circle shaped 'key'.

An intricately designed copper doorknob plate serves as a backboard for the vintage glass doorknob.  Oh  how the sunlight dances off this feature!

The boards of the house are retired paneled doors given a fresh coat of paint which is then distressed to add to the vintage appeal....  Perhaps my second favorite feature is the appropriately-used pressed tin roof.  I would buy a Victorian house just to have one of these...

The last embellishment is a genuine drill bit topped off with a door stopper.

The completed house is encircled with a vine of fine cranberry and ivory faux berries.

I don't  have much for decorations in my home because I despise knicknacks and I firmly believe that less is more.  This decoration is by far my most favorite decoration in the house and probably will be forever.  My lust is satisfied.  For today.  :)

Junk Art

Today I went to the Mount Everest of art and craft fairs with my sisters and mom.  I picked up this dandy little Road Runner.  It made me feel nostalgic for that spry Road Runner of my youth.  The one whose bird brain could outsmart Wiley Coyote every time.
Even more fantastic is that is made entirely of junk.  Some creative soul rummaged through garbage, estate sales, and the like to bring home these gadgets and re-invent them.  I think I want to marry this person.  An artist, scavenger, and recycler.  The man of my dreams.  Well.  The man of my dreams today anyway.  I had a hard time picking out just one to take home.

I thought of my Pops when I saw this one.  It's head is a golf club as well as the tail made of handgrips.  A lonely basket has found new life as the body housing 2 golf balls.

My Road Runner has camp mug face, washers for eyes, and a wire basket feather plume.

The body is a an old cobalt pie pan with scrap metal tail.

And the feet are some kind of re-bar type cable.

C took the liberty of generously filling the pan for me.

Our backyard birds get the finest hand mixed cracked corn, black oil sunflower seed, and sleek nyjer.  They offer us song and beauty all year round.  Every day, we watch their goings on from our dining table seated just on the other side of our large windows.

A Lesson in Neurodiversity- Your Brain is A Rainforest

I came across this from a Facebook friend (and former classmate).  I could not have expressed it better myself and therefore I am sharing it.

http://www.odemagazine.com/doc/70/Your-brain-is-a-rain-forest/all

A Tender Moment

Last night, M and I snuggled in bed after his bath to watch Marley and Me.  C was already asleep.  I wasn't sure that I'd make it through the whole movie.  I was sure that I'd turn it off before the end came.  M rarely watches anything from beginning to end.  Especially if it is not animated.  So I was pretty amazed when he sat through the whole movie.
Somewhere in the middle I got up to check on C, make the sure the house was locked up tight, and brush my teeth.  When I emerged from the bathroom, M was curled up in the bed, rocked with huge sobs, the fat tears just rolling down his cherub cheeks.
I crawled in next to him and he rolled over to me and clasped onto me so tight.  Tighter than any other hug I've ever gotten from him.  He buried his face in my neck.  It took a good few minutes for him to answer my question, "What's wrong, baby?"
When his sobs finally took leave long enough for him to answer, he gazed up at me and said, "Mommy, I just miss Ripley so much!" and the sobbing returned.
I was gone.
I was right there with him, clinging onto him, sobbing in grief over the loss of our pet.  It's almost been a month since our loss, and I don't think I've cried that hard since the first week.  We spent the next 5 minutes cuddling and crying together.  I wiped his tears away and stroked his hair until he fell asleep.

I wasn't just mourning our pet.  I was ecstatic with the boy who was sobbing with me.  Like all Autistics, M struggles with emotions.  He can't read the emotions of others very well.  He cannot put his emotions into words.  Whatever he is feeling inside challenges him daily.  Autistic tantrums are usually the result of the inability to filter and deal with the world and the emotions it evokes.

But for him to spontaneously recognize his emotion, label it, and deal with it appropriately is the true miracle.  And I can't think of a harder emotion to deal with than grief.  Neurotypical people of all ages struggle with it, including myself.

This is my boy, M.  His Autism tries to hide him from me but I see him breaking through more and more each day.

Some people may think I am exaggerating this small feat.  I felt like time stood still in that moment.  I felt the earth move.  This encounter came with the strangest combination of grief and elation.

This memory is one that will stay with me forever and I am fortunate to have it.

Cakes of Birthdays Past 2

C's Mystery Machine cake from his 3rd birthday.  It also had chocolate donut wheels which is why he demanded them on his cake this year.

M had a store made Spongebob cake.  I was heartbroken that I couldn't make it for him but I was sentenced to bedrest because I had Frankenfoot surgery the next morning.

C's Mickey Mouse cake for his 1st birthday.  

My biggest failure at a cake.  It's supposed to be Buzz Lightyear.  Yeah. You can stop laughing now...........Anytime.....

More later.......

Cakes of Birthdays Past

Last October, my friend P turned 40.  Since it was so close to Halloween, I got a little psyched at doing a Halloween themed cake.  This cake is a 2 tier round with my Mom's famous buttercream frosting.  The ghosts are Nutter Butters cookies smothered in white chocolate with black cookie icing eyes and mouths.  The headstones are Mint Milano cookies with black cookie icing writing.  The 'dirt' is crushed Oreos mounded generously to simulate fresh graves.  The cake is embellished with candy pumpkins.

C offered his help in case P couldn't blow out all 4 of those candles....

I also made these because I thought they were sooo cute. They are made with 3 marshmallows stacked and held together with a pretzel stick.  Then they are wrapped loosely with Fruit by the Foot fruit leather.  The eyes are dotted on with green cookie icing.

Proof

In case there is any doubt that I clean my house......

It stays like this for approximately 15 minutes.  Then.....

*Sigh*  This drives my Hubs nuts.  He hates disorder.  Especially disorder that seems to seep from room to room throughout the house.  I agree with him sometimes.  My Type A personality gets anxious from the mess, too.  Then I remind myself that all too soon these precious little boys will grow up and leave us.  My stomach wrenches at the thought.  I know already I will miss their noise, their boisterous activity, and the mess they leave behind.  

Well, maybe not the mess.