Story Telling

Last week was Drew and Meghan's baby shower. Whole families were invited to attend and this was the post script on the invitations, "Gentlemen: You are welcome to bring a Daddy Survival Gift."  Not surprisingly, Drew received assorted libations, several books like 50 Dangerous Things You Should Let Your Children to Do and The Dangerous Book for Boys and even a coveted set of vintage Lawn Jarts with the original metal tips! BOYS! It seems like whenever they... meaning men and BOYS... get together, they find new ways to flirt with danger, and the larger the "pack" the more perilous their feats become! The photos above were taken at a backyard barbecue last year, when the boys decided it would be great fun to deconstructed part of the play structure to caber toss??? Now, this doesn't mean women and girls are incapable of behaving in a reckless manner, I'm just saying... Anyway, all of this reminded me of a post on One Generation to Another, first published June 24, 2008. Enjoy!   

Is it just me or as a girl is it sometimes hard to totally get BOYS? I should. I didn’t have sisters. I was raised with 3 brothers, so by association, I probably did more boy things than many girls. And I had 2 boys of my own. But there’s this line…let’s call it, hmmm…common sense…that most girls won’t cross. I don’t mean to be sexist, but in my vast years, it has been my experience that boys will often do things that most girls wouldn’t consider. Before anyone says anything, yes, I know, many of us were “Tom Boys”, loved to run and play sports, weren’t afraid of spiders, and could spit with the best of them. What I’m talking about here is that unexplainable willingness to put your body at risk and do unimaginably gross things for, for, see, there’s my point, I really don’t get why they do some of the things they do! BOYS!!!

Take the movie Jack *ss. Now, this is a movie you couldn't have dragged me bound and gagged to the theater to view. But, while visiting my son in South Carolina, he was flipping through stations and stumbled upon it. I sat there for about 20 minutes watching this movie with Adam and Tim and saw one man put a leech on his eyeball, another strap a rocket to his back and allow himself to be shot out into the middle of a lake, and another drink an unmentionable animal excretion. While watching this I groaned, but Tim and Adam chortled, and used words like “Sweet” and seemed to be cheering the men on from the couch. I found myself asking “Who in their right mind would do something like that?” and the apparent answer…BOYS!

Sure, you say... but that’s just a movie. Those guys get paid a ton of money to do stuff like that. Again, referring to my vast years, it has been my experience that most men and boys don’t need an incentive beyond a dare to do something totally moronic! For example, one of my brothers’ favorite pastimes was playing a variation of dodge ball. In their version, they’d turn off all the lights in the basement, stealth around the room, and throw darts at one another. They encouraged me to join in the fun, but I was disinclined to acquiesce to their request! Common sense and a healthy fear of pain wouldn’t allow me. Our daughter Liz's boyfriend, Kyle was relating a story about when his family was putting a pool in his parent’s backyard. They were unearthing tons of worms. At one point his dad held one up to his sister and said, “I’ll give you $20.00 right here, right now if you eat this.” She grimaced and shook her head. “No way,” she said. Kyle then offered to eat one for $20.00. When his dad refused, he shrugged his shoulders, and let one slide down his throat anyway. BOYS!

Boys dare each other to put their tongues on batteries, jump off anything that is high, and sneak into any place they are forbidden to go. They also possess, what can only be a throw back from Neanderthal days, a fascination with fire. Every man I have every known has some horrific story involving fire. And if you think they outgrow this, look no farther than your backyard barbecue. It might be hard to get your hubby in the kitchen to throw together Mac N’ Cheese, but give him a slab of meat and a healthy fire, and wah-lah…dinner! (Of course any real man will make the distinction between cooking and grilling!) Add their incomprehensible fascination with blowing up things, and it’s no wonder they have to fight the urge to cut across 3 lanes of traffic whenever they pass a roadside fireworks stand! BOYS!!!

As a young girl I did not question the adage “BOYS will be BOYS” I just had no idea that the average 65 year old man still possess a healthy dose of BOY. When traveling in a pack, grown up men still do idiotic things. Go to a chicken wings bar with a group of men. You’ll still hear comments like, “I dare you to put 10 drops of Diablo Hot Sauce on your tongue.” I can guarantee you there will be at least one taker, if not the whole table, that will do it. A couple of years ago, at a family backyard picnic, the men decided it would be great fun to take turns running across the backyard as the group on the sidelines tried to shoot bottle rockets at them. The women watched, occasionally putting out a smoking shirt, and plotted the quickest route to urgent care. There is no doubt that men can be mature. They are doctors and lawyers; factory workers and mailmen; pilots and priests. They do their jobs…we count on them. But every once in a while, the 10 year old resurfaces, and they are invincible…able to leap tall buildings, jump through burning hoops, or eat a garden worm on a dare. BOYS!!!

You might wonder what inspired the theme for this week's blog. Well, with summer upon us, I'm sitting here listening to fireworks going off in our neighborhood. Besides trying to encourage our gun shy border collie to stop shaking, I have this unexplainable desire to keep our fire extinguisher at arms reach. Let's face it, with boys around you can never be too careful!

So, what's the craziest BOY thing your dad, brother, son, boyfriend, husband, or other significant male has done that made you shake your head and say, "BOYS!"?

The children in The Thicket always look forward to the approaching summer months. This means the days themselves grow like weeds, with more hours of daylight allowing for more hours of fun. But this also means, that at the close of the day, the wee ones are often allowed to sit around the campfire with their elders, and hear tales as old as The Thicket itself. There are tales of extreme heroics, tales of warning, tales of wild shenanigans, and their very favorite, tales of the unexplained, and often spooky, happenings in The Thicket. Often they fall asleep while listening and mysteriously find themselves safely tucked in their beds come the morning.

Making your own campfire is very easy and an important mainstay in the life of your gnome.

WARNING: There are small pieces in this project which can be a choking hazard. Not for children under 3 years of age or children that are likely to place small objects in their mouth.

Materials:
1/8" Masonite or dense cardboard
small pebbles
little twigs
raffia, small wood shavings, or dried grass
red food coloring
crafting glue

1] Cut out a 4" circle from 1/8" Masonite using a scroll saw or by hand with a coping saw. You may also use thick cardboard. It must to dense enough to support the weight of the rocks.

2] Place a thick bead of crafting glue around the edge of the circle. Note: I originally used hot glue but the pebbles fell off over time. I found the crafting glue held them in place much better.

3] Fit a ring of pebbles in the glue, pressing them in place. Add additional glue around the rocks to insure a tight connection. The glue will dry clear.



4] When the rocks have thoroughly dried, cover the entire bottom of the circle with glue.

5] Sprinkle coffee grounds on the glue, making sure you have good coverage. Let dry. When dry, turn the campfire over and gently shake to remove loose grounds.

6] Build a fire by breaking thin twigs to size. Generously use crafting glue to hold together.




7] Before the glue dries, cut grass, wood shavings or raffia into small pieces and dye with red food coloring to make flames.


8] Sprinkle "flames" on campfire. They will adhere to the wet glue.

9] When the glue has thoroughly dried, turn it upside down and gently shake to remove loose flames. You are now ready to gather the gnomes around the campfire and begin spinning tales!

It began as a desire to have a few props for some of Leo Lionni's books. I especially wanted to focus on It's Mine. I began by drawing a frog and toad to be cut from wood, which I shall be sharing as soon as I cut out my toad. I then decided the frogs needed lily pads to jump around on. And then you have to ask yourself... what fun is a lily pad without a lily?

Although I was thinking of book props when I crafted this, I can think of many other ways this water lily could be utilized. Wouldn't several of them look spectacular on your spring/summer nature table? I should have the tutorials up in the next few days. I can't believe I'm saying this, but this past week I only have time to craft and blog when the pups are napping! They are doing great, btw :) Anyway, watch for the patterns and instructions over the next few days. 

It's been a while since I shared a story from One Generation to Another. This post was first shared May 6, 2008, but since spring has graced our neck of the woods early this year, and our gardens are waking up, I thought of this. I hope you enjoy it. 

So, it’s spring and any self respecting Pietrowski woman (mother’s lineage) knows what that means. It’s time to turn your house inside out and give a good shake. I remember coming home from school on spring afternoons to a house in total disarray. Given the fact that my mom’s house always appeared perfect, nah, dare I say WAS perfect, to walk into a house with curtains off the windows, mattresses turned sideways, and the contents of a closest spewed across the floor was a tad bit unsettling. It also meant…drum roll please…I needed to clean MY room.

In my opinion, my mom’s “thorough” cleaning was superfluous. Best I could tell she cleaned what was already clean. I could not make the same statement about my room. Sure, to live in my mom’s house the “observable” surface of the room needed to be clean, but she was moderately tolerant of hidden messes. Although I’m sure she probably laid awake at night tossing and turning thinking about the condition of my drawers, she chose her battles wisely, and reserved enforcing her standards of “clean” for those times of the year when her sanity hinged on “total tidy” compliance! True, there were times when I’d need to grab a ruler from the kitchen to try to unjam a constipated drawer, but I knew where everything was…in my drawer! Duh! But my mom had this misbegotten idea that when you opened a drawer you should be able to view the contents of said drawer. I kinda viewed my drawers as an archaeological dig…there were layers and stratas, and digging was often involved when I wanted to find a barrette or pencil. Truth be told, I often gave up and went and got a new pencil from the kitchen. (That’s why when I finally cleaned out my drawers I’d often unearth 2 or 3 dozen pencils!) But the bottom line was, when my mother spring cleaned, we all spring cleaned! So, on those spring cleaning days, I was apt to find the contents of my drawers spilled out in the middle of my floor with the edict…“Don’t come out until your room is clean!” I have this vague recollection of being chained to a bedpost, with days or perhaps even weeks passing, with mere life sustainable rations of bread and water being slipped under my door as I labored tirelessly in my room.

Although my memory has been known to exaggerate or even to reinvent itself, I am left with a strong disdain for spring housecleaning. But who can blame me? The minute it gets nice outside, I’m like an eight year old, mucking about outside, refusing to come indoors except for sleep and sustenance. The thought of spending time indoors, after being cooped up all winter, seems downright blasphemous to me! I suppose you could use this same argument to support spring cleaning. Arguably, we are probably programmed with a biological propensity to spring clean. It probably began with Neanderthal women. I’m sure that after being holed up in a cave all winter, with dismantled animal carcasses and putrid air laced with the fumes of the unwashed hordes, nice weather finally meant a garbage exorcism and the delousing of their abodes. Understandable. But I have the luxury of disposing of noxious substances throughout the year, and the corners of my house are not stacked with discarded bones and makeshift privies! So, when nice weather rolls around, my only spring inclination is to open the windows!

Probably the main reason I don’t spring clean is…I TOTALLY trash my house in the spring! Spring means the gardens are waking up, and I’m there to greet them. It also means rain and mud, mud and rain. Short of lightning storms, come nice weather, I’m outside gardening. Tim refers to my gardening technique as “full body gardening”. I start out each day with an innocent “stroll” through the gardens. If I see a weed I very daintily bend over and pluck it. If it resists I’m apt to kneel down to give it a good tug. If it is still stubborn I pull out my gardening wagon. Next thing you know my butt’s planted in the bed and the dirt is flying. (As I write this blog I’m picking spiders out of my hair, and the dirt embedded under my fingernails is free falling into my keyboard!) Since I move and rearrange plants in my garden with the same regularity that I shower and eat, my pockets and cuffs, hair and nails, transport the great outdoors indoors! Most people have wall-to-wall carpeting or hardwood floors…in the spring and summer we live in a dirt floored hovel! I just can’t be bothered to clean!

I will eventually get around to spring cleaning… in the fall…when I contemplate the long house bound months ahead, and I look around and say, “Oh, dear Lord! I think there are pumpkins growing under the dining room table!” I’m THEN hit with the urge to shovel out the dirt, flip mattresses and wash windows. General thought…if I’m going to be stuck in the house for the winter it’s going to be in a clean house! So, for everyone with the instinctual desire to spring clean, I say “Good luck, and I hope ya have a jolly time!” As for me…I'll be in the gardens! (And, an aside to my house…“I’ll see you in the fall!”)

Does nice weather bring on your urge to clean and organize? Or does nice weather bring on an Exodus from indoors to outdoors?

Britta awoke with mixed feelings. Today was St. Patrick's Day, which meant the leprechauns would be leaving The Thicket for places unknown. "Perhaps, just perhaps", she thought, "I may miss them just a wee bit." But Britta was ready for the pranks to end and for order to be restored to her household.

She cautiously got out of bed, and tip toed around the room. "Surely the leprechauns wouldn't leave without a final prank." She made her way down the stairs, peeking around corners and watching each time she set a foot on the ground. When she entered the kitchen she stopped aburtly.

The leprechauns had been in the house during the night! There, hanging from the post, was a beautiful Rainbow Banner, and under the banner was a pot... "Could this be the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow?" she wondered. Slowly, she lifted the lid of the pot, and she gave out a wholehearted laugh.

The leprechauns had left her a pot of gold; a pot of golden honey, enough to last the family the entire year! Britta dipped her finger into the honey and took a taste. "Yum", she said. "This will be far more useful to me than a silly old pot of gold!" In the distance she heard a soft chuckle. In a loud clear voice, to no one in particular, Britta said, "I will have to thank the leprechauns next year, when they return to The Thicket!"

The pattern for the Rainbow Banner can be found HERE or with our FREE Patterns. Following the pattern, applique the rainbow strips to the front of the banner, then sew the front to the back using a blanket stitch. Using the pattern guide lines, sew two lines of running stitches to create a casing to hang the banner. For more detailed directions for making banners, check out the instructions for making the Valentine Banner. Enjoy!

Britta woke early, ready to nurse the twins and start her day, but when she sat up in bed, she felt a strange, ticklish sensation on her cheek. When her eyes fully focused, she looked around the room. It looked like a giant spider had woven a web throughout the whole room during the night! She highly doubted the existence of a mammoth spider in The Thicket, but was rather confident that this was yet another of the late night shenanigans of the leprechauns. Britta shook her head and counted off on her fingers; Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday. Just eight days til St. Patrick's Day; just eight more days until the leprechauns would be leaving The Thicket.

But Britta had to smile. Although Axel stomped around the house during the day complaining about the foolhardiness of  those scoundrels, she noticed he slipped away each night, after he thought Britta to be fast asleep, and would join them at the campfire. She could hear his voice blending with theirs while they sang ballads and told stories.

"It really wasn't SO bad", she decided as she looked around the room plotting her escape. She decided she probably wouldn't mind the pranks of the leprechauns nearly as much if she could only deal with them AFTER her second cup of chicory tea! 

Lately I've been thinking about all the lovely new friends I've been meeting recently... many of them from the blogging world. It reminded me of this piece I had written for One Generation to Another March 9, 2008. So, for no particular reason, this is for all my friends... old and new!  

If you were ever a Brownie you know the song…

Make new friends, but keep the old,
One is silver and the other’s gold.

New friends are great! They’re kinda like a “do over”. I ran into a neighbor “boy” that was home visiting his parents. He is now married and he and his wife bought their first home. After we were chatting for a while he said, “Boy, I was a jerk in high school. I wish I could go back and apologize to a ton of people.” The truth is he was a jerk. He was a bully, and he and his friends terrorized many insecure classmates. A dear friend’s son was often the target of his cruelty. And perhaps not surprisingly, but totally irrational, this “jerk” was quite popular. I looked at this neighbor “boy” and I thought, “You know, I think you really have changed.” He was nice mannered, pleasant and very communicative. Anyone who met him now would have a profoundly different impression of him than his classmates and teachers did back in his high school days.

New friends fall into the category of “Variety is the spice of life.” As we go through our lives, interests change. Maybe in college you were the partying sorority girl. Now, by some cosmic hiccup you’ve become, of all things, a crunchy mom. How is that even possible? And although you hold tightly to your old friends, it’s wonderful to make new friends that share your present mindset. (There’s no way your still single college roommate who continues to party every weekend would give a flying leap that you found a supplier of organic diaper wraps!) So, new friends, with common interests, allow you to share a slice of your life…maybe, some day, they will become “old friends”, but for the time being, they enrich our lives and embellish our personal tapestry.

But this blog is really about “old friends”…those friends that have been with us through thick and thin. They’ve seen us at our best…and our worst. They may be people we talk to every day or just exchange annual newsletters with at Christmas time, but they are the people who “knew us when”. Several years ago I took an “old friend” to the community Bible study I belonged to. We’ve been friends since she was 16 and I was 19…so, hmmmm, OMG…34 years! Irrelevant, other than demonstrating that we’ve been together for a long time! Anyway, we were sitting in the pews of the church where a visiting speaker was talking about temperance. She was this little old lady, who was standing on a stool to be seen above the podium. She was waving her hands, slamming her fist on the lectern, talking about the evils of alcohol. Now, I can guarantee you, being raised Catholic, I had never once heard a sermon quite like this one. I think this is what Carrie Nation must have sounded like! Anyway, with a grin on my face, I leaned into my friend to make a comment, but when I turned around I noticed she had slid about 6 feet away from me. I whispered, “What are you doing?” And with a completely deadpan face she whispered back, “When the lighting hits, I don’t want to be sitting too close to you!” I faked a coughing attach, and made my way to the bathroom just in time to avoid wetting my pants! There wasn’t a single other person in that room who could have made that comment to me. She continually tells friends that the only time she ever got in trouble was when she was with me. When our children were young, her father always grimaced when she mentioned I was watching her kids and to this day he develops facial tics when my name is brought up! Old friends!

Every Wednesday morning I meet a group of “old friends” for coffee, aforementioned friend being among them. We’ve known each other for eons. I remember when we use to talk about “boys”, then babies and stretch marks. We’re still talking about stretch marks, but also about menopause, our husband’s heart attack, saggy boobs, and the grand babies. We also talk about politics, books, our children, and hot actors. (Quite true!) And we still talk about our youth. (Again, ask my pew pal about “chaps and the Marriot”…I think she blew the entire thing out of proportion…at least that’s what the guys in the band would say!) But, I digress…

But there you have it…our existence is a kaleidoscope of old and new friends, everyone adding a little to our life. As time goes by we find some of our new friends and acquaintances are temporary or “situational” friends, but some hold fast and become kindred spirits. I’ve forgotten the name of some friends I’ve made over the years, yet I am grateful that they were there when I needed them. But I must admit, I am every so grateful, and feel blessed, every time I think about my handful of close friends. The ones who knew me when…and to quote Simon and Garfunkel in their song Bookends…

Time it was and what a time it was it was,
A time of innocence, a time of confidences.

There is no overriding purpose to this week’s blog other than acknowledging the value of friendship. I wish all my friends out there, the old and the “new”, a lifetime of friendships that grow and flourish and bestow untold smiles upon your days!

Britta was awaken by the lovely sound of birds singing in the forest trees. When she opened her eyes, however, she realized she was much closer to the forest than she had been when she went to sleep the night before. It seemed that at some time during the night, the bed that she shared with Axel, was removed from their home and carried far into The Thicket. Leprechauns! Britta thought of waking Axel, then took a deep breath, smelling the intoxicating fragrance of the mossy ground and the pine trees, and she snuggled back under the warm covers, snickered quietly and whispered, "No harm done" before falling back into a gentle sleep.

Directions for making the bed, mattress and pillow can be found HERE.

Knitting Instructions for Spring Bedspread

Materials:
size 3 knitting needles
sock yarn (You might like... Regia Kaffe Fassett Sock Yarn - Exotic Clay)

1] Loosely cast on 40 stitches.

2] Repeat the 4 rows of the pattern until piece measures 7".

Pattern:
Row 1: "P2, K2" across row.
Row 2: "K2, P2" across row.
Row 3: P row.
Row 4: K row.

3] Loosely cast off. Weave in ends.

Ever since the Leprechauns returned to The Thicket, Britta has been noticing a few oddities. Jackets and shawls disappear and reappear, the order of the shoes lined up by the backdoor get rearranged, and her bookmark gets moved nightly. Whenever Britta complains to Axel about the leprechauns, he shrugs and chuckles. "No harm done", he always says.

This morning Britta prepared Axel's favorite breakfast; blueberry tarts and acorn omelets. After his first couple of bites, Axel pushed away from the table with a confused look on his face. 

 "Britta, what's going on? Breakfast is awful!"  

 Sure enough. The blueberry tarts were too salty to eat, and the acorn omelets were too sweet to swallow. Britta had a bad feeling. She went to her larder. Sure enough, those pesky leprechauns switched the sugar and the salt!

 Britta mimicked Axel and in a deep voice said, "No harm done, right?"

  But I don't think Axel heard her. With his stomach rumbling, he left the house in a huff, and he could be heard bellowing, "RONAN, you no good rascal, show yourself."  

To make sacks of flour, rice, salt and sugar for your gnome house:

Materials:
felt pieces
stuffing
pattern

1] Make copy of pattern and cut out 2 pieces of felt for each sack.

2] Transfer names to bag fronts and embroider name using a stem stitch and 3 strands of floss.

3] With wrong sides together, Pin the sack front to the sack back. Using a blanket stitch across the top and a running stitch around the other 3 sides, stitch the sack closed with 3 strands of floss, leaving an opening on one side for stuffing.

4] Stuff with wool, cotton or fiberfill and finish sewing up the side.

5] Pinch each corner so seams are touching and tack together using 3 strands of floss.

Now place in your gnome's larder, but keep them safely locked away... especially when there are leprechauns around!

I know Britta must be thinking... why would a perfectly lovely lady (me) knowingly encourage leprechauns to run amuck in the Thicket? Well.... because at heart, I think we all have a little leprechaun in us, especially at this time of year! So, I would like to introduce you to our little Gnome Leprechauns. And, yes, we do have multiple leprechauns in The Thicket, although it seems the ring leader of the group is this feisty little lad named Ronan. Ronan and his cohorts are country leprechauns, donning modified gnome hats, unlike the top hats and bowlers often seen on city leprechauns. (For those in the know... it looks a lot like a Gandalf or Sorting Hat :)

If you dare, you can make your own leprechaun... but be warned, Wee Folk Art accepts no responsibility to the havoc they may wreak! You can get the directions HERE or with our Free Patterns.