Dear Family and Friends- I know that I haven't posted for a while...most of you know about Scott, but I wanted to let you know a little of what happened. Today, I am doing okay. Tomorrow, I will be back to work. The night before Scott passed, I sent in my paperwork to join up with BlogHer.com, a blogging network that will give my blog more exposure. I wouldn't want anyone to think that this is an attempt to "move on", but I do need to "move forward". Please don't think that I am abandoning my grief. Think of it as if I had a regular job (if you know of anyone hiring, let me know!) and that there are bills that will need to be paid. I have been blogging for almost 2 years now. Scott never understood why I loved to blog. He would ask me what I got out of it. I really just loved to do it. It was something that I decided to try on a monthly basis, just in case I didn't stick with it. Now...I think I was being prepared to earn a living, or maybe at least suppliment it. I hope that you have enjoyed coming to my website. If you do, you can continue to support me by clicking through to my website - there will be advertisements on my pages, and the more people that go there, the better my chances for earning a living through my ideas and writing. Thanks to all for your prayers, love and kindnesses. It helps me to continue on. Thank you, thank you, thank you, with all my heart!
Happy 4th of July!
I am quickly approaching my 55th birthday – a time of great celebration on my part because I have almost survived 55 years here on this 3rd rock from the sun. There are many distractions in life that can keep us from recognizing the things that we should hold close to our hearts. But here is a reminder of how important the little things can be. What a blessing to know that I am a child of God and that He loves me! My name is Helen, I’m almost 55 and I’m a Mormon!
Be careful how you judge others.
I have a dual personality...find out what my new calling is!
I came home from running an errand this afternoon to find an empty spackle bucket filled with something different…wild white roses. I always love flowers and this surprise was most welcome. To my great distress, as I was taking them out of the bucket and placing them into the vase, they began to disintegrate at the gentlest touch of my hands. After querying my boys as to their origin, and they not claiming any responsibility, I gave my husband a quick call. He explained that as he was visiting a friend earlier in the day, the gentleman remarked that his wife had planted a long row of white roses along their fence years ago (she has long since passed) and would be happy if someone would enjoy them, urging Scott to take some home for me. Scott could see that they were not really the sort for picking in the first place, and even less so because their petals were already falling so quickly, but he has a kind heart and agreed enthusiastically to take them home…to his sweetheart. And so they sit precariously on my sofa table, this very casually arranged bouquet of roses, waiting for my 19-year-old to accidentally aim the fan in the wrong direction and watch the floral snow scatter around the living room and I wonder…have I left behind anything tangible that my sweetheart will be able to
Where do those missing socks go and how do I find them?
Regarding the earthquake in Japan...
I am a woman with a dilemma. As I stood in my barely useable kitchen, having to move a stack of chairs with a giant cardboard xBox character (as a mom, I’m not so hip) brandishing a weapon stacked nearly to the ceiling (the character, not me), to put brownies in the oven (I am running a day late) for my 19-year old’s birthday dessert, wanting to have a day of rest but knowing that I should seriously start cleaning (or is that start serious cleaning…on the Sabbath, no less!), wanting desperately to take a nap but knowing that no one else will hear the timer go off, let alone go pull the browines out of the oven, all the while wondering how I ever got myself into this situation and how I will ever get out. It reminds me of that old black and white silent film series, “The Perils of Pauline” – and no, that isn’t from my era. But I feel much like a damsel in distress, tied to the railroad track with a train speeding towards me or maybe I’ve been tied to big log and I’m headed towards the giant saw (oh…that sounds like it came from a more current movie that I will not watch); or maybe I’ve been blindfolded and tied up and kidnapped by wild Indians (in the form of my family) and tossed
So…I was at CHAW (a craft and hobby trade show) last month. I was handing out business/contact cards to people that I knew from ages ago and some I was meeting for the first time. It reads: just helen and included my name, my typepad blogsite, email address and phone number. It’s what you do at trade shows…make contact with people/companies and “ooo” and “ah” over wonderful new product and tools. So, I was in the EK booth and ran into Larry, who I have known pretty much since I got involved with the business end of scrapbooking. (When I first worked with scrapbooking.com and he was with Chatterbox, I would try to sell him banner space for the website.) Anyway, our paths have crossed many times over the years and at least once a year at trade shows. When he read my card, he looked puzzled and asked, “Just Helen? What? Did you get a divorce?”. Huh??? What the heck was he talking about? Since when do people go around handing out cards at a trade show announcing their changed marital status? Or maybe they do – but not in my world! In an industry that sees yearly change in company faces (small companies get sucked up by big corporations, artists change their licensing agreements with vendors, individuals change jobs with competitors, and others partner up to expand their production capabilities) I suppose
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Oh what fun it is to work with October Afternoon's Holiday Style product line! ...
