Vintage Bubble Dishes & UPS

My adorable parents sent me 10 boxes in the mail while “stationed” in Phoenix helping Grandpa downsize. It felt like Christmas morning when I happened to go to my front porch to grab some basil, and there was a gigantic stack of boxes with my name on them.

(You couldn’t knock, UPS man, and let me know? Geesh. I found out soon enough the quality of the UPS delivery man, however.)

Granted, most of the boxes had broken dishes in them. Thanks, UPS.

However, a few survived.

And they were gorgeous. My Grandma had good taste.

Enough survived that I could at least entertain with.

My Grandma passed away while my family (and I) were still living in Germany. I really never got to know her. I don’t have much from her, except a few pictures and a quilt she made for me as a baby.

But, now I have dishes that she once used. Or, at least the ones that weren’t smashed to smithereens.

And I am in love. I can’t wait to have a party and put these dishes to good use.

“New” Vintage Bubble Dishes seem like a good excuse to have a party. But really, any excuse is a good excuse for me to have a party.

So, who wants to come over?

How to be a dork and prepare for Television

As you may know, yesterday I was on Fox23’s morning show, Great Day Green Country showing off my fancy Homemade Household Cleaners. Ok, so they’re not really “fancy”, but I like to jazz things up a bit.

After all, Fox23 did give me a ridiculous title of “DIY Diva”.

 

If I may, I’d like to keep myself grounded (now that I am a big t.v. celebrity) and show you what I dork I am.

 

It may be no big deal to people accustomed to television debuts–however, I thought about the day of my appearance far in advance, then I over-thought it, then I over-thought my over-thoughts-again. I even looked for a new outfit, but reverted back to one of my favorite classics-this brown little ditty.

Now, for the behind the scenes nitty gritty.

I did buy new shoes that were never seen on air. But, they made me feel sassy and classy and that helps a girl when her pits are sweating because she’s so nervous.

The day before, I decided to have a bit of a dress rehearsal. First, I dug these curlers out of retirement and got busy making my hair “vintagey”.

I prayed to God that no one would knock on the door while I looked like this.

I fished my small collection of lipsticks out of retirement. Biceps isn’t into lipstick-for me or for himself, which works out fine since I usually end up with it all over my teeth anyways.

However, to be vintage-one must have red lips…

…and short red fingernails.

And also a cat named Maxwell that helps run lines.

During set up, I realized that not wearing anti-perspirant has its downfalls. Here’s the inside of my head during the live taping:

“Don’t lift your arms too high. They’ll see your pit sweat.”
“Look at the camera with the red light on. No, not that one. That one.”
“Look at the host, but not for too long.”
“You’re looking at him too long.”
“Don’t worry he called you Rebekah Gree-man. Forget it.”
“Should I correct him?”
“No.”
“Why am I here?”
“Did he just call me a ‘Shaman’?”
“What’s a Shaman?”
“I should look that up when I get home.”
“I wonder if Biceps will take me out to lunch when this is over.”
“Don’t lift you arms.”
“You lifted your arms.”
“It’s over already. What the heck did I just say?”
“I hope no one saw my weird mouth things that I do.”
“Put your arms down.”

Now you know that I’m a serious, Grade-A dork. With sweaty pits.

Good Morning, Sunday and Vinegar!

Sunday is reserved for church in my mind. It’s been that way my whole life. I look forward to seeing our friends and family, watching Biceps beat the heck out of the drums and spend time learning more about God.

Our church is growing rapidly and now has six services. Biceps drums in each service, so we are there most of the day. (But, we do take a tiny nap break in the middle.)

However, today Biceps is on duty and we only have the one car. Pictured above is my second favorite thing to do on a Sunday, but alas…it is not what I will be doing today.

My house needs a good scrubbing and I am the one to do it. I keep trying to convince the cats to start wearing dishcloth booties on their paws to help out, but they won’t have anything to do with that nonsense.

Today, I will be knee deep in vinegar, water, tea tree oil and sweat. But, I will be listening to praise and worship music and singing along.

So, it’s almost like I’m in church….with a little vinegar on the side. Happy Sunday!

Too old for that?

I am 34. There, my secret is out.

Photo Source
I no longer fit into the “hipster” category (and if I ever wear scarves with tassly things on the edges, please drag me out back and beat that urge out of me)…

…nor do I fit into the motherly “adult” category where my purse if full of band-aids, kleenex and juice boxes. Although, it is assumed here in Oklahoma that I am of age to have children, therefore, I have them. If at church on Mother’s Day, I am given a carnation by well-meaning but totally uninformed children–I am guessing due to my gray hair poking through my brown locks and the fact that I lack the tassly scarf.

I am in this weird interim of being too old to align myself with college students and too young to acknowledge I have a retirement account.

So, when asked by my nephews to play a game of basketball, I am tempted to pull the “old” card and sit on the side. After all, I just showered and why get all sweaty again?

I gaze at the bench on the sidelines and picture myself drinking my soda while cheering for the winners and the loosers.

But, if I did that, I would miss out on all this fun. And, it’s a good opportunity to show my nephews this old lady still has it. And not to mess with me, cuz’ I’ll elbow you right in the face. (Sorry about that, Tanner).

I don’t ever want to be too old for anything. I may get slower, less graceful and injured more easily-but never too old.