How Clueless People Pick a Logo...

So as you may be able to see, I got myself a snazzy new logo for my blog and also my soon to be open Etsy store.  This has been a process, and I have had both fun and frustration in working it out.  I knew that I wanted something unique and eye catching.  I also know for a fact that I have absolutely NO artistic ability.  I started by going to one of my girls' friends that has lots of artistic ability.  She drew me an awesome picture which I used to base the final design on.

I then went shopping for a graphic artist who could turn my dream into reality.  Let me tell you that there are some very talented people out there.  I actually turned to Etsy to find this awesome lady.  She has made this daunting endeavor almost painless and economical to boot.  If you are in need of any graphic art needs shoot me a message or email and I will give you her name and answer any questions you may have.  In honor of this new logo I thought I would tell you four things you may not know about me but can probably tell from my logo.

1.  I love color and especially tie dye.  My family has made them for many years and I always get excited when I think about the next tie dye adventure.  (My husband always runs the other way when I mention those two words and get that look in my eye.)

2.  I have freckles.  I'm not a red head but you wouldn't know that if you looked at my arms and face if I'm out in the sun long enough.  I'm of Irish and American Indian descent and obviously the fair skinned and freckles side wins in that department.

3.  I have an I.D. bracelet that I wear on my left wrist and only take off when it is absolutely necessary.  It is a gift given to me by my husband that we call my "poker" bracelet which is another blog post in itself.  :)

4.  I'm crazy and I'm a momma of four beautiful girls.  I've already discussed the crazy part in a previous blog and being a momma is something I would never trade.

I'm very excited to share my logo with you and look forward to also sharing my Etsy store.  Have a wonderful 4th of July!

Crazed Momma

Life is a Thrill a Minute...

....when you are on a roller coaster.

I have usually written about things that I am crazy or passionate about because of the nature of my blog.  This post is about something that I am NOT crazy about.  Namely, roller coasters or thrill rides.  The reason this has been on my mind of course is because it's summer people and it's a time for carnivals and of course rides that you wouldn't normally put your children on or in but for some strange reason we place the little darlings in their respective seat and buckle them in and tell them to have fun!  You can imagine that they are thinking, "What in the world?  This woman won't even let me cross the street."

My thrill ride experiences have been few and far between mostly because my parents have always been very protective of me and they aren't big thrill ride people either.  I can also get motion sickness in a car so why would I pay to intentionally feel like barfing?

  One of my memories is having the carnival come to town when I was in High School and having to be there because I was in the band and we ran a concession stand.  There was a ride called the Zipper which I wouldn't have ridden if you had a gun to my head, but there was this boy. You know how stupid you can be when a boy is involved.  I wanted to be with him and so of course I climbed into one of the cages of death and allowed myself to be hurled at the ground over and over to show that I was cool and that I liked him.  That experience didn't go too bad.  I screamed the whole time and the adrenaline rush was such that I didn't hurl.  I felt so good about it that I agreed to go on the Octopus.  It was a  ride which spun round and round while you spun round and round in a cart.  I barely made it off that ride without tossing my enchiladas all over him.  Ah...youth.

When my husband and I were first married, we went to Dallas for our honeymoon.  My friend took us to Six Flags over Texas.  I was thrilled to be a "grownup"  and on my own and was obviously feeling full of myself because when we got in line for the log flume and the line split to go to the Texas Giant, I agreed that it was something that I needed to experience.  I figured I needed to get this over with so that I could always tell my children that Mommy had ridden the #1 wooden roller coaster in the world (in 1999) with an impressive drop of 79 degrees from 147 feet.  Now, remember I hate roller coasters AND am terrified of heights.  We ride this thing and at that time I was actually skinny and kept slipping under the bar that was supposed to keep us in.  My husband tells me that the picture they snapped of us "enjoying" the ride consisted of him smiling big and me looking close to death.  After riding it, I cried all night long.

My final foray into these confidence killers was at Disneyland.  They had just created California Screamin and it looked like a pretty cool roller coaster.  I didn't want my second oldest to be frightened of these things just because of me and so agreed to ride it with her.  We finally get up to the cars and climb in.  We make the first hill no problem and then after we climb up to the second hill the roller coaster stops DEAD.  I'm thinking it's part of the ride and then figure out that no, we are stuck at the top of this thing.  I'm trying really hard to keep my composure and not show my daughter how scared I am, but it's not working too well.  Finally, someone climbs the stairs up to where we are and promptly clips himself to a bar and informs us that we need to climb down.  WHAT?  Where's my clippy thingy dude?  We did eventually make it down the stairs and to the ground and I can honestly say that it was the last time I've felt the desire or need to ride one of these babies.

One of the great things about all this is that my shy daughter loves these rides and my outgoing daughter is reluctant to go on them.  You just never know.

Do you love the thrill of the ride or are you a scaredy cat like me?

The Texas Giant

Crazed Momma

A Strange Confession

So, I have a strange confession to make. I love to mow the lawn.  Maybe it's not so strange, but to those of you who are thinking I'm crazy, I will explain.

I grew up in West Texas where it is HOT and unless you have the money to pay for a sprinkling system, your lawn consists of lots of dirt, some weeds, some wildflowers and a little grass.  So mowing isn't really something I did growing up.  You can mow the weeds and it looks okay, but there's no walking around barefoot because the stickers will get you and they hurt!

When my husband and I were dating he sent me a postcard from Palm Springs with lovely green golf courses on the front. I remember telling him that if we were married I would mow the lawn. Of course, a lovely green lawn that I could walk across with my lovely painted toenails.  He thought it was a funny comment, but ultimately he has held me to it.  It may not be the prettiest lawn but it's mine and most of the time, I don't mind.

I don't know what it is about mowing that gives me such satisfaction...

Is it giving the grass a haircut and having it look okay even though I'm a novice?
Is it the fact that I can make something look so organized and put together with just a little effort?
Is it the fact that I can't hear anything that my children are yelling at me while I happily roll along?

As I have thought about it...okay so I dwell on weird things...I have decided that it's because I pretend that the grass is my problems or concerns and I have power over them by mowing them down.  It's all symbolic I guess. I also find that I can think and ideas flow while I'm making patterns around the front yard.  I find this is true with most yard work.

I have always been intrigued with the way people mow their lawns.  I usually go in a circle and sometimes back and forth.  It has to do with the shape of the yard more than anything else.  I have seen those lawns where someone has mowed it in a diagonal pattern. I wonder if I am missing something.  Am I not giving my grass every advantage by now mowing it in this way?  Who knows...

There are a few things that detract from my lawn gnomeness.  I usually am working with a lawnmower that has to be prepped, coddled, and eventually prayed over just to get it to start.  Another thing is my physical shape.  I'm not talking about my shape per say- which is a lovely apple with two toothpicks sticking out shape- but rather my lack of stamina.  I used to be able to mow both the front and back yard and weed whack all in one day.  I even mowed while I was very pregnant, which got me some strange looks and some eyebrows raised at my hubby.  Now, I have to pace myself. I am hoping to remedy this situation as time goes by.

So tell me, how do you mow your lawn?  Do you have strapping young men who mow at your request?  Do you have a hubby who suffers with his burden of cutting the grass or do you get out there and do it yourself?    Do tell!
 
Just in case you were wondering, I also love to rototill and am extremely deadly with a weed whacker so if you see me out in my yard, WATCH OUT!!  :) 


Naquai