My Kids Want This

Think how much easier it would be if we could just slide downstairs.

 My kids want this bad and I do too!!

Cheers!

Holly Raleigh

Hi everyone! Save the date. Please stop in if you are in the area.

Ciao for now!

BLOG HOP '10

Today I am going to try something different, something, dangerous, something- TECHIE. This is hard for someone who finds it difficult to log into her computer. I mean seriously, I am sooooo not computer savvy. Heidi my friend over Hip Chicks Craft Too can give you many examples of my non-tech ways.

But I will try to do this.

Here goes:

I will attempt to link up to Robin's Blog Hop '10 Party. This is a way to "meet" other bloggers.

For those of you who are regulars here at Swing Time, thank you, thank you for your support and hang tight as I attempt this.

Drum roll please . . .

Oh first, I must do a little bio thingy of who I am which is hard in itself. I mean, who am I? Wow, that's deep. Who are we? Lets pause and reflect . . .pause  . . .pause

Went to get coffee.

Ok back to my mission

Drum roll again  . . .

I am Ann without an E. I am a mother and a wife.

My beautiful, wise beyond their years, boys have taught me to let go of past restraints and become the artist, and writer that I've always wanted to be.

Each day I wake up and think, how did these little guys get to be so wonderful? Then I remember, it's my outstanding parenting skills.  :) 

While you journey with me at Swing Time Designs you will experience some of the quirky things that always seem to happen to me.  You will also experience a taste of the Northwest, get ideas for crafts and recipes. And maybe one day you will read that I got a book published. Of course I will send you a signed copy.

No worries.

 

 

Please come along. I love company.

Verdant Oasis Or Was It?

In my never ending attempt to keep my boys busy (only three days into Summer break mind you) we took a walk. As we meandered through the lovely fields, down green paths, over wooden bridges,  an ever increasing familiar sound fluttered my way. One which made me walk. Very fast. Back to the car. 

It was the sound of Jack starting a sneezing fit which, by the way, didn't stop until we rushed back to the car, hightailed it for home, tossed him in the shower and gave him a dose of allergy medicine. The very important medicine that I forgot to hand out.  DUH!

Two swollen eyes, one bloody nose, and a partridge in a . . . I mean, sneezing fit later and I promised not to forget it ever again.   

Maybe tomorrow will be better.

Renaissance Faire Was A Blast!

The Renaissance Faire is over all the armor is put away for another year.

.

But it was a wonderful event. The kids really got into it. So much fun.

 The knights battling was one of the many highlights.

My contribution was making signs for the refreshments, such as "The Kings Own Cheese Pie" for the pizza, or "Off With Your Bread Croissant's" and "Fare Thee Well Pepperoni Sticks". I had fun with the titles. Can you tell?

Mystic Circle Club

For as long as I can remember I have loved researching my families history. You could say I am a genealogyaholic ( I just made that word up).

One evening when I was looking through a Historical Society Quarterly of Carroll County, Arkansas, where my mom is from, I found an article and an old photo of The Berryville Mystic Circle Club (above photo). The article says the circle of woman was formed in 1900 and disbanded in 1914. The members would never would say why they disbanded.

Hmmmm.

The article also says most of the woman are wearing the Mystic pin. What is this Mystic pin??

Hmmmmm

So I went on line and Googled Mystic Circle Club.

Here are my top choices,

A Mystic Circle song called Dark Passion-hmmm I think not.

A musical group called Mystic Circle/Black Metal. Creators of such heart lifting ballads as Dragon Slayer, We Swore Damnation To All Gods Creatures, and the good old standby, Medina Whore Of Satan. I am pretty sure this has nothing to do with these ladies.

Next was a Masonic Brotherhood website with the slogan, Taking good men and making them better. I am almost 100% sure this has nothing to do with these woman unless it was some sort of Masonic woman's club (while their husbands were busy -- type thing) but I think Masonic stuff is for men thus the word, brotherhood.

Well, the list went on and nothing fit. I can't imagine these woman starting a little Wicca group in the Arkansas woods but who knows.

If anyone has any idea what these woman were up to in Berryville, Arkansas please drop me a line.

Five Stages Of Joe's Morning Grief

My 8 year old, Joe, has my genes . . . the bad ones.

On the top of the list is the “struggling to get out of bed in the morning gene”. Seriously, the little guy has a hard time and I feeeeel his pain. It doesn’t matter how early he goes to bed, he finds it very hard to motivate himself to move out of his cozy cocoon and face the harsh reality of the cold world.

But I have noticed a pattern in his wake up routine. Does this sound familiar to anyone?

On my initial contact I yell, “Time to get up, Jo Jo!”

His response- Denial. He actually says, “This can’t be, it’s too early. Wh--y?”

Next, I approach his room, flip on the light. “Come on Joe. You don’t want to be late.”

His response- Anger. “No! I don’t want to get up. No! I’m not getting up.” He says this

automatically as if from memory. I ignore. It will pass.

My next tactic is a little harsher. I push open the curtains and pull back the covers exposing his little body to the chill in the air (before you call Child Services you must know our house is always set at a toasty 70+).

His Response-Bargaining. “Just five more minutes, please. I promise I will get up in five minutes.”

Then the big one, I toss his clothes on his head. This is a little mean but I kinda find it funny.

His response- Depression- “Sto--p Mooooom, I can’t get up. I‘m soooo tired. I want to stay in bed all day,” he says in a mournful voice, which sounds vaguely familiar.

Finally, I push his clothes off his head and pull him up by his arms. I usually have to say something like “You are going to miss ESPN’s top ten countdown.”

His response- Acceptance. “Ok—ay, I’m up,” he says as he stumbles off the bed, and down the hall, rubbing his head as he bumps into a chair, then a dresser.

The entire time I want to grab him toss him back in bed snuggle with him and say, “I know how you feel.”

Poor Joe has my affliction. You should see what my husband has to do to get me out of bed. On second thought, it’s not pretty.

Wake Up Call

My day started off with an interesting phone call.

Don't ask me why, but my husband put an old phone underneath our bed. He actually plugged it into the phone jack and outlet so when it rang this morning, I had no idea what was happening. I bolted upright wondering what the heck that unfamiliar ringing was. When I realized it wasn't my ears, I started listening for the source.

My husband was already off to work, so I couldn't yell for him.

After a few moments of confusion, I focused hard on the direction of the ring. I soon realized it was coming from under the bed. With all the strength I could muster at 6:00 something in the a.m. I crawled across our king size bed, and dipped over the edge. My hand flailing around under the bed to try and find the dang thing.

Eureka! I found it and pulled the phone out but by then the answering machine inside of the phone (who knew it had one) picked up. That's when things got interesting.

This is what the lady said:

"Hello, hello," she said with panic, despair, and an edge of annoyance in her voice. "This call is for Cindy Harris, or Morgan, or Riggs, whatever last name you are using now."

She paused and sniffled.

"Ted has died, and so has Steve, and my mother is barely hanging on but not expected to last."

Shocked, I shook my head unable to believe what I was hearing. I was glued to the conversation but I also felt bad because she obviously thought my number was Cindy's number and Cindy needed to know this info.

What if this woman assumed Cindy got this info and Cindy never did, so never returned her call, so . . .so Cindy would be in trouble and I would have the info . . . All these thoughts were racing through my mind. Should I just press end? Would she think Cindy didn't care? I was torn between my sick sense of curiosity, guilt and shock. My hand hovered above the receiver.

Then I heard her take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Some new documents have surfaced. And they are quite disturbing," she said. "They have some information in them--"

And that's when I couldn't take it any more. My guilt won. I picked up the phone and told the lady that she had the wrong number. She was silent at first, then she choked up a bit and said she was sorry three or four times before hanging up.

All day long I have been dying to know what those disturbing documents said. What did the lady find? Who is Ted? Why did he die? Was there a car accident with Steve? Was her mother in the accident?

As a writer my mind took off on its own. Rolling around with several ideas.

It's been hard to think of anything else today. But I just hope somehow she got a hold of Cindy.

Weird hmmm?

Is This Crazy Or What?

Iranian cleric blames quakes on promiscuous women

More than 25,000 people died in the Bam quake
Women who wear revealing clothing and behave

promiscuously are to blame for earthquakes,

an Iranian cleric says.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/8631775.stm

My friend posted this on facebook. I think this is truly scary.

If you want an interesting book to read on the Middle East and the problems woman over there face read anything by Jean Sasson.

Be sure to have a tissue handy when you read her books. I promise you won't be able to put them down.

Ahhhhh Southern Boys

Hi Y'all!

In my paying job I talk with a lot of people (almost entirely men) from all over Canada and the USA. No, I don't work at, for-a-hot-time-call . . . I have a respectable job.

Anywho, like I said, I mostly talk to guys because for some reason there are a lot of guy engineers and not a lot of female engineers.

So for several weeks now I have been doing a little research and I have come to a conclusion.

Oh my gosh!

Southern men are really real gentlemen.

They are sooooo sweet, polite, kind . . . whatever you want to call it. I have called nearly a hundred engineers in the southern states and each one is very kind. You can't fake that stuff. They are the real deal.

I have to salute those men (and their mothers for raising polite gentlemen) in Texas and Lousiana that I've talked to, they make my day.

Today, I talked with a guy from Grand Coteau, LA. (The above picture is from this little town).

The gentlemen charmed my thick half wool and half cotton socks (which kinda itch) right off my feet.

I almost fainted (I was channeling Scarlett or Carol Burnett . . .hmmm not sure).

When I looked up the town (no I wasn't being a stalker I just looked it up because of the time zone thing) I fell madly in love with this place. Some day I am headed for Louisiana.

Now I am very sorry if I offend anyone but the next comment may not be nice, the majority of the men I talked with from, Cleveland, Illinois, and Pennsylvania weren't that nice. They were short, to the point, and made me very nervous. There was a physicist from Penn State who was really sweet but in general I think the men of Cleveland, Illinois, and Pennsylvania need to take a vacation to Grand Coteau.

I don't know nothin' bout birthin' babies but I sure do know a nice man when I talk to him.

My hat is tipped to Southern Men.

Scarlett

Signing off

Weird Situation

Last night my son and I were standing in line at Starbucks. This Starbucks happens to be inside a local grocery store.

The man and woman in front of us were purchasing some groceries, a latte, and a frap. They where taking forever and I was a little put out that they were buying groceries in the Starbucks line.

As Joy, the absentminded barista, made the couples drinks the man took a biscotti from the fixture in front of the register and started eating it.

I waited and waited to see if he would pay for it and he never did. When he was done he tossed the wrapper in the garbage and walked off with his frap and groceries

I was so close to saying something but I didn't.

What would you have done?

Brick Tea/Interesting Info

Did you know the tea that was dumped over board at the Boston Tea Party was brick tea?

You did?

I always invisioned millions of Lipton (Okay, maybe Earl Gray) tea bags floating about the harbor or on an intelligent day, I invisioned loose leaf tea (the kind you get at Teavana).

But never in my wildest daydreams, did I invision brick tea.

In fact, I didn't even know it existed until I purchased a brick at Fort Vancouver Historical Reserve. I even tired it. It is very good and smells yummy.

The brick shown above is from the same Chinese company that supplied tea to the Hudson Bay Company of London in 1845.

Brick tea was very popular with the fur trappers because it was so concentrated that it only took a small amount scrapped into a cup of boiling water to produce a great cup of tea.

There is your history lesson for today.

Cheers!

A Favorite Coffee Mug

Lately, I've been pondering the importance of a good coffee mug. One you love. One you cherish. One that makes you smile when you reach for it.

I basically have tons of coffee mugs but I tend to only use three or so, over and over, again. This week, I'm into the mug, feature above. Thanks Mom!

My mug selection comes in waves like a song you download from ITunes, play to death, stop listen to, then rediscovered the next month.

But I often wonder, why do I only use three out of the gaggle I own? Is it something about the size? A sentimental feeling for who gave it to me? The way the hot mug feels in my hands? Or could it be the design I tend to stare at while I'm mulling over my next scene in my book?

Does coffee taste better when you drink it from a mug you really like?

These are questions that may never be answered but are worth pondering.

Gilligan! Look Out! And News Around Ann's World

I took the top picture a couple of summers ago in Friday Harbor. The guy in the dingy looks just like Gilligan, don't ya think? Too Funny. And let me tell you the Clipper did not slow down for him. They just honked their very loud horn. You should have seen him scramble. I could just hear the Skipper yelling, "Row Little Buddy! Row!"

News flash:

I am feverishly working on getting my book cleaned up to send to a contest in May. Sometimes I wonder, "Will it ever be clean enough?" I'm on page 283 I only have a few hundred more pages to go. :)

More News:

I might have a full time job. A range of human emotions are going through me right now.

Great News:

I sold the football collage to a woman with very good taste who resides in Aurora, IL. Thank you thank you my lovely woman with very good taste.

Current News:

I am starting a new piece of art work. It's a collage of vintage shoes and some handmade handbages. Very fun. I will show you what it looks like soon.

That's all for now folks!

Oh, my little boy Joe wants me to tell you he is a Super Star Sports Guy.