Well, not really the last two (more like the last 24 hours), but do rush, do hurry, do run and sign up for this year’s final awesome FREE class at our Spraground! Registration ends at 11:59PM Eastern Standard Time.
Click on the image above and you’ll find yourself in our magical Spraground with all the EASY info you need to sign up for this awesome course. Did I say it was FREE? F-R-E-E! Wooooot!
You don’t have to have any special skills as pre-requisites for this course. You’re a digi scrapper? Come join us! You’re a hybrid scrapper? A paper-only scrapper? Come and join us too. Not a scrapper at all? Come join us too. You’re strictly into photography and nothing else? Or into just blogging? Or into just journaling and writing? There’s lotsa room for you too!
See? Everyone is welcome! Seriously! That’s because the main aim of Jessica’s newest (and this year’s last) course is to capture both the past and the present magic, memories, and wonderment of all that spells Holiday. And then come up with an album project as tangible evidence that we certainly have so much to celebrate and be thankful for.
What better way to prepare for this most awesome of all seasons? So tarry no longer, and click on that image, and join us for an amazing seven days of fun and frolic and falalala’s!
One morning this week, I finally decided to kill two birds with one stone (no actual animals were hurt ) and proceeded to “write” on my walls while giving my body a workout (gym equipment = ladder and squeegee). The hubby had been amply warned (“Honey, I plan to put these up on the walls, okay?”) and I knew–in the way that spouses who live together long enough can read each other’s minds–that he was nervous about the possibility of our home turning into a large scrapbook layout, so with total consideration I embarked on my plan while he was at the office. Mwahaha.
My arms still hurt till today (let me tell ya, it’s not as easy as it looks to scrub typography on your walls, especially if your walls have texture! ) but I got a total kick out of the reactions of my boys, so it was all worth it!
A couple of soundbytes from the fam:
Son No. 1 (coming home from class at univ): Mom! Did you just paint words on our walls?
Son No. 2 (coming home from school): Mom! Mom! Did you just write on our walls? This is so cool! (yes, he is thirteen).
Son No. 3 (looking up at the graffiti in our bedroom): I can’t read connected letters. What does that say?
Son No. 4 (also looking at the graffiti in our bedroom): What’s that black thing?
Son No. 5 (also looking at the graffiti in our bedroom): Ha. Ha. Ha.
Hubby (entering our bedroom and looking up): Relax. Ha!
(Uhm. I’ll take that to mean he approves )
Just today, the hubby told me this one is his favorite. (Yes! He does approve!) It’s at the foyer, right by our front door:
This one is in our main gathering place in the home (yes, we are big on meals ):
This one is in my craft room which doubles as our guest room (anyone wants to sleep over? )
And this one is my favorite, especially because when I’ve been working all day on my compy and I lean back to rest my eyes, this is what I see. Mmmm. (It’s also what you see when you first enter our bedroom–how’s that for reminding you about what it’s all about, huh?)
The best part about it? I love the idea that when I say “Read the writing on the walls, buddy” — I can actually mean it literally.
(And yes, my son did say “Our home looks like a scrapbook, mom!” Hahaha!)
I will, at the risk of revealing certain factors that may make it possible for you to guess my age group, admit to being a child of the Seventies, and loving every moment of it. A decade like no other before or after it (yet), the 70s espoused the wild and carefree spirit that the 50s didn’t have, but was less rebellious than the 60s and less daringly anti-establishment than the 80s and the 90s. The 70s were the perfect decade for coming of age (possibly not a very objective view, considering that they were, after all, the years that I grew up in), but I will dare to venture that proof of this fact lies in the vivid recall of memories of anyone who was a child in the era of America, Bee Gees, and James Taylor.
(And for total ambience: America’s Ventura Highway, folks!)
The 70s taught me a lot about life and love, and the lessons are inextricably intertwined with childhood memories. Allow me to share both–the memories and the wisdom–of those wonderful years with you.
Lesson 1 – Follow, Fella
When I was about 6 years old, my paternal grandparents celebrated their golden wedding anniversary and, because we had the house with the largest space, ours was chosen as the venue for the big party. Great excitement filled the air as household help prepared the place (and hired men butchered numerous chickens in my first exposure to real-life gore). We had a jungle-gym of sorts in our backyard, and at six in the evening of the big party, I was still busy turning somersaults, my hands holding on to the bars of the gym while I threw my legs up in the air and left my head suspended midway like an astronaut in zero gravity. My mom told me to stop playing as it was time to get ready for the party and performance–oh yes (groan), who kid didn’t get asked to perform for relatives back then? I decided I could afford to do just one more somersault before going inside, so I did–and promptly hit my face on a rock whose existence on the ground I hadn’t even noticed until it caused me to see stars before my eyes. Wonderful: more real-life gore, on me this time, and a bad gash on my face which registered in all the photos of the grand event.
Lesson learned: Listen to your parents because they really do know more than you do. And obey. Immediately. (I have the scar to prove the importance of this lesson).
Lesson 2: Dance in the Rain
These days, when a little rain falls, many children will easily be seen in thick plastic raincoats, shielded additionally by umbrellas carried by their loving nannies. It wasn’t always this way. Back in the 70s, my brother (who’s two years older than me and therefore, by default, my partner in many crimes) and I would wait till the heavens poured down water in torrents and then we would gleefully grab our towels, shampoo bottles, soap bars, and run. In the wide expanse of our backyard we would dance and play and yes, take a full bath in the rain! Fully clothed. With mud stuck to our legs. Boy, it was a load of fun. Today I still try to get my kids to attempt this, just to experience the utter joy of feeling raindrops on their faces and arms, but they look at me with a mixture of doubt and amusement. (And then I almost see the thought-bubble forming in their minds: “Ah, mom–she is so charmingly nuts!”)
Lesson learned: Take time to frolic in the rain–or in the sunshine, for that matter. Happiness is a decision. It certainly doesn’t cost much, and it can be found in the simplest of things.
Lesson 3 – Fly Like the Wind
As a child I loved spending weekends at my cousin’s house. There was a park nearby, with great big mango trees that were perfect for climbing, and we would sit on the thick branches and contemplate deeply on the answers to some of life’s most troubling questions, such as which flavor of ice cream should we buy, and should we buy it now or later on? There was a big swing set, a serious one, nothing like the unremarkable Little Tykes plastic ones all over the place nowadays. No sir, these swings were made with wooden seats and real metal chains that squeaked as you pedaled with gusto. Unbeknownst to my mom and dad, I would pump my legs on those swings, trying to reach the sky, pedaling harder and stronger and faster, till I reached the point were the swing seat was almost parallel with the top of the swing bar. Then, at that point of greatest height, I would let go, push off, and soar through the air, landing on the grass feet first.
It’s a miracle I broke no bones. But in my 41 years of life, few things have topped the exhilaration of flying through the air.
Lesson Learned: Be fearless (within reasonable limits, of course. We’re talking about launching from swings here, not from roofs of houses). Dare to push the envelope. Don’t be afraid to fly. You may just discover talents you never dreamed were hiding inside you.
Lesson Four: A Little Dirt Never Hurt
We would start right after the requisite one-hour-rest-after-lunch (“or you’ll get appendicitis if you run around right after eating,” warned my grandma each time, like the broken ’45s that played on the turntables back then). We would end our playtime only when the sun threatened to set, our backs wet (no cloth diaper corners hanging out of our shirts because we never used diapers past the age of 8 months, much less on our backs!), our faces and hands grimy from a whole afternoon of Tumbang Presoor Patintero. When there were no neighbors to play with, I would “cook” leaves and sticks with mud in clay pots over coal. And I could do this all summer long with never a single whine about being bored.
Lesson Learned: Go outside. Get your hands dirty. Experience life with all your senses. There is no substitute for playing in the sunshine, sweat trickling down the side of your cheeks. (You don’t just give your muscles a workout, you also learn what it’s like to win and lose with grace).
Lesson Five: Of Canals and Combantrin
A cousin of mine and I always wanted a swimming pool. We didn’t have one in our house. So one hot day, we decided to take our wishes into our hands and pronounced the kanal outside the gate as a pretty good substitute. (Our kanals, as opposed to “canals”–which are large waterways–were about a meter wide and were meant to serve as sewage waterways… you can see where this is going). So into the kanal we jumped and splashed around, not minding the green moss floating but being careful not to dip our heads and open our eyes in the knee-deep water. Our older brothers and sisters mocked us, but we laughed right back in their faces and said they were missing out on the best thing… till something that did not belong in a swimming pool came bobbing by. We scrambled out just as my mom came around, her eyes wide open with mixed amounts of worry and anger. She made us take a bath in alcohol and water, and then made us drink 2 bottles each of Combantrin (I swear I can still taste that sticky deworming syrup).
Lesson Learned: Sometimes you’ll be ashamed of certain things you’ve done. But you’ll live through it, don’t worry. What doesn’t kill you can only make you stronger. And one day you’ll laugh about it. And if you were lucky enough to learn something from it, you’ll have even more than just a funny story to pass on.
Lesson Six: Humor Is Never Overrated
My brother would get his kicks from teasing me and mispronouncing my already-difficult-to-pronounce full first name. I would get back by sneaking close while he was building a tower with several decks of cards and happen to get an uncontrollable urge to sneeze right when he’d be putting the last few cards at the top (thereby sending cards flying in all directions). No matter how we annoyed each other, we continued to play together and have the time of our lives. Our guiding principle back then–to which we still subscribe today–was Picon, talo (“He who gets upset, loses”).
Lesson Learned: When things irk you, you either laugh at yourself, or you learn to dish it out in a spirit of fun as well. Life’s too short to spend wallowing with a morose face in a pool of gloom.
Lesson Seven: Beware the Bangaw and the ‘Bao
Every morning, my father would wake up the six of us, children, at the crack of dawn so that we could walk to Mass at a convent a block away from our home. We kids would trudge along the street, half-asleep, but not for long. See, walking with half-lidded eyes could only result in falling prey to one of two risks: (a) planting your feet deeply into squishy, warm fertilizer material freshly laid by the herd of carabaos that just passed by on their way to the grazing fields, or (b) walking headlong into a sleeping large fly (aka bangaw), your eyes flicking wide open at the instant you realize you’d been hit dead-center on your forehead. And that’s if you’re lucky, because if you had otherwise happened to have your mouth slightly open, there’d be at least a 98% probability that the offending large fly would sleepwalk straight into your throat, causing you to sputter in disgust, all sleep forgotten by your now-revolting body.
Today my father no longer wakes us early in the morning but he, my sisters and brothers, and I still find ourselves attending Mass regularly, some even daily, in our own respective parts of the world.
Lesson Learned: Old habits die hard. So make sure you establish really good ones while you’re young, especially if these habits have something to do with being physically and spiritually healthy and peaceful.
The Gift of the 70s: The Four F’s – Essentials in Life
Taken all together, the best gift of the 70s era for me was my discovering that there are really only four essentials for living a full and happy life: Faith, Family and Friends, and Funniness (i.e., a great sense of humor). You can have all the money and possessions in the world, but none of that can ever come close in value to the joy and fulfillment and gifts brought by the Four F’s.
So whatever decade you grew up in, or are presently growing up in, I wish you all the best of the 70s lessons, and may you be blessed with the Four F’s in your life.
NOTE:
* This was published in my ParenTTalk column, October edition of The Glimpse.
Credits for Images:
RetroMovies image by saine @ stockexchange.com
Cassette image by ugaldew @ stockexchange.com
Carabao image from tiger.towson.edu
Patintero image by Orville Tiamson for ForexWorld Artwork.
don’t leave your destiny to chance, what are you waiting for…
you’ve got to find a way, say what you want to say… breakout!
there’s no one but you on my mind, searching for the perfect ending that we’ll never find
if we could make it work this time, there’d be no sense in asking why…
make up your mind while there’s still time to turn around
fooled by a smile: you’ll regret, won’t forget what you’ve left behind
i’m the one you hurt and i’m the one you need
i’m the one who cried and i’m the one you used to meet
but you are pretending you don’t care but the fire is still there…
you ever stop and wonder what it is you’re searching for?
you pushed your luck too far with me but if you push it any further, you won’t have any…
in this world, nothing lasts forever (was it you who changed or me?)
should we go our separate ways or stay together?
i’m notgonnachange… if you walk away, there’s no turning back now
if you should ever change your mind, i’ll be there just call my name
until then i’ll be playing the waiting game
La la la la…
PS. I can’t even remember who sent the email where this came from, but i thought it was a hilarious visual on the basic difference between a man and a woman:
I kinda think more buttons = more interesting and fun, don’t you?
Some days just turn out to be serendipitously happy ones, for no particular reason except that … it’s a happy day!
Am celebrating it with this song!
And this!
And this!
And this!
Dance with me?
Today’s Funny
As my son J and I were riding home from school today, he was (as usual) telling me about his day in school. Our discussion revolved around a classmate who probably had a bad day and ended up dealing a few punches and a kick to my son. (Ah, boys!)
So naturally, mama took the opportunity to talk about the importance of using words, not hands or feet, to express oneself.
Me: Maybe you can tell your friend to use words next time he’s upset. Only babies use their hands and feet because they don’t have words to express themselves. Grown-ups use words.
J: I know, Mama! I used words today! (said proudly)
Me: Really?
J: Yes. Someone told me “Hey, you, poopy-head!” So I said, “Hey… you! Back at you… poopies!”
ROFL. I think this kind of boy-talk I can tolerate.
Today’s Freebie!
And because it’s a happy day for me, and happiness is meant to be shared, here’s a freebie for you!
This large (approximately 6×8 inches) grungy frame brush can easily be resized if you need a smaller frame. It comes in .abr format and .png format (so if you use a program other than Photoshop or Photoshop Elements, you can still use the frame! Yay!)
Preview Stock Photo Credit: Ayla87 at stock.xchng
{ Click on image to download. Please see Terms of Use included in zip file. }
Here’s how I used my frame on one of our class projects done for my dear friend Jessica’s awesome Photo-Editing 2 course at jessicasprague.com!
Spraground Shoppe: My Newest Baby
I’ve got a new product up in our shoppe! YAY!
(Image is linked to the Spraground Shoppe. Click on it and find yourself in our awesome Spraground candy store! )
My Storyboard Album Template Pack will help you create your own album with a graphic, storyboard look in a jiffy! It comes with twenty-one 12×12 layered templates (in .psd format), including a title page (with optional text path included), filler template pages which work well if you use them side by side in order (or you can also jumble them up and mix and match them), and a special template page for the last page of your album. I’ve included text boxes and text paths which you can use as is, or you can also opt to replace these with your own.
Because the Storyboard Album Template Pack is done in graphic style, you can use it for virtually any album theme you want! Use clipping masks in Photoshop or Photoshop Elements to clip your own papers and photos of choice. You can choose to use all the masks for photos, or if you’d rather clip patterned paper on some of the masks, that’s totally fine too! Add a bunch of your embellishments if that’s the look you want, or use just a few if you prefer the clean and simple, minimalist look. Don’t you just love all the freedom you have at your fingertips?
Best of all, you can use it again and again for as many albums as you wish to make!
And… that’s it for today, folks! It’s back to the drawing board to create more stuff for you!
Oh my. I finally gave in and tried out Stumble. Man, can it really eat your time. I feel like a kid in a virtual museum, oohing and aahing at everything around me… except this time, when I get bored, I don’t even have to shuffle my feet as I walk to the next exhibit room… all I have to do is hit the Stumble button and I’m in another world! How awesome is that!
Given my love for photos and words, it’s no surprise I suppose that some of the sites that amazed me most were those that combined photos and text… and not only were these visually interesting, I also thought that the messages in them were brave, raw, insightful, deep. (I know I probably would not have the courage to lay the contents of my heart out in the open the way others do, so I appreciate their courage to speak out, and I wonder if they realize that in doing so, they have given voice to the secrets that lie within the hearts of many others who may not be as brave as they are).
Here’s just some of the amazing stuff I found here at littlemiss and icanread and some other places that I can’t even recall anymore (lol!):
Funny how one word can say so much:
(and okay, maybe i’m biased because the letters make up my name, hehe)
Sometimes, the power in the words is so great that text alone is enough:
And other times, the image alone is enough to send a message:
Then again, sometimes having a bit of illustration adds to the appeal:
And then there are images, like this one, that quietly give hope to those who need it:
This one, I especially love (plus you just gotta love the way that font works perfectly with the image):
and speaking of music, here’s a sampling of what’s on my itunes “most played” playlist this week:
Eyeszzzzzzzzz closzzzzzzzzzzzing… enjoy the music while I go meet McDreamy (right, in my dreams! ) Good night! Will be back soon!
… when you see this, and I promise you I will pluck the moon from the sky and give it to you in a glass jar.
Enjoy!
Now that you’re smiling, will you forgive me for being absent from my blog porch for so long? I promise: never again will I be Missing In Action! (That thing called Real Life grabbed me by the collar and wouldn’t let go! In the meantime, I turned 41 years old! More on that soon!)
((((hugs))))
PS. And this is why I love computer geeks almost as much as I love babies!
) and proceeded to “write” on my walls while giving my body a workout (gym equipment = ladder and squeegee). The hubby had been amply warned (“Honey, I plan to put these up on the walls, okay?”) and I knew–in the way that spouses who live together long enough can read each other’s minds–that he was nervous about the possibility of our home turning into a large scrapbook layout, so with total consideration I embarked on my plan while he was at the office. Mwahaha.
) but I got a total kick out of the reactions of my boys, so it was all worth it!
And this one is my favorite, especially because when I’ve been working all day on my compy and I lean back to rest my eyes, this is what I see. Mmmm. (It’s also what you see when you first enter our bedroom–how’s that for reminding you about what it’s all about, huh?)
The best part about it? I love the idea that when I say “Read the writing on the walls, buddy” — I can actually mean it literally. 
Lesson 2: Dance in the Rain
Lesson Four: A Little Dirt Never Hurt
Lesson Six: Humor Is Never Overrated
block away from our home. We kids would trudge along the street, half-asleep, but not for long. See, walking with half-lidded eyes could only result in falling prey to one of two risks: (a) planting your feet deeply into squishy, warm fertilizer material freshly laid by the herd of carabaos that just passed by on their way to the grazing fields, or (b) walking headlong into a sleeping large fly (aka bangaw), your eyes flicking wide open at the instant you realize you’d been hit dead-center on your forehead. And that’s if you’re lucky, because if you had otherwise happened to have your mouth slightly open, there’d be at least a 98% probability that the offending large fly would sleepwalk straight into your throat, causing you to sputter in disgust, all sleep forgotten by your now-revolting body.
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