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The Boy uses the chalkboard dots to display schematics for such engineering impossiblities as rocket laden secret weapons and hydro-explosives.
The Boy uses the chalkboard dots to display schematics for such engineering impossiblities as rocket laden secret weapons and hydro-explosives.
We rarely have eggs in the house. But for a the past couple of weeks we've been nursing a six pack I'd picked up for houseguests. I have little stomach for boiled eggs, hard or soft, these days, but when I was little, man did I love myself an egg soaked in a salty stew. The Mr., having just discovered this ovate umami-ness, is all over the taste sensation achieved by tossing an egg with a splash of soy sauce.
There really wasn't enough day today to start a project and finish it, too. But having an excuse to spend another day playing with bookbinding materials is really not a bad thing.
Those balloons from the other night got the papier mache treatment today, a day when our one-thing-at-a-time kitchen was not required for food preparation (dinner out = craft cooking). Previous years, you might recall, have had us shopping for those wooden eggs for easterly decorating. But I feel that's run its course, and I really don't know what I'd do with another dozen wooden eggs knocking around these parts. And I already had the balloons stashed in a drawer. So papier mache seemed like a good way to go, although deviating from the familiar craft routes always leaves me with the is-this-going-to-be-total-disaster pre-regrets. But Bear stumbled down from her nap to find me elbow-deep in my cooked-up paste of flour and water and newspaper strips with a dozen slathered mini-ballons strung up to dry, and she simultaneously demanded a cup of milk and one of the eggs. So I'll call it an early success.
The last two girl scout cookies of the season. Kind of glad to see them go. I don't have the resolve to resist these kinds of things.
I pulled out some mightily stale balloons to get a heads up on Eastering. To say that my cheeks are sore is a gross understatement. And also an unfair statement, as I had The Mr. blow up the lion's share of mini balloons once he got back from the gym.
A new stitching project, freehand with my perle cottons on that gray sheeting that's been cut up for different projects and floating around in scrap form. We'll see how far I get on this before dumping it for ever pressing Easter ideas.