THE HOLIDAYS- THE SEASON OF $$$ by Lois Valentin

THE HOLIDAYS- THE  SEASON OF $$$  by Lois Valentin

Yes, I used the word 'holidays'. It encompasses them all- Thanksgiving, Christmas , New Years, and Valentine's Day. You might as well add Halloween to the list because that seems to be where it starts.

The business world seems to think of them in terms of financial goals with comparison charts  of sales past and in the future. Whereas they  may have that wonderful option to possibly see a bigger paycheck with bonuses, as it goes down the chain to the retail stores, the workers and finally to the consumers, that's where many options end.

The sales are everywhere. Discounts, BOGO, end of season sales, are just some to name  a few. There are even days named for sales. Black Friday, Small Business Saturday and Cyber Monday.

But what about the people who handcraft to make a living or those that are on a super fixed income ?

What about the people who would love to gift to friends or relatives, but just manage to put food on the table and heat their homes in the winter? Car repairs or Christmas ?  Must life be  always circle the pictures in the ads and  say ' this is what I would get you if I could'?

Oh, you say there are agencies to help. The agencies help those that need gifts especially with children. To my knowledge they are no agencies, etc. that deal with helping people buy gifts for others. No one is going to shell out a wad of cash and say ' Go to it. Buy what you want for your family and friends".

It seems in this era, handcrafted items , which take time, treasure and talent to make, are often the last thing on someone's list of gifts, when for many, it should be the first or even in the middle. But still, with limited funds, these , too, are often a thing of the past.

The holidays bring visions of high tech or  big ticketed items supposedly marked down from prices that may or may not have been raised previously, yet for most, handcrafted items are  all that is possible. Might I say, lasts a lot longer, too.

It sounds like I am rambling. maybe I am . I am tired of window shopping for items and going into sticker shock even on sale days.  I am going back again to my needle and thread and create some handcrafted gifts for my family and friends.

It's the thought that counts. Right?

I wish you all a very Merry Christmas and a happy healthy prosperous New Year.

From one of your favorite Valentine's ,

Lois Valentin

NO MORE HOSTESS by Lois M. Valentin

In memory of Hostess . A company that has been generational.

NO MORE HOSTESS by Lois M. Valentin


No more Twinkies,
No more Wonderbread,
And squiggley lined cupcakes will cease.

No more Donettes,
No more Ding Dongs,
Ho Ho's and Snow Balls.
Oh what will Santa eat?

Hostess, Hostess,
We will miss you the mostest.

Nature's Pride, Home Pride,
Beefsteak and more.
Just like Dolly Madison
They'll be waltzing out the door.

Hostess, Hostess,
We will miss you the mostest.

No more cheeese sauce, no more mix.
You have managed to take away, even the fruit cake.
Oh, what will the holidays will be ?
Will it be "good for goodness sake"?

Hostess, Hostess,
We will miss you the mostest.

TOTE BAGS IN HONOR OF TWO PEOPLE. BY LOIS M VALENTIN

TOTE BAGS IN HONOR OF TWO PEOPLE by Lois M Valentin

Two people that died last year brought sadness to many .Sadness filled our hearts. What could I do?

Since both people were associated with food pantries in their community. I decided to make tote bags in honor of them. this project started last winter and finally was finished last week, I gave  25 bags each to 2 churches that these people were parishioners of.

I am hoping that the churches could bless the bags in honor of these people. Using the bags as a fundraiser would help the churches raise some money . It would be nice if whoever bought the bags could, at least once,  fill them up with groceries for the poor parishioners or for  the food pantries.

The bags I made were small, medium , and large. Most were cotton. All made from reused, recycled, freecycled, thrift store finds , flea market finds, items I had on  hand or that had belonged to my late mother.

And before you ask, no, I did not take any pictures. I thought about it but kept on sewing . Life also made me forget about the picture taking.  Oh well!

Now that sewing project  # 1 has been completed, now it's time for another project or should I say projects, It is time for me to sew gifts for Christmas or sew something and sell it to make some extra  money to buy those things I can't make or afford.

Now my question is what to make. Time will tell.


Until next time,

Lois

FROM MY FAVE COLORS TO THE POWER OF PURPLE

FROM MY FAVE COLORS TO THE POWER OF PURPLE by Lois M. Valentin

Throughout my life, color has played a role in my attitude  and inspiration. When I was a child, I had light blue walls in my bedroom . My fave color was from the rays of sun combining with the dust particles on the sun beams shining in my room and reflecting on the wall and floor. They glistened.

I also like the colors I see when my eyelids are closed  yet I am looking at color.. Seems like  psychedelic patterns emerge. Often it reminds me of my hippie pants that were blue, green, orange, pink, and white stripes.

I made a purple and lilac bedspread for my 1st new bedroom set when I was 16. Unfortunately years later , a fire caused by neighbors children playing with matches caused me to lose most of everything just weeks after I moved from my mom's to my 1st  apt. and weeks before I had my son.

When my children were very small, Sam, my wonderful landlord, let me paint or paper as long as I paid for it. The living room was the focal point. One time I painted the walls salmon orange, then put a mural of an orange tree in one corner of the room. Orange was my fave color- at that time.

Since my red sofa clashed, I made sofa and chair covers . One time all yellow. Another time brown and yellow print with flowers that matched the salmon orange on the wall. I even made  vinyl plastic slipcovers. That was my 1st and last time. Never sit on them in the heat of summer.

One time I had a black vinyl sofa . I put up wallpaper with medium green ferns with a  beige background. I made a gorilla costume for me which I used on Halloween. But at that time, the gorilla sat on the couch in front of the ferns so he looked like he was in the jungle.

My bedroom was medium blue and white which matched my floor.

 As time went on  as did places of living, my room became a haven of lilac and white. Besides working , going to school, raising my children, and volunteer in the community,  I did  find time to sew.

  Moving seems to have been happened way too many times in my life. I always wanted a Campbell Soup kitchen with the Soup kids on the wall as cup holders .Black and white checked floors so I could create large checkers  and play on the floor with my grandchildren. .. But that never happened. The closest I got were mugs  and decorations. Now things are beige - very boring, not inspiring. Been like that for the past few years no matter where I lived.

My dream is to have my own place.  A place that has storage and is filled with color. A place where I can get my grandchildren's swing set out of storage, paint it a new bright color,  and place it next to my colorful house. .  A place where I can have veggie and flowers gardens filled with color- almost like taking Farmville 2 and putting that into reality.

Years ago a fortune teller told me that someday I would have a large place with each room a different color.  I am still waiting. I am also waiting for the green.

My blogger page GrammieLois'sOffice is lilac and white. I love lilac.  Inspiration to a point.

Just days ago , an unexpected inspiration came along. Now I am all fired up to create again. On Facebook, a wonderful person posted a pic of a super large kitchen of bright purple, white and silver. My heart danced. I felt ALIVE. I felt powerful. I felt like ME . Me who used to have so many creative messages  on my answering message that a certain Lawrence politician used to call just to listen to the new one of the day.

Now I wish I had a large pic of that kitchen sitting on my desk or at my sewing machine. Now I have to just find the post  and look at it every day .

 Now that I am more inspired, maybe I can figure out how to get that green paper that we all are looking
 for . Or the pot of gold. That way I can get that powerful kitchen of purple.

Until next time,

Lois

PETEY AND GUADALUPE by Lois M. Valentin

PETEY AND GUADALUPE by Lois M. Valentin 

Where do I begin? The middle?  The end?  The beginning ?  Perhaps somewhere in between.

I am PJ McClaren. Everyone calls me PJ but that is not my name. Not many people can pronounce it, not even my parents, so that is why I am PJ . I used to hate it as it reminded me of pajamas. You know- pj’s.  LOL.

Right now I am  a silvery white haired woman who still lives in the same old place as my parents and grandparents did. I grew up here.  My memories of life are intertwined with every part of this house and land.

 Today was an unusual day.

 The little boy next door came to the house wanting to do odd jobs to make some money. Usually he sells   lemonade in front of his house but he can no longer do that because of some silly city ordinance that  to sell any food you have to have special permits, etc. Bah humbug!  He made the best lemonade. Secret recipe he always said when questioned. Haven’t have lemonade like that since I was a little girl.

    “ Carlos, you can help me clear this small path. I forever keep this path clear and clean. There’s a bench at the end near the tree where I sit every day. Been doing that for decades. But I could always use some help .  If you help me regular, then count on getting paid regular. “

  Carlos thought and agreed. Then shook hands. A deal is a deal.

  He called his dad who said he would be by to pick him up later.

  When Carlos and I were clearing the path, I noticed he was wearing an old 1/2 medallion from a chain on his neck. It glistened in the sun. I have one almost like that.

 When finished, he and I sat on the bench and looked at the flowers.

 “ My friend and I planted these flowers years ago when we were little girls. Still to this day they blossom and grow so beautiful.”

 “ They are beautiful and they smell so good”.

  “ Carlos. Carlito”

  “ Coming papa”

  Carlos and I walked to the gate to where his father was waiting. As introductions were being made, I thought he looked so familiar. Where have I seen him before?

 “ I am Carlos Sr. , but please call me Juan. I am called Juan after one of my mother’s friends“

 “ Juan, Carlos and I were just finishing up our work. Would you mind if he stays a bit longer so he can make me some lemonade?  I will bring him home myself."

 “ That’s okay. No problem. “

 After his father left, Carlos and I finished our outside work then went inside.

  Carlos looked around as I put all the lemonade supplies on the counter.

  “ I have a pic like this at my house. It’s on the mantel of the fireplace.”

 I froze. Could it be?

 Best lemonade there is. I had Carlos make a large pitcher so I could have it for the rest of the day.

 As we were loading up the car so I could take Carlos home, his pendant glistened again.

 “ Papa, I am home”.

“ Hello again, PJ”

 “ Hello , Juan”.

 “ Papa, PJ has a pic like this one on a table in her living room.”

 “ She does”?

  I froze. Indeed it was. It was the same pic of two little girls. Excitement filled my heart.

  “ That’s a pic of my mother when she was little.  I was born late into her life. She died when I was 10. My dad raised me. He died a few years ago. The portrait on the wall was painted by my mother. It was her last one. They say she was famous but to me she was and is mom. I put flowers there every day as we could never find her grave.”

 “ Carlos, may I please see your pendant for a minute”?

  Carlos and Juan look strangely as I turned it over. Indeed. On the back was written Petey.

Excitement and curiosity filled the air when I took off my pendant and turned it over. On the back was written Guadalupe. Putting them together they matched.

  “ Juan. Carlos.  Can you please come back to my house? I have to show you something”

  They followed me home in their car.

  “ What’s going on” Is it a surprise?

  “ You’ll see.”

  I was glowing with excitement.  I pulled out a white binder I had on the shelf. In it were many childhood pictures. Pictures of Petey and Guadalupe. Pictures of Guadalupe and myself.

 I opened the door to the locked room. This time Juan and Carlos froze. This room was a dedication to my long time childhood friend. On the walls I had hung many of her portraits that she painted throughout her years.  Each one told  a story of an event in her life.

Amazement and excitement filled the air. Tears ran down my face as I realized that the baby in one of the portraits was in fact Juan . Tears ran down their faces , too.

 “ Juan and Carlos, can you please come with me to the bench at the end of the path. Bring the shovel . We must hurry.”

 At the base of the tree, Guadalupe and I had buried a time capsule. It was agreed whenever it got dug up, the items would be sold and the money would be split fifty fifty.

Carlos and Juan dug until they hit the chest. Actually at the time of its burial, Guadalupe and I called it a treasure chest. They pulled it out of the ground so we could open it in the house.

“ Carlos, do you remember you said you could never find your mother’s grave. Please look at the stone which was just in back of the flowers . “

 On the stone was hand carved “ Guadalupe”.

 “ Every day I come here to sit with my best friend and tell her of my day. Guadalupe was cremated. This is her burial place. This is where she wanted to be buried. We hand carved our own stones when we were teenagers. Mine is on the shelf under this bench. Guadalupe’s stone used to sit on the now empty shelf under the other bench. Her bench.

I had Juan take out my stone so everyone could see it. Hand carved was “ Pietra Jane” with a line going thru it. Under it was carved” Petey”. Petey was what Guadalupe called me. It was my childhood name.

 Tears ran down everyone’s face. Juan has his mother. Carlos has his grandmother . And I have the family of my best friend, Guadalupe.

THE SUMMER OF HELL

THE SUMMER OF HELL : Another move is in the Future  by Lois M. Valentin


 As some of you know, I had to move AGAIN at the beginning of summer. The reasons why are plentiful but private. The chaos of moving went from 2 weeks to almost the entire summer. Storage units . Hotel rooms. hotel rooms with AC.  Beds, Floors. The car in  90 degree weather. Fire drills. Lockouts.  Sharing. Perseverance. Both communication and non-communication. Survivalists. Goals. Brainstorms. Anger. Hopefulness vs hopelessness. Tears and comfort.. Prayers. Lack of money. Bathrooms. Hand can openers. Microwave. Wi-Fi. Coffeemaker. Libraries. Laundry .

New Apt. Yard filled with garbage. Garbage cleaned up. Needed to get own garbage barrels because none were supplied. Some neighbors still haven't, so it seems.

Neighbors. Children. Bikes. Dogs and cats. Parents in building sitting on porch.  Ahh! The sound of life.

The power goes out a lot and the smoke alarm goes on a lot. . The landlord said to my face that there has never been a problem with the electricity here.

Now it is Sept. A neighbor is moving out. Electric company was going to shut my electricity off for nonpayment yet all my bills are payed 100% up to date. What the heck was going on?

A neighbor has lived here 3 months and has never received a bill.

A MAJOR SNAG. My acct is connected to a meter which was labeled on the outside wrong. The meter itself is connected to another apt. The actual apt # , my address was listed in the company's data as being another apt in the front.   A loop check was done of all apts. No one's acct, address, meter or labeling were correct. A total mishmash of errors by whoever.  Now the waiting game. Waiting for the worker's system data to get into the company's data- then watch for the bills. A meter reading had been previously scheduled for a few days after.  The worker said it would take 24 hrs to get through the system and they might scrap that month's bill and start fresh from that date. The person at the company's phone said it doesn't work that way. It might take months. And yes, we will have to pay the bills- even though the meters had been  associated with someone else's apt.

We either will get the same, lower or higher bills.  Any bets on what I will get?

Until next time.

Lois

METAMORPHIS OF GRAMMIE LOIS'S OFFICE

Hi everyone,

First of all , I would like to apologize for not posting as I did before. It's been a while. Life's ups and downs interrupted.  I have to move again through no fault of my own. I have been packing and pre-moving things to storage. Even had to get another bigger unit for my bed. California King takes up space. I got it from Freecycle. It is sooo comfy. But now it is in storage and I am sleeping on the floor until I find another place to live. Hopefully in July.

Another reason I am pre-moving is that I will soon have SLT eye surgery for my glacoma. First my left eye, then when that heals, I will have the right eye done.  I certainly don't want to think about moving during that .

Second, during the past few months, I have been inspired by many people to revamp my office. Ms. Annie Bella from Corner of The Bedroom Studios and Latrice Murphy from All Occasion at Fave Craft made me rethink my space and purpose. Somehow my craft , sewing and research area  turned into a library of research with no space for anything else. I do not need 4 bookcases of research plus notes.

When I lost my printer due to a roof leak  during a major storm before the Halloween snowstorm I began to write notes. It was during a bout of entering the notes  into my genealogy program that I realized I had triplicate notes.   Note taking so many times  also hampered my story writing.  That system will also be revamped.

So with the event of a new place to live, I am going back to being organized and label everything. My creativity has been stifled far too long by my 'chicken scratching' which I call my notes. Like a butterfly emerging from a cocoon  , my creative, artistic self will be emerging. The library will be 1/4 or less of the room or incorporated into my sewing and craft areas.

Praying that this happens soon as my life seems to be currently in storage units. I'm also praying that I win the lottery. :)

So far now I will end. Hopefully you are keeping cool during this 100 degree heat.

Until next time,

Lois

Fairywebmother's Laboratory: Getting Down to Business

Fairywebmother's Laboratory: Getting Down to Business

NO ONE TOLD ME

NO ONE TOLD ME by Lois M Valentin
This was written by me sometime during the 1980's-1990's.


No one told me that my heart could cry so loud yet no one hears.


No one told me that victims are sometimes punished and scarred for life and the violent criminals are often free of worry and pain.


No one told me that my voice sounds so much different to me when I hear it on a tape recorder.


No one told me that life was a political game.


No one told me that I would want to fly through outer space yet I am afraid of heights and elevators.


No one told me that now I don't have to take my children anywhere that I would have no place to go myself.


No one told me that I could write this, play with Tiger, my cat and listen to the walkman at the same time , but I did and it's 11:30 at night.

SPOOKY & THE DOLLEY MADISON DRESS

SPOOKY & THE DOLLEY MADISON DRESS by Lois M Valentin

During the past few weeks I have been alternating between sewing and sorting old personal papers plus bags of research notes- sometimes in triplicate. It seems that every time I moved, I made new notes to enter into my computer which always went  into storage at some point.

Now all my notes and my computer are here. I've entered the info and ripped up the notes. Some notes written by me were unable to be read so out they went.  My daughter got me 2 more photo albums so I can put the old pics from the bins into the albums. Decades ago I was the camera happy person taking pics . Not much has changed . :)

Spooky has been supervising my paper work and my sewing. He also has made sure I get exercise. He runs  across the floor and jumps on the stack of papers, knocking them down. . Thus I have to get up and fix the stack again. Or he would grab some part of the fabric or embellishment and give it an unwanted tug.


The Dolley Madison dress is a costume for my granddaughter for her school project. A report about Dolley Madison.  She also elected to bring a costume.  Tomorrow it goes to school. Wonder what the teacher will say.

Now that the dress is finished I can go back to research or playing word games  until the next sewing project

Until next time,

Lois.

WHO AM I By Lois M Valentin

While sorting through some papers during my office reorganization, I came across something I wrote so many years ago.. I am posting it online. I used to write poetry in my calendar/ appointment books. Whenever I find those, I'll post them as well.  My daughter recently told me that I had too many words in my head. Guess it is time for them to be shared.

Lois

WHO AM I ? By Lois M Valentin  

Both young and old, I see troubles.
My faces sometimes has no glimpse of hope.
Yet, a brilliant idea will rekindle the inspirational flame to bring hope alive.
I love education and I love work yet often I am idle.
I am poor yet I am rich.
With proper finances, I would reach my financial goal.
Feel my pain as I feel yours.
I do care so very much, but I need help to right what is wrong.
I am very old, but with old and new technology, I can rejuvenate.
Sometimes I feel alone, yet I am surrounded by thousands.
I am red, white, black, brown and yellow, yet I know no color , for I am one.
I will always be different nationalities yet I am no different.
My life is vast and many times complicated.
Sometimes I wear a white collar, or a blue collar or even no collar .
My health is sometimes not good but finances often prevent me from getting proper attention.
I love the waterfall, but I question why the water is so brown.
I see crime and I want it to stop.
I sometimes rent, sometimes own , yet my place of abode is sometimes where I am at.
I see injustice , yet often my hands are tied.
Who am I?

A BELATED HAPPY NEW YEAR AND GUMBY

A BELATED HAPPY NEW YEAR AND GUMBY By Lois Valentin

Happy New Year to you all. Hope 2012 brings peace, happiness, good health and prosperity.

I am still rearranging my office and my bedroom.  Trying to be more organized but still have space for storage, usage and creativity. Instead of having milk crates stacked one on top of each other, I had them screwed to the wall over the door frame. Still have storage but they are out of the way- making space for other things like my dress form.

I already started Christmas shopping for 2012.  Going to put the items in the large Christmas stocking just as soon as I can find a good place to hang it.

Now on to Gumby. It was a Christmas present for my tweenage grandson from his parents. I started it before Christmas but had to finish after as he had to try it on.

It is made of green fleece. The front zippered body is one piece with elastic on wrists and ankles. I traced his hands  to use as a pattern for Gumby's hands. I had made the start of two different head pieces and had him choose so I could finish.  I used tulle netting for breathing spaces at eyes, nose and mouth.  The netting is located next to felt and knit.  To keep the head upright, I made a form that fits inside Gumby's head and allows grandson to wear it on his head like a hat.  The bottom part of Gumby's head is long in front and back .

He's pleased so that is what counts. Here's some pics of the finished product.

Until next time,
God bless.

Lois

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