Tags Tags Tags

The Great Sorting Out has begun in advance of our May move (yep, we're moving; more on that later) and the craft room is at the eye of the storm.  I'm coming across the most amazing things.  Projects begun and never finished (terrible, I know).  Supplies for projects never begun (cringe).  And a few real treasures in the bottoms of boxes.  Like these . . .

and these . . .

There're left over from my book paper crafting bonanza of a year or two back.  I punched my way through thrift store copies of Wuthering Heights and Pride and Prejudice in a matter of months (if you're interested, you can view some of the results here and here).  Then the obsession passed.

Today I came across a very few leftover tags.  Guess what.  They're still as cute a can be!  Creamy paper.  Black typeface.  A little jute.  A little love.

But I'm moving, so these pretty little tags are going into the shop and you (lucky you) may have them if they call your name.

There Are Seeds And They Are Trying

Water is wonderful thing.  It sparkles and shines.  It feels cool and fresh.  It pours and splashes in endless ways.

It won't come as a surprise, then, that watering the new grass has become a highlight of Miss S's day.  She practically dances around me to wet her hands (or more) in the glittering spray from the hose.  It's marvelous fun for her, but I have to confess that there are few aspects of this twice daily routine that I could pass on.

For starters, I have to strip her down to her birthday suit at the font door and find dry clothes twice a day.  The bigger challenge, however, is keeping that excited little girl off the new grass.

We have a lovely story book out from the library this week that sums the situation up beautifully.

. . . or maybe it was the bears and all that stomping, because bears can't read signs that say things like "please do not stomp here -- there are seeds and they are trying."

Bears.   Toddlers.  Neither can read signs.

We're still waiting and watering.  Looking for those first green shoots.

. . . and the brown, still brown, has a greenish hum that you can only hear if you put your ear to the ground and close your eyes

That book, in case you're wondering is called And Then It's Spring by Julie Fogliano, illustrated by Erin E. Stead.