I once heard that you should never point your camera into the sun…
and I couldn’t disagree more.
Frankly, I love it when my lens is pointed towards the sun.
The light is amazing.
There’s something about the sun that I just can’t get enough of.
I must say, this rule was made to be broken.
So, next time you have your camera, don’t be afraid to face the sun!
Happy shooting!
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I love vinyl wall decals, especially funny ones. In celebration of the change of seasons, back to school, but mostly because you guys make me happy, I want to give you a present!
The nice people at Willow Creek Signs are generously offering to give away a $25 gift certificate to one of For Love or Funny’s readers! That’s you!
You’ll find a huge variety of vinyl at Willow Creek Signs.
I’m just showing you some of the funny ones, ’cause I’m a goof.
Got an idea that you’d like to put into vinyl? I bet they can personalize something just for you.
They helped me with my kitchen, after all. They’ll be happy to help you, too.
I don’t know about you, but that’s kind of my take on housework, too.
Don’t tell my husband.
In addition to having lots of really neat words that you can put on your walls, Willow Creek Signs has a lovely selection of vinyl art, monograms, graphics, growth charts, you name it!
So, just leave a comment at the end of this post, and I’ll randomly pick the winner early Friday morning.
Just answer this question:
Are you a follower, a subscriber, a Facebook fan, or an occasional visitor to For Love or Funny?
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Friday morning update: Thank you for all of your sweet comments!
Our 62nd comment will receive the $25 gift certificate to Willow Creek Signs.
Congratulations, Kimberly!
I will email you with the details.
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Lately, my kitchen became a source of angst. I didn’t like being there.
Even my ceiling made me say “Ick.”
Check out that pendant lamp. Eeesh.
That flowery wallpaper border screams “bathroom” to me.
There’s just too much STUFF in here. It’s too crowded and frilly.
No wonder I don’t like cooking.
I had to do something, fast. And cheap.
I started by taking down the wallpaper border:
I discovered that wallpaper is the devil’s handmaiden.
No matter how much I scrubbed, a wallpaper residue remained.
Eventually, I just painted over it with leftover paint. It worked like a charm!
Then I sorted through my cookbooks. Many of them I don’t use, so I gave them away.
I put the ones I like into the pantry and moved the scrolled iron bookcase out of the kitchen.
Finally.
Room to breathe.
My husband installed a new light fixture that I got from a big box store.
I got rid of the old lace valances and sewed up some new ones.
Then I did something really controversial…
I used a silk fern for the kitchen centerpiece.
Decorating experts say that silk flowers are gauche,
but silk ferns don’t shed and they require very little water.
I admit it. I like silk flowers. Do you?
Instead of the flowery border, I called the nice gals at Willow Creek Signs
and special ordered a vinyl border that says it all:
and …
I’m hoping people will be too busy reading that they won’t notice our ancient microwave.
That thing will never EVER die, so we’re holding onto it until forever.
I discovered that taking things OUT of my house feels good.
Let’s hear it for simplicity!
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Here’s what it cost:
Painting, wallpaper removal, scrubbing, organizing, throwing out stuff – FREE!
Fun vinyl border for the soffit above the cabinets – about $55
New hanging lamp from hardware store – about $100
Fabric for valence – $30
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The whole “back to school” vibe has gotten me on an organizing kick.
How ’bout you? Have you performed a make-under lately?
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I waited by the window for hours. I had good reason.
It was the first time my daughter was away for a high school event. She and her volleyball team had a sleepover at school. They were going to stay up late, play games, eat junk food, and get to know each other. I couldn’t wait for her to return.
My daughter is going to be a high school freshman.
I can hardly believe I’m writing those words.
As I stared out the window, I wasn’t yearning for the days when my daughter was little. Rather, I was afraid that I’d miss a minute of who she is now. In fact, if someone warns you about the teenaged years, don’t believe them. Teens are wildly funny, incredibly interesting, adventurous, and sweet. Parenting a teen is a lot of fun.
It’s amazing to watch your kids begin to turn into young adults.
The only downside is that they spend a lot of time away from home.
I asked my husband if I could go get her…
…but he said that I had to wait until morning.
So I resumed my post.
The hardest part about being the parent of a teen…
is missing them when they’re gone.
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Me gather sticks.
Me light fire.
Me like fire.
Me like warmth.
Me cough.
Me hope the neighbors don’t call fire company.
Me like the primitive life.
Me gather food.
Me cook food.
Me eat food.
Me stare at embers while children eat.
Me children eat 100 smores. Each.
Me douse fire.
Me fear that 101st smore will cause stomach-ache.
Me good parent.
.
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Speaking of food, I need your advice. If I drop dinner, can I pick it up and put it back in the frying pan? Click HERE to tell me what you think, and you’ll be automatically entered to win $150 from Laughing Cow. The winner will be randomly selected from our comments on Sunday, September 12th.
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After an afternoon spent in the mall, I was done. The jostling, the crowds, the confusion of hallways did me in. Luckily, I have a teen who remembers where we park. I’m a very lucky woman. I complacently followed her through the parking lot. I believe in the value of giving kids leadership roles. Plus, I knew she’d find our car.
Things were looking up… until I looked down.
AHHHHH!!!
Not only are malls terrifying, but so are mall parking lots.
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Brought to you by PWASOM, or
People Who Are Scared of Mannequins.
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I have good news and bad news. I’ll start with the bad news first: I was captured by a hungry witch who demanded that I cook her dinner. Judging by her reaction, she didn’t like the hot dogs I microwaved for her. In a fit of pique, she insisted that I eat a plateful of brussel sprouts as my punishment. I was saved from her ire when my husband sprinted into the room. He smacked a kiss on my mouth, fought off the witch, and led me to the stairs.
Have you raced down a steep stone staircase lately? It isn’t easy. We slipped and stumbled down the cold hard steps. We heard the witch screech in anger as she summoned her minions. We had to hurry in order to elude capture.
The reassuring grip of my husband’s hand kept me calm. I sobbed with relief as we raced out the door.
We followed a surprisingly well manicured path away from the castle. I cursed myself for not exercising more, but what else is new? I looked back at the tower and a shiver of fear ran down my spine.
I could hear the witch wail, “Now I don’t have a cook anymore!” In a way, I sympathized with her. I’d be mad if my cook ran away, too. I stumbled and my husband slung me over his shoulder. He quickly outran our pursuers.
When we got to a safe place, we rested under a shady tree.
“We missed you,” my husband confided. “I’m so glad I found you.”
“I owe you so much thanks. I will make you anything you want for dinner.” I promised.
“There are better things to do than cook.” He said. “Let’s just have hot dogs and chips tonight.”
And that is how I knew that my husband was really my Prince Charming.
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If you’ve had a chance to read my earlier posts, I’ve been kidnapped by a grumpy witch.
She wants me to cook her dinner, so I’ve started to cook some hot dogs.
They are the only thing I can cook properly.
Even though I’m a rotten cook, I’m good at distracting people.
I searched the castle’s kitchen and came across an unused mason jar…
I poked some holes into the top…
I filled it with wildflowers that I could reach from the kitchen window…
…instant centerpiece!
Truthfully, if flowers don’t brighten the witch’s day, perhaps bubbles will…
Now, if only Prince Charming will arrive soon to rescue me!
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I’m still trapped in the castle. The old witch demands that I cook dinner for her, which will only spell disaster. Even though my kids dance with excitement whenever I serve “pigs in a blanket,” I doubt the witch will. In an effort to distract her from my horrible cooking, I decided to mix things up in the dining room. Luckily, the old laptop I found is still working. I ordered a light fixture online and had it delivered.
Before: Dated light fixture, circa 1985.
Yowza. It hurt my eyes to look at it, and it seemed to attract dust like nobody’s business.
The poor thing was just plain ugly. No wonder the witch was so grumpy.
I installed the new light while I was supposed to be making dinner.
After: New light fixture, circa 2010.
I hope the witch likes it.
I hope it distracts her from the hot dogs on her plate.
Perhaps the soft glow of the tinted globes will make wieners look like filet mignon.
I’m hoping that the little details will distract her from the stale potato chips.
I will let you know how things proceed.
By the way, I’m still waiting for Prince Charming to rescue me.
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Friends, I’m typing this in a dank, dark cell. My only source of light is coming from the screen of an ancient laptop that I found discarded under the rickety twin bed. I’m in deep trouble, because a nasty old witch lured me away from home and threw me into the highest tower of her castle.
It’s been nearly 10 hours, and the constant woosh of the waterfall is making me thirsty. I sent an email to my captor requesting a chocolate milk shake, but my plea has been ignored.
My problems are magnified by the fact that the witch claims she needs a cook, and she has recruited me to fix her dinner every night. Clearly, I’ve been kidnapped by a very stupid woman. She didn’t bother to find out if I’m a decent chef, and anyone who reads my blog knows that I’m not. I fear that she won’t be pleased when I microwave a hot dog for her and call it “dinner.”
I need to escape before the evening meal. Alas, the heavy wooden door to my room is locked; my small window is barred; and my parapet is guarded by a fearsome creature. I’m well and truly trapped.
In desperation, I sent another email to my captor and demanded that she release me, but her response was “LOL.” I resorted to the time honored method of screaming “HELP” out my small window, but I’m miles from civilization and nobody can hear me. My only lifeline is this outdated laptop, and the “low battery” indicator is blinking.
I gaze outside and wonder why this castle has a dial-up connection? Is my captor trying to drive me insane with an internet connection that keeps dropping? After many hours, I finally access Google and type “HELP, I’M TRAPPED IN A CASTLE.” I find someone named Prince Charming, and I send him an urgent message: Please rescue me. I’m trapped in the tallest parapet in the Witch’s castle.
I wait. I wonder. How will Prince Charming find me?
If Prince Charming does get past the fearsome guards, how will he reach my room at the top of the tower? Is he physically fit? Can he scale the jagged walls of the tower with his bare hands? Does he carry carabiners and rope in his leotard?
Better yet, is he smart enough to find the stairs? In order to help him, I set up a blog and detail everything I remember about the castle. I locate pictures of the castle on Google Images and post several to help my rescuer identify my tower.
I wonder what damsels in distress used to do in the days before computers…
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Monday - slow cooked chicken & rice
Tuesday - pigs in a blanket, salad
Wednesday - grilled kabobs, peach salad
Thursday - mini chicken casseroles
Friday - pizza night
Saturday - potato leek soup and bread
Sunday - grilled salmon, couscous, zucchini,
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