Please Help Me Welcome….

My baby sister, Christy, has made it to the blog world.  Finally her youngest started kindergarten and she doesn’t know what to do with herself now.  The bon bon box is empty.  It’s a natural transition from busy mom to blogstar.  Please go read her posts and comment on how darling her children are.  She’s over there in my blogroll under Christy B’s Blog.

She grew up thinking that she wasn’t craftsy (different from crafty) because I was the older sister, born with a glue gun in my hand.  Well, she sang and sang and sang (til we were all pretty sick of it… well, not mom.) from age two on and has a fabulous voice and majored in vocal performance.  Our parents always encouraged us in our separate talents so we all thought we were stars.  :o)  Anyway, all that to say, she moved to Washington state and grew a craftsy arm and now makes FABULOUS scrapbooks and cutesy cards that she SELLS in a little boutique.  She made the jar and journal pictured at the top of this blog. 

And her scrapbook room is to die for…. right off the kitchen for easy scrapability.  I’m completely envious.  Christy, you should do a blog on your scrap room.  Seriously.  It’s its own work of art… all matchy matchy in brown and pink.  Too cute.  OK, I might even have a picture of it….  YES!

And that’s only the main wall… there’s shelves and boxes and all cute brown and pink stuff.  She even made the clock match with pink bling bling.  Soon she’ll be changing the letters on the hanging sing to BLOGSTAR.  Just you watch.

Welcome, Christy!  I look forward to reading your writing.  You always keep me laughing.

Frugality at its Finest

Deep in my heart I feel that Mr. Wallet deserves more than just a single blog entry to hail his genius attempts at saving money.  (See Mr. Economical from a few days back.)  Early on in our marriage, Loverboy would buy cards and write lovey-dovey sentiments in them that would make my eyes mist and my heart pitter-patter… BUT he never wrote my name on the envelopes NOR licked them shut.  Why would you waste an envelope on only one recipient????  (Not like the next gas station greeting card didn’t have its own personal envelope.)  I asked Rick if he didn’t think I was worthy of using up an entire envelope’s life.  He realized the error of his ways. 

With the knowledge of my envelope-worthiness in mind, Reeko Suave continued to buy cards for his loving wife… and he started licking just the teeny-tiny tip of the sticky point…. to prove his undying passion for me.  I again asked if I was not envelope worthy.

Next, Casanova finally began writing my very own name on the front of the envelope…. in itty-bitty letters…. in the top right corner…. that could eventually be covered by a postage stamp.  Where does this kind of thinking come from???  He’s too young to remember the Despression era. AGAIN, I explained that my self worth was plummeting with every postage-stamp-sized depiction bearing my name.  The light finally went on.

The envelopes given to me since that time have BIG letters L-I-N-D-A on them, with pictures drawn of birthday cakes and bunnies and Easter eggs…. or balloons where the string is a line of loving sentiments swirling around the front of the envelope.  Rickey has come full circle and I have arrived and am now worthy an entire envelope. Thank you very much.