#2 Monthly Scrapbook Journaling

Ooooops...

I see that if I continue to stuff this scrapbook full of journaling whatnot's, when finished it will have the appearance of a pregnancy about three months overdue.  I'm toning it down a notch, so hopefully the cover will not be sticking straight up in the air standing at attention when finished, LOL!  Being optimistic, perhaps the lady I'm giving this to will have all of her adventures happening in January and February :)

#1 Monthly Scrapbook Journaling

HELP!  Even though I haven't put together a scrapbook page for years, I still collect all the paraphernalia one would need should the unlikely occasion ever arise.  It's similar to that slightly out of control mini-addiction a seamstress experiences when she takes the newly purchased four yards of flowery cotton cloth out of the joann's store bag, and adds it to the three boxes in her closet that are already crammed full of previous must have fantastic fabric finds.

Her good intentions of actually stitching up those blouses, dresses, and trousers so she might have something lovely to wear, long ago paved her fiery road to clutter collecting hell. Okay, so mountainous heaps of scrap-booking crap is perhaps a major concern in my household; but I'm positive you haven't a clue as to the condition of my bedroom closet, so I vehemently deny any rumors alluding to a certain new fabric smell fetish.  I deny it 100%  ;)

Forcing my lately apathetic creative side to cough up a project to tackle from beginning to end in a timely manner (is half a year timely enough?), I'm dredging though all my stashes of goodies to create something without buying anything new.  Good grief!  Okay...I admit I don't know how NOT to buy new things to add to the piles of embellishments already crammed into every nook and cranny of my workroom...but I'm trying.  Please don't even mention good intentions :(

Monthly Memories is the theme, twelve months, four pages per month for photo attachments and journaling.  It's a gift.  It's probably a late gift, as January already ate up two weeks of my spare time.  I need some 26 hour days to finish this monster. Relearning attaching processes is driving me crazy, especially glues and gluing.  Hopefully February will turn out slightly cleaner without misalignment's that are hard to live with. Hopefully...                

February's upcoming, but don't hold your breath or my good intentions will have paved your road to an early demise.  That would make me a bit sad and put a major kink in my day :(  

A Splash of Orange with a Frog Thrown In

A Passion for Fragrance

Warm sweet clove fragrance of My Mary Azalea begs one to linger longer than usual to take in the beauty of her soft yellow flowers edged with just a whisper of burnt orange.  She's at her finest moment, the love of the gardens, and she demurely knows it.  No one person resists her.  This sultry temptress incognito, so subtly intoxicating, filling our senses with the faint passion of a longing for something more, like that of a caterpillar that has begun its journey to find that special place to fall into a deep sleep not really knowing why.

Sweet-shrub Athens begins to open her buds...one, two, ten, twenty, fifty, and two hundred.  Whiffs of freshly cut honeydew melon come and go day one, hang around day two, tantalize day three, cross over the line day four, overwhelm day five, and become quite vulgar by day six, morphing into an assault of a thousand rotting honeydews blasting one in the face. She's by the front door.  Catalog promised the scintillating aroma of luscious juicy red strawberries. They lied.  She's too hefty to relocate; she'd need a good blasting to kingdom come to remove her and all those tenacious baby suckers she keeps replenishing. She's at the first of many of her finest moments to come this season and next, so we comfort or agitate ourselves in knowing she's the finest of front door people repellents this side of heaven :(

Robed in a zillion tiny petals and hundreds of bees, China Girl Holly's fragrance remains evanescent; fluctuating with the gentle breezes or hiding in the soft stillness.  Up close...in her face is the only way to appreciate those delicate flowers and their evasive perfume.  There's no comparison, as the storms this morning stripped her of her petaled beauty, and all that can be said is that her scent reminds us of her, and let it remain your mystery for yet another year.

A Study in Lacey

Footnote

Now I've heard it all.

Husband just informed me that he was a little sick of from pulling weeds...must be the pollen...he has the runs now.

Hahaha...

He didn't pull any weeds.  He just bagged the three bags of weeds that I pulled :(

I guess I shouldn't have told him he was trimming trees in the morning.