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Replacing the Funhouse Mirror

Mirror Mirror in my brain, can you tell me if I am sane.

Seems the mirror I keep referring to is that distorted one from my childhood’s not so fun funhouse. When you grow up in a household with unhappy people, you see yourself as you would in a scary funhouse mirror way. You know it’s you but you don’t recognize yourself. I mentioned this a three years ago in a post here.mirror mirror on Shalavee.com

As I’m apt to do, I was describing my mirror as broken and fractured to my talking doctor. And she stopped me for a moment and pointed out how I kept using that image. She offered that I need to redefine and describe my mirror as I would like to see it.

selfie in the dining room on Shalavee.com

What I see in my mirror is what I’m choosing to see. The image of me resides in my mind and my hands. My worth is there by my definition. Gone by my definition. I control the levels of disappointment and achievement by my definitions and my rules and no one else’s. The past is yet another item I can choose to drag in or leave out when I am defining myself. If I choose the distorted thoughts, or to see myself the way I think others see me, that is still my choice to see me that way. It is certainly not written on a cave wall somewhere.Lumiere on Shalavee.com

So my mirror is all of my making. Even if I’m bringing in images from mirrors past, that’s still me adding those images to my current reflection. And I think I may have to throw a black cloth over those past mirrors. I would really like to be friends with the reflection I see smiling back at me in my today mirror.

If you enjoyed what you read, subscribe, via the subscription box in the sidebar, to my thrice weekly posts via your emailbox. And visit me on Instagram to see my daily pictures, friend me or like my page on Facebook. Or come find me on Twitter or Pinterest too. I am always practicing Intentional Intouchness so chat at me please. I live for conversations.

And, as always, Thanks to you for your visit.

Tissue Tassels

I can say that one of the biggest perks to having a party is the decorating. My long-standing affinity for paper decoration is due to its versatility and low-cost. There was that one time my friend and I decorated the most store windows in Denton’s downtown. White paper, shelf paper, cardboard, and tissue paper were our supplies totaling under one hundred dollars. It was the labor that was the killer. Well, I have tissue paper still left over from that project. And when I thought about how I wanted to decorate Fiona’s birthday party, hot pink was definitely a color I was using. And seeing as my friend and I have sworn never to do tissue Poms again, tissue tassels seemed to need trying. Because … Easy.

tissue paper tassels from Shalavee.com

One sheet of tissue paper will make a pretty fat tassel.

In fact they turned out more like cheerleading pom poms than tassels.

And I didn’t mind that at all.

tissue paper tassels from Shalavee.com

Fold the tissue paper in thirds long ways.

The height of your tissue after this step will be however tall your tassel will be.

tissue paper tassels from Shalavee.com

Cut the fold along the bottom to open it up for the fringing part at the end.

And yes, that’s me using my really nice fabric scissors. Because they’re sharp.

tissue paper tassels from Shalavee.com

Fold the paper over on itself.

You’ll be repeating yourself like short-term memory gal in a moment.

tissue paper tassels from Shalavee.com

Cut along that newly created fold leaving the tissue attached at the top by a little.

tissue paper tassels from Shalavee.com

Rinse and Repeat.

tissue paper tassels from Shalavee.com

And again until you really can’t fold over any more.

tissue paper tassels from Shalavee.com

Now cut your fringe.

By folding it a bunch of times, this cutting part will take like ten snips.

tissue paper tassels from Shalavee.com

When you’re done fringing, simply roll the top edge up and secure with some tape.

And voilà, paper pom-pom, I mean tassel.

tissue paper tassels from Shalavee.com

You could actually cut the piece of tissue in half at the end and have two tassels if you wanted to save effort. The impact would be the same. I just adore their playful spirit and their texture. Plus, the cats loved them. It was the most entertaining watching the little cat standing on her back paws on the back of the club chair trying to balance and play with the tassel in the doorway. Happy tassel making and please feel free to ask me anything paper decorating oriented.

If you enjoyed what you read, subscribe, via the subscription box in the sidebar, to my thrice weekly posts via your emailbox. And visit me on Instagram to see my daily pictures, friend me or like my page on Facebook. Or come find me on Twitter or Pinterest too. I am always practicing Intentional Intouchness so chat at me please. I live for conversations.

And, as always, Thanks to you for your visit.

Garden of Doom

The sainted shrub did not resurrect itself this Spring. As I suspected, I had killed my birthday present to myself. The forever lusted after beautyberry bush, with its sumptuous purple berries clustered up and down its languorous limbs, was decidedly dead and was probably doomed to be yard waste from the moment I laid eyes on it last September at the Adkin’s Arboretum’s native plant sale.

Fiona at One in the garden of Doom on Shalavee.comI blamed it on last October not being as rainy as I needed it to be. The truth was that I didn’t remember to water my special shrub enough. It died of thirst right there is its driveway grave, expensive and neglected. I really hadn’t wanted the bush to die, I was just busy keeping a toddler alive and in check inside. So last week,  I ceremoniously yanked the beautyberry’s carcass from that specially dug hole and surreptitiously tossed it over the side of our yard. I was pulling the band-aid off quickly to avoid the constant pain of staring at its dead shell in my driveway anymore. Dearly departed Lady Rose in my Garden of Doom on Shalavee.com

I have a self-proclaimed brown thumb. Not as if the pre-Spring weather last year didn’t make it that much worse when a final frost killed this giant Lady Rose shrub above and my rosemary bush plus took the fig and hydrangeas down to the ground. Yes, I had help putting my garden into their present shambles. But somewhere along the way, I lost heart too. My garden of doom on Shalavee.com

Before the children became my omnipresent purpose, I spent hours and hours outside playing in the dirt of my house’s 9 flower beds. I have horrible luck with plants but what did survive managed to make me feel kinda good. Now I go out and all I feel is overwhelmed and like a failure. Worse, I do things like leave perfectly good planters and pots out in the weather to freeze and crack. Nothing can escape my doomed touch. Neglect and decay and ruin seem to be my decorating theme outside. One year old Fiona tending the garden of doom on Shalavee.com

Thankfully, my husband Mark has gotten the planting bug and I watched him practice his own garden therapy last year when he lost his father to congestive heart failure. Gardening was really so very good for his soul as was the ritual distribution of his bounty. I hope to be back to gardening again some day. But until that day, I’ll try not to think about my garden.

Of course, this is also me hoping that those of you out there who love digging in dirt and like me, can find pity enough in your hearts to help me out of my dark doomed garden place. Anyone? Perhaps your name starts with M?

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