Why Do I Know So Many People From Woodward, Oklahoma?



I know a lot of people from Woodward, Oklahoma. I'm not sure why that is. I mean, obviously, it's  near my hometown so there's that. But there are lots of places near my hometown where I don't know anyone.

 

So I'm stumped. But the nicest people come from Woodward.

 

There's Patti and Merlene that I met when I was in high school.

 

Then there's Eleanor and Terri that I met when I was in college.

 

And then there is Janet who walked into my church in Spring, Texas, one day and announced she was from Woodward. Go figure!

 

Janet is a big fan of my iris folded maps and she has commissioned several including, the map of Texas which helped decorate her daughter's wedding, and...

 

...this beauty of Louisiana for her daughter-in-law.

 

Finally, she broke down and bought one for herself. So here is Woodward, Oklahoma, looking like a chocolate and vanilla swirl cone with a bright red sprinkle in the middle shaped like a heart. Isn't it delish?

 

 

Want a map of your hometown? Order one on Etsy!

 



Horsing Around

The news from my hometown recently was all about the annual Wranglers Rodeo. When I was a kid, the rodeo was one of those big events we looked forward to every year -- right up there with homecoming, July 4, and the Major County Fair.

 

When you ask someone from the East or West Coast what they think of when they hear the word Oklahoma, the first thing they usually say is Indians or Cowboys. And if you ask someone what they think of when they hear Indians or Cowboys, one of the first things they'll probably mention is a horse.

 

So if A = B and B = C it stands to reason that if you are from Oklahoma, you ought to know your way around a horse.

 

You would think.

 

The sad truth is that even though I grew up in small town Oklahoma, I didn't really have that many opportunities to ride a horse--until the Wrangler Rodeo each year.

 

Officially the reason you went to the rodeo was to see barrel racers light across the rodeo grounds and crazy men trying to stay on bucking broncos. But the real reason you went to the rodeo, especially if you were a town kid like me, was to get one of your horse-owning friends to give you a ride around the outside of the arena.

 

So I was probably in the sixth grade the year I went to the rodeo and saw this girl who lived on my street riding her horse.

 

"Hey, can I have a ride?"

"Sure, come on up."

 

Now to get the full import of this story you have to imagine her the same way I remember her--an elfin blond 7-year-old. That's right seven. She was one those people that had grown up riding horses since about the day she was born. And me? I was an Amazon size 12-year-old, as attested by this picture taken the same year (at the school Christmas program--another must-see annual event) where

I am taller than everyone else in my class by at least a head!

 

 

 

So anyway, I get up on the horse behind her and off we go. We're sauntering around the backside of the bleachers as I'm nodding with a knowing grin to all the other people in the "That's right, I'm riding a horse at the rodeo" club, when my friend decides to kick it up a notch and gallop the horse. Actually I don't know if she decided or the horse decided, but before I knew it, the horse is in a trot and BOOM! We ran over a lady walking to the concession stand.

 

Her husband quickly bent down and picked her up and then with eyes blazing turned his gaze to us. Let me rephrase that. Turned his gaze to the Amazon-sized kid on the back of the horse who was obviously the older, wiser horse rider and started yelling, "You need to  need to watch where you're going! You could have hurt someone! You don't race horses out here. Slow down!"

 

I was trying to explain that it wasn't me. I didn't know anything about horses. It was her! The elfin blond in the front seat. But it only sounded like I was making excuses.

 

Thoroughly shamed I climbed off the horse, went and found some friends in the bleachers, and watched calf roping. But something got into me and I decided if I had  been in charge of that horse, I wouldn't have run over anyone.

 

I went to find another friend , and I convinced this silly soul that I was competent enough to ride her horse all by myself! Minutes later, there I was up on this horse sauntering around the backside of the bleachers, not running over anyone. Then all of a sudden the horse decided that it didn't want to be at the rodeo anymore. It took a sneaky left turn and headed outside the gate of the rodeo grounds and directly into the road that led in.

 

Suddenly there were bright headlights--then horns blaring--then someone yelled, "Get that horse out of the road!" I tried to lead it back into the gate, but I didn't know what I was doing and the horse was getting spooked. It started to panic and turn circles. Or maybe that was me.

 

"Move out of the way!"

"I'm trying!" I cried. Then some nice person (actually I think they were probably pretty ticked off, but I couldn't really tell because I was blinded by headlights) jumped out of their pickup, grabbed the reins of the horse, and led it back into the gate.

 

That was it. My horse riding days were through.

 

But recently I had a chance to redeem myself with the equine world. I have a good friend and neighbor who is part of the team at the JoyRide Center, a wonderful organization involved in therapeutic horsemanship. My friend contacted me the other day and asked if I could fold their logo into a book.

 

This is the kind of horse I can handle!

 

My first stop was at the used bookstore where I found this book to use. How's that for a great cover?

 

 

 

 And here's how the logo turned out. Pretty dang good, I think.

 

 

It will be part of their fundraising auction in September, so those of you in the area, be sure to check it out!

Sunflower Saga

The rudbeckia around Houston right now are spectacular. Every corner seems to have at least one bright yellow sunflower-looking spot.

I joined the fun a few weeks ago and added them along the dry river bed in my front yard. They haven't disappointed.



Yes that is actually a dry river bed heading straight for my front door and when it rains it's a wet river bed that flows under my house and drains into the much lower back yard. A River Runs Through It? Yep, that's my house.

 But, I digress.

Remember these lovelies from Easter time?



Captain America was starting to give me funny looks because they were still on my front door and it's now August.

So I replaced them with rudbeckia!

 I've written about my reluctance to paint book page before, but if it's going to be rudbeckia, it has to be yellow, right? So I went to Michael's and bought some spray paint. After I promised the clerk that I would not spray her name or mine on any nearby overpasses, she opened the locked cabinet and handed me a couple of cans of bright yellow.

Back home, I grabbed about 150 pages and headed for the back yard

I laid out a big piece of orange plastic to protect the grass and then I got pretty good at playing ring-around-the-rosy as I'd lay out a few pages, spray them, swing to the other side of the plastic, lay out a few pages, spray them, come back to the first side which was somewhat dry, stack those pages, lay out a few more, spray them, swing to the other side... and so on.

I was getting pretty dizzy. I'm not sure if it was from doing that aforementioned dance while breathing in the paint fumes or if it was from the mosquitoes who insisted on making me their evening meal. 

What I do for art! And to keep you people entertained! And to replace the outdated-by-five-months wreaths on my door!

After they were dry, I spent an evening in front of the TV watching The Escape Artist on PBS (good flick!) and making cones.

The next night it was Mod-Podging the center circles...

...gluing on the cones...

...and making the centers...

Ta da! My new favorites!

And it looks like Rudy likes them, too!

If Kids Are Going Back To School, It Must Be Halloween!

It's the beginning of August and you know what that means? It's time for Halloween!

Wait, I know that we still haven't made it through the first day of school, Labor Day, the first day of fall, or Columbus Day,

...but hey, I went to Michael's last week and I'm telling you, Halloween is here!

Lucky for you, these Halloween books are available right now in the Etsy shop.

Hurry! Only a few days until Thanksgiving!

Swirly Twirly Louisiana

I've been learning some interesting things about iris folding these days. Remember this guy? The swirls and twirls that you get depend on where the iris is.

 

 

And whether you twirl right...

 

 

...or left.

 

Ship Sliding Away

Remember when I bought that fancy new shipping station?

 

See how great it works in my craft room?

 

 

It's waiting for you to order a book so I can make a pretty package like this one for you!

Book Review: We, the Drowned

Title: We, the Drowned
Author: Carsten Jensen
Format: Kindle
Reading Dates: 1 Apr 2014 - 13 Jul 2014
Rating: ****1/2

I have decided that 2014 is not going to be the year that I try to get twenty books off my "to-read" list. It's going to be the year that I read long books. We, the Drowned is the first of my epics, and it is a dandy.

About a year ago I was sequestered in a hotel somewhere in LA waiting for Brian to audition for The Voice. There was a lot of down time and a lot of together time with Brian and at one point he said that he was ready to read an epic. Coincidentally, We, the Drowned was the next day's Kindle Daily Deal and it was described as a story "spanning over a hundred years," so I bought it for both of us on just that recommendation alone. It took me 10 months to start it; I shouldn't have waited so long.

The book is the story of the Danish town of Marstal and its people, many of them sailors whose livelihood depends on the sea. But the sea is fickle and many never return. The story begins in 1848 as Denmark and Germany go to war and for the next century follows the fortunes of men who board the large ships that leave Marstal and the women left behind.

The narrator of the book uses the pronoun we to tell the story of these men. At first I found that distracting but as the stories rolled on I began to see the point and by the end of the book I loved that Jensen used that technique. How else does a town refer to itself?

This book really grew on me. I had trouble finding the rhythm of the book at the beginning and then about a third of the way through I found myself wishing for free time with my Kindle so I could read some more. When I finished I went back and reread the beginning (that never happens) and I appreciated it so much more than on my initial reading.

Really great book! Highly recommended!