Friday, February 27, 2015
Tuesday, February 24, 2015
Friday, February 20, 2015
Tuesday, February 17, 2015
Whisper of Love
Can I please get a raise of hands as to how many people will message one another and be in the same room?
Because seriously...all.the.time.
Labels:
family,
kids,
leo,
lucy,
smartphones,
true story
Friday, February 13, 2015
Friday Find-day
I'm pulling out old and new art and getting them ready to list on etsy. I wish I could figure out how to let people vote on what they would want as a greeting card. Then I could preorder them!
Tuesday, February 10, 2015
Honey-Do List
It's usually in the shower that I remember everything that needs doing and, as soon as I exit through the Magical Portal of Forgetfulness, it's gone like a puff of shower steam.
Friday, February 6, 2015
My birthday present to me!
My husband and I are setting up to make a video promotion for my upcoming etsy store, "Artist Ave," and before filming we hung up about a third of my art work. What a great birthday gift! The kids are enjoying it too.
The astute three year old immediately asked, "Mummy, why do you have so many ocean paintings?" A question that my family has been asking me every semester of college, my son, my son.
Many of these are getting ready to be made into cards a prints for the etsy store, others (like the sea shell painting) are not yet finished. Here's a selection of what Artist Ave will be offering!
The astute three year old immediately asked, "Mummy, why do you have so many ocean paintings?" A question that my family has been asking me every semester of college, my son, my son.
Many of these are getting ready to be made into cards a prints for the etsy store, others (like the sea shell painting) are not yet finished. Here's a selection of what Artist Ave will be offering!
Tuesday, February 3, 2015
Mr. Coffee
Four in the morning is an awful time of day. I used to stay up that late back in my wild and stupid days (mostly watching the six hour "Pride and Prejudice" and eating Cheetos with my sister). Now I dread the very sight of the clock when I'm forced out of my bed by the screeching crowbar voices of my children.
After coffee, they sound more like angels, but till then, I don't want to hear a peep or make toast for anybody.
After coffee, they sound more like angels, but till then, I don't want to hear a peep or make toast for anybody.
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