Heaven for the Tastebuds. No, Seriously.

Well, it's the turning of a page. The end of an era. The ultimate change in Life.As.We.Know.It. Both girls requested Texas Sheetcake for their birthdays (Friday, April 27th is Sydney and Sunday, April 29th is Carly's). My MOTHER is the maker of the sinful heaven we call Texas Sheetcake. Until this year.

This year, it's MY JOB to create the masterful dance amongst the tastebuds.

Ya know, it's a bit unnerving. Do you SEE that up there? Now, birthdays are a big deal around here, mostly because of the BUTTERCREAM FROSTING. Honest to God, we have horror stories of THIS IS NOT BUTTERCREAM in this house. It's a Big.Deal. When both girls requested Texas Sheetcake, that meant no regular cake with buttercream frosting.

Buttercream frosting is Rick's favorite.

Let's pause a moment to reflect on that. Buttercream = Rick's bestest friend. No buttercream this year.

Uh oh...

Here's the thing about Texas Sheetcake. It's SO sweet. It's only about an inch thick but super sweet so you don't get huge thick slices like regular, ordinary, every day cake. But it's so sweet, that's all you need. For about 20 minutes. Made in a jellyroll pan, we have about half of it left over every time. But each time I pass through the kitchen, I sliver off another little section and die a happy little death as it melts in my mouth then pretend I haven't done a THING during that passing through the kitchen until you hear: "Where'd all the cake go?!?!"

Happens every time.

Rick doesn't "really care for sheetcake."

Pardon me. My fingers cramped up big time in typing that and my brain momentarily short-circuited. I need a moment here...

For those who know him, Rick insists he's Texan even though he didn't move here until a few years ago and says things like, "I'z said" and "yestaday". But THIS? This is Texas BLASPHEMY! If you "don't really care for Texas Sheetcake", that screams YANKEE down in these here parts.

Which is fine. It leaves more for me and my drive-by bites until the entire thing is... GONE.

Until Sunday, when I make it again for Carly's birthday.

I printed off the recipe. This morning (the day before Syd's birthday), she walks by the printer and sees it. I get a Syd Look (if you know Syd, you know the look) and asked, "Is this Mimi's recipe???"

Me: Yes.

Syd: It better be.

Great. Thanks, Mom.

Busy Busy!

Working a lot this week in getting stuff listed in the shop (to see the full shop, click on the link there on the right!) Messing around on Etsy this morning, I found this "Mini Etsy" that creates a gallery with script to post so I'm trying it out here.



Pretty neat, eh?

I'm running a sale right now to celebrate the shop and in time for Mother's Day. Just enter the coupon code of MOTHER10 to receive 10% off!

Now I'm off to create... Woot!

Because I'm Worth It

Thanks for the catch-phrase, L'Oreal. I'm temporarily borrowing it.

I'm struggling with what to price my items. I think my pricing is very reasonable -- prices I would pay  if I saw something similar.  Some of my friends think I don't charge enough. So then I go online and look around at similar items made from others and note they charge significantly more than I do. No way would I pay that much for something like that.

So it left me pondering what to do.

One of my friends, Patti, pointed out that when I see something similar to what I make, and I see the price, I think the price is unreasonable because *I* know how to make it. I know the price of the fabric or yarn, I know how to make it, so I'm skewed in thinking they're charging way too much simply because I know how to make it myself. OF COURSE I wouldn't pay those prices. But what would someone who CANNOT make it be willing to pay for it? Such a DUH yet AH HA! moment for me. Thanks, Patti!

And Rick, being the King that he is, says if he is looking around for an item, he wouldn't pick the "cheapest" one. He wouldn't get the most expensive either unless it gave him something the others didn't. But he'd be very interested in items in the mid- to upper mid-price range. If you price it "cheap", people think "cheap". And although I love making things out of scrap and upcycling fabric, therefore keeping my overall initial out of pocket expense down -- so I keep my sell price down -- what if someone wants a custom order and I have to actually purchase the fabric? Well, now I either have to charge them more for their awesome custom order, which doesn't seem right, or I have to take a loss out of pocket, and trust me, I don't sell nearly enough to take a loss like that. So... I have to consider "What would this cost me if I had to recreate it from brand new fabric?"

Another selling point I hadn't thought about: I need to point out that my items are "one of a kind",  even if the item can be duplicated. Just because I use the same afghan pattern, even if I use the same color yarn, no two are ever EVER the same. A needle size could be different. The finished size could vary. And that doesn't even include customizations I can do, OR when I'm sewing instead of crocheting and making extremely unique pieces out of upcycled fabrics. And for "one of a kind", people expect to pay a bit more.

I don't really see my "time" as something to charge for. I love doing this. I'd be doing these things even if I didn't have a shop (in fact, the shop is new. I used to only sell at craft fairs). But just because I'd do it anyway doesn't make the time I invest any less valuable. My time is worth it.

And ya know what? The things I make a worth it too, even if it's a bit more than what others charge or a little more than what I think I should charge. Sometimes we have to step away and trust those we know who will tell us like it is: Your stuff is worth more, Bren.

And who am I to argue?

Please Leave a Message

As I mentioned a few days ago, Rick doesn't think I'm good at time management. He knows I go full speed all day every day, but that I feel like I'm not getting anything done, at least nothing I WANT to get done. And as I also mentioned a few days ago, I hate that he's right.

So starting today, April 11th (which happens to be my half birthday -- I'm now 42 1/2... UGH! Which I didn't even realize until writing that sentence...) I have implemented a new schedule for myself.

Here's the problem. I'm a stay-at-home mom. Kind of. I mean, I'm legally disabled -- the government pays me not to work due to my health problems. But at the end of the day, with three of the four kids still in the house (I miss my Shandalanda), I'm a stay at home mom.

And you know what that means? It means I OBVIOUSLY have all the time in the world to do everything for everyone else the moment they contact me. Over the course of the last three years, I've allowed myself to be too accessible. Rick ever so lovingly pointed out that the situation I find myself in is a direct result of my allowing it to happen.

Between the house, the gardens, the kids, the dogs, my husband, Scouts, Carly's band, Carly's theater, Cooper's Boy Scouts, Sydney's color guard and band and art club, the laundry and the laundry and the laundry and the laundry, dinner, dishes and dishes and dishes, vacuuming and mopping -- those are my biggest time sucks. That doesn't include the other things: dusting, toilets, errands for groceries, running around with Rick on weekends when I'm not with Scouts... I mean, it's endless.

Gotta love the retro apron she's wearing, right?! 

Now don't get me wrong. I KNOW I'm very blessed to have this new life of mine. I love that there are so many things for my kids and my family to be involved in and help them grow as individuals. But sometimes I just want to stop and BREATHE for a moment.

As I type this out, I've taken a lunch break from my office. We gutted it a few weeks back and I'm still working on getting everything back in place so I can sew and get projects moving. From the chair I'm sitting in, there are two different crocheting projects staring me down and a pile of book/journal covers waiting to be photographed and put up in my shop on Etsy. I love to blog and I used to ALL the time -- but it's one of the things that fell to the side when everything else smothered it out. Why did I let that happen? No idea. But I'm aware of it and now I'm working on fixing it, one post at a time.

Making time for what BRENDA wants to do.

Because that's who I am. I know I'm a wife, a mother, a daughter, a sister, a Scout leader and others depend on me for those positions in their lives, and I'm glad they do. But I'm also Brenda and I have interests outside of those other things. I have the NEED to create. I need to cultivate those things that make Brenda happy to keep that desire from burning out.

So I created a schedule. Today is my first day with it, and it seems to be working. It won't always work like I have planned. As of right now, mornings are for being in my office to create. When I do my big errands/grocery days, I like to those in the mornings after the school run (and I sometimes get a lunch date with my Richard!) But it's a mental acknowledgement of prioritizing. And I think that it will work.

So if you call and I don't answer, that's why. If you HAVE to leave voicemail, okay but I hate hate hate checking that, so your best bet would be to text me.

Talking to Rick a bit ago, telling him my plans for rest of the day, he said: "Well, don't forget about the house!"

No worries, honey. Even if I COULD forget about all the things calling me from within this house, you'd be RIGHT THERE to remind me. *kisses*

Letting Go

For those that really, really know me, you know we don't "celebrate" Easter as a religious holiday. If you want to know more, feel free to ask me (but only if you can remove emotion from the conversation -- otherwise, don't bother. People need to learn to remove emotion from topics of politics, sex and religious and then maybe they could actually HEAR what others have to say, but I digress...)

For the first time in 21 years, I'm letting go.

I'm done.

The part of Easter my family and I do is about bunnies and candy and blah blah blah. It was great when the kids were little -- we'd all go to my aunts' or my parents and my cousins would be there with their kids -- I have some really neat photos. And it was okay the last couple of years in our new life with Rick -- he got to see what we've always done and hide eggs and eat candy and stuff with us. In fact, our first Easter together we were at Rick's house and we went to the park to hide eggs and fly kites. The kites were FUN. As I let go of the other things, I may pick up on the afternoon of kite-flying.

But we've done it. For TWENTY-ONE Easters, I've stuffed baskets and a gazillion plastic eggs. I've dyed and glittered and white-crayon'ed and had stained fingers and 12 cups to wash when the mess was over and eggs deviled to the point of gagging. But ya know, my "little ones" will be 11 and 12. I think it's time to let it go and get some rest from this until grandkids start (please oh PLEASE no time soon, thankyouverymuch!)

I did get a few pieces of candy for our dinner on Sunday night -- just a regular dinner, all of us together before another hectic week starts. And it feels a little weird. By this time, I'd have the eggs out and stuffing 150 of them while snacking on the candy and getting irritated at those high maintenance eggs that just never seem to want to stay closed.

And ya know, it's a little sad. But at the same time, it's very freeing. My time and energy and our money we'd spend on things we don't even need -- those are worth so much more.

Have you ever let go of a tradition you've done for decades?

I hope you have a great weekend with your loved ones. Go out and make a memory -- it may not mean a lot to you, but you never know what memory you're part of making for someone else. I'm off to buy some kites! In the mean time, enjoy a little peep show!

Around here...

Warning: rambling ahead! I'm exhausted. And I'm sunburned. Which, having Lupus, is not a good thing. We now have two gardens plus two flowerbeds -- those extend around the sides of the house -- and it's kicking my butt.

I love love love the clearance table at Lowe's. Once something isn't "pretty" anymore, they get rid of it by marking it next to nothing (I will not make a comparison here about mid-aged men...). I had a lot of stuff on Monday, and this older man in front of me checking out made the snide comment of, "Oh... I see your husband is going to be busy."

Um, no. Rick does the yard. I do the flowers. He has helped me dig some larger holes for new stuff, but rest of it is on me (including digging holes for more roses and ferns, etc.) So I'm staring at this man and I said, "Actually, I'll do all of this." But I WANTED to say, "You wouldn't blink an eye to know I've had four kids, NONE of which would be defined as tiny, yet apparently you don't think I'm strong enough to dig a hole with a shovel?!?!" But I was a good girl and simply corrected him ever so politely. I swear.

Then he said: "I hope he knows how lucky he is."
I laughed and said, "I hope so too."
But I THOUGHT: Your poor wife. AND Rick should think he's lucky to have me as his wife for many reasons, the LEAST of which is because he doesn't have to shovel holes in the garden for his wimpy wife.

Hmpph.

And although this blog post is about my gardens, it's really about time. How it flies. How there's not enough time to do all the things I want/need to do with the yard, the dogs, the kids, Scouts, around the house, much less for my shop -- crocheting and sewing and creating. It's amazing to me to look back at LBR (Life Before Rick) and how much I slept. Sometimes I really, really miss those days. Fibro alone has me dragging, but now adding Lupus -- it's a nightmare sometimes. But... there are Things To Do. And more importantly, I WANT to do them, which wasn't who I was 3.5 years ago  -- LBR.

Rick says I'm bad at time management. I'm running around from 7am and falling into bed around 9-10 unless Carly's working -- last night she and I didn't get back from picking her up from work until 11:15pm. That'll change soon when she gets her driver's license.

One moment while I sob a little...

Okay, where was I? Oh. Yes. Time management.

You know what I HATE HATE HATE? When Rick is right.

So I think I use my time to the best of my ability. I crochet while waiting. I look at Scout stuff while cooking -- or field texts/phone calls, blah blah blah.

Today -- I spent almost 7 hours in the garden that is almost done being planted. 80% of what I did? REplanting. Moving stuff I'd already planted to somewhere I wanted it to be instead. Now... those who have known me awhile I know I have a saying and it still holds true: It's not my fault.

I knew the kitchen garden was bugging me.  But ya know, once you've bought the stuff, it's gotta get in the ground STAT. But still... I didn't really like it. And I made a new little flowerbed next to our backdoor garden -- which I love love love the tropical look it has going and it's FLOURISHING! YAY! But what I put in the new flowerbed -- roses -- I kept worrying about them. They were getting filtered sun, not full sun.

Sighs again...

But it's not my fault because of this: I'm new to gardening. Until three years ago, the only thing I could grow was kids and even that was often times questionable (and still is!) And each year with the success of the year behind me cheering me on, I do more, and more, and more.

I swear I think I have a HUGE masochist streak for some ungodly reason that really needs to be purged. But the horribly hard work -- so worth it when people comment on it -- and so worth it to look out the window of my garden and BEAM as things grow, as birds flying in and out, and as butterflies brighten my view.

But then...

I have a thing for perennials. They are worth the extra money because they're an INVESTMENT when they come back year after year. But I've got weird areas -- full sun. One wall what's all shade all day.Wow... Brenda, you're rambling.

So yesterday at the store I painfully cranked out $10 for a MAGAZINE on gardening, and I realized my mistakes in reading it. Truly worth the $10 for the insight and knowledge it fed me. And there's that sigh -- reading what I'd unknowingly did "wrong" and the work ahead to fix it. So that's what I did today for 7 hours. Moving, digging, replanting. But -- it's finally looking a way that doesn't make me cringe.

So yeah, Rick is right -- I'm not great at time management, apparently, when I spent 5 of the 7 hours uprooting and replanting most of my stuff. But now that I'm EDUCATED on it, it shouldn't happen again, right?

I'm sorry, what did you say?

Yeah, I know. But it's me, and well... sometimes it really isn't my fault.