 We stopped to chAT with the lady in the hAT. She wAS, like us, dressed foR the weaTHer ... wHEther shE liked iT or nOT. The weaTHer thAt is. WinTER weaTHer. WhETHer it'S brISK and brIght or gray like tOdAY, we bUTTON and bOOT it. Then we snAP, zIP, and tUCK it, tOO. bUT we'D qUIVER and shiVer if thAT was aLL thAT. So wE pAUSe and we pONDer for thAT which iS thAT ... WhERe's my hAT? This poem came together over the course of a few days with the help of a thesaurus and a rhyming dictionary. Both are helpful in similar and different ways. The rhyming dictionary does just what it sounds like, finds words that rhyme with one another ... in this case I was looking for words that rhyme with hat. Quiver and shiver came to me without the dictionary ... but maybe they were inspired by it? The thesaurus is, I think, a sometimes overlooked tool for writing. Word choice makes a difference.  I once wrote a post about Brussels sprouts that included a bit about a chef who appeared on a local television show ... he said he was going to "make" Brussel sprouts. It caught my attention because I thought, he's not going to "make" Brussels sprouts, he's going to (and here's where a thesaurus can help) bake, steam, or maybe roast them, but he's definitely not making them. Choosing the right words not only makes your writing more interesting, it can lead to more accurate writing as well. This week's story starter calendar got me started on hats and offers a nod to the thesaurus ... if you're not already, sign up today and get the calendar delivered, every week, straight to your inbox. And start writing. 
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 A friendly competition
We've got a friendly competition going here, and maybe you do too, in your household, with Wordle, or maybe with Jeopardy questions, a crossword puzzle, or board game like Scrabble. Without fail, at some point during the day, one will ask if the other has done Wordle and log in with how many tries it took to get to the answer. It's a friendly competition, though occasionally when I suggest I'm giving in because it's taking too long, I'm confronted with the challenge to hang in there. I usually do, but really, it's suppose to be fun. If it becomes frustrating or it's taking too long, I'm all set. Word nerd A few of you let me know how well you did identifying all the states on the map of the U.S., so here's another challenge. Tomorrow is Word Nerd Day, and I can say with pride, I am a word nerd. Editing? Bring it on. Spelling? Just ask. Writing? It's hard to get started, but once I do ... To celebrate Word Nerd Day, I'm sharing a blackout poetry exercise that's all about finding and choosing words. Click on the image above, or here, print the pages and try it. And if you've got a friend who might be interested, share it with them. Chances are you'll have entirely different results ... it's surprising how many variations can come from the same text. And don't let the title, Holidays, put you off, it's not what you might be thinking. And share your results, I'd love to see what you come up with. Note: the example above is not from the same text. You can simply blackout the words you don't need, like I've done, or create a more illustrated version of blackout poetry, like some of these.  Happy New Year The month of January is hobby month, and I decided to share my paper snowdrops because they're cheerful ... especially when photographed in the sunlight. Turns out, snowdrops are also the flower of the month for January and, not surprising, they represent hope and rebirth. Excellent! The flowers I make are the ones that capture my attention. It's that simple, really. There are no ulterior motives ... other than hoping I have the paper and supplies I need on hand ... and finding the instructions and tips I need to create them. When I did the research on snowdrops, I held my breath, worried that the flower might symbolize something unfavorable. What then? I was glad that the snowdrop represents hope and rebirth, but maybe I don't need to worry so much about it. Every flower I've researched has multiple meanings. Each one, in some way, symbolizes hope, love, and sorrow ... the very things life embodies. Symbolism ... is it helpful or a hindrance? Like flowers, the new year is full of symbolism ... endings and new beginnings, a fresh start. Have you made resolutions? Yes. No? Either way, maybe the best we can do is focus and apply ourselves to the things we want to create, do, or change; work at accepting what can't be changed; and in the meantime, pause to see the wonder that surrounds us. The remarkable petals of a flower, the sound of the wind through the trees, the tears that come when you chop an onion, or the comfort found in a spoonful of warm soup when there's a chill in the air. But most of all ... remember that starting or staying with something new is never easy, but persistence is key. Happy New Year!  Get your weekly calendar of story starters ... free!
 Mother of six bakes cookies, hides them in the washing machine. As I study and experiment with different ways to tell stories, one method I'm experimenting with is telling a story in one sentence. It seem like an easy task and in some ways it is, but the key is to use words that load your story with enough information to garner interest, build mystery, or add humor. Of course I never knew my mother hid cookies in the washing machine. It was a brilliant move. After all, who was doing the wash? Mom. Who was baking the cookies ... and maybe wanted to save one or two for herself? Mom. And who didn't want to hear, "___ and ___ ate all the cookies and I didn't get any."? Mom. Today is Bake Cookies Day. I've been baking a lot of cookies these last few weeks, and while I don't need to hide them, I do like to bundle them up and give them away. The cookies in the photo above are Mexican Hot Chocolate Cookies (note: I cut the 1-1/2 cup sugar measure to 1 cup in the batter and they're plenty sweet). Oatmeal Raisin are always popular and remain one of my all-time favorites (note: I don't add the cinnamon). And this time of year, I do like a Pfefferneusse cookie, though I'm looking for a new, spicier recipe than the one I've been using ... if you have one would you share it? Thanks. One sentence memoir Are you a baker or a cook? How many stories could you bring to life in one sentence?   The bagels were good, but it was the dog biscuits that kept me going back to the bakery in the square where they made fresh-out-of-the-oven dog biscuits along with bagels, cookies, and cakes. So it became a routine after our walk on the other side of town to stop at the bakery for a bagel and a biscuit on our way home. I'd park the car and as I got out, say, "Time for treats." And she'd track my every step ... from the car to the bakery door and back again. When I returned to the car, she'd thump, thump, thump her wagging tail against the seat back and quiver with anticipation. Leaning forward she'd press her nose between the front row seats and sniff the air as I put my coffee in the cup holder and reach into the small white bag for the treats ... mine and hers. Until the day there were none. Dog biscuits that is. Sold out they said. When I returned to the car, I put the coffee in the cup holder, and said, "Sorry, Ag, no biscuits today." She let out a whimper. "I know," I said, "I'm sorry." And she whimpered again ... and again. And again. So I reached into my pocket to offer up a dry, everyday, boring biscuit that I called a treat but knew, today, it really wasn't. Bakery biscuits were the real treat, and she knew it. I reached back and held the biscuit steady for her to take it from my hand as she had so many times before. But not today. No. She turned her head to left, lifted her nose, closed her eyes, and went silent. There would be no more wagging, no more whining, and certainly no substitutions. Read more of my adventures with Agatha ...   The half-eaten frosted Pop-Tart with sprinkles sat on a napkin on the cashier's stool. I was second in line at the fish market and when I stepped forward, the Pop-Tart popped into my line of sight. It was undeniable ... the shape, the color, the size ... it was a Pop-Tart. "It's been a long time since I've had a Pop-Tart," I said to the cashier. "Me too," she said. "It was gifted to me by a friend." We both laughed. "Is it from a bakery?" I asked. "No, it's real," she said. And we laughed again. I asked if it was real because there are bakeries that recreate nostalgic favorites ... like the Ring Ding A Ling at one of my favorite local bakeries. Ring Dings were a rare, favorite treat when I was a kid ... especially when they were wrapped in foil. Tomorrow is Comfort Food Day and while a Pop-Tart might not be my first choice ... and guessing from the cashier's laughter, unlikely to be hers either, we both enjoyed the nostalgia it generated. What are your comfort food favorites? Seems I've got a hankering for a Ring Ding ... foil or no foil.  It was on the menu ... the adult menu, not the children's menu. And I wanted it. French toast with a schmear of peanut butter, topped with sliced bananas, maple syrup, and whipped cream. It was what I wanted, but it seemed so decadent, childish even, for a young woman having brunch with her new in-laws to order something like that. An omelet, or even pancakes it seemed, would make a better impression, be more mature. But the omelets, the pancakes, the over-easy eggs, even the crispy home fries couldn't hold my attention. So I ordered it. French toast with a schmear of peanut butter, topped with sliced bananas, maple syrup, and whipped cream. It was delicious. A layered sugar bomb sweetened with my father-in-law's delight ... at the thought of it when I placed my order, and the sight of it when it came to the table. I sometimes wonder if he, too, wanted to order the French toast with a schmear of peanut butter, topped with sliced bananas, maple syrup, and whipped cream, decided not to ... but was pleased someone else did. Glad it was me. Tomorrow is National French Toast Day ... how do you like yours?  We once went apple picking and needed a map to find the place. Days later, I drew a simple one, this is how it started. Maps (and geography) came up again this week with the question of where one state was situated within the United States. We weren't sure. So the challenge was presented ... how many states on a blank map of the United States could you place? We challenged one another. I was certain I'd get most of them. He wasn't convinced he (nor I could place them). Turns out he was right. Living in the Northeast, I was able to identify all the states around Maine ... and along the east coast and west coast. A few others like, Louisiana, Texas, Oklahoma, Michigan, and Idaho I got because I remembered them by their unique shape. Buy Idaho potatoes and chances are, there's an image of the state on the bag. Same here in Maine. It was in the middle of the country where things got muddled. It's Geography Awareness Week ... so how do you think you'd do identifying each state? I created a printable blank map you can download. It's a two-page PDF ... page one has all the states, but is blank, page two identifies each state. Try not to look at that until you've tried filling in the blanks. And if you need help, engage someone and start a conversation ... after all, it's Better Conversation Week. Or, send a map to a friend and challenge them, too. In the spirit of National Game and Puzzle Week, use the map to create other challenges ... identify all the states you've lived in or traveled through, or see if you can list the capitol of each ... or quote the state slogan, or identify the state flower or bird.   Years ago I landed a job to design a button and produce 150 copies. I can't remember what the buttons were for or what they said, but when I did my research, purchasing a hand-press button machine (with 1,000 blanks) wasn't much more expensive than ordering custom buttons from a vendor.
I thought ... wow, I can make my own buttons. What's the saying ... the more you buy the more you save? Hmmm. The top button, Girls Rule! is my favorite. It was from a button-making afternoon with some tweens ... a gift from one of the participants. The vote buttons are from a set of four that represent amendments to the Constitution related to voting. I created and gave them away before the 2008 election ... and still hear from people on election day saying they wore their button to the polls. Well done. The small buttons are ones I've purchased, found, or picked up in giveaways. All part of a collection. Thursday is National Button Day ... not so much for button pins, but buttons for clothes. And there's a collection of those, too. It's a utilitarian thing ... can't throw away a perfectly good button even if I'm not sure when, or if, I'll ever use it. Occasionally I dump the button jar to see what's in there and spot the yellow sunburst buttons I cut from the wrap skirt I wore that summer after high school. And the metal buttons with the embossed swirls I cut from the wool sweater I wore until the elbows had holes and the yarn unraveled from the cuffs. Maybe that's why we collect things. It's like collecting memories.  It's Daylight Saving Time today ... and I'm reminded of my night in the house of clocks ... When the cuckoo chimes I once spent the night in a house that had a cuckoo clock and a grandfather clock ... and I didn't sleep a wink. The cuckoo clock chirped every hour on the hour, and again every half hour. The grandfather clock was set to strike four times an hour: - every hour on the hour - at a quarter past the hour - at the half hour - and once again at a quarter to the hour I tossed and turned all night. My mind reeling not so much from the different chimes, but from my inability to fix a pattern to the sounds of the cuckoo clock and the grandfather clock ... I didn’t know a grandfather clock sounds four(!) times an hour. On one of our more recent walks, we scuffed through a walkway littered with pine cones. The kind of pine cones that hang from a cuckoo clock and make it tick. My grandparents had a cuckoo clock with pine cone weights, and that cuckoo clock where I spent the night had them, too. I’d always seen the weights and the clocks as one. But when I saw so many pine cones scattered across the walkway, I saw them as the cuckoo-clock maker must have seen them, inspiration for the weights and keeping time. Hello Chickadee!  If you like the cuckoo clock bird collage, grab the Hello Chickadee! printable stationery set. It includes the cuckoo clock image, a chickadee, and feathers, too.
 When I decided to do a post about crows, I realized there were myths and stereotypes about crows I didn't understand.
I wondered ... Why do crows have such a bad rap? Did the sight of my cut-out crow in the bush give you the shivers? Is it because they're big and black and fly in large, boisterous groups. Maybe it's the call of the crow. Ca-caw. When I made cut-out crow silhouettes for Halloween decorations I decided to do the research. Why are they symbols of this ghoulish holiday? For one thing, they're scavengers. They eat dead things. Yes, that's creepy. Ca-caw. And the silhouette ... a crow in cemetery on a gravestone. Spooky. But really, they go to the cemetery to perch in the tall trees, and feed on insects where the grass is mowed ... easy pickings. And bad optics ... gravestones and silhouettes. Ca-caw. Or maybe it's because they remember faces. Oh, yes, do something nasty to a crow and it will remember you ... and tell its friends. No hiding from a crow. Ca-caw. Ca-caw. So that's the rap. But it's not the whole story. Sure, they'll hold a grudge if they are treated poorly, but likewise ... do something nice for a crow and it will remember that. But beware, I'm not sure a good deed will cancel the bad ... they remember. Ca-caw. They help one another, travel in family flocks, are loyal partners, and use tools like sticks to get things done. Crows are smart. Really smart. Ca-caw. Ca-caw. The question is ... are we smart enough to push aside the myth and bad optics to see them for what they are ... big beautiful birds. Happy Halloween! A recipe for memoir: stories filled with ingredients you can measure ... and some you can't10/23/2022  The request is always the same. Birthday pie, not cake. And this year, apple pie. If I had to choose, I'd probably go with mincemeat (the dried fruit version). I might choose mincemeat as my pie of choice to eat, but when it's comes to making pie ... blueberry, pumpkin, mincemeat, cherry, or key lime, it's the apple that gets my attention. It's the one overflowing with ingredients that can't be measured. The one that makes me think of my mum peeling ribbons of peel with each apple. And my grandmother ... whose voice neared a whisper when she told me she used only half the white sugar measure, instead balancing it with half brown sugar, despite what the recipe called for. And when I make the crust I think of my friend who is a baker. She adds a splash a vinegar. And another, who shared her mother's recipe that includes an egg. I'd never added an egg to my pie crust. Yesterday I decided to give it a try. What a pie! It's delicious. My best ever, I think. The crust is flaky and tender and the filling as sweet as ever. It's the perfect blend of ingredients ... some that can be measured and so many others that can't. Recipes we love, remember, and share offer endless story ideas. Share your experiences with traditional foods, comfort foods, that recipe your friend won't share, or that recipe fail ... we all have them. Share your stories in a narrative poem, short essay, or a chapter in that book you want to write. But before you go, how do you like your apple pie ... with a side of vanilla ice cream, or maybe like "M", with a few slices of sharp cheddar?  A picture book memoir of Agatha, nose-to-the-ground, scent sniffing basset hound who loved to walk ... and stop and sniff. A beautifully illustrated book for dog-lovers of all ages. "... We love everything about it. Dogs, nature, and phenomenally innovative art! Well done."
 When things appear to be stacked against you, think again
Since the death this week of actor Angela Lansbury, there have been tributes, articles, and stories about her life. Not surprising, given her decades-long career that touched generations of loyal fans. She was an award-winning movie, television, and theater actor, as well as the voice of Mrs. Potts, the talking tea pot in the animated film, "Beauty and the Beast." In reading and listening to the tributes, I was struck at how often her looks were mentioned. ... by her and others. One article stated, "She may have lacked the classic good looks and voice of her era, but ...." And another quoted Lansbury: "I wasn't very good at being a starlet," she said. "I didn't want to pose for cheesecake photos and that kind of thing." Works for me, I don't like cheesecake. And evidently, it worked for her. By all accounts she was a successful and respected actor. But she was also passed over for roles and awards she hoped to win. But she didn't give up. It can be so easy to judge ourselves against the expectations of others. What's beautiful, who's pretty. Who has won awards, who hasn't. And to think or worry that it matters. It's hard to know how Lansbury really felt about her looks and how she was judged. But in the end, as she said, "I was a primarily an actress and not a pretty face." She was an actor who wanted to act. And she did that by taking roles that came her way. By doing the work. Because you never know where it might lead ... and because it may, as Lansbury said, "turn out to be the thing that will lead you to the role which is sublime." I found all the commentary about Lansbury's looks discouraging. But now I see that in her willingness to talk about her looks and how she was perceived, she taught us something. Whether you yearn to act, paint, write, cook, sew, sing, hike, run, or swim, focus on doing just that. Ignore the naysayers ... and the looks and success of others. Do the thing you want to do ... it's the best way to get to where you want to be.  Meet Agatha ... otherwise known as Ag, Aggie, Agatha Goop 'n Slime, and my favorite, Thunderella, because ... let's just say she was never light on her feet. Do you have a dog? Does going for a walk sometimes feel like a chore? That's how I felt sometimes ... especially when it came to walking a nose-to-the-ground, scent-sniffing basset hound. Agatha liked to walk, but more than that, she liked to sniff and smell ... ALL the smells. And more often than not, it meant we did a whole lot of stopping and not a lot of walking. It was frustrating ... until I started looking around and discovered all there was to see. It changed everything. And that's why I wrote, Things I Notice When I Walk the Dog, available this Friday, October 7.  It's a picture book ... dedicated to Agatha, to dogs, walking, and nature. A book for dog owners, people who like to walk (with or without a dog), and children and adults alike who whine and whimper when it's time to walk the dog.  Things I Notice When I Walk the Dog is a delightful picture book filled with inspiration and insight. Throughout the book, there are more than 25 things to notice ... how many will you spot? And how many things will you notice the next time you go for a walk?  Sign-up for the Waystation Whistle newsletter and get an email when the book is available to order.
 It's easy to forget how
much the light changes, how brisk the air becomes how summer greens and wax beans get squashed in the mashing of buttercup, butternut ... and blue hubbard, too how apples and pumpkins now vie for the pie and a warm bowl of soup makes me slurp, sip, and sigh ------------------------ If you're struggling to write, try a short narrative poem like the one above. Short lines with lots of detail can help you put your thoughts into words. Focus on word choice, and for fun, throw in some rhymes. If you're stuck, grab a thesaurus or a rhyming dictionary and see what comes up.   I'd been down that path before. It's a short trail through the woods that loops out to a field and back again.
Just weeks ago, the trail was upgraded and I found myself looking at the ground as we walked: - at the downed tree branches repurposed as edging - the new wooden bridge that carried us over that always-muddy section of the trail - at the (so many) mushrooms that blossomed after the rain - and the changing foliage ... reminding me autumn is a cool couple of weeks away It was entirely captivating until the trail took a turn. A hard left in the middle of nowhere When we rounded the corner, I glanced back over my shoulder. I'd been down this path before, but I didn't remember such an abrupt turn. But it was there, clear as could be when I looked back. And then I saw the sun ... casting light high upon the tree trunks. And farther on, the mist ... hovering over the field. Was I missing the forest ... for the mushrooms? While I was focused on the trail I discovered the mushrooms, signs of autumn in the leaves, and a squirrel sprinting across the path. But when I looked up, I saw which direction the trail was headed, the light streaming through the trees, and the early morning mist. And all of a sudden, I wasn't sure where to look, afraid I might miss something. And it made me think the next edition of Tinplate: Birds & Birding. The day before I was doubting everything about it. Wondering if I should toss it out and start over. Or forget the whole thing. I was deep in detail ... ruminating over homing pigeons, plumage, and migration. All the while, losing direction ... and all sense of why I started it to begin with. Until the walk in the woods. I realized I'd been looking down ... for too long. That it was time to look up, to review the project as a whole, check my bearings, and see where I was. I started Waystation Whistle and Tinplate because I believe in the power of hobbies, passions, and distractions to help you (and me) tell a different story about your day. I'm no birding expert, but by watching the birds I see in my neighborhood and doing a bit of research I'm learning more and more, and I'm hoping to encourage you to make a few discoveries of your own. There's plenty of work to be done, but for now, maybe that's the answer for all of us: focus on the details to make whatever it is the best it can be, but remember to look up, too. To check in to see where we are and where we're going ... so we can spot the turn up ahead ... and the light streaming through the trees. And maybe a bird or two.  The shape of things
After working on this collage bit for a while, I wondered how things were coming together, so I took a photograph. It helps me see things more objectively. And I wonder, what do you see? I hope you see the start of a great horned owl(?). There's a perfectly imperfect element to collage that I like. How even small bits, like that crescent moon snip of yellow paper on the circle of black, can transform it into an eye ... one that looks like it's looking back. When I set it in place, it changed everything. Stopping to "smell" the flowers didn't prove as rewarding as I'd hoped, so for now, I'm back to collage, hoping this wise looking owl will prove more rewarding. And it is ... seeing it come to life is a hoot! Owl are you today?  Lifting more than a wicker basket We woke before dawn to drive north in time to see the hot air balloons. When we arrived, sleepy spectators and the fabric of balloons yet to be inflated stretched across the open field.  Moments later, the roar of the first burner pierced the air signalling things were about to get interesting.  One by one the balloons, like oversized quilts on a clothesline, puffed and billowed.  Moving from one to another, we marveled at how big they were and how much they grew and grew ... and grew.  I've since learned that what we call the "balloon" is referred to as the envelope(!). There may be a scientific reason for the name, but I like the idea that, like a paper envelope, it holds so much anticipation and possibility. The way the fabric, laying as flat a paper envelope on the open field, conceals what will soon be revealed.  After a dozen teardrop balloons filled and took flight, we watch two others inflate. But these were not like the others. They had odd shapes filling and protruding from the envelope. No, we were no longer in teardrop territory ... these were different. At first all we could see were spike-like shapes protruding from the black fabric, and heard someone say, "it's a spider." But then something that looked like a crown appeared. And then a face ... is it a dog?  Not sure ... now it looks more like a bear?  No ...  It's a lion king(!) ... fully inflated, puffed up and tethered alongside a cartoon sloth.  What fun.
It would be impossible to stuff these jolly characters in an envelope, but it reminds me how much mail matters. How the sight of a paper envelope can, like the hot air that fills these balloons, lift spirits.  Knowing takes time When I placed the order for materials to make paper flowers, I had to wait a week for delivery. It was disappointing, but I did what I probably wouldn't have done had the materials arrived sooner ... read the book I borrowed from the library (the whole book, not just a chapter here or a passage there, the whole book), watched some videos (thank goodness), and found lots of examples of what's possible with paper flowers. Amazing. And then the paper arrived. I waited until the next day to get started, suddenly seized by doubt and overwhelm. The anticipation was over, now it was time to do the work. It's hard being a beginner Deep in crepe paper with sticky fingers, glue on my clothes, and scraps of snipped paper all over the place, I found myself mired doubt. This might be too much, I told myself. And I pouted ... wondering if it really was all too much. But, after multiple breaks to wash the glue from my fingers, a lot of deep breaths, and three hours of concentration, I had my first flower. A white cosmos. The finished flower was such an accomplishment. It's given me the incentive to keep going. To keep trying. Eager to see how well I did, I took the paper flower up the street and nestled it in among the real ones growing on the corner lot. I'm working on my second flower and feeling the same doubts ... is this worth it? Do I really want to pursue this? I'm not sure, but I do know what I need to do: Give it time. It would be easy to give up now. I'm frustrated and want quick results, but I know better. It's a familiar feeling. The same feeling I get when I start writing ... this newsletter, a letter to a pen pal, and just every other writing project. It's the feeling I got when I was painting room after room in the house these past few months. And so many other projects. But I've learned: staying with it matters. Is there something you're ready to bail on? Would it be better to hang in there a bit longer? Sometimes, it is good to say, "Nah, I think I'm done." But other times, we just need to dig a little deeper, hang in a little longer. After all, you never know how things might blossom ...  My second flower, the thistle, is a work in progress. The purple bits are too long, but I'm afraid to cut them. Afraid I'll cut too much and regret it. So I'm leaving it alone for a while. But I'm not giving up ... yet.
 Flowers ... paper and otherwise
Last week I received a beautiful gift from a friend ... a handmade paper box with cut paper roses adorning the lid. In the note she sent along with the box, she talked of the Victorian meaning of flowers ... roses in particular. They hold meaning for love, honor, faith, beauty, balance, passion, wisdom, and intrigue. My friend's flowers reminded me of the collage work I've done with flowers, much of it inspired by collage artist Mary Delany. Born in 1700, she started her collage work at age 72(!) where it's now exhibited at The British Museum. Delany's work was especially striking with black backgrounds and vivid colors. The floral arrangement above mimics Delany's style with the black background, but with natural materials. You can try it yourself by deconstructing and arranging just a few flowers (this arrangement is a lily, a daisy, some greens, and a small yellow flower I can no longer identify). Make your arrangement on black paper or some other background ... just be mindful of working outside and the breeze, it will wreak havoc with your petals (yes, that's the voice of experience). If you remember, a few weeks ago, I talked about wanting to create larger work and I think I've found a new direction. Three-dimensional paper flowers. Big ones! I'm so excited. But I must be patient. The supplies I need are not available locally, so I'm waiting for them to arrive in a few days and hope to have something to show next week. And remember, it's not too late to start something new. Mary Delaney did at 72 and from what I've read about her, it changed her life. Let's get going. |
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