clear stampin' ... steps 1 2 3

Because Em wanted a bit more about clear stamps (and because I'm more than happy to talk about them), here's a little bit more about clear stamps.  

Clear stamps come in two parts - the stamp itself and the clear acrylic board that you place it on to use the stamp.  There are endless possibilities when it comes to the stamps.  I should know it took me hours to choose the ones I did.  I ended up with a set of letters and journaling boxes (artful boxes with "lines" for writing).  I also bought a set of acrylic boards with 3.  I especially picked out these boards because they had a grid on them making it easier to position my stamps straight.  In the short time that I've been using these I've found the 3"x3" one and the 2"x7" one the most useful.  Maybe if I had multiples of the letters I would get more use out of the big block, but having only one of each letter requires a little creativity and making use of the best characteristic of clear stamps... they're CLEAR!

How they work:

1.) Pull stamp up from clear plastic sheet and apply to acrylic board.  The stamp will stick to the board - pretty nifty.  Prior to pealing the stamp up from the plastic it's stored on I like to gage my positioning.  This can be done once on the acrylic board as well.  The clearness factor really helps with planning and getting the stamp in the right spot.  With regular stamps I was always giving the placement my best guess, but often it would come out wonky.

2.) Next you'll want to ink your stamp.  I have been using an ink pad to do this which works fine.  But I haven't been very satisfied with the quality of the ink pad I choose.  I believe you can ink your stamps with paints or liquid inking methods, but I don't have any experience with other options.  Maybe I should look into that.  I simply place my stamp firmly on the ink pad a few times since the pad usually isn't big enough to ink the entire stamp at one time.  Another advantage to the clearness is checking how well it was inked (but this could be done by just turning the stamp over too).  

3.) Look through the clear acrylic board, position your stamp and press down firmly.  This step might take a little trial and error as the quality of the stamped image depends on the amount of ink on your stamp, the quality of that ink on the stamp, and the distribution of the pressure you apply.  I've found though that even when it doesn't come out perfectly, I love the look I get with stamps.  

Now go stamp and get creative.  Another advantage of clear stamps is that you can combine many at one time.  So, spell words out and such.  Have fun!!

*a note: the links to the letters and acrylic boards are just to show you what I use.  I don't know anything about the sellers offering these products.  As always, if you purchase things online make sure you do it through a reputable seller.  

Pumpkin

In the house I lived in for the first 10 years of my life my mom had a big beautiful garden.  We had rows of green beans, and peas, carrots, radishes, and zucchini and squash and potatoes and... pumpkins!  We would pick out the giants as little starters at the nursery.  Little six packs of dark dirt with lime-y green leaves poking up through the soil.  By the time October rolled around the vines had taken over the middle of the garden.  It was fun to anticipate craving up the pumpkins and waiting impatiently for them to get just a bit bigger.

One year we had the hugest pumpkins ever.  To get them from the garden up to the patio we had to roll them up some planks of wood.  I'm pretty sure my mom brought out every knife in the kitchen in our attempts to open the pumpkins up.  All the boys that lived down our street enjoyed showing of their "manly" strength, but to no avail.  I think it was my dad who finally got the top off these giants.  The hull was about 6 inches thick - no wonder they were so hard to open up.  

Pumpkins aren't just for kids.  Lukas and I had fun this October picking out pumpkins while we were in Arcata.  And we had fun planning and carving them too.  Lukas made Mr. Peanut and I tried my hand at doing a silhouette.  It only took me about 3 hours, but it did turn out cool.  My mom got inspired too.  

Lukas has informed me that, "It's January, you know?  You can't write about pumpkins in January!"  But, I'm going to write about pumpkins so there.   

my days

A little break in the posts with letters... 

I got inspired to scrapbook by this amazing site.  I love the words and pictures simplicity she has going.  So, I decided to put a scrapbook together for last years adventures.  I wanted to try to emulate her style and I ended up loving the new look.  I printed pictures smaller than normal and cropped in and got many pages with a very collage-y feeling.  I wish I could take credit for the look of this scrapbook, but my complete inspiration is from this really creative woman.  It's fun to be inspired.  I spent over 1 1/2 hours in Beverly's picking out new clear stamps and pretty papers for my new scrapbook.  (good thing Lukas didn't come, he never would have lasted that long.)  I'd been wanting to try clear stamps for a little bit now and I have to say... I'm hooked.  If you've never used them you should definitely give them a try.  I loved the clean lines of stamping and the versatility these provided.  Much more fun than stickers and so much neater than my handwriting.  

A few of my favorite pages... (pictures not super great)

Onions

I wish I had the prefect picture to go with this post, but this one will have to do.  We're still in the latke making process so I guess it counts.

Latkes are one of the most tasty foods I know of.  Who doesn't like fried potatoes with a little onion thrown in?!  And, latkes are some of the simplest foods to make.  Seriously, I know how to make them without a recipe and that's saying a lot.  The hardest part is grating all the potatoes and we made that much much easier by using the food processor.  

Our little food processor makes the most horrible, loud noise.  Maybe it's because it's small, but the high pitch whine is unbearable.  Therefore, my dad produced ear plugs for us to wear while I shoved the potatoes and onions through the little machine.  And by ear plugs I mean the yard work/lawn mower muffler type.  

Now any good cook and most anyone that has ever sliced an onion knows that given the right onion you'll begin to tear up moments into cutting into the onion.  I don't know what it is about some onions, but there can be ones that are much worse than the others.  We had particularly pungent onions in our latkes this year.

So, here's what I wish I had a picture of, but what you'll just have to imagine.  Me in my apron, ear plugs in place, chopping away with gigantic alligator tears rolling down my cheeks.  It was a sight to behold.  

Noise

We watched a romantic sunset from the ridge above Camp Tawonga the weekend Lukas came up to visit me while I was working at camp.  The excitement of seeing my boyfriend was mixed with the excitement of seeing under the stars.  Within the excitement of sleeping outside was a little bit of worry about bears.  Camp Tawonga is located right outside of Yosemite (remember this post).  But the thought of bears wasn't on the forefront of our minds as we snuggled into our respective sleeping bags.  Instead we chatted and watched the stars come out as it grew darker.  

And then, mid-sentence, we heard a rustle.  It was quiet, but sounded like it was made by a laaarge animal.  "Was that a bear?!"  "Shhhhhhhhh, let me listen."  And then we lay there very still, straining our ears to hear what was coming to get us in the dark.  It was coming closer and was definitely made by a heavy animal.  I tried to force my eyes to see through the dark, but it just wasn't happening.  

Just as the tension was building we heard a very different noise that completely broke the tension.  It was the tinkling sound of a... cow bell!  So, the "bear" that was coming to get us was only a wondering cow.  Phewww.  

Miles

Moving 200+ miles away from your boyfriend will definitely help you put lots and lots of miles on your car.  On long weekends I would count down the hours until I would make my escape from Westwood to get directly trapped on the 405 north with all the other millions trying to get out of Los Angeles as well.  On good days the traffic broke when I hit the 101, on bad days it only got worse when I hit the 101.  Doing the drive was like a long swim or even a run.  I would start of energized, excited, thrilled to be on my way.  And then those feelings ebbed as I would settle into the drive.  I'd get in that zone, the one that scares me now to think about it, the zone where I just drive and the things I pass don't really register in my consciousness.  I perk up a bit when I hit Santa Barbara, the halfway point.  And then, it would feel like I was "soooo close" for the rest of the drive and yet I still had a ways to go.  Finally, the last couple miles the excitement would return again and I would forget that I was tired.  A big hug was always waiting for me on the other side the door making the long drive worth all the while.  

To pass time on the drive I would chat on the phone with Lukas (this was before the cell phone law).  The miles I put on my car have added up with all my trekking up and down the coast.  I was heading back to L.A. when my odometer was nearing 100,000 miles.  Jokingly I feigned fear of hitting this "mile stone" to Lukas over the phone.  "I'm afraid my car's just going to quit when I reach 100,000.  It'll just stop in the road, my wheels will fall off, and that will be it."  Maybe I had jinxed myself.  

North of Santa Barbara I noticed my car was pulling to the right.  At first I didn't think much of it.  My car had been pulling to the right for a little while, not horribly, but it wasn't quite going straight.  But as I continued on my way I was noticing more and more that this was pulling more than just a tiny bit off.  I was having to keep my steering wheel turned about 20 degrees just to keep the car going straight.  At the Gaviota rest stop I pulled over to use the bathroom and then got back in the car without checking it out.  It was dark and I didn't want to linger.  But, the pulling was as bad as ever when I was back on the highway.  I immediately pulled over at the next exit - an unlit over-look.  I was kicking myself for not checking my car out at the rest stop where at least there were lights and semi-visibility from the highway.  Now I was at a dark over-look that was blocked by a little hill from the highway at about 10:30 at night.  

I got out and checked my car.  The right front tire was flat, really really flat.  Back in the car I called AAA.  It took about 5 minutes to explain to the call operator exactly where I was.  After that I kept Lukas on the phone while I waiting for the tow-truck.  I didn't have to wait long and the tow-truck guy was quick and helpful.  With the donut tire on my car I was told not to go over 50 mph.  I started off slowly and heard a weird noise and quickly pulled over on the side of the road.  I was starting to call Lukas to ask what he thought I should do when the tow-truck guy pulled up behind me.  I hung up the call as he was walking to my car and rolled down my window.  "Something wrong?" he asked.  I told him about the sound and he checked out the tired, giving it a couple kicks.  "Looks good to me, but you did the right thing.  Just take it easy and pull over again if you hear the noise again."  Gingerly, I pulled back on the road and kept it well under 50mph while he followed behind me.  I felt reassured that he was back behind me.  I didn't hear the sound again and after a few miles of the sloooow driving the tow-truck guy took off.  

Since I had to keep it under 50mph I had the "genius" idea of putting it on cruise control.  Moments after turning on the cruise control my car had a fit.  All the gages on the dashboard stopped working, the lights came on and off inside.  I pulled off at the next exit and into a patch of dirt on a dark road next to some field.  I'd only had my hood up a minute or so when I sheriff's car pulled in along side me.  The young sheriff couldn't have been any older than me and it became evident quickly that he didn't have much more knowledge than me about how cars work.  On his suggestion, we checked the oil but that was fine and I really didn't think it was that.  Certainly seemed more electrical than "oil", but what do I know?  What scared me was now that my gages weren't working how was I going to tell if I went over 50mph?  And if I went over 50mph I could blow up my little spare tire.  "Sorry I couldn't be of more help," the sheriff apologized.  When I asked if he thought there was a mechanic open he replied, "There's not much in Carp."  Carp?!  Where the heck was I?  Looking bewildered I asked, "Where are we?"  He chuckled at me a little and said, "Carpenteria."  Oh.

So with my options being finding a motel with an open front desk to get a room for the night or giving the drive another shot I decided to keep trying to get to L.A..  My car still drove and if I was careful I'd keep it under 50mph.  Worried as I was that wasn't going to be a problem.  Several miles down the road my gauges came back and I could monitor my speed again.  It was a tense ride the rest of the way, but I made it.  So, did I jinx myself?  Somewhere before the flat tire my car turned over 100,000 miles and then things started to go down hill.  So maybe I did.

Laughter

Children will laugh at the simplest things.  Something little will just set them off - a silly noise, a crinkle of your nose, a wiggle of your fingers.  Once set off it becomes easier and easier to bring the giggles to the surface.  Even the most determined adult will eventually brake into a smile and maybe even a little laugh too as their actions continue to bring hysterics to the little faces.  Somehow those little things that weren't funny at all to begin with are hilarious and you just can't stop laughing either.  

Here's a little bit on how laughter is good for you...

1.) Increase your antibody producing cells -> strong immune system -> help to fight infection

2.) Emotional release

3.) Connecting with other people -> build stronger relationships

4.) Better blood flow

5.) Relaxation 

{my sources: about.com & webMD}

Kindergarten

Memories from kindergarten are fuzzy and hard to pin down.  Like when David and Latecia got "married".  We had mud pie and I am almost certain the "ceremony" took place beneath the metal climbing structure.  What I can remember is feeling so excited about this.  I guess it's the feeling of things that sticks with you.  But, making myself think about on kindergarten I'm realizing other things of my personality that I had even back than.

Each week we had workbooks that we had time to work on with the teacher's helper.  Mostly, I remember them being about the numbers and learning to count.  The page I can remember the clearest from these workbooks was the one where we glued down toothpicks to form a shape with as many sides as the number for that week.  I took pride in lining up the tips, making it very neat.  If I was to look back at those pages now I'm sure they show the signs of kindergartner work - excess glue, crocked lines.  What has carried over from then to now is my enjoyment of the way things line up.  I like the neat look of lines of text on a page, margins straight.  I like my class notes to be clean and orderly, priding myself in their neatness.  Maybe this is just one of the "weird" things that makes me me.  It's just interesting to realize that even when I was 5 I was already becoming who I am today.  

Journey

Slightly sleep-dazed and nervous, but very excited I stepped off the plane and walked into the terminal.  I walked straight into a different world.  For the first time in my life I was uniquely aware of the paleness of my skin.  And yet I seemed to go unnoticed by those around me.  As if I was beginning to sink in quick sand of feeling lost I grabbed at the one thing I knew I must do upon landing - change a little money.  I can't remember now how much it was I exchanged, but I know it couldn't have been more than $40 USD.  The expressionless woman behind took my bills and began to make stacks of money in front of me.  Immediately the warnings of hiding all my valuables flashed in my head.  Where was I going to hide all this money without anyone seeing?!  But to my luck, I was still going as unnoticed as before.  

The next two days were spent journeying to Akatsi, with short lessons in culture and customs as we went.  We arrived at the compound that would be home for the next three weeks.  It was composed of three rooms extending back from the kitchen room, all whitewashed with rough cement floors.  Bunkbeds draped with mosquito netting gave them the appearance of floating.  We had the fortune of electricity in the rooms and a fan to cool us on the warm nights.  The toilet facility was not quite so plush.  A tank filled with water rested high above the shower stall providing good water pressure and icy water.  The "toilet" lacked a seat, but was as close to resembling a "real" toilet as 1/2" plywood can.  The non-existent light made trips to the bathroom in the middle of the night, ummm, interesting.  

From this home in the mornings I had the luxury of a chauffeured ride to the school where I taught.  My ride was in a bare bones, blue and yellow taxi-cab.  It bounced along the red dirt paths that with a strong stretch of the imagination passed as roads.  We drove through a maze of little buildings, past open trenches of sewage along side the road and out to the edge of town.  

That first day of teaching sticks out plainly in my memories.  We were introduced to the principal of the school first, a large smiling but stern lady.  The plan was to rotate through several classrooms that day and the next we would be assigned a room to work in.  The first classroom I sat in the teacher was a strict disciplinarian.  He kept the children in line with a stitch made of a long skinny stick.  In minutes of sitting down in the class room I began hoping I wouldn't be placed in this room.  There was no way I was going to be able to abide by these teaching tactics and I found myself a bit intimated just like the students.  I was rescue though, by the young teacher in the next classroom I went to.  His misunderstanding of the plan for me to observe for the day became my opportunity.  Instead of furnishing a chair for me to sit on when I walked into the room he handed me a short piece of chalk, smiled shyly and said, "Teach".  While English is the national language of Ghana the children begin speaking the regional dialects and level of English comprehension varies in the adult population.  I wasn't sure if it was my place to correct the teacher's mistake, so I took the chalk and asked, "Math ok?"  He smiled and nodded.  Before I classroom of 30 eager faces I began by writing the numbers on the board.  And when it was clear these first graders knew their numbers I quickly moved on to addition.  I wrote equations on the blackboard that they copied to their little slates and moved among them as they worked out the answers.  Interruptions came in the form of chickens wandering into the open aired classroom.  At lunch time each child pulled their lunch out from their desk.  Most had variations on the theme of rice with spicy red sauce.  The fortunate kids had meat in their lunches and a few had little biscuits.  Some days there would be a child sitting quietly chewing the insides of their checks watching the other children eat.  Quietly, the teacher would give them a coin to buy a package of biscuits.  I know, even in the US, parents can forget to send a lunch to school with their kid.  I hoped that it was just a lapse in memory and not underlying poverty that sent these children to school without lunch.  

But, there was no getting around the high level of poverty in this part of the world.  This was worlds away from the comforts I had known growing up.  The people lacked so many of the things I took daily for granted.  And yet, they simply went about their lives.  They didn't rush around and were some of the friendliest people I've ever met.  I didn't get culture shock when I went to Ghana that summer after my junior year of high school.  Everyone had warned me that I might, but even though the poverty surprised me I wasn't in shock of the way these people were living.  What shook me more was returning to California in seeing how much we took for granted.   The people I met in Ghana had so little but were happy and back in California I saw people with so much that were very unhappy.  

A journey is to travel far.  It took traveling halfway around the world for me to travel away from everything I had known.  And it took coming back to discover how fortunate I am.  

Imagine

When it came to picking an "I" word the first and best one that came to mind was imagine.  And then with glow sticks, Lukas and I had a blast making this image.  And now days later, I still cannot come up with a post to go with imagine.  I wonder what would pop into someone's head upon hearing "imagine" prior to 1971.  But now, all I can think about when I hear imagine, or even think the word is Lennon's song.  I've tried getting past this, thinking creatively but the inspiration just doesn't seem to come.  Oh! Inspiration, there's another great "I" word.  So in my inability to "imagine" a post for "I", I will leave you with the words to Imagine.  

Imagine there's no Heaven

It's easy if you try

No hell below us

Above us only sky

Imagine all the people

Living for today

Imagine there's no countries 

It isn't hard to do 

Nothing to kill or die for 

And no religion too 

Imagine all the people 

Living life in peace 

You may say that I'm a dreamer 

But I'm not the only one 

I hope someday you'll join us 

And the world will be as one 

Imagine no possessions 

I wonder if you can 

No need for greed or hunger 

A brotherhood of man 

Imagine all the people 

Sharing all the world 

You may say that I'm a dreamer 

But I'm not the only one 

I hope someday you'll join us 

And the world will live as one 

{Happy New Year!  Let's Imagine!!}