Society of Stampaholics

The Cracked Pot

I received an email with a cool story a number of years ago and I always meant to share it here but I misplaced it on my computer. I don't know who authored it, and it's probably been around the globe a hundred times, but it was new to me, and I like its message. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

The Cracked Pot

An elderly Chinese woman had two large pots, each hanging on either end of a pole she carried across her neck. One of the pots had a crack in it while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water. At the end of the long walk from the stream to the house, the cracked pot arrived only half full. 

For a full two years this went on daily, with the woman bringing home only one and a half pots of water. Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection, and miserable that it could only do half of what it had been made to do. After bitterly perceiving itself to be a failure, it spoke to the woman one day as she was filling the pots with water at the stream.

“I am ashamed of myself, because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your house.” 

The old woman smiled. “Did you notice that there are flowers on your side of the path, but not on the other pot's side?"

She continued, "That's because I have always known about your flaw, so I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back, you water them. For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate the table. Without you being just the way you are, there would not be this beauty to grace the house.” 

Each of us has our own unique flaw. But it's the cracks and flaws we each have that make our lives together so very interesting and rewarding. You've just got to take each person for what they are and look for the good in them.

And it works even better if you can find something inside of you that will bring out the best in them.

I like the author's comment at the end, but I took this story as a personal reminder to examine my own flaws - the ones that embitter me - and try to see if there's a way to use them positively.

So, to all of my crackpot friends, have a great day and remember to smell the flowers on your side of the path!

Lily Pad Cards Button Challenge

We have a great button challenge at Lily Pad Cards starting today! You can use real buttons, felt buttons, chipboard buttons, anything with holes or a shank, and you're in a business.

We have some cards by the Design Team for inspiration and we'll have more cards in two weeks as an added boost.

If your card wins, you'll receive a $25 gift certificate from Simon Says Stamp (my favorite online store)!

Since my cards aren't scheduled then, I went strolling down through memory lane for some cards I made in the past, and here are a few of my personal favorites:  

This one is actually a Christmas tree ornament (it's attached to a clothespin).

So grab your buttons and go make a card!!!

Thanks for looking and have a blessed day....

 

 

 

My Fabulous Weekend

I had a great weekend. (I know it was great because I'm still recovering!)

I was invited to a paper crafting retreat hosted by Jennifer McGuire and Jana Millen in Cincinnati - which is about a two-hour drive from here. The other ladies were Kathy Racoosin, Heidi Crowl,  Kate Farricker, two mother-daughter teams, (Candy and Christy Wilkerson and Sarah Moerman and her mother, Margaret) Joy Ott, Heather Ruwe, Britta Swiderski, Stephanie Klauck, Sandi Neumann, Julie Strickland, and Tina Schrof.

Oh. My. Word.

What talent. What conversations. What fun.

Not only did I get to see some fabulous art being created right before my eyes, but every conversation was interesting because it was all about papercrafting - products, industry updates, who was doing what and when and where. Nirvana!

I filled up my whole car with tools and product - as did everybody else who was within driving distance, so we had more stuff than you could shake a stick at. It was comical, as I didn't use half of what I brought and every stamp in my collection was represented multiple times - LOL!

Heidi and Kate, our retail store owners, spoiled us all rotten by bringing us a ton of free goodies. I mean, it was just ridiculous how generous they were! 

Our hotel was lovely despite a somewhat incompetant night staff. Among other things, there were a lot of room key issues, but the best story involved the manager resorting to pressing the handicapped emergency button outside the door. I had never heard of this button but it activates (inside the room) a very loud, blaring alarm and bright flashing lights.

(Did I mention that it was about 2:00 a.m. and two of the roommates were blissfully sleeping when a recreation of the London Blitz jolted them to consciousness?)

Good times....

There was a Graeter's Ice Cream shop about 100 yards from our hotel. This stuff truly is the most amazing ice cream I've ever eaten. When I was leaving, I saw a sign in their window about dry ice and taking some home to the family (since they are local only). Turns out, dry ice is only $2, so I bought some Buckeye Blitz and Raspberry Chocolate Chip to take home to Spouse and Gigi. When she wasn't squealing over the taste sensation, Gigi was jumping up and down over the dry ice. We placed it in the sink where it smoked for about an hour - very impressive stuff to a 9-year-old.

I am now the most popular person in the house AND we know how we want to decorate our trunk for this year's Trunk'r'Treat at school.

Here's a picture of our happy group:

Front row: Britta, Jennifer, Julie, Sandi

Middle row: Christy, Kate, Stephanie, Kathy, (lying down) Sarah, Heather

Back row: Heidi, Candy, Jana, Joy, Deborah, Tina, Margaret

I had such a fantastic time, and I thank everyone for her role in the festivities: Jana and Jennifer ("Jannifer" as we dubbed them) for their fantastic organization and hospitality; Kate and Heidi for their generous gifts; my roommates Sarah and Margaret for being so fantastic; and everyone else for just being a load of fun!

Ladies, you're the best!

Yes, I AM the Village Idiot!

I would really like to blame lingering morphine, but I honestly don't think this is the case.

Take today's challenge at Lily Pad.

As we all know, I've spent the better part of my week in the hospital, so I had some major catching up to do. First on my agenda was today's challenge sponsored by Memory Box. So I went up there last night and created two cards and felt very pleased with myself.

I went to bed feeling like I'd forgotten to do something, though.

Then, this morning, after spending three hours upstairs, working on assembling materials for my next class in Evansville, I came be-bopping down the stairs and sat down at my computer and checked on ye ol' Lily Pad and was totally flabberghasted that my cards weren't there! What had become of them?! I had stayed up late to finish them! Where were they?!

And then it dawned on me that my cards weren't there because I had never photographed them, or, of course, uploaded the (nonexistant) photos.

So I took the photos, did the apropriate cropping and lighting fixes in Photoshop, uploaded them and then....

I realized that this is a SKETCH challenge.

Yep.

Did I follow the sketch?

No.

Did I at least get lucky and accidentally produce something that one might think was following the sketch?

No.

Should I be allowed to operate a paper cutter with such an addled brain?

Probably not.

I may just have to go back to bed... oh, the humanity!

Free at Last!

Today when Lauren the Loudmouth attempted to terrorize me, I was the victor!

Yes, she shrieked full blast, but I was unperturbed because I had my earplugs in!!! I grinned at her the whole time - much like the Village Idiot - which I think unnerved her. She's clearly used to cringing, startled patients.

My early morning victory was but a sign of good things to come.

At 11:30 a.m. I was officially pronounced a False Alarm and sent along my merry way. And I almost made it out the door but some enterprising nurse recognized me and made me sit down and wait for a wheelchair because, dead or alive, you have to exit on wheels.

This is A Rule.

And now I am at home, still a little weak and fuzzy, but completely clear of any IV-drips.

And I'm looking at everything I need to do and at the collossol mess my roommates created in less than 72 hours, and I'm thinking the hospital wasn't such a bad place to be, after all....

More Hospital Fun

So it looks like I'm fine.

But they want me to stay, anyway.

Loudmouthed Lauren, again, informed me of this in her own special way. Having been giving draughts of morphine through the night, her slapping the light on and shrieking was especially unpleasant. Although, I have to admit, morphine does have a tendency to make one NOT jump right out of their skin. It's more like you would jump out of your skin if you could find it.

Still, it took ten minutes for my heart to stop pounding.

Frankly, I think Lauren needs to work on her bedside manner. Putting the patient into cardiac arrest is frowned upon in the better hospitals, after all.

I tried to find out why I had to stay, but that Rotten Lauren said the doctor would explain it all to me later. Which was an out-and-out story. He never showed up. Some other guy did - and he didn't have a clue.

At least now I get to drink something. I've spent the last 24 hours without water, etc - just an IV drip (in case I might need surgery). I have been sipping water and annoying the nurses by escorting myself to the potty without the benefit of their help. After the first trip with a nurse, I paid attention so I could relieve myself without having to wait for her to show up next time.

It's a very complex procedure, you know.

You unplug the IV machine and toss the cord over the hooks along the top. Then you walk to the bathroom while wheeling the machine beside you.

Yessiree, very tricky stuff.

I went for a walk and did three laps around The Ninth Tower, expertly steering my IV unit around wheelchairs and pedestrians. I was going to attempt a square dance move with it, but that would have been showing off and might have created some form of resentment.  (Never, ever cheese-off people who routinely stick needles in your arm.)

I've spent the rest of my time dozing, running a mild temperature, reading Michener's Chesepeake, (not one of his better efforts) and watching That '70's Show via Netflix on my laptop. I LOVE WI-FI!!! I tried to answer some emails, but I opened my inbox, saw about a million emails, and promtply lost the will to live.

Or at least to stay awake. More napping.

Dinner was broth injected with half a jar of celery salt. 

LOTS more water.

I woke up at 2:00 a.m. and stuck earplugs in my ears because the stupid C-PAP machine was whistling like it was about to collapse. I didn't realize it at the time, but this was to prove to be most beneficial on the morrow....

Back to the Hospital

On June 3, I entered the hospital for surgery and checked out 24 hours later because hospitals have taken to emulating the fast food industry. (I suspect their ultimate goal is to remove a spleen in the same amount of time it takes to prepare a cheeseburger.) 

So I went home and all was well....

Until I awoke in great distress about 2:30 a.m. this morning with a suspected complication. It was too suspicious to ignore, so I had to go to the ER. And they kept me there all night. And this morning they decided to admit me.

Great.

The world's loudest Physician's Assistant (Lauren the Loudmouth) woke me up by hitting the lights and shrieking, GOOD MORNING, MRS. NOLAN. DR. SO-AND-SO HAS DECIDED TO ADMIT YOU FOR SOME TESTS AND XRAYS AND A CAT SCAN AND AN UPPER GI SO THEY CAN SEE WHAT'S GOING ON IN THERE. DO YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS? NO? OKAY, THEN. SOMEONE WILL BE WHEELING YOU UP TO THE NINTH TOWER IN A MINUTE. AND DON'T EAT OR DRINK ANYTHING.

I'm not sure what was more terrifying. The blind panic that spread through me as I was jolted from sleep to discover myself alone in a strange place being screamed at by a Nazi Wannabe, or the news that I was to be taken to The Ninth Tower. (I don't know about you, but I find The Ninth Tower somewhat sinister sounding. It makes me think of Richard the Third, and the two little princes, and other medieval jollies.)

Bring on the leeches! Let the blood-letting begin!

Sigh.

I wish I could have a drink of water....