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It’s been a few years since I was able to spend father’s day with my dad, but I like to take a part of this day to be thankful for him just the same. It’s a sad day, but it’s a happy occasion to look back and remember how much I was loved.

So happy Father’s Day to all the dads out there, and all the kids (big or small) who were fortunate enough to have a great dad in the first place.  This is a happy day indeed.

When I was a kid my mother used to tell me that it was silly to be afraid of anything with a face. It’s the faceless stuff you have to worry about. As a kid, that notion was a comfort — as adult, it’s a frightening prospect. Indeed, it is the things that come without a face that frighten us most. And for good reason…

I had a tutorial scheduled for today but in light of what is going on in Boston right now I think I’ll give it a rest. In the meantime, if anyone needs a quick fix to restore your faith in humanity, I suggest you check out the archives of my second blog I Believe in Strangers, which was created specifically in hopes of providing some comfort on days like today. And, even though it’s been on hiatus in recent weeks, you can troll the archives anytime you need to remember what is good and right and full of light. For me, when I feel most afraid of the faceless stuff, I take great comfort from my faith in faceless strangers. If given the time and opportunity we are all magnificent creatures.   

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…and more advice from my mother.

I’m back from vacation, huzzah! It was a glorious, fun, family filled romp through Mississippi with a brief stop in New Orleans (see Jackson Square below). It was sunshine and warm weather aplenty. On the rare occasions the sun went away the fried food came out. Somewhere inbetween azalea bushes and shrimp po boys, I picked up an alligator head and some dirty cheap turquoise jewelry. Get excited, people!

I’ll show some more pictures next week, but in the meantime I am planning to be at home this weekend, catching up on life and laundry. I don’t know about you, but I always try to time vacations at the end of a busy season. The upside is that when things are most hectic, I have something to look forward to. The downside is that when I come back from vacation, all the other things I have been pushing off for six weeks will get condensed into one blitz-busting weekend. Taxes – Hayo!

We’ll see how far I get…

Happy weekend! 

Saint Patrick’s Day is one of hundreds of saints days but it’s one of the very few observed outside the Catholic faith. To some, this day is devoted to the man who brought Catholicism to Ireland. To others, it’s a day to wear Irish sweaters and get sloppy drunk off green beer. To me, it’s a holiday entrenched in symbolism and mythology – two of my favorite subjects.

As someone with part Irish heritage, who is pathologically superstitious, and has a college degree in pictorial semiotics, Saint Patrick’s day is like my second birthday. But better. And spookier. But with less cake. And more snakes.

I don’t think it’s any secret that Irish folks are gifted storytellers – pair that gift with the passing of generations, a flair for embellishment, and an Old Country waft of nostalgia, it makes for some interesting tales of origin. It would be easy to write a book on all the crazy stuff Irish people have stuffed into their immigrant-come-lately folklore, but for the sake of brevity and festiveness, let’s keep it to the surface level, shall we?

Let’s go on a quick-n-dirty adventure through Saint Patrick’s day symbolism.

Shamrock
The legend: Saint Patrick, an Irish slave (although now historians think he was Scottish), escaped from imprisonment in France in the 4th centuryish and returned to Ireland and converted the masses by using a three leaf shamrock to explain the holy trinity. As it goes, as shamrocks grow everywhere in Ireland, so does faith – in the fields, in the earth, in the crack in the sidewalk. God is everywhere, the shamrock reminds us. Unfortunately, historians have never been able to link any mention of the shamrock to Patrick’s own writings, or to anyone who wrote of his work at the time. The first written account of any affiliation between Saint Patrick and shamrocks came in the 1600’s, a thousand years after his death. Still, it makes for a nice story.

Wearing Green
Oddly enough, blue is the national national color of Ireland. Blue is also the color most strongly associated with Saint Patrick (the man — not the holiday), but green is, and always has been, what comes to mind when people think of Ireland. The land. The sky. The sea. Green. Green. Green. If it’s Irish and it doesn’t have armpits—it’s green. After all, it’s the Emerald Isle for a reason. After massive waves of immigration in the 1800’s, Irish immigrants all over the world wore green as a point of pride and self-identification. Sort of like a gang without the meth or neck tattoos. Today, people wear green all the time, so when it comes to March 17th, the green goes big or goes home. Here in Chicago they dye the whole river green. Yes, for real. Know what color dye they put in to make it green? Orange. Weird, right? The tradition started in the 1960’s – some  city worked were trying to track pollution sources and used vegetable dye to trace illegal sewage discharges. Nowadays it’s a big procession and thousands of folks line up all over the river’s edge to watch a speedboat spew out the dye. It’s quite a sight!

Snakes
As in, Saint Patrick banished the snakes from Ireland (or he killed them, or drove them out, or turned them to stone – depending on who you ask). Saint Patrick, in his fervent quest to spread his faith, may have done some not nice stuff to those who refused to convert.  The “banishing of the snakes” was really a metaphor for the eradication of Celtic/Pagan ideology from Ireland and the triumph of Vatican style Christianity. Pagans and non-believers were either killed or forced to leave the country – their language, their traditions, their ancient ways leaving with them or burned/destroyed/forbidden. When you hear someone say Saint Patrick turned the snakes to stone, it is because Celtic stone carvings with their interweaving snake motifs, are one of the few pieces of evidence left behind. Just to be fair and contrary, it’s worth mentioning that most historians downplay the fall of Paganism in Ireland, and even then, give very little of the credit to Saint Patrick. Also, recent academics have also gone so far as to painting Saint Patrick as a tax collecting, slave trading jerk. So that’s fun.

Ugh, am I disappointing you with nit picking apart all your favorite stories? Sorry y’all. This is a good book if you are into this stuff.

Four Leaf Clover
Pre-dating Christianity, Druids (Celtic priests) elevated plants with four leaves to the status of sacred charms, allegedly potent against malevolent spirits. Today, in every meadow of shamrocks there is at least one four leaf clover hiding in the crowd and some consider this a symbol of those who manage to maintain belief in both the new and old ways – the essential trinity and a little something extra. According to some (probably the folks at Hallmark), each leaf represents something: the first is for faith, the second is for hope, the third is for love, and the fourth is for luck.

Corned Beef and Cabbage
Cabbage is a long-time staple in Irish food, while corned beef is not. In fact, according to a woman I know who was born and raised in Dublin, most people in Ireland think corned beef is pretty gross. Can you blame them? This tradition was started by Irish immigrants living on the lower East side of New York who could not afford traditional Irish bacon, so they learned about the cheaper beef alternative from their Jewish neighbors. Mazel!

Tangent: Like most of Ireland, I think corned beef is pretty gross, however, when it’s sliced deli thin and fried to crisp in a pan, it’s delicious. And it takes just like bacon. But less fatty. And better for you. This trick also works with certain kinds of roast beef. I’m serious – try it sometime on toast with lettuce and mayo. Tasty!

Leprechauns
The leprechaun is an impish male faerie who lives in remote places cobbling shoes for other mystical creatures. Because hey, goblins and unicorns need shoes too. Some people regard leprechauns as happy creatures, roughly 2’ tall, with red hair and a pipe, while others think of them as meddlesome and mean-spirited drunks, and nothing at all like the guy on the cover of a box of lucky charms. Speaking of lucky charms…

Horseshoes
This one is a mixed message. The tradition of hanging lucky horseshoes above doorways is a method of warding off faeries, who are said to hate iron. Leprechauns in particular. Supposedly, when you display a horseshoe you are saying, “Scram, Shorty, we don’t need your dirty shoes here.”

Rainbow
The rainbow’s symbol of hope and survival goes back to the Old Testament. After the flood and the deliverance of Noah and his family, God showed Noah the rainbow in the clouds as a sign of his covenant with mankind that he will never again bring a deluge to destroy them (Genesis 9:8-17). Oddly enough, in some far eastern cultures, rainbows are seen as bad luck because that is the time that snakes are most likely to be seen. Yes, in general, snakes and snails and worms always rise to the Earth’s surface immediately following extensive rain fall. No symbolism here, this is just something they teach you at camp.

Pot of Gold
It is said that if you can find where the rainbow comes down and meets the earth, you will find a big pot of gold and be the richest person in the world. If you have ever tried to chase a rainbow, you know how likely this is to happen. My unfounded hypothesis for this is that is comes not from any ancient folklore, but just generations of people living in poverty and dreaming that a better life would magically appear. Ireland is a prosperous country today but for hundreds of years that was not that case; lack of opportunity, religious oppression, wide-spread famine, blah, blah, O’Blah. Look, I won’t go all Angela’s Ashes all over you, but sufficient to say, there is a reason why I, and so many of my fellow American’s, can trace our heritage to a man or woman in Ireland who got up the balls to leave.

Nowadays I hear of friends moving to foreign countries and think how it must be traumatic for them – to give up life as they know it and move to a foreign place where they do not speak the language. Then I think of my relatives, many of them, more than 100 years ago, saving their pennies for years to cover a month-long passage in the hull of a ship, only to land in a country where they may or may not have known a soul, where they may or may not have spoken the language, where they may or may not have the tools to survive. No telephones. No Skype. No time for homesickness. Probably making barely enough money to cover food, much less the postage stamps needed to send a letter home.  Some days when I feel exhausted, I think of the dozen great-great-great-something grandparents I can claim who came to this country as immigrants. I think how brave it was for them to risk so much in coming here. I think how hard they worked, not just for themselves, but for their kids, and their kids…and for me. And you. And all of us.  I think of how much I owe them for the sacrifices they made. Then I get my butt back to work at finding that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Not for me, for them. This day is for them.

Saint Patrick’s Day isn’t just a holiday for those who are Irish, it’s a day for immigrants. For family. For all the nameless and faceless people who came before you and worked their butt off so that your worst days could be better than their best. This day is for them. 

Happy Saint Patrick’s Day.

PS: Speaking of relatives…I am cutting out early this weekend to head south to be with my peeps in Mississippi. Saint Patrick’s Day in the south is something to see! There will be much parading, fellowshipping, tater totting, live musicing, pollen counting, Mardi Gras Indian dancing, and maybe a bag or two of Krystal’s hamburgers. It’s basically Eudora Welty meets Weekend at Bernie’s. I’ll be back later next week, but in the meantime, you can follow the fun on twitter.

One of the best parts of running a blog is getting emails from readers each week. These emails, these snippets of life from strangers, neighbors, women and men, all ages, all backgrounds; all of them touching me with their thoughts, many of them asking questions as though I would know something they don’t.   

Well color me fancy pants.

Most of the questions are related to specific posts or craft projects, but by far, the question I get most often goes something like this;

Can you give me career advice? I’m 20 something and hate my current job/prospects/living situation. I’m lost. I need direction. What should I do with my life?

As flattered as I am, questions like this are an odd request because 1. I rarely talk about my work on the blog, so why would anyone reading this think I have a leg up? And 2. Despite the popular misconception that I am some sort of spangled grandmother, I’m actually 33. Now, I understand that to a 22-year-old, 33 is next to Mesozoic, but in reality, I am still in on the learning curve myself. Given that, and in light of the fact that I have had 18 jobs in the last 15 years, clearly, I have no business giving advice on this matter.

So, one night last week, I sat down and wrote down the things I wish someone would have told me back then. And then I went and asked some Facebook friends to chime in the best career advice anyone ever gave them (some quotes pulled below, link at the end).  I’m hoping that between me, them, you, and What Color is Your Parachute, there is hope for us all!

1. It gets better
Scientific Fact: Most of the interesting people over 40 will tell you they hated their jobs in their twenties. This is living proof that the concept of ‘light at the end of the tunnel’ is not only possible, it is probable.

2. Comparing yourself to others is toxic and stupid.
The vast majority of the people who find thriving careers in their early twenties burn out by age thirty (sorry overachievers!) These folks either quit their respective industry or become stay at home parents – both of which are admirable decisions – but if you are 27 and feeling dumpy because your friends have more focus/accolades/bar money, chill out and be thankful it hasn’t hit you yet. As long as you work hard and can put a roof over your head, you are doing it right. The rest will happen in time. Good things are worth the wait.

3. Just admit it, your Mom had a point.
Your parents have probably already given you some good advice. Don’t ignore it just because they are your parents. There was a time when these people took your temperature in your butt hole, so don’t act like they don’t know what’s up.


4. Learn the meaning of exhaustion as early as possible.
Regardless of your career path, plan on working at least two jobs for a couple of years. Maybe it’s two part-time jobs, maybe it’s a full-time teaching job with a bar tending gig on the weekends, whatever. Even if you don’t need the money, plan on two jobs totaling at least 60 hours a week (minimum) outside the home. It’s good for you. It disciplines you. It humbles you. It will teach you to be efficient with your time. It will toughen you up for The 18 Year Goat Rodeo otherwise known as parenthood.  You won’t know how to appreciate the luxury of one job until you have tried to juggle two (or more).

5. The first job you get out of college will not determine the rest of your life.
Choices are important but they are not prisons. Don’t freak out if you are nearing graduation and don’t have all your ducks in a row. If you have have a specific goal, awesome. If not, well, this is your chance to sample the smorgasbord. Get busy!

“You can and will have many careers through your lifetime. Don’t feel like whatever career path you take will be the only one. It takes a lot of pressure off you when you know there are many avenues ahead.”  —Jonathan

Personal anecdote: at the end of college I chose a career path that I thought would bring me the most money in the shortest period of time: I worked in finance. Agricultural commodities to be specific. (I know, right? They let cat ladies in business!) To this day I hold a series 3 and series 7, which is pretty much a fancy way of saying I am licensed to count beans and trade corn options by wiggling my elbow. Impressive, no? Actually, it was awful. And I was bad at it. And I burned out just in time to make some headway on my student loans and realize that I never, ever, ever, wanted another job that would make me feel bad about myself. I didn’t care how much or little I made, I decided that as long as I could find a job to pay the rent and didn’t have to wake up at dawn with a pit in my stomach, I would find a way to be happy about it. Ten years later, I can say that was easily the best decision I ever made. That is my story. My testament. I’ll bet you know a hundred people with similar stories to tell, you just don’t know it yet.

TANGENT: Don’t even think about avoiding the work force by going straight to grad school.

They call it getting your Masters because you are supposed to master the subject. How the Hell do you think you are going to master something if you don’t have relevant, first-hand experience in that field? Okay, I get it. These days a lot of people get their masters before entering the work force because they think they will start out at a higher salary. Know what would be better? GET A RELEVANT JOB to list on your grad school application, then get into a better grad school, then graduate from a better school with a better resume (Dolla Dolla Bills Y’all). And don’t give me some horsecrap about the lack of entry level jobs in your area of interest. Get an internship. Get a temp position. Want to be a doctor? Temp in a hospital billing department. Want to be a lawyer? Apply as the receptionist at a law firm. Or volunteer at a legal clinic. Or your local court horse. Hell, I don’t care if you go an work for a bail bondsman, just figure out how the system works before you go and spend five figures of tuition money* only to realize “Gee, these doctors seem miserable. Why don’t look they like this on Gray’s Anatomy?”

*TANGENT ON A TANGENT: Yes, you will be paying for your own tuition. Any parents reading this who are considering paying for grad school? Don’t even think about it. You have already done more than enough.  If you are in a financial position to do so, good for you, but I’m going to guess you got that way by knowing a thing or two about finances. With that in mind, let’s do some math; Sit down with your adult son or daughter and calculate the cost per class divided by hours in the classroom.  For example purposes, I pulled some numbers from grad school classes at the largest state university in my area: Cost per semester $2,106 per class, divided by 39.5 hours (15 weeks of 2.5 hour classes + 2 hours estimated one-on-one individual instruction) = $53.32 an hour. Think about that. If your adult son or daughter understands they are paying $53.32 an hour to learn, don’t you think they might pay attention in class a little a little more? Don’t you think they might come away with not only a higher GPA, but just a better grasp of the subject they are trying to master?  And with that, a better likelihood of landing the job of their choosing? Sure, you might have the cash and could save them from paying interest on student loans, but don’t you think their long-term prospects would improve if they had a better starting position post graduation? Okay, okay, stepping off my soap box now…   

6. Think like a rich person.
Whatever they are paying you, put that number in your head and cut it in half. That number, that half number, THAT is what you are getting paid. The rest is for taxes and savings. Just pretend you never saw that other half in the first place.

7. Dress for the job you want, not for the job you have.
Nobody gives a crap if those hipster hogwashers looked cute on that episode of Girls last week. You can do better. Furthermore, people will treat you better if you dress nicely. It doesn’t need to look fashionable or expensive, it needs to look considerate. Bad news: You are probably going to need to invest in an iron at some point.

“Just because it’s not “your job” doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it and impress everyone’s pants off!” —Stephanie.

8. All of those people who say “Do what you love! Love what you do!” – Ignore them.
Do what it takes to get it done. “Be happy and the money will follow!” is the sort of thing people from duel-income households say when they have the luxury of choice. If you are reading this, you probably don’t have that luxury. At least not yet. So here is what you need to know: Recognize that cultivating your passion and cultivating a method to make money off your passion are two different things. Did you hear that one? Read that underlined part again if that didn’t sink in all the way. If you are flat out of ideas on how to make money off your passion*, find another job until you figure it out. There are 24 hours in a day — spending 6 of them working retail isn’t going to kill your dream of becoming a professional bouzouki player. I know, I know, I know…MONEY CAN’T BUY YOU HAPPINESS… this is very true.  Money isn’t everything, but money is what will keep you in a place to pursue your other passions, like food, shelter and heat. Also, let’s be honest, here — making your own money is also going to keep you from being reliant on your parents at a time when they should probably be looking out for their own retirement. Give them the respect they deserve: Lay off all non-survival-related parental mooching.

*There are going to be some folks who need help finding their passion at some point in their life. And by some people, I mean everyone. Okay, maybe not your weird aunt who was born with a natural passion for The Moody Blues and spends her life as a roadie, okay, but the rest of us need some time and contemplation. Should we talk about finding your passion in another post? Is that too new age? I can’t just bust out the Wayne Dyer in a casual convo like this, but maybe later. Okay, later.

9. That job you secretly think you’re too good for? You’re not.
Do you know how many college grads are wearing McDonald’s uniforms this very minute? Thousands. So get over yourself. If you are willing to ride a bus you need to be willing to drive a bus. If you willing to drive a car you need to be willing to work in the factory that makes the car. And it’s probably going to be sweeping or custodial work because there is no way the machinist’s union is going to let you join the assembly line with the look you are giving me right now. PS: Custodial work is surprisingly profitable. I speak from experience here.

“Never be ashamed of what you’re doing. You might be flipping burgers or hitting buttons on a cash register but if it’s honest work, hold your head high.” —Jean

10. Hard work isn’t everything.
Does this scenario sound familiar? Your younger brother just landed your dream gig and now makes in a month what you make in a year. Why does this happen all the time? WHY? Timing. Location. Luck. Working your butt off will guarantee you a place at the table, but what table that is, well, who knows? We are in charge of making independent choices but some circumstances are beyond our control. The sooner you realize that, the happier you will be. Resenting somebody for their success is like resenting somebody for winning the lottery – it has nothing to do with you. Be happy for them, then get your butt back to work.

“If wealth was the inevitable result of hard work and enterprise, every woman in Africa would be a millionaire.” ― George Monbiot

11. A bad boss can make you a better person.
First off, there is a difference between a bad boss and an abusive boss. What you need to understand is that most everyone in Western civilization will have at least one bad boss in their life, and, for better or worse, it’s a good thing. Sorta. There are bully bosses, lazy bosses, nepotistic bosses, erratic bosses…all of them bad for your self esteem, bad for morale, bad for productivity…and all of them will require you to adapt in a different way, and that, that right there, the adapting, is one of the most valuable life skills you were ever get. You can’t pay for that stuff. It’s that critical. You know how your self-righteous cousin is always saying “Everyone should be made to wait tables for a few months when they are 18 so they understand what it is like to be yelled at all day!” (Your cousin was right on that one, btw)…well, having a bad boss is like that. But worse. And longer. Here is the upswing—reporting to a bad boss is one of the most effective ways to identify what it will take you to be a good boss, should you go down that path.*

*Note: Just because you are good at your job and accomplished or whatever doesn’t mean you need to be in charge of other people. Having subordinates is a major responsibility, not to mention a distraction. Even in boring old corporate America, some of the richest, most successful people make a conscious decision to have no direct reports below them because managing those people is just one more thing to take away time from whatever it is they do best. If are the type of person who daydreams about being THE BOSS, you might want to take a personal inventory before taking on that role in real life. You can be a perfectly nice person but still be a horrible boss.

12. Know your worth.
Never be ashamed to ask for more money. In fact, you should make a point to do it as often as possible. So long as your request is based on demonstrated experience (and not: “Why does Tiffany get more than ME?!”), there is a good chance you’ll get that raise. Or at least they’ll meet you part-way. Or, at the very least, they’ll start thinking of you as someone who is worthy of additional pay and responsibility. This is a hard one for a lot of people, women in particular. So ladies, in the great words of Kool and The Gang: Get Down On It.

“One of the reasons women still average lower pay for the same jobs as men is because we are far less likely to feel OK and deal with the nerves of asking for more (ideally more than you actually want because then you’ll probably land on what you want). Ever since I learned that, I have felt it almost a responsibility to do my part to combat that factor. “ —Abbey

Personal anecdote: I once had to leave a job over this very issue. Long story short: my superior left, responsibilities shifted, I took over the bulk of that person’s job, short of their title and salary.  I was sure a promotion was inevitable, but when time passed and that didn’t happen,  I got up the balls to request they bump my pay. I said, Blah blah blah…Meet me half way. They said, Blah blah blah…No. So I left. It was complicated, sad and mortifying. For the first year after that I felt like I had egg all over face. Why didn’t they see me as an asset? Didn’t they understand how hard I worked for them? Was I really that easy to replace? The fact is yes, they did replace me. They replaced me with a man with less experience and paid him more (*insert howls of feminist outrage*). The thing is, I don’t know how well it worked out for them but it worked out great for me. I found somewhere else that valued my work, offered new opportunities to learn, and more importantly, I didn’t have to go to work each day and report to people who flat out told me “You are worth less than that.” There is one thing you can’t put a price on: self respect.

13. Be the first person to help. Always.
Does somebody on the team need to work late Tuesday? Take out the garbage? Park on the far side of the parking lot? Be the first person volunteer, then, and this is the important part – never mention it again. All of those opportunities to be a helper will add up into something bigger, it just takes time. Don’t act like you don’t have time – you’re twenty something – if anyone has time, it’s you.

Side bar: There is a difference between being helpful and being a doormat. Know the difference.

Personal side bar: Never look down on helpers. In times of crisis, they are what the world needs most.

So that’s it! That’s what I know. Take it, leave it, throw it back in my face. Someone will read this and surely say “But I had a different experience!” and that is the beauty of life: We are all different. We all decide what comes next. It’s your path to chose, I can’t chose for you. All I can do is reassure you that great things lay ahead for anyone willing to buckle down and humble up.

You see that glove? That’s a gauntlet. And I just threw it down. That means I challenged you.

I challenge you to do set your standards higher.

I challenge you to look at work as a privilege, not an obligation.

I challenge you to go forth and kick ass.

xoxo

Aunt Peaches

Feel free to click over to my Facebook Page to see some of the words of wisodm others have already shared on this subject. Or better yet, chime in the comments below. What was the best career advice anyone ever gave you?

Usually when people talk about putting children on reality television I envision some poor child dragged into their parent’s doomed and pathetic pursuit of fame. Toddler beauty queens. Balloon boys. Racially ambiguous octuplets. Or really, any run-of-the-mill, doe-eyed spawn of a histrionic psychopath.

You know the type.

But it hasn’t always been like this. In 1964, a young man in England sat down with a group of 14 7-year-old children and interviewed them on camera. The resulting footage was parceled into something called 7 Up, a documentary which has come to be credited as the grandfather of all reality television, and more importantly, one of the most exciting social experiments of modern time. 

If you have taken a basic psychology class in the last 30 years (or just grew up in the UK), you probably watched a few installments. For everyone else, I’ll break it down: The aim was to show the lives typical British children; their homes, their towns, their basic routines. There were rich kids, poor kids, and some in-between. Some shy, some smart, some silly. Some were clearly coming from loving and supportive homes, while others were fending for themselves in a state-run orphanage or highly-privileged boarding school. A snapshot sampling of all walks of life – age seven.

Then, seven years later, when the kids were 14, they went back and interviewed them as teenagers. Did the smart one succeed in school? Was the pretty girl getting too much attention from boys? Was the littlest asshole still behaving like a jerk? Fascinating.

Then they went back and did it again at age 21.

Then 28, then so on and so on, every seven years, until today – age 56.

56Up is now in my local theater and I can’t wait to see it! It came out in the UK last year but is only hitting some theaters in the US right now. (First Downton – now  this. Gahhh. Why are the Brits so anxious to make us wait? )

If you are one of the generations of followers who have been anxiously awaiting the latest installment, check the website to see when it will be near you. If you are new to the series, I recommend you start from the beginning (at least watch the first one and a couple in the middle) before seeing 56 Up. Lucky for you, they are available on Netflix and Youtube. Come on! Get a craft project going…a cat…some wine…eleventy billion hours of documentary footage…Not a bad way to spend a cold and dreary February weekend. Who is with me?

Here, I’ll get you started:

Happy Weekend!

If you have two minutes to spare today, I would greatly appreciate you taking the time to fill out this short reader survey. I will use this information to develop and expand features you see on the blog and it will influence how I invest time in future posts.

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Well…I’m listening.

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My mailbox has been busting open with so many Valentines I hardly know what to do with myself. Y’all, I don’t even know.

Here I am, going all year with nothing but junk mail and coupons for Thai food and snow tires….then February hits and I feel more loved than a baby sloth. AND THAT’S A LOT OF LOVE.

If you sent one my way, please know that each of you will receive a personal response, I assure you, although I don’t know if I am able to match each one of you in creative output. I am so touched. So very touched. Even Lola got a few cards and nifty bits too! She is the only cat I know who owns a handmade leopard purse (see pic in slide show below). Lola will be responding in her own special way…     

I hope everyone who participated in  the valentine swap is enjoying their mailboxes these days (I know I sure am!) These photos in the slide show are just a handful of photos of the valentines in circulation right now. Aren’t they gorgeous?

Created with flickrSLiDR.

Thank you to everyone who shared these photos with me. With more than 1200 valentines in circulation this year, I could not include pictures from everyone, so these are just a few of my favorites. If you have more pictures, or posted images on your own blog,  please include a link in the comments below. I know we are all curious to see more!  

PS: If you are expecting/missing your Valentines, keep in mind some are coming from overseas and may be taking a little while longer.

PPS: If you signed up for Valentines and did not send them yet, what are you waiting for? Don’t stew on it and just get something creative in an envelope and out the door! So what if it’s late? The recipient will still be delighted. Now go!