Photography

My dad was a dentist by profession and a photographer by hobby. One of the best things he ever shared with me was his photography. I don't know how long he had been into it, but I can't remember a time when he didn't have a camera whether it was his newest toy or an old, barely functioning friend. He usually took pictures of flowers and my sister, my friends, and me. When he took pictures of flowers, he always took a sample to practice his flower-identifying. He had thick binders full of these flowers and his books were also filled with them. To date, I've never seen such a large, beautiful collection. Though, his skills in photographing those flowers was more impressive. I have spent hours looking through his thousands of photos. I'm still not done. He covered nearly every event in my life up to age 11 plus life around him as he saw it. What's kinda funny is the fact that I don't like my picture being taken. He was the only person I really let take pictures of me. He passed many things onto me, but I think photography will be the one I'll take with me until the day I die just like him.

This is one of my favorites

I admire my dad for getting so close to this goose. It looked pretty mean to me.

He gave me my first camera when I was 5 years old. It was just a disposable camera, so I could take it to school and show off to my best friend in kindergarten, Amber. Most of them had red finger marks, but that was nothing my dad couldn't teach me how to avoid. I went through a film camera, a Polaroid camera with sticker-backed film, and finally a digital camera around age 9 or 10. A lot of people have told me that I was a really spoiled child and I can admit to that. In my defense, I will say I used everything my dad gave me. He did not appreciate waste. I've had my share of punishment.

He definitely knew how to capture memorable moments, for better or for worse.

Since that digital camera, I've had two others. I've learned from each one. Like the one I have now has a lot of manual settings, so I'm learning old school skills. I still need to get around to working in a darkroom, but I'm content with my Kodak for now. I just like taking pictures. When words fail me, I still have my camera. I'm definitely an amateur, but maybe someday I'll get close to my dad's skill. If I never do, I won't care. I'm just happy to take pictures and upload them onto my deviantART account. It's just a fun thing for me.

I have to share something else because it made me laugh. I randomly found this site through an announcement on Craft, I think. They had me at "buffalump". :P

Have a great weekend everyone :)

~Alyssa

Patience+Pudding Mix=Perfect Cookies

I have been thinking about my next blog post since last week. I have been unable to actually write about anything until I saw a video from Slate V, Slate Magazine's video podcasts. It was called "Patient Actor". It got me thinking about patience in general. I can admit I think I'm more patient than I really am. Last night was an example of one of those times I'm more impatient than patient.

My aunt came home with chocolate chip cookie ingredients and told me I could bake some whenever. We bake cookies at least once a month. Usually, multiple times because one batch doesn't satisfy 8 people for long especially when 4 of those people are guys who know how to eat. I decided to make some cookies while I waited until it was my turn to microwave my dinner (busy day, chicken pot pies for 5/8 of us, about 8 minutes each due to impatience, I was last). I have my own way of making cookies because when I try my aunt's way, it doesn't go well. We interpret the recipe differently. She waits for the butter to soften, so she can properly cream it. I add all of the ingredients in order lump by lump, but I only wait for proper mixing at the end. She happened to be watching me mix and noticed that my way is just impatience. In my defence, I use a spoon to mix. That takes longer than a mixer and requires patience. That's getting on the topic of laziness in cleaning, so I'll get back to the topic. My way works because I do things slowly. By the time I get the flour mixed in, the butter has also mixed in. For the purposes of eating the cookie dough raw, it's perfect. The dough is neither too soft nor too hard. It's just right for my cousin and I to scoop chunks out while telling each other to back off and get a spoon. That's with the part of the cookie dough that doesn't make a perfect dozen, so we don't contaminate the rest of the dough. (Germaphobes only share germs with each other :P) As well as my cookie dough comes out, my aunt's cookies will always come out better than mine. I can accept that. My aunt will always do things better than I. She's more experienced. I guess patience is the ingredient that makes the best cookies. At least that's what I'll tell myself when I get everything out and realize we're out of pudding mix.

Have a great weekend!

~Alyssa

I Heart Plushies

I don't need Valentine's Day to celebrate all things cute, sappy, and loved. I have an obsession with plushies. What on earth is a plushie? Well, allow me to educate you. A plushie is a stuffed toy/animal. “Plushie” isn’t a dictionary word, but I think it’s more fun to say than stuffed toy. If you don’t know what a stuffed toy is, just see Wikipedia
A Google search of "plushie" comes up with the term "plushophile". My friend, Shelbi, and I loosely fall into that category under the non-sexual subcategory. We are filled with joy when we see plushies like the the Mini Love Yetis, HeartTart, and Star Wars Moon Buns.

from deviantartist loveandasandwich

from deviantartist rakelacreations

from deviantartist moonyen

My favorite places to look at plushies are craftster, Threadbanger, deviantART under Artisan Crafts, Craftzine, and flickr. Shelbi and I have collections of links to everything cute and plush. Those internet finds have influenced our creations.

Example courtesy of Shelbi

Why do I like plushies so much? It all started with Snuggle, my bear. I got him when I was really little. A dog dragged him, a garage hid him in its junk, and my backpack found room for him on overnight trips. He was squishable, soft, durable, and adorable.

Snuggle is the white one. Sapphire is another old teddy bear of mine.

He spurred a collection of Beanie Babies and various other stuffed toys. When I learned about the world of crafting (sewing, knitting, crocheting, etc.), I became interested in making plushies. I called my first plushies “darnit dolls” because of a youtube tutorial from Makezine and Bre Pettis. My family enjoyed throwing them around the house and beating them on various hard surfaces.

Five goofy darnit dolls

Now I make and seek inspiration from many different types of plushies. I’m hopelessly obsessed with them. How can I not be proud to make these?

They are for sale at Eleven B in Pollock Pines :)

Happy Valentine’s Day! Also, Happy Early Anniversary to my aunt and uncle!

~Alyssa (a.k.a. nickname3girl due to hastily set settings)

Not Thinking Clearly

This morning I set out to walk my family's Golden Retreiver, Sammy.



Usually he's pretty good about letting me close the front door before the walking starts. Not today. His collar slipped off while I had my back turned. I chased him down the driveway and halfway up the street (I live on a hill, so it was directionally up). Then, I realized that he was only running because I was chasing him. He thought we were playing until I stopped and called him. He came and knew the walk was actually starting now.The rest of the walk was normal. Why hadn't I thought of that sooner?

Later, I was just getting out of the shower and I heard a noise coming from the bedroom. It sounded like a bomb going off, then music. Oh, wait. That was just my cell phone. It was later after my shower. I was getting ready to exit the bathroom and I heard a noise coming from the adjacent bathroom (my aunt and uncle's). Thump. A pause. Thump. My aunt had the day off, so my first thought was she was in there.

Thump. I looked outside through the window. Neither my aunt nor my uncle were home.

Thump. My next thought was Miiki, one of my family's cats, was jumping on and off the counter. She did eat too much and back end was no longer small enough for her to wiggle herself from behind my aunt and uncle's computer. She had gotten stuck the night before.

Thump. Nah. It couldn't be Miiki because she sounded more like a "plop".

Thump. "Scott!" I don't know why I hadn't thought of it before. I knocked on the wall. "What are you doing in there?"

Thump. "Grrrr" I knocked a few more times.

Thump. "Cut that out! Oh, wait. Duh."

Thump. I exited the bathroom and walked into my aunt and uncle's. Thump. "Scott!" I found my very mature cousin in the bathroom stomping his foot. Why? He just wanted to mess with me. He always does that. Though, the thought about Miiki could've been true. You'd think so, too if you saw this. (Note: No cats were harmed in the capturing of this picture)


Oh, well. I can admit I wasn't thinking too clearly today. Do I smell burning? j/k

Have a great weekend!