TWO HUNDRED FORTY SIX…roosevelt was allergic to frugs…what?

I have one word for you today

Roosevelt

No, not as in FDR or Teddy.

I have discovered a new band that is similar to Beach Fossils. Their song moving on, makes me want to lock myself in a large dark warehouse with a multi-colored magenta disco ball and turn the bass all the way up and just watch the lights play off the walls and floor. I see myself sitting in the center of this empty warehouse on a glow in the dark BLACK Adirondack chair, with a straw hat, and a strawberry daiquiri. No. Scratch that…pinacolada.

And no, before you ask I’m not on LSD. It’s just that good. Just listen to it. If you don’t have a similar feeling, that may be a good indicator that we do not have the same taste in music. Which is fine. I think we would still get along. I like all music.

I am now on a quest to acquire all of Roosevelt’s music. Apparently they’ve been around for a while. Why I haven’t I heard them on my Pandora Beach Fossils station you ask?? Well, let me respond with, “My sentiments exactly!” What the hell are those algorithms for? I’m thumbing up Small Black, Kuyuckas, Wild Cub, Washed Up, Fleet Foxes…I could go on ad nauseum.

One thing is for sure, I’m going to need hearing aids and medicine for the tinnitus I will surely develop listening to my Beats headphones on their loudest decibels. That’s assuming all those damn B52’s and Dave Mathews concerts I attended back in the day didn’t already cause all the damage.

I’m laying here, my eyes are itchy, watery. My nose is stuffed up. This happens every night around the 10:00 hour. Finally after 3 nights of staying up past 10 I’ve come to the realization I must be allergic to 10:00. Just like my allergy to housework . I have Elena, one of my 3 best girlfriends to thank for my late nights…

SIDENOTE: Abby, Phoebe and I have decided we are ready to adopt not one, but TWO baby pugs.

And not just any pugs…this is where my friend Elena comes in….she is going to try to impregnate her pug within the next 10 days. She has a most brilliant plan to throw her little Lupi in a room with a French bulldog for the next week. And hopefully 63 days following their “spiritual” meeting, we will be gifted a boy and girl frug (French Pug).

For the past 3 nights we have been discussing our excitement about being PMILS together. “What’s a “PMIL””, you ask. Why it stands for Puppy-Mother-In-laws. DUH. We are already planning Holidays, Birthdays, weddings…vacations together, grandmother siestas. There are so many events that need to be pre-arranged. It’s exhausting.

The Tennessee Spranger’s are ready. It has taken us a solid 3 years to get to the point where we are ready to open our hearts to a new canine member. We obviously looked at golden retrievers again, but ultimately decided we would not feel comfortable putting a new innocent dog in that position of constantly being compared to the one and only Bear Spranger.

Also, the one lone picture of myself in this blog is taken by my other one of three best girl friends…Mrs Stephanie, who also owns a pug. The signs are all around us. I just need to find out if my third best girlfriend Karla also has a pug she is hiding from us. If not, she probably needs to get one so we can all siesta together.

Oh wow, I’ve got to start adding more planning to the list…

I also see myself roller skating in a giant ware house again with a disco ball (blue and green this time though, not magenta…that’s not a good color for skating Gods) again with the bass blasting and it’s just me and my PMILs in our Bikinis, pig tails, and bubble gum. That’s a much better dream.

TWO HUNDRED TEN…my day was craptastic how was yours? part 3

I’m visiting yesteryear with Dave Mathews Band’s ‘Live at Red Rocks’ this evening. There’s just something about ‘Granny’ that makes me envision myself lounging in the back of a pick-up truck wearing one of those old-school red plaid bikini tops with jean shorts, driving down a sandy beach road soaking up the sun, watching the clouds pass by. I always think of my friend Justin my brother-from-another-mother when I listen to DMB. Out of the 15 DMB concerts I went to, I don’t think any of them were with him…but he is the first person who pops into my mind anytime I hear this band.

So, I had another craptastic day last week. Why do my craptastic days always begin in retail stores?

I took the girls into the Lake Havasu, Arizona Wal-Mart on Friday. We were doing a little bit of food shopping…a little bit of school shopping…a little bit of craft supply shopping.

Despite not really knowing the town, I made it to Lake Havasu from the outskirts of Needles, CA without any whoops I missed the exit U-turns. It is an amazing feeling to arrive at the destination solely on memory,  without detours. It was an accomplishment for me honestly and it was Friday to boot. It was going to be a good day. I could feel it!

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During our visit, Cecilia and I made it to the potty twice, we had picked up all the groceries, visited the school and crafting section with no hick-ups. I was feeling it. I was proud of my crew. We were having a successful shopping experience. No-one was crying, no one wet their pants, the girls were walking by my side…not asking for everything in sight and I remember thinking, “OMG, this is it. We have turned a corner. My inmates are getting older. We are to the point, where we can all visit the store and make it in and out without any major dramas or catastrophes. This is it.”

We were in the check out and Cecilia said, “Mommy, pee pee” and seriously it was all I could do to hold back the tears of pride.” I gushed over her and took a moment to look her in the eye, rub her sweet face and shower her with verbal praise and kisses. A little over-dramatic…definitely. What can I say, I was submerged in gratitude and feeling appreciative. One by one, I was running down my list of people I needed to call and thank like I had just won an Academy Award.

I finished my praise-a-thon, paid for our items and politely asked Abby and Phoebe to stand with the cart outside the bathroom until we returned. We got into the stall and it was a thing of beauty. I didn’t have to coax her to “Go ahead and pee sweety” she did it all on her own. I swear it was a moment of moments to be treasured for years to come.

When we came out Abby and Phoebe were standing there like the good little girls I knew they were. Guarding the cart with their vigilant eyes. I proceeded to put CC in the cart and was quickly jolted back into reality when Phoebe started screaming at the top of her lungs.

Turns out, her finger was stuck in the cart and when I sat Cecilia down in her seat, it forced Phoebe’s finger into a more precarious position. I quickly picked Cecilia up from her seat and set her in the main part of the cart so I could focus on PJ. Yup, her finger was definitely stuck and bless her heart, I couldn’t get her to lower her voice. If you’re lucky enough to know PJ, you know she doesn’t do anything half-way. She’s a “Balls to the Wall” kind of girl. And that’s especially true with her volume. “Why speak at a 5, 6, or 9 for that matter when you can always speak at a 10” is her philosophy.

By that time, I had a small crowd gathered around me…watching to see how I was going to “save” this tortured soul. I began to sweat. I licked my fingers and was hoping to free her finger with my spit…but soon realized I was too nervous and suddenly had a severe case of dry-mouth.

“Chapstick” I thought. As an non-official chapstick spokesperson, I have every flavor all shoved in my “make-up” bag, because you never know when you’ll need a hint of wintergreen with a tint of strawberry followed by a splash of the forgetful blue one. I can do this…I whipped out the chapstick and within seconds her finger was free…black and blue for sure, but it was free.

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I got to one knee in preparation for hugging it out when a hand touched my shoulder. It was a petite lady fashionably dressed who had been watching nearby, “I saw the whole thing” she said, turning in an instant and vanishing into thin air. I thought she was going to say something else, which would have been fine, but she just turned and walked away, leaving me to ponder the purpose of her comment the entire weekend.

Phoebe and I had a private moment in a crowded store and all was well again…until she said, “Ok Mommy, you have my glasses right?” I blinked then squinted my eyes and stood with my mouth agape, like I normally do when I have absolutely no recollection of the words just spoken. Frantically searching through my purse and then the grocery bags to no avail.

“Phoebe, I don’t remember you wearing your glasses” I confessed. She then assured me she had in fact worn them and matter-of-factly had them on in the crafting section. I could hear the panic in her voice escalating. I could feel my body getting a fresh shot of adrenaline. My gut reaction was to take flight: GET OUT OF THIS STORE AS SOON AS HUMANLY POSSIBLE…but my head was telling me to put it all aside and help her…all the girls are watching me now. I needed to take the time, put aside my uncomfortable feelings and desire to get the hell out of there and give them a good example of what it means to “take responsibility and care for your things…and of course retrace your steps”.

We walked through the produce section, the cereal section, over to the kids sunglasses section. She assured me it was Abby trying on sunglasses, not her. Sure enough, they weren’t there. We made a B-line over to the school notebook section, the coloring book section and finally the crafting section. We scoured the rainbow looms, the wooden letter section and paint section where they lingered for minutes at a time trying to pick their activity, with no luck. During our frantic search, Abby and Cecilia became the supportive sisters and complied with every wild twist and turn of our storewide search.

It was in this moment, I contemplated telling her she actually didn’t even need her glasses anymore because her eyes had already improved. But I decided to forgo that piece of information because in reality, they did belong to her and she was taking responsibility for them. So many little lessons happening all at once, I couldn’t just throw my hands up in the air. We traced our steps all the way back to our self-check-out line where the empathetic cashier suggested we visit customer service.

When Customer Service said they did not find a pair of children’s red prescription glasses, Phoebe broke down once again. And again, I knelt down on one knee to commence a new hug-it-out session. Cecilia sensed the inner turmoil of her sister and naturally fell in line to help make little Phoebe feel better. Little Phoebe June, as beautiful and unique as she is, has inherited her mother’s sensitivity gene. It is both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because she will naturally empathize with others. A curse because she could turn into an over-sharer and a “yes” person much to her chagrin. I hope she fares better than I have in walking the fine line of being too open, caring, and eager. 

I was down on my left knee with CC who was so overwhelmed with worry for her sister,  She was holding on for dear life to my right side and Phoebe mirrored her on my left. Abby wanted a piece too, so she hugged us all. I have no doubt we put on quite the show at the Lake Havasu, Arizona Wal-Mart. A wee bit dramatic…definitely. The talk of the store…maybe.

When Phoebe felt better, we picked ourselves up off the ground, placed Cecilia back in the grocery cart seat, made it out to the car, and made it all the way back to the RV again, with no hick-ups.

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And wouldn’t it be great if the story ended there?

Naturally, I insisted on taking the girls to the park, because who needs to relax after the kind of morning we just experienced?

We rode our bikes up the mile and a half trail to the playground. The kids were getting along with each other, running around, chasing each other down the slide, under the platforms, over the steps, and through the little tunnels. I turned my back to check out some of the other RV’s in the park, when I hear Abby’s nervous voice yell, “CC!” followed by Cecilia’s screaming and crying.

I didn’t even think, I just turned and ran in the general direction of her voice. I hadn’t gone a full 2 steps before knocking my head on the steel platform above. The blinding pain brought me to my knees. With my hand over my forehead which I was amazed to find it was indeed NOT covered in blood I stumbled to my feet and made my way over to Cecilia. She  had tripped over a post and skidded on the right side of her face on the astroturf covered playground. She was standing there with that perfectly pouty lip holding her arms out toward me, needing me to kiss the pain away.

I laughed through the pain thinking to myself, “If someone had been watching this, they have surely just reached their quota for hardest laughable moments of 2016.”

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Poor Cecilia with her PD on the mend, she now had a huge cherry on the side of her face. We picked up our bicycles and peddled the mile and a half back to the RV.

The rest of the afternoon went off without any major hick-ups: Cecilia went down for a nap, the girls did their best at school, dinner fell into place, and as we were winding down the night, I thought to myself, “I need a glass of wine after this day”. I retrieved the only wine glass we had, since I had broken the other one, washed it out, set it out on the counter to dry while I reached for the bottle of Merlot. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of the wine glass tumbling off the counter and turned just in time to watch it shatter in 3 large pieces on the floor.

Carefully, I picked up the pieces and threw them in the trash.  I kissed Greg on the cheek and pulled a Kathleen Kelly: I made it to the bed and fully clothed complete with running shoes and baseball cap, flopped into the bed, pulled the covers up to my head, and proceeded to sleep sound until the following morning.

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In the morning, Greg took the kids out for breakfast allowing me an extra hour to sleep in.

And there in lies the memory of my craptastic day #3. A day so unforgivable, it is worthy of the Craptastic title.  With ‘Proudest Monkey’ on in the background, I picture my friend Justin having a good laugh at my expense…I know I sure am.

ONE HUNDRED EIGHTY FOUR…seeking stability within mobility

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being mobile full-time makes me realize how much I love and value my family and friends. There are some definite cons for travelling full-time. But you won’t ever hear me complain about the 3 hour time difference! At least not while I am in Pacific Standard time! Continue reading

ONE HUNDRED SEVENTY SIX…really real dreams

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I have always had the most vivid dreams. When I was a little girl, I had a dream that George Washington lifted a 5lb barbell above his head. That was the gist of the dream. He just lifted it up. Didn’t throw it, or begin a heavy weight training routine. He just lifted it up. It held some kind of significance for me because I remembered it as a nightmare. I am 39 now. Not a whole lot has changed. My dreams at 39 are just as vivid and vague as they were when I was 6. Continue reading

ONE HUNDRED FIFTY SIX…processing to remember

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Here we are one week after our sweet dog Bear’s passing and our emotions are still raw. We have crossed that hurdle of being able to say his name and talking about the goofy times we remember without our voices … Continue reading

ONE HUNDRED SEVEN…let ’em eat cookies

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A day off from school is equal to a day of absolute and total chaos in the kitchen. WE MADE COOKIES!!!!! butterfly cookies heart cookies circle cookies star cookies, triangle cookies, dragonfly cookies, apple cookies, Teddy Bear cookies, flower cookies, … Continue reading

ONE HUNDRED TWO…dysfunctional appreciation

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We have taken dysfunction to a whole new level in this house. I know we have reached our “dysfunctional family” monthly limit when my newly seven-year old wanders into our bathroom and sees a tampon (still wrapped in its store-bought … Continue reading

ONE HUNDRED…new start

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Since my last post, 3 months ago, we have 1. celebrated a birthday 2. started a new elementary school 3. moved to a new home (oddly enough I do not have any pictures of our home) 4. added 2 new … Continue reading

NINETY-SEVEN…blob out

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I have reached a point in my life where, at a certain time of day, my brain stops working. 5:30 in the afternoon rolls around and I can’t seem to form a single intelligent sentence or thought, if I do … Continue reading

NINETY-FIVE…new dreams

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We have turned a corner at the Spranger house. Cecilia has adopted a personality and she wants everyone in this house to know.  The above picture is a moment captured in a day in the life of Cecilia.  If Cecilia … Continue reading

NINETY-THREE…memories and anniversary’s

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In 7 days, it will be our one year anniversary since moving to Florida. Greg reminded me today.  on the one hand, it is so hard to believe it’s only been a year We have built a life here, I … Continue reading

EIGHTY-FOUR…bring on the festivities…

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I remember babysitting for my niece and nephew were around the ages of my kids now. I would watch my sister-in-law and think to myself, “man she is so busy, running a household, raising kids, taking care of pets and … Continue reading

EIGHTY-TWO…it’s all good

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When Abby was born, Greg and I had the brand new tv monitors. We placed it in her crib angling it perfectly so it would look right into that amazing little face. By the third night, we had to unplug … Continue reading

SEVENTY-NINE…sometimes there are no words

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Siblings… When I went to my first Down Syndrome Awareness Group meeting I met a mother who spoke about her sons’ older sister. When her son was younger, in elementary school, his older sister (who was only 9 or 10) … Continue reading

SEVENTY-THREE…my little sailfish!!!

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Abby Leigh Miss kindergartener… What can I say about my first-born going to school… Is it normal for mommies on the first day to be so extremely excited that instead of crying, nervous energy manifesting itself in hyper overjoyed behavior??? … Continue reading

SIXTY…hey where’d the sun go???

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It’s cloudy in paradise. My turtle is sick. Allergies have taken over so she is constantly fighting a runny nose, cough and watery eyes. Abby stands by the door watching to see if any of her friends are roaming the … Continue reading

FIFTY-EIGHT…Nana’s in town and Ceci’s gettin’ down

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My mother came into town for a quick visit and while she was here… Turtle had a mini-birthday celebration to commemorate her 9th month of life It was glorious I got to leave early in the morning to take pictures … Continue reading

FIFTY-TWO…

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It’s March 29th In other words, our baby girl is officially 8 months. How did that happen? It was a special day for Cecilia in another way as well, today she had her interview with the state early intervention system. … Continue reading

FORTY-NINE…the countdown has begun

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3 days 72 hours 4,320 minutes 259,200 seconds we will be gassing up, shoving in, eating out and scooting down the road!!! EEK!!! Did I mention how excited I am??? AND on a side note… Do Kings of Leon ever … Continue reading

THIRTY-SIX…super tuesday’s

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Super Tuesday’s  our Tuesday’s are spent with our beloved OT and PT, Beth and Beth. Two equally beautiful, energetic, positive and gentle individuals, whose names are both Beth…obviously! In the above picture OT Beth is using the Wilbarger Brushing Protocol … Continue reading

TWENTY-THREE…proud mamma

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My baby girl finally turned over today from her back to her front! I was beside myself with excitement! Of course she decides to make her triumphant debut right as I put my camera down. I was watching her as she … Continue reading

TWENTY…seriously

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I have one word to sum up where I am in my life at this very moment in time…that word is, yup, that’s right…seriously? I have a gazillion pictures of the beach…of which I am never going to do anything … Continue reading

TWELVE…spooktastic, spooktacular, spookteriffic!

I thought it was crazy, Halloween on a Monday night. We had a Halloween Party Saturday night, a perfect fall festival Sunday day and it truly felt like Halloween had come and gone.

Never-the-less, we welcomed the wonderful holiday and dressed for the occasion. Miss Bumble Bee and our little rainbow caterpillar tuckered out pretty quick.

Miss Ariel could have gone all night long…

She was so HILARIOUS…I remember last year at the tender age of 3, she wanted to go up to the houses all by herself. She did NOT want me to go with her! This year, she wanted to hold my hand, she wanted me to go up to the steps with her, she wanted me to ring the doorbell or knock on the door. I loved every minute of it, but as stated before, it was quite a change from the previous year. As we were walking up to one house, she looked at me with those BIG blue eyes and said, “mommy this house scares me, I don’t want to go.” At another home there were skeletons hanging from trees and she grabbed my hand and hid her eyes behind her hands and squealed. Oh these tender moments we share with our kids, they are soon to be gone and forgotten. Faded from our memory.

There’s my little bumble bee…kissing the dresser doors. Another moment I might soon forget…

I might forget that Miss Abby went through 3 costume changes before deciding on Ariel. I might forget that it took me 20 minutes to figure out that the bumble bee costume had a velcro ‘area’ which might make it easier to change a diaper, if such an act was needed. It was needed. The bumble bee costume was exposed to hazardous waste.

I might forget that Miss Cecilia looks extra ‘caterpillary’ with her hat on…but the 6-12 month caterpillar hat was WAY TOO BIG for her beautiful 3-6 month old head and WHILE WE ARE ON THE SUBJECT OF INAPPROPRIATE SIZES…Abby’s Little Mermaid dress specifically said ‘xs – 3-6’ and it looked like it could have been M-6-9. It was hanging off her sweet delicate little frame. Looking at this picture, with her arms above her head, I might have forgotten that little detail.

All these tiny little details…these little nuances…I want to remember these things about my children. I want to remember how I felt about buying Abby three separate costumes and allowing her to make up her own mind. I want to remember how reluctant Phoebe was about going up to someone’s house and the way she held on to me while she was wearing her body-hugging black velvet bumble bee costume. I want to remember how Miss Bumble Bee’s poor little yellow feathers rubbing off on EVERY THING made me giggle to myself! I want to remember how poop got on to her Halloween costume. I want to remember all of the sweet comments everyone made about my little caterpillar. In fact, I want to remember all the nice things everyone said about all of our little cast of characters. I want to remember all of these things. I am a mother now. The weight of that phrase can really sober one up. One day these amazing little people are going to grow up…and they are going to find something they are skilled in, good at or enjoy.

One day, us old folks might be welcoming their little families into our home for the weekend. When I share stories about their ‘mommy’s’ life, I hope I remember all of these wonderful little details. I hope we can all laugh about these silly things together. But for now, I want to spend as much time with them as I can. Get to know them. Hear them when they talk about their dreams. Sing with them…the way they want to sing ‘off key, making up new words and as loud as I possibly can’. Let them pick out their very own little outfits…even if they don’t match or are in the wrong season. Let them eat candy and sugar before dinner and as soon as they wake up in the morning. WAIT – did I really just write that?  Show them all of the opportunities that lay before them. LOVE THEM. Celebrate with them. Celebrate them.

It’s November. WOW. How did that happen?

SEVEN…feeding my soul?

I am desperately trying to put off fall removal at our house.

I do a spring cleaning and a ‘fall remov-ALL‘…every room in this house is jam packed with STUFF we can’t use either because of the season or someone is growing or I didn’t like that particular basket under the table and had to replace it and now I don’t know what to do with this basket so I am going to hide it in the closet ‘STUFF’.

So I am procrastinating in the only way I know how…by exploring my yarns and trying to decide whose next in line for a fall hat…

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oh the textures, the detail of the colors and the softness of the yarns…

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begging me to get out my knitting needles and ‘come play with us’ instead of housework

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my friend Stephanie is quite the artist…very inspiring.

She always tells me to feed my soul.

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well my soul is VERY HUNGRY this season and desperately wants to knit and take pictures and take the kids outside and go on long walks, grill out, listen to the band Beach Fossils really loud, dance with my kids in our living room, drink a beer, eat salted peanuts, have long talks with my husband, surround myself with good people …

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I have been noticing a lot lately…there are two kinds of people in this world

1. people who make you feel great about yourself. People who make you feel like no matter what you do, it’s the right thing to do or that you are capable when you doubt yourself. Positive people. People who accept you for the crazy zany sensitive person you are.

and the other kind

2. people who make you feel ‘not-so-great-about-yourself’. The people who make you feel that no matter what you do, they could have done it better. People that point out your mistakes ALL THE TIME. People who seem to constantly want you to change and adopt their ways of life, because they are the real ‘happy’ ones. Negative people.

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My soul is hungry for the first kind of people…of the positive persuasion. Cheers to those individuals who really love life and enjoy bringing other people up instead of down!

I can’t wait to dive into my pile of beautiful, bright, highly textured yarns…

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