mí espejo

I could not count on all my toes and fingers how many projects and little craft things I would like to realize that I simply don’t do. I could spend days bookmarking pages, getting cartoony heart eyes over craft blogs and magazines, saving nifty tutorials and making folder after folder of ideas. I have all these scrapbooking and sewing supplies collecting dust. I forbade myself from buying anymore until I use ‘em [ or find some more storage space ;) ] Don’t ask me why, I couldn’t tell you. Having my own blog will hopefully inspire me to craft more; that’s the idea anyway.

Luckily I have me an amazing man that loves to craft too. More like woodworking than scrapbooking, mind you. I mean, our default channel of choice is HGTV. Jackpot. 

He’d like to learn how to sew, but he doesn’t need any more skills, this is mine. I’m so oldfashion I’ll be more than happy to mend a button.

I can’t remember exactly (and am too lazy to go through my magazines); think it was a 2011’s August issue of Martha Stewart Living? This section on decorating with a beachy theme— a four page spread or so. 
Oy. I was sighing in love at every page. Everything was gorgeous, but there was a sand dollar mirror that stole my heart. How-to instructions and all. She even linked (can you say that? can you "link" on print...?) to some east coast shop's website where she got her sand dollars.
My, t’was love at first sight; it was gorgeous! I folded the pages and put the magazine at the top of the stack for months. But alas, never got around to it.

The sand dollars are right off California’s central coast beaches. M’s mom and grandma spent a morning, probably a couple of years ago, a very early morning, collecting them. They knew they had to go so early before others picked ‘em up; which could not be truer because I have never seen a SINGLE sand dollar at our beaches that wasn’t the size of a quarter or broken. And she had a whole bag sitting in the backyard! They were just lying there like an unused little treasure, so I pushed M to wash them. It took us the longest time to get all the sand out. We followed an e-How article on how to clean them properly and left them to bleach in the sun for weeks days. I forgot about them until M’s sweet surprise.

That afternoon we went to every store that might carry mirrors like these, but they were either too small, had frames, square, etc. I love that we settled with this one, it’s the perfect size and shape. I picked up a bag of seashells, fake, for crafting. They were too cute to pass up; I wasn’t even planning on putting them all over, just as an accent if at all. But M made it work.
A glue gun + mirror + shells
I was so thankful she let us have those shells. It was only so easy to picture her with her mother, racing to see who could find more, bonding. She seemed happy we put them to use, too. That and plenty surprised at the finished product; said it looked so valuable and priceless. I was so scared bringing it home! Then I had to hang it up... all by myself.

Now it sits above my makeup desk/area. I don't remember how that spot looked without it. It's beyond perfect. I did my best to secure it, but I'm paranoid one really good earthquake will take it from me!
Excuse the low-quality phone photos, it's all I had on me the night we made it.

I can only imagine looking back at my reflection, our reflection, decades from now. A photo of our reflection on our wedding day. A photo of our firstborn's reflection.
I know, cheesefest.

Some people have rings, boxes, cards, whatever, that they pass down the family. Relics. Heirlooms. I think, I hope, I can have this the same way.

Y’know, if it survives. 

Crafted September 15^th 2012

✽terri

"no doubt in my mind where you belong"

And [now to] introduce someone here. An introduction purposely delayed for reasons... hmm. Yeah. Because tomorrow marks 8 absolutely wonderful months. Well. Following my entry before the last-- which was written before I met him-- I pretty much maintained my view on certainty but on a much more positive note.
I'm with my soulmate. I knew him. I knew he was. Always. Always. And now I'm with him.

There we are in March. We had a date night for just no reason, really.
I was genuinely not expecting to open the door to this most handsome gentleman with flowers and chocolate.

But I was expecting the look on his face upon seeing that dress. ;)

(and about him getting that he looks like Joseph Gordon-Levitt... I honestly don't see it. okay maybe in that last picture a bit but meh
I see Heath Ledger more than JGL. there. said it. just for the record)

 We went to a local restaurant; I had my first 'rare' piece of meat. It was weird, but good.

February: He made us our first bonfire and I watched my first beach sunset. Goodness...

For some reason this picture looks so intimate to me. The glow of the fire and how we aren't kissing-- we're smiling right on each other.

Oddly enough I don't feel too comfortable writing our story. Or my story about his story before our story... And I don't mean the drama surrounding this story.

Him and I alone knowing that story will do for now.

My amazing spring ended on pretty damn amazing note, too.

We tackled a 12 mile hike on the very first day of summer.

[ Didn't edit these at all, obviously. They are in all their imperfect film glory. Didn't even crop the edges after scanning. ;) ]

We soaked our blistery feet in bath salts (I freaked out and slapped ticks all over his car and bathroom upon finding them on me, nbd) and massaged each other's tired-ass legs with some awesome lavender oil. Love lavender. And of course, I must mention, I almost died climbing this bitch back up. I did. I did almost! LOOK AT THAT THING!

I cannot, in any way, words or pictures, do justice to that beach. Felt like we were alone in the world for the while we rested there. It was beyond wonderful. There was only one tiny mishap-- the death of my iPod. It only bummed me out because of the videos I recorded and pictures I took (I geniusly notaword propped it on the strap of the Camelbak there, that black thing on my chest, and let it record as we went along) that were lost. But it gets funny; the iPod (his name was Jake, really) made it home safely. I played Plants vs Zombies while he massaged my feet. Then he washed his backpack and forgot to check one single and very important pocket. Yup. Jake got a wash. Anyway, I refused to let him buy me a new one. Funny and tragic. But you owe me...

July: Strep throat; I risked my perfect health and happily cared for him. 

As amazing as it it to be with your soulmate, it's a little scary (back on that certainty point...), I mean, I'm not perfect. Life's not perfect. Although it feels like it is when I'm with you, it isn't. If for any reason or force on earth we could no longer be with each other... I wouldn't regret a single second spent with you. If for any reason... there wouldn't be an ounce of bitterness in me. I'd be beyond happy that I had you at all. Like I was before.

And really, that's a kind of a big thing to say and realize, right? 'Cause I say that with the most honesty.

You have done the most to my heart I've ever allowed anyone. I still get butterflies sometimes, or I'll get that "high-school-girl" feeling when we're together. Sometimes even when we're lazy in bed ("We own pants?") watching Netflix. I could make this the sappiest blog entry in history, but I'll leave that for a few months later. ;) And M, you know what I told you about writing; my view on it. (i got a question about why i refer to people with their initials on my blog(s), might as well mention that here too. i've clearly been doing that for a while and the reason is to protect their privacy, on the internet or whatever; chances are i'll use full names on private entries) Here it is all laid out.

Happy 8 months my love, mi chulo, mi amor, my soulmate.

I can't get enough of your grilled cheeses, your country signin, and your chinky kisses.

Thank you and I love you. (:

besitos

_________________________________________________________
This post is a copy from one of my last few on livejournal. I didn't post our story on there until I was comfortable with it, and now I feel it belongs here on this blog right from the start. I mean and meant every word. Written October 16th, 2012

✽terri

the one that is the first one

{Why yes, that is a little Friends reference.}

{the handsome goofball there is the guy of my dreams. he makes faces. all the time.}

I promised myself I would start this blog with a nice fresh beginning around the coming of this new year... and then my computer died a few days before... Perfect timing.
So I fixed that with a nice new Toshiba. Late, but all good.

I'm not sure yet where this blog will go or if there is a specific theme to it, but we'll just go with it. I have a tiny 'about me' section up there; ‘bout it. Though, I don't consider the blog under construction still—I feel like it’ll come alive on its own as I go along.

No preparation for a fancy first post either... boy.

I dusted off my old Olympus lady a few weeks ago. I'm no expert behind the lens, but I do put some thought into my shots, I promise! And what says more about you than your taste in home décor (excluding messes).
Sunflowers = my favorite.

‘Course, if you’re a billionaire your taste in home décor changes. ;)

I have some type of obsession with baskets, no idea when that started or why; but that saying, "a place for everything and everything in its place"? Yeah, that should be a basket for everything and everything in its basket. 
Candles are a girls best friend on her day off. Anime plushies, journals, and scrapbooking supplies. Hats n scarves (that sounds like the name of a really hipsterized thrift store). A sanddollar mirror my love and I made, it's so special it gets its own story later.
And a lovely motorcycle helmet surrounded by fabric scraps.
I dream for a job where I can craft and sew all day. :)

I'm hoping to keep some of my privacy, so I may still use my livejournal for more private ramblings.

But this baby is my first with blogspot and my beacon of inspiration.

So here goes. Welcome to this young lady to the blogging world.
✽terri