Last time I showed you a card I'd made for hubby's birthday. This time around I'm showcasing one I created for my grandson's 16th birthday.
If you think it's hard making cards for men, then try making one for a teenage boy! Man, that's what I call hard work.
Using a variety of different 'splotchy' stamp sets (from Kaisercraft, Stampin' Up!, and others), this is what I came up with:
The number "16" was made using chipboard pieces from kaisercraft, and painting with acrylic paint. The cardbase was 'kraft' cardstock, so using a vintage gold for the chipboard was the best match I could get.
I hope you've enjoyed this card. Thanks for reading, and I'll see you next time!
Links:
My website: www.cheryl-wright.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/cherylwrightauthor
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/writercheryl
BWL website: http://bookswelove.net/authors/wright-cheryl/
Saturday, October 10, 2015
Birthday Card for a Teenage Boy - by Cheryl Wright
Friday, October 9, 2015
Flawed Heros and Perfect Heroines by romance author Killarney Sheffield
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People ask me all the time why I write the kind of characters I do. Well, I suppose it stems from those old Harlequins from years back. Most of the heroes were these beastly fellows whom the heroine spent the bulk of the book trying to reform. I got tired of heroes with issues! Honestly, look around you, we are all flawed people. In this day and age society has developed an acceptance of things flawed, different and even bizarre. Who are we as people, as women? We are flawed, let’s face it, we all have our quirks and we are all looking for Mr. Perfect, right? RIGHT! Of course we all know there is no such thing as perfect, but that doesn’t stop every fairy tale from insisting our Prince Charming exists now does it? And what’s wrong with striving for the perfect man? Nothing… as long as you realize you’re only going to get almost perfect and accept that. And everyone’s perception of perfect is different of course.
I want my heroines to
be flawed, quirky, maybe not think things all the way through, after all that
is how all humans are. And as a reader I want my heroes to be just that,
HEROES, who despite being almost perfect fall for that weird, klutzy, stubborn,
wild heroine, because isn’t that what we all want, someone to love us despite
all out faults? Hell yes! Besides, if TV
and social media has shown us anything it’s that perfection is only a
well-crafted illusion. We are all flawed but we all share the same dream, for
that perfect someone to fall hopelessly head over heels in love with us anyway.
Yup, we are all Libra’s deep down inside: hopeless romantics who think life and
love should be fair. We are all fools for love.
And as for the Libra
thing… it was my birthday yesterday. And my wish was to remain a romantic fool!
Tuesday, October 6, 2015
It's FALL, Y'all! by Gail Roughton
I love Fall. Most
Southerners do. That first hint of cool(er) air after temperatures in the high
90’s with a heat index of +100’s—unless of course it’s +100 actual temperature
without the heat index figured in, which happens quite frequently—ah, that
first hint of Fall just lifts our spirts and gladdens our hearts. Granted, our idea of pleasant is low 90’s
with the high 80’s qualifying as cooler, and the low 80’s qualifying as
downright cool, but then, all things are relative.
September’s tricky. The temperatures fluctuate, and trust
me, nobody’s turned off the A/C and ceiling fans yet. But then October rolls
in. Beautiful October. All the leaves might not have turned yet, but
enough have turned to justify giving it the title of “Golden October”. And it’s
corn maze season! Our favorite corn maze is put on by Daisy Adams Farm in the
little town of Cochran, about 20 miles away from us. My daughter’s already put
us on high alert via Facebook tag. Corn
mazes are the only reason she’ll go near a
cornfield. She doesn’t trust corn fields, you see. Says they’re full of dead baseball players and
aliens and demon children. The only
thing she dislikes more than cornfields are clowns, which she deems “downright
scary”.
But corn mazes are different. And besides, Daisy Adams Farm puts on a “total
package”, complete with petting zoo, corn box, corn cannons, and hay rides.
Giant checker boards with small gourds for game pieces. And oh, crowning glory!
A “pick your own pumpkin” pumpkin patch.
Somebody should really tell Linus of “Charlie Brown” about that pumpkin
patch, ‘cause if I were the Great Pumpkin, I’d sure rise from that pumpkin
patch. We always pick a weekend or two
right before Halloween to do our Daisy Adams Farm afternoon so the pumpkins
will be just right for Halloween carving. Becca buys four, of varying
sizes. One for my son-in-law, one for
her, and one for each of the kids.
Halloween’s always been a special holiday for our
family. My husband loves Halloween
better’n any kid ever thought about loving it. And
as a side-note, Halloween’s our anniversary.
Yes. For real. No, we didn’t have a “costumed” wedding, and
actually, we didn’t even pick it on purpose. We had a Courthouse wedding with
none of the standard wedding paraphernalia such as bridesmaids and flowers.
Neither of us were into that, and I’d seen enough family feuds over the course
of my girlfriends’ big weddings to even consider it. We just wanted to get married. On the last Friday in the month. Which that year just so happened to be
Halloween.
Oh, sure, folks told us we were crazy and we’d never have
a “real” anniversary. We’ve always had a blast. Even before our children were
born, my husband draped our front porch with sheets, donned a sheet and mask
himself, and sat on the front porch to dispense candy with a spooky sound
record playing on the stereo. (Yes, a
stereo, and an actual LP album, yes, we’re that old.) The kids loved it. Most of them.
Of course, there were a few younger ones who didn’t much care for it,
and then he’d take off his mask to show them he was normal (more or less) and
give them their candy. Then came our kids. My husband, daughter and youngest
son would walk house to house till they dropped. The best costumes always turned out to be the ones we put together ourselves, and twenty-five years later, I'm still amazed my youngest child actually let us paint his face. Halloween spirit is the only explanation. My oldest son and middle child
took after me. After a couple of houses, he went into “been there, done that”,
mode. Which suited me perfectly, because
we’d go back to the car and tag along slowly behind our insatiable Halloween
trio.
These days, Halloween celebrations have shifted to my
daughter’s house. She lays out a “finger food” Halloween feast for both before,
after and during the night’s adventures, and while this new generation of
family Halloweeners goes out on candy rounds, my husband and I are left in
charge of her house to dispense candy. Her house has the most wonderful front porch
for sitting and watching the approaching trick-or-treaters. Randy’s swapped out his sheets for a new
costume. Nowadays, he’s the Grim
Reaper. And his mask has glowing red eyes that really glow. And yes, there’s still the
occasional younger child he scares the mess out of (and now and then, one or two of
the mothers), and of course when that happens, the mask comes off and mostly,
the child accepts their candy. Or makes their mothers do it for them.![]() |
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| my name be Cain...and my color be Se'ben |
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