We're never gonna make it to the lightening round

Stephen: "Dad, I got a question. What is your favorite thing to do?"
Monte: "I dunno. Uh, maybe, watching College Basketball on TV?"
Stephen, making a loud buzzer sound: "INCORRECT! I'm sorry, but your favorite thing to do is play with me."
Monte: "Ah, I knew it was something like that!"

I'm dreaming of white space

I enjoy scrapbooking. I enjoy looking at professionally designed scrapbook pages. I often am overheard saying to myself, "Why, the sample scrapbook page in this picture is beautiful. I can do that! I'll just copy what they did, and then I will have the very same page myself. Simple!"

That's pretty much the exact moment it all goes wrong.

I probably should mention I've never been to art school or design college or even drawn one of those mice out of the magazines that promise lessons by correspondence, but I do know a little about layout and design from reading up on the subject and spending 18 years in the home of an elementary school art teacher. Just enough knowledge to be dangerous, really. From this painfully limited amount of knowledge comes my understanding of the concept of white space. Although it seems counter intuitive (we'll get to that later) having a good deal of white space (or blank place) in your design is actually necessary in encouraging the viewer's eye to focus on the other part that isn't blank. The design part. White space is sort of a reverse eye magnet. It also works to frame the design, and makes the whole thing look clean and beautiful, not cluttered or busy. Logically I completely get it--white space is attractive and useful, and you'd think it would be simple to employ. Basically, you just have to leave a part of your page blank. I mean when you boil white space down to its most basic argument, what could be easier than not doing something?

Unfortunately when it comes to real life application, my brain gets a little fuzzy. I look at the page and I inexorably start throwing every element but the kitchen sink in there, because more is more is more, right? RIGHT? I let the wave of "extra pretties" wash over me like I've got some terrible addiction to 'one more brad, one more flower, one more sticker' and I only stop when I'm out of breath and the page is ruined.

Once I come down from the momentary high I step back and look at my well intentioned page now looking like a Hobby Lobby threw up on it and I think, "but my page is ugly. It doesn't look like the page in the picture. How can that be?" knowing full well it is because the lady who designed the original page didn't cover hers in $600 worth of ephemera.

The good news is since I'm leaning digitally right now, there's plenty of latitude in taking out the excess without having to completely start over. The bad news is, I'm me, and it take several efforts before I'm able to stop being me and control the crazy. The page below took three days to put together,  and after eliminating half the original layers even I know it's still too full. The design I was attempting to copy mocks me with its vastly reduced clutter and conspicuous white space. That ever elusive white space. The holy white space grail. Someday I'll pull it off . . . maybe.Or probably I'll just start buying quick pages and have done with it!

Kristi

PS For those of you curious at home, there are nearly 40 layers in the CS2 version of this file. Somebody get me some help.

Merry Christmas from all the boys!

Things we don't deserve

Unless you're highly unlucky or have the personality of a pregnant yak, you have friends. Most of the time friendships are give and take, and if an accountant with a ton of time on his hands were to examine that give and take, he'd find it pretty balanced at the end of a lifetime.

Most of the time.

Then there are those people who just seem to give and give and give, and eventually it becomes apparent you are in a position where you'd have to have the resources of Warren Buffet and Mother Theresa to pay all the love, support, gifts and favors back.

We got us a couple of those.

First, there's Rickey and Susie. Rickey builds things like spare bedrooms, and fixes things like broken walls, on his own precious spare time (because he's got a day job too, like I don't have enough to feel guilty about). He always shows up when we're in a jam, like Batman or Iron Man--somebody who isn't just a superhero, but who brings his own tools. And he never says "you know, just once I'd like to be home watching HGTV and eating a chili cheese dog, instead of in your basement discovering which of my joints hurts worse when overworked." And Susie? She tells me I'm doing a good job and everything is going to work out splendidly, when anyone with eyes can see I'm not and it won't. And I always believe her--seriously, everyone needs someone who will lie to your face, and then help you clean up the mess. I can't tell you how much I love her and have grown to depend on her. Know what I do to earn all that? Yeah, I don't either.

Then, there's Michael and Alicia. They show up every Christmas without fail, with a beautiful tray of food you know they spent hours on, that I always hope I'm gonna get and am never worthy of. That food is like a Christmas bonus for stay at home "non-revenue generating" moms. It's a "job well done" platter. Know what I do in return? Eat it. Every year. Just consume it like I haven't eaten in a week. (This year was particularly yummy as you can see.)

So for those of you out there grappling with inequitable friendships this Christmas, I feel your pain. I guess it's the whole underlying theme of the season, isn't it? Gifts given, undeserved? I suppose the best we, the unworthy, can do is to be as ridiculously grateful as possible, and remind those people in our lives how much they mean to us every chance we get, because dang it, Christmas 2010 is only 13 months away, and we're about to be reminded once again how unfair it all is. As we stuff our mouths with delicious cookies.

Kristi

PS While I'm on the subject of being thankful, the funniest thank you card I ever saw was one of those Hallmark jobs that said "Muchas Gracias" on the front, and then inside, it read "That's Spanish for 'if I were any more thankful, I'd give you my car!'" I don't know why, but that always makes me laugh.

All aboard the Santa Train!

The Kansas City Southern "Holiday Express" (better known to the locals as the Santa Train) was in Slater, MO yesterday. I grew up near there and my parents still live in the area, so they knew all about this wonderful event. I had never heard of it before yesterday at 10 a.m. Here's how the telephone call from my mom went:

MOM: "Hey, you should take the kids out of school, call Karen, and all of you should come to Slater and see the Santa Train. Elaine and Clyde are going."

ME: "Wait a minute. You want me to take the kids out of school, in the freezing cold, pick up my sister in law and her two kids, pack up the strollers, car seats, snacks, diaper bags and play station portables, drive an hour to Slater (which is a town of what, 200 people and no Starbucks,) to see a train? Really? A train that my 70 year old aunt and uncle find interesting enough to go to? Are you kidding me?"

MOM: "It's supposed to be really neat. You should come."

ME: "Are they giving away free televisions or babysitting services? Will Bono be there, or some form of massage therapy be offered?"

MOM: "Um, I think the kids will like it. They'll see Santa--wont that be nice?"

ME: "Fine, but there had better be irreplacable childhood memories I get out of this, that I can throw back at them when they tell me what a substandard parent I was."

MOM: "I'm sure there will be. It's the only reason your father and I took you kids to Disneyland."

The phone call didn't quite go like that, but the gist was that no, in fact, she was not kidding, and as an even bigger surprise, it turned out to be a great time. Those Slater people know what they're doing getting the Santa Train to come to their sleepy little burg whose only other claim to fame is being the boyhood home of Steve McQueen. (Seriously. There are signs everywhere. They're really proud of Steve. Uh, Mr. McQueen.) Once we arrived and secured a good parking space next to the Dollar General Store (in case of a snack or drink or diaper emergency) we swaddled the kids up in forty layers of clothing and stood in line outside to get into the train. The line moved pretty quickly and once inside the cars, we were treated to the heated and dazzlingly decorated interior looking for all the world like Macy's and the Mormon Tabernacle Choir had been shoved inside it. Apparently, the employees of Kansas City Southern Railroad donate their time to deck it out, and they do an incredible job. Every bit of wall and ceiling was ornamented. One of the train cars even had two model trains running inside it (trains within a train--cute, KCSI). The whole thing was well worth it, (don't tell my mom I said that) and as any good scrapbooker would, I got one or two decent shots for the books (more on the Holiday Express can be found here: http://www.kcsi.com/en-us/GeneralPublic/Pages/HolidayExpress.aspx and the actual Slater, MO stop is mentioned here: http://www.cityofslater.com/Santa%20Train%20-%20Holiday%20Express.html)

Here are some photos of our awesome train filled 22 degree, day:

Karen, Megan and Noah in front of the train engine. Noah refused to look anywhere but at the trains.

Once we got inside, the first thing you get to do is sit on Santa's lap. I thought Santa and Peyton made a cute couple, but he was more interested in what was coming in the next train car . . .

Where we got to see the model trains. He LOVES trains, and it was tough to get him away from the little one and out of the big one.

This shot doesn't do the model train justice--let's just say I was very impressed at the detail and effort that must have gone into this thing.

I suppose the moral of this story is, if your mother calls you on the phone and seems to be out of her mind and begins telling you to drive to Slater, MO to see a train in 22 degree weather with small children, you should do it, whether you suspect her to be completely unhinged or not. Merry Christmas everybody!

For the Love of all that is good and holy, MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!!!!

I just wish Ben would assert himself more. He's such a shrinking violet.

Maya Kisses, Benny and Sid-a-nee.