Skip to main content

Christmas


My mother-in-law is an artist. A few years ago she discovered Bear Lake. My family has been going to Bear Lake since before I was born. We go every summer and LOVE it. My mother-in-law has been painting beautiful pictures of Bear Lake for a few years and I have loved every one of them. My favorite picture has been the watercolor she painted of the store at the marina called "Cisco's." I watched while it was in progress and quietly coveted it. This is what she gave our family for Christmas.

Hubby plays jungle basketball twice a week. He has broken a toe and rib, sprained his ankles, and often comes home with bruises or a back out of whack. He loves it. Every time he comes home with a new injury, I just roll my eyes. This year I designed a t-shirt. He has one white and one gray so he can wear it either team he plays on (darks or whites).
I designed these t-shirts and a sweatshirt for my family. This was my secret and clever Christmas gift. I am simply impressed with myself. Okay, the truth is that I used more shirts than seen in this picture. Apparently, you do have to make a mirror image of it before you transfer it onto the shirt. It DOES make a difference with the S.




Comments

  1. WHY would you torture your family like that?? Just give them lumps of coal, why don't ya?

    ReplyDelete
  2. Nanceeeeeee!! I didn't know you were blogging. Gotcha bookmarked now.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Nancy, I saw your remarks on Laura L's blog. I may become your new blog stalker if that's OK.

    Joan Ostler

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Most Dreaded Words

 Everybody knows that Christmas is about keeping the Santa Secret and pleasing your children. Therefore, the most dreaded words are uttered on Christmas Eve. "I changed my mind, I want a [pony, scooter, bike, Red Rider BB gun]" A close second place winner is, "Can I have a New Year's Eve party?" Then, "Me, too?"

Too Sick to be Sick

I am sick.  Really and truly sick.  I even took a sick day and felt no guilt whatsoever that maybe I wasn't sick enough to have a "sick day."  Because I am.  My 5 year old was sick, too so I took him to the doctor.  I refuse to acknowledge that I'm sick because I don't get sick.  So with absolute glee, my little boy climbed up onto the table, stuck out his tongue and conversed with the doctor.  I heard something about cloudy ears and antibiotics and then I just turned it off. It hurts when sound reaches my eardrums. We drove back home, I turned on the television, brought in the dog, and let the babysitting begin.  I crawled back into bed and swam somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness.  The kids came home from school.  I might have acknowledged them.  I made chicken noodle soup from scratch.  I couldn't even think.  My husband caught me in a sway and asked what he could do.  I grunted some terse instructi...

I Hate Pants

I wrote this on my Facebook page: Makayla just wandered upstairs and found me reading on the sofa, pants discarded, as usual. She laughed at me. I laughed at her. Then I realized that Makayla Jensen is not my daughter. Go home, Makayla! I'm not putting my pants back on just because you are here!  There are now two camps. People who agree with me and people who have absolutely no idea why anybody would discard pants upon entering home. Fortunately, I've found that I'm not in a camp all by myself. I found an article of 10 Reasons Why I Hate Pants: Best summed up by this Venn Diagram sent by Scott's cousin: