New Addition

The first Saturday of October is one of my favorite days of the year.  It rivals dress like a cow day at Chickfila and Frappe-hour at Starbies in the summer.  It is the one day a year where I go to sleep on Friday and overnight all the magical little elves come and set up their very special craft shops.  The morning holds a fantastic site as over 300 white tent vendors have made their homes for the next 8 hours in the park across from my apartment.

It is crafting in all it's glory.  I spend hours walking up and down rows of hot glue and serger goodness.  I am dazzled by faux fall foliage and Christmas adornments.  I am in love with 90% of everything I see.  I take notes thinking, surely I could replicate something like that. . .but I never can.  So I just buy it.  And revel in my crafty purchases.

This year I fell in love with a little stuffed pig.  Made from old wool sweaters by the cutest braces wearing 13 year old, it sat perched in a little wheelbarrow waiting for a home.  I loved that pig the moment I laid eyes on it's snout.  I spent many of my precious craft fair minutes holding the pig, talking about the pig, embracing the pig, pacing around the pig.  But a stuffed animal?  Why was this pig so alluring?!

Well, let me just show you. . .

There was no resisting.  The 13 year old crafter looked me in the eyes knowing my love for the pig was separated by the price tag and said, "would you like me to sell it to you for less?"  

Yes.

And so the pig came home with me.

And for the baby, my pig will be.

To be continued. . .

Pintrocious: Cookie Cup FAIL

Ok, so I've grown a little more fond of Pinterest since my last rant about how I will never have an original idea again due to the zealous pinners out there (you can read about it here).  But it's been a source of inspiration lately and brings a little joy every time someone repins aruffledheart blog pic.  Talk about heart-melting.

I do love a good pinterest picture of food these days.  You know, the ones that totally look replicable and delicious.  Recipes that will make all your friends swoon and hate you at the same time.  Yes.  I like those.  And I've tried a few out.

But sometimes I get a little heated.  How can I evoke those precious juxtaposed emotions in my friends when the picture is an unrealistic outcome of what the person made?!

I think people get ideas in there heads and then search the internet for a picture thinking, "this is definitely what it would look like if I actually did it."

I cuss at you.

A few weeks ago I was having a little social time at my house.  I wanted to make some tasty (and pretty) snacks for my guests and had in mind a special pin of precious little cookie cups filled with a light whipped topping and fruit.  The pictures hypnotized me.  I was lost in the colors.

It seemed so simple too.  Pillsbury sugar cookie dough?   A muffin tin?  Really?  That's all?!

I was off to a grand start.  I even dug out that pampered chef tool I'd swear I need every day but had yet to find a reason to use it.

I followed the limited but simple instructions to the T.  <--Is that the correct usage of T?

But something inside me, call it my womanly pintrocious intuition, (pintrocious as in pin-atrocious) told me to not use the whole roll of dough. . .to try it out first before giving it my all.

Good thing. . .

There was some major chemistry explosions happening in the muffin tin and all over my oven.  I mean pillsbury everywhere!  I pulled them out and let the cookie lava cool.  Ten minutes later I had a pintrocious  mess of cookie rings with cookie bottoms glued to the bottom of the muffin pan.  That was fun to clean.

So if this mess is on your pin board. . .beware. . .the future of your cookie cups could be the GLAD bag.

Friday Snapshot: Pure Instinct

Last Thursday I woke up with an email from my dad and two pictures:


" One of our cats - Diddy - gets up on my desk every morning and sweeps off all of the paperwork with her tail.  Here she is in action this morning. "

I love this picture.  I also love that my dad seems tolerant to the daily paper pushing havoc caused by a kitty tail.  Must be years of child rearing  that makes him so patient with a cat.


Maybe one day I'll get a kitty.

 But maybe kids first.

Gettin' in the Greens (smoothie recipe)

I do like vegetables.  I promise.  Sometimes they are just harder to grab on the go.  Or you have prepare them somehow.  And who likes eating chard in the morning?

In 2007 a friend told me he tried to eat 5-9 fruits and vegetables a day.  I laughed.  How hard could that be?

Then I started to count. . .

Breakfast: 0/9
Lunch: 1/9
Dinner: 1/9

Yikes.  At most I was eating 3 servings of fruits and veggies a day.  Oh the shame!

So I made a mid-year resolution:  I will eat 5-9 fruits and vegetables a day!

I was passionate about this.  I almost felt as though I needed a cape every time I reached for some green beans.  A theme song began to play as I zealously proclaimed my quest for the home grown.

In the midst of my dietary rampage I went to have my yearly physical.  Yay.  Did the obligatory blood work and left wishing they passed out suckers to emerging young professionals.

A week later I got a call from the doctor.  "Hi Lauren, just following up on your blood work.  You have pretty high levels of potassium right now.  Are you taking potassium suppliments?"

"No,"  (and I don't like bananas either, I thought about adding).

"Are you eating a lot of fruit."

Pause.

The caped fruit eating crusader slowly backed away leaving me to have to explain my new food revolution.

"Well, yes.  I mean, I'm trying to eat 5 to 9 fruits and vegetables a week."

"Ok, well, how many of the 5-9 are servings of fruit," asked my doctor.

Well shoot.  No one told me 5-9 didn't include 8 servings of fruit and 1 serving of veggies.

"You're going to have to stay away from fruit for a bit. . .and things that have potassium in them to get these levels evened out.  Try incorporating more vegetables in your diet."

And there you have it.  More reasons not to trust guys who give food advice and my opinions on nutrition.

Since my potassium incident I really do try to incorporate vegetables wherever possible, or palatable.  Like throwing spinach in eggs, or spinach on a sammie, or spinach with chicken, or do a little switch-a-roo and replace spinach with kale.

I didn't say I had a huge repertoire.

Recently a friend of mine told me she put spinach in her fruit smoothies. . .and you couldn't even taste it!

Baffled and in unbelief I tested this out the very next day!

I am always looking for ways to eat more vegetables and not have to taste them!

She recommended two cups of raw spinach at most. . .three cups starts tasting like a liquid salad.

So here you go:  Gettin' in the Greens (you know, to balance out that 5-9 ratio!)

Add some spinach

Add some frozen fruit and fresh fruit (I had cherries, blackberries, and blueberries).

I love summer.

Add some ice if you don't have a lot of frozen fruit.

Add some juice (I usually use frozen juice and add water).

Blend to perfection.

Now you can eat your veggies with a cherry on top!

One last note. . .I tried doing this with broccoli.  Results not desirable.  I'm sticking with the spinach.

Urban Garden Party: Lanterns

Again, I've been wooed by the Target bulls-eye. What turned into finding a baby shower present and picking up toilet paper only led me to casually walk the aisles for clearance treasures.

Yesterday I found little lanterns and suddenly flashes of miniature Martha Stewart garden parties on my porch started reeling through my head like a silent movie.  That's right, garden parties aren't for gardens anymore.  They can be right in a suburban 3rd floor apartment just minutes from a metropolis.

And so shall it be.

Sunday craft time.

The lanterns cost about a buck each.  I used left over candles from my wedding (why did I buy so many??). And I had my kind, patient husband help me hang them from the porch ceiling.

As he's screwing in the hooks I kept thanking him in between saying, "Are you sure we can put holes in the ceiling?"  Don't get me wrong, I wanted them there, I just also wanted to shirk responsibility in the case of a tenant no-no.

I tied the lanterns to string. . .maybe I'll get out some pretty ribbon later. . .

and hung them from the hooks.

Third floor garden party.

You're invited. . .

Just bring the dessert :)

Charred

A week ago today, Andy and I headed toward Colorado Springs to visit friends and delight in beloved sites.  As early as Castle Rock we saw a little puff of smoke rising from the front range.

At 1:02pm I tweeted, "Colorado is on #fire #again :(" 

Photo tweeted at 1:02pm on Saturday, June 23rd

Little did I know this tiny puff of smoke would grow into one of the most devastating events in Colorado's history.

At 3:16pm while scarfing down the most delicious oatmeal icecream at Josh and Johns with my Florida friend Rachel, I received a text from Andy:  "Don't go hiking. They are evacuating Eagle Lake."

Eagle Lake Camp, Saturday, June 23rd
Photo by Andrew Brown

Around 3:50pm Andy was snapping photos atop the castle at Glen Eyrie with his friend, Daniel.  As they climbed down and they got word that it was time to evacuate the property.  The fire was coming.


At 4:15pm it was time to go.  Rachel got a text from her host home that they were preparing to evacuate.  She needed to go gather her belongings.  We hugged and said we'd always remember the time the fire made us say goodbye.

At 8:32pm we drove away from the Springs while I watch flames dance on top of nearby ridges.  My heart was anxious for how the land, the homes, the people, would fare through this event.

For the next five days I became glued to KKTV.com and the Gazette website.  I was hungry for up-to-date information and constantly searching for burn area maps.  I prayed and pleaded for the safety and protection of the places that were so dear to my heart, namely, Eagle Lake Camp, nestled in the pines of Pike National Forest.

Eagle Lake opened my eyes to the wonders of God, discipleship, ministry, and Colorado.  After serving there in the summer of 2003, my was palate was prepped for a more permanent western adventure.  I served there again in 2004, and after graduating from Florida State, I packed up everything I could stuff in my '93 Toyota Camry and headed west to serve at Eagle Lake for two more summers.

Eagle Lake, 2006

Each day the fire crawled closer and closer toward the camp property.  I had painfully clear images of flames licking up girls camp where a cough drop is still stuck to a board in Marigold cabin from when I was a sick counselor in 2004; and of flames tearing through the Dining Hall where I once yelled, "it dusty in here?" to give announcements to the campers; and flames consuming the path to Bear Rock where we led never ending lunch hikes with whiny voices only for their mourning to turn to joy when they approached the summit and stuffed their little mouths with pb&j's in front of a majestic vista.  It hurt to think about the pristine property, lying quiet, still untouched, while a fire pillaged surrounding acres.

Aftermath of Saturday, June 23

Aftermath of Sunday, June 24

Aftermath on Monday, June 25

I think the pain was magnified knowing what heartache comes in the aftermath of fire.  In August of 2009, I returned from a hike only to see a column of the thickest, blackest, most angry smoke I have ever seen coming from the direction of my home.  Instinctively I knew that my life was changing as I headed closer.  I ran through the maze of condos and into the sight of flames ripping through my tiny dwelling space.

My bedroom.
Photo compliments of Stellar Propeller Studios

Fight fires.
Photo compliments of Stellar Propeller Studios

I cannot describe to you the feeling of absolute helplessness I experienced I as looked on.  There was nothing I could do.  Even if I threw my body on the flames themselves, I would not have stopped their consuming power.  But louder than the sirens, louder than the clamor of the crowd, and the media frenzy, was the whisper of the Holy Spirit with these words,

"I will keep in perfect peace, him whose mind is steadfast, because he trusts in me."  Isaiah 26:3

The day after.
Photo compliments of Stellar Propeller Studios

The months to come were nothing short of difficult and painful.  I will tell you, rebuilding it all is a journey.  But there are untold blessings in each of those days.  Experiences I never would have chosen, created a channel so deep and directly to God.  The family of God rallied around me and provided for my needs.  My friend, Allison, looked me in the eyes as my condo burned in the background and said, "I want to be here for you, and I'll stay if you want me too, but do you want me to go buy you some underwear?"  Blessings all around.

My computer and glasses.
Photo compliments of Stellar Propeller Studios

I know a little bit of the grief, but I know the gift.  I know that if the Lord decided it was time to take Eagle Lake, that there would be his merciful hand there to bless the newness that would come.  I still wondered with a heavy heart, what God would do in the midst of this trial.

Throughout this all, I continually thought of the story in Daniel of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, who enraged King Nebuchadnezzar by worshiping the Living God.  The King planned to throw these men into a fiery furnace to watch them burn alive.  Their response amazes me each time:

"O Nebuchadnezzar, we do not need to defend ourselves before you in this matter.  If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to save us from it, and he will rescue us from your hand, O king.  But even if he does not, we want you to know, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up."  Daniel 3:16-18

God is able.  But if he doesn't?  We will still worship him alone, because he alone is Good.

The infrared scans continued to pour in and on Monday, the camp was clearly being attacked and eventually surrounded.  Until yesterday I did not know the outcome.

By Tuesday, June 26, camp was surrounded.

At 3:22pm on Friday, June 29th, I received a text from my friend Jamie who was attending a Navigators meeting, "the cross at Eagle Lake is still standing."

A beam of hope.

At 4:35pm Jamie continued, "A firefighter said there were some truly miraculous things that happened."

I learned that through it all the damage to structures at Eagle Lake was minimal.  The forest melted in the furnace and has left some sad scarring, but at the heart of Eagle Lake, aspen leaves are dancing and stately pines grace the hill.

The cross at Eagle Lake, 2006

I praise God for his mercy and choosing to allow camp to remain.

With that said, the fire marched on.

I know that within a few hours on Tuesday, June 26th at around 4:30pm flames ripped down the foothills and devoured an estimated 346 homes, including seven homes of Navigator staff.  My heart aches for them and the moment the victims will lay eyes on the scarred properties where their homes once stood.  I can only continue to pray and hope with them that in the days to come God will be there providing the utmost care for their deepest needs.

I am so thankful for the power of God and continue to submit to the fact that his ways will always be above my understanding.

Praise the Living God.

Andy Standy's

My husband is an artist. Have I mentioned this?  His creativity often spills onto household objects (I have to hide things I don't want superglued with string).  I love his usage of colors and textures and his ability to dream as he works boring mediums into forms of brilliant expression.

Here are his latest creative children birthed from cardboard and spray glue. . .we call them Andy Standy's.

Step back Hallmark.

Doesn't it just make you so excited for the Hlushak Family Business?

Happy Friday, friends!

Choose Thine Option

I have no idea how it happened.  One day I was just doing the usual peruse of facebook statuses and the next thing you know I'm enrolled.  Well, there were some phone calls, some prayers, some emotionally charged internal conversations, and a lot of day dreaming, but I did it.  I signed up.

I love that this happened for several reasons.

1.  It goes to show you (and me) that when you say, "I would never" you might actually find yourself in that exact situation.  Humility is a life-long lesson.  

2.  It challenges me to think about decisions through the larger lens of God and his purposes.  I really had to push this decision past the fear of man/what will people think of me and into the realm of 'I trust God even if this totally flops.'

3.  Failure equals a collection of 10 really cute bags. . .unless I give some away as presents. . .and then I have five really cute bags.

Here I am, at the threshold of my own little mini adventure, and it comes in dots, flowers, and denim (no sparkles. . .yet.)  As of last week I have stepped into the tote-ally awesome world of thirty-one.  Yeah, I said tote-ally.

All my southern friends are all getting out their fold and go organizers in shades of minty chip and aqua circles and putting another tick mark under "Friends I've Lost to Thirty-One."  While out here in Colorado everyone is scratching their heads saying, "Is that Vera Bradley?"

A few things.  First, southern friends, if you're going to keep score, consider changing the title to "Friends that can change my life through organizational bliss and get me free stuff."  I understand that is a little long.  You can call it FTCCMLTOBGMFS for short.  Second, all my Colorado friends, consider what a thermal lunch tote could do for your romantic relationship; a little sparkling wine, some seasonal fruit, all tucked away in a chilly black perisian pop fabric cooler.  Ooh la la!

The Ooh La La Luncheon.
Pictured with a thirty-one thermal tote (wedding present from the wonderfully fun Michelle W.)
and our lonely tomato plant.

I'm not sure what this mini adventure will hold.  My friends back home own half the thirty-one catalog and my friends out here are wondering where their nalgenes and chacos would go.  (I mean these things in the most sincere way.)

But there is something so exciting about this to me.  Maybe it's the fabric.  I am a sucker for cute fabric.

And also for organizational miracles.

Organizing Utility Tote with my foam core roller posing as a swimmy prop.

My reasons behind joining were simple:  connect with more women, share God's love, and hopefully learn skills and ideas to launch A Ruffled Heart into whatever creative dreams that lie ahead.

Thirty-one is named after Proverbs 31 about the wife of noble character, or the "virtuous woman."  I love the verses that talk about how her trading is profitable, and how she bought a field and planted a vineyard.  She also sold linen garments and supplied the merchants with sashes.  I won't go into other details of her extraordinary life, but oh how I hope to do half of what she did.

I really appreciate the entrepreneurial spirit of this godly woman captured in this passage of scripture.  The motives of her heart were to contribute to the needs of her household and support those around her through providing goods and services.

I'm not totally there yet.  I still don't know how to make a sash, although I have been working on bunnies. Not too many merchants lining up to purchase them.  Thirty-one does seem like a stepping stone into a world where I could potentially contribute something to the needs of the Hlushak household if ever God blessed us with a precious baby Hlu-Hlu, and that gets my heart going pitter patter.

"M" is for Mommy. . .let me rephrase. . .future Mommy. . .let me rephrase-I'm not pregnant.

Casual Cargo Tote-with home-made bunny waiting for her merchant.

So the moral of the story is, never say never (unless you are referring to drugs), trust God always, and consider adopting a cute bag to bring organizational restoration to your household, bedroom, bathroom, laundry room, craft space, behind the couch, in your car, on top of the fridge, under the counter, and wherever else you can picture temporal bliss.

I don't want to get sales pitchy or ever loose a friendship (these did not make it in the top three reasons of participating in thirty-one) but I would like to invite you to browse the virtual thirty-one store on my site:  www.mythirtyone.com/aruffledheart/

I will say three things about this:

1.  If you host a party-whether a catalog party, an online-visit my website party, or a cheese dip wine tasting shindig at a home party, you will be richly rewarded with fun textile treasures.  And this comes from friend Lauren, not sales crazy-eyed Lauren (she actually doesn't exist).

2.  Gift ideas abound and can always be personalized.

3.  There are always monthly specials.  That means a deal.  And who doesn't love a deal.

Cheers to our adventures, no matter how mini they may be!

Holla-shak Now. (The Name Game)

Some of you may know this, but my husband is a man passionate about good design.  One of our first conversations was about typography and why the world would be a better place if papyrus accidentally fell into a blender.

I remember craning my neck to watch him in the backseat explain how art is wrapped up in the stroke of a single letter and then began talking about kerning; at that point I thought we changed the subject to Winter Olympic sports.  

The facts point to fate.

Home-made name generator.

Andy + Mac + art + stories + God - papyrus = Graphic Design Bizz!

We've running a small creative operation for the past three years, but have remained nameless, and afraid to venture into the business world.

Well hold the horses, and fire up the oven. . .it's time to make some design pies up in this house.

The creative process of naming our business has been foul.  Lots of "no ways" and "seriously?" and "that's seems boring" and "why do you want to use the word sparkle so much?"  (I think you can assume that Andy was not the sparkle advocate.)

We finally decided to commit.  

But I can't tell you yet. . .because we haven't registered the name with the state AND and I know you'll go buy the website URL and make us pay you millions for it-I know you and your get rich quick schemes.

Here are some floppers (feel free to purchase the URL for the following. . .riches not guaranteed):

Hlushak Creative (and how many of you can close your eyes and spell our name. . .correctly.)

The Lu-Shack Creative (but we didn't want people to think we had "poopy" design.)

Grizzly Collective (not a huge market for grizzly collectors)

The Gospel Collective (Andy said, "this is a joke, please don't write it down")

Campfire (John) Denver

Holla-Shak Creative (how come every time I say this name my London London, wait a second.)

Halla-lu Shak Creative (the holier version)

Campfire Coffee ("It's a good story" -Andy referring to the time he tried to make cowboy coffee  on a backpacking trip out of a used sock and tin can. . .success anticipated but not achieved)

Savvy Venture (can't wait to have a spot of tea with you while we take a walk about)

Andy changing the world through one font at a time.

We are totally stoked to reveal the name. . .in fact, you may even want to check back as soon as three years from now.  Joke.  That's when we'll have a logo.

I know that the name might fall flat in a sea of people who don't like sparkles or really really liked the name Savvy Venture.  But Andy are just all around excited to be on a pioneering adventure of creativity, story sharing, fonts, and great design.

We hope you'll be excited and maybe even let us design your business card. . .and lets face it, we all need a cool business card.

The expanse is wide, the possibilities endless, but there is nothing new under the sun.

Praise the Lord and here we come!

A-DOOR-able

I know what you'll be doing next weekend. . .hitting up all those neighborhood garage sales looking for the golden (wooden) ticket.

About 2 years ago Andy and I were taking a walk in my Old Colorado City neighborhood and happened upon a miniature yard sale.  The mom, with her wispy red hair coming loose from her bobby pins, darted around her display of coats and furniture pieces.  She was selling things from her home to gather enough gas money to send her son off to college.

There, propped in the center of the lawn, perched against a table, was an old door, weathered with peeling steely hospital green paint.  I was in love.  "How much for the door?"

"Oh, I don't know, 5 bucks?"

"You sure?"  (I mean, when you see a prize, you're willing to pay.)

"Yeah, sure; do you want this typewriter too?"

"Hmm, I'll take the door."

"Well, I throw in the typewriter too."

She must have had some ill relationship with this 1950's looking typewriter.  Perhaps she wrote a love letter to a man who never wrote back.  Maybe she painstakingly typed page after page of her mystery novel only to be rejected by several publishers.  Or maybe it was junk she couldn't get the trashman to take, so I was the lucky recipient.  Anyway, this is about the door, not an old sad typewriter.

While I continued to fall in love, Andy ran back to get my car to stuff the new door inside.

And inside it remained.  Well, outside too, for the past two years.  My prize ignored until one day Andy looked out on our modest apartment porch and said, "How 'bout we paint that door?"  Adventure on.

We darted to Home Depot and scanned paint swatches.  We landed on a fresh and steely purple, with a hue of gray.  (I was never a purple girl-always pink, and then I ordered purple flowers for my wedding-sold.)  We also picked up some sanding sponges and paint brushes (the economy kind-maybe not the best choice for more than one project.)

Andy and I had multiple visions of purpose for this door, but one thing we knew, it was going up on the wall.   Maybe put fun coat hooks on it or picture frames?

Step One

Have your husband prop up the door so you can take a "before picture"

Step 2

Sand down all the chipping pieces. 

Step 3

Gather the shavings and wipe down with a rage to get the historical dirt off.

Step 4

Time to paint!  Another point for arid Colorado-the paint drys so fast!  We just bought a $4 paint sample and it covered the entire front of the door.

Step 5

Hardware time.  Andy put three hooks on the back to hang on the wall.  

And Viola!

You too can create this for about ten bucks. . .

that is, if you can find a lady trying to earn some gas money for a college road trip.  Fingers crossed.

Next I painted some old frames I got at good will-the original project was to hang them from the stage at our  wedding reception-obviously I have a great track record of buying things and not executing projects. 

But the frames still aren't up.  Too much follow through right now. . .I need to relapse on at least part of this project or I just wouldn't feel like myself!

Best wishes to you on all your future garage sale endeavors.  And always carry a five dollar bill around-you never know when you're prize will be sitting on the front lawn of someone's yard.