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That email I sent to all the executive officers of the Tacony Corporation actually produced some results. I really thought it would be read by their assistants and that the actual people I sent it to would never see it. The president of Baby Lock called me this afternoon from his cell phone since he was on the road. He had just opened my email and thought he'd better call because he sensed the urgency. That means he read the part where I told him I was a blogger and would be publishing my very honest review of his company online. Dude was really nice and said he understood I'd been having some trouble getting my machine serviced. I was prepared to start my rant but didn't need to since he proved to be very solution oriented. He said it looked like the repairs I needed were covered under the warranty and if I would be willing to ship the machine to their corporate office, they would see if the parts I need are still available. If so, they will repair the machine at no cost t...

I feel the need to rant again. I've been doing that a lot lately. However, I don't think it's me getting unreasonably frustrated with other people. I think everyone else just needs to quit pissing me off. Today's rant is about my 22 year old sewing machine. I know, I know, I could get a brand new one with tons more features for under $100 at Wal Mart. But I don't want a brand new cheap sewing machine. I want my awesome old one fixed. The problem is that I want it fixed for free. Or partially free anyway. It's not that I'm against paying for repairs. Heck, I'd even spend more than what that cheap Wal Mart machine costs just to get this one fixed if I had to. But see...I don't think I should have to. Here is the warranty that I received with my machine 22 years ago. I also have the official proof of purchase certificate that came with it. And yes, I do realize how bizarre it is that I still have these things. The way I read it, if anything on my machin...

I'm giving away a couple of smash book/daybook/junk journals over on YouTube since that's where I've been spending most of my time lately. Well, there and in my art room. I've been making these kind of journals like a crazy woman but I'm not actually using them for myself so I guess they'll end up on Etsy pretty soon. Want to win one?  Here's what you need to do: 1. Go subscribe to my YouTube channel. 2. Find the video called "200 Subscriber Giveaway" or something pretty close to that. 3. Watch the video then leave comment. Easy, right? I made the process as simple as possible since I myself have trouble following all the hoops that some people make you jump through just to enter a silly drawing. If you are an advanced free giveaway enter-er, then you can follow these next advanced instructions for an additional chance to win one of the journals: 4. After you leave a comment on the video, then leave a comment on this blog post and mention in it...

Gird your loins, I'm about to rant. In case you haven't noticed, I'm one of those crafty types. Not crafty as in sly (well, maybe sometimes) but crafty as in paint and hot glue and stuff like that. I can't pinpoint the exact time when I discovered I was crafty, but I can remember my sister and I spending hours and hours melting colorful taper candles and crayons onto empty Chianti bottles, wine bottles, soda bottles and whatever almost empty booze bottles we could pilfer from the family liquor cabinet. My mother didn't mind because it kept us occupied and out of her hair. We kept the mess confined to a table we set up in the sunroom which made Mom happy since she tended to get cranky when we made huge messes that the maid would have to clean up. My parents were (and still are) heavy smokers so we had an endless supply of matches, lighters and other incendiaries. I was 11, my sister 8 and my mother was oblivious. Over the years I've had some of the best artsy/cra...

This blog post isn't about literary porn nor is it about mustard. I just thought that would make an awesome title for a blog post and wanted to use it before I forgot about it. I've been neglecting my little blog lately because I was obsessing over making a series of really bad craft videos on YouTube which you can make fun of on my YouTube Channel . I was surprised to find that I really like making them but editing pretty much sucks. And it's not like I'm using Final Cut or anything but even the basic little video editor that comes preloaded on a Mac is tedious. I just spent the last week and a half visiting friends and family in Texas and Louisiana. It was very enjoyable for the most part (I hate driving). I won't bore you with details or mention inappropriate things like how the highlight of my trip was when me and my sister helped to birth the blackhead beast that was living on my mom's back. If you're squeamish, look away now. Picking at each other like...

Did you ever do something that you knew was wrong before you did it but you did it anyway because you really, really wanted to do it? Of course you have. We all have. I just did it again a minute ago. But in my situation I felt like this particular wrong was only half wrong since there was a lot of right about it too. In fact, I actually think the right outweighs the wrong so I probably did more right than wrong and that's pretty much the best we can strive for in this life, right? In fact I am so convinced of the rightness of my actions that I feel comfortable talking about them on the internet which I probably wouldn't do if I truly felt like I had done something wrong because we tend to hide those things. Then again, I guess this is sort of a confession which I wouldn't feel compelled to do if I didn't think that at least part of what I did was wrong. Right? Damn you Jiminy Cricket! So what did I do that was so wrong but oh so right? I stole some stuff out of my neig...

The yard guys came this afternoon and for the 3rd week in a row I watched them blow the dead twigs into a corner in the backyard and leave them there. When Oscar came to the door for his money I took him into the backyard and told him that I watch his guys through the window every week and I've seen them blow the twigs into the corner and walk away. I asked him to please see that they are picked up and he was enthusiastically agreeable. At least I think he was, we have that language barrier thing going on. Satisfied that I had handled the situation with a good balance of firmness and kindness, I came back inside, sat down at my computer desk in the kitchen and ate a piece of cold pizza from yesterday. Jayson was watching TV with his deaf guy earphones on and Taylor was at the barn so the house was peacefully quiet. I heard a noise coming from the direction of the front door but I ignored it since it's been lightly raining off and on today and the wind picks up sometimes. About ...