Time Machine

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    So I recently was passed down this Sears Electric Type Writer, by my lovely grandmother. I had been intrigued by them for sometime now. I love the concept that this was a start to computers and this is the branch that held the fruit for engineering of the desktop. I have always been in love with the past, and all its niftiness. Like film the look and grain of the picture is more intriguing then a I-phone picture. So when it comes to writing, I like how personal a hand written letter is. There is more thought and effort and its your own lettering and not the basic blocky letters. then to take a step away from the computer and look at something before its time is something a little less distracting. A more intimate way of writing, with no pop ups of Facebook messages, like when you decide to look at Facebook you become side tracked. With the type writer your taking your thoughts by grasp each second they are handed to you, your writing becomes more focused. I cant tell you how many papers I had gotten back with you seemed to have lost interest through the middle. Yeah because well I was online shopping during half of it. So I am going to venture down my grandparents and parents memory lane and maybe learn something or find something interesting. 

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So as you can tell there is a little dust on the keys, but I intend to not let that happen anymore, For I will be exploring this outlet of writing. 

 

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First thing typed- Morgan Smith is the Cats Meow.The Bees Knees. 

Snow Bunny

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“The eskimos had Fifty-two names for snow because it was important to them: there ought to be as many for love. “- Margaret Atwood

Today My Sister who is featured here (@barefootedkid on Instagram) and I explored the woods with a more fashionista approach while freezing off our britches. To say the least the snow won that battle very quickly, turning our teas cold way to fast for our southern hands. Cold hands warm heart right? Well we headed right back inside to get properly dressed and head to the slopes aka… Our neighborhood hill. Everyone enjoy the weather! Wether it be cold or rays of sunshine:) 

Have a stellar day rock on and shine on 

xoxo,

Scooby

 

Your Style

 Ive learned in the world of fashion you have to have an opinion. You need to know where you stand on the latest designers, trending colors and your own personal style. To have a style is to unnoticeably but very noticeably state your opinin. Style is an unspoken reference of who we are as people. With color we can express a feeling or mood we are having that day. The unique science of being able to translate ourself through a fiber. Going into the new year I want to renovate my style and mold it more closely to who I am as a person.

One less present to wrap

 

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This year and like every year I somehow managed to be wrapping my gifts for everyone on christmas eve. While I should be down stairs sipping on hot chocolate and baking santa some home made cookies. I tend to catch the ending part of all the festivities. As I have aged I realized that the adults were drunk 75% of the time. I find it humorous because I now, know how they managed to sit through my cousins and I’s little christmas plays we put on, which were very long and had no plot. And how they were laughing at our sad very sad jokes… “what do you call santa clause in a elevator?” – answer “Clausestrophobic”. The one thing I never missed out on though was when my grandpa was having me sneak me and him sugar cookies. He was diabetic and me I was simply never finishing my meals and filling up on sugar. My pa looked like santa clause, so especially around christmas his excuse was “he was a relative of santa”. Which I by no means was trying to make the naughty list. My pa always called me sugar, partly because I was sweet and most times full of cookies aka sugar. My pa was a lot like the spirit of santa, White hair and beard and a little belly. Mostly he resembled santa with his actions of giving and being jolly and warm with his smile. I would tell kids at my school I knew santa personally, that my pa had to be him. So every year I try to not be sadden by the fact that he’s gone but happy I had the time I had with him.  To dwell in something and not live the life that is going on before you is like waiting in the rain waiting for the storm to pass. whether your ready or not life is still occuring. I’ve learn my pa wouldn’t want me to be sad but enjoy all of life’s moments ahead of me. This very particular moment being christmas. This will be the fifth christmas I will be wrapping one less present and each time I realize how grateful I am for my everyone. Ive learned to take all of the positive traits of my grandfather and continue them on through out my daily journey through life. So this christmas I keep him close and remember everything he taught me through his actions of giving. 

Meow

Meow

The Funny thing is I hate cats, I really do.. Maybe the only cat I every liked was simon on Sabrina the teenage witch. I think Its real cats that really get to me and throw me to africa and back in less then two point two seconds… I guess It could of al started when I found out I was allergic to them, Or the cat in Cinderella ( my favorite princess) was so awful to her, Or the time I saw the cat I was watching get trucked by a car. Yep, Yep that would do it! I think that cats can probably sense my fear so they pry on that with their beady eyes and knifes for paws… Or that cat that died used one of its nine lives and came back and told every cat to kill me.. Yeah I dont Like cats they can go to hell!
So your probably now stating in your mind one Im an absolute idiot, hypocrite, who continues to wear cats?
I think their rather fashionable, I mean I cant wear a dead cat so why not wear a fake one and pretend its fake.
Like every women with a foe-fur:0
I even bought a shirt once because the cat looked like it was dead because it was upside down on its back:)
Im not morbid Im just honest. Just call me the Cruella Deville of cats!