Sunday, July 31, 2011
Picnik Program
I just made this through picassa directing me through the picnic program, this is pretty sweet!
Please keep in mind the word collages are mine, as well as all the photos on this blog don't take credit for them yourself.
Post its!
These two things are both made out of the simple polyhedral piece.
The first - Moving Cubes:
This one is 90 units. This is made out of 3X3 post its (the super sticky kind unfortunately they made it harder to fold the pieces because the sticky would tear the paper.)
This next one is made out of the same units, it is 120 units and is made out of 2X2 post it notes. (My mother doesn't buy post its unless they are odd shapes now because this is what happens to them...)
The first - Moving Cubes:
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| First make 16 cubes |
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| hook them together (this is harder than it looks) make sure they are opposites |
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| Build |
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| Make them move |
This next one is made out of the same units, it is 120 units and is made out of 2X2 post it notes. (My mother doesn't buy post its unless they are odd shapes now because this is what happens to them...)
Home Sweet Home
I haven't posted in quite a while, partially because I have been busy, partially because I can't keep up and most importantly, I feel like I have made some topics too trite. Some days I have been busy as heck, but I spend most nights enjoying my family and the outdoors. Even though the silence has been broken by the gas wells... Sounds like money. But thats for another day.
Home is where we run to. Everyone has a place they call home, whether it be under the bridge in the park for some less fortunate, a broken down farm house or a mansion. Home is where we feel safe, or at least as safe as ever. No one has a perfect family life, or family for that matter. In a way everyone's family is perfectly dysfunctional. If we all have nothing else in common it is that not one of us has a perfect life, we all consider people to be family and related or not, its dysfunctional.
Our families, or our "adopted" families will make us cry, scream and annoyed, but if we count them as family in our mind they still matter. Most of us have individuals related to us we do not bother to claim, yet they are constantly affecting our lives.
I go to school some 300 miles away from my home, I am always in a hurry to leave, but I also love coming back. About a week before I come home, after I have been gone for a month or so, I get into a mood where I will listen to almost nothing but country music. As a child, I hated country, my parents would listen to nothing else. As I got older and could listen to whatever I want, I mix a bit of country in with a bit of screamo and a lot of alternative. I love music, and I enjoy a good mix, although it makes the volume impossible to deal with when playing that much of a mix.
When I was asked what my dream car was a couple years ago, I replied by telling them I wanted a red pick-up. No one understood why really, but it is me. My favorite color is red, and through and through, I am a country girl. I live in a region with four very distinct seasons, and each has a very distinct purpose. As kids, we were always helping on the dairy farm my grandfather used to have. He sold his cows, but we continue to do the hay. Until a few weeks ago we had some offspring from cows from his farm. As kids my sisters and I were never taught a girls place was in the house, despite my grandparents very traditional ways and my father following the role. We were taught and raised to think we were able to work just as hard as any guy, and we were expected to at least try. Well I might not be able to lift as much as most guys, my brother can outwork me any day, but for being no bigger than I am, I put up a pretty good fight.
A friend I have known for many years was asked what she planned on doing this summer by girl from the city, when she replied with a male oriented job that required manual labor, the girl was dumbfounded why a girl would need to do such things. This friend, told her that "girls have arms too."
A few years ago, I was invited to go hang out with a friend, well later it was decided he needed to go help do some hay and I was invited to go along. I agreed, I had been helping do hay since I was about 6, this wasn't anything scary. I went, and was helping unload the first wagon load, where I made the comment the bales were awfully light, needless to say I was informed the bales I was talking about were actually pretty heavy compared to the rest. There were a bunch of guys running around, about my age and under, and only the older man I was with and my friend I went with managed to keep up with me very well, but most of the guys were working extra hard to try to impress me.
This summer was not a whole lot different. My grandfather is no longer able to help do any hay really because of medical issues. My friends I used to be able to get to help I am either out of touch with or they are no longer around, and my brother is gone. My dads brother, helped out quite a bit, and my dad did most of the field work. A few people stopped in to help a day each or so.
One older gentlemen, is definitely up in age. He wasn't the biggest help which my uncle was complaining about, but I reminded him any help was better than none, so I was not complaining. I didn't care if the help only handled three bales out of the whole day, that was three less I had to. We put away about 3,000 bales in four days. It was insane. Well this older gentlemen, had made the comment to my uncle I was working him to death and we laughed about it. Later he told me that I was a pretty dang good worker. I kinda shrugged him off and he told me he was serious, and that some day I would make someone a pretty good wife. I kind of laughed, and he told me I would make an excellent wife for some lazy man. I really laughed this time, and told the guy that I wouldn't even think about dating a guy who couldn't out work me, let alone marry one. He laughed and told me that they at least should keep up with me, so I guess he is right there.
I was informed by someone I consider a good friend that I should never settle for a lazy man and that I should marry a farmer because I am definitely a farm girl. I really laughed at this for a few reasons. One being I don't have any job requirements in mind for a future boyfriend or husband, I just want to be happy and want them to be happy. My other reasonings seem to be much more complicated, such as I don't even like anyone new, I don't need to chase a guy and I don't care to plan that far ahead yet.
Recently, I went somewhere with my father and an adopted family member of ours, and apparently picked up somewhat of an admirer. I do have to ask why I am so noticeable when I don't care to find anyone?
Pretty much though? I hate being home sometimes, I live in the country and there is not a whole lot to do, I value having a vehicle, and I really don't mind the work, but being lazy at school is a vacation from home sometimes. But, I am born and raised a country girl, and I will forever be one, at least in my heart.
 | |
| Peace |
Home is where we run to. Everyone has a place they call home, whether it be under the bridge in the park for some less fortunate, a broken down farm house or a mansion. Home is where we feel safe, or at least as safe as ever. No one has a perfect family life, or family for that matter. In a way everyone's family is perfectly dysfunctional. If we all have nothing else in common it is that not one of us has a perfect life, we all consider people to be family and related or not, its dysfunctional.
 | |
| this is what we call country |
Our families, or our "adopted" families will make us cry, scream and annoyed, but if we count them as family in our mind they still matter. Most of us have individuals related to us we do not bother to claim, yet they are constantly affecting our lives.
 |
| chaos is beauty |
I go to school some 300 miles away from my home, I am always in a hurry to leave, but I also love coming back. About a week before I come home, after I have been gone for a month or so, I get into a mood where I will listen to almost nothing but country music. As a child, I hated country, my parents would listen to nothing else. As I got older and could listen to whatever I want, I mix a bit of country in with a bit of screamo and a lot of alternative. I love music, and I enjoy a good mix, although it makes the volume impossible to deal with when playing that much of a mix.
 |
| You don't see this in the city. |
When I was asked what my dream car was a couple years ago, I replied by telling them I wanted a red pick-up. No one understood why really, but it is me. My favorite color is red, and through and through, I am a country girl. I live in a region with four very distinct seasons, and each has a very distinct purpose. As kids, we were always helping on the dairy farm my grandfather used to have. He sold his cows, but we continue to do the hay. Until a few weeks ago we had some offspring from cows from his farm. As kids my sisters and I were never taught a girls place was in the house, despite my grandparents very traditional ways and my father following the role. We were taught and raised to think we were able to work just as hard as any guy, and we were expected to at least try. Well I might not be able to lift as much as most guys, my brother can outwork me any day, but for being no bigger than I am, I put up a pretty good fight.
A friend I have known for many years was asked what she planned on doing this summer by girl from the city, when she replied with a male oriented job that required manual labor, the girl was dumbfounded why a girl would need to do such things. This friend, told her that "girls have arms too."
A few years ago, I was invited to go hang out with a friend, well later it was decided he needed to go help do some hay and I was invited to go along. I agreed, I had been helping do hay since I was about 6, this wasn't anything scary. I went, and was helping unload the first wagon load, where I made the comment the bales were awfully light, needless to say I was informed the bales I was talking about were actually pretty heavy compared to the rest. There were a bunch of guys running around, about my age and under, and only the older man I was with and my friend I went with managed to keep up with me very well, but most of the guys were working extra hard to try to impress me.
This summer was not a whole lot different. My grandfather is no longer able to help do any hay really because of medical issues. My friends I used to be able to get to help I am either out of touch with or they are no longer around, and my brother is gone. My dads brother, helped out quite a bit, and my dad did most of the field work. A few people stopped in to help a day each or so.
One older gentlemen, is definitely up in age. He wasn't the biggest help which my uncle was complaining about, but I reminded him any help was better than none, so I was not complaining. I didn't care if the help only handled three bales out of the whole day, that was three less I had to. We put away about 3,000 bales in four days. It was insane. Well this older gentlemen, had made the comment to my uncle I was working him to death and we laughed about it. Later he told me that I was a pretty dang good worker. I kinda shrugged him off and he told me he was serious, and that some day I would make someone a pretty good wife. I kind of laughed, and he told me I would make an excellent wife for some lazy man. I really laughed this time, and told the guy that I wouldn't even think about dating a guy who couldn't out work me, let alone marry one. He laughed and told me that they at least should keep up with me, so I guess he is right there.
I was informed by someone I consider a good friend that I should never settle for a lazy man and that I should marry a farmer because I am definitely a farm girl. I really laughed at this for a few reasons. One being I don't have any job requirements in mind for a future boyfriend or husband, I just want to be happy and want them to be happy. My other reasonings seem to be much more complicated, such as I don't even like anyone new, I don't need to chase a guy and I don't care to plan that far ahead yet.
Recently, I went somewhere with my father and an adopted family member of ours, and apparently picked up somewhat of an admirer. I do have to ask why I am so noticeable when I don't care to find anyone?
 |
| and I sit at night and watch stars, not car lights |
Pretty much though? I hate being home sometimes, I live in the country and there is not a whole lot to do, I value having a vehicle, and I really don't mind the work, but being lazy at school is a vacation from home sometimes. But, I am born and raised a country girl, and I will forever be one, at least in my heart.
 |
| So these days, we are farming something a bit different, |
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| and I still am not afraid to get up close and personal |
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| I was pretty impressed with these shots, the flash does absolutely nothing to annoy the bees it seems. |
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