For full disclosure’s sake, I still have Bunny Chocolate leftover since Easter. This evening I’ll have a few bites of this Reindeer instead ;-)
Ever wondered of a DIY method to have patterned concrete that fits a tight budget? I’ll share a little secret of how you can get it done in no time and basically for free. Take notes, it’s complicated!
For all intended purposes, it’s best to do this in the evening:
– Mix concrete according to specifications on the packaging.
– Pour concrete wherever needed.
– Smoothen it out carefully until it looks perfect.
– Watch it like a hawk for about an hour, then go work on something else for a while.
– By the time you come back you’ll have the perfect paw print patterns in it courtesy of curious, but very helpful cats.
For the fullest effect it helps to have three cats so the pattern will come out looking more random and with different paw print sizes.
– Note: it probably works just as well with dogs if you’d like to have a pattern of bigger paw prints.
Sometimes I do things I may later wish to kick myself for, but which turn out funny enough to share. So here goes, a few notes to myself you can take a peek at –>
- The result of adding: bookshelf + mom’s "help" + my toe = sooo not a good idea! I’m perfectly capable of injuring myself on my own, so don’t ask my mother for help again! Ever! EVER!
- Disregard inner clock while reading at night (or I might just end up going to bed after 3 AM every morning).
- Making the cat swallow her medicine is so much easier at the vet – she isn’t too scared to move (nor bite, nor scratch, etc.) at home!
- Just because the crosswalk light is green it doesn’t mean that guy in the tuned up car making half the city listen to his music also got the memo.
- Having glasses does not equal with seeing in the dark. On the contrary…
PS: I’ve fallen in love with Bookshelf Porn
Okay, so I wanted to come up with something amazingly funny, and witty, and impressive to sweep everyone off their feet… but that’s just not happening today. So bear with me please.
I woke up at 6 AM this morning to go the eye doctor’s after my appointment magically disappeared in December and I was forced to reschedule for today.
Found out that I do in fact need glasses *sarcastic Yay*.
It’s been fun though as the eye doctor’s resident started flirting with me. Hmmm… so I do have beautiful eyes *winks*
The fact that I’m functioning on little to no sleep, again, really isn’t that safe for anyone around me. Had a cappuccino this afternoon which hasn’t had the searched for effect.
Sometimes a cappuccino will turn me into something like Tessa here. And then there are these other times, like today, when it’s all for nothing and I end up grumpier, and believe it or not, more tired than as if I stayed up all night.
I’m definitely a puzzle even to myself *sigh*
Oh, just got distracted by something shiny! Hope your day went much better!
I know, I’ve been spending way too much time tweaking my business blog’s new theme, but I’ll just post a quick thought over here.
Okay, so I’ve noticed this a long time ago, way before I had my blog and since I just remembered: I’m wondering…
How do people in the movie industry replace characters? Based on what? Shouldn’t one try and find someone very similar looking to the original actor?
I saw the first Mystery Woman movie and a while after that a few of the following ones and the difference is eye striking.
Why did they replace one of the main characters with an actor who so obviously looks nothing like the original actor?
It’s a mystery :P
In the first movie, Ian Philby is played by actor J.E. Freeman. In the rest of the movies, Ian Philby is played by actor Clarence Williams III. Both great actors, I’m not contesting that but strictly from replacement viewpoint.
I couldn’t find a normal photo of each of them separately, but the movie posters will do.
Can you spot the differences? ;)
Just an observation… :)
Given how last week was one of the most tiresome weeks of this year, I noticed a few things and remembered a few other things too, which are funny enough for me to share.
Here goes, I know I’m tired when I:
- answer my personal cell while at home with the line “Hello, flower shop X this is Estrella speaking, how may I help you?”
- measure a cup of plaster and instead of pouring it into the mixing bowl, I fill up the water cup with it
- search for the tea kettle in the bedroom, kitchen and pantry for a good 15 minutes before looking for it in the sink, which I passed at least 10 times during the big search
- read worms (râme) instead of frames (rame) on an ad board…
So… there’s my confession of the day.
How do you know you’re tired? Any similarly funny signs to share?
I promise, it will stay between us! ;)
PS: I know, I totally disregarded my posting schedule this week, but like I’ve said on Monday, I’ll be back to following the usual schedule starting next week.
Already working on my posts and great craft project for Tuesday :)
I’ve never been known as a clumsy person.
Then again, if you really think about it, it’s not that hard to injure yourself.
The world is full of obstacles; wet floors, stairs, sweet “Let me just crawl under your feet so you can avoid stepping on me while I’m laughing my whiskers off!” kind of cats…
But on Monday…
I met up with a neighbor at the main flat entrance and held the door open for him while he carried out a bag of clothes.
I then urged another neighbor’s dog to come in and go up home. She came into the hallway, but thought she’d stall for a bit; I think she knew what was coming!
Our neighbor had piles of stuff laying around at the entrance; I had my coat, purse, keys and a folder in my hands.
Well… let’s just say it wasn’t a “Hey, Estrella, that’s a flat surface, it might be just a tad tricky to walk on” kind of episode, but the singlehandedly proving the laws of physics with a “Darn, these sunglasses work wonders in the dark!” kind of revelation while trying to pick myself up from right before our apartment door and crawling out of the box of stuff our considerate neighbor left in the very center of the unlighted hallway.
I was torn between laughing at myself and the sheer hilarity of the situation, or crying cause my hand really hurt, and looked around; the dog was looking at me attentively while I though to myself “Lassie would’ve warned me…”
My fiancé’s reaction (after being properly concerned): “You should learn how to hop properly, my bunny…”
I’m fine now, several ice sessions later my hand is only slightly swollen, only hurts at strain and is starting to turn into my personal hands-on upside-down map of Africa ;)