Author Archives: tinazombina

Organize your sheet sets!

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Chachachanges…

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The last day of December I started to experience a welling of excitement. The idea of a new year, WHOLE NEW YEAR, it seemed like a great time to embrace changes that have happened from age and time and work those changes towards health and happiness.  I set my sights on lessening our financial burdens, I set my sights on obtaining health. I am not sickly, I just feel off. I also set my sights on feeling better about how I look.

I’ve struggled my whole life with weight. It’s been more up than down. I few years ago I began to lose weight and exercise, eating well on a decent schedule.  The weight came down, but then the motivation to continue waned as the left over skin I developed was depressing and sad. I haven’t regained the weight, but I haven’t worked as hard as I could’ve knowing how much more skin I’d have to deal with.

As part of the whole package to wealth, health, happiness with self, I jumped into a new journey with It Works! Global. I dug in as a distributor as well as a customer. I am putting this out here to hold myself accountable and if I peak your interest in a journey all your own then that is awesome. I get my wraps and greens and the journey will begin in about a week. I will include before and after pictures every step. I need health, I need personal satisfaction, I need financial relief. I want you to see the changes and want them for yourself. Please stay tuned as my cocoon opens and I learn to fly.

 

Please follow this link to see what it’s all about. http://t-rister.myitworks.com/

 

 

 

Colors Galore… fiber love.

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This is my newest dyes. They’re all available if you find one you want. I don’t have the paypal feature quite figured out for use on here, but I have paypal available.  I will quote shipping based on location. Bare with me, this will all be easier to purchase as I learn. ❤ I want to also say, these fibers, all but the faux cashmere, felt wonderfully. Faux cashmere does not felt.

Coffin up the Skate tricks…

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Once I have it set in my head, a vision of something of extreme cool possibility, I don’t quit until I get what I see in my head. My son before he was a bike rider was a skater, boards are expensive and they’re run of the mill… in my opinion.  My husband and I made a pattern and set out cutting this out of a board blank (you can order them online) then I went to creative town and sketched out a sugar skully and then wood burned it, stained and voila, my sons custom skate board with “Luv Yo Mutha” wheels. The damned trucks and wheels were more than the board, times 2.  I love the result and so did he. ❤

Baby Shower Center Piece

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Baby Shower Center Piece

When my daughter got pregnant with our grand daughter my head exploded, at first with the woah, then with all the creative things I could get away with now! I threw the baby shower, I ordered girly pirate decorations, with little girl skulls and pink and black, very much my daughter. I had pink, black, white and silver balloons, large silver confetti thrown on the tables… normal stuff. I love flowers, but they’re expensive, I wanted to soften the pirate theme a little as well. I also have been a mom to three babies and so one thing I knew is they go through a lot of socks. One of her gifts from me was an ass ton of socks. After I had put my thinker on I figured it was redundant to have like 6 packages of socks wrapped so I opened a few packages,my best friend got in on the rolling socks action too, we took skewer sticks and floral tape, rolled the socks from toes to opening and taped around the stick to hold in shape. I then stuffed into a fake floral arrangement to dress it up and make it interesting, they served as center pieces then afterwards socks for days. It was cute and easy. baby shower center pieceI never thought I’d have a blog, so pictures I took seem to come up crummy these days. They’re older pictures, never thought to be used to be seen by anyone but maybe me and my small circle, I hope it still depicts how cute the idea is. ❤

Strap it up and roll that beat!

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Even though I am show casing my handy work at the guitar strap design, I am sharing how and why it all came about, succinctly.  I know it’s a crappy picture. It was a long time ago and I can’t really just snap another right now. I’ll try to coax a moment with it and re-shoot the image(s).

I met a man through my best friend about 7 years ago now. My first experience with him, was spent enamored by his talent. Halloween party, we’re all drunk and having a good time. Beck scoops up a guitar and strums a tune that he free styles custom lyrics to the situation at hand. He didn’t suck. It was a good time. People like Beck have a drawing quality. Men and women alike are drawn to him, now not in every case as he has his turmoils and struggles, we can’t please everyone, but Beck is a special person.

My relationship and love for Beck honestly started through my best friend. Her love and respect and loyal concern for him catches on, consequently, I have full reason to believe this is the same means in which he learned he loves us too. Beck had a birthday and it was his 30th, special damned birthday. My family was invited to his bonfire fun fest birthday bash which for me struck panic and anxiety, I don’t have a gift, I try to never go empty handed, my husband and I were raised it’s rude to show to an invited event empty handed. So I set out connecting to my spirit, it’s the most creative side of me.

Beck doesn’t have it all, but he kind of does. He can get what ever he wants, he’s a worker. He’s not afraid of the burn of muscles tearing and growing, he’s not afraid of the challenge of a fight, of hard work, he really does have it all. So what the hell could I gift him that he couldn’t do on his own? Him, his being, seen through those that love him, stitched out and quilted together into a guitar strap. Each patch represents something about him that stands out. Parts of the fabric from his past, pieces cut from friends clothing that they wore while… blah blah blah, whatever story, I stitched it all out and erected Becks hieroglyphic strap.  It’s been a long ass time since then, and I still  love Beck, my husband is equally in love with him. It’s hard to find people with a spirit that doesn’t rub yours wrong. In terms of his strap, I don’t think I could top the gift to him, he values it immensely. If his ever gives up the ghost, he knows where to have another one designed. ❤

Paper Plate Cherry Blossoms

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Paper plate cherry blossoms!What do you give someone you love when flowers apply but they’re allergic to flowers? You create an alternative. I had some paper plates, I had crayons, I have a marker and I had scissors. I drew out a basic cherry blossom shape on paper plates and then colored them with crayon all over, the lines don’t matter because you’re cutting the flowers out. Once all your flowers are cut out you get wooden skewer sticks and tape or hot glue the sticks to the back of the flower. The picture shows them in a stein to show the end result of the flower. But what my family and I ended up doing… we sneaked onto my best friends yard, which her dogs is insane when he hears a noise and would have given us away! So we very quietly sneaked and stuck the sticks into her lawn, planting flowers all over her yard. With all the sneaking we couldn’t get pictures of the planted flowers. Then we sneaked away like predators and waited for a call of what the hell to commence. Lol. When the call came, my friend was in tears and laughing and taking it all in that we did that for her. We love her.  It took a little bit of time and she really enjoyed it. It’s not about spending a lot of money for a gift worth giving. She’ll never forget the surprise of dozens of giant cherry blossoms in her yard. The flowers themselves fade away. I think it was a winner!

Nevermore Shadow light box

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“And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted – nevermore!”

 

 

 

My daughter and I are hardcore Poe fans. I love his writings. I made this shadow light box for my daughter. Homemade paper that I saved from another project which I will include in another post… Look for my book box.  I made the paper, cut the image out on glittered foam sheets. I began layering the image down then the special paper. My husband helped me make a window pane grid inside and I stuffed tulle for a funky eerie light effect, then a small strand of clear white Christmas lights. It can be hung or sat on a table or shelf, be lit or unlit. I don’t remember where I got the image, but I do not take credit for image design, I just take credit for it’s use here. ❤

Hystery – One ladies challenge with her vagina

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I am writing this and front streeting myself in hopes of inner healing. If even one of you relate and find hope or laughter in this, thank you! There is hope after the hysterectomy, even for crazies like me.

In 2002, at 30 years old, my 30th birthday in fact, I had a radical hysterectomy with a burch, some bladder mesh that held my bladder in place.  Prior to the hysterectomy I had 3 viable pregnancies resulting in beautiful babies and several miscarriages.  After my youngest baby was born I did the typical breast feeding, I didn’t have my period during any of my nursing months. When he began weening my period started and it was unusual in its heaviness but I processed it was probably the pregnancy and nursing junk now working it’s way out. Ignorant.

I suppose it was about 2 months before my husband was worried enough that he quit nudging me to go in and began forcing the issue. Good thing too. During that time my husband was coming out of the army, and coming out jacked up with a pretty bad back injury. He was traveling to Roseburg Oregon and back home to Medford pretty often via the VA shuttle, where he was undergoing tests and assessments and the like until he had to travel to Washington State to Fort Lewis and have lower back surgery. We opted to drive ourselves there.  I am throwing this all in there as this is what lead to my life changing event.  So we drove to Washington and checked me into a long term hotel unit since we were going to be there for a week or so. On the way I was fine, I had no period, I had just come off of one so I was left to assume I’d be okay for at least 3 weeks but certainly this week.  I was not prepared.  My husband got checked into the hospital the morning after we arrived and under went surgery everything went as expected. He was in and out of sleep and so I left him for the night to get his rest and went back to my hotel. I had a quiet evening mostly barring the crazies of Tacoma in the extended stay hotel on Hosmer.  I woke up sometime in the wee hours of the morning for the bleary eyed stumble to the bathroom I took notice that I have began to show signs of having my period, there is pink, but I JUST had my period. *sigh*  I did the toilet paper panty liner action and prayed I would be ok until familiar places had open shops to meet my needs. I went back to bed and was fine until morning.

Once I had my girl goodies to cover my period issue it was back to my husband and visiting him. Which was always interesting. Speaking to a person twacked out on morphine takes patience and understanding, lol he said crazy stuff. In between when I wasn’t with him he’d call me, pissed, wondering why I was never there to see him, he totally never remembered, even the nurses had to remind him I was there… over and over. Morphine, uhg. Once my husband was mobile enough it was time to gather him and begin our trek home.  The first night out of the hospital, we stayed in the same room for the night.  His instructions were to get up and walk every 20 to 30 minutes. He had to get up and move.

Heading home the next morning we had to pull over every 20 minutes for him to get out of the van and move, the road was hurting him, sitting was hurting and he was supposed to move every 20 minutes or so, so we pulled over and moved.  The issue with that is that I was in a single position sitting and my period was at this point VERY heavy, alarmingly so. When I would stand to walk with him and make sure he’s ok, my flow would take over and I’d make a scary mess, dripping down my legs clothes soaked mess. We’d walk and load up and make it to a rest stop and I’d clean up and change and do my thing and he’d wait for me to walk with him again. This was the pattern every stop. I should point out that this point I was bleeding so heavily I was having to wear a tampon AND a pad or there was a mess within 10 instead of 20.  We made it back to Oregon FINALLY after all day driving and stopping and decided to stay in a hotel for the night and rest, I was out of clean clothes, he was hurting.

During our stay In Wilsonville Oregon we decided to stop and peruse the Fry’s electronics store, walking into the store I made such a mess that I was being stared at like I am not ok. I turned, got clean clothes, cleaned up and we went to the hotel for the night. Super stupid I couldn’t even be in public for more than 20 minutes.

We spent the evening resting and I did laundry. The next day we took off for home, at one of the rest stops, there is some old man wearing overalls, he was salt and pepper beard and just a scruffamuffin. He had a dog, my husband and I were walking and it’s at an incline so he’s struggling and it’s hurting. He’s also laughing, but in between his “ow” you wouldn’t have understand him laughing, as an outsider. Why is he laughing? Same reason as me, the old man scruffamuffin had his dog, or was it? Who knows, the dog had  the head of a normal sized dog;  in fact a smaller dog and the body of a pig, a GIANT fat body, frankendog. Someone took the head from a lap dog and stuffed it into the neck of a pig. Well, the man only heard me laughing, and my husband “owing” which elicited the response from the old man “Bitch” to me. Which only got us laughing harder and owing harder, because he assumed I was laughing at my poor broke back husband when the truth is, we were laughing at his pog. Yes, I said pog.  Oh, funny.

Fast forwarding, we’re home, husband is mobile and recovering well. My period is still an issue and it’s every 3 weeks and for 3 weeks, my husband is forcing now, so I go in and start to see what’s happening.  I found out I have PCOS, poly cystic ovarian syndrome, my thyroid went to the dumpers and that all explained why: my skin changed, my hair started falling out, my exhaustion was all the time, and extreme sudden weight gain, it even explained some of the heavy bleeding. The heavy bleeding was from something else I can’t remember, I blocked out some of what I was going through and still I don’t think it matters, it’s a none issue now, a new set of things to stay aware of. Anyway, something else caused that, there was a lot of scarring and irritation.

My regular physician referred me to a gyno and so we went, underwent tests and biopsies. Within weeks I was in for surgery, which I was still protesting, I am being told that I am bleeding to death through my vagina and I still thought I’d recover and it would go away and I would be normal. This wasn’t the case. I was sick, I needed help. Biopsy came back with no cancer, but showed signs of developing cancer in my cervix. I was left the option of leaving my cervix or having it go too, being told it’s at risk for cancer seemed stupid to keep it, and, I had this funky vision in my head of my cervix having nothing to back it up would feel like a floppy tongue inside, which is really gross, I do not want a floppy tongue inside for my husband to discover. Whack it out!

Surgery went fine, it was quick *shrugs* I guess that’s good. I didn’t want him dipping around in my insides all afternoon so quick was fine.  I hit a funky sassy mouth depression about having my girl parts taken from me, as though  some how it was every ones fault, and I was on morphine so I am sure it was only stupid to them, to me I felt this was good stuff I’m saying.   Then it was sort of over, I stayed a night or two in the hospital, twacked out on morphine and running midnight marathons in my dreams and calling my husband flustered that he’s late for the race and we’re going to lose.

I don’t know why it was so hard for me to catch up to what was going on. I got home and my family, husband and children were all supportive. I slept a lot of course, I just had major surgery and on major medication. My youngest was just over a year, my husband still home on his recovery was there a lot, my daughter was a team player and acted as mom many times for our baby. She kept him from crawling on me and stuff. Sadly I needed her to do that. My husband was limited on what he could lift, our son was over a year and over the limit, so my daughter did a lot of the lifting for us for that summer. I love you sissy bear! Always!

My mom, this is where my pitiful life meets healing. I am going to delve into why I am crazy.  Rabbit trail but this will all tie in; When I was 14 my mother had a hysterectomy. I don’t exactly know why, but she had one. THAT was a pivotal moment, my mother was never the same. She kind of mentally tilted. I don’t know why. Just that it did. My mother opted to have her hysterectomy done vaginally, meaning there was no incision, no scar, just a haggered looking mangled vagina for a while after, just saying.  My mom had to have a heat lamp applied to her cooter 3 times a day. My dad tried to help her, once. -.- Do you know what that meant? Mmhmm, I had to step in and be the Palm Springs for my moms vagina. Her blood stank, surgery hole. 3 times a day, for weeks. Help my mom heal. So I was naturally under the impression that when I had my surgery, one that didn’t require Palm Springs sunning on my cooter, my mom would be johnny on the spot to help me recover. Help my family stay a float. Hell naw, she came to see me once in the hospital and rejected my every plea for her to come help me, she couldn’t take her pills later. She couldn’t leave my dad to pour his own glass of tea, which he was capable. My mom just couldn’t make it happen.

I was already wigging out about the surgery thinking that if my mom went crazy, I might too. I was stressed to the max about this.  I needed my mom, I needed A mom. If this is your story too, I am sorry. You will make it, you’re strong, I know you are, if you’re mom tends to be more absent than present, you’re independent and strong and you’ll be alright.   Moving on, so yeah my mom was in herself and I suffered a bit. The surgery the reason for the surgery, it all just took a mental and physical toll on me.  I got stronger and pushed through, two weeks post surgery I went school clothes shopping and got out in the public. I remember thinking of nothing but the surgery while shopping, people smiling and talking to me, I just wanted to cry and tell them I JUST LOST MY WOMANHOOD, but it wouldn’t make sense. So I silently wandered in the blank crazy medicated stare. It was at the mall so perhaps I just blended in, zing!

My body started to acclimate to my new normal. Since then I’ve gotten cool with the idea of my girl goodies being gone. No more planning if you know what I mean. My stresses are different but so am I. I still struggle with some of the emotional crap that went along with that time, talking about it, in this case blogging helps.  So hsyter sisters and misters of hyster sisters understand, you’re body is different, your mind will follow and it is temporary, mostly, the changes all smooth out. The worst and most lasting negative effect is my sex drive isn’t as strong. That all works out too. ❤