penny carnival

Summer art kick start

I'm late in wishing you all a happy summer solstice and Father's Day. Are there any dads out there? I recall getting comments on here once or twice from some men, but I just don't know if we have any regulars. If you're here, xoxo. I hope your yesterday was full of love and joy. 

I was too busy enjoying Father's Day with my dad and my husband yesterday to pour out my heart here, but my feelings about the two dads in my life haven't changed since last year. Thank you both for ... everything.

As for summer ... what summer? It's a stinkin' 60 degrees here today. Please put a reminder on your calendars for six months from now so you can smack me for complaining about 60 degrees. But c'mon. We want to go swimming! Bo keeps asking when it's going to get "hot, hot, hot." I need to remind myself that last June, it snowed. 

Our family has been in such a lovely rhythm lately. I can't explain what or why. Life is just ... nice. And simple. Hardly any TV. Lots of running, being outside, gardening and arts and crafting. 

One thing I did to make art happen more spontaneously was to move the girls' easel and paints outside. 

The other day I encouraged them to paint objects they saw in nature, and Bo came up with this:

An airplane, in case you can't tell. Our local airport recently started using its backup runway, so the air space above our backyard is getting lots of low-flying action. I'm sure some neighbors aren't thrilled, but I honestly love it. And Magpie definitely knows how to say "a-pane" now. 

Another nice thing about painting outside is that you don't have to worry about this:

Paint away, Baby. I'll blast you with the hose when you're done.

We took part in a parks and rec art class this morning, where Bo created this beach:

Instructions: paint a paper plate blue. Paint an empty toilet-paper tube brown. Brush glue onto one portion of the blue-covered plate (or the whole dang thing, if you're like Bo). Dust the gluey part with sand and seashells. Glue the brown tube down so it stands up like a tree. Add some green leaves to the tree. Viola! Puerta Vallarta on a plate.

They also made butterflies by painting coffee filters with watercolors then cinching them in the middle with short pipe cleaners, leaving the two ends of the pipe cleaners pointing up like antennae (or "antlers," as my niece Em calls them). They're cute. I'll add a photo later. I think our butterflies are trapped in the car right now.

Lastly today, an Etsy product endorsement. The prize money I won from Ohdeedoh a few months back for my book sling has been burning a hole in my PayPal account. I finally chipped away at it by buying a return-address stamp from a shop called RubberStampPress.

Mine looks just like this, but with my name and address--obviously.

It arrived so quickly, I didn't even have a chance to respond to my last e-mail from Kim, the talent behind the stamp. Isn't it great?! It is inspiring me to write some letters. Real letters. And maybe I should buy a bike, too.

Happy summer, everyone. Despite the chill here, my heart is warm and life is aglow with goodness. I hope yours is too.

Cookin' and bookin'

I'm almost four years into this parenting gig, and I still don't have a clue what I'm doing. Does anyone else feel this way sometimes? 

I guess I thought by now I'd kind of have things figured out. And, yes, there are days when I'm like, "Bring it on! Give me 10 more of these little muffins. I can take it." But a lot of the time I'm second guessing my decisions and thinking of better ways I could have handled a situation. In the meantime, another situation has presented itself, and I'm scrambling to do the right thing.

Don't get me wrong. Life is beautiful and all is well. I just never knew how much time would be dedicated to doing things that I hope will have a positive impact down the road without knowing for sure if they will. Parenting is the ultimate test of delayed gratification, I guess, especially when it comes to teaching values. How do I know if it's sinking in when we talk about kindness or taking care of the earth or each other? One minute, I think Bo is catching on. The next, she's bonking her sister over the head for taking a bite of her Cheerios. As if there aren't more Cheerios in the box. If there's one thing I've got, Kid, it's Cheerios.

At the same time, I'm bombarded with little moments of beauty and gratification all the time: Bo insisting on picking up litter and holding onto it until she finds a trash can (no matter how long that takes). Catching the girls giggling together without them knowing I'm there. The sweet touch of Magpie's hand when she strokes my shoulder from her perch in her backpack throughout an entire 3-mile walk.

One easy little thing we do--with an ulterior motive of instilling respect for nature--is to collect neat little bits from outside and display them on a "nature tray" on our dining room table. We go through phases where I'm more jazzed about doing this than the girls are. And then there are times when Bo is more than happy to rip a bunch of leaves off a tree and bring them inside for further inspection.

Right now, there's a pine cone, two sand dollars, and this in the tray:

What a great find over the weekend, huh? I admit I was a little scared a bee would coming crawling out of one of those hexagons, but it looks like the critters are long gone and now we're left behind with what I think is one of nature's really beautiful art installations. 

I once wrote an article about a man who brought all sorts of things from nature into his home. Mostly skulls, skeletons and big rocks. He had a display of about 15 different skulls of various animals, sitting from smallest (mouse) to biggest (I can't remember. A moose, maybe) in his entryway. In between there were things like raccoons and possums. That must sound really creepy, but believe me--it was lovely. And his four young children were very involved in finding treasures for the house--skulls and all.

FYI--Amanda Soule suggests creating a nature table in her book "The Creative Family." (By the way, can you hardly wait for this?)

Amanda is responsible for another project from our weekend--a photo memory book I made tonight for Bo. 

Bo's school is celebrating all the summer birthdays tomorrow and the parents usually bring in some sort of photo display of the kids' lives. I thought Bo would be excited to read a book about herself, so tomorrow's early birthday celebration was the perfect excuse to make one.

The photos are printed onto special fabric that runs through a regular computer printer. Packets of six sheets cost about $12 at JoAnn's--so use your 40 percent off coupon! I just used Word to arrange the pictures with some text about Bo's life. I wish I'd put more time into it. It truly was slopped together tonight. But I think Bo will like it just the same.

After printing on the special fabric, I cut around the photos and text and sewed them onto 8 x 12 pieces of fabric--all leftovers from dresses I've made Bo over the last four years--using a zigzag stitch. Then I sewed the 8 x 12 pieces to each other with a piece of flannel--taken from some of Bo's old receiving blankets--inside. I'm still trying to figure out how to bind the book since I've created quite a thick stack. For now, I just used three pieces of embroidery floss to connect all the "pages" by threading a needle and pushing the needle through all the thickness by hand, then tying it off. 

Ah! Update! It's 12:45 a.m. and Bo just woke up for a glass of water. She saw the book on the table and giggled her way through it. It's a hit.

Besides those two things, I wanted to share a new blog in my life. In Praise of Leftovers is written by Sarah Murphy-Kangas, a friend of mine from high school. I haven't seen Sarah in almost 20 years, but our moms bumped into each other recently and got to talking about their bloggin' daughters. 

Sarah's is a food blog, but--of course--it's a life blog, too. I think you'll enjoy her beautiful words and photography--not to mention the recipes. Tonight, I followed her instructions for a savory galette and it did not disappoint. What's a galette? Here's Sarah's definition:

A free-form tart. Roll out one disc of this easy dough, dump whatever you want in the middle (sweet or savory), fold the crust up around it, cook it for 30 minutes, be a goddess.

Here's my attempt at deification:

Forever in peace may she wave

I only had a chance to photograph one of my Farm Chicks treasures today, so the others will have to trickle onto the blog as the week progresses. But to start things off ...

Farm Chicks Find No. 1: A 48-star American flag for $40.

The stars and stripes are sewn on, by the way, not printed. 

Pardon the exposed hardware in the middle there. For now, I just draped the flag on nails already in the wall. And if you live in either Alaska or Hawaii, sorry. Forty-eight stars just looks so much cooler than 50.

I once saw an apartment in Elle Decor or some similar magazine that was completely bedecked in vintage American flags. It was one of the most unique and striking homes I'd ever seen featured in a magazine. The article popped into my head Saturday as I dug through a couple dozen old flags for sale by a vendor at the show.

So, sure, this is supposed to be an "art" statement, I guess. Or a decor statement, anyway. But people are often surprised to find out how patriotic I am. That's right. I usually cry during the National Anthem. 

I think most folks assume all journalists are shady, cynical creatures always on the prowl to uncover some government scandal. I would never define myself as cynical, though. Skeptical, yes. Not cynical. And most journalists I know are in the field because they're dedicated to things like honesty, keeping an accurate record of history, and exposing what's wrong in the world so that ignorance is diminished and solutions might be found. No one I know has ever shouted "gotchya!" after uncovering something damaging about another human being.

I believe that journalism is one of the most patriotic professions one can enter, actually. Without the "fourth estate"--the watchdog that sometimes has to play an unpopular role to expose truths that might make us squirm--there can't be democracy.

Maybe Thomas Jefferson said it best:

"Were it left to me to decide whether we should have a government without newspapers or newspapers without government, I should not hesitate a moment to prefer the latter."

Ironically, that quote is carved into a wall at the Seattle Post Intelligencer offices--a newspaper that ceased its print publication a few months ago due to financial problems. Journalism jobs are fading and morphing at an alarming rate. In fact, it's probably more accurate to call myself a writer these days than a reporter since most of my work isn't for the editorial pages of the paper lately.

But I love journalism and I love this country, and I don't for a second think that is a contradiction. 

OK. Pardon me as I step off my soapbox. 

In more crafty news ... I'm still on an apron kick, sewing some up for friends and preschool teachers as time allows. I also have an idea for a new apron design brewing after being inspired by something I saw at the Farm Chicks show. Stay tuned.

Otherwise, please enjoy the brilliance that abounds elsewhere on the Web:

-Amy Karol's greeting cards made from the funny things her kids say. We keep a running list of the goofy observations our girls make, too, so I can't wait to put the hilarity to use like Amy has. For example, Bo said this one day:

"When I was a little girl, my heart got broken. But it got better when sissy hugged me and we got married."

Bo, 3 1/2

-Have I mentioned this little shop yet? I think so, but it's worth repeating for your baking pleasure. Every person must have a stash of red-and-white baker's twine and some brown boxes on hand for packing up treats for friends and neighbors, don't you think?

 

-The illustrations and captions in the vintage health book that Denise Sharp bought for $1 recently. I want to embroider every page! 

-All the great kid-crafty ideas on this Web site I stumbled upon recently, including making ginormous pencils. A lot of the activities will have to wait until they get older, but the girls would get a kick out of making mondo pencils. We did something similar in art class when I was in middle school, but you could pick the object you enlarged. I chose a record album. The Queen is Dead by The Smiths. I was sooo tragic.

-The Parents Journal podcast by Bobbi Conner. You have to get past the cheesy theme music, but the messages are usually very interesting and practical. One topic she likes to address is the benefits of no or very little TV. It's always good to play her program when I'm tempted to drag out the Dora DVDs.

-Photojojo's links to photos you can use for free, as well as ideas on what to do with them.

This image reminds me of my original idea for a theme for Bo's nursery before she was born: "vintage swim."

I'd still love to do that one day, but I doubt the girls would be on board with it yet. And soon enough they'll have their own ideas, anyway. How cool would it be to paint the walls aqua, frame some vintage swimsuits in shadow boxes, and display funky old swim caps, though?

-The Crafty Crow's roundup of ideas for making seed markers with kids, found via Kids Craft Weekly. Monkey Lobster's project is my favorite:

 

-And this poster about how to build community, brought to my attention by my friend Nis.

As I said on my other blog:

I’m pretty good at a lot of those tips, but there are many ideas there that I should be using as guide to life. Some of my favorite suggestions from the list are “fix it even if you didn’t break it,” “bake extra and share,” “sit on your stoop” (my family has been doing this a lot more lately), “know your neighbors,” and “start a tradition.” “Turn off your TV” is easy for me, but if I buy the poster I might have to scratch out the word “TV” and replace it with “Internet” just to really challenge myself.

You can learn where to buy your own copy of the poster here.

Emmeline apron with a twist

My apologies for my chronic absenteeism lately. In between the regular rigamarole, we've been spending every extra minute in the yard--getting the garden ready, raking up the leaves we were too lazy to pick up last fall, you know the routine.

The garden is ready for our over abundance of seeds and starts now, but Mother Nature isn't. We've been dipping below freezing a bit this week so I'm holding off until this weekend's expected heat wave. We're expanding our growing space a little this year and adding a few new crops, like raspberries and corn. Growing corn breaks my gardening rule No. 1: only grow things that cost way too much at the store. But I'm hoping it will look pretty cool. You know, all "if you build it, they will come."

Speaking of saving money, I've recently become one of those crazy ladies who clips coupons. Is anyone else part of that sisterhood? Fred Meyer had to pay me $0.81 yesterday to buy a package of lasagna noodles.

I did manage to sew an impromptu Emmeline apron this week for one of Bo's teachers, who is leaving the school to take a new job. 

Sometimes I worry that I feel my girls' pain too deeply, as if it were my own. I'm concerned about what this will mean when they're teenagers and they come home sobbing about some boy who's gone and broken their hearts. Ugh. I can remember that ache like it was yesterday, and now that I'm a mom I think of how my poor parents must have felt.

But Bo is still only 3, so her biggest heartbreak right now is me only letting her have two marshmallows instead of three today.

Except for the pending departure of Miss Kathleen, or so I thought.

I love this woman. She's like our very own ray of sunshine every morning when she greets the kids (doesn't hurt that her hair is a flamingly beautiful shade of red). 

Miss Kathleen is taking a job in which she will help homeless women and their children transition to permanent housing. OK, OK. I will hand her over for that extremely worthy cause. But still, I think I will miss her as much as Bo will.

When I explained the situation to Bo, I expected her to lose it. We'd just seen a homeless man earlier in the day, though, so the thought of not having a place to sleep or enough to eat was fresh in her mind. So instead of crying over the loss of her teacher, she literally jumped out from under her bed covers, and then jumped on her bed cheering, "Yea! She's going to help the man!"

So much for wallowing in self pity. I could learn a thing or two from this kid.

I wanted to make Miss Kathleen a goodbye gift, and an apron seemed appropriate.

She can use this side when she's feeling more serious ...

Or this side when she's missing the kids at school ...

And just so she won't forget Bo, I added a pocket Bo helped make to the playful side. I asked Bo to draw a picture of Miss Kathleen and then I traced and embroidered what she came up with, like we've done before.

Here's Joe Cool herself, taking it all in:

Does anyone else think she kind of looks like the little boy in the movie "Love Actually"? Don't tell her I said that.

P squared

First of all, thank you, Runs With Scissors, for the great book suggestion the other day. We checked out "The Princess and the Pea" by Lauren Child, and I love it as much as Bo does. I want to live in the pages. I want to wear the princess' tiny dresses and attend a miniature ball.

Since then, I've been seeing the Princess and the Pea everywhere. Ohdeedoh featured a princess and the pea set by Manda McGrory of Tree Fall Design that was completely adorable. 

And then Amanda Soule blogged about the P & P, too, and about how her 3-year-old daughter Adelaide apparently loves Child's book, too. Amanda and Adelaide made a princess and mattress set inspired by Tree Fall's set, and Bo caught me looking at it online.

(By the way, Bo has recently discovered the power of the Internet. "Show me crafts, Mommy." "Show me princess cakes." It's cute and scary at the same time.)

So, of course, she wanted to make a princess and the pea set like Adelaide's and Manda's. (FYI--Manda sells her version in her Etsy shop, if you're interested). We whipped up our own version today while Magpie napped, and somewhere along the way Bo decided it would be a gift for her little sister when she woke up (aw sweet, right? That's the yin to the yang that normally happens between these two sisters).

The mattresses were sewn with Bo on my lap. They're a little iffy in spots because of that, but they were a hit with both girls all the same. The pea is a green pom pom, the bed is an empty mandarin orange box, and the princess is a little fairy finger puppet we've had for a while. 

I have to admit it. This princess thing is turning out to be pretty magical. Somebody pass me some crow.

Good night!

Make a dragonfly with Em

I'm sure I've said this here before, but I'm never totally sure who all is out there reading Penny Carnival. It's so fun to receive comments on posts to get to know people better, but I know there are still others hanging around who don't chime in. Lurk all you want! That's perfectly fine! (Although I do love to hear from folks.)

One reader I do know about is my 6-year-old niece Em (not her real name, but close). Em loves to dance, sing, go to kindergarten, make art and be a fabulous big sister and cousin. When she was a tiny baby, she was all eyes. She would lock her gaze on you with her great big beautiful peepers, melting everyone's hearts. She's still taking the world in, one wonder at a time (and taking it by storm often, too).

I'm across the state right now in my hometown, visiting my parents and sister. We were doing crafts with the kids the other day and Em had a great idea--how about if she created a tutorial for Penny Carnival? Fabulous. I'm on the mend from strep throat, so I'm thrilled to get some help around here. 

She invented this dragonfly craft on her own and dictated the directions to me as I took notes and photos. 

So here you have it ... a dragonfly craft courtesy of future craft blogger and wonder girl Em. I wish you could hear her voice as she explained these steps. Carol Duvall in training. The comments in parentheses are mine ...

1. Fold a piece of construction paper, starting on the long end. Keep folding, (accordion style) until you get to the end.

2. Choose a twist tie, whatever color you want. Twist it around, then you twist it around again.

3. Then choose whatever color paper you want. Cut a circle. This is going to be the head. At the very bottom put a little bit of glue. Then stick it onto your dragonfly wings.

4. Then flip it over and that’s the front of your dragonfly. Draw a face on the front.

5. Then cut antlers (yes, antlers! squeal!!!) from either the same color or a different color. Cut two little squares out. With a glue stick, you glue the antlers on.

And there you have it! A dragonfly.

Not to be outdone by her older cousin, Bo had to get in on the action. So here's her tutorial for coloring on a piece of paper, delivered in the same Carol Duvall tone:

1. I colored in. I colored like this and this. And then I made this. And then watch. I do this color in. Then what you do is put the cap back on.

2. Then just fold it and get another color to color with. Blue, yellow, pink. Any color. Color like this, this and this.

3. Snap it back on (the cap) and that’s the end.

That's it. I'm going to Bermuda. You're in good hands here.

Easter craft roundup

We are a bit behind on the Easter crafting this year, but here's a roundup of links I wrote for my other blog if you're looking for some great ideas. These fabric eggs from Retro Mama are one of my favorites:

Not that we're not crafting at all. Bo's latest obsession is mail. Letters. Envelopes. Stamps. Mailboxes. So today we followed these instructions to make a mailbox for Magpie while she napped.

Ours doesn't look quite as polished as the one pictured there, but Bo was thrilled to "write" her sister a letter and leave it in the box for her. A long time ago I thought of buying both girls a secondhand mailbox, letting them paint them and then attaching them to their bedroom walls somehow for sisterly correspondence. But our Quaker Oats mailbox will do just fine for now.

Seeds, kiddie art, fabric hoarding and a purse

I'm fried.

I can't even come up with a clever title for this post (see above). The last two weeks have been a blur--slammed with work deadlines, a fun-but-all-too-fast trip to Portland (Oregon), and these two adorable children who keep calling me Mommy and insist that I feed, clothe and clean them.

In the meantime, I'm longing to sew. And send stuff off that I've already sewn (JennaZ--your book sling is done and lovely, I'm just having a dickens of a time finding a mailing tube that's long enough for it. It's my No. 1 priority for tomorrow. Er, today. It's tomorrow already.).

One thing I have managed to find time for is buying fabric. What is my deal? I should probably not write another post encouraging underconsumption until I rein in this habit. Our trip to Portland last week included an important stop: Ikea. Without sales tax. Weeeee! Plus, fabric was on sale. (Justification alert. Justification alert.)

Then, when I got back home, I stopped at the Quilting Bee in Spokane Valley because they're having a sale. I bought some adorable circus fabric that I'm going to use with this pattern--Feliz party dress from Studio Tantrum. So girly and fun.

Somewhere along the way I did manage to sew this purse, roughly following this pattern from Favorite Things.

I fully intended to follow it exactly, but--I have to be honest here--I couldn't understand half of what they were telling me in the directions. Has anyone else used Favorite Things before? I'm not trying to badmouth them--I'm sure it's more my problem than theirs--but at one point I felt like turning the instructions upside down to see if that helped. The purse turned out fine, but making it hurt my head.

Then we've been doing a little bit of this:

And a little bit of that:

And following these fantastic directions for making masterpieces out of children's art:

You basically trace a silhouette onto a child's painting, cut it out, then paste it on a white background. Simple. Brilliant. Beautiful. 

I first saw the idea on Ohdeedoh and there was some conversation there about how damaging it would be to a child's self-esteem to repurpose their art. Hmmm ... I just told the girls from the beginning that this was what we were going to do. Bo helped me trace and paste. Viola! She loved the finished product and so do I.

So much more to say, but my battery is low and it's, um, 1:32 a.m. Nighty nigh

Gratitude

I was thinking recently about compliments, and some of the more memorable ones I've received over the years. When J and I were young and on our first round of dating (there was an extended break in the late '90s), he once told me I had pretty eyes. 

"They're really big, like a cow's," he said.

What can I say? He tries.

Another memorable compliment came from my Uncle Tommy, who passed away a couple years ago. He was a big-hearted man who I loved dearly. Big, strong football coach on the outside. Warm, tender peacemaker on the inside. 

When I called to tell him I was getting married, he told me my husband was the luckiest guy in the world because he was going to have a wife who would be upbeat and positive every day of the marriage.

Umm ... not so much today, Uncle Tommy. Talk about a grump! I might have actually stomped my feet at one point. Ooh. That's embarrassing to see in print.

There's nothing in particular to blame for my bad attitude. I had just had it. Had it with not being able to go pee without a child wanting to come into the bathroom and be with me. Had it with my coat being at the bottom of several layers of coats on the peg so that all of them fell when I tried to get mine. Had it with another day of cold weather.

It's so hard to talk myself out of that place when I'm there. It took me several hours, but I'm back to my happy place now (disclosure: the kids are sleeping. Could that be part of the reason?).

If anyone has an answer as to how to get out of that mood--or how to avoid it altogether--please chime in. The quickest route for me is to focus on what I'm grateful for, a list that ends up being quite long. I'm not saying that tactic always works, but it never hurts to try.

Last Thanksgiving, I suggested we put a jar on the kitchen shelf with slips of blank paper next to it. On the paper, throughout the year, we could write down the things we're thankful for as we think of them and then read everything during the following year's Thanksgiving dinner. 

I still need to set out that jar, but in the meantime, here's an excerpt from my gratitude list.

Making me smile lately:

-These body tracings of the girls, especially the quirky face Bo (left) drew on Magpie (right). Can you see the two round eyes and the grin?

-The Dixie Chicks' version of "The Rainbow Connection" on the "Mary Had a Little Amp" CD.

-This photo of homemade playdough from Hop Skip Jump and the recipe for it.

-My Friday night date with the girls making our own version of playdough--the edible variety! (Combine peanut butter, powdered milk, honey and flour.)

-Magpie's rump in these pants, which I made from the denim of an old pair of my jeans. The pockets are pieces from Klay's fabric donation. (Thanks again, Klay. It's the gift that keeps on giving.)

-This conversation between Bo and me tonight:

Bo: "I love tea."

Me: "Me, too! I love drinking tea at night. It quiets my body. It's warm so I have to drink it slowly, and that slows me down and gets me ready for bed. How about you?"

Bo: "No. Tea makes fast and it makes me scream!!!!!"

-This granny blanket, which I bought for $2.71 at a thrift shop last weekend.

-The health and happiness of my family and friends, including all of you.

-J's patience and love when dealing with my foot stomping today.

-And a children's music CD called "The Planet Sleeps," a compilation of lullabies in various languages and from various cultures. Incredibly soothing songs that might very well be a nightly routine for us to wind down to from now on.

The producer recorded the songs all over the world to "show the similarities that exist between widely different cultures, regardless of racial boundaries" in hopes that it "might in some small way help challenge the beginnings of prejudice, wherever it may exist." 

He adds, "no matter how old we get, we are all still children, we all need occasional refuge, and, most importantly, we all need each other."

Amen.

A HANDy Valentine card tutorial

I'm so naive.

With all the crafting we do around here, I should have known better. I should have known there was no way 3-year-old Bo would have the patience to make the same thing--in this case, Valentines--28 times.

Our score at the crafting table last night--

Bo: 8

Mommy: 20

Ah, well. At least these were simple to put together.

I cannot for the life of me remember where I saw this idea, and I'm so sorry for that. It popped up during my surfing yesterday and I didn't even read the directions, but I imagine we made them in a similar way.

You will need: skin-colored cardstock, red cardstock, scissors, glue sticks, and either computer paper or scraps of white paper and a pen.

Step 1: Have child trace her hand on a piece of lightweight cardboard (like a cereal box). Cut it out. This will be her template.

Step 2: Have child trace the template on skin-colored cardstock.

Step 3: Holding a piece of red cardstock behind the skin-colored one, cut out the hands.

Step 4: Cut or hole punch a heart in the middle of each skin-colored hand. Do not cut hearts out of the red hands.

Step 4: Print out or write messages on small, thin scraps of paper. I simply typed "(heart) Boston" so the kids knew who the card was from.

Step 5: Have the child glue the two hands together, sandwiching the paper message between them so the word part sticks out. Note how the back side is red:

My favorites of the bunch were the eight that Bo made--lots of scrawly tracing marks and a mish-mashing of the hands as she glued them together.

She came home from preschool with a pouch full of cards from her classmates, some really adorable homemade ones included. What was her favorite of the bunch, though? No, not the hands. Her favorite was a Spiderman that jumps out at you when you tilt it. Fabulous.