Chapter IV, In Which Sheila Attempts to Apply Hair Removal Creme to Her Upper Lip Area Without Her Readers On

Some things come with being a raving brunette beauty.  Some things come with being over forty.  If you don't think you have fuzz on your upper lip area, step out into the sunshine with me.  Come on.  Don't be ashamed.

For me, however, some things come with being preoccupied, and addled in the brain.


So I was going through my usual beauty ritual of coloring my hair, shaving the legs, yadda yadda.  I was applying exfoliant to my face, whilst soaking in the tub, whilst listening to Steven Pressfield's  book on Audible, entitled "Do The Work".

Oh.  My.  Word.  I was completely absorbed in Pressfield's book.  Completely.

As I was gently exfoliating my face, I sort of thought, "Hmmmmm.  I need to grab that little tube of Oil of Olay Hair Removal For Upper Lip Area"  - a product tailor made for all raven haired beauties and women over forty.  It works great, really, and comes with its own little moisturizing stick that you rub on your lip first, to minimize any chemical burn from the removal creme.

I schlepped out of the tub, and absent mindedly pulled the middle drawer of the vanity open, and grabbed that little moisturizing stick that comes with Oil of Olay's Facial Hair Removal Creme...and grabbed the first other tube that seemed right.  I plunked myself back into the warm jacuzzi - after all, getting out makes you cold, so I was in a hurry.

And Pressfield's book is so good.

I applied the moisturizer, and then generously smeared a dime sized dollop of said tube all over my upper lip, glanced at the time on my smart phone (which was also playing my Audible dot com Pressfield book) and sat back to relax.  A full six minutes later, I thought...

..."Hmmmmm.  This book is so great.  But this creme smells really odd.  Really.  Odd."

I held the tube at full arm's length, and squinted in an attempt to read the words on it:

Itch.  Cream.  As in...itch cream for a woman's extremely sensitive area. Back late winter/early spring, I had to go on a brief antibiotic for a sinus infection, and as a result, got the requisite, mild yeast infection.  That stupid cream was still in my drawer.

Oh dear Lord.  God grant me the serenity.  Jesus take the wheel!  I yelped and grabbed my wash cloth, scrubbing madly.  I had just put that...that... that cream all over my upper lip!,

(I can hear you now..."Oh no you di' int!")

Oh.  Yes.  I.  Did.

And...the story gets better.

I schlepped out of the tub and checked the mirror.  No whelps, no bumps, upper lip still there. What a relief.  So I opened the middle drawer and grabbed a small black tube.

Somehow, I associated that black tube with Oil of Olay hair removal creme.

I was confident.  This time I had it right.

I sank once again into the jacuzzi and turned on the jets, and turned up the volume on my book.  I then generously smeared the contents of small black tube all over my upper lip.  I glanced at the time on my smart phone.

About five minutes in, I thought, "This book is amazing, but this creme smells too good to be hair removal creme."

I held the tube out at full arm's length, squinted as hard as I could, and read:

"Neck Firming Cream"


It was a sample tube that had come WITH my Oil of Olay Hair Removal creme.  I had sat for a full five minutes with neck firming cream all over my upper lip.

By this time, I was howling.  I sat and giggled so hard, I cried.

Then, I schlepped out of the tub for the third time, opened middle drawer, and really looked, this time.  As in, I turned over all two or three  remaining miscellaneous tubes, squinted, held them out at full arm's length, and read them.  Towards the back of the  Found it.  Oil of Olay hair removal creme for the face.

Dripping wet, I climbed back in the tub.  I generously smeared the contents of said tube allllllll over my very, very firm, and definitely not itchy upper lip.

Only this time, I grabbed the smart phone and took a picture:

New - Grandmother's Song

This one is named "Grandmother's Song"...for the first song I ever sang to Timothy, and the first song I will sing to Adyn Esther, and the first song I will sing to each and every grandchild yet to be...

12x12, in acrylics, watercolors, inks, and General's Sketch-n-wash pencil, on a background of antique book papers...

If you love this, grab it. Trust me, a happy mixed-media painting is hard to find.

Perfect for a nursery or playroom or any room where you want to be reminded of some little someone who is your sunshine!

"Grandmother's Song" is a happy painting. It should be - becoming a Mimi has been one of the greatest joys of my life.

So far, I can only do happy work. I pray my work will never get moody and broody. The joy of the Lord is my strength!

 If you are interested, please either email me, or visit my shop. You'll find Paypal there, and I'll get this out to you right away!

A Season of Harvest Is Now ALSO "Sheila Atchley Designs"

random picture from my archives, because I didn't want to leave you pictureless...

I've heard from a couple of you!

You typed in my blog address, like you always do, and you ended up redirected to a more or less blank page.

I know, right?  What was I thinking?!

Well, here is the scoop, hopefully condensed:  since my art is actually selling, since I might even do a big art show in the fall, since I am taking Jeanne Oliver's class on small business, I am looking at making some changes to my web presence.  You can still always find me at  "".  But, effective immediately, anyone and everyone who types into their browser will  also be taken right here.

To our blog.  It isn't "my" blog, because that means nothing.  A blog is nothing without readers.

And I couldn't give you up.  All one dozen of you.  You mean so much to me, I've spent hours and hours figuring out the simple act of directing all traffic to, to this blog, so we wouldn't lose each other.

I did it.  Finally figured it out.  Bam.

Sheila Atchley Designs Dot Com.   I may start a small business by that name, who knows?  And if I do, people need to be able to find me by name.  Hence, the new/old address, which will take you to this old/new blogspot address.

One thing is for certain:  I will be making some changes to the Season of Harvest blog you've always known.  Good changes.  But you will still find me at the address you've always known.

I'll be creating a new header, and launching into a new project that I want to keep a surprise.

Regardless of what I decide to do, I need your support!

How can you support me?  Just keep coming back.  And pray for me.  I have several new avenues I want to take with this very website, and sharing the Gospel of the Finished Work of Christ will always the object of all my endeavors - be it through art or business or websites or whatever.

And just for fun...please type "" into your browser.  Let's get this party started, and blow up Google Analytics!

Well.  ::cough::

I can dream, right?  Whatever happens with my Google ratings, I am glad we had this little talk.

PayPal Now Available - Art For Missions - New In The Shop!

For your convenience, PayPal is now available - an easy way for you to purchase my original art, and in so doing, contribute to our church's youth group missions trip this June!

Brand new, in the shop ~  SOLD

 12x12 mixed media canvas, "Free Indeed"
(click on picture for an enlarged view...)

done in acrylics, guache, gesso, watercolors, and inks, on a background of antique book and hymnal style painted edges, so this can be hung without a frame.

...flower detail...

pages from an old, old hymnal...

...more flower detail...stylized flowers dominate the aqua blue, ivory, and white background...

 hanging on the wall in my studio...
$55, postage paid  SOLD

Next up, is this sweet little canvas ~

In this photo, you can see all the pretty details, but the canvas background reads a little more "yellow" than it actually is...see the next photo...(and click on any picture for an enlarged view)

"My Mother"
5x5 mixed media canvas, beautifully and unusually mounted on cast iron trivet

 I found four of these beautiful antique keys the other day...I snatched them all up.  One made its way onto this canvas.  Reading is the key to wisdom and knowledge...

page from an antique book, peeking out on the reads "Literary Lanes"...

excerpt from a poem by Strickland Gillian
"...richer than I you could never be - I had a mother who read to me."

If you don't have a PayPal account, please email me, and we can make arrangements for payment and receipt of your art!

I have an opportunity to put my art in a shop in Pennsylvania, and I may have a chance to do my first art November...and I'm told it is a major art show.

I will keep you posted!

There will be more new things up on my blog-shop very soon...please stay tuned, and thanks for all the love.  It means so very, very much to me! 

Art For Missions - New in The Shop

"My Mother"

Everyone knows that reading is the key to wisdom and knowledge.  If you had a mother who read to you, you are so richly blessed.

5x5x1.5 canvas, beautifully and unusually mounted on cast iron trivet
Acrylics, gesso, guache, inks, modeling paste, with a genuine antique key mounted on the canvas
 hand-stamped and hand lettered, on antique book pages. 

This original painting features an excerpt from a poem by Strickland Gillian

"...richer than I you could never be -
I had a mother who read to me."

Here are some other detail views for you ~

The antique key

the words on the top of the canvas peek out: "Literary Lanes"

And on the side, the antique book page reads "A Sermon on Reading"

So uniquely mounted, with one last surprise - the back is stamped burlap.  This piece looks rustic and pretty and finished, even from behind. 

Love this.  It so speaks to what has always been a major philosophy of motherhood in my life and home. I read to my children every single day, even as high school students, I read to them for a few minutes each day, for the sheer joy of reading books.  Reading aloud is truly the key to all learning!

This one is a hit here...we are all so partial to it.  Lots of love went into it, and The Preacher even did all the fabrication and mounting, Hannah did the photography.

$45 postage paid

If you love this "My Mother" canvas, if you can give it a good home just in the nick of time for Mother's Day, please email me right away! 

Remember - half of everything I make - gross, not net - goes to missions, the other half goes back into my art supplies...which now must necessarily include cool and unusual mountings for smaller square canvases!  Fun!

Rockin' the Role

This boy rocks at the role of grandson.  Literally (he sits in our rocking chair, as you see above, and rocks with decisive authority) and figuratively.  He brings me my coffee every morning (in Pop-pop's arms...Pop-pop carries the coffee, but of course, it is Timothy who "brings" it)  and delivers it with a kiss.

"Hey Girl!"

I'm sure you've seen Ryan Gosling's "Hey Girl" meme...I've saved a few along the way that speak to me...

If you only knew.  I don't do screen printing...yet...but my studio is in my dining room.  And my very own  personal  Hey Girl cutie pie truly does not mind.  He would "Hey girl" me, and eat over the sink all day long if it made me happy.  On top of that, he's man enough to make me the perfect lunch, if I wanted it.

Man enough to serve.  Hollah! I must be livin' the dream.

Yup.  My new(ish) black yoga pants, and my Michael Kors jeans.  Both have paint on them now.  Tim just smiles and says, "Hey girl..."


I do have a nice pair of German made all metal scissors - even with my half price coupon, they were not cheap. 

Got them at Michael's.  ::cough::

I am pretty sure Tim would not use them to cut paper. 

Don't hate on me, but I pretty much am a spoiled woman.  It takes a real man to spoil a woman like me.  I am loved, kept, spoiled rotten, respected, understood, and allowed to be who I am.

And he's got it made, himself!  My very own Mr. Hey-Girl-Preacher-Husband is loved, kept, spoiled rotten, respected, understood, and allowed to be who he is.  All that, and he gets to be in charge. 

But I ain't showin' him my Michael's receipts.