Teapot Die Cut
Jul 22, 17:42 PST
Buy It Now
Jul 22, 17:58 PST
COTTAGE CUTZ: Cottage Cutz Dies. With design styles that are cute and adorable fun and whimsical and classically elegant these universal wafer-thin dies make a great addition to your paper crafting supplies. Cut amazing shapes out of paper cardstock adhesive-backed paper vinyl vellum and more. They are made from American steel and will work with the QuicKutz Revolution CuttleBug Spellbinder Wizard AccuCut Zip'eMate and Sizzix Big Shot and Big Kick machines (all sold separately). The die is a solid steel plate with multiple cutting images and comes with a layer of ejection foam to give clean and accurate cuts. This package contains Small Teapot (a Made Easy design). Assembled design size: 3.4x2.7 Inch. Die size: 4x4 Inch. Made in USA.
100% brand new and high quality
Suitable for Scrapbooking, Paper Card, Embossing, Album, DIY Craft, ect.
Size: As the picture shows
Size for manual measurement, there may be a 0 to 2 cm error, belongs to the normal phenomenon.
And due to the difference between different monitors, the picture may not reflect the actual color of the item. Thank you!
This beautiful teapot album is made using shades of pink and will make you go to Alice in Wonderland . I will make you walk through the project. Thankyou for.
Perfect for the upcoming holiday season, were pleased to announce the latest round of die-cut sensations. As you snuggle closer to your teapot and cozy nearer to your coffee mug, fill your kitchen with the comforting aroma of freshly baked cookies and muffins, each enticingly presented as a beloved collection of treats. Enjoy *Author: Siegel, Helene/ Gillingham, Karen/ Gillingham, Karen *Series Title: Totally Cookbooks *Binding Type: Paperback *Number of Pages: 96 *Publication Date: 1995/11/01 *Language: English *Dimensions: 4.84 x 3.86 x 0.28 inches
Yongsu and I launched the flat-bottomed boat from a muddy part of the river I didn’t recognize. It seemed the bank of the river had moved much closer to the village, though I knew it hadn’t rained much that year. We took our places and, as Yongsu pulled the oars, I scanned the far shore for a good place to land—a landmark that Yongsu could aim for to counter the current. “ Ya , I haven’t done this in a long time,” Yongsu said, flipping some water into the air. “You remember the last time you were out on this river. That was five years ago. The water was so clear back then that it seemed only a few palm widths deep, shallow enough for me to reach down and touch the pebbles that rippled in the play of light and the shadow of the boat. Now, when I looked over the side, the water was a foggy green color, and after the first few feet I couldn’t see the bottom. “What happened to the water. “There’s something green in it. ”. “There’s no current since they put up the hydroelectric dam downstream. ” Yongsu twitched his head in that direction. “They finished it two years ago. Ever since, the river’s been high all year and full of that algae. Fisheries all over the place now, raising carp, because they like that dirty bottom water. “It even sounds different,” I said. I looked out across the flat expanse of the river-become-a-lake, recalling the last time I had been here—the gentle sound of the current, the clear water more transparent than air, flowing icy cold under the boat, and the pebbles, white and gray... Even the air was clearer back then, without this invisible mist which seemed almost a mental pollution. How could they give up the old river for this murky green plane on which even the reflections looked stagnant. All the old channels must have been clogged with algae and the sort of scum that collects on a dead pond. The creak and the rhythm made me think of voices—and I could almost hear them, nearly as loud as the gurgling sound of the oars dipping into the water—until Yongsu stopped rowing and we butted against the shore. “Crossing the River Jordan. ” Yongsu sang out, parodying our Christian aunt’s favorite hymn. I must have looked alarmed when he brought me out of my reverie, and I worried that he had read the thoughts behind my expression, but he just broke into laughter. We dragged the boat up a little ways, and I uncoiled the rope and tied it to a sapling. “Do you think we’ll be able to find Big Uncle. “The air’s fresh,” Yongsu said. “From what Little Uncle said, we can just track him by the smell. Yongsu had got into some trouble and needed to avoid his dropout friends. I’d recently moved back to Korea after two years away in America and Germany, where my father’s duty stations had taken him. I’d begun skipping school, and since I hadn’t missed any classes yet that week, I had decided to play hooky for a couple of days. Neither of us had been out in the country in a long time, so we had come to pay a visit to Little Uncle and Big Uncle, who liked us and wouldn’t mind keeping a secret. But when we’d arrived in Sambong-ni, the previous night, we’d learned that the gangrene in Big Uncle’s old foot injury had come back. This time the stench was so bad that the family had sent him across the river to the old cave. Little Uncle told us that we had to go and see him, because everyone was worried that Big Uncle might die this time. Yongsu started up the slope, and I followed, scanning back and forth through the underbrush. It didn’t take long for us to run into a small trail that followed the waterline, and we took that toward the west, into shadowy woods lanced by sunlight. Yongsu seemed oblivious of anything but the trail, but I relaxed my eyes the way Big Uncle had taught me when I was little, and it wasn’t long before I spotted something odd. “Look,” I said to Yongsu. There were rags draped over the lower branches of a tree to dry in the sun, and they were still discolored—yellow and red—with what must have been the pus and blood oozing from Big Uncle’s sores. “Yeah, he lives around here,” Yongsu said. Maybe he’s looking for food or some medicinal herbs. ” Yongsu said. Then I heard it. Someone crawling along the path, barely moving. “He must have fallen,” I said. Source: www.newyorker.com
What was once a country club staple is now a sophisticated long drink – quite possibly served in a teapot. Paul Chappells. The Glasgow Distillery where they make MAKAR gin, The result is a small volume, 101 Gins To Try Before You Die. It covers
Little Uncle told us that we had to go and see him, because everyone was worried that Big Uncle might die this time. “When I was young, we used to put the old people out in caves like this to die after they started to go senile. . of dreams: I
They don't ever seem crazy to us when we're working on them, but you know the song “I'm a Little Teapot”? We're doing that TELLER: There was nobody cut out of these shows. They made a I would like to die on stage. I would like the last two
The third book in a series, this one takes an in-depth look at the most popular techniques in scrapbooking. This book teaches new and better ways for organizing, journaling, rubber stamping, creative cropping, and paper piecing to help you create wonderful keepsake books. Hundreds of ideas are included to inspire creativity and coach the reader to create their best work yet. Themed chapters are loaded with how-to projects to demonstrate the creative applications of these popular methods used to preserve family history. As a companion to PBS' More Than Memories show, this book showcases the techniques and content demonstrated on the TV segments, and becomes a must-have guide for viewers. Scrapbooking experts from all areas share their best secrets for creating personalized themes...
“A drink reeking of suburbia and home counties complacency is now found in cutting-edge cocktail bars around the world,” Ian said. “The Nigel Farage of drinks has morphed into its Cara Delevingne.” 101 Gins To Try Before You Die ...
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