Major and Minor Irritants

We are having our first Sunday morning service in our new church building tomorrow morning!

You need to know that this building was the former home of a large church that had a devastating split, in disgrace, that made Big News locally. Months later, the pastor died, and it was All To Be Hashed Over Again. Our church received dozens of grieving families in the months following, who, incidentally, will be returning to their former church "home," home now to our part of the Body.

We have an Enemy who is not happy about all this. The Lord has told our leadership that this is the beginning of a great move of ministry, and that forgiveness and healing will be one of the results.

Blackeyed Susan is part of the program for Dedication Sunday, October 21st. The enemy has been hard at work in ways big and small, trying to hamper God's work. Of the two dance leaders/choreographers, one's husband has had a heart attack, and the other has had physical injury. Rehearsals have been plagued by "mysterious" fire alarms (no fire, no one pulled the box, etc.)

Blackeyed Susan was the target the other day. Charming took us, Joe Hardy, Forget-me-not, Blueberry, and nephew Derek to Pizza Hut the other day. We came home to a severed bicycle lock:

This happened about one p.m. Susan and Alvin Fernald's bicycles were locked together on the front porch. Someone cut the cable, moved Alvin's bike out of the way, took Susan's, and left Alvin's (whose bike was on the "outside," if someone wanted to be in a hurry). This was done in full view of a crew of three housepainters directly across the street, and with Charming's car in the driveway. All of those things which would tell you that nobody would be Stupid Enough to try such a stunt. And yet they did.

Susan and I talked about Job, and how Satan had to come before God and request to mess with him. First the Lord said, yes, but don't touch his body: later, He allowed that, but not to the point of death. We talked about how the enemy can't hurt us without our Father's knowledge; that everything must come through His hand.

This was a Minor Irritation in the big scheme of things. There were others (my dryer "stopped working" for three days, but is back again); there may be others still. Tuesday night at worship practice, another "fire alarm blip" caused a tiny interruption in power, and wiped out the entire sound board pre-sets (twenty-plus man-hours of work). Things were righted after a few minutes (and prayer, of course!)--Charming mentioned how if this had happened in a worldly setting, the profanity would have been flying...

How grateful I am that we are in the Father's hand, and that the Word promises us that nothing can remove us. We walk in His protection, so that if and when we fall prey to the enemy's works, we can call on our Father's name, and He will be there, to walk through them with us.

In other news, Sweet Pea had to go to the doctor this week to get her head super-glued after catching the corner of the coffee table:

What a wonderful thing--super-skin-glue!

Well, I am off to the Open House Tour at church--I got lost three times Wednesday, getting back up front from the back of the building. I am pathetic with navigation...

Straightening Out My Head

A busy week this week (now, really, people, when is a week NOT busy?). Charming has been working "opens," which means he needs to be at work at 5 a.m. Sunday night, I set the alarm for 4 a.m. Unbeknownst to me, while I was setting "alarm," my finger slipped to the "time" button, and I added an hour to the time, as well. Charming dutifully sat up when the alarm went off, and set off to the shower. He came right back, saying, "hon, it's only three o'clock." I checked my wristwatch, and, sure 'nuff, I had messed up the alarm. Charming noticed, because he had glanced at the clock in my sewing room. This was a clock left over from when Forget-me-not used that room. It is an LED clock with three-inch high numbers, glowing brightly. I was pretty grateful that we have that clock, because I don't think Charming would have been too happy to arrive at work at 4 a.m!

Working "opens" means he needs to get to bed early (tho' that seldom happens), and there is really no time to have Quality time with him. Monday night, I took Blackeyed Susan to a dance rehearsal at church for our Dedication Ceremony in two weeks. She also has regular ballet on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays, as well as regular Wednesday night church. Last evening, I walked in the door as Charming went out, going to music practice at church (he plays this Sunday). He got home late (10 p.m.) and I was feeling really sorry for myself at the lack of "us"-time, when he told me that today (Wed) he works the closing shift! He will go to work at 2 p.m. and we will have an extended Coffee Time on the porch, while the children do schoolwork.

We have our first service in our new facility this Sunday. We moved into a larger church that had experienced a tragic church split. Another church (located across from a Christian university) bought our former church, and the university bought their church. I think it must truly be a miracle to have a three-way real-estate deal where everyone comes away satisfied!

The enemy is doing everything he can to frustrate the plans the Lord has for us. At music practice last evening, the fire alarm went off (by mistake?), causing a power "bleep," that wiped out the pre-sets on the sound system. This meant twenty man-hours of work Gone. Everyone prayed, and after twenty minutes or so, Charming heard the sound engineer say, "there it is."

Charming mentioned to the others present that, had this happened in a worldly setting, how the cursing would fly. Frankly, when I am that frustrated, those words sometimes come to my mind. But it is a testimony to God's faithfulness, and the maturity of these men, that they would deal with whatever had to be done, even if it all had to be done over.

My dryer went out over the weekend, and Charming won't be able to look at it until Thursday, so Lily let me bring over three loads of wet laundry. I love the way she blessed me by folding the clothes, but (since she is a pg mom of three -under-five) left the towels unfolded . I am such an all-or-nothing girl, I would have folded all or none, either leaving a wrinkled mess of the clothes, or done unnecessary work (because we all know that Alvin Fernald and Blackeyed Susan need something to do while I read aloud!)

Tonight the new church is only holding the Youth Service, no men's, women's, or children's classes. I will be there to work on the four new banners for the Dedication Ceremony. Our banner-leader says that the work will be completed on time, I'm just a-beadin' and a-trimmin' whatever she says. I love it because I am working with women who I didn't know very well before, and gleaning wisdom from them as we work.

Well, this post has been rambling, if nothing else. Maybe I just needed to straighten my thoughts out before my day begins. Now, off to schoolwork, then COFFEE with my honey!

Alvin's First Casserole

From a card sticking out of my Country Living magazine (also on a tv commercial, I understand):
Alvin's first casserole!

The recipe calls for just 3/4 cup of uncooked rice (1 1/2 cups cooked). For FIVE people? Next time we'll double the rice.

He made it completely by himself, while I took Blackeyed Susan to ballet last evening.
Great job, m' boy!

Fall Color of Another Sort

I found a corned beef brisket in the freezer, and Blackeyed Susan got excited! Cabbage is one of her very favorite vegetables, and I am one of those who can definitely Take It or Leave It. I "put up with" the smell of boiling cabbage for Saint Patrick's Day, when I make New England Boiled Dinner. (that's corned-beef-and-cabbage with potatoes and carrots added, for those of us cabbage-haters...)

Anyway, I made a NEBD yesterday, and as I cut up the veggies, they were so pretty I wanted a picture:
I think this is so cool: God's colors never clash!

I finished my shawl (found on Jewel's blog !) I made it for "just over" $1.00. After finishing four of my 25 cent thrift-store skeins of red wool, I started a fifth for the last two rows and the binding-off:

This is what I used to pin it...

One of two large plastic hair-pins. I found a card of two for ten cents at a yard sale:

That will do until I get a shawl-pin, as shown on Jewel's blog.

Well, Violet is coming into town this morning, so the school-day will be adjusted accordingly. We still need to get math and some other things done, as we like a lighter day on Fridays. Alvin Fernald called a "home-ec day!" for today (meaning No School/Clean-and-Bake day). Sorry, Alvin--Marco Polo is waiting for you in Kublai Khan's courtroom, and Means and Medians is your math lesson today, tho' I'm thinking about putting Science off till tomorrow. The grands are coming over for lunch. It will be a great day!

Good Thoughts from Violet

My daughter Violet wrote this as an assignment while studying for her master's degree:

"Personal statement about literature:

When I think about what literature is to me, I find
generalization difficult and cliches rather offensive. The best way to explain
how I feel about literature is to use examples.

Literature is Confederate and Union soldiers reading Les
Miserables, experiencing the miseries of the French underclass while
waiting in fields and forests of Pennsylvania or South Carolina or
Georgia, for what might be their last battle.

Literature is the New Yorker's William Maxwell writing a letter to
Sylvia Townsend Warner about his experience with the city-wide blackout--the
whole of New York, moving eerily and quietly through the streets
in moonlight, candlelight, flashlight.

Literature is in the gas-lit, pea-soup fog of Victorian London, where
Holmes and Watson hunt the Napoleon of Crime and plumb the grotesqueries
of humanity.

Literature is Wodehouse amusing with his absurdities, Havel protesting with
his plays, Herbert praising with his poetry.

Literature is in the voice of the post-"colonial," long unheard, growing
stronger, opening the ears and eyes, minds and hearts, of people across the
world.

Literature reaches through time, across space, between people. E.M. Forster
said, "Only connect." Through literature I make a connection with other people I
may never meet. I connect with people who died centuries before I was
born, with people who live thousands of miles away, and with people I might
ignore or dislike in person. Literature-in-translation lets me connect not only
with an author, but with a nearly-invisible translator--a two-for-one gift. I
also connect with myself; I find I meet myself and people like those around me
surprisingly often when I read.

Only connect. That is what literature means to me."

So. This is why we read. I knew there was a reason...

Today I am thanking the Lord for the gift of reading, of writing, of
books.

p.s. I don't know why this printed the way it did (more like a poem than prose)--it didn't look that way when I composed it!

The Great Molasses Disaster of 1919

Well, I promised yesterday that I would tell you about this!

We got a book from the library once, about Disasters. You know, the San Francisco Earthquake. The hurricane early in the 20th century that took the lives of thousands and thousands in Texas. (could you imagine living without the Weather Channel and radar???) The Johnstown Flood. But they pale next to The Great Molasses Disaster of 1919.

You can read about it here. I'll wait while you read about it.

My first thought, after reading it, was to, for once, thank God for OSHA and all of the government agencies that, though we hate their interference, do actually give us a measure of safety. The huge tank (holding 2.3 million gallons of molasses ) had never been tested to make sure that it would hold.

The molasses ran five feet deep through the streets. Horses and humans were stuck. I wondered how the rescue workers made their way through the mess.

But my biggest wonder was, How did they clean the mess up? I could really identify with one statement the book made: Many basements were filled to the top with the stuff.

Wow.

When we read the book, we had just cleaned up from our second basement flood. The first had happened a couple of years prior. I don't remember exactly what happened, but there had been a few inches of water. We threw out tons of stuff. Two of my boys slept down there, so we made a project of getting stuff off the floor--nothing stored on the bottom shelf of the several sets of shelves down there. I was planning to store fabric in one of the rooms, so transferred all of it to rubbermaid tubs.

We had a terrific rainstorm one night a couple of years later. Eight inches fell in a few hours. The weatherman said it was "train-ing"--imagine the storm running along a track, and when it reached the end of the track, it "jumped," and went back to the beginning and started over, and over, and over.

We didn't flood because of over-running creeks, or whatever. The sewers backed up. Recently the EPA ( grrrr) had mandated that all water (and sewage) must run through the same sewers, which go to the treatment plant. Our city had had a system of storm sewers, which caught the rain water and sent it directly to the river. (gee, sounds reasonable to me. I mean, I learned the Water Cycle in grade school...) But, no, they had to close those, and everything went down the sanitary sewers.

We live in the section of the city which has the second-oldest sewers. I don't know when they were installed, but the oldest set of sewers was pre-Civil War. So, guess what? The sewers weren't able to handle the "train -ing" storm.

We heard sounds of water in the basement. When I went down the stairs, I saw a Geyser coming out of the basement drain, and an old toilet, as well. (I didn't even know the toilet was still sitting on sewer pipe...) Water was covering the second lowest step (eventually topping off at about two feet), and was up to the top of the bottom bunk mattress.

I learned several things in the aftermath:

1) If you overlook a box of books from the first flood, but find it after the second, don't open it. C-L-O-U-D-S of mold spores will POOF out at you. I don't suffer from allergies, but that one made me sick.

2) Rubbermaid tubs will not protect your possessions if the flood tosses them around so that their lids come off.

3) I don't know if there is anything in the known universe that is as heavy as a mattress soaked through with water. Two hefty teen boys almost gave up a number of times before they wrestled that bad boy up the stairs and out to the trash pile.

Bad as it was, the water receded, leaving a Big Cleanup. But at least it wasn't Molasses.

Ya' Learn Something New Every Day

The last time I was at the Post Office, I picked up these stamps. They feature *pollinators*--creatures that help pollinate plants while going along their merry ways. Pictured are lovely birds, bees, butterflies and...BATS???

What a funny picture? I thought. Around here (in Indiana) we mostly see Barn Bats, who are supposed to eat their weight in mosquitoes every day. (we LOVE our bats!) But mosquitoes as an entree would make those babies Carnivores, right? What's with the sissy pollination stuff?

A quick look on Google tells me this:

In the desert, and in tropical regions, bats are important both for pollination
and seed dispersal.

The article is here.

Sure enough, if you look at the postage stamp, that little guy is pollinating some sort of desert specie.

How wonderful if we can learn something every day!

Next time: The Great Molasses Disaster of 1919....

A Lovely Week

Oh, oh, OH, I am loving this fall weather!! It really energizes me, inspires me, fills me!

I began my own version of the simple shawl featured on Jewel's blog. It is simple enough to carry around without having to keep track of instructions.

I've wanted to make a shawl for just years and years. I almost never get "cold"--I wear a sweater outside for much of the winter. However, our computer desk sits in a corner surrounded by two walls of windows, and, being an old house, it can get drafty. I think a shawl will be perfect:
A couple of years ago, I found about ten skeins of wool at a thrift store, for 25 cents apiece:
I think it's "sport" weight, (tho' the label doesn't specify). But it is thinner rather than thicker, and the label says "8-ply." But, hey, for 25 cents a skein, who's asking?

Now, let's talk about this little guy: He's been having a tough time--his record is 0-2. Today he plays U of Michigan, also 0-2. I'm not sure which planets are out of alignment for this to happen--I don't think such a happening has ever taken place in this universe, anyway. The scary thing is, tonight *somebody* is going to be 0-3....

************************
Yesterday, my sister -in-law had to travel 100 miles to come to our city for a test. Charming's mother (Queen Darl) and my dear, sister-friend Kay came with Mary to keep her company. I made a Luncheon (darn, I didn't take any pictures of my pretty table...) and we had a wonderful two-hours visit. Questions such as "why don't we ever do this?" came up several times. Queen Darl commented *three times* on the pretty table. We talked about how women love to surround ourselves with beauty, and how women take mundane things, and make them as pretty as they can. I love Edith Schaeffer's book, "The Hidden Art of Homemaking," and the point she stresses that God is a Creator, and made us creative, as well. It reminds me of a quote I read taken from a pioneer woman's diary:

"I make quilts as fast as I can to keep my family warm, and as pretty as I can to keep my heart from breaking."

So now the plan is to have a lunch Twice a Year. That way, we'll "fer sure" hit Once.

Repurposed Tablecloth

As you can see, I have been needing a new ironing board cover for A Long Time:
Pitiful. Just Pitiful.

I had a vintage tablecloth I had bought a number of years ago for a dollar or so. Since then, we bought a dining room table that was too large for it, and I thought it would make a cute cover.

I decided to make it easier on myself, so I bought a pattern (McCalls 2723) at the $1.99 sale at JoAnn's. I centered the pattern piece smack on the center of the design. Ooh, this went against my Mom's scotch-ness! (Remember drawing a picture right in the middle of a piece of paper, and your mom having to teach you to start in a corner, so you could get several drawings on a paper?)

I wanted it really thick, so I cut a piece out of cotton batting (warm and natural, $4.99 a yard on sale. I bought a yard and a quarter for this project.) Then I centered the batting on the ironing board, and traced around the actual board with a sharpie. I then folded and pinned the batting to the "new," smaller size, and cut two more pieces out of the batting...

...and sewed them to the bigger piece, using the marker-marks as a guide:

I then attached the batting to the fabric:

The pattern called for double wide bias tape, but I had a package of quilt binding in my stash. The color didn't matter, because this part is under the board:

The pattern called for 1/4" elastic, and I didn't have enough. I threaded crochet cotton through it, and here is the finished product:

I did my Saturday night ironing, and it was glorious! Of course, the thicker the pad, the better the ironing is, so this was heavenly, compared to what I had been dealing with.

I did pay about $6.50 for the batting, but since super-deluxe ironing pads are about $16.99 at Target, I still made out.

I was a little disappointed at the crochet cotton--I can't seem to pull it tight enough for my taste, so I may re-do it with elastic. I could have also done a layer of Insul-Brite (the stuff you put in potholders) for a heat-reflective thing, but I didn't have enough on hand, and didn't want to go back to the store.

With all of that tablecloth left over, I cut a few napkins--the designs are not centered, but for everyday lunches they'll be fun. I also cut a few pieces with individual "fruits" for future apron pockets.

I loved this because it was a one-evening job, and I got it done and put away before Charming came home. This is always a Good Thing!

Oh! Frabjous Day!

Callou, callay!

Peter Pan is back on my local grocery shelves after being recalled since February. Actually, around here, we all thought it had been off the shelves for at least a year or two....

Life is worth living again.

Bridal Shower

(This post was first published August 30, 2006.)

Yesterday was my birthday, and I felt melancholy here and there throughout the day. It was my first since Mom passed away. Every birthday after I left home, Mother and Daddy would call me early in the morning and sing to me--most often the first greeting of the day.Today would have been my Mom and Dad's 65th wedding anniversary. I always felt special, being their "14th anniversary present."

Mother had a "bride's book," which in no way resembles what we now call a "Wedding Album." Or even what my daughter and daughter-in-law had as a "wedding planner." Two-inch binders with places for cards, ribbons, and other mementos. Mother's was the size of one of those black "composition books," only about a quarter as thick, probably thirty pages or so. It is wonderful because it is handwritten by her--her own memories of her wedding.

She had a wedding shower. I notice that now we have several of them: kitchen, linen, personal, couples...she had *one*. She made quite a haul, mostly with linens. Several sets of "luncheon cloth and napkins"--those fabulous 1940's sets that we snatch up at antique stores. "Embroidered tea towels." "Embroidered pillowslips." Don't I wish I had them now? But, naturally, they were given and received in order to be used, and used UP. (I do have one of a pair of guest towels that she embroidered in the first year of her marriage--so threadbare, but it still says GUEST, with a garland of flowers all around.)

When we buy these vintage linens, we always think about the women who made them and used them. We'd love to feel the connection to another time. Women just like my mother, whose entry under "Our First Home," tells of how, after their wedding night, they just wanted to come home, so they "brought groceries home, and [she] fixed her first meal," the second night of their marriage.So much lay ahead for them--they were married months before Pearl Harbor. They were destined to raise only five of their thirteen children to adulthood. Two cancers. The everyday ups and downs plus the "added dose" of sorrow for their lives, could not be seen when she filled out her "bride's book."

We all share that, in this Sisterhood of women. So many hopes and dreams as we open those wedding shower gifts. Life moves along, humdrum or tragic, year by year. I am so grateful to our Lord that He gave my parents 64 years. A marriage in which their love grew more deeply as every anniversary rolled around. I had a model of How to Do Marriage Well that enabled me to choose a husband wisely, and to be an example for me, for 30 years so far, and is now the model for my children to follow. That is the inheritance I have from them. I would have loved to have the linens from that long-ago bridal shower, but I have the better gift in the example of their LIVES. That gift will never be "used up."

Birthday Fun Times

Well, it's my BIRTHDAY! I'm as old as there are cards in a (complete) deck of cards. Does this mean I'm now playing with a full deck?

Lily and her children came over this morning to sing to Grandma. How blessed I am to have them live so close!

Then, this afternoon, Forget-me-not brought Blueberry over! I got lots of love from him. Forget-me-not related the happy news that morning sickness is all but over for this time around. Oh, I remember those days well--do we ever forget them?

Since I had So Much Company, I decided to treat myself to lunch by myself at Cracker Barrel (with three hundred other people; yeah, I know...) I was not aware that I got a free dessert on my birthday--peach cobbler with ice cream. Oh, it's all good.

Since it is Wednesday (kids going to church) and Charming working today, we will have Dinner and Cake another night next week. Charming is due home soon, and we will have a couple of hours Alone. Together. Treat supreme!

I Finally took a picture of the quilt Blackeyed Susan and I made for her friend's high school graduation. It is very simple, pretty prints in a five-patch pattern. With the alternating plain squares, it almost looks like an Irish Chain:
The back is a butterfly/frog/dragonfly themed "cheater quilt":

We tied it with purple crochet thread, and I bound it in a purple tonal fabric.

The other thing I've been doing recently is knitting dishcloths. *JUST* as I snapped the picture, our cat sprang across my view:

Blackeyed Susan had to hold him so I could take the photo:

I still have four or five balls of cotton yarn, so I'll keep on going, and have a few quickie gifts ready in my gift box. These are quick and fun!

Don Quixote made me a custom card with the sentiment, "52 is the new 42--the answer to Life, the Universe, and Everything"--a reference to The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Universe, and to something I heard recently, about 60 being the New 40. Yeah, I am so into that....

Why, yes, my family IS weird...

Heard around the homeschool this week:

--the difference between a troubadour and a minstrel (thank you, World Book!)

--the founding of Rome: 753 B.C., the fall of Rome 476 A.D., the fall of Constantinople, formerly Byzantium, futurely Istanbul, 1453 A.D.

--trying to remember the lyrics to They Might Be Giants' "Istanbul not Constantinople"

--chuckling over Don Quixote's using the Fall of Constantinople (1453) as his default setting on his wristwatch alarm

--Kingdom Monera (including bacteria), listening to restaurant managers Daddy and Joe Hardy regaling us with food-borne illness stories they learned at Serv-Safe classes. Eeuuww.

--Learning that a "mild" case of botulism can cause high fever, vomiting, and severe diarrhea, and laughing at anyone who would inject such a poison in their body (i.e., Botox)

--Laughing at women in the 1890's who took little bits of arsenic to make themselves "pale."

--Dividing expressions with "x" variables, such as 3x - 6 over 3, divided by, 4 over 6x - 12. Blackeyed Susan asking, "when would I ever use this in real life?" Me answering, well, unless you work in Math, I guess NEVER. But, you still have to learn it, so you can do Higher Math that you will never use again, either.

--Okay, kids, time to read. "Can't we clean the bathrooms instead?" Alien children. I have Alien children...

edited to add: By the way, I took Latin class beginning in 1969, and *I* remembered the dates of the founding and fall of Rome. (preening my feathers, here). Maybe that doesn't say so much, because I also remember David Cassidy's birthday is April 12, and Donny Osmond's is December 9, from the Tiger Beat magazines my friend and I read. Maybe all information remembered is not all that useful...but if you ever need to know the dates of the founding and fall of Rome, let me know...

Of Games and Books, and Family Rivalry

I was reading this post over at the Common Room and thought about a memory of my own, playing the game CatchPhrase.

It was our custom for many years to buy a new game at Christmas-- like Guesstures, Crack the Case, Tri-bond, Apples to Apples--you get the picture. My children are SO competitive at games, that they have banned several from ever being played again, at least by the group. Others they give a forty-five minute time limit to, before two or three (unnamed) persons Ruin It For Everybody, and they have to put the game away and huff around for awhile until they Get Over It.

Somehow, CatchPhrase has never caused any arguments, and is a game that my younger two were able to join in with. So, even if we get a new game at Christmas, after the Big Blowup, we will pull out CatchPhrase once again.

A couple of years ago, my brother hosted an informal Game night sometime Christmas week. Four or five of my children came along, both kids-in-law, and my other brother with his kids. We decided to play CatchPhrase, and counted off one-two-one-two around the circle, to determine teams. No one noticed at that time that both my brothers and I ended up on team Two. We began to play, and it was soon evident that Three Of Us had grown up in the same environment. bam. Bam. BAM! One game after another we won, won, won. It was really fun to see what clues each would come up with.

Now, I am really proud of my own Family Culture--my daughter- and son-in-law are always proud to learn another Piece of it for their Arsenal. But even though there are more of *them,* my two brothers and I Smashed 'em to pieces!

Actually, the point of this post was going to be something about how you need to celebrate your family culture, and how it likes to come out and play with you at get-together time. But somehow, I got really Violently Excited about beating my children. Like the old joke:

Do you beat your children?
Yes, all the time.
What?
Well, how else will they learn to play checkers?

In other news, my sister (who lives across the country) and I have decided to Read A Book together. She said she missed many of the *classics* the first time around, but wasn't interested in swashbuckling stories or Two Years Before the Mast or anything like that. We decided to think about a book or two and talk later.

She called back and suggested Lost Horizon by James Hilton (one of my fave books) and Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand, because she knew many people who had read it. I looked it up on the library website--1075 pages. That is One Thousand, Seventy-Five. Pages.

So, I guess we will start with Lost Horizon.

Small Treasures from a Summer Day

God is the coolest! This morning we found, resting on the porch wall, what appeared to be an old brown leaf, but in reality was some kind of moth:
Another opportunity to discuss the creativity of God, putting natural camouflage in place for species that are "prey ."

Here is booty from a small thrifting adventure. I thought I was getting a great bargain, at nineteen cents apiece. Until you look closer at the original seventeen cent price marks!

I am so excited to get those Veil Pins--all of my veils were so messy before! :) They were stuck into the crochet yarn, for 59 cents.

I also got Alvin Fernald a pair of brown leather Skechers for $3.00. He says he will only be able to wear them a little while, as his toes are "right at the end." Sigh. Here I thought he'd have to wait awhile until his feet Grew Into Them. What are you going to do with a 12-year old? Love 'em and feed 'em, I guess...

Word Play

For my pregnant Daughter Forget-me-not and Daughter-in-law Lily:

In the throes of morning sickness
She throws up thrice a day.
It threw her for a loop
Well before it was through.
It's influence was thorough.

About Violet (far from the "shrinking" kind)

Today is Violet's birthday!

Because of her job as rector of a women's dorm, she is in the throes of Training New R.A.'s. Then comes Move-In Weekend, Freshman activities (she calls them "the babies," as in, "Mom, the babies are coming next week!") followed by Opening Football Weekend ("wake up the echoes, cheering her name" will give you a clue as to Which university we are talking about). Since she is in the midst of the four Most Stressful weeks of her year, I don't know how she is celebrating. I'd be glad to make her a cake, if I could find her...

Right out of the box (if you will) she was feisty--a drama queen to the max. The best big-sister ever, inventing fun things to do. A daughter of which to be ultra-proud. She loves the Lord, and loves her family. Just an all-around Quality Girl.

So, kiddo, wherever you are, running around campus, have a wonderful day. And would you please send those game tickets our way?

Conversation in the Dugout

Alvin Fernald (aged twelve) talking with his thirteen-year-old baseball buddy last week:

Buddy: Dude, how old is your Mom?

Alvin: She's fifty-one.

Buddy: Dude!

Alvin: She had me when she was thirty-nine.

Buddy: Dude! My Mom's not thirty-nine yet!!

Sigh. Some days I feel older than others.

A Piece of History Washes Ashore

"On a [late fall] day when the sea was rippled
By a soft and gentle breeze
A ship set sail for a harbor laden
To a port beyond the seas.
There were fond farewells and loving signals
While her form was yet discerned,
But they knew not 'twas a solemn parting,
For the ship has never returned.

--"The Ship that Never Returned"--Henry Clay Work

Although Barry Bonds is All Over the News with his home-run record, (and all of the controversy surrounding....) I found this article much more interesting. Maybe you are too young to remember this (it happened in 1975), but I remember my horror that this kind of thing still happened. I understand why sailors have a great respect for the sea:

http://www.freerepublic.com/focus/f-news/1877970/posts

Gordon Lightfoot memorialized this event in song:

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they called Gitchee Gumee
Superior, it's said, never gives up her dead
When the skies of November turn gloomy
With a load of iron ore twenty-six thousand tons more
Than the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty.
That good ship and true was a bone to be chewed
When the gales of November came early
.....
In a musty old hall in Detroit they prayed,
In the Maritime Sailors Cathedral.
The church bell chimed till it rang twenty-nine times
For each man on the Edmund Fitzgerald.

--"The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald"--Gordon Lightfoot

Last Week's Projects

Yippee! I finished binding my black-and-white quilt with bias-cut striped fabric. It also looked very cool on the back side:
My dishcloths were in shreds, so I found all my cotton yarn. I looked up a website here to get a few cute patterns. Here you see the Pear Cloth:

I made a plain one out of a partial ball of green variegated, and last night I began a basketweave in yellow (while watching the movie Rebecca:

We are so excited here because *both* Forget-me-not and Lily are expecting babies in March! So I dragged out seven pieces of flannel that I had bought at a $1.99 sale at Jo-Ann's. I cut them to size and hemmed them up Sunday afternoon:

Saturday we traveled to Charming's mother's home for a party to welcome our nephew and his best friend home from Iraq. What a special time, rejoicing that the Lord has brought them home safely.

Swimming was the order of the day for the Cousins (Alvin Fernald in the middle, Blackeyed Susan along the side in the ponytail, Don Quixote beside her):

I preferred sitting in the swing, listening to the guys. I usually try to be in the vicinity when Music Breaks Out (Charming in the plaid shirt):

A very full day of sun and food. No talking on the two-hour trip home--snoozing was the order of the night . We absolutely dragged ourselves out of bed for church--the reason I try not to have a Big Night on Saturdays. But absolutely worth the trip--Charming saw brother and sister friends from his growing-up years he hadn't seen in twenty-five years or more. Family is the coolest!

A Faithful Friend and True

Alvin Fernald had taken care of a guinea pig that belonged to a missionary family while they were overseas for six months. We returned Gracie to her family last Saturday. Unfortunately, Gracie stopped eating, and passed away last evening. Corduroy (shown above) came out of semi-retirement to comfort Alvin.

I looked up this information here:

"Usually, the first signs of illness in your guinea pig will be a loss of appetite and lethargy. Although not all illnesses affect the guinea pig in the same way, if you see your cavy huddled in the corner of the hutch, refusing to eat or drink, it is almost always indicative of a serious affliction. Being herbivores, guinea pigs eat almost constantly, and metabolize food very quickly. If, for any reason, they stop eating, it should be considered a very serious condition, as the guinea pig could die in a matter of hours. Some illnesses can also cause diarrhea, which is even more serious. Diarrhea can dehydrate a guinea pig very quickly, which can also cause death if not treated right away."

Rest in peace, Gracie.

You Know You Need a Haircut When...

Parentheses have Landed on your Forehead.

Everybody Clap for Barbie

I got my mammogram today. This finishes my yearly exam/bloodwork/pap/mammy thing. Only I missed a couple three years. [WHERE does the time go?]

Okay, so you can say "shame on you" before you clap.

Have you done your yearly thing yet?

Wednesday update:
I received a letter today: "We are glad to inform you that your recent mammogram is Normal." Happy day!

Show and Tell Friday

Forget-me-not put together this patriotic puzzle that Charming brought home from Cracker Barrel. I am going to use it for the rest of the summer as a "placemat" in a centerpiece for my cluster-of-flags-in-a-jar and candles:
I really must brag on my two puzzle-experts, Johnny Tremain and Forget-me-not. They had the same second-grade teacher at a small Christian school. Charlotte had been a missionary in China for eight years, and so she was Not At All Traditional when it came to teaching second-graders. When the children finished their seatwork, they were able to go to a station where a 1000-piece puzzle was always "in process." No one told her that seven-year-olds are not capable of doing 1000-piece puzzles, and no one told the second-graders, either. Now when we are doing one at home, it is like second-nature to these two. Forget-me-not is *so* good that once the puzzle is about half-done, she looks at the shape of the space and then looks over the pile of pieces and chooses one. She hardly ever, ever is wrong on the first try. Johnny Tremain is the Speed Person of the team.

I'm not sure when this week that Alvin Fernald took some scary photos of himself, but I found them today. The scary part (to me) is not the face he makes, or whatever he had eaten, but look at the size of those TONSILS. I'll have to investigate this further: So fun for me: Finally getting to the quilting on a gift-quilt, and look at that Fuh-Hab-U-Lous backing fabric with lush roses:

Thanks to Canada Girl for hosting Show and Tell Friday.

Validation--Yes, I *Am* Cool!

I

Rock!!

Check out my other blog to see that I've been awarded the Rockin' Girl Blogger award!

(I can hold this over my kids' heads forever.)

Finished Project

I finally finished my five-bag project from LAST summer. Here is the bag I made for Violet: Inside, she has lots of pockets to use:

The bags I made for my sister and my daughters (and -in-law) all turned out bigger than they looked on the pattern. Lily and Forget-me-not use hers for diaper bags, Blackeyed Susan for going to concerts (holds water bottle, camera, and Everything Else) and my sister used hers for a trip, like a carry-on! She told me it just matched a blazer she had bought, so that was fun.

Violet lives 100 miles away now, and she asked me for my copy of last year's phone book, which I have stuck inside her bag, and there is still plenty of room to put things for a weekend away...

These bags were so fun, putting three or four funky fabrics together for fun details. And, it is nice to have Finished Something.

Last evening I basted a quilt, part of my Two-year, Five Quilt project. Here's how it stands:

--Five quilt tops finished

--Four basted

--One quilted

All since January 1st!

I also finished a yo-yo project this week, which still has to be kept "under wraps" because it is a gift. Next on the list--a laundry basket full of fabrics and apron patterns. I just can't get a handle on Where to Begin that project...

Later today, I am taking off to retrieve my two youngest offspring, who have spent the last nine days on vacation with their grandparents. The week has been fun and relaxing without them, but life is always better (for me) at home than anywhere else, so I am looking forward to having them back!

Button, Button, Who's Got the Button?

"Aunt Docia's dress was a sprigged print, dark blue, with sprigs of red flowers and green leaves thick upon it. The basque was buttoned down the front with black buttons which looked so exactly like juicy big blackberries that Laura wanted to taste them."

--Little House in the Big Woods, pp. 142-3

Whenever I read that passage, I think about two very special buttons in my mother's button box. They were a winey-plum color and they were shaped like raspberries. They were my favorites, and I had visions of owning them when I got older.

Mother's button box was one of those round fruitcake tins. Most of the buttons were ordinary, ripped off of a garment that was being sent to the rag drawer. Others were more fun; I remember a couple of rhinestone buttons, and a number of more colorful ones as well. There were only one or two of many of them--others had four or five.

I firmly believe that every woman should have a button box. They are a wonderful rainy-day plaything for children (over three years old, of course!)--I spent many hours just running my hands through the pile, over and over. Very therapeutic, I think!

When we had to break up housekeeping for my parents five years ago, I was delighted to find the button tin in the closet! But, lo and behold, when I opened it, it had a few packages of bias tape and that cheap lace stuff that is supposed to be used in hems. Not a button appeared at all in the entire house! I asked Mom about them, and she couldn't recall when or what might have happened to them--and my two raspberry buttons.

Sigh. But I transferred my own button collection to my Mother's tin, and now my grandchildren are enjoying playing with it.

I recently went thrifting, and found a few cards of vintage buttons for just a quarter apiece:
Nothing shaped like raspberries, mind you, but fun! Besides the button box, I keep a green Mason jar filled with white buttons--I like the look, sitting in my sewing room on a shelf.

My find-of-the-week was a number of Grandmother's flower garden blocks, some without the outside row of squares:

Forget-me-not is making a Grandmother's Flower Garden, but hers will have more of a 1960's feel than the 30's feel of these squares. Sometimes I think it is sad that these squares sell rather cheaply--the large ones were $2, the smaller $1.50--but then, you can never get enough money for the work that is put into a handmade quilt. And, even though the owner's (descendants?) sold the squares because they had no use for them, we get to enjoy them!

Is there anything special in *your* button box? Why don't you pull it out the next rainy day?

Word Play

Aargh, me hearties--my mind is wanderin' today, about words and such. One pair is "hearty" and "hardy." I've seen both used with the word "appetite," though I would probably only use "hearty." The dictionary says that Hardy means "capable of enduring fatigue, hardship, exposure; sturdy." Like a having a Hardy Constitution, or favorite late-summer Hardy Mums. As well as, of course, the Hardy Boys, who enjoyed both Hearty Appetites *and* Hearty Laughter....

There are several definitions for the word "hearty:"
--physically vigorous; strong and well (as in Hale and Hearty)
--substantial, abundant, nourishing (as in a Hearty Meal, tho' if you use the meaning of "abundant," you might get away with Hardy Appetite!)
--warm-hearted, affectionate, cordial, jovial (as in a Hearty Welcome)
--genuine, sincere, heartfelt (as in Hearty Approval or Hearty Dislike)
--exuberant, unrestrained (as in Hearty Laughter)

Then there is the definition--a sailor (aargh, me hearties!)

After thinking about Hearty/Hardy for awhile, my mind wandered to the word Mum (probably because it is time to buy Hardy Mums).

We have the term of endearment for "mother," from the Brits--how much do I love visiting blogs where the description is "mum to four," or whatever.

Mum can also mean silent, as in Keep Mum--remember Loose Lips Sink Ships! She was mum on the subject--is this word a noun, verb, or adjective? Maybe all of them?

The flower--of course, *mum* is an abbreviation for the word Chrysanthemum--always a biggie at spelling bees. Isn't the royal Japanese throne called Chrysanthemum? So cool.

Chrysanthemum reminded me of one of Joe Hardy's classmates in school--a girl of Greek extraction named Xrisanthi (pronounced Chris-on-thee). The *X*, pronounced "chris" is the same X as in the Chi Rho symbol for Christ. See an image of the Chi Rho here.

When I was little, I called the Chi Rho the P-X, probably because my sister married an Air Force guy, and she shopped at the B-X. Then I thought that the P-X was also a symbol for Pax, the Latin word for Peace (they still had Latin Mass when I was little). Certainly any symbol that meant "Christ" would also mean "peace."

So now, at nine a.m. on a Saturday (now I'm thinking of the Billy Joel song "Piano Man--"it's nine o'clock on a Saturday"--only he meant nine P.M.) and I'm totally confused about Words and such. And the front porch is calling--a gorgeous, gorgeous morning. So I will follow its Siren Song, with my hearty/hardy appetite, and maybe go get some hearty/hardy mums as well!

And Try to stop Thinking.

Check Out This Fun Contest!

Mrs. U over at Making a House a Home is celebrating her Blog Anniversary by giving away some very cool prizes!

Go on over and check her out!

Week in Review

Grands getting cool in the pool:
Pretty thrift store plates:

Two more "state" plates. Charming is from Michigan. I don't have any connection to Arkansas, but the old-timey green pattern goes with my vintage dinnerware, so I had to have it:

Pretty blue dish to hold three yellow candles:

Finished quilt top with NYC theme:

Here is a close-up of some New York squares. The observant among you will notice the IU square--yes, IU is still in Indiana! The recipient of this quilt is an IU alum:

Another close-up. I just love the Fireworks fabric in the outside triangles:

I am moving right along with quilting Number One of Five quilts in my two-year project. This finished quilt top is Number Five of Five. Yippee! All since January 1st.

This morning I *found* the public rooms of the house under a Hansel and Gretel trail of toys that the grandbabies hid from me throughout the week. I think I saw all four everyday--now *That* is a great week!!

Happy Birthday, Daddy!

My Daddy turns 85 today.

His birthday was always the first "full" day of summer, and every year, when we greeted him in the morning, he would say, "Winter's comin': the days are getting shorter!" (very funny in the days pre-air-conditioning...) His birthday also always fell the same week as Father's Day. That's why you didn't see a post on Sunday about How Fabulous He Is.

The story goes that his mother went to the circus the day before he was born; then went home and went directly into labor with him. "Loved the monkeys so much, she wanted one of her own," Daddy says. He was born in a little country house in Huntington County, Indiana. My grandma told me that, in the 20's, you never left the church sanctuary to nurse your baby; neither did you bother covering up. She told me you just "whipped it out, nobody paid no mind."

Daddy had the reputation as a wild boy. My favorite story is how he and a friend put an outhouse on top of the bank building downtown. My question was always, Why? but then, I'm a girl, so I guess I'd never understand, anyway.

Daddy was a fly-boy in WWII (dubya-dubya Two--The Big One), so I've heard a lot of stories. He came home to his wife and two babies, and made a good life. I was born eighth in the family--he was 33. He was a cutting-edge technology kinda guy--we all had great stereos in the 70's--he would "upgrade" and give us the "last year's model." He bought a video camera (black and white) when the camera was not the "recorder": you also had to carry a vcr in a sling on your shoulder. The cheapest place to buy a blank vcr tape was at the GE employee store--$35.00 Apiece. He bought a calculator when they were the New Thing: four-function (add, subtract, multiply, divide): $100.00. My brother has it; I have the next model, adding a square-root feature.

So many, many things I could tell you about him; so many ways in which I am grateful for the Man He Is. He taught me about my heavenly Father by his example. He proved a perfect model for me, when it came time to choose a husband. As a Grandpa, there is none better. As a Daddy, he is the Absolute Best.

Happy Birthday, Daddy. I'll always be your Barbie Doll.

Pieces of a Day

I've been at the sewing machine for weeks now, doing quilt tops and a few other sundry things. My neck and lower back are beginning to scream at me, begging for relief. So last night, I put an ice pack on my neck, leaned back on the sofa, and began to quilt this project: Oh, OH, I love quilting!! The in, out, in, out of the needle; then pulling the thread through--what a rush!

***********************************************
I keep a long-running list in my head of things I want, but don't want to pay full price for. I have been able to get two of them in the last few days! At a garage sale on Saturday, I picked up another set of Tupperware popsicle makers. I have other, cheaper ones, but the "stems" break from time to time. The Tupperware ones are much better. Right now in the freezer I have one set doing duty as popsicles, and another as pudding pops. *That* is a great deal--29 cent instant pudding from Aldi's and 2 cups of milk make nine pops.

Another thing on my "list" was the Handbook of Nature Study by Anna Botsford Comstock. This is an 850-page paperback, and every year I think I'm going to buy it, but other curriculum needs cry out more urgently. But yesterday at the Used Curriculum Sale, I found it for $4.00:

Not only that, but the owner had had it spiral-bound in two volumes--much nicer to handle!

Today is Okay-a-week-of-summer-break-is-over-and-we-need-a-LITTLE-routine-here Day. We I went over again Daily Chores, Reading Plans, and, midst groans of disappointment, declared the house a No-Media Zone for the day. So, I'd better get off, before they catch me....

Fun Times

Saturday evening was fun. Charming was working, and Alvin Fernald was on a campout, leaving Blackeyed Susan and me alone. Johnny Tremain was in Chicago at bachelor-party digs for a college friend, leaving Lily and the children alone. The obvious answer was to spend the evening together at Lily's!

I had leftover barbeque chicken, mashed 'taters and corn for Susan and me, and Lily cooked for her crew. Once supper was finished, our project for the evening was Laying Out Quilts, because there isn't enough room anywhere at my house to do this.

I had four tops done, and only one backing put together. We were able to sew those, and to lay out three of them to pin. Lily and Susan crawled around, pinning the "sandwiches" together, because my knees are unwilling to do it. They Joked about me paying them for their work--ha. My mother said that Work Well Done Is Its Own Reward. I know they think so, too!

We left the last top undone, becuase Lily and Susan had to do the first one twice--large, large wrinkles appeared as they took it up from the floor. They got a little grouchy, and I don't understand why--work well done being its own reward, and all. But since I have the squares done for two more tops, we (they) will pin them with the undone one when I get the other tops finished.

I spent Sunday and Monday basting two of the quilts, so they are ready to quilt. My a/c at home is Feast or Famine--of course it is least effective in my own bedroom, but seems to work Very Well in the Den, with the vent right behind the couch, so the frigid air comes rushing out over your feet as you watch tv. So doing some quilting, with the bulk of the quilt hanging over my feet sounds like a Great Summertime Activity.

This morning Lily and I are going to the Used Curriculum Sale put on by our homeschool association. I have gotten some dynamic dealies there before, and hope to again. I need to stay away from the Boxes and Boxes of Books for 10 and 25 cents. I Simply Don't Have Room For Them.

Or maybe I'll buy another bookcase today at Wal-mart...

I'm a Winner!!!

Wow! I'm a winner over at Life is Like a Lunchbox's Apronpalooza!! If you click on the link, you'll see the dreamy apron I won.

Here is ztoamom, who made the apron I won. You can find her "artsy" blog here.

I'm so glad that aprons are making a comeback. I have been in the middle of a two-year, five-quilt project (6 months down and doin' *okay* so far...), but I am itchin' to get into the Apron Thing. I have collected some fabrics and patterns that are waiting for me to "do them up!"

I remember the beginnings of the Feminist movement in the late '60's. Aprons were considered chains that held women to the home, keeping them from their destinies. So for the most part, they went by the wayside.

Yet, we never "looked down on" gardeners who wore aprons, or chefs, (or husband-barbeque-types) or welders, or...whomever *else* wore aprons. Now, think about why these people wear aprons:

To keep their clothes clean.

So, we were "freed" from the apron strings, but chained to the washing machine?

I'm glad to see the return of the apron, more for the Femininity than anything else. I remember my Mother putting on her apron in the morning--that signalled that she was ready for her day. (She had at least seven. It was my job to iron them--back in the day (for you younger gals) young girls started by learning to iron "flat" things--hankies, aprons, pillowcases.) My grandmother made my Mom's aprons--I remember she went through a phase of Cross-Stitching On Gingham--easy to do, and it made it a little fancier.

I don't have any of my mother's or grandmother's aprons--they were thrown out of even the rag-bag long ago. I did make quite a haul at a thrift store a few years ago--I got 12 or 15 aprons for 25 cents apiece (the cashier didn't even know what to charge me!) that were starched and folded--looked like someone just dumped a drawerful of Grandma's treasures after she passed away. Each one is "fancied" up in one way or another--a shapely pocket, embroidery, bindings. Women in former days knew that making your "tools" a little prettier took away some of the drudgery.

If you want a "crash course" in Aprons, go visit Apronista and find your Apron Groove...

Addendum to Previous Post

Okay, so reading over the post below, I sound a little defensive. Okay, Quite A Bit defensive.

Charming (one of whose major jobs in this marriage is to Talk Me Down From Ledges) made me realize that most, if not all people who pose the question "describe yourself," are not trying to Degrade Motherhood and Marriage. Maybe *they* don't take the time to pose the question exactly as they want it answered.

How easy it would be, Charming says, if , when asked to describe myself, I reply, "what would you like to know?" That way, the questioner could say, "what kind of books do you like to read? what do you like to do when you have a day by yourself? what do you like to do on vacation?" and I would not intimate from their *tone,* "you loser, aren't you anything but a baby factory? do you just like to hide behind your husband, you mousey good-for-nothing?"

See. Talking Me Down From The Ledge Once Again.

That's why I love this man.

Who I Am, Really

I was interested by the thoughts posed by the Headmistress at the Common Room, who was commenting on the book
Seasons of a Family's Life by Wendy Wright. The Headmistress is talking about defining ourselves as Mothers, also as Wives.

I have been in the situation many times, where I am asked to "describe myself." When I begin, "I am a wife of 31 years, mother of eight..." I get no further when the person interrupts: "No. Tell me who YOU are, not whose "wife" you are, or whose "mother" you are."

This always frustrates me. So, so much of my identity is wrapped up in those relationships. I'm not "me" without them.

When I came to motherhood at nineteen (and marriage ten weeks later, at twenty), I was a certain person, a person with so-and-so personality, and so-and-so both interesting and irritating characteristics. I am in no way that person anymore (tho' maybe the Irritations are still there!). Now I can say, "I am a person with a certain amount of patience, for 'Tribulation worketh patience,' and being a wife and mother has cultivated that." I can say, "I am a person who has acquired some Wisdom, both from being married, raising eight children, and by "just getting up in the morning."" I can say, "I am a person with quite a store of Interpersonal Relationship Skills," by reason of the same.

The questioner retorts, "But, if you didn't *have* a husband or children, how would you describe yourself?"

What an unanswerable question. I cannot describe myself outside of these relationships. You can't close Pandora's box, neither can I ever separate Who I Am from those relationships.

When pressed, I could say, "I am a quilter," or "I am a reader," or, "I am a Non-Confrontational person, a Peace-maker,(or any other facets of my temperament)", but those monikers seem so absolutely empty for me. I have a high IQ, but really had very little Common Sense until my forties. I had "some college," but got married in the middle. Even if I had a degree (a thing for which to be proud, and which no one could take away from me), it would be just an Accomplishment, not really a description of "who I am."

Nope. I prefer to describe myself BY my relationships; daughter of my Father God, daughter, sister, wife, mother, mother-in-law, grandma, friend, good neighbor, and on and on. These, I think, are much more important that What I've Accomplished.

When all is said and done, I want people, not Accomplishments, to be standing beside me at the end of my life. These are who I am.