Update, and Other Stuff.

Things are looking up for Baby Nettie (Myra). She responded quickly after they finally got an IV in (naturally)--Lily noticed that her eyes were no longer sunken, and her little jowls puffed back up (only in a baby are jowls considered "cute!"). They will check electrolytes this morning, and hopefully, she will be coming home sometime today. Thank you all so much for your prayers.

*********************************
Still working on Joe Hardy's birthday quilt (now almost 30 days past birthday). The good news is that I *think* I'll be finished by Memorial Day! I am anxious to take the "finished" photo on that one, to share with you. He will be able to use it all summer, because he sleeps in the basement next to the a/c. Since we live in an old house with leaky ductwork...let's just say it's the Coolest room in the house!

But before I can continue on Joe's quilt, I need to make birthday gifts for Sweet Pea, who is turning four this week. She wants a ballet outfit for her doll. I got the incredible reuse/recycle idea to use an old pink t-shirt for the fabric for the leotard. The tutu will be easy-schmeasy: remember the fifteen yards of purple tulle from Blackeyed Susan's prom dress? Yeah. Lots of leftovers. And Sweet Pea requested a "pink and purple" outfit.

Perfect.


************************************
I finished my "monster trilogy" that I began last summer. (I was going to link to the blog entry, but it is over on Homeschoolblogger, and they are re-doing their entire site, and I can't access the archives.) In my ongoing effort to read some of the classics I missed the first time around (you know, high school...) I read Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, and Frankenstein. In my blog entry of last year, I noted that I was surprised that in both of the books, the "hero" did what he did in order to honor the Lord. Dr. Jekyll was looking for a formula that separated the good and bad parts of our personalities so that people would be able to live in their "good" part all of the time. Unfortunately, it so happened that the "bad" part prevailed. Dr. Frankenstein was trying to find a way to generate life from the dead in order to restore children to life who had died from disease. He sorta forgot, however, Who is the Author of life.

So, on to Dracula. The book is long (417 pages) and it took me several weeks to read. It is set up as a series of journal entries by several of the characters. The story was predictable, tho', as in the case of the other two books, much, much better than any of the movie versions. For most of the book, the only references to God were the use of the crucifix and the communion wafer as deterrents to the "undead" characters. Finally, about page 365, Van Helsing makes a speech about why they are doing what they are doing, referencing God's saving work through the death of His Son.

So, I can cross another "classic" off of my list.

Next I picked one off of another list: Newbery Award winners. This time it is Carry On, Mr. Bowditch. It reads much faster (of course, it *is* a children's book!) and is a good picture of life in the last part of the eighteenth century. Charming had a long period of fascination with "ship" books as a youngster, but I never indulged. My next classic will probably be Two Years Before the Mast, since I'll be in the "life at sea" mode...

I just picked up from the library This Momentary Marriage by John Piper. I hope to read a chapter a day along with my devotions.

******************************************
Finally...horrors! Susan called me from upstairs this morning--she saw a mouse! I have several questions:

a) Mice come in houses in the fall, not the spring. There is plenty to eat outside.

b) Mice that have dared to enter our home come in through a hole near the back door, and either go to the kitchen or down the basement stairs. How did one little guy get all the way upstairs?

c) Where was my cat? The fact is (and why we never fixed the hole by the back door...) when we don't have a cat, we get mice. When we have a cat, we don't have mice. Joe Hardy grabbed Sherman and took him upstairs, but he didn't seem interested. I think we give him too many kitty-treats....

d) I need to buy a trap, b/c I obviously cannot trust my attack-cat any longer.

We have not had to deal with this for eleven years. I feel betrayed.

Please pray for baby Myra...

Update: They were finally able to get an IV in, so the dehydration will very soon be taken care of. Myra is taking a paci for the first time since Saturday, and wants to nurse (appetite?). Lily's last facebook post said they were delaying her nursing. (WHY?) So thanks for your prayers, things are looking up!

My grandbaby Myra (Nettie) has been in the hospital since Saturday night. She started choking at home. The ambulance came, but she had stopped by that time. They left, and just a few minutes later, she began again. After three days, they still do not know why she is gagging and choking off and on, but it keeps her from being able to eat. She still has a feeding tube in her tummy from her first month of life, so she can get nourishment. However, a big problem is that they have not been able to get an IV established.

She also developed a double ear infection, as well as "explosive" diarrhea. (they've given up diapers in lieu of a baby blanket wrapped around her to "catch" everything.) All day yesterday, Lily asked the nurses whether she should be concerned about dehydration--baby's mouth seemed so dry, and skin a funny texture. They did blood tests, and the results this morning show...dehydration. Nettie was transferred to pediatric ICU, and they again failed to get an IV going. They injected some fluid under the skin, hoping to get an IV in, after it is absorbed.

Nettie has lost a pound since she has been in the hospital. Since she was only "almost" eleven pounds when she went in, that is almost 10% of her weight. (she is almost eight months old.)

Please pray for her recovery, and also for wisdom for the doctors, so that they can find out what is wrong with the baby. I thank you in advance!

...in which we feature my gorgeous daughter...

Prom night!

Blackeyed Susan and one-of-her bff's Mads did not have dates for the prom, so they decided to go with two other girlfriends.

[Susan, Mads, and Sam]

[Susan and Mads]

Dinner was at our house: bbq chicken breasts, baked potato, nice salad, and strawberry shortcake. Afterwards, they crowded into our teeny-tiny powder room to freshen up:

[of course, it's a known fact that girls visit the powder room in herds.]

[little photo, but I wanted to show the four girls: Susan, Megan, Sam, and Mads]

***************************************

Changing subjects now.

One of Susan's friends asked her to participate in her photography project for school. Here are two that I grabbed off of facebook:

this one looks super-creepy to me, especially as I am reading
Dracula, and the description of the "undead" is eerily similar to this photo.

this one is not so creepy, more "artistic"-looking to me.

The art show at the high school is tonight. Susan may go, but I have a date with Alvin Fernald for his baseball game. The spring has been so cold/rainy/hail-y/windy that he has had more rained-out games than he has played. So I will be sitting in my hoodie/blanket, with umbrella at my side.

National Apron Day

National Apron Day is Monday!



National Apron Day is the day after Mother's Day, and a day to wear your apron proudly! I would even encourage you to wear it "out" on your daily tasks, as my friend Kaybeautiful and I did last year.

And what could be more fun than a giveaway on this national holiday? Calamity Kim has a darling apron that she is giving away--go on over here to learn more about it.

Kim has some gorgeous, gorgeous things for sale in her etsy shop as well. If you haven't visited before, get yourself a cuppa and plan to stay for awhile. I'm completely envious...

Be sure to spread the word, and don't forget to wear your apron!

Awww, yeah.

Veni, vidi, vici.

I came. I saw. I conquered. (for those of you who were not fortunate enough to take Latin...)

The Deep Purple Prom Nightmare is over!

(now, promise not to look at Blackeyed Susan's face. I told her I would take the photo from the neck down. See how well I succeeded...)

[the dress is much more *Purple* in real life.

Here it looks royal blue-ish.]

back view.

[but I'll bet you guessed that already.]

Taffeta. Gathering miles of tulle. BONING.

DONE.

Actually, I'm not quite finished. I have to sew ribbons inside that will slip over a hanger to hang the dress up. But that's all. And, somewhere in all this process, I got "encouraged" to hem one friend's dress, and re-place a hook and eye on another. But today should see all that done. Then tonight I'll watch four of my boys play their first church-softball game of the season.

Then tomorrow maybe I'll do dishes. Yesterday we had to use the "good china." This morning we ate cereal out of Cool-whip containers. [just to show you I'm not Wonder-Woman...]

This 'n' That

Busy, busy, busy.

I remember this, from back-in-the-day when my older children were in public school. The end-of-the-year crush. Alvin Fernald is playing j.v. baseball, and doing well. Yesterday he pitched (not his normal position) and got two strike-outs. Last week, Blackeyed Susan was inducted into the National Honor Society. You may know that Susan is my seventh-of-eight children. We sat at the banquet with a couple whose tenth-of-eleven was being honored. Large families--a cool *club.*

I'm working on Susan's prom dress. I used to work with a woman who made wedding dresses on the side. She also outfitted the entire bridal party. Not. Me. Sewing with slippery fabrics makes me crazy, anyway, besides the fact that you are cutting into expensive fabric. This dress (Simplicity 3878) [I'm making the pink one on the live model, in deep purple taffeta] has lots of gathering, fifteen yards of tulle, and BONING.

Ahh, boning. All I remember about boning is that when I made Violet's prom dress in 1993, I swore I would never, ever do Boning again. And, here I am. Well, in my defense, the boning I bought looks much more user-friendly. You can even sew through it. Since I'm not that far into the construction of the dress, you will have to Tune In Tomorrow to find out if I have torn out all my hair...

In-between times, I'm (still) quilting a birthday quilt for Joe Hardy (whose birthday was last week...) I'm *almost* halfway done. Don't have any idea why it is taking so long.

Well, I am going to get back to the sewing machine. The Dress is becoming a monster that, until I slay it, will be taking over everything in the house. I will post tomorrow with an Update...

I touched history this weekend.

Charming and I took off (alone!) Friday evening for a short visit upstate. We spent Friday night with Charming's best buddy Mike and his wife, my dear-dear-dear friend Kaybeautiful.

Saturday morning, over coffee (and tea for Kaybeautiful), we looked over a bag of "stuff" that she had of her grandmother's. This bag of "stuff," she has had for all of her 31-year marriage, and it has come through moves from place to place, basement to attic, here to there, and Kay had never examined it. What surprising treasures it held!

We found a number of pamphlets called The Story of The Old Rugged Cross, referring to the song written in 1913 by Rev. George Bennard. A pastor of a little church in Pokagon, Michigan, invited him to preach a revival in January 1913. Rev. Bennard had written the first verse to his song earlier, but finished it at this time, and the church choir performed the song publicly for the first time there. Kay's grandmother was scheduled to sing that Sunday, but was home with a sick wee one. However, Grandma's two sisters and one of the sisters' husbands were among the five-member choir.

Kaybeautiful knew the story--she also grew up in this church. But to see the little pamphlet with photos of her aunts was so, so exciting. There were also a number of leaflets, year-by-year, of Old Rugged Cross Sunday, an annual commemoration. We also found a carbon-copy of a letter written by the pastor of the little church, telling how he and his wife paid for the first printing of the music.

This little incident reminded me of the concept of the human web, or six degrees of separation, the idea that any two people on earth can be connected by no more than five other people. I am three degrees from the writer of The Old Rugged Cross: me to Kaybeautiful, to her grandmother, to Rev. Bennard, who taught her to sing his song. And, if you know me (and I know you do!) you become four degrees.

Do you wonder how the song became popular? Evangelist Billy Sunday used it extensively in his crusades in the 1920's. Later, Billy Graham found the Lord under Sunday's ministry. Billy Sunday's home is a museum 35 miles from my home, at Winona Lake in Warsaw, Indiana. Winona Lake is home to Grace College, formerly Winona Lake College, where my grandfather graduated--another "human web."

A few years ago, my neighbor who lived in the teeny-tiny upstairs apartment next door, came to ask if she could serve dinner to an English missionary couple who were coming to visit, in our dining room. I told her I would be glad to make dinner. Even though it was out-of-season, I made a full Thanksgiving menu, complete with pumpkin pie. As we enjoyed our meal, the wife mentioned that her favorite books when she was a child were the Gene Stratton-Porter books. I told her that Mrs. Porter had owned a house just three doors down from us. So, after dinner, we knocked on our neighbor's door, and our missionary friends got the Grand Tour, complete with Random Historical Facts.

Think about it. You are a missionary to Africa, born in England, come to America for the very first time, and land by serendipity at a house for dinner that is three doors down from one your favorite author used to own? Bizarre.

As Charming says, "God is so bizarre." But, he also says, would you want to serve a God who wasn't? He fills our lives with ever-new, ever-connected things that show us He is in control. Nothing is by accident with Him. And He makes living fun.

Saturday we went to Charming's Mom's house, and visited with two of his sisters, a nephew, Kaybeautiful, and Violet. We looked at more of Kay's stuff, including letters to her grandmother dated 1907, and a packet of my father's WWII letters to my mother, that I had brought along to show Violet. Stepped back into mid-century, and further back to early-century, through real-life people with whom we are connected. No better way to spend a weekend!

To read a little more about The Old Rugged Cross, go here.

Perfect.

If you don't know Kellie over at Enjoying the Small Things, you are missin' something good. For one thing, she is an amazing photographer, and heavily peppers her posts with lovely photos. A few weeks ago, the Lord surprised her with a baby daughter, Nella, who has Down's Syndrome. Her journey of discovery with her daughter is really worth reading.

In the post I linked to above, Kellie talks about Perfection. When her pediatrician gave her the news about Nella's being special, she said to her, "She's beautiful...and perfect."

Here is what Kellie says:

" ....and I wonder what it is about different that makes us think that it's not perfect? Why is it that we set the bar higher and higher and expect ourselves, our children to be flawless? What is it we strive for and once we achieve it--this perfection--what have we achieved? It's never enough. Even the razor I used in the shower this morning tries to outdo itself with now six
blades layered to give a more perfect shave because apparently the five-bladed prior model didn't quite master the hairless perfection we're attempting to achieve."

I think about my son, Don Quixote, who has Asperger's Syndrome. He has been wired differently in his brain from us normal NT (neurologically typical) people.
(I do like the term "neurologically typical" instead of "normal.")

For awhile, I thought that maybe Don's Asperger's came from being immunized, a popular theory. But, one day I read an article in a homeschooling magazine that featured special needs children. For each "special need," there was an article, and a sidebar from the editor listing symptoms, so that you could get your child screened if need be. Looking at the list of symptoms of Asperger's, I saw that Don fit them perfectly, all the way down the list. What is more important to me, however, is that I could divide the list in two, and put my name at the top of one, and Charming's at the top of the other. In God's amazing creativity, he made a DNA combo, a "perfect storm" if you will, that became Don.

Don, who, when he reads something about a "cure" for Asperger's, says, "I don't need a cure, I'm not broken!" and, upon further discussion, says, I wouldn't want a "cure," anyway. Take away the Asperger's, and I wouldn't know who I was."

Wow. Wowowowowowowow.

I think about my brother Scotty, who was born with an incurable blood disease. Throughout his 8 1/2 years, he was poked and prodded, tested and guinea-pigged more that most of us will ever be. My mother told him one time, "I am so sorry that you have to go through this." He replied, "that's okay, Mom, this is my life. This is all I know."

And now our little granddaughter Nettie. She has challenges that we don't even know about yet. God has done a mighty work in that little one, but, for right now, she's not completely healed.

But, that doesn't mean that she's not perfect.

Of course, we live in a fallen world, and "things" happen. Nettie was oxygen-deprived near birth. Myriad other things can happen that can make us not-normal. But if I'm reading my Bible correctly, God doesn't make anything that is not perfect. Everything He made, "He saw that it was good." We have all seen a tree that has grown around something foreign and is twisted in a funny way. Or a kitten with an extra leg. Or [on and on and on...] Whether the circumstances happen before birth or after, just because we aren't flawless doesn't mean we're not perfect.

We need to look at ourselves and those around us like God looks at us. Seeing through God-eyes would be so enlightening, wouldn't it? How much less would we fuss about things that aren't of any importance at all, in the grand scheme of things?

Thank you, Don, and thank you, Nettie, for teaching us about God.

Finally, another quote from Kellie:

"The concept of "perfect" is not flawless or four-point-oh. It's happiness. Happiness with all of its messiness and not-quite-there-ness. It's knowing that time is short, and the moments we choose to fill our cup with should be purposeful and colorful. And that's perfection."

Edited to add: After discussing these thoughts with Charming, he said something: God's plan is perfect. It is not perfection.

Food for thought.

Thinking today...

...over at Homeschool in the Wildwood.

Also, you *must* check out Lily's latest entry over at her blog. Besides giving an update on Baby Nettie, she talks about the journey that she is on, with a disabled child. Such wonderful, wonderful things the Lord is doing in her life.

Now, off to do my work!

My New Friend.

I haven't cried yet.

Actually, I've only teared up once, during the funeral Mass.

I don't need to have a meltdown; I spent hours and hours with Daddy during the last week of his life. All the things I wanted to say and wanted to hear, I did. But I can feel a few tears right behind my eyes. I just need to get them out somehow. (I have been a little short with my family; that's one reason I know.)

My dear sister, Pinky Marie, whom you may know from her comments here, knew just what to do. She sent me a New Friend:

(here she is, by some beautiful flowers from my neighbors.)

She is a Vermont Teddy Bear. Maybe you know about them. I personally think they are a giant step above build-a-bears. My new friend is purple because my sister loves purple. Her eyes are green because that is my favorite color! I'm going to call her Nettie, my Victorian-bosom-friend name, which is a nickname for my middle name, Annette.

Look at those eyes. Nettie is a Thinker, and she is not letting all of her Deep Thoughts sit on her face. She will keep all my secrets.

She is wearing a wonderful t-shirt that says, "Sew Happy to be Quilting." Nettie already knows what will make me smile!

I get to spend the day alone today. I'm looking forward to it. The death certificates have not arrived, so I can't do any of Daddy's final business. I will just be working on everyday duties and some de-cluttering. I'll put on some music, and See What Happens.

And Nettie will be ready with her hugs when the time comes.

Daddy's Victory Lap

My Daddy passed away quietly in his sleep early on Sunday morning. He had been off his medications for six days. This meant clarity of mind, *and* renewed taste buds! I spent hours and hours with him, holding his hand. Friday morning he told me he had shared another beer with my brother. "I finished that one!"

Sunday morning about 1 am, the nurse checked on him. He asked her to change the movie in his dvd player, and he wanted a couple of pieces of candy. When she went back an hour later (which was then 3 am because of the time change), he was gone. After she called, my two brothers and our spouses gathered for a couple of hours at his bedside. Every once in awhile one of us would get up to kiss his forehead. I knew he was gone, but, after all, his body is how his "real self" interfaced with us. I will miss his kisses and hand-holding very much.

Daddy loved bow-ties. Mother did not care for them. Dad used to say, "Mama, if I go first, bury me in a bow-tie." Mother would say, "no, I won't!" Shortly before she died, she pulled me aside and said, "if Daddy dies, you can put him in a bow-tie."

What is really cool is that I have seven of his bow-ties! Five of them are 40's-50's style, and two of them are the 70's variety. So I have one for him, and six for his grandson-pallbearers.

The girls are not going to be left out. Daddy joked with me all my life about my gum-chewing: "Just like Mama, cracking her gum." Forget-me-not is her generation's champion gum-chewer. She shared many a joke with her grandpa. And not far behind is three-year old Sweet Pea--I never see her anymore without a piece of gum in her mouth. Now, it may look funny, with all the girls chewing gum at the graveside, but Daddy will get the joke!

The funeral is Thursday, but since Wednesday is St. Paddy's Day, we're going to have an old-fashioned Irish wake. The men are going to pass around Daddy's pipe and have a proper send-off to a special man.

I may have told you before, that, waiting for him in heaven were his wife of 64 years, and nine of his children. What a reunion that must have been! My father lived an exceptional life, burying seven of his children (two children were miscarried). Through all that my parents went through, Daddy never turned to drink. Never became a workaholic. Turned with his wife to the Lord. When the doctors told them not to have any more children, he said, "We will trust the Lord." This is the example he gave for us, all the years of his life.

For Daddy's 50th high school reunion, he wrote about himself, "I am a simple man, who has lived a simple life, raising a family with a wonderful woman." For his obituary, I changed that a little. I wrote, "he was an extraordinary man who lived an extraordinary life."

He fought the good fight; he ran the good race. This past week was his "victory lap."

I love you, Daddy. It was so easy to realize how much my heavenly Father loves me, because of the way you loved me. We thank the Lord for your life, and that He chose to share you with us.

If you'd like to read Daddy's obituary, go here.

Update

Well, they took my Daddy off of all his meds on Monday. The nurses and doctors expected a quick passing.

Hmmm.

Tuesday afternoon Daddy was transferred back to his nursing home. He was so very excited because he can open his windows there and get the fresh air. It has been close to 60 degrees all week, and wonderful for him.

Tuesday night he wanted a beer.

My brother brought one. Now, I hear from beer connoiseurs that drinking beer with a straw from a plastic cup isn't the preferred way, but Dad did it justice, getting about half the bottle down. His comment after two sips: Hmmm. doesn't taste like I remember. After two more sips: Yeah. That hits the spot!

(Thursday night he had another beer, only this time he finished it!)

I've been bringing Pepsi everyday. This morning he finished the 24 oz. gas-station cup almost in one sitting, meaning he didn't put the cup down between sips. "Oh, that's good!" I need to bring a 12-pack...

I'm sure being off meds for five days has restored his taste buds. They have sure restored clarity to his mind. We are having so much fun!

Now, I'm not sure how long this "honeymoon" will last. He takes took insulin for diabetes, bp meds for high blood pressure, as well as about a dozen other meds. Will one of these conditions be the one to finally end his life? He also had a heart attack last week; will his heart finally "give out," old-school style?

My sister-in-law, a nurse, heard of a person who went off their meds and lived for seven more years. Sure gives credence to the theory of being over-medicated as we age. Whether we have my Daddy for one more day or seven more days or seven more years, we have been given a gift. And I thank the Lord for it.

Right now I'm doing a lot of traveling for visiting. This puts a crimp in my computer time, but I will post as I am able. Charming is back from training and in his store here in town. And he is loving it! Working for money. Such a good thing.

Thank you for all of your prayers. Your thoughts for me are so much appreciated.

Taking a minute...

...to check in.

My dear Daddy is getting near the end of his life here on earth. It is a beautiful, beautiful thing. I'll be blogging later about this journey. I know that you dear friends will be praying, and we'll be feeling it. Thank you so much for your care for us.

More later, loves...

Party Time

I finished quilts for Oxford and Cambridge for their second birthdays. (in addition to baby quilts, I make each of my grands a two-year-old quilt.)

Cambridge is really into penguins. I had two penguin-themed fabrics, and added a Veggie-tales fabric just for fun. I really like the way the colors work together:

For Oxford, I did an I Spy quilt--eighty-eight different squares of very-fun things. However, you will not find any ballet dancers or other girly-things--Oxford is all boy, all the time:

Saturday, Blueberry and Oxford had their birthday party, with a Toy Story theme. Gotta say that Blueberry makes a great Buzz Lightyear:

Cambridge would not let me get a proper photo all afternoon. I did sneak in a side-shot of his Woody alter-ego:

The guests were invited to dress as a favorite toy. Cambridge's favorite thing in the entire universe is his cowboy hat. Here he is, chewin' the fat with Pop-Pop:

Baby Nettie didn't have to dress. She's a doll-baby already:

Laura Carrot graced the court as a princess:

Here we see Princess Sweet Pea with some G.I. Joe guy, played by Junior Asparagus:
Blueberry and Oxord also have six cousins on the other side of the family, so it was a noisy party! Our next birthday extravaganza is next month for Junior and Cambridge. I'd better get rested up...

Here is a photo of my next project:

It is just so cool to me, that three little piles of squares can become a quilt top in just a few days. This will be a simple design, so it will go fast, but I am really liking the colors. You'll be seeing more of this in the days to come.

Charming is flying out Sunday to begin training for his new job! He will be heading to Mankato, Minnesota. Yep, following in the footsteps of Pa Ingalls. He wants to drive out to Walnut Grove and Sleepy Eye, while he's there. While Laura lived "on the banks of Plum Creek," she lived in a soddy in the side of a hill. All that's left is a depression in the hill, but it is marked with a plaque. Not an ostentatious memorial, but that's okay. Laura's life was just the same as other pioneer children. I do love that some things survive, even if it's the Little Depression on Plum Creek!

Charming will be gone for two weeks, then home to begin working in the store in our city. One of these days, normalcy will return. Whatever that is...

I'm Thinking Elsewhere Today...

Check out Fresh Starts today!

A Blessed Week

Wowwhataweek!

On Monday, Charming finally got his call with a job offer, *and* I filed my taxes with a biggie refund. Still living off the high we got with that day.

Yesterday, we got the results of a three-hour EEG for baby Nettie (now four months). The EEG showed no seizure activity of any kind! She still has a number of tics, which are bothersome to her, but she will probably outgrow them. I am amazed that she is "bothered by them," but you can tell that when her face jerks, she gets upset. The working of the Lord is evident day by day in her life. Lily is a champ: do you know that she now has five children, and her oldest isn't seven yet? Her plan of an orderly, homeschooling day is often interrupted with appointments for Nettie--doctor(s), therapy, and the other, normal four-month old's idiosyncracies. Lily seems to take it in stride; she does not show frustration very often. Having Nettie in her life has made her sweeter and softer. Isn't God so very, very good to order our lives to make us into the image of His dear Son?

I'm still discovering the changes in my own life because of the journey of the last eight months. By nature I was always a worrier; I've learned begun to learn to let the Lord do worrying for me. I've had a lot of people ask about what it was like having Charming around all the time; I have fallen in love with him over and over again. I can honestly say that those little irritations came rarely, and only for a few hours. Maybe the Lord is making *me* sweeter and softer?

Today I'm going to a double birthday party. Forget-me-not's boys' birthdays are two weeks apart. Blueberry is four and Oxford will be two. I've got my presents ready, and it will be a raucous two hours. There are a number of cousins on both sides, and Fun Will Be Had. But I will have my cellphone at the ready: my Daddy, aged eighty-seven, has pneumonia. He continues to try to call me a number of times a day, and I can tell it is so, so difficult for him to get his breath. I spoke with a nurse this morning, and they are considering sending him to the hospital. For him, pneumonia can easily be life-threatening. So today, I will have one foot in each end of life, trying to straddle the middle, which is laundry and negotiating Blackeyed Susan's and Alvin Fernald's weekend schedules and planning Sunday dinner. But I know that I am not living through this day alone. This day has been planned by my Father long before it came, and His plan is Good.

Yep. It has been a Blessed Week here at the Cottage.

I pray your weekend is blessed as well!

Burglary Deterrent

Many years ago, we lived in a little house, and I didn't have a place to store my portable sewing machine. (which was not-so-portable, being in an ancient Singer wooden case and being made of, oh, let's say, cast iron or something--that critter was Heavy.) It ended up in the hallway from the kitchen to our bedroom, sorta across from the bathroom door.

One day, I was sailing into or out of said bathroom and stubbed my foot on the sewing machine. Even though I was wearing shoes, I knew that something was BROKE. (now, I know that, grammatically, I should have used the word "broken," but somehow, BROKE is much more descriptive of that searing, blinding pain. Bad words even came out of my mouth, for which I had to apologize to my then-very-young children. I called Kaybeautiful, my nurse-y friend, and asked her advice. She said that I could tape two toes together for five or six weeks. "What if I went to the doctor?" She said, "they'll tape the two toes together for five or six weeks, and charge you thirty-five bucks." (I told you it was a long time ago...)

So I taped the two toes together. Five weeks later I took off the tape for a trial run--too early. Two more weeks, and I was fine. And I haven't really thought about this incident for years and years and years, till last night.

Charming "found" another sewing machine last night, on his way back from the bathroom. I had just about forgotten about this little number. Lily found a sewing machine with a table at a garage sale this summer for ten dollars. She only needed the table, so I took the machine, thinking I would refurbish it for Tiny Dancer sometime. I put it out of the way, beside a bookshelf in the upstairs hallway. Unlike the former incident, however, this machine had no case, so it is out for all to see in it's heavy-metal glory. It had sat there, basically forgotten, for all these months. But *evidently* someone had kicked it a little out of its normal place, and Charming was the unfortunate victim of a triple-stubbing.

Ouch. Are you rubbing your little toesies in sympathy?

Out of this incident, however, we have devised a Scathingly Brilliant Idea. We can pick up some more discarded, ten dollar machines here and there, and sell them as Burglary Deterrents. Just set them inside your front door at bedtime, and wait for the unsuspecting burglars to show up. They'll run away lightning-fast, spewing bad words as they go. And they'll probably spread the word to other low-lifes who might be considering a crime spree in our neighborhood.

Now to figure out how to attach a really annoying alarm to the machines...

Rejoice with us...

...After eight months, Charming has been offered a job!

And, for the first time in thirty-five years, it is Not. In. A. Restaurant!

God is so very, very good. (but I already knew that.)

Yesterday, when he got "the call," was eight months, to the day, since he lost his last job. I remembered that "8" is the Biblical number of New Beginnings.

Would you like to hear more good news?

I had just finished doing our income taxes a half-hour before Charming got his phone call. The refund we will be getting is enough to catch up all of our bills that have been behind. This means that we will start the new job at "even" instead of "catching up."

God is so very, very good. He does give us "full and running over." All the time. Money or no, job or no, health or no. It's just Who He Is. He has proven it, again, this time.

Thanks for all of your prayers. They were so, so appreciated, and they kept *me* going.

(off to continue my little "happy dance...")

Spent some time...

...thinking again.

Go check it out!

How to Become a Member of the Cornflake Family...

(...our family name being the same as the parent company of Tony the Tiger, et al...)

...according to Maddi, Blackeyed Susan's buddy:

Chapter the First

Having once had eight children at home, we had a number of salt and pepper shakers for everyday use. Right now we have three salt shakers, a pepper shaker, a pepper grinder, and, in a pinch, the Can of pepper. But you will often find one of the salt shakers in another part of the house, having been used for popcorn, or if supper was in front of the tv.

Maddi thinks this is rather amusing, and her belief is that everyone in the family has their own set of salts and peppers. I think that *Maddi* is rather amusing to have even noticed.

Chapter the Second

We received a number of lovely gifts for our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, including two sets of not-for-everyday salts-and-peppers:

a lovely silvery set, and a crystal set that I believe are supposed to represent pagodas.

Then, one day at the thrift store I noticed a tiny little glass set (on the right below), and decided to try to acquire eight or ten sets, for when we have more formal dinners. They look pretty darned cute sitting by each place.

The odd set on the left is composed of another, square glass shaker, and a really lovely silver one. I wish, wish, wish, that there had been a pair of those. I really love the shape:

Yesterday I was in another thrift store, and saw these little beauties. New-in-box (but years and years old), and just $1 for four:

Chapter the Third

So, Maddi's birthday is in March. I am going to take one of the sets, fill it, and present it to her with a note: "Now you are an official member of the Cornflake Clan, because you have your very own salt-and-pepper set."

Of course, she will have to bring them over when she comes for dinner!

Little Things

The grip of the extremely freezing temperatures is broken, at least for now. When we got home from church yesterday, it was a "balmy" 32 degrees. The sun was out, so the snow that remained on the sidewalks was melting, and I wore just a coat, not adding a sweater underneath. It's all relative, isn't it? Who knew we would *enjoy* temps in the 30s?

*********************
I picked up a can of green beans last week, and noticed something a little "off." I wanted to share it with you, in case you would not notice it if it happened to you, and reap sorry consequences.

Before E. coli and salmonella were the stars of the food poisoning world, we talked about ptomaine. Ptomaine is a food poisoning that had a reputation for hangin' out in canned goods. When I was younger, my grandma would come across a jar of canned peaches or something that had a lid that was swollen--that was a sure sign that it had been incorrectly sealed, and the ptomaine bacteria that was inside already, had reproduced, with gas as one of the byproducts of reproduction. Mom told me to always watch commercially canned items, as well--once in awhile we saw a can with a swollen top, as well.

These green beans I picked up last week looked a tad funny. I couldn't say that the top and bottom of the can were "swollen," but they definitely weren't "flat." The telltalle thing for me, though, was that when I shook the can, the beans weren't "tight" in there, it was really "loose," and those beans had a lot of room to slosh around. "Better safe than sorry," my Mom always said, so I set them aside. (I didn't throw them out because I wanted to show my kids and their friends.) I sure wouldn't want to get food poisoning, especially when I got the beans on sale for 3/$1!! I have only seen suspicious cans about three times in my marriage (34 years), so I thought I would spread the word, for those of you who may not realize the warning signs.

So, after all that, Charming reminded me that what I am talking about with canned goods is botulism, not ptomaine. Same warning, different poison. Sorry.
****************
I learned something the other day. I have noticed recently the push for Vitamin D supplements. Evidently you need them to prevent cancer. Paired with Vitamin C, they head off a cold. Now, I was a little confused. After all, we get our Vitamin D from sunshine, right? Even in the dead of a grey winter, sit in a window with the light coming in, and ten minutes a day is all you need to get your Daily Requirement.

So why all the advertisements pushing supplements? It seems that, indeed, we are not getting enough anymore. The reason? All that sunscreen we wear to protect our skin, summer and winter, keeps the Vitamin D from getting in. Can you believe it?

I think we need to take a cue from Ma Ingalls: "Laura, wear your sunbonnet. Your skin is beginning to look like a red Indian!" Yep, those ladies did not worry about sunscreen, and they didn't get skin cancer, either. So, I propose a new campaign, like Wear Red for Women, or even Wearing Pink for breast cancer: Wear Sunbonnets for your skin health!

I think it will go over in a big way, don't you?

**************
I watched a few minutes of the Grammy awards last evening, in between things I was doing. I don't get much out of the Grammys anymore, because I don't listen to very much secular music. The Dove Awards would be more my speed. But the little bit that I saw was very telling. They showed a little clip of Bobby Darin singing Mack the Knife, and said that he won the Grammy for Record of the Year fifty years ago. (yeah, I remember Bobby Darin, and the song...scary.) Then they announced the nominees for this year's Record of the Year, including Lady Gaga. (don't know if I need to hyphenate that one, or capitalize it or what--no disrespect intended, Lady...)

How far we have come. From Bobby Darin in a black suit and white shirt, holding a microphone and singing, to the huge production numbers accompanied by fireworks, we saw on the program last evening. My mother would say something like, "well, when you don't have talent, you try to cover it up with glitter." Hmmm. I think I am beginning to turn into my mother! I did catch myself saying, "they don't write songs like they used to..."

*******************
Blackeyed Susan and Alvin Fernald have completed their first semester in public school. The second quarter grades were better than the first's, but still not up to what they did in homeschool. Most of their problems stem from teachers that don't teach well enough for them to get the concepts. (and the report is, that a number of other honor students in the same classes have the same opinion...) So, there you have it. When you have a mother as your teacher, who will teach to your particular learning style, and pursue the matter until you understand it thoroughly, well, that is a distinct advantage. There is nothing like a personal tutor, right? Homeschoolers, Keep. On.Keepin'. On.

************************
Tomorrow is Groundhog Day. I learned when I was little, that if the groundhog saw his shadow, there would be six more weeks of winter. I was much, much older when I learned that that was not the desired outcome. Here in Indiana, *only* six more weeks of winter was a good thing. I didn't know that if the groundhog did not see his shadow, spring would come sooner! But, here in Indiana, I don't think the weatherman pays any attention to the groundhog...

***********************
So there you have a Few Snippets of Nothing in Particular. (sounds Pooh-ish, doesn't it?) I hope you all have a wonderful week!

Update on Nettie

Lily has posted an update on Nettie over on her blog. Please go read it, and continue with us in prayer for Nettie's complete recovery from her birth trauma.

And don't neglect reading the little story Lily links to in her blog entry. You will be super-encouraged and rejoice at what GOD can do!

The Legend of Mr. Holmes

We all had a teacher or two that impacted our lives in a significant way. I remember Mrs. Gloman, opening up my biology world. We had her for two years (advanced biology as well, you know...) and every one of my close friends in her class majored in Biology in college. Talk about turning on the lightbulb....

Even though I wasn't the biggest literature-lover, my senior English teacher, Mrs. Raison, made it wonderful. She was just so Excited about the whole thing. If the idea was to have a job doing something you love, she personified it.

Though I homeschooled all-but-one of my older six children for a longer or shorter time, they all went to public high school. And they were all blessed to have Mr. Holmes as a teacher.

Mr. Holmes teaches only one subject: Honors U.S. History. He had a career in the Marines before becoming a teacher. He is a two-tour, front-line, down-in-the-trenches infantry Vietnam vet. He allows no monkey business in his class: he expects ladies and gentlemen, and gets what he expects. You know the saying of living up to the expectations set for you...

My children have said that Mr. Holmes is the only teacher that truly prepared them for college. They've told me about the can of Diet Pepsi on his desk. Mr. Holmes brought it to school the day he began teaching. He didn't drink it that day; it is still on his desk. He says he'll open it the day he retires.

He covers the period from the Civil War through Vietnam. He spends nine full weeks on Vietnam. When you come out of his class, you know the Why we were there. The horrors that were over there. The Way things were at Home. The final is a blank Blue Book: Tell me about Vietnam. The final is held at 6:30 am, because it is 90 minutes. Mr. Holmes brings the donuts and orange juice. And the prize?

The T-Shirt.

Everyone who survives finishes Mr. Holmes class gets a t-shirt. The front says Honors U.S. History 2010, the back has an inspiring Mr. Holmes/Marine/inspirational quote of some kind. Now, Violet took Mr. Holmes' class before the t-shirts; her prize was a Marine sticker. Hard to earn, proud to own, even today.

I was pleasantly surprised to learn that Mr. Holmes was still teaching--he could have retired since my last Mr. Holmes-student graduated in 2002. And now it is Blackeyed Susan's turn.

This weekend she is working on the *three* assignments due the first day of class. (this gets you ready for the Large Workload to come.) Oh, she knows what she is getting into. I know that Mr. Holmes will grow her character. If I can't be her teacher, I can be confident handing her over to him for ninety minutes a day.

I told Mr. Holmes at the beginning of the year that he needed to postpone retirement until Alvin Fernald takes his class in two years. Then all eight of my children would have the privilege of being in his class. Now our school corporation is trying to get Federal money in the form of the new Race to the Top program. If you are a target school (troubled), these are the requirements:
1. Fire the principal. 2. Fire all the staff. 3. You may re-hire up to 49% of the staff.

No options. No accounting for individual cases. Isn't this like the federal government? The rumor is that Mr. Holmes isn't going to deal with the whole thing, that he'll just retire. Though I can't blame him at all, I'm sad. Sad that a truly GREAT teacher can be treated in this manner.

So, Susan may be in his very last class.

Oh, well. Maybe she'll get a sip of that Diet Pepsi.

Closing Out Another Project.

I have a custom of beginning a new project the day after Christmas. Something for *me*, after the three to four months of crafting gifts. This year, I wanted to finish a quilt I had put down at the beginning of September. I was able to finish it on January 3rd!

This quilt is called Barbara Star, and you can read about it here and here.

I quilted it in diagonal rows, as did my grandmother with the original. The squares were hand-pieced. I did put the rows of squares together by machine, and then hand-quilted. It looks like it took me a total of about nine months to do, not bad for such a large project.

And this one is for our own bed! How exciting is that?

Poison Green, and other lovely things.

Wow. Two posts in one day! This one, however, is for quilt-y types, especially if you are interested in reproduction Civil War-era fabrics.

I always wondered why they called a certain color "poison green," often paired with "cheddar yellow (or orange)", a color that I *do* understand. If you are interested, read this little thing about fabrics in the nineteenth century.

Shudder.

But that is not to say that today's fabrics are worry-free. You may know that formaldehyde is often used in the manufacture of clothing. As well as other nasties of which I'm not aware. You should always, always wash anything you buy before you wear it. Those of us who sew usually wash our fabric before we begin sewing.

You can get some further information by reading the comments under the blog entry. Lots of good stuff there.

ooh. One more thing. The article referred to in the blog post is from the Massachusetts State Board of Health, Lunacy, and Charity. Gotta love that...

In Praise of Avogadro

This is related to yesterday's post, but Jen, you'll be able to understand this one!

Avogadro is famous in chemistry for Avogadro's number, the number of atoms or molecules in a mole of any chemical element or compound, based on the number of atoms in 12 grams of Carbon-12 (the normal carbon). He proposed this principle in 1811.

1811?

Does it seem weird to you that anyone was interested in something like that, 200 years ago? The value of the number was indicated later, in 1865, by a man named Johann Loschmidt, who estimated the average diameter of molecules in the air (I ask why? HOW??) by a method equivalent to estimating the number of particles in a given volume of gas.

So the value of Avogadro's constant (as it is officially called) is 6.022 141 79(30) x 10-to-the-23rd. (abbreviated for us high-school chem types as 6.02 x etc etc.)

I am in awe of the mathematicians and scientists who have come before. I remember Gregor Mendel, a monk who invented the entire field of genetics by observing the plots of peas that he tended at the monastery. Blaise Pascal, who, living in a time when you didn't start your math education until ten or eleven years old, invented his own math system at age seven or so, including geometric proofs. Euclid (for whom geometry is named) goes way farther back. How did they come up with the number pi? They even measured the size of the earth back in the Greek civilization.

I could name names for a very long time here, folks.

Now I love poetry, and literature, even growing in my appreciation for Shakespeare. History has become a love of mine, ever since I got OUT of school (too bad it didn't come earlier...). But I am a science girl at heart, and that means I must be a math girl, to an extent.

The advances in science and technology have come at an exponential rate, beginning in the last three decades or so of the nineteenth century. Remember, the electric light and telephone came in the 1870's, radio and flight in the 1900's. We make little comments about the size and capabilities of our cellphones compared to five or ten years ago. But I don't think we're in *awe* anymore about these things. I just wanted to take a moment to honor those upon whose shoulders we stand. Those who began with nothing but an idea. Certainly their ideas were God-given. Which reminds me of my favorite definition of Science: discovering what God has already done.

Stoichiometry.

Go on. Say it.

You know you want to.

Stoichiometry, if you have forgotten, is the "math" part of chemistry. Balancing equations is the first thing you learn. Later, finding out how much of this-n-that you need to produce so much product. This is why you can't take Chemistry until you have had algebra.

Last night, Blackeyed Susan asked for help with her homework. At first I stared at the page of problems. I referred to her textbook. (have I told you before how inferior her public school text is compared to my beloved Apologia science books?) The practice problems were so easy you could actually do them in your head, so those were no biggie. We worked on the next problems for awhile, and then the lightbulb went on for me. The answer was in the Unit Multipliers.

You remember unit multipliers, don't you? You actually use them every day. Say you want to find out how many feet are in three miles. You multiply 3 feet by 5280 feet Per mile (imagine that as a fraction, I don't know how to type math symbols...) and get 15840 feet.

Here is one simple problem: How many moles of ammonia are produced when .60 mol of nitrogen reacts with hydrogen?

Here's the equation: N2 + 3H2 = 2NH3 (except that in chemistry the = sign is really an arrow)

This means that you need 1 mole of nitrogen combined with 3 moles hydrogen to make 2 moles of ammonia. All you need to know is the ratio. If you need 1 mol of N2 to make 2 mol of NH3, then to find your answer you multiply .6o mol of N2 by the unit multiplier 2 mol NH3 *over* 1 mol N2. Cancel, multiply, and your answer is 1.2 mol NH3.

We also did mass. Calculate the number of grams of NH3 produced by the reaction of 5.40 g of H2 with an excess of N2. (equation: N2 + 3H2 =2NH3)

This required three unit multipliers to get from grams of H2 to grams of NH3. Or how about this one? How many molecules of oxygen are produced when 29.2 grams of water is decomposed by electrolysis according to this equation?

2H20 (arrow with the word electricity over it) = 2H2 + O2

Hello. How many molecules? Yep. Easy-schmeasy with Avogadro's number, the number of molecules in a mole of anything: 6.02 x 10-to-the-23rd. It becomes your final unit multiplier.

Oh-my-goodness-this-is-so-cool.

Oh. You want the answer, don't you? Here's your math:

29.2 g H20 x 1 mol H2O (0ver)18 g H2O (you get the mass of one mole of something from the periodic table) x 1 mol O2 (over)2 mol H2O (your ratio) x 6.02 x 10 to the 23rd molecules O2 (over)1 mol O2. Cancel, cancel, cancel, multiply. Your answer (and I know you'll do the math because you can't resist):

4.88 x 10-to-the-23rd molecules of O2.

We also did gases (mass is 22.4L per mole) so it got pretty complicated there. But it got so exciting for me that I wanted to just take the book from Susan and just do the work myself!

Gee, I miss homeschooling.

(and did I tell you that it has been 36 years since I have had any chemistry?)

Have a fun-filled, math-filled day!

by the way, if you care, I blogged on my other blog today as well!

Michigan Whites.

That looks funny in print. Maybe it's a pig, like Chester White. Or a sheep--Suffolk White. Or a chicken: Rhode Island Red?

Naah. You prob'ly know it's Potatoes.

I grew up on Michigan white potatoes. Staple of the American table. We had potatoes five or six times a week. Nine times out of ten, boiled. Most days, after I got home from school, I had my cookies and milk, then it was my job to peel the potatoes. "One for each person, and one for the pot," my Mom advised.

I used Michigan whites in my own home for probably the first ten or fifteen years. Then I branched out: Idahos. Russets. I found Idahos, though the choice of steakhouses and Wendy's ("the largest purchaser of 70-count Idahos in the world!") grainy and without a lot of flavor. I needed a LOT of butter to get those babies down. Russets were *okay,* though I did not like their thicker skin.

Later on I discovered potato heaven in the form of Red potatoes. My sister told me they had the most nutrition. I knew they had the most flavor. Their thinner skin made them, in my opinion, better for baking, as well. You could eat them with just salt and pepper. We got so used to the flavor, that my family could tell if I used a different kind for my potato salad. Altogether, a very good thing.

I made a stab at that other fairly new specie: Yukon Gold. Supposed to be so good "you don't need butter." Yeah, they are yellow, so you might think so, but...no. Grainy. Taste-free, in my family's humble opinion. I found five-pound bags one day for $1.49 apiece, so I bought four. Cooked one panful, and gave the rest away. Family just would not eat them.

Isn't it funny how you think of something, and then it happens? Last week, I had the thought, "I haven't seen Michigan White Potatoes in the stores in years." Of course, you know what happened when I went in the store yesterday. There they were, right on an endcap in the produce department. And on sale! Can you beat $1.99 for *ten* pounds?

Now, I'm not sure how they will compare to our fave red ones, but I'm going to give it a go this week. I'll let you know how it turns out...

Pajama-rama Recap

(almost finished; that is, 8/9 finished!)

Last Christmas, as I packed the leftover fabric from making flannel pj pants into the rubbermaid bin, joining the remnants of other years' gifts, I decided to *finally* use all of them to make quilts. I didn't know how many the twelve or fifteen years' worth of scraps would make, but I decided to Make A Beginning of it. You can read about my New Year's adventure here, here, and here.

Early in the summer, Charming lost his job. This gave me "encouragement" to really get going on the project; it might be a large part of our Christmas gift stash. I figured out a way to manage the layout I had decided on, so that it wouldn't get out-of-hand for me. Just a few weeks saw nine quilt tops finished, one for each of my eight children and one for myself.

Since I had spent nothing on the fabric for the tops, I decided to make a game out of making these quilts for as little as possible. When my older six children were small, their grandmother had given each of them a set of flannel sheets. The pillowcases and fitted sheets were long gone, but the top sheets were still in fair condition. (probably because with bunk beds, top sheets are difficult to manage, and I left them off much of the time.) I couldn't actually believe I still had all six, since the children have all left home.

Blackeyed Susan and Alvin Fernald were not yet born when the sheet sets were given, so I used the fleece throws I made for them when they were about 6 and 4 years old. That left my own quilt, but (can you believe it) I have one remaining top sheet of a set of wedding sheets, 34 years old, and still in good enough shape to use?

As the flannel sheets were of varying sizes, and all were smaller than the quilt tops, I filled in the borders with extra, larger pieces of flannel I have in my stash. (I think the stash-fairies come and increase my stash with every project I do, instead of reducing it!) So, for both tops and backs, I spent $0.

Polyester batting was $10 at Jo-Ann's. I bought seven batts with a 40% off coupon, and two of them with a 50% off coupon. Total: $52.

I used nine large spools of thread, buy-one-get-one free, $1.99/spool. Total: $9. I tied them with bright-red crochet cotton. I finished the spool I had, and bought two more at $1.97 each. Total: $4.

So: total out-of-pocket expense for nine quilts? $65. That is, $7.23 apiece. Not too shabby for a fabulous gift, eh?

Oh, wait. I forgot to include Time Spent. Hmmm. I should charge myself $10/hour or so, shouldn't I? How much would that be for Months and Months of work?

I think I'll just take it out in Love, please.

I ended up finishing eight of the nine quilts. My own top is finished, and the backing made. A little manner of a few days to finish, and the Project can be put into the record books.

The children were, of course, thrilled. A fun time was had, finding years' worth of former pjs in their quilts. An eye-spy deal, as well! Though I'm not sure I'd want to tackle such a large project anytime soon again. But think of the empty rubbermaid tubs out of my stash!

I'm sure you are wondering what is up next for Super-Quilter. On the list for 2010 are quilts for Oxford and Cambridge, both turning two. (I do baby quilts for each grand, as well as one when they turn two.) One of my children has only one Mommy-made quilt--everyone else has two (or three. or four. Except for their new Christmas one, of course.) So, Joe Hardy, you get the next one on the list. For myself. I need to finish hand-quilting one in the frame. After that? I think a project for ME, ME, ME!!!

But, very first on the list? Doing the dishes from the last two days. I think it will be two dishwasher's-full, plus hand washing...

Christmas Making

Spoiler alert: If you are a member of my family, be sure not to read this until the day after Christmas!

Okay. Here we go.

With Charming being off work for more than six months, I knew that Christmas gifts would have to come from my stash of fabric and crafty-stuff. That was Not. A. Problem. as I have more stuff than I can possibly use in my lifetime!
This summer, Lily bought a little guitar for Junior Asparagus at a garage sale. He has been carrying it around in the cardboard box it came in, so I thought it was time for a "gig bag." The green twill is a fun print with swamp animals on it. The bag is lined with bright yellow fleece.

I had enough fabric left over to make a gig bag for Charming's first instrument, a ukulele. His sister made a corduroy drawstring bag for it, which is long gone, although the hand-crocheted strap is intact. I'm glad to finally get this instrument protected. The uke was a cheap one, but it is over forty years old, and, like I said, started Charming on his illustrious "career" in music. Don't despise small beginnings!

This one is cool. I had a wool blanket that I had bought at a thrift store for $1.50 about three years ago. I felted it as well as I could (washed it in hot water and dried it in the dryer to shrink it), and waited till I had a project for which to use it.

Blueberry's favorite animal right now is the Owl, so I made one out of the blanket. It reminds me of toys my own grandma made me, sort of old-fashioned looking. But I think it turned out really well!

I have also been collecting cheap wool blazers in different colors, cutting them up and felting them. They are not so predictable, however. Some of the better wool is actually washable, and refuses to shrink!

(do you remember Farmer Boy? Almanzo's mother wove wool cloth on her loom, then washed it in hot water. She called it "fullcloth," and said that the suits she made from it were completely warm and waterproof. "not a bit of water could get through..."(nor the weather either, I'll bet!)

Cambridge's favorite animal is the penguin. The white parts are the wool blankie again.

For Oxford, I had to call Forget-me-not to get his favorite animal. She quickly replied, "the meerkat."

Meerkat? He's not even two years old! What one-year-old's favorite animal is the meerkat?

(thank you, Animal Planet...)

So, here it is, folks. The first thrifted, felted, wool Meerkat.

The tail is an important feature.

Laura Carrot is always up for a new dress for her 18-inch doll. I used a reproduction pattern of a set of 1950's doll clothes. Remind me never to make this one again--the construction was a nightmare! (Laura also wants a pair of glasses for her doll, so the outfit will include a pair.)

Sweet Pea wants a dolly quilt. She is receiving a Shirley Temple doll for Christmas, so I found a 1930's reproduction "cheater" print. This is a quilt the real Shirley could have had when she was a child.

I also made Sweet Pea a ballet bag, but evidently forgot to take a photo.

My final handmade gifts were eight (EIGHT) quilts, one for each of my children. I will post photos in a day or two when I recap my year-long Pajama-rama project.

I pray each of you has a wonderful Christmas day. Enjoy the day with family or friends, and in remembering the Wonder that God chose to come to earth and live as a man, and then die for us, to restore the relationship that we messed up in the first place.

"Thanks be to God for His unspeakable gift."

Flour Power

Tuesday was Cookie Day here at the Cottage. Lily's children came in their Christmas smocks. Unfortunately, Forget-me-not's boys were not able to come. We made a big mess even without them!
Learning to keep the cookie cutters close together, to get the most out of a rolling of dough.

Cambridge preferred to supervise, rather than get his hands dirty.

Baby Nettie (Myra) watched from her perch on Lily's shoulder.

Junior Asparagus and Sweet Pea get serious, and seriously flour-y.

Laura Carrot maintains that red lipstick makes you look fabulous!

Sweet Pea agrees!

Laura is not afraid to get up on the table to make sure she gets her turn.

We must have a bit of flour on our nose, or we're not really serious about Christmas baking.

Charming steps outside to take a photo of the falling snow. Merry Christmas, Bedford Falls!

Moving to the dining room for decorating. Junior's apron is up almost to his chest. I guess a new one is in order for next year!

It was so hard to wait to sample a cookie, but Sweet Pea voted thumbs up!

My beautiful Blackeyed Susan with Sweet Pea. (can't you read her thoughts: Pop-pop, I haven't finished my cookie yet!)

Big-boy Junior, almost seven years old!

We filled plates with cookies to send home with Lily and to send to Forget-me-not. It was a fun-filled morning!

I've Been Thinkin'...

...over at my other blog. Go take a look!