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?

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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.
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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?

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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..."

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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.

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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...

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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!

I Really Didn't Fall Off the Planet...

....I just got busy! (I know, no excuse, we're ALL busy.)

I promised to tell about my sister's Happy Box. Now, in my busy-ness I neglected to take photos of everything, so sharing with you might be oh-so-boring. But I will press on, because someday you might want to make a Happy Box for somebody you love.

My sister and I grew up, a product of the '50's and early '60's, so I am always on the lookout for things that remind us of that time. First up: a teen-book from 1943, Jane Withers and the Phantom Violin. The title page has a subtitle: featuring the film STAR Jane Withers. This is a sort of Nancy Drew-like story, and, as for Jane Withers, if you are just a little older than some, you might remember Josephine the Plumber from commercials in the 60's and 70's. *That* was also Jane Withers.

Next up: two beautiful vintage hankies. One was floral, purple and green. When I picked it up at the antique store, it was beautifully starched and ready for dabbing at a teary eye at the movies. The other hankie was an apricot-colored linen, embroidered with an "A" monogram. I told my sister she needed to change her name to Anne, or maybe jAnet.

Next: a copy of the same sewing book my mother had in her home while we were growing up. It is Constance Talbot's Complete Book of Sewing. We laughed over some of the illustrations in the book that we remembered.

Finally, a cup-and-saucer in the pattern Golden Wheat. These dishes were given as premiums in the 1950's in boxes of Duz detergent. Many, many of your mothers or grandmas had these dishes in their homes, as did our mother. Of course, all of our dishes are long gone, but sometimes I see them in thrift or antique stores. I was able to score two cup-and-saucer sets, one for me and one for my sister.

So, see how easy it is? I just keep my eyes out throughout the year, to gather fun things to laugh over. It doesn't matter what they are or how much they cost. One year I had a couple of hometown newspaper articles about something special. The year that Joe Hardy worked at Starbucks, and got a pound of coffee free every week, I stuck a pound of her favorite beans in the box. Or a little cassette tape of a song we used to sing to on the radio while getting ready for school. See how it works?

I'm sad today, because Janet is going back to her home in the west (she's driving, so she's trying to skirt the blizzard that is coming through the plains) and I just want some more talk-time. But it will wait till next time. In the mean-time, I'll be scouting out items for next year's Happy Box.

Happy Birthday, Janet the Planet!

Today is my sister's birthday!

Now, if you don't have a sister, Janet is the one you always wanted. She is 6 1/2 years older than I, which means I got to get into all her makeup and stuff, and play her Beatles 45's when she wasn't looking.

Her nickname was Janet the Planet, which means nothing, except that there is no other word which rhymes with Janet. This, of course, is opposed to my name, Barbara...oh, well, never mind.

On Janet's fifth birthday (November 21, 19*53), my Daddy bought a television set. It was the very first day tv's went on sale in our town. I heard the story so many times during my childhood, that I thought maybe it was an urban legend or something. Then, in 2003, Channel 33 ran a documentary about the 50th year of television: "We went on the air November 21, 19*53..."

Janet is a Svengali--she could get me to do anything. Got me to clean the boys' "offerings" around the base of the toilet by saying the Outside was not as bad as the Inside, which she cleaned with a brush. Offered to play Clue with me, but she always cheated. If she won, I had to kiss her toes.

Other than usin'-and-abusin' us, she was the Funnest. Sister. Ever. She has lived far, far away for over forty years (married an Air Force guy), so I don't see her very often. But, since we both know the Lord, that doesn't matter. Our relationship is sweet, like she is.

Janet is coming to see me next week! I am getting her Happy Box ready. (this is a collection of things I find during the year...I'll post about them next week, and you'll see why I call it a Happy Box.) It's going to be a great week!

Happy birthday, dear sister. I love you. But I'm *on to* your tricks now. Next time we play Clue, you won't get me to close my eyes. And I'm sorry about the time you had all those stacks of Girl Scout cookies in our room, and I ate one cookie out of each of about twelve boxes. And that time you caught me with your eyelash curler in your hand, and I said I didn't do it? Well, I did.

However, that time someone gave me a piece of a Hershey bar while I was walking home from school, and later you accused me of getting into the Oreos, and I said I didn't, and you made me open my mouth and saw chocolate, and told Mother I lied? Well, I didn't.

Na-na-na-na on You. I know you feel bad now.

Catsup Time

If you're old enough, you might remember Hunt's Catsup. This would be opposed to Heinz Ketchup. As a child, I was concerned, because they were one and the same product, but my family pronounced it "ketchup," so spelling it that other way seemed a little silly to me. So instead of saying "Catch-up Time," as I usually do in these bloggy situations, I thought I'd do something Just A Little Different.

After making a nice little resolution to take the month of November to be thankful for something every day, I fell off the wagon the very first day of the month! So, here goes with Thankful, part deux...

Monday, November 2

Today I am thankful for my brother Rick. He is just fourteen months younger than I, and was born four days before Eisenhower was elected for the second time. (gollee, does that sound old!) He and I are very close, and always have been. I can't remember a single instance of sibling rivalry with him, though I'm sure there are minor incidents here and there. Our relationship was cemented when I was pregnant with Violet at nineteen, and living at home. In the middle of the night, throwing up in the bathroom next to his room, I'd wake him up to commiserate with me. He never complained. We still speak about those times, even though there is *so* much more life we've lived since then. Love you brother, and a very happy birthday to you!

Tuesday, November 3

Today I am thankful for our beautiful miracle baby, Myra. Go here to see a new photo. I do, however, need to choose a blog-name for her, as my custom is to use fictional names for the family.

Myra shares my middle name, Annette. With one person in my life, I have the nickname Nettie. (you can read about *that* here.) So I thought Nettie would be cute. I was pleasantly surprised to learn that Johnny Tremain and Lily had discussed the same nickname for Myra in real life! So, Nettie it is!

Thank you so very much for all of the prayers for Nettie. I think of the verse, "the effectual fervent prayer of the righteous availeth much." So, so true. Please continue to pray for stomach issues--she acts colicky, and possibly is bothered with acid tummy. (it all plays out the same in her fussy times!) Otherwise, she is gaining weight, and growing in all those beautiful baby ways.

Wednesday, November 4

Testimony time! You may or may not know that Charming and I went through a major, major marriage crisis early in our marriage. We have spoken a number of times in marriage classes and marriage retreats, giving our testimony of God's restoration. And you know, when God fixes something, it is better than it was before it was broken!

Last night, Rocky Balboa brought Blueberry and Oxford over to see Mom-Mom and Pop-Pop for a few minutes. Rocky was so, so excited he could hardly speak. He had shared our testimony with a woman at work who thought her marriage was over. Things are very bad, but the woman wants to come to church to find out what the Lord can do in her life. Hooray! Thank you, Lord, for Your healing work in our lives, that You can use to help others!

Thursday, November 5

Two things today: today is Winnie's birthday (see "Nettie" link above to find out about Winnie.) I thank the Lord for Winnie, my dear sister-friend.

The other thing I am thankful for today is Indoor Plumbing. (don't laugh)

I have often said that I am richer than Solomon ever was, because I have indoor plumbing. Think about it. You'll agree. But I was up in the middle of the night, making my way to the bathroom in my centrally-heated house. And I thought about chamber pots. Good at their purpose, but of course they needed emptying each day. That led me to think about....

Laura Ingalls. Chamber pots. "The Long Winter." Whoa.

I know you'll be thankful too, today, for your indoor potty.

So now I'm caught up!

Oops...

(Violet took me shopping and bought me this outfit.)

Okay, so I forgot to put the REST of my post in earlier. I was going to put the little poem down, and then put *my* view of November. Ditz-brain-fog settled in, and I pushed "post" after the poem.

Sorry.

November is a very nice month. As in, November is Nice! My sister's birthday is in November, as well as my next-to-me brother's. Not to mention Alvin Fernald's--he'll be turning fifteen. November is the month of Thanksgiving and all that beginning-of-the-holidays-getting-closer-to-Christmas thing.

In fact, I had a homeschool friend of mine tell me she was making November an entire Month of Thanksgiving. So I'll try, every post, to be thankful for something, 'kay?

November 1st: Gotta go with God's provision. Charming has been out of work for four months-plus now. We still have our house and all of its utilities...ON. Still eating. Still wearing clothes. What is that verse?

So if we have food to eat and clothes to wear, therewith be content.

And thankful! God is not moving at my requested pace (so, when does He ever?) and I am trying to learn. Trying to not-worry. Trying to praise Him for His goodness in this situation.

Because He IS good. Yep, all the time.

Thank you, my Father, for your bounteous provision.

November--No Way!

No warmth, no cheerfulness, no healthful ease,

No comfortable feel in any member--

No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees,

No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds,

November!

--from a poem by Thomas Hood

Hear ye, hear ye...

....Rocky Balboa and Forget-me-not are expecting!

Forget-me-not has given birth to two of my very favorite grandchildren. But Blueberry was born three months before Lily's Sweet Pea, and Oxford was born just four weeks before Cambridge. Her boys were also born in tandem with their cousins on Rocky's side of the family.

But not so this time!

As you know, Myra is just a month old. Rocky's sister and sister-in-law had babies this summer. So, for the first time ever (drumroll please): Forget-me-not is pregnant all by her lonesome!

We can celebrate! Party! Shower! Boast!

It's. All. About. Forget-me-not. And that's the way it should be, you know?

(the baby is due June 28th, and we're hopin' for a girl.)

Four hundred ninety-four years ago...

(okay, so my son pointed out that it is FIVE hundred ninety-four years ago...)

"This day is call'd the feast of Crispian.
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say, 'Tomorrow is Saint Crispian.'
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say, 'These wounds I had on Crispian's day,'
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember, with advantages,
What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words--
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester--
Be in their flowing cups freshly rememb'red.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered--
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day."
William Shakespeare, Henry V.


If you have never read Henry V, I would encourage you to do so. When we studied it last year, we got the book version, and read-along-with an audio version. After we were finished, we "treated" ourselves with the BBC version on dvd.

Even though details of the Battle of Agincourt (October 25, 1415) were probably "enhanced" by Shakespeare, it is an excellent picture of battle during that time in history. I had never studied a lot of English history when I was in school (past the Magna Carta, 1215 doncha know), so it was quite a new experience for me.

Props to Violet (my masters-in-English daughter) for suggesting it for our homeschool!

Baby Myra...

....is coming HOME to her family today!

...From a baby who was born not breathing and without a heartbeat (Apgar scores 0, 2, and 4), who at 30 hours of age had still not taken a breath on her own, kidneys and liver shutting down, doctors predicting that if she survived at all, she would be a vegetable, and counseling Johnny Tremain and Lily to disconnect the machines....

...to a baby, one day shy of a month old, going home fulltime breastfeeding, and without monitors or wires of any kind. Even three days ago, they trained Lily for a heart/apnea monitor to be used at home, and told her that Myra would get too tired nursing, without supplemental bottle feedings.

The doctors could sustain her life with equipment. But there was nothing they could do to revive her organs, or give her brain any function. ONLY GOD could do this work. It was not too big a job for Myra's Creator to re-Create.

To HIM be all the Glory!

"I raised you up for this very purpose, that I might display My power in you, and that My name might be proclaimed in all the earth." Romans 9:17

Prayer Vigil for Baby Myra

Myra was two weeks old yesterday. She has done a whole lotta livin' in those two little weeks!

Myra makes little steps ahead every day. One of the five neonatologists always has a negative report. "She is very sure" that the tremors Myra has are seizures. The other four doctors are very sure they are NOT seizures. Lady Doctor was sure Myra is probably deaf, blind, or both. But, even with others talking around her, when Myra's Mommy talks to her, she opens her eyes and turns toward Her voice. Yesterday, Lady Doctor said, "Look at that. Myra is focusing on my face." (something every blind baby does, you know...)

A friend of Lily's has organized a prayer vigil for tonight. You can pray anytime between 9pm and midnight. Just take a few minutes to pray for these specific needs:

1) Myra's brain. No one knows yet what damage may have been done. We are BELIEVING that God will restore it to full function, as He has already done with her heart, kidneys, liver. Her "soft spot" seems to be closing faster than normal. Pray that her brain has room to grow. Add in a prayer for her eyes and ears.

2) Please pray also for her suck/swallow reflex. The nurses tell Lily that Myra won't suck on a pacifier. Lily is there for Hours every day. The nurses try to get her to suck every time they "assess"--every few hours. They always try to make Myra suck when she is asleep. However, when she is awake, Lily sticks the paci in, and Myra sucks away.

A beautiful thing is happening. When they feed Myra breast milk through her feeding tube, Myra settles down. She LIKES milk in her tummy! And, since they are feeding her every three hours, Lily is noticing that Myra is waking 10-15 minutes before feeding time. She is learning what "hungry" feels like, and is anticipating food. Sounds pretty normal to me!

3) related to number 2: If she shows sucking and swallowing, she will not have to go home with a feeding tube. Not a deal-breaker, (she can go home if other things are in order) but we want her Whole!

I want to share a couple of verses that have spoken to Lily in the past few days. She has been *living* in 1 and 2 Corinthians.

from Myra's perspective:

1 Corinthians 10:15 "but by the grace of God I am what I am, and His grace to me was not without effect."

and look at this one:

2 Corinthians 1:8b-11 "We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired even of life. Indeed, in our hearts we felt the sentence of death. But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves, but on God who raises the dead. He has delivered us from such a deadly peril, and will deliver us. On Him we have set our hope that He will continue to deliver us, as you help us by your prayers. Then many will give thanks on our behalf for the gracious favor granted us in answer to the prayers of many."

Here is a link to the facebook page for the prayer vigil. There are photos and a video of Myra posted there, as well:

http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=1017373734&v=info&ref=nf#/event.php?eid=150752002330&ref=nf

I hope you can join us this evening as we pray for Myra's full recovery. Thank you so much!

Myra...

...is one week old today.

...had bre*st milk for the first time yesterday.

...is off the ventilator, which means...

Lily and Johnny Tremain can hold her today!

...(and, hopefully, Grandma!)

Quickie Update

Here's the Sunday news about Baby Myra:

Urine output continues to be normal. Tests need to be done to determine whether the kidneys are Cleaning the blood properly. My guess (because I'm trusting the Lord) is that they will get a rave review!

Her ventilator was changed from the "jet" one to the one she controls on her own, because she is breathing by herself. They reduce the pressure every four hours, and the O2 is down to 50%. She is learning to get enough oxygen on her own, but has the ventilator support should she get too tired.

Sunday morning, Myra's face woke up. She began doing those little smiley-gestures, and scrunching her eyes. We're still waiting for her beautiful eyes to open, but I don't think it will be very long!

They began i.v. proteins and fats, because they had had no evidence that her digestive tract was working. (of course, she hadn't had any food, but...) They told Lily they would look for gas in the tummy (found via stethoscope). At 8pm Lily was able to change her diaper, and it was POOPY! ("Is that enough evidence???" she asked.) Lily was very excited that when she took off the diaper, the baby's legs pulled back, and she flinched at the cold wipe.

Tonight Lily goes home. Without her baby, but knowing that the Lord is not only going home with her, but also staying behind to care for Myra. To Him be the Glory!!

Baby News

It is really difficult to believe that the baby is only three days old. I feel like I've lived three weeks in that time.

At thirty-six hours old, a very negative neonatologist gave Johnny Tremain and Lily a very negative report. (this same doctor came into Lily's recovery room before she was completely "with it", and told her that she'd better prepare to pull the plug on Baby, that she probably wasn't going to make it. Yeah. Just the kind of person you want caring for your baby.)

The report was that Baby's kidneys were shutting down. She still wasn't breathing on her own, and was "unresponsive." Those responses Mommy and Daddy got from stroking her legs didn't mean anything, just reflex. Her nervous system wasn't working, and her heart was working as if it were in utero. In two or three days, a decision Must be reached.

Well, the family and friends decided to get a Second Opinion from a Greater Physician.

I took a nap (which always puts my head on straight) and then family and a few close friends gathered in the NICU family lounge. We put together Bible verses while Lily's children came up to see the baby. Johnny took the children home to put them to bed, and a friend stayed so he could come back for a prayer vigil.

In the Hebrew culture, the father has the authority over his children, to plead to God on their behalf. The grandfather also has authority: remember when Joseph was in Egypt? When Jacob finally came to see him, he said, "Bring me your sons Ephraim and Manasseh, so I may bless them." So we anointed Charming and Johnny with frankincense oil, and Charming played and sang for Baby while Johnny prayed over his daughter. The Lord had given Johnny a passage from Psalms 33:18-22:

"But the eyes of the LORD are on those who fear Him, on those whose hope is in His unfailing love, to deliver them from death and keep them alive in famine. We wait in hope for the LORD; He is our help and our shield. In Him our hearts rejoice, for we trust in His holy name. May your unfailing love rest upon us, LORD, even as we put our hope in You."

In the lounge, the two grandmas and Lily were anointed, and everyone gathered for prayer. It was a powerful, yet very sweet time of fellowship with the Lord.

A little before noon the next day, we got another report. Baby was breathing on her own, so they lowered the ventilator. Her arms and legs were showing voluntary movement. Her urine output was near normal.

We have been talking for these few days about the difference between Faith and Trust. Faith is saying, " I know God CAN do it." Trust is Knowing He WILL do it. Think about Peter in the boat, when Jesus called to him. He didn't step out, knowing Jesus "could" do it. He KNEW Jesus would do it, and stepped out. Same with Abraham and Isaac. "God WILL provide a lamb." Even if God chose to let Abraham slay Isaac, Abraham knew God would still fulfill His promise.

We've been on a journey to give Baby to the Lord, fully, knowing that He knows best. Even if the "days written in His book" (Ps. 139) are limited. But we are Asking for a long, healthy life. Because He said we could ask.

And now, we're Expecting His best.

**************************************
I just wanted to let you know how awesome a prayer network has gone out for dear Baby. God has used facebook in a mighty way. We posted a note when Lily went in the hospital for prayer. Friends of friends posted as well. Their friends (like, two generations away from people we knew ourselves) started prayer chains in their church. People in so many different states. Even around the world--Baby has two grown-up soldier cousins in Korea, having people pray. People sharing words from the Word. One lady seeing angels hovering over Baby, bringing healing (and in particular, a new kidney--this lady did not know the actual report of the doctor). Our pastor, while praying, saw Baby at three years old, dancing with other children in service. He sees it as a promise.

What an awesome, incredible God we have. All seven billion people in the world, and He has Time to take care of Baby in this intimate way. To Him be the glory!

Announcing...

...the birth of our seventh grandchild, a girl. Five pounds, fifteen ounces.

But before she came, she let us know she was In Trouble.

Wednesday night, Lily's water broke. And it was dark green, meconium-filled.

Trash the quiet-birth-at-home plans. Rush to the hospital. Baby's heartrate dipping below 100 during contractions. Whisked to the OR for an emergency C-section.

She has yet to take a breath on her own. She went from the ob's hands to the neonatologist's hands before the ob even knew the gender. She is on a ventilator, and was labeled "unresponsive." That has been amended: this afternoon, her Daddy and Mommy visited, stroking her legs. She moved her foot in response. The nurse verified that that constituted Voluntary Movement.

They did a heart ultrasound, a brain ultrasound, EEG. "You need to wait for the neurologist to read results." As of 9 pm, still waiting. To see if brain damage has occurred.

The GOOD NEWS is that we don't have to wait for God to interpret the tests. He is In Control. He was not surprised at our "emergency"; in fact, He's the One who broke the water so Lily could get help. He knows the Beginning from the End in this situation.

I am watching Grace happen. That Peace that Passes Understanding is settling on Johnny Tremain and Lily. They are being forced to play the Waiting Game. But the Lord is right in the room, Waiting with them. He is also in Baby's room, watching over her. Never sleeping. No change of shifts on His watch.

Prayers of dozens, dozens of believers are being lifted on their behalf. I am so, so grateful for the network of prayer going up. I am so "in the middle" that my prayers don't seem very powerful. I'm stuck at, "God, please!" Others are doing powerful intercession on our behalf.

Thank you for letting me share. I will share more as I get info. But actually, I have all the info I really need. God is Good. All the Time.

Serendipities.

Probably "serendipities" is not the correct word for this post. But I get a little tired of thinking up cute words for just tidbits of here-and-there-ness around the Cottage.

I wanted to brag on Forget-me-not. She got a word in facebook-Scrabble that netted her 167 points! She actually hit two triple-word scores with one word, as well as using her seven letters. My joy for her accomplisment is dimmed only by the fact that *I* am her opponent in that game, and it looks like she is going to beat me by 200+ points. I'm afraid to see what that will do to my our ratings.

Lily is now fully due to have her fifth baby. She was actually due yesterday, her birthday, but she is always late, sometimes more than others. This baby didn't want to rock the boat, I guess.

Lily asked to borrow our video camera, as hers is on the blink. When I took it out of the case to charge it, what should I find but the charging/uploading cord to the fabulous digital cam I received for Christmas last year! I have never been able to take photos after the first time that the battery wore down. After downloading the photos that were on the memory card, I discovered that Alvin Fernald has grown a good bit this year!

Now to Alvin. Football is something that Alvin is enjoying, and Mommy is trying to ignore, at least the inherent prone-ness to injury. Last week he hurt his shoulder, but it seemed to be feeling better. Then he came home from practice last evening looking like this:

One more on his chin:

I didn't even take a photo of his back.

These bruises were caused mostly by helmets, he says. You may see little circular bruises that look like sprinkles of something--those are the holes in his mesh jersey, and the skin bruised *through* the shirt. He called it "tackle" practice.

Okay, now I'm counting the weeks till it's over. And I don't think I will ever watch football on tv the same way again, either.

Forget-me-not and her boys are picking me up this morning to go see my Daddy at the nursing home. Many times when I speak with him on the phone, his speech is very slow, and he finds it hard to choose his words. Sometimes that is due to his blood sugar, and sometimes just due to the fact that he is 87 years old. I treasure each visit I have with him, knowing that someday soon, I won't be able visit him. I'll just have to wait to see him when we are all "over yonder."

That's about all. I am working on Christmas surprises, and a "boy" quilt for Lily. I already had a "girl" quilt ready. Now it's just a Waiting Game.

At least I'll have a camera ready!

There I Go Again.

Well, I've been shooting off my mouth Thinking again.

Go check it out!

Thinking Again.

I mentioned yesterday that I accidentally deleted this photo of my Barbara Star quilt "in progress." I am about 60% done with the hand quilting. I am quilting it in diagonal rows, the same way my grandma did the original.

My grandma quilted almost every one of her quilts in diagonal rows. I used to wonder why she didn't get any more adventurous in her quilting designs.

As usual, I judge people without knowing nuthin' about it. A few years ago I read in a quilting book that this style of quilting (diagonal rows) was the Trendy Thing when grandma started quilting. So actually she was on the Cutting Edge there.

Silly me. Silly all of us. Don't we rush to judgment all the time, about all kinds of things? *WHY* did those people paint their house that horrid color? *WHY* does that person wear crew-length black socks with white running shoes? *WHY* would someone choose that song for a wedding? On and on and on.

I've gotten more aware of this lately. I used to watch What Not To Wear, and laugh with everybody else at the secret videos. Until I saw a show where the lady dressed like...ME. Another time I was watching a bathroom-makeover show on the DIY network. I thought the bathroom in the "before" shots looked pretty good. Not 2009, but certainly not 1979, you know? And what did the new owners say? "This looks like a bathroom for RETIRED PEOPLE!!"

Actually, it looked like a bathroom for People Who Don't Rip Everything Out and Replace It With Glass Tile Every 24 Months.

Charming played for worship Sunday in a church in a small town 35 miles away. We were driving along, looking at the modest homes in the town, and musing about how 90% of the world would think them luxurious. Roofs that don't leak. Running water and toilets. Running HOT water. Central heating.

So when we have food and clothing and a dry place to live? "Therewith be content."

I sorta got off-on-a-tangent there. Thanks for staying with me.

Happenings Around the Cottage

Well, of course, last week was a busy week. Second week of school--I think Blackeyed Susan and Alvin Fernald are getting used to the new regime. Susan is only complaining about Getting Up Early and Homework. I don't know of a high-schooler who doesn't complain about those, right?

A friend shared some farm-eggs with us. These things are HUGE, all with double-yolks:
I put a store-bought "large" egg beside one of these brown beauties to compare:

We had to eat them, because I couldn't figure out how to use them in brownies! At one time, I learned the cup-measures for all of the store sizes, medium, large and jumbo: kinda like 1/3 cup, 1/2 cup, etc? But since we *could* eat them, I just didn't bother.

But my two-eggs-and-toast was a tad more filling than usual.

My neighbor Linda sent over a selection of her gorgeous tomatoes. Some of them are vintage varieties, and, as you can see, very colorful. We call this "a bowl of candy" because of their sweetness, and eat many of them as such. The rest will go on our lunch salad today:

On the crafting front, I am about 60% done, quilting my Barbara Star quilt...

[the photo of which I just DELETED!!!!!!!!! I'll post it again the next time...]

...working on a surprise for Christmas...

...and making props for our Missions Conference Parade at church. These are burlap bags filled with balled-up newspaper, that can represent beans if you're from Latin America, or rice if you are Asian:

Finally, any crafting that happens after September 1st is accompanied by Christmas music. This is a habit I developed in high school, to get me in the mood for the presents I knit/sewed/crafted for my friends. So, the case of Christmas cd's came out this week, and is doing its duty, setting the mood!

I didn't take a photo of our newly repaired window in the kitchen. Alvin and his friend DISOBEYED the house rule of no-real-baseball-throwing in the backyard (or front yard, for that matter). We have a custom of using tennis balls in the yard, and baseballs reserved for the park down the street. The window they broke was a double-paned custom jobbie. Charming took it to the hardware store, but they could not fix it as it was. The frame was constructed around the glass, so there was no knock-out-the-glass-put-a-new-piece-in. Since we did not have several hundred $$$ to buy a new window, Charming and MacGuyver spent the afternoon chisel-ing out the frame so it would be able to receive a regular ol' pane of glass. I thought Charming especially smart to choose plexiglass. Cost: $42 for the glass, $15 labor, and $12 for the wood-chisel.

Quite the week.

Oh, yes, I wanted to update you on Freshman Football. Unfortunately, SSHS (Green! White! Fight! Fight!) lost to the big "S" school, but Alvin was not injured. Friday night the varsity team beat the next rival, which is the school the freshmen play this Thursday.

Sigh. Only six more games to pray Alvin through.

Oh, and by-the-way, of course you saw that ND beat Nevada 35-0. First shutout for ND since 2002. Do you think they can do that again next week against Michigan?

Wake up the echoes, baby.

If Women Weren't Around to Civilize Men, They Would Never Shower and They Would Just Stand Their Jeans in the Corner of The Cave Every Night.

You may have observed around Playoff time in any professional sport, the custom of say, an entire team not shaving from the beginning of playoffs until the World Series or the Super Bowl or the NBA Championship or Stanley Cup or whatever. Little quasi-superstitious customs that ensure "good luck." I personally a) never understood the concept (do female athletes do this?) and b) never actually observed a quantifiable difference in the results. I mean, if both teams refuse to shave, how does "luck" improve? And, plenty of times, the Cubs completely-random-teams don't win, anyway.

That brings me to Alvin Fernald's freshman football team.

Now, our high school is designated 4A. Schools in our state are rated by their student population. Several high schools in our city are ranked 5A, two of them having over twice as many students as S.S.H.S. You also need to know that our school has three teams: varsity, junior varsity, and freshman. Varsity teams play Friday nights, j.v. plays the same opponent the following Monday, and freshmen the following Thursday.

Last week, Alvin was third-string QB and first-team Special Teams. We played my alma mater, B.D. The varsity lost to them, but the freshmen won, for the first time in four years! Alvin was instrumental in two plays, one of which he ran 60 yards to tackle a guy, stopping an Imminent Touchdown in the process.

Now to This Week. Last Friday night, S.S.H.S. BEAT Uber-Rival The-Other-"S"-School. (we can't bear to say their name.) This school has 5000 students (SSHS has 1500). This was a Big Upset. In addition, during last week's freshman game, 1st-string QB busted his finger, and 2nd-string QB broke his collarbone. This set up Alvin to be 1st-string against Uber-Rival. (did I mention that Uber-Rival has Two freshman teams?) Unfortunately (or may his Mommy say "fortunately"?) 1st-String guy only jammed his finger and may start. But, certainly, Alvin will get playing time.

Now to the Superstition part. All team members and cheerleaders and coaches and such, always wear their jerseys (or uniforms) to school on Game Day. Last night, Alvin brought home his jersey. This is the same Number 10 that the varsity guy wore Friday night. It smelled foul, people, FOUL. Not just body odor, maybe they put-it-away-wet and there was some mildew involved, as well. I offered to Launder it for Alvin: "OH, NO, Mom, can't do that! We BEAT "S" school in that jersey!"

As the evening progressed, we noticed the jersey more and more. Finally, even Alvin couldn't stand it any more: "OKAY, Mom, let's wash the jersey. I have to wear it to school all day, and there are GIRLS!"

Yet another instance of Women Civilizing Men.

On a serious note, I, MOM, am completely concerned about Injuries. Would you take a little moment and pray for Alvin today?

(I'll let you know how it turns out tonight. Go Archers!)