Random Musings

Last week I joined a friend for a few hours of fabulous fun. We drove to North Raleigh to visit "Wish Upon A Quilt" a fabric shop where neither of us had dared to venture. We ooohed, aahed, exclaimed, dreamed up patterns and imagined possibilities, almost kept our promise not to buy anything, then headed back down the road for a quick stop at a shop I'll just call the Bernina shop since I don't know its name. This store was simply fabric heaven. The colors were not only sectioned off according to style, but also according to color hues. I did keep my promise not to buy anything here, but it was oh so hard! I won't tell you how many quilt ideas I dreamed up or 'already in the plans' quilts I saw material for that would nicely supplement, but it is very safe to say that I plan to be back in that store before Christmas ready to buy. :) Another time-consuming hobby that I had to zone in on this week was our chickens. Big Buff as we call her, has gone &q

What is it with the "p" words that they are always filled with emotion? Perspective, promise, possibility, potential, and perseverance: all a viewpoint we strive towards, place hope inside regardless of reality, and struggle with on a frequent basis. Can you tell I've been quilting this morning? I'm about four hours shy of having 1/5 of Bobby's quilt finished. Yes, sadly, you read that correctly. I've found a blogger in Raleigh who is not only a Christian, but also machine quilts. While reading and looking at all the beautiful work she does, I'm impressed with how much any hobby or activity requires a lot of practice (there's another p word!) and learning to master all the intricate techniques. In short, everything takes a lot of time. Parenting (yep, another p word) usually demands a Mom or Dad sacrifice their own pursuits in the interest of the child and his or her development. We were laughing Sunday at how I had told Lydia we'd meet them

this small crew figured out how to up the seat level from three to four! patiently waiting turns and Piglet isn't the first "toy" to take a ride! Years ago, my younger sister cleaned out her son's toybox and kindly delivered a box and two tubs of toys to our house. "You need toys for children to play with" she told me with a laugh. Then the Belarussians came for four summers, and we found our toy stash growing by leaps and bounds. But I've found no matter who the child is, their favorite toy at our house is Mr. Bobby (or Uncle Bobby). The Belarussians about drove me crazy every day asking what time Poppa was coming home, and when other children have stayed with us, it's the same question almost every hour: "When does Mr. Bobby get home from work?" AND, about five years ago, I answered the phone one morning only to hear nothing. I kept saying "Hello" and was about to hang up the phone when I thought I heard a sob. It scared me

3.5 hours of weeding in the garden should easily replace weightlifting, don't you think? what a weeded garden should almost look like what a non-weeded garden that's had plenty of rain looks like and the friend you'll meet as you weed your garden what a baby bell pepper looks like...I'm so excited!!! and the forming of a cucumber Pics of the baby potatoes and tomatoes will have to wait. As for watermelon, the vine is growing but no flowers yet! Now if I can only finish the remaining 1/3 in less than three hours tomorrow!

When I stand before the Lord, I'll be standing alone. This journey is my own. Still I want man's advice, and I need man's approval, but this journey is my own Why would I want to live for man and pay the highest price? What would it mean to gain the world, only to lose my life? So much of what I do is to make a good impression. This journey is my own. So much of what I say is to make myself look better. This journey is my own I have never felt relief like I feel it right now. This journey is my own. 'Cause trying to please the world it was breaking me down, it was breaking me down Now I live and I breathe for an audience of one, now I live and I breath for an audience of one. Now I live and I breathe for an audience of one, 'cause I know this journey is my own

The ending of spring (I know, technically spring doesn't end until the middle of June, but I still operate on my childhood school schedule and the end of May meant SUMMER!) is still quite fun and exciting. The geese chase the dogs. The garden plants are growing. Thunderstorms. Baby kittens, dogs, chickens, and geese (though thankfully not at our house!) And the proverbial spring cleaning. Okay, maybe the cleaning isn't quite fun, but it is nice to have/see the finished project. One hall closet finished and um, well....a whole house left to go.

My oldest niece turns 16 this weekend. Bobby and I will join them for supper tomorrow night and present her with two presents: one is a box of candles, and the other has books and an i-tunes card. Along with her candles, her Dad will receive an Amish courting candle holder. The stand is in the shape of a heart, the actual holder is a swirled piece of metal that has a wooden knob that moves around the swirl, pushing the candle either up or down. According to the card that goes with it, if an Amish father likes his daughter's suitor, he'll push the candle up high. The boy can stay until it burns down to the metal. If he's not overly crazy about the boy, he'll set the candle low, so the boy can only stay for a little bit. And the books... I spent yesterday reading one and skimming the other. The one I read was "I Kissed Dating Goodbye" by Josh Harris. I had heard a lot about this book, and my niece actually informed me it's his younger brothers who wr

Fabric, like fine China, will have patterns or prints that get discontinued. When I first started learning to quilt, I read in several magazines and blogs that if you find a print you really, really, really like, then go ahead and get 3-4 yards. Otherwise, when you go to find it after you've finished your current project (which could be 3 months to 2 years down the road), the store will no longer have it. So for a while I did that. And since I'm also a clearance rack shopper, I found some pre-printed quilt tops that I really liked (you just quilt the material as is instead of cutting it up into shapes). And if you can get a quilt top for $1 - 3 (as opposed to $8 - 10), then who in their right mind wouldn't? If you use your imagination, I think you can realize I have a nice little stock of material. In addition to jaw-dropping prints and too good a deal to pass up quilt tops, I've also accumulated about three boxes of scraps.To a quilter, scraps are remnants of fabri

I've worked with a nice woman who did an excellent job at her work. I saw the fear and panic in her face after she was called into the office. I saw the fax from a family in California with the photo of an elderly woman, asking if this was the Sandra with her social security number at our workplace. This elderly woman, who had her identity stolen by an illegal immigrant who needed to work, suddenly had earned too much money in the last year to keep receiving her government medical insurance and payment for her nursing home. "Sandra" disappeared, and was later seen working at a restaurant in Wake County, most likely using and abusing someone else's social security number. I do understand and sympathize with people who are so desperate to work that they will do almost anything. But when the desperation crosses the line of the law, then according to many, I become "intolerant". I guess I've seen and heard of so much abuse from people who have no respe

To borrow a quote from Skye Mincy, "OH.MY.WORD." That sums up the last of the three houses we saw on this year's Henside the Beltline Tour d'Coop. Since Bobby and I are not heat tolerant, visiting three houses was about all we could stand on a "it's spring but it sure feels like summer" Saturday afternoon. We chose to visit homes on the northern part of the beltline as we've never hit that part of the tour before. The last home still has me in shock. Everything they used to build their hen house (and it's literally a house) came from Habitat for Humanity's resale place. the front doors to the hen house the librarian ladders for roosting nesting boxes and the ladder to the "lofts" a clock, decorations, a sink and telephone, you now, so the chickens now what time to call for room service the side view love the fancy ironwork over the door to the run the decorative trellis are stapled onto the chicken wire, disguising the &

This morning was the mother/daughter breakfast for the junior age kids at church. We thought we had everything set to run like clockwork. Set up tables and such at 8:30am, start the bacon by 8:40am, batter on the griddles by 8:45am, food ready to serve at 9:00am. We had the tables up by 8:40 and the bacon ready to start, but NONE OF OUR PLUGS WOULD WORK!!!! About the point the back of my brain is starting to scream "McDonald's is across the road!", plans C&D finally kicked in and started working. So for next year, here's what we need to know: a) the keys in the combination lock at the side door don't open the front door b) have a cooking table set up in three different classrooms c) bring extra extension cords d) one plug can only handle two waffle irons, or ONE coffee pot, or ONE blender, or ONE griddle e) don't forget the coffee f) the fuse box is behind the rolling bookcase in the front kid's room g) designate one person to be in charge of cooki

When we use the word heart, we normally either think of our emotions and passions, or we think of our ticker (or thumper , for those who exert themselves). Despite all the talk of exercise being good for the heart, seldom do I stop and think about it actually being a muscle. I've thought a lot about muscles this week. On Monday and Tuesday I spent some time helping a friend move boxes into storage, and my arm and leg muscles have reminded me about that activity every day since. It's strange to stop and think about the fact that muscle pain actually comes from small rips that use or exercise puts in the muscle. The "healed" muscle is supposedly a stronger and leaner muscle. The more you exercise, the more you tear down and build up the muscle. Now I'm not too crazy about the idea of that happening to my heart muscle. Perhaps it's not impacted in the same way. But our emotional heart muscle is. Think about it. Something happens that hurts, whether it be

Okay, I just finished looking at Sara's blog of the fabulous stores she found while visiting in-laws in California, and saw someone commented about her new header. So I scroll back to the top (yes, my husband is right...I'm not very observant) and see a picture of her standing in front of a PALETTE of fabric. Now I'm drooling. I think for my fiftieth birthday (I'm sure I'll have all my quilting projects done by then! haha) I need to take a fabric shop tour of the US. I've always heard that the northeastern states have wonderful quilting fabric shops, as well as the Amish communities in Pennsylvania, BUT after seeing that picture, I think California might just make it onto that list as well. And even brighter than seeing bolts of fabric stacked in every tone, shade, hue and tint of orange, I had a surprising phone call before 10am this morning. It was MOM! She was leaving the doctor's office and was free to go home and put her foot up for 3 days. She la

Small specks that look like sand That coat my doors and clothes and car And float through the air like smoke That make me hold my breath and slowly breathe as I walk to the mailbox; Even there your presence is visible as the lid showers all beneath with the residue. Almost invisible on its own but when gathered with friends creates a monstrous harmony that we simply try to swipe away with cloth and shine, but you return and return and return. When in the absence of your enemy the rain you multiply and billow behind cars and trucks and envelope my house, car, and being even more. You aggravate me, and yet it is from you that I am made and to where I will one day return.

It's so cool how God let's things happen, whether it be an overheard comment or a hug, right when we need them. So, based on the last two days, here's my top 10 list for this year's Mother Day: 10 Reasons Why I'm Glad to Be Childless No throw-up on me, my cart, or the floor while in Target. I've never had to move a car seat. I can shop in peace. I can afford to shop! I can actually have a focused conversation with someone without my kids running wild. We can afford to eat out. I can take a nap when I need to. "Couple Time" is not a luxury. I only have to fight with one person over the radio. I have time to blog about it.

When I was in the third grade, I had a very grouchy Sunday school teacher. In my mind, her number one goal in life was to bring out every bad action or thought I had and then promptly report it to my parents. There was no mercy with her, no feelings of love - just duty and responsibility. My mother admired this woman greatly, which aggravated me even more. Now, as an adult, I'm beginning to comprehend just how remarkable she was. Like most small-towned southern women, she married young. At age 14 she found herself with a telegram stating that her husband was MIA and presumed to be a prisoner of war in Germany. He was a tall man, about 6', and they say when he came home he weighed about 80 pounds. Needless to say, the first years of married life they actually had together were rough. Years later she lost her oldest child to a troubled marriage, a domestic dispute gone bad. Her youngest daughter sowed her wild oats and was horrendously reaping them as an adult, about the

I have always been told, and always believed, that any food cooked with alcohol would retain the flavor but not the alcoholic content. This year I started reading through a devotional that has an additional weight loss program with it. I've skimmed the weight loss program but have really focused on the devotional more. A few weeks ago I actually read through the recipes in the back of the book, and most of the ones that sound like food we'd eat call for cooking wine. I am the granddaughter of an alcoholic. My mother and my aunt are both tee- totalers . To them, alcohol is of the devil. My aunt will rant that she doesn't understand why our government is so anti-smoking but allows alcohol. Smoke has never abused anyone, forced anyone to hide or lock their bedroom doors in fear, caused people to lose their jobs, caused wrecks injuring or killing people, nor kept food off the table. My mother will quote you almost any verse in the Bible that gives a warning against wine o

Do you remember that HUGE chicken egg I showed you a few weeks ago? I showed it to my mother-in-law, and her eyes lit up and she said "That's a double yolk!" I must have had a shocked look on my face, for she laughed and said, "Don't give that one away. When you open up there will be two inside; I'm sure of it." And she was right. One of our chickens had twins. And they were tasty.

I've posted in the past about my amaryllis "mother's day" flowers. 30 years ago my grandfather bought them when my mother was diagnosed with melanoma. We've taken bulbs to transplant everywhere we've lived, and Mom brought some to my house the first few years we were here. They've been close to blooming. Today, after the phone call from my Dad saying Mom once again has melanoma, I walk outside, and the flowers by the door have bloomed. It's my rainbow, a sign of beauty, my reminder of hope. Christ is here, and he's in the boat with me.

Two weekends ago my hometown, specifically the subdivision I lived in, was hit by a tornado. This past weekend where I went to college was flooded. At least five of my friends in Nashville are okay, though two FWB churches and the Randall House printing & bookstore were flooded. We're still waiting word on the college itself. Yesterday's jr church lesson was on possessions and God's view of them. Last night's lesson was on our possessions, the needs of others, and our willingness to share and help, specifically for those impacted by national disasters such as famines. Isn't it neat how the lessons we learn in church are always applicable to our lives?

Yesterday while reading the comics (you know that section of the paper you always read first, just in case you don't have time for anything else), I was quite shocked to read this in one of my favorite strips: Now, is Frazz saying he thinks the Bible is contradictory, or that the boy would think that? I was a tad offended, until I read the last panel. Just because you don't understand the section you are reading of something doesn't mean it contradicts the earlier parts. Or is he saying that only applies to math or science? Either way, it saddens me greatly that the world perceives Christians as ignorant, foolish, and illogical. I know Christ said the simplicity of our beliefs would cause people to claim the faith foolishness, but we have to admit there are tons of Christians who give credence to the claims of the world. And I struggle greatly sometimes with where to draw the line on things. I feel too many Christians shun the arts (both artwork and literature), astr