Maisy's room

I've been working on some projects for Maisy's room. I started collecting inspiration and decided it was about time I acted on it. So Monday, I made some rain drops to add to her cloud/chinese lanterns.

I cut the rain drops out of wool felt and zig zag stitched it to some matching yarn.
Then I hung them from her ceiling with Command hooks. It definitely needed a little shot of color, so a yellow tissue paper pom pom did the trick, and we have a sun. She loves her little sky mobile above her bed and the other two girls were jealous.
Then I started on a blanket for her bed. She hasn't seen it yet, so I'm leaning towards saving it for Christmas or her birthday. It has already doubled in size since this picture and I can see that grannys are addictive.
I'm sure many copies of this blanket are in my future. Next up is artwork and curtains.

The education of little ones

We have a full-fledged farm here. In the spring we got baby chicks, by late summer we had fourteen. In the last two weeks we have crammed in two years of farm education. It all started with at least one raccoon, a possum, and a wild cat.

We are down to eleven chickens. But we caught the culprits. It was sad. The kids were devastated to find the dead chickens each morning. It was difficult and frustrating not being able to keep them safe.
Then last week we were asked to stable two horses, a mare and a fowl. They are beautiful and the kids have loved going out to see them.
Sunday, before church, Sadie went out to check on the animals. She came running in quite upset. Evan went out to see what was wrong.
The momma horse lost a baby. She was four months along and the baby horse didn't make it. It was very sad. We had a burial and a little graveside moment of silence.

Since then we have had many talks about miscarriages. This morning she asked about my miscarriage. That was difficult. She hopes she never goes through that and I hope she won't, with all my heart. We talked about bodies and spirits. And about death and life after death. Its a lot of education in a little time.

Hidden message rubber bands

Every once in a while, when I get produce, asparagus or broccoli, they are wrapped in these great strong rubber bands. I sometimes save them in a kitchen drawer. When I came across one while cooking dinner, I thought about hidden messages. Now, I really thought that this was a no big deal thing, but my kids went crazy for them and my husband was impressed, so here you go.

Stretch your rubber band across a flat surface (I used a cookie sheet, as a kid we used our desks.) The wider the stretch, the more hidden the message. Write your message across the rubber band, turning and stretching as you go. A fine point permanent marker works best, other pens disappear with wear and hand washing. I wrote song lyrics, poems, scriptures, and little affirmations on mine.
Then, I put them in their lunch boxes with a little message telling the kids to stretch to read their message and that they could wear them to remind them that I love them.
They loved them and were excited by the secrecy of the whole thing.

Soap resist antiqueing

I went to the thrift store last week. The kids were all back in school and it was calling to me. Expecting to pick up a few books, I was excited to find this pretty frame. A lot of the detail work had come off and it was obviously going to happen again at some point, but the dollar price tag was too good to pass up.

When I brought it home the first thing Evan noticed was the roses cut out of a magazine and taped to black velvet artwork inside. I hurried and ripped that out and said, "No, look at the frame." So then he noticed the pieces of exposed wood where the little detailing had come off. Someday he'll see my vision.
I have found quite a few pieces like this at the thrift store, mostly large, gilded mirrors. One was even painted red over the gold. I wanted some of the gilding to show through whatever color I painted them, but sand paper proved to be too rough and removed everything. I tried using a candle to leave a wax resist for the paint, but it was too hard and removed some of the detailing on one of the mirrors. So I tried soap and it was just the right softness to glide over the frame and leave behind a residue without removing any of the original finish. (I'm sure I'm not the first person to use soap, but here's what I do.)
I gently rubbed the soap over the frame,leaving a soapy residue. It helps if you use soap that is a different color than your paint, which I didn't. Sorry.
I try not to get any on the places where there is already wear, unless I want that to show too.
Then spray paint. I did three or four light coats, letting them dry. Once the paint is dry, get a soft rag quite wet with warm water and go over the frame to get rid of the soap.
And that's it. If you "over-soaped " you can re-spray in some areas.
The little bit of gold shows through as if it were an old finish with wear.

Dehydrated

We have had an infestation of Mediterranean House Geckos. And let me just say they are nothing like the little gecko on TV.

(image courtesy of Wikipedia)

They are very small and albino-like in color. They hide, so you have to shake your shoes before you put them on. We "had" an infestation, because they are now mostly dead, even though we promise none were intentionally harmed. I think it is the lack of water, because they are shriveled when I find them. Okay, maybe it isn't an infestation, I have found about a dozen, but still no one wants to find a tiny cream colored, box-faced lizard, alive or shriveled.

Out of place

Hunting season began a little over a week ago. Right now it is dove hunting, but that is just the start. Camouflage is everywhere, even the Walmart employees have traded in their trademark blue for camo.

BLM does not own land in Texas, land is private. So to hunt you have to know someone or pay money. Hunting ranches are everywhere. For a few thousand dollars you can kill just about anything. It sounds more like an ambush to me, but they have these feeders that go off at a certain time every day. The hunter hides in a blind at the right time and then has his pick of the animals that feed there, depending on the season.
There is a hunting bed and breakfast behind our house. The last two Sunday afternoons we have heared gunshots constantly. It makes me nervous, especially when I hear what sounds like pebbles falling on our roof.
We have been told that you don't look up during dove season. I don't like that idea. I'm wondering if I should dress my kids in orange to play in the backyard. The people I have asked about this look at me like I'm silly. I think the truth is I'm just not Texan.
(The pictures are of our backyard. We have these little visitors everyday. Most days its the whole family, but today it was just the two little fawns.)

September 10, 2001 found Sadie and I in an antique store. We were new to town and I had wanted to go in the big red barn since we moved to Mount Pleasant, South Carolina. It was just before you crossed the draw bridge to Sullivan's Island and our favorite park. I decided we would make a quick trip into the store and look at all the things we couldn't afford, just staying as long as an eleven-month-old would tolerate. As we were walking back out to the car I couldn't find my keys, I looked through the window of the car and there they were, right next to Sadie's car seat, in my locked car.

I went back into the store and explained what had happened. The owner offered to let me use her phone to call a locksmith. I told her I couldn't afford a locksmith. To call my husband. He was in classes and I didn't have anyway to get a hold of him. She asked if there was anyone else I could call, but I didn't know anyone. By this time Sadie was upset and hungry and I was wishing for that swing at the park, the one that always put her right to sleep with the coastal breeze blowing. Instead I was in a charming open air barn, aisle after aisle of dressers and armoires limiting the flow of air on a hot fall day. The sweet owner offered to let me sit in her office to nurse Sadie and I happily accepted the air conditioned seat.

We sat there for the couple of hours that it took for Evan to get out of class and get the message I left on our home phone (cell phones were a luxury back then.) That night I promised myself I would make the nice lady a cake and take it to her the next day.

Evan had already left for classes the next morning when I got up and climbed back in bed with my sweet baby. She was happily nursing away and I was watching The Today Show. I can't remember the segment they interrupted to show live footage of a plane that had crashed into a building in New York. I turned up the volume and began to try and figure out what had happened. I watched, so confused about how something like this could happen. How could air traffic control let this happen?

But then another plane came and it crashed too. Right through the building, the World Trade Center. I was dumbfounded. I couldn't stop crying as more details came out. We sat in our little apartment glued to the news, when I had a feeling I should make a cake.

Make a cake? The world as we knew it was ending and I should make a cake?! But I remembered the kindness of the lady the day before and how determined I had been the night before and I found myself in the kitchen. I baked and listened to the news. Then I put Sadie and the cake in the car and drove through a virtual ghost town. Everywhere I looked stores were closed. There were no cars on the road and it was almost like the birds had even stopped, aware of the tragedy of the day.

I second guessed myself over and over on that short drive. Chances were no one would even be there; but I felt an uncontrollable need to feel normal and maybe even kind. I pulled into an empty parking lot and got out the cake and my baby, checking to make sure my keys were in hand. I walked into the store and found the owner. I stumbled over my words as she stared at me wide eyed, embarrassed that I had done something like baking in the face of such extreme devastation. Then she said something I would always remember, "You're an angel. Today is my son's birthday and the bakery where I ordered the cake is closed. Not one place has cakes today but now he will have a birthday cake. Thank you."

I've thought about that day a lot in the last ten years, as has the rest of the world. But the lesson I learned that day was one of inspired service. In the face of difficulty, tragedy, adversity, I have always found comfort in service.

C Ya

Its no secret that I love letters.

In second grade I came in second in a writing contest, it was Kindergarten through twelfth so I was pretty excited.
When I used to work for a graphic design firm I would help with copy and catch phrases. I like words.
I don't always have with them and sometimes they escape me, but there are simple little words that make me happy.
And letters, well they're the perfect combination of graphic and expressive.
Letters and words are all over my house.
But seriously, when you find a GIANT C (almost 26" tall) how can you pass it up.
I love this letter, but where do I hang a giant blue C?

Hold on Honey

Maisy has been sick, once again. She missed three days of school and suffered through a long weekend. This morning she seemed pretty good with only a bit of lingering dehydration (a side effect of antibiotics.) I got up in the dark and talked to her and she wanted to go to school, so we got dressed. I carried her on the bus with the rising sun and set her down to walk to her seat. But then she looked up at me with this sweet needy expression. It was an expression I haven't seen in a while; it is a look of she used to give me in the hospital and it has always said the same thing. "I'm going to be strong, Mom, because you're here and you believe in me. But I need you by my side." How can one expression say such words? How can one look between a mother and daughter convey a thought?

She held up her arms and I picked her back up. My heart wanted to take her back inside, but I whispered in her ear, "You'll be fine honey. If you want to come home just tell your teacher and I'll come get you." (Trust me that if she wants to come home the message will get through loud and clear.) I put her in her seat and buckled her in, fumbling over the same buckle I've done so many times.

Why is it so hard to let go? Why is it difficult to see them struggle, but mostly, why can't I just take it away? How does the momma bird watch her babies work against the eggshell without intervening? But then what is the alternative? Do I want that? Do I want them to never go to college, missions, get married, have families? I know the pain and pressure that can bring, do I hide them away from the joy too? I know the answer, but I also know that I just want to hold them a little longer, a little tighter some days. I hope they're okay with that, I hope its enough.

Update on Jack

A little over a week ago we called the Principal at the kids school and talked to him a little about Jack. He sat down with Jack and his teacher and then after school we visited with Jack and his teacher.

Apparently Jack is afraid of a couple of older boys that we go to church with as well as a boy he met once this summer. Lunch makes him especially nervous. He's afraid the boys will put him in a trash can and roll him around, and unfortunately this fear comes from experience. We talked to him about what he would like to do and he wants to stay in school (which makes me a little sad.) His teacher said he is doing great and is right on track with the other kids. We told her we intend to hold him back at some point and she suggested repeating kindergarten; which works well with our time frame. So, there you go a little update on Jack.