It's labor day:

And so we labored. My entire house has become the Land of Unfinished projects.
Everything got moved into the living room because we tore the carpet out of the dining room only to find that we can not replace it because the floor is so uneven. The solution to this problem is to tear up the sub floor (two layers of it) and sand down the floor joists until they are all even. This will probably get done sometime in the next century. Meanwhile, I now have a nasty particle board floor and a living room full of dining room.
On all of our treks to a million flooring store, in an effort to find an easier solution (we didn't), I noticed that our Discount Decorating Outlet Store was closing. FABRIC! For CHEAP! This floral and denim will be perfect for that new couch and loveseat.
And these are for Esther's room. The frog/floral is actually her sheet set from Target- but it goes so well with the curtain fabric that will get made sometime in the century after next.
And here is that dining room. Since it has no floor that needs to be protected, I used it for a painting studio. Those are those presswood bookshelves I got for free at a store closeout. Everyone kept telling me I was ridiculous for wanting them. But I have grand plans I tell you...Grand plans.
Part two of grand plan. paint Barbie pink? (The color was Esther's idea).

Galesburg had a storm.

Big enough to warrent calling out the big guys with big chainsaws. I went to help my mom feed 40 men who came in from all over our state to help clean up fallen trees. I gave Marcus my camera in an effort to keep him from being a nuisence.
This shot is pretty good.

So is this one. Maybe he is on to something.

This one was the most interesting of the bunch.

hmmm, maybe he should put this career on hold. I had no less than ten shots of shoes, car doors, fans, and celings.

And about twenty shots that looked like this.

And he filled my memory card up with over 50 that look like this. I could play "guess the body" for the rest of the evening.

Anyhow, it was a blessed time and Galesburg looks cleaner than it did when we arrived, but still a bit disgruntled and disheveled. My parent's church lost their steeple and the roof was damaged. Of course, Marcus didn't get a picture of that. wait....maybe that is what that white nothingness picture was.

New. To me.

I found a new living room set on the great Internet garage sale know as Craigslist. It is close to perfect for my family...well...that is if you disregard the hideous fabric. But, I can live with the fabric for the price I paid. The furniture comes from THIS END UP (which I will make clickable later) and has been my desired brand since I was 12 years old and my mom brought home her very first new piece of furniture. It was a dining table and chairs. Sturdy. Simple. And oh so very durable. I now have those tables and chairs, and carved somewhere on the bottom is my 12 year old signature. Now I have a family room set that matches. Sturdy. Simple. And oh so durable. As soon as I get a chance I am carving my name on the bottom of every piece.
After I make new cushion coverings it will fit our lifestyle perfectly.
I love having those clean rural lines. The soft wood with some other families history written all over every scratch and dent. Every wax dripping and crayon mark says that it was loved before and I love that about used furniture. The lady who sold it to me told me to sand those scratches out. She sounded like my mother who told me to sand out the dining room table scratches. I will listen to neither one. I like gouges. Like human flaws, it brings character. (yes, I am still making excuses for my bed spelling...)
Anyhow, it has a tone of storage and since we use the family room as a school room, that makes it extra wonderful.

As an aside: Those tall bookshelves will be painted and moved upstairs very soon. I have a secret plan for them that I hope to share very very soon.

I can't spell.

I am guessing, that if you have ever read a single thing that I have written- you already know that fact. I simply am very horrible at spelling. I pretty much stink at typing too.

Dustan was reading through my recent blog posts last night and commented on the seemingly hilarious errors. he asked me why I didn't proofread before publishing my post. I shamefacedly admitted that I DO proofread. It's just that I become disinterested in what I write after it is written. I hate proofreading and I easily skim over errors.

I blame this habit of mine on my mother. See, I was homeschooled. After grade three I never saw a spelling test and since I can type (badly) 45 words a minute with my hunt and peck method, I blew off the Mavis Beacon computer typing program my parents tried to force me to take. Mom was just too soft on me and so, I blame her. I happen to blame her for all those other rotten character flaws I have too. Wait...I blame a few of them on my dad. Basically, this is not my fault. it's someone else's and I don't want to change.

But I will. Last night I dreamed that I wrote the next Great American Novel but that it was turned down because the agent couldn't get past, "She climd over de hil and saw to her dimae dat the hors wus indied gon." Why I was writing a story about a horse, I will never know. I also remember that I was baffled by my lack of comma use. I always use commas. I am in love with commas. How could I have written a sentence without a comma? The agent was more concerned with the fact that it was unreadable. We argued over the importance of spelling and then I suddenly found my self swimming in the Arctic Ocean being chased by polkadotted sharks. I woke soon after I was bitten on my rear end.
Anyhow, I should learn to spell. And to proofread. And to type. And to not start sentences with a conjunction.
Maybe I will. Maybe I won't. Maybe I should hire someone to do it for me?

Love and Hate

This will be a post about my relationship with things. Not people. Not ideas. Not God. Just things. because face it. i love things. And I hate some things too.

Ten things I love:
1. Polka Dots
2. The color Green
3. My wooden Clogs
4. Pockets
5. Buttons
6. The sheets on my grandmother's guest bed.
7. Socks- but only when I have to wear shoes...and only if they are funky and goven to me by my children.
8. Books
9. Marcus' artwork
10. Open Shelves

Ten things I hate:
1. Hair products
2. Pastels
3. Lonaburger baskets
4. Geese
5. Birkenstocks (love the look hate the lack of comfort)
6. Jeans that cut into my waist
7. Math
8. Cookie Cutter Suberban Neighborhoods that cut down all the trees and cause the dissapearance of millions of acres of farmland. They also destroy the old historic homes just because they make the neighborhood look bad. Nothing makes me angrier than to see a bulldozer in a newly mown-down cornfield
9. Scratchy facrics
10. Mahogany

It must be Food Day in Blogland

As I travel through the realm of Blog, I am greeted with the delicious sights of oatmeal Cookies from Kim's Daisy Cottage. And then a little bit later I was practically assaulted with images of homemade pretzels at SplaneyoDo those golden things not look as if you could reach into your screen and gobble one (or four) down in a nano second?
I thought I better contribute.
NOT SO GOOD.
Really. We all had a bite and tossed it. Its an apple and cheese Fritatta and the eggs turned green and it tasted burnt, even though it most definately was not. Just yuck. It looks pretty though...
OH SO GOOD!
Yummy. Black bean burger topped with homemade guacamole and a side salad. THis is not diet food. This is goumet eating. My kids had peanut butter and bananna sandwhiches which by far made up for this morning's disaster.


I got hungry for a snack this afternoon and reached into the fridge for my strawberries, I couldn't find them anywhere and I turned around to see this:
Esther claims this little deed. Her mouth is stained red from her nose to her chin which verifies the confession. Her impish little smile did nothing to help the situation. "Dem trawbery gooooood, mama."

An Uncluttered Life

I'm back from a trip to the cabin. It was so joyful there. I have been trying to figure out why I am so much happier there than I am at home. Dustan once said that he never saw me happier than when I am camping. Why is that?
I still have to cook.
I still have to do laundry.
I still have to wash dishes.
I still have to separate my children from a billion squabbles.
I still have to hear "Mommy, I want..." over and over and over and over again.
Why are all these things fun when I am not at home.

It's because they are ALL I have to do. My life away from home is so uncluttered. There is time to breathe...and to live.
No telephone pulling me away from drawing in the dirt with a stick.
No email to answer, which frees me up to teach my kids how to play rodeo on pool noodle horses.
No appointements to scramble to. instead I can take a nap in the hammock and find diamond shaped impressions on my face.
No expectations which means no one will care if I count Lake water as a "good enough" bath for my kids.
No one to impress which means I can wear the same clothes twice and no one will care.

Somehow the big challenges of the day (figuring out how to get the foam rocket out of the top of a pine tree, or settling the argument about whose frog is whose, or deciding if we should go swimming or play in the mud) become so much more fun when there isn't other (more important) things competeing for my time. The same things that frustrate and bore me at home, are so appealing and relaxing when I am taken away from all that other time consuming, energy draining turmoil.

I know how to unclutter my house. Someone tell me how to unclutter my life.

Will be going

To a Place of Tranquility.
And memories both good and bad.
Dominated by the memory of Hannah. Gone now for a year an a half. Our love for her wafts through the air of this place and is what moves the needles of the pine trees in place of wind. Someone caughs and you know. They are fighting back the ache that just entered their hearts and tried to come up their throat in a sob. Every head that is bowed is thinking of her, every wistful farway look is remembering.

It still hurts. After all this time. It still hurts.

Someone Cut the Apron Strings

Yes, I know you think it's funny. It's not. Stop laughing. Guess who did it? Remember the old Family Circle Comic where the "Not Me" person was held responsible for all the family mistakes? It seems that "Not Me" has come to visit at my house.
Me: WHO CUT MY APRON STRINGS????
Weston: Not me.
Esther: Not me
Marcus: Not me
(I invison not me running around with scissors, gleefully cutting up my apron)
Me: WHO CUT MY APRON STRINGS
Esther points at Weston, Weston points at Esther, Marcus looks sympathetic towards both of them.
It is pretty easy to narrow down the suspects. It was Weston or Esther- most likely Esther. I have them both in their rooms until someone, anyone tells the truth.
Weston tried to get a reprieve. he comes downstairs and says, "Mommy, I want to tell you the truth." He hangs his head. "Esther cut the apron mommy."
Sigh.
I ask him him if he saw Esther cut the apron.
"No. but I didn't see myself do it either. So. It must be Esther."
Sigh.

Esther comes down.
"Mommy, I lied."
"About what."
"About saying no."
"You cut my apron."
"yes. I mean no."
Sigh

The mystery of the cut apron strings remains unsolved, and it is my guess it will remain unsolved for all eternity.

It's still summer

In August my mind mentally slips into "Fall Mode". The weather outside is SCREAMING at me that It's still Summer. With the heat index at well over a hundred degrees, the kids and I trooped off for a TeenMOPS Pool Party.

The water was devine. Boy did it ever make me want an inground pool to lounge in these awful midwest summer days. My kids are swimming like fish now, which is a wonderful far cry from the beginning of the summer when they wouldn't even put their heads in the water. I really think children's brains are wired like light switches. Somehow, someone just has to switch those buggers on, and insto pretso, aha, there is light. Someone switched their swimming lights on, and away they go...
Here's a precious shot of one of our little babies. Her name is Porshe and her mom is a sweet 15 year old girl who is desperately trying to learn mommyhood. Everytime I am with these girls, I am inspired to be better. One of the girls does the hokey pokey with her baby every time she dresses him. "Put your right armin, put your left arm in, Put your arms in, and shake them all about." So tender and sweet. Her baby will know his right from left by toddlerhood.

Anyhow, I know I rambled a bit. Go forth and enjoy the rest of your summer. And if you are in St Louis...Stay in and enjoy your air conditioning.

Hi. My name is Becka. And I'm fat.

I'm not saying this for attention, or a chance to have 100 people tell me I am not fat. The fact is, I am obese, and becoming more so. I had a scare while visiting a frined in the hospital. Her roommate was ill with leg ulcers caused by diabetes. My dr had already told me that was the road I was headed down, but nothing quite got me off my rear like seeing that woman in the hospital. I have lots and lots, and even more excuses on why I am the size I am. I'm not going to make them- this time, I am just going to do something about it.
I joined weight watchers. Tuesday was my first meeting and I think, it was, perhaps, the most embarrassing day of my life. And now, I am putting all my shame out for all of blogland to see. I do this, because I am hoping to have some blog friends join me. I am hoping that I will not be the only one who is struggling. As I find recipes and foods that I love, I will post them. The "diet" I am on is called "Core". I can have all I need of anything from an approved list of foods. Bread is not on this list. Wahhh, neither is sugar. But fruits and veggies are. So are whole grains, and many meats. There is a great deal of food from every single food group and I can eat as much as I need to feel full without having to worry about counting anything. This works out perfect for me because I hate counting. I also happen to be a stickler for following rules (as long as they make sense to me).
To start off my confession week, here was my lunch today. Don't try to tell me this is a diet. This is gourmet stuff and it was beyond delish. I was full after this serving, but if I had still been hungry, I could have had another helping.Strawberry Spinach Salad with canadian bacon, soy cheese, black olives, and fat free vinagrette dressing. I was quite sceptical about this, as was Marcus who saw me take the first bite. 'that looks disgusting mom" (when did he stop say bugusting?) he said. I chewed. He watched. "Is it good?" he asked. 'ummhmm, pretty good." I replied. "Want a bite?" One great thing about my kids is that they will try almost anything. He fisnishes the only bite I am willing to share with him. He decrees that: "It's pretty good." Then he inform me that he has discovered a TRIPLE Homophone- "You, Ewe, U" all with vinagrette dripping down his chin.
One day I will be healthy. If I miss his wedding, or the birth of his child, it won't be because I died of fatness.

2+8, 5+5, 6+4, 7+3

Equals Ten. Ten incredible years married to my best friend. I could not have asked for a better ten years. In celebration, here is ten things I adore about Dustan.
1. He prays. Everyday. For me. Every prayer he says is like a sweet gift to me.
2. He hungers and thirts after God's word. He can so easily get lost in searching for Biblical knowlege. It inspires me to do the same.
3. He does dishes. And laundry. And vacuuming. And mowing.
4. He wants to be with me. He really likes me and would rather be with me than out with the guys.
5. He tolertates, with a great deal of patience, my many mood swings.
6. He reads to my children
7. He gives an incredible back rub.
8. He stopped wearing black socks with white shoes- just for me.
9. He is so good with money and because of that, our family has never been in need, or even in want.
10. (I think I will just leave this one unspoken)
We met in July of 1996. At church. We needed something to write our phone numbers on and grabbed these from the pews. I kept mine and Dustan kept his even though we didn't go on our first date until October. If you look closely, you will see that Dustan used his as a bit of a relationship journal. I am telling you...This man is a gift from God.

We are winning the chore battle

My children are happily cleaning today. I am guessing that you are wanting to know my secret, so I will tell you.
It's CHORE WARS This is a super fun way to get your kids (and even your husband) to help out with the housework. You create adventures (chores) and when someone completes an adventure, they log on, claim the adventure, possibly fight a monster, and claim their gold. I plan to pay my kids one penny for every gold piece the earn. The admin can set the number of gold pieces earned for each adventure. They also earn experience points and at the end of the month, whoever has the most experience points will win a prize!!! My kids are begging to do the chores.

It's free, you have nothing to lose, so go there, try it out, and then come back and say thank you for the best thing that has ever happened to you!

Oh, My sister's family joined my party and we are competing against her. So far we are winning by a long shot. they must be lazy over there- haha.

Bad thinking

My children haven't had nightmares for a long time, so I think I was due for some nighttime disturbances.

I heard Weston upstairs whimpering and went to see what was wrong. He was standing at the top of the stairs, with a very concerned look on his face. When I asked him what was wrong, this is what he said...

"I had a bad thinking. I was thinking and it was very bad."
"What was your bad thinking about, Weston?"
"I was thinking about what would happen if you put a mouse in the toilet and then when I went potty late at night, the mouse would try to bite my butt and I would try to get away, but it would chase me."

Either, he has some very disturbed going-to-sleep-thoughts, or he has some VERY creative methods of avoiding sleep altogether.

Sorry about the technical issues we had yesterday.

Speaking of technical difficulties...it seems that Weston has one. We have spent a flurried week at the dentist, doctor, and eye doctor's offices. Three kids times three appointments. Waiting rooms, paperwork, and huge bills later we find out that we have relativly healthy kids and that Wston has flat feet and most likely also has something called "Myasthenia Gravis". We had heard this term before, when he was just a few weeks old but had thought it had been ruled out. When we first did our internet search on MG just 5 years ago, the news was grim. After re-researching it this go-round, I wonder if I had somehow been researching the wrong thing all those years ago. Nothing is the same. The dire predictions that had brought us to tears- the thought of breathing tubes, and feeding tobes, and early death....they are no longer there. Now it is replaced with this sentance: Although once a severe and often fatal illness, myasthenia gravis can now be well managed with several relatively safe and effective therapies.
I had a really bad day yesterday and threw myself a good ol pity party, sans cake and icecream (which was really stupid. According to my children, no party should EVER be without cake and ice cream). Then I realized that I should be shouting for joy for two reasons...
1. My child is not going to die from this disease.
2. He will never be able to be drafted into the military.

I am unsure as to what the future holds in regards to this. Our next step is to see a nurologist and we will go from there.

Those eyes are what is causing all the hullabaloo. I wish I could explain in layman's terms what it all means, but scientific medical information reads like this to me: "blah blah blah blah gobbldeegook" If you are interested, here is a site that explains it a bit more.
Myasthenia Gravis

Rice: Good for Gratitude

I left my camera at a friend's house (after a tea party) and since I hate blogging without pictures, here is one of my three children, right after Esther's birth. This is before they became spoiled brats. Did I just call my children brats? Why yes. Yes I did. See how sweet they are here? Little Esther was content to nurse her days away and Marcus thought we were heroes just for sharing our french fries. Weston was always a bit of a whiner, but lately, oh my! Lately it has snowballed into something very unpretty.

If I give them a cookie, Weston will cry, and call me a liar, because he will say that I did, in fact, promise him ten cookies. Which is completely untrue. Esther will cry because her cookie only has three billion chocolate chips and she wanted fifteen gazillion chocolate chips. Marcus will pout because...well, actually, I have no idea why Marcus will pout. He has been in a constant state of poutiness lately.

If I fix their favorite dinner of grilled cheese sandwiches with granny smith apples, mayo, and green olives (don't mock it, they LOVE it), Weston will complain that his has a brown spot on it, Marcus will cry because I only had enough to give him four full sandwiches, and Esther will suddenly decide she hates bread.

If I take them to the park, they will throw a fit because I ask them to put on their shoes, because we have to walk, and because I didn't know they wanted to go to THAT OTHER PARK.

If I take them swimming, the sun will be to hot, or they will be too cold, or we will stay too long, or we will not stay long enough.

If I bake them a surprise cake, someone will cry because they wanted lemon, not chocolate.

And on and on and on to kingdom come. Do I sound as if I am complaining? My dears, I don't know any other tone of voice. I have been surrounded by whining and complaining for so long, I have forgotten how to converse any other way.

BUT. But, I found a solution. It hit me one night just like a lighbulb turning on and illuminating the deep recesses of the parenting brain I had shut off. We were in the van listening to Weston and Esther whine because we were not going to the restaraunt THEY wanted to go to (which happened to be two different ones). Marcus did not whine. Rather, he gave this deep sigh and rolled his eyes. the sigh ended with a deep disgusted grunt.
Something inside of me snapped. I am not sure when the last time I have heard my children say thank you, but I can gaurantee you it was so long ago that we might as well consider that they never said it. I told them, "you have this weekend to learn gratitude because by Monday, if you haven't learned it, I am going to start feeding you rice with every meal. I am going to feed it to you until you will bow down in gratitude to just see a boiled egg.
Let me just say that their response was... Well, I don't know how to describe it. Bad. We are talking screaming. And kicking. More screaming. Calling us names. Remember now, that I have only threatened this course of action. I look at Dustan, he looks at me. The looks says, "What did we do wrong? How did we raise these monsters?"

And so we went home. We did not go to any restaraunt at all. We had rice. No one said thank you. So we had rice at dinner. Weston gave me a very feeble "Thank you for the rice, mommy." By breakfast, Marcus, who can't stand rice at all, and who has now missed two meals, tells me that he "will be grateful for whatever I feed him." I say, "Good, cause we are having shoes." Marcus says, "Thank you for the shoes mommy."
I feed them all their favorite cereal. I recieve three hearty thank yous and some help in cleaning the kitchen. These children do NOT want another meal of rice.

But I have the container sitting in the middle of the counter- just in case. I think the visual reminder will be enough.

My day today is insanely busy

Here's a picture of the cousins while on our camping trip. We spent the morning wading in a creek and the kids loved it. Weston is missing from this photo because he was back in the cabin with Elly, throwing up. Poor kids.

Some really long thoughts for today: (I will come back and proofread later- I am just too busy right now)
The house is a mess, we have swim lessons, a tea party, and church...not to mention we need to fit some time in there for school and spanish lessons. Sometimes I feel like my life is spiraling out of control. I just want it to slow way down. Sometimes I get caught up in the chaos of a moment and forget who I am. This morning, a couple of blog posts reminded me to be still, to remember Who I belong to. They reminded me to take time to count my blessings and that my character is far more important than my label of mother.
Read this one.
And this one by a mother struggling with brain cancer

When I grow up, I want to be kind, gentle, creative, respectful, truthful, and friendly.

My blessings:
1. I am a child of God. His forgiveness for my rottoness outweighs any other blessing I could name.
2. I happened to have married the best and greatest man on earth. God saw fit to save him for me. He does dishes, he helps with the children, he provides me with a home and lifestyle I could never have imagined when I was a kid. remeber that sily game where we listed the cars we wanted, the places we wanted to live, our occupations, and the boys we wanted to marry? then we did some kind of silly counting method to cross them off one by one until the last ones left would be our future? I was supposed to have a Z-28, marry Micheal tucker, live in France as a famous author. I am glad God designed my future and not me or some random game.
3. I have two of the dearest friends on the planet. I spent yesterday complaining that the ladies at the pool ignored me and that I was being shunned when I tried to have small talk sessions with them. Who needs them when I have two best friends who are there in a instant when I need them, who love me despite all my flaws, and who inspire me to be a better person.
4. My sister. I can't type more or I will cry.
5. My mom and dad who taught me to love God, to see life as an adventure, and to adore learning. They love me unconditionally.
6. All of my grandparents are still living. And they all love God. I don't get to see them very often, but their heritage of faith surrounds me everyday. Who I am is so much a part of who they are. Not many people can gorw to adulthood still basking in the love of grandparents, but I can.
7. My brats. Ahem, okay, my children. Today they are driving me up a wall. But still. They are blessings. Weston has renewed his dream of becoming a hairdresser and thankfully practices on Esther's hair sans scissors. She looks so pretty today because he made her hair shiny and smooth. A few weeks ago he decided to follow Christ. Now I am choked up all over again. Two of my children know the Lord as their Savior.
8. I am alive. My health is good.
9. I am fat. Which means I am not hungry.
10. The plants I planted a few weeks ago are still alive. It's a miracle.

Two posts for the Price of one.

Which happens to be free!




My friend Danielle> is one of the most talented people on the planet. I envy her. She is not, however, selfish with her talent, and shares it freely. This generosity of hers astounds me. Without spending a lot of money, she imparts beautiful gifts to people. Want one? Look over to her left column and click on embroidery tutorial. Let her teach you a new skill. You wouldn't believe how much pure talent this woman has in her pinky finger, and lucky for us, she wants to give it away. For free. Take advantage of it.
My birds are from her tutorial and would have been done except that my my sister told me they had vacant eyes. Maybe I should add a little knotty thing.

The sheep I am making for my mother. I found the little coloring page somewhere online and knew my mother had to have them. She has a bit of an obsession with sheep. I think I will use it as a panel in a little quilted pillow and give it to her for Christmas.

Okay, so I am not dead.

I made it back from Ecuador and didn't even come home before attending an out of state wedding and the a family camping trip at Long's Retreat. My sister and her crew, as well as my mom and dad were there. Long's retreat is an awesomely fun place. Or it would have been if we had not caught the stomach flu that landed three of the kids in the ER. We stopped counting the vomiting episodes somehwere after 60. Trust me. It was horrible.
I came home to start VBS three days later and then my bestest friend Tara's baby who I had knly just met (she was born when I was in Ecuador) went into the hospital with some kind of horrible infection and I added Tara's other three tykes to my crew. We are at 6 kids now. My sister also came down to visit and she brought her 4. Thankfully we only overlapped one day. It was utter choas at my house for the past two months. Chaos, I tell you. I really need a vacation. Not kidding.

So, in case you are wondering if life has slowed down since my sister has gone back to New York, and everyone is well, and I am done traveling...you would be wrong
Click on this picture:

DITL

A bunch of my online friends have been doing a photo journaling project that follows them for a day. Here is mine. Enjoy. then come babysit for me so I can take a nap.

I'm leaving on jet plane...

Don't know when I'll be again...

Actually, I will be back sometime in June. Meanwhile, my blog will be a lonely place, full of echos. A full month. Gone from my home for a month. It seems a little eerie to me.

I leave today, and work my way to Chicago for a flight out of O'Hare on Tuesday. From there I fly to Guayaquil, Ecuador. Twelve hours on a plane. 10 hours on a bus to arrive at the city of Loja where I will help my missionary sister-in-law move to a more remote location. She will be working with children there and for two weeks I will be helping her.

after I fly back, I have a family reunion/camping trip/wedding to attend. Of course, it involves an eight hour car ride. yehaw!

So, while I am traveling the world and seeing beautiful places, you will be thinking of me...right? Keep me in your prayers and when I return, I will surely be full of stories to post about.

My mind is full of Spring...

All things bright and beautiful,
All creatures great and small.
All things wise and wonderful: The Lord God made them all.
Each little Flower that opens,
Each Little bird that sings,
God made their glowing colors, and made their tiny wings.
God gave us eyes to see them,
and lips that we might tell,
How great is God Almighty,
Who has made all things well.

All of the pictures were taken in my own yard, with the exception of the geese. I am rather glad that I don't have geese famiies in my yard. besides being rather mean spirited, they leave quite a mess behind them. The rabbits are leaving enough of a mess, and I won't even talk about what the moles have done. I love glancing out my window though and seeing litte bunnies, baby groundhogs, and even wee little turtles. I love walking around the corner of the house to find a rose bush that I have never even touched, suddenly in bloom. It takes no effort on my part, and I am humbled yet again at the display the Creator makes for us every single Spring.

Finished. Completed. Done.

Stick a fork in me and it will come out clean. I leave my home on Friday, not to return for four weeks. My sewing is done done done!
I made this set for another swap. I made two. One for Esther and one for a little girl somewhere in Kansas.
And all the wedding skirts...THey really turned out very sweetly.

For my spunky little Ellie monster. This combo just screams for a bit of twirling and a bit of making mudpies.

For sweet little Karist, who will wear this proudly while pounding a toy into her brother's head.

Haha, you can see my toes!

I love the details in this. I used a store bought shirt and dolled it up for my princess. She loves it!

I am feeling Random

I like things that are random. Here are some random pictures, I just closed my eyes, scrolled the mouse, and clicked. Utterly and totally random. I'll have to come back and edit to let you even know what they are. Oh, and if there happens to be any nudity, I will need to edit that out too. What? You don't have nude pictures on YOUR computer? Wow. This is the Mystery Rash. It tooks two hospitals and two doctors to conclude that it was harmleass. It took one panicky nurse on the internet to convince me that it was a symtom of a horrible illness that could kill my son. You should have seen his feet. He looked like he had been dipped in acid. Weird stuff.

A skirt I made for my friend Gwen

Ahhh, sweet little Weston. he was 3 in this picture. Five now. I want to smoosh his little baby self with kisses. The best thing about Weston is that he has kept that babiness. You can't help but snuggle with his little cute self.

hmmm....not sure what the deal was with this pic. Maybe I was selling this jacket at one time.


Random thoughts: I will be in Ecuador this time in two weeks. My house is noisy because the rotorooter man is grinding away at the tree roots that are eating my pipes. The kids played in the rain. My house is hot. And humid. I miss my sister. We are having chicken Ala King for lunch. We had strawberries for snacks. My dog bit a little boy. My dog hates people on bikes. My mother in law wants me to throw away all my art work. I guess she thinks it is not worth enough to try to have it sanitized. My brain is broke. I think the fact that my mother in law thinks my art is worthless means that she thinks I am worthless. I never get any good mail. Will you send me any mail? My kids are loud. They are also very wet. I am a wee bit depressed. I am also an underexaggerator. I am also an exaggerator. I haven't been able to do laundry for three days. It will take me three weeks to catch up. I want to go to bed to sleep. I like rain. I like it better when it comes with thunder. I miss my mommy. I do;t have much to say today.

okay. That is unreadble, but it felt good. And. It's my blog, which means I can do anything I want. (including, turning the word "And" into a sentence.