tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1925988269792568612024-03-13T15:06:24.878-07:00Welcome To Keith BlogsAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09022694079560582497noreply@blogger.comBlogger1500125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192598826979256861.post-10705460844722677892015-01-01T10:02:00.000-08:002015-01-02T20:51:21.854-08:002015 Theme<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dzDdHiynx1A/VKWKYs2LTZI/AAAAAAAAYyw/y2QObNIyGn8/s1600/image1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dzDdHiynx1A/VKWKYs2LTZI/AAAAAAAAYyw/y2QObNIyGn8/s1600/image1.JPG" /></a></div><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">What is this year's theme? HAWK</span><br /><br /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">The ability to see your life in perspective, to free you of unnecessary "baggage" and connect you to your ancestral roots...</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Once you know where you have come from and where you are going, your life will be filled with inspiration and enthusiasm, you will sense a new day dawning, and you will be able to make decisions with confidence.</span><br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">How do I get there? EAGLE, drawn reversed</span><br /><br /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">You may need to guard against the dangers of an overpowering intellect. The eagle, when it knows how to renew itself in the secret lake, is able to balance its masculine fiery qualities with the feminine, water qualities of the lake. But when it cannot find the secret lake, when we deny our minds access to the heart, our lives can become dry and sterile, our intellects harsh and overly analytical. Now may be the time to see whether your mind and your heart are in balance. </span><br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Where should I start? CRANE, drawn reversed</span><br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span><br /><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13px;">The crane stands alone for hours on end, simply observing and patiently waiting. But it's also able to join its colleagues to fly in formation or to dance together. You may need to learn the right balance between being alone and working with others. Spending too much time alone can create feelings of isolation and separation. Conversely, having no time to oneself can be an avoidance of self-knowledge and the uncomfortable feelings of loneliness. Spend a while looking at your life to see whether you give yourself enough time to have both these experiences. </span></span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09022694079560582497noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192598826979256861.post-31049902880813044852014-12-31T08:55:00.000-08:002015-01-02T20:57:37.200-08:00the brightest lightest one ever ...<div style="text-align: center;">oh i do love a shiny new year,</div><div style="text-align: center;">tis my fabby fav thing of all without a doubt.</div><div style="text-align: center;">more than birthdays, more than christmases.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yz4ykR-RYSw/VKQpO4-7eqI/AAAAAAAAGuk/sQnWEcHJGsE/s1600/ppp%2B-%2BCopy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yz4ykR-RYSw/VKQpO4-7eqI/AAAAAAAAGuk/sQnWEcHJGsE/s1600/ppp%2B-%2BCopy.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">this shiny new year will be all about</div><div style="text-align: center;">living in the moment of here and now.</div><div style="text-align: center;">letting the past go</div><div style="text-align: center;">trusting the future will take care of its self</div><div style="text-align: center;">and seeing the extra ordinary in the ordinary.</div><div style="text-align: center;">each and every day</div><div style="text-align: center;">right wherever my little feet happen to be planted.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">i will not be making a list of resolutions</div><div style="text-align: center;">for the coming shiny new year.</div><div style="text-align: center;">rather i will be making a list of words.</div><div style="text-align: center;">daily reminders of being present in the moment</div><div style="text-align: center;">rather than drifting backwards or looking too far forwards.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">hippity happy shiny new year to you dearest readers,</div><div style="text-align: center;">here's to it being the brightest, lightest one ever</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">x</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09022694079560582497noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192598826979256861.post-18668584079506900552014-12-25T15:32:00.000-08:002015-01-02T20:45:53.319-08:00The Queen's Christmas Message<div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="258" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/Y2whLW5F5mY" width="405"></iframe></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09022694079560582497noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192598826979256861.post-48973892731491279252014-12-24T10:52:00.000-08:002015-01-02T20:57:37.214-08:00may your days be ...<div style="text-align: center;">merry & bright</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qNENXfdiJ4I/VJsLMUG9LZI/AAAAAAAAGuU/YJHnzIgcG_U/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qNENXfdiJ4I/VJsLMUG9LZI/AAAAAAAAGuU/YJHnzIgcG_U/s1600/photo.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">joyful & light</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">merry christmas dearies!!!</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09022694079560582497noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192598826979256861.post-2406496331934877992014-12-19T11:38:00.000-08:002015-01-02T20:57:37.226-08:00joyful thriftstore update ...<div style="text-align: center;">on weds, Our #4 had an interview for a job at the new thriftstore opening up in the town next door. this is tres exciting and even more so to arrive home and find a message saying could he come back on monday for a second interview! he is thinking he may be a shelf stacker, i am thinking he may be tres good at that, what with being 6' 2". both him and myself are a little giddy about the thought of him having a job at a thrift store. </div><div style="text-align: center;">all fingers, toes, paws and claws are crossed here in mossy shed.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">on saturday a most magnificent couch found me, it found me when i was least expecting it and truth be told, as i am <a href="http://dottieangel.blogspot.com/2014/11/tidying-up.html" target="_blank">magically tidying up forever</a> and ever it was most inconvenient that she should catch my eye and tug at my heart. upon close inspection with my adopted auntie, her man, Our #4 and my reluctant man it was all agreed a couch such as this is a rare find indeedy!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RR0UcrVHFl0/VJR8rdL6bdI/AAAAAAAAGt8/kHbnJvNg1Sc/s1600/jj.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RR0UcrVHFl0/VJR8rdL6bdI/AAAAAAAAGt8/kHbnJvNg1Sc/s1600/jj.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">twenty four hours later and a lot of convincing on my behalf, the most magnificent couch was loaded into the back of the car, strapped in for safety to lessen the worry of her ending up on the side of the freeway, she came home to mossy shed. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">my first intentions were for her to live outdoors under the overhang, waiting for warmer weather, and little green friends to start keeping her company. i was smitten by her wood sides, fabby fabric and could see the potential if i dared to start to mess around with her skirts. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-P50_-3bTsHE/VJR8qRr-D2I/AAAAAAAAGt0/tSB_NzN5dHs/s1600/j.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-P50_-3bTsHE/VJR8qRr-D2I/AAAAAAAAGt0/tSB_NzN5dHs/s1600/j.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">after one night outside i began to fret for my newly found friend, for damp and cold can play havoc with our health and that of furniture left out back round here. upon arrival home from work the next day, i told my man i felt it would be a wrong doing to leave her out there, my man agreed it would and so in she came from the cold.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-78X-0N7BAko/VJR8oNdmHOI/AAAAAAAAGtk/lcbbGrbDvL0/s1600/xxxx.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-78X-0N7BAko/VJR8oNdmHOI/AAAAAAAAGtk/lcbbGrbDvL0/s1600/xxxx.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">fortunately my <a href="http://dottieangel.blogspot.com/2014/11/tidying-up.html" target="_blank">magical tidying up</a> has left many gaps in our shed, but on the other hand, the whole point of my magical tidying up was to make gaps and to breath and not fill those lovely empty gaps up again. i must confess i was a little fretful my 'new~to~me, old~to~another' couch would cause me to feel overwhelmed as she filled in a rather large gap in my atelier of sorts, </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">but my fretting ways were soon cast aside when she sat there resplendent in her little corner. i asked "do you bring me joy?" as per my magical tidying up book, my couch sung out loud and clear "i do oh yes i do"</div><div style="text-align: center;">i covered her seat cushions in one of two beautiful lace bed throws i also found on saturday's thrift store pottle, i wonder if they came from the same donator, for both appear to be quite at home together as though they are old friends</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PTNHh6KghXI/VJR8oBtgIGI/AAAAAAAAGtg/3VEBAm0E5oA/s1600/xxxxxx.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PTNHh6KghXI/VJR8oBtgIGI/AAAAAAAAGtg/3VEBAm0E5oA/s1600/xxxxxx.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YKOgsQ6AZ-k/VJR8nkWy4iI/AAAAAAAAGtc/5vGr4xalW78/s1600/xxx.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YKOgsQ6AZ-k/VJR8nkWy4iI/AAAAAAAAGtc/5vGr4xalW78/s1600/xxx.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bopZwOfh_uI/VJR8rDm5eBI/AAAAAAAAGuA/00nViOBTOck/s1600/jjj.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bopZwOfh_uI/VJR8rDm5eBI/AAAAAAAAGuA/00nViOBTOck/s1600/jjj.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">and as i stepped back, pondering her skirts, i felt nothing but joy to see her there,</div><div style="text-align: center;">waiting patiently for a moment in this busy week for me to sit with a cup of mint tea and continue upon my path of enlightenment, this time with <a href="http://www.louisehay.com/" target="_blank">Louise Hay</a>. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MedPtDZD4kM/VJR8kLCg2UI/AAAAAAAAGtU/1OqT78RCV8g/s1600/x.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MedPtDZD4kM/VJR8kLCg2UI/AAAAAAAAGtU/1OqT78RCV8g/s1600/x.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09022694079560582497noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192598826979256861.post-85040405952015021772014-12-15T10:44:00.000-08:002015-01-02T20:57:37.239-08:00wise little piggies ...<div style="text-align: center;">last christmas,</div><div style="text-align: center;"> Mister Muchly went to see Santa.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-32jxRuQcY60/VI8ql2nvzBI/AAAAAAAAGtA/lz3Wc45SiTc/s1600/c.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-32jxRuQcY60/VI8ql2nvzBI/AAAAAAAAGtA/lz3Wc45SiTc/s1600/c.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">he asked Santa for a friend</div><div style="text-align: center;">it took a little while for Santa to work his magic</div><div style="text-align: center;">but in Spring a friend was found</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">this christmas,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Mister Muchly suggested to his trusty sidekick</div><div style="text-align: center;">Twiglet Piglet,</div><div style="text-align: center;">she might like to go and see Santa </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yeQGmfG-wBI/VI8ql4VuweI/AAAAAAAAGs4/mHqS164kD08/s1600/ccc.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yeQGmfG-wBI/VI8ql4VuweI/AAAAAAAAGs4/mHqS164kD08/s1600/ccc.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(waiting patiently for the car ride into town)</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;">and so they did.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">however neither Mister Muchly</div><div style="text-align: center;">nor Twiglet Piglet </div><div style="text-align: center;">were fooled by this year's Santa</div><div style="text-align: center;">pointing out he did not look</div><div style="text-align: center;">old enough to drive a sleigh.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Mister Muchly was so not convinced</div><div style="text-align: center;">he tried on several occasions</div><div style="text-align: center;">to remove his beard</div><div style="text-align: center;">before being tackled into a safe grip by 'Santa'</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bR97kxwCP-Q/VI8qlgLegMI/AAAAAAAAGs0/fDXWJXEFRCc/s1600/cc.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bR97kxwCP-Q/VI8qlgLegMI/AAAAAAAAGs0/fDXWJXEFRCc/s1600/cc.JPG" height="636" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">upon perusal of the photo,</div><div style="text-align: center;">i am thinking they are quite wise little piggies</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09022694079560582497noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192598826979256861.post-12648465437244764102014-12-12T12:16:00.000-08:002015-01-02T20:57:37.252-08:00the kindest thing i did for myself this week ...<div style="text-align: center;"> was finish reading</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Gifts-Imperfection-Think-Supposed-Embrace/dp/159285849X/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1418415001&sr=1-1&keywords=the+gifts+of+imperfection" target="_blank">The Gifts of Imperfections</a></div><div style="text-align: center;">by <a href="http://brenebrown.com/" target="_blank">Brene Brown</a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kFFTo8qdGAY/VItLBCA5QlI/AAAAAAAAGsM/nZiAUuOvBU8/s1600/vvvv.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kFFTo8qdGAY/VItLBCA5QlI/AAAAAAAAGsM/nZiAUuOvBU8/s1600/vvvv.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">if perchance you too are on the path to self awareness</div><div style="text-align: center;">or maybe you are right at the start </div><div style="text-align: center;">not quite knowing which way to turn</div><div style="text-align: center;">i do not think you could go wrong</div><div style="text-align: center;">with picking <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Gifts-Imperfection-Think-Supposed-Embrace/dp/159285849X/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1418415001&sr=1-1&keywords=the+gifts+of+imperfection" target="_blank">this book</a> up </div><div style="text-align: center;">and starting right at the beginning.</div><div style="text-align: center;">when i read books such as these</div><div style="text-align: center;">i always start at the very beginning,</div><div style="text-align: center;">never jumping in at random pages</div><div style="text-align: center;">for i believe each chapter builds on the previous one</div><div style="text-align: center;">and quite often, </div><div style="text-align: center;">actually more than often</div><div style="text-align: center;">i have to pause for thought,</div><div style="text-align: center;">reread and then continue.</div><div style="text-align: center;">and more often than not</div><div style="text-align: center;">i get to the end</div><div style="text-align: center;">and know i will need to reread the whole thing</div><div style="text-align: center;">just to clarify i read what was there</div><div style="text-align: center;">and not what i thought was there.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zlDBtv2XhD0/VItLCXcfhXI/AAAAAAAAGsk/KUN4sXsgii8/s1600/vvvvv.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zlDBtv2XhD0/VItLCXcfhXI/AAAAAAAAGsk/KUN4sXsgii8/s1600/vvvvv.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">the back of our loo door is full of wise words</div><div style="text-align: center;">i have gleamed from books </div><div style="text-align: center;">over the past three years.</div><div style="text-align: center;">however the daily reminder</div><div style="text-align: center;">i gleamed from Brene Brown's book</div><div style="text-align: center;">will not be on the back of the door</div><div style="text-align: center;">but on the kitchen wall</div><div style="text-align: center;">to remind me each and every day</div><div style="text-align: center;">how far i have come,</div><div style="text-align: center;">of where i am now</div><div style="text-align: center;">and how muchly further i have to go </div><div style="text-align: center;">in this enlightening, </div><div style="text-align: center;">tricky dicky at times, </div><div style="text-align: center;">journey of mine</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S1FkrVbHZHQ/VItLBahT6eI/AAAAAAAAGsQ/pJPFEOpPoyc/s1600/vv.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S1FkrVbHZHQ/VItLBahT6eI/AAAAAAAAGsQ/pJPFEOpPoyc/s1600/vv.JPG" height="636" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">i said this was the kindest thing i had done for myself this week</div><div style="text-align: center;">it was a fib,</div><div style="text-align: center;">it turns out to be the kindest thing i have done for myself all year.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4AI00rLO8m8/VItLBIGqztI/AAAAAAAAGsU/bzoJO9l6CPM/s1600/v.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4AI00rLO8m8/VItLBIGqztI/AAAAAAAAGsU/bzoJO9l6CPM/s1600/v.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09022694079560582497noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192598826979256861.post-48926769960979507702014-12-11T11:09:00.000-08:002015-01-02T20:57:37.268-08:00rebellious ways ...<div style="text-align: center;"> yesterday i made some easy peasy envelope cushion covers </div><div style="text-align: center;">for our granny couch,</div><div style="text-align: center;">out of an old sanderson slipcover </div><div style="text-align: center;">i made donkey's years ago.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rAE1eP0gzWg/VInpxUYt3CI/AAAAAAAAGrw/2W-bLc5SqNI/s1600/b.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rAE1eP0gzWg/VInpxUYt3CI/AAAAAAAAGrw/2W-bLc5SqNI/s1600/b.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">i was not supposed to be doing such a thing</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-I7KPMQGkkwg/VInpxYQUsXI/AAAAAAAAGr0/M38PxosVyVg/s1600/bb.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-I7KPMQGkkwg/VInpxYQUsXI/AAAAAAAAGr0/M38PxosVyVg/s1600/bb.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">but i did it anyway</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DVQjgPeXsD0/VInpxL8SUYI/AAAAAAAAGrs/35pq5lexwds/s1600/bbb.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DVQjgPeXsD0/VInpxL8SUYI/AAAAAAAAGrs/35pq5lexwds/s1600/bbb.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">sometimes i marvel at my rebellious ways</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09022694079560582497noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192598826979256861.post-76603602856587255052014-12-08T12:35:00.000-08:002015-01-02T20:57:37.289-08:00pondering paint ...<div style="text-align: center;">tis all quiet again in the shed, not that my folks are particularly rowdy sort of folks, just that there are not as many bods around. i am spending the next few days wisely inbetween must~dos like working at the yarn shop, cleaning, laundry, cooking and christmas gifts finding, with thoughts of paint. not just any old paint but chalk paint (ummm, Tif, didn't you dabble in that before and it nearly drove you to the funny farm?) and not just any old chalk paint colour, but graphite.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-W5vvGPgochs/VIYJmIr85fI/AAAAAAAAGrM/D8TrkakQIY0/s1600/n.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-W5vvGPgochs/VIYJmIr85fI/AAAAAAAAGrM/D8TrkakQIY0/s1600/n.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">my mother brought along with her a few copies of english magazines as she knows how much i enjoy a good old ganders at homes from my homeland. well one little article stopped me in my page turning tracks and it was an article about Annie Sloan and her latest book on chalk painting your nest and the world around you and there was one picture of a wall painted in graphite which made my heart skip and my cogs start to turn.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">so last week on one of our pottles together, me and my folks located a can of graphite chalk paint and now my shed is empty for two weeks i am looking around for some willing victims. one willing victim will be our kitchen window frame. i think i have found another one, tis a huge old vintage framed piece of art and then there is the victim who had no choice, willing or not, i wanted to see what the paint was like. so yesterday, the day i spent all day in my pajamas, in between doing gleeful joyful tree trimming and the likes, i painted my drawer shelf on the wall to see what would be.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">well, tis most graphite and dark and tis most chalk like. </div><div style="text-align: center;">as one would expect if one paints something with graphite chalk paint.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ispXwIBKSYc/VIYJmY9K_PI/AAAAAAAAGrU/LizTArotz_U/s1600/nn.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ispXwIBKSYc/VIYJmY9K_PI/AAAAAAAAGrU/LizTArotz_U/s1600/nn.JPG" height="638" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">as i am in the midst of tidying up forever and ever, never to tidy again, this means vignettes and collections of sorts have to be kept to a minimum or else they breed all over the walls and cupboards. so my drawer shelf is one of the few places i can change out with happy collections and feel this is okay because it is contained. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">when i ponder it from afar </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0bu4XpHIUBI/VIYJmtPFGcI/AAAAAAAAGrQ/6F23PmQvAt4/s1600/nnnnn.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0bu4XpHIUBI/VIYJmtPFGcI/AAAAAAAAGrQ/6F23PmQvAt4/s1600/nnnnn.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">or up close, it looks to me like a diorama or shadow box of sorts. i like this muchly, i like how whatever i put in it, unless it is black or graphite, will pop happily and joyfully.</div><div style="text-align: center;">i have high hopes i will like my kitchen window frame and picture frame equally so although the matte~ness of it has me a little fretful...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">footynote: please excuse continuing pants photos due to pants lighting, Colin the computer and his iffy monitoring issues and my long term separation with Carlos the Camera and ability to only see the world through squares.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09022694079560582497noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192598826979256861.post-40902478554524911292014-12-05T08:45:00.000-08:002015-01-02T20:57:37.302-08:00makers market nitty gritty and whatnot and this and that ....<div style="text-align: center;">hello hello, </div><div style="text-align: center;">we have been tres busy bees with </div><div style="text-align: center;">my folks visiting, </div><div style="text-align: center;">thanksgiving family time,</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FSo6efjIhm4/VIHd1gcj04I/AAAAAAAAGq8/A0Xu28wI_ok/s1600/llllll.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FSo6efjIhm4/VIHd1gcj04I/AAAAAAAAGq8/A0Xu28wI_ok/s1600/llllll.JPG" height="628" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">which included puzzle and game playing for all</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">holiday window dressing for the yarn store</div><div style="text-align: center;">and beavering away for the Makers Market </div><div style="text-align: center;">which is upon us tomorrow.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">i have also done a smidgen of joyful blinging </div><div style="text-align: center;">as i do like a bit of christmas bling. </div><div style="text-align: center;">this year i am going for minimal bling </div><div style="text-align: center;">to see if i can make it through to the new year </div><div style="text-align: center;">without me fighting the urge </div><div style="text-align: center;">to pop it all back in the attic. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">i will share my bling next week, </div><div style="text-align: center;">however today i will share Makers Market nitty gritty. </div><div style="text-align: center;">if you follow along with my daily instagram postings </div><div style="text-align: center;">you will have seen most if not all of these pics, </div><div style="text-align: center;">but if you do not, </div><div style="text-align: center;">then hurrah hooray! </div><div style="text-align: center;">it will not feel like you are watching repeats on the telly.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cS0IHE2iw4c/VIHdmzLwsLI/AAAAAAAAGqs/oyRB5nKk3so/s1600/lllll.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cS0IHE2iw4c/VIHdmzLwsLI/AAAAAAAAGqs/oyRB5nKk3so/s1600/lllll.JPG" height="640" width="638" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">a motley crew is gathering for the makers market in my 'atelier of sorts'</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DilLJUML_yk/VIHdkwUh_vI/AAAAAAAAGqU/M3Pi88pTuFQ/s1600/l.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DilLJUML_yk/VIHdkwUh_vI/AAAAAAAAGqU/M3Pi88pTuFQ/s1600/l.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">my dad took up calligraphy a little whiles ago and kindly agreed to making handwritten signs. he earnt a gold sticky star for his troubles</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--nmtlYsZrLQ/VIHdlzx5QQI/AAAAAAAAGqk/WrBZuXd2D5o/s1600/ll.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--nmtlYsZrLQ/VIHdlzx5QQI/AAAAAAAAGqk/WrBZuXd2D5o/s1600/ll.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">my mum did a fabby job at paper bag typing, however she did not earn a gold sticky star because unfortunately she typed some very rude words mid typing duties, implying the elf duties she had been given were quite crappity crap. rebelling in the elf quarters does not lead to gold sticky stars, i am afraid. tsk tsk</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fbNjqJk0LhI/VIHdk1e2YiI/AAAAAAAAGqY/9a9xzvwmVkE/s1600/lll.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fbNjqJk0LhI/VIHdk1e2YiI/AAAAAAAAGqY/9a9xzvwmVkE/s1600/lll.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">with limited table top space, i got creative with my leaning tower of lampshades thus making a most handy dandy holder for the vintage hmong dingle dangles and hand painted hearts </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ApG8YCffmro/VIHdnIId-hI/AAAAAAAAGqw/JVnrsmxfeUo/s1600/llll.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ApG8YCffmro/VIHdnIId-hI/AAAAAAAAGqw/JVnrsmxfeUo/s1600/llll.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">my folks were tres good with their elf duties, oh! except for my mum's rebellious typing ways, oh! and except for her bleeding episode on the button cards .... mmmm, yes i have come to the conclusion my mum is quite a pesky elf and am quite sure she is the sort of elf who will be making noises about unions and fair pay before long</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">if you would like to come visit me </div><div style="text-align: center;">and my little table of handmade, vintage, eclectic~ness, </div><div style="text-align: center;">(but not my elves,</div><div style="text-align: center;">for alas and alack, the elves fly home tomorrow, </div><div style="text-align: center;">sniff sniff)</div><div style="text-align: center;">i would be most delighted, </div><div style="text-align: center;">for more nitty gritty you can clickity click right </div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 64px; line-height: 73.5999984741211px;"><a href="http://www.toltyarnandwool.com/pages/upcoming-events" target="_blank">*** here ***</a></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Traveling _Typewriter"; font-size: 48.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">thank you kindly</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09022694079560582497noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192598826979256861.post-38271096560309332882014-11-30T19:02:00.000-08:002015-01-02T20:51:21.870-08:00Eliza's Newborn PicturesThese pictures were taken a week before we closed on Meadowbrook. You wouldn't know it by looking at them, but I was barely holding it together. Four kids, a newborn, packing, I had gone back to work the week before. We took all of the pictures in my bedroom, because it was the only room that wasn't completely or partially packed. Boxes everywhere, exposed nail holes on the walls. A mess. Me, the house, my life. I ordered 5 dresses from ASOS (free expedited shipping and free returns, can I get an hallelujah?!) and wore the only one that fit. And thank goodness one fit!<br /><br /><br /><br />I have learned so much about myself over the last year; I imagine this growth is just the beginning. One of the things I have come to appreciate is that I don't let the bad stuff ruin what's good. A new baby. A new sister. The love that comes from that, all good stuff. The rest of it? It's over and I survived.<br /><br /><br /><br />I knew even though so many parts of that week were parts I would want to forget, this moment wasn't one of them. It's so easy to talk about (or think about) our problems, but it's so much more enjoyable to talk about (or think about) our joys. These photos are some of my greatest joys.<br /><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yMsPt4BdSu4/VHvZL1sQ2BI/AAAAAAAAYww/YSl8XCOPTGU/s1600/_MG_2317.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yMsPt4BdSu4/VHvZL1sQ2BI/AAAAAAAAYww/YSl8XCOPTGU/s1600/_MG_2317.jpg" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Tec2kQm7T4k/VHvZLjbTvwI/AAAAAAAAYwU/evSA2wDjc2M/s1600/_MG_2352.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Tec2kQm7T4k/VHvZLjbTvwI/AAAAAAAAYwU/evSA2wDjc2M/s1600/_MG_2352.jpg" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hjLlaCn7ieE/VHvZL3Z5c2I/AAAAAAAAYwY/0CQA0z4H58o/s1600/_MG_2358%2Bcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hjLlaCn7ieE/VHvZL3Z5c2I/AAAAAAAAYwY/0CQA0z4H58o/s1600/_MG_2358%2Bcopy.jpg" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7Qy-4v37CYE/VHvZMABcatI/AAAAAAAAYwc/Yb9ND3_2Vc4/s1600/_MG_2380%2Bcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7Qy-4v37CYE/VHvZMABcatI/AAAAAAAAYwc/Yb9ND3_2Vc4/s1600/_MG_2380%2Bcopy.jpg" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PAo_6aZXozY/VHvZMRwU10I/AAAAAAAAYwo/vwKDZNJKpRI/s1600/_MG_2385.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PAo_6aZXozY/VHvZMRwU10I/AAAAAAAAYwo/vwKDZNJKpRI/s1600/_MG_2385.jpg" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ud31RMlDZGw/VHvZMnmLumI/AAAAAAAAYxs/xJAR00EKBmY/s1600/_MG_2405%2Bcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ud31RMlDZGw/VHvZMnmLumI/AAAAAAAAYxs/xJAR00EKBmY/s1600/_MG_2405%2Bcopy.jpg" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RtUsvrMbD5w/VHvZM4bCyGI/AAAAAAAAYw0/GaNb5833PiQ/s1600/_MG_2415%2Bcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RtUsvrMbD5w/VHvZM4bCyGI/AAAAAAAAYw0/GaNb5833PiQ/s1600/_MG_2415%2Bcopy.jpg" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ECDsHMmquGo/VHvZNHYyM9I/AAAAAAAAYw8/XthkzHCoJf0/s1600/_MG_2421.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ECDsHMmquGo/VHvZNHYyM9I/AAAAAAAAYw8/XthkzHCoJf0/s1600/_MG_2421.jpg" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_2OPX1AR9lU/VHvZNR59mII/AAAAAAAAYxQ/1j7ZYnYjho8/s1600/_MG_2441-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_2OPX1AR9lU/VHvZNR59mII/AAAAAAAAYxQ/1j7ZYnYjho8/s1600/_MG_2441-2.jpg" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JZxhYqaZeZk/VHvZNrdpdJI/AAAAAAAAYxI/JI-C9Khawwo/s1600/_MG_2467%2Bcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JZxhYqaZeZk/VHvZNrdpdJI/AAAAAAAAYxI/JI-C9Khawwo/s1600/_MG_2467%2Bcopy.jpg" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5lb3u51lSSY/VHvZOJgHZEI/AAAAAAAAYxU/yLtEwQMNK5Q/s1600/_MG_2474.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5lb3u51lSSY/VHvZOJgHZEI/AAAAAAAAYxU/yLtEwQMNK5Q/s1600/_MG_2474.jpg" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hKrglw7mF0Q/VHvZOb2OGoI/AAAAAAAAYxk/izCmz1J7FTE/s1600/_MG_2525%2Bcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hKrglw7mF0Q/VHvZOb2OGoI/AAAAAAAAYxk/izCmz1J7FTE/s1600/_MG_2525%2Bcopy.jpg" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yGtyj7zut3E/VHvZOV5p0TI/AAAAAAAAYxo/5wKNrihs0qw/s1600/_MG_2631.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yGtyj7zut3E/VHvZOV5p0TI/AAAAAAAAYxo/5wKNrihs0qw/s1600/_MG_2631.jpg" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--yuFtd2_0Io/VHvZPOvCxqI/AAAAAAAAYx4/v7TvAicM6aQ/s1600/_MG_2656.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--yuFtd2_0Io/VHvZPOvCxqI/AAAAAAAAYx4/v7TvAicM6aQ/s1600/_MG_2656.jpg" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-huVKK4CYWOA/VHvZPQLqE4I/AAAAAAAAYyA/KqSOy6M9K78/s1600/_MG_2709.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-huVKK4CYWOA/VHvZPQLqE4I/AAAAAAAAYyA/KqSOy6M9K78/s1600/_MG_2709.jpg" /></a></div><br /><br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09022694079560582497noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192598826979256861.post-6414519955099544272014-11-21T19:19:00.000-08:002015-01-02T20:51:21.882-08:00Eliza's Birth StoryI am not sure how this happened, but my baby is a month old today. It's been a blurry whirlwind. I know all parents say that, but given the events of the last month, mixed with having a newborn, truer words have never been spoken. I thought, since I didn't get to it sooner, that today would be an apropos day to finish her birth story.<br /><br /><br /><br />Eliza's due date is still a mystery to me, though I am sticking with my guns that her actual due date was October 18. Her chart at my OB still says October 15. So depending on who you believe she was either 3 or 5 days late. Friends couldn't believe that with all of the stress in my life, I didn't deliver preterm, but I kept saying that she was waiting for it to be safe to come out, waiting for me to secure us a house, waiting for it to be calmer.<br /><br /><br /><br />In the weeks leading up to her birth my OB's talked frequently about induction. The first time was because her fluid was looking low, but they waited and checked her again a few days later and my fluid was better. The second time was because I was already 4 cm dilated and full-term, with a history of laboring fast. They warned me there was a good chance I wouldn't make it to the hospital. But I really wanted to have a gradual labor, with time spent at home, I wanted her to come on her terms. I wanted it to be just like the movies, where a woman's water breaks and she smiles and says, "it's time!" and gets driven to the hospital by the frenetic, but lovingly concerned husband.<br /><br /><br /><br />The week of her due date I had an appointment to see my therapist and I talked to her about the lady at the pizza place and the night in the bathtub. We had already talked about my reiki sessions and the idea of spirit guides. Sidenote, what I love about my therapist is that she believes in spirituality and the law of attraction, but is also a real LMHC. In a conversation that I believe was no accident, she told me that all of the things I have been practicing and reading about were all based on a book called <i>A Course in Miracles (</i>which I have since downloaded but, sadly, have yet to read). She told me about Gabby Bernstein, who wrote a book called <i>Spirit Junkie</i>, and said that Gabby was fun to follow on Instagram.<br /><br /><br /><br />The night I went into labor with Eliza, I climbed into the tub at the end of another long day, and began scrolling through my phone to entertain myself, as I often do in the bath. After surfing Facebook and clearing out emails, I hopped on Instagram. I remember feeling overwhelmed with life and wondering if this baby was ever going to come out. And I thought about my conversation with my therapist and remembered the suggestion about Gabby Bernstein and searched her profile. Her post that day was this:<br /><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sdH_6wg7Lgo/VG_s-h1akTI/AAAAAAAAYuA/TeoChracYXM/s1600/IMG_3802.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sdH_6wg7Lgo/VG_s-h1akTI/AAAAAAAAYuA/TeoChracYXM/s1600/IMG_3802.PNG" /></a></div><br /><br /><br />I started thinking more about why Eliza had yet to come. As of my 40 week appointment I was 5 cm dilated and 70% effaced. I had been progressing steadily from week 37 on, and each week my OB's scratched their heads at how she was still hanging tough with my body so far along. I thought about this mantra, and wondered if my own fears were holding me back from delivering her. Fears of how I would survive as a single mom of four under four; fears about whether I am enough for these babies; fears about how raw it would feel to labor with her dad, who was no longer my husband, by my side; fears about being wide open and vulnerable and alone; fears about being homeless. So many fears.<br /><br /><br /><br />I decided to give it a try. I sat back in the tub, closed my eyes and began to breathe. About a half hour later my phone buzzed with a text message from my brother asking if I was still awake and if I wanted to talk. It was 9:42 p.m. I jokingly told him that I'd call him when I got out of the tub so that it wouldn't be awkward, and we had a bit of stupid sibling banter (that I'm including, because the whole convo cracks me up).<br /><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-628cjUFt40w/VG_uxmwwb_I/AAAAAAAAYuM/mwWGsHVMxwk/s1600/IMG_3261.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-628cjUFt40w/VG_uxmwwb_I/AAAAAAAAYuM/mwWGsHVMxwk/s1600/IMG_3261.PNG" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-v7mhdNVBOWo/VG_ux2CyAzI/AAAAAAAAYuQ/CTeCpYHzpAc/s1600/IMG_3262.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-v7mhdNVBOWo/VG_ux2CyAzI/AAAAAAAAYuQ/CTeCpYHzpAc/s1600/IMG_3262.PNG" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RDZZJ_n2WEU/VG_uzGCOZxI/AAAAAAAAYuk/1nch_c_Z1fs/s1600/IMG_3263.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RDZZJ_n2WEU/VG_uzGCOZxI/AAAAAAAAYuk/1nch_c_Z1fs/s1600/IMG_3263.PNG" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9ydBKZ2lBqA/VG_uyItnzRI/AAAAAAAAYuY/6cT3Q7OoiF0/s1600/IMG_3264.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9ydBKZ2lBqA/VG_uyItnzRI/AAAAAAAAYuY/6cT3Q7OoiF0/s1600/IMG_3264.PNG" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LqMNGkrpkAA/VG_u59BaEqI/AAAAAAAAYus/_tcFV9hKMkI/s1600/IMG_3265.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LqMNGkrpkAA/VG_u59BaEqI/AAAAAAAAYus/_tcFV9hKMkI/s1600/IMG_3265.PNG" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />By 9:50 p.m. I was on my fourth heavy contraction and calling Joe to get him to help me out of the tub. These weren't the little Braxton-Hicks contractions I had been having for months. I knew this was the real deal. I called Joe and he was walking the dog, I calmly said, "I need you to come home, I need help." And then I hung up and called our nanny. </div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />She was roughly 30 minutes away, and again I calmly said, "okay". But in my head I was thinking I didn't even have 30 minutes. I wondered if she would still want to work for our family if she watched me deliver a baby in my living room. I wondered if I would want to employ someone who saw that much of me. And then I had another contraction and my crazy thoughts disappeared. My contractions were strong and coming fast. I called my OB and left a message that I was in labor with the answering service.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />Joe got home and we finished throwing stuff in my hospital bag, I paced my bedroom, bending over the bed or the dresser with each contraction. At that point they were under 5 minutes apart. Joe called our nanny for a sit rep two or three more times. She got to our house at 10:15 p.m. and I was already walking to the car. The contractions were coming faster and getting stronger. </div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />We flew down the driveway and got stuck behind the most conservative driver that ever lived. It was around that time that the on-call OB called me back. She asked all the normal questions (how far along I am, how dilated I was at the last appointment, how fast my contractions were coming, what kid was this for me, how far we were from the hospital) I squeaked out my responses in between contractions...over 40 weeks...5-6 cm...1-2 minutes...number four...35 minutes away. She later admitted she didn't think we'd make it to the hospital after speaking to me on the phone. </div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />We got on the highway and it was raining. I could see the speedometer reading 90-95 mph and I kept telling Joe to slow down, that I was afraid of his speed. He works at the hospital in which I delivered all four kids and he kept telling me to calm down, focus on keeping her in, and let him drive, that he knew the road, and he would get us there safely. We made it almost two exits before we got pulled over. Joe kept trying to get out of the car to tell the officer that I was in labor and I was screaming at him to stay inside so that the cop didn't draw a weapon or something. And then I was screaming in pain. Joe started shouting out the window, "My wife is in labor! My wife is in labor!" The cop took his sweet ass time getting out of his car and then meandered over to our car even more slowly. When he got close enough to be in earshot, he looked at Joe confused and then shone his light in on me. I was mid-contraction and moaning wildly. The officer, who was all of 22, looked panicked and started waving us forward, shouting, "You're all set! Just go! Just go!"</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />We passed four more cop cars on the way to the hospital, and didn't get pulled over again. So while this guy didn't give us a police escort (probably didn't want to deliver my baby on the highway), it seems like he did, at least, radio ahead. </div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />My contractions were 1-2 minutes long coming every 1-2 minutes. They were painful and I was literally holding her in with all of my might. Joe kept telling me, "Just keep her in, Nik, just keep her in." I was breathing and moaning and holding myself up with the oh shit handle, the whole time thinking I was going to deliver her in my husband's car. </div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />We got to the hospital and the valet was already gone. Joe threw the car in park and left it running. I was freaking out because it's not the best city and I was afraid someone would steal our car. In hindsight, it was a funny thing to be worried about given the fact that I was literally giving birth in the entrance of the hospital. There were no wheelchairs and the elevator was farther away from us than the stairs, so we took the stairs. I walked up two flights of stairs, stopping to breathe through each contraction, to get to the next bank of elevators that would take us to labor and delivery. A hospital employee who was on break or starting their shift or something, held the elevator door for us and when he realized that I was literally having my baby right there, he ran ahead of us off the elevator and alerted the nursing staff. </div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />Several nurses came running around a corner, one had a wheelchair, but I couldn't sit. I just did not want to sit. They got me into a room and I stood next to my hospital bed, leaning forward on it to work through a few more contractions. Joe went to go move the car. I remember thinking he wouldn't make it back in time. I took my clothes off and got into my gown. I was checked into the hospital system at 10:57 p.m. </div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />A young nurse came in to start my IV, I was having back to back contractions. I told her I didn't want an IV and she grabbed my arm to start the line, and that's when I verbally assaulted her telling her to stop touching me with her pointy stick. I didn't see that nurse again. </div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />They asked me if I wanted an epidural and I said yes and then no again immediately. I remember thinking there wouldn't be time, there wasn't enough time. I knew if it hurt that much that I was close and it would be over soon. A nurse checked me and I was 7 cm, when my OB came in a few minutes later she checked me and I was fully dilated and ready to push.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />The first few contractions felt wild and out of control. My OB gowned up and sat down as I started to push, and my water exploded with a force that surprised everyone in the room. The pain got even more intense and I became even more frightened. I thought about the pain and the fears and all of the things keeping me wild and scared, and then something shifted with my next breath. I exhaled and let it all go, giving into the process, giving into the fear, surrendering. </div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />As I focused on my breathing, I got very quiet. And then I pushed and pushed and pushed. In between contractions I actually had (short) breaks to regroup a bit. I stayed quiet, except to say a few times that I was tired, or that I didn't want to ever do this again. And then on one contraction Joe, my OB and the nurse that was helping to hold my leg started encouraging me to push a little longer and a little harder. My OB told me to stop pushing, she adjusted Eliza and then she told me to push again and a few seconds later I felt her pass through my body and my perfect baby was on my chest. </div><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Lp9Ejgb0d7c/VG_8um7VIYI/AAAAAAAAYu8/spzzCk5Y1a0/s1600/IMG_3117.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Lp9Ejgb0d7c/VG_8um7VIYI/AAAAAAAAYu8/spzzCk5Y1a0/s1600/IMG_3117.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-N8mepdEX02M/VG_84fLUveI/AAAAAAAAYvE/-V_VfI084Is/s1600/IMG_3126.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-N8mepdEX02M/VG_84fLUveI/AAAAAAAAYvE/-V_VfI084Is/s1600/IMG_3126.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><br /></div><br />I looked at her and I cried, "We did it baby girl. We did it. It's just you and me. It was always you and me. We did it." And I wept and kissed her sweet face. I got to hold her for over an hour and nurse her. Her grip and her latch were strong, and we sat together. Nursing and clutching each other.<br /><br /><br /><br />Eliza James was born on October 21 at 11:27 p.m. weighing 7 pounds, 13 ounces and was 20" long.<br /><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OJXFxW6LYAM/VG_8_UfHicI/AAAAAAAAYvM/8zcwjaHo2Ig/s1600/IMG_3113.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OJXFxW6LYAM/VG_8_UfHicI/AAAAAAAAYvM/8zcwjaHo2Ig/s1600/IMG_3113.jpg" /></a></div><br /><br /><br />My perfect, spiky-haired, gorgeous baby girl came into the world 1 hour and 45 minutes after I opened my eyes in that bathtub.<br /><br /><br /><br />Because I had no IV, they couldn't push pitocin to deliver my placenta and that took almost a half hour. I actually felt guilty for holding up my OB, but when my body was ready I could feel the contractions start again, and I pushed through one contraction and the placenta passed me, the room cleared out, and I was alone with my baby girl. Joe came back from calling his parents and our nanny and said goodnight and we were alone together again. My miracle baby and I, holding onto each other.<br /><br /><br /><br />I now understand why people preach about natural births. I'm so glad I held out and let her come on her own terms. From beginning to end, her birth was one of the most beautiful experiences of my life. Once I let go of my fears, it was so peaceful and so natural. I understand now why I was given the gift of this child, this little healer, this tiny warrior. I am thankful each and every day.<br /><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L7_G0sWdKRM/VHAAF7ECJRI/AAAAAAAAYvc/jn9QN0Tu9Bc/s1600/IMG_3317.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L7_G0sWdKRM/VHAAF7ECJRI/AAAAAAAAYvc/jn9QN0Tu9Bc/s1600/IMG_3317.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><i>{ 1 week old }</i></div><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YQwoQ7H7CuE/VHAAFmAmXBI/AAAAAAAAYvY/R5nY_epVsjs/s1600/IMG_3489.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YQwoQ7H7CuE/VHAAFmAmXBI/AAAAAAAAYvY/R5nY_epVsjs/s1600/IMG_3489.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><i>{ 2 weeks old }</i></div><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HxwtKFdLt8U/VHAAFo7auXI/AAAAAAAAYvg/1YUNGsXiu2k/s1600/IMG_3680.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HxwtKFdLt8U/VHAAFo7auXI/AAAAAAAAYvg/1YUNGsXiu2k/s1600/IMG_3680.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><i>{ 3 weeks old }</i></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><i><br /></i></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qYZSU2_LMPs/VHAAoQcRv5I/AAAAAAAAYvw/WNwj5pbMzj4/s1600/IMG_3797.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qYZSU2_LMPs/VHAAoQcRv5I/AAAAAAAAYvw/WNwj5pbMzj4/s1600/IMG_3797.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><i>{ 4 weeks old }</i></div><br /><br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09022694079560582497noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192598826979256861.post-64487200675939972232014-11-21T11:04:00.000-08:002015-01-02T20:57:37.314-08:00seven things, not six and not eight, just seven ...<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>thing one:</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;">late last night Our #2 turned up and on sunday my folks appear too! tis less than a week to Thanksgiving and it is truly beginning to feel like the holidays. it has been 2 years since my folks came to stay, we are all quite giddy waiting their arrival and i have promised them they will not have to stand for a whole 2 weeks and that there will be chairs and a bed for them to rest their weary bods.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">thing two:</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;">i will be participating in the 2nd Makers Market this december 6th from 9 to 6 at <a href="http://www.toltyarnandwool.com/" target="_blank">Tolt Yarn and Wool</a>. my little stall will be a medley of vintage and handmade with a sprinkling of 'one offs' from my studio. if perchance you would like to pottle on by to see me, i would like that so muchly </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">thing three:</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;">alas and alack, the last of our chickie peas, Little Voice, was taken from us this past weekend.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2WmQsslPY2U/VG-KidiMJQI/AAAAAAAAGp0/BIJg4tHPEwk/s1600/sss.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2WmQsslPY2U/VG-KidiMJQI/AAAAAAAAGp0/BIJg4tHPEwk/s1600/sss.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> it has been 6 years since those funny little feathered friends <a href="http://dottieangel.blogspot.com/2009/03/its-just-chicken-coop.html" target="_blank">came to live with us</a>, the very reason for us moving to Mossy Shed. 6 years of every evening some bod shouting through the shed "has someone popped the chickens away?" and 6 years of me standing at the kitchen sink each morn watching them pace up and down ready to be let free to roam another day. my man said upon discovery of Little Voice having gone to the great las vegas in the sky, albeit not looking her finest, "we may be planning our future but we must still live in the present, therefore i vote we find ourselves some chicks next spring" i have no idea where that profound wisdom came from, but i liked it, i liked it a whole lot and in turn this made me like him too.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">thing four:</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;">i have finished up my 'woolly tattoo'-ed sweater but cannot don it for the cold dip has gone away and now we are positively tropical in temps with a bit of damp. i fear if i put on my turtle neck wool sweater i may just have a bit of a panic and overheat, thus it will have to just wait looking splendid upon a hanger till such time the temps dip again</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XdLxXLbK4dg/VG-KinUaGlI/AAAAAAAAGp4/5kEihgFC2Qw/s1600/ss.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XdLxXLbK4dg/VG-KinUaGlI/AAAAAAAAGp4/5kEihgFC2Qw/s1600/ss.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>thing five;</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;">the new issue of <a href="http://www.pompommag.com/" target="_blank">PomPom Quarterly</a> appeared at work yesterday, i had not planned to go in but a need to change a few displays was required so off i trotted. where upon i saw a copy and flicked to just one page which happened to have mittens upon it, not just any old mittens but crocheted mittens, the likes of which i have never seen before. be still my beating mitten loving heart. i was smitten, i needed to make those mittens. all plans to make Our #3 a knitted beanie to keep his nuggin warm this scottish winter went out the window. all plans to figure out a crochet version of the 1930's cowl went out the door. all plans to make a granny neckerchief to share on this here shiny space went out the cat flap. for all i have eyes for is this peachy pair</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-59w7aoSr-Gk/VG-Km8pVCiI/AAAAAAAAGqE/DSNaHG-3xx0/s1600/photo%2B1.JPGs.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-59w7aoSr-Gk/VG-Km8pVCiI/AAAAAAAAGqE/DSNaHG-3xx0/s1600/photo%2B1.JPGs.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">thing six:</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;">i did not know when i wrote about the book i read this <a href="http://dottieangel.blogspot.com/2014/11/tidying-up.html" target="_blank">past week</a> how many dearies it would resonant with, i felt i was not putting things into words correctly, that it was swimming all jumbly and bumbly inside of my head, mixed up with so many emotions and i could not let it come out clearly but i need not have fretted for it would appear the gist of it was understood. it is an emotional and physically draining process when you start to sort through mementos from years gone by. </div><div style="text-align: center;">i am tres happy to think when i read the comments on <a href="https://www.facebook.com/dottieangel" target="_blank">facebook</a> that perhaps this little book will help others join me in treading not so fearfully 'the path of letting go'.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">thing seven:</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;">dearest readers, happy happy weekend to you, may it be filled with love, light, learning and lots of joy</div><div style="text-align: center;">x</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09022694079560582497noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192598826979256861.post-48667116337403457142014-11-21T06:11:00.000-08:002015-01-02T20:45:53.366-08:00On measures taken to keep us listing slightly to starboard.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kuZoJKFOAvo/VG81BDJso8I/AAAAAAAAAPE/JsLqdddYqTk/s1600/Presentation%2Bof%2Bthe%2BBlessed%2BVirgin%2BMary%2BNew%2B04.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kuZoJKFOAvo/VG81BDJso8I/AAAAAAAAAPE/JsLqdddYqTk/s1600/Presentation%2Bof%2Bthe%2BBlessed%2BVirgin%2BMary%2BNew%2B04.jpg" height="249" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Today, 21st November, the feast of the Presentation of the Blessed Virgin in the Temple, is the day chosen by us to grapple with the demands both of monastic observance and communication with the outside world. Since both are necessary.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_6mTtEMA268/VG81HirNl8I/AAAAAAAAAPM/nBgMikfqnM8/s1600/St%2BAlphonsus%2Bleave%2Bthe%2Bworld.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_6mTtEMA268/VG81HirNl8I/AAAAAAAAAPM/nBgMikfqnM8/s1600/St%2BAlphonsus%2Bleave%2Bthe%2Bworld.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><b>Leave the world and give yourself to Me.</b></span></i></div><br />In monastic life we follow St. Alphonsus who as a young man was directly told by a voice from heaven: "Leave the world and give yourself to me." This led him eventually to Ciorani where he and his early companions were described as "the solitaries of Ciorani."<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MOLmZrGjMt0/VG802BnsekI/AAAAAAAAAOs/G3LLw0faG7c/s1600/500px-AlphonsusLiguori.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MOLmZrGjMt0/VG802BnsekI/AAAAAAAAAOs/G3LLw0faG7c/s1600/500px-AlphonsusLiguori.jpg" height="320" width="266" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span style="color: #3d85c6;">From young manhood until his death when over 90, </span></i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span style="color: #3d85c6;">whether as solitary, missionary or bishop</span></i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span style="color: #3d85c6;">Alphonsus, our father, left the world </span></i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span style="color: #3d85c6;">and gave himself to Jesus.</span></i></b></div><br />The spiritual men who knew St Alphonsus and his companions, including his first biographer the Servant of God, Fr Antonio Tannoia, C.SS.R., considered those first Redemptorists to have lived their monastic life as did the early Desert Fathers in Nubia and the Thebaid. Fr Tannoia’s high praise for St Alphonsus is echoed without exception by other writers.<br />Repeatedly expressions are used such as:<br />•<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“a hermitage, a lonely, solitary spot” (the Monastery at Ciorani) where “Nubia and the Thebaid never saw coenobites more given to contemplation than our hermits”<br />•<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“the blessed hermitage” where the saint’s life “might be compared to that of the anchorites of the desert.”<br />Scala which was the cradle of the institute is variously described as:<br />•<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“the desert”<br />•<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“the hermitage so well adapted for recollection and prayer”<br />•<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“difficult of access”<br />•<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“remote”<br />•<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“this desert", where a "truly eremitical life began for all of them”<br />•<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“the solitude of the anchorites of Egypt” where “we live in calm and silence far from the tumult of the world, hearing nothing of what is passing there”<br />•<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“the new Thebaid”<br />•<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“the solitude” where they lived “on the hill alone, like Jesus in the desert.”<br />The monastery of Iliceto: "the hermitage”<br />The monastery of Caposele: “the hermitage”<br />The monastery at Villa degli Schiavi: "the hemitage."<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wRZ61BfwDo0/VG8zARvZ6PI/AAAAAAAAAOg/IkVKEmDBkFw/s1600/cells.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wRZ61BfwDo0/VG8zARvZ6PI/AAAAAAAAAOg/IkVKEmDBkFw/s1600/cells.jpg" height="298" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><i><b>The cells of Papa Stronsay.</b></i></span><br /><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><i><b>The early life of St Alphonsus and his companions is our beautiful heritage. </b></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><i><b>In the monastery-island of Papa Stronsay we cherish this ideal.</b></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><i><b>In a far inferior degree we strive to pursue it.</b></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>All this is true. It is also true that our holy vocation calls us to the apostolate and the salvation of souls. St. Alphonsus was as on fire in his search for souls, as he was, at other times, in search of solitude.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Venerable double vocation!</b> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HHHRT5QPTmY/VG81MoNTbmI/AAAAAAAAAQE/kIwOdexN2_Q/s1600/prayer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HHHRT5QPTmY/VG81MoNTbmI/AAAAAAAAAQE/kIwOdexN2_Q/s1600/prayer.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><br /></span></b></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="color: #3d85c6;">Yes! To continual prayer in solitude, </span></b></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="color: #3d85c6;">cut off from the world, as a hermit.</span></b></i> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TCLXeSo0W2Q/VG81L4SGy4I/AAAAAAAAAP4/oz_hTvnsZ6o/s1600/magdala%2Bon%2Bmission.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TCLXeSo0W2Q/VG81L4SGy4I/AAAAAAAAAP4/oz_hTvnsZ6o/s1600/magdala%2Bon%2Bmission.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span style="color: #3d85c6;">Yes too! </span></i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span style="color: #3d85c6;">To untiring mission to souls,</span></i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span style="color: #3d85c6;"> in the midst of the world, as an Apostle.</span></i></b> </div><br />These two directions, like identical twins, wrestle with each other. They always did. They still do. St Alphonsus, in the early Constitutions of 1764, brought the two vocations to an almost perfect balance.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zf2_1d42ELY/VG81M1VwHJI/AAAAAAAAAQM/cOvjdNfBsPw/s1600/slight%2Blist%2Bto%2Bstarboard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zf2_1d42ELY/VG81M1VwHJI/AAAAAAAAAQM/cOvjdNfBsPw/s1600/slight%2Blist%2Bto%2Bstarboard.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span style="color: #3d85c6;">"Thar she blows!"</span></i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span style="color: #3d85c6;">The Good Ship "St Alphonsus," making for port </span></i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span style="color: #3d85c6;">but slightly listing to starboard.</span></i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span style="color: #3d85c6;">She is in search of big fish. Indeed she's ...</span></i></b><b><i><span style="color: #3d85c6;"> a whaler! </span></i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span style="color: #3d85c6;">-but rightly ballasted to her starboard side.</span></i></b></div><br />St Alphonsus, as it were, constructed his sons a fishing boat to go in search of souls, but he ballasted the ship in such a way that it always slightly listed to starboard, the side of solitude; under the gaze of the Star of the Sea, the Morning Star, the<i> Stella Matutina</i>.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DgTzcTSACw4/VG8_W1aMa3I/AAAAAAAAAQ0/LpAYu_fDkJI/s1600/stella.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DgTzcTSACw4/VG8_W1aMa3I/AAAAAAAAAQ0/LpAYu_fDkJI/s1600/stella.jpg" height="400" width="241" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><b><i>Our Lady! Our Sweetness! Who fixes us in our love of solitude, </i></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><b><i>search for God and flight from the world!</i></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><b><i>She is called Porta Caeli, Gate of Heaven, </i></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><b><i>obtaining grace for the salvation for souls</i></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><b><i> through missionary efforts on the fishing boat's port side.</i></b></span><b style="color: #3d85c6;"><i> </i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>As a measure to protect our vocation to solitude and, in the good sense, our call to flight from the world, we have decided, as an experiment, that from today we will greatly limit our use of the Internet, keeping its use to Thursdays. We will post on the Internet (Blog or Facebook) only on Thursdays. We will receive or reply to email only on Thursdays.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hp0hfdroW1s/VG804o9eS7I/AAAAAAAAAO0/yop4noWUzIc/s1600/907.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hp0hfdroW1s/VG804o9eS7I/AAAAAAAAAO0/yop4noWUzIc/s1600/907.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span style="color: #3d85c6;">Our little boat Stella Maris </span></i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span style="color: #3d85c6;">has set her course for the solitude of the sea. </span></i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span style="color: #3d85c6;">We keep you in our prayers, </span></i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span style="color: #3d85c6;">and ask for yours, for us.</span></i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><br /></span></i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span style="color: #3d85c6;">Thursdays will see us back into port, </span></i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span style="color: #3d85c6;">fresh, buoyed up, and surely still listing slightly to starboard.</span></i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><br /></span></i></b></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09022694079560582497noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192598826979256861.post-19061953741894092222014-11-19T11:33:00.000-08:002015-01-02T20:57:37.326-08:00tidying up ...<div style="text-align: center;">i have just finished up a book with a cat on my lap in bed at 10am this morn, this is highly risque of me and not my usual morning routine. however when i rolled out of bed this morn at 6:30 to get Our #4 to school i noted upon my return (in pj's still) that is was my only morning in the longest time when i did not have to be out and about somewhere. </div><div style="text-align: center;">so i took my book and a passing cat back to bed.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">the book i am reading is called 'the life-changing magic of tidying up' by marie kondo and you can find it online if you go searching. it found me in an odd roundabout way which makes me once again wonder about how the timing of these things comes to be.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fmOgibsLqI8/VGzuN-AE6fI/AAAAAAAAGpg/WpI50XG8YOM/s1600/photo.JPGv.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fmOgibsLqI8/VGzuN-AE6fI/AAAAAAAAGpg/WpI50XG8YOM/s1600/photo.JPGv.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">i have read it from cover to cover and placed little sticky notes here and there for fear my aging cogs will not retain. i realize all along i was purging with the wrong intentions, i am thankful to marie for pointing this out. it is not about what you wish to get rid of, but what you choose to keep and why. what brings you joy the moment you look at it and only keeping those joyful things in your life. she also holds your hand when it comes to letting mementos and photos go.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">i have come to the conclusion i hang onto the past, always have and i wonder if i always will? according to marie, i will not if i follow her easy but strict rules for tidying up once and for all. i find it even more interesting that it takes a stranger of whom i have only just met to give me the ability to let so many things go, things which i was hanging onto because of who gave them to me or how they came into my possession. i realize despite having these things in my life, they cannot bring back that person and all but a few of those things actually connect me to a memory of that person. i do not want to live in the past any longer.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">whenever i read a book such as this, i become a believer. i like books which lighten the load we carry, i like books which help clear the air and the noise in our heads and our bodies. i did not know i liked such books until a few years back one rescued me. i like that marie believes if i tidy up (clear out) once and for all, the weight i have been feeling the past few years will be lifted. of course it is quite possible you may read the book and think she and me are quite bonkers. truth be told i think it is a little too but i do not care, all i care is, right now i can let the past go and the future, (specifically a bricks and mortar dream) and truly live in the present.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-No4P35VNzDg/VGzuNRWWFNI/AAAAAAAAGpc/smv1Lg9Gh7k/s1600/photo.JPGvv.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-No4P35VNzDg/VGzuNRWWFNI/AAAAAAAAGpc/smv1Lg9Gh7k/s1600/photo.JPGvv.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">my creative corner after tidying up. fret not, Miss Ethel is safely tucked under the table resting quietly until our next spin together</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;">i told my man all about what i had learnt (half way through the book) the other day, when he came in from spending 5 hours picking up the debris covering our acre of moss. i told him it was terribly important to hold each possession in your hand and ask the question "does this bring me joy?" and if not, then its okay to let it go, even if at one point it did. i then continued telling him we can only have things in our home that bring us joy from now on. he looked at me covered in dirt, dried bits of leaves and pine needles and said "my leaf blower and lawn mower bring me no joy, i do not need to hold them in my hand to know that. shall i thank them, then get rid of them so we can slowly be buried under a pile of yard waste?"</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> darn and drat, i have a 'non believer clever bod' in my midst. alas, marie does not talk about non believers, her wisdom only goes as far as to say, </div><div style="text-align: center;">"where you tidy, others will follow" ... mmmmm, interesting, very interesting.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09022694079560582497noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192598826979256861.post-18086822932458936432014-11-14T11:39:00.000-08:002015-01-02T20:57:37.337-08:00woolly tattoos ...<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-y1nbvB7tna4/VGZSbMLf_cI/AAAAAAAAGok/QvLRqnmttO4/s1600/photo%2B3.JPGbbb.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-y1nbvB7tna4/VGZSbMLf_cI/AAAAAAAAGok/QvLRqnmttO4/s640/photo%2B3.JPGbbb.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">i do not wish to do anything else, forever and ever, other than stitch woolly tattoos on knitwear.</div><div style="text-align: center;"> i am pondering stitching </div><div style="text-align: center;">'I <span style="color: #c00000; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 26pt; line-height: 115%;">♥ </span>MY MUM' </div><div style="text-align: center;">upon my man's sweater sleeve whilst he is at work today.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">my cogs are whirring with the 'woolly tattoo' possibilities and wondering if one could travel the world with suitcase and yarn in hand, teaching folks to woolly tattoo their yarny garments. i asked my man this morn whilst he was deep in thought, if this maybe so. if i plotted and planned and worked really really hard, should we, could we, would we, possibly have a chance in a couple of years to see the world whilst woolly tattooing from town to town?</div><div style="text-align: center;">"why not?" said he distracted </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TvEShBrrJ1g/VGZSbv8uUcI/AAAAAAAAGoo/0b0IKm-197E/s1600/photo%2B4.JPGbbb.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TvEShBrrJ1g/VGZSbv8uUcI/AAAAAAAAGoo/0b0IKm-197E/s640/photo%2B4.JPGbbb.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">already i was elsewhere... </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fFgJw-wtruQ/VGZZex_93CI/AAAAAAAAGpM/iiduivwGxAE/s1600/iii%2B-%2BCopy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fFgJw-wtruQ/VGZZex_93CI/AAAAAAAAGpM/iiduivwGxAE/s640/iii%2B-%2BCopy.JPG" width="638" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">ah yes indeedy! i can see it now! </div><div style="text-align: center;">and in my head i have left home two years early</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #c00000; font-size: 26.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09022694079560582497noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192598826979256861.post-89639087105774001402014-11-12T10:36:00.000-08:002015-01-02T20:57:37.348-08:00things, oh so many things ...<div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">thing one:</span></b> </div><div style="text-align: center;">i blog every day, it just happens most days it stays in my head and never ever gets tippity tapped out here. today is a day of tippity tapping.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rAMj25AfZns/VGOmpWWnSGI/AAAAAAAAGoI/lPjdexqTPvQ/s1600/mmmmmmmm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rAMj25AfZns/VGOmpWWnSGI/AAAAAAAAGoI/lPjdexqTPvQ/s640/mmmmmmmm.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">thing two:</span></b> </div><div style="text-align: center;">it has turned tres chilly around these parts, when it does so and i see frost on the ground it makes me think of old blighty. i lay in bed last night pondering if i were brave enough to wear my mittens out of the shed. this morn i arose, still pondering and decided not to rush things and instead donned my thermal vest and woolly tights.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">thing three:</span></b> </div><div style="text-align: center;">there is a magazine on the paper shelves over here called Flea Market Decor and the dec/jan issue is hot off the press. you will find me on page 110 where upon a jolly nice article was written about trimming different trees for christmas. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-439T8gxFloQ/VGOmof1s2eI/AAAAAAAAGn4/3jyUsanbvAA/s1600/mmmmmm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-439T8gxFloQ/VGOmof1s2eI/AAAAAAAAGn4/3jyUsanbvAA/s640/mmmmmm.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-do0M0JYi-WA/VGOmo---4FI/AAAAAAAAGoQ/34Fliw9kpR0/s1600/mmmmmmm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-do0M0JYi-WA/VGOmo---4FI/AAAAAAAAGoQ/34Fliw9kpR0/s640/mmmmmmm.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://woodwoolstool.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">my lovely friend Ingrid's</a> wood and wool x-mas tree is in one of the photos and if perchance you wish for such a little wood festive tree for yourself you can find them in her <a href="https://www.etsy.com/shop/woodwoolstool" target="_blank">most spiffy shop</a> alongside of crochet patterns and other bits of wood and woolly goodness. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">thing four:</span></b> </div><div style="text-align: center;">last night i embarked on an embroidery project despite it being against the rules and regulations laid down in my newly made set of rules and regulations. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HXv4i3RPI30/VGOmnkpHKVI/AAAAAAAAGns/N5JQ_0DWEho/s1600/mmm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HXv4i3RPI30/VGOmnkpHKVI/AAAAAAAAGns/N5JQ_0DWEho/s640/mmm.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">i should be thinking of making wares for the up and coming Markers Market on december 6th at <a href="http://www.toltyarnandwool.com/" target="_blank">Tolt Yarn and Wool</a>. yes i should, for last year it was really rather wonderful and so many dearies came to see me, i am hopeful they will this year too but they will not if i spend my time embroidering selfishly for myself and do not have a thing to put upon my little table at the Makers Market. i have had one thought, my folks arrive shortly and i am thinking they will probably want to insist upon helping make things with me! i will say "no no no, dearest folks, i will not hear of it" and they will say "oh but Tif, it truly would make us so happy to help you and spend quality crafting time altogether, please please let us help you make" and that will be it, i will have no choice for i would not wish to make them sad and think they are not wanted.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">thing five:</span></b> </div><div style="text-align: center;">a little whiles ago, <a href="http://fringeassociation.com/" target="_blank">Karen Templer of Fringe Association</a> invited me to be part of her <a href="http://fringeassociation.com/tag/our-tools-ourselves/" target="_blank">Our Tools, Ourselves series</a> where she asks 'makers of all sorts' questions about their tools.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MYGslAZEUXI/VGOmnjbTFVI/AAAAAAAAGoA/yXS_Kc0bmCc/s1600/mmmm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MYGslAZEUXI/VGOmnjbTFVI/AAAAAAAAGoA/yXS_Kc0bmCc/s640/mmmm.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> i must confess i was quite trembley about the whole thing because Karen's blog is a big knitted fish in a big yarny sea. a big yarny sea i have found myself doggy paddling in, ever since being thrown in the deep end a year ago when Tolt opened its doors. putting aside my dog paddling ways, if you would care to ganders what thrilling answers i came up with to very interesting and thoughtful questioning, then please click <a href="http://fringeassociation.com/2014/11/12/our-tools-ourselves-tif-fussell-dottie-angel/" target="_blank">here</a> or click <a href="http://fringeassociation.com/2014/11/12/our-tools-ourselves-tif-fussell-dottie-angel/" target="_blank">here</a> or click, click, clickity, click <a href="http://fringeassociation.com/2014/11/12/our-tools-ourselves-tif-fussell-dottie-angel/" target="_blank">here</a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">thing six:</span></b> </div><div style="text-align: center;">as i have been clearing my head and my shed quite manically of late, and then fretting i will clear so much away, nothing will be left in my head nor my shed, i realized this could and never would be. all i was doing was making space for opportunities to present, or doors to open, or perhaps not, does not matter. for what mattered was what i noted upon my clearing ways, as i bagged things for thrift, stacked others to sell, plotting and planning our next move, not actually knowing exactly when it would be nor where we would go, it finally happened. the moment that caused a crack in my heart four years ago when our #1 left home and subsequently, two others followed in her footsteps, the moment that left me struggling to move forward feeling quite visible and alone without them by my side. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">well that cracked heart i do believe has patched and pieced itself together again, it may have taken four years, with many a dip in the road, but i have got there in the end.</div><div style="text-align: center;"> and it was with rather a tearful moment i realized sitting amongst the piles of 'to-gos' and 'to-stays' that when the time comes for the last of my lot to leave in the near future, i will be more than ready suitcase in hand, a skip to my step and my man by my side, to start a new chapter, taking with me many treasured possessions, most of which i will be carrying in my head and my heart and not as one might have suspected, my little suitcase.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-i4PvFLIvcO0/VGOmnrAKSvI/AAAAAAAAGnw/vUyl_TDDCUw/s1600/mmmmm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-i4PvFLIvcO0/VGOmnrAKSvI/AAAAAAAAGnw/vUyl_TDDCUw/s640/mmmmm.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09022694079560582497noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192598826979256861.post-18694641936047296102014-11-11T12:02:00.000-08:002015-01-02T20:51:21.897-08:00The Collapse. Midnight. Then Peace.I have been meaning to capture Eliza's birth story before the tiny details escape me, but there is a slightly larger story to tell and one that I have been both afraid to share and covetous of sharing. It has been such a deeply personal series of moments that have brought me great pain and greater comfort and I hesitate to be that exposed. But if I am to tell the story of how she came to be born, then I feel I must tell it from the beginning.<br /><br /><br /><br />It is not easy to go through a pregnancy and terminate a marriage simultaneously. In fact, at times it feels emotionally impossible. The night Eliza was born, I sat in my hospital bed holding her, nursing her, while editing the Memorandum of Understanding which executes my separation and precedes my divorce. The dichotomy of being filled with so much love and so much anguish concurrently is a space I hope to never feel again.<br /><br /><br /><br />---<br /><br /><br /><br /><h4><br />The Spirit Guide</h4><br />About halfway through my pregnancy I felt heavy. My soul felt heavy. I worried about what this energy would do to the baby, how it was affecting her. So I began seeing a woman for Reiki with the goal of clearing out some of the darkness. I only managed to go twice in nine months. Taking care of myself isn't something I have a lot of time for, but the sessions were powerful.<br /><br /><br /><br />During the first session, Eliza didn't stop moving, wriggling, writhing. It was like the movement of the energy was giving her new life. I woke up from the session with an unstoppable force of tears rolling down my face. If you know me, you know that I don't cry. I just don't cry. This release was so necessary and so important. The healer who performed the session hugged me hard when it was over. I joke now, that I paid $80 for a hug. Ill-timed jokes are my thing when I am maxed out or vulnerable. In truth, it was the best $80 I had spent all year. It was also the first hug I'd had all year.<br /><br /><br /><br />I walked away feeling lighter, but not clearer.<br /><br /><br /><br />Session two came nearly a month later, I drifted into that space between awake and asleep and felt the baby move and felt my fears rise and felt my breathing slow down, almost stop. I was literally drowning in the fear, I could feel myself holding onto it, worrying how I was going to do this all and do this all on my own. And that's when I felt something or someone hold my hand. It was warm and it squeezed my hand and I knew that I would find the strength to make it through, I knew that I would be okay.<br /><br /><br /><br />---<br /><br /><br /><br /><h4><br />The Dark Night of the Soul</h4><br />On September 24, we received the first offer on our house. It was $70,000 below asking price. It was an offer we could never take, as doing so would mean I didn't even have enough money to start over again, to put a roof over my babies' heads. We were deep in the thick of our separation and feelings were everywhere. The offer ignited fear in both Joe and I, and manifested into how we each process that feeling of being afraid. It was a new low. I felt like this would never be over, we would never come out of it, I would never survive. And what came after between us took me to a place where I lost all hope.<br /><br /><br /><br />After putting my babies down for bed, choking back tears, I slid into the bathtub where I cried. I cried so hard I vomited all over myself several times. I cried until the water went cold and then I cried long after it had gotten cold. And I prayed for death. I acknowledged that I didn't have the strength to survive, and I had lost the will. I acknowledged that the fear and sadness had consumed me. And I prayed for the end of it all. I prayed that god would just take me and let me leave the pain of this world and this body, but that someone would find me in time to save the baby. I asked god to send me a sign that everything would be okay or to just take my life, let me go, just save her.<br /><br /><br /><br />That's when I felt something reach through me and embrace me. I felt something holding me up. I felt something comforting me. This force held me until I caught my breath. And, again, I knew that I would find the strength to make it through.<br /><br /><div><br /><br /></div><br />---<br /><br /><br /><br /><h4><br />September 25, 2014</h4><br />At nearly 37 weeks pregnant everything felt like effort. That Thursday was no different. All three kids had school, I had deadlines to meet for work, life wasn't stopping or even pretending to slow down.<br /><br /><br /><br />The kids were zoo-y and Ryan's bus was late, making the girls late for school and me late for a conference call. I fought with Reese. I felt numb. After making it through what felt like the longest morning and afternoon in history, I got to 4 p.m. only to find out that Joe was stuck at work and, of course, I hadn't gone to the grocery store. There was nothing in the house to make for dinner and I was feeling too spent to attempt shopping with all three in tow.<br /><br /><br /><br />Joe got home at 6:30 which is when we normally have dinner on the table, and we left to go to a restaurant nearby. One that we had never been to. The kids were still sideways and shouting and fighting and vying for attention. The adults were exhausted and trying to discuss the offer on the house, the day before, trying to pick up pieces and make them fit. We walked into the restaurant around 7:15 and were seated and then promptly ignored. And when the third drink got knocked over, after the fifth tantrum had started and the fourth toy was thrown in anger, we got up and left. And now it was 7:45 -- just fifteen minutes before bedtime -- and our kids still weren't fed, or bathed, or even home.<br /><br /><br /><br />I called a local pizza place that has a sit down restaurant and placed a dine-in order over the phone. I explained that we had three overtired kids and we would drive around for 15 minutes before coming inside, to avoid pre-meal meltdowns. While trying to place the order my phone dropped the call four times. It seemed as though every part of life was trying to test me. When it rains it pours.<br /><br /><br /><br />We sat down at the booth and the food came out shortly after sitting. Perhaps the only good thing about feeding our brood two hours later than normal was that they were <i>hungry</i> and it was finally <i>quiet</i>. There was so much to talk about in the quiet space, but all we could do was sit expressionless and be thankful that we were almost at the end of another day. We likely looked as hollow as we felt.<br /><br /><br /><br />The waitress came to our table and asked us if we needed anything else, and I told her, "just the check."<br /><br /><br /><br />To which she replied, "it's taken care of."<br /><br /><br /><br />"What?"<br /><br /><br /><br />"That lady sitting over there bought you all dinner, she's almost done with her meal. I thought you'd want to know before she left."<br /><br /><br /><br />I walked over to her table, exhausted, leading with a 9 month belly that surely had tomato sauce underneath in the places you stop being able to see after a while. She was sitting with a near-empty pint of beer, middle-aged, unassuming, married (wearing a ring), but eating alone. I warned her that I was a hugger and that the pregnancy was making me emotional. She said to me, "then let me stand so I can be hugged."<br /><br /><br /><br />She hugged me tightly.<br /><br /><br /><br />I said, "Thank you, thank you, thank you. This has been a hard day, a hard few days, and it's not about money, but thank you."<br /><br /><br /><br />She said, "I know. I love you." I pulled back slightly off-guard. "I love you," she said again. She pulled me back in, tighter this time, and said, "It's okay. I love you."<br /><br /><br /><br />We hugged in the middle of the restaurant for minutes, me crying and her whispering, putting me back together. Then she walked over to the table and said hello to my children who were happily and quietly eating the meal she had just provided us. They chatted with her for a few minutes, she learned all of their names and they told her the random stories that toddlers tell. Then she reached down and squeezed my hand before leaving.<br /><br /><br /><br />After she walked out Reese looked at me and said, "Mommy that lady was really cool."Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09022694079560582497noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192598826979256861.post-35210262262856414362014-11-06T07:30:00.000-08:002015-01-02T20:57:37.360-08:00YOTH yarns and my bees knees buddy Veronika ...<div style="text-align: center;">i am tres excited as this weekend i get to pottle around knitfit. you can find out all about knitfit right <a href="http://knitfit.info/Vendors.html" target="_blank">here</a> if you are local to Seattle and fancy a pottle too. if you are not local you are still most welcome to click on the link and have a moisy because this blog is all inclusive and i would not want any dear reader to hang their head and weep, thinking they cannot click on a link just because they don't live in my neck of the woods.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">i am tres excited because </div><div style="text-align: center;">a) i did not know i was going till recently </div><div style="text-align: center;">b) because although i am not signed up to do any <a href="http://knitfit.info/Class_Descriptions.html" target="_blank">classes</a> all the classes look most worthy of taking</div><div style="text-align: center;">c) the marketplace and the vendors are tippity top yarny quality</div><div style="text-align: center;">and</div><div style="text-align: center;">d) my friend <a href="http://yarnonthehouse.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Veronika</a> will be there launching her yarn into the big wide world</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s8lNHzgx93A/VFqS4PpckyI/AAAAAAAAGnQ/32iRTYS5F-Y/s1600/photo%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s8lNHzgx93A/VFqS4PpckyI/AAAAAAAAGnQ/32iRTYS5F-Y/s1600/photo%2B2.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">i crocheted these fingerless mitts with YOTH yarn kindly gifted to me last christmas by Veronika</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">can i tell you how i met Veronika?</div><div style="text-align: center;">i know some of you have heard mention of her before on this here blog. for you see Veronika crossed my path nearly a year ago when i started <strike>loitering</strike> working at <a href="http://www.toltyarnandwool.com/" target="_blank">Tolt Yarn and Wool</a>. Ve is probably the most beautiful person i have ever seen, i have no idea if she knows this, but she is. well fortunately for me, Ve took me under her knitty wing and slowly but surely departed knowledge of yarns and knitting upon my little cogs. she kindly tolerated my many senior moments of asking the same question exactly a week later and never ever mocked my squares and rectangle ways. i would often offer up my thoughts and where i was going and she would always so very nicely listen patiently and then start her response with the words "that is great, but can i tell you something Tif?" whereupon she would enlighten me.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-M1uaNJWq6XA/VFqTGnru35I/AAAAAAAAGnY/F0DDdyasp7w/s1600/dottie%2Bangel%2Bfringe%2Bassociation%2BTif%2BFussell.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-M1uaNJWq6XA/VFqTGnru35I/AAAAAAAAGnY/F0DDdyasp7w/s1600/dottie%2Bangel%2Bfringe%2Bassociation%2BTif%2BFussell.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">this small miracle of two sleeves and a cardi which actually fits would not have happened if wise ways had not been departed upon me, by my buddy Ve</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;">and so it has come to be, whilst Veronika was saving the likes of me in a yarn shop, she had also quit her cubicle life and decided to follow her dream. a dream filled with yarn and here we are, one year later and she has done it, truly quite extra ordinarily done it! YOTH yarns have been stocked in our wool shop for some time, never staying put for very long, her gradient dyed skeins have literally caused a stampede (well okay, a tres long line but stampede did sound quite thrilling). the company has grown so much so, her yarn line is now <a href="http://yarnonthehouse.blogspot.com/2014/09/maine-new-twist-to-our-yarn.html" target="_blank">dyed in Maine</a>, all staying true to roots she started in her kitchen a few months back. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">YOTH has a <a href="http://yothyarns.com/" target="_blank">webshop</a> too which launched two weeks ago and if you are wondering why the DK weight is called Big Sister and the fingering weight is called Little Brother, well that is because it is exactly what this company is, <a href="http://yothyarns.com/pages/about-us" target="_blank">a big sister and a little brother</a> working alongside of many invisible family members to get a business venture and a dream, off the ground. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">it is quite a remarkable and inspiring story and that is why i am beyond tres excited to pottle around knitfit on sunday and happen upon <a href="http://yothyarns.com/collections/raw-palette" target="_blank">YOTH yarns</a> and see my friend Veronika, in all her glorious yarny surroundings, doing what she does besty best, shining brightly in her own little light, for all to see.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09022694079560582497noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192598826979256861.post-25052851710529509202014-11-03T02:13:00.000-08:002015-01-02T20:45:53.379-08:00All Souls Day<div style="text-align: center;"> The day of the commemoration of all the faithful departed, remembering all the souls in Purgatory, is this year transferred from the 2nd to the 3rd November because the 2nd November was a Sunday. On this day there are three Masses celebrated for the poor souls and they are traditionally celebrated one after the other, going from the last gospel immediately to the prayers at the foot of the altar of the next Mass. It is a lovely tradition and helps to mark the day as special, in the same way that the late night Easter Vigil, or Christmas Midnight Mass highlight the fact that their respective feasts are of some increased importance.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DNXIHsi3ZBA/VFdQyfSj5MI/AAAAAAAAAi0/PSdiK1y7Uig/s1600/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DNXIHsi3ZBA/VFdQyfSj5MI/AAAAAAAAAi0/PSdiK1y7Uig/s1600/1.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The first of the three Masses on Papa Stronsay is a low Mass.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9YRd5lP2rvE/VFdQy01qZJI/AAAAAAAAAi8/IQZKKAHRKUI/s1600/2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9YRd5lP2rvE/VFdQy01qZJI/AAAAAAAAAi8/IQZKKAHRKUI/s1600/2.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> The confrères all receive communion at this Mass. It is a wonderful thing to offer your reception of Holy Communion for the relief of the souls in Purgatory, thus providing them with the helps which they can no longer obtain for themselves.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9UkgwCuFw9M/VFdQyjmk0nI/AAAAAAAAAjE/BCJQKGgmSUE/s1600/3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9UkgwCuFw9M/VFdQyjmk0nI/AAAAAAAAAjE/BCJQKGgmSUE/s1600/3.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> The second Mass is a sung Mass. The mournful chant which Holy Mother the Church has assigned to this Mass help to raise our minds to the plight of the souls in Purgatory and move us to have compassion on them.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0uHD50VJyu8/VFdQ1mPfaSI/AAAAAAAAAjM/KpvVTNdL6JQ/s1600/4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0uHD50VJyu8/VFdQ1mPfaSI/AAAAAAAAAjM/KpvVTNdL6JQ/s1600/4.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">The third Mass is again, a low Mass.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Do not allow this day to pass without thinking of and praying for the holy souls in Purgatory.</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Remember that if you die with one mortal sin on your soul, you will go to hell. This means that the all the souls in Purgatory died in the state of grace, they practised their faith and frequented the sacraments. They are what we might term good people. They will not therefore be forgetful of the assistance which you render them today and during the rest of your pilgrimage on earth and will repay you with their own prayers before the throne of God.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09022694079560582497noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192598826979256861.post-90732059964190551732014-10-31T09:38:00.000-07:002015-01-02T20:57:37.371-08:00macrame, beards, more trickery & way too muchly noting ...<div style="text-align: center;">i am distracted from my path this past week by the need to nest and the need to macrame.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dWQdMLVXBck/VFOxtVoHzdI/AAAAAAAAGmg/QEREEY4IYyY/s1600/222.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dWQdMLVXBck/VFOxtVoHzdI/AAAAAAAAGmg/QEREEY4IYyY/s1600/222.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">the need to nest and the need to macrame is due to the total pants weather which descended upon us in recent weeks.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">therefore the couch has been dragged in from outdoors to indoors and the usual shuffling which entails has left me trying and failing to make things feel cozy without them getting on my nerves a few days later and feeling like i am being attacked from all corners by 'things'. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">i have spent the last few weeks choosing who will stay and who will go and listing furniture on craigslist and every single piece so far has found a nice home which makes me feel muchly happier knowing this. i am hopeful if the weather stops being complete pants for photo taking i may get some knick knacks online but with *the holidays fast approaching, my folks and my clan coming to stay, extra hours at the yarn shop, several interviews to finish up and a makers market to make for, i am thinking this may not happen till the new year. unless passing elves chip in.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">also perhaps, if i didn't distract myself from my path by thinking of macrame and thinking of nesting. for it could be said a pair of curtains at the window would do a grand job of making things feel cozy and warm but nope, i have got it into my head that if i was a little green friend i would wish to hang around in front of this window, safely in macrame wonders with a few other doily clad dingle dangle friends by my side.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-w3TiLDSaSkI/VFOxtvrzapI/AAAAAAAAGmc/cpyiBFpFX5Y/s1600/22.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-w3TiLDSaSkI/VFOxtvrzapI/AAAAAAAAGmc/cpyiBFpFX5Y/s1600/22.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the beginnings of 'the hanging gardens of dottie angel' as quipped by Our #4</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;">my macrame is limited ( understatement of the year ). i am a complete rookie and like most things, i have learnt one thing and will use that one thing to achieve my end. thus i have crafted two macrame ( i use the term loosely ) pot holders, one from yarny goodness and one from embroidery thread goodness. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9m1AQxI6dfc/VFOxtVw5fOI/AAAAAAAAGmY/1-FW97zS6HU/s1600/2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9m1AQxI6dfc/VFOxtVw5fOI/AAAAAAAAGmY/1-FW97zS6HU/s1600/2.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">embroidery thread knotted number</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;">i added some beaded detail to bedazzle close up inspection from macrame experts who may otherwise have been looking at my dubious 'eyeballed' knotting skills.</div><div style="text-align: center;">i then gave up with the macrame side of things because </div><div style="text-align: center;">a) my neck and shoulders were crying. </div><div style="text-align: center;">b) using knotted frayed fabric was far quicker </div><div style="text-align: center;">and </div><div style="text-align: center;">c) what i really wanted was some incredibly knee weakening spanish macrame to miraculously appear and it wasn't.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">darn and drat my impatient crafting ways</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2jqic-df2kY/VFOxvYESVJI/AAAAAAAAGm8/OZXskhW1msQ/s1600/2222.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2jqic-df2kY/VFOxvYESVJI/AAAAAAAAGm8/OZXskhW1msQ/s1600/2222.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">thus i sidetracked myself from my pants macrame ways by dream catchers with beards. </div><div style="text-align: center;">as one does</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bihZqn4ZDnM/VFOxve_LyHI/AAAAAAAAGm0/9eMqudNoepo/s1600/222222.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bihZqn4ZDnM/VFOxve_LyHI/AAAAAAAAGm0/9eMqudNoepo/s1600/222222.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> and went off on yet another path of which i was not supposed to. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AmUWvPIczv8/VFOxvTGUsfI/AAAAAAAAGmw/uJhmfSMMVrw/s1600/22222.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AmUWvPIczv8/VFOxvTGUsfI/AAAAAAAAGmw/uJhmfSMMVrw/s1600/22222.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">pondering beard... to beard or not to beard that is the question</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;">therefore this morn i note i am no nearer to reaching any of my 'to-dos to plan for' listed above* </div><div style="text-align: center;">(did you see that bit of clever trickery? the * trickery? i have a <a href="http://erickaeckles.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">peachy pen pal</a> who does that and i think it most good and muchly brilliant and i have wanted to try it out for a while and so i have and i like it, i like it a whole big lot)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">and may i also make another note?</div><div style="text-align: center;"> a note that has me beyond giddy.</div><div style="text-align: center;">i note, no little green friend has come crashing to the ground... as of yet</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>footynote:</b></div><div style="text-align: center;">and my man notes, if my selling of furniture is backed up by the theory we are no longer a clan of six but three (shortly to be two) and therefore do not require so many places to plonk our dwindling number of bods down, then what will happen come the holidays when seats are required for quite a few derrieres than we have available. i told my man this was a tres good note to be noted but i had done a lot of noting today and therefore was all out of noting for one day</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09022694079560582497noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192598826979256861.post-84280831791467613022014-10-30T11:35:00.000-07:002015-01-02T20:57:37.384-08:00a knitted 1930's neck warmer ...<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">last week i finished off my 1930's knitted neck warmer and already i note i will need more than one, for it has not left my neck since i popped it on. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">when i met my man that night he remarked what a spectacular creation i was wearing. Our #4 asked as we tucked into our meal if i was wearing a knitted bib per chance. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">and indeedy, it is just like a knitted bib, </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">for it covers the neck nicely at the back and drapes down the front to keep the chills at bay across the chest and catch any stray dribbles or crumbs that may come one's way.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yKN8txLCQoo/VFKDX2wTGcI/AAAAAAAAGmA/IxUP_n27w9c/s1600/vvvvv.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yKN8txLCQoo/VFKDX2wTGcI/AAAAAAAAGmA/IxUP_n27w9c/s1600/vvvvv.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">i found this pattern via a lovely instagram dearie who kindly shared with me. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">i printed off the pattern and then went about my merry way trying to figure out what it was all about. for things were not quite adding up to making a whole lot of sense. so i threw caution to the knitty wind, and cast on, for surely how tricky dicky can a glorified knitted rectangle/triangle thing be.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UOESRm1RjPQ/VFKDbv9i9PI/AAAAAAAAGmI/HukCZPdW1gg/s1600/vv.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UOESRm1RjPQ/VFKDbv9i9PI/AAAAAAAAGmI/HukCZPdW1gg/s1600/vv.JPG" height="634" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">you can find the original pattern <a href="http://trove.nla.gov.au/ndp/del/article/118503582?searchTerm=Cowl%20knit%20novel&searchLimits=" target="_blank">here</a> to study, or you can follow what i did below and my modifications to the pattern.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-large;"><b>nitty gritty:</b></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">worsted weight yarn with a drape to it (i used under 2 skeins of cascade 128 superwash in colour 859 which is teal. there was 128 yds on each skein)<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">1 tres large button and 2 tres small buttons<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">knitting pins (i used one size 10 US and one size 9 US because i did not have a matching pair)<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>size:</b> </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">length, 25 inches. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">width across widest part, 11 or 12 inches. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">width across narrowest part, 6 or 7 Inches. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>gauge:</b> </span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">4 sts. to 1 inch in width. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>do not slip the first st. of any row. </b><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-large;"><b>recipe: </b></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">cast on 42 stitches or however many you require to make 11 or 12 inches width.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">work in garter stitch for 2 inches, working into the backs of the stitches on the first row. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">next row: knit 8, cast off 4 (for buttonhole), then complete the row. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">on the following row, knit along to the cast-off stitches then cast on 4, and complete the row. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">next row: knit along to within 3 stitches of the end (working into the backs of the 4 cast-on stitches as you come to them) then knit 2 together, knit 1.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">*work 8 rows of garter stitch</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">next row: (decrease row) </span>knit along to within 3 stitches of the end, knit 2 together, knit 1</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> <o:p></o:p></span> </div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">repeat from * until your work measures 25 inches in length, (or you may prefer to make it a tad shorter) and you have approximately 6 or 7 inches width of stitches on your knitting pin.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">cast off </span>loosely<span style="font-family: inherit;">.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">below are the instructions from the pattern for figuring out placement of the button. i then also attached 2 little ones which pushed through my garter stitch holes quite nicely, because the corner edge was being pesky.</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>"Now try on the scarf, placing the long straight edge round the neck. The point of the sloping edge will fall in front in a V shape if the narrow end of the collar is brought round to the front of the neck, then the buttonhole edge of the wide part brought over the narrow end like a scarf. When the satisfactory position is found, mark the position on the narrow end for the button. If the button is placed about 2 inches from the long straight edge, and about 6 inches from the end, it will be about right." </i></span><span style="font-family: Traveling _Typewriter;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">(and just to clarify, what i have written here are my modifications to a vintage pattern found <a href="http://trove.nla.gov.au/ndp/del/article/118503582?searchTerm=Cowl%20knit%20novel&searchLimits=" target="_blank">here</a>)</span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09022694079560582497noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192598826979256861.post-62899819724073254592014-10-24T11:59:00.000-07:002015-01-02T20:57:37.396-08:00dull trickery ...<div style="text-align: center;">i have been quietly beavering away with Miss Ethel over the past few weeks, none of which, alas, i can show you for it is all tippity top secret squirrel stuff. </div><div style="text-align: center;">i will of course be able to share as and when i am told i can share but for now </div><div style="text-align: center;">i cannot, so i will not.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PKd4c9wurIk/VEqczU8cPcI/AAAAAAAAGlg/B6ymCKD2AFU/s1600/kkk.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PKd4c9wurIk/VEqczU8cPcI/AAAAAAAAGlg/B6ymCKD2AFU/s1600/kkk.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zWlGVo80cg0/VEqcyrDWrWI/AAAAAAAAGlY/PuCJ5Z2hjTo/s1600/kk.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zWlGVo80cg0/VEqcyrDWrWI/AAAAAAAAGlY/PuCJ5Z2hjTo/s1600/kk.JPG" height="640" width="474" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">because of this secretive squirrel stuff taking up muchly part of my crafty life i fear i am quite dull and have nothing to say for myself. </div><div style="text-align: center;">if this is the case then i most apologize for my dull ways and only ever talking about yarn, you will be forgiven if you wish to go home now. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">for those that are staying,</div><div style="text-align: center;">i am happy to announce my terrible case of second sleeve syndrome is over with and a second sleeve has been born. i have no idea if other sleeves are in me to be made, only time will tell.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bHJ8Q6kK4sM/VEqc0ViRBfI/AAAAAAAAGlw/LOEb8J4q-7M/s1600/kkkkk.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bHJ8Q6kK4sM/VEqc0ViRBfI/AAAAAAAAGlw/LOEb8J4q-7M/s1600/kkkkk.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> i cannot tell you how relieved i am to get the <a href="http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/february-lady-sweater" target="_blank">February Lady Sweater</a> off my needles. </div><div style="text-align: center;">can i also tell you, i am not even sure if i like her anymore, i am wondering if we need a little distance between us for a friendship to grow again, for i do love the yarn and colour tres muchly</div><div style="text-align: center;">i have washed her and laid her to dry, this has already made me see her in a new light, perhaps there is hope for us yet.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-k4x-FYcSV2A/VEqcy9NJbVI/AAAAAAAAGlc/_pBhkvoWFAk/s1600/kkkk.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-k4x-FYcSV2A/VEqcy9NJbVI/AAAAAAAAGlc/_pBhkvoWFAk/s1600/kkkk.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> my 'silly billy' backward yarn overs have opened up and a slight lace pattern has appeared. her bell like 3/4 length sleeves are not as 3/4's as i would have liked, they appear to be 1/2 sleeves. no one made me cast off my sleeves the length i did, only me and my impatient ways are to blame. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">i found some jolly nice reproduction vintage buttons but they were rather white, so they spent the afternoon bobbing up and down in the dregs of my man's tea and are now a rather dirty cream colour. of course if i wash them i have no doubt the tea will wash out therefore i will never wash my cardi ever again. i also decided as the edge of the cardi around the neck has a tendency to curl unless it is done up, i will add an edging of vintage ribbon down the inside opening so at least it will look quite peachy rather than pants if the little curl is pesky and persistent.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">on t'other yarny notes, we have reached the time of year tis colder in mossy shed than outside. actually that is any time of year but its super duper noticeable when its cold and wet outside. thus neck warmers are required, for i have a giraffe neck and if i wore my hair down then it would be kept cozy but i do not for my hair attacks me unless it is pinned up in a bird's nest. therefore i have decided i wish to embrace a more utilitarian style of neckwarmer this year. ruffles will not do for what i wish is for it to fit perfectly flat under a coat so no need to be attacked by my knit wear in my shed and when trying to leave my shed. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">i am working on a pattern from the 1930's as i tippity type this. one a nice dearie shared with me, i will share it next week and last night i found another which has a turn down collar which, when a coat is put over the top actually looks just like a cardi collar underneath. i have noted it is made with short rows. yet another new knitty thing to add to my growing knitting repertoire. i just have to find the perfect yarn to use. for neck warmers not only have to do a good job at keeping your neck warm but also a good job at not causing a rash from itchy ways. i would like my rolled neck warmer to be of the tweedy sort, but tweedy can mean scratchy. we have some at the store that are not so, but then they are not the right weight for the pattern and thus it would mean a clever bit of mathematical trickier if i were to convert the pattern to work with a dk and not a bulky.</div><div style="text-align: center;">i am wondering if i am all out of trickery this week.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09022694079560582497noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192598826979256861.post-67631778463443037552014-10-20T11:15:00.000-07:002015-01-02T20:57:37.409-08:00smitten with my mittens ...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4pQSWr0lJcA/VEVMRzPgx4I/AAAAAAAAGko/us1m7xiZBTg/s1600/iiiiiii.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4pQSWr0lJcA/VEVMRzPgx4I/AAAAAAAAGko/us1m7xiZBTg/s1600/iiiiiii.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">darn and double drat, </div><div style="text-align: center;">i cannot find what i am looking for in my archives to share. this will teach me, for i am pants at archiving and thus i am now pants at sharing a link. therefore i will not share a link and just tell you about it instead.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">so last winter Tara Dearie knitted some marvelous mittens (<a href="http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/maize-3" target="_blank">Maize pattern by Tin Can Knits</a>) for our one skein holiday project at <a href="http://www.toltyarnandwool.com/" target="_blank">Tolt Yarn and Wool</a>. well they were mittens of the utmost kind, in green wool no less. before i went on my travels home for the holidays i left a note pinned to them saying if ever they were lonely or looking for a home to be loved, i would surely take them in. upon my return from my homeland, said mittens were waiting for me! Tara had kindly thought they would like to live with me. the rest of the winter i wore them and quite sensibly made a string for them so i did not lose them. i did however spend most of my time getting tangled up especially in the car door because of my safety string. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">between then and now i came across a japanese craft book which had knitted mittens with a jolly bit of embroidery upon them. my heart skipped a beat, i had mitten envy like never before. i have carried the thought of embroidered mittens in my cogs for many a long time. every now and then i revisit the thought, ponder how i would go about such a task and then put my pondering thoughts away again.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">until friday that is, when i had done my sorting out of woolly goodness to wear upon my hands, my head and around my neck these coming chilly days. i put on my green mitts and decided there and then we would risk it for a biscuit. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">first off i removed the string. then i decided to lengthen the wrist bit as it was a tad short for me by adding a few rows of crochet. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-N7kXfjbh8JY/VEVMRYPwFSI/AAAAAAAAGkc/f4ScZtmDU_c/s1600/iiiiii.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-N7kXfjbh8JY/VEVMRYPwFSI/AAAAAAAAGkc/f4ScZtmDU_c/s1600/iiiiii.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">one round single crochet, one round half double crochet and one round picot stitching into every other stitch below (all US crochet terms). </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">i liked it tres muchly and it spurred me on. i rustled around in my stash for leftover yarns in pleasing colours and then i wound little bits around cotton reels to make them even more pleasing.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Rs0MxkwheGk/VEVMODRuumI/AAAAAAAAGkI/EzbxyjbX05s/s1600/ii.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Rs0MxkwheGk/VEVMODRuumI/AAAAAAAAGkI/EzbxyjbX05s/s1600/ii.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">then i decided the key to successful 'twin' embroidery was to work on both mitts at the same time. i cut out a little hand scribbled flower template, pinned in place and did a bit of running stitch around the edge to give me an idea of where i would do my main stitches. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-L47jayRl14s/VEVNqt8BMvI/AAAAAAAAGk4/agVzv1yeIvk/s1600/n.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-L47jayRl14s/VEVNqt8BMvI/AAAAAAAAGk4/agVzv1yeIvk/s1600/n.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">i reversed the template and did the same on the other mitt. then with yarn in hand, i started to fill in the main flower with stem stitches, not particularly uniform, just filling in as i went.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eUs0gC-xi2A/VEVNq68po5I/AAAAAAAAGlA/W2W1WHHgB2k/s1600/nn.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eUs0gC-xi2A/VEVNq68po5I/AAAAAAAAGlA/W2W1WHHgB2k/s1600/nn.JPG" height="640" width="638" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eVMYCfO81Bo/VEVNq4t6mhI/AAAAAAAAGk8/dBuhbyGrKqU/s1600/nnn.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eVMYCfO81Bo/VEVNq4t6mhI/AAAAAAAAGk8/dBuhbyGrKqU/s1600/nnn.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">oh and i must tell this too for those that may well try the same on their mitts. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xI3m9rsEmuc/VEVMOIBprLI/AAAAAAAAGkA/b0LAg03kngA/s1600/i.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xI3m9rsEmuc/VEVMOIBprLI/AAAAAAAAGkA/b0LAg03kngA/s1600/i.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">my mitt insert is all knowing and all seeing but is quite the silent fellow</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">the besty best thing i did was make a cardboard mitt insert, thus i could stitch away with no fear of my needle going through to the other side of my mitt and also keeping my fabric flat to work on.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">i proceeded to carefully fill in my flowers, being sure not to pull tight. after which i pondered where to go, so using couch stitch i went off to the other end of the mitt near the cuff and added a side view of the flower, using the template from before, just chopping off 2 of the petals. once again reversing it for the other mitt and working at the same time. i then did a bit of natty french knotting, long stitches and some little stitches that are like giant single chain stitches and after all that, i stood back after midnight and i was without a doubt, smitten with my mittens.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KXGejTSY7HI/VEVMP91zigI/AAAAAAAAGkQ/2jJ8yjrSNrg/s1600/iiiii.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KXGejTSY7HI/VEVMP91zigI/AAAAAAAAGkQ/2jJ8yjrSNrg/s1600/iiiii.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">i love my mittens so muchly now i fear i cannot wear them out of the shed in case of a loss. i told my man in a fire i would grab my mittens first, he said "what about me?" i told him he was a responsible adult and would need to look out for himself, for my mittens were quite helpless and would need me as they could not move on their own. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-35DV6Q5I3e8/VEVMN7HLkmI/AAAAAAAAGj8/LWDju0yw39A/s1600/iii.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-35DV6Q5I3e8/VEVMN7HLkmI/AAAAAAAAGj8/LWDju0yw39A/s1600/iii.JPG" height="640" width="638" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">i love my mittens so muchly i have pinned them on the wall next to the blue lady so they may be admired by any passing bods. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IEjGgBgARlo/VEVMRh070kI/AAAAAAAAGkg/fp0Oj_AUjtA/s1600/iiiiiiii.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IEjGgBgARlo/VEVMRh070kI/AAAAAAAAGkg/fp0Oj_AUjtA/s1600/iiiiiiii.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">i love my mittens so muchly i fear which of my children will inherit them, will they fight over them, will i have to embroider 4 pairs of mitts to make it fair or wait to see who looks after me best in my old age? </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">i would like to do more embroidery upon knitted goodness, i am thinking thriftstore sweaters would like it too. however i am wondering if this was a moment, a moment when the crafty gods got together and shone down on me, everything aligned perfectly and my crafty hands will never quite be able to live up to this one truly glorious moment in my crafty lifetime .... </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09022694079560582497noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192598826979256861.post-83174944168794623762014-10-19T02:38:00.000-07:002015-01-02T20:45:53.435-08:00Confirmations in Christchurch, New Zealand<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CHE4VBYHUOc/VELg6zQD8eI/AAAAAAAAGyc/a5I1imTNacc/s1600/2%2BChristchurch%2BConfirmation%2B1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CHE4VBYHUOc/VELg6zQD8eI/AAAAAAAAGyc/a5I1imTNacc/s1600/2%2BChristchurch%2BConfirmation%2B1.jpg" height="268" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">On 18 October, His Lordship</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">Most Reverend Basil Meeking, D.D., </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">Emeritus Bishop of Christchurch</span>, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">administered the Holy Sacrament of Confirmation</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">to five young people of our </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Latin Mass Chaplaincy in the Diocese.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sURuNeTDkgM/VELhCDSO4PI/AAAAAAAAGy0/WrScGtyzlAA/s1600/2%2BChristchurch%2BConfirmation%2B4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sURuNeTDkgM/VELhCDSO4PI/AAAAAAAAGy0/WrScGtyzlAA/s1600/2%2BChristchurch%2BConfirmation%2B4.jpg" height="302" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mRw-adg4-sI/VELhH1LV1II/AAAAAAAAGzM/x2OIH7v2eZI/s1600/2%2BChristchurch%2BConfirmation%2B7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mRw-adg4-sI/VELhH1LV1II/AAAAAAAAGzM/x2OIH7v2eZI/s1600/2%2BChristchurch%2BConfirmation%2B7.jpg" height="286" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">After the Confirmations, His Lordship celebrated Holy Mass.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PE22HOFTd0I/VELg_dspNfI/AAAAAAAAGys/fkcIFU1eFE4/s1600/2%2BChristchurch%2BConfirmation%2B3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PE22HOFTd0I/VELg_dspNfI/AAAAAAAAGys/fkcIFU1eFE4/s1600/2%2BChristchurch%2BConfirmation%2B3.jpg" height="400" width="275" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tHQdG48wNgM/VELhDw1iA7I/AAAAAAAAGy8/PgEBbUQDS9o/s1600/2%2BChristchurch%2BConfirmation%2B5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tHQdG48wNgM/VELhDw1iA7I/AAAAAAAAGy8/PgEBbUQDS9o/s1600/2%2BChristchurch%2BConfirmation%2B5.jpg" height="400" width="340" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">...and distributed certificates to those to whom he had imparted the Sacrament!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IVxahziMYbY/VELhGkEHEkI/AAAAAAAAGzE/6F2cIeVVuWY/s1600/2%2BChristchurch%2BConfirmation%2B6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IVxahziMYbY/VELhGkEHEkI/AAAAAAAAGzE/6F2cIeVVuWY/s1600/2%2BChristchurch%2BConfirmation%2B6.jpg" height="387" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KqzSJYP3enU/VELg8k76iCI/AAAAAAAAGyk/fPmlPn5eZWM/s1600/2%2BChristchurch%2BConfirmation%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KqzSJYP3enU/VELg8k76iCI/AAAAAAAAGyk/fPmlPn5eZWM/s1600/2%2BChristchurch%2BConfirmation%2B2.jpg" height="233" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Deo Gratias!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Thank you to Felicity Markholm for so kindly taking the photos!</div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09022694079560582497noreply@blogger.com