tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-144250612024-03-14T02:04:05.047-04:00La Vida DulceAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00469891836497620052noreply@blogger.comBlogger1411125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14425061.post-31219173002115004532015-06-25T14:54:00.002-04:002015-06-25T15:18:37.560-04:00Recycled Robots<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Every fall and spring my dining room becomes an art room for elementary homeschool students. Last semester I had 22 students between the ages of 5 and 12.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">This year I wanted to challenge my 4th-6th graders with a multi-stage project that would be exciting for all students, and use materials (like plaster casting) they wouldn't normally use at home.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I found the Recycled Robots project in the May 2014 edition of <a href="http://artsandactivities.com/" target="_blank">Arts and Activities</a> magazine. I knew this would be a great project that we could do over the course of two weeks. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">At the beginning of the semester I asked the students to begin collecting cracker boxes and paper towel rolls, and things they thought might make our robots interesting. The criteria for the assignment was that it had to show thoughtful craftsmanship and their robots had to stand on their own.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">On the first week they built the bodies by taping the boxes together and making sure they were balanced when standing in an upright position. Then they used plaster casting (<i>hint: find a medical supply store, walk-in or online, and buy plaster bandage rolls used for casting. These were half the price of the same product found in art supply stores.</i>) We found cutting the long strips into 2-4 inch pieces made them easier to handle and gave the kids more control over placement and finishing. This process took the entire 90-minute class period for both classes. One student was finished in an hour. The rest of the students stayed after class for another 15-30 minutes to finish up. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">One thing I didn't think about when I was planning the class was <i>storage</i>. I had a combined total of 9 students in these classes, and each robot was at least a foot tall and just as wide (if not more). The work table in my studio was very full for several weeks! It was a lesson learned for me... next time I'll be a little more strategic about storage space.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The second week we used sliver acrylic (left over from another project) to paint the robots. Once the paint dried the artists were able to take other recycled items such as bottle lids, floppy disks, wire, rope and leftover art supplies from my studio to give their robots character. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I was really proud of the efforts my students showed during the whole process. Initially everyone was very excited about the project. They all jumped in with gusto, but as the construction carried on, a few began to get discouraged. Getting your hands to create what your mind is thinking is a challenge, but it was a great lesson in learning to persevere; to not quit when the going gets tough. I did my best to encourage those whose excitement got buried under the weight of whatever was holding them back, and in the end they all had amazing pieces that they proudly displayed in the spring art show. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">There was a lesson in it for me as well. There are many things I put my hand to, in the studio or in my home, that come easy to me. This is a gift and I am thankful, but when I encounter things I cannot do (or that seem too hard to figure out) instead of choosing perseverance, I often choose to quit. What a shame giving up is! Perseverance, in life and art, holds a gift that cannot be purchased any other way. The outcome might not be what we envisioned... but it might just be <i>better</i>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">xo</span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00469891836497620052noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14425061.post-11720553400443482522015-06-24T14:15:00.000-04:002015-06-25T15:05:28.009-04:00Summer Gifts<br />
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It took a few weeks, but the relief of summer has finally settled in my bones.<br />
<br />
There is still plenty to do, but the pressure is off. My teacher hat has been set aside, and though I am already planning and preparing for next school year, it's in an state of calm that I work.<br />
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It feels good to wake up in the morning having forgot what day it is, and to spend a little more time walking/talking with friends, or planning meals, or having impromptu coffee dates. Summer is delicious and the gift of <i>time</i> feels luxurious. I love the margins... spacious, golden, sweet.<br />
<br />
I spent the afternoon at my friend's farm a few weeks ago. There is always something happening at the farm (and I'm anxious to practice with my new camera lens.) The day I went some of the chicks were hatching. I'd never seen a chick hatch out the egg, all squished and matted, only to puff up into little balls of yellow and brown within 30 minutes of the egg. Amazing.<br />
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My garden is growing well. This year I added a little herb box to the other raised beds. Rosemary, Thyme, Oregano, Sage and Lavender. I bought so many herbs that I had a few left over to plant on my deck as well. I hope to be pulling fresh herb from the garden all year long. For now, they are little plantlings... green and new.<br />
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Grace and I volunteered at VBS last week. I had the privilege to work on the snack team, and Grace was a special buddy to a little girl named Charlotte. Charlotte is darling, and over the last year she and Grace have become great friends.<br />
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I haven't yet had time to really work in the studio, but I did get it cleaned up after a busy semester of art classes. Once I had it tidied I sat in my comfy chair and crocheted a little baby blanket. I used the pattern posted over at <a href="http://littlemonkeyscrochet.com/call-the-midwife-inspired-baby-blanket-free-pattern/" target="_blank">Little Monkeys Crochet</a>. This is the second one I've made. The pattern is really easy and the blankets comes out so nice. I'm not sure yet who the blanket is for, but when the mood strikes to make a baby blanket one just proceeds with abandon... especially in the summer.<br />
<br />
xo<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00469891836497620052noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14425061.post-35354138700294876762015-04-22T11:36:00.000-04:002015-06-25T15:06:48.456-04:00The Melting of Winter <br />
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<i><span class="text Song-2-11" id="en-NIV-17566" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; position: relative;">"See! The winter is past;</span></i></div>
<i></i><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><i><span class="indent-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Song-2-11" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;">the rains are over and gone.</span></span></i></i></div>
<i>
<span class="text Song-2-12" id="en-NIV-17567" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; position: relative;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; left: -4.4em; line-height: 22px; position: absolute; text-align: center; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">12 </span></span></i><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span class="text Song-2-12" id="en-NIV-17567" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; position: relative;"><i style="background-color: transparent;"><span class="text Song-2-12" id="en-NIV-17567" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;">Flowers appear on the earth;</span></i></span></i></div>
<i><span class="text Song-2-12" id="en-NIV-17567" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; position: relative;">
</span><span class="indent-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;"></span></i>
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<i><span class="indent-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;"><i style="background-color: transparent;"><span class="indent-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Song-2-12" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;">the season of singing has come,</span></span></i></span></i></div>
<i><span class="indent-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;">
</span><span class="text Song-2-12" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; position: relative;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<i style="background-color: transparent;"><span class="text Song-2-12" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;">the cooing of doves</span></i></div>
</span><span class="indent-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<i style="background-color: transparent;"><span class="indent-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Song-2-12" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;">is heard in our land.</span></span></i></div>
</span><span class="text Song-2-13" id="en-NIV-17568" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; position: relative;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; left: -4.4em; line-height: 22px; position: absolute; text-align: center; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">13 </span><div style="text-align: center;">
<i style="background-color: transparent;"><span class="text Song-2-13" id="en-NIV-17568" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;">The fig tree forms its early fruit;</span></i></div>
</span><span class="indent-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<i style="background-color: transparent;"><span class="indent-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Song-2-13" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;">the blossoming<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-17568B" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-17568B" title="See cross-reference B">B</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> vines spread their fragrance.</span></span></i></div>
</span><span class="text Song-2-13" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; position: relative;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<i style="background-color: transparent;"><span class="text Song-2-13" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;">Arise, come, my darling;</span></i></div>
</span><span class="indent-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<i style="background-color: transparent;"><span class="indent-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Song-2-13" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;">my beautiful one, come with me.”</span></span></i></div>
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<i><span class="indent-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="text Song-2-13" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">~<span style="font-size: x-small;">Song of Solomon 1:11-13</span></span></span></span></span></i></div>
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<i><span class="indent-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="text Song-2-13" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;"><br /></span></span></span></span></i></div>
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<span style="line-height: 24px;">Spring has sprung all around, but my heart still holds winter. It's been hard to shake the ice from the cobwebs of my thinking. </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 24px;">Not that there has been great crises, or catastrophic events that hold me hostage. But often neglected little things sneak in and stir up grief: A friend moving far away; Children who expand their wings in prep for flight; Unexpected news that seems unfair. And then, there's that thorn in the flesh-- that </span><i style="line-height: 24px;">one thing</i><span style="line-height: 24px;"> that doesn't always sit noticed at the front (which makes you think you've licked it.) Just when you aren't paying attention, you find you're back for a refresher course-- a humbling reminder that you are not your own. </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 24px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 24px;">In the midst of these things, I cling to what comes so natural to me: <i>distraction</i>. Busy-ness, Facebook, Netflix. Self. Barren places that carry no seeds for life. </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 24px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 24px;">So spring came late to my heart. </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 24px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 24px;">Over the years, in order to avoid pain (big or small, I deal with it all the same,) distractions looked different, and perhaps I assumed they were more significant: too much exercise, over-focus on food, self-medicating, tight scheduling. But all distractions do the same thing: they keep our focus off of the One who gently calls: <i>come to me</i>. </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 24px;">He calls, and though I know the freedom of His garden, the distractions render me lazy. I no longer remember <i>with clarity</i> the joy set before me. I've settled for much, much less.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 24px;">What's more? Only He sees the depths of my heart, where beauty doesn't reign, </span><i style="line-height: 24px;">still he calls,</i><span style="line-height: 24px;"> "my beautiful one, come." Which humbles me all the more. </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 24px;">Stubborn pride, deliberate disfunction, and unlovely places in the heart… and he calls out <i>beautiful</i>. Why wouldn't I </span><i style="line-height: 24px;">run</i><span style="line-height: 24px;"> when He offers freedom in the garden of His truth? I need only the <i>willingness</i> to get up and go; to do what is not natural to me and set aside distractions. Let Him into the pain, He will do the rest. </span><span style="line-height: 24px;">Only God can plant the seeds that give life (and healing) to the soul. Here on earth and in heaven. </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 24px;">The winter of my heart has just begun to melt and it started with a call: "Come, my beautiful one, come with me."</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00469891836497620052noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14425061.post-14953557392275695472014-11-17T14:49:00.001-05:002014-11-18T07:44:18.459-05:00Thoughts on a Candlelit Monday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This morning a winter rain falls on the heels of a polar wind. The last of wet leaves fall from their branches. A heavy fog has settled in our corner of the piney woods. My heart feels heavy too. The weather forces me to stillness. </div>
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It's often the "little things" in life that interrupts focus from Truth and knocks me off-course. These days I find myself in new emotional territory as a mom. As usual I feel out of my depth. In truth, it's less about them, and more about me. Pride isn't easy to set down. Sadly, trusting never comes easy. For me, it is always<i> the hard way.</i></div>
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In an attempt to comfort myself with the warmth of a cozy home I light candles, and the flame sparks a memory:</div>
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<i>I will lead the blind by ways they have not known, along unfamiliar paths I will guide them. I will turn the darkness into light before them and make the rough places smooth. These are the things I will do. I will not forsake them. (Isaiah 42:16)</i></div>
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Like the strike of a match it flares: gratitude for promises given, and promises kept. We're not meant to walk in foreign lands alone. He brings the light, He will do it. <a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Exodus+14:14&version=NIV" target="_blank">"You need only to be still."</a></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00469891836497620052noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14425061.post-51148975849296640992014-11-12T12:09:00.002-05:002014-11-12T12:09:43.436-05:00Taking it In<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Mark+10%3A17-29&version=NIV" target="_blank">"Jesus looked at him and loved him." - Mark 10:21</a><br />
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There once was a rich young man who had every thing on earth he could possibly desire. But when the Savior of the world looked in his eyes, <i>and</i> <i><b>loved</b></i> <i>Him</i>, that rich young man missed what he needed most of all.<br />
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I've read this story so many times: perched upon the edges of small beds while tucking brown headed children in for the night; studying with like-minded women who seek comfort for their weary hearts; enfolded in quilts, on cold winter mornings, while candles burn and coffee brews.<br />
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I've read it, but this week those six little words have fallen like whispers on readied ears: "<i>Jesus looked at him and loved him." </i>And I wonder, am I missing what I need the most because my focus is wrong? Am I staring in the face of The Loveliest of All, and yet still considering what else I should do?<br />
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<i>He looks at me, and he loves me? </i><br />
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It's shocking, even after all these years.<br />
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This week has brought some <i>amazing</i> color to our little corner of the Carolina's. The trees are in full display and the sunsets have set my heart on the beauty of God's creative world. Several times I have been <i>unable</i> to adhere to the agenda; I've literally pulled off the road just to take it all in.<br />
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Golden leaves and fire skies. A walk in the woods with my man at my side. The beaming smile of a cowgirl at the end of the day. When I see these radiant displays of His glory, I can't help but ponder "<i>he looks at us,</i> <i>and he love us… go and follow Him."</i><br />
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Isn't that what we all want, to be seen (<i>truly known!)</i> and <i>loved</i> anyway? With God that<a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Mark%2010%3A17-29&version=NIV" target="_blank"> <i>is possible</i>.</a> He promises it is so...<br />
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<i>"Teach me, LORD, the way of your decrees, that I may follow it to the end." ~<a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Psalm+119%3A33-40&version=NIV" target="_blank">Psalm 119:33</a></i></div>
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<i><br /></i>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00469891836497620052noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14425061.post-90950903880443680372014-11-07T10:11:00.000-05:002014-11-07T11:38:58.121-05:00The Little House on the Hill: Gifts Recieved <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This week has been full, and I am grateful to have had the time to
contemplate and rest. We've had our share of hurts and hangups, but
we've had <i>more</i> than our fair share of grace. I thought I'd share a few of gifts I've been given this week:<br />
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~The time change. It changes more than just the minutes. It changes how I view them. The back yard is flooded with brilliant light that I would have missed just a week ago. Gaining an hour slows my pace and lengthens my thinking. There are still only 24 hours in the day, but something magical happens when the clock "falls back," allowing more time to enjoy beautiful warmth on a cool morning.<br />
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~ On Saturdays the people of this house scatter. It's very rare that we are all here, all day. Last weekend was the first weekend in so many months that we were all home. The Boy had a friend here, so I made a big pot of Albondiga soup and warmed up the tortillas. It had been so long since we had had a sit-down lunch together, it just made me happy. We still have dinner together most nights of the week, but there is something special about breaking <strike>bread</strike> tortillas together when it isn't the normal way. It felt like a gift, and I'm thankful.<br />
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~I've <a href="http://coffeegal.blogspot.com/2011/12/rose-i-have-in-mind.html" target="_blank">written about the Camellia before</a>, but her pink face shines when the cold winds blows in, and I'm thankful for the beauty of a creative God. My Camellia is heavy with blossom, a gift I always forget is coming.<br />
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~Our sweet Holland Lop, <a href="http://coffeegal.blogspot.com/2010/03/pretty-as-penny.html" target="_blank">Penny</a>, found a new home this week. We brought Penny home in March 2010, and she has really been a great pet. But as The Girl has gotten older and more involved with school and outside activities (not to mention the time her puppy takes to be cared for) poor Penny wasn't getting the attention she craved and deserved. We have a friend we met at The Barn, and she raises rabbits and shows them each year at different farming venues. We are so thankful for the gift of Penny, and we are relieved to know she will not only be given basic needs, but the attention and love we want her to have. <br />
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~My heart was craving extra solace this week. Not because of any particular burden I carry, or sadness that dwells, but because the changes of weather and time always turn my thoughts deeper. So I went to the website of our church in Fort Worth, Texas, <a href="http://www.ccbcfamily.org/" target="_blank">Christ Chapel Bible Church</a>. That body of believers holds a special place in my heart because I "grew up" there. I walked with the Lord through the deepest of sorrows, supported by that body, and as a result, my relationship with the Lord was changed for the better. I gathered strength in the Lord like I've never done before or since, and to this day I am grateful.<br />
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With all that said, I found myself digging through the archives of past sermons and found the #worthitall sermon series on the topic of suffering. If you are suffering, if you know someone who is suffering, or ever just wonder why suffering seems to mark our lives when we serve a God who has self-proclaimed to be good... please watch this series. The first sermon is entitled <a href="http://www.ccbcfamily.org/sermon/disneyland/" target="_blank">Only At Disneyland</a>. Start with that one, and the link will direct you to the others. I'd recommend printing out the sermon sheets too. The whole series is a gift.<br />
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~ I'm so grateful to have shared a cup of tea (and a heaping dose of prayer) in my studio with my BritishBFF. My heart is full. In about six months time she'll pack up her blond headed family and move across the pond after nearly seven years of American living. The mix of feelings in my heart is more than I can write, but I'm <i>thankful </i>for this kindred spirit... and that we have already established Skype accounts. <br />
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~This week I had a conversation with a different friend to clear up a misunderstanding where I was at fault. I'm so <i>thankful </i>for God's grace, and that there are those who <i>willingly and lavishly, </i>extend grace when it's asked for.<br />
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These are just a few of the gifts I've received this week in the Little Yellow House on the Hill. Oh, that my eyes never dull, and I see many more...<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00469891836497620052noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14425061.post-61557975056935891532014-11-03T09:50:00.006-05:002014-11-03T09:51:35.320-05:00Just In Time<br />
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We had a cool day at the end of August that turned my focus to fall. I began to dream of sitting under a soft warm afghan with hot beverages in my hand.<br />
<br />
Last year, with a few bucks in my pocket, I made an impromptu stop at the craft store. This is almost always the perfect storm for random purchasing of yarn. I came home with an (overflowing) armful of jewel-tone colored yarn, and a pound of stark white. And it sat on a shelf, for over a year, just waiting for inspiration to strike.<br />
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Sometimes, when I'm avoiding the laundry, or really any calling of the domestic life, I browse the inter webs for crochet inspiration.<br />
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It happened on that late August day, when the scent of fall came subtly on the wind. I found the recipe for my not-forgotten yarn: <a href="http://www.purlbee.com/2012/11/15/whits-knits-bears-rainbow-blanket/" target="_blank">Purl Soho's Bear Rainbow Blanket.</a><br />
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The squares stitched up easily, though I did slightly change the corner stitches on the outside border of each square.<br />
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When I had the color part of the squares done, I didn't like the stark white, so I marched back to the store for something soothing and soft. I found a creme color that fit the bill.<br />
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This weekend I wasn't feeling well, still battling a chest cold I've battled for over a month. But my art classes were finished, and it was a good weekend to shut things down and sit a spell. So I rested and stitched putting squares together; tucking in yarn tails while the cold November air settled outside. In total it took eight weeks to complete, but she is finished just in time.<br />
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She might be my favorite afghan so far.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00469891836497620052noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14425061.post-71152136396065631252014-10-01T16:03:00.002-04:002014-10-01T16:03:28.040-04:00Octoberish<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Things are feeling decisively Octoberish, which is just fine with me.<br />
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September felt like a rush of happy events. All good things, but I'm certainly ready for some Octoberish rest.<br />
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We started September with one last trip to the sea. A birthday celebration of a dear friend, and a chance to getaway with two other couples. We stayed in a condo right on the beach. Lovely, is all I can say. It was the first time we had left our now BIG-kids at home and they did great. Oh! how far we have come from those early days on this blog. {<i>Wow, just went back to archives, 9 years ago… that truly was <a href="http://coffeegal.blogspot.com/2005/08/confessions-of-grade-school-mother.html" target="_blank">Confessions of a Grade School Mom</a>. I can tell you, that was the </i>last time<i> I've had a hard-lemonade (yuck!)… I can tell you my </i>m&m<i> habits have not changed. But those sweet babies… whew! I'm quickly approaching that target-shopping mama… but that's for another day.</i>}<br />
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When we got home from the beach it was time to start teaching art, which I really enjoy. I will admit, teaching two full days a week has been an adjustment. I've had to re-learn how to manage the home, school, and extra curricular activities while "working." But when my little artists are sitting at my table, it feels like a privilege.<br />
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Special Olympics Equestrian Tournament is also a September event. This year The Girl was old enough to be a youth volunteer. I hope to sit down in a few days to post my thoughts on this year's events, but I can tell you this: spending a weekend with the riders, families, and volunteers working diligently for one goal is an amazing experience. It is long and hard work, but getting to share in the joy of others is a <i>valuable </i>gift, and far exceeds the effort. More on that to come…<br />
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Before we could wash the horse dust from our chaps it was time to dive into birthday celebrations for my <i>seventeen</i> year-old. Seventeen sounds so old, and honestly, I've struggled. It is hard for me to sit in the moment today, without thinking about the tomorrows. But I'm learning to keep my mind steadfast<br />
on the gifts given right now. So we celebrated The Boy (who is quickly becoming a man)<br />
with cake, and friends, and lots of love. It was a great birthday!<br />
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This month also brought a change in the air, and on the trees. Everything is getting ready to show their color before a long winters rest. I love to watch the change from day to day.<br />
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September has been full and hearty, and October feels like a good time to rest.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00469891836497620052noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14425061.post-66612806745736943942014-08-31T14:54:00.000-04:002014-08-31T14:54:58.222-04:00A Work in Process: The Studio<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My studio is shaping up as I prepare for a new year of teaching art.<br />
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Earlier this month I walked into a local consignment shop and had a <i>love-at-first-sight moment</i> with an antique breakfast hutch. I wanted to take her home then and there, but I hemmed and hawed (and hemmed some more) and waited three weeks to bring her home. I have to be honest, I don't do this sort of thing with furniture and home goods, but in two weeks I will have nearly 20 students coming to the house each week for art class. I needed some place to store supplies.<br />
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Now I can't imagine what I did without it. I love to just sit and look at the shelving and am very thankful to have a home for the endless supply of paper and paints in the cupboards and drawers of this beautiful hutch.<br />
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Of course, this new piece of furniture required a complete overhaul of the studio. I threw out/gave away over 10 bags of scrap fabric, leftover yarn, crayons, used paper, stickers, decade-old scrapbooking supplies, patterns, dried paint, empty markers, chewed up pencils, and sorted through several years of Christmas cards sent to us over the last 2 decades. Whew! it was a crazy three days… but, I am so happy to have an organized space; to have the WHOLE table to work on! {swoon}<br />
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The minute everything was in place I wanted to play, but I also didn't want to mess things up too much. I chose the least messy project to start: crochet. I re-opened my <a href="https://www.etsy.com/shop/Coffeegal" target="_blank">Etsy shop </a>(after a two-year hiatus) and listed my Blue Flowered Cowl and the Vintage Lace Wrap for sale. Then I made a blanket for a new baby at our church, based on a free pattern inspired by <a href="http://littlemonkeyscrochet.com/call-the-midwife-inspired-baby-blanket-free-pattern/" target="_blank">Call the Midwife</a>. The pattern was simple and easy to follow, and I finished it quickly. When it was done I decided I needed to try my hand (again) at a Japanese pattern for a scarf. My favorite thing about that scarf is the name of the pink yarn: <i>Rosalinda</i>. (I pick my nail polish based on names too.) In the end, I'll wear it, but it is too short---which is what sometimes happens when you are using scrap yarn.<br />
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When Rosalinda was finished, I was "in the zone" and my crochet hook would not be put down. So I found this post on <a href="http://www.mooglyblog.com/ups-and-downs-crochet-slouchy-beanie/" target="_blank">Moogly for a hat using a QuadTr</a> (who knew?) to make really cool looking braids. By the end of last week, I had made one in Paloma Grey, and another in Oatmeal. This afternoon I have started a <a href="http://byhaafner.blogspot.com/2013/08/pattern-popcorn-blanket.html" target="_blank">Popcorn Blanket square</a>, though I'm not sure I'll make a whole blanket, I'd like to see how this pattern works out. That, my friends, is how you spell c-r-o-h-e-t--c-r-a-z-y. But, I'm using up a drawer full of yarn and I'm grateful for this last summer whirl of creative fiber art. Soon it will be time to haul out the paints and have fun with my students. Can't wait!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00469891836497620052noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14425061.post-18384492355074067692014-07-14T21:25:00.004-04:002014-07-14T21:40:12.214-04:00The Tale of Two Sandwiches<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
One of the things I love about cooking this time of the year is The Sandwich.</div>
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These two sandwiches have been on my dinner rotation a lot this summer: <i>The No Mayo Chicken Salad </i>and <i>The Grilled Veg and Cheese. </i></div>
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Let me tell you about them…</div>
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<b>The No-Mayo Chicken Salad Sandwich</b></div>
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You may have heard this before, but <a href="http://coffeegal.blogspot.com/2006/05/happy-cinco-de-mayo.html" target="_blank">I'm not a fan of mayo</a>. I know, <i>I know</i>. I have lived in the south long enough to know that dissing on the mayo is kin to sacrilege, but I just can't help it. There is nothing that will bring on the heeby-jeebies faster than seeing mayo being spread on something delicious. It's just <strike>disgusting</strike> <i>not my thing</i>. So you might imagine that a chicken salad sandwich would not be high on my list of eating pleasure. However, I do like the chicken salad alternative, <a href="http://www.briannassaladdressing.com/products/rich-poppy-seed/" target="_blank">Brianna's Poppy Seed</a> dressing, which is not only vegan* and delicious, but blessedly mayo free. </div>
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And let me tell you, take some chicken breast and chop it up, throw some poppy seed dressing on it (I like mine on the dry side,) add some slivered almond and chopped grapes, and you will not be disappointed. </div>
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Let me say it again, <i>you will not be disappointed</i>.</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">*I'm not a vegan but I have an Eater in the house who cannot have any dairy. </span></div>
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<b>The Grilled Veg and Cheese</b></div>
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Let me apologize in advance for this picture. The day I made this dinner I'd already entered The Hangry Zone. Every once in awhile the Stomach makes the Blogger care very little for staged photos. In the end, it doesn't really matter. This sammy is so good, it doesn't need a focused picture. I won't say anything more, except to give you the recipe. (But really, it's a <i>nice</i> sandwich…and <span style="font-size: xx-small;">also mayo free</span>.)</div>
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What you'll need:</div>
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A pound of zucchini, cut 1/8 inch thick, diagonally</div>
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3-4 slices red onion, cut 1/8 inch thick</div>
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1 red bell pepper, seeded and quartered ( I used mini bell's cut in half and used both red and yellow)</div>
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1 large tomato, not too ripe, cut 1/8 inch thick</div>
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2 Tbls Balsamic Vingar</div>
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1tsp extra- virgin olive oil</div>
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1/2 tsp salt</div>
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1/4 tsp freshly ground black pepper</div>
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1.5 cup salad greens</div>
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5 ounces fresh mozzarella</div>
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6-8 fresh basil leaves</div>
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Single serving T<a href="http://www2.costco.com/Browse/Product.aspx?prodid=11739259&whse=BD_578&topnav=bdoff" target="_blank">orta bread</a> (pictured) or 1-pound loaf ciabatta bread, cut in half horizontally</div>
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Mix up the vinegar, oil, salt and pep, in a mixing bowl. Toss veg in bowl with mixture. </div>
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Spray grill with cooking spray, and light her up. Grill veg until tender (about 7 minutes) reserving leftover vinegar mixture. </div>
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When veg is done, build your sandwich… layer cheese, basil, veg, greens, and drizzle reserved vinegar. Cover with top of bread, press lightly. Place filled sandwich on grill rack for 4 minutes or until cheese begins to melt. Cut in half (or in quarters if using large loaf). Eat!</div>
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Happy sandwich making!</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00469891836497620052noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14425061.post-86833030251378170602014-07-10T16:07:00.001-04:002014-07-10T16:09:53.555-04:00Summer at The Little Yellow House on the Hill<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's hard to believe summer is more than halfway finished. The good news is that there are still 28 days left!<br />
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So far, we have had just the right amount of summer fun. You know, that sweet spot between<i> summer is boring,</i> and, <i>what was I thinking when I planned this much? </i>Either end of the spectrum is really tough, but that middle part? Yeah, it's good.<br />
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The Boy has been working as a lifeguard for a country club nearby, and The Girl has been taking full time care of that sweet puppy (whom we all adore, in case I hadn't mentioned it.) They both have had sleep-overs, swim meets, Netflix marathons, and lots of time with friends, which is exactly how it should be when the days are long and warm.<br />
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I've been on a major clean up here in the <i>Little Yellow House on the Hill</i>. We haven't moved in six years, and our accumulation was getting ridiculous. I can't stand the clutter, and I haven't done any deep cleaning (of significance) since last summer. I have been systematically going through each room, cleaning up and scrubbing down. I've been to our local Donation Center about five times in the last 10 days. It feels so good to clear space and get things sparkling again. Whew! Its like being able to breathe fresh air after a long time under a blanket.<br />
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I've also been working on a project with The Girl. We've been making art journals with the help of this book: <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Creating-Art-Speed-Life-Mixed-Media/dp/1596688769" target="_blank">Creating Art and the Speed of Life</a>. We've completed the first three lessons (out of 30) and we are enjoying the time to be creative together. We won't finish before summer is out, so we will use it as part of her art curriculum next school year.<br />
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Speaking of school, I spent most of June preparing curriculum, and organizing for next year. We are ready… but it has been an adjustment coming to grips that our little school house will have only one student. The Boy will head to public school for his last two years of High School. He has been accepted to a program where he can earn some college credit while finishing out school. It is a great program and he is ready. The Mister and I are so excited for him, but the realities of my changing job description haven't come without some growing pains. It is hard to let go in these later teenage years. And this is just the beginnings…<br />
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Thank goodness there is much to keep me distracted… for instance, the neighborhood flowers. I am surprised every summer by the Hibiscus my neighbor keeps in her front yard. Each year she tireless works on her side of the hill, and each year it gets better and better. I'm thankful to enjoy her labor! The Hydrangeas are also so amazing this time of year, and thankfully I have a dear friend who lets me come to her farm to snap pictures anytime I want… and when I do, she'll most likely have hot tea and warm cookies to share. I should have taken pictures of her and those cookies… next time.<br />
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We still have so much to look forward to in the coming weeks. We will take a short trip north to visit dear friends before we all head back to school. And I've got a pile of books I'm plowing through (it feels so GOOD to read multiple books in one week.)<br />
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I'm sure in 29 days I'll be glad to have routine and structured order to my days, but so far this summer feels just right.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00469891836497620052noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14425061.post-30954145682741388612014-06-05T20:37:00.002-04:002014-06-06T07:23:59.023-04:00Snap It: Proverbs 31 Online Bible Study Blog Hop<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span class="text Rom-8-15-Rom-8-17" id="en-MSG-12051">I waited patiently for the Lord,</span></div>
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<span class="text Rom-8-15-Rom-8-17" id="en-MSG-12051">he turned to me and heard my cry. </span></div>
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<span class="text Rom-8-15-Rom-8-17" id="en-MSG-12051">He lifted me out of the slimy pit,</span></div>
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<span class="text Rom-8-15-Rom-8-17" id="en-MSG-12051">out of the mud and mire;</span></div>
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<span class="text Rom-8-15-Rom-8-17" id="en-MSG-12051">He set my feet upon a rock,</span></div>
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<span class="text Rom-8-15-Rom-8-17" id="en-MSG-12051">and gave me a firm place to stand.</span></div>
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<span class="text Rom-8-15-Rom-8-17" id="en-MSG-12051">He put a new song in my mouth,</span></div>
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<span class="text Rom-8-15-Rom-8-17" id="en-MSG-12051">A hymn of praise to our God. </span></div>
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<span class="text Rom-8-15-Rom-8-17" id="en-MSG-12051"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">(Psalm 40:2-3)</span> </span></div>
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<span class="text Rom-8-15-Rom-8-17" id="en-MSG-12051"> Psalm 40 is a favorite of mine. About a year ago, early in the morning, while all was quiet but the lapping of the sea, I memorized these words. He tended my heart through His beauty set before me. The water, the clouds, the brilliant sun. His glory, my joy. </span><br />
<span class="text Rom-8-15-Rom-8-17" id="en-MSG-12051"><br /></span>
<span class="text Rom-8-15-Rom-8-17" id="en-MSG-12051">It amazes me that the God who tends to all the earth, and <i>everything </i>in it, is the <i>same </i>God who redeems my life from the pit, who sets my feet on solid ground. </span><br />
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<span class="text Rom-8-15-Rom-8-17" id="en-MSG-12051">The pits of life will come, be it the ones we hastily dig ourselves, or the ones in which we are shoved. In the end, it doesn't really matter. </span><span class="text Rom-8-15-Rom-8-17" id="en-MSG-12051">There is mercy in the pit, and we aren't meant to live there. </span><span class="text Rom-8-15-Rom-8-17" id="en-MSG-12051">Pits of any kind give us the opportunity to remember Who we belong</span><span class="text Rom-8-15-Rom-8-17" id="en-MSG-12051"> to, and to call out "Abba!"</span><span class="text Rom-8-15-Rom-8-17" id="en-MSG-12051"> He will come, and lift us up, and give us solid ground to stand.</span><br />
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<span class="text Rom-8-15" id="en-ESV-28116"><sup class="versenum"> </sup>For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, “Abba! Father!”</span> <span class="text Rom-8-16" id="en-ESV-28117"><sup class="versenum">16 </sup>The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God,</span> <span class="text Rom-8-17" id="en-ESV-28118"><sup class="versenum">17 </sup>and if children, then heirs—heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him. (Romans 8: 15-17)</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00469891836497620052noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14425061.post-21839419513386906672014-06-04T08:34:00.000-04:002014-06-04T08:40:49.565-04:00Summer: It's Just the First Week<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's delicious, this time of year, when the whole summer is set before us. As I type, I have (officially) been on summer vacation for about a week.<br />
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I've already dipped my toes in the Atlantic with a handful of friends. I took the puppy to the river for her first swim, and met (<i>from afar, but still too close for comfort</i>) one of my least favorite woodland creatures. Isn't it bad enough that Copperheads are slithery and poisonous? And now they swim? Ridiculous.<br />
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I wrapped up my last art class with my 3rd-5th grade girls. I cannot express how much I liked working with this group of girls. They are fun, sweet, and talented. They jumped into every project with excitement, and encouraged one another the whole way through. I just enjoyed being with them.<br />
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The day after the class ended, I received a book The Mister gave to me at Christmas. <u>The Charlie Harper Coloring Book of Birds</u> had been on back order for 6 months, but it came just on time. I cannot wait to decide how I am going to work Harper's art into next years curriculum.<br />
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Yesterday I took The Girl and her friend to the pool and they asked if I would take their picture while they flipped there wet hair back. It only took 147 shots (give or take a 100) to catch the double-flip action, but it made for some great fun, and I got to sit pool side on a lovely morning snapping away with my camera. Win-win.<br />
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The Boy started his new job as a lifeguard at a Country Club in our neighborhood. Because I do not belong to that club, and sixteen year old boys tend to frown on their mothers visiting them at work to take pictures, I did what any logical mother would do: I went <i>covert. </i>Which means I convinced my husband to drive me around the backside of the club, so I could lug my big old camera and snap away like some international spy. It would have all gone as planned, except I didn't count on their being <i>two</i> life guards. Apparently, the second guard, located just on the other side of that chain-link fence (<i>but whom I did not see</i>) took notice of the crazy person snapping pictures from a car through the gate. I may, or may not, have freaked out the second life guard (<i>so much for covert</i>.) But I got the shot I was looking for, and when The Boy got home and said that his shift was great, "except for when some weird person was taking pictures through the gate." I shook my head and said, "Huh, that is a little crazy."<br />
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So it starts. The days when the calendar has a few beautiful blank spaces left to breathe. And I get the opportunity to enjoy my family, my friends, and my home. It's gonna be a good summer...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00469891836497620052noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14425061.post-36989290752214745262014-05-29T09:00:00.002-04:002014-05-29T09:19:39.004-04:00Valley Living (Blog Hop with Proverbs 31 Online Bible Study)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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"I will set pines in the</div>
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wasteland,</div>
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the fir and the cypress</div>
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together,</div>
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so that the people may see and</div>
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know,</div>
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may consider and</div>
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understand,</div>
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that the hand of the Lord</div>
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has done this,</div>
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the Holy One of</div>
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Israel has created it." </div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">~Isaiah 41:17-20</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">I grew up in the Tucson valley, a desert dweller from birth. On every side of our dusty town stood stately mountains in shades of purple and blue. My heart favored</span> the range to the north, with her familiar jagged peaks and her promise of green trees and cooler weather. In 30 minutes you could drive up her climbing road, leaving the prickly wasteland for the comfort of "real trees" on (what felt like) the top of the world. The scripture above reminds me of the desert, and the respite in the mountains for those who live in the valley.</div>
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Living as a desert dweller in the valley wasn't difficult. But it was sometimes hard. After all, there is the heat, and the thorns, and the slithery animals. Seasons don't change with significant signs of showy bloom or vast changes in temperature. Occasionally the winds blow storms in, covering everything in dust, while prayers for rain are whispered.<br />
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As far as the calendar is concerned there are four seasons, but in the desert, seasonal variant is not a pendulum given to sway. It's range, in temperature and color, is subtle at best. The desert valley has a beauty of it's own, but you mustn't look too closely, lest you get poked. So, when I was young, I would look to the mountains and pine away, for a life lived on mountain tops.</div>
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And so it is spiritually, when I find myself in a season of dryness; when the work is tough and dry winds make vision fuzzy. </div>
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King David, long before he wore a crown, tended sheep in a valley. He toiled and cared, and waited on the Lord. He had brothers who thought him too small, and his work not important.Yet, with his eyes on the Lord, he did what he was called to do. And when the time came for him to fight a giant named Goliath, it was David's strength in the Lord that won. </div>
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The Bible is full of lessons in the valley. There is battle and beauty there-- a breeding ground for dependance on the Lord. It is Him alone who quenches our thirst when living in arid lands. When the day is long and the scenery the same; when unrelenting heat presses in and discouragement settles in like so much dust, we can remember our True Strength, and cling to Him. He is the same God who turned a <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Hosea+2%3A+14-15&version=NIV" target="_blank">Valley of Trouble to a door of hope</a>.<span style="font-size: xx-small;"> </span> He can do that with our valleys too.</div>
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Twenty years ago I moved from the desert, to a little yellow house set in the piney woods, but He's never called me out of the valley. I can visit the mountaintops for refreshment and rest, but my strength is born when I focus on Him in the battles and beauty of valley living. </div>
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<a class="passage-parallel-button" href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Psalm%20121&version=MSG;NIV" rel="nofollow"></a><br />
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Psalm 121 </h3>
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<span class="chapter-3"><span class="text Ps-121-1-Ps-121-2"><sup class="versenum mid-line"> </sup>I look up to the mountains;</span></span><br />
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<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-121-1-Ps-121-2">does my strength come from mountains?</span></span><br />
<span class="text Ps-121-1-Ps-121-2">No, my strength comes from <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">God</span>,</span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-121-1-Ps-121-2">who made heaven, and earth, and mountains.</span></span></div>
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<span class="text Ps-121-3-Ps-121-4" id="en-MSG-6727">He won’t let you stumble,</span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-121-3-Ps-121-4">your Guardian God won’t fall asleep.</span></span><br />
<span class="text Ps-121-3-Ps-121-4">Not on your life! Israel’s</span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-121-3-Ps-121-4">Guardian will never doze or sleep.</span></span></div>
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<span class="text Ps-121-5-Ps-121-6" id="en-MSG-6728"><sup class="versenum"> </sup><span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">God</span>’s your Guardian,</span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-121-5-Ps-121-6">right at your side to protect you—</span></span><br />
<span class="text Ps-121-5-Ps-121-6">Shielding you from sunstroke,</span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-121-5-Ps-121-6">sheltering you from moonstroke.</span></span></div>
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<span class="text Ps-121-7-Ps-121-8" id="en-MSG-6729"><sup class="versenum"> </sup></span><span class="text Ps-121-7-Ps-121-8" id="en-MSG-6729"><sup class="versenum"> </sup><span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">God</span> guards you from every evil,</span><br />
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<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-121-7-Ps-121-8">he guards your very life.</span></span><br />
<span class="text Ps-121-7-Ps-121-8">He guards you when you leave and when you return,</span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-121-7-Ps-121-8">he guards you now, he guards you always.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Ps-121-7-Ps-121-8">(MSG) </span></span></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00469891836497620052noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14425061.post-10287547081453001142014-05-27T19:07:00.001-04:002014-05-27T19:15:21.990-04:00Coastal Getaway<br />
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We found a sleepy coastal town to spend one day and one night together. A celebration of nineteen years.</div>
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I do believe I could walk with him all day. Especially near water on a sunny day. He is in his element when he's walking outside. Walking near water was the goal of our trip. Eating occasionally was important too. </div>
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He patiently waited as I snapped pictures. He shared my excitement over birds on the water and turtles on land (though I'm pretty sure he's seen them before). We sipped Italian sodas (with real cream) and wondered why we hadn't done this sooner? </div>
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We admired the color of boats. I favored the colorful ones… he, the ones built for power.</div>
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We talked about trees that thrive in brackish water. And how it is that our children are suddenly so grown. </div>
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He ran up a green hill with me when my curiosity could no longer be held. I had to know <i>what</i> lay behind that stately white gate. </div>
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He bought me coffee, and ice cream… my love language for sure. </div>
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The house where we stayed was over a 100 years old, and we wondered what lives had been lived there. We laid in the early morning light of a lovely yellow room, content to wake up without an alarm. He didn't even laugh at me as I tried to figure out the crochet pattern of the canopy over the bed. {I think I figured it out!} :)</div>
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We celebrated nineteen years by just enjoying each others company. We cannot wait to do it again.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00469891836497620052noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14425061.post-79725855405557848132014-05-03T10:07:00.002-04:002014-05-03T10:11:02.110-04:00The Gift of an Ordinary Week<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This week I was given ordinary gifts that made my heart full of gratitude: early morning kitchen floor fellowship with the kids and the dogs; helping The Boy order a corsage; weeping with a friend over not-so-great news; a play date with an adorable baby (and his awesome mama); crying and laughing late at night with friends; enjoying the sudden, and lovely, coming of spring; Rosie the puppy, and her big funny ears; cleaning the barn with The Girl while the rain fell outside; seeing Mandisa in concert… and meeting her too; receiving good news from the dentist; learning about <a href="https://www.google.com/search?q=maypop+flowers&client=safari&rls=en&tbm=isch&tbo=u&source=univ&sa=X&ei=4_BkU9q1OezisATbu4GwBw&ved=0CEYQsAQ&biw=1920&bih=1018" target="_blank">Maypop flowers</a> from my art students (and watching them teach each other how to make them out of paper); praying in fear when the kids left in the minivan for Starbucks on Friday afternoon… a sibling celebration of freedom, a mother's daily lesson in trust; wrapping up peaceful gratitude when they came back home; finding happy selfies on every camera in the house. </div>
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These teenage years are full of so many good things… <i>and so much letting go.</i> My prayer life is growing and i'm trying to learn how to wear Peace at all times. I fail more than I succeed. The learning curve is very wide. I'm grateful for that gift too. </div>
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I'm grateful for a week of ordinary… the good, the not-so-good, and the mercy and grace that covers it all. </div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00469891836497620052noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14425061.post-41218489964726226962014-04-13T16:49:00.002-04:002014-04-13T16:52:33.192-04:00For All These Things<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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For… </div>
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early mornings with the camera, </div>
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pink flowers, puffy gowns, </div>
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bow ties, shiny shoes, </div>
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laughter in the hallways.</div>
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For…</div>
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Japanese maples, </div>
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dandelions in the sun, </div>
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selfies (with photo mom-bombs), </div>
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old dogs and new dogs, </div>
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time in the Word.</div>
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For… </div>
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friendships, and phone calls, </div>
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riding horses with</div>
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spring in the air.</div>
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For… </div>
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prayer, good books, </div>
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marriage, </div>
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for food and long walks. </div>
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For… </div>
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yellow pollen, </div>
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happy children who paint,</div>
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and teenagers.</div>
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For…<br />
the privilege to</div>
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be present in </div>
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these moments.</div>
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For all these things, I am thankful.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00469891836497620052noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14425061.post-78739558594300158772014-04-09T10:54:00.000-04:002014-04-09T10:54:02.302-04:00RosieTen days ago we rescued a little shepherd mix from the pound.<br />
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Rosie officially belongs to The Girl, who has pined for a puppy all her own for several years.<br />
<br />
I recently read the poem below and laughed out loud. We are diligently working day, <i>and night,</i> on training. But, truly, I'm not quite sure who is training who?<br />
<br />
All the same, we're smitten….<br />
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<div align="left" style="padding-left: 14px; padding-top: 13px;">
<span style="color: #3c605b; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-weight: bold;">My Dog's My Boss <span style="color: black;">by Robert William Service</span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px; padding-left: 14px; padding-top: 20px;">
Each day when it's anighing three<br />
Old Dick looks at the clock,<br />
Then proudly brings my stick to me<br />
To mind me of our walk.<br />
And in his doggy rapture he<br />
Does everything but talk.<br />
<br />
But since I lack his zip and zest<br />
My old bones often tire;<br />
And so I ventured to suggest<br />
Today we hug the fire.<br />
But with what wailing he expressed<br />
The death of his desire!<br />
<br />
He gazed at me with eyes of woe<br />
As if to say: 'Old boy,<br />
You mustn't lose your grip, you know,<br />
Let us with laughing joy,<br />
On heath and hill six miles or so<br />
Our legs and lungs employ.'<br />
<br />
And then his bark was stilled to a sigh<br />
He flopped upon the floor;<br />
But such a soft old mug am I<br />
I threw awide the door;<br />
So gaily, though the wind was high<br />
We hiked across the moor. <br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00469891836497620052noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14425061.post-8957496160458385682014-04-03T21:00:00.000-04:002014-04-03T21:03:09.156-04:00Art Class<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
This week was the first week teaching art to students in my home.<br />
<br />
I piled seven amazing students into my dining room, with my old chipped chairs, and we painted and played. It was so much fun.<br />
<br />
I'm pretty sure my friends Kim and Julia gave me the idea to teach art in the home, but why didn't I think of it sooner? I get to plan and practice creativity in preparation, and then get to do it again with some smart and talented kiddos. It's awesome!<br />
<br />
This week we played with tempera paints and learned some color theory and line drawing. Next week we'll play with watercolors.<br />
<br />
Can't wait!<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00469891836497620052noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14425061.post-34758223497483986292014-03-25T11:09:00.000-04:002014-03-25T11:09:46.328-04:00Tuesday Post <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's hard to believe its only Tuesday. This week has been full. But I found myself in a place where I have a couple hours of relatively uninterrupted time to catch on the blog and other correspondence. So here we go....<br />
<br />
Yesterday I took The Girl to her art class. She has been learning to paint from a friend of mine who lives out in the country. They have a pond and are raising up ducklings. But these three babes are too little yet to live on their own so they are currently living in the kitchen of this beautiful country home. They are darling when they get to take come out of their duck-pin a take dip in the pool. I had so much fun watching them splash and play.<br />
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On Sunday night, The Girl and I went to the Kari Jobe concert. I still remember my first concert (Amy Grant in 1987) and I was excited to experience The Girl's first concert too. I was so excited when we got to meet Kari after the concert! My friend, Angie, had also come with us, and she has excellent after-concert skills. She knew to wait until everyone left, and then she was able to find where Kari was greeting people. So much fun. Very thankful for my Girl.<br />
<br />
The Mister bought me a new art book, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Avian-Friends-Guided-Activity-Journal/dp/0735338507/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1395759468&sr=1-1&keywords=avian+friends" target="_blank">Avian Friends Guided Activity Journal</a> and the pages are so pretty I cannot stand to paint in them. So I've decided to draw some of the pages on watercolor paper instead. I can't decide what I like more when painting, flowers or birds. In this book, you don't have to choose. I should be busy in the office for a good while.<br />
<br />
I'm grateful that the "winter" storm expected today hasn't come. My Camellia's are starting to spring up and they just make me happy. They are my favorite flowers in the yard.<br />
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I'm still trying to gather my thoughts about the weekend, still trying to think things through, but I do know this: I am thankful for that boy.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00469891836497620052noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14425061.post-34591941600637760232014-03-23T17:16:00.000-04:002014-03-24T07:51:52.770-04:00Comfort for Street WeepersI didn't post yesterday because my heart is heavy...<br />
<br />
On Friday afternoon, a dear friend of my son was on her way to pick him up from our house. She had her sister and a friend with her too.They were going to grab a bite to eat and go do something fun the girls had planned. She had just called to say she was nearly there, so he stood outside and waited.<br />
<br />
When we heard the sirens, it didn't even occur to us that it could be for them.<br />
<br />
But it was. When the girls failed to arrive forty minutes later, my son knew something wasn't right. So we ran down the street to find the wreckage, just at the end of our street. Two smashed cars in a ditch and a broken telephone pole. All involved already in route to hospital by ambulance.<br />
<br />
The damage didn't look survivable. When I saw the fall out of the wreck, I wept on that street like a child who was lost. My sobs rang out and echoed off the pavement. My own son had to be the adult, gathering information and consoling his mother. <br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=psalm+100%3A5&version=ESV" target="_blank"><i>But God is good, all the time.</i></a> <br />
<br />
Everyone survived. Two of the girls have major bumps and bruises and will need lots of recovery time. The driver, my son's dear friend, is still in the hospital, beginning the healing process of a broken pelvis, broken ribs and a collapsed lung. <b>But she is alive!</b><br />
<br />
Life is fragile... <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=john+5&version=NIV" target="_blank">"And so we know and rely on the love God has for us.... he hears us...We know also that the Son of God has come and has given us understanding, so that we may know Him who is true. And we are in Him who is true - even in his Son Jesus Christ. He is the true God and eternal life.</a><i><a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=john+5&version=NIV" target="_blank">"</a> </i>(1 John 5: 14, 20-21)<br />
<br />
Even in the face of all the things we wish we could have done, or should have done, or would have done, if we could do it all over again, we must remember this:<i> it is only God who gives understanding.</i> This is a merciful gift. He does not give the knowledge to rely on ourselves and avoid the trials in life. But He gives us understanding that we might know Him, who is the Truth, and<i> cling to Him</i> without hesitation, while the trial passes through. He is the One who picks us up while we are weeping in the street, cares intimately for our heavy hearts, and gives comfort that is strong and lasting. He is the true God. <br />
<br />
The Lord preserved the lives of those three precious young women on Friday afternoon. <i>May this moment draw them, and their families and friends, and my son, and me... always to the understanding of Christ and His amazing love. Amen.</i>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00469891836497620052noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14425061.post-78722774717425898852014-03-21T16:43:00.000-04:002014-03-21T16:43:38.418-04:00Photo Friday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Feathered, Furry, Four-legged Friends…</div>
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…. and a flower, for good measure!<br />
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Happy Friday!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00469891836497620052noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14425061.post-25855023066930892172014-03-20T10:31:00.000-04:002014-03-20T10:11:46.119-04:00Throwback Thursday: Being Present<i>{Throwback Thursday post from the Archives: originally posted on Mar 19, 2009 - LVCG}</i><br />
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I'm in the middle of trying to plan a little family vacation, so i am going to use today's computer time for that. But I wanted to share one of my favorite pictures. This was before we had a digital camera so this picture looks fake ...but oh! this day was <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">very</span> real.<br />
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<img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg33NT9mZrrvcIfBFi1j0RFzUr3QsjSs-qsGmTPdGb82xjruCGCRdN-lwT4EkygREMTOYFHHqLkQ1qiC4iAg0HSL5nM9JmZfqFK9z7AUyawJlWmSHpFxMQguf2W0lQkCI0dquG/s400/IMG08.JPG" height="427" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314908747003229474" style="display: block; height: 267px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" width="640" /></div>
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This was taken outside of Estes Park, Colorado on a trail that I think was called The Devils Backbone. It was the summer of 2003. </div>
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This picture means so much to me because I was finally coming out of struggle in my life. </div>
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I had had a long battle with myself; I was finally feeling <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">free</span>. I was in the early stages of being healthy--body, mind, and spirit. </div>
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I was really <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">living</span>. </div>
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The air was cool. A monsoon storm was threatening to roll over the valley that quietly sat beneath the opposite side of the ridge. </div>
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I can still smell the rain on the wind, feel the dirt on my hands. I can see different shades of green foliage, blue sky, and red earth; with the dark clouds of black and grey, that couldn't have have darkened my spirit, even if it poured out heavy drops of rain. I looked into the deep brown eyes of my children; felt the dry, strong, hand of The Misters in mine.</div>
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I was alive. </div>
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In that moment, I felt blessedly content.</div>
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The voice of a hawk called from the craggy crevices behind us. Daring us to walk closer, yet we stayed on the trail. We hiked to a bench that sat between the path overlooking the valley, we sat and watched bolts of bluish lightening make its presence known. </div>
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It is something I will never forget...that time when I realized how amazing life can be when we choose to be present. </div>
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Storms may be on the horizon. </div>
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The trail maybe steep. </div>
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But there <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">is</span> rest for the soul in the midst. Where we resist the call to leave the road marked before us, and stand in awe of all that is good. </div>
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...where we can breathe deeply, and smile.</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Jeremiah 6:16,</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">(MSG)</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Charis SIL';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">God's Message yet again:</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Charis SIL';"></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Charis SIL';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"> "Go stand at the crossroads and look around. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Charis SIL';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"> Ask for directions to the old road,</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Charis SIL';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">The tried-and-true road. Then take it. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Charis SIL';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"> Discover the right route for your souls."</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Charis SIL';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"> </span></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00469891836497620052noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14425061.post-29930894485773209182014-03-19T16:36:00.003-04:002014-03-19T16:40:40.982-04:00The Happenings in my Office/Studio<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDyRae_usMHXs5KhRFeLWSFLxrrC_kdGJ7LHHn4tZV0RfdqufV3mmC17mcNkbu6XPsaiKlkvcFamkHKEfBpVlD28dqi2PXATS6U6w8gOIy_gQ1aUenuCjrVbsjg1lrMC0NH-qc/s1600/IMG_2131.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDyRae_usMHXs5KhRFeLWSFLxrrC_kdGJ7LHHn4tZV0RfdqufV3mmC17mcNkbu6XPsaiKlkvcFamkHKEfBpVlD28dqi2PXATS6U6w8gOIy_gQ1aUenuCjrVbsjg1lrMC0NH-qc/s1600/IMG_2131.jpg" height="400" width="298" /></a></div>
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I know you aren't going to believe this (given the typical state of my compulsive need for the creative, and my tendency to the unfinished project) but I actually have very few unfinished pieces in the queue right now.<br />
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I started the quilt above, for a sweet baby named Mira, in October last year. It was a pattern from <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Embroidery-Companion-Classic-Designs-Modern/dp/0307462358/ref=la_B001JSHGSQ_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1395258070&sr=1-1" target="_blank">this book</a>, given to me as a gift several years ago. (I've been a big fan of <a href="http://rosylittlethings.typepad.com/posie_gets_cozy/" target="_blank">Alicia Paulson</a> for nearly a decade.) I tend to avoid quilts… I love making the top, but the quilting and binding make me want to cuss so I put it off… until last month. I tried<a href="http://www.cluckclucksew.com/2013/01/machine-binding-tutorial.html" target="_blank"> this tutorial </a>for machine binding, and <i>honestly</i>, it was so easy that I may make this the Year of the Quilt. I was thankful to find it. Mira was born in November and I was hoping to finish it before she went to college. Now I can't wait to bind a top I made several years ago. Really, if binding is what gives you the heebie-jeebies in quilt making, check out that link.<br />
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In February I crocheted<a href="http://www.crochetville.com/community/topic/116690-free-pattern-cable-wrist-warmer-pattern/" target="_blank"> these cabled wrist warmers f</a>or my BBFF (British Best Friend Forever), but forgot to take a picture. I'm including the link in this post because the pattern is FREE, and <i>very</i> easy, yet satisfying. I think I may make myself a pair, since winter is carrying on the way it is...<br />
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I've been doing a lot of watercoloring lately. Experimenting as I get ready to teach my co-op kids, and the classes I'll be teaching at home.<br />
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Honestly, I never considered myself much of an artist when it came to drawing and painting, but three things changed my mind:<br />
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1. I read <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Drawing-With-Children-Creative-Beginners/dp/0874778271" target="_blank">Drawing with Children</a>, and it has <i>totally</i> changed the way I think about drawing.<br />
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2. Teaching art to children requires a lot of tempera and watercolor, and I need lots of practice.<br />
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3. My friend, Julia, gave me a watercolor kit for my birthday, and my dad encouraged me to use it. (I'm grateful to both of them!)<br />
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Right now I'm drawing a lot of flowers. They are easy and colorful. Perfect projects for a frigid <i>almost spring. </i>(I'm done with saying <i>winter</i>.)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLdlhLMrxTcTWvbTLuywYAoB6j2x_Y9tpn2UU3BUf8oTrA6PHrb0L8TOR9lo6MLJjnwPvEHuCMtzd6Ic3wTdUMn2EqxrSfM2ZZSHwadAoevMW9k92miEek-JUo5EHU0e6kOKYV/s1600/IMG_2198.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLdlhLMrxTcTWvbTLuywYAoB6j2x_Y9tpn2UU3BUf8oTrA6PHrb0L8TOR9lo6MLJjnwPvEHuCMtzd6Ic3wTdUMn2EqxrSfM2ZZSHwadAoevMW9k92miEek-JUo5EHU0e6kOKYV/s1600/IMG_2198.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAH_uzrMtHM2eVVYhdWco2Y4Hu4E-GFsFfRyRjCCcz97Ys8qFLiPK6kU_glsUVrKnxiUZZrdz62eMsiYwICReFiN0Cfvhsa0j3whA5ftYDhxQoTcsKdwwXFJ0WXsI_OMJhIkGV/s1600/IMG_2197.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAH_uzrMtHM2eVVYhdWco2Y4Hu4E-GFsFfRyRjCCcz97Ys8qFLiPK6kU_glsUVrKnxiUZZrdz62eMsiYwICReFiN0Cfvhsa0j3whA5ftYDhxQoTcsKdwwXFJ0WXsI_OMJhIkGV/s1600/IMG_2197.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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About two years ago, when I <a href="http://coffeegal.blogspot.com/2012/09/confession-from-coffeegal.html" target="_blank">lost my mind with anxiety</a>, I found a photo of a cracked vase with a flower in it, in a magazine. For some reason it <i>spoke</i> to me. I cut it out and plastered it above my work table as encouragement. I <i>loved</i> that picture. I think I felt a little cracked myself, but was doing my best to remember that beauty can come from broken vessels, if we allow it. So I kept the clipping.<br />
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Eventually, (thankfully!) as I got better, and things got moved around in my studio, I took the picture down and tucked it into a drawer. Last week I was thinking about what might inspire some watercolor practice, and I remembered the blue vase. This is my current unfinished, but happy, project.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00469891836497620052noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14425061.post-21669983396424480352014-03-18T08:23:00.004-04:002014-03-18T08:31:40.233-04:00Glass Trees in March<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGMD-dHAuKqAc6o28nrEN0WQkWWYiHYeSbOtXGcY0pU80vb27__9pLPnS8jn2fEb2wFQMgb8dxFbar0hjG9Rhe0UM6-6-_FzqBr4QYBX4UDGznYax5eEapG0JgBiLqRFSvmz4g/s1600/IMG_2728.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGMD-dHAuKqAc6o28nrEN0WQkWWYiHYeSbOtXGcY0pU80vb27__9pLPnS8jn2fEb2wFQMgb8dxFbar0hjG9Rhe0UM6-6-_FzqBr4QYBX4UDGznYax5eEapG0JgBiLqRFSvmz4g/s1600/IMG_2728.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
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When I threw back the curtains this morning I gasped.<br />
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<i>In like a lion, out like a lamb?</i> I'm thinking the lion rages on.<br />
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They are beautiful, these icy trees of glass.<br />
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A slight breeze blew through the trees and the ice made strange crackling sounds; being equally frightening, and somehow musical. Like the sounds of wintery chimes.<br />
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I snapped pictures off the front porch wearing yoga pants, a t-shirt, and socked feet. Not optimal clothing for a morning like this… but who has a time for shoes and jackets, when the sparkle of ice begs to be seen?<br />
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Usually at this time of year I've got seedlings growing in the garage. Not this season. I think I'll just buy seedling plants for the garden, which is full of icicles now.</div>
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The good news? It will be a great day for<a href="http://www.daydreamkitchen.com/2012/09/amish-country-bread/" target="_blank"> making bread</a>, and (if I go outside again) I'll wear my boots for one more day!<br />
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