The American Library in Paris is offering English- speaking writers of any nationality the opportunity to work in Paris for a month or longer with a Visiting Fellowship. Writers should be working o…
Source: Get paid to write in Paris …sweet dreams are made of this…
Oh, how much fun this would be! Anyone care to join me? Sigh…
The sweater of a thousand photos joins me as I corral and snuggle our 5 grands!
New beginnings.
January always brings fresh hope and promises of renewed dreams, goals, plans.
View the sweater of a thousand photos.
This wardrobe piece awaits my beck and call all hours of the day and night. Menopause requires layers. And this, my Goodwill find from years past, is perfect. Cold? Snuggle in this button-up baby. Hot? Fling it across the room without any answering complaints. Fold it. Wad it. Wash it. Toss it. Wear it. Love and hate it.
From my viewpoint, the sweater of a thousand photos matches every item of clothing I own. Because I wear it with any and every thing. Coordinating or not.
As evidenced by photos. At least 1,000 of them.
Life in the RV has finally taken its toll. Laundry facilities are stranded across compacted snow and ice trails inside the stick house of our son and his family. Sometimes one forgets to empty the dryer on time. Usually that is ok. But just this once, it was not.
For the sweater of a thousand photos has been damaged. Heated too long and too hot. The yarns melted into permanent wrinkles. Never before static cling haunts attempts at layering. What once was fuzz and softness is now thin and bare. The sweater of a thousand photos, MY sweater, the $2 deal, is nearing the end.
My heart is sad but realizing the futility of wearing holes and wrinkles held together with bits of yarn. It is time to move on. Let it go. Wave a fond farewell, not looking back.
Unless it is in photos.
New beginnings come in different forms. Out with the old, in with the new. Or maybe new-to-me.
The hunt has begun. This year, I resolve to capture the next sweater of a thousand photos. The search will be in reverse order, according to hunting aficionados, but this works well for clothing.
Hunt. Bag. Shoot.
What will you be hunting this year?
Storystorm! A month of brainstorming, learning, making friends, writing – all centered on picture books. Come on, writers, let’s go!
by Tara Lazar Amidst the chaos and confusion of the past year, a Zen movement gathered steam, gently simmering in the background of our harried lives and minds. You may have noticed—albeit fleeting…
Source: Storystorm Day 2: “To Mind or Not to Mind” by Tara Lazar
My January writing activities include Storystorm! Thanks, Tara Lazar!
by Guest: Deb Lund
I’ve been restless lately. Uncertain. Wondering what to work on next, but not taking action. Growing up in northern Minnesota, the outward version of that was an approaching storm—…
Source: Storystorm Day 1: “The Calm Before the Storm” by Deb Lund
wafts of spice tickle
quivering noses and tongues
gingerbread delight
~ Angie Quantrell
There is most decidedly a reason that gingerbread has become synonomous with Christmas.
The scent.
The fragrance of warm spices, the steam of a hot oven, the soft melting of toasted cookies melting in your mouth…
Welcome, gingerbread. Welcome, Christmas.
I just completed stocking number 5. Or 11, depending on how far back you want to go.
Autumn, the youngest grand princess, wore her Christmas stocking just in the nick of time, since all other stockings are hung by the chimney with care, and mommy and daddy were patiently waiting for Nana to finish sewing for the fourth family member.
Christmas is a very short time away, right?
Making Christmas stockings became a tradition as soon and my honey and I were married. I strip-pieced matching stockings for both of us about 31 years ago. They have been used every year, except this one, when they are hiding in storage. And maybe next year, which will most likely be the same.
After each of our two children were born, I made them giant strip-pieced stockings. Somewhere (again, in the storage unit) are pictures of them wearing their stockings. As adults, Taylor and Chelsie both have their stockings in their own homes. Spouses (and child-of-our-hearts) received their own stocking. All that was missing were the baby pictures in stockings, but, well, they are just too big to wear them!
Jump forward to the next generation of grands.
First came Hayden, our 4-wheelin’ boy. Nana got busy right away to make him a stocking.
Next came Khloe, Princess of the Blue Eyes. Nana stitched and sewed to get her set for Christmas.
Donavyn, the brown-eyed ducky boy, came next. Here he is wearing his stocking beside his baby sister. He barely fits!
Gage, little wild man, made his appearance over a year ago. Nana dusted off the sewing machine and created his stocking.
And finally, Autumn. Last winter, when I was making Gage’s stocking, I cut out the base for another stocking, since we knew grand number 5 was on the way. Good thing for me, as we didn’t know we would soon be shoving all of our belongings into a tiny storage unit. When my Christmas senses kicked in, all I had to do was pull out the trunk with my fabric, dig out the stocking base and Christmas fabric, and I was reading to sew.
Stocking number 5. Or 11, depending on where you want to start counting. For us, it all began 31 years ago.
Dear Kitties,
I know it’s cold in the RV. In fact, sometimes it’s Jack Frost icy. I realize that furry coats don’t always do the job in the warm-me-up department. I even acknowledge that though there are only 2 of you (and you are sisters from the SAME litter), touching each other often causes undo excitement, hissy fits, and flying bits of gray fluff.
We have a queen bed. In the RV. Crammed into a tiny alcove. Six-foot two-inch hubby requires most of the square footage available on said bed. That leaves me a tiny sliver, I’d even say the edge is my only slumber real estate.
I know we have an electric blanket. I admit to enjoying the toasty slide into pre-warmed sheets. The heater ducts blow comfortably hot air into our bedroom. This makes our room the most desirable location during long winter nights.
It also makes me be squished.
Sliver of bed. Closet alcove for darkness naps. Tall husband. Two cats.
Kitties. I have short legs. But even then, when you are both snuggled and sleeping like furry gray rocks along the bottom of the bed, I am left with nowhere to put my feet.
Out of the covers? Brrrr. Between you? This is one event where you allow yourselves to touch, even become glued together with your sibling. Beneath you? Your elephanty weight belies your small stature. Against the hubby? Uhm, his long legs leave no room. Up against your warm bodies it is then.
A ball. You will find me rolled on my side up near the outer wall of the RV. Sushi roll style, head wedged against the “dresser,” shoulders along the “headboard,” hands and knees tucked into the middle like bits of julienned carrots and radishes. The seaweed wrap of electric blanket coccooning me. And there the sushi mama roll will stay all night, on her less than 1/4 of the bed area.
You, my kitties, will have plenty of sleeping room. Purring contentedly, stretching at ease, lengthening and contracting with the rise and fall of space and temperatures.
Thanks for keeping us company and for blanketing our bed with your heat and snuggles. I don’t mind sharing with you. Not a bit.
Sleep well, feline foot warmers.
The Sushi Kitty Mama
Expectation
of falling leaves
laced windows
crinkled edges on mud puddles
Nesting
for darkened skies
steaming breaths
everlasting winter nights
Embrace
need for warmth
bundled outings
dampness pervading excursions
Breathing
knife edged air
smoke heated rooms
Savor the moment
Peace
over bounteous tables
quilted beds
in heart and home
Tranquility
The seasons change
all is well
Nested
There I was. Putzing around while my honey worked up a sweat digging out a fresh little Christmas tree. I couldn’t really help him, one shovel and all.
In our area, we can purchase a tree permit from the forest service and dig or cut a tree up to 15 feet tall. As long as we follow the rules of where and where not, we get to choose whichever tree we love!
The first tree ‘we’ loved was a beauty! Between 5-6 feet tall, symmetrical, gorgeous. Plans were changed and we decided to dig up this pretty baby (by we, I mean he) and immediately plant it in the pasture before the ground froze.
Uhm. 5-6 foot evergreen trees do not come with short and easy-to-remove-from-the-dirt roots. After probably 25 minutes of heavy duty grunt work, we told the tree we love you and grow well and strong and shoveled all the dirt back and tamped it down. The tree would not budge. It loved where it lived.
The results from this attempt made us decide to dig up a smaller tree. MUCH smaller.
We found a lovely, adorable little tree stuck on the side of a hill. It called out to us – “Take me home!”
So my honey started digging. We had expectations for a shorter dig time. This prediction did not account for the rock. We also planned on potting this cutie and enjoying it inside the RV and planting it later in the spring.
Except for the rock. And the huge curvy taproot wrapped around the rock that would have forced us to use a pot the size of a small car in order to cover it with soil. That sort of container does not fit in the RV.
Plan C. Bag up the cute tree which still required 15 or so minutes for extraction, and immediately introduce it to the new home in the pasture.
Our second tree, originally planned as a larger cut tree, then switched to “Let’s dig out 2 trees,” was then maneuvered back into the original plan after the digging marathons. A stately and fragrant tree became our cut tree.
One can never tell what is lurking below the surface. Rocks, roots, acres of soil – depth of stability, secure anchorage, ablility to withstand hurricane force winds or mountains of heavy snow. Baby trees face all sorts of dangerous conditions out in the wild. And each one causes the tree to grow stronger and more resilient, develop even deeper roots, and hang on tight.
I should have taken a picture of that root wrapped rock. As a reminder. But the mushrooms were calling and I didn’t realize the significance of the rock. It’s like that sometimes. Upon later reflection, insights swivel my viewfinder to see what’s truly important.
Sometimes I feel like a baby tree, stuff coming at me from all directions. I bend, shudder, and quake, tossed like a dandelion puff on the wind. But as long as my heart roots are wrapped around the Rock, I am safe and can rest in His care and protection. I can continue to grow and become stronger as I sink my roots deep and wrap them ever tighter around my source of strength.
The Rock.
“Let your roots grow down into him, and let your lives be built on him. Then your faith will grow strong in the truth you were taught, and you will overflow with thankfulness.”
– Colossians 2:7
Special Mickey dessert we enjoyed after a delicious lunch.
Let’s catch up! It’s been that busy lately.
Blog? What blog? It’s more like suitcase? Where did I put my travel bag? Where are the luggage tags? Gotta do the laundry so I have clean undies. Need to remember to pack this and that necessity. Unpack, repack. Lists, lists, and more lists.
Pause. Bring out the teacups. Heat the water. Squeeze in a bit of honey. Choose a teabag. Pour. Steep. Relax.
How has life been treating you? Are you enjoying fall (or spring, depending on your hemisphere)? What plans do you have for the holidays?
We thought life in an RV would be simpler, less to care for, smaller requirements of energy, more free time.
That has not happened. Yet.
Indeed, it seems to take longer to live. Less stuff, but more thinking and decisions to be made regarding purchases, storage options, and mulitple use items. But enough about that for now. More later.
Life has been busy, so having a small space to place our heads at the end of the day has been wonderful. A few things we have been enjoying:
We found Chewbacca!
Disneyland. Happy anniversary to us! I’m sure I have everyone confused about the date of our actual anniversary, but we have gotten out of the habit of celebrating it on or even near the 22 of June. November? Sure, that’s a great time to head south with thousands of our best friends (and we thought we had an original idea – nope – crowd factor was quite high).
Rubber stamping. I know – hand crafts are fabulous! I decided to make our Christmas cards this year, since my stash of every day cards is quite high and I need to use some of them up before adding more. So off I went to meet the girls and co-conspirators. 94 Christmas cards ready to be used. Merry Christmas!
The leaves win!
Grandkids. One of my favorite hobbies. I love seeing them and spending time with all 5 of our precious jewels. Photos have been taken, treats given, hugs and kisses enjoyed. Every day is an adventure with grands!
Amplify. We are headed into the busy season, as most churches are right now. Harvest Party, Thanksgiving baskets, Caroling and nursing home visit, Candlelight Service, and so on. Despite the bustle of the season, I adore this time of year.
Writing. Deadlines are among us. If I disappear for a few days (or weeks) and forget to answer emails or phone calls, it’s the deadline factor. I am blessed to have quite a few on my master schedule, so off to work I go.
Walking. Not so much when I’m home. But if I’m in, let’s say Disneyland, I’ve enjoyed upwards of 8-10 miles a day. Or with friends, 2-3 miles is a nice happy medium. At home, we are still working out the kinks of safely reaching a good walking location (without having to drive somewhere to walk).
Family. Keeps us busy. Grands, siblings, children, parents. It’s lovely to have all of our family close. That doesn’t always translate to seeing them often, but if something pops up, we are near and can help or attend an event or gathering. I don’t know of many families that have so many members this close. For that, we are grateful.
And coming up soon – birthdays, Thanksgiving, Christmas, the new year – the seasons of the year. Each is a gift from God.
How about you? Refresh your cup and fill me in. What plans are on the calendar? What’s been going on?
Have a blessed day.
Love, Laughter, and Life 