I like to felt. Old sweaters, thrift store finds, you name it- if it will shrink I'll felt it. What do I do with these shrunken wonders? Not a whole lot. I made my nephew a cute Christmas stocking a couple of years ago. That was it until I saw a felted hat pattern in Debbie Stoller's book "The Happy Hooker" crochet book.
This hat was called "Strut" and I should beware of anything that smacks of "proud"- I really should be Amish. I followed the directions and crocheted it to the obligatory size of a house and stuck it in a pot of boiling water to shrink. The directions said run it through the hot water cycle in the washing machine. Why do I have a problem with directions? It's like I can go so far but then have to think of a way to do it better. (sigh) I took it out of the pot and it hadn't shrunk very much, so after my children and husband took turns trying it on and striking all manner of Dr.Seuss poses, I threw it in the washing machine. At the end of the cycle it had shunk to the size of a bird's nest requiring drastic stretching and pulling and molding over bowls and vases to get it into a head shape. The end result was more Devo than Jackie O.
Next time I promise to follow the directions to the letter. To the best of my ability given who I am. Oh brother.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Running With Chickens
I was racing up the basement stairs hoping that the plastic bag holding the chicken wouldn't leak on the floor. I really didn't want to deal with extracting chicken juice out of the sand colored carpet. The bag was surprisingly heavy but I kept my speed up pretty well. As I neared the finish line- my kitchen- I started to laugh. My husband, hearing the commotion, asked what I was doing. I answered,
"I'm running with chickens."
"I'm running with chickens."
Thursday, August 2, 2007
Philadelphia Story
Philadelphia freedom shine on me...-Elton John
The lobbyist's wife-that would be me- hits the streets of the city of brotherly love.
The American Legislator's Exchange Council, an organization of (you guessed it) legistlator's- of a primarily conservative persuasion- from across the U.S. converged last week in Philly. I was there. I had the privilege of being with some men and women who serve our state through elected positions. My husband and I toured the city and ate at some incredible restaurants. We got a bit of a feel for the historical significance and that sense of how time has passed. I wondered what John Adams would think of the modern Philadelphia.
I saw homelessness and people of all types who seemed spiritually lost and in need. I prayed. It is a temptation for me to dispair when confronted with so much hopelessness. I want everybody to have. To be at peace. To know Jesus.
God bless Philadelphia. Wrap her in your arms of love.
The lobbyist's wife-that would be me- hits the streets of the city of brotherly love.
The American Legislator's Exchange Council, an organization of (you guessed it) legistlator's- of a primarily conservative persuasion- from across the U.S. converged last week in Philly. I was there. I had the privilege of being with some men and women who serve our state through elected positions. My husband and I toured the city and ate at some incredible restaurants. We got a bit of a feel for the historical significance and that sense of how time has passed. I wondered what John Adams would think of the modern Philadelphia.
I saw homelessness and people of all types who seemed spiritually lost and in need. I prayed. It is a temptation for me to dispair when confronted with so much hopelessness. I want everybody to have. To be at peace. To know Jesus.
God bless Philadelphia. Wrap her in your arms of love.
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Butterfly Waltz
Saturday morning is the Farmer's Market. There are two small farms that I love to support. I buy beautiful organic chicken, eggs, and produce from Farrar Out Farm, which is run by a lovely young couple, Bryan and Christine Truemper and I get the most gorgeous heirloom vegetables from Ron at On the Wind farm. While I'm there I remind myself to soak in the beauty and artistry that is produced by these hardworking people. I remember to bring my own bags for once, but not a pen, which they so kindly offer without my having to ask. I bask in the feeling of community- of being connected to something good and wholesome.
Later I pull into my driveway. I'm listening to Strauss' Blue Danube Waltz, better known as the Skater's Waltz, on the classical station. It seems a strange choice for a gorgeous Summer day, but I see a monarch butterfly swooping and landing on flowers in perfect time- a dance choreographed by God. Just for me.
May the Lord bless you.
Later I pull into my driveway. I'm listening to Strauss' Blue Danube Waltz, better known as the Skater's Waltz, on the classical station. It seems a strange choice for a gorgeous Summer day, but I see a monarch butterfly swooping and landing on flowers in perfect time- a dance choreographed by God. Just for me.
May the Lord bless you.
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Cheryl Plain and Tall
I was reading "Renovating Becky Miller" by Sharon Hinck and decided to try a paragraph in her style. I was quicky reminded why Sharon is a multi-published author. I did have some fun... Here goes...
She looked at the dirt underneath her fingernails and wondered why she had boarded that train headed to the midwest. She had left her beloved Maine seacoast behind,perhaps forever. To make matters worse, the man seemed uncommunicative and the children had been without a mother for so long that it seemed impossible to reach them. She pitched the shovel once again into the hard earth, wriggling it back and forth to loosen the clay from the rock that was so abundant. Why was life so hard? All she wanted was a husband to love and to be a mother to the two little waifs that needed nurturing, a mother's touch. How long would it take before she was accepted? She was running out of faith. "Break up the fallow ground" said a voice from somewhere deep inside. "I'm trying" she breathed, brushing a few strands of hair out of her hazel eyes. "I'm trying".
She looked at the dirt underneath her fingernails and wondered why she had boarded that train headed to the midwest. She had left her beloved Maine seacoast behind,perhaps forever. To make matters worse, the man seemed uncommunicative and the children had been without a mother for so long that it seemed impossible to reach them. She pitched the shovel once again into the hard earth, wriggling it back and forth to loosen the clay from the rock that was so abundant. Why was life so hard? All she wanted was a husband to love and to be a mother to the two little waifs that needed nurturing, a mother's touch. How long would it take before she was accepted? She was running out of faith. "Break up the fallow ground" said a voice from somewhere deep inside. "I'm trying" she breathed, brushing a few strands of hair out of her hazel eyes. "I'm trying".
Friday, July 13, 2007
Disney Girls
"Fantasy world and Disney girls are comin' back."-Cass Elliot
Since I've come back from Disney World, I've spent some time pondering what it's all about. Maybe I'm just in recovery from all of the driving, walking, crowds and plain old humanity.
Here are my conclusions.
Disney World is not Tiffany's. Though you can spend about as much money there.
Like Tiffany's, nothing really bad can happen at Disney World.
Unless you count the last time we were there and Chip n' Dale BOTH snubbed my super sensitive 10 year old Rachael at breakfast with the whole gang by refusing point-blank to sign her autograph book. As Disney would have it, Minnie, ever on the lookout for ten year olds traumatized by evil rodents, gathered Mickey and Goofy, who are much higher on the food chain, to pose for pictures. Her face glistened with joy through the tears. To this day Minnie has a special place in her heart.
We all long to be special.
Since I've come back from Disney World, I've spent some time pondering what it's all about. Maybe I'm just in recovery from all of the driving, walking, crowds and plain old humanity.
Here are my conclusions.
Disney World is not Tiffany's. Though you can spend about as much money there.
Like Tiffany's, nothing really bad can happen at Disney World.
Unless you count the last time we were there and Chip n' Dale BOTH snubbed my super sensitive 10 year old Rachael at breakfast with the whole gang by refusing point-blank to sign her autograph book. As Disney would have it, Minnie, ever on the lookout for ten year olds traumatized by evil rodents, gathered Mickey and Goofy, who are much higher on the food chain, to pose for pictures. Her face glistened with joy through the tears. To this day Minnie has a special place in her heart.
We all long to be special.
Sunday, July 8, 2007
Back from Disney!
There's no place like home. There's no place like home. There's no place like home. Yes, Dorothy has returned from OZ, or in my case Disney World. My parents really love their grandchildren. They do. So they gave us all- my brother, two sisters and their families one week of Disney World and Universal Studios theme parks for a big family reunion/vacation.
Since we were the only mid-westerners- thanks to me who married a boy from St.Louis- we decided to drive, stopping first in South Walton beach for a couple of days. Our Ford Freestyle seats seven- semi-uncomfortably, so we borrowed one of those containers that straps onto the roof to store luggage and who-knows-what. I called it "the Griswald", which my daughter shortened to "Gary"- I have no idea why. It made our silver vehicle super easy to spot in those crowded parking lots.
It's too early for me to be making any important reflections on this trip, so I will save any deep points for another time. Suffice it to say- I'm home.
Blessings.
Since we were the only mid-westerners- thanks to me who married a boy from St.Louis- we decided to drive, stopping first in South Walton beach for a couple of days. Our Ford Freestyle seats seven- semi-uncomfortably, so we borrowed one of those containers that straps onto the roof to store luggage and who-knows-what. I called it "the Griswald", which my daughter shortened to "Gary"- I have no idea why. It made our silver vehicle super easy to spot in those crowded parking lots.
It's too early for me to be making any important reflections on this trip, so I will save any deep points for another time. Suffice it to say- I'm home.
Blessings.
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