Tempus fugit

Where did August go? No chance to finish the list of things "to do" now. It's gone. Vanished. History.

One planned task that we did accomplish was our family memorial dinner near the end of the month... three days ago to be exact. It was supposed to be a time of "remember when?", food and comfort.

We had food. We had a few "remember when?" moments. There was good company. But the thing we will all recall from the 2010 dinner is the broken arm.


Zip lines and adventurous kids aren't always ideal companions. (Praise God it was only a broken arm!!)

So August, with all of its memories, new and old, is out the door.

... when I fall, I shall arise; when I sit in darkness, the Lord shall be a light unto me. Micah 7:8

My Prayer Album is new... fresh... and in use.

As a result of my "guerrilla art" adventures, I think it has a whole new feel. I love every wonderful (to me) page.

I can't show full pages without getting permissions from everyone who is pasted into the book, but here are a few sideways shots...




These two pages include stitched fabric paper...




I am always surprised at my reaction to a renewed Album. It sprinkles "happy" all over my calling.

aaaaahhhhhh......

And let the beauty of the Lord our God be upon us; and establish thou the work of our hands upon us...Psalm 90:17

Hobo bread

Back in the days when "bread machine" referred to a person who could crank out multiple loaves of bread, my kids didn't appreciate my cutting edge baking methods. They just knew they had round sandwiches and their classmates didn't.

I had discovered a great recipe for oatmeal bread. Once the dough was made, it went into two 1# coffee cans with the lids snapped on tight. When the rising dough pushed the lids off, it was time to bake. It was really good, really easy, and unfortunately for my kids, really different.

Last week, a box arrived in the mail. When I opened it, there was a loaf of Hobo Bread and a short note - "To Mom, Hobo! Love, (#1 Son)" I laughed because it was round bread.


I wasn't quite sure why he decided to send it to me until I read the label. (The habit of reading labels is what made me start baking my own bread in the first place. sigh.) That's when I understood.


Baked in a can. Me and the hobos... we just knew how to get things done.

Better is a dinner of herbs where love is, than a stalled ox and hatred therewith. Proverbs 15:17

Guerrilla art - pt. 2

Guerrilla art update:

Already in a random place - 5
Yet to place - 1
Planned for future drops - there is no number to cover this!

What a project! The most amazing part? It sets something free in the mind and soul... those dark corners that say - I made this and I want recognition for all the effort that went into it. To walk away from something that is so personal... to just leave it, no strings attached... that action opens the hand, builds faith, throws the need for praise under the bus. Who knew?


This past week, my little projects have found resting places in 3 different states. There was only one time that I passed the drop spot a second time. When I cast a casual glance to make sure it was slightly visible, it was gone! I stepped closer to make sure my eyes were telling the whole story - yep! It was gone. Another wave of thoughts to process....

Guerrilla for God - interesting job description.

... The things which are impossible with men are possible with God. Luke 18:27

Lemons into lemonade

Several months ago, I made some fabric paper. When I looked at my lovely finished pile of paint-paper-fabric combinations, it was hard to imagine what this new product would become.


A couple of months ago, the papers started hollering, "So do something with us!" (What? Your neglected, half-finished crafty stuff doesn't talk to you?) I picked up my favorite piece - all blues and wordy - and nothing. Just can't see it being something. I picked up another piece and the layers came apart in my hands... as did every other piece that I touched.

Last week, overcome with a feeling of what do I have to lose, I started machine stitching the papers. The lines were straight, then curvy, then circle-y. Suddenly I was making flowers, hearts, triangles! What a ton of fun!



Stay tuned... I'll show you how I actually used them!

And He said... My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness... II Corinthians 12:9

Not gorilla!! It's guerrilla!

Have you heard of it? Guerrilla art?

I hadn't... until the latest issue of my fav magazine arrived. In a nutshell, it's art you make and leave while no one is looking. It is a "gift" to the person who finds it and takes it home.

According to the magazine, the reasons for doing this are varied - from political activism to saving the earth to just passing out art! An idea was born as I read the article, my mission clearly laid before me.

This coming week, I am travelling with my dearly beloved. Hidden inside my purse? My 5 pieces of guerrilla art, complete with paints, papers, embellishments, and a Scripture verse.


This is the label on the back to make sure the finder understands that this is a gift.


Can't wait to see what nooks and crannies I'll find to tuck away my little art projects. I'll leave to God the recipient and the results... but that promise - So shall my word be that goeth out of my mouth: it shall not return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it. (Isaiah 55:11) - is what makes it all worth the effort.

I'm excited! Care to jump in?

Sunset

Sunday night, when I passed the front door, I could tell that something strange was going on. As with any die-hard blogger, my camera was nearby, so out the door we went.

It was amazing. Everything was gleaming... the sky, the air, the grass, the house...

These pictures are SOOC.

Brilliant sky at sunset... (taken at 9:16:35 pm - facing west)


Again... (taken at 9:17:01 pm - facing west)


Turning around to see the rest of the sky revealed a completely different view. (taken at 9:18:12 pm - facing southeast)


The southeast sky was blue-black. It was eerie. I wondered if I would hear a trumpet call....

When I consider thy heavens, and the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained; what is man that thou art mindful of him? Psalm 8:3,4

Birthdays and mind set

There is an advantage in piling up birthdays. The first time I was aware of it was when I turned 40. I had a feeling of authority... I knew things. I had survived. And I could tell anyone who stood still long enough how to live his/her life.

I am, however, beginning to fear this confidence that apparently grows with the increasing number of birthdays. I notice that others, whose piles are somewhat higher than mine, have leaped forward to a breathtaking "I-am-what-I-am"!

Last week, I was distracted from my joyful reunion with Mrs. Piggle Wiggle, by two whispering (older) women standing at the end of the bookshelf.

"Oh no one's around. I don't care."

What didn't she care about? That someone might see her trying on shorts, over her shorts, at the end of an aisle! Several pair!

UN-believable. (No photos... she might have cared if I had pulled out my camera.)

To confirm the truth of my observation, I show you this photo...


taken by my dearly beloved, on a busy street in big-city, Maryland. When asked for permission to take his picture, the man said, "Why not? Should I smile?"

I'm not sure if I admire the why not spirit that accompanies age... or if I'm scared witless that I'll get there someday.

Being confident of this very thing, that he which hath begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ. Philippians 1:6