You Can Call Me Gwen

Torn tissue paper is for the birds, too.

 

Since I showed you what I like to do with tissue paper that's been wrinkled or crumpled (gently used), I thought I'd show you what I do with tissue paper that's been torn (well used).

Some of it gets folded up and wrapped in piece of copy-weight scrap paper and fed to the shredder (of course, I save the pretty yield).

 

 

 

Some of it gets torn into smaller pieces which can be used to decoupage just about anything.

Some of the tissue paper which I rescued from the recent baby shower was glued to a scrap of white card stock to make this mailing label.

 

 

 

When I sent off a lot paper birds recently, I filled the bottles with some of the shredded paper and added one of these labels to the outside.

 

 

 

The bottles of birdies which I sent for Me Darlin' Mither included a photo of one of the paper birds on an unexpected perch in my home and a slip with this blog address, per her request.

 

 

 

Perching the birdies in unexpected places makes me look at some old things with new appreciation.

Here is the photo which was inside the bottles.

 

 

 

 

Some of the shoots' artwork from school days is hanging in the upstairs hallway.

It's natural to stop seeing things after you've looked at them for years, but I appreciated this art work all over again when I stopped to perch the birdie on the thermostat this spring.

The drawing above the thermostat is a Miss Mary Mack original and it reads "To mom and dad and my hole family".

Love it.

Sometimes it takes shedding a new light on something in order to notice it at all.

 

 

 

But the little birds which were so carefully placed...

 

 

 

...on the little hands of my favorite Little Man...

 

 

 

 

...gave me the most pleasure of all.

Life is good with little men and little paper birdies in the world.

Friendship Is For the Birds - Part Two

 

My friend, Patti-is-Fun, dropped in on me last Thursday night.

She'd found some colorful, speckled, plastic eggs at the craft store and purchased some for both of us, thinking they'd be perfect "gift boxes" for the little paper birds we'd been playing with over the weekend.

 

 

 

They are bright and cheerful, aren't they?

Imagine her disappointment when she got here and discovered that they were not made to open!

I asked if I could keep mine anyway, because I was determined to find a way to use them.

Craft knife to the rescue!

 

 

 

I took my little Xacto knife and jabbed it in at angles until I'd gone almost all the way around the middle of the egg; I left the last 3/8" intact so the two pieces of the egg would be connected.

The eggs are made from fairly thin plastic, so this was a fast and easy job and the eggs can be temporarily taped closed again with just the smallest piece of tape (or mini gift label).

And guess what?

 

 

 

The little paper birds fit inside just perfectly!

 

 

 

I might have to carry a few of these with me in my car or purse; you just never know when you're going to meet with someone who needs a little love in the form of a tiny surprise. 

Little surprises are so nice. 

 

 
 

 

Just like my friends.

Friendship is For The Birds - Part One

 

Remember when I told you about my experience painting with food coloring on fondant ?

I am glad I got to practice before I had to paint the eagles for my friend's project.

The trial run was a big help; we got to experiment with mixing color, and we realized we could get the desired effect without fondant.

Able Baker Dana baked a batch of eagle-shaped sugar cookies and we started our project by covering them with (bottled) icing.

 

 

 

(On an only-slightly-related note, here is what was going on in my kitchen while Able Baker Dana and I were icing cookies in the dining room.)

 

 

 

(Yikes!)

After the icing set (smooth and firm) we started painting the eagle details.

 

 

 

I thought I needed to paint only four of them, but Able Baker Dana said she needed some extras for "insurance against accidents".

Here are the six of them before yellow accents were added.

 

 

 

The yellow made a big difference!

 

 

 

Painting these eagle cookies was just my little contribution to the big project my friend had undertaken.

She made two half-sheet, double-layer cakes for her son's Eagle Scout ceremony.

Here is the Eagle Scout medal her son (and his three troop mates) earned:

 

 

 

Now look what Able Baker Dana did with the two cakes:

 

 

 

The white cake had white icing.

She tinted the icing for the chocolate cake.

 

 

 

Didn't she do an awesome job?

Look at the edible gold stars she found to sprinkle on the cakes!

 

 

 

 

Neither of us had a thing to do with this ice sculpture, but I thought you should see it.

 

 

 

I wasn't there, but I'd venture a guess that this Eagle Scout reception was first-class all the way.

 

 

 
 

Just like my friends.

Promises, promises.

 

God keeps all of His promises.

He still speaks them to us.

And sometimes we hear Him.

Sometimes our shoots hear Him, too.

And then they come home and tell us all about it.

 

 

 

And we are blessed.

Know what happens...

 

...when the college shoots come home for a week of spring break?

We stay up later than usual.

But we still get up at the same time in the morning.

We eat popcorn, play games, and lose the normal rhythm of the week.

But we still go to our jobs and do our chores.

We have adopted shoots and other young people in the house.

But we still maintain all our other relationships.

Then Saturday comes and they leave us again.

So we get up early on Sunday morning and go out for breakfast together.

We arrive early to church and sit in our car in the parking lot; soaking up the sun's radiant heat and letting the gentle breezes blow through the open windows.

And we both fall asleep.

When we hear other cars arriving, we talk about rousing ourselves.

But it doesn't work; because I can open my mouth...

...but I can't open my eyes.

We go home.

I throw our heavy picnic blanket on the back lawn and lay down.

The winds pick up and it gets a little chilly.

I reach over and grab the corner of the blanket and roll onto my side.

And I sleep.

After awhile, the Prince comes and stands over me until I look up and speak.

"You want to join me?"

I spread out the blanket again and he lays down.

"You look tired. Will you be able to sleep?"

"I'll just relax with you. I won't be able to sleep out here",  he says.

And moments later...

I hear snoring.

 And I think to myself...

 

 

 

"Gads. We're a couple of old people."

Urban Crop Circles

 

Here is an odd thing I like to do.

I like to take walks with the girl shoots at night and make 'crop circles' in the street.

We walk, each armed with two pieces of sidewalk chalk, and when the Spirit moves us to stop, we draw a group of circles in the street.

Different colors.

Different sizes.

All circles.

Sometimes we draw them right next to the driver's door of a car which is parked in the street.

Sometimes we draw them on the corner, under the street lamp.

Sometimes we draw them at the end of a driveway.

But we never draw them on private property.

 

 

 

When Miss Helping Hands got very antsy on the last Saturday night of spring break, we decided to go out and see if we could walk it off.

We took our chalk, drew circles, walked, and talked.

When she told me that she was 'ending an era' and that it was (most probably) the last spring break she would be spending at home...

Well.

That hurt.

Both of us.

So we drew lots of circles.

And when we got home, I broke a rule.

 

 

 

I drew a group of crop circles on private property.

Just outside the driver's door of Miss Helping Hands' car.

And she said...

"Thank you for the circles, Mom. I love you."

I love you, too, Miss Helping Hands.

Something to Crow About

 

The Friday of spring break week, I took my long walk at the lake rather than on the mean streets.

It was a beautiful spring day and I decided it would be nice to be out of the noise of traffic.

The ducks were out in numbers and swimming near the north shore where I was walking, so I rewarded myself for my longer walk, and faster-than-usual pace, by stopping to watch them at the end of my trek.

They were bobbing with the gentle current; quiet and serene.

I felt peaceful standing there watching them...

...for about two minutes...

...until the crows landed on the other side of the lake road.

Crows are not quiet and serene, and they had my attention immediately.

I know  many people find crows annoying, but for reasons unknown I have really been enjoying their raucous cawing this year.

We had an especially large crow in our back yard recently, though I don't remember any of them ever visiting us before this.

 My guess is he was called in by our other feathered friends to handle a tough job.

I burned a bunch of muffins a couple of weeks ago, and I set them aside until I could find time to crumble them for the birds to eat.

A few days later, I got out the sledge hammer, broke the muffins into pieces, and sprinkled them out on the back lawn.

The cardinals came.

The bluejays came.

The starlings came.

 

 

 

But only the crow was man enough to actually eat the blasted things.

What To Do With Crumpled Tissue Paper

 

I have no shame.

I went to a baby shower on Saturday and I watched as yards and yards of beautiful, gently used wrapping tissue was put into a large trash bag.

I tried to restrain myself.

Really, I did.

In the end though, in order to save face as I did my begging, I simply said to the hostesses, "I wonder...if you are planning to throw out all that paper anyway...well...I am an artist...and I would love to take it home and use it in some of my projects."

(I must pause to thank my Native American friend, Whatwouldhappenif, for showing me how to throw around that phrase "I am an artist". It's so helpful.)

As I passed the guest-of-honor on my way out, I lifted the trash bag in her general direction and said, "I'm just taking the trash out for them."

She laughed.

She knows me.

Here is some of the large stack of rescued tissue paper.

 

 

Some of it really did make it into my studio.

Some of it, however, was used to make note cards that very afternoon.

Here is what you will need to make some of your very own:

 

 

 

- Plain notecards

- Spray adhesive

- A cardboard box

- Scrap paper or newspaper

- Crumpled tissue paper

And here is how you make the cards:

1. Crumple and re-crumple a piece of tissue paper that is at least an inch or two larger than your opened card and then smooth it out just until it lies flat. How much smoothing you do at this point will make a difference in the amount of texture in your finished card. Luckily, there is no right or wrong amount. (Don't you love projects like that?)

2. Go outside or into your garage with all your supplies so you don't fry your brain with glue fumes.

3. Lay a stack of scrap paper or newspaper in the bottom of your box, open one card, and lay it on top of the paper stack with the inside of the card facing down.

4. Spray entire outside of card with adhesive according to directions on the can.

5. After the adhesive has set for a minute, carefully lift your card by the edges and lay it glue side down on top of your tissue paper OR set your card on a clean piece of scrap paper glue side up and lay your tissue paper on top of it (which is the way I prefer to work, for no reason I can remember at this moment).

 

A couple of cards in the making:

 

 

 

 

6. This is the second point in the process where you determine how much texture you want your card to have, because the more pressure you apply with your fingers when you are pressing the tissue into the glue, the more crinkles you will work out of your tissue. It's up to you! (Days later, I can still work crinkles out of the cards I made. If I want to. Which I don't.)

7. Once you are sure the papers are sufficiently adhered to one another (particularly around the edges), you can use a scissors (or Xacto knife, if you prefer) and (working from the inside of the card) cut away the excess tissue even with the edge of the card.

8. Et voila! You have textured note cards!

 

 

 

 

Some of these will be used just as they are.

But you see those pastel stripe cards in the back?

I think I need to add a sweet little paper elephant and make baby cards from those.

One of the cards I made is missing from this stack.

It's the one I told the Prince I didn't care for too much.

But he said, "Oh, I really like it! It looks like the ocean and it just needs a surfboard on the front. Give it to me. I will make something with it."

Faint dead away.

The Prince is going to mess around with paper and glue?

On purpose?

Voluntarily?

Does this mean he'll start thinking I need to pick out a tune on his guitar?

He took the card.

I forgot about it.

Until he handed me this a couple of days later:

 

 

 

He actually did cut and paste using scissors and a glue stick.

Inside is a poem about my upcoming trip to California.

Outside are pictures of the sights we were hoping to see.

But the Prince made a card, so I'm thinking...

You can poke my eyes out now 'cuz I already done seen ever'thing.

What To Do With Your Empty Pet Food Bags

(Or...Plum Thicket Book Club: Better Than Oprah's)

We had some lively discussion at our monthly book club meeting last week when The Glass Castle was our subject; we had three generations of women sharing their perspectives, insights, and feelings.

The story is such a wild ride from beginning to end that it can't help but generate some strong feelings, too.

In the end, we decided we'd like to have the male perspective on the story, because we seemed (as a whole) to be more harsh in our judgment of the mother in the story, than of the father.

If you haven't read this book, do.

And if you can get your man to read it, let me know what he thinks of the father: Was he "mean" or just "clueless and thoughtless"?

That's what us goils were bandying about.

At the end of our discussion, Dear Reader Annski (who joined us last month) said she had some "green" gifts for us (we met on St. Patrick's Day).

She had been saving her (virtually indestructible) pet food bags for many months; washing them out and plotting a spectacular re-use.

Look what she made for every member of our group:

 

 

 

Well, not exactly.

Everyone else got tote bags made from the cat food bags.

And they were really cool, too.

Just not as cool as mine.

Because I was the teacher's pet.

So nanny nanny boo boo.

Spring Break!

 

Last week was spring break for the college lassies and they both came home for the week.

I don't know quite how they did it, but they talked this old woman into going to the tanning salon with them on Tuesday (no lectures please, I already know).

I did manage to keep it to just using the leg tanner, but the warmth felt so good that I must confess to wishing I was 'all in'.

I think the girls may be running out of things to talk me into; we've already done the second ear piercing together and I don't think I'm up for a tattoo.

 

 

 

But, hey, I've learned never to say never.

-------

The girls made arrangements for us to go downtown Wednesday and have lunch with 'Daddy'.

Because I'd stayed up later than usual the night before, and because it was my day off, I slept in and didn't see the Prince before he left for work.

We drove down and met him in the parking lot he'd specified...where there just happened to be an open slot right next to his car.

 

 

 

Gwen loves Jesse.

When I saw the Prince, I was surprised to see he was wearing a tie (my favorite red one at that), and he was lookin' mighty fine.

He doesn't usually wear a 'noose' (as he puts it) to work, so I asked him why he was all dressed up and if he'd had an important meeting.

"No. I wore it for you."

Melt, melt.

Man, I do mean MELT, MELT.

 

 

If you're not married yet, look for a guy like that.

It's awesome.

The Bored of Directors

 

The Bored of Directors took a spring break last week and they never returned.

And, since only three of you Dear Readers weighed in on the favorite bird question, we'll just handle our little giveaway without waiting on the Bored.

I'll be popping your (overcrowded) aviaries in the mail today.

 

 

 

Please set our feathered friends free as soon as they arrive.

They're trained to stay put.

Unlike the Bored.

How much sugar can a sugar shunner shun?

 

Lots.

A sugar shunner can shun lots and lots and lots of sugar.

A practiced sugar shunner can shun the chocolate chip cookies someone offers her at the office, and the ice cream that's in the deep freeze at home.

A well trained sugar shunner can walk by platters of brownies and jars full of chocolates without a second glance.

Super sugar shunners can go down the candy aisle and the cookie aisle without adding anything to their shopping cart.

But if someone special should unexpectedly bring a sugar shunner some of her favorite sugar while she is working and very hungry, can the sugar shunner shun the sugar then?

 

 

 

Well...

No.

I'm a dreamer, not a shopper.

 

I was forced, by the warm weather and my (New! Now in larger size!) body, to go clothes shopping last Saturday.

I consider it a privilege to be able to buy clothes, but I really dislike shopping, so I usually 'pray up' about my attitude before I go (and I shop alone so no one else gets hurt).

I was  grateful to find some spring clothes without too much effort, and I was especially pleased that some of them were pink.

And polka-dotted; you just can't feel unhappy wearing polka-dots.

 

 

 

While I was in the dressing room, pondering my diseased thinking about self-worth and body image, I had a vision of a work of art.

I have had visions of finished canvasses before this (I can think of two in particular), but I have never yet attempted to bring one to realization.

I was praying the morning after my shopping trip and my mind began to drift back to the vision of the canvas, which included a set of (think law) scales.

When I realized I was mentally wandering, I gave myself a shake and turned my attention to the scriptures, which I had opened when I first sat down.

Before I could turn to the portion I intended to read, a verse from the Proverbs of Solomon (which were open before me) caught my eye.

"Differing weights are detestable to the Lord, and dishonest scales are unfair." Pr. 20:23

Knowing that the weights referred to here were those which were to serve as the standard (they were placed in one side of the scale, and the goods being purchased were measured into the other until the scales were balanced) brings understanding to the reason false weights are "detestable" and "unfair".

Knowing that God intended for me to see this scripture, in regard to the art He'd let me "see" the day before, brings me to my knees.

I will need His help to bring this canvas from vision to reality.

 

 

 

But I believe it needs to be done.

Beautiful, bossy, and blue.

 

Mister Bossy is back.

He was in our back yard last Friday morning.

He was scaring off all our other guests with his loud chatter and pushy ways.

I knew he wasn't behaving very kindly, but I just couldn't hold it against him.

And that's because I still remember how I felt the first time I saw him.

At the time, of course, I didn't know his name, or how bossy and ill-mannered he could be.

I only knew I thought he was absolutely gorgeous and I couldn't wait to be introduced.

They told me his name was Jay and that he was nothing special - quite common, actually.

But I've never believed them.

And he comes to visit me every year...

 

 

 

...so I guess he knows I think he's pretty wonderful.

I just never know...

 

...what's coming up next.

When Able Baker Dana asked me for some help with a baking project she was doing for her son's Eagle Scout ceremony, of course I said yes.

When she told me she was going to cut some pound cake with an eagle-shaped cookie cutter and cover it with fondant, and that she needed some help 'painting' the fondant with food-color, of course I said I'd try.

Last week she decided to do a 'trial run' so we could practice before the big day, so I stopped by after work Thursday afternoon and we did just that.

This was the result of our experiment:

 

 

 

I've never painted with food-color.

In fact, I've never painted much at all (unless you count walls).

But it did at least look like an eagle, and it did help us make some 'design' decisions before she starts baking the sheet cakes and I have to paint four of these 'for real' next week.

It is funny to me how many of these kinds of things I get myself into.

Life is full of little adventures; I'll let you know how this one turns out.

I thought I would surely be drawing an eagle on the day's inchie, but (especially because I knew I'd be painting them again) it got ousted by a little something the Prince pulled on me that evening.

He pulled a knife on me.

A few weeks ago, when I was maniacally spring cleaning, I came across the little Swiss army knife one of my sweet male Shoots had given me years ago.

It had been ruined (I forget how), but I just hadn't been able to throw it out.

When I found it, I told the Prince how I loved that little knife and how sorry I was that I couldn't carry it anymore.

I guess you can figure out the rest of the story, but I still forget how much the Prince loves to give gifts to me.

The evening of the eagle-painting day, he handed me a little box.

And in the little box, was a little knife just like the one my Shoot had given me.

It is now attached to my key chain.

 

 

 

I'm sure you can guess which of the tools on this knife is my favorite.

 

 

 

And now when I open my little knife, or cut with my little scissors...

 

 

 

I'll be thinking of two men who love me.

You meet the nicest people...

 

...when you blog.

Last week when I was out shopping for paper for Miss Helping Hands birdies, I had the pleasure of seeing a Dear Reader in the store.

When I got home, I found this in my bag:

 

 

 

What a lovely surprise!

I love the stamp, but I love knowing that I was in someone's thoughts (in a positive way) even more.

I was slow getting to it, but I finally made a thank-you card from this stamp and got it in the mail.

 

 

 

After I'd gotten the image stamped and watercolored, I kind of felt like the crown needed a little more sparkle.

I used  just the tiniest bit of diamond glitter glue and it made all the difference.

 

 

 

Just like this gift made in my day.

A Flock of Paper Birds

 

Birds!

I love birdies.

I love real birdies.

And I love paper birdies.

And, apparently, all the girls in Miss Helping Hand Hannah's dorm love paper birdies, too.

When we made them (as door decs) two years ago, we never dreamed the girls would ask for them year after year.

But they have.

So we set out Saturday morning to make the last set of door decs of Miss Helping Hands' college career.

I had the pleasure of shopping for paper earlier in the week.

 

 

 

Ohhh, ahhh!

Our job is so much easier now that there are so many decorative papers with two 'faces'.

We used to have to glue two pieces together and it wasn't much fun.

We enjoyed our birdie workshop this time.

We sat at the kitchen table, with the sun coming through the blinds, and cut out 45 paper birds.

In the beginning, I was also cutting some smaller birds from the scraps, but I had to put that aside once we got cooking.

 

 

 

Pretty soon, our stack of birds and wings was growing.

(So was our pile of "error wings": you have to be careful to cut wings going in the correct direction for the side of the bird you are working on, and sometimes we just weren't!)

 

 

 

Within a couple of hours, we had all of our birds assembled and ready for eyes.

 

 

 

A dot of glue from a toothpick, and a flat blue sequin finishes the job.

 

 

 

Since one of the 'functions' of door decs is to serve as a name card, we added discs (two of them glued together with the fishing line in between) to the strings to hold the names.

Miss Helping Hands didn't have the roster with her, so she'll have to letter them when she returns to school.

 

 

 

In years past, we've hung the birdies with ribbon, but the fishing line is much better because it makes them look like they really are flying.

 

 

 

I just love seeing them all together.

When we were finished with all the big birdies, there was plenty of paper (and paper scraps) left over.

And until scraps are this small...

 

 

 

...I can't toss them out.

Besides, every spring calls for a new flock of small paper birds.

I cut my patterns out of plastic so they don't wear down with multiple tracings.

I think this one was cut from a worn-out document folder.

 

 

 

Whenever I sit down to listen to TV or to the Prince playing his guitar, I grab a few scraps and trace and cut some little birdies.

 

 

 

The two sides of this little birdie are quite different from each other.

 

 

 

 

I cut the top edge of the wing with regular scissors,  and I cut the bottom edge of the wing with decorative scissors.

This one is the postal edge.

 

 

 

After the wings are glued on ( I use a glue stick for that part), the little birdies are ready for their eyes.

I use a toothpick to put a dot of white glue on the bird (I love using this little pink button for my "glue pot")...

 

 

 

...then I use the same toothpick to grab a black (or blue, or green, or irridescent) seed bead and plop it  on the spot of glue.

 

 

 

These little birdies get set on 'nests', rather than hung on string.

I use a circle punch to make the nests from decorative papers.

Sometimes the papers are perfectly designed for this.

 

 

 

After I've punched a whole bunch of nests, I adhere a square of double-stick foam to them.

 

 

 

Then I turn them over and make a little slit through the paper and the foam with my Xacto knife.

 

 

 

The little birdie gets his bottom dipped in the white glue and...

 

 

 

...and now he has a permanent home!

 

 

 

Know what's even sweeter than one of these little paper birds?

A lot of little paper birds together!

 

 

 

A whole flock of them!

 

 

 

This year I was doing some 'finishing' of little birdies in the family room, and I lined them up on the mantle before I went to bed because I was too lazy to take them up to the studio.

 

 

 

It was only supposed to be for the night, but I loved the cheerfulness of them, so I brought some of their friends in to finish the line up!

 

 

 

Some of the little paper birdies are perched on the scales at the clinic where I work (for some strange reason, many folks need cheering up when they stand on those scales).

Some of the birdies sit atop picture frames there, or perch on the leaves of the artificial tree in the hallway.

Many of the little birdies have flown off to other parts of the country.

I would like to send some little birdies your way, too, Dear Reader.

Leave me a comment telling me what your favorite bird is and I'll have the Bored of Directors pick a winner on Monday.

I've got a book club meeting in 25 minutes.

I've gotta fly!

He rocks.

 

Did I ever tell you that the Prince is a guitarist?

Did I tell you I fell head over heels in love with him the first time he sang and played his guitar for me?

Yep.

I was a goner.

And it still has the same effect on me today.

Here lately, he's been composing some music of his own and I've been insisting he record it before it gets forgotten.

When he titled the sweet, lullaby-ish piece (which I absolutely loved) "Gwen", well, you can guess how that melted my little old heart.

And when the City of Oklahoma City used "Gwen" as the background music for their "Heart of the City" campaign, well, you can guess how happy I was for the Prince.

But when he brought home the City newsletter which featured an interview with him about his music...

 

 

 

And I read all the sweet things he'd said there and saw the photo he'd given them...

Well.

You just know that was my inchie moment for the day.

 

 

 

But now I must tell you the rest of the story.

 

  

 The people have a right to know.

 

Don't be skeered.

 

Remember waaaaaay back in November when Me Darlin' Mither and I went shopping for fabric to recover the seat cushion on her heirloom chair?

 

 

I let that little job hang over my head all these months because (since I had no experience with this type of fabric or this type of job) I was skeered.

What a mistake!

The fabric was a dream to sew on.

The zipper went in easy as pie.

And the piping was a cinch because the fabric gives nicely when you are turning corners.

I'm not saying I did a professional job or anything.

 

 

 

But I am saying it fit's my Grandmother's chair...

 

 

 

...I'm happy with it...

 

 

 

...and so is Me Darlin' Mither.

Vacation Plans

 

This fall we are going to be traveling to the North Carolina shore to spend a week in a house on the beach.

Sounds rough, doesn't it?

When we firmed up the dates a week or so ago, and actually put the trip down on the calendar, my excitement level went up exponentially.

We've never traveled by car in that direction, so I am gathering information about "don't miss" opportunities along the route.

We are going to make the trip at a leisurely pace, so we'll have time to stop and see parts of this country we've not seen before.

And that's where you come in, Dear Reader.

Do you have anything you'd like to recommend we see on the trip between Oklahoma City and Sunset Beach, North Carolina?

 

 

 

Inquiring minds want to know.

Lunch Plans

 

 

Soooooo.

The Saturday Miss Helping Hands and I made all that yummy goodness in the form of pies, cobblers, muffins, and apple crisp, it was just because we felt like baking.

Me Darlin' Mither was here, and I sent little of everything home with her.

Miss Helping Hands and Miss Mary Mack took a few muffins back to college with them.

And I put a few muffins in the hands of Dear Reader, Annski, when she stopped by.

But there were still leftovers.

And we'd been 'shunning sugar'.

So, Sunday after church, I asked Beeg Seester and Bro if they had lunch plans, and when the answer was "No" I told them we didn't either, but we had dessert ready for them.

The guys went off to snag some Subway sandwiches and Seester and I came home to lay the table.

During our lovely, low-key lunch we began discussing the inchie book I want to publish, and I told Seester that I was a bit perplexed.

"Some of the blog readers really want the book to focus on the stories behind the inchies, and some of my 'art friends' are more focused on the drawings themselves", I said, "but the book would be awfully long with all those stories and awfully short with only the inchies."

"Oh, you absolutely need to include both, just not all",  she said. "Show all the inchies, but just pick two or three stories from each month. And  definitely include the story about how the whole thing started."

Omigersh.

Why I didn't think of that?

Because, if I'd thought of that, I would have missed the blessing of being helped by someone who loves me enough to give thought to my 'stuff'.

And, if I'd thought of that, she would have missed the blessing of moving someone a step closer to fulfilling a dream.

As it is, we got all that...

 

 

 

...and a stinking good piece of pie.

I like scissors.

 

I like scissors.

I like my old, small scissors.

 

 

 

I like my old, big scissors.

 

 

 

I like my pretty little embroidery scissors.

 

 

 

I like my everyday scissors.

 

 

 

And I like my decorative-edge scissors.

 

 

 

I really, really like my kewl, curved-blade scissors that were given to me by Beeg Seester for no special reason except that she is nice like that.

 

 

 

But I couldn't find any of my small scissors last Friday night when I wanted to cut something teensy.

And it made me feel very badly about myself.

I have felt so privileged to own more than one pair of tiny scissors, that I felt equally rotten to think I had been careless with them.

I searched.

The Prince (seeing my distress) searched.

In vain.

I went to bed.

And when I got up Saturday morning, I was still feeling rotten.

I told God that I was so sorry I had treated my blessings so carelessly.

I told Dennis that I could see how it seemed ridiculous to be so upset by such a thing.

Then I searched again.

And I found all but one pair.

Then Miss Helping Hands and I proceeded to make a double batch of peach and sour cream muffins, a peach cobbler, an apple pie with crumb topping, and a pan of apple crisp.

And right smack dab in the middle of that cloud of flour, Dear Reader/New Friend Annski unexpectedly dropped by.

She brought me this:

 

 

 

She didn't know anything about my 'scissors sadness'.

She only knew I had been beating back the blackness of an inexplicable depression.

She brought me scissors because she knows I cut.

 

 

 

But God had them delivered on Saturday so I would know He loves me even in my careless, scissor-losing humanness.

 

 

 

You see how He loves?

You see how He uses people to show us?

It's amazing.

Keep looking down.

 

Or you might miss something priceless.

Something God made purely for pleasure.

Like the beautiful little crocus blooms at the edge of the flower bed.

 

 

 

And then what would you draw on your inchie for the day?

 

 

 

Could you really come up with something sweeter than that?

Well.

Could you?

Lift your heads!

 

Sometimes, without even noticing, we pass right by the beauty God has created for us to enjoy.

Other times, we purposely stop to enjoy it.

Still other times, He is good enough to startle us with it.

And those are wonderful moments.

When I had to work a full day on the third of March, I brought my lunch with me in hopes of spending  a little time with friends in the break room.

But half way through the morning I realized I was going to have to go home on my lunch hour and take care of something I had forgetten to do before I left for work.

I was really disappointed, and I kind of dragged myself out to the car to make the trip at noon.

I got in, started the car, and prepared to back out of my parking spot.

But when I raised my head, the view in front of me literally made my breath catch.

I had parked in front of an adjacent building, and the reflection of the blue sky and white clouds in the windows, along with the gorgeous blossoms on the tree which had spread it's branches in front of it, was absolutely stunning.

The photos couldn't do it justice.

 

 
 

 

And it fared even worse on the inchie.

 

 

 

But God and I both know what I saw.

And how I thank Him for it.

Laughing in the Street

 

With the advent of (some) spring weather, I have resumed my long walks on the mean streets.

I walked up to the fabric store to get some thread last week and passed some nice fat robins on my way out of the neighborhood.

Sometimes, when the world around me seems a little scary, I take a lot of comfort in the presence and the songs of the birds.

Seeing the robins, all fat and happy, for the first time this spring, did my soul good.

 

 

 

This year, the Prince has taken to joining me on my walks occasionally.

That does my soul good, too.

The second time he tagged along this season, we were about a mile and a half out when he started thinking (out loud) that maybe we'd gone far enough.

I told him "I haven't found my coins yet. We might have to walk for quite awhile".

"Well, can we do it in the direction of the house?"

"I guess so. But we'd better take a different route home."

Now, I've told you before that I find, almost exclusively, dimes and pennies on the street.

We started talking about that, and I told the Prince my new working theory about why there aren't any quarters and nickels.

"I think it's because dimes and pennies are lighter and thinner than the other coins. They probably slip though holes in pockets and out of our hands easier than other coins. And maybe we don't hear them drop as easily because they are lighter."

"Makes sense" said the Prince.

We were about four blocks from the house when I realized we'd really slowed down the pace, so I decided to rev it up a bit.

The Prince told me to forge ahead, he didn't want to hold me back.

I pressed on.

I'm guessing I didn't get twenty paces before he yelled out, "Hey! You missed something!"

I walked back.

He was holding out the coin I'd passed by.

 

 

 

It was a quarter.

He tried to get me to take it for my collection.

"But, I didn't find it and I just told you that I only find dimes and pennies".

I told him I thought it was sheer perfection that he'd found the quarter.

He's always wanted more money than I've wanted.

He tried to insist that I take it, but I think maybe he was just afraid he would have to walk forever before I found my coins.

We were still walking and talking about it when, mere yards later, I said "Aha! There's my penny!"

And when I knelt down to pick it up...

 

 

 

...I found a dime, too.

We both laughed.

Neither of us believed it was simply coincidence that we'd each found the coins we had.

I took mine home and added them to my other rescued coins from this spring.

 

 

 

And I still smile when I remember how we sensed the presence and friendship of God in that funny little episode on the mean streets.

Something went wrong.

 

 

If I don't have time (or energy, or focus, or inspiration) to draw my inchie at the end of the day, I will jot notes on my desk "blotter" so I don't forget my blessings.

When five or six days go by and I'm still just making notes (which is what happened last week), I start to get really nervous.

In the last four days I have drawn eleven inchies.

I don't know how it happened, but I have an extra inchie.

And dang if I don't absolutely love it and  wish I could invent another week day just so I could use it!

I think it actually belonged to February 28, but neither the Prince nor I can remember.

I drew the coin I found on the first walk we took together this spring. 

 

 

 

It will go so nicely in my collection of rescued money.

 

 

 
 

 

But I guess the inchie will have to go in my collection of inchies that didn't make the cut.

Yep, there is one. 

"Monday, Monday. Can't trust that day."

 

 

Last Monday morning I woke up with a lump in my throat, feeling totally spent.

And, although I can pray for you with great faith and fervor, it's still a tremendous challenge for me to ask God for something for myself.

As in: "God, I think I need someone to reach out to me today."

I cannot tell you how grateful I am that He graced me to utter that prayer.

I cannot begin to tell you how kind and faithful He is to answer those prayers.

But I can tell you that when Cable Guy and his Bride called us at work to say they wanted to have us over for a special dinner...

...I nearly wept at the goodness of God.

You may not be able to trust Monday, but you can trust God.

We had a wonderful visit.

We had one of the most delicious meals we've had in months.

We enjoyed seeing a family we love moving about in their own sweet home.

And I got to tell them...

 

 
 

  

"You are an answer to prayer." 

Thank you, Dear Readers!

 

 

I appreciate each and every one of you who weighed in on my last post.

It seems #11 is the Speaker of the House to a great extent, and I offer her my hearty congratulations.

However...

We do seem to have a house divided in regard to how to present the inchies on the other blog, so I still haven't reached any conclusions.

Maybe I should post them both ways?

I'm glad to know that there are no decision deadlines except those that are self-imposed.

And I don't feel like imposing on myself.

Soooo...

I'll just keep drawing, posting on this here blogarooney, and mulling things over.

Right now, though, I'm on a ten-minute break from bird-building with Miss Helping Hands.

And I gotta get back before she throws in the scissors.

I need you.

 

Hello, Dear Readers.

I need your help.

Not too long after starting the 'inchie project', I decided to start another blog just for the inchies.

Thing is, I got so busy that I never did develop it to the point where I wanted to tell anyone about it.

Part of the 'blogkeeping' work I am doing this week includes re-photographing the last year's inchies and putting them in order on their own blog.

The inchie-dedicated blog will not include the stories; just the date and the photo of the inchie.

I would like to have your opionion on whether or not to include the penny in the photos.

Here is what the blog would look like with the penny included:

March 1, 2010

 

March 2, 2010

 

March 3, 2010

 

 

 

And here's what it would look like without the penny:

 

March 1, 2010

 

March 2, 2010

 

 

March 3, 2010

 

 

 

If you read this blog and have never posted a comment, I'd really like to hear from you now.

And for those who are so faithful to encourage me regularly: thank you in advance for your feedback.

It may seem like a simple little thing, but I have 365 inchies waiting for an answer.

No, wait!

There are more than that...

 

 

...because I've decided to keep going.

Blogkeeping

 

Hey, kids!

I've missed you.

I've been busy making decisions (and birdies, and paper mache eggs, and pies, and seat cushion covers...).

I am going to be doing some 'blogkeeping' and 'inchieventory' for the next week or two.

Since both things require that I sit still in front of the computer, which I find very difficult to do in the spring time, it may mean that I don't post for awhile (of course, I may just post something new tomorrow - my highs and lows have been as extreme as the weather lately).

Anywho...

Until then, I leave you with the latest picture of "What the Sofa Cushion Next to Me Looks Like Tonight":

 

The birds are hatching.

...one! Won?

 

The inchie for February 28 completes my year of drawing and watercoloring an inchie a day.

The 'catalog of gratitude'  -  for some of the blessings which have been part of my life over the last year -  is now complete.

It's been a wonderful experience.

Somehow, it seems funny to me that the last inchie has to do with money.

I have been socking away some money in my (now mostly unused) checking account for awhile, because Miss Helping Hands and I are planning a little trip to celebrate her upcoming college graduation.

I write only one or two checks a month on the account, so I hadn't bothered balancing my register for several months.

I was whittling away at a stack of mail (paperwork: the bane of my existence) and decided to get the account statements out of my way.

I made the pleasant discovery that I'd forgotten to enter one of my deposits in the register.

 

 

 

So now I know I'm that much closer to lying on the beach in Southern California.

------

Since I am a firm believer that there ought to be gifts involved if one is celebrating a birthday, and since this is the first birthday celebration of my inchie journal, I made a little inchie greeting card that I would like to give to one of you, Dear Readers (my apologies - I had to use my flash to get the photo, so it's a bit washed out).

 

 

 

 

And I know you can't see it, but it says Happy Birthday at the bottom of the hat.

 

 

 

 

I will mail it in a separate envelope so you can actually use the card and envelope I am giving away.

Just leave a comment here telling me which of the year's inchies you enjoyed most, and why.

I'll be choosing a winner on Monday, March 7.

I won't be doing a random drawing this time, though.

I'm going to read your comments (leaving out your names) to my Bored of Directors and let them choose a winner.

They'd love to hear from you.

And so would I. 

...two...

 

Continuing the countdown of my first inchie year...

February 27 -

We were in our hotel room in Stillwater, USA, and I was having my morning coffee and looking out the (third story) window at the view when I heard singing.

I looked down to see that the top of a bare tree just below us was crowded with birds.

I hadn't brought my camera bag up to the room.

The Prince was just sure the birds would be gone by the time he got back with it, but he asked me if I wanted him to fetch it anyway.

Guess what?

 

 

 

They waited for him.

When I looked at them through my telephoto lens, I realized I had no idea what kind of birds they were.

I always get excited about seeing a species of bird for the first time.

And these guys, who looked so dull from a distance, sure had a variety of color in their feathers.

See that one little spot of red and the bright yellow tips on their tailfeathers?

 

 

 

Look at all the shades of brown and gray!

And their undersides are pale yellow.

 

 

 

If I ever do find my bird book, I can mark off...

 

 

 

...the cedar waxwing.

Because now we've met.