tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61872786822792948212024-03-14T00:19:23.821-06:00Yarn OverRachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05145855756986253836noreply@blogger.comBlogger1182125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187278682279294821.post-74358646459334381522023-10-07T17:16:00.000-06:002023-10-07T17:17:08.077-06:00Got the Stuffing Knocked Out of ItToday was one of those lovely days, where I didn't have to be anywhere and I didn't have to do anything. It was one of those lovely and rare Pajama Days.<div><br></div><div>Of course, since I can only sit still for so long, I decided to combine those two things and wore my pajamas AND got some things done that have been waiting on my to-do list.</div><div><br></div><div>Namely, re-stuffing the pillows.</div><div><br></div><div>Our family is really hard on pillows. Either we have huge heads (which many of my family do, we're talking Olmec proportions, here), or I buy cheap pillows. Both are most likely true.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgvJP2RFtX96WIOZTzYBxmWZwntYEMFB3r3PVPqOituGVCWuujbU3-nVYTMDoefKM8pKGEz9tVsZvFracUn0z-qIe4KgCoCiOVvyfN9Fu3CmghAkPngYDD4pLePENyMHMLIyJiifAxZHNM4nzEx6A2gGp981vqrm3Z1P7cj36qsy4pCUUSCNGJdLX2x0F8" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">
<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgvJP2RFtX96WIOZTzYBxmWZwntYEMFB3r3PVPqOituGVCWuujbU3-nVYTMDoefKM8pKGEz9tVsZvFracUn0z-qIe4KgCoCiOVvyfN9Fu3CmghAkPngYDD4pLePENyMHMLIyJiifAxZHNM4nzEx6A2gGp981vqrm3Z1P7cj36qsy4pCUUSCNGJdLX2x0F8" width="400">
</a>
</div><br></div><div>So, I had five, rather sad, deflated pillows. I could have just thrown them away, but of course I knew that as soon as I did, someone would need a pillow. It's Murphy's law.</div><div><br></div><div>So, I picked a sacrificial pillow, one that had loose stuffing, and lobotomized it. I used its innards to fluff out the other four.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjR-R196KX8_YvfxKgcU-dtKWGZ5lgemUV7Wa7LiOdKQEidbKTiGSwwG5_ZXLOEQQlZAU-Csk4PrUJfgOmGOC1V-TZQA4XZjm2usccDkIguUH_tZeOIneY097sO7ghz4SwinuIQOTO2X5ijkbh7UgDg0zPI5-4RqhgQBKcjST3GNO1cD8rfaAJ_IBlVsis" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">
<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjR-R196KX8_YvfxKgcU-dtKWGZ5lgemUV7Wa7LiOdKQEidbKTiGSwwG5_ZXLOEQQlZAU-Csk4PrUJfgOmGOC1V-TZQA4XZjm2usccDkIguUH_tZeOIneY097sO7ghz4SwinuIQOTO2X5ijkbh7UgDg0zPI5-4RqhgQBKcjST3GNO1cD8rfaAJ_IBlVsis" width="400">
</a>
</div><br></div><div> When I was done, instead of five emaciated pillows, I had four rotund pillows.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg9svHjXeHSRyjXzyavngvBLvdUbskxaq5dlze-ah2AiZFTaUDGaEkd4eBNJFYtAwscZHsD-8h7W1D-SaWLWcT4GwpuDl5N0YfLWiFKlS14Zqxdu30VOmne0yFIJYxL1j90osTPtZswPTR70FeMP43hPxi9vxeYHKYcPp-G1E0Dg1D2YYAax43jpDI7paM" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">
<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg9svHjXeHSRyjXzyavngvBLvdUbskxaq5dlze-ah2AiZFTaUDGaEkd4eBNJFYtAwscZHsD-8h7W1D-SaWLWcT4GwpuDl5N0YfLWiFKlS14Zqxdu30VOmne0yFIJYxL1j90osTPtZswPTR70FeMP43hPxi9vxeYHKYcPp-G1E0Dg1D2YYAax43jpDI7paM" width="400">
</a>
</div><br></div><div>(Yes, this is probably a bit of a pointless endeavor because I could just buy pillows, but there's something satisfying about finding a way to make something last longer.)<br></div><div><br></div><div>I also made sure to label my own pillow. Someone always tries stealing it, and this way they can't claim innocence, bwahahaha! *insert evil laugh*</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgmFYV2bG81T7DF5xIdQDoeXJesQg5WCP2RWIUrBy27JmJD_lgTQ8n96_4WR_JLnXgRO1VOPrn6cjy60qVvu6xqi_lnMXfhq2BTe44P1UHA-8W5u4GaRB9gQ8834uSpdKV6LBXOMGuxpF9gng9b7w1JIqR2G-zd3v2s5c9ukNwSsi77hdsmS4h-OEC6sso" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">
<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgmFYV2bG81T7DF5xIdQDoeXJesQg5WCP2RWIUrBy27JmJD_lgTQ8n96_4WR_JLnXgRO1VOPrn6cjy60qVvu6xqi_lnMXfhq2BTe44P1UHA-8W5u4GaRB9gQ8834uSpdKV6LBXOMGuxpF9gng9b7w1JIqR2G-zd3v2s5c9ukNwSsi77hdsmS4h-OEC6sso" width="400">
</a>
</div><br></div>Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05145855756986253836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187278682279294821.post-50848459482776072442023-09-24T16:24:00.001-06:002023-09-24T16:24:54.324-06:00Feeding my FamilyI've had several really good days in a row, which has resulted in a flurry of baked goods. There's something so satisfying about seeing rows upon rows of homemade raspberry poppy seed muffins.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhyQDqGtoTbDIEDWZycqmuuPK8QFu_H56HzEZpZeV8Ob0t9jKmXrRt895aY0Izgm7i3z3hFQmeGwLqXKB6yVMnaqAokhCoZqBENDx3ti9oHaLWCGBu2mS6EIwH9tgXCNt8WHn-UcpV7jt-LmdxekCYC0f8CEw8VZLtlpsNZgqtnmLio_nl-N-wShTjG_KE" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">
<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhyQDqGtoTbDIEDWZycqmuuPK8QFu_H56HzEZpZeV8Ob0t9jKmXrRt895aY0Izgm7i3z3hFQmeGwLqXKB6yVMnaqAokhCoZqBENDx3ti9oHaLWCGBu2mS6EIwH9tgXCNt8WHn-UcpV7jt-LmdxekCYC0f8CEw8VZLtlpsNZgqtnmLio_nl-N-wShTjG_KE" width="400">
</a>
</div><br><div>The knowledge that my family will get to enjoy them feeds something deep in my soul. </div><div><br></div><div>Maybe appreciate it. Maybe they won't. </div><div><br></div><div>(Three of them are teens, after all. One is ever mindful of "the gains, Mom, I gotta watch the GAINS!" The second doesn't ever seem to be hungry when dinner is ready, and the third commicates almost entirely with grunts That could mean anything from, "This is the best food I've ever HAD!!!" to, "I would rather eat dirt".)</div><div><br></div><div>Still, I find such joy in getting my hands covered in flour and kneading up a fresh batch of bread for sandwiches or soup. <br><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhDSPjon4Be4CqpOI45WUM0Us-YB14gWmYaPQy6-9JY0z8aY1wOjc7u2-varB5SVxfV_2swihdH4uCzFlhEVRxAQfy1MXNYos5cpVlxV_HmnhlIT35-hrrDoSQNjqVntF-Het0eJ-84SdkVzpZPHeg0sMzLhPxyyZU43G7wKl2eoVOI6W3VGvgOPygrvVQ" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">
<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhDSPjon4Be4CqpOI45WUM0Us-YB14gWmYaPQy6-9JY0z8aY1wOjc7u2-varB5SVxfV_2swihdH4uCzFlhEVRxAQfy1MXNYos5cpVlxV_HmnhlIT35-hrrDoSQNjqVntF-Het0eJ-84SdkVzpZPHeg0sMzLhPxyyZU43G7wKl2eoVOI6W3VGvgOPygrvVQ" width="400">
</a>
</div></div><div>It's not miraculous or marvelous, but I hope these simple acts of love feed their hearts. </div>Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05145855756986253836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187278682279294821.post-26241724279515617652023-07-17T09:39:00.001-06:002023-07-17T09:39:22.925-06:00Kelp DreamsLike so many of us poor, beleaguered insomniacs, I have explored the wide world of ways to help myself fall asleep and stay asleep and sleep deeply.<div><br></div><div>(You people in the back who don't have this problem, just shush for your own personal safety. We insomniacs might hate you. Just a little.)</div><div><br></div><div>Anyway, the other night I took some kelp supplements, which are supposedly high in iodine and other things that are magical and sleep-inducing.</div><div><br></div><div>The next morning, I woke up, having had a vivid dream in which I was interviewing one of my favorite actors, Ji Chang Wook. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEis4Y--kHgEXQSMEQrQ4nPOhYnLv8hyR0cZtyPLq6cFe6iTLsi1ncoH4eJLnRus3Cz-TYl6fxFBjgC2crsNqzTUznSQXT3DLCsx0NZ38xEKbq88ptTOwFjJie3qXcg98RcDYRfCDRyCSDDX3DoiOowyG44PLWslVXO1kITTHCQstdADu8D8Xx1MeF_E2qU" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">
<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEis4Y--kHgEXQSMEQrQ4nPOhYnLv8hyR0cZtyPLq6cFe6iTLsi1ncoH4eJLnRus3Cz-TYl6fxFBjgC2crsNqzTUznSQXT3DLCsx0NZ38xEKbq88ptTOwFjJie3qXcg98RcDYRfCDRyCSDDX3DoiOowyG44PLWslVXO1kITTHCQstdADu8D8Xx1MeF_E2qU" width="400">
</a>
</div><br></div><div>He was lovely and charming, and we quickly bonded over a light dinner of Mac and Cheese waffles which were topped with fried chicken and drizzled with a sweet Sriracha sauce glaze.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjGB7jQEFnhzE_3OgTc29ViLQZnv8XKJi8n_cfRpxl1pGd4td8o8H4z3w0UdfGfhMwQvZcGWGbarrhSPwGWg2KMx6XeGmOVOjyuTLZ1j03KK06xJtpoZa7z0nUC9R22-rOzj-PLQEgT1BKJzVNE4pEGLLi463pgipPoj4yN_yYguZlHzuHcfxvg8SiaYTM" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">
<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjGB7jQEFnhzE_3OgTc29ViLQZnv8XKJi8n_cfRpxl1pGd4td8o8H4z3w0UdfGfhMwQvZcGWGbarrhSPwGWg2KMx6XeGmOVOjyuTLZ1j03KK06xJtpoZa7z0nUC9R22-rOzj-PLQEgT1BKJzVNE4pEGLLi463pgipPoj4yN_yYguZlHzuHcfxvg8SiaYTM" width="400">
</a>
</div><br></div><div>At some point during this fabulous dream, I must have fallen into a food coma (a dream within a dream?) because the next thing I "remember" was waking up to find myself alone at the table, my reporter's notebook lying forlorn and empty in front of me. I desperately flipped through the pages, hoping for some note of farewell from my favorite actor, but alas, there was none.</div><div><br></div><div>I awoke, thoroughly despondent and craving chicken fried waffles. </div><div>😭😭😭😭😭</div><div><br></div><div>Never meet your heroes, even in your dreams. </div>Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05145855756986253836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187278682279294821.post-34823952226462587142023-07-16T13:44:00.000-06:002023-07-16T13:44:03.651-06:00Rambling at the Conservatory <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We are so fortunate to be part of a local homeschool group called the Ramblers. Every week, we get together and ramble about, learning about nature or exploring a new wildlife area.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A few weeks ago, Gabe and I decided to start the exploration early by rambling to one of our favorite places to eat, KBQ (Korean Bar-be-que). The spicy fried chicken is, in Gabe's words, "like dying, but worth it."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgCP-C79eWUBOT4Ir16Y1ed0lKGNbfkEVekuO81BMHp0bFgaBha9YMGCYKYjdSIH4b_I6W5CozKa1A5VlzRnu8GpPoEpT0oN48iRnhfGIYBsgGnhw5-sCFFjV_k3Qus9F1eNmL4g90gVnsUuH9sqZDkfbcbS9saOxH0mNLCkwo6fyNcGt8AQVhciqmlvxs" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">
<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgCP-C79eWUBOT4Ir16Y1ed0lKGNbfkEVekuO81BMHp0bFgaBha9YMGCYKYjdSIH4b_I6W5CozKa1A5VlzRnu8GpPoEpT0oN48iRnhfGIYBsgGnhw5-sCFFjV_k3Qus9F1eNmL4g90gVnsUuH9sqZDkfbcbS9saOxH0mNLCkwo6fyNcGt8AQVhciqmlvxs" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It's been awhile since I got to spend one-on-one time, with Gabe, so it was a nice afternoon. Gabe is the middle child, and exhibits many middle-child traits. Since I am also a middle-child, I can commiserate with some of his emotional struggles. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgCP-C79eWUBOT4Ir16Y1ed0lKGNbfkEVekuO81BMHp0bFgaBha9YMGCYKYjdSIH4b_I6W5CozKa1A5VlzRnu8GpPoEpT0oN48iRnhfGIYBsgGnhw5-sCFFjV_k3Qus9F1eNmL4g90gVnsUuH9sqZDkfbcbS9saOxH0mNLCkwo6fyNcGt8AQVhciqmlvxs" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">
</a>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjl3cqzpqy3sjTpFY_o3EgBr5yLDkaWw4fAALrAJLfCQA51eMfs33t7l1H5HChZ2FHCNRF5NTPvEJ0XoQ_oJZahTYoK5S2ul6Ea3iIS3mnKe_5YBI8Kwvn-qBHvexS6WDHdsU-axrnIYfqazyllFf4I3YWqDPlc9AtYzkK-BYBwTn_g_TBjr3k8jHdJlqE" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">
<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjl3cqzpqy3sjTpFY_o3EgBr5yLDkaWw4fAALrAJLfCQA51eMfs33t7l1H5HChZ2FHCNRF5NTPvEJ0XoQ_oJZahTYoK5S2ul6Ea3iIS3mnKe_5YBI8Kwvn-qBHvexS6WDHdsU-axrnIYfqazyllFf4I3YWqDPlc9AtYzkK-BYBwTn_g_TBjr3k8jHdJlqE" width="400" />
</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"Wait," I can hear you saying. "Don't you have <i>four </i>kids? How can you have a middle child when you have four kids?"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Let me explain.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Peter is an only child. He has never acted like he has siblings, and does not acknowledge any familial relationship with them.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Bee is classic oldest child, and has a greater awareness of her siblings than their father does. (This is not a castigation against their father. She, however, knows everyone's birthdays . . .)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Ella is <i>definitely</i> the baby.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">That leaves Gabe as </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b>The Man in the Middle.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhYrrCejgASXhrIn2DhnJOye203vHGHoACyW4RB86rsqa1m1BeBBWRzO4PXgobkbKNr4aPTiPs-Do5kn12zX4DIMVfC5raBdw9TfBuYjpBpiAGXMk4btARKOFlhg1LPL_ZUDhDRdC1vmnFa2AiXm1BVR6KEzDYYjg2OY8T08eSylOBd_SSBfVzjpnp0dXk" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">
<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhYrrCejgASXhrIn2DhnJOye203vHGHoACyW4RB86rsqa1m1BeBBWRzO4PXgobkbKNr4aPTiPs-Do5kn12zX4DIMVfC5raBdw9TfBuYjpBpiAGXMk4btARKOFlhg1LPL_ZUDhDRdC1vmnFa2AiXm1BVR6KEzDYYjg2OY8T08eSylOBd_SSBfVzjpnp0dXk" width="400" />
</a>
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Once our palates had cooled, we met up with the rest of the Ramblers at the Nicholas Conservatory and Gardens for a lovely perambulation (great word, isn't it?!) through their gorgeous facility. We've been there several times, but this was the first time to get a tour, and it was a treat. I'm so glad we went!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhncplYEua5_bF786_NvnBhQzM4q2vIn7RSJEb6Cbg4FV7mBzn1TZZK8W-ubgNu4c_l9kK6iZZmYVOD9P23mzLQooOK3T4kvXPFWkxQOvht3o0hgTdOYpdeMt6v-L90GQ1vUlVFU946qTo_s-OwDk3SZV5kCbkvX9e39Gp76PYVao1YTEm4wBhBmFUc5P8" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">
<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhncplYEua5_bF786_NvnBhQzM4q2vIn7RSJEb6Cbg4FV7mBzn1TZZK8W-ubgNu4c_l9kK6iZZmYVOD9P23mzLQooOK3T4kvXPFWkxQOvht3o0hgTdOYpdeMt6v-L90GQ1vUlVFU946qTo_s-OwDk3SZV5kCbkvX9e39Gp76PYVao1YTEm4wBhBmFUc5P8" width="400" />
</a>
</div>Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05145855756986253836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187278682279294821.post-8007196217813158792023-07-15T18:36:00.000-06:002023-07-15T18:36:39.218-06:00Gathering my Courage<div><br></div>Until my mobility became more limited, I never understood how much courage it took for a disabled person to <i>just leave the house</i>.<div><br></div><div>There's so much I took for granted that now I have to consider in detail whenever I go anywhere.</div><div><br></div><div><i>Can I get my wheelchair out by myself? (It's 50 pounds)</i></div><div><i><br></i></div><div><i>Will there be someone who can help me get it back in the car? What if no one's walking by? </i>(Also, the embarrassment of having to ask a total stranger for help)</div><div><br></div><div><i>Will there be snow? Wheelchairs have </i>wheels -- they don't maneuver well AT ALL in even the smallest dusting of snow.</div><div><br></div><div><i>What if the curbs aren't ramped? I might have to drive on the street.... </i>(A bump of 1" is impassable for the front castors without significant help. Also, wheeling on a street when I am <i>below sight level </i>for any car backing up or pulling out is ... terrifying)</div><div><br></div><div>All this fear runs through my head parallel to the excitement of going shopping by myself. (I am an introvert. Going shopping by myself tops my list of Things To Pamper Myself)</div><div><br></div><div>Case in point, the other morning, I had a haircut appointment downtown. I got out my Huli-Huli (wheelchair) by myself <i>(Yay!)</i> and turned it on. Very low battery. (<i>Oh no!</i>)</div><div><br></div><div>Drove myself down the beautifully renovated downtown sidewalk, that has FANTASTIC ramps onto the sidewalk (<i>Yay!) </i>and got to my hair salon. Asked if I could charge my chair while I get my haircut. My chair won't turn back on. (<i>Oh no!)</i></div><div><i><br></i></div><div>So here I sit, feeling conflicting emotions that batter at my courage. It's a beautiful space. The sun is shining, there is pleasant music playing and everyone is so kind.</div><div><br></div><div>-- but I'm stuck here if the battery is dead. </div><div><br></div><div>My car is a <i>flurrying</i> (my personal f-word) block away, and <i>I can't even get there. </i>I can literally<i> see </i>it from where I sit<i>. </i>I'm close to tears. I feel so pathetic. </div><div><br></div><div>But then, my husband comes to my rescue and swings by. He takes one look at it, presses the power button, and it immediately turns on, just as it should (<i>Yay!)</i></div><div><i><br></i></div><div>And then the full weight of my see-sawing, turbulent emotions crashes down on me, because it is at that moment I realize - <i><b>I had been pressing the wrong button the whole time. </b></i></div><div><i><b><br></b></i></div><div>Ugh. I'll go on more solitary excursions again, just . . . not till until after I regain some equilibrium. </div><div><i><br></i></div>Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05145855756986253836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187278682279294821.post-22787090680639145192023-07-08T13:25:00.001-06:002023-07-08T13:25:57.821-06:00Oil Pastel PlumeriaI've been watching some interesting TikTok videos lately about using oil pastels, so I wanted to give it a try. I have trouble with landscapes, because I get too caught up in the details and I struggle with broader strokes. My hope is that using oil pastels will force me to be more "general" in my sketching.<br><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg_vrnTTJJU-o8S04j5hjF0j_6jxsIOsHNd4nIR2cMa8fFU2QG3PKAuGEh0zET1QbeWblfg-8cAhKeHVvT5uD9tkCVO184bi2ji7oGfEfralsInlZgegSGsznnjUEEgFjL2r6J7NDARiqhG4xbWRBfsUCYiCuODDdFJ2IJHKdXXDf2kZoThVzwmZZeoxRY" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">
<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg_vrnTTJJU-o8S04j5hjF0j_6jxsIOsHNd4nIR2cMa8fFU2QG3PKAuGEh0zET1QbeWblfg-8cAhKeHVvT5uD9tkCVO184bi2ji7oGfEfralsInlZgegSGsznnjUEEgFjL2r6J7NDARiqhG4xbWRBfsUCYiCuODDdFJ2IJHKdXXDf2kZoThVzwmZZeoxRY" width="400">
</a>
</div></div><div><br></div><div>This was my first attempt at something, and it was really more just to get a feel for the medium.</div><div><br></div><div>Oil pastels are interesting. When you draw them on the paper, it looks a lot like crayons. However, they are much softer, so you can use your finger or some paper towel to smudge the colors. This makes a really cool blending effect that I really enjoyed working with.</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgMWIzVw7owEg87F3WRukO0GC_MGQaHn_eEQU0ZnoVeX4lMaj4R9qn-qw9XFIDIE_jtMuiJS0uLoPlSC1q1Kt45ylVVqW-d_Nxfho2jvTLos1QaJdBiGeX6Hu_fXRQTkjNL9PQzmetKaC6B6PiJ1DkrESVvPJGH-pc0RQGUFRPmGFGwTAsKnzZfO9mqKig" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">
<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgMWIzVw7owEg87F3WRukO0GC_MGQaHn_eEQU0ZnoVeX4lMaj4R9qn-qw9XFIDIE_jtMuiJS0uLoPlSC1q1Kt45ylVVqW-d_Nxfho2jvTLos1QaJdBiGeX6Hu_fXRQTkjNL9PQzmetKaC6B6PiJ1DkrESVvPJGH-pc0RQGUFRPmGFGwTAsKnzZfO9mqKig" width="400">
</a>
</div><br></div><div><br></div><div>This particular sketch isn't all great, but I didn't have high expectations for it to begin with, since it was my first attempt. </div><div><br></div><div>All-in-all, I think I'll enjoy dabbling with my new hobby! </div>Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05145855756986253836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187278682279294821.post-60577926046714926962023-01-26T00:37:00.000-06:002023-01-26T00:37:39.445-06:00Sunrise to Sunset<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgv5XabQ1v472DdZX--lZIcB0O0EsPWAJkSbwoHtR1htwzY33Gm6z30qUCzyRXDCMUaVE8rRulW8k8Ss-p-ZR0YFN1l83zXXi-4pzT1Ku-LBUzWMS1Jr-hb0hYA36O5WUfLTRahsQ899MZ13ruSkt1TXzEq0SA_AqVdVS25vQbYzLxdTzKLmJdzZo9/s5641/IMG_2815.JPG" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="3761" data-original-width="5641" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgv5XabQ1v472DdZX--lZIcB0O0EsPWAJkSbwoHtR1htwzY33Gm6z30qUCzyRXDCMUaVE8rRulW8k8Ss-p-ZR0YFN1l83zXXi-4pzT1Ku-LBUzWMS1Jr-hb0hYA36O5WUfLTRahsQ899MZ13ruSkt1TXzEq0SA_AqVdVS25vQbYzLxdTzKLmJdzZo9/s320/IMG_2815.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Thanks to the time difference between The Frigid North and The Islands, I usually find myself waking up with plenty of time to catch a sunrise (providing I'm near the eastern side of The Island). Today, Ella and I headed to the nearby Waimanalo Beach. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6nQiD8XZnijgfbd7jRk95apE-2PF54Oz9LpoLDlBFiJZD3jg-RW27BtmyJCFforGT0Awljpjuube0Tz3AkhSrv6j_FraBtpwA6YAjTXY1Sx6SeghBVD802CfRGLBtnzLXwRIc6NMMOL2rwxPRr4-rYe00lG0ZQHfYMbC-Mzy-gD5v915aAiCe8z-0/s6000/IMG_2812.JPG" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6nQiD8XZnijgfbd7jRk95apE-2PF54Oz9LpoLDlBFiJZD3jg-RW27BtmyJCFforGT0Awljpjuube0Tz3AkhSrv6j_FraBtpwA6YAjTXY1Sx6SeghBVD802CfRGLBtnzLXwRIc6NMMOL2rwxPRr4-rYe00lG0ZQHfYMbC-Mzy-gD5v915aAiCe8z-0/s320/IMG_2812.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">It was quiet, with no tourists, and only the sound of the wind and waves and the occasional coo of a Morning Dove. I don't think there's any better soundtrack in the whole world. With my toes in the sand and the ocean in front of me, it's like I can feel that tight kink inside of me, the one that steadily gets tighter the longer winter goes on . . . relax.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEpwc2PjoPa9IXD8QxVFyiADCCOQYmVXtMfJ9P43aQXoDGytVZIN7Kzva-iAlvvWMb7Io45FSKL_Jeimh1ukJMd_dimGGcusMSy2pG4_x_Rhe066hFRL1nF4zPRMzEjqX1c_OklP9izXyG3yBqgxHH4R4CLk6LS8QH1NLsdSx65TDxFJrQML-FIn3s/s6000/IMG_2816.JPG" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEpwc2PjoPa9IXD8QxVFyiADCCOQYmVXtMfJ9P43aQXoDGytVZIN7Kzva-iAlvvWMb7Io45FSKL_Jeimh1ukJMd_dimGGcusMSy2pG4_x_Rhe066hFRL1nF4zPRMzEjqX1c_OklP9izXyG3yBqgxHH4R4CLk6LS8QH1NLsdSx65TDxFJrQML-FIn3s/s320/IMG_2816.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu9H2QcXy2ubv3CJAY0nEPUtgnLq3BcZCT8Ng7WiE_M7wDW4RiQ1DYIwVvonRKIIdxuRdJBNgsgj5DVPvdPnCOyaQ8QP2r1l0mOo-R024PLcEe2_IM1GV0oUzdRyAJAzcPeqKLb-5CKXXXj_cd1o1ed4E3DeyqfBHK5e8sxY-TVBhQPCSOdZzE3-UU/s6000/IMG_2825.JPG" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="6000" data-original-width="4000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu9H2QcXy2ubv3CJAY0nEPUtgnLq3BcZCT8Ng7WiE_M7wDW4RiQ1DYIwVvonRKIIdxuRdJBNgsgj5DVPvdPnCOyaQ8QP2r1l0mOo-R024PLcEe2_IM1GV0oUzdRyAJAzcPeqKLb-5CKXXXj_cd1o1ed4E3DeyqfBHK5e8sxY-TVBhQPCSOdZzE3-UU/s320/IMG_2825.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Going from one happy place to another, after Waimanalo, we drove along the east side of The Island, until we got to Kaneohe. Hunger (and 12 months without local food) dictated we stop for breakfast. We found a charming little restaurant called Cafe Kalawe. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Ella was happy because she got pancakes. I was happy because I got Loco Moco, which, if you haven't heard of it, is an amazing, artery-clogging combination of rice, hamburger patty, fried egg, and brown gravy. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://scontent.fhnl3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.30808-6/326947232_1164301767549735_5939578735677559759_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s1080x2048&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=8bfeb9&_nc_ohc=JyW6pHKVSKQAX_UQDLY&_nc_ht=scontent.fhnl3-1.fna&oh=00_AfCzCgwP0VLmkn_OYPbMZ_sg9HYvolrr3MA2lp_9h6zpNg&oe=63D64C94" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://scontent.fhnl3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.30808-6/326947232_1164301767549735_5939578735677559759_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s1080x2048&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=8bfeb9&_nc_ohc=JyW6pHKVSKQAX_UQDLY&_nc_ht=scontent.fhnl3-1.fna&oh=00_AfCzCgwP0VLmkn_OYPbMZ_sg9HYvolrr3MA2lp_9h6zpNg&oe=63D64C94" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">From there, we continued around the island, past beautiful beaches on the right and the gorgeous Ko'olau Mountains on the right. It's a long drive (about an hour), but so gorgeous. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Our destination was Shark's Cove. Ella was hoping we would be able to snorkel there, but the wave forecast wasn't promising, and sure enough, the cove was WAY too dangerous. I don't think I've ever seen such huge waves, although I know that it's not that uncommon for this time of year.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiez3WcbIglpGU17R8utRmJARaIib9v1IXneyP-4Mn3_FTyXrTVd3sdqUtNPJNwJsBk_ksWlVrSN1Zv7tThquYjC24ykLjE8ZBl5IJFaM9Tv7jah629O18HYMt3V_VGlk6uBfnXYSqGNnQ4Xju8C-jmRPCw0CHZR5bFItCH9H6HAEWEe4Qik3ONkddA/s5847/IMG_2837.JPG" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="3899" data-original-width="5847" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiez3WcbIglpGU17R8utRmJARaIib9v1IXneyP-4Mn3_FTyXrTVd3sdqUtNPJNwJsBk_ksWlVrSN1Zv7tThquYjC24ykLjE8ZBl5IJFaM9Tv7jah629O18HYMt3V_VGlk6uBfnXYSqGNnQ4Xju8C-jmRPCw0CHZR5bFItCH9H6HAEWEe4Qik3ONkddA/s320/IMG_2837.JPG" width="320" /></a><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Photos really don't do it justice. <div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9EUWo_gAv_gS9He_n02WYWYEAyeb_26tKmKq_XTi4osxUvLoI8VOTpBJ8qkqLS2HNmXt2BEmFSaw4Vx8k_VqnobSA8lFpylhL9FQTAKoFRa0ImVlmIYtm0M1sXS4jR5jMVimsXvSasAgwQGVTJZYvVyzkYfKrtYLIMuena3ZSthpip_ytirZE7xRW/s6000/IMG_2842.JPG" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9EUWo_gAv_gS9He_n02WYWYEAyeb_26tKmKq_XTi4osxUvLoI8VOTpBJ8qkqLS2HNmXt2BEmFSaw4Vx8k_VqnobSA8lFpylhL9FQTAKoFRa0ImVlmIYtm0M1sXS4jR5jMVimsXvSasAgwQGVTJZYvVyzkYfKrtYLIMuena3ZSthpip_ytirZE7xRW/s320/IMG_2842.JPG" width="320" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4YKvyNuprsPxqVUQ0_cBbaZR3B237UzLGlmL-Zbsg5W_9AuUYMplzZG0pYYXLDjK0meJ57GJR_QcaHYLU83n8uk3q6e24PeFyqFnEIBzxk1nfoHfObf3Q0joiVXYDp7fW7yfY5aHNzD_ESEaUi6eV2dcoOXVuAG4nMFEJ6OzgsGBH_iYdorATcJco/s6000/IMG_2844.JPG" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4YKvyNuprsPxqVUQ0_cBbaZR3B237UzLGlmL-Zbsg5W_9AuUYMplzZG0pYYXLDjK0meJ57GJR_QcaHYLU83n8uk3q6e24PeFyqFnEIBzxk1nfoHfObf3Q0joiVXYDp7fW7yfY5aHNzD_ESEaUi6eV2dcoOXVuAG4nMFEJ6OzgsGBH_iYdorATcJco/s320/IMG_2844.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">This is what it looked like around this time last year.<br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://scontent.fhnl3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.30808-6/272617336_10159050936374794_7205266081612691301_n.jpg?_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=8bfeb9&_nc_ohc=6FoH98hZkfoAX9VnWL8&_nc_ht=scontent.fhnl3-1.fna&oh=00_AfAy_YSqUUGZPx4a1t_kd_DxX00tHmatXFxRE9bzaThtUw&oe=63D679FD" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://scontent.fhnl3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.30808-6/272617336_10159050936374794_7205266081612691301_n.jpg?_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=8bfeb9&_nc_ohc=6FoH98hZkfoAX9VnWL8&_nc_ht=scontent.fhnl3-1.fna&oh=00_AfAy_YSqUUGZPx4a1t_kd_DxX00tHmatXFxRE9bzaThtUw&oe=63D679FD" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">We continued onward, and stopped for awhile at Waimea Bay to catch the surfers. The Eddie Aikau tournament had ended a few days before, so the crowds weren't bad at all.<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbZdb6LJVUskp3g6KfXggKd9PB7fVCsfTGndDPY2IG99oWppJrVzZJdSqbbEnkhbOnpb-CHNogxha3T_twdN6qXjzk-vcQwCtxEhIHkkUEjn5pJZDPAp_XpL-Ija0ybswQwOi2iadPtEZ0D5p6XQNi_vMv5f_nB1AukOfxI2n8l5JubQ-IDZQwex5H/s4979/IMG_2869.JPG" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="3319" data-original-width="4979" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbZdb6LJVUskp3g6KfXggKd9PB7fVCsfTGndDPY2IG99oWppJrVzZJdSqbbEnkhbOnpb-CHNogxha3T_twdN6qXjzk-vcQwCtxEhIHkkUEjn5pJZDPAp_XpL-Ija0ybswQwOi2iadPtEZ0D5p6XQNi_vMv5f_nB1AukOfxI2n8l5JubQ-IDZQwex5H/s320/IMG_2869.JPG" width="320" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"> I think the waves were about 30 feet, and the life guards had their hands full. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Obviously, no one other than professional surfers were allowed on the beach (too dangerous).</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /><div class="separator" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="2515" data-original-width="3772" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUMSkoueRHPsi2y_Pygf3w0hXswL4ma6qN30zZS_5jaM38zIVNqogzwGD-78ZAu9XAzXRkeuj0YPHYsHeqJKXtiXarhDIUVTiZ7ixPEYERey1oQ0RGXaT0jrX0RgM9fRWYXn_f-2mqnlD_rWgcMWUbIjvw8qhT91ZtDywxe0MY3EELFFRphfVL16HI/s320/IMG_2882.JPG" width="320" /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGiB0t219w08BkXE_kOFN5V3078F4R5t4qnFBFQVHRlMc2P9ZWtp8XJ_WA_OaiI_fIxw3hl8rqxIumFXMaaf5JiroisJaorkvRPimq2iE9n-JM9KwBjLWnvvhM9gfPj7pIlVk0tO4MKuX_Sx5ibm5aah2Cj9u8TB_mlxHdvk4RGX_3wR21Lemv6qRH/s5036/IMG_2888.JPG" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="3357" data-original-width="5036" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGiB0t219w08BkXE_kOFN5V3078F4R5t4qnFBFQVHRlMc2P9ZWtp8XJ_WA_OaiI_fIxw3hl8rqxIumFXMaaf5JiroisJaorkvRPimq2iE9n-JM9KwBjLWnvvhM9gfPj7pIlVk0tO4MKuX_Sx5ibm5aah2Cj9u8TB_mlxHdvk4RGX_3wR21Lemv6qRH/s320/IMG_2888.JPG" width="320" /></a></div></div><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="3504" data-original-width="5256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDPMR3HxvapWxvdFZacpJQYVq0HOT5f8zvV3Sd1hIFSdvaVBBqmVLwRHmBbZVDjmDGzIysExLAaZCC3DCsfCu-K3VRwBaAWlZuhiGLtq9xLTDdi3Llz8Bznw-8diZh421TD3RcCcQvEGV4Dvn0YdFVgsI0Y92Pi1W3L73gN7NfBct1JS85Q7iKE43B/s320/IMG_2870.JPG" width="320" /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">- and, of course, there were chickens. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNtrKYfQ1gTIYUHcBKyWkEf82JcaX_PhCOR9GeIrmorYg75B6oDRIJYBbXh-XI4sQRo_1ne_os6ENJdyuUxjuAQ_O4Em4trU1KGw6Qr2lZ9a8dX-4mFXDpKmywYu87Kxnmg_C1THB3soEpJ-kv4yFcwX3zVj7CEHscjFHSj7ANse4jy8Bv_zwyfPi_/s3512/IMG_2892.JPG" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="2342" data-original-width="3512" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNtrKYfQ1gTIYUHcBKyWkEf82JcaX_PhCOR9GeIrmorYg75B6oDRIJYBbXh-XI4sQRo_1ne_os6ENJdyuUxjuAQ_O4Em4trU1KGw6Qr2lZ9a8dX-4mFXDpKmywYu87Kxnmg_C1THB3soEpJ-kv4yFcwX3zVj7CEHscjFHSj7ANse4jy8Bv_zwyfPi_/s320/IMG_2892.JPG" width="320" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">We finished off the day with a spectacular sunset. Kilauea on The Big Island is currently sending over lots of Vog, so the sunsets are especially gorgeous lately. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje_lKpfzcKOf-F1KJ__z7kcYCiZsvg0xHHkTBQUnkuBPy1GOnXuNW25EOvrl9HlHCN2kN3sg0Bvn0MGHIRshRBkYIP_4pYbQUsYAq2o6yuFt4OoBP7Ap8qJTQ0ny9rRHY7k2Aj9EzIrhWoHp_mU5Ew0KEk4KsMhov9IwDkQcFEtai29gerLBTSObDk/s320/IMG_2893.JPG" width="320" /></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I'm so blessed, and my heart is full.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div>Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05145855756986253836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187278682279294821.post-77849720457492626342022-10-22T13:53:00.000-06:002022-10-22T13:53:32.076-06:00My TreeWhen I was growing up, we moved a lot.<div><br></div><div>(A. Lot.) </div><div><br></div><div>(Proud Military Brat right here, oh yeah.)</div><div><br></div><div>Anyway, no matter where we lived, I always managed to find My Tree. It was a place I could go for refuge; place to find quiet; a spot to read and dream. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghT1KcSL2e4bfk2xUfylpce36CkVcpBVlFZ027RBs_6MzHj3r7fBZqeoFKN8NkYy3w3-69ElCA24dagI1i9A3A5W5S7WYhYsD1W4kuuhyWGBED8qhMvbn65B9m5-onhp3FHZJz64iF7T4/s1600/1666468404257066-0.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">
<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghT1KcSL2e4bfk2xUfylpce36CkVcpBVlFZ027RBs_6MzHj3r7fBZqeoFKN8NkYy3w3-69ElCA24dagI1i9A3A5W5S7WYhYsD1W4kuuhyWGBED8qhMvbn65B9m5-onhp3FHZJz64iF7T4/s1600/1666468404257066-0.png" width="400">
</a>
</div><br></div><div>Of course, The Tree of My Heart will always be the banyan tree next to my old house in Hawaii.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYo5nox-CrY7MG2TsQV09O4wkZt9OXasjDmOCbcSWBd4yc9-qsWrFfTi97y8US5HTLVo8pt6HXF940cgaA3g4LN6dPC7REHAZ1AQaz52A0bQD7Z-Ra62K2eUpu1iRqPH72KWbfxBDGbsI/s1600/1666468400108023-1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">
<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYo5nox-CrY7MG2TsQV09O4wkZt9OXasjDmOCbcSWBd4yc9-qsWrFfTi97y8US5HTLVo8pt6HXF940cgaA3g4LN6dPC7REHAZ1AQaz52A0bQD7Z-Ra62K2eUpu1iRqPH72KWbfxBDGbsI/s1600/1666468400108023-1.png" width="400">
</a>
</div><br></div><div>When I moved here to Illinois, I thought I was past the age of needing a tree.</div><div><br></div><div>(Heh.)</div><div><br></div><div>But something I'm learning, the older I get, is that the little girl can always be found in the woman. I was so delighted a few years ago when my best friend Charlie brought me to a place nearby where I finally found My Illinois Tree.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkLjlQzgcnYLSyj-pP7SxGm8G3hdtIoCEAL5h79ebJa63BHF1hvbeGwVQ4qM0MdPCucbD6xaSgGwqJKpdaovqIq-otXH2ZQdnJKj7BRlbdhMHxJGF2wB-wFUYtklJdFCJjqitEn5X-aZo/s1600/1666468397939689-2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">
<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkLjlQzgcnYLSyj-pP7SxGm8G3hdtIoCEAL5h79ebJa63BHF1hvbeGwVQ4qM0MdPCucbD6xaSgGwqJKpdaovqIq-otXH2ZQdnJKj7BRlbdhMHxJGF2wB-wFUYtklJdFCJjqitEn5X-aZo/s1600/1666468397939689-2.png" width="400">
</a>
</div><br></div><div>It's a place where I can find refuge, quiet, and the healing that Nature brings.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-T_a3gb_UPOF1Y_VNADqQHDLqLsW3U_5zSYPbHJJ69avO99LuedQ-06tCuIfGpepY7YOQN9jffb8Jfwbp9U8odLvz-OG6mXJtIh1kc_MaQ_L5xeI444dS0bS8-9IOltWyZPFTGY8yh6c/s1600/1666468394816358-3.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">
<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-T_a3gb_UPOF1Y_VNADqQHDLqLsW3U_5zSYPbHJJ69avO99LuedQ-06tCuIfGpepY7YOQN9jffb8Jfwbp9U8odLvz-OG6mXJtIh1kc_MaQ_L5xeI444dS0bS8-9IOltWyZPFTGY8yh6c/s1600/1666468394816358-3.png" width="400">
</a>
</div><br></div><div>True, it's a little bit different than the trees of my youth, but I'm still thrilled that I was able to find a tree to climb.<br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzALqFxYYA0LMFOVf9Qk3-Q1yhZO2m_ghNoJRK1wCbCeUqOZyMhESq7eGM8r8uK6fe-yM2W0waWgCcOC2_51oZ-znXx7u5tyABguLH2u9NhHvzXOpObgcUwbUZOSmyF7Ihl2KLofyHXgA/s1600/1666468391759221-4.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">
<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzALqFxYYA0LMFOVf9Qk3-Q1yhZO2m_ghNoJRK1wCbCeUqOZyMhESq7eGM8r8uK6fe-yM2W0waWgCcOC2_51oZ-znXx7u5tyABguLH2u9NhHvzXOpObgcUwbUZOSmyF7Ihl2KLofyHXgA/s1600/1666468391759221-4.png" width="400">
</a>
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg20AHSUfV3eJlNOuUVrZiEozksdZhAF_Mu5IvOHWeuhKGR2KZfeIaAGFTQEBlsKcNaY7qiRtfwUub32gtr1Pz_27XVVbFcLO7dIyp79D5CBT30wIAu53nSMdSc9wwNcBf5uzBx4Ahjsb8/s1600/1666468389512390-5.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">
<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg20AHSUfV3eJlNOuUVrZiEozksdZhAF_Mu5IvOHWeuhKGR2KZfeIaAGFTQEBlsKcNaY7qiRtfwUub32gtr1Pz_27XVVbFcLO7dIyp79D5CBT30wIAu53nSMdSc9wwNcBf5uzBx4Ahjsb8/s1600/1666468389512390-5.png" width="400">
</a>
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtwXtXf1nY23X16hkiukKgWTRFGsA7z8-EcPifdWxbPyAO3wJdkhAcRV6HgGX3orM5IFwx3LDZxQ1_PGc4E51tDEshT-i75jQaJsvKzIvfm5zXbRC5ESHEom_F5mX5EpNE4vI8_nyF-gw/s1600/1666468387125232-6.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">
<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtwXtXf1nY23X16hkiukKgWTRFGsA7z8-EcPifdWxbPyAO3wJdkhAcRV6HgGX3orM5IFwx3LDZxQ1_PGc4E51tDEshT-i75jQaJsvKzIvfm5zXbRC5ESHEom_F5mX5EpNE4vI8_nyF-gw/s1600/1666468387125232-6.png" width="400">
</a>
</div><br></div>Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05145855756986253836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187278682279294821.post-76939195910561511462022-04-08T09:47:00.003-06:002022-04-08T09:47:56.180-06:00The Big Picture<p><a href="https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5e7d7a62d58040103728a70a/1586398684378-OEM9KF2E6DA754FK3LM9/2020-god-does-best-work.jpg?format=750w" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="533" height="320" src="https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5e7d7a62d58040103728a70a/1586398684378-OEM9KF2E6DA754FK3LM9/2020-god-does-best-work.jpg?format=750w" width="213" /></a> I'm currently doing a Bible study with some of the ladies in my church. It's called, <i><a href="https://www.nancyguthrie.com/god-does-his-best-work-with-empty" target="_blank">God Does His Best Work with Empty</a></i> by Nancy Guthrie.</p><p>Today, for part of the reading, the study guide directed me to read through the book of <i>Ruth</i>, paying careful attention to the theme of loss and emptiness. If you're familiar with the story of Ruth, then you'll know that it begins with Naomi, who, because of a famine in Judah, travels to the country of Moab with her husband. They settle there, and she has two boys, who grow up and then marry two women from Moab. In the course of things, Naomi's husband dies, and then later her two sons.</p><p>In that culture, to lose the men of your family would have been devastating. Aside from the personal grief of losing your closest relatives, a woman without the "protection of a man" was in an extremely vulnerable position. I can't imagine the fear and grief that must have consumed Naomi. That poor woman.</p><p>Upon hearing that things have gotten better in Judah, she decides to pack up and go back to her hometown. Both her daughter's-in-law offer to go with her, which is telling. Naomi must have been a remarkable woman for these two young widows to offer to uproot themselves to go to a foreign land <i>with their mother-in-law</i>. Totally not the typical relationship trope of daughters-in-law to mother-in-law!</p><p>Naomi tries to convince the two women to return to their family homes, and eventually, one of them agrees. Ruth, however, refuses to go, citing one of the most beautiful passages in Scripture:</p><div style="text-align: center;"><i>"Entreat me not to leave you, <br /></i><i>Or to turn back from following after you.<br /></i><i>For wherever you go, I will go:<br /></i><i>And wherever you lodge, I will lodge;<br /></i><i>Your people will be my people, <br /></i><i>And your God, my God.<br /></i><i>Where you die, I will die, <br /></i><i>And there will I be buried.<br /></i><i>The Lord do so to me, and more also,<br /></i><i>If anything but death parts you and me."</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: left;">Naomi, now accompanied by Ruth, finally reaches her hometown in Judah, which creates quite a stir (it must have been a somewhat small town, or else Naomi's family must have been well-to-do). When questioned about her life since leaving Judah, Naomi says, "Do not call me Naomi; call me Mara, for the Almighty has dealt very bitterly with me."</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">This is the part that struck me this morning. In her moment, at that moment, Naomi was overcome with grief and loss. How adrift and destitute she must have felt! How humiliated, to have left as a young married woman, and then to have to return as an old widow with only a foreign daughter-in-law to show for all her efforts!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">It's only natural that she should see her circumstances as "the Almighty dealing very bitterly with me." In one way, she was absolutely right - it <i>was </i>the Almighty's doing, and in that moment, His doing was hard to bear.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">- And yet.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">- And yet, He did not leave Naomi without comfort. At that moment, Naomi wasn't fully seeing the value of Ruth, who was standing right next to Naomi. She only saw her moment, which, let's be honest, was awful.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">But that's not the whole picture. The bigger picture shows us the beauty of Naomi's story. How Ruth ends up marrying a wealthy man named Boaz, an honorable man who provides for Naomi for the rest of her life. Ruth and Boaz have a son, thereby giving Naomi a grandson to hold. As the book of Ruth ends, it says,</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">"<i>And they called his name Obed. He is the father of Jesse, the father of David."</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: left;">Wow. What a fabulous Big Picture. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">But of course, Naomi couldn't see that, especially in her moment of grief. In fact, she never even got to see the overall Big Picture of King David being her great-great-grandson.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">And that's where faith comes in. It's faith that marries the belief in the Almighty's goodness with the reality of the Almighty's dealings.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">In our culture, it's popular to say, "I have faith," or, "I'm a person of faith," as though it's an accessory to an outfit or an emblem to put on a hoodie. This sort of faith is cheap, like Rue21 jewelry that easily breaks or Walmart clothing that quickly fades. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Big Picture Faith, however . . . </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Wow. That's something durable. It's priceless.<br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05145855756986253836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187278682279294821.post-42534646032919034592022-04-06T08:33:00.003-06:002022-04-06T08:33:59.011-06:00A Bootiful Saturday<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj5SjWr_78BFnr82Pm5sC05FqQcBmpFK1W7ofJvpZrny9IECmoTTGx_vDsS6dP8EOXZX-9Fq-FZSAOVDyc5kBWebcmMxCOOxOhcV-5MqPLRUZkmE4PSqAfAZzmJGd7PqoWEkzE5gRtObA/s3264/PXL_20211030_180803805.PORTRAIT.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj5SjWr_78BFnr82Pm5sC05FqQcBmpFK1W7ofJvpZrny9IECmoTTGx_vDsS6dP8EOXZX-9Fq-FZSAOVDyc5kBWebcmMxCOOxOhcV-5MqPLRUZkmE4PSqAfAZzmJGd7PqoWEkzE5gRtObA/s320/PXL_20211030_180803805.PORTRAIT.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div>Wow, I completely forgot about this. I guess I uploaded these photos last October, and then never published them.<div><br /></div><div>I think that's why I like blogging. It's a bit like scrapbooking, but more wordy. Since I inherited a good bit of my dad's "portugee" (i.e. gift of gab), blogging is more fun for me.<br /> </div><div>I took these photos during the Halloween trick-or-treating at downtown businesses. My Ella looks like an astronaut, but she declared that she was an "Amongus", whatever that is.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3wy-74ixSp0omI2Ql6Zypo2CJUBQlf07ZGn96DSDomrliLPudxBuztU6PVf1wlQ8QOHD0msVSCnJnhi5hFF7llY_Yf8B8zPnXR3SaIA7ZgmhZE41m-UVWf9-4sIJ5TG7O0ZLYRRXzh9A/s4032/PXL_20211030_180743530.PORTRAIT.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3wy-74ixSp0omI2Ql6Zypo2CJUBQlf07ZGn96DSDomrliLPudxBuztU6PVf1wlQ8QOHD0msVSCnJnhi5hFF7llY_Yf8B8zPnXR3SaIA7ZgmhZE41m-UVWf9-4sIJ5TG7O0ZLYRRXzh9A/s320/PXL_20211030_180743530.PORTRAIT.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And here is my other daughter, who wants to be called by the nickname "Bee", instead of "Boo". Since both are cute, I'll try to humor her.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvvvcvdUOMDShbPXUCm85CfAllUDy6cAXGPd-UUtk4dwQS3Os_lmGpVZKry4pqAg6yPa4DnGf2PmyDDvsRh45xhcM_gbns6xTu4EH-hHHtxf-OYfDZn6pVzrd4UiKG9QbYsEbsirWwzqs/s4032/PXL_20211030_172618529.PORTRAIT.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvvvcvdUOMDShbPXUCm85CfAllUDy6cAXGPd-UUtk4dwQS3Os_lmGpVZKry4pqAg6yPa4DnGf2PmyDDvsRh45xhcM_gbns6xTu4EH-hHHtxf-OYfDZn6pVzrd4UiKG9QbYsEbsirWwzqs/s320/PXL_20211030_172618529.PORTRAIT.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p></p></div><div>(No, that's not her costume. She always dresses like that. She's sixteen.)</div>Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05145855756986253836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187278682279294821.post-14334597787293142282022-04-06T08:24:00.004-06:002022-04-06T08:28:16.443-06:00A New Mantra<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>I knit during church. <div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ZtZ89ujSjvF-1HaG1GvVAqhv3-qsHVkBHAdsuYXfCYtuYVQWieHkpiIQhanCTo7RH-8s65aHveVCMx_fnRqluWis9TWRHycgknfd636H2XafnpKexmnsJEC9Fviy6ncq7PIRkKxCy6U/s1600/1649253440380914-0.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">
<img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ZtZ89ujSjvF-1HaG1GvVAqhv3-qsHVkBHAdsuYXfCYtuYVQWieHkpiIQhanCTo7RH-8s65aHveVCMx_fnRqluWis9TWRHycgknfd636H2XafnpKexmnsJEC9Fviy6ncq7PIRkKxCy6U/w240-h320/1649253440380914-0.png" width="240" />
</a></div><div><br /></div><div>I realize this may sound sacrilegious, but it truly does help me pay better attention. Of all the voices that clamor in my brain, by far, the most persistent one is the List Maker. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div></div><div><br /></div><div>The List Maker loves to drone <i>on</i> and <i>on</i> about all the things that I have to do today. </div><div><br /></div><div>- "What should we make for lunch?"</div><div>- "We should just get pizza."</div><div>- "We should <i>not </i>get pizza, because we have plenty of food at home and that would be a waste. You just went grocery shopping."</div><div>- "Maybe we should go shopping."</div><div>- "We should <i>not</i> go shopping because then you'll look at clothes, and we have enough clothes."</div><div>- "We should Marie Kondo our clothes."</div><div><br /></div><div><i>Ad infinitum</i></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrGUr3_sjTONpXdtcEQIjTY3igxi3VMK1LCsux06XsaWTOFe3LkM0ALc_DhjAk8TuUvhdYFr7e9nlVrV65ieL-Z0UWuamr5245vT-H_qViSXTqAx5fRUYFtR2lm50b3haBceuguj_Pseg/s1600/1649252734811327-0.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrGUr3_sjTONpXdtcEQIjTY3igxi3VMK1LCsux06XsaWTOFe3LkM0ALc_DhjAk8TuUvhdYFr7e9nlVrV65ieL-Z0UWuamr5245vT-H_qViSXTqAx5fRUYFtR2lm50b3haBceuguj_Pseg/w240-h320/1649252734811327-0.png" width="240" />
</a></div><div>It's like having the love child of Gollum and Martha Stewart constantly whispering in my head. </div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway, I knit during church.</div><div><br /></div><div>Or, at least, I used to. I don't do it so much anymore. Not because the voices in my head are quieter (I wish!), but because I'm finding it a bittersweet experience.</div><div><br /></div><div>My muscular dystrophy has begun affecting my hands. (There are muscles in my hands also, surprise surprise.) If I knit for any length of time, I won't have the strength in them to play violin or piano for the rest of the day, maybe for the next day as well.</div><div><br /></div><div>And yet, as I knit stitch after stitch, and feel the distinct pleasure of the soft yarn running through my fingers, it's hard to put it down. The continuity of the thing, the repetition, is soothing. For all the complex designs that can be created through knitting, at its basic element there are only two stitches, knit and purl. They are the binary code of a knitter's program; the quiet, physical rhythm of my psyche. For 18 years, it has been my life's mantra. </div><div><br /></div><div>And oh, how it hurts.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div>I'm not talking about the painful after-affect on my hand muscles; I mean the longing for what was. It's so hard to look at the beautiful skeins of colorful, twisted fibers that lie waiting to be made into something precious, knowing that they will most likely continue to wait forever. That I may never be able to see the finished work that I had envisioned when I first purchased that yarn. </div><div><br /></div><div>So now, when I knit, I cherish each stitch in a way that I took for granted before; the smooth feel of the needles expertly sliding into the millimeter of space created from a stitch knitted awhile before, followed by the glow of satisfaction for every successful loop retrieved from a straight line of yarn. There is an incongruity in expecting something as low-friction as a metal needle to be able to snatch strands of fiber, and yet, it can happen.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifx9xH0NXkIJ4roQ18qpdThWfb3S_snWbIDxm03-nRwrdLS3bjBmuptLUsbkA7fN63l6EdFC6ixHtx4voeWpF_Xyc9kgLFbHQ_7XNK6OV4J_mo9By4vc-8ILfcdDfs0o_6PPvE5E32eOQ/s1600/1649253437629386-1.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;">
<img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifx9xH0NXkIJ4roQ18qpdThWfb3S_snWbIDxm03-nRwrdLS3bjBmuptLUsbkA7fN63l6EdFC6ixHtx4voeWpF_Xyc9kgLFbHQ_7XNK6OV4J_mo9By4vc-8ILfcdDfs0o_6PPvE5E32eOQ/w240-h320/1649253437629386-1.png" width="240" />
</a>I'm going to hang onto that hope. Even as I slowly lose something that has been a continuous part of my life for such a long time, I'm going to try to snatch at joy, no matter how incongruous that chance may seem. Just as with a knit stitch, I might occasionally drop the yarn, or it might slip off my needle. But that's the great thing about creating something, right? If I go back and try again, eventually, I'll succeed.</div><div><br /></div><div>So for now, as long as I can, I'll knit during church, and pray in hope that a new hobby is waiting for me.</div><div><br /></div><div>The voices in my head agree. (They're also reminding me that I need to go fold laundry.)</div></div>Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05145855756986253836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187278682279294821.post-81854917796469345012021-10-30T16:22:00.001-06:002021-10-30T16:22:04.702-06:00Navigating Chicago<p></p>One of the interesting things I've noticed about my decreased mobility is also a corresponding increase in anxiety, especially with new situations where I'm not sure I'll be able to get around.<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja8djjnScF8cdbfj1YUx6qmKJYLcRgYD47jlzwx4aWMqGmUTsRHSIFAw5EBN9dU6QCifaYx1hOPh5POzPvh5nuMizv7tdStDh8OJrvTuP7k74cbK5GoisgZQk9tmiG-Y4mDRm_MvTVlUM/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="240" data-original-width="320" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja8djjnScF8cdbfj1YUx6qmKJYLcRgYD47jlzwx4aWMqGmUTsRHSIFAw5EBN9dU6QCifaYx1hOPh5POzPvh5nuMizv7tdStDh8OJrvTuP7k74cbK5GoisgZQk9tmiG-Y4mDRm_MvTVlUM/" width="320" /></a></div><p>Thanks to a new power chair, I'm finding it easier to get out and do things. However, just because it's <i>easier </i>to get out doesn't mean that my nervousness with dealing with new situations has gone away. In an effort to challenge myself, I'm trying to push myself to try new things, or perhaps, try things that I would have done before, but now I have to do them in a new way.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg64Sj-84O34Q9mLMAusAQyR2hV8l4EV_RNg7TgXAk2cded-w_AdEN7NzT7_JJ7OEZXKz7kQ6nfKyTD5SzmOzNcIv25MC7hsQGVB5FyPqdYSJTgecVDPOtbWXpliG4dULcVx7tm15EYq8g/s2048/PXL_20211027_170845811.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg64Sj-84O34Q9mLMAusAQyR2hV8l4EV_RNg7TgXAk2cded-w_AdEN7NzT7_JJ7OEZXKz7kQ6nfKyTD5SzmOzNcIv25MC7hsQGVB5FyPqdYSJTgecVDPOtbWXpliG4dULcVx7tm15EYq8g/s320/PXL_20211027_170845811.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>That being said, it's still not as "easy" as before. A power chair has to be loaded onto my small attached trailer, <i>hopefully </i>no one will clip the back of the trailer, <i>hopefully </i>the weather will be good, <i>hopefully </i>I'll be able to find handicap parking, <i>hopefully </i>I'll be able to get the wheelchair off by myself, etc etc etc. . . Then factor into all that the natural anxiousness accompanied by a drive into downtown Chicago, and you'll have a good idea of how much bravery it took.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>But I did it!<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzsHJ9EL1E_jYvdmsGgZya74BzMla2pMoJIsIV4YXfZZTUjLAPEuSnDWBnC8VIM2JRv-AN-cErKoVESy4S340E_yNsI215MgVECkzxPSO73dS5aY7_cNBfsBXiqMMtkKVuM5UMTx1tcLE/s3264/PXL_20211023_182544174.PORTRAIT.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzsHJ9EL1E_jYvdmsGgZya74BzMla2pMoJIsIV4YXfZZTUjLAPEuSnDWBnC8VIM2JRv-AN-cErKoVESy4S340E_yNsI215MgVECkzxPSO73dS5aY7_cNBfsBXiqMMtkKVuM5UMTx1tcLE/s320/PXL_20211023_182544174.PORTRAIT.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p></p>Not only did it get to see a friend that I haven't seen in 15 years, I also got to spend the evening with my brother and sister-in-law, which is always a treat, and not just because they make excellent food 😁.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipMPmD39x1W87D26nKdY_u16MXn6sVRfKZ3Wu6B6DcKhpsQXwjZL5xExj9A4_DfcgwsuN9rOEW1TA8MZb4W5ppyGVVXM5fb2pWr61vip5okRFWr2N8mcsMpwbUau00uX5P_mArUXOqovQ/s4032/PXL_20211024_002540402.PORTRAIT.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipMPmD39x1W87D26nKdY_u16MXn6sVRfKZ3Wu6B6DcKhpsQXwjZL5xExj9A4_DfcgwsuN9rOEW1TA8MZb4W5ppyGVVXM5fb2pWr61vip5okRFWr2N8mcsMpwbUau00uX5P_mArUXOqovQ/s320/PXL_20211024_002540402.PORTRAIT.jpg" width="240" /></a></div></div><div><br /></div><div>I guess just like anything scary, once you've done it, the next time it's a just a little less scary. Here's to another adventure under the belt and <i>hopefully</i> more to come!<br /><br /><br /><br /> <p></p></div>Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05145855756986253836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187278682279294821.post-9417035746087608062021-10-25T20:19:00.006-06:002021-10-25T20:19:47.607-06:00So Good to Sew Again<p style="text-align: left;"> It's been a while since I've blogged anything. I guess I haven't been in the mood to share.</p><p style="text-align: left;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoSZ-_vf2t0yrfHkqx_hiSng5zkJBk5OoiRxd0N-w-scosJKcN-CYQNS7N64-c7ixS5gjufUyZ1T6JWUt_IDN88AUztehvvkbPryRyhYlcOeKf7i0iK4HpZJh90VYZxijXCzv0AfbiYE4/s4032/PXL_20211024_213620744.PORTRAIT.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoSZ-_vf2t0yrfHkqx_hiSng5zkJBk5OoiRxd0N-w-scosJKcN-CYQNS7N64-c7ixS5gjufUyZ1T6JWUt_IDN88AUztehvvkbPryRyhYlcOeKf7i0iK4HpZJh90VYZxijXCzv0AfbiYE4/s320/PXL_20211024_213620744.PORTRAIT.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>Another thing I haven't done in a while is do any sewing. In the past, knitting was my preferred hobby because it was more portable. However, the other day I happened to be at Jo-Ann fabrics and the sewing bug hit, haha.<p></p><p style="text-align: left;">This also coincided with a recently canceled order from Zulily. (As in, I put lots of adorable outfits in my shopping cart, and then Reason/Economy stepped in and made me dump them all back out again.) So, in that dangerous state of mind hovering between self-satisfaction from having saved myself about $100 and a tinge of sadness that I hadn't splurged $100, I stepped into JoAnn's.</p><p style="text-align: left;">Isn't this fabric pretty? </p><p style="text-align: left;">I was talking to a friend recently, and she reminded me of when we were kids and her Home Ec Guru mother was horrified that I preferred to sew without patterns. (I <i>can </i>sew with a pattern, but I usually can't be bothered. Too time-consuming). </p><p style="text-align: left;">Anyway, I guess-timated, and purchased 2 yards of fabric, which was just about the right amount for a cute skirt for my youngest. </p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH7QpvKJdVQAal2NkS19IO6XmWKgwHkaJfUUVTkMuF7pNDKJLJc72ToI1bL4nRUwZrA99eMHe-Uh-Fut0TreHz2QApVRmkpkeUb6SYmV_sbw7_hAUavdP4oy3cVW9NGU5ATs0jp-kTaic/s4032/PXL_20211025_002927279.PORTRAIT.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH7QpvKJdVQAal2NkS19IO6XmWKgwHkaJfUUVTkMuF7pNDKJLJc72ToI1bL4nRUwZrA99eMHe-Uh-Fut0TreHz2QApVRmkpkeUb6SYmV_sbw7_hAUavdP4oy3cVW9NGU5ATs0jp-kTaic/s320/PXL_20211025_002927279.PORTRAIT.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>She's nine, now, can you believe it!?<p></p><p style="text-align: left;">I love that my Viking sewing machine has a variable speed setting. It made me a little less anxious about letting Ella have the controls. She likes to sew like she does everything else . . . <i>fast, fast, and faster.</i> Still, she did a pretty good job.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjNhcWMJPxGr4JYJbRLXGsG7tf5JbBV0L9CwkC8FsqnPj2cz2ZUHQfDvZSC0QWY53PuuuPyBkKvNLBtlAXl1N8hzJOFzRGU_Jc5FqYimvyk3bVXJ6vcwj7ngxhlOFnywnyEkRUnGwtZG0/s4032/PXL_20211024_230025470.PORTRAIT.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjNhcWMJPxGr4JYJbRLXGsG7tf5JbBV0L9CwkC8FsqnPj2cz2ZUHQfDvZSC0QWY53PuuuPyBkKvNLBtlAXl1N8hzJOFzRGU_Jc5FqYimvyk3bVXJ6vcwj7ngxhlOFnywnyEkRUnGwtZG0/s320/PXL_20211024_230025470.PORTRAIT.jpg" width="320" /></a></div></div><br /><br />To finish the ensemble, I took one of her solid-colored, long-sleeved tees and appliqued a heart onto the front with some leftover scrap fabric.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixLP7glgH4ssmrU6UT9IeALr7CzHA1oMQU1oHhzYZiyZopAMItpiLzoruGWEjY1IbQPnOowX4bEjCGA4jzs_GhQSx38hr3iGRFjMRSdopXhfRXGRf-Xd41S2Pfb-ewiRgqg3PIgmFjI_M/s2048/PXL_20211024_213631573.PORTRAIT.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixLP7glgH4ssmrU6UT9IeALr7CzHA1oMQU1oHhzYZiyZopAMItpiLzoruGWEjY1IbQPnOowX4bEjCGA4jzs_GhQSx38hr3iGRFjMRSdopXhfRXGRf-Xd41S2Pfb-ewiRgqg3PIgmFjI_M/s320/PXL_20211024_213631573.PORTRAIT.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">She likes it, I like it, and best yet, I got three outfits for under $20, and we got to spend time together making something even more special than clothes - <i>memories.</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i><br /></i><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzlerTDv3a0lk0lrAHIeR3m67_sKlsWcds660qMUTNAfB_TaA5rjGlXJFQAs_ywQqdJxejh-5LaGcGMkZpBQIlrJsdA_EDT4PHBEkselWXISiAqawGVK0PYfCTDJ3oE1XLjiO3WIXxvSQ/s4032/PXL_20211025_002947807.PORTRAIT.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzlerTDv3a0lk0lrAHIeR3m67_sKlsWcds660qMUTNAfB_TaA5rjGlXJFQAs_ywQqdJxejh-5LaGcGMkZpBQIlrJsdA_EDT4PHBEkselWXISiAqawGVK0PYfCTDJ3oE1XLjiO3WIXxvSQ/s320/PXL_20211025_002947807.PORTRAIT.jpg" width="240" /></a></div></div>Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05145855756986253836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187278682279294821.post-75086877575570006512016-07-21T07:50:00.000-06:002016-07-21T07:50:04.195-06:00Field Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1ly4Bt5R-yGYH5zitXXfkC27n9_mckmQ7dpnBKNOGot_TBWRMyNmdrsvWF0hO8Khw5DAdYRUt06dTMMSUZFJ1U7BtgO0YkkKh8a0Xwro5DMxOdes4rt7KJ5SawjuIRiyCEdrWbU60UiY/s1600/20160524_101214.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1ly4Bt5R-yGYH5zitXXfkC27n9_mckmQ7dpnBKNOGot_TBWRMyNmdrsvWF0hO8Khw5DAdYRUt06dTMMSUZFJ1U7BtgO0YkkKh8a0Xwro5DMxOdes4rt7KJ5SawjuIRiyCEdrWbU60UiY/s400/20160524_101214.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
We are so lucky to have so many great opportunities in our area for homeschoolers. For instance, every summer a friend of mine organizes a Field Day for the homeschoolers, which is a rather large undertaking considering the number and varied ages of kids who attend!<br />
<br />
This year, Peter and Gabe were not able to attend, but don't feel too badly for them because they were down in the Sunny South being spoiled rotten by their grandparents.<br />
<br />
Ella, however, more than made up for their lack by being incredibly enthusiastic about, well, <i>everything</i>, ha ha!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLJ2z0kATHTxjOoDlwTyRKwdiiFBUzDJ267T7UEvE9VOro4sEkj-AGKgjpXQxbJJIZ31L0keSo0SFHjvNAv4jwrD0eWXpsx52Ro5x-ndjjEIXh-L9H_0yH4lMxDm273B_tsPPNvkEgDtY/s1600/20160524_100931.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLJ2z0kATHTxjOoDlwTyRKwdiiFBUzDJ267T7UEvE9VOro4sEkj-AGKgjpXQxbJJIZ31L0keSo0SFHjvNAv4jwrD0eWXpsx52Ro5x-ndjjEIXh-L9H_0yH4lMxDm273B_tsPPNvkEgDtY/s400/20160524_100931.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Poor little thing. I knew it was going to be hot and humid, so I dressed her accordingly. However, I unfortunately did not think to check if she was wearing appropriate undergarments. Somehow she had put on her older sister's underwear, and every time she ran they started to slip down to her ankles. It was so comical watching her run, curly hair and sparkler headband streaming in the wind, and one hand hiking up her errant undies!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dx_UuJ0MAydOcKz-J-TTt6sGz7H_v8Bz_pfapCF5rEJteSEvRDduqTnu3Tga0czJgxysXZbjUCBUhm6nhhXlw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Bree also participated and did fairly well, but because I was in charge of watching Ella's group most of the day, I wasn't able to get many photos of her. Plus, typical Bree, she tried squirming out of every picture I tried to capture of her!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dz4tTB3X78Dg02CKpQjRVhnO1b9xWBnoufzu8nnU5feWwy25sawBdeqQ3AHC26ry6FKxmBmJSE3mP662uxYeA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
Little Ella has her mother's speed, and didn't place in anything, but she was a trooper and never gave up, even though she was usually near the last of the pack. She was completely and utterly thrilled to finally, <i>finally </i>get something that she can hang on the Wall of Awesomeness near her desk. Never mind that it is a "only" participation award. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCD9739HpSC4lAo9wGCT4M2lC7nC12f2e6_pR3LP2efyx9S5dU7iTgxDweDDpAmJwjkzbLb0M_I7XaQjn0kukdGhY8jNdJNHvMnAlZE9li0hEBgeCvg9mwHJhq-lqrhtOM0jT6612PRAo/s1600/20160524_121738.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCD9739HpSC4lAo9wGCT4M2lC7nC12f2e6_pR3LP2efyx9S5dU7iTgxDweDDpAmJwjkzbLb0M_I7XaQjn0kukdGhY8jNdJNHvMnAlZE9li0hEBgeCvg9mwHJhq-lqrhtOM0jT6612PRAo/s400/20160524_121738.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
<br />
She earned it.<br />
<br />Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05145855756986253836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187278682279294821.post-89254213929106403162016-07-18T22:31:00.002-06:002023-07-16T13:41:55.404-06:00Another Musician in the Family One of the by-products of growing up in the home of a music teacher is that one does not have a choice in whether or not one will learn an instrument of some sort. In Ella's case, she was completely and utterly . . .<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQedwaEWb4yslgI3Jh6Ngf6fuN3yLCqoq2BKGDCUwE7UjxzghmIZArOSO8jDvCA7o6d5dIOx-jG9AmCoFJXMD2tUCV2RiUH_qAH1vYoxl3nDMvBahr0M_WlN34sZPFq9rOo5tGJet0kSs/s1600/20160523_104827.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="312" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQedwaEWb4yslgI3Jh6Ngf6fuN3yLCqoq2BKGDCUwE7UjxzghmIZArOSO8jDvCA7o6d5dIOx-jG9AmCoFJXMD2tUCV2RiUH_qAH1vYoxl3nDMvBahr0M_WlN34sZPFq9rOo5tGJet0kSs/s400/20160523_104827.jpg" width="400"></a></div>
<br>
. . . . thrilled. I could teach her myself, of course, but instead I decided to give one of my students the opportunity (and extra practice) to learn how to teach. Mr. Denver is doing a wonderful job, and Ella is loving her lessons.<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaNfM9TieFVxBuP_nvNYxYoWmJjyY-DuRl0rxh2Jf7EEcANeqc9SyfoBSh34S0e-982FqCzMgbCo3XtxNlvHCW0DICgyIZHa3rjLRYitzhMLykfL7uJmRhLiehC-rr8r6RFmnmr-hVRXc/s1600/20160527_145741.mp4" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaNfM9TieFVxBuP_nvNYxYoWmJjyY-DuRl0rxh2Jf7EEcANeqc9SyfoBSh34S0e-982FqCzMgbCo3XtxNlvHCW0DICgyIZHa3rjLRYitzhMLykfL7uJmRhLiehC-rr8r6RFmnmr-hVRXc/s320/20160527_145741.mp4" width="179"></a></div>
<br>
Now if only I could get all my kids to practice with such enthusiasm!<br>
<br>Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05145855756986253836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187278682279294821.post-80637687048603131882016-07-18T22:31:00.000-06:002016-07-18T22:31:02.014-06:00Another Musician in the Family One of the by-products of growing up in the home of a music teacher is that one does not have a choice in whether or not one will learn an instrument of some sort. In Ella's case, she was completely and utterly . . .<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQedwaEWb4yslgI3Jh6Ngf6fuN3yLCqoq2BKGDCUwE7UjxzghmIZArOSO8jDvCA7o6d5dIOx-jG9AmCoFJXMD2tUCV2RiUH_qAH1vYoxl3nDMvBahr0M_WlN34sZPFq9rOo5tGJet0kSs/s1600/20160523_104827.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="312" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQedwaEWb4yslgI3Jh6Ngf6fuN3yLCqoq2BKGDCUwE7UjxzghmIZArOSO8jDvCA7o6d5dIOx-jG9AmCoFJXMD2tUCV2RiUH_qAH1vYoxl3nDMvBahr0M_WlN34sZPFq9rOo5tGJet0kSs/s400/20160523_104827.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
. . . . thrilled. I could teach her myself, of course, but instead I decided to give one of my students the opportunity (and extra practice) to learn how to teach. Mr. Denver is doing a wonderful job, and Ella is loving her lessons.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaNfM9TieFVxBuP_nvNYxYoWmJjyY-DuRl0rxh2Jf7EEcANeqc9SyfoBSh34S0e-982FqCzMgbCo3XtxNlvHCW0DICgyIZHa3rjLRYitzhMLykfL7uJmRhLiehC-rr8r6RFmnmr-hVRXc/s1600/20160527_145741.mp4" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaNfM9TieFVxBuP_nvNYxYoWmJjyY-DuRl0rxh2Jf7EEcANeqc9SyfoBSh34S0e-982FqCzMgbCo3XtxNlvHCW0DICgyIZHa3rjLRYitzhMLykfL7uJmRhLiehC-rr8r6RFmnmr-hVRXc/s320/20160527_145741.mp4" width="179" /></a></div>
<br />
Now if only I could get all my kids to practice with such enthusiasm!<br />
<br />Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05145855756986253836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187278682279294821.post-40545962813247512922016-07-16T20:51:00.002-06:002016-07-16T20:51:29.817-06:00Happy Birthday Gabe!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Gabe's birthday is actually in May, but he did not get to have his party until this past week.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Originally, we were going to take him and his friends to Trampoline World, but an hour before his party started he got very sick so we had to cancel it. Needless to say, he was a very disappointed little 8 year old.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
This time around, we decided to make the most use of our pool passes and have a pool party.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx_EJvnHUW4GyKQzJ-2die3CiNy6B-0w-jxqLmoKafue0PbmrN37_u7oV5E0gDyVO1v-H8zMDVmJuxAzRubPbMUY5lv1PdJ-bCKBr9b6yab4fQZ5pgtAF5zyFUah5EEiUV3ju-clpUScQ/s1600/20160715_131915.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx_EJvnHUW4GyKQzJ-2die3CiNy6B-0w-jxqLmoKafue0PbmrN37_u7oV5E0gDyVO1v-H8zMDVmJuxAzRubPbMUY5lv1PdJ-bCKBr9b6yab4fQZ5pgtAF5zyFUah5EEiUV3ju-clpUScQ/s400/20160715_131915.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I was a little worried how I would keep track of all the boys at the pool, but because it was overcast and cool, there was practically no one there.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUHokaRLVE-7-977ieVhY_YlSOZK__81N2o3da3tIcLOGYOqi7mdPaf30Jt4j2b7qUG9nYctz98w1Jd5fdw_0O6y3wQbXyTlFspKLG6_EVb4vCWwynThMENH-TgNuSygo2r5k1hO1BVtA/s1600/20160715_131544.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUHokaRLVE-7-977ieVhY_YlSOZK__81N2o3da3tIcLOGYOqi7mdPaf30Jt4j2b7qUG9nYctz98w1Jd5fdw_0O6y3wQbXyTlFspKLG6_EVb4vCWwynThMENH-TgNuSygo2r5k1hO1BVtA/s400/20160715_131544.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Because the pool was so empty, when we left we were the only ones that had been in the pool. All the lifeguards were congregated in the main building and when Gabe walked out of the locker rooms everyone sang happy birthday to him. He was thrilled!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJr99aJKujtzH8WXJu0YvJnjrcPPnQRO_X8pS9O0ZzMCm6aAxFhtSPndrfB3obMEJ7n0Z7VsEFqGupXPchPuxZLpYRMfQTDj3cpsAHAjPQLipPjCQ5wm2V79hbqBjaTiC7DSG3fU6Qo1A/s1600/20160715_152147.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJr99aJKujtzH8WXJu0YvJnjrcPPnQRO_X8pS9O0ZzMCm6aAxFhtSPndrfB3obMEJ7n0Z7VsEFqGupXPchPuxZLpYRMfQTDj3cpsAHAjPQLipPjCQ5wm2V79hbqBjaTiC7DSG3fU6Qo1A/s400/20160715_152147.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I wish I had taken more pictures of the way the kids and I decorated the birthday party room. We had streamers across the doors to look like seaweed and Bree did a beautiful job setting the table with an ocean theme.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIKXhK79tlyWJ1ZDj1d_ZvCajtTYUKDk_aw0g9noRTPAkfU90zZkUhViWZxeas0Tq3lbUoFUYw_uUrODXpOg4ORXqtqQrIOb1-eXLFxVftf_3Bn3GPZpEEq9QIC-ZRAQVeReIbKRsB0-M/s1600/20160715_154833.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIKXhK79tlyWJ1ZDj1d_ZvCajtTYUKDk_aw0g9noRTPAkfU90zZkUhViWZxeas0Tq3lbUoFUYw_uUrODXpOg4ORXqtqQrIOb1-eXLFxVftf_3Bn3GPZpEEq9QIC-ZRAQVeReIbKRsB0-M/s400/20160715_154833.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
I think he enjoyed his special day.Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05145855756986253836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187278682279294821.post-41721527180232391412016-07-03T22:10:00.000-06:002016-07-03T22:10:11.856-06:00A Very Happy Anniversary<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Handyman and I celebrated our 17th (what?!!!!!) wedding anniversary today. To mark this event, we shamelessly utilized family and dear friends (the family is dear too, of course) to watch the four kids and the two of us retreated to Chicago for two days.</div>
<br />
Our first outing was to the Chicago Botanic Garden. It was a lovely place to visit, and the weather was fantastic; nice and warm without being too hot, which is a rare thing in July.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs1b_Y2uUkAmDIJN9n4DYuTwUE500pvIe8OFDEStVECqvVVSobIA_l44r1-92iNDGYNgfbwiLehds585UBL-_ERPaIfLw5KmUPem7s2GqfUnoAdMa6srw8gAKku1B3Z9r0hNgEzqsTvxY/s1600/20160702_125518.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs1b_Y2uUkAmDIJN9n4DYuTwUE500pvIe8OFDEStVECqvVVSobIA_l44r1-92iNDGYNgfbwiLehds585UBL-_ERPaIfLw5KmUPem7s2GqfUnoAdMa6srw8gAKku1B3Z9r0hNgEzqsTvxY/s400/20160702_125518.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguKIGL6thznm6wSWjAFexmMkEIIH6_tUPI_chGpz5dg3T16GnxDkT_JICBEadQi7u752UROx6-BNIIt2uv6kRWe_Is8qy5Lj79D_4QTVhRFKs2yNQuNP44dN_Xsto8RMy5l4YvJnvbYvQ/s1600/20160702_144450.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguKIGL6thznm6wSWjAFexmMkEIIH6_tUPI_chGpz5dg3T16GnxDkT_JICBEadQi7u752UROx6-BNIIt2uv6kRWe_Is8qy5Lj79D_4QTVhRFKs2yNQuNP44dN_Xsto8RMy5l4YvJnvbYvQ/s400/20160702_144450.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
For dinner, Handyman found a lovely little micro-brew place in Gurnee where he happily tasted and slurped some beers. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVGbjJr_UT161exiIEl8wz351BO-LCkOKUwkxnRqnMJHzBQuwB0i-iqu5yidQHam6avGnuqgLP30PnTNJOFSqK97WO5Cwbjb_9Idh3lguZKIKC9aWjpOn_u1jeIQNTIv_LwP-GZ3PRveM/s1600/20160702_165812.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVGbjJr_UT161exiIEl8wz351BO-LCkOKUwkxnRqnMJHzBQuwB0i-iqu5yidQHam6avGnuqgLP30PnTNJOFSqK97WO5Cwbjb_9Idh3lguZKIKC9aWjpOn_u1jeIQNTIv_LwP-GZ3PRveM/s400/20160702_165812.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
<br />
It must have been in an upper-class section of town, because we saw more top-sider boat shoes and unfortunately colored salmon shorts with button-down, tucked-in cotton shirts than I have ever seen in one place. Only the truly economically secure can get away with such awful taste in clothing.<br />
<br />
The next day, we visited Navy Pier and took a sailing excursion on the Tall Ship Windy. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpH2nr7cpZWR9jCzsh0jtaqhHhRnMGr-T-djBWLHmhTmv3n_HojFx9gbo8y0ngBwUpkdDSCC8hGmNBo3_8qDeNAPWrdqi6YJd-Sw2e2OW4WBV_LQAVhjI5i01vpO0r_mgHu3uMSOYA7h0/s1600/20160703_134209.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpH2nr7cpZWR9jCzsh0jtaqhHhRnMGr-T-djBWLHmhTmv3n_HojFx9gbo8y0ngBwUpkdDSCC8hGmNBo3_8qDeNAPWrdqi6YJd-Sw2e2OW4WBV_LQAVhjI5i01vpO0r_mgHu3uMSOYA7h0/s400/20160703_134209.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
<br />
It was an hour-and-a-half foray along the Lake Michigan shoreline, and the guide on board had many interesting facts about some of the buildings that make up the beautiful Chicago skyline.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSg73RhhHD9MbNgbEKQBmQh90FyQ7A70_-mYzuymkNFHzId_t19yudMIWROoRvROuzIHpM0WThEGvWGHLIHpr1uvG4F5dVTxjCkKB_BFzAdxr2Ly3fop6Hg1EXfcy88lwIUN5ujCINx74/s1600/20160703_135136.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSg73RhhHD9MbNgbEKQBmQh90FyQ7A70_-mYzuymkNFHzId_t19yudMIWROoRvROuzIHpM0WThEGvWGHLIHpr1uvG4F5dVTxjCkKB_BFzAdxr2Ly3fop6Hg1EXfcy88lwIUN5ujCINx74/s400/20160703_135136.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
It was more crowded on board than we had anticipated, so walking around wasn't much of an option. Still, the weather could not have been better and the view was excellent.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJuVa0NKCLrtB7MJZsxzWfbuAe_3uvFUazp8ViYrJngHQwQu-ltZXSS6aVOXsStheBqHMUDf8AFY4vNxQ4EcbopqLue3ttLAGMRHbUukX7yqvFjMVOgBD6r37wJZJlBq_ufrhkxPwFrH0/s1600/20160703_141258.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJuVa0NKCLrtB7MJZsxzWfbuAe_3uvFUazp8ViYrJngHQwQu-ltZXSS6aVOXsStheBqHMUDf8AFY4vNxQ4EcbopqLue3ttLAGMRHbUukX7yqvFjMVOgBD6r37wJZJlBq_ufrhkxPwFrH0/s400/20160703_141258.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I even managed to fit in a few stitches . . .<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJoOYIcrrpOzQLGb5autfxUVF_uZP2hTuOklmAEHagl2ugzkO6cWeVFnP1PqYaMFPGjKdd_qOL05-eBWIpiG9vhuX-FhuUuWBRe9UZtp1RR_qAy0Wj4aErIt1TcQ0EISuDQjvINwu7qb0/s1600/20160703_135759.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJoOYIcrrpOzQLGb5autfxUVF_uZP2hTuOklmAEHagl2ugzkO6cWeVFnP1PqYaMFPGjKdd_qOL05-eBWIpiG9vhuX-FhuUuWBRe9UZtp1RR_qAy0Wj4aErIt1TcQ0EISuDQjvINwu7qb0/s400/20160703_135759.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglQgg3T_aHl0ztiVrdLC0kzL4JMeYYbFRJP9mKerF0Ngjo2MfNQTcyM9Am8KJZRwA0kWfwc4oeaAiupBiiJ_8wemZm6N51mBEaUzs1mJPK6Xu0e4LWfCMZ5VBE1haCdNNsO1JuM7Mv2Go/s1600/20160703_141412.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglQgg3T_aHl0ztiVrdLC0kzL4JMeYYbFRJP9mKerF0Ngjo2MfNQTcyM9Am8KJZRwA0kWfwc4oeaAiupBiiJ_8wemZm6N51mBEaUzs1mJPK6Xu0e4LWfCMZ5VBE1haCdNNsO1JuM7Mv2Go/s400/20160703_141412.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
After walking around the city for awhile we settled on a lovely little cafe called Bijon for our anniversary dinner (and dessert!)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1LTZAzyhDnz58iQGNZx1Ofy-9yIdVGKz3in9ZK9KVZDi_nR1_A6Jtp3tExhPC8DFUuHDOB2gv1MyDpbPL8r08_Q3NoiKPh6-MgkGcy72XS_Vc3QR5FAmxol1Yo65PkKvq62s2l6TTYqA/s1600/20160703_172656.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1LTZAzyhDnz58iQGNZx1Ofy-9yIdVGKz3in9ZK9KVZDi_nR1_A6Jtp3tExhPC8DFUuHDOB2gv1MyDpbPL8r08_Q3NoiKPh6-MgkGcy72XS_Vc3QR5FAmxol1Yo65PkKvq62s2l6TTYqA/s400/20160703_172656.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
It was right on the corner of "Honorary Carpenter" place, which we thought was a good omen.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB6aVjOEQHv2VzEk2Q4_gVT893YAtS7bsVlM3w4w-5Jhgqs6a_T3kv6hu_MRB7HbU6kP-763yygOSPNycjh1KEJ_Wf3h-f_Y_Xg7BWJG-lcb116AtVibn_3s7yDCMGK4H3h8D3WtRqUjQ/s1600/20160703_174643.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB6aVjOEQHv2VzEk2Q4_gVT893YAtS7bsVlM3w4w-5Jhgqs6a_T3kv6hu_MRB7HbU6kP-763yygOSPNycjh1KEJ_Wf3h-f_Y_Xg7BWJG-lcb116AtVibn_3s7yDCMGK4H3h8D3WtRqUjQ/s400/20160703_174643.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
<br />
All-in-all, an excellent way to spend an anniversary!Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05145855756986253836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187278682279294821.post-30741510424936660842016-07-01T16:23:00.000-06:002016-07-01T16:24:41.818-06:00Bunting Socks<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhdqZVjYMs8IoGFenUuA7mFjfbnbrRf6kLkOuaN5Z62Vo9dhO2Kv3IwCVr8ODk9Lcm4LuO0q3apmfqd45IMD94qYJk4q6vrLRe4RhiZGmd_rPXugaB4Hcb_MwncJGRredVHw7iJAqQ7d8/s1600/20160624_175853.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhdqZVjYMs8IoGFenUuA7mFjfbnbrRf6kLkOuaN5Z62Vo9dhO2Kv3IwCVr8ODk9Lcm4LuO0q3apmfqd45IMD94qYJk4q6vrLRe4RhiZGmd_rPXugaB4Hcb_MwncJGRredVHw7iJAqQ7d8/s400/20160624_175853.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Just in time for Independence Day! My local yarn store was carrying a lovely patriotic colorway by Fiber Seed called <i>Stars and Stripes</i>, and I decided to try to come up with a fun sock pattern using the variegated yarn and sparkly yarn by Kraemer called Sterling Silver and Silk. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL-4oY0ETpSTUnDKt2Qe1k1kZB7kSRx-r485_qEjFxkxX-uiuKZ-TONDK3pKpgoPMqHgrVzN_1KQCQIJ4QlgpFRfpwQp8X-US3H3G0rcmFvalEAscSrdWCvKamNCkMKVlfWu9PeSF-KY0/s1600/20160624_175653.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="311" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL-4oY0ETpSTUnDKt2Qe1k1kZB7kSRx-r485_qEjFxkxX-uiuKZ-TONDK3pKpgoPMqHgrVzN_1KQCQIJ4QlgpFRfpwQp8X-US3H3G0rcmFvalEAscSrdWCvKamNCkMKVlfWu9PeSF-KY0/s400/20160624_175653.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The Sterling Silver and Silk is a lot of fun, because it adds a very subtle sparkle to the socks, very reminiscent of fireworks!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWxc7hM6vac3u3XePn5tfTJFveIeJbe2btC9F6dFe5qjslKP2GNMVr26tstx7Hvy-8nO8yftyJlDHc0rh08j1E6VcIudNJuvvkR8cAPKoLXNKmyG6maeluJ7tyjpsnkJMzu41l9PNWR6k/s1600/20160624_175639.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="323" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWxc7hM6vac3u3XePn5tfTJFveIeJbe2btC9F6dFe5qjslKP2GNMVr26tstx7Hvy-8nO8yftyJlDHc0rh08j1E6VcIudNJuvvkR8cAPKoLXNKmyG6maeluJ7tyjpsnkJMzu41l9PNWR6k/s400/20160624_175639.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Breanna's feet are almost the same size as mine now, so I am shamelessly utilizing her as my sock model. It is much easier to photograph someone else's feet, ha ha!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBo1vOPKeR6BS1fqU9rTYPDYeE4JYmql25uy2CbQOjEBV9je7AC9IQKA7rAMTqqAgiCN6Kb_cQJNrYtKwmfxiMAucYqCHQy67QOkB0lMEuDj3VwGcc0nxOFm09agfJGhPWdzwlbqn8lDM/s1600/20160624_175718.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="278" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBo1vOPKeR6BS1fqU9rTYPDYeE4JYmql25uy2CbQOjEBV9je7AC9IQKA7rAMTqqAgiCN6Kb_cQJNrYtKwmfxiMAucYqCHQy67QOkB0lMEuDj3VwGcc0nxOFm09agfJGhPWdzwlbqn8lDM/s400/20160624_175718.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The pattern is now available on my Ravelry page (click here for link<a href="http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/bunting-socks#" target="_blank">http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/bunting-socks#</a>) if you are interested.</div>
Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05145855756986253836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187278682279294821.post-35261837779235979622015-11-15T22:03:00.000-06:002015-11-15T22:03:04.028-06:00An African Feast<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSnxJK2dDU1SsZV6JO4Mol0KcCivBx0qfkI-P0-2SL-kDtcGnZvIoWGPo3a51FzS878G5L8eSJXOFQO08icnDmS_33dR7rvmjXtaYyaWg6K6qXVwBn-VbEDTev8VY50Nrxke9k33sQ-NQ/s1600/2015-11-15_17.19.30.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSnxJK2dDU1SsZV6JO4Mol0KcCivBx0qfkI-P0-2SL-kDtcGnZvIoWGPo3a51FzS878G5L8eSJXOFQO08icnDmS_33dR7rvmjXtaYyaWg6K6qXVwBn-VbEDTev8VY50Nrxke9k33sQ-NQ/s320/2015-11-15_17.19.30.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
The kids have currently been studying ancient Africa in their history lessons. Our history book, Story of the World, always has some very cool hands on activities that correspond with the history lesson.<br />
<br />
We don't have time to do all the activities that I would like, but I do try to make at least one thing with each chapter section. This particular activity was perfect for my kids, because they just love food!<br />
<br />
We got to make an African style dinner! Peter made steamed yams.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd3FRGHsiF1skRdKnipFvP3tZ0xdAaGj2LxxMQV4oAEWsce1JL7cegmnKOntCpzDSnag9Brm6uQaUtR0tjYuRmqSNWJ5lDmTBbir18LOIourQdwZJ5uJoiBXdMm1a0xrTMkjsVvxHJD8Q/s1600/2015-11-15_17.18.57.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd3FRGHsiF1skRdKnipFvP3tZ0xdAaGj2LxxMQV4oAEWsce1JL7cegmnKOntCpzDSnag9Brm6uQaUtR0tjYuRmqSNWJ5lDmTBbir18LOIourQdwZJ5uJoiBXdMm1a0xrTMkjsVvxHJD8Q/s400/2015-11-15_17.18.57.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
<br />
Gabe made the main dish, which was chicken legs cooked with figs, lemon, parsley, and other spices.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Dh539xDthZhjj5krcS8N3mDf3m2rBYT5h_0hmhLFfchZ1q48lWePGOnS2Gj9gLJTaG_IxqUcAnu8DlASkTlQ_szz18hOD3F4RkFuD7MOq-A_cJrlGm3P3RUckYbT_iq2foNZmYuPg38/s1600/2015-11-15_17.18.20.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Dh539xDthZhjj5krcS8N3mDf3m2rBYT5h_0hmhLFfchZ1q48lWePGOnS2Gj9gLJTaG_IxqUcAnu8DlASkTlQ_szz18hOD3F4RkFuD7MOq-A_cJrlGm3P3RUckYbT_iq2foNZmYuPg38/s400/2015-11-15_17.18.20.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
<br />
Brianna made the rice, which had some interesting spices as well as papaya and red peppers!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiovQebXD15DJRD0nh7js9j7PsjEjKbKkPHPWsQFiEgKKSayGM8BfCyDTtL5Hs30UUFdv87NtZM1RpbFVLEKKrhohtkqQPUrFMypmaE6rMs-qnEJgY-H0KUbVKK1DMkp2TIgHf8t5fIUzM/s1600/2015-11-15_17.17.38.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiovQebXD15DJRD0nh7js9j7PsjEjKbKkPHPWsQFiEgKKSayGM8BfCyDTtL5Hs30UUFdv87NtZM1RpbFVLEKKrhohtkqQPUrFMypmaE6rMs-qnEJgY-H0KUbVKK1DMkp2TIgHf8t5fIUzM/s400/2015-11-15_17.17.38.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
<br />
Several of the fables in the chapter were about Anansi the spider and food. The kids enjoyed getting to learn about the foods in the stories.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivlvo00dv5bXPuOE9PG1k1YgoybYJiX66VAlpfgL74xFzMDkJP0iCqEHTpNE_sXSExnJc6QZXlfqMFUPNHzz_rN2gKv_uxVBOaqfFMefy7CFKUdd5H5nt7ID19hbveEw8AG5tKUxhfo-E/s1600/2015-11-15_17.16.47.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivlvo00dv5bXPuOE9PG1k1YgoybYJiX66VAlpfgL74xFzMDkJP0iCqEHTpNE_sXSExnJc6QZXlfqMFUPNHzz_rN2gKv_uxVBOaqfFMefy7CFKUdd5H5nt7ID19hbveEw8AG5tKUxhfo-E/s400/2015-11-15_17.16.47.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
<br />
I also made some fried plantain which everyone enjoyed very much, surprisingly. Peter liked the meal so much that he requested it for his birthday dinner!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA24zVTtUsKF00TImY6nwCoKOC5-Sr3Xwef972-AFZ-bGiYX8gKKcAamELTLHww2SQkpB9ldNtWCEYECkNIev3XTnNiv7-zhXMnqyH0oAonPuwUjPKslyDLauUivZFEz_IKqexQWQd4js/s1600/2015-11-15_17.15.56.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA24zVTtUsKF00TImY6nwCoKOC5-Sr3Xwef972-AFZ-bGiYX8gKKcAamELTLHww2SQkpB9ldNtWCEYECkNIev3XTnNiv7-zhXMnqyH0oAonPuwUjPKslyDLauUivZFEz_IKqexQWQd4js/s400/2015-11-15_17.15.56.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05145855756986253836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187278682279294821.post-9260424006274455932015-11-08T22:46:00.001-06:002015-11-08T22:46:36.171-06:00Vignettes <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMgGgFQ7LfdYxlbeZyZUYDWaVk_3gq3nAl9HPqM5kM-hVMZ2mPAGPD-sUKFpThKu3nbTAaNJjl_mPNCBEBcSG5RfZuLqWSbeZcxCwJAZBcOVl7XQfQkM0woeQgKG9p6jcIslxmys2unjQ/s1600/20151108_150147%257E2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMgGgFQ7LfdYxlbeZyZUYDWaVk_3gq3nAl9HPqM5kM-hVMZ2mPAGPD-sUKFpThKu3nbTAaNJjl_mPNCBEBcSG5RfZuLqWSbeZcxCwJAZBcOVl7XQfQkM0woeQgKG9p6jcIslxmys2unjQ/s400/20151108_150147%257E2.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
<br />
This has been one of the most beautiful autumns I can remember.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8lJWpU4yN7ede5_gSin1etROPVj03EfBzklEPOa-zNjY-Nt7-d7Wio02h9m1tqPnecH7UGxNizwERe5WekHRmHttp589qREhkiPRA2VegpYfcmVJOMp05z_LbZECAtT77ov5FBM7vPBg/s1600/20151108_151158%257E2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8lJWpU4yN7ede5_gSin1etROPVj03EfBzklEPOa-zNjY-Nt7-d7Wio02h9m1tqPnecH7UGxNizwERe5WekHRmHttp589qREhkiPRA2VegpYfcmVJOMp05z_LbZECAtT77ov5FBM7vPBg/s400/20151108_151158%257E2.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
<br />
I have been using every excuse to get outside and enjoy the last few waning days of warm weather.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_ar63pMNAg1yW1wxUuTKQ01MIl1vw8lxejD9eqIetBOLXL8Ma2cceH1KnFEBZC8ryhBXlOkuRd8Jahign_C3nmgiy5yANN3bTyw6ESgcPBugflJvmHqDHWDrNta_IvYWdKafi8-IzlFU/s1600/20151108_150518%257E2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_ar63pMNAg1yW1wxUuTKQ01MIl1vw8lxejD9eqIetBOLXL8Ma2cceH1KnFEBZC8ryhBXlOkuRd8Jahign_C3nmgiy5yANN3bTyw6ESgcPBugflJvmHqDHWDrNta_IvYWdKafi8-IzlFU/s400/20151108_150518%257E2.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtUNdvQqPg981eA-lLjOSYSn2CbWtUWmxGZE9ALozkMfbyPjw6UUIB_7BweWFLDIkh_xIlIj-AUbZ4NS4KKzI2TLdptFXNp4uzOwsaUhJqsnrnqVojdfLqslfVF_UmE-xUBZLv4u7oIhs/s1600/20151108_144604%257E2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtUNdvQqPg981eA-lLjOSYSn2CbWtUWmxGZE9ALozkMfbyPjw6UUIB_7BweWFLDIkh_xIlIj-AUbZ4NS4KKzI2TLdptFXNp4uzOwsaUhJqsnrnqVojdfLqslfVF_UmE-xUBZLv4u7oIhs/s400/20151108_144604%257E2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
It is so easy to get busy with day to day things and forget that there are some beautiful places to go for a nature walk nearby.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEKkmqn4i5pGzBf3BB_IEoo99oVioAwcBJ_wRfntwaI0JucButOMl79GJLN1v4jA9PwxChb0ClbvLPFCrHXAx3-9UxquSwPvxJwZIHYp-8FprduzxTx6LRlmgahvnDDiLRNCk8svzNiN4/s1600/20151108_144617%257E3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEKkmqn4i5pGzBf3BB_IEoo99oVioAwcBJ_wRfntwaI0JucButOMl79GJLN1v4jA9PwxChb0ClbvLPFCrHXAx3-9UxquSwPvxJwZIHYp-8FprduzxTx6LRlmgahvnDDiLRNCk8svzNiN4/s400/20151108_144617%257E3.jpg" width="238" /></a></div>
<br />
Bringing my camera with me is a lot of fun as well, because it makes me more aware of little vignettes of beauty that I would normally just walk right past without noticing.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin92arT9WzdkwP1R4kiYAgJ_tOML8H7yzFqCqDT66hhA20bw6y9l7x-VXArRMouE4-39U0vWOfE6Dltu5mfbPM9UOIYZC5RM2K_iu6KzrYghY-2eg8T1LTPUkSH7l4MhAO4fgemVrtozI/s1600/20151108_144852%257E2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin92arT9WzdkwP1R4kiYAgJ_tOML8H7yzFqCqDT66hhA20bw6y9l7x-VXArRMouE4-39U0vWOfE6Dltu5mfbPM9UOIYZC5RM2K_iu6KzrYghY-2eg8T1LTPUkSH7l4MhAO4fgemVrtozI/s400/20151108_144852%257E2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU6INd9DK6_XfvNDBaHg4Qzof6zZSX75wsJEBZ5a61tHx0gRoxlB2M_SAlrbn3coiPCW6rKXADC6GiPkPCxY2K0BhIV861gku2VwFM4M-FwegpdvtSGlth27MenyTaEfe9P-NxOiC6HAU/s1600/20151108_145636%257E2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU6INd9DK6_XfvNDBaHg4Qzof6zZSX75wsJEBZ5a61tHx0gRoxlB2M_SAlrbn3coiPCW6rKXADC6GiPkPCxY2K0BhIV861gku2VwFM4M-FwegpdvtSGlth27MenyTaEfe9P-NxOiC6HAU/s400/20151108_145636%257E2.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghhkRk0g4_Ijhb1o2pDn0Ujs6wpY3itooq_Gis8Aqwu0dUl4uKXB9Xo2hsoUVZa2xC14ByTxPBs_Bk4cBB_dl_b_-ao2-hJHWoKmhxL3qnXpAl8f-S3oAFXt61As_wEhxnhbbvkCO4rPY/s1600/20151108_145248%257E2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghhkRk0g4_Ijhb1o2pDn0Ujs6wpY3itooq_Gis8Aqwu0dUl4uKXB9Xo2hsoUVZa2xC14ByTxPBs_Bk4cBB_dl_b_-ao2-hJHWoKmhxL3qnXpAl8f-S3oAFXt61As_wEhxnhbbvkCO4rPY/s400/20151108_145248%257E2.jpg" width="246" /></a></div>
<br />Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05145855756986253836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187278682279294821.post-13613846269567444712015-10-17T08:42:00.005-06:002015-10-17T08:42:48.687-06:00A Walk in the Woods <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX1VMzHqhKxuVviD87ZqFiEP7AKu3LbpRx2y9YwlUDcYX81vP2Cc1VxHwercKWCoh4ijF7qad9MnyWKK4E5SvZOkcrV3cXorDLWuCuuzglzgzrL02lRfockp9KrZd6gMHagH1dT6_NGG8/s1600/20151014_133507-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX1VMzHqhKxuVviD87ZqFiEP7AKu3LbpRx2y9YwlUDcYX81vP2Cc1VxHwercKWCoh4ijF7qad9MnyWKK4E5SvZOkcrV3cXorDLWuCuuzglzgzrL02lRfockp9KrZd6gMHagH1dT6_NGG8/s400/20151014_133507-1.jpg" width="273" /></a></div>
The weather here in the Frigid North has rapidly become, well, more <i>frigid</i>. (We had our first frost last night.) I decided to take the kids for a nature walk to enjoy one of the last beautiful afternoons of the season.<br />
<br />
I will admit to having ulterior motives. I needed some very long branches / tree limbs for our annual Thanksgiving tree and I haven't been able to find any in our backyard that would suit.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_jQYPTH3BZ5b_71wsbmyI8uqHV7Z3d-as6Sz-ffP0Gv33MX9GDWYaLaaMKc70d6j7QltDj_WpL-XryiE6Y1yb6FoWTz9fomxxLmqeQUqMEPqjNJ-y5_Px3D_0DFqXuoZg0UhnGMuEjcw/s1600/20151014_133637.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_jQYPTH3BZ5b_71wsbmyI8uqHV7Z3d-as6Sz-ffP0Gv33MX9GDWYaLaaMKc70d6j7QltDj_WpL-XryiE6Y1yb6FoWTz9fomxxLmqeQUqMEPqjNJ-y5_Px3D_0DFqXuoZg0UhnGMuEjcw/s400/20151014_133637.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
<br />
I also wanted to give the kids an opportunity to find more mushrooms for their daddy to enjoy. Andy and the kids are avid mushroom eaters and they get a thrill out of finding some hiding under some fallen leaves or in a nook in a downed log.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcE7DMyyiuPRwkAz-abUKZWCeg0cvlUM9F3-hvbrujdv065SqcOy6u00yk_a0RVc9Hzd8VOY_0QCL7iwiTAJa26Y1wxlrGcdAqQJqjc2nsbe5eT9o7NRC6_9B7DDua71RKNuHQ0MZTFtk/s1600/20151014_132701.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcE7DMyyiuPRwkAz-abUKZWCeg0cvlUM9F3-hvbrujdv065SqcOy6u00yk_a0RVc9Hzd8VOY_0QCL7iwiTAJa26Y1wxlrGcdAqQJqjc2nsbe5eT9o7NRC6_9B7DDua71RKNuHQ0MZTFtk/s400/20151014_132701.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
The mushroom pictured above is called a Hen of the Woods. It is a ground-growing mushroom that looks a lot like a pile of leaves. This particular one wweighed about 10 pounds or more and was a bit tricky to get back to the car. If you notice in the picture above with the branches, you will see it nestled in the branches. It was too heavy for me to carry so I had to drag it!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDIBqHzk_DTsLbNx0nHatdVfPIWZ9sFt7nxA-Syh_9lgBJ9cejSBRyXF613f3gfeVnzXV97SCMl5IGWfdGwe3_ahdzA4YCuwbqX54tf1X4a35Lcw7Rv9hJYa9tOVQvhlBvsVyzm6l6s-g/s1600/20151014_131745.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDIBqHzk_DTsLbNx0nHatdVfPIWZ9sFt7nxA-Syh_9lgBJ9cejSBRyXF613f3gfeVnzXV97SCMl5IGWfdGwe3_ahdzA4YCuwbqX54tf1X4a35Lcw7Rv9hJYa9tOVQvhlBvsVyzm6l6s-g/s400/20151014_131745.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
<br />
This mushroom was the second Hen of the Woods that my Gabe found. We are starting to call him the Fox of the Woods because he is so good at finding the Hen of the Woods!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrS27oYD1iNNpe2iAdfbGFMM9QkorBvFvFWzn9Kn6H20cncRXUnYO3EonejqMQDnjkksR56oEBwNihH03TYbNMQC8CzBgHTIZTcX-ZbfdZx36oTZpr-Yv0DO7lzc6DDQzumw9mMoq7N6c/s1600/20151014_133150-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrS27oYD1iNNpe2iAdfbGFMM9QkorBvFvFWzn9Kn6H20cncRXUnYO3EonejqMQDnjkksR56oEBwNihH03TYbNMQC8CzBgHTIZTcX-ZbfdZx36oTZpr-Yv0DO7lzc6DDQzumw9mMoq7N6c/s400/20151014_133150-1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05145855756986253836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187278682279294821.post-31896150467494467022015-10-10T08:25:00.001-06:002015-10-10T08:25:49.136-06:00New Gnome Dresses<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
It has been a long time since I felt like sewing. My schedule is usually so busy that finding the time to sit and accomplish something isn't possible very often . </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4GlsCENHnJlTyAgnd021ZWeU5oCN3OAG5bSzzFJpdWcf2e4HWhGjQCcXMuX_TXyQ9amncJPemV5_kb2vOmPpDZ37EnGOoaUgPB__oERci-XJ4Z65Chp3YtjhkeOOAzeIkcwbFuYCyYHQ/s1600/20151010_085714.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4GlsCENHnJlTyAgnd021ZWeU5oCN3OAG5bSzzFJpdWcf2e4HWhGjQCcXMuX_TXyQ9amncJPemV5_kb2vOmPpDZ37EnGOoaUgPB__oERci-XJ4Z65Chp3YtjhkeOOAzeIkcwbFuYCyYHQ/s400/20151010_085714.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
<br />
I prefer to purchase my fabric through a small online store called <a href="http://fabricworm.com/" target="_blank">fabricworm.com</a>. The quality of the fabrics is excellent and they have such unique patterns!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYjv3bbJWj-kzyjfKwnEefFT-mJJ72hbIeFjKu5FDBDcCrxAB6gyiZWE318HYpyqFxZLzD6ZDQQbL4V4bpHkQAHkrgvJREzLglEBMewYAwrQNOubQ_pQpJp65VCCm7gaxXqqfDuYOhZeA/s1600/20151010_085733.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYjv3bbJWj-kzyjfKwnEefFT-mJJ72hbIeFjKu5FDBDcCrxAB6gyiZWE318HYpyqFxZLzD6ZDQQbL4V4bpHkQAHkrgvJREzLglEBMewYAwrQNOubQ_pQpJp65VCCm7gaxXqqfDuYOhZeA/s320/20151010_085733.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
For this dress I actually used to pattern. (Usually I don't because I am impatient and want to start sewing right away!)</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHgw5ggFDH41-G7LmCMDoiPVITFZPvrngOQCqXNVhOgPTdo64GomK3UZUIIDqYF5e1J9dDuG2ue43LPSnc9BqJSQkTfyLRuYJJRlxsHZgW2kpxUITWI15I0_na8LnB1rAM3w7jlsU1qys/s1600/20151010_085735.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHgw5ggFDH41-G7LmCMDoiPVITFZPvrngOQCqXNVhOgPTdo64GomK3UZUIIDqYF5e1J9dDuG2ue43LPSnc9BqJSQkTfyLRuYJJRlxsHZgW2kpxUITWI15I0_na8LnB1rAM3w7jlsU1qys/s320/20151010_085735.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
<br />
I made a similar dress for Breanna, but this time I just winged a pattern.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3cBgBbUAOe_XGZF5LSakzL30xpIZKboKSxUH7q70Ias6mM7s0iqwWvjVBUN8yQk7Qdnwilf7uH0WkRlze3j4-QvrQn56IBSV4Yb6DzuwSbKwCFyQYr-a5PzR2Jjgy7k8Uq3a4TPfOR0g/s1600/20151010_085940%25280%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3cBgBbUAOe_XGZF5LSakzL30xpIZKboKSxUH7q70Ias6mM7s0iqwWvjVBUN8yQk7Qdnwilf7uH0WkRlze3j4-QvrQn56IBSV4Yb6DzuwSbKwCFyQYr-a5PzR2Jjgy7k8Uq3a4TPfOR0g/s320/20151010_085940%25280%2529.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
<br />
They look so cute together!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzsVJZit5kSN-TVMbtvMczaArxYAGJuXui4FHLpcxwW4Oh5q4y1cs3Nb6FfxOSiOk6U-TQX4wx5wxO60JZ9DdWbX6oP2gk6ouS4OPqnMdJPZXp3jW9cd457ROMurKOEzbbXKclCAY8poA/s320/20151010_090005.jpg" width="180" /></div>
Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05145855756986253836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187278682279294821.post-84050547588003650862015-09-05T13:52:00.000-06:002015-09-05T13:52:00.140-06:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<object id="BLOG_video-UPLOADING-0" class="BLOG_video_class" contentid="UPLOADING" width="320" height="266" ></object></div>
<br />Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05145855756986253836noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187278682279294821.post-41665408677564781462015-09-03T13:50:00.001-06:002015-09-03T13:50:07.996-06:00Glam Shells for Grandma<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTQmDI4Apu0iiifhJAx3a0pvHvyMzmvOtxs9v_wTrvVPGkPSNL1k-qzt7L8XPEfY8Fagx1nYIv7WlMnT1FDbaZS5cgDekBpHOW8uip8xls98RWBv3v4pRwZQ3g2poEHntSwkbuECFKlc8/s1600/IMG_20150903_143227.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTQmDI4Apu0iiifhJAx3a0pvHvyMzmvOtxs9v_wTrvVPGkPSNL1k-qzt7L8XPEfY8Fagx1nYIv7WlMnT1FDbaZS5cgDekBpHOW8uip8xls98RWBv3v4pRwZQ3g2poEHntSwkbuECFKlc8/s400/IMG_20150903_143227.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
My Grandma in Hawaii will be celebrating a birthday in a few days, so I decided to knit her this shawl as a present. Obviously, living in Hawaii as she does, the weather is a lto warmer than it is here in the Frigid North. That beings said, it can sometimes get a little chilly in the evenings so a light shawl should be useful.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIPG9jXxWvbN4Adgxrc-vnCYykHd702N3BEx5eWbFlkzjjAQoJPJWfsWCOKxCdGeZCVpMpMYrzN4HMqMiyRWZ7vdzOoppYUcbXY310MsMEmgTO2QDrq9qLwbHG94snKFIKjylm1Vg6DIg/s1600/IMG_20150903_143238.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIPG9jXxWvbN4Adgxrc-vnCYykHd702N3BEx5eWbFlkzjjAQoJPJWfsWCOKxCdGeZCVpMpMYrzN4HMqMiyRWZ7vdzOoppYUcbXY310MsMEmgTO2QDrq9qLwbHG94snKFIKjylm1Vg6DIg/s640/IMG_20150903_143238.jpg" width="362" /></a></div>
Right now I have it "blocking", which means it is still damp from a light rinsing and is pinned out to dry in the shape I wish it to be. (The kids were asking me why I was making a Batman blanket.)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjET2xFFJYOcGzcQC9_YZmliyxY5Yv4HmzVkqcemeg_kzywb4PvffJ2afwCRZx3Zr9mDAiudx5iL08xW145FNlX-4RZCH4v2-Cx_GpQMOkprOLONhDZLBEwv62k5N_zVq3yLHnv600nUZ8/s1600/IMG_20150903_143255.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjET2xFFJYOcGzcQC9_YZmliyxY5Yv4HmzVkqcemeg_kzywb4PvffJ2afwCRZx3Zr9mDAiudx5iL08xW145FNlX-4RZCH4v2-Cx_GpQMOkprOLONhDZLBEwv62k5N_zVq3yLHnv600nUZ8/s400/IMG_20150903_143255.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Once the shawl is dry, I will unpin it and it will still have the same shape. I don't know if it shows up in the photos, but the yarn has a beautiful silver sparkle to it.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha7_TlqqzxmXbvxCvbBLmNVkiNVKHbPCyO-wE4lpwMoBEz7iT7iHNuTZLoNiURiFSC4ZkYxNlod4RqjcXoqGJBuJDy8_2-DqX6kYQfMCs111hA-0nam7rsQ5XOYpmAimgl4qGHtHHTfnc/s1600/IMG_20150903_143248.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha7_TlqqzxmXbvxCvbBLmNVkiNVKHbPCyO-wE4lpwMoBEz7iT7iHNuTZLoNiURiFSC4ZkYxNlod4RqjcXoqGJBuJDy8_2-DqX6kYQfMCs111hA-0nam7rsQ5XOYpmAimgl4qGHtHHTfnc/s400/IMG_20150903_143248.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
A glamorous shawl for a Glamorous Gram!<br />
<br />
Pattern: <a href="http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/glam-shells" target="_blank">Glamshells</a><br />
<a href="http://www.ravelry.com/projects/Dutchorchid/glam-shells" target="_blank">Link</a> to Ravelry Page<br />
Yarn: <a href="http://www.ravelry.com/yarns/library/anzula-nebula" target="_blank">Anzula Nebula</a>Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05145855756986253836noreply@blogger.com0