Colored Passion

The word of the day "my day" seems to be passion, it has "popped" up several times and is speaking to me. The problem with my passion is that it encompasses so many things and narrowing it down is like choosing which color of the rainbow to omit. It simply can't be done. Perhaps one can focus without becoming so narrow in vision that important facets of the vision are neglected or removed.

It seems as if as long as I've lived someone has asked me to fit my desires and passion in his or her box. What always happens is that I box bits in small cubbies and then end up putting the boxes in other boxes. I just can't say no to this thing or that thing just because someone "thinks" I should.

Let's take for instance music. I live and love music. I don't like certain styles of music, but even within the (don't like) pile are small exceptions. I don't like confines. I play the accordion, but haven't had formal lessons. I love the free play method of music when it's allowed to flow from my spirit. I enjoy hearing a tune or melody and then figuring it out on a given instrument. I don't want to copy someone else, but love to share in their end product. I may put my spin on their songs, but I don't ever want to "steal" it by playing it exactly as they would.

The ONLY person I ever give complete permission to limit my life is God. He has the best perspective over my life, He is goodness, and I trust Him. If Abba says, "no" it's for my own good. Only He has the right to make any sort of demand on my life. I suppose if I am honest He colors my passion. He puts the violets in the rainbow of my desires. He paints the azures of my creativity! He even directs the symphony of my soul's deepest expressions. He is my greatest passion. Like the crazy man delivered by the Lord I hear His direction to me when I beg to follow Him: "Go your own way and tell them the great things God has done for you today". And so I shall!

Selah•


Cerise
Love never fails.

Saturday Evening Journeys

Who would have ever thought that folks would spend their Saturday evenings journeying across the world via the Internet? One can start in one's own living room and end up as far away as China just by doing a little computer surfing. Most of the time I find it more interesting that television because TV can be fake. Of course the stuff people post on the Internet can be faked as well, but even if it's faked the fact that someone personally takes the time to create something here and post it is interesting to me. I love taking a little time in the social network world and then perhaps check into a few blogs. I get a kick out reading other women's blogs no matter where they are. I can "sneak" into places where I might not be accepted normally. I can learn about worlds that were formerly unknown before. I've learned what "steam punk" is by being online. I am intrigued by those who do things differently than my regular "friends". Foreign culture is also very interesting as well. I'm careful not to let my spirit absorb trash, but to understand those so much different than myself gives me a door I wouldn't have otherwise.

This morning I spent a couple hours with a Ukrainian girl. She gave me a manicure and worked on her English as I worked on my Russian. We laughed and talked and also were quiet. We shared "chai" and I was sad when our time was up. She met her husband online via the Internet. She is growing her business and I'm one of her new customers. The Internet brought her from the other side of the world to Texas! How awesome is that?

I love this Saturday evening journey because I NEVER know where it's going to take me. Sure I have some routines I stick with, but I can just take a detour and voila I'm in another world. It's exciting to me and I look forward to where this journey will take me. It will give me more to write!

Bon voyage!

Autumn Morning

 How crisp the air, so pure and clean
How lovely is the dew's pure sheen
The trees are soon to shed their wear
And drop their garments from the air
Out come the sweaters, drapes and more
From mothball trunks and other stores
Good books we'll gather, mugs of brew
Cocoas, teas and coffees too
Around camp fires we huddle near
And sing and laugh of stories dear
We relish seconds and hold them close
For winter hovers dark and marose
Enjoy the pumpkin pie and apple
For soon with winter we shall grapple
Gather now around the table
For autumn soon will be unable
How crisp the air, so pure and clean
How lovely is the dew's pure sheen
Autumn sings so short her song
Enjoy the morning ere it's gone.

Domestic Goosebumps

There aren't many objects that thrill me or that can cause chills to run up and down my spine. I'm pretty careful not to let "things" be my center, but I do enjoy a couple of material things very much. One is vintage linens and the other is vintage aprons. What is it about an apron that can make me dewy eyed? I think it's all about childhood memories. My grandmother "ALWAYS" wore an apron. She wore hers in the kitchen, living room, bedrooms, dining room and even in the yard. She didn't wear one to church, but she carried one with her in the event she ended up in the kitchen. I also remember the feeling I got when I put my first apron on and was allowed to work with grandma to make boysenberry pie. I felt so important. It was different than any feeling I'd ever had before.

Knowing where you belong is so important to the human psyche. Not belonging is a funeral dirge to the soul. Having self worth and confidence as a young person helps one become a productive adult. No one ever made me feel quite as confident as my grandmother. I loved the special quiet times she and I would share. Even when my younger brother and I would go visit grandma and grandpa together, grandma made me feel like I was the center of her world. I never felt like she favored one of us over the other.

I digress. The apron was grandma's "badge" of authority in her home. My grandfather was clearly the head of the household, but grandma was the directing force in their home. Her practical thinking and gracious hospitality made her tiny home in Redwood City, California seem like a mansion to all who graced its doorstep. Grandma made it seem "wrong" to work in the house without an apron. Not that she'd ever actually said it was wrong, but the moment I walked in the kitchen and asked to help she "dressed" me for the job at hand. Her aprons had the smell of freshly hung laundry. They were always crisply ironed and never dirty. Each apron was a work of art. The outside edges were normally piped or surrounded with perfectly sewn bias tape borders. They had deep pockets and would cover my entire torso. They were also supremely feminine and I longed to own one for myself.

My beloved grandmother now graces the portals of heaven with her presence. I miss her dearly when I think about her. My little sister confessed she misses her more having spent more time with her before she passed onto heaven. I understand her loss.

It wasn't long after marrying and starting my own home that I began to notice aprons again. I saw them in the department stores and in specialty stores, but they were NEVER as pretty as grandma's. I love spending time in antique and second hand stores. Being my grandmother's granddaughter, my frugal nature had me shopping for household needs in such stores. It was there I began noticing vintage aprons much in the style of my grandmothers. I bought one and then another, and then another. I know I have several up in my attic. I have a couple in one of our homes and a couple in our tiny farmhouse. No kitchen is complete without an apron! No housewife is properly dressed without one.

I am just as tempted by vintage aprons as I was the first time I discovered someone had foolishly or "accidentally" let go of hers at an antique store. I can get goosebumps today just by trying them on. I honestly believe I was born about 100 years too early. In my youth I served as a docent in a historical museum. I was blessed to work during "Living History Days" several years in a row. We churned butter, made sour dough bread, pressed apples in a cider press, ground corn for masa and hand quilted a pieced quilt top on a quilting frame. The whole affair made me yearn for harder and simpler times. Museums focusing on pioneer times are full of old domestic goods. These all make me drool and imagine earlier days filled with housewives doing their domestic duties. It's all so far removed from the world we live in now, but not so far from my heart. I think I'll get busy and make a scaled down apron for my precious little granddaughter and continue the tradition. I'm getting goosebumps just thinking about it.

Way Too Much Fun

I got home yesterday afternoon from one of the funnest activities I've ever participated in. I attended the "Tim Holtz Extravaganza" in Roswell, New Mexico. "Imagine That Scrapbook Store" hosted the event and I'm still surprised Tim agreed to visit little Rosberg! Having lived there for twelve years I'm familiar with the sleepy little town.




The event was kicked off by the mayor as he presented Tim with the key to the city and proclaimed August 26th 2011 "Tim Holtz Extravaganza Day".

We got right to "work" at creating shortly after the hoopla, and didn't slow down the entire two days. Tim filled the two days with so many projects it felt like bootcamp by the end of the evening Saturday night.



There were forty happy women who were blessed to attend the two day marathon and I'm sure not one left unhappy after all the creative fun.


Tim is not the least bit haughty. A sweet spirited young man. Along with his helper/partner Mario Rossi we were well attended to. We came home with so many projects and Ranger and Tim Holtz products we should be busy for months creating and remembering the fun!


What a blast! I'm not sure if I'll get to attend another Tim Holtz workshop, but for all who get the opportunity I recommend you do what you can to attend!

Love never fails.

Three More Days

I don't normally count down to special days. I stopped doing that a while ago (except for vacations with hubby and cruises), but I am looking forward to my next road trip and "girl's days out" with my friend Vicky. I have to blame Vicky for this whole thing. I was an innocent bystander until she introduced me to the altered art stylings of Mr. Tim Holtz. Now I find myself quite happily enjoying everything he does and copying a lot of his style when I create.

My little sister got me hooked on scrapbooking. Actually I've been hooked on it for years, but never allowed myself the luxury of partaking in the hobby. I knew if I ever started it could be a time consuming, thought provoking, art expressing thing and anything that involves those three things has my full attention. My sister sent me an adorable scrapbook that set fire to the totally dry kindling of this passion. The little spark she sent my way caused a huge bonfire and I don't see too many signs of it cooling soon.

Three appears to be the number of the day for me. In three long or short, depending upon one's outlook, I will be on my way with Vicky to Rosberg, NM (My name for Roswell) to attend a two day seminar/workshop instructed by the a fore mentioned Timothy Holtz. We will be learning techniques and using a lot of the Ranger Ink products he promotes. We will also be in one of my all time favorite haunts; Imagine That Scrapbooking store!!! Yay! I've been saving my Visa Gift cards for this event and am basically on pins and needles waiting for the time to pass.

For now I'm filling my time with what else but scrapbooking. Our grandmunchkins came for another week's stay and we scrapped our trip to Disneyland and Knott's Berry Farm. Zee and Zip each went home with their own photo album and their own scrapbook. We took well over 600 pictures and that meant we could pick the best of the best to CROP.

I'm still quite a novice to the whole scrapbooking thing, but I'm a weathered veteran to crafting. I love using all my other craft skills along side of my scrapbook work. Whether embroidery, painting, drawing, or a myriad of other gifts I love blending them in the pages of our memories.  Soon I'll be able to add this latest adventure to my scrap arsenal. I never thought I'd long to go to Roswell after living there for 12+ years, but I do. I get to spend time with a dear old friend. Play with a new friend and learn from a skilled artisan. What more could a girl ask for? I know a cruise with hubby on one of Tim Holtz's altered art cruises! That HAS to be next.

S-T-R-E-T-C-H

I constantly see my farm animals stretch, but they pretty much do it because they are either growing or age is causing them some pain. Here I am in my fifties and the Lord and situations around me are causing me to stretch. I guess if I compare one sort of stretching to another, I too follow suit with my critters. God is causing me to grow and situations cause pain which makes me stretch as well. 

Today I'm considering the stretching I'm going to have to do because my grandkids are coming for a week. I love them and we have a blast together, but their youth makes them a lot more active than I'm accustomed to participating in. It's just a week before school starts and gpa and gma are going to take the munchkins on a shopping spree for school clothes and backpacks. Los abuelitos already purchased all their school supplies (sans facial tissues). Grandkids don't typically enjoy naps, so gma will have to be creative in filling time slots with things they enjoy while she steals forty winks (fifty if she can finagle it). 

New technology is causing me to stretch as well. I've managed my personal website: http://www.proverbialwoman.com for ten years with Microsoft Frontpage. Now I'm on a new laptop and have to use something else. I've been experimenting with another program, but my old favorite was a whole lot more intuitive and I miss it dreadfully. I'm half tempted to just use the old laptop for the managing of my website, but I know that is simply putting off the inevitable. STRETCH!!!

I've heard the old boring cliche, "No pain, no gain" until I'd like to put it's author on the rack for a week or so and help him gain a whole lot of pain. Ok, so I really couldn't do that. Talk about stretching the truth.

I've also come to the conclusion that my chosen line of business isn't profitable and with the economy in shambles, folks aren't interested in the superfluous nature of scrapbooking in the retail persuasion. I know we're all going to have to be more creative in our finding and using our resources in the days ahead. So I'm rethinking the way I approach my girlfriends. Saving and recycling will be the way of our future. STRETCH.

I have been studying goal setting and achieving and I've been avoiding DOING the steps it takes to achieve a couple of my goals; lose 50 pounds and learn Chinese. One goal is a personal health goal and the other is a spiritual goal. I've done little to achieve either. Ignoring them sure won't help me achieve them and spitting tiny pathetic efforts is mediocrity and I won't put up with that in myself. So STRETCH is on the agenda. My first step toward both is to set a deadline. I believe a year for the 50 pounds and 2 years to be able to carry on basic introductory conversation in Chinese is acceptable. So there, I did it. I put the deadline out there for me to see and for the world to see. The world will do little but mock me as I head towards the goal, but being accountable is one of the steps in achieving goals. And to think I actually bought the books that laid out the steps towards goal setting. I could have procrastinated the whole thing forever had I just let it go, but that just isn't my way. STRETCH.

Can we all say, "OUCH". Time to break up both goals into bite sized pieces. Why did I use a cliche involving food? No time like the present to address that question, but for now I need to think about averaging 2 pounds of fat loss per week. STRETCH and bend and STRETCH and bend.