Summertime Knitting <> Summertime Temperatures

These tiny leggings are for Christa.  As you can see, I'm still not fully certified in pom-pom making.  I need to practice before I can take the exam and be a card-carrying pom-pommer. 

Stay tuned for further developments.

Blackberry Winter

…The name of an award-winning band featured on the movie “Winter’s Bone.” 

…A term used to describe a brief period of cold weather that coincides with the time the blackberries are in  bloom.  (from DavesGarden.com)

…A reality here in the Ozarks. 

I spent an hour and a half Sunday morning picking blackberries.  The warm sun, the sweet and lush smell of honeysuckle, the companionship of obese bumblebees drunk on nectar and the plentitude of purple-black berries transported me to another time and place.  I felt like a young girl again, riding my bicycle with my brothers, a garbage bag tied to my handlebar, off in search of summer’s best fruit.  The culmination of a day’s work was Mom’s blackberry cobbler, topped with crunchy pastry and melting vanilla ice cream.  Bliss.  Blessing. 

I don’t remember ever being hot during those blackberry summer days.  I do remember ticks and scratches and poison ivy.  And the sting of a bath afterwards.  But blackberry cobbler and eating one’s fill of berries were the memories worth remembering. 

As I picked, I prayed.  I counted my blessings.  I looked into the bowl from time to time to see the bounty incrementally increase.  I considered what type of crust I would make.  I thought about the pleasure on my family’s face as they took their first bite of the first blackberry cobbler of this year. 

Bliss.  Blessing.  Bounty. 

Thanks be to God.

Update

June:  July of 2011

June:  Now

Christa:  June of 2011

Christa:  Now

Collaboration

Ballerina by Penny.

Accessories by Christa.



Sam's Club Spirituality

Or “How Shopping Promotes Spiritual Growth.”

I’d like to think that it does.  At least, I do a lot of praying when I’m at Sam’s Club.  “Lord, help me to put back that bucket of chocolate chips.”  “God, do we really need a dozen mangoes?”  “Please help me remember why I came here in the first place.”  “Help!” 

I’ve been to Sam’s twice in a month.  Twice.  I’ve gone years without shopping there and now I’ve been on the premises twice, actually in two weekends.  I’ve volunteered to shop for some of the outreach ministries at church.  So I’ve gone with the best of intentions.  And I’ve come home tainted, with more goodies than were on my list.

Is it the big, bright shiny boxes?  The “incredible” deals?  The novelty of items that we would never buy on our weekly, local grocery store foray?  What is that cheese anyway?  Have you ever seen shrimp so big?  Wait, is that the sound of my stomach rumbling?

I get overwhelmed; maybe a little scared in Sam’s.  But, if nothing else, shopping there inspires me; it fills me with new ideas.  Sure, I’ll buy that $200+ juicer and start drinking kale.  I MUST start wearing grey tank tops and keep cool and look cool at the same time.  And if I had a set of 32 multi-colored Sharpies, I could draw a masterpiece!

I certainly get lost and find myself in the camping aisle (I haven’t camped since high school) thinking I need a switchblade with 27 gizmos.  Or maybe Ken needs one.  Clare should have one in the car. 

I know, I can get my birthday/anniversary/Christmas shopping done early!  Ken would like a new shovel wouldn’t he?  What about four dozen white athletic socks for Matt?  I could certainly fill the stocking quickly that way, couldn’t I?

So short of walking around with my eyes closed and bumping into the merchandise and other shoppers or clamping my olfactory system shut with thumb and forefinger, I pray.  Fervently.  Intentionally.

“Lord, help me find my shopping list.”  (Underneath the wine, the chocolates, the cheese).

“Oh, and can you help me stick to it?”

Goof Balls

My Take on Upcycling

The glasses that weren't quite right for me.  I've always had a fantasy of red glasses.  So the plain glasses became a slightly more spicy version, thanks to oil-based Sharpie pens.

The beloved cashmere sweater with holes in it.  Holes?  What holes?  Those are stars!



Is It Love?

From This to This to This

Thanks Auntie

There's nothing like crowns and high-heeled pink slippers to make a girl smile.  Unless it's long dangling earrings to match.  

Time For a Confession

I'm 56 years old.  Nope, that's not the confession.

I've lived in Springfield, MO for 17 years.  I've had hundreds of meals in restaurants while living here.  I visit Commercial St. probably once a week.  But I've never eaten at the locally famous Pizza House.  I atoned for my sins this past Friday night. 

Where has this pizza been all my life?  Sigh.  The Vegetarian Deluxe. 

I followed that culinary experience with another first.

As we sat down to listen to Cindy Woolf and The Foxes at Lindberg's, Ken said "You've never been in a bar before have you?"  "Not in this country," I replied. 

I know, I've lived a sheltered life. 

To top off the quintessential Springfield experience, we should have gone to Andy's Frozen Custard.  But pizza, pear cider, white wine and frozen custard.  Not going to happen. 

Remember, I'm 56 years old.

A Sunny Day at Carnac

I started this painting about three years ago.  The day we visited the famous archeological site at Carnac was warm and bright and amazing.  I hope I captured that feeling. 

A Very Serious Topic

Who knew that decorating balloons could be so serious?

I wish I knew this when I was much younger. 

Enough said.

Currently Reading

Attacking the Mending Pile...

that has been sitting in a chair in the family room for MONTHS!

This beautiful sweater was knitted over 30 years ago in Irish wool by a dear friend Karen Egger.  As beloved sweaters do, the elbows were wearing out.  At first, I pinned on the usual navy blue suede patches.

And then this idea came to me:

This will be fun to wear in the fall.

Yet in the Midst of Sorrow

there is joy.

And not to be trite....blueberries.  And not only blueberries, but grand-daughters and blueberries.  And blueberry picking with dear friends on a perfect June day filled with cool breezes, moderate temperatures and sunny skies.  And the making of new friends and desserts at the end of the day.

This can become that.

But in the meantime, there's this:

Thanks be to God.



Goodbye Friend

  Let light perpetual shine upon you Grady.

Thank you for being a friend and mentor and humorist and motorcycle rider and volunteer and fellow clergy spouse and dog caretaker and bus driver and so much more while here on earth. 

I will miss your humor and your listening skills.  I loved your quirkiness and your ability to care deeply about so many and so many issues, a rare combination indeed.  You touched many lives and you left us too soon. 

I will see you on the other side.  We'll have lots of catching up to do.