You are currently browsing the monthly archive for April 2008.

I was expecting yellow to be a bit of a challenge in and around my house.  So much so that I was pilfering yellow wooden animals from my office to bring home and photograph.  Turns out I didn’t need them.

Clearly the little daffodils failed to heed the message from the weather radio and blossomed despite below freezing temps.  These were planted in fall of ’06 (and didn’t blossom last year), so we were especially surprised to see them.  A very pleasant surprise.


Not much crafting going on around here.  I’m starting a sewing class tonight and have yet to decide on a pattern, much less get fabric.  Yes, I need to get fabric.  On the one hand, I need more fabric like a hole in the head.  On the other, I don’t tend to buy much yardage as I collect, so I don’t have enough of anything appropriate.  Brad asked how my April craft allowance looked.  I could only mutter, “maybe we should count this under the clothing line item??”

I decided to try my hand at Curious Bird’s Color Week.  Here’s to a green Monday:

As I write this, it is far earlier in the morning than I am typically apt to be up and about. What has driven me from the warmth and comfort of my bed so early? Pain.

The pain that woke me up is from my tooth. Oh. My. Word. The dull pain that sent me to the dentist yesterday has developed into an acute pain that sends me running for the ibuprofen. A call to the dentist’s office for “something stronger” is not out of the question. I’m actually eager for the upcoming root canal. The sooner this is dealt with, the better!

The pain that is keeping me awake is of a different sort. A friend of mine just lost his mother to Alzheimer’s on Sunday. I suppose she may have been lost to him long before, as that is the nature of the beast.

I struggle to use the word friend. It has been a long time since I could easily describe us as friends. The intervening crap is complicated. We likely would have parted ways years ago had the situation allowed it. We work together. He’s my boss. At a church. Like I said, complicated.

Over time, the complicated crap has settled into functional dysfunction. A dull pain.

The death of his mother has made that pain more acute. At one time, I think that I would have been on his short list of friends to call. An offer of support accepted. Now there is nothing. Silence. We receive information only through the grape vine.

I am truly sorry for his loss.

I am also truly sorry for the loss of our friendship.

There’s nothing to readily ease this pain. No ibuprofen. No root canal. Just time. More prayer.


I have been anxiously awaiting the availability of oliver + s patterns. The designs are so lovely and graceful without being fussy. Once they were available, the biggest problem I had was deciding which one to sew first. I opted for the tea party sundress, but the puppet show tunic is high on my list too. Honestly, I was scared off from trying the puppet show pattern by the 3 out of 4 scissor rating for difficulty. I consider myself an advanced beginner and am a chicken when it comes to trying anything remotely difficult. I may have to get over it though. I am truly a sucker for a peter pan collar.

Here’s my first attempt at the sundress (sorry, I’m having trouble uploading the images, so you’ll have to check them out on flickr).  Not too bad. I had all sorts of fabric combinations in mind, but was feeling a bit gun shy. Basically, I wanted to make a test run so I could feel somewhat confident that I wasn’t going to screw it up. I pulled out a couple thrifted sheets and voila! Never mind the fact that Sarah will match some napkins I made a while ago…

Our recent trip to Memphis rekindled my need desire to learn smocking. My pipe dream is to be able to make a smocked dress for Lizzie for Christmas. It’s a beyond a long shot, but a girl can dream, right? Anyway, I reserved a few books from the library. We’ll see what I can glean from a book.

I’m still not entirely sure “vacation” is an appropriate descriptor for a trip involving 3 small children and 1 bedraggled mama, but why quibble? I will say that the visit to Memphis was a success.

  • We all survived airline travel and didn’t seem to make any lifelong enemies from fellow passengers.
  • The kids had a great time with Grandma, Grandpa, Aunty, Uncle and cousin.
  • I was able to enjoy three meals out with friends from high school, sans children, with only one “come relieve me of your screaming child” phone call.
  • And there was only one day that I seriously contemplated listing my children for sale on Craig’s List.
  • Despite days and days of rain, we were able to get out and see some beautiful signs of spring.

Our visit did remind me that there are things I really miss about Memphis:

  • the water – artesian well water, better than bottled
  • dogwood and cherry trees in bloom
  • seeing little girls in smocked dresses on an ordinary Tuesday
  • bbq!

It also reminded me of some of the things I don’t miss:

  • the politics
  • the crazy drivers
  • the fact that nobody walks anywhere

There’s little chance we will ever live in Memphis, but I am grateful that my children look forward to returning for a visit. The chance to spent time with Grandma and Grandpa is high on their list of fun and excitement and that means a lot to me.

Lest I forget, GO TIGERS! 🙂

Three or four years ago we flew down to Memphis for spring break to visit my family. At some point during the flight, I noticed that Lizzie had a few red bumps on her hands. Weird, but probably no big deal. By that night, the poor thing was covered head to toe – hives. An allergic reaction to amoxicillin. Fast forward to last Saturday, soon after arriving in Memphis for spring break, I notice Joshua had a few red bumps on his hands. Yep, he was taking amoxicillin, too. Is there some weird chemistry between amoxicillin, airplane air and Memphis that brings out this reaction in my kids?

Coming home is always a potentially strange experience. Too many opportunities for those dysfunctional parent-child dynamics to play out. This trip, there have been fewer of those encounters and more of the surreal time warp type. I’m currently sharing my childhood bedroom with Sarah.  Childhood bedroom, not the one I claimed after my sister went to college.   This is the walk-in closet sized room in the center of the house with no windows to the outside.  The other night I found myself curled in bed reading by flashlight.  Strangely familiar.
I’ll leave you with a sampling of the book titles I’ve noticed around the house:

  • The Sheer Joy of Celestial Mechanics
  • Trigonometric Delights
  • Japanese Temple Geometry

Quick, go put them on your Amazon wish list!  You know you want to.