Monday, April 25, 2011

What was that crunching noise that I heard while I was perusing the blogosphere? Hey! Those are your brother's and how do you know that bright blue chicks wrapped in cellophane are edible?!?

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

What I Am Good At

Procrastination, not grammer.

Since I am not doing much of what I am supposed to be doing today, I figure I should do some blogging.

I updated my Ravelry with some projects, an Owl washcloth that I am sending to my Aunt. She collects owl cookie jars, but this might be fun to wash them.
My Ishbel, made with my very own handspun from batts made special for me by Laurie.

And the remnants of my Tea Leaves. The funny thing is, it is such gorgeous yarn, it didn't hurt nearly as much as I thought it would to pull out all.those.hours.of.knitting.

And I discovered in the process that I do a pretty good job of weaving in ends.

We are taking the kids to DC.

Next time there will be someting interesting for you to see!

Happy Easter.

Sunday, April 17, 2011

We have celebrated one april birthday with another in just a few days! I am very thankful for a good year and hopeful for another.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Why I Do It

This Quilt with stitches, strong and true

Holds all the love I have for you;

No antique treasure or work of Art,

Just the simple gift of a mother's heart.

Gay stitches with some dark mixed in

The way my love for you has been;

Joy and Pride, some worry, too,

Evenings waiting up for you.

As I placed each stitch with patient care

I thought of you and breathed a prayer

That God would keep you safe tonight

And show me the way to guide you right.

Now you are grown, my job is through

As the quilt is bound and finished, too;

It holds my love and faith and care

To travel with you everywhere.

It may not seem important now,

But keep it safely anyhow;

And when there is no one else to care,

You'll find my love still waiting there.

To hold you warmly for a while

And see you through a time of trial,

No antique treasure or work of Art,

Just the simple gift of a mother's Heart.

--Author unknown

I won't judge you if your eyes are still dry. I first saw part of this poem over a decade ago in a newsletter from the sewing shop that I frequented. They had published the first stanza, it is written on the back of both of the boy's quilts that I made shortly after. They liked it and would have me read it to them before bed. I am getting ready to finish my first quilt for Lil'OnE and while looking around for it to write on her's, found this version. It is a pity that it is annonymous, it is so beautiful. But then, maybe it is better, because there is no distraction from the sentiment that is of my heart for my own children.

I create to satisfy my own soul, but that expression is of my love for my life, my husband, my family. The stitches of all kinds, threads of many colors, textures and strengths, weave and bind and knit us together; for better or worse, richer or poorer, sickness and health, honor roll or c's, potty trained or stinky diapers, skinned knees or shirt and tie, hair bows or tangles, scattered toys or legos in their bin, crockpot dinner in or childless dinner out. They are mine. And I love them.