Recouperating

That was a bumpy 6 months! I'm finally starting to recuperate, by which I mean that I have some free time and am using it. Mostly to craft....

To that end, I welcome you to look me up on Ravelry (Flaming Maiden). See you there!

But suicide is against God's will...?

Fox "News" Talk Radio recently interviewed pastor Wiley Drake, a former VP of the Southern Baptist Convention.  In the interview, Drake talks openly about praying for President Obama's death.  He also attempts to apply logic to the idea of praying for somebody to die, and goes on to tell listeners that "many" people are happy to learn that the Christian God allows for such prayers.  I'm not a Christian, but I still call Bullshit.  These same people are often against doctor assisted suicide for terminal patients, and are vocal about their disdain of abortion rights. 
You can listen to the insanity here:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DRKrGbu7aXQ&sns=em

A stiff one

I just wrapped up a four day straight gardening blitz.  I fully landscaped the shade bed along one side of the house, fixed up the front beds, worked on the back bed which needs a lot more planted once the wild violets stop blooming and I can pull them out.  I desperately want a TON of ranunculus to grow in the back, they are so very lovely: 

Over my four day gardening marathon, I planted two hydrangeas:

 And two tomatos:

A cantaloupe:

A watermelon:

About 14 herbs:

As well as two pink azaleas, two scarlet rhododendrons, strawberries, garlic and 12 hostas.

We have very rocky ground here, and I woke up this morning almost incapable of moving or speaking, my body is so stiff and sore.  My eyes are a bit swollen from the allergies that mulching caused to flare up.  All in all, I'm not nearly as on top of things as I should be today.  I need to get a ton of work done this week, as next week is dedicated to getting ready for the fillies to run.

Ah, Kentucky spring!  Instead of pouring a stiff one, its my back that's stiff! 

Back to the Bonfire

A lot has gone on since I abandoned this space. The most important being that my depression finally became so deep, so dark, so desperate that even I finally recognized what was happening to myself and my family. So, I found a decent doctor and got on medicine that works well to overcome the genetic infinite sadness that I inherited from my Grandmother. So, I'm a lot better, nearly whole. And my family unit is much better, and feels very whole, which is vital as the years of expensive infertility treatments added quite a lot to my depression and my family didn't feel whole and I didn't feel whole and the whole thing was really falling to pieces around me as I struggled to keep them glued back together.

Now Chris, and E, and I are the glue that holds everything else around us together. In a very good, very happy way.

See? Glue.

Along with becoming happy and whole, I started my own company! A little copy writing business that I love very much, and that is growing all the time. For the many friends who have been wondering where I am and why I never answer the phone and rarely return calls, here is the answer:

Chris made the logo; I love it! I have intentions of having that little inkwell tattooed above my elbow.

Which proves that I did NOT turn into a medicated zombie, and that I am indeed still my regular, fiery, The Flaming Maiden: Nicole! self. I turned 30, and my Mom gave me this for my birthday present:

That, my lovelies, is a tattoo on my right shoulder. It is a large (to me) fiery lion. As a matter of fact, it is THE fiery lion that pulls a fiery chariot that carries a fiery Prince, WHO, it turns out, is in fact my very fiery son.

He has learned how to ride a bike this Spring.

Though I don't have as much time as of late, we do still craft. I am currently working on lots of socks, and an afghan for Chris that is a tiny bit like one his mother made him when he was a boy. It rained Sunday, so E and I had time to hole up in the art studio.

I tried to make a pincushion from scrap fabric. I need to reopen it and add some stuffing-- the bottom is rather poky.

Chris's Granny has recently been in the hospital, and very on our minds and in our prayers (she is recovering). A combination of that, and a giant pickle jar induced me to come up with this:

I used a piece of a quilt top that I inherited from Granny's old sewing stash, then I sewed it- wait for it--- using zigzag stitch all around the edges to a piece of-wait for it--- that sort of grippy shelf paper! Do you know what I'm talking about? The shelf liner that keeps the rims of glasses from chipping? Only I have very pretty grippy shelf liner! So now we have a very pretty kitchen grippy for opening jars! And it pretties up the giant pickle jar too!
As an added bonus, Chris informed me that his Mama used to have a quilted jar lid cover that she used on giant pickle jars. Mine is grippy to make it easier to open jars, but it's the same concept. Folks, that's like two sweet things for Chris in one!

Also, he gets to eat the pickles. Unfortunately, we are crazy for giant pickle jars and Ezra and I need Chris to eat two of these jars of pickles as quickly as possible. I hope he's up to the challenge. To be fair, Chris started it. He uses a giant pickle jar to store corks for the miniatures that he carves. I have one giant pickle jar that I store ribbons in (it's so pretty!), and recently had a reason why I need another, though I can't remember just at this moment what it is. Yarn, maybe? Ezra wants one to fill with "pricklies" that he collects on his bike rides around the neighborhood. They are some sort of large, prickly seed pod that falls off, I think it's a ginko tree, maybe. Anyway, he collects them and wants a jar to store them in. He also has plans to grow one of these trees in our yard so that we will have a never ending supply of pricklies. I think we should start it growing in a pot so that it can grow into a sapling before we plant it in the yard so that it doesn't get cut down by the lawnmower.

See? Whole.

Decision Making

Okay internet, I might need you to weigh in on this one. I am considering applying for a full-time job. Realistically, I don't have much chance of getting it. I have the minimum requirements and not much else. But it's a great job. I'd love to have it.

The problem is, I don't know that my clan is ready for me to work full-time, outside the home. I really believe that a lot of the reason that Ezra is so well adjusted and intelligent is that I've been able to stay home with him and foster his interests. Of course, the same week that I am getting my resume in order, he got sick and has been home the last two days, which brings up a host of other issues to address, like childcare.

So, the problem lays out like this: Is it worth what I view as a major sacrifice on the part of my husband and child for me to go work full time at a totally freaking badass job? I admit that I am bored in my current situation. But, Ezra will only be little for a little while longer, and I have like, 40 more years to work.

*sigh* Tough decision. I should also note: If I go for it, and they do offer me the job, I will almost certainly take it. It's a matter of do I toss my hat in the ring, knowing that I will take it if offered?

Memorial Day Weekend

This weekend, Chris moved a few tons of landscaping bricks, and together we moved about 4 tons of dirt and compost. We turned ourback yard from this:

To this:

That bed is where we will grow our own organic veggies for the summer. I think I'm going to need to learn how to can.

Let summer begin!

(No really, I'm tired of this school year and am ready to have my kid back-- Let Summer Begin!)

Rose

It never ceases to amaze me how you can set out to help somebody and end up being the person who gets helped. This morning I set out with my dear friend Regan to volunteer at a free medical clinic being put on by several churches in our community. Neither Regan nor myself are church members, but my neighbor had mentioned this clinic a couple weeks ago, and Regan and I both jumped at the opportunity to get in a day of service.

Which brings up another curiosity. Regan and I both attended Transylvania University. Regan and I are both members of Alpha Omicron Pi. For four years each, we did mandatory volunteer work-- we had to get a certain number of volunteer hours each semester. We both have histories of volunteer work from our high school days. This begs the question-- do we enjoy volunteering now because we learned this behavior, or do we continue to enjoy volunteering due to some innate characteristic? Either way, a hearty day of volunteering leaves you feeling full and complete, and worn out in the best possible way. Like you've earned the right to sit in front of the tv for the rest of the evening, and fall asleep absurdly early. And it's worth falling asleep early because you know you will sleep well.

But back to my original point. I left out of here this morning intending to help somebody, intending to briefly enter a stranger's life and make it somehow a little bit better. Instead, I think I'm the person who was helped. I was assigned as an advocate, or buddy-for-the-day slash tour-guide, to a couple: Rose and James. They are your average lovely people, quite down on their luck. Absolutely the type of situation that breaks your heart and makes you entirely grateful for just how easy your life truly is. It seems Rose had a mini-stroke a few weeks ago, and has been living with it for weeks. She now uses a cane, and unfortunately all the clinic doctor was able to do is recommend that Rose go to a hospital for an MRI. Luckily, Regan and I were able to give Rose the peace of mind that when she goes to the hospital, there are programs in place to pay the medical bills. I hope that helps her. I hope knowing that somebody (me) cares deeply and desperately wants her to get help somehow helps her. I hope I was able to help Rose feel validated, like a deserving person. I just don't feel that I did enough to help her.

Rose did a ton to help me. Like I said, this clinic is a missionary outreach by several churches. In our morning's training, we were encouraged to proselytize (sp?) to our hearts' content. Uh-oh, I thought. My thoughts on Jesus are conflicted at best. I believe in God, but I also believe in Science. How am I going to lead people through this day when I'm expected to do it through faith that I might not have? How am I going to do the thing I am being asked to do? What if the people assigned to me are totally Godless? Will I be in trouble if I don't pray with them? What if they want me to give a prayer? Gosh, I hope don't freeze up.

But what happened instead is that I was assigned to Rose and James, who live a life steeped in deep faith. Instead of prostelitizing to them, they prostelitized to me, which was quite fine. All day long, I heard the word of God as translated by Rose and James. Some of it was questionable, but the point is this-- God reached out to me. And I really needed it. Then, quite at random, while standing in line for lunch, Rose told me to become a writer. I explained that it was a funny statement to make, particularly because I am a professional copywriter. A few minutes later, in chatty conversation she asked me a question about my husband's job. A question that does not match his current job, but totally matches a job that he interviewed for yesterday. I told her this, and she said "Oh, it must be one of my visions-- the job (with this particular characteristic) is his job, and though it will be new, he will excel at it. That's his job, and you all will be very happy."

So, I wanted deeply to help this woman, and instead God reached out through her and gave me the exact help I need. A boost to my Faith and a knowledge that everything really will be okay. I can't wait to find out if Rose is right about the job.

2 Down, 4 Left

Today marks the end of the second week of the job search. Mister has a phone interview this evening, and we're praying he gets some face to face interviews next week. Google announced this morning that it is laying off 200 people.

I openly admit-- I am scared stiff.

Are We There Yet?

I know I have been a bad blogger as of late, what with the not updating. Due to the poor economy, The Mister finds himself in the position of needing to find a new work position in the course of 5 weeks. As you can imagine, this has the entire household stressed to the max, what with the phone ringing off the hook and the iPhones beeping that Mister has email constantly. It's noisy, and stressful, and at the end of the day we all just want to collapse but the phones just keep rattling.

Which is great, we're just thrilled to have a sense that things will all work out alright in the end. But it is a long road to getting there. There are some very big decisions that must be made- like do we move and have to sell our house in this awful market when a comparable position is likely to be offered right where we are? If we move, with our sense of adventure flying like large red flags, will we regret it in a few years, only to find ourselves in a location with a smaller job market and longer commute? Perhaps most importantly, if we move to said location, can I have fancy-pants chickens? Where can I get some of those wooden shoes so they don't peck my toes when I feed them?

(Thanks to Curious/Funny Photos/Pictures for this guy.)

In the meantime, I am attempting to consider some Spring sewing that I had planned. I am currently coveting Weekend Sewing by Heather Ross. All the sewing bloggers are going wild over it, and I really, really want this book-- on top of the clear instructions and detailed information explaining the point of what you are doing, it comes with actual paper patterns! Paper patterns! Say it again: Paper patterns! I am waiting for Mister's job mess to get cleared up before purchasing this fantastic wonder of a book, because I am a responsible adult like that. Geez, I hope it is very, very soon.

Playing Dead

We've had a particularly busy and off-schedule few weeks, and now that most of the things that were running us raged are done, we are all rather deflated and worn out. To that end, we purchased and downloaded Pop! to our Wii.

This game is great, you just pop bubbles. You can play it timed, against each other, or cooperatively. All in all, the game is much better conceived than I had expected for $7.

And I really must insist that you watch this demo on YouTube. Just so you'll truly understand just how mellow we are being over here. Now it's time for my nap.

Reprieve

I finished the great big overwhelming project yesterday and immediately set myself to putting my house to right. Before I could clean, though, I had to take a few minutes to make pillow covers:

I know it's not the most exciting thing to talk about, but it sure felt great to sew a little something. I haven't had time to sew in weeks. That fabric is taken from the stash, and while it's not the world's most lovely fabric, the colors match the room and it's a huge improvement over what those pillows actually look like. And who doesn't love a bit of free decorating? Those are simple covers that just fold in on the open side. I'm all about removable covers so I can wash stuff.

Washing stuff is exactly the plan for today, and I need to get to it.

Valentine's Day

This V-day really has me thinking a lot about Ezra. About him as a changing person, about my relationship with him, about ways that I can use this holiday to help him find the joy of giving (I know, that's supposed to be a Christmas thing). And a lot about this little family of mine, and the intimacy that we enjoy. While it is hard to give up the idea of another child, I really love my little family and the dynamic we have.

Of course, every holiday is an excuse for some great crafting. Ezra made valentines for his Aunt Regan and his Daddy. He helped me put together the valentines for his classmates. And, he made felted soap (from The Little Travelers tutorial) to give to each of his teachers.

You start with wool roving. I got mine at a fiber festival a couple years ago and have managed to keep the moths out:

Isn't it lovely? Though I realized after taking this picture that this particular roving is a wool/silk blend. I wasn't going to waste it on soap, so we used my turquoise and purple all alpaca wool roving, which worked well as the soaps we used are purple.

You fill a bowl with warm water and add a little all natural soap- The Little Travelers suggests Dr. Bronner's and of course I was thrilled to oblige! Then you wrap each bar of soap (all natural bar soap works best, though we used glycerin), dunk it in the sudsy water and basically just wash your hands with it until the wool felts nicely. Young children will need help with this, though Ezra really loved it. It was a great way to fill an hour and get wet and sudsy!

You end up with something like this:

Let them dry a few days on parchment paper, then wrap them in butcher paper, parchment paper, or wax paper. The heart stickers I intended to use to hold the little packages closed wouldn't stick to the parchment paper, so I tied each with a little yarn bow. Ezra was very excited to give them out today.

Of course, I had to steal some time late one night to make some Valentine's home decor:

And the scrap bird fabric from the baby quilt decided where it wants to be.

6 Degrees of Mental Separation

The high temperature today seems to be 10. That's 10 degrees Fahrenheit. Whitney, Katie, Matt -- shut up. Also, the low tonight will be 1. That's the kind of thing they tell you when they don't want you to know the truth. If we think it's 1 degree, maybe we'll be fooled into being grateful for just how warm that really is. 1. Just 1.

It's been pretty cold around here for a couple weeks, and that mostly corresponds with the kids being back in school. So, I'm starting to get a little tweaky. It's so cold, I don't want to open the curtains because I'm convinced that when I open the curtains Dick Cheney comes and sucks the heat right out of my house via the windows. Really, with his big sucker-fish mouth and everything. It's very disturbing.

So, no open curtains means no sunshine, means these walls they are a closin' in. Also, we turned off the cable. So, I go to the gym every day now. The gym has big windows with no curtains. The gym has CSI right there on my own little personal tv mounted to the machine. *Sigh* I love the gym.

Also, say hello to Fannie:

Fannie used to be named Archimedes, until I decided that she is a she, and she most likely has little squirrely babies up in that big nest in the tree in the driveway. Fannie had a habit of getting into the shed and eating bird food. That was pretty okay with us, until she started searching our stuff to pilfer it. So, I had to move the bag of seed into the house. I felt bad about it (I mean, she does have those squirrely babies to feed, and did I mention it's going to be 1 degree tonight?), so I made her a feeder out of a toilet paper tube, peanut butter, and bird seed. This photo was taken about 10 minutes after I hung it out. About 10 minutes after the photo was taken, the entire feeder was gone. Squirrelled away up the tree to those sweet squirrely babies.

Also, this all happened while the guy was here last week turning off the cable. That guy may have overheard a conversation between myself and Fannie. I may have had to explain that there was a squirrell, right there on that branch, looking at me, and that I needed to explain some things to her.

(Ps. I just read the above and it appears that I think that eating will keep Fannie warm. I might have a screwed up relationship with food)

It Takes A Sick Kid . . .

. . . To get a sick Mommy to rest. As today is the last day before Winter Break, I got out early to run errands. That came to a screeching halt when I got a call from the school that Ezra is sick. I had to pick him up early. Now he's crabby and will only rest if I lie down with him. Ah, the wisdom of the young.

Of course, today is the day that every delivery company imaginable is ringing my doorbell.

The Cat Came Back!

For those who know how heartbroken we've been for 2 1/2 months about our Loki "gone missing", he returned last night. He was wearing a collar (!), and is now morbidly obese. Obviously, somebody had taken him in and kept him in. Before he goes out again, we are going to attach a note to said collar reading "Loki is our cat for over 8 years. Please do not keep him again" with our phone number. Honestly, I'm afraid to let him out again. I missed him so much.

That picture is from one year ago. Right now he's really crabby and doesn't want us to mess with him. Though he did let Little Man pet him this morning. So, he's back, he's fat, he's crabbier than ever -- oh, and now he talks. Frequently. He used to be very quiet, but he keeps looking at us and talking now. It's weird. But it's definitely him, and we're definitely thrilled to have him back.