Poems and Flipping Out

Here's something you probably didn't know about me. I write poetry. Well... write is a loose term. I used to write poetry a lot (creative writing major, you know) and every now and again I get the itch to write some more. The great thing about poetry is that it's personal, but that's also the bad thing about it.

When I was a Junior in college, I was asked to be a part of a poetry reading that the English Department was putting on that year. Only 3 people were asked, so I was of course, giddy and honored. Also, I wanted to scream and cry with fear. Public speaking is the furthest thing in the world from my comfort zone. Like... past root canals and having no money and breaking my ankle. Way past those. I mean, I can't even tell a long story to several friends at once without becoming shivery and nervous. Seriously that happens to me. But I agreed to the reading (after much MUCH shaking and stomach twistiness,) and I'm so glad I did. I was really proud of myself after that, and still am proud of that whole thing. Proud that I was asked out of so many students, proud that I did it through the fear, and proud that I didn't pass out at the front of the room.

Sunday I went to a reunion meeting for the Haiti team. While we were there, I was asked to read a "journal page" of sorts in front of our church in a few weeks about the trip to Haiti. So, of course, I said, "no way! thank you." But after a tiny bit of thinking I remembered the poetry reading and how cool that ended up being despite the paralizing fear. So I agreed to think about it. Mind you, there are approximately 3,000 members at my church. YEAH! I KNOW! So, I go back and forth and back and forth and back and back and back and forth. Which leaves me about 2 steps back right now. I'm still thinking about it. And still getting nervous about the idea.

So, to break me a tiny bit out of my closed up box of fear, I am posting a poem at the end of this. It's very short, and it's one of the "flash poems" I've been doing lately. Basically flash poetry (as I've decided to name it) is when I open up a blank document on the computer, write, save, close. I come back to it later and try not to edit anything at all. If something's really glaringly bad, I might, but normally I leave it. Here ya go:

Of Light and Truth and Hope

I have learned a little bit
about lofty things and reality
as opposite as they are
and what I have learned is that
there are only a few things to count
on and a few things to wish for
and they are always the same things.

Haiti - Days 7 and 8

Leaving Haiti was difficult. I think if you've been reading along the past week, you'll understand why. The last two days were spent packing, visiting a local tourist area called the Baptist Mission, and saying our goodbyes. I got to go down to the Cretch and visit the children again and spend some time reflecting and getting closer with the whole team.

I am missing the bright colors everywhere, the kids and the people we met, I am missing being surrounded in the joy that the people of Haiti have, the smiles that break through the language barrier, and the purpose I felt while we were there. I just want to say thank you so much to all of you who helped us go with financial support, prayer, encouragement, and good wishes. We appreciate each of you more than we can express fully. Thank you for being a part of something that changed our lives and the lives of others. We couldn't have had this experience without you. Thanks, thanks, thanks. Mesi, Mwen renmen ou.

Haiti - Day 6

This is Canez. It is hands-down the most simultaneously beautiful and desolate place I've ever seen. As we drove through the desert over the hill and saw this view, cameras all through the bus popped out of the windows so people could capture this beauty. The lake in the picture is a salt lake, and the people of Canez fish in the lake to get money for their village. All of Canez is thorns.

The people have no shade, no fresh water, no possessions, but all the hope and joy in the world. While some of the group went to build a structure to offer shade, others were a part of a medical tent. I was included in the medical group. I'd say half of the village showed up to the medical tent.

This family was one of the many reasons I will always remember Canez. This mother brought us her baby boy because he had been sick, but during our chat with her, we found out that her 3 other children are all deaf. She asked if we could find out if her baby was deaf, too. Time stood still for me a bit at that point. I panicked, I think. I was so afraid for her in that moment. We asked one of the guys in the group to come make loud noises behind the baby to see what he responded to. As the noises started, the other kids in the village began laughing at the silliness and trying to mimic the noises. The women's deaf children sat watching us. As the baby began turning his head to the left or right to follow the noise, I started crying. I was elated that that little boy could hear. I wanted to scoop him up and kiss his little head. to shake the mom's hand, and to hug everyone standing around. I celebrated on the inside.

The people of Canez are so beautiful, so joyful, so hopeful, and so loving. I can't wait to go back to them someday.

Haiti - Days 4 and 5

Going into the blogging about Haiti, I knew days 4 and 5 would be hard to sum up. I knew that it would be hard to make it accurate to my experiences without being overly emotional and dramatic. I knew a lot of things about blogging days 4 and 5... none of which helped me figure out HOW to do it. So, let's just start with pictures.This is Judson. He lives at the Cretch, which is the orphanage for infants through children around 8 years old. Judson is the exact description of precious. He's tiny and cuddly and smiley. He's got a great snorty laugh, and he babbles in his sleep. He's 6 months old and weighs 10-11 pounds. He has a problem eating which will need to be fixed with surgery, and he changed my life. That sounds like an exaggeration, but I can't explain to you how much it is not.


During the week, several of us were paired with babies who were sick. We each got our partner and made sure they got their medicine, were fed at the same time every day, and got extra love and care. Judson was my partner. His favorite place while we were together was laying on my chest, like the picture above. If I tried to put him on my lap, or on my arms, he would wiggle and kick and scrunch his nose up until he was back on my chest.


I would sit for hours each day like that. Just holding him close to me and letting him sleep or feeding him or letting him chew on his shirt or my shirt or a bib or anything else he could reach. Being the person to care for Judson that week was absolutely the most purposeful my life has ever felt. I was needed, I was loved unconditionally, and it felt like our hearts were made to be together for those few days. I believe that his being sick at that moment and my broken ankle were planned long ago so that we would have a few days together under the banana trees at the Cretch in Haiti. That Judson specifically was put in my arms out of all the other sick babies, that our nurse Pam thought to pair people from our team with sick babies from the orphanage, and that he was as content a baby as can be. That every small detail of this trip, and his life, and my life had been orchestrated by a God who knows exactly what Judson and I need every day of our lives. That week, we needed each other.

On day 5, we were told that it would be our last day in the Cretch, and that we'd be going to a village for the next days - to say our goodbyes. I cannot remember a time in my life where saying goodbye was more difficult. I couldn't look at his face without crying. I couldn't hold his hand without imagining my life without him in it. I couldn't say goodbye. It hurt on every possible level.



Judson taught me that family doesn't have to be organic. Children within my reach need mothers. I've got enough love in my heart to share with kids who need love. He taught me that adoption is not only a great option for some people, but that it's a great option for Dave and I. Because of the love I felt for Judson, I would be able at some point in my life to have a child by adoption and know that we could love each other well. Because of the love Judson showed to me, I could confidently say that I'll never be able to turn my back to the adoption needs in the world.


I found out a few days after the trip that Judson has a home in Wisconsin. He's got a family that loves him dearly that's working right now on getting him home on a medical visa. You can read about him and his family here.

Haiti - Day 3

The third day in Haiti was Monday, and the team split up early that morning to go to their designated work areas. Because of my ankle, I was in a chair making labels for an hour or so. I could hear the children in the orphanage playing and laughing in the rooms around me. I was a bit discouraged by that, but I knew my time would come to meet the kids. I wanted to be in there playing and laughing along with them.

A few hours into the morning, Nashmie was brought to me. All those discouraged feelings shot out of the window like they'd never been there in the first place. We played and sang and babbled at each other. Luckily for me, I didn't have to figure out Creole. Baby language is all the same. Is she not precious? She was happy and smart and loved to grab at things. Like noses.

She broke me. My heart was shattered and overfull at the same time. I wanted to laugh with her and cry with her. She initiated the cracks that overcame my heart and left me with a very weary soul after a few days. But with that sadness was also hope for her future and for my future, love that will never disappear, and good life-changing questions that have still got me churning 2 weeks later. We made a good team. As terribly scripted as it may sound, I'll always have a place in my heart for Nashmie.

Haiti - Days 1 and 2

As the plane lowered to Port au Prince, I could see kites flying above the city and bright colors on buildngs and blue rooftops. Though I thought I knew otherwise, Haiti looked like a happy place. As we lowered even closer, I realized that the blue rooftops I was seeing were actually tents. Tent cities were covering so much area. Much more than I had expected. We hadn't even landed the plane and I could feel Haiti already making its way into my heart.

The Port au Prince airport was affected by the earthquake, so baggage claim, customs, and everything else we experienced the first minutes in Haiti was held in this hanger. It was hot and crowded, but I was stuck in a wheel chair the whole time. There was a Haitian man working at the airport who wheeled me off the plane, through customs, down the street to our ride, and even found my luggage for me. Best customer service of all time. He was awesome.

As we rode from the airport to Bethel Guest House, where we were staying, we got our first real views of the destruction. There was so much to take in, as someone who had never been to a place like this before, every tiny thing was a new experience. I wanted to be able to walk around in the city and meet the people and smell the market and learn whatever else Haiti had to teach.

Driving through the city, one of the trip leaders brought to our attention that most of the collapsed buildings probably still had bodies in them. They have neither the equipment or the people to get in and get the people out who were trapped in January. I couldn't stop thinking of that every time we drove past a building like this one below.

Sunday morning we went to church. Easter Sunday in Haiti was really cool. Even though I couldn't speak Creole or understand much of it, (I could understand bits and pieces thanks to my years in French class) it was moving. Watching the kids playing in the aisles was hilarious. They were so interested in my boot and my crutches, which was a great way for me to get to meet some of them. A few of them were actually afraid of me because of the crutches... which was hard for me to deal with. I wanted to explain to them what had happened.

One boy I met at Bethel Guest House had been dropped off at the orphanage after the earthquake, and he was especially nervous about the boot. I'm not sure he came within 20 feet of me the whole time I was there. He would look at it and make a wide loop around me. His name is Junior.

Sunday after church we ate lunch and then headed to the orphanage for older kids. They're ages 8-21. We met a girl named Carmen who is 14. Her favorite color is pink and she likes romantic movies. We met a girl named Stephanie who was 19. She wants to move to Lousiville, KY to go to school for public relations or broadcasting. This is where she sleeps every night.

At the end of the day Sunday, my foot was swollen and sore and physically I was just completely worn out. But I was excited. I was excited to meet the babies the next day, to engulf myself in Haitian culture, and to be used in any way I could in the next week.

Unpacking

There is a lot of emotional unpacking that needs to be done in the wake of my trip to Haiti. I've never experienced anything like this trip and I just haven't been able to wrap my head around it quite yet. Because I'm somewhat at a loss for words, I'll just put up a few picutres with quick captions. I promise that in the next few days I will post much MUCH more.

This is baby Nashmie who initiated the cracking in my heart. First baby I held at the orphanage.

These 3 boys needed lots of love, and we had much to give.

In this picture you can see a small portion of the earthquake destruction. This is Port au Prince.

One of the thousands of tent cities.

And We're Off

This time tomorrow we'll be in Haiti. That's weird to think about. It hasn't really hit me yet, and I'm not sure it will hit me until we're there. But we're in the midst of packing our bags, and we still haven't thought about what we're eating for dinner, and we haven't exactly planned out anything beyond the next ten seconds actually.

But this time tomorrow we'll be in Haiti.

Updates and hopefully lots of pictures in a week or so.

Face First in the Parking Lot

In an interesting turn of events, I am on my back on the couch instead of sitting at my desk today. Friday evening I took a really wrong step in a parking lot and ended up here on the couch. As I was falling, I felt each awful movement inside of my right ankle and thought, "this is broken" as I hit the ground. Turns out, I was right! There's a chip fracture as well as a sprain on the right ankle and some soreness and bruising on the left ankle.

I'm currently attempting to figure out crutches, which I'm pretty sure will kill me. I have fallen a couple times since the injury because, well, I'm super duper clumsy and have no sense of balance. You know how if you're hopping around on one foot and you start to fall, you kind of catch yourself with the other foot? Well that's not a great idea when that foot is having issues.

The biggest problem right now, aside from my growing fear of leaving the house, my painful and swollen foot, and the crutches sitting next to the couch, is that I'm supposed to leave the country in 5 days. I'm not sure how long it will be before I can put weight on it, but right now the thought of hopping around in a country where there is rubble all over the ground, and who knows what else - is kind of terrifying. I believe that God has a purpose in all things... so this injury must fit into that category. It must, it must, it must...

Dear Journal

Brand new springy products in the Etsy shop, friends! These sweet little books are totally blank, so they can be used for all sorts of things. I made one for my friend Jackson's 4th birthday, so he could practice writing stories and working on his letters (which he is so good at, I may add.) It was a hit, thankfully. I have one that I'm using as a journal, but they can also be used for scrapbooks, freestyle coloring books, sketchbooks... pretty much whatever you want. Check out my shop if you're interested in purchasing one. They're just super cute, if you ask me, and even if you don't journal or sketch or scrapbook (why is that a verb?), they're cute just sitting on a shelf! That's what they're doing in my house, at least, and I think it's cute. I may be a tad partial.

Hope and Timing

Let me start by saying I wasn’t sure this would ever make it to the blog. It’s just not the type of thing one goes shooting off to strangers about, but the past few weeks have been nothing if not a lesson in opening up and trusting. Even sometimes to strangers. So bear with me, please as I share a little more than you may expect.

There is something in me that has ALWAYS wanted to be a mom. I’m not sure if it was the big sister in me that just needed someone to take care of, or if I was just born to nurture. But I have, for as long as I can remember, wanted so much to be a mother. In elementary school when asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, I said without hesitation, “a mommy.” And I meant it from the bottom of my teeny heart.

Now, as a woman who has no children of her own, who is surrounded by hoards of pregnant woman and newborn babies, and has this strong natural inclination to be a mom, I have a lot of hurt. Hurt for women in the same position as I, hurt for myself for not having a child yet, hurt for my husband for being forced to trek over these same fears and wants over and over with me, and then more hurt for myself again. I go through periods of time where I’m fine with not having children yet. I can handle it, I can enjoy my life as a wife and as a free-to-do-what-I-like woman, and I have faith that “it will happen when it happens” as so many people say. But other times… I cannot handle it, I can’t enjoy my life without children, and I assume it will never happen for me.

Dave and I have been trying to get pregnant for a while now. Long enough that I have grown concerned, but not so long that I’ve seen a doctor. We’ve got time. I know that. And kind, thoughtful people keep reminding me of that. But I’m still here waiting and hurting.
Sunday afternoon in the car on my way to a meeting about our trip to Haiti, I was stressed beyond measure with planning and worry and financial concerns and being late and I just wanted to crawl back into bed and forget that the day had ever begun. But it had, and I was in the middle of it. So I just took care of things as they came. I wasn’t thinking about “my trip to Haiti” at all, I was thinking about the heat of the room, the stress I was under, the tasks ahead. I sat down at the end of a long black table in an office surrounded by the 30 other people who are heading to Haiti with me. Slides were flicking past, one after the other, depicting the children I’m going to meet in just 2 weeks. The babies. The babies that want so very much to have mothers, but don’t. The babies who live 24 hours a day in white rooms full of cribs because the last home they had crumbled to bits in a natural disaster, and the home before that was crumbling in a completely different way. The babies who need me to hold them, and feed them, and love them. And maybe I needed that too. I was filled with such an overwhelming hurt again. Not that I didn’t have my own baby to hold, but that these babies didn’t have their mothers to hold them, and how much worse that must be.

I’m not saying that being a childless mother isn’t hard. I’m not saying that it’s not important, because it is so hard and so important. But being a motherless child… I cannot even imagine. And through my hurt, I was also filled with fear. What if I can’t help these kids they way they need to be helped, what if I decide I want to adopt them – we can’t afford that, what if my heart is softening to adoption because I will not ever conceive a child, what if, what if, what if. And more slides ticked past. And more fears ticked past. And more smiles, and more cribs, and more tiny hands and feet, and more opportunities for me to let go of my stress and my fears and remember why I’m going on this trip in the first place. People are hurting everywhere. If I can make a difference in that world of hurt, I am certainly going to try. That may mean being uncomfortable, and being punched in the gut with others’ hurts, but maybe God’s timing and His compassion is so much greater than mine.

25 Things That Make Me Smile #3

I'm a teensy bit overdue for my twice-a-year 25 Things list... and this week needs to be when that it posted. I need a little thankfulness and smiling up in here. Here we go!


25 Things that make me smile right now:

1. What I have been calling "flash poetry." Which is kind of exactly what it sounds like. A very quick poem written without much thought and no editing. It's theraputic and I'm loving it. The process and the outcomes. These poems are actually decent!
2. The band Mumford and Sons
3. Google Analytics. I'm watching you.
4. Hints of warmer weather
5. Laughing with friends. CHEESEFEST, I know. But really, what could be better to do with friends?
6. Light
7. Truth
8. Hope (These three are NOT no brainer smile points that I'm using as filler. They are things I'm working very hard to be thinking about several times a day right now. Light, truth, hope. Light, truth, hope. It feels good, doesn't it?)
9. The multitude of newborns around me and the snuggling they are so happy to share
10. FOOD NETWORK. I could watch it all day
11. Weekends. oh weekends. Although, I admit, that is sort of just a sneaky way to say something I'm not all smiles about... so I'll do 26 things.
12. Knowing I am about to meet 70 kids who will change my life
13. My mentor, Katie
14. Embroidery - one needle and thread project that doesn't make me pull my hair out
15. A brand new paper craft project
16. This song
17. Giant families. Our church is full of huge families with 6 or more kids. I love watching them.
18. 4 hour naps after very long and difficult weeks
19. Spending Easter morning in a Haitian church
20. Can I say light, truth, and hope again?
21. Catching up on piles of work
22. Both of the fall weddings coming up. Almost time for a new sister and new brother!
23. Sidewalk chalk and bubbles in the culdesac
24. Corned beef and cabbage. Yeah, I'm as shocked as you are that I like it. But I do... I really do.
25. Finally going on a date with Dave tonight. Since we both ruined the prospects of dates last weekend. Yes, Dave... both of us. :)
26. Finally seeing the sun this week after far, FAR too much gray sky.

What's got you smiling?

Donations Accepted

The trip to Haiti is closing in on us. We've got 18 days until we fly out of Nashville and into Port au Prince. We've got our praying hats on big time right now as we're counting down the days. Days until our passports are supposed to arrive in the mail, days until we have a "packing party" at the mission organization's Nashville headquarters, days until our money is due, and days until we meet the kids we want to help.

Someone asked if I had a PayPal account they could make donations to, and though I did have a PayPal account, I was clueless as to how to accept donations through it. With a little help from the automated Help Desk lady I figured it out. If you'd like to make a donation through PayPal, here is the link to do so.

Donate to Dave and Steph's Trip to Haiti!

Thanks so much for your support, guys. We appreciate it so very much.

Pink and Spring and Other Things

This weekend was kind of a strange one. As in, I threw multiple temper tantrums, we skipped several "dates" that we had planned, and instead watched copious amounts of TV and had chips and salsa for lunch.

This weekend did have a couple of redeeming qualities, though. For example, new clothes. Some of you may know this about me: I am addicted to buying things. I don't spend a lot of money normally. Almost all of my clothing was less than $10 at the time of purchase. And only then if it's on sale. I have many, many items that were $5 or less. Thank heavens for Old Navy's clearance rack where one can buy such things as purple velvet pleated skirts for NINETY-SEVEN CENTS! And let's just pause to say, "Isn't that impressive?" Because that really deserves an "isn't that impressive," in my opinion. Ignore the fact that I have no occasion to wear a purple velvet pleated skirt and have never worn it, not even once for pretend.

About three years ago I bought a black and white paisleyish batik looking dress. It fit like a dream. Which is saying a lot. It was $7, so I bought it. Three years later, I decided that I should probably wear that dress since it fit so well, but I still was not a fan of the black and white paisleyish batik print. So, I bleached it. Three times. And it turned kind of orange and white. Which still wasn't great. So I got some pink and purple RIT dye, mixed it together, and dyed the dress. That still wasn't quite right, so I washed it in a load with a bright red rug that bleeds everytime it's washed. The dress now works. It's pinkish/coraly colored with tiny purpley/pink paisley, and I love it!

Plus, I made a fun "circus skirt," as I'm calling it (because it's very colorful and striped, and tent-shaped) out of a 1970's Sears and Reobuck fitted sheet. And since I have a reputation to uphold of being terrible at sewing, I messed it up just for you! But, thankfully, Lillian did some quick thinking and we turned said mess-up into a ruffle at the bottom, and what do you know, I like it better with a ruffle!

My new spring wardrobe is the ruffle on the mess-up that was this weekend.

The Itch

I have to get some artwork done as soon as possible. I'm having one of those, "I can't breathe in normal society" weeks and I just need to create something. The "norm" gets old and not quite exciting enough for me, and I have to start something new.

There's something about being an artist, for me, that means I get a little crazy at the start of something new. New opportunities, new seasons, new clothes - whatever it is that is new - I'm inspired and excited by it and itching to make progress. One newish thing in my life is THIS little surprise that I mentioned a few weeks ago. I LOVE IT. I so hope you do too.

Information About Our Trip

To view this letter, just click below. It should expand.

Whirlwind, to say the least

Today is a big day. A very, very big day in a series of even bigger days.

Today we decided to go to Haiti. Monday night we found out about a trip that was leaving from Nashville April 3rd, and that the group heading out was short a few members. Enter, Dave and Steph. We quickly "discussed" the way two non-talkers can discuss things and realized that this trip may be a really good thing for us.

Skip to Wednesday morning... and it's a go! We will leave ONE MONTH from today on a week-long trip. We still are very unsure of a lot of the details and we're hoping to get some more information tonight when we drop off our applications and deposits.

What we do know is that we're going to have to be open to the opportunities that will be presented, we will be working to rebuild where we can, and that we will be working with orphans. If you've ever met me, you KNOW that I'm a little bit nuts about kids. My heart is for kids at. all. times. I know that being around these children who need so much love and attention will be the hardest part of the whole trip. Raising $4,000 in a month, taking off 5 days of work for me and 7 days (unpaid) of work for Dave, getting 2 passports expidited, and going overseas for the very first time in our lives will all be nothing compared to the number of pieces my heart will surely break into when I meet these Haitain children.

I will keep everyone posted as best I can in the coming month. If you're the praying type, please send a few up for us!

She's Here!

Little Madeline Rose is finally here! We went to see her and her mama in the hospital on Friday and love on them and bring them little presents. My goodness is she cute! I think I'd like to keep her.

I Still Have the Chills

This is a long post. But, you need to know this information. Bear with me and please, read on.

Dave and I are house sitting. In the wilderness. It's a beautiful home nestled in the woods - absolutely amazing place. We've stayed there many times since Dave and the owner have worked together quite a bit since we moved to Nashville, and he trusts us to take care of his horses, his dog, Puzzles, and property. We love to stay out there.

Here's where it gets interesting. And let me also warn you that the Tuesday story is a bit yucky, and you may want to skip it if you're not really into yucky.

Monday: first day we were out there. We were so tired Monday night that we instantly went to bed when we got there and luckily I hadn't remembered THIS whole thing about the last time we stayed.

Tuesday: we noticed a smell right away that was, to put it delicately, naaahas-tay. It smelled like rotting fish, a smell we know well having grown up by a lake. We discovered what appeared to be a fully digested dead animal that had been "pooed" out by Puzzles in the shower. Dave and I were understanding and compassionate towards Puzzles and actually not angry, because as I put it Tuesday night, "Poor Puzzles. That really looked like emergency poo." And who can blame a dog for emergency poo?

Wednesday: so so tired. I decided to take a much needed nap after work. I curled up in bed and heard Puzzles playing upstairs. I had never seen Puzzles go upstairs before, so I thought it was pretty unusual, but not a big deal, so I fell right to sleep. Wednesday night Dave and I were talking in the living room and I was telling him about Puzzles playing upstairs and we looked over the stairs and noticed that the BEDROOM DOOR WAS CLOSED! Puzzles can.not. open doors, or even shut them... she can't do that. Whatever was up there 1. got in somehow, through a hole in the house? That's still there? For other animals to climb into? 2. Either figured its way back out of the house or 3. IS STILL UP THERE. 4. I'm still creeped out.

So, I was already a bit on edge Wednesday night and then we heard more Puzzles activity just next to my side of the bed in the master bedroom. "Weird," I said, "I didn't even hear Puzzles come back in here." DUHM DUHM DUUUUHMM. We turned on the light, and sweet little fuzzy Puzzles was nowhere to be seen. So... what the heck was that noise? And what the heck were those subsequent noises in the wall, the closet, and the ceiling?

Thursday: oh man. Thursday. Dave and I were discussing the strange noises (read I was freaking out and Dave was doing his best to calm me down) and I decided to investigate. Keep in mind, I'm not the investigatory type. I like to keep myself away far from whatever it is I don't know about. I would like to continue to be, at all times, left in the dark, singing my rainbows and sprinkles tunes and whistling sparkles.

Speaking of dark - earlier that night, Dave thought it would be really fun to sneak up on me in the dark kitchen at 9:30 at night. It wasn't really fun. I was a mess after that. And back to "after that..."

There I went to break out of my comfort zone and check things out for myself. I opened the closet door. Mistake number one. I found a giant, hairy, scare-the-hoo-haw-out-of-me, monster. It was all squatty in the back corner of the closet, waiting to jump out at me and drag my terrified body up into the wall forever and keep me as a slave. Turns out, it was a 3 feet tall spool of white and gray wool that had not been spun yet. Mistake number two: who the heck keeps a spool of unspun wool in their closet?! I climbed back into bed and pretended that the last three days had not happened.

Today: Dave's parents are coming to visit us this weekend. I think I'll let them stay in the master bedroom.

Accomplishment Feels Good

Craftacular was a smashing success! I didn't take many pictures at all. Two of the women there are professional photographers and while I love them dearly, they intimidate the heck out of me when it comes to my completely lacking photo skills. I met some really great people, had some really great food, and finished so many projects. Not quite the 15 - 20 I had in mind, but still... lots of things. Although I have to bug Mr. Hagen to take some more pictures of the other things I completed, I did snap a few pictures while I was there.

I finished: 8 paintings, 1 headband, 2 sewing projects, and 2 journals. As I said the other day, "take that old, never-finish-a-darn-thing Steph."

These paintings will go up on the wall someday. As in... the day I finish the 9 pillow covers I want to sew, clean my house, and make the felt chandelier I've been dreaming up for a few months.

I have a disease in which every sewing project I attempt causes me to think terrible, terrible things about fabric and thread and needles, and everything I touch turns into a puddle of disaster and sadness. That being said, this apron I made turned out pretty well. I made a dishrag that matches and hooks on two little loops by that ruffly pocket you see, which I admit, did make me think some pretty awful things about jersey knit.