Two prayer shawls given today

I'm giving two prayer shawls today at church. The light blue one was like knitting a Muppet. It's a novelty yarn that is very hard to work with, but makes a thick, dense fabric. It's an eyelash type yarn, which means the body of the yarn is a very thin chain-stitched thread with fuzzy stuff attached to it to make it very bulky. The fuzzy stuff is like blue eyelashes caught up in the thread.

The second one, which is multicolored in shades of the ocean, is perhaps my favorite thus far. It's a scalloped lace called fish-tail lace. (Notice the watery theme going here?)

I made both of these specifically for the recipients, who are both on staff at my church.

Because I wanted to get them finished in time to present during first service this morning, I didn't get to bed until 5:30 a.m. and then got up again at 7 a.m. Dazed and confused? Yes, even more than usual. I'll be going to sleep as soon as I get home from church after second service, probably about 12:20 p.m. or so. For now, I must run.

A more casual summer outfit

Sometimes in the spring, PDAs just want something cute to wear. It's a shame the battery on mine is dead. She would have loved this because it fits her so well.

Sometimes a girl just needs a new dress!

If one Palm dress is good, two has to be twice as good, right? This one is a little less refined, made in a bulkier yarn called "Red Sprinkles" (note the little color dots mixed in.) The flap on this one is a full-length, full width cover fastened with a gold button.

Today's creative exercise

Doesn't everyone need a hand-knitted cover for their Palm? This is a prototype which was requested as a commissioned job. I'd make some changes, but for making up the pattern as I went, I'm pretty happy with it.

This isn't the yarn I bought last weekend. I had this in my stash. This is also a deeper wine color than the photo shows. For some reason wine is a hard color to capture digitally.



When I work out the bugs in the row with the buttonhole, I'll be able to do all kinds of small accessory pouches and bags. I'm pretty pleased with it, overall. It has a lace edge on the flap and a silver button closure.

Beware the badgering Mama Bird!

First she squawked at me from above. Every step I took was shadowed by her hopping among the branches, maintaining a position directly above my head. The longer I walked through the yard, the louder, more persistant and more rapid were her noises.

I glanced up and saw a certain, determined, hate-filled stare coming from the black Mama Bird.




This was Saturday afternoon and Mama Bird was guarding a fledgling baby who was on the ground, hiding in the garden, testing out its wings and trying to fly.

I was washing the porch furniture, taking off the winter's layer of dust that was thick enough to show cat's paw prints. Silently a neighborhood pup had slipped up behind me. I think it was at least part shar-pei, but it was not terribly wrinkly. My instincts told me his persistence was probably a result of the baby bird being nearby. I hadn't seen the baby bird but knew Mama Bird's noise indicated he was nearby.

Several times I shooed the dog away, finally having to clap my hands to get the attention of the man across the street. Apparently he was the dog's owner and called him home.

So I started investigating to see if I could tell where the baby was. This one seems to have a knack for getting tangled in my rose bush, which seems like it would be very painful. Finally I located him when he flopped his wings.

I caught an unflattering shot of him finally on the porch. He's right there at the corner behind the hose.


Today it has been quiet outside when I've opened the door. No flapping. No Mama Bird noise. I hope this means baby has gotten the knack of it and has flown away from my front door.

Unfortunately, as I was going out for a few minutes this evening, I spotted another bird in the yard, dead. It was one of the neighborhood doves. It was positioned as though it had flown beak-first into the ground, kind of like it was pecking for worms. I don't know what happened and I was too creeped out to go look at it very closely.

My yard is a dangerous place for birds, it seems.

Breathe and let it happen

Lately I've been pondering the concept of creativity in our everyday lives.

So often we are blind to the fact that virtually every thing we do every day is an expression of our creativity. The tasks have become mundane -- routine. But think about every little household chore, for a moment, as a creative act. How you make your bed is an act of artistry. It expresses the way you think of your personal sanctuary. Whether you smoothe the bedding, fluff the pillows, or just get up and walk away from it, your bed is the one place you know is YOURS. (Thinking about this has caused me to be more diligent about actually making my bed as an act of personal kindness for myself!)

Washing dishes is a sensual expression as well. The hot water, mixed with the detergent, is a nurturing environment that creates order from chaos. As much as I rebelled against being the family dishwasher all the years I was growing up, I've since come to appreciate that calming ritual. Just a few minutes of scrubbing, rinsing and wiping put things right again every evening. It propelled the rhythm of life forward and marked an end to the outside day and the beginning of the inside night at home.

And so it is with the daily chores. But few of us think of those things as "creative". Instead, we use that word when we talk about "making things" or "writing books."

And so I would refer all of you to a post on one of my new favorite blogs, Posie Gets Cozy. The author, Alicia, is an icon of my dream life. She lives in Portland, Ore., and makes beautiful things which she sells online and in a shop there. Beautiful things, like aprons (and y'all know how I loves me some aprons!)

In this post, she quotes Annie Dillard about the process of writing. Go and read it. It will be the best use of your next few minutes, trust me. And when you finish, GO DO IT! (OK, OK. Spend some time investigating her blog first. It's well worth it just for the beauty of it.)


Posie Gets Cozy

2006 Fiber Rendezvous

No, no, no, not the kind of fiber that makes you regular! This was a festival of the kind of fiber that creates beautiful fabric. The kind from an animal's fleece!

This was a festival held at Fort Braxton, next door to Hillbilly's Cafe and Bed & Breakfast. It's across Highway 66 from the Round Barn in Arcadia. It was the perfect location for this experience.




























There were alpacas there -- a 2-year-old brown one (obviously going through puberty...) and two of his herd mates. One is all white, with blue eyes. He is deaf. He's been neutered to stop the genetic anomoly. He's a great fleece animal.











































































There was also a baby lamb that the kids loved.



























Lots of pretty yarns, rovings, fabrics and buttons.































































































































































There were lots of demonstrations showing how fiber comes from the animal, is carded, washed, dyed, spun and then woven, knitted or crocheted. The kids even were able to try out several techniques.








































































































































































































































































































































































I had a blast and even came back home with my own addition to the yarn stash, purchased at a true bargain price. I picked up 11 balls of Phildar Pegase 206 for less than $2 a ball. That was the posted price, but it was the end of the day and I had $16 in my pocket. The vendor let me take the whole bag for that and then we counted and discovered there were 11 balls. She was happy and I was thrilled! It's a little more of a mulberry wine color than the photo shows; a little darker than it looks here.

Creative pursuits

I've been away from my blog for several days because I've been busy with other things. Friday night I had a dinner for my singles group, so I was cooking and cleaning for that. Dinner was supposed to start at 7 p.m., at least for gathering and visiting. My friends are not punctual people, as I warned a man from church who had invited a couple of people to attend. My newcomers were there at 5 til 7. Ohhhhhh boyyyyy! I felt bad, unable to stop and visit with them since I was in the thick of final preparations of the food. I did offer them some tea and invited them to sit and visit in the living room while I finished up, hoping someone else would quickly join us and help with hospitality.

Next person to arrive was the associate pastor of my church. Unfortunately, that was about a half hour later, because her car was rear-ended by a massive utility truck at the major intersection near my house. Uh-oh. That will put a damper on an evening every time! But it did give the three of them something to talk about while I was desperately dodging raindrops as I finished grilling pork tenderloins outside. Agh!

Two more guests arrived -- at 8 p.m. One of my best friends and a friend of hers, whom I had not met. OK, let's tally the score: 6 people at my house for dinner, three of them strangers.

We enjoyed our meal and had a good conversation talking about jobs -- current job woes, most difficult or unusual jobs we've had -- and Famous People We Have Met.

One had met the actor who played Steppin' Fetchit when he was an old man on disability in Chicago. He never received any royalties from his film work and was impoverished. A sad commentary on our past.

A couple of my friends are accomplished musicians who have had great encounters. One had performed with Mason Williams and Vince Gill. Her fiance (who arrived at 9 p.m. and who I promptly forced to sit and eat) has played at the Grand Ol' Opry, on the Today Show on NBC (noting that he really liked Al Roker), had played with Tommy Newsom (of the Tonight Show band under Johnny Carson) and has had two tours with his band in Germany, where they are a pop favorite like David Hasselhoff.

My claim to fame for the discussion was receiving a Tiffany vase from Doc Severinsen as a wedding present many long years ago. He was a close friend of my former father-in-law.

It's a fun discussion and ice breaker. One of the newcomers relayed stories of his great-grandfather's escape from Hungary during World War I. He hopped a train and managed to get passage on a steamer to Canada. Later he entered the U.S. through Minnesota.

We talked until after midnight when the yawns finally took over and everyone gingerly headed for their cars through the rain. I stood on the porch for a while waving goodnight, smelling the rain and listening to the sounds of the night.

Saturday I slept until 4 p.m. Even when I accepted that's what the clock said, I couldn't get my bearings. I didn't know what day it was, even. I stayed up a few hours before going back to bed.

Sunday morning I had to be at church at 7:45 because my handbell choir was playing for both services. It's a rather acrobatic undertaking which is simply exhausting, in a good way. Most of the exercise comes from setting up the tables and trying to negotiate a place to stand and another place to sit in a very, very overcrowded choir loft. I hope some of the logistical problems will be solved in an upcoming building program which will include a redesign of the sanctuary.

Also on Sunday we had another dedication of prayer shawls. Two of mine were given, one to a man facing surgery today and another to a child with pneumonia. Here are some photos of what I've been working on:








Purple heather prayer shawl.
















Closeup of fringe











I've also finished this baby blanket, which I started in 1979 when my childhood friend was expecting her first child. Um, when I found it in the closet stash this week, I realized just how large it was already, and decided it was time to finish it off. So I knitted three rows of garter stitch and bound it off -- it took me, oh, an hour... This is without question my longest unfinished project ever. And I've been knitting for 40 years (ohmygod) .




























It was one of the first lacy patterns I ever learned to knit. Here's a closeup of the detail -- it's a chevron design.



























I have another special lace project under way right now. I can't wait to finish it and show it to you. I'm making it for a particular friend and I don't want to spoil the surprise -- it's someone at my church who has requested one of my pieces. I hope she will like it.

On my mind

Today is May 1, the date of the immigrant boycott. I am surprised my blogging circle has been mostly silent on this issue. Emotions, on the aggregate, have been pretty raw and high. The economic impact, as well as the human impact, is huge.

Did it help or hurt to hear an immigrants' version of the Star Spangled Banner? I have to admit to a moment of irony -- the first time I heard this rendition, I was in line at the drive-thru at Taco Mayo, where my (inauthentic) Mexican food was passed to me by a red-haired girl covered in freckles. Mmmm, is that my brain twisting?

I've had a hard time finding the translation of "Our Anthem," as the rendition is called. I understand there's a version due out in June with spoken inserts which absolutely will spark controversy and probably incite even more hostility in some areas.

Where do I stand? I'm still figuring it out. Illegal immigration from Mexico has been a hot-button issue for years. But it feels like things mushroomed very quickly with today's rallies across the U.S.

As I've been pondering this, a couple of things have come to mind. First, almost everyone here came from someplace else. Even those of us with white skin and freckles came here (our ancestors, that is) while this land was inhabited by someone else. I don't know what the native population's immigration policy was but I think they may have felt like they got the short end of the stick when the great-ancestors traded smallpox blankets for land. Anyway, to get back on track -- nearly all of us came from someplace else.

Yes, there are legal ways of entering this country and doing things the right way. But I have to wonder and think and pray about why it is so many people are risking everything to cross the border to come here. And why do we send mission teams to Mexico on spring break to try to build shelters and clean water supplies? I think there's a connection, don't you? People are starving and dying across the river.

Twice today I was in businesses where I discussed with the owners the impact of today's boycotts. I didn't bring it up either time. I was simply waiting for things to be done to my car when they brought up the topic. In both cases, the business owners were white men who were sympathetic to today's rallies.

"I wouldn't have blamed my guys if they had taken today off to rally," the muffler shop owner said. "I can't get any white guys in here to work because they're too lazy and they don't want to do things the way I tell them. These guys I hire are illegals, but they do good work and they treat my customers the way I want to be treated myself. But on the other hand, you can imagine what would happen if they hadn't been here working today. I'd have had to close the shop. And where would you be if I wasn't open to work on your car?"

Most of the rallies in my city were held after normal business and school hours, which I think added to the number of people who were able to participate. Restaurants and other Mexican-owned businesses did close, however.

Also in my thoughts on the topic: We could solve this whole issue by annexing Mexico. Take down the fence. Take over Mexico's resources and assets. Split up the country into new states. Find a way to combine our economies for the betterment of everyone.

If we want peace, we have to work for justice. Annexing Mexico is a flippant thought, I admit. But we can't keep pretending we're upset about starving people entering our country, when we rely on them to be such a big part of our economy.

Make them citizens, and then our gardeners and roofers and construction workers and muffler shop employees will be contributing to OUR national economy. Pretend offense contributes nothing to solving any problems.

****

In other thoughts:

I'm also more than a little surprised that my blog world has been largely silent on the issue of the genocide taking place in Darfur. How can we turn a blind eye to what's going on there? As a nation we need to step in immediately to stop the massacres. Thousands of Americans are rallying to stop the killings. Hundreds of thousands of people have died there in the past three years!

It is shameful that this issue is coming to the public's attention through the entertainment world. If that's what it takes, I'm glad that the likes of Oprah Winfrey, George Clooney and NBC's "E.R." are raising awareness. But really, how sad is it that we depend on those channels to let us know about this modern Holocaust?

Bush has met with seven Darfur activists who are asking for a special envoy to the region. And finally, he has shown some receptivity to that idea.

It's only taken three years to notice?

Another meme

Since offerings on the blogs has been a little sparse lately, and lists and memes are easy, here's a meme for all of you out there. Copy and paste it in the comments here,then add it to your own blog.

Place an X by all the things you've done. This is for your entire life:
( ) Smoked a cigarette
(x) Drank so much you threw up
( ) Crashed a friend's car
( ) Stolen a car
(x) Been in love
(x) Been dumped
( ) Shoplifted
( ) Been laid off/fired
(x) Quit your job
(x) Been in a fist fight
( ) Snuck out of your parent's house
(x) Had feelings for someone who didn't have them back
( ) Been arrested
(x) Gone on a blind date
( ) Lied to a friend
( ) Skipped school
(x) Seen someone die
(x) Been to Canada
( ) Been to Mexico
(x) Been on a plane
( ) Been lost
(x) Been on the opposite side of the country. (i live in nebraska, an yes, i've been to both sides)
(x) Swam in the ocean
(x)Felt like dying
(x) Cried yourself to sleep
(x) Played cops and robbers
(x) Recently colored
(x) Done something you told yourself you wouldn't
(x) Made prank phone calls
(x) Laughed until some kind of beverage came out of your nose
(x) Caught a snowflake on your tongue
(x) Danced in the rain
(x) Written a letter to Santa Claus
(x) Been kissed under the mistletoe
(x) Watched the sun rise with someone you care about
(x) Blown bubbles
(x) Made a bonfire on the beach
( ) Crashed a party
(x) Gone roller-skating
(x) Ice-skating

It's tornado season

What an amazing age we live in! I was just able to watch a tornado form at El Reno and then follow it as it wiped out a couple of hangars at the municipal airport. There seemed to be a couple of other tornadoes form and die out in the same area. Now they are reporting the formation of another in that area and another forming up near Stillwater, a university town in the north central area of the state.

Lots of softball-size hail, which I suspect will cause more damage than the tornadoes. So far, (crossing fingers) these are smallish tornadoes. You'll forgive us if we remain a little gunshy since 1999. Lots of lightning showing now underneath those heavy clouds.

The current line of tornadoes that started over by El Reno are expected to be in my neighborhood in about 40 minutes, but the system is moving very slowly. Lots of ragged clouds. If these hold together long enough to get here, there could be more dollar damage. The area currently affected has always been open land, but there are a lot of new housing developments going in that vicinity (homes in the $250,000 to $350,000 and up range.)

The hair on my arms is already standing up. I don't expect to be hit, but I'm taking my precautions -- shutting down the electronics and keeping a watchful eye on the TV as I watch it come down the major interstate nearest me. The camera is at the ready. Thunder just started rolling over me. Sinuses closing up from pressure changes.

Ah, Oklahoma! Y'all stay safe, y'hear?

P.S., I am SO happy I did not make a business trip today. I would be driving blind back through this stuff right about now had I gone.

It's been such an exciting weekend

Here's what I did this weekend. Most of this was done Saturday, and I slept a LOT on Sunday. I even missed church this week because I woke up after 11 a.m. Slept right through the Sunday morning radio programming on my alarm.

1. Unloaded dishwasher
2. Ate lunch
3. Reloaded dishwasher
4. Cleaned off living room sofa
5. Hung up clothes
6. Picked up music off floor
7. Put newspapers in sack and took to car to recycle at church
8. Washing white crepe fabric (again)
9. Cleared out plaid club chair
a. Hung up coats
b. Re-sacked yarn stash
c. Put mail on tray on writing desk
10. Cleaned off coffee table and dusted it.
11. Cleaned off leather chair
a. Folded towels
b. Hung up winter sweaters
c. Folded and put away underwear
d. Got clean sheets and quilt ready to put on bed
12. Lit candle in living room.
13. Stripped bed and remade. Yay!
14. Handwashed some dishes, including stoneware.
15. Moved furniture out and vacuumed
16. Washed inside of picture window
17. Cleaned window sill.

Sunday
18. Laundry

As part of these tasks I did some of the winter/summer closet flip-flop. Oh, and I did actually take a shower when I woke up today. That was the most strenuous activity of my day.

Isn't it sad that I don't have something better to put on my list than "folded and put away underwear?" And nothing better to do tonight than to tell you about it? Ah, well. If your life was better, you probably wouldn't be reading my blog, right?

100 Things About Me

1. I have lived in Oklahoma all my life.
2. I spent two months in New York in 1984 on a fellowship at United Features Syndicate.
3. While I was in New York, I serialized a book written by Shari Lewis.
4. I also wrote a section of the 1985 World Almanac.
5. I was able to leave my hometown because I got scholarships to go to the University of Oklahoma.
6. I was raised by atheists. Well, my dad was an atheist. My mom went along with it even though she had belonged to the Christian Church.
7. My brother was mentally retarded and physically handicapped because of cerebral palsy.
8. In 6th grade I beat the daylights out of a much larger girl who made a horrible remark about my brother.
9. I spent many hours as a child sitting in a cedar tree reading a book.
10. I made good grades in school.
11. All of my college tuition was paid through scholarships.
12. I have been held hostage while I worked for the Department of Human Services.
13. When I worked for the Oklahoma State Department of Health, I had to take photographs in a 5-mile area around the Gore, OK, Kerr-McGee facility after a release of uranium hexafluoride.
14. After taking the photographs, the radiation detector sounded when I was scanned. It was operator error, but I nearly fainted.
15. I have no surviving family members from my nuclear family (haha – family of origin, I mean.)
16. I became a Christian when I was 17.
17. I belong to a United Methodist church.
18. I love to travel.
19. I have walked alone at night in Switzerland.
20. I have walked through the financial district of New York alone on a Sunday.
21. I spent two weeks in Washington, D.C. in 1985.
22. My father called me fat when I was in high school. I weighed 118 pounds.
23. I have had a weight problem since I graduated from college.
24. I got a sewing machine for Christmas when I was 12.
25. I made all of my own clothes from the time I was 12 until I was in my 20s.
26. I made all of my mother’s clothes during that time period.
27. I learned to drive a stick shift as soon as I got my driver’s license.
28. The first time my father rode in the car with me, I rolled backwards on a hill into a Cadillac.
29. I got my first piano when I was 4 – a player piano.
30. My piano lessons started when I was 10, until I was 17.
31. I took lessons again as an adult.
32. I love photography.
33. I have revived my interest in knitting.
34. I have high blood pressure.
35. I have worked as a nanny.
36. I earn less than the 2006 HHS Poverty Guidelines and Poverty Thresholds.
37. I like power tools.
38. Volunteer work is very important to me.
39. I wanted to be a mom.
40. I love magazines.
41. I drive a 1995 Honda Civic EX with 138,000 miles.
42. I bought my house in 1996.
43. I paid for my house in five years.
44. I have a baby grand piano.
45. I own two banjos.
46. I have a guitar.
47. I have a mountain dulcimer.
48. I have a psaltery.
49. I have a harmonica.
50. I took a class in stained glass.
51. I took three years of French in high school and 18 hours in college.
52. I cannot speak French.
53. I love my kitchen.
54. I hate to mow the yard.
55. I love gardens.
56. I was married for three years.
57. I got a wedding present from Doc Severinsen.
58. I played the piano in a Big Band for a few years.
59. I play handbells.
60. I often dream of moving to the Pacific Northwest.
61. I love to cook for friends.
62. I have high cholesterol.
63. I cannot swim.
64. I have been injured when thrown from catamarans several times and feared dying in the lake.
65. I lived with a boyfriend for six years.
66. I bought my first house when I was 25.
67. I doubt that I will ever be married again.
68. I love to grow roses.
69. I believe we are all artists.
70. I wanted to be a dietician when I was in grade school and junior high.
71. I did very well in science and math classes.
72. I spent the last two months of my mother’s life with her. It was life-changing.
73. I believe we are co-creators of our lives with God.
74. I have an amazing mind for trivia.
75. I used to write trivia quizzes for United Features Syndicate after my fellowship.
76. I hate roller coasters.
77. I love long walks.
78. I hate cigarettes and what they do to people.
79. I had a poodle for 15 years which I loved dearly.
80. I love to watch Dr. Phil.
81. I hate debt, especially credit card debt.
82. I have never held a gun.
83. I enjoy high-quality knives.
84. I have many sets of dishes.
85. I dream of living in the country.
86. I would love to have a barn.
87. I dream of owning a bed and breakfast inn.
88. I taught myself to knit when I was 10.
89. I have had eight friends and relatives killed by drunken drivers.
90. My family was very poor when I was growing up.
91. I have always felt depressed since I was in junior high.
92. I drink a lot of Diet Coke.
93. I don’t particularly like French fries.
94. I don’t care for fashion. I’m perfectly happy in blue jeans.
95. I love to watch PBS British comedies on Sunday night.
96. I like to make local road trips to shoot photo essays.
97. I like exploring new blogs.
98. I wish I was better at cleaning my house.
99. I hate mice in my house.
100. I have always had insomnia.

9:01 a.m.

9:01 a.m. April 19.

Wednesday morning, just after Easter.

The weather has cooled today after some warm spring days.

It's "Patriots' Day," although the holiday, observed in some New England states, is now a Monday holiday. It marks the anniversary of Paul Revere's famous ride.

It's a beautiful, clear, sunny morning. It's one of those days that works on the human flesh to create that seasonal sense of hope -- all is right with the world.

Flowers bloom -- winter is really gone; no more teasing us. The earth is renewed. Tree leaves are budding, getting ready for their summer gig of providing shade for the city.

Children are energized, eager to start the day of playing. In a few seconds, a day care class will line up to walk to the library a block away. Moms and Dads are still bringing some of their classmates to join them. Smiles. Laughs. Giggles. Hugs.

That morning, so much like this morning, was 11 years ago.

And then.

9:02 a.m.

The world changes forever.

We will never forget.

He Is Not Here, for He Is Risen as He Said

Good Friday

Just a quick post today because I have much to do in a short time.

First, it's a beautiful day here, perfect weather. The sun is shining, the temperature is in the 70s, there's hardly a breath of wind for a change. I think this is the kind of day mail carriers pray for!

Today is Good Friday, the observation of Christ's crucifixion. Tonight will be the Stations of the Cross service at my church. Last night was the Maundy Thursday communion service. These two services are among the most important in the Christian faith, at least in my perspective (and countless others). Without this, without Christ's death, there would be no Easter. There would be no faith.

On a more worldly note, it is a very good Friday because the Vietnam Veterans just did a donation pickup. I just happened to be stepping out my front door as their truck arrived, so guess what....


(giving you guessing time....)




THE MICROFICHE READER IS GONE NOW FROM MY GARAGE!!

Yes, because of the timing, I was able to raise the garage door and ask them to take this hulking huge machine from me. They had a dolly and their big truck had a ramp so they didn't have to do the heavy lifting that has thwarted other efforts to get this behemoth outta here.

I had been unable to contact the Latter-day Saints as Frenzied recommended some long time back. Every time I tried to call I got no answer. I tried again just a few days ago after a conversation here.

But it is taken care of now. Maybe tomorrow I can clean out my garage and reorganize some of the rest of the mess in there. Oh how I look forward to it! This will be my personal version of an Easter egg hunt! Anyone want to join me? Anyone? Hello? Hey, where did everybody go????

Prayer shawl No. 3 completed

I finished my latest prayer shawl project this evening just in time to take it with me to church. On Tuesday nights I help lead a divorce recovery workshop, so it's easy to take a finished project to deliver it.

Here's No. 3 -- which I hope will go to an infant or young child at some point, because of the colors used. Forgive the clutter in the background -- this was a quick photo taken in my office just so I would have a photo record of the prayer shawl. All the fringe is there. I just didn't realize that one section was folded under. If I hadn't been trying to get out the door I would have paid closer attention to these little details.

From the weekend

It has been a busy weekend. Here are a few photos to summarize:

On Saturday was the memorial service for my dear friend Jeanne. It was a great service. The choir sang "On Eagle's Wings" and this was how the altar was presented in her memory.





































Today was Palm Sunday. The children waved palms as the choir sang, accompanied by the handbell choir, a drummer and piano. I was playing in the handbells and managed to snap this photo of the kids during six measures of rest. I don't recommend the technique. Plus I got way too much of our music in the photos!

























Here's the handbell choir in our annual photo. (Advantage of being the photographer: I'm not in the photo!)






















I've mentioned the prayer shawl ministry before. Here's my second shawl at the end of the service as members of the congregation tie knots in the fringe as they pray for the person receiving the shawl. I had failed to photograph this shawl before taking it to the church so that's why I wanted to catch it today.

























After church, there was a luncheon hosted by the youth. They were giving a presentation about their spring break mission trip to New Orleans where they helped work on homes and a church which will serve as a gathering center for future mission trip teams. The presentation was overwhelming. These kids will have stories to share for the rest of their lives.


























All in all, a wonderful, weepy weekend. Emotions have been stretched in all directions.

Happy Birthday, JT!

Happy birthday, JT!
Now you're as old as me.
Fifty wasn't bad
But 51's just sad.
Happy birthday to you...
Next up? 52!

And many mooooooore!

A Blogging Bear Without Peer

I've been recommending some of my favorite blogs recently, and there's one you just can't miss. Head over to Junior the Bear's blog at Xanga.

This isn't just some cotton-headed kids' toy talking. Junior has a wisdom that comes only with time. And travel. And I promise, you don't want to miss his travelogues. He's got a lot of pictures of the places he has visited -- some amazing trips! The giant troll is one of my favorites.

While you're there, make sure you leave a comment. He's being heckled by his "friend" -- Fatman. Fatman has taken to taunting Junior in an ugly, ugly way since I'm practically the only visitor who regularly leaves a note.

I know you'll find Junior's blog charming, educational and entertaining. Give it a try and make your day better!

The next few days

Since it's been a fairly quiet week, I'll let you all know what's on my calendar.

Tonight -- singles game night at the church. Snacks and an assortment of games to choose from. Two months ago was our first game night -- a huge success!

Saturday -- Jeanne's memorial service. The choir has been asked to sing "On Eagle's Wings" so I won't be wearing a hat. I will be taking a box of tissues. I'm sad enough to start with, but "Eagle's Wings" is difficult for me to sing without boo-hooing because my good friend Anne sang it for me at the scattering of the ashes for my mom and brother a few years ago. When I think of anyone who has had years of difficulties on this earth with their physical bodies, I think of them soaring once they are free of these bodies.

Sunday -- Palm Sunday! My handbell choir will be playing while the choir sings and the children process in the sanctuary waving palm branches. We'll even have drums as part of the mix! Also I'll be singing "Hosanna!" as part of a women's ensemble group.

Wednesday -- Final choir rehearsal for our Good Friday service. It will be at least a two-hour rehearsal.

Thursday -- Maundy Thursday communion service. This is a Taize style service in which the congregation shares leadership. There is an order of service which includes prayers and readings. Whoever is lead to reads as the spirit moves. The music consists of repetitive prayer songs, much like monastic chants. I find Taize services very, very moving. Communion will be served by intinction.

Friday -- Good Friday. Also called a Tenebrae service (Service of Shadows) or Stations of the Cross. This is a service led by the choir and minister. After each segment of the service, one of the candles is extinguished and/or a set of lights is turned off, until, finally, the congregation is seated in darkness as a strepitus (loud sound) signals the closing of the tomb of Christ. The congregation leaves in silence and darkness.

Sunday-- Easter Sunday! Christ is Risen! Three services at which the choir sings.

Yuck

It is with some sadness that I must report that I had a very disappointing lunch. Now, you have to realize that here in Oklahoma City good barbecue is widely available. In fact, in all my years I've never had anything I could remotely call "bad" barbecue.

Until today.

Lately, I have had a major craving for chopped beef sandwiches at lunchtime. Late last week I had one at a neighborhood BBQ place that was everything I've come to expect.

Today, however, when the craving struck again I decided to drive down to the Rib Crib and go through the drive-thru. I don't know why -- it's a false sense that I'll get my food faster and be able to drive directly home with it. Well, yeah, not so much after all.

It truly is a myth -- drive-thru service is NOT fast. You might as well turn the car off until they get good and ready to hand over the food.

But worse today was the dismal quality of the food. I was SO disappointed! I ordered my beloved chopped beef sammich. When I got home with it (less than a 5-minute drive) the first thing I noticed was how greasy the outside of the foil wrapper was. Then there was a piece of PLASTIC WRAP inside one flap of the foil wrapper. Clearly, this was a serious mistake on someone's part, but since it was not IN the food, I discarded it.

Then, finally, I got to the sandwich. Yuck. The bun was so soaked with grease that it was falling apart to the touch. I'm telling you, if I had pinched it, it would have squeezed grease out of it.
I tried to lift the top bun to put sauce on the meat. More yuck. The beef was shredded, dried out and obviously was not today's batch. I'd be generous if I guessed it was from yesterday's leftovers. The grease-filled bun was so heavy it separated into pieces as I tried to pick it up.

Well, the best I can say is they've done me a favor. I won't feel drawn to drive out of my way to park at the drive-thru window any more.

Life is too short to settle for bad Q.

Laid-back day

Happy birthday to me!

Yep, today's the day I flip the calendar over to another year. I am 51. Ye gods!

Who ever says anything nice about 51, I've asked my friends. Oprah's the champion of turning 50 (and she's just a smidge older than I am.) I didn't hear a peep out of her when she hit 51.

Where's the cake? Where are the fireworks?

Yawn....

I did go to Cold Stone Creamery and got a small cup of "Birthday Cake Remix." Whee. I couldn't eat it all. I've managed to wean myself off of most sweets, to the point that I just lost interest about halfway through.

I tried to go shopping at the mall. I had visions of treating myself to something "pretty."

Well, I got there. Dillard's was having some honkin' big shoe sale thing. It took a while to get through the throng. I finally made it to the area that should have had dresses. Yeah, well. Let's just say I'm not a satisfied customer. All the "petite" length dresses dragged the ground. It's not easy being green. It's also not easy being short, heavy and 51 and wanting to buy a dress.

I might try it again during the day in the middle of the week. I've got a little unspoken-for time coming up.

Even if I don't find something, that will be OK. I forgot I also have to pay for my car tag this month. The state sent me a friendly reminder this morning. With that and income taxes, it will be a lean month. Maybe I should think about just making myself a dress for Easter. It would be so much easier than shopping.

I did try on hats this evening, in honor of Jeanne. They were on sale, even. I found one that almost worked, but it was just enough too big to be wrong. But I'll keep my eyes open for other options when I'm out and about.

Well, I think I'll go set the clocks ahead and go to bed. The only thing worse than turning 51 is doing it on the day before Daylight-Saving Time starts.

Don't forget to set your own clocks ahead! You don't want to be late tomorrow!


. . . And many moooooooore!

Goodbye, Dear Jeanne

Jeanne with another friend at church.


I have a dear, dear friend named Jeanne who is crossing over today. She had a massive stroke yesterday. This morning the family decided to remove the life support system; it was expected she would die in a short time.

Jeanne is in her late 70s, probably. She was like a mother to me, offering her support and wisdom countless times. Every Sunday I looked forward to seeing her at church because she always wore a hat, and I could count on a hug and kiss from

her as we checked in with each other. It was never a passing "how are you?" It was more of a "let me look into your eyes and see how your heart is this week." We never let each other off the hook with surface talk.

In the past year her eyesight started failing because of macular degeneration, so she had given up her duties as an usher (perhaps the first woman usher we'd had.)

She had been married before her current marriage. From her first marriage she had a son, a doctor, who died about the same time I lost my brother. We gave each other a lot of support and sympathy during those days.



From time to time she gave me great advice about life after divorce. She told me that it's often worth the investment to go to a garage sale, buy old glasses and dishes, invite a friend over and throw the dishes against a brick wall. Very therapeutic, she said. She was right.

On remarriage: "When Mel and I were talking about marriage, he said 'Jeanne, I'll always be there as a safety net for you. But don't you ever lean.'"

Jeanne never was the kind of woman who would lean. She was very self-sufficient and had her own career in the petroleum industry when it was uncommon for women to do so.

A couple of months ago Jeanne came rushing up to me after church to tell me about a dream she had had. In the dream, she and I were dancing together. The way she described it made me weep. I hope her spirit is dancing with God today in heaven; I look forward to the day when we can dance with the angels together.

Jeanne in December

I will miss my dear friend so much. Saturday is my birthday. I think I will go shopping for a hat to wear to church Sunday in her honor.

Is it spring fever?

I don't know whether things in the blogging world are slower because of spring in general or if people are just busy or bored or what.

I just know that y'all are not entertaining me as much as you should be and I've had to step outside our relationship to find fulfillment (now there's a statement I never dreamed I'd make!!)

Yes, it's true. I've gone blog reading and I've found some very interesting sites. No, not the ones with naked photos!

It started with Trixie in Transit, who has posted here. There really is another blogger named Trixie; I'm not talking to myself, at least not in public! I'm amazed at the things she's doing. Go look at her blog and see all the things she's done just today and in the past week! She must have boundless energy as well as tons of friends and interests.

Through this Trixie, I've found a whole world of other knitters. What fun! One has led to another, and I've discovered interesting people EVERYWHERE! Here are a couple of the ones I'm hooked on lately: The Casting On Couch and Crazy Aunt Purl. Both of these women can WRITE and they have tremendously interesting points of view on life. The fact that they knit is gravy for me.

Through this maze of links and such, I've found other blogs -- some are knitters, some are friends of knitters or others whose blogs I've enjoyed a great deal. One that is just heart-melting sweet is Kuky Ideas. It's a sweet, lovely journal of a baby girl's milestones seen through her parents' eyes. The mom is tremendously gifted as an artist and she uses her gifts to make her blog so much fun! She is a knitter, too. Best picks: The "Silly Parent" series.

Another writer in this bunch is I once was HP, now I'm Mommy. This is her non-mommy blog. She has good mom-family-kids slice-of-life blogs as well which are great fun.

I hope I don't sound like a weirdo finding so much joy in reading about other people's kids. The fact that these are so well-written and just exude family love is so charming. And that's made my life better since I found them.

A kindred spirit is Genevieve, who has posted here. Her blog is Prairie Bluestem, which is the Kentucky version of what I would love my blog to be. Genevieve shares her observation of the life around here with photos and great essays. Sometimes I am stunned that we have so many common interests and seem to have similar outlooks on the sacred bits of our ordinary lives. I'm glad she posted here so I could find her.

Here's wishing all of you great happiness as you, too, explore the blogging world!

Irritated by thieves

Tech ranted last week about the low-lifes who steal a writer's work. Little did I know that it would happen to me this week.

And to make it worse, it was done by the publication for which I do most of my paid writing.

A message was left on my answering machine to call someone at the office. I figured from the name and phone number that it was someone in a different part of the company (usually it's subscriber services if I don't immediately recognize the person, but not this time.)

When I returned the call, I got a breathy, fast-talking woman who sounded like what she is -- an advertising employee.

"I just needed to get your OK to use a couple of your stories in our special style section we're publishing this weekend," she started. Then she started reading off a list of stories she plans to use.

"None of those are mine," I said. And I told her where my work usually appears.

"Oh yes, I remember," as she lists off some other stories I didn't write.

"No, no, and no," I replied.

Finally she hit on a couple that ARE my work.

"We're just repurposing your stories to use. We're reprinting them straight out of the archive."

"Repurposing?" I said. "And by 'repurposing,' what you really mean is you're stealing my work and not paying me for it, don't you?"

Giggles from her end of the line. "No, (giggle), we're repurposing it. (giggle.)"

Well, this call took place on Thursday afternoon. She wasn't getting my permission. Maybe she thought I had just fallen off the turnip truck, but I know that the presses on these special sections start running about 8 a.m. Thursday.

It wouldn't have mattered at that point what I said about whether it was OK or not. The woman had already stolen my work, for which I hold the copyright. The publication has a contract with me that it has rights for first publication ONLY. They don't get a second run at it, legally.

Nothing I can do about it. The deed was done before I had a hint of it at all. And when I suggested that she really ought to pay me for a second publication, what do you think I heard from her end?

(Giggle) "OK then, I just wanted to let you know we were repurposing it and get your approval. Thanks so much for calling back. Bye now!"

Click.

Just BE

Thanks so much to Trixie of Trixie in Transit. After my tantrum posted last night, she kindly has reminded me to take some time to just BE.

So well I recognize the difference between BEING and DOING. Our value comes not from what we DO, but simply from BEING. We have value just because we are here. It's that easy.

It's a hard lesson that was refined for me after spending my life with a mentally handicapped brother. Bob was 16 months older than me and died Nov. 17, 1997. I wrote this essay, which was published on his birthday just a few weeks later, Dec. 12, 1997. When I need to remember the value of BEING, I pull it out again to reread. I hope it helps others as much as it helps me.
***


HIS JOB WAS TO BE WHO HE WAS
He loved Paul Harvey, Lawrence Welk, public television and listening to
country gospel records.

He filled his days listening to the police scanner for the town gossip,
figuring out how things work and playing with his beagle, Tippy.

Today is his birthday; my brother would have been 44 years old.

Bob never worked; his job in life simply was to be who he was, and he did
it well. These days the politically correct term is "special needs;" in our
childhood, less kind terms were applied to his condition. It's best that
those words stay in the past.

We were blessed to have grown up in a small Oklahoma town. Bob had the
chance to be at home there, which wouldn't have been possible in a larger
city. People knew Bob, and were patient with him. They listened to him even
when it was hard to understand him. And that's all that really mattered
to him, because he liked to talk.

But the blessing also had another side. Education and training opportunities for
Bob and his peers were severely limited in our hometown in the 1960s. Bob attended special school until he was 12; from that age on, he was at home, under our
mother's care. There was no need for assisted living, or group homes, or
institutionalization in our family. We were lucky that it was possible for
Bob and Mom to live together and take care of each other.

He was fascinated with power tools and electricity, and his week was not
complete without several hours of how-to programs on public television.
Employees in all the hardware stores in town knew Bob and his latest
project.

He finished few, but finishing was never the point to any of Bob's
projects. One work he did complete has a permanent home in my kitchen - a
simple wooden stepstool he made so I could reach my cabinets. I use it
every day.

Yes, Bob's main job was simply to be who he was. He needed no day planner;
scheduling wasn't important. There was no rat race, no corporate ladder
that needed climbing. He lived on God's timetable.

His needs were simple - eating a grilled cheese sandwich, visiting with
his bingo buddies, studying the displays at the hardware store, playing
the piano by ear.

But he had goals, and worked toward those until he achieved them. Most of
them were goals he had for helping someone else, including me. I learned
how to rewire lamps by watching him.

Last year, his big goal was to help me buy a dishwasher for the old house I had
recently bought. Last Thanksgiving, he handed me an envelope filled with
money; he had saved his $2 a week allowance - the same $2 a week we got as
an allowance when we were children - until he could afford my
Christmas present, the dishwasher.

He wanted to make sure I bought it before Christmas. I did, but it remains
in the carton, still uninstalled, because I haven't made the time in my
over-scheduled life to get it put in. Be assured, it will be in place
before this Christmas. I wish he could be here to see it work.

I last saw him the day after Halloween, and remembered a particular autumn
in our childhood 35 years ago.

We had a ritual of raking the leaves together, and the sounds and smells
are forever imprinted in my memory. There's a photograph of him next to
a pile of leaves, wearing a scarf and beret for his part as a Frenchman
in a school play.

That same fall, our grandparents celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary.
Even though the grownups were all busy, our grandpa made the time to
play his banjo for us, and then gave us a pumpkin from his garden to make
a jack-o'lantern.

Days before Halloween we were playing tag and telling ghost
stories. Bob picked up the pumpkin as he chased me, making up a tale of
some headless monster. About the third time around the living room, he
tripped, and our cherished pumpkin went flying, landing in a shattered mess
on the floor. It was like losing a member of the family.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Pumpkin!" Bob exclaimed.

That bittersweet phrase has been repeated nearly every fall since.

Despite that sad Halloween episode, many autumnal events brought joy to
Bob's life: pumpkin pie and cranberry sauce at Thanksgiving, followed by
our ritual of decorating the Christmas tree on his birthday. He
loved flowers, too, and managed to grow amaryllises so he nearly always had
a bloom open on his birthday.

Christmas was the big day of the year for him, because that was when he
could give his presents. It was impossible for him to keep a secret, though,
so we always knew what was under the tree before we unwrapped our packages.

Bob didn't understand much about religion or theology, but he knew the
Christmas story, and he believed in angels and heaven. Before it became
physically difficult for him to attend, he enjoyed going to church,
especially to hear the music and to visit with his friends.

He prayed for people instinctively. I think that's why he loved gospel
music so much; the messages in the music were already rooted in who he was.

Bob's not here to celebrate his birthday today; he died, peacefully,
in his sleep a couple of weeks ago. Mom tried to wake him so he wouldn't
miss hearing Paul Harvey on the radio, but the angels had already visited
in the night, and he already knew "the rest of the story."

It seemed right, somehow, that many of his bingo buddies heard the news
on the police scanner.

Happy birthday, Bob. I'm putting up my little tree after work tonight, and
I'll put a bow on the dishwasher for you. Sissy misses you.

Wouldn't it be lovely?

Today has been a really stinky day, so by mid-afternoon the seed of a thought started taking root.

Wouldn't it be lovely to drop out of sight for a while? To give up all the meetings and the rehearsals? To suddenly fall into that "perfect" job, at least for a little while -- you know the one that pays you what you're worth, makes you feel as though you're really respected as a productive human being? The one where effort is rewarded and initiative is applauded instead of ignored?

The rut is getting deep and I look around and find many of my fellow rut-walkers are absent. The excuses are thick -- spring break; obligations with children; illnesses; overscheduled. I need to drop out for a while too, because I'm so very tired of walking in this rut alone.

It was a bad day. I can't say much more about it.

I'm tired. I'm going to go punch my pillow and crash. Tomorrow's another day.

Could this be my next knitting project?

I laughed myself sick over this one. I think I am destined to make...





THE CHICKEN VIKING HAT!

I know a certain redneck editor/writer who NEEDS one of these to wear at work. Yup.

A good Friday night; a great rainy Saturday

FRIDAY NIGHT: BABYSITTING

I haven't done this for decades. My high school journalism teacher (who I went to visit in October in Vancouver, Wash., with friend JT) and her family are in town for a wedding. Her grandsons (8 and 11) were not invited to the rehearsal dinner last night so she called to see if I could take them to a movie.

We went to see the Pink Panther, sat on the front row, ate popcorn and drank sodas. Then we walked around the mall, and listened to some Andean Indian flute musicians. I bought them pan flutes and we watched the fountain water show.
Then we watched the lady at Godiva Chocolates do chocolate-covered marshmallows and we bought a candy each.
Then they played on the computers at the Dell kiosk. And then they wanted to go home. They weren't hungry for anything in the food court (drats!).
Then we got back to their Holiday Inn, and they wanted to go to the fitness room, so we went down there and walked/ran on the treadmills and pedaled the bike and watched cartoons on the TV.
Then we went to the pool so they could splash around and toss a nerf ball with the other kids who were hanging out there.
Then we went back to the room and they got back in dry clothes.
Then they watched cartoons for a few minutes, and wanted to go back to the fitness room, so we repeated that.
Then we went back to the room and they snacked on stuff and we watched Ed, Edd and Eddie while I pulled my hair out.
Then the older one went in to take a shower. AHA! While he was doing that, I turned the TV to Roseanne. The little guy was thrilled because he never gets to watch it if big brother is around.
FINALLY the parents came home at midnight. I didn't mind them being that late at all, it was just that none of us had any idea how long the rehearsal dinner was going to be. (This all started at 5 p.m.) I was getting sleepy and hungry so I was glad to see them.
They were good kids. I think they had fun. I hope they remember that they had fun.

SATURDAY: DELIGHTING IN THE RAIN

It's been a glorious, wonderful rainy Saturday. This is our first really great rain in months and months. I celebrated by sleeping really late and listening the National Public Radio (Bits of "Car Talk"; a little bit of investing news, then "The Splendid Table.")

Being that it's a good, rainy day, I decided it must be celebrated out in the elements. So I pulled on my clothes (jeans and a cozy sweater) and topped it off with my leather jacket. I just spent a fortune on my car last week with major repairs and maintenance, the least being new windshield wipers and new tires. Time to test them out to make sure they work while wet!

There's a favorite coffee shop in Bethany called The Java Joint (It's on NW 38 and Donald for those in the Oklahoma City/Bethany area, just south of the Goodyear store on NW 39 Expressway). I don't get to go there very often but I love the place, especially if I am alone and can sit and just watch people. Don't worry, I usually pretend to be reading while I do this, trying to be fairly discreet. I don't just pull up a chair and stare.

Anyway, I splashed through the parking lot puddles to the entrance, walked in and ordered a huge blueberry muffin and a tall mocha with whipped cream. Then I found a little table, grabbed a paper and staked my claim. As I reached for the paper, another patron picked up a $10 and asked if it was mine. I immediately recognized it was, as I have a pretty odd way of folding my paper money when I stuff it in my pocket. I gasped and thanked him for noticing, because it surely would have been a painful loss for me considering how drained my accounts are these days. His random kindness and honesty kept me smiling through the morning.

I leisurely read through the paper, taking time to enjoy Billy Graham's column and Dear Abby, a couple of old favorites I hadn't read in a considerably long time. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a guy at a nearby table with a laptop. He was joined, one at a time, by three other folks who gathered round to see what was on the screen. They were too old, really, to be typical college students at nearby Southern Nazarene University. Maybe faculty members? Maybe business partners starting up their own company? Oh I could make up stories but probably will never know the truth.

A staff person picked up my empty muffin plate as soon as I devoured the last bit. How kind, I thought, as I turned to the comics, another rare pleasure. When did Gasoline Alley take a violent turn?

Finally, a final swish of the mug so I could down the last bit of my mocha. Yummy! Time to think about where to go next. I looked out the window to make sure the rain hadn't stopped. I would have felt so cheated if this had been another teasing sprinkle, but no, it's still a slow, soaking, rich rain. I smiled again, thinking maybe this will give us a chance to keep some grass in our yards this spring.

The coffee shop was once a small house and still has some of that feeling to it, though it has been opened up. You can tell where certain rooms used to be, and the garage was converted into a large sunroom. The original garage door is still in place, but panels have been replaced with glass. On really nice days, I've been there when the doors were rolled up.

Today a group of Red Hat ladies were gathered in the garage room for some sort of party. What fun, with their purple dresses and fancy red hats and boas! I'm finally old enough to be a member, but I haven't found a chapter yet that has an opening. Maybe soon!

But back to my ponderings... what to do with the rest of the day...


AHA! I figured out where I wanted to go next. A yarn shop! I'm interested in finding some different types of yarn for more knitting projects, since there's such a generous selection these days. Sure there are tons more yarns than the Red Heart worsted I learned to knit on four decades ago.

I had found an online listing for a yarn shop near The Village, in Cassady Square. Splash, splash, splash through all the puddles between hither and yon. The windshield wipers are great! (Not that the old set got that much use, but they do get old, you know.) SPLASH! The new tires are so happy to show off what they can do. SPLASH! What a happy sound!

I found a parking place between the quilt shop and a needlepoint shop. Glancing around, I'm not seeing the kind of yarn for knitters, but there's a puppy in the needlepoint shop. Who can resist? I go in and love on the puppy, a Yorkie. A Yorkie in need of grooming, with very long hair standing straight out from its body because of static electricity. Puppy has been wallowing on its back on the sofas in the shop and looks like Frankenstein's hound. I love it. We cuddle and kiss while the owners are rolling with laughter at the hound's hairdo and my heart is melting, wanting a pupster of my own. Another customer comes in, so I let Madge visit her and I look around at the needlepoint canvases for a few minutes before slipping out.

The sidewalk is fairly well covered by canopies, so I stroll around looking for this alleged yarn shop. Oh, there it was, a place that was called The Linen Sisters. Alas, the store closed Feb. 28. It looks like they just walked away from it and left the stock, shelving and everything. What a pity, but I can tell by staring through the window that it probably didn't have the kind of stock I was really hoping to find.

That's OK. I do a little more window shopping, puddle stomping and browsing before deciding to drive on up to Edmond to the big Hobby Lobby.

SPLASH! SPLASH! the new tires are thrilled to be running along on the highway.

I pull into the shopping center to a large sign proclaiming SERENDIPITY! Indeed, this has been a day filled with serendipity. Oh, but they are talking about a shop, which used to be a crafter's mall. Today, I can resist because I'm on a yarn-seeking mission. Hobby Lobby is at the end of one of the wings of this shopping center.

One final SPLASH as I pull into a parking space just a few spaces away from the door.

I love Hobby Lobby, but this one is set up backwards from my usual haunt. It takes me a while to get my bearings (yeah, right, I was browsing. I admit it.)

WOW. When I finally find the yarn section, I discover a half-price sale on certain brands of yarn. How lucky am I? Serendipity, I tell you. I go into a trance, floating from one segment to another, synapses flashing as my eyes take in all the colors and textures. Somehow my hands have become tangled in the skeins feeling the fibers. Gaaahhhh. My mouth is watering from all the yarnalicious delights!

Is it any wonder? The colors have names like "bubble gum" and "cake frosting." Yum!

Oh look! There's a whole wall filled with mounds and mounds of Red Heart Yarn. Yes, the old standard, in all the old familiar colors. Basic, good old yarn. Inexpensive, durable and oh, so practical and utilitarian. Definitely not what I'm looking for today.

The fancy yarns are the ones on sale! What good fortune. I finally settle on Yarn Bee brand in a type called Frosting. The color is named Baltic Cream. It's kind of a periwinkle -- halfway between lavender and light blue. It's a beautiful color and the yarn has a little sparkle to it with the feel of a chenille. Normally it is $4 a skein, but at half price I can get five skeins for the $10 the guy returned to me at the coffee shop. Serendipity! This will be a future prayer shawl. It is as soft as the too-long hair on the electrified Yorkie.

I carry my purchase back out to the car, jumping in one more puddle out of pure joy.

Oh look! There's the Delta Cafe at the far end of the other leg of the shopping center. Guess where I'm having lunch!

I ordered the light portion of meat loaf, with mashed potatoes and fried okra. I can't even eat half of the meal before I'm too full to breathe. Oh yeah, I just had that huge muffin, didn't I? OK, I'll get a go-box and take this home. It'll save me a stop at the grocery store.

So now I'm home, telling you my story. I think this afternoon calls for a nap to top things off, then when I wake up I'll get some writing work out of the way.

Later, I'll see if I'm ready to finish that meat loaf or maybe test out the new yarn to see how it looks made up.

I hope you have enjoyed a splash or two of your own today. It's too good to waste it by staying inside!

Why, oh Why?

Saw this at that crazy Frenzied Feline's blog. Why, oh why, I ask again, would I have to take the donut test while we're all working on losing weight?

I have wanted a hot Krispy Kreme donut for weeks now, but to acquire one requires great effort and a lengthy drive through a construction zone. Believe me, resisting them has nothing to do with willpower and everything to do with a hatred of backed-up traffic.

You Are a Boston Creme Donut

You have a tough exterior. No one wants to mess with you. But on the inside, you're a total pushover and completely soft. You're a traditionalist, and you don't change easily. You're likely to eat the same doughnut every morning, and pout if it's sold out.

What Donut Are You?