Quilting!

I'm learning to quilt! Okay, I know the basic concept, having watched Grandma Thomas for years, and have made a little project or two of my own over the years, but now I am learning from a great lady named Susan. She opened shop in an old brick storefront here in spacious downtown Bremen called Main Street Quilters. Lovely shop and she's a lot of fun to be with. We are making a Bento Box wall hanging - I'll post pictures of my own when I'm beyond piles of neatly cut squares and rectangles. Since my livingroom is dark (cherokee red walls, pine green trim), I'm using pale parchment colors, lighter greens and some reds. Lennea and I are doing the class together.

Erik

Our family visited Erik today. Today is Erik's 14th birthday; he is in the hospital after suffering from a brain aneurysm the Sunday after Thanksgiving. Subsequently, he went into kidney failure. He is a sweet young man, and I don't say that just because he's ill. My daughter Katie, soon to be 14, has known Erik since they were toddlers. At a summer outing for preschoolers, I was laying in the grass with the kids looking at clouds when Erik decided the most comfortable place to lay was on my legs. That's what kind of kid he still is - physically affectionate, cheerful, unabashed, blonde-haired, with an impish grin and he plays a mean trumpet. He and Katie are in band together and challenge each other back and forth for first chair.
Erik is making progress. The dialysis is draining his body of excess fluid, the cat-scan looks good and he is responsive, thought not totally awake. The meds and the strain on his body keeps him mostly sedated, although he knows you're there. The strain on the family is great, but their faith in God and the support of family and friends keeps them going.
The kids at school have rallied to his cause; Katie and another classmate have made and passed out countless necklaces with painted bottle caps, with an 'E' on them; the students have also made and are wearing t-shirts that say 'Pray For Erik' (this at a public school - they're not all bad!). Teachers and students have visited, sent hundreds of cards as well as balloons and gifts. Erik is a well-loved and deeply missed young man.
Please pray for Erik and his parents, siblings, and the physicians and staff at Nationwide Children's Hospital.

Husbands Shopping For Christmas

I love this! I found "What To Get Your Wife For Christmas" & "What Not To Get Your Wife For Christmas" at http://janparrish.blogspot.com/ . Jan has a nice blog - check it out! While you're at it, post your own 'what to...' and 'what not to...' lists! How fun!

Top 10 Things NOT To Buy Your Wife For Christmas
10. Clock radio

9. CHEAP chocolate

8.Santa mug

7. Bath stuff

6. NASCAR jewelry

5. Gift card to Kroger's

4. A house robe like your mother's

3. Vacuum cleaner

2. Crocheted potholders

1. Anything with geese, cows or pigs on it

Top 10 Things You SHOULD Buy Your Wife For Christmas

10. The perfume she always stops at the perfume counter to smell (ask her best friend or sister!)

9. Belgian, German or French chocolate

8. Gift card for a massage

7. Sexy negligee (check her favorite nightie for correct size!)

6. Make (yes, 'make') a coupon book of personal & household services you will perform for her and be creative!

5. What music does she sing along with in the car? Buy her the CD!

4. The movie you watched together when you were first dating.

3. A love note you wrote yourself

2. Warm AND pretty slippers

1. Finished "Honey Do" list

Frosty Morning

Snowy Ohio Day

I wrote this on a summer day when I was in high school. We lived on Paradise Rd. and it was truly a green paradise in the tree covered hills. I was home alone and it was early morn as I looked out upon the stretch of green grass that was our yard. It was supposed to be a poem about the green, the hills and trees, but it turned into a Christmas poem. I think God wrote it instead of me.

As I looked upon the snow so white,

Glistening in the moon's soft light,

A thought reflected in my mind

About a Babe born in a manger kind.

A Babe born on a cool Bethlehem night,

A Babe born to bear the name Jesus Christ.

Deborah Berry

Flakes-a-flyin'

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Tiny flakes are flying 'round,
Clinging in crevices,
lightly dusting the ground.
A preview to what's to come tonight,
Full winter is on the horizon just in sight.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Brrrr....rrr...rrrr!!!

Weather like today's reminds me of a very chilly high school football game a few years ago. We were sitting next to the band (at our school, we have as many band groupies as we do football fanatics!) when one of the trombones started a cheer. It's one of those "give me a..." kind of cheers that the crowd responds to, often mindlessly as not to lose track of what's happening on the field. It was a perfect example of mindless crowd mentality - we should have known something was amiss when it started with "give me a 'B'" (we are the Fairfield Union Falcons, always an 'F'), but we went along.

"Give me a 'B'" - "B!"

"Give me an 'R'" - "R!"

"Give me an 'R'" - "R!"

"Give me another 'R'" - "R!"

"What's that spell?" "Brrrrrr!"

The stands cracked up laughing!
So, that LONG story said - 'brrrr.....rrrrr...rrr!!' - it's COLD outside!
Here in Ohio, winter (technically late Fall) has only flirted with us. We have had 60-70 degree days, intermingled with frosty mornings. The mercury has been everywhere but normal, until now. Which is to say it is typical Ohio weather, as we say: 'if you don't like the weather, wait a minute, it will change!'
Shopping in Amish Country on Saturday was fun. We never set foot inside a touristy craft store, nothing like that. We hit the bulk food stores, shopping alongside the locals, buying all sorts of wonderful goodies to feed our families and ourselves, stocking up on baking supplies. We hit Heini's Cheese (the BEST cheese), had an awesome fried chicken lunch, went to Zink's and gorged on yards and yards of fleece, fabrics, trims and other sewing goodies (fleece at 2.99 a yard!), do another bulk food store and lug out 50 lb bags of flour, hit Lehman's (you should see the awesome woodburning stoves and all the cool cookware and the books and ....) and finally, Breitenbach Winery. It was a fun day of almost guilt-free shopping.

Off To Amish Country I Go - Hi Ho!

Today's the day: I'm heading to Amish Country with a pair of ladies who introduced me to it this past Spring. They couldn't believe that I had never been. In Ohio, Amish Country is up in Holmes Co. and the immediately surrounding area, north of I-70, just west of I-77, in case you look at a map. We justify our "mom's day out" by shopping for food. Yep. Grocery shopping is fun there. Big bulk food places, chocolatier, cheese factory, winery, oh, and the big fabric place. Gotta get a shower and get dressed, we head out at 7 AM!

SNEAK PREVIEW Creative Call Studios

Late Fall's First Nip

Chilly mornings have haunted since late September,
But Dawn's light gave Jack Frost a good fright,
Until one morning Dawn dallied a bit too long
And 'ol Jack joyfully did his dance with a song,
Splashing his sparkling white on summer's lingering blooms,
Announcing that winter would be here soon.

Back From A Long Snooze

Okay, I haven't actually been snoozing, but I have certainly neglected this blog. I have lots of lovely photos to share, news and new undertakings. But first, let me share our cat, Thomas, and his lovely yawn.

Winter Has Arrived

While our motto is "if you don't like the weather, wait a minute, it'll change", Ohioans do enjoy having seasons reflect the expected weather for the season. With that in mind, a collective sigh of relief was breathed when our Winter finally turned wintry. After the deep cold snap last week and the blast of ice and snow this week, creeks finally started freezing over and the landscape turned white and crystalline. Even with all that there were signs of Spring as fat Robins flitted about and played merrily amidst ice encrusted limbs.

Praying For Snow

Yes, her prayers were answered. This stoney little angel kneels in the snow outside my friend's flower shop and greenhouse, The Good Earth. She has steadfastly prayed through rain, sleet, blazing sun and hail. We have had a finicky winter in our area of Ohio, with temperatures in the 60's only two weeks ago. Now we have subzero windchills, and yes, SNOW! Lots of beautiful, fluffy white stuff. Yes, little angel, your prayers have come true. Now if we could get these kids back to school, MY prayers would be answered!

Where Old Chevys Go To Die

This is a junkyard in Campbellsville, KY where old Chevys go to die. I found it one day while cruising around, burning time on a visit to my daughter in college. My father is a HUGE old car enthusiast and I knew he would love the place. Old 57's stretch across the front of the property, while cars of every vintage in the last 70 years sprawl through the grass and woods surrounding the empty shack that sits on a knoll in the midst of the abandoned decay. I took my father to see it a week ago and his reaction was exactly as I predicted - like a kid in a candy shop. His eyes got huge and his voice filled with awe as he poked around the old cars, reciting makes, years and various details of each vehicle. My daughter's eyes rolled back into her head as she complained "I can't believe we're doing this, someone is going to shoot us!" I informed her that it's the least we can do for her grandpa, who endured the ride down here to see her and listen to her boyfriend's recital. A few times I saw the thoughts clicking through my Dad's head as he eyeballed the back of the van and a particularly appealing piece of old car..."will it fit? Should I take it home?" He didn't lug anything home this time, but I bet he's cleaning out his garage to make room for treasure retrieved on the next trip.

This Angel has for a century hovered,
In sunlight, storm and 'neath snow's cover.
She has not wavered,
She has not moved,
But guarded the sleep
Of the departed lovers.

Bittersweet is so difficult to find anymore. Once growing abudantly on fencerows, it has been largely eradicated by road crews spraying herbicides along roadsides. I found this bittersweet scrambling 20 feet up a rough old tree.

Last & Best of the Season: 2006 Fairfield Co. Fair

Autumn in Fairfield County means golden fields of ripened corn and soybeans,
leaves in rusty orange, yellow, bronze, red and olive green.
Farmers with big, slow loads leading parades on country roads.
Bright, azure skies, gray storms, honey-colored days and frost on the pumpkins.
The smell of cool, damp earth, apple cider, chrysanthemums, corn dogs and elephant ears.
What?
Corn dogs and elephant ears?
Don't they belong to summer?
In Fairfield County they belong to Autumn because our fair is the last one in the state of Ohio.
There are few sights more beautiful than the one from atop the Ferris Wheel on a bright autumn day, overlooking the city of Lancaster and it's church steeples, old homes, and brightly colored, tree-lined streets. A view accompanied by the sound of people laughing and merry-go-round music, marching bands, cows and horses and "step right up ladies...".
It's a treat for all the senses: there's nothing like the taste and smell of greasy fair french fries, sticky cotton candy, pungent horseradish piled on a sausage sandwich and stubborn taffy powdered with corn starch.
At the end of the day, the crowds trudge home, with sore feet, full bellies and tired eyes, but glad for the experience and eager for next year's great fair.

Many people look forward to the flaming Fall change of the leaves, which is still a few weeks away as I write this. They venture from the four walls of their homes to view the foliage, take a few snapshots and chatter about the beauty for a few weeks. All fine and good, but I prefer to roll in the lushness all year round.
I am blessed to live in at the edge of the Hocking Hills.
Winters are cold and damp, grey-blue skies etched by dark, skeletal limbs stretching out, attempting to draw a little warmth from the distant sun. Morning windowsills are touched by frost's artistic fingertips, puddles and slow creeks crusted over with thin ice. When deep Winter visits, people breath a sigh of relief: the snow is reassurance that the season is progressing as prescribed and the muddiness of wet winter is dressed up in a cloak of glistening white. Just when another day of winter cannot be borne, little sprouts of green ooze through dull bark and buds of Snow Drops, Crocus and Daffodil burst free of the cold ground. Suddenly the hills are alive! Spring births pale greens, bright greens, decked out in blossoms of yellow, white, blushing pink. After the blooms fall to confetti, the greens mature, become deeper, more intense, like a young man's voice. The fallen blossoms have left round swellings that will also mature into fruits of many colors and sizes.
Summer is exciting. Thunderstorms toss the leaves and fruit bearing and evening breezes rustling the leaves to life. Summer is the time to step out, inhale the green, try to count the endless shades of green, and enjoy the harmony of thousands of locusts as they emerge from the earth, clinging to the trees, singing for joy to be alive.
Then late Summer and early Autumn stride confidently onto the scene. Again the shades of green change, shaded with yellow, brown, turning olive and bronze. The crickets take up their song all day long now. In the daytime, calling fast and frantic, at night becoming lazier lotharios, stroking slow and easy.
It's this early Autumn that enchants me most. The mature green landscape is generously freckled with golds and dark reds, while a few flashy oranges dare to peek through. Fence rows are laden with bright red rose hips, shy bittersweet, and clusters of tiny berries ranging from white to purple. Drifts of rich goldenrod and royal purple aster border maturing soybean fields, fill roadsides and harvested fields. Stepping into the early Autumn woods is the greatest sensory thrill. I brush my hands across velvet green moss, pluck leathery leaves and rub them on my cheeks, inhale the damp earth, nibble a sharp pine needle, listen to the desperate crickets and the flocks of birds racing through the outstretched hardwood branches. Late afternoons are honey-colored, as the sun passes on a more southerly course and sundown looms closer at 4 PM than it did a month ago.
This is the Season that speaks to my soul. My travel is slower, to compensate for the racing of my heart as I joyfully take in the burst of color, sound and smell that is My FavoriteTime Of The Year. The taste of freshly pressed apple cider, from the orchard up the road, embodies all of it one golden gulp.
By the time the city slickers and the shutterbugs descend upon the Hills, I've become so high with the season that the flamboyant oranges, rusts, bronzes, maroons, blood reds and golds send me into delirium and as the last leaf falls and the gawkers trudge home, I drift into a doze of technicolor dreams.