“Begin doing what you want to do now. We are not living in eternity. We have only this moment, sparkling like a star in our hand - and melting like a snowflake.”
- Francis Bacon

Saturday, March 21, 2009

Spring is in the air, especially when you celebrate Pink Saturday!

PINK SATURDAY again over at Beverly's place, How Sweet the Sound. It seems like each week more and more wonderful pinkies show up in the participants' blogs. This week I have more from my dining room for you to see. Some old, some new but all loved! And, all PINK!


Not long ago I went over to a Pink Saturday blog, Sweet Memory Making Mom. The first thing that I saw was the cutest and sweetest and most adorable, little pin cushion I had ever laid my eyes on. (I need to mention that Disney's Dumbo is one of those cartoons very close to my heart. Each and every time I see his mother, Mrs. Jumbo, reach for her baby from behind bars to hold him to rock him to sleep...well, I lose it and begin to bawl like a baby. I can't help it. The love a mother has for her children is so sacred to me, nothing more precious.) Anyway, I followed the link Ellen placed on her blog over to Etsy and there was my little cutie pie, all set for me to adopt so she could move into her new home. When she finally arrived I tore open the package to find that I was thrilled with the quality of Mrs. Jumbo, in fact, I got much more than expected. Not only my precious, cutie pie pin cushion was inside the box but a little, matching pillow filled with the most fragrant lavender my nose has ever had the pleasure to sniff. Take a little trip over to Sweet Memory Making Mom's place, you will not be disappointed at all. And then take a cruise over to her Etsy shoppe...just too cute for words!


Next, my little violet is blooming (usually under a cage to keep it from being eaten by my cat) for the first time since she came to live with me. The name of this darling is IsaBelle and is part of the Southern Belle Series. Just before the blossoms open they look like tiny, pink bells. How cute is that?

This little tweetie-pie was a gift from a dear, blogging friend, Claudie, over at Bubblin' Over. You just have to love a birdie who takes the time to curl her feathers before someone takes her photo! Claudie took a break from blogging for a while but, happily, she's back. (Missed you, Claudie!)


Last, but certainly not least, is my sweetie egg! I found this at Goodwill Industries about a month ago. At first it held pink foil-wrapped, chocolate eggs but then they all got eaten up by me, the grandsons and my son and his wife, so I had to come up with something to fill it that made me happy. I used some aqua and pink paper shred and a little, pink chick that...if you hold it...you can hear it peep-peep-peep! I love it and so does my grandson, Ben. Whenever he drops by with his parents he wants to hold it to hear the little bird tweet.

I've been saving something really cool since I began to participate in Pink Saturday, but I think that next week, I''ll share. You will be surprised and you will be shocked and you will think to yourself, I need to show this to my hubby, bet we can make one of these!
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Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Create something (or someone) remarkable...

When I read the little quote above I sat back in my chair and thought: "What have I created that is remarkable?" The first image that came to me was my grand-daughter, Rachel. Just knowing that I played a small part in her creation through my son, David, lifts my heart and soul to heights that cannot be imagined by those who don't have grandchildren. Rachel is just as sweet as she is pretty...just as beautiful inside as she is on the outside. She knows how to enjoy life and to show it, too, especially when she has a sugared donut in each hand.

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Monday, March 16, 2009

~Saint Patrick's Breastplate Prayer~

To me this is one of the most beautiful and spiritual prayers written by the hand of man, especially when it is prayed aloud with conviction of heart and spirit, braveness of the soul and a firm belief that God is in every cell of our being. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy saying it each day.

This prayer is often called
"St. Patrick's Breastplate" because of those parts of it which seek God's protection. It is also sometimes called "The Deer's Cry"
or "The Lorica".

Saint Patrick's "Breastplate" Prayer

I arise today
Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
Through the belief in the threeness,
Through the confession of the oneness
Of the Creator of Creation.

I arise today
Through the strength of Christ's birth with his baptism,
Through the strength of his crucifixion with his burial,
Through the strength of his resurrection with his ascension,
Through the strength of his descent for the Judgment Day.

I arise today
Through the strength of the love of Cherubim,
In obedience of angels,
In the service of archangels,
In hope of resurrection to meet with reward,
In prayers of patriarchs,
In predictions of prophets,
In preaching of apostles,
In faith of confessors,
In innocence of holy virgins,
In deeds of righteous men.

I arise today
Through the strength of heaven:
Light of sun,
Radiance of moon,
Splendor of fire,
Speed of lightning,
Swiftness of wind,
Depth of sea,
Stability of earth,
Firmness of rock.

I arise today
Through God's strength to pilot me:
God's might to uphold me,
God's wisdom to guide me,
God's eye to look before me,
God's ear to hear me,
God's word to speak for me,
God's hand to guard me,
God's way to lie before me,
God's shield to protect me,
God's host to save me
From snares of demons,
From temptations of vices,
From everyone who shall wish me ill,
Afar and anear,
Alone and in multitude.

I summon today all these powers between me and those evils,
Against every cruel merciless power that may oppose my body and soul,
Against incantations of false prophets,
Against black laws of pagandom
Against false laws of heretics,
Against craft of idolatry,
Against spells of witches and smiths and wizards,
Against every knowledge that corrupts man's body and soul.

Christ to shield me today
Against poison, against burning,
Against drowning, against wounding,
So that there may come to me abundance of reward.
Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me,
Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ on my right, Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down, Christ when I sit down, Christ when I arise,
Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me,
Christ in every eye that sees me,
Christ in every ear that hears me.

I arise today
Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
Through belief in the threeness,
Through confession of the oneness,
Of the Creator of Creation.

Happy Saint Patrick's Day everyone!

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My dream for a better tomorrow...

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I dream of a better tomorrow
Where little chicks can cross roads
And not have their motives questioned.

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Sunday, March 15, 2009

So many patterns & recipes & blogs & bookmarks and so few friends & relatives & strangers...

After a fast-paced Saturday morning spent feverishly celebrating PINK SATURDAY (see below), prefaced by a Friday evening taking photos and thinking of witty, little things to say in my blog post, I generally spend Sunday morning at the kitchen table with my laptop reading and visiting and browsing and saving pages that I just can't bare to lose under any circumstances, you know what I mean? Sure you do, yes, I'm sure you do, after all, you're reading this, aren't you?

Just as I was "bookmarking" something I just HAD to remember or to keep or to make or to further think about, it hit me: "Will I ever live long enough to make all of the lovely, artistic, artsy-fartsy things "adornments" saved in my computer and in my files and in boxes and in drawers and...well, all over the place?" Even if I live to be as old as Methuselah...will that be enough time...really? Not to mention the cost of materials for making all of those Sugar Plums that stumble dance through my head at various times during the day. Now that Bernie Madoll is in the pokey, I don't think I'll ever be able to get him to tell where he put all of the billions I gave to him to invest. At least three to four million was set aside for crafts...sigh. It is clear to me, with his incarceration, that I just might have to do all of my creating with what I have stashed around this house or with the money I make at summer garage sales selling off my clothes and furniture so I can buy more supplies to feed my OC obsession creative pursuit.

And, there is the time to think about...the time spent making all of those wonderful, adorable, darling, precious goodies. There are only so many hours in my day to sit and to make or to glue or to paint or to sew or to cut. Once those goodies are completed, do I know enough people to "gift" them to or have enough family members who would like more homemade "thingies" from Mimi? Uhm, I've really piled those folks high with cute stuff over the years, not to mention the three to five crocheted or knitted afghans and sweaters and slippers and scarves and potholders and stuffies I've forced on them blessed them with either since they were born or graduated or had a birthday or married into the family!

I'm not even bringing into the equation all of the recipes that I've collected and arranged or computerized and put into the "must bake or cook or grill" compartment in my brain. Looking back, I should have had dozens more children to feed on Sunday when we gather 'round the table for a feast to bless after Sunday church service. At least then, I would have had more bodies to force on share all my containers filled with delicious left-overs culinary delight as they stumbled walked out the door with their pants unzipped...mumbling to their spouse, "Why did you answer the phone? We have caller ID for crying out loud!"

Is there enough time, really, to make and bake and give everything that nurtures my compulsive God-given talent and pushy generous personality? Oh, who knows and who cares! I live in a town where winter lasts longer than it should. During snow-storms, with wind-chill temps hovering around -42, I am doubly warmed as I sit in the family room by the fireplace thumbing through my recipes and patterns, picking out one or two out of the millions I've collected since I was approved for holding scissors by my mother. I clutch the selections to my breast as I make mental illness note of who will be blessed with the newest creation to flow from my insanity fingertips...wondering why my sister only gave me her phone number when she moved to California fifteen years ago.
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Photos of craft center and spices courtesty of MarthaStewart.com