Archive for the tag “chickens”

love & marriage

loving:

fresh eggs. butter colored cotton fabric. making my own wonky slip cover.

the result being a chair that looks like sunshine.

roses. balloons and eating dinner out “with a man who still makes me shiver” for our ten-year anniversary.

life is certainly not all roses and sunshine here all of the time.

or even most of the time.

but just for tonite let’s pretend.

because i can’t stop looking at that chair.

or enjoying(?) the gentle(?) rhythym of his snoring.

a sound that makes me sure he’s here.

after many. many. years. 

so raise a glass with me.

to love and marriage.

and yellow cotton.

happy week-ending friends.

what are you love-ing?

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summer goodness

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cold vanilla cream soda

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dirty faces

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water balloon fights

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eating outside

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nesting boxes

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big, shady trees

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visits from a familiar friend

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a place for warm tortillas

on creativity

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my tools

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yum! bubblegum pink

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our first egg ever!

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oohing and ahhing...

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egg art

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old lace and new pillow cases

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finished pillow cases

 

“to be creative is to be like God. To know how to take the things God has created and extend them further in acts of our own creating, to search out in one’s head an idea, and work over it with a mind and hands, selecting this, combining it with that, cutting away, discarding, adding, fitting and finally bringing forth something new-this is how we are made to be creators like our Father.”

~excerpt from We and Our Children, Molding the Child in Christian Living

***

finding the time to do some mama creative things during these extremely hot days isn’t easy. most of my activities revolve around keeping 4 children of such varied ages-busy. and alive. especially since the bickering seems to increase with the temperature. away from the television. and even finding things for them to do that keep them out of my hair for a while.

i cannot believe what an event the first egg was! here i was thinking i was the creative one today, getting two projects off my to do list completed. all along those chickens far outdid me! the kids were so enthralled at the discovery of this one precious egg. we were rather busy for quite some time. guessing who the lucky girl was that laid the masterpiece. discussing nesting boxes and plans on expanding the coop. there was even a hushed discussion as to who was going to be the lucky person to eat this first of many. middle son, in a hushed voice, noted that this was different because the ones that come from the store are already in a package, we don’t know the chickens. but this. this is OUR egg.

so i know i wasn’t supposed to move it. my hubby is an expert ya know. he lived with his grandmother one summer and apparently he learned all the tricks of the raising chickens trade. but that egg was too precious to us to be left out there with all those ladies. they step so carelessly on each other, in their water and food. that egg would’ve been scrambled for sure!

anyway, i did manage these two projects today, along with a thorough dining room, front room and girl room cleaning. tomorrow it’ll be the kitchen, bathrooms, and my room. wednesday the boys’ rooms and the loft and upstairs closets. although the loft will probably take me into friday. but it is time. after all we have been here since june. school will be starting before i know it. and we need a place to learn. and create. and play. an organized space close to the computer for the teen. space for the kindergartner. and a table for the middles.

well, hope you are finding ways to keep cool and be a little bit creative! i don’t know what other projects i’ll be able to squeeze in. especially since coconut kisses and chocolate chip cookies are somewhere in our plans this week. and for some reason things like that make me tired in this heat. can somebody tell my kids baking isn’t even legal when it’s 113 degrees outside? geesh.

ps. with regards to the corn tortillas, yes, they were good. a little salty. but i served them kind of like tostadas with a scoop of turkey chili beans, sour cream, lettuce and cheese on top.

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