Getting things done

There are not before pictures but this is what it looks like now.


I tried to find a solution to targeted mess/problem areas.
Coat closet fix: another organizer.



Living room was dark and uninviting.
Fix: a hanging lamp from Ikea for 12.00 and hanging my favorite quilt on the wall for some color.
It was free also- I stole it from my Mom,
who got it from my Aunt Brenda,
who got it from the animal shelter, who got it from a donation from someone who thought it would make good kennel bedding.

New curtains also free but I had not hung them because they need a room darkening backing, tired of waiting I put them over the old green ones with clothes pins.
It makes me feel better, and after all that is what matters most in decorating.

Devonae's desk was cluttered with school books and papers. Simple fix a magazine holder to put them in when she is not using them.

Jesse's desk was worse but a couple of magazine boxes quickly store his clutter where it is out of my sight but in his reach.

Fluffing my Nest

Since my sister is getting ready to fly away to Ecuador I figure I will be spending more time at my computer. For the next two years till she migrates back blogging and Skype are how we will be keeping in touch.

So I decided to touch up my computer area with a bit of art.

The additions are free.

The pictures were intended to be in color and may be someday soon but my printer won the battle of the ink.








I had the letter stickers and scrapbook paper in my craft closet and the painters tape in the garage.

The art is from http://indiefixx.com/Feed_your_soul/index.html

Here is a not so widely known fact: Becka collected birds when she was younger.

Dance Recital

When: last month
Theme: Who-ville
Why now? because I am a procrastinator that is why.






So why the stark background and the costume disarray?

Well did I mention a procrastinator earlier?
I put off getting new batteries in the camera until the last minute and then wardrobe malfunctions occupied me till the last minute so I had to toss the task to my sometimes reliable procrastinator-in-chief.

Batteries seemed like his kind of thing but in retrospect I should of had him braid hair on a wire while I did the batteries.

So we arrive and the recital begins, the camera turns on them shuts down. I turn to my partner and ask the obvious question with the also obvious answer.

"Did you get new batteries for the camera?"
"No"
Followed by either "I did not know it needed new batteries", or " I thought you did".

At this late date I can't remember which it was. Perhaps I should take a poll to determine the historical fact so that it can be recorded properly.

So there were no pictures or videos of the recital or the charming background.

You will have to live with the mugshot like post-recital photos in my kitchen.

Happy Birthday and other thoughts

Happy Birthday Weston.
I missed being at your entrance.
I have missed every birthday since.
But I love you and think about you on your special day even if I can't be there.

Oh by the way thanks for sharing your day with Elli.
She is 5 now. She had a birthday she says. Weston's.

5 is now her lucky number.



Now on to "what is in a name".

So I was holding it together at the commissioning service for my Sister and her family, who are leaving in a few weeks for Ecuador, just fine until a name broke down my walls of emotional restraint.

I have pretty tough walls too.

So when Dustan's Dad was laying hands on the family and talking to God he called his son "Dusty".
I have heard him called this before but the way it was said, who it was said to, and the context it was said in, that tore me up.

Who knew "Dusty" was the weak link in my wall.

So what I heard was a Daddy praying and giving his little boy into the hands of God.
Dustan was not a man in his father's eyes at that moment...
he was young...
about Weston's age...
or perhaps little Samuel in the Bible.


I guess you can say it was the picture of the immense love of a father for his child that moved me so.


So "Dusty" if you read this in a way it was you, not Becka, that broke me down to crying in public.

I am pretty sure that what I saw and heard was the way it was seen from heaven.