I loves me some burlap.

Way back before I was the happening chick I am today, my typical Friday night was spent with Donny and Marie, Gopher and Capt. Stubing, and Mr. Rourke and Tatoo. One episode of Fantasy Island stands out still today. The one where a designer had to make a winning outfit using both silk and burlap. At the time, of course, I didn't know what burlap even was. But I did know enough to realize that it was supposed to be hard for her to win with these textiles. (Truthfully, I didn't use the word textiles then. I just think it makes me sound intelligent, so I throw it around when I can.) And now that I'm a trifle smarter than a 5th grader, I recognize fully how tricky burlap can be. 

So, when I was blog surfing this morning and I came across a post about handmade curtains made of burlap and ball fringe - with a picture, I told myself that I could so do that. The final push over the edge into doing it: burlap is a whopping $2.99 a yard at JoAnn's! That's so darn cheap I could make curtains for my whole neighborhood. But I probably won't. 

So, after an incredible workout at karate, the Benj and I picked up a happy meal and ate in the parking lot at JoAnn's. I couldn't wait for him to down that last nugget so we could go inside and I could feel up the burlap. 10 yards of the stuff and 18 yards of black ball fringe later, + 100 mini glue sticks and the latest issue of Family Fun magazine, we came home and I set to work. 

It took me a little over an hour to cut and hot glue my 4 sets of window mistreatments and hang them up. (Those sweet ladies at JoAnn's asked me what I was gonna do with all this fabric. I told them. And I blurted out the part about the hot glue gun, too. I just couldn't quit talking about these darn curtains! I don't think they thought this was gonna work, judging by the reactions. But I swore that it would because the Nester did it, and she swears by her hot glue gun. Now, I couldn't be more proud. It's as if I birthed these babies myself. The two back windows have pairs of tiebacks on them while the two narrower side windows have just one panel each. Actually, they're not tied back, but held back by those metal thingies you can buy and screw into your walls. The best part of this whole shebang is the black ball fringe. It's become my new very favorite thing. I'm so glad I have leftovers so I can use it in a future project!

While I'm on a roll with the camera, I took some shots of my Nester-inspired ripped fabric boa thing. I forgot the name of it, but I hung mine over the tiny square window in our bathroom. It's a bit strange, I grant you that. But I like it OK. I hung some vintage paper-covered chipboard butterflies and flowers from it because, well, I made them and had to do something with them. This may or may not live here forever. I'm not wild about the colors against the sage walls, and think I should use more variety in the fabrics. But for now, at least it's done. 

The other is a 20x16 collage of vintage text book papers, paint, scrapbook papers, buttons, and fabric. This was totally inspired by Alexa Lett's blog. Her collage art is amazing and I come away inspired to create something every time I go there. I had so much fun making this. Ripping old pages out of a book and gluing them down. Slapping paint and paper together. I think I'm feeling an artsy summer coming on.

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

Well, thanks to my happy mac, I just made a fifteen minute imovie of every single kid in my school for chapel next Tuesday. Daggone, I feel a bit like Stephen Spielberg. Wish you could see it, but you'll just have to show up for chapel when 1st grade is in charge. 

"For you created my 

inmost being; 

you knit me 

together in my 

mother's womb. 

I praise you because 

I am 

fearfully and 

wonderfully made; 

your works are 

wonderful, 

I know that full well. 

My frame was not 

hidden from 

you 

when I was made in the 

secret place. 

When I was 

woven together in the 

depths of the earth, 

your eyes saw my unformed body. 

All the days ordained for me were
written in your 

book before 

one of them 

came to be." 

~ Psalm 139:13-16

Thank you, Mom and Dad, for helping me on my way to become what God has planned for me.

Happy Mother's Day to all the moms!

My day was spent scrapbooking. I consider that being spoiled rotten, by the way.
I was so freakin' creative today that I completed not one, not two, but a whopping three (3) (TRES) projects! I only took pictures of two (2) (DOS) of them, though. I'm not that with-it.

I finished a rag ribbon garland and hung it in the bathroom above the tiny square window. This came right from The Nester. She has the most amazing blog. I check it every night feeling like I'm seriously missing out on some sort of home improvement idea that I could totally do myself. I did make my window mistreatments with a hot glue gun and her advice, afterall. I had the rag thing done last week, after a night of tying and tying and tying and TYING strips of rags, but I added some butterfly and flower chipboard pieces to it to jazz it up a bit. These I had made a month ago, but had forgotten all about until I opened my scrap closet and voila, there they were! The chipboard pieces even had some cool vintage glitter stuff on them. I'll have to take a picture tomorrow because this is just way too hard to explain at this late hour.

I also put together a banner from my last Jenny Bowlin Studios project kit. I just love these kits. She has the most awesome combinations of vintage junque (don't you love that? JUNQUE???) and cool new product. The banner starts with a pic of me and Mom when I was but a wee babe. Then there is a pic of me and Curt and Ellie way before we ever wanted bambinos of our own, followed by a pic of Camden playing peekaboo with Michelle's Time Out Doll in Florida, a picture of our little family shot at Red Robin here in Greensburg, a picture of Benjy with a fish he caught with his bare hands at the Outer Banks, and ending with a shot of me and Dad when I was a baby again. Not quite chronological, but I thought the beginning and ending being the same was a nice artsy touch.

The big tada was a minibook on brotherhood. Camden and Benjy's specifically. These two amaze me. I've been a mother, a mommy, a mom, a ma'am (on occasion) for nine years now. As I worked on these pages today, I was so taken aback by the play going on between these two. While they are a fresh 5 and aged 8 in age, they play like best friends. Like peers. Camden and Benjy built this amazingly complex playset for their McDonald's Happy Meals Speedracer cars. They had intricate rules over where they cars could eat and entertain and race and celebrate. And they used these amazing voices to portray the different characters they were acting out. So natural. So free. I feel sure Shell and I used to do that with our Barbies. 

(this makes me wonder...of all the money real toys cost, the Star Wars collections, the light sabers, the videos, the costumes, how is it that a Happy Meal toy could generate so much play for pennies???)

Listening to these two made me so happy. So proud to be their momma. I love my boys, and I couldn't imagine not having them in my life. Thanks for making me a Mother, Camden and Benjy. I love you both. I love you more than that.

♥

Check this out:

if I type a special code, I get little hearts on my blog! 

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥
Adorable, huh?
Thanks my very favorite artist Claudine!!!

♥ Wendi

So, I've made a decision. This orange-belt board-breaking bo-staff-twirlin' chica has made a decision. Now, that in and of itself is something. I talked to the Dresklers who own and operate the American Taekwondo Association studio where we attend. That's not the decision. It was easy to decide to talk to them. They're easy to talk to like that. Nope, the decision is to join the leadership/instructor program. I wanna teach those crazy cute kiddling Tiny Tigers! The ones who don't listen very well and who jump like crazy and wave their arms like spiders. Basically, they look a lot like me when I'm at karate, so I figure they're a natural match for my teaching skills. Curt's going in tomorrow to get the whole thing signed up and then I'll get started soon after. The best part: I get a heavy-weight uniform with my name on the back and a stripe on the collar! And to think I was gonna take a Sharpie to the flimsy old uniform I have now. :)

Beautiful Wushu Bo Staff Form

Cast all your anxiety on God because he cares for you.
-- 1 Peter 5:7

That was buried in my inbox when I checked email today. Perfect timing. Nothing much more to say about that.

I picked out my mother's day present Monday. It's the most sparkly gift ever! A gift that is leaps and bounds better than diamonds and gold and spa treatments and even Barnes and Noble gift cards. I'm getting a weapon! It's called a Bo Staff. It's graphite, silver and black, and 5.5 feet tall. Check out this chick:

She's pretty good, huh? Well, I'm gonna take my bo staff out in the back 40 of Casa de Mud and twirl the heck outta that thing. I'm gonna slam it on the ground and spin it over my head and I may even turn a cartwheel just for kicks and giggles. But when the neighbors come out to see what all the shiny sparkle is, I'm gonna hightail it back inside. No sense in making a spectacle of myself.

I hate it when I don't stay caught up on my blogging. Miss a day, and the whole blogging adventure becomes a chore. 

Today I returned to Casa de Madness and did not take a nap. And I am still awake at 7 p.m. tonight. Going strong. So far.

I considered a quick snooze, just one of the new habits I've acquired in my run up to turning 40 this fall. But Curt took Camden to karate so that left me and the Benj at home alone. And it's not a good idea to turn a Benjy loose with the garden hose while no one is watching. He got this cool hose attachment for his birthday last weekend. One of my better ideas, I thought at the time. It transforms a standard garden hose into an amazing and kid-friendly fire hose. If only fire hoses were purple and yellow and green and teal and so darn cute. Anyway, as I sat indoors thinking about dragging out some teaching work, this is what I heard: DARTH VADER! DARTH VADER! You are in big trouble! You are dead! You are sinking! You are gone! And the water, well, it kept running. Gushing. Actually beginning to sound deep. When I peeked over the back porch railing, Benjy was knee-deep in mud-luscious and puddle-wonderful mud. This was absolutely the most perfect thing because I've been simply dying for the chance to use the cute Lynn Grievesen art of ee cummings quote. And while I'm not above staging a photo opp., I am usually just too pooped. And to think, if I'd have had a nap, I'd've missed it all.

This was one of those days when I could not decide what to wear. Now, in the grand scheme of things, it doesn't matter one iota what I choose to where. Unless it's chapel day. Then it matters a little bit. But for the most part, I really shouldn't care. Except that I'm in the midst of Tae Kwondo-ing my butt off and trying my darndest to lose the 10 pounds I've managed to paste onto my tum and hips since I began working at my school. 

So instead of being stinking cute when I skip to school in the morning, I'm breathless and almost late. Not really late because I am way too OC for that to happen. But I am late by my standards. The kind of late where I trip over Camden and Benjy on the way into my classroom, turn on my computer, input my top secret code, put my V8 and yogurt in the minifridge, stuff my bag under my desk, remind the boys to behave or beware, grab my journal and a pen, then head for the door, turn around and grab my coffee, and finally hightail it to the office for staff devotions. Only then do I sit. 

Wait a minute, you say. That's not being late. Well, I didn't sit down in my comfy blue spinny chair. And I didn't check my lesson plans to even see what on earth I was teaching the youngins today. So it's uncomfortably on time at best.

Today was the National Day of Prayer so the entire school met up at the church parking lot this morning for our opening pledges and prayer. It was cold as kraut, and the rain was nearly upon is. But the spirit of God was there. We stood in a giant circle and had an open-mike prayer time. Seriously, we had a mike. This parking lot is at an intersection and the traffic in the morning can be noisy, so the mike is a necessity. We're a tiny school, but we have a mike. Cool, huh? Children were invited to step up and offer prayers of praise or request as the Holy Spirit prompted them. Camden went twice. Once to pray for a friend who is rude to her parents. Once for Nanna and Grandaddy "who are under stress after my Aunt Shell died. I pray for them to be on top of their stress." Sweet boy. And don't ya know that God answered that prayer lickety-split? We learned early today that Dad's last body scan showed NO CANCER. Praise God! That's exactly what I said when Dad told me! And that's what he said when Mom told him! Praise God. Now, isn't that just the coolest thing to happen on the National Day of Prayer? 

Shortly after Michelle returned from her vacation with Brian, she sent me a link to her Kodak Gallery and all 1104 pictures on it. Bless her heart, she never did figure out how to upload her pictures to individual albums or even how to eliminate doubles. No matter, this seems to be a lasting gift from her that I turn to more nights than not. One of my favorite shots is this one of our family snapped in Virginia last fall when we all gathered for our cousin Tonya's wedding. (Have I mentioned that she was the most gorgeous bride, like a fairy tale princess???) Anyway, I find it impossible to believe that this is the last family photograph we'll have. I catch myself wondering what we would have done differently had we known then that Shell wouldn't be with us into the summer. Then I remember that we didn't know, and so we cannot beat ourselves up and wish "if only." As I tell my firsties at school, I don't play the "what if" game. (Do you know how sidetracked that will get you? It's an incredible tool for kids who would rather build towers with the snap cubes than count them.) So I try to keep my own advice and be grateful for the memories I do have. And they're good. Even the one where my baby sister tricked me into the toybox and slammed the lid shut. "What if you sat in the box and I handed you the toys and you put them back in," she asked. Yeah, what if.

More angels...

Lying in bed last night, saying my prayers, I remembered more angels.

* Joel: my mother-in-law. She also drove in for the funeral. One of the things Joel does best is simply to be there. And she was. Thank you.

* Phyllis and her daughters, Kim and Karen: They came to town, too - for the first time since they moved back when Kim and I were in high school together. Kim, Karen, Michelle and I were inseparable friends growing up, playing tag and school, jumping rope and exploring the woods (which my boys now call "the forest"). Seeing them was just like taking a time machine to the past. Such easy relationships are a blessing for sure.

* Friends of Shell's from Florida: People I'd never met but have heard of over the years came to our tiny hometown to celebrate her life and mourn her loss. I remember Tommy, one of her dearest friends. And Dwayne. Dave and Matt. Nancy. Their presence was a huge comfort, knowing that she touched so many people blessed my heart.

* Brian: Michelle's husband. This man was perfectly suited for my sister. He radiates kindness, joy, and love. And at the lowest of possible moments in life, he continued to shine, a reflection of Michelle's life. Now that's love.

Love

Roses from 1st grade 

I am surrounded by God's love.
In the wake of losing my sister, He has sent his mighty angels to lift me up and keep me going. Angels like...
* Mom and Dad. Together, we hold each other up, cry, remember, and find reasons to laugh every now and then.
* A Gospel reading in church Sunday from John 14. The very same passage that Dad shared with me when we had a rare moment alone to remember Michelle. The same passage that he and Shell had read together just months ago. That was no coincidence. That was a God-wink.
* My class of first graders. After the school's spring concert last night, they quietly gave me this beautiful rose bush in memory of Michelle and a card signed by every single student. How they organized this and got the card signed without my knowing is beyond me. Truly, God can use even the youngest in his service.
* My best friend Jodie. She came to Norton for the funeral, and she only knew Michelle through my stories of home and family. But she came to be with me, to hold me up. You'll never know, Girlfriend, how much your presence and our many phone chats since have helped me out. Heck, remember what I asked you to do when I first saw you... you know, the thing we do when we need cheering up because we're about to cry??? I'll never forget that. Thank you.
* The staff and students at my school. Never have I worked in such a loving, caring, and gentle place. My family has been lifted in prayer since the morning I shared of our loss. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that God is answering their prayers. There's no other way I could be "hanging in there", as I tell others, without the power of prayer.
* Neighbors, Curt's co-workers, friends from my old school in Virginia. Wow. The cards that have arrived here bring me to tears every day when I come home. I am so touched by these.

* The karate students and instructors. First, let me say, I never wanted to take karate in the first place. I just didn't think I could do it. But, then again, I never wanted to be a lifeguard either. Somehow, when pushed, I can get out of my box and actually like it! Well, when Curt and Camden signed me up for a trial at karate, I couldn't exactly turn it down. How rude would that be! Long story short, I love it now. When I'm in class, I'm strong. I can handle what's coming at me. I can defend myself, perform my forms, break boards. Let me tell you, when you need to vent some frustration - anger - breaking a few boards with swift, strong front kicks and a primal yell does the trick. Anyway, I digress. God has placed these friends near me at just the right time. They have been there to do what friends do. They hold me up. They listen. They hug. They offer help and their sympathies. And I accept all of it. And then they hold kick pads and let me go at them, kicking, yelling, and driving them from one side of the room to the other. Thank you.

* Oh, I hope I'm not leaving out any angels. I'm sure I am. I must be. And I'll probably think of them in the middle of the night. Just know that I'm so very thankful.

* Curt. I put him last simply because I want to leave this post with thoughts of him. Thank you, Curt. Thank you for being my best BOY friend. My soul mate. The rock and provider of our family. Michelle always did like you. She never questioned US. She accepted you, loved you, and embraced you from the moment she met you. She could talk to you about our wonderful crazy little family and you always managed to make her feel happy. She had great taste. Curt, You have lifted me in ways unimaginable. Just knowing you were there to make Mom laugh, to talk to Dad in the quiet moments of the late night, to do what you're so darn good at in the bustle of the days. Thank you. I love you. I thank God for you.

The dandelions have been in full face-up-to-the-sun bloom this week. They quite honestly are one of my favorite flowers. No, I'd never get a bouquet of dandelions from a florist. And I don't drink dandelion wine. But Benjy picks these golden flowers for me, as do my first graders. I had a whole pile of wilting dandelions on my desk at school until I broke down and tossed them. 

I even like the dandelion fluff puffballs that come after the golden blooms are gone. I watch children blow the seeds. I watch their stems bend in the wind and the fluff float on the breeze. I watch the new dandelions emerge in the lawn that my dear husband maintains all summer long. And I don't regret a single solitary petal. Go dandelions, go!

tree

tree
Originally uploaded by wendirichert

Here's a digital page I did tonight remembering the significance of the word tree in Shell's and my childhood. Silly, yes, but a fun little memory for me. Just a few weeks ago, she and I giggled about this crazy game we used to play. Thank God for the memories.

I lost my sister last week.

I also lost my dearest friend.

Michelle and I were as different as day and night, as unlikely to be friends as the high school jock and the nerd. 

But we were linked forever by the bond of sisterhood. And thank God, for that made us the most special kind of friends. Sisters.

It's still impossible to believe that my sister isn't here anymore. 

It gives me peace to know that her relationship with Jesus landed here in a new room up in heaven. (See John 14....it's all there.)

Camden says Aunt Shell is sitting on a nice rock up there with Uncle Mitchell, Ellie dog, and the two guppies. The guppies are in a fish bowl. I believe they still need water, even in heaven. 

I'd like to write about some of the memories I have of my sister and me growing up. Yes, we had our moments of disagreement. Our moments even of absolutely despising the other. But in the end, we always managed to find each other on the same side. The side sisters and friends will always come back to. 

We shared a bond of love, friendship, trust, and loyalty.

I love you, Shell.

I miss you.

Trip through the 80s - A Video Compilation

OK, I'm hooked.
I'm skating
at Tucson's
in Norton
zooming down the
concrete floor
while my
Pacman
takes a break
wishing Michael would ask to
skate with me
just
once
then I'm a little
older
not much
but enough to know
that the 80s
are going to pass
and the
90s will give way
and I'll
get over it
and
i
did
:)
(yes, I'm getting hooked on youtube!)

Dallas opening

OK, this will take you back, too.
This makes me think of standing in Grandmomma and Grandaddy's trailer, talking to my cousin Mike about who shot JR. I must have been 10 or something. Not very into the more grown-[up nuances of "Dallas", but definitely into the opening tune. Well, I kinda liked Bobby, too.

TEC- Easy Reader

Oh, the memories.
That's Morgan Freeman, did ya know???

You've just gotta watch this. 

Expect tears.

Have you ever read this book - Big Stone Gap. It's one of my favorites, most probably because it's set in a small town just a short drive down the valley (past the state prison) from my hometown. Well, talking to Dad tonight, I learned that a tornado hit this small southwest Virginia town, creating a 300 yard-wide path of destruction a mile long. I googled it and found this set of photos on Flickr.com. Wow, powerful stuff. More telling than the news channels I found online. Please keep Big Stone Gap in your prayers.

And check this out: I couldn't afford the matching king-size pillow shams to go with my new duvet cover. Sooooooooo I ordered a sheet instead, paired it up with this gorgeously rich and heavenly silk fabric I got super duper cheap at at JoAnn's, and, voila, I made my own! I'm so darned proud of me. :)And I think you should be, too. (Mostly because I just did it. I mean, I didn't put this off. I went to my sewing machine and did it. Right on the spot. Woohoooo!

And finally, happy birthday, Dad! I know this is the best one you've probably ever had, even if you didn't get a new Red Rider BB gun.

This man, this patient, loving, constant, bright-side-of-the-road Dad, went to his ear-nose-and-throat specialist today. While there the good doctor did a scan of his throat. After 6 weeks worth of chemotherapy and radiation that left him drained, severely burned, cranky (but, hey, he has every reason to be, right?! And Dad told me this himself; this is in no way a personal judgment; for the record, he was only cranky to me one time, but who's counting?), unable to eat, and in the worst imaginable pain, Dr. A. peered into his tiny camera lens, walked out of the room, and then returned after a short while that must have seemed like a zillion years. 

Then he beamed. He did not see any cancer. It was gone. 

Praise God. Dad has been on more prayer lists than I can count. Mom, Michelle, and my little family have prayed for him daily. We've prayed for him weekly during devotions at school. Churches here and in Virginia have prayed for this man. 

And God listens. He always listens. We never know how he will act. I don't know why God chose to save this man. I like to think He has more work for Dad here on earth. I like to believe that somebody, somewhere, will be led to Jesus through Dad's healing. All I know is that God knows what He is doing. It doesn't matter if I know or not. For now, all I can do is thank Him. Thank you, God. Thank you for making my Dad whole again. Thank you for giving him hope, relief, LIFE. Thank you for loving him, holding him throughout his treatment, keeping Mom in your loving embrace, and guiding them both every single step of the way.

Dad needs scans of his body every six weeks for the next two years to be considered "cured" or "cancer free". Today's proclamation is early, but it's a bend in the road in the right direction. We'll take it.

Did I mention how very courageous that woman beside this man is? She is. She's my mom. She's the caretaker. The nurse. The worrier. She insists that Dad eat when he doesn't want to. She puts up a brave front when she might otherwise shrink into the bed covers for the day. She loves him. For at least 44 years she's loved him. Yeah, I'm praising God for her, too. I think Dad pulled through this horrible time with her right by her side. Right where she belonged. God brought the two of them together for better or worse, in sickness and in health. They are a testament to the power of love and marriage. Thank you Mom and Dad.