There are three and a half days of school left this year.
Wow.
First grade has FLOWN by. For both Camden and me. I'm getting a bit puddly thinking about losing this year's first graders to second grade. They're a special group - funny, wise, crazy, and they get my jokes! That's a BIG deal, if you know my jokes. (There's a reason my Virginia friends called me Rose - as in "Golden Girls".) Yes, I'm getting kind of sad. I love this bunch of kids. They're truly my FAVORITE class. Ever.

Benjy's preschool graduation was tonight. Well, his graduation from the 3-year-old class to the 4-year-old one. :) I was so proud of this little guy. He clapped, smiled, even hammed it up a bit. He sucked his thumb for good measure. He was adorable. Benjy.

Camden seemed proud. He wore his "wedding suit" despite the 80 degree humid temperature. He seems excited about coming to my school next year. I hope he loves it as much as I do. I pray he grows in his faith as much as I have.

Oh, that reminds me. My friend Sandy sent this to me today. I rarely read forwards. But this one really grabbed me. Read and think.

A young man had been to Wednesday night Bible Study.


The Pastor had shared about listening to God and obeying the Lord's voice.




The young man couldn't help but wonder, "Does God still speak to people?"



After service he went out with some friends for coffee and pie and they discussed the message.


Several different ones talked about how God had led them in different ways.



It was about ten o'clock when the young man started driving home. Sitting in his car, he just began to pray, "God..If you still speak to people speak to me. I will listen. I will do my best to obey."



As he drove down the main street of his town, he had the strangest thought to stop and buy a gallon of milk.

He shook his head and said out loud, "God is that you?" He didn't get a reply and started on toward home.

But again, the thought, buy a gallon of milk.


The young man thought about Samuel and how he didn't recognize the voice of God, and how little Samuel ran to Eli.

"Okay, God, in case that is you, I will buy the milk." It didn't seem like too hard a test of obedience. He could always use the milk. He stopped and purchased the gallon of milk and started off toward home.

As he passed Seventh Street, he again felt the urge, "Turn Down that street."



This is crazy he thought and drove on past the intersection.



Again, he felt that he should turn down Seventh Street.



At the next intersection, he turned back and headed down Seventh.



Half jokingly, he said out loud, "Okay, God, I will".



He drove several blocks, when suddenly, he felt like he should stop. He pulled over to the curb and looked around. He was in semi commercial area of town. It wasn't the best but it wasn't the worst of neighborhoods either. The businesses were closed and most of the houses looked dark like the people were already in bed.

Again, he sensed something, "Go and give the milk to the people in the house across the street." The young man looked at the house. It was dark and it looked like the people were either gone or they were already asleep. He started to open the door and then sat back in the car seat.


"Lord, this is insane. Those people are asleep and if I wake them up, they are going to be mad and I will look stupid." Again, he felt like he should go and give the milk.


Finally, he opened the door, "Okay God, if this is you, I will go to the door and I will give them the milk. If you want me to look like a crazy person, okay. I want to be obedient. I guess that will count for something but if they don't answer right away, I am out of here."


He walked across the street and rang the bell. He could hear some noise inside. A man's voice yelled out, "Who is it? What do you want?" Then the door opened before the young man could get away.

The man was standing there in his jeans and T-shirt. He looked like he Just got out of bed. He had a strange look on his face and he didn't seem too happy to have some stranger standing on his doorstep. "What is it?"

The young man thrust out the gallon of milk, "Here, I brought this to you." The man took the milk and rushed down a hallway.

Then from down the hall came a woman carrying the milk toward the kitchen. The man was following her holding a baby. The baby was crying. The man had tears streaming down his face.


The man began speaking and half crying, "We were just praying. We had some big bills this month and we ran out of money. We didn't have any milk for our baby. I was just praying and asking God to show me how to get some milk."

His wife in the kitchen yelled out, "I ask him to send an Angel with some. Are you an Angel?"


The young man reached into his wallet and pulled out all the money he had on him and put in the man's hand. He turned and walked back toward his car and the tears were streaming down his face.

He knew that God still answers prayers.



This is so true. Sometimes it's the simplest things that God asks us to do that causes us to be happy, if we are obedient to what He's asking for us to do. we are to be able to hear His voice more clearer than ever if we just listen. Please listen and obey He will bless you (and the world) as the young man who followed his call. Phil 4:13

Things that have blessed me this week:
* Benjy being four years old. Wow.
* sunshine and sitting on the back porch
* a boss who lets me drive all the way back home to retrieve an upset little boy's backpack because he really NEEDED his Star Wars Guys
* Camden's draft of a letter to his karate instructor asking to be on a special team in class
* Curt's safe arrival back home to us
* My Sister's Keeper by Jodi Picoult
* losing 4 pounds

Grandmomma Gibson taught me how to crochet when I was a tweenager. She would drink her umpteenth cup of coffee while I nibbled on Peppermint Patties swiped from her covered crystal candy dish. Her cigarette would lay smoking on the edge of her crystal ashtray. I swear that thing must have been as big as a dinner plate. We'd rummage through her stash of yarns, taking forever to choose the perfect colors for our newest projects. I always chose some multicolored skein because I thought it was just so fancy. The colors didn't matter; it was just the way that they blended from one color smoothly into another that spoke to my heart.

Grandmomma taught me how to crochet a chain, loop its ends together and make circles and granny squares out of that. She taught me how to make a really long chain and then go back and forth across it stitching rows and rows and rows. I could make straight rows and curvy rows and even eye-pleasing nice and graphic zig zag rows. Grandmomma taught me all of that. I made lots of granny squares when I was younger. I almost made an afghan once. Or twice. Every now and then as I grew up, I picked up my size G crochet needle (the very same pink metal one Grandmomma bought me) and began a new project, only to grow impatient with it and put it down, misplace it, and then forget all about it for years and years and years.

Recently I spotted this rag rug tutorial over on Craftzine's blog. I fell in love with this rug and had to have one for myself. Now I knew positively why I have been saving old pajama bottoms, shirts and pants I could never, ever part with. (The cooler the fabric, the more convinced I was that I could do something with it some day.) On Saturday I went to JoAnn's and bought myself a size Q crochet needle then came home and cut up my old raggedy clothes. As I wound the strips of cloth into balls I remembered Grandmomma teaching me how to do this with yarn. I was always fascinated with how quickly the balls of fibers grew as I wrapped and wrapped and wrapped the string.

By evening, I began my rug. The tutorial mentioned using a single stitch. Grandmomma didn't give her stitches names. She taught me a chain and some complex set of ins and outs that made one giant stitch. I have no idea what it's called, but I chose to use that one in my rug. It's only as big as a chair pad right now, but it's a perfect oval in shades of lilacs, peaches, yellows and pinks. I think the pinks are the same shade as her eyeglasses. Grandmomma would be so proud.

When this rug is finally finished (hopefully before this time next year) I'll put it in my bathroom, where the evening sun washes the walls in its brilliant light. I am convinced that this project is my next BIG ART THING. What scrapbooking was a few years ago, this rug is now. I'm not fooling myself. I know I won't crochet for the rest of my days. Probably just every now and then until I'm sitting in an old folk's home waiting for Camden to bring me a smile of Benjy to plant a blueberry kiss on my cheek. I know I won't forget how to stitch across the rows or around the granny square. I'll be making these moves with my hands long after I've lost my memory for what I had for breakfast. While I may lose my passion for it in the years ahead. I'll never forget this gift from Dad's mom. Thanks, Grandmomma.

The Hokie Nation

I can't tear myself away from the TV news. CNN, Fox, NBC, whatever channel is covering Virginia Tech. Whichever talking head is there, on the campus when I turn on the TV or turn from a commercial. If I'm not watching television, I'm at roanoke.com or planetblacksburg.com or all over the web searching for Nikki Giovanni's closing remarks from Tuesday's convocation. I am on overload.

Yesterday I came home, exhausted from our longest day of standardized testing. I crashed on the couch with the remote control in my hand and a heating pad on my back. I watched until I was saturated with the news, with the names of the victims and the face of the shooter, the images of mourning, praying, questioning, chaos. I had to go to bed to put an end to the loop of the latest news running on the back of my eyelids. Then I felt so horrible for those for whom the loop will never stop. I just want to be there. I want to be home.

Curt and I miss Roanoke right now. We're incredibly homesick. We see pictures of places we've been, addresses we know, even a reporter from The Ronaoke Times who was visible on network news footage of a press conference. We see traffic moving along US 460, a glimpse of the familiar limestone buildings of the VT campus, and the familiar of clashing colors of orange and maroon. We see home.

I'd feel powerless if I didn't believe so strongly in the power of prayer. So I pray fervently. I thank God for Virginia Tech, for the students and staff who made it and for the lives of those who did not. I thank God for the prayer vigils, for the spontaneous recitation of The Lord's Prayer at the convocation and for "Amazing Grace" sung at one of the vigils. I thank Him for the doctors and staff in the hospital on that horrific day, for ministers striving to reach out to a community in shock and in mourning. I thank Him for hope.

And I send my petitions, too. I ask for peace for the victims, peace for the students and staff and faculty. Peace for a campus and small town that is supposed to host these crowds only for football games. I pray for wisdom for university leaders and police officers and restraint for the media that they maintain the dignity of all. I pray for a great revival to come where the name of Jesus Christ will lift us all in the hope and belief that we will, in the words of Giovanni, prevail.

Go Hokies.

I came home from Curves tonight to find The Boy In The Wedding Suit hanging out in the basement. So cute how he just LIVES in this. We discovered that the stitched pockets are not pockets after all. There is an inside breast pocket, though. So all is not lost.

Here's a poem for ya, inspired by one of our Saturday errands -

Sam's Club Haiku

Tall shelves fill warehouse
space. Oh the humanity!
Help me leave this place.

The Wedding Suit

I think Camden has been in love with the idea of a fancy dinner and a fancy suit since he was two and fell in love with Belle from Beauty and the Beast. Many times through the years he's asked for a "wedding suit". And many times I've told him, "some day". We're not fancy folks. We don't wear wedding suits. Or suits. And rarely even blazers. We go to church in cords in the winter and polos in the summer. Simple, really. No need to fuss with fancy clothes.

Today in Kohls, Curt found a steal on a nice sport coat. For the first year in his entire life, he actually thinks about what he wears to work. Must be the higher-ups or something. He talks about textures now and variety and color and weave. I don't think he'd be caught dead in the cowboy boots he wore to our own wedding nearly 15 years ago. Camden was with Curt when this bargain leaped from the hanger to their hands. So of course, Camden remembered his need for a wedding suit of his own. Who could say no to that when Dad was getting one, too? (Well, the top half of a suit anyway.) In the kids' section, we found the perfect size 8. Then we found a white shirt with clip-on tie to wear underneath it. I tried to talk him into the nice blue shirt with cool tie. Or the pink one. But he wanted white. (Didn't the Beast wear a white shirt beneath his wedding suit???)

As soon as we got home, Camden tried on his wedding suit jacket and sat down to play a bit of his Playstation Star Wars game. I swear, I think it gave him magic powers. He later took it off and lovingly hung it on its hanger, never letting it out of his sight. For dinner he donned his shirt, tie, and the jacket and asked if we could all have a fancy dinner. He asked Curt to light the candles while he wrapped the utensils in cloth napkins. He showed Benjy, Curt and me where to sit and didn't even comment on our inappropriate attire. He asked all about good manners and weddings and kings and queens. When I told him my cousin was getting married in Virginia this summer he nearly fell out of his seat. He can't wait to wear his wedding suit to a real wedding. Bless his heart. I hope he hasn't worn it out by then.

One of the notes the Easter Bunny put in the eggs marking a trail from the bedrooms to the basement where the Easter baskets were hidden last week.

This was a fun little exercise (and easier than running). Copy and paste it to your blog, and then substitute ONE WORD ANSWERS for mine. Makes you kinda think. A good exercise for early Saturday morning. :)

Your weekend: snow
Smelling: coffee
Annoyed by: snow
Your face: glasses
Your pants: flannel
Something you want to create: collage
A favorite old movie star: Walter
Not looking forward to: snow
Hearing: HGTV
Wish you could: sew
Last thing you cooked: ravioli
Your breakfast: banana
Your driving record: clean
Last illness: cold
Wants to be: crafty
Mind keeps wandering to: summer
You despise: deceit
Unprepared for: Emma
Favorite part of spring: lilacs
Your toenails: short
Proud of your: sons
Not proud of your: tummy
How you decompress: craft
Your kitchen table: clean
Something you want to accomplish today: library

Aunt Sandy sent me this lady's name. Oh my gosh. It's the funniest thing I've heard!!!


Yes, this is the lazy way to blog these days. But hey, I'm lazy.

More this weekend.

Ooops, forgot about this one. This cracked me up.
Can you tell it's a YouTube night???

Can't get enough of my The Office fix. This sums it up nicely:

Inspired by

Elsie Flanagan's recent posts, I became turned onto ugly dolls and convinced I cold make one. Camden, Benjy and I headed out to JoAnn's today to buy our felt and a few goodies to use in putting ours together.
Their ugly dolls turned out way more fun than mine, causing me to think that my children are way more creative than me. Granted, I did the bulk of cutting and sewing, but the boys told me exactly what to do. Hence, Soldier Boy Captain Camden and Yoda With Purple Eyebrows. Each has a cape with the boys' initial on the back. Camden loved his. Benjy hasn't seen his B yet. He was sound asleep when I got that wild-hair idea. Hope he loves it in the morning.
I dared to mention to Benjy that Yoda looked silly with purple eyebrows and he indignantly scolded me, "YODA - IS - NOT - SILLY - MOM!"

On Tuesday Camden earned his camo belt.
On Wednesday Curt earned his purple belt.
(The purple belt, by the way, is my favorite of the Tae Kwondo belts. It's a vibrant, deep purple that just makes you happy.)
On Thursday, I upload the pictures of Camden's testing.
Here ya go. It's almost like you're there.

And here's what Benjy did while we cheered Camden on.

Next to Ellie (and, well, Emma), my favorite animal in God's entire creation is the polar bear. So when we saw them up close and personal today at the Pittsburgh Zoo and PPG Aquarium, I was completely and totally launched into my happy place. These creatures are amazingly beautiful and graceful, playful and fun. Not scary as a black bear may appear or unreal as the pink flamingo is. I felt almost guilty for hogging the viewing window as long as I did while children shoved around me waiting their turn. (My ticket cost more than theirs, right?????)

Dear Friends and Family,

My dad loves me the most, I think. He is the one who makes sure my bowls are filled. I have three bowls. One is filled with clean water. Usually. The second is filled with dry food. (uck) And the third is filled with wet food each morning by my favorite person, Dad. I am pretty certain that he isn't giving me the contaminated dog food. At any rate, I'm eating slowly and making sure that my tummy feels settled before venturing another bite. That dad. He's the best person in the world.

I just have to tell you how peaceful it is around here while my people are away. I have the whole house to myself. I sleep. I drink water. I watch the garbage truck on Mondays and the rural mail man each afternoon. I sleep. I sometimes pee on the carpets. The people don't like that. But what's a dog to do? It's not like they're clever enough to put in a doggy door for me. I also listen to Maggie next door. She barks a lot. I don't understand senseless barking. Barking for food, now that is a reasonable thing. But barking just because somebody walks by? Well, that's a waste of precious sleep time.

My people are happy to see me when they come home. I'm usually sleeping, so it's a few minutes before I slink down the stairs to greet them. They like it when I come downstairs. Benjy always hugs me. He's a funny little person. Mom? Well, she always opens the back door after rubbing me on the head. Then she tells me......no, she yells at me - "OUT!" It could be because I am rolling onto my back for a good tummy rub. I don't understand why she won't just rub my belly and let me be. Silly woman.

That Camden is an interesting folk. He hugs me. Hard. He's quite a hugger. I think he loves me. He tells me so. But he hugs hard. He goes about life like that though. So I shouldn't be surprised. Camden seems to dive full force into everything he does. He's a passionate person. Like me about sleeping. Yeah. I have a lot in common with that Camden.

Night night,
Emma

I feel like I'm coming down with a new version of the crud. I'm pretty sure it's not the bird flu. I'm thinking it's just spring fever that's got my nose itching and running and my throat itchy and coughing. Yuck.
So, as I lay on the couch trying to nap, Benjy surprises me with these. "I picked these for you, Mom. They're from the backyard. They're from ALL THE BACKYARD." Translation: I picked every daffodil I could find in the backyard for you, Mom, because I love you and I'm just so cute."
I love you, too, Benjy.

With highs in the 70s today, we headed over to my school after church to play. Curt packed up the camping chairs for us and the bikes for the boys. He also tossed in Camden's remote control car, his stilts, Benjy's light saber (which goes everywhere he goes these days) Emma and a bowl for her water. He even surprised the boys with a stop at McDonald's for drinks.

Once there, we threw our paper recycling in the bin there, scoring a double whammy in the do-gooder department since the bin collects a bit of extra money for the academy. Camden thrived on doing "challenges" against the clock from Curt: "Ride your bike all the way to the light pole and back." "Go down every single slide." "Go UP every single slide." When we got home he STILL wanted to do challenges. Nothing wore that child out.




Benjy rode his bike a bit, but his favorite activity was carrying logs half the size of him from a pile on a small hill and rolling them down the hill to splash into the creek below. He did this several times, proud as punch of his strongman abilities.


Here's my latest as yet unfinished piece of something. I downloaded the sheep from google searches and printed them up and collaged them to the canvas I painted a month ago. I think it still needs more barns or houses or something on the hills. What do you think??? It know it's missing something....



And here's my latest in the W collection:
I'm really into the sky/grassy hill and flowers theme. Once I learn how to do something, I usually never quit. :)

It's FRIDAY!!!!!
Just can't wait to sleep in tomorrow. I've done the powerpoint for church so I won't have that on my plate in the morning. I'll head to the craft fair at my school and hopefully get another great deal on Veggie Tales moves for the boys. They LOVE those things! And I think I'll spend some time CREATING. I've been running on empty in that department for a bit. I need to finish up a collage I started more than a month ago. And I really want to print some pictures and scrap them. More than anything, I'm searching for something else to do. Something with paint and canvas and paper and buttons. Yeah. That sounds about right. More tomorrow if it's been a creative day.