tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-43428947523169423432024-03-04T21:58:45.325-08:00Sort and PolishGlendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06694325453181600223noreply@blogger.comBlogger1483125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4342894752316942343.post-64856637503742847602024-02-06T08:02:00.000-08:002024-02-19T08:06:26.094-08:00Kindred<p>I had expected time to trickle slowly by so arrived armed with a crochet hook and a ball of yarn. I took a seat and when I had exhausted the reading material on the walls and my inner conversation ground to a halt, I plucked my yarn and hook out of my bag and began to crochet. There was a steady hum of activity all around as the door opened and closed and people came and went, came and went and I crocheted on. An elderly woman entered the room and sat beside me. She watched my fingers moving and my hook flashing. She reached out and squeezed the ball of yarn. I held up my project and said, “it’s a granny square. “. And then added, “and I’M a granny!” I don’t know if she understood my words but her eyes seemed to suddenly sparkle with something….courage perhaps, because she reached over and took the crocheting from my hands, yarn, hook and all and began to feverishly crochet. It seemed as though the waiting room inhaled in unison. “One, one?” She asked. “Yes,” I said nodding and holding up one finger. “One stitch between, two here. Two at the corner.” </p><p>“Good, good?”she asked holding the crocheting up for my approval. “Oh yes, very good,” I agreed. </p><p>She handed back the granny square and I showed her pictures on my phone of a baby quilt I had recently finished. And some crocheted purses. And my husband carving. She pointed to her foot and cradled an imaginary baby. Baby booties! “No,” I admitted. No baby booties yet. </p><p>Aren’t kindred spirits a wonder? </p>Glendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06694325453181600223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4342894752316942343.post-60366719368081372722024-01-26T16:28:00.000-08:002024-01-26T16:28:03.415-08:00Poor guy<p>Do you think Santa is out of sorts in January? You know, overtired, discouraged by commercialism, strained back….</p><p>I’m only asking because I think I saw him shopping with Mrs Claus today at Freshco and he was pretty grouchy. He kind of cheered me up (just as you would expect Santa to) Here was someone shopping who was feeling grouchier than me. Poor guy. It made me want to go home and bake him a cake. </p>Glendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06694325453181600223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4342894752316942343.post-34320341881823759342024-01-26T16:19:00.000-08:002024-03-01T23:14:43.046-08:00History on rewind<p>Because my husband and I weren’t born yet when What's My Line was a weekly game show, we have been cranking back the hands of time and increasing our knowledge of the 50’s at the same time by watching reruns on YouTube. Isn’t YouTube a boon to mankind? </p><p>The host and panel members of What’s My Line dressed in marvellous specimens of fashions of the decade. Glamorous gowns and beehive hairstyles. Evening suits with bow ties. Even the odd tux. It’s worth watching just to see the fabulous dresses and hair piled high! </p><p>The host was a paragon; articulate and droll, funny and gallant. His name was John Daly (He had four sons all named John! Sort of like Dr Seuss and his Thing One and Thing Two. It’s good they had middle names to fall back on) </p><p>I think while watching, we are learning things we never knew. A variation of educational entertainment and history on rewind. </p><p><br /></p>Glendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06694325453181600223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4342894752316942343.post-79589413980618374372024-01-11T17:41:00.000-08:002024-01-11T17:41:51.995-08:00Up and away<p>I nearly joined Mary Poppins today. As I climbed out of my car, wind instantly inflated my unzipped jacket. I grabbed the top of the door and hung on. Up, up and away. </p>Glendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06694325453181600223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4342894752316942343.post-89156535293472433692024-01-11T06:54:00.000-08:002024-01-11T06:54:51.975-08:00Hot <p> “It’s not HOT hot,” my husband says, handing me a mug of tea. “It’s just hot,” he adds by way of clarifying. </p>Glendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06694325453181600223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4342894752316942343.post-33199637914957715182024-01-08T22:22:00.000-08:002024-01-08T22:22:49.089-08:00Unbelievable <p> I like to plump up three pillows and settle in amongst my quilts like a chicken in a nest box. A ball or two of yarn, a crochet hook and time is my friend. There always comes that jolt back into reality though, whence I bundle up yarn and scissors and stow them away for later. Later is usually the next day, and twice now, as I’ve shaken out my quilt while making the bed in the morning, a crochet hook has appeared before my unbelieving eyes. Whaaaaaaaa??!!</p><p>Today, instead of a crochet hook, the light reflected off of a rather large darning needle giving a fresh take on the old adage, “like finding a needle in a haystack.”</p>Glendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06694325453181600223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4342894752316942343.post-35098353613803809522024-01-01T10:39:00.000-08:002024-01-01T10:41:04.559-08:00three strikes<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9cU7uHr9Qs3zw4yetI35q7u1BV-rZ_izmoi5dNgE9tW0N2iSNoRDCISKDo2xMIe8h3jQwUZRrePCPSi2ds8ht-M0LVG33NmUPzavPeKHycaNz9fIH1qeFmEWzCECN8FJguneLc-LT7ey7m1I16fWgGlUDch6qtptElluW9US1EPKg7m18g4eteoIz9HE/s4032/IMG_4159.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9cU7uHr9Qs3zw4yetI35q7u1BV-rZ_izmoi5dNgE9tW0N2iSNoRDCISKDo2xMIe8h3jQwUZRrePCPSi2ds8ht-M0LVG33NmUPzavPeKHycaNz9fIH1qeFmEWzCECN8FJguneLc-LT7ey7m1I16fWgGlUDch6qtptElluW9US1EPKg7m18g4eteoIz9HE/s320/IMG_4159.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div> </div><div>I needed a little rug for my entryway. I pulled assorted friendly colors to create a giant ball. The plan was to crochet five strands at once and make a lovely, variegated, chunky rug. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBC7xxHkbnKqkKh_EIOfRftNqIBmQF5iv2eFvt2N8JhVBDTy4a7boYU8AlRI2Ps2npwiy6QxC9WVrdByXbaXc6ZOb82ULotGXxEJYMyJQar21CehAbT9gJB37iodjZQ52SHeFlmRps8o_XJxXtO7jDMZEPpOedEzztc1IywfFf1QXYuHK_btE1V134Fio/s4032/IMG_4181.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBC7xxHkbnKqkKh_EIOfRftNqIBmQF5iv2eFvt2N8JhVBDTy4a7boYU8AlRI2Ps2npwiy6QxC9WVrdByXbaXc6ZOb82ULotGXxEJYMyJQar21CehAbT9gJB37iodjZQ52SHeFlmRps8o_XJxXtO7jDMZEPpOedEzztc1IywfFf1QXYuHK_btE1V134Fio/s320/IMG_4181.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><p> </p><p>It was hard on my hands to work with that bulk but it created such a wonderfully thick and cushy feeling underfoot.<br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTTHAOmooTIGp65TRo7ZdTZ9KZNtP2sSPZS_yS7QXrexbyhN4pnsrkCOF1lX3Y0Nt57xPLoRXFcT7tnyqIGTG___fMp44qSPzEcb-LIUcanqs4G7uGyKxYO3y0WQ4LNG_dq2KE-3qoqGc9OPpTqIb3D7OlZInFk4F3GFmyzUIvdnLPvXWe1dr0gdHp7QA/s4032/IMG_4183.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTTHAOmooTIGp65TRo7ZdTZ9KZNtP2sSPZS_yS7QXrexbyhN4pnsrkCOF1lX3Y0Nt57xPLoRXFcT7tnyqIGTG___fMp44qSPzEcb-LIUcanqs4G7uGyKxYO3y0WQ4LNG_dq2KE-3qoqGc9OPpTqIb3D7OlZInFk4F3GFmyzUIvdnLPvXWe1dr0gdHp7QA/s320/IMG_4183.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><p>But alas, when I placed my first quarter done on the floor I found the door would not open over it. Drat? Too thick!<br /> </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDHWAyCU9y9XInVnaejV8Z_-CHWgRYHzqVT79gTU4LwFqSrKhvJMuCMibzalyT5-p1LWv1Uh5GkQjXtAaOL3uZnnKUE9g_v2mo76n_UV7YcpSgUAYu6UdyDJAm29SblBv41xWuwJH-UUfwVyqlzlznHTRai3ECbz10w1KmrW5B4W1uh_hAJw3hEX6EXVs/s4032/IMG_4215.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDHWAyCU9y9XInVnaejV8Z_-CHWgRYHzqVT79gTU4LwFqSrKhvJMuCMibzalyT5-p1LWv1Uh5GkQjXtAaOL3uZnnKUE9g_v2mo76n_UV7YcpSgUAYu6UdyDJAm29SblBv41xWuwJH-UUfwVyqlzlznHTRai3ECbz10w1KmrW5B4W1uh_hAJw3hEX6EXVs/s320/IMG_4215.JPG" width="240" /></a></div> <p></p><p>I pulled from two balls this time and started in again. But this time, the pattern was my undoing. Basket weave is inherently bulky. And thick. Too thick. Drat again!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSdOMe23WHpT1JTSzYvGFUK-HAE3Sm1kAeXvs1YRx0av_jAOTYkOHF-DG2u5GdMloGsOSgQqtBBfAIFK5cgmc0kzOUltuhbfRp47H73F4BcI51u6fHNA6CjHNC6iQmyYYlYcuz7kYtMTjSeO6lL_Tdxugu6SZJs0Is3UNg-x2Mccg8ffdXi3NqiJNb0Yc/s4032/IMG_4207.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSdOMe23WHpT1JTSzYvGFUK-HAE3Sm1kAeXvs1YRx0av_jAOTYkOHF-DG2u5GdMloGsOSgQqtBBfAIFK5cgmc0kzOUltuhbfRp47H73F4BcI51u6fHNA6CjHNC6iQmyYYlYcuz7kYtMTjSeO6lL_Tdxugu6SZJs0Is3UNg-x2Mccg8ffdXi3NqiJNb0Yc/s320/IMG_4207.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><p>I tried again, with two strands and single crochet. But by now my door was wary. It caught the rug here and there. It fretted and fussed. "Three strikes, you're out," I declared to my yarn stash. </p><p>I made tote bags instead.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizoYWSeaQrEUcRzuD1qIO5dTuct-EM5V1wr1hkYI5KwTGQwQEI25nIPAjHF4-PSfwEHKsdDEedWi64QgtvBHAlYVOa6y8giEyaa72X5kVuFgqC2Q9y4BgERpg3In5FTvsCPOGcfyD_vK84Bh6icETQhoZ5dF1asqKpdubMQQX-0VRz5ZZ2ieCWRPeu0uI/s2048/IMG_4665.JPEG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizoYWSeaQrEUcRzuD1qIO5dTuct-EM5V1wr1hkYI5KwTGQwQEI25nIPAjHF4-PSfwEHKsdDEedWi64QgtvBHAlYVOa6y8giEyaa72X5kVuFgqC2Q9y4BgERpg3In5FTvsCPOGcfyD_vK84Bh6icETQhoZ5dF1asqKpdubMQQX-0VRz5ZZ2ieCWRPeu0uI/s320/IMG_4665.JPEG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO1AHSwQuafffZu6zXzPWUmP6Lr1xfK2w83C3jZPB3MzHJUvUwOn9lN_YktWq3rCs_ypc5BM9fmj43SKnpspoACUEy4I4Mrta2ohrsoLBAZ00NUrADDd6ViC2giIzwuVlppJwI3J9AuMjwy3HPm2835nGYCfuzZ_VAjKI7GlxxZUY7GjX1y6rtXW-e3zY/s2048/IMG_4666.JPEG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO1AHSwQuafffZu6zXzPWUmP6Lr1xfK2w83C3jZPB3MzHJUvUwOn9lN_YktWq3rCs_ypc5BM9fmj43SKnpspoACUEy4I4Mrta2ohrsoLBAZ00NUrADDd6ViC2giIzwuVlppJwI3J9AuMjwy3HPm2835nGYCfuzZ_VAjKI7GlxxZUY7GjX1y6rtXW-e3zY/s320/IMG_4666.JPEG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWD9tESa21TVIx_F6qZRMsvZFtQzVUNmR_QhFLKeGOlxxg7c85vJ2Vb22cw5dZ4OS05WpRq0eHB620_IPeevEzslKaS8sd3pKdKIWf36x7W9DIMrM7s35zWy7zPuvii16p8zu7XrHNVLlFRU78NhGLiOCVgqqJqvghlFfOFndkYYGWkHJlXeab7Tp2-OA/s2048/IMG_4667.JPEG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWD9tESa21TVIx_F6qZRMsvZFtQzVUNmR_QhFLKeGOlxxg7c85vJ2Vb22cw5dZ4OS05WpRq0eHB620_IPeevEzslKaS8sd3pKdKIWf36x7W9DIMrM7s35zWy7zPuvii16p8zu7XrHNVLlFRU78NhGLiOCVgqqJqvghlFfOFndkYYGWkHJlXeab7Tp2-OA/s320/IMG_4667.JPEG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqjUnX_u2g2oitotOsjDyzcauSaFMpL38p9n5xlKbYh9BEDRNEauPcxwB0LOs0y6-JGI7qAmTRXTnRL7tE4xpZ0Amr4wgF1xLm4gCJ20fGzW8rnvwJAgvVA9T5bqEixE8UGs3Mrm3rgTLIW2V9fOOr2c7CCuo3bzbx1cfgz3ZXTxjII_YCSid5VuhLxQc/s2048/IMG_4668.JPEG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqjUnX_u2g2oitotOsjDyzcauSaFMpL38p9n5xlKbYh9BEDRNEauPcxwB0LOs0y6-JGI7qAmTRXTnRL7tE4xpZ0Amr4wgF1xLm4gCJ20fGzW8rnvwJAgvVA9T5bqEixE8UGs3Mrm3rgTLIW2V9fOOr2c7CCuo3bzbx1cfgz3ZXTxjII_YCSid5VuhLxQc/s320/IMG_4668.JPEG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_ECTAyP6vuf6Xt809cTmKUgSsachm4ShsCX4xbIbuEiKg0Bcj3OIxUo8rfFxCQHoLkiOoI7mb-khIgF8NReDBEqkVC_fvDeq7bYTBeeqKcOli8OE2CRhkr5Nel_mSf8SoJOa4-Q3UkiBxydDok38c8QSzwBvIS4KvU2pQ4pbDmmFG1sqxoBofEwIJHWs/s2048/IMG_4669.JPEG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_ECTAyP6vuf6Xt809cTmKUgSsachm4ShsCX4xbIbuEiKg0Bcj3OIxUo8rfFxCQHoLkiOoI7mb-khIgF8NReDBEqkVC_fvDeq7bYTBeeqKcOli8OE2CRhkr5Nel_mSf8SoJOa4-Q3UkiBxydDok38c8QSzwBvIS4KvU2pQ4pbDmmFG1sqxoBofEwIJHWs/s320/IMG_4669.JPEG" width="240" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p></p>Glendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06694325453181600223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4342894752316942343.post-56756243210947255562024-01-01T10:15:00.000-08:002024-01-01T10:15:40.169-08:00It is<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCIxYZRWl2SfTy6L174SOByIOqqnjuDFRp7z99YtV9BzT7P2GsmHcRlgD86-WSOSbJapnKsXieTyysXrRCDsWVYQ3s02UJuZhF41sBL3lYniDRU1NbJJHci-jFbtj0zwVmhyGiT8tiqdeMcD07RKPWfUou805yZpY9ioWQLXrQu1vbvJgJvjWoVUcGZlc/s1819/IMG_4547.JPEG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="1819" height="304" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCIxYZRWl2SfTy6L174SOByIOqqnjuDFRp7z99YtV9BzT7P2GsmHcRlgD86-WSOSbJapnKsXieTyysXrRCDsWVYQ3s02UJuZhF41sBL3lYniDRU1NbJJHci-jFbtj0zwVmhyGiT8tiqdeMcD07RKPWfUou805yZpY9ioWQLXrQu1vbvJgJvjWoVUcGZlc/s320/IMG_4547.JPEG" width="320" /></a></div> <p></p><p>My granddaughter showed me a picture of a pink sweater she liked. Isn't it a gift when someone shares with you their likes and dislikes? </p><p>This sweater was a charmer, with clusters of crocheted cherries scattered over it. Isn't a child's wish a siren call to spring into action?<br /></p><p>It took a few months to find a pink sweater that was the right color. Isn't pink a happy color?</p><p>And it took a little longer to crochet cherries and leaves. Isn't it exhilarating to learn something new?</p><p>And a little longer to stitch them on in just the right spots? Isn't it strange that it takes planning to make things look randomly placed? </p>Glendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06694325453181600223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4342894752316942343.post-18821989249697017782024-01-01T09:56:00.000-08:002024-01-01T09:56:51.211-08:00Same eyes<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiALONImTneHdw4UWQaJmA5Uy8Y72qkYeHJLh5jQLFfREBCkSdGZfFTfWIdGO3ct72ikD0Cd3vSkaIEfuQOFas85orn2tnQ-klglvFvpU6QW_7e1k1e2V1trwtJfsSR0Sqne81bc3VtB0UvpgqbhIO93j1FDWpGxf_iqDI8DmY3TGBL4kt-2H2s73KoN0w/s4032/IMG_4427.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiALONImTneHdw4UWQaJmA5Uy8Y72qkYeHJLh5jQLFfREBCkSdGZfFTfWIdGO3ct72ikD0Cd3vSkaIEfuQOFas85orn2tnQ-klglvFvpU6QW_7e1k1e2V1trwtJfsSR0Sqne81bc3VtB0UvpgqbhIO93j1FDWpGxf_iqDI8DmY3TGBL4kt-2H2s73KoN0w/s320/IMG_4427.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMe6FC3WNH2HrvBTM5KYbEHjtP3IoMh143_uJt2D5u_7LQ3gj1-rssH8Q69Dh2t8x2FXmzjKK8kMaKdUGA-EugrdQPP0YdV5Yy76zVcipkh84oYis3F6_xoGAMq3_AfhBzMNGJjWenXm15KmA_sLwlH8iP0rHwY1dv780Ttj7NxC8MuGdsF_9nMyjLMnw/s2955/IMG_4439.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2842" data-original-width="2955" height="308" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMe6FC3WNH2HrvBTM5KYbEHjtP3IoMh143_uJt2D5u_7LQ3gj1-rssH8Q69Dh2t8x2FXmzjKK8kMaKdUGA-EugrdQPP0YdV5Yy76zVcipkh84oYis3F6_xoGAMq3_AfhBzMNGJjWenXm15KmA_sLwlH8iP0rHwY1dv780Ttj7NxC8MuGdsF_9nMyjLMnw/s320/IMG_4439.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />On a cool summer morning, my daughter and granddaughter and I bundled up our paints and brushes and made the trek to Mill Lake to ‘capture the day.’<p></p><div>This was a second annual event sponsored by a local art group and this time, watercolor paper was offered as a choice along with canvas. </div><div>I’m sorry I don’t have a picture of our three paintings. Though we used different mediums, our color palette seemed chosen by the same eyes. </div><div><br /></div>Glendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06694325453181600223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4342894752316942343.post-79844580552128675602024-01-01T09:31:00.000-08:002024-01-01T09:31:30.059-08:00her bouquet<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpCxU9cvmNlYowLCLq8_Sdym23lroaHTqvTwfo3NjVXf_q8tsrvxoQySZ3aUwr0YX6A64IxufrV26_1FFDZ4NOxK0dg2nkjldDgwnnVnLUmP_4o7uIW7TXXcWUxKAr8mLXCj3GBUI1TFuqqIrQkpfM2rbUgZd13l60jYy36btZEJHqPMXpUbRntofeMnc/s4032/IMG_4209.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpCxU9cvmNlYowLCLq8_Sdym23lroaHTqvTwfo3NjVXf_q8tsrvxoQySZ3aUwr0YX6A64IxufrV26_1FFDZ4NOxK0dg2nkjldDgwnnVnLUmP_4o7uIW7TXXcWUxKAr8mLXCj3GBUI1TFuqqIrQkpfM2rbUgZd13l60jYy36btZEJHqPMXpUbRntofeMnc/s320/IMG_4209.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div>Eighty years ago my young mother pieced a quilt top while she was visiting her grandmother. The fabrics used are an amazing bouquet of prints from the first few decades of the 1900’s. Isn’t it like poetry that my mother chose a pattern called Grandmother’s Flower Garden?<p></p>Glendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06694325453181600223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4342894752316942343.post-5953181248784426002024-01-01T09:23:00.000-08:002024-01-01T09:23:42.546-08:00rainbow pond<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAORvV-ptCkrHziziNGH9nsQbbzsXFWxuCO06-4eRuJ3k6ecvryy1b2aTq7fxQQ8_m0ghDANDrILn4Is4FvnVrqeBjxXVJZdHXS2AESVoxH987bkQfKVXm_qpWLwkoobQviNNYVw9O3wQjSZynS-H19jj9at0NRlUpaw4hUiHXlm-NcXFDExbOqTwZW0U/s4032/IMG_2308.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAORvV-ptCkrHziziNGH9nsQbbzsXFWxuCO06-4eRuJ3k6ecvryy1b2aTq7fxQQ8_m0ghDANDrILn4Is4FvnVrqeBjxXVJZdHXS2AESVoxH987bkQfKVXm_qpWLwkoobQviNNYVw9O3wQjSZynS-H19jj9at0NRlUpaw4hUiHXlm-NcXFDExbOqTwZW0U/s320/IMG_2308.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />Two turtles are soaking up the sunshine in the center of the pond. Turtle sightings are always a joyful thing but this time, their presence was eclipsed by something even more joyful. Something I had never seen before in all my life, nor even heard of. <p></p><div>Pollen had sifted down onto the surface of the water and the angled rays of sunshine illuminated a rainbow! A pollen rainbow! Wonders abound!!</div>Glendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06694325453181600223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4342894752316942343.post-21741904266875611062023-12-31T14:24:00.000-08:002023-12-31T14:24:19.022-08:00happy new<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhz6ZZmLfJyRiRtNL9pXmOlAyGnsweq0_DUFxkWaaa6vm_bhnbd81SckNm_Wew6QZOg_rwKdRY8RKTkQ6E_GWA2Uluf15PlgiVs6aD4-FoQeK6Id2G13QDRpJd5Tt-_bsUVnyx9NXnpu7flMGuqZ729l5xlPTQWKtUnYWH0D7r9F1FT8gizg4JvAP3SHs/s2048/IMG_4525.JPEG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhz6ZZmLfJyRiRtNL9pXmOlAyGnsweq0_DUFxkWaaa6vm_bhnbd81SckNm_Wew6QZOg_rwKdRY8RKTkQ6E_GWA2Uluf15PlgiVs6aD4-FoQeK6Id2G13QDRpJd5Tt-_bsUVnyx9NXnpu7flMGuqZ729l5xlPTQWKtUnYWH0D7r9F1FT8gizg4JvAP3SHs/s320/IMG_4525.JPEG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEamMMFY9esKPHxEmm8woochXXEPGmmdw0k7E3GEKUHzUbNSNJL2jVEMB6uYjxJc0n2pNEYJ0_2BUaGHIqIOvNmqO-Jf5sU5m9A3yhmYgng10XCRqCBbmR3JoQVGpwh3waVSK0iW-RDVaWGA7OXfSEAPJ9j1jh9_Y6FvIE1bQSH-CIvvTiYKdv6tyhuSA/s2048/IMG_4530.JPEG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEamMMFY9esKPHxEmm8woochXXEPGmmdw0k7E3GEKUHzUbNSNJL2jVEMB6uYjxJc0n2pNEYJ0_2BUaGHIqIOvNmqO-Jf5sU5m9A3yhmYgng10XCRqCBbmR3JoQVGpwh3waVSK0iW-RDVaWGA7OXfSEAPJ9j1jh9_Y6FvIE1bQSH-CIvvTiYKdv6tyhuSA/s320/IMG_4530.JPEG" width="240" /></a></div> <p></p><p>New Year illustrations always portrayed an old man with a long beard for the passing year and a baby for the new. Happy new to you.<br /></p>Glendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06694325453181600223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4342894752316942343.post-80298924754759403962023-12-31T14:07:00.000-08:002023-12-31T14:07:32.738-08:00with a bow<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMr0gWdKEKPh9-aGznnTIXIWIvieBMDy-PWTvyoX6Z8aR_hW8SVZYi-bmsldGyfO_5S5iuf0g2syhIoR4U4LkcIjU9t-gkXt-xpIRRUUBthwOz-OPt1-P00sgCnDjLe076VpwM5tYnDkc_rp9fBl9Orbtci5AUrqkA68VENcVLqaF_PTnbVrjIehg5U5o/s4032/IMG_4380.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMr0gWdKEKPh9-aGznnTIXIWIvieBMDy-PWTvyoX6Z8aR_hW8SVZYi-bmsldGyfO_5S5iuf0g2syhIoR4U4LkcIjU9t-gkXt-xpIRRUUBthwOz-OPt1-P00sgCnDjLe076VpwM5tYnDkc_rp9fBl9Orbtci5AUrqkA68VENcVLqaF_PTnbVrjIehg5U5o/s320/IMG_4380.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvUnTX3i5kFIeJ_dH9H-xzcxtilwlA_sykKQkg74xoE5j5uSx3wUg9buW3U1hP0XgPwatVg5B-wqo1AsDBgGprHisO81o-zGMm3f5HnICxOTu8KcP5R_Sor6tYPW4ZCgvd2vwotq1N1DDTepgsCAnxNHgoIspc7iu1aeZoTiezejiE8wAe-K8nXOBHhkk/s4032/IMG_4412.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvUnTX3i5kFIeJ_dH9H-xzcxtilwlA_sykKQkg74xoE5j5uSx3wUg9buW3U1hP0XgPwatVg5B-wqo1AsDBgGprHisO81o-zGMm3f5HnICxOTu8KcP5R_Sor6tYPW4ZCgvd2vwotq1N1DDTepgsCAnxNHgoIspc7iu1aeZoTiezejiE8wAe-K8nXOBHhkk/s320/IMG_4412.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimhQnVE_qmb5sZ8H_y2wPwR0yNyxDNorRdfqNO7scgP5l5EvAxVsAU6wRjYIle3ormuwxel6WsWmf_6CG3BDh3EytOVf21_tyBKppNZAGSsgMBLCQOMng81plJA78tR7_rNEphwqemuc3OQoiTUWj-Bd_Oz8yWgsXCHdXcwQiCU2WrZxwojbh09Xkn9-Q/s4032/IMG_4414.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimhQnVE_qmb5sZ8H_y2wPwR0yNyxDNorRdfqNO7scgP5l5EvAxVsAU6wRjYIle3ormuwxel6WsWmf_6CG3BDh3EytOVf21_tyBKppNZAGSsgMBLCQOMng81plJA78tR7_rNEphwqemuc3OQoiTUWj-Bd_Oz8yWgsXCHdXcwQiCU2WrZxwojbh09Xkn9-Q/s320/IMG_4414.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzC4IG53Qn9HftAz3vx9NfBUmz09IKnmOU-0UdRViTJl764fl7IY8nVJsqA5JNCPlz8FAMj0totn1UPERJlGMDIKCgeEGKckxl8BjFwpG-3cMTT9q23TQrjpWEU_HEykIra36Y50YkPjjY42wjeFVlJmfP5yBg2JTlkDbvwn9W9fS_5THepytnyrYucgM/s3203/IMG_4416.JPEG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3203" data-original-width="3022" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzC4IG53Qn9HftAz3vx9NfBUmz09IKnmOU-0UdRViTJl764fl7IY8nVJsqA5JNCPlz8FAMj0totn1UPERJlGMDIKCgeEGKckxl8BjFwpG-3cMTT9q23TQrjpWEU_HEykIra36Y50YkPjjY42wjeFVlJmfP5yBg2JTlkDbvwn9W9fS_5THepytnyrYucgM/s320/IMG_4416.JPEG" width="302" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"> love, tied up with a bow<br /></p>Glendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06694325453181600223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4342894752316942343.post-6896587591045915952023-12-31T13:55:00.000-08:002023-12-31T13:55:30.696-08:00snippets<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrNA7rO56OldU04vtrQcR5ajEd8oznloDDHP2uAg_8iR33fy7z-NSAY6beCC8MvsnXAgDJ9QynSO0YHvZzurFZofFhKgSTGFJNAoKggPqjRn3lSVGU_YBNUg_HtkOkK7MuD4mk6VDWPNSp4AmhuQdUMawh_8mZgnR6QaAe8pp8RN-cDQ5DvrRIi_fNXhM/s3489/IMG_3996.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3489" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrNA7rO56OldU04vtrQcR5ajEd8oznloDDHP2uAg_8iR33fy7z-NSAY6beCC8MvsnXAgDJ9QynSO0YHvZzurFZofFhKgSTGFJNAoKggPqjRn3lSVGU_YBNUg_HtkOkK7MuD4mk6VDWPNSp4AmhuQdUMawh_8mZgnR6QaAe8pp8RN-cDQ5DvrRIi_fNXhM/s320/IMG_3996.JPG" width="277" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"> A curved coin purse made with snippets of lovely leftovers.<br /></p>Glendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06694325453181600223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4342894752316942343.post-7752262574457978232023-12-31T13:45:00.000-08:002023-12-31T13:45:37.971-08:00whiskers<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimGMZaiUjiTkQt0p6xIYbyrzQgyiOyEAHDtt-iSfq6vVTb3sKs_dV4tgOY0cerxU1k3KlodjN_uqtcfeVhhFVIFwauHQ4pmpIBKhtlkZQOHumwLwiOEwr1gNRXLpx04160NZScbH8WTd5i_2Eql8pENIYpsn6KlAmSEwiFPxftiCCJcwNgGBybSNbJAvI/s2048/IMG_4517.JPEG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimGMZaiUjiTkQt0p6xIYbyrzQgyiOyEAHDtt-iSfq6vVTb3sKs_dV4tgOY0cerxU1k3KlodjN_uqtcfeVhhFVIFwauHQ4pmpIBKhtlkZQOHumwLwiOEwr1gNRXLpx04160NZScbH8WTd5i_2Eql8pENIYpsn6KlAmSEwiFPxftiCCJcwNgGBybSNbJAvI/s320/IMG_4517.JPEG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjOPPIPkNcTsqep460XKQiOU7gzpbF2ZasHGSyqsPvbGyvBFhXAb_-b6OjW1T0jJNuFCFqt3tul9iEw8-q0i1s4B9UrQuhUJMWla7FRFtU5sb6UDWa-YSBP_jcg6MyvE0Dmmkreq2Uh4PcajzayqsuJKJFMZ9FHmaL8GrRIuUAth9S-400KjVpi5J_XGs/s2048/IMG_4519.JPEG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjOPPIPkNcTsqep460XKQiOU7gzpbF2ZasHGSyqsPvbGyvBFhXAb_-b6OjW1T0jJNuFCFqt3tul9iEw8-q0i1s4B9UrQuhUJMWla7FRFtU5sb6UDWa-YSBP_jcg6MyvE0Dmmkreq2Uh4PcajzayqsuJKJFMZ9FHmaL8GrRIuUAth9S-400KjVpi5J_XGs/s320/IMG_4519.JPEG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirPsEQUJfDRoCTyiE0q6hCmp2G_PFgwfPlT7WB5v00i_g1fC_Oywwce03A3-eGFQRr0oAlcOMqxwZz3RJ3rq9PK4bNC4H87Z5PQpanGEP9XdfxjLrWkyXPWuQM8Fr5VlcvKMjNk6dMiyWQ2-zxrr1YDB5NoCHCkTYRzCBFGgvNq9Hvf9rCtJiYerbERBw/s2048/IMG_4521.JPEG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirPsEQUJfDRoCTyiE0q6hCmp2G_PFgwfPlT7WB5v00i_g1fC_Oywwce03A3-eGFQRr0oAlcOMqxwZz3RJ3rq9PK4bNC4H87Z5PQpanGEP9XdfxjLrWkyXPWuQM8Fr5VlcvKMjNk6dMiyWQ2-zxrr1YDB5NoCHCkTYRzCBFGgvNq9Hvf9rCtJiYerbERBw/s320/IMG_4521.JPEG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVZiGGfNPrTvP5CSa5EXmjcZT4QOVg3mbGkxxF1RiyEQevUNZ3pfgcISxNguFLSNGADdFQNfpK8HXxIqWZFqalNEnx4t0_cZ1HW1nIo9_ycglDSkwk3rh3S4MoRZTSF46Q_Y-IIZphJwjdsuEsnAiiuCINtxcrJhfvNu37h3ZBGRAf0zvmbFc2340MXXg/s1932/IMG_4524.JPEG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1932" data-original-width="1628" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVZiGGfNPrTvP5CSa5EXmjcZT4QOVg3mbGkxxF1RiyEQevUNZ3pfgcISxNguFLSNGADdFQNfpK8HXxIqWZFqalNEnx4t0_cZ1HW1nIo9_ycglDSkwk3rh3S4MoRZTSF46Q_Y-IIZphJwjdsuEsnAiiuCINtxcrJhfvNu37h3ZBGRAf0zvmbFc2340MXXg/s320/IMG_4524.JPEG" width="270" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"> A weensy felt otter collecting snacks for New Years eve.<br /></p>Glendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06694325453181600223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4342894752316942343.post-27316157303074010882023-12-27T09:05:00.000-08:002023-12-28T18:57:18.679-08:00Every gift<p>Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, who does not change like shifting shadow. James 1:17</p><p>Every good thing in our life is a gift. It’s all from Him. “<i>Count your blessings, name them one by one …”</i></p><p>Light is life. It illuminates and reveals. And He is called the Father of light. I love that. </p>Glendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06694325453181600223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4342894752316942343.post-62108961897209673362023-12-23T09:26:00.000-08:002023-12-23T09:44:15.651-08:00Soup on a shelfWhether you are Rapunzel or Mother Hen, home canning can keep you from the fate of Old Mother Hubbard.<div>Of course preserving food is as old as mankind, and until refrigeration came along, food was salted and dried and pickled and fermented. It wasn’t til a couple hundred years ago though that canning in glass jars became a homely task. Mason patented the canning jar in 1858 and by then glistening rows of summers wealth marched into the distance on cellar shelves. </div><div>If there were such a thing as a canning graph, it would show a marked dip in the 1950’s. Refrigeration was the tipping point. But the Do It Yourself decade of the 70’s caused a rebound and canners never looked back. Instead they seized jars and the contents reflected popular culture. Salsa anyone? </div><div>Food was canned once upon a time as a survival strategy. It has been in various decades a requirement, a luxury, or a trend. </div><div>A quart of glowing golden peach halves. Ruby jam in stout pints. Slim beans and carrots crisp. </div><div>Peter Piper and his pickled peppers come to mind. And Grammas succulent chicken; soup on a shelf. </div><div><br /></div>Glendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06694325453181600223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4342894752316942343.post-80838069204573035462023-12-20T11:27:00.000-08:002023-12-20T11:27:37.815-08:00Very own <p>Before there was online shopping, there were catalogues. Nice big thick ones. The Sears catalogue and Eatons catalogues came as dependably as the seasons. When I was a little girl, I took up scissors and snipped out the pictures of the babies. Oh the babies, the babies! There were always a charming assortment. Perfectly wonderful paper dolls. Not just paper dolls but my children. My very own family. </p><p> </p>Glendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06694325453181600223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4342894752316942343.post-42547428588203403952023-12-17T00:23:00.000-08:002023-12-17T00:23:14.743-08:00Say cheese<p>When my daughters were very young, four and one, my mother-in-law spontaneously wished to have their picture taken at the mall with Santa </p><p>I can’t think why she wanted a perfect stranger in a photo with her little granddaughters but I guess she was just overcome by the sheer joy of the season.</p><p>I don’t remember if we had to wait in a line, only that I felt vaguely foolish. </p><p>My four year old was a friendly little sprite and sat on Santa’s knee without a backward glance. If I was near and felt no fear, then neither did she. Any friend of mine was a friend of hers. </p><p>My one year old of course, felt completely the opposite about the situation, such are the vagaries of sibling personality. She wasn’t influenced at all by her nonchalant sister perched on Santa’s knee. Instead she screamed in terror. And kept on screaming as the picture was snapped. </p><p>Baby looking traumatized. Big sister looking concerned. Santa looking tired. </p><p>Say cheese. </p>Glendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06694325453181600223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4342894752316942343.post-43134527520930119582023-12-13T09:03:00.000-08:002023-12-13T09:03:51.246-08:00Once upon<p> Once upon a time.,…. don’t you love those words? </p><p>I loved fairy tales when I was a girl. They are all the genres woven together wondrously; mystery, fantasy, romance, horror, with a bit of historical fiction and even faith revealed. </p>Glendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06694325453181600223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4342894752316942343.post-31698674148767697992023-12-09T00:19:00.000-08:002023-12-09T00:19:53.482-08:00Northern night<p>I’ve only seen the Northern Lights once. Really seen them I mean. Not just a blush of green faintly tinting the dome of night. </p><p>No, I saw them once, like a great wide river of writhing, pulsing light, green and blue and swirling across the wide night sky. The air crackled and hissed with a strange, dazzling, beautiful splendour. </p>Glendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06694325453181600223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4342894752316942343.post-23436290051323533412023-12-03T23:44:00.000-08:002023-12-03T23:44:17.828-08:00Dancing mouse<p>Have you heard of chocolate cozies? No? I hadn’t either until I gazed in delight at the cover of Amigurumi Chocolate Cozies by Sara Scales. This book has patterns for twenty little crocheted projects. Crocheted cupcakes and crocheted cactus cover chocolate oranges. Rockets, octopi and penguins are destined to hold peanut butter cups and foil wrapped chocolates. My favourite of them all though is a tiny gray mouse in a teeny tiny pink tutu. </p><p>I think the little pink tutu sealed the deal. I had to make it. The pattern was pretty easy to follow and round and round the rows went. Round and round and round. Oh oh! </p><p>There is something that I think of as the rule of small. The rule of small is closely related to the law of cuteness and I had just broken that law by disregarding the rule. </p><p>I’m sure the book suggested a weight of yarn to use and a size of crochet hook. I overlooked that bit. And therefore I didn’t end up with a darling dainty dancing mouse. Instead I found myself gazing in disbelief at a great grey rat. Will a tutu save the day?</p>Glendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06694325453181600223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4342894752316942343.post-83643936221613078962023-12-02T17:49:00.000-08:002023-12-02T23:50:23.667-08:00Left<p>It seemed like all the cars in the lower mainland were in Langley today and all of them wanted to turn left. </p>Glendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06694325453181600223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4342894752316942343.post-24481527133959791422023-11-27T22:19:00.000-08:002024-02-19T08:21:29.372-08:00 Knick knack paddy whack Knife, knit, knot, knack. Gnome, gnat, gnarl , gnash. Write, wreath, wring, wrought. Oh so many letters that used to have a sense of purpose to their day. They were once pronounced right along with the rest of their companions but time has erased them from our speech. Not from our spelling though. There they have been preserved like strangers in a photo album.Glendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06694325453181600223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4342894752316942343.post-66556128730075830082023-11-22T22:30:00.000-08:002023-11-22T22:30:42.938-08:00Same awe<p>Jubilant. Isn’t that the perfect name for someone who sings as though his heart has wings? </p><p>The first time I ever heard Mary Did You Know, it was sung by Jubilant Sykes. Lyrics, melody and voice together became something so powerfully moving and memorable that I just need to hear the first notes to feel the same awe and joy I felt then. </p><p><br /></p>Glendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06694325453181600223noreply@blogger.com0