Tag: my crochet story

The Local Giants

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Jeremiah 17:7-8 “Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord, and whose hope is in the Lord…(my paraphrase) He shall be like a giant tree whose roots run deep to never lack water, and who is never anxious about weather and always produces good fruit.”

Oldest tree I’ve ever known, and next oldest Tributes to the homestead

The two oldest trees on the acreage have been much of my visual focus this winter. The brown barren landscape and the many wind and fire watch weather warnings, makes me wonder how many branches are even left. The oldest tree at over 160 years (planted 1860’s) has such a gnarly look that the squirrels don’t even use it anymore. The second oldest planted approximately 1880’s has a few smaller branches yet and does look to have more recent growth. The most difficult issue with tree second, is that the roots have set out above surface and are in desperate need of topsoil to keep from nicking the mower blades. That’s a definite plan for the lawn care list. These local giants are not ginormous Ents, but they sure are a testament to time and remind me of God’s provision for those who trust in the Lord.

March arrived with some more pendulum temperature swings. One day it’s nearly nice enough to wear only a sweatshirt. The next day we are bundling up in all the winter gear and wearing a scarf to keep the cold from snatching the breath out of our nostrils! So I decided that crochet challenges were again in the works. Marching across the yarn miles with my crochet hook always helps me face the cold days better.

Crochet borders is my current indoor past time. I finished one border on the daybed blanket. And then decided to finish out the “year” memorial with a border that matched some of the flower pattern. Of course after i was done then I thought of another idea for graduating more color use. Oh, well.

First photo from the visit to grandkids, someone thinks it funny to lay “clementine” an orange multi-s1ueaks toy over Kona’s back. The second picture is Kona napping on top of the recently completed lap-ghan (lap afghan) memoir to the year.

Puppy tales untold, Kona’s journal has not had an update for a while. Here’s what he does. I have trained him to find any item that hits the floor. This is important for me as often things roll away from my peripheral and he does a great job. Of course we won’t mention all of the facial tissues he constantly has to give up for finding when I’d prefer he left them alone. Kona also is my alert eyes, when we go places he will point out new entrances into my space and help me know someone os near. Kona also does a pretty good job with occasional guide at stairs and curbs. He has been trained to pause before any change in terrain. If only I would “listen” to the leash changes better. One time he told me there was a parking cement curb, but I missed it. I did not fall just stumble hop. On the way back the exaggerated jump over the cub and his looking back at me said, “watch the curb- you dummy!” I find humor in some of his tell tale ways of “showing” me what is going on. We recently had to take him to church a few times, due to the grandkid mess of items on the floor (quick retrieval for an overnight stay) that did not give us enough time to “puppy proof” the house for him to stay alone. He has done great any time he goes into a social setting. He is so quiet and does his under chair hide that most people don’t even know my alert dog is with me.

The most hilarious happenings are how the grandkids all and have a face-time call he would always begin with “see Cocoa?” Too which I either walked out to see the horse, or had to answer, “Oma is in the house, and Cocoa does not live in the house.” Isaac would repeat “See Cocoa?” Now baby Joseph is about six months old, and already hollers at me with a face-time voice if I am talking to another. Then as soon as he sees me he begins puppy panting so that he can “see Kona.” My little niece Marigold does the same thing. They are concerned for my puppy more than me. Haha.

What do the local Ents have to do with any of this? Except for Charlie barking non-stop up the tree this morning, we don’t think of the two old branch managers often. I mean really, they just stand there looking quite stark naked in their winter chill. Yet, I wonder at all the things that have happened here for the last 150 years. Those old trees have witnessed so much. If only they could talk. What stories would they tell? My dog can’t talk yet he does try to tell me some things, like the lid that fell is still up on the counter somewhere. And little ones that don’t talk yet do try to tell us what they want or need by their cries and or by their giggles. Their are witnesses and evidences of so much if only we have eyes to see or ears to listen.

My new book is the Molly Burke memoir “Unseen.” Now sure I really want to read something that is so close to home. I also have RP and have been legally blind for a number of years. I am glad for tools that help visually impaired persons. Everyone has to have their own “helps.” For some it’s glasses. For some it’s white cane and a dog. For some of us it’s an alert puppy and the ability to Zoom every text out there. For others its people and the most accurate APP available. Don’t get me started on apps and updates!

The Local Ents aren’t telling me any stories yet. I’ll let you know if the trees begin talking. For now they remain silent witness to any changes or weather or happenings here on the homestead.

Winter games project

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Watching television and doing nothing with my hands is foreign to me. Most of my silent time is spent using my hands. I just have a fidget need. Who sits still and does nothing?

Winter Olympics are fun to watch. whether we find motivation to get more fit, enjoy more outdoor activities, or simply do something we love to do. For me it is the later. So I found a project to crochet while “watching” the olympics. Haha.

The best stories are the trials to overcome. Hearing about the single mom that has two deaf little boys and still won a gold medal in some event reminds me that everyone has a story to tell. Overcoming adversity is what makes us unique yet relatable.

After I found a video a couple weeks ago about the ”whole” person discovering our individual purpose, reflecting on our one little wave in the whole ocean of humanity seemed daunting. So I grabbed my yarn and put together a color scheme to crochet something.

Crochet color schemes based on paint color room decorating is my new thought process. I picked two colors looked up a color palette and matched the yarn to them. Wow! I’m so happy with the outcome. It gives me a new lease on crochet projects. Of course, still not sure what to do with this collection of items made.

Two weeks time is all that it took to finish the latest shawl. Some would probably say, “it’s not big enough to wrap up in” so why bother? Sometimes it’s more about the look of the finished item. Of course the feeling of mosaic crochet items is warmth and comfort, also! But I really did not expect to be done in just two weeks.

2026 Winter Olympics crochet shawl approximately 2 foot by 5 foot

What’s next? That’s always the problem. Just like the Olympian who completes their goal, what is the next goal. Ecclesiastes tells us the joy of doing is a good goal in itself. Enjoying the fruits of our labor, like this moment of just sitting under the really pretty wrap while catching up on the happennings for my online journal.

The past two weeks were a bit of a blur really. My daughter’s kidney stone reared it’s ugly head and we had the kids for a full week. Thank goodness their daddy could take care of the baby for most of the week of her recovery period. Nonetheless, the month still seems to be a blur of activity. The first two weeks were so nice outside, and then the last two weeks bitter cold. Winter games on the television did add an element of distraction to the difficulties of the month.

Empty baskets are meant to be filled. My sister dealing with blindness and trying to fill the time gives me more to be thankful for my own ability to do something with my hands. Even when my eyesight was not cooperating with me for church piano playing this past Sunday, I was thankful that my ability has risen to the challenge. God enables in a way that seems unbelievable.

The barren winter landscape in our area does not have to be the focus of dull drum winter. Other parts of the country are under blankets of snow, and I sit under a crochet wrap that is both distractingly pretty and not so heavy it requires hours of shoveling to get out from under the piles of snow… I am glad for my crochet time “killer.” I am glad that I can listen to books while I do so.

The book that distracted me from the brown dead grassy yard this past week was an “Ellie Haskins Mystery.” I was thinking about “Wuthering Heights” and my hubby got me “Withering Heights.” The first is an old classic literature work and the later is a recent mystery novel. Oh, well. I did not mind it so much. wondering what happens next is a little better that than trying to figure out what color palette will fill my basket next!

The Crazy Crochet Cat Lady pattern above is from the Wild Things collection. I really wanted to do a better version than I completed last year with it’s scraps and pieces. I used a smaller hook this time and the completed item is about six inches smaller in both length and width. I imagine that there will be a border on it soon.

Being physically challenged by my eyesight can sometimes be limiting. Like crocheting colors that are hard to tell the difference between, so I’m learning to mix up the bolds a bit more. I am so glad to have the challenges to overcome. And glad that crocheting in a row is something okay for my vision, accomplishing something pretty in the the end result. So on to the next project….

The Duke of Cottonwood Place

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Our acreage has never had a “name.” It is literally called “the place” where dad grew up. The family homestead is about to experience some major changes, but we aren’t advertising any of those plans due to the potential for future troubles. But the thought that the two old cottonwoods in their past century age might be due to fall soon makes me so sad, that I have wanted to give them their rightful place of honor. The first cottonwood lies just to the west of the original dugout sod house. The tree lived for it’s many buckets of wash water dumped upon it’s base for those first years back in 1860. It lost a large branch over the road just four years ago. Still standing it may be nearly 160 years old. But no one is in any hurry to count those rings. The second cottonwood is just west of where the little wood second home was built. Or perhaps the chicken shack that they used for a few years. It is reported that it would have been planted in 1880 or earlier as that is the date of the little old house. So it perhaps is around 145 years old. Once again no one is itching to count the rings. If I am alive when either goes down, I surely will cry.

Our acreage has always had some animals of some sort, and though farm animals have disappeared and the barn is empty, the cats and dogs will find a lifetime of experiences and happenings a plenty. Cottonwood Place is home to seven cats, two dogs, and two gentle folks that will welcome many a visitor along with the homecoming for the girls that grew up here.

King Charles the third was crowned shortly after we received a rescue named Charlie. The idea that Sir Charles had taken over the guardianship of the acreage was pretty evident. Charlie is the kind of independent dog that simply will not come when he is called off his “track.” So when the delivery van pulls up and does not treat the cookie king with a morsel, we are sure to hear about it for the next few minutes. And asking Charles to leave the van and return to the deck is nearly impossible. Cookies help some, but most of the time, even snatching one cookie, he is soon back to the same old barking fit. There are days, he actually hits the front door with a paw to demand his snack.

Poor dog, other than seven cats and his house people, there is not “animal” shepherding. The cats don’t even get a once over most days. Charlie simply ignores them or steps directly on a cat that is too lazy to move. And now Dasthe saga of cat stories.

This past summer, I tried to add to our hunting crew with some kittens. We lost all but one to the vehicular homicide. I don’t know why some cats are so drawn to the roadsters. Both car and pickup had mouse nest somewhere in the front end during their annual tuneups this fall. Maybe that’s why. But really. We’ve even had to replace serpentine belts due to cat suicide. What is with them things? I know some cat lovers find this quite gruesome, but really, when you live on an acreage animals are really just animals.

The match of Zuch (pronounced Zuke) versus Yin Yang began almost immediately. One day the newcomer actually made it to the back deck feed dishes. For the most part the black and white face symbolixm has stuck to the distance.

Such in the left and Yinyang on the foundation leave hole

After Zuch came back, we took the remainder in for neutralization. He and Boots came back just fine and I really thought we were stuck with just three. Tabitha is still here. I’m not really sure how old she is, maybe seven or eight years. Then about a month ago, the wanderer arrived. We have never seen this cat before.

Black and white saddle back cats are a dime a dozen, really. They seem to be everywhere. The other most common is the grey striped coat. This one has some unusual markings on the face. After finally getting a good picture of him sitting in the common perch, I decided it was just like the symbol for Yin-yang. And so it is. Yinyang and Zuch are still duking it out though. It might be a long battle before the new comer is allowed a morsel of dry kibble.

The cat fights aside, the four-some that came from my sister got their names from the wild, confused, ever present Kramer. We named them after the Seinfeld television show. They have all seemed to take on the personalities of various common known favorite episodes. Kramer has entered the house a number of times in his haste to share some story line. “I must’ve got confused!” Is the most common phrase we declare. At least he is easy to get back out. All four seem to be so underfoot, we call them the Seinfeld gang. Funny how each one of them seems to be taking on the character qualities.

The Seinfeld Gang-Kramer and Costanza left to right followed by Seinfeld and then Bennes on the bottom.

Meanwhile, my hubby and I got through our first January cold virus. Lots of hot liquids and vitamins. My favorite warm drink this week was some chicken broth. We decided to take down the Christmas tree and put the daybed in it’s rightful place in the front window sunshine. What good is a daybed if it’s not in the sunnniest spot in the house.

Updates are always quite delayed when one is not well enough to do anything other than care for own needs. So, I took some time to let the dust settle on the last writing. Probably said way too much. The cat saga here on the homestead is about all the happenings there is in the winter days. The bitter temperatures always makes me amazed how animals get used to such bitter temperatures. We added some fish fat canned cat food to their daily fare. The first day, I nearly lost a finger trying to give them the can of food. Leaned that lesson well.

The beginnings of the chips ahoy remake, a crochet project. Kona on the day bed in the front window a new watchdog posting.

The blanket got renamed “cinnamon toast crunch” after it’s completion. Not all the blankets have names. Sometimes Gavin just claims them by calling them “mine” or “my blanket.” Silly. Saying it’s his favorite means nothing when he says that about every one of them. The Stitch is my favorite, though. Entrelac Crochet makes the perfect blanket feeling!

This writing seems a little random, I know. That might be due to cabin fever setting in. Not sorry for getting hung up on the Ents in our lives. If trees could talk, those two ancient ones would tells the whole story I am sure. And though animals are not “human” we sure put a lot of chrarcter reads into their actions. P.S. Seinfeld took a trip to the never world on the road the other day. Bother , at least he’s not a favorite.

From beinging to the end

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If you have followed me for any amount of time, you might know that I love sharing my Bible readings and insights. Today of course is another of those. And I also love sharing tips about how to expand your thoughts towards God.

I finished the year with a new mosaic crochet tile pattern. Learning curve for me as the green with white one that I did had too many stitches and needs a remake. And of course there is the stash of yarn that’s hope for a hook. I do plan a remake on the “chips ahoy” blanket that I never really liked. I hope to do some sort of add-in and perhaps I will like it then. Or give it away!

Ecclesiastes 3: 11 is a very often quoted verse from the scriptures. Most people know the first part, “He has made everything beautiful in its time.” But many do not know the middle section, “He has put eternity in their hearts…” and I venture that some have no idea the last part of the verse is in the same verse as the beautiful quote, Here it is “…except that no one can find out the work that God does from beginning to end.” Wow, making everything beautiful is God’s mysterious work and no one has that understanding. There is that moment when the caterpillar becomes the butterfly, when is that exact moment?

God has put eternity in our hearts. Today my dear little cousin is going through yet another colon surgery. The surgeries that he has had are going into the second set of digits on the hands. I cannot imagine the thoughts and fears that he has experienced in his young life. Yet, God has worked eternity into his heart and he asked to be baptized this past Sunday before the upcoming surgery. Such blessed assurance the Lord is working out in his life and those who know him. surely, we cannot find out the work that God is doing from beginning to end.

So today as the beginning of a new year dawns, I wonder at all those who celebrate with hope and joy what God will work in others lives around me. Just like you, the past year held so many tragic images, I want to focus on the beauty that God brought to me.

While my physical eyesight continues to to fail me, and I wonder why things look so blurry, I will gain a better vision of a clear future in eternity. With those who have gone before me, I can hope for our renewed gatherings in glory. The holidays have changed so much without the visits of those whom we held dear. Now heaven is feeling more and more like the “hope of home” than it ever has before. It is no wonder that the older one becomes, the more homesick we are. It is easier for me to imagine my father’s clear vision restored in glory than it is for me to imagine the garden in it’s July prime this next summer. (It’s the weeds that do me in.)

This year in its beginning, I choose hope. The other day as I tried to clean out the library, I asked for my husband’s help. It did not go really well well, and my herbage became nearly worth the little garbage pail in the room. Finally, I asked him to leave, and I would finish the clean up myself. Yes, he was helpful at reading the titles and such, but that task was done, and now it was time to find a new home for the menagerie of items displaced. I did get it done in case you want to know. But it was a new beginning to me, having help with a task that I have done by myself for the past thirty plus years.

And so the beginning of the year has arrived with its new beginnings and its hope for positive endings, like a clean room that one can breathe in once again. Hope is often hard to grasp. The Bible says that “Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things unseen.” Hope then can be defined as the expectation of a future outcome that drives one to act upon its believed outcome. How does one translate hope into action. Faith that is not active is not full of hope.

The most common simplified version of Hebrews 11:! “ We walk by faith, not by sight.” Yet Faith does have sight! The vision or dream of what will be is what keeps the faithful moving forward towards the prize or the high calling of Christ. Yes HOPE is the ability to see what is not there. The dreamers capacity is HOPE!

From the beginning of this year, I do not know how its end will be. There are so many hopes and dreams. Like the garden of bulbs planted in the fall that one hopes for in the spring, I must decide to do the work of dividing the soil and placing the dead looking object into the ground. Seed planting is how my brain works. Now I must translate the hopeful bulb garden into everyday life and keep “walking by faith.”

Yearly Yarn About 2025 (crochet review)

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January began with the leftovers project. This beautiful Entrelac stitch blanket is one that I like so well that it sits on a rocking chair as the cushion. I don’t think at this point I will ever give it away, unless of course I decide to make another that is more keeping to our new / old house in it’s farmhouse style. Luxurious creamy earthy colors minus the browns, haha.

February was such a hard month. Saying goodbye to my mom-in-law while crying over my crochet hook. This flower motif turned out so pretty even though it was leftovers. Maybe the new year has a brand new flowers from the Wild Things by crazy crochet cat lady.

March came along with a new pattern purchase again. This time from Tinna from Tinna’s Crochet Club. The hearts are so versatile and so many different ways to do them. I started off with two pillows for our everyday use. And the obsession continued throughout the year.

April found me making a crochet afghan for the tenth anniversary of my nephew and his wife in honor of Valentine’s Day weddings. It was a real blast to make and buying all new yarn was also fun.

May found me going back to an old stitch standby. This is the larks-foot stitch. The two skeins are supposed to be reverse image colors. I thought this prayer shawl rainbow effect was pretty. Much to pray for as my dad entered his hospice care.

June was more like an end than beginning. So I started the thin flowers with ends from the Wild Things collection. It would be for a random person that I met while shopping for yarn. It was a great challenge for me with it’s color choice, but doing it for an “order” was so enjoyable. Saying goodbye to yet another parent, my dad, would make me glad I was giving the project away.

In July I found some baby fleece yarn to make a couple of blankets for the new expected one in August. Though it was not my original idea for a baby blanket, it is so soft and useful!

August came with it’s heat and not much time for crochet. So the only finished project was this little sweater stitch scarf. It is super soft and comfortable. While it is warm, it also feels cool to the touch because of the rayon yarn.

September found me finishing the made to order strings of flowers. It turned out beautiful. It was my most difficult project to date. I was so proud of it, but happy to share the joy and give it away.

October brought me down to size a bit. So I came back to the Freyja pattern by Tinna. This beautiful prayer shawl is part of a do-over. I am quite pleased with and it really needs to find a home.

November found me stuck on the Freyja, and I did another prayer shawl only with a red brick background. I love this one too. And yes, it has not found a home yet.

Finally, December arrived and I needed some small projects that I could do quickly and feel accomplished. These little ornament wreaths were just the thing. And it is totally my own design. I used the reverse crab stitch to make the wreath part. The center is a chain that used single crochet stitches around to create the interior of the wreath. Pretty easy and only took about an hour to complete.

And now it’s time to count the wrappings. I have a bag of them somewhere, perhaps I’ll be able to find them. There were forty seven wrappings in the bag. There is a slight chance that a few packagings were misplaced. So I could safely say that I crochet a skein of yarn each week, 52 skeins of varying sizes and styles. Some are small like sock yarn balls, while others are giant jumbo supersized skeins. All in all that’s a lot of yards! Looking back over the year sure makes me want to begin a new project and buy some more yarn. Oh, dear this addiction is getting out of hand!

Stacking Logs for the Yuletide

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Of visions and dreams, many of which are in the past, here are a few that I cannot forget. I hope that I am gaining some insight from these night time entertainments!

As a little child, trying to climb the ladder, only to find it leads to a diving board that is over the abyss of fire and there is no answer. This dream came before my understanding of Jesus as my Savior. I have dreams of ladders still, but mostly of steps, or staircases that seem never to end. Now I know Jesus is the bridge across the divide.

In Iowa when I was seeking purpose as my children were little and husband was suffering from depression and thyroid crash beginnings, I had many “sound” visions. The alarm, the telephone ringing, the trumpet blast, the thunderous waterfall, the wind in the wilderness, and others. Most of them were followed by specific Bible passages and the interpretation or understanding to go with these verses. I wrote many songs during that time frame and my ears were open to the words of the Holy Spirit. It is such a strong relationship memory with My Lord and I. So thankful that God carried me through my illness with ITP for 12 years with a close walk those four or five years.

Another reoccurring dream is stacking logs. I still don’t quite fully understand all the implications except for the accumulation of of things and stuff on this earth. Things and stuff are such a trap and the weight of all this stuff and really ruin a person. It’s hard, because our parents havee spent 50 plus years of gathering things and left them to be dispersed only by what stuff we have ourselves to divide all out betwixt ourselves and our children. How do I essentially leave a legacy that is not simply a pile of logs to be burned up?

This little cupboard is a washstand replica that my father-in-law made for me. I filled it with my “logs” of shawls. It’s probably time to gift a few of them!

And then one day, I thought of the visuals of yarn logs, or cakes of yarn and the walls behind some of my favorite you tube tutorial teachers…. Is crocheting my “stacking of logs” just to be burned up? I better think of a better use of my projects for proper give-away.

This month, I changed my thought process on yarn projects. Oh, how I love the warm shawls while I sit and work. But no one else seems to value the prayer shawl as I do. So it’s time for Christmas ornaments, doily displays, pillows, or afghans. What are the most common give-away items for crochet, I thought? So, I looked it up.

Hats, scarves, blankets, animal stuffies and … dishcloths. Well, dishcloth’s are out as I have an entire bag full of them. Oh yes bags! I love making bags. Scarves are quick and blankets are time consuming. Ahhh, yes, the hats! The whole set is fun, with the mittens, turtle scarf (cowl neck warmer) but what other home decor can I give away?

These two matching pillows are hot off the hook! I just finished the matching one on the right after I found my yarn stash in the tote under the bed.

And while I was making those pillows, my mind went to the lost cause… well, okay, the lost yarn. When the kids came to stay in August I spend a few days hurriedly packing away much of my clutter. That included several bags of yarn and loose end projects. But where had I stashed the yarn? I spent the next few months looking for the yarn. I tore apart three closets and put everything back. Then I cleaned under all the beds and got rid of the dust bunnies. Until finally last Saturday, I began to wonder if the one bed had four totes under it instead of just three. There at last I found my whole tote full of yarn! Now I could make the matching pillows!

so, yes, stacking logs is not my favorite past time experience anymore. Stacking crochet shawls should not be either. Perhaps gifting away many of my projects should be more in my thought process than just passing the time. The stuff can start spilling out of all the corners and all the closets, and all the totes pretty quickly!

Momentary Afflictions

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2 Corinthians 4:16-18 “Therefore we do not loose heart. Even though our outward man is perishing, yet the inward man is being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary affliction is working for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory, while we do not look at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen. For the things which are seen are temporary, but the things which are not seen are eternal.”

Thirty five years ago I woke up from anesthesia following an appendectomy and hear this little song in my mind as my conscienceless returned to me: “The birds upon the tree tops sing their songs, they lift their little voices all life long, so why can’t I? Why can’t you, Praise Him Too!” It has taken me nearly that long to understand that purpose statement in my life.

When my ears are nearly blowing up from the sinus pressure of a very long allergy season, how do I find my voice to Praise God? When the wind is blowing and the low whine is driving me insane just as the wind nearly did some thirty years earlier during a blizzard, how do I Praise God now? How can I praise God when I am having a bad day physically, because my eyes don’t tell me where I am anymore? There are days I find it hard to find a song of praise.

These present afflictions can go on and on some days zapping our energy, our hope, our focus, our love, our kindness and even our faith. We live in a world of full of erosion and destruction. Every day becomes a battle to grow an inner belief that does not fade.

So taking a look at the moments in my life today. What is true? My first focus of any day is what is the weather. I want to know how to dress. I am so glad that I have a home that keeps me out of the elements all night long and that I have a device to tell me how the weather is for the day. The truth is the air surrounding me is more my focus than the One who gives me the ability to breath that air. Lord, thank You for giving me so much!

What is noble? Looking for the grandeur amongst the clay pots of life is more to be commended that studying the dirt that fills the pot. For me it’s all about the beauty of the plant in the pot. Today, the holiday cactus put a new blooms on. Last year I have five months of continuous blooms on the plant. It amazes me to see the beauty of the trumpeting bloom declaring God’s infinite imagination!

What is just? While many of us wish life could always be fair, much of the time it simply is not. Like what justice is there in my husband’s having a muscular dystrophy that is so obscure and debilitating? What justice is there in giving me a body that could walk miles but lungs that won’t allow it? Physcially speaking living in a fallen world means justice is not to had within our life here. God’s justice is not often known here on earth. It’s eternal justice that we seek, and even that is only done by the everlasting kindness of a merciful God through Jesus.

What is pure? There are days, I am reminded that little Kona has a little white spot on his chest. I think of that spot as his purity mark. Dog’s love with pure abandon. They have no preconceived plans for the day. They have no concept of anything other than what we offer them. God put His mark of love in Kona’s little heart and it shines right through to make a spot on his chest reminding me that God loves us with pure abandon also. Jesus left his home in heaven and came to show us what pure love looks like. It is so bright it sends all the darkness away!

What things are lovely? Praise God for so many lovely thoughts to turn me our of my troubling mindset. The wind can really do a number on me mentally. But only God can take this momentary affliction and help me find things to Praise Him about. It is lovely to have a classic radio station to drown out the wind. It is lovely to have husband that loves me enough to call and see how I’m handling the day. It is lovely to have a puppy lean on my legs and tell me I am not alone.

What good report have I to share with you? I finished the pink / gray scarf with the nordic Freyja heart pattern. I did it thinking about breast cancer awareness. I have two aunts and now a cousin who has survived the dreaded cancer. That is a good report!

Kona testing the rug that is finally finished. He is starting to do the comfy test on every item I crochet.

What virtuous and praise worthy thing can I meditate on today? So thankful for my daughter’s and the virtues that God has instilled in them. From one being a mother that constantly plants good seeds into her children, to the other being a boss that lifts up her employees to do their best, God has granted me two beautiful women to watch on a daily basis be praiseworthy and virtuous .

Phillipians 4 verse eight says, “Finally, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of a good report if there be any virtue or if there be anything praise worthy, think (meditate) on these things.” (ESV). I use to get stuck on the whatever attitude that people had for a time, something like the overuse of the word “like.” Thinking on the good report rather than all the negative bad news in the world is a focus challenge. While my ears feel like they are about to blow up and I am deciding on whether I need more medicine or the doctor, I must decide to think upon the good report. For example, today the tub of onions that I received from my dad’s onion patch got tipped over at some point last spring. We just left it that way, and sure enough the onions prefer growing on the ground than in the tub. I was able to harvest a few for my chicken noodle soup today.

Greenhouse update or good report: The aloe vera plant went crazy this past year loving the atmosphere in the dome. I now have seven plants to give away where there was just two before. I’ll keep two and get rid of the extra.

My crochet story good report: I finished the pink scarf and started another. Even though I lost a whole bag of yarn this last few months. I misplaced while preparing for the grandkids overnight stay when little newborn brother came along. I still have not found the lost bag of yarn. My husband was nice and let me buy more!

String of Flowers

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I remember the first time I learned to crochet a chain. Then I added the single crochet hooked stitch in between. What followed was the ability to make a string of flowers. My goodness have htings changed. Looking at the latest project (Wild Things/ thin flowers with ends) I realized that essentially it is a String of flowers. On a whole new level of course!

Wild Things Thin Flowers with ends by the crazy crochet cat lady. I call this one “The string of flower” Dierra style!

The grey background behind the pink florets has been a most challenging color scheme for my eyes. I should have picked a pink within the “light” shades instead of two medium tone colors. Oh, well, I am nearly done with it and another month for the border will find me entering the fair to get a purple ribbon. I sure hope my adopted grand daughter loves it. She is a first year college student.

The giving moment! Gifting the afghan to my adopted college student. It was so much fun.

This journal entry is for September and yes, I am delayed in entry. We already had the “give-away” day with Dierra. My poor hubby always wants to call her Deedra, because he knew a girl named that in hight school. She absolutely loved her “special order, custom made” afghan. It was the highlight of the month to finish the blanket and give it to her. The feeling of love and pride and happiness as she accepted my hugs and love for this one time complete stranger was incredible.

In May when I was shopping for yarn, this beautiful check out lady asked me waht I was doing with all that yarn. I said, “crochet.” “Oh, I love things crocheted!” She stated. Then, “do you ever take orders?’ Of course, I replied, I would love to take orders if I had any. We exchanged phone numbers.

And the rest is history… She and I had a few text messages in the next two months and she “ordered” her blanket. And I began praying for her. My heart is so full for having this experience of sharing my talent with a young lady that has such a beautiful heart and was not afraid to ask.

I am reminded of the verse in Matthew from the sermon on the Mount where Jesus says, “Ask and it shall be given to you.” I think often about Dierra and how God loves us more than I loved her. God knows us so much more completely than I could ever know her. God wants to give to us what we ask of Him, more than I could ever enjoy giving to her.

Thank you Dierra for giving me the chance to love and share and give what you asked for. Thank you Lord, for giving me Dierra and so many others to love and care for. Thank you Lord for giving me what I asked for: someone to crochet something beautiful for. I was so much fun!

Luke 6:38 “Give and it shall be given to you; good measure, pressed down, shaken together, and running over will be put into your bosom (heart). For with the same measure that you measure, it will be measured back to you.” The feeling of full heart is so amazing when we give something away.

My little grand daughter decided to walk after seeing another little girl in her home school coop toddler room walking. The other little girl was sharing toys and handing out this and that to other kids. Funny how that motivated her to want to walk and “give” things away! Indeed, she spent one hour while I was there one day finding the pieces of some little building toy (hash tag building blocks) and helping me make a cube. It’s great to give.

Now if I could just teach my dog to let go of his toy so I can toss it for him. He’s still a little stubborn about that.

How to watch a Zig zag…

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“If ya haven’t got something nice to say… don’t say nothing at all. “. Our pastor had such a nice idea for Mother’s Day, hand out some compliments. Every mother really just wants her children to get along, to not fight, and perhaps learn how to hand out a compliment while they use their manners at the table. Unfortunately some of the little slips of paper that hte children were to pass out, inadvertently had nothing on them. Therefore many of the lessons that we aim to teach whether as parents, as pastors during children’s sermons, or as employees often get bumbled up. So the age old lessons, if you haven’t got anything nice to say…don’t say anything at all.

I was blessed to sit in the back seat with my mom on the way back to her assisted living quarters. My husband says he is happy to chauffeur and it really does work better for us to sit together in the back of the “limosine” where we can hear each other better. Two hours interviewing my mother made the trip go so quickly. And now it I can just remember all of those answers to those many questions.

Old memories are thus made new, while we talk about her childhood and remember things from throughout the eight decades that she has lived. So many things seem completely out of touch to our daily lives today. Like the wire used to hold the chicken after the head is chopped off. And the fact that it was down by the outhouse next to the twin cottonwood trees. Gavin’s grandpa had rigged up some fancy tool to do the job. Just how many chickens did the family go through every summer. No one took a daily trip to the Cosco broasted chicken ovens back them.

Then just a day or so later, I was to help with the grand kids for the day, and was so tired, I actually fell asleep on the floor at their house. This going one day and home the next day finally caught up with me poorly and few days later. My “Asthma Awareness Month” of May has given me a few days this month in which I fought the asthma struggle very poorly. I pushed and pushed to do some things the one day and finally gave up after blacking out while trying to pull some weeds.

Watching a Zig zag is quite difficult if on eis blind. Pretty sure if I was in the “real” job description, I would be fired. But how does one communicate with a toddler that will not say what she needs? If the child is taught to listen to her body, she will not be able to tell it’s needs. Bother for the grand parenting when the Zig zags and does to tell there is a bend in the curve!

So that is the small child… what about the elderly? I spend two hours Sunday interviewing a great. Now how do I remember all of those things. While asking my mother, I remembered all of my mom-in-law’s answers. Oh, dear. How am I to remember which direction the Zig zagged? I mean now really. I did not take my tablet with and nother is written down. It’s time to get out the files. And I need to spend the next two cool hours outside planting such and such. Or my Zig won’t get enough sunshine to zag!

With all of the car time I logged a larksfoot prayer shawl.It was a trial and error crochet project and I took out the first attempt. Pretty happy with the end result.

And so while Mother’s Day was sad as we missed my husband’s mom for the first year, it was enjoyable a bit spending time with my mom. But the zig zag of paying attention to which parent next continues on. My dad had a mishap and now a broken femar has him in the hospital in need for full time nursing care. Sometimes it feels like during the parent season of life one nearly gets whiplash wondering which way the attention will be drawn next.

Shared my favorite Bible verse Hebrews 12:3 with my dad and talked about Jesus suffering. It was a good visit the day that we went to see him. Also talks about cousins and the boxing gloves. Story I had never heard before. Some things he did not want to talk about. (Music for example)

The wind tipped over the wishing well twice in just two days. It made me sad to see our wishes not being met. Haha. We did get it set up later.

Such enjoyment taken during the road trips of talk time with my daughter also. I feel so frustrated that my ride to and from the city to spend the day with grandkids, I am so tired. It is hard to give our best when we are exhausted. While the road bends and turns through this journey we call life, I’ll do my best to watch the Zig zag!