brotherly love

Sam waited his whole life (his words) for a brother. As you can see Henry likes what Sam likes. He likes what Sam eats, how Sam laughs, how he sits, if he coughs, if he wears a hat, if he wears his socks up (or down), if he sings (this is my favorite). They are nine years apart, but growing closer by the minute.

work in progress

Busy days around here! I've cut out a few things for Molly but haven't had enough time to spend on them.

It's Maggie's birthday, today. Each time one of the kids turn another year older I feel pride at the person they are becoming but also heavy hearted as they are growing, too fast. I love you, baby Maggie!

wishes

Hope you have a Berry good weekend!

tea party skirt

Last week Molly was excited to wear her self titled "tea party dress" to a teddy bear tea party she was attending. We were both sad to see it was too small, though she insisted she could wear it regardless and just "not lift my arms". I'm pretty resourceful but still couldn't relent.

On a whim today I took my newly sharpened scissors to the dress and separated the bodice from the skirt. I made a skirt by kind of following the lazy day skirt tutorial except I added a waistband and pockets. It was very easy and I'm excited to attempt this on a few more outgrown dresses. With half the left over sash I will make a headband.

Bonding

Recently I watched an old Martha show that inspired me to try something new. Often I watch and envision myself trying to make what she is making -- who am I kidding? But yes this time I acted on my daydreams. Though truthfully I was boring my daughter Maggie with how cute this project was. She researched the guest Martha had on and printed the template, and insisted we get to work.

The template and directions were easy to follow. It was a delightful way to spend the afternoon. Anytime one of my girls want to sew I try not to act overly excited as this makes them roll their eyes and run. Because, well, you know....I convince them to wear frilly aprons when they cook, to please let me cut their hair into a bob (this makes them have reflux), to play croquet in the yard while sipping lemonade in vintage glasses.

Making this doll was very rewarding for me, it was less about the doll and more about having fun with Maggie. I hope she remembers the afternoon as fondly as I do. The doll was designed by Emily of Inside a Black Apple.

A Day in Autumn

It's still a little too warm to plant mums, the trees are ever so slowly showing signs of their impending gloom. They don't sound dry and wispy as the wind rustles through them. Yet. I imagine it will happen suddenly, from the speckled glossy leaves to starkly bare trees. But it is Fall all the same, that's what the calendar says. This definitely means it is okay to buy too many apples and those bumpy warted gourds. The gourds sit on the kitchen island until I have a whim and put them where they should go. But truthfully do they look good anywhere? I like pumpkins piled on hay bales out front but the gourds always get lost in the mix.

I felt foolish today (moreso than usual) as I ran errands in Ken's rusty old truck and was so proud of myself pulling up to the barn to unload grain bags that I forgot to close the pasture gate. The horse who is much smarter than I ever thought, had a spectacular afternoon walking down our road and picked the loveliest home to gallopy trot through. When I found him a whole two hours after I had finished my chores and come in the house he was standing in the middle of a beautiful vegetable garden. A garden that I am certain was labored in the hot sun for months to finally be reaping a harvest..and I am most certain the harvest was not meant for my horse, though he seemed very guiltless as he saw me approaching. My children were walking down the road from the bus at this point and didn't realize the crazy woman with the polka dotted boots who was trying her best to lead a horse with an upside down halter on was indeed their mother. But being good kiddies they saved the day. I suppose I am not as mad at the horse as one would think, I hugged him tight when we got home which he like most men took a few seconds to relax enough to enjoy. I was so happy to have him home and push all those pretend conversations from my head of telling my husband how I lost the horse ( I could even hear him telling all the folks at work while they all laughed in unison). I will most certainly never ever forget to close the gate again. I hope.

blah blah and more blah

One of my favorite things about being a military family is living among different cultures around the world. Each place we have lived has changed me, I am grateful for this. Sometimes these changes are immediate like when I watched Turkish women hunched over working in the fields under the very hot sun as the men sat in the shade playing backgammon. Other changes happen over the course of time. Shopping is one, the way I shop now is very different than the way I shopped fifteen years ago. I cannot say exactly why this is. I suppose some of this is due to age, being thirty six with a bunch of kids is much different than being young and more carefree. I am drawn to efficiency and things made with love or thoughtfulness. My son and I have been building a chicken pen and today my hands are sore from the poking wire and my crooked hammering skills.

But this gives me satisfaction. Even though our pen is not level (at all!), I am glad we made it.

We learned many ways to do it better...I hope he retains these lessons. It is a parallel for much of life.

Having said all that as a transplanted Connecticut girl living here in Texas, I am often surprised at the culture here. I love learning and seeing how people live. The schools we send our kids to are very small, they have welcomed us with open arms (literally!). On Friday I watched as a Dad dropped his kindergartner off in the morning, I sat with my mouth open as the Dad was a cowboy right out of a Louis L'Amour novel. I have seen many western dressed people but not any I could picture on a horse lassoing cattle.

I think it was this experience that made me realize while thrifting that these jeans were calling Henry's name.

There is much to take in, to learn and be respectful of. I often dwell on wanting to go "home" to New England...to be around family and all. In the meantime I'll just saddle up and enjoy the ride.