Blessing #15 - My Wonderful Family

Where would I be today without my family: my husband, my three wonderful children and their spouses, and my six precious grandchildren.  Bud and I + the 3 children are on the top row, their spouses on the 2nd row, and the grandchildren are on the bottom, I cannot imagine my life without them even though they are scattered from Washington state to Maryland and Virginia. I can’t even begin to imagine my life in this old house all alone.  I miss having the them nearby, but I reared them to have minds of their own and to go out and make their little niches in the world, so for that I have to happily pay the price of not having them close by.  Thank heavens for the invention of the telephone, the computer with the little camera built into it,  pictures, and emails.  Tomorrow I am off to my eldest grandson’s high school graduation so that is going to be very exciting.  I will miss all of you this holiday weekend,  but I’ll continue working on my squares while I am out of town.  Happy Memorial Day to all of you.

Box of Crayons

Here is the most precious poem about crayons that I find fitting to follow my post about color in my life...

While walking in a toy store
The day before today,
I overheard a Crayon Box
With many things to say.
I don’t like red! said Yellow.
And Green said, Nor do I!
And no one here likes Orange,
But no one knows quite why.
We are a box of crayons
that really doesn’t get along.
Said Blue to all the others.
Something here is wrong!
Well, I bought that box of crayons
And took it home with me.
And laid out all the crayons
So the crayons could all see.
They watched me as I colored
With Red and Blue and Green,
And Black and White and Orange
And every color in between.
They watched as Green became the grass
And Blue became the sky.
The yellow sun was shining bright
On White clouds drifting by.
Colors changing as they touched,
Becoming something new.
They watched me as I colored.
They watched till I was through.
And when I’d finally finished,
I began to walk away.
And as I did the Crayon box
Had something more to say...
I do like Red! said the Yellow
And Green said, So do I!
And Blue you are terrific!
So high up in the sky.
We are a Box of Crayons
Each of us unique,
But when we get together
The picture is complete.


~Anonomous, Box of Crayons (Original Author Unknown)

Color in My Life - Blessing #14

   

   Life is especially beautiful for me because I am blessed to be able to experience it in living color.  It would be just fine in black and white, but all the hues and tints of the different colors add so much.

   

   Since I was a child, color has had an influence on the many things I do:  clothing choices, fabric selection, picking out yarn, spinning fibers together, making post cards...the list goes on and on.  The feeling of these materials gliding through my fingers and across my hands is wonderful, but seeing and working with the colors sends me into a blissful state.  Mixing, matching, and coordinating colors is just the most fun in the world for me, and it never gets old or boring because each combination is unique.

   Working on my 100 Blessings Sampler has brought back to the forefront how much I enjoy working with color, but it is also having a profound effect upon me in how I view my life.  It’s making me stop and think in depth about things, how blessed i am, and what I need to do to make the most of these blessings.  I need to slow down, take time to smell the roses, take my one and only life off remote control, and savor each and every moment I have left here on this earth.

  Color in my life is Blessing #13.

"In our lives there is the simple colour, as on the artists palatte, which provides the meaning of life and art.  It is the colour of love."

~Marc Chagall

Love of Life - Blessing #13

    Years ago a dear friend gave me a beautiful linoleum print of the poem “A Salutation of the Dawn.".  Her name was Fannie Mennen, and she was an teacher, musician, and an artist who grew up in Chattanooga, Tennessee.  She also had a wonderful home called Plum Nelly atop land up on part of Lookout Mountain in Rising Fawn, Georgia, where I viscid her many years ago.  She had had polio as a child, but she did not let that stop her for seeking her dreams and living her life to the fullest.  She went on to become a noted lithographer and produced some of the most beautiful linoleum prints you have ever seen. Through the years I’ve collected many of her works which are now housed in the homes of my three children. Should you like to read about her interesting life, there is an excellent article online. Ever since reading the salutation,  I have tried very hard to live each of my days to its fullest. Now, as I am growing older, I am able to look back over my years, and for the most part,  my yesterdays are dreams of happiness while all of my tomorrows continue to be visions of Hope.  I love my life, and I am joyful each morning when I awaken to the sunrise, and give thanks for my day before going to sleep along side the peaceful darkness of the night. I am truly blessed.

                                          SALUTATION OF THE DAWN
LISTEN to the exhortation of the Dawn!
Look to this Day! For it is Life, The very Life of Life.
In its brief course lie all the Varieties And Realities of your Existence;
  The Bliss of Growth,
  The Glory of Action,
  The Splendor of Beauty;
For Yesterday is but a Dream,
And To-morrow is only a Vision;
But To-day well lived
Makes every Yesterday a Dream of Happiness,
And every To-morrow a Vision of Hope.
Look well therefore to this Day!
Such is the Salutation of the Dawn.
 (Hindu)

My Boss and My Job - Blessing #12

   For this entry, I am going to try to put into words how I feel about the principal for whom I have worked these past four years, but in order to do that I am going to have to go way, way back to the beginning of it all.  In 1960 I began my career as a second grade teacher in West Palm Beach. Florida, at only 20.  That job was the beginning of a most unbelievably rewarding career as an elementary/middle school teacher spanning almost a half century....oh. my, I’m old!,  I had many principals, but none left much of a mark on me. I figure there were about twelve or so, but not one of them was a person to scream and holler about or try to emulate. Each was efficient in the job he did, but they all lacked something.

   Four years ago that all changed when I came to work under an educator who loves ALL children: rich, poor, good, not so good, argumentative, silent, loved, unloved, girl, or boy. This occurred because I did not like my self-imposed early retirement....I missed the children, I  had never done anything professionally but teach, and I simply wanted to return to the school setting.  Fortunately, our county superintendent felt I still had something to offer and rehired me to be an SMR/ Student Management Room teacher or is simpler terms, the in-school suspension teacher. Well, I love it!  I can finally be an advocate for those middle school children who do not, for whatever reason, have the skills or the desire to sit in a classroom quietly and attentively. I have no lesson plans to write, no faculty meetings to attend, no papers to grade, and no grades to average.  All I have to do is be there for my kids and treat them as I would want them to treat me...and LISTEN.

   Our little school sits way out in the county nestled on a hill and surrounded by a majestic panorama of the beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains.  It is a small, up close and personal little place steered by a principal who is very kind to the children, his staff, and me.  He makes me laugh when I am down and teases me when I’m up, but everyday, all day, he is there for me and my little family of dysfunctional, unhappy, frustrated, sometimes unloved, and many times emotionally crippled 12-16 year olds. He accepts them as they are with unconditional love and respect. He listens to their stories while at the same time only speaking when the time is right to help guild them to where they can see and understand the wrongs of their behaviors. The children appreciate what he does for them and are very fond of him. They need him.  Working side by side with such an honorable man has been a wonderful opportunity for me. Some of the days have been rough, terribly frustrating, and stressful, but having him there to support me in what I am trying to do makes it all O.K. He’s shown me so many kindnesses and respect.  Because of him and his vision for education, I will finally be able to REALLY retire before too long with a great big smile on my face and a banner flying from my back of my car as I drive out of the parking lot saying.....THANK YOU, MR. PRINCIPA ! Yes, you and your little red brick schoolhouse out in the middle of the countryside are my Blessing #11.

“I can no other answer make, but, thanks, and thanks.”
~William Shakespeare

Blessing #11 - Thomas T...My Red Headed Grandchild

There are no redheads on my side of the family, but the children’s paternal grandmother was a “strawberry blond.”  Each time I was pregnant and would see a little carrot topped child, I’d say a prayer that the little one I was carrying was going to be the next “little red.”  I kept telling myself  I was going to have the first one in our family, but after three tries I had to admit defeat. It just wasn’t it the cards.  My eldest, a daughter, had three sons - two blonds and a brown head.  Then my middle child - a son - had his first little boy, another brown head.  But, then it happened.  Thomas was born 5 years ago with a full head of red, gorgeous, curly ringlets, and I was ecstatic.  My dream had finally come true.  I couldn’t do it, but my son and his wife had.  “T”, as he is fondly called, fits the stereotype of the redhead: happy, wacky, full of whimsy, at times a bit of a temper, and FULL of life. All of these attributes fed into my choice of using a buttons with green floss for his green eyes and the orangish, curly, French knots for his hair. He just turned five and is "a trip," and he’s more fun for his Grandma Baga and GrandBud than a barrel of monkeys.  He puts smiles on our faces, and they stay there until we fall asleep at night. We love sitting and looking at the little photo albums his parents have so faithfully sent us through the years. He always has a huge infectious grin on his face and a twinkle in his eyes. Making silly, ridiculous faces is his call to fame. With his 6 year old brother, Ben, T is a real team player.  They share everything even down to their money which they pool together so they can buy something the other one wants.  Their camaraderie surpasses anything for which we could have wished. It warms our hearts to see how they care for each other and how they always share. Sure, they have their spats, and at times T’s red head temper bursts through, but those two little boys adore each other and are each other’s best friend.  So for Blessing #11 I have chosen our beloved Thomas T...but I think his mom and dad would say he is Blessing #2 with Ben, their first child, as Blessing #1.


All for one and one for all
My brother and my friend
What fun we have
The time we share
Brothers ’till the end.
~Author Unknown

Music - Blessing #10

When I was in the second grade, my mother and daddy bought me an old pump organ, and that’s when my love of music began. Without it - music - on a daily basis,  I cannot imagine what my life would have been or would be like.  I listen to PBS classical music all day at school, and I’ve even gotten the children to where they request it if I’ve failed to turn on the radio. I play it in the car, and I go to sleep listening to the same list of compositions every night. I’ve done this for years and years and years. A creature of habit is the only way to describe me.  From the time I was a little girl up to only recently, I’ve studied piano and organ, fiddle and violin, and a little mandolin. Only in the past 6 or 7 years have I stopped taking lessons. My mother took piano until she was in her late 80’s, and our home was one that respected and appreciated music. I find that some tunes pick me up while others calm my soul, but there are ALWAYS tunes a’playing in my head and in my life.  Many years ago I even “tried” singing in the choir at our Episcopal church, but that left a lot to be desired.  I made sure no one could hear me because I was always off key and not singing the right part at the right time.  Open my mouth wide but only whisper out the words was my motto! I think the words for that are....”Fake It!" Of all the instruments I’ve played, the violin, or as I sometimes call it, the fiddle, has to be my favorite. There is something about the bow hitting those strings and the sound that’s produced that puts me on a track directly to Heaven. No matter whether the music is old-timey, mountain or classical, I am a happy camper with a violin in my hand. One summer I even traveled to Ireland to study Irish fiddle and had the time of my life.  It was the Willy Clancey Festival Music School, and I lived in an old covent for a week.  What an experience...wonderful fellowship, great food, dancing, and the music to die for all day and most of the night every day and night. It was a shame Buddy couldn’t go with me, because I really wanted him there and he would have loved it. On one of our trips over there he bought me a real Irish fiddle while in Dublin, and it is one of my treasures. Like I said in my tribute to him on our anniversary - Blessing #9 - he has always supported me in the things I’ve wanted to do, and that week in Ireland was one of them.  I absolutely adore that country.  I’ve gone there alone, with Weezie, my best friend from Blessing #5, and with my Buddy several times.  Each and every trip was filled FULL of music.  I marvel at the Beethoven’s, the Handel’s, the Haydn’s, and the Mozart’s in wonderment at their compositions and unbelievable talent.  How did they do it? How could they come up with the music for all of the parts in an orchestra?  How could you do it being deaf? The only answer is their talent was a gift from God; that’s in my mind the only explanation.  Yes, I love and need my music; without it I would be very sad.  It is my Blessing #10.


“Music is harmony, harmony is perfection, perfection is our dream, and our dream is heaven.” ~ Henri Frederic Amiel

Blessing #9 - My Husband on Our 31st Wedding Anniversary

Today, Monday, May 17, 2010, is my 31st wedding anniversary, and when you look at pictures from way back then, it is hard to believe how we have changed.

When I try to think back across the years, I find it mind boggling just how much has transpired.We saw the children through high school and college, and now they are grown and moved far from the old nest on the creek. They all have their own nests in Virginia, Maryland, and Washington. Today I not only have a husband, one daughter, and two sons, but I have added one son-in-law, two daughters-in-law, five grandsons, and one precious little granddaughter. We have all had a wonderful life together. Yes, there have been the ups and downs and the highs and lows as in any marriage, but you have been there faithfully for us throughout the years. You’re a kind, loving, and compassionate gentleman who has worked hard to care for me and the children.  You love us with all your heart, and you never complain.  You’re a devoted husband who will do anything for me and allow me to pursue anything I wish to do.The old saying...”Patience is a virtue, possess it if you can...seldom found in women, but never found in man,” is NOT true for you.  You’ve got more patience than any man I have ever known.  I wouldn’t trade you in for a newer model for all the tea in China. You’re perfect just the way you are, and I cannot imagine my life without you.  

You are the best of the best, and I thank you on this our "Big 31st" for all you do for me, for sticking by me through thick and thin, being my best friend, loving me unconditionally, and for taking such good care of me. HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!

Sometimes I think my husband is so amazing that I don't know why he's with me. I don't know whether I'm good enough. But if I make him happy, then I'm everything I want to be.
 ~Angelina Jolie 

Sister Rose Brendan - Blessing #8

Of all the teachers I have had through years of education, Sister Rose Brendan stands out above the rest.  She was a Dominican nun at Rosarian Academy in West Palm Beach, Florida.  I started kindergarten there and graduated in 1959.  I was a boarder for several years, and she was my 7th grade teacher as well as my home economics teacher when I got to high school.  Sister was short and chubby in appearance, firm and demanding of me in the classroom, but always loving and compassionate. If I turned in work or a project which was not done as she expected and demanded, I would do it again with NO exceptions. Her expectations of me were pretty hard because I, like most of my pals, didn’t want to redo anything  Trust me, we might have thought we were “right,”, but that wasn’t ever the case. Giving up in her classes was not an option, and it isn’t an option for me to this day. The old saying...”If at once you don’t succeed, try, try again”  was her motto then and mine now. It was definitely Sister Rose Brendan that instilled in me my desire to do whatever I do well. She planted the seeds for my love of children , my becoming a teacher, my always challenging myself to try something no matter how difficult it might seem. and to see it through to the end never failing to redo if necessary. I adored her then as I do now.  I can still see her walking about the campus with her Missal in one hand and her Rosary in the other. It always looked to me as if she was twirling it as she charged from place to place.  She always walked at a steady clip! I always wondered what she really looked like, as back in the 40’s and 50’s nuns were completely covered except for their faces, necks, and hands.  They all wore the same identical, rimless, rectangular glasses with white habits that went down to the top of their plain, black, laced up shoes with the stubby flat heels, and long black veils. I always wondered if there was any hair under those veils. The myth was they all had shaved heads, but that, of course, turned out to be false. Many years later while on a visit to my parents in Palm Beach, I went over to Rosarian to tell Sister about how much I loved her, how much I appreciated all the effort she had put into her work with me, the value she had placed upon my education, and how very influential she had been in my development. Well, I got the shock of my life.  There she was standing in front of me in a simple street dress, stockings on her exposed legs, little flat “normal” street shoes, and she had short curly graying hair.  She was well into the process of losing her vision, but to me she was the most beautiful sight in the world. Her face and her little glasses were the same, she had lost a lot of the weight, but her voice sounded exactly as I remembered it.  Her wit was as sharp as ever, and she remembered me as if I were back in her classroom.  She even made a reference to the “ripping” incident from home ec class which I, too, continue to reflect upon each time I sew, knit, quilt, or make anything in any manner.   It was the old “ripping incident” that sticks out from all the rest of our “discussions" about my work.  I was sitting at my sewing machine stitching the seams of a skirt I was making when Sister walked over, looked down at my sewing, and did not like the way it looked. She kindly but firmly told me to rip it all out and resew it....and I couldn’t just rip any my way. Rather, I had to do it her way by pulling out the thread from one side and then pulling the loosened ones from the other...back and forth, and back and forth  There were no sharp plastic rippers back in those days.  We used our little scissors and fingernails.  I can still hear her as if it were yesterday saying, “Eugenia, if something is worth creating, then it is worth ripping and redoing to make it the best we can.  If you don’t feel this way about your skirt, then you need to rethink the assignment. If it is worth doing, then it is worth doing correctly and to the best of your ability.”  I ripped it out, sewed the seams again, and that skirt I proudly wore and wore as one of my most prized possessions. In the end, I was so proud of it. Sister, you are now in your Heavenly home, but you are at my side day in and day out as I sew, knit, and quilt.  My husband feels like he knows you, too. I rip with a smile on my face however many times it takes.  I write and rewrite until I get my words just so. I always try to do the best I can. You and your guidance got me through college and grad school.  Your words gave me hope and inspiration when I needed them the most, and  I now share them with my students. Without you I would not be the person I am today.  Rest in peace my dear, Sister Rose Brendan.  One day we will be together again, and it is my prayer you will put your hand in mine and say, “Eugenia, you did well, and I am proud of you.”  Sister, you are my Blessing #8.


The dream begins with a teacher who believes in you, who tugs and pushes and leads you to the next plateau, sometimes poking you with a sharp stick called "truth.” 
~Dan Rather

Rain - Blessing #7

Rain:  water falling in drops condensed from vapor in the atmosphere

For the last two days rain has been falling in more than just a now and then sprinkle of little drops...it has been coming down hour after hour and bucket upon bucket in torrents.  After making the long journey from the lakes, rivers, and oceans up to the clouds and atmosphere, this cool, beautiful rain is returning with power and majesty to terra firma from where the process began. For me, it’s been a glorious two days of nature’s orchestra performing at its finest:  the rain pinging on our old tin roof the percussions, the roar of the thunder the horns, and our babbling creek the strings. While soaking up their fill of the heavenly moisture, my irises have burst forth in vibrant yellows and shades of purple. 

The branches of the old oak tree are hanging close to the ground, the leaves and grass twinkling with droplets of water, and the lily pads in the little pond calling out, “Come and sit on me, little frogs.  We have missed you this winter. Welcome back home."

Not only have I been feasting upon the sights and sounds of the rain, my nose, eyes, skin, and lungs have just received a most special and unexpected gift....two days without everything around them, inside the house and out, being covered with pollen.  What a great present for which my aging body says, "Thank You, Mother Nature...Thank You!”  I know the human race MUST respect this gift and not waste it or continue to do the things that are going to lessen its quantities here on Earth. Waters are warming at a frightening rate, and both we as humans and the animals as well as the vegetation are threatened.  Without the waters and the rain, we cannot survive.  Please mankind, respect your Earth and do all in your power to preserve and protect it. Yes, the rain has to be my Blessing #7. 

May the road rise up to meet you, may the wind be ever at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face and the rain fall softly on your fields. And until we meet again, May God hold you in the hollow of his hand.

~Irish Blessings

 

Blessing #6 - Photography

When I was young, taking pictures was just fun to do. The old Brownie camera was my favorite...oh, my, was that a long time ago!  After I married and began having children, picture taking became a way of documenting their growth and lives as individuals, with their friends, and as a part of our family.  I photographed everything. It was just something I did, day after day.  I have pictures on the walls, on table tops, in multiple boxes, and in albums dating back years and years.  

Once the children moved out of the house and went off to college and later married, the photos became fewer and fewer.  Now graduations, weddings, and family reunions became the order of the day, while all the time I was beginning to age a bit.  Suddenly photography took on a different meaning and purpose.  Where before it had been documentary, now it was becoming something for me with an urgency attached to it.  I felt driven to snap my husband, children, and their families before I started forgetting people, things, and events.  Photography now becoming a means to an end....a way of keeping my memories alive and real as I progresses thorough the aging process. I could refer to them as could my children to help me to remember our past together and relive the happy and emotional times we all shared as a family.

At this time I started creating formal albums devoted to single events like the weddings, holidays, visits, and reunions. 

Reunion 2007

I also kept time-line albums for each of the grandchildren to give them when they married.  After my parents passed away, I discovered many old black and white photo albums dating back to the late 1800’s and early 1900’s and some college keepsake books filled with pictures.  Somehow photography seemed to be in my blood!

The picture taking continued until we all got together in February of 2009, for a 3 day celebration of my 70th birthday. We rented 3, vintage 1930’s old CCC cabins at Douthat State Park here in Virginia where I enjoyed one of the happiest birthdays ever. It was there that I noticed my daughter with her Canon taking picture after picture of our family and the nature around us.  It was apparent she loved what she was doing and it showed in the moments in time she captured. Suddenly I had that old lightbulb moment.  It was time for me to pass the baton of family documentation to my talented daughter and two sons. The time had come for me to start using my little point and shoot Canon to take pictures of my sewn items, my art, my crafts, and the flowers in my yard.  I had taken enough pictures over the past 45 years to job my memories for as long as they could be jogged. There was no pressure or urgency anymore...I was finally clicking the shutter simply for the fun of photographic instant gratification.  Anytime I feel the urge, I can return to the boxes and the albums and simply sit, remember, and enjoy the memories of my life.Yes, pictures and photography are a wonderful blessing....blessing #6.

“Photography is a way of feeling, of touching, of loving. What you have caught on film is captured forever... it remembers little things, long after you have forgotten everything.”

Aaron Siskind

My Friend, Weezie- Blessing #5

By definition, a friend is a person you know well and regard with affection and trust, but my special relationship with Weezie goes far beyond that.  She and I met while watching a Christmas parade 43 years ago.  We were introduced by mutual friends because I had just purchased her childhood home, “Breezemont," which just incidentally was directly across the street from the house in which she and her family lived, “Dogwood" ....what a small world!  She had 4 children and I had 2 though soon to be 3.  We moved into the house when her daughter and mine were only 4, and we lived there until moving to Virginia in 1978, when our girls were in the 10th grade.  The families were inseparable for all those years.  We were one big loving, happy, combined-extended family consisting of 7 children, 4 adults, and lots of cats, dogs, and goldfish.  It was a fairy tale story but in real life. Our lives were so intertwined I do not think the children knew which house to actually call “home.” Through the years she and I grew closer and closer and to this day remain best friends.  To me Weezie has not only been a true best friend, but a sister, confidant, listener, companion, fellow food lover, the Godmother of my youngest son who named his little daughter for her....Eloise, a traveling mate, a true, practicing Christian...the list just goes on and on and on. There are simply not enough accolades for me to place upon her. We have traveled to England, Ireland, Italy, and Mexico together through the years, and the memories we share are priceless.  Sometimes we traveled just the two of us, and then there were other times we took our daughters along. Every summer we vacationed together with some other girlfriends.  Never has she passed judgement on me or told me what to do or not to do.  She has simply been there for me through thick and thin, the good and the bad, and the happy and the sad.  Once I was told if a person could count the number of their friends on the fingers of one hand, he or she was very fortunate.  Well, I must be the luckiest gal in the world because Weezie is the only friend I could have ever wanted or needed.  No one will ever be able to take her place.  She is the best friend in the whole wide world, and I love her with all my heart.  God blessed me when he sent her to be a part of my life. I LOVE YOU, WEEZIE, AND ALL OF  OUR FAMILY LOVES YOU.  Happy Mother’s Day one day late.   

The first photos are of Weezie and me, the third one is of my son, Gene, with his Godmother, and the last is of Weezie along with her  namesake, Little Eloise, and Eloise’s mom, Patricia.

Saturdays Are Local Farmer’s Market Day

 

              Homegrown farmyard/chicken house eggs

Farm fresh sweet peas just picked this morning

Farm grown beef raised about 15 miles from our house and processed here in Lexington, VA

 

Homemade beeswax made by a friend of mine who has bees

    Today I had to take a little break from my 100 Blessings and take care of our food needs. Our local farmer’s market is finally open and at a beautiful spot - the Virginia Horse Center in Lexington, VA. With the regal horses walking in the background it is a picturesque location. Not only did I find healthy, homegrown meat, eggs, vegetables, and plants, I got to see old friends and the parents of students I taught in midde school in years past. What a great morning I had getting caught up on all the news.  For years Lexington had its own slaughterhouse and then the owners closed it and used the building for other things. Now, it has reopened....YEAH! Note the eggs. A year or so ago I saw the neatest photo of these “colored” eggs at Flickr pokeypatch posted by what I call “a real photographer.” It is the cover shot for her “Explored” set. At first I thought they were hand colored...well, I think not.  The green ones leave the chickens that color naturally.  I had already bought a dozen regular free range, no antibiotics and chemicals chicken eggs, but I could not resist getting these mixed colored ones to show my husband.  Next Saturday can’t come soon enough for me.  The only difference is I will get there earlier before everything is picked over. Welcome to the homegrown, local, and organically grown food on its way to our table. Oh, and the funny little round tan thing....it’s homemade beeswax made by my friend, Catherine. This will be used in my Blessing project, as I find that pulling the embroidery thread thru the beeswax keeps it from tangling and knotting from the top as I am going along.  It is invaluable in my estimation.

Fergon Iron - Blessing #4

In 2007, I was diagnosed with Chronic Iron Deficiency Anemia. To put it in simple terms, without iron twice a day I don’t have the energy to do much of anything. Finding out what was wrong with me was a huge relief, but finding our that something as simple as the iron would restore my energy and ability to do the things I love....well, that was and continues to be a true blessing.  My Fergon iron pills are bright green, and by taking them I have good ol’ healthy red blood cells running through my veins, and I feel GOOD!  I showed this square to my husband just now, and he did not have a clue as to what it represented.  Hope it makes more sense to you all. Bless you, bless you, my little green pills.  You do your job faithfully with vim and vigor.  I couldn’t ask for anything better from you. Yes, you are one of my 100 blessings.

The Grid is Complete!

I had to make myself quit working on my blessing squares so I would finish my grid.  My goodness, it took me a long time!  I didn’t think it would ever be complete.  Good old perseverance paid off because a few minutes ago I took the last stitch.  Now, the best part can begin uninterrupted. Blessings here I come!

 

Blessing #3 - My Sight

Oh, how blessed I am to have good eyesight!  I cannot even imagine what I would do were I to lose it.  How would I do my sewing and knitting and all of my little crafty projects?  No longer would I be able to have my independence...no longer would I be able to drive.....the list just goes on and on. One of the ladies who knits at our local knitting shop is blind, but she is a wonderful knitter.  She chats away as she knits along and is absolutely amazing and a real inspiration to be around.  Yes, I am very blessed to have my sight.

“For my part I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream.”
 Vincent Van Gogh

                                    

Little Dresses for Africa - Blessing #2

Today I completed a square to show how the Little Dresses for Africa project has touched my heart.  Seeing the photos of the orphans on my computer screen made me realize just how blessed I am to have clothing to spare. The dress or pants one of those children receives is the ONLY outfit that child has. How could I not do my part to help? I wanted to  help "change lives one dress at a time." It is one of the most rewarding volunteer projects I have ever set out to do and truly a labor of love. Each day as I get dressed for work I think about what a blessing it is to have adequate clothing. If you are curious to see some of my dresses, you can go to my other blog: http://buttonsforbaga.blogspot.com/

                                 

The Little Green Hoop and Blessing # 1

I finished my first square, but it is very different from the way I envisioned it looking.  It wasn’t very long after starting that the old wooden hoop split into pieces.  I guess it was just too old and dry for the stress I was putting on it.  We live in an area with nothing but a Walmart which carries no embroidery supplies, so I knew I was up the creek without a paddle if I couldn’t unearth another one somewhere. I looked and looked in the house, in the outbuilding where we store all kinds of things, and even in the barn.  The search finally paid off.  It was at the bottom of a precious wooden sewing box my daughter gave me for Christmas two years ago right beside the recliner I always sit in to do my handwork. Now I know the hoop is a blessing, just one that is green plastic instead of old wood.  I like the way my representation of it turned out with the little needle, but the pink I used to represent fabric is a tad bit rough.  After a good bit of pondering, I decided not to rip and redo it because I want the overall piece to be authentic and to show the progress I hopefully make moving through the 100 squares.  

Be sure to go to the Counting My Blessings site to view the beautiful squares the other participants are creating.  The blogs are listed going down the sidebar.