Wednesday, November 26

Blessings

Not what we say about our blessings,

but how we use them,

is the true measure of our thanksgiving.

~W. T. Purkiser

Monday, November 24

Soldered Christmas Charms

Today I finished my charms for the soldered Christmas charm swap that Denise organized . . . and I finished them early! They are two-sided trinkets, so there is a star on the beveled side of the charm and a snip of arborvitae from my neighbor's trees (shhh) and the word "joy" on the other. Each also has a little snowflake dangling from the jump ring, although only one has it attached in these photos.Participants in this swap each made 16 charms -- 15 to trade and one to be added to a bracelet or necklace that will be sold on eBay with the proceeds going to A Place to Bark.
I used copper and black patina on the finished charms, because I happen to like a distressed look, and also because my soldering is not so great and the patina goes well with that. I had fun though, and I think I'll continue playing with the soldering iron and torch.

If you hear that my house burned down, you'll know what happened.

Tuesday, November 18

A Day of Sharing Words -- My Favorite Thing

My favorite thing

is being your lap

while we sit there

together & love

the whole world.




Go to L.K.'s blog to see the words that everyone else is sharing.

Thursday, November 13

A Day of Sharing Words


“Poetry is thoughts that breathe, and words that burn.”
-- Thomas Gray


LK Ludwig had the wonderful idea of sharing the words that "touch us, move into our hearts and resonate, creating a feeling, taking us some place . . ."

Join us. Post the words that make your "thoughts breathe" and your "words burn" on Wednesday, November 19. Get the details here.

Friday, November 7

Baby? What Baby?

I love watching K on Thursdays . . . or any day for that matter . . . but Atticus adds an interesting element to the mix. He's used to being the top baby around here, and he thinks that all toys belong to him. All attention belongs to him. And all food that falls on the floor or close enough to the floor belongs to him. These two crack me up. There's another photo of them over here

Tuesday, November 4

The Thing with Wings . . .


Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all.

partial poem by Emily Dickinson

Let's soar!