I am NOT obsessed with socks…

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I just have to make about 7 more pairs.

I made these grey alpaca for Willow- and they fit perfectly.

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” You want me try them on here?

Right now?”

Yes- so I can see if they fit.


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They Fit!

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And so do these!

But if I don’t make a whole lot more, I will forget HOW to make them.

I can’t read a pattern- I have to memorize the steps.

So I’m on a great sock adventure!

Now I have to get some more fine wool.


Psalm 67- Blessings from the face of God

Psalm 67
For the director of music. With stringed instruments. A psalm. A song.

1 May God be gracious to us and bless us
       and make his face shine upon us,

2 that your ways may be known on earth,
       your salvation among all nations.

3 May the peoples praise you, O God;
       may all the peoples praise you.

4 May the nations be glad and sing for joy,
       for you rule the peoples justly
       and guide the nations of the earth.

5 May the peoples praise you, O God;
       may all the peoples praise you.

6 Then the land will yield its harvest,
       and God, our God, will bless us.

7 God will bless us,
       and all the ends of the earth will fear him.

New International Version (NIV)

Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by Biblica


A psalm of blessing- of justice- of harvest- of plenty.

I need to stay within the compass of  God’s shining, smiling face-

to focus upon it like the flowers do the sunshine.  To bathe within His blessing like the garden does within the gentle rain.  And to dwell within the praise due to Him as Maker, Preserver and Saviour of all mankind- but especially as MY Saviour and the Lifter of my Head.

I’ve been depressed lately, a dear friend’s son recently died after a very long battle with cancer.  At only 33, he was only a year older than my eldest son, and yet they dealt with this debilitating disease for most of his life.  He didn’t marry, had no children, and left behind his grieving mother and father and siblings.  And yet, his mother’s testimony is one of love and courage and God’s goodness.

I think I have dealt with death my entire life, I lost two sisters and my father at young ages.  I have spent a lot of time working out the devastation left in my life at their seemingly untimely deaths, yet I have never lost a child.

And yet, all of this loss still comes under the scrutiny and allowance of our gracious heavenly Father.  The Father of blessing- our God of the Shining Face.

I don’t understand, but I do trust.

I can’t explain, but I do believe.

Sometimes I wish I could banish all doubts and pain and we could talk about God’s blessing without having to reference the sorrow of life.

Instead I call out, ” I believe, help my unbelief!” (Mark 9: 24)

and  raise my face for His blessing.

Happy Birthday, Luke (and beautiful skies!)


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Happy Birthday to my handsome son!

– Thirty two years ago we were gifted with our first son- it was a beautiful day- warm and mellow with just a hint of fall in the air.  The trees were bright with the promise of more color to come.  And then, there he was, our child, filled with all of the possibilities and problems that we all travel to this world with as baggage.

And yet, as he grew, the problems were few, the blessings many, and the joy he left in his wake made us all richer.

I took some pictures of the skies this week- some were so bright and some rather threatening – just like our lives.  This is the world we share and enjoy- it is all we have to offer to our children- this and the love that God has given to us- a heritage of the holy- a hope for a better world. 

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What preparation ? Bread and Babies!

I said I was preparing to go away for a week.

I never said I was packing.

Or getting clothes laundered or buying supplies, did I?


Because my preparations look more like this:

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And this:

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And these lovely loaves:

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Not a thing packed- I’ll do laundry tomorrow.

Today I made marvelous bread and helped give a baby his first bath.

Bread and babies-

a perfect preparation for a happy time.

Living a double life

I sometimes feel like I am not whole.

Splintered would describe me more often than not.

I am somewhere between most places and attitudes.

What is that pithy Christian saying?  Something about, ” Forgive me, God’s not finished with me yet.”?

Well, then, forgive me, because I’m nowhere close to being done, yet.

Right now, I’m somewhere between the  Eastern coast and the cornfields of Ohio.

Skipping between the beach and the ‘burbs.

Lost between Meredith’s house and my own.

And wherever I am, I’m thinking I should be at work in the other place.

Do you ever feel like this?