"These are my heartsongs"

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Wednesday, September 28, 2011


6 towels, two rotary blades, and many hours of tying later....

My rug is complete!

I'm getting better at actually finishing projects, but I have a complex about it that stems from starting a quilt for my baby brother when he was in utero. He is now 9.5 years old & I still pull it out every few months to quilt a strand or two before setting it aside & forgetting about it for a while. But this is DONE!! and I'm super excited about it.

I think my next project will be a wreath of rosettes made from book pages. Wish me luck!!

Monday, September 5, 2011

Pinterest Project!




Three towels from Goodwill on 50%-off-Saturday for $3.97
Two yards of anti-slip mat from Joann for $5.22
One rotary cutter from Michael's for $15.23


A very good start to a very awesome project.

Tutorial here!

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Eve will be in Utah July 28-31!

And in San Diego a few days before that! Beaches. Balboa park. Checking out the prospective YSA scene. Six Flags. Maybe Las Vegas. Zion NP. Brother & sister-in-law. Boating. Temples. Eating. Old friends. A wedding. All but two people I've talked to related to the trip (excluding the happy couple-to-be) has said "bring your bathing suit". Next week is gonna rock. :D

Also, unrelated. This is my new favorite tv show.

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

What is this pitter-patter of wet stuff hitting my windshield?!

I grew up in Tornado Alley. Thunderstorms were a regular, and beloved on my part, occurance throughout the year. I thrilled to being awoken by a clap of thunder and flash of lightning. My childhood home had a tin roof that gave the drops a special 'ping'. Every April & October the weather geared up for the really SEVERE stuff of tornadoes in May & November. I loved the greenishness of the air that indicated a tornado was on it's way.

The closest a tornado got to my family was one that touched down 1/2 a mile to the west of our house, picked back up & went over us, then touched down 1/2 a mile to the east of us. It was pretty exciting. Then there was the year at our church Girl's Camp when there were 100ish teen girls and 30ish leaders crammed into the cinderblock restroom structure on the shores of Eufaula Lake during a tornado warning. Stuff like that makes the adrenaline tingle in my fingertips. Love it!

Now, here in Arizona, it has rained once since March. I've been anticipating monsoon season for a few weeks, and Friday the sky looked a little promising for precipitation. I pointed out the lines of rain pouring down in the easternmost part of the valley to the kids as we were driving in the afternoon, but I was resigned to the fact that it was past us and moving further away, so we wouldn't be seeing any of that particular storm up close & personal.

Saturday was sunny & hot, but apparently we got a short shower in the middle of the night, as evidenced by the dusty circles on my windshields that evoked images of Lichtenstein's pop art in my mind. So - sunny, hot and more humid than usual, but no raindrops falling on my head. :/

Part of the package deal here in this Valley of the Sun is that when it does rain, the little pebbles on the side of the road get IN the road, and make for more windshield-chipping/cracking opportunities if one follows the car in front of one too closely, say, within about a quarter-mile on the freeway (which 'one' learned last October. Twice.). So I was a little aghast when I heard two or three little dings on my car roof while driving Saturday night well after dark. "How in the WORLD are pebbles hitting the top of my car?!" was my first thought. And then I saw a few drops hit my windshield, smearing the lingering dots of dirt like a tear down the tortured blonde's cheek (because my wiper fluid has evaporated in the past 3 weeks of 110+ heat).

It only sprinkled for about 7 minutes, but my little desert-aclimated heart beat a little faster & I think I almost got a teensy adrenaline high.

Bring on the monsoons, Arizona sky!

If you can't post a status that's bloggable, don't post nothin' at all.

I've decided to try something new here. I'm on facebook a lot. And I change my status on facebook a lot. So I'ma try to write a blog expanding on each status I post. Just for fun, and cause my inner narcissist likes the idea. Hopefully you will too. :)

Monday, May 17, 2010

Monitoring the Weather: 6th Language of Love?

I got my first smartphone a couple weeks ago. So super fun. I get to carry the internet with me everywhere, and we all know that the internet is the source of all knowledge, so how can that not rock?! Tonight we were driving on the 202 loop, talking about this awesome mountain north of Mesa that was a favorite of the four of us in the car; no one knew for sure what it is called, but it looks like a sinking ship. I thought it was Red Mountain, so I googled 'red mountain mesa' on my phone, and this is what popped up:

BINGO! Just like that, we knew for sure the name of this mountain. Awesome, no? (I know I'm a few years slow in this whole smartphone thing, but humor me, ok?)

So one of the apps that I downloaded to my phone last week is "Accuweather", which brings up current weather and predictions for locations you choose. Right now I have 8 locations saved - weather for my area, my old home of Memphis, my dad, my mom, my brothers, and the distant cities of three different friends. I check them daily.

When we lived in Oklahoma, a.k.a Tornado Alley, my parents' family members would call every time there was a tornado anywhere in the state. Especially my mom's mom. We might not talk to her for months at a time, but if the words Oklahoma and storm made it onto her weather report in California, we got an immediate phone call. It usually made me laugh, expecially when the storm was in the panhandle, and we lived in the furthest possible corner from the panhandle. But it was a way of showing that she cared, and that's always cool.

And now I find myself checking out how the weather is to get an idea of how the natural forces are treating these people who mean a lot to me. (I especially pay attention to the humidity of the areas. And I groan when it's frequently over 50% in almost all the places I check. Why can't everyone have 8-12% humidity like I do most of the time? Poor guys!) There's something about knowing what's going on in the environment of the people I care about that gives me a deeper sense of connection to them.

But on the other hand it feels slightly stalkerish...

Monday, April 19, 2010

Help! I'm Alive, My [Biological Clock] Keeps Beating Like a Hammer

Do you ever miss people you don't know? I have been lately. I miss the children I haven't had yet. When I first started working as a childcare provider, it was a way of channeling my mothering instincts to a venue that helped others as well as being a source of income for myself. It helped me not focus so much on being single and not having children of my own. Over the past year or so, though, my desire for my own children has stepped up a few notches, and it's starting to hurt.

I work about 45 hours a week, caring for as many as 9 children in four families between the ages of 1-7. I love these kids a heckuva lot. Both of my respite clients show me so, so much love. They greet me so enthusiastically when I come to their houses, give me heartwarming hugs throughout the time I'm there, and ask me not to leave when my shift is over. The almost 7 year-old clings onto my hand and asks concernedly "What are you doing?...No, Eve, No, I want you to stay" repeatedly when she sees me gathering my things and wrapping up business with her mother. The almost 3 year-old I watch three days a week cries and says "Hold you, Eva" when I start to leave at the end of the day. It touches and hurts my heart at the same time. I hate to leave the babies whom I love and care for in their parents' absence. I'm impressed at the easiness with which they love me, and the excitement they display when I come to their houses. The 7 year-old boy who tells me the schemes he's concocted to 'get' me 'fired' at least once a week, also tells me that he doesn't want me to ever stop coming over, and that he loves me, at least once a week.

The mothers I work for are 1-6 years older than me. I have pangs of jealousy at their opportunity to raise and love their own children full time. What is in store for me down the road? Will I be able to bear my own children? Will I be able to adopt? Will I have one, or two, or five? Will I have as much patience with my own as I do with these women's children? Will I have a husband who sticks around, who loves and plays with our babies the way I've seen fathers of these kids do? Is this experience of being a fill-in when these children's moms aren't available, and my role as an oldest sister to 7 siblings, the fulfilment my mission as a mother?

I don't think I could work for a mother who is younger than myself. I think it's hard enough seeing women in their late 20s with kids in 1st grade. I can't spend too much time looking at facebook photos or reading the blogs of my friends who have children. It starts to put me in a funk and I have to stop before I get too frustrated with my situation.

We hear a lot these days about the pain of infertility, of couples trying for years to get pregnant and being unsuccessful. There's a grieving process to it, and this is starting to become accepted and acknowledged by society. We don't hear much about involuntarily childless adults as a result of being single, of being infertile because there's no one around to fertilize one's eggs, so to speak. Of feeling like an outsider in a group of women because you're the only one who doesn't have your own children running around the playground. Of loving someone else's children so much that you miss seeing them over a three-day weekend. Of carrying diapers in your purse and extra stuffed animals in your car, and feeling like a poser when you come across them out of the childcare context.

For me now, at 28, it's not so much about whether I'll get married (I have a good bit of faith that that will happen at some point), but it's more of a question of when and whether I will have a child/children of my own to nurture and raise, and if I will have the opportunity to experience all the aspects of motherhood, from pregnancy to sleepless nights, to watching my little one grow into an adult and having children of their own.

What these arms and heart want is to love and care for someone(s) who I won't have to say goodbye to every afternoon or evening. Is that too much to ask?

Friday, April 16, 2010


I have been missing yoga for the past several weeks. Memphis had several studios that I visited occasionally, and the last three semesters of school I took classes through the school and really loved it, but I didn't keep it up after graduation. I've been looking this morning at studios in my area, and found a few I'd like to check out.

One studio I found advertises itself as "offering a wide variety of classes, including our Christian "Faith Yoga", which the site defines as 'practicing yoga with a Christ-centered focus, designed to deepen your walk with the Lord...Exercising the body and mind while meditating on God's Word has a lasting affect on your life'. I found myself feeling very taken aback by this syncretism of sorts.

For me, yoga is a very Eastern religion/culture thing. I love it for it's spirituality without blatant religion (that I'm familiar with, anyway). I can connect through yoga and meditation in a way that enhances my Western Christian Restorationist religious understanding of God and the value of a human soul, in ways that I never got in practicing my religion on its own. I am definitely an advocate for the maxim "if there is anything virtuous, lovely, or of good report or praiseworthy, we seek after these things." There is so much in the world that contributes to peace and love of God that is not strictly within the confines of a specific religion or way of thought. Yoga is one of those for me. But I'm not sure at first glance about this Christian Yoga stuff. My reaction to it is a fear that the intrinsic spirituality that is contained in yoga practice might be misplaced in the zealous effort of a studio to bring Christ into it so conspicuously. The beauty of yoga for me is the universality of the opportunity to connect with one's individual higher power, the lack of dogma, the openness it presents as being a form of exercise, or a spiritual stretch. I don't want someone to tell me what to think when i'm meditating - that's not the point of meditation!

Maybe this class is the answer to someone's desire for enhancing their own western christian spirituality, but I think I'd rather take my own path rather than be told how to integrate the two elements of Christianity and Yoga practice. However, I may check it out just to see how my knee-jerk reaction measures up against the actual experience.

Namaste, ya'll! ;)