tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81800141302325340342024-03-13T12:02:20.160-04:00brown robinbrown robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00240110591473818986noreply@blogger.comBlogger273125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8180014130232534034.post-35965279949057995422012-04-10T14:26:00.001-04:002012-04-10T14:26:56.840-04:00Morels!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD3utVrNbDjEWR6Q3OGQqwcm6FDZvU6RFAiaczxg0fkHEzuLtnoR3Qsdrm-gRdFUwUVsKIML9bydImUSAVCa4V3WGiKFSU8xtDSGx2baP3MOBnOIT4hyAZyKz-DOzQgGq7xO-Nap22LqU/s1600/photo+(7).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD3utVrNbDjEWR6Q3OGQqwcm6FDZvU6RFAiaczxg0fkHEzuLtnoR3Qsdrm-gRdFUwUVsKIML9bydImUSAVCa4V3WGiKFSU8xtDSGx2baP3MOBnOIT4hyAZyKz-DOzQgGq7xO-Nap22LqU/s320/photo+(7).JPG" width="238" /></a></div>
<br />
They're early this year in Western North Carolina. We've been eating them up. They are simply amazing and worth the hunt in the woods to find them. Morel season is something we look forward to every year.brown robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00240110591473818986noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8180014130232534034.post-11701122861414455612012-03-20T06:30:00.000-04:002012-03-20T06:30:05.330-04:00Vernal equinox<div>
<br />
<br />
<div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO4XW8QBdpAu5ZV9KAtvP7HDk6rLyFkyDSMtEW99W9w4clIfT8E34zVn07Wt5qDk9-6HJhapEH-hfKM8V0zsjza6rBp-zJ7Ds60_-svr-mswDCyRce6C5C4zIWBPVSPkohcpgpjOiGBMo/s1600/spring+1.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586629219761325266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO4XW8QBdpAu5ZV9KAtvP7HDk6rLyFkyDSMtEW99W9w4clIfT8E34zVn07Wt5qDk9-6HJhapEH-hfKM8V0zsjza6rBp-zJ7Ds60_-svr-mswDCyRce6C5C4zIWBPVSPkohcpgpjOiGBMo/s400/spring+1.jpg" style="display: block; height: 400px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center; width: 300px;" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: small;"><i>It's here! Happy Spring, Friends.</i></span></b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<div>
</div>
</div>
</div>brown robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00240110591473818986noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8180014130232534034.post-88007440956929964162012-03-15T07:00:00.000-04:002012-03-15T07:00:09.923-04:00Now, for a tour of her room<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZgiAMMGp7JSNE-WPmxna8V29pTkA60vbOLzBg-yOD5lTnmU_tZm0jGwVU77kdToasIkgSreG2MZYbRV9hK_pXx9WWpOE_JCaQI42HveIdR9wk7FmeOdLMkRIAqSPm2RMEQTAnyQtHY6I/s1600/166.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZgiAMMGp7JSNE-WPmxna8V29pTkA60vbOLzBg-yOD5lTnmU_tZm0jGwVU77kdToasIkgSreG2MZYbRV9hK_pXx9WWpOE_JCaQI42HveIdR9wk7FmeOdLMkRIAqSPm2RMEQTAnyQtHY6I/s320/166.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw7YHCMowmmPq0tET-V2aPYUovE_F2M7a5SZCJOhuepORJzmyAQMln2qF8qI32ZtPQoMPt9ETU47NrAfgl-V4EnsOpGJxtT-JGpg-GeKucM4Zw1tboke38kOZRPO-jgZmNqAzaRcutfLI/s1600/164.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw7YHCMowmmPq0tET-V2aPYUovE_F2M7a5SZCJOhuepORJzmyAQMln2qF8qI32ZtPQoMPt9ETU47NrAfgl-V4EnsOpGJxtT-JGpg-GeKucM4Zw1tboke38kOZRPO-jgZmNqAzaRcutfLI/s320/164.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMCU0_0DfGh-CEYxfZqbFn88tBdYBTiFxagZ_RypAaOta3FW2s2m9sQxoamjxo2t0wywa0_BT9Y5nik2cYsT-12NdGZCuDDknL0g9liHxkNl7rbRGt32mq26j1FS23z3AaHvTnixGGlfA/s1600/168.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMCU0_0DfGh-CEYxfZqbFn88tBdYBTiFxagZ_RypAaOta3FW2s2m9sQxoamjxo2t0wywa0_BT9Y5nik2cYsT-12NdGZCuDDknL0g9liHxkNl7rbRGt32mq26j1FS23z3AaHvTnixGGlfA/s320/168.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWg2Jcg2lRa-TFgHLkrsQKrXMnFCFkgV6FMDmlNo_Wh4G5R0IF0zt2VNq48lcWQLLPu18mt84BtarU51uCOrvohw8w4vqw3oydlr-8IqNDabKv_uJ9mvzvuN1lF1Dhyphenhyphen9WmRjyizLnycFc/s1600/165.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWg2Jcg2lRa-TFgHLkrsQKrXMnFCFkgV6FMDmlNo_Wh4G5R0IF0zt2VNq48lcWQLLPu18mt84BtarU51uCOrvohw8w4vqw3oydlr-8IqNDabKv_uJ9mvzvuN1lF1Dhyphenhyphen9WmRjyizLnycFc/s320/165.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLd1gPSvjYIjE5IrDogaGIxYjSNrZ9cT-fz4-sfYo_YkjaPhQLDJ3Uj_4k1XxsGGQee2SvGvhW8ENATeeHxw5qzM6UqgrzBWt1iwOIYX9y0hW6oUEJuSEOknHowcCfSV86II3XJ975720/s1600/167.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLd1gPSvjYIjE5IrDogaGIxYjSNrZ9cT-fz4-sfYo_YkjaPhQLDJ3Uj_4k1XxsGGQee2SvGvhW8ENATeeHxw5qzM6UqgrzBWt1iwOIYX9y0hW6oUEJuSEOknHowcCfSV86II3XJ975720/s320/167.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg_v01z6eXMfMkY_jqzVVx16VVYE2Z44NrXmucNgMM3edznPFLGvM9e_yf8mTbuzYOaicapCAJJsqIHjhtcUMbdHblpCrrqgwb77AeqBJBZYF0LsEqz5Hbgouu3RtQYJ-P3C0foMepyoU/s1600/169.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg_v01z6eXMfMkY_jqzVVx16VVYE2Z44NrXmucNgMM3edznPFLGvM9e_yf8mTbuzYOaicapCAJJsqIHjhtcUMbdHblpCrrqgwb77AeqBJBZYF0LsEqz5Hbgouu3RtQYJ-P3C0foMepyoU/s320/169.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
sbrown robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00240110591473818986noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8180014130232534034.post-80615828267794434432012-03-09T07:30:00.000-05:002012-03-09T09:25:36.152-05:00Because you asked....boy's room tour<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMfrZRm_bspkn_7rag94Q4HWvhYEP5SBXNuxYcJq3zrrku-EIhHCmKqqeeWT4QjxE_MVnDyfwWN50KioyuUpKoxgnklWVt6WYY0ulDwZ4kj3lzdY3YibNrzFCTkrzCsPFtuBR6G7ETCOM/s1600/172.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMfrZRm_bspkn_7rag94Q4HWvhYEP5SBXNuxYcJq3zrrku-EIhHCmKqqeeWT4QjxE_MVnDyfwWN50KioyuUpKoxgnklWVt6WYY0ulDwZ4kj3lzdY3YibNrzFCTkrzCsPFtuBR6G7ETCOM/s320/172.JPG" width="238" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAZRPipjqTWrVSAasjZblwmrQU41QHv5CnmqTvahgwRm9USHQkUfPKjUCD1o8rqpqmVuysQ2bvW4KuhbYBSJ4DbJssOLxHN6HAXMkC6WZ9mPaL3UquUISdRQ0y8xdcGIiVl7KFMQ_h4O4/s1600/175.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAZRPipjqTWrVSAasjZblwmrQU41QHv5CnmqTvahgwRm9USHQkUfPKjUCD1o8rqpqmVuysQ2bvW4KuhbYBSJ4DbJssOLxHN6HAXMkC6WZ9mPaL3UquUISdRQ0y8xdcGIiVl7KFMQ_h4O4/s320/175.JPG" width="238" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJbg5hinEPlTsot9fQaWyT3Wyj0U8ek8du9tT919Zzabm-iJe7FSEThoEe1zuKopJ7crDM4bsrJhXQJMf7JwwdiIGh8wjkMYGVE2-QHH5Jyc79Fkz8pLKJLGl7JyPW7cJ5fw5W3GX2rk0/s1600/171.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJbg5hinEPlTsot9fQaWyT3Wyj0U8ek8du9tT919Zzabm-iJe7FSEThoEe1zuKopJ7crDM4bsrJhXQJMf7JwwdiIGh8wjkMYGVE2-QHH5Jyc79Fkz8pLKJLGl7JyPW7cJ5fw5W3GX2rk0/s320/171.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlc629hudl9HNfMNAcGQOBJNpAowLjHmA-Lo9guGv3W2LpNTaukKdO0MAxRsL4jErnqDbXw41gUgQCpxS4sF_KFET2DKOfY7jXtR33METZgNXv5ldQdwYTo6jILB04Sra9tkk-LGr1mTI/s1600/174.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlc629hudl9HNfMNAcGQOBJNpAowLjHmA-Lo9guGv3W2LpNTaukKdO0MAxRsL4jErnqDbXw41gUgQCpxS4sF_KFET2DKOfY7jXtR33METZgNXv5ldQdwYTo6jILB04Sra9tkk-LGr1mTI/s320/174.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJpgkqM0LwxZyq6FF2gW1fzjGvTPdSvlbWNNUqqWzuD7kAmEJwrfxAT0fDsifmPIE6qnbaq6E33NS-Qimp7uWsMvyzMoL_OvS5h5mOROcRCaW8wGeoM1tHmInq7cMJDrLl7fgwiIsvcPQ/s1600/170.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJpgkqM0LwxZyq6FF2gW1fzjGvTPdSvlbWNNUqqWzuD7kAmEJwrfxAT0fDsifmPIE6qnbaq6E33NS-Qimp7uWsMvyzMoL_OvS5h5mOROcRCaW8wGeoM1tHmInq7cMJDrLl7fgwiIsvcPQ/s320/170.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
If you know me, then you know that plenty of what you see is DIY, thrifted, hand-me-down, or sewn on my machine. Honestly, you should have seen the shelves before I painted them with four coats of "Luscious Mango"!!! (They were black and brown, bought from 2 different yard sales.) What I love about this room is that it is functional, colorful, and fun. There is nothing that is unused or simply for show. I also take just a wee bit of pride in the lovely fact that not a piece of furniture is brand new or purchased from a major catalog source. Truthfully, I wish I could have grown up in this room. What I love is that he appreciates this room as much as me.brown robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00240110591473818986noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8180014130232534034.post-25380100793882683832012-03-04T16:10:00.000-05:002012-03-04T16:12:10.932-05:00Love my weekends<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik73WF7aSaA5TLp7mb3TDC5gPLVPFpb5Pe2qIg2xqj6ZLuJGbFMXfdOB3fIQ1NIpJbkElRStBmNdDcXrsiYaxgTVr5Ovzi87UF05-ANzM1bDpjWsRVLRc2dYLHHJbPj0VRw9aG2sfLMw8/s1600/180.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik73WF7aSaA5TLp7mb3TDC5gPLVPFpb5Pe2qIg2xqj6ZLuJGbFMXfdOB3fIQ1NIpJbkElRStBmNdDcXrsiYaxgTVr5Ovzi87UF05-ANzM1bDpjWsRVLRc2dYLHHJbPj0VRw9aG2sfLMw8/s320/180.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Making things makes me happy. Every weekend I try to spend a little time messing around, doing whatever it is that I want to do. It washes away the stresses of a busy week. <br />
<br />
A while back, I found this antique aquarium for a quarter. It has a crack in it which no longer allows it to hold water. The kids and I started getting antsy for spring. We went to a local nursery and bought $6 worth of plants. Then we scavenged a little moss from the woods. Easy peasy. Our own indoor spring. Go make one! It's fun and I promise you'll love it. There's nothing like creating something that offers up immediate gratification and takes very little time and money to achieve the effect.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDumNVN2OfEQO88Ki600kUagj5H75-yP-fZ_XL80-8Y9PSel47Nblq9wYuVqCSNkbmIhUJY9V7nWdsgr95EZL6tkxn-3-M4FXzAmyf7bLtG0awW4ZcceHfgLagE8LpviT2hcMATSa_CiM/s1600/179.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDumNVN2OfEQO88Ki600kUagj5H75-yP-fZ_XL80-8Y9PSel47Nblq9wYuVqCSNkbmIhUJY9V7nWdsgr95EZL6tkxn-3-M4FXzAmyf7bLtG0awW4ZcceHfgLagE8LpviT2hcMATSa_CiM/s320/179.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>brown robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00240110591473818986noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8180014130232534034.post-20637032759467894992012-02-14T07:00:00.000-05:002012-02-14T07:00:03.281-05:00Happy Valentine's Day<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCSAGN4u6O5eUBlc7kQ8uWkU9oVkDo0am87TBMsawdo1TEvE7GE6J8ISR1l8sX5VSSStBlSptPkC0i8c3WNJs9vU9iCNpEvjxOPj6vsXn74mqiDdRT_AZU4VjMbcO3P4RfgGjC_TOI3W8/s1600/hearts+quiltedited.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCSAGN4u6O5eUBlc7kQ8uWkU9oVkDo0am87TBMsawdo1TEvE7GE6J8ISR1l8sX5VSSStBlSptPkC0i8c3WNJs9vU9iCNpEvjxOPj6vsXn74mqiDdRT_AZU4VjMbcO3P4RfgGjC_TOI3W8/s320/hearts+quiltedited.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Share the love!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />brown robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00240110591473818986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8180014130232534034.post-52886729864660466702012-02-02T16:39:00.000-05:002012-02-02T16:39:04.723-05:00Just checking in<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8l-6uBfdM3abPmiqMjNsP3p_ks7goTfZMoFdm-OSyYi43gE973k6RvF2-fe2siiB91kVyXKljEUie_2bN-pKrOH5X1WB9grM-jUvvJSJxGU-NxAlAGoVMd3Wo84Zws2_VO3liW5J-in8/s1600/photo+(1).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8l-6uBfdM3abPmiqMjNsP3p_ks7goTfZMoFdm-OSyYi43gE973k6RvF2-fe2siiB91kVyXKljEUie_2bN-pKrOH5X1WB9grM-jUvvJSJxGU-NxAlAGoVMd3Wo84Zws2_VO3liW5J-in8/s320/photo+(1).JPG" width="237" /></a></div>
<br />
I've been sick over the past 3 weeks and recovering from shingles on my face and in my ear. No fun. However, the silver lining is that it's a bit of a reminder to slow down. (I probably needed that.) Plus, we were supported throughout the roughest part by family and friends. There were meals, rides for the kids, and the extra hugs and attention that our kids needed from other loved ones in their life while their mama was down. It makes you realize how much people care about you... plain and simple. <br />
<br />
These owls are a creation made by the entire family, and there's more that didn't make it into the photo shoot. I drew different animals, my husband cut them out on the band saw, the kids painted them, and I wood burned the detailing. Really sweet and different from other crafty things I have tried.<br />
<br />
One quick plug for recipes.... we made it last night and everyone chowed down. It's a slow cooker chicken soup with avocado and cilantro on top. We followed the recipe more or less, using frozen tomatoes from our garden this summer and no mushrooms. Next time I'm doubling the batch because the best part was that after a full day of work, school, and activities, dinner was ready at 5. I was thrilled. Check it out at <a href="http://crockpot365.blogspot.com/2008/11/salsa-chicken-and-black-bean-soup.html">http://crockpot365.blogspot.com/2008/11/salsa-chicken-and-black-bean-soup.html</a>.<br />
<br />
So... back to life and trying to live it in a mindful way while raising kids and working. We are so lucky, aren't we? I'll check back in soon.brown robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00240110591473818986noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8180014130232534034.post-64513236033950952762012-01-03T18:02:00.001-05:002012-01-03T18:06:23.854-05:00IntentionsAh, the new year. It's arbitrary, I know. I get jazzed though. I have always relished the chance to evaluate my life, and then decide how I want to do things better. Often, I fall way short of any of those aspirations... my friends and family can attest. It feels like a giant cleanse to take stock, and then make decisions about what I want to change.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mW0x3ToZNbA/TwOE219_N7I/AAAAAAAAB44/UOyyKWZ8bIw/s1600/photo+%25285%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mW0x3ToZNbA/TwOE219_N7I/AAAAAAAAB44/UOyyKWZ8bIw/s640/photo+%25285%2529.JPG" width="471" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
How amazing it was to have 10 days off, to hang out with family and friends, to sew, to be outdoors. Oh, life is good. Now, I have a whole list of goals and intentions for this new year. Don't we all? Here's to a bright new year filled with peace, joy, adventure, love, and health.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SEADHECXq5o/TwOFSVi-dII/AAAAAAAAB5E/RbfJoxdeiFw/s1600/photo+%25284%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SEADHECXq5o/TwOFSVi-dII/AAAAAAAAB5E/RbfJoxdeiFw/s640/photo+%25284%2529.JPG" width="471" /></a></div>brown robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00240110591473818986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8180014130232534034.post-25053132298739790672011-12-23T20:17:00.007-05:002011-12-23T21:25:40.481-05:00It's beginning to feel a lot like Christmas<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left; ">Today was the first morning that I woke up and didn't have to get ready for work or take the kids to school. It was bliss. I opened my eyes and immediately felt jazzed about the day, and the next ten to come. No work, no school. I guess one of the truest perks of working (beyond income) is that it really makes you appreciate spending time with family.</span></div><div><br /><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJX4Lr99u8hc75Jv8TC3BUDb2WNYi1xTGAL9u9vrnCIw23fDm1IShO1wpzfVGFdPgmCfG4W60qDk4RvLZ3tPYk3hbdIaRxtJhhcLJiFVKL7qLs8fvUifeZf60N2Ev7n4VVSJ2WTig7h8E/s1600/christmas+2011+008.JPG" style="text-align: left; "><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJX4Lr99u8hc75Jv8TC3BUDb2WNYi1xTGAL9u9vrnCIw23fDm1IShO1wpzfVGFdPgmCfG4W60qDk4RvLZ3tPYk3hbdIaRxtJhhcLJiFVKL7qLs8fvUifeZf60N2Ev7n4VVSJ2WTig7h8E/s400/christmas+2011+008.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5689476000020990818" /></a></span><span style="text-align: left; "><div style="text-align: left;">The morning started with cookies being made, honey labelled with ribbons for gifts,and last minute wrappings of some felted ornaments that we have been making in the afternoons and evenings.</div></span></div></div><div><br /></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiTm26yU4s6hqc-uh8Qbv8YEx1cKjqDc09qsuhb9v6r6FLMgH-2JCNsY7KA1QPB962UVuzuPIY3WbLNiA6L8D3xr2VDhQSDJ9LbMYFKryNP62YbzGstehcgc0NcYeUXvW8aL68AiVQX1Y/s400/christmas+2011+009.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5689507396675248786" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " />We met with friends for lunch at their home, and enjoyed spending time and exchanging gifts. This was one of the handmade gifts from my friend (above.) Isn't she so talented?! It is one of the most beautiful ornaments I have ever received. Today we took pictures of our children in front of the tree for their ninth year together. We have done this every year since they were born, and it is something that is a hallmark of Christmas for me now. </div><div><br /></div><div>Every year, I remember the years before when they were all so much smaller, when somebody fell apart, when the picture was less than perfect, and we shook our heads and took the picture anyway. It is such a lovely way to capture each year as it passes in a tradition of being together and being who we are.</div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9lHK9oMtxyKOUmhbb3S83Bjmsg_Twvf_SVtGSN91d55u27JDZoPPbamhozNXLkRKY5OiXECAZ7jxCq7jQBZJPCxzBxCFKY9wUdBkEq8wn5yjhawdKcUpbIBnBhlHpxtPqK6qZWlasDas/s1600/christmas+2011+006.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9lHK9oMtxyKOUmhbb3S83Bjmsg_Twvf_SVtGSN91d55u27JDZoPPbamhozNXLkRKY5OiXECAZ7jxCq7jQBZJPCxzBxCFKY9wUdBkEq8wn5yjhawdKcUpbIBnBhlHpxtPqK6qZWlasDas/s400/christmas+2011+006.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5689475979392151442" /></a>Presents aren't under the tree in our home yet, but there have been many closed doors in the house though out the past couple of weeks, with whispering and planning. Tomorrow is the day. Things will be wrapped and placed. There will be inspections by the 5 and 8 year old. What has their name on it and does it rattle when shaken?<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span><u><br /></u></span></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl9j_YlcmfHGk_-MS3IS0RsikqKuJhezFEWdnRyKTREgmLCrm8uRgeN4ju5rIjguEcR7iL9svtuqNCPMqTlAwroIHixk2KPguV3wqj-6wBUJJcGx_hMdrmahqJBrybrgwhHo-b-DN2JLU/s1600/christmas+2011+003.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl9j_YlcmfHGk_-MS3IS0RsikqKuJhezFEWdnRyKTREgmLCrm8uRgeN4ju5rIjguEcR7iL9svtuqNCPMqTlAwroIHixk2KPguV3wqj-6wBUJJcGx_hMdrmahqJBrybrgwhHo-b-DN2JLU/s400/christmas+2011+003.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5689475971739832434" /></a><div style="text-align: left;">A gift for our solstice this year from my parents. It is an heirloom that will be cherished. We grew up with one of these on our table every winter, and the candles were always lit for Christmas dinner. I was so touched, and we have lit it each night since the solstice. It has been an unspoken dream of mine to have one for our family, and now we do.</div></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">So.... I'd like to wish you all Happy Holidays. It's my hope that they are filled with peace, joy, and love where ever you are in this world. Many blessings.</div>brown robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00240110591473818986noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8180014130232534034.post-48435529757231412172011-11-23T07:14:00.004-05:002011-11-23T07:14:00.317-05:00Giving thanks<div align="center"><em></em><em></em><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ2-7I-TMbiWeTXW7FeaOsu9cR7AnUT_t66pOaf0kSL74AFI9uM_lo0v_7r2m0Nn-0dvSaqqXZKqiumPRTPS8eo4oipI-6jDidUs6hn_McBVhbvEikDstp9C3jIsffGhyKx-E8iEvcdWU/s1600/brown+robin+337.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569219502416089570" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ2-7I-TMbiWeTXW7FeaOsu9cR7AnUT_t66pOaf0kSL74AFI9uM_lo0v_7r2m0Nn-0dvSaqqXZKqiumPRTPS8eo4oipI-6jDidUs6hn_McBVhbvEikDstp9C3jIsffGhyKx-E8iEvcdWU/s400/brown+robin+337.jpg" /></a> <em>wreath my husband made</em></div><br /><p>So many things to be thankful for in my life. I am looking forward to slowing down over the holiday and snuggling in with my family. Happy Thanksgiving everyone!</p>brown robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00240110591473818986noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8180014130232534034.post-72992023188786027582011-11-01T13:20:00.018-04:002011-11-01T13:54:00.905-04:00Survivor's Day<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGJJChIP36c2J-TpAFW11NVniYW9SvT87Gj8wz6Vvgyt7jwqicx66NzsF86xxp5PS0MNkZiWIG0YF6zihDXlKBkR1OjloKGkZx04mxT3r3bAXJ2zS9unx2Nx7WWplXelTkMPg5hCjiM20/s1600/DSC02140.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670086970507328450" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGJJChIP36c2J-TpAFW11NVniYW9SvT87Gj8wz6Vvgyt7jwqicx66NzsF86xxp5PS0MNkZiWIG0YF6zihDXlKBkR1OjloKGkZx04mxT3r3bAXJ2zS9unx2Nx7WWplXelTkMPg5hCjiM20/s400/DSC02140.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjglKIEBJlXLTMSS2leNMsF9PX3LJaz1yI5DPEmulLxqSJ1V-vyhuFc1Fbaw53aqrcvqkXt5hmmkiW96algeY-Eda-IPXum-oizCRspkG_t0J6ZTPkKnMjb2OeRT4aiONy7zgwVk_nVgzg/s1600/DSC00871.JPG"></a>Today is Dia De Los Muertos, the Day of the Dead. I am not Latin American, but found myself contemplating the holiday on this morning's run. Leaves littered the trail, and more were falling in the bright sunlight. The transition to winter was occurring before my eyes. I thought about those that have died in my life. That mixture of emotions that always accompanies such thoughts flowed through me, left behind with each stride. Then, I started thinking about parts of myself that have died, and been reborn. I started thinking in terms of all the seasons of change in my life, the many things that I have survived whether it was trauma from a dog attack, or my sister's suicide. I visualized all people in the world, and thought about how each of us is a survivor. We've all had struggles, illnesses, traumas, abuses, losses, defeats, challenges, heart break .... things that we have survived. I started thinking, "why don't we have a day that we call 'Survivor's Day?'" You know.... a day that we all celebrate being resilient, being strong, being hopeful, and nurturing every person's ability to rise above life's challenges. So, for me, every year, November 1, Dia De Los Muertos will be the day of the dead in which I celebrate the resilience of the human spirit and the beauty of living.... Survivor's Day.</div>brown robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00240110591473818986noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8180014130232534034.post-38526856662948486552011-09-18T16:33:00.002-04:002011-09-18T16:44:58.528-04:00These days...<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg31cReGWv-5_K9imrgKnUBH9QF37js04AC6PMOMgsZzSWBCOWnvF6BL4rh_KAL631x83FvYFm3aO8lIauIn8l1dxLmVyS-WYJOSaQnT9kryqi8bHTwDwTblWbSBW48wc1njtycxj6m2u4/s1600/DSC02157.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645932228474088514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg31cReGWv-5_K9imrgKnUBH9QF37js04AC6PMOMgsZzSWBCOWnvF6BL4rh_KAL631x83FvYFm3aO8lIauIn8l1dxLmVyS-WYJOSaQnT9kryqi8bHTwDwTblWbSBW48wc1njtycxj6m2u4/s400/DSC02157.JPG" border="0" /></a> I'm clinging to the last flowers of summer....<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp6PgnwlclowIYxQb-AKBkqKanNb8n1RH_jdsOCBZOHKfG7SlgCRcFYaXpYmW8oqQjKfc4HL9QFdkqVoizemSVh8u4g17eR2gwEhYJSFuVPT1NSYdc4va5p-xfPxGCWvIZ1rx1jTaKtN0/s1600/DSC02155.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645932223565303378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp6PgnwlclowIYxQb-AKBkqKanNb8n1RH_jdsOCBZOHKfG7SlgCRcFYaXpYmW8oqQjKfc4HL9QFdkqVoizemSVh8u4g17eR2gwEhYJSFuVPT1NSYdc4va5p-xfPxGCWvIZ1rx1jTaKtN0/s400/DSC02155.JPG" border="0" /></a> More than a little bummed that I couldn't do the Asheville Half Marathon with my running partner this weekend due to plantar fascitis that just will not go away....<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDhC1ol1CpKg-8yV663vs120behxhnJUBhJP8fZEAAiY_il9GWfh_zhbjqC32khbWifQFsoWBQKZClBsf4u_R71xKUv6J0eSORKTw6EC2tPOzXRWpgoxbUMjTwrLxaxqqLsENp-eqHT4c/s1600/DSC02152.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645932218448264962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDhC1ol1CpKg-8yV663vs120behxhnJUBhJP8fZEAAiY_il9GWfh_zhbjqC32khbWifQFsoWBQKZClBsf4u_R71xKUv6J0eSORKTw6EC2tPOzXRWpgoxbUMjTwrLxaxqqLsENp-eqHT4c/s400/DSC02152.JPG" border="0" /></a>Sewing tons for the November show because it hurts to be on my feet too much....<br />excuses, excuses, excuses.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRYYO5RxGdHZH23oEZlZWByTOnTb1G9mLczCpKV1eb1Fq4JXZafQCNqNTAfA72pUp1VGjSEcmh7Cuh8w85e0HgNTRpZZeIgMlKc5PfR_9ER2XadJ5u6UIvZCF_6DW8QYV8r_mB2oVErvg/s1600/DSC02151.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645932210720385890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRYYO5RxGdHZH23oEZlZWByTOnTb1G9mLczCpKV1eb1Fq4JXZafQCNqNTAfA72pUp1VGjSEcmh7Cuh8w85e0HgNTRpZZeIgMlKc5PfR_9ER2XadJ5u6UIvZCF_6DW8QYV8r_mB2oVErvg/s400/DSC02151.JPG" border="0" /></a> Feeling pretty grateful and content, all things considered.<br /></div>brown robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00240110591473818986noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8180014130232534034.post-71357362895677333852011-09-04T14:40:00.004-04:002011-09-04T14:43:23.620-04:00Goodbye, summer.<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK0uf9UNS2hqOtZ2TDAGSqc_KuMTHDEHv0bgUUElzzDoxnPIJvhaSVaehWsVBrZvam7q_tPPKveqNPTZrGXyrSjg3TMaFPbOrmWE5DhMDKUhuQdp1-v9DpN5njz_j6tIrqHSj3t9XOPcE/s1600/DSC02202.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645929675859629682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK0uf9UNS2hqOtZ2TDAGSqc_KuMTHDEHv0bgUUElzzDoxnPIJvhaSVaehWsVBrZvam7q_tPPKveqNPTZrGXyrSjg3TMaFPbOrmWE5DhMDKUhuQdp1-v9DpN5njz_j6tIrqHSj3t9XOPcE/s400/DSC02202.JPG" border="0" /></a> I can feel the long summer days sliding into fall.
<br />
<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhNfJhR-bObKoEbCZ88zS_hAPHwGuRvM1aC_oSguyiPWZubus1hUYZHcm_cdOajx8mjtydcvLKnH-VGt2TA6I7oYKlwbmIKDMlT8TJ_sz4NtH11R6JpR6nfFXJ9yjhiZPD0oU9iYTbICU/s1600/DSC02197.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645929673215708210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhNfJhR-bObKoEbCZ88zS_hAPHwGuRvM1aC_oSguyiPWZubus1hUYZHcm_cdOajx8mjtydcvLKnH-VGt2TA6I7oYKlwbmIKDMlT8TJ_sz4NtH11R6JpR6nfFXJ9yjhiZPD0oU9iYTbICU/s400/DSC02197.JPG" border="0" /></a>This year, it went by so quickly.
<br />
<br />
<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlkJUOQojw0zqbUqeUaSj1n7xpx-K2m6L4ccd4fmE7RolJnJxiNCsh5AKqnueDQMKRsd6nRx3SZ19Tbe2Pn-YzA2VigfwUWR5kUzLQ2tf3tKTACVAIsmIriaA-nt-6BdpdcnHFoppPaXo/s1600/DSC02195.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645929667452180514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlkJUOQojw0zqbUqeUaSj1n7xpx-K2m6L4ccd4fmE7RolJnJxiNCsh5AKqnueDQMKRsd6nRx3SZ19Tbe2Pn-YzA2VigfwUWR5kUzLQ2tf3tKTACVAIsmIriaA-nt-6BdpdcnHFoppPaXo/s400/DSC02195.JPG" border="0" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<br /><p align="center">I'm going to miss these beauties. </p>brown robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00240110591473818986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8180014130232534034.post-1809595862865151272011-08-29T10:59:00.002-04:002011-08-29T11:59:40.860-04:00A quilt for my sweet boy<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGb69mfmFlTD5rbE4PYzUxlqjhhq1xal_CDsSC8Cp6ld2-bAwDKflrScyAJvQlOduK3I-dETgeaqm1Nc9LGVQLDG7t6hGF86cqQwbDVAbMCXaiFB-zglV-vH_nL3yQnV8ocPMaRmAz4Pw/s1600/DSC02298.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645924930456677090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGb69mfmFlTD5rbE4PYzUxlqjhhq1xal_CDsSC8Cp6ld2-bAwDKflrScyAJvQlOduK3I-dETgeaqm1Nc9LGVQLDG7t6hGF86cqQwbDVAbMCXaiFB-zglV-vH_nL3yQnV8ocPMaRmAz4Pw/s400/DSC02298.JPG" border="0" /></a>
<br />
<br />In the last two weeks, my little guy turned 5 and started Kindergarten! I can just barely wrap my mind around this. When we arrived at the door of his classroom on the first day, he stopped and said, "mom... I don't need you anymore." My heart did a flip flop, but I quickly recovered, knelt down and said, "okay, buddy, so you don't want me to come in the classroom with you?" He replied, "Nope... I got it." So... I gave him a huge hug, and watched him walk into his first elementary classroom (that was filled with the other parents and their kids.) I walked about halfway down the hill from the school before my thoughtful smile turned into tears. My baby is in Kindergarten, and he is soooo ready. I felt many different emotions just as I had when <a href="http://brownrobin.blogspot.com/2008/08/first-day-of-school.html">my first went to Kindergarten</a>. This time, though, it was mostly a feeling of excitement for him.
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheSJyzSLugfMCk5q0iL2Wy8pgtKE_YvSEmViv4fnRYh6FXLU5IQMN5N1nhvMWueDjEFclgCh000ERW8d5xSrtR243ltbguGj2yBEijQPvD8eJaPGKwv8_Qu_91kTwtmC2hQL7oJ6dq8IM/s1600/DSC02296.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645923458140454946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheSJyzSLugfMCk5q0iL2Wy8pgtKE_YvSEmViv4fnRYh6FXLU5IQMN5N1nhvMWueDjEFclgCh000ERW8d5xSrtR243ltbguGj2yBEijQPvD8eJaPGKwv8_Qu_91kTwtmC2hQL7oJ6dq8IM/s400/DSC02296.JPG" border="0" /></a>
<br />
<br />
<br />A few days later, I got to bring Popsicles to the classroom for his birthday. The teacher greeted me and told me she couldn't believe that he was the youngest in the class. She told me that he was one of "the most with it" kids in the class and that he was doing awesome. Maybe teachers say this to parents all the time, but it meant so much to me. I have agonized about the decision to send him to Kindergarten when he would turn 5 after it started. The thing is, all indicators in every area point to the fact that he is completely ready. I can't tell you though, how strongly the majority of public opinion is slanted towards delayed start for our boys, ready or not. Everybody and their brother has expressed this opinion to me, which really is too bad. It's none of their business and it is hurtful. So I've held my head high, listened to my inner voice, watched for any signs that I got it wrong, and cheered him as he bounces in and out of the door to school each day.
<br />
<br />
<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgle5-ow7W-HqPVdAlTOZgdv6AyZnnsQ7I4txhRZ14hrltxsqsjfL-lLWzwR6fDAZgJg_eIa3ZdFQu2SvIvlIlySBbiA-Tf8QtmSFBByPzsQfOQpoSBSYJGb79IHn0My2k9H_pH_WgUtNA/s1600/DSC02295.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645923451210713650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgle5-ow7W-HqPVdAlTOZgdv6AyZnnsQ7I4txhRZ14hrltxsqsjfL-lLWzwR6fDAZgJg_eIa3ZdFQu2SvIvlIlySBbiA-Tf8QtmSFBByPzsQfOQpoSBSYJGb79IHn0My2k9H_pH_WgUtNA/s400/DSC02295.JPG" border="0" /></a>
<br />
<br />I had hoped to have this quilt done by his birthday, but you know how it is. Instead, I gave him a stack of 20 improv log cabin squares that I've constructed over the past year. It was really so sweet to watch him carefully look at each one with his sister. He was over the moon that I'm making him a twin quilt for his bed. Now, I'm in the process of sewing on the sashing... Kona snow cotton. I'll explain that process when I get the top completely done and show it to you. My friend, Katie at <a href="http://sewkatiedid.wordpress.com/">sewkatiedid</a> gave me the suggestion. (She's so smart!)
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCFQ8MCitnaIljufRaZG4sGBa69FsC9N2FIvM49mOIb7j7bJDNK67mfnFMiZQD6S_EGCsxV11pnXJvUbxa5Jc7B90t52SJm9ztJRL8k5XhXewe8DS9bYq4kNSF1rVuic3qgFsNMOgGAE8/s1600/DSC02292.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645923449168095938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCFQ8MCitnaIljufRaZG4sGBa69FsC9N2FIvM49mOIb7j7bJDNK67mfnFMiZQD6S_EGCsxV11pnXJvUbxa5Jc7B90t52SJm9ztJRL8k5XhXewe8DS9bYq4kNSF1rVuic3qgFsNMOgGAE8/s400/DSC02292.JPG" border="0" /></a></div>
<br /><div></div>
<br /><div>So this morning is really the first morning I've had to myself since they both started school. I decided to give myself a few hours for what I'm calling a mini-vacation since I never really had one this summer. It feels so good to let go and sew just for fun. I think I could definitely get used to this!</div>
<br />brown robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00240110591473818986noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8180014130232534034.post-21886111799494120472011-07-27T19:50:00.009-04:002011-07-27T20:51:58.410-04:00Camp Mommy<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631233835410985458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgTKyC-WBBhpYuHukn4bYROX2b7hn3tfPqrzgxsnwNSKGojehFPtWyv_4UjgxcvmNSFPQ8c6ZP_tlFtY6rWqra3cMeOTnL25TbsIh_qvYz-KD19fDj5bFH26N-CVzMF77FWihmAIBp4Fk/s400/102.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="left">She only gets one camp during the summer.... it's been that way since she was old enough to attend a program. Our little guy? Next year will be his time. It's what we can afford, so the onus has always fallen on me to stimulate their creative minds and meet their needs. We have a pool membership and that gets lots of energy out in the first part of the day. (That we've done for 6 years... no regrets and $ well spent.) So what do we do every afternoon? There are play dates here and there, but then there's "Camp Heather." </div><br /><div align="left"></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631233839738532194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5bgymQqlajEZnJw0ZK0EAg1z_dODzN3S5qo09tPkyX-SDetWmPSdCKUNjfo9A8Qh2p8ZqA00iZyuL2W_15B8udNV8VbD6pExzqYXWGfL2SypGadQfZvP31kAjnnvUvABQRRHs2o91vIE/s400/108.JPG" border="0" />This summer it has been playing board/card games, sewing, artwork, reading, building with Lego's. My little guy still gets some quiet time most days, which often results in him falling asleep. (We all need a break from his exuberance.) It's funny how now that I'm working and putting my energy towards other people's children (doing therapy), I'm valuing this time with my own kids so much more this summer. There was a time, not too long ago, when big chunks of summer were grueling for me. I was often short tempered with two young kids for long hours, and sorely in need of some time to myself. I find myself stressed by different things now.... work, schedules, logistics. I make time for myself by rising at 5:30 a.m. and running. I crave time at home with just our family. I sometimes don't want to talk to anybody; I just want to escape from the problems and business of the world. I have to take deep breaths even more often these days, but it's in an effort to keep up with the pace of our busy schedule.<br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631233848188604962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHH-1rsCDUqAHcbaulge56ze9GpZ19Lq5dOCRxjD1PjaHKOUSc-sbV7zm86VG8aTxKWc20qJ_S1w5wVvpJuqIP5eb6Rz1EHDYOWhLktp4AXszriq0qhPH43ls_fRguPhUKosr82NRUhAw/s400/103.JPG" border="0" />When did it all shift? I missed the delineating moment. Here we are, eight years later, and time spent with her in the afternoons is what can be so settling for me. Swimming in the pool with him can be the thing that brings joy to my day. Pinch me. It's all going too fast. Still, I'm far from perfect and one exhausted mommy at the end of every day. I want to hang on to it all and I'm driven to live every moment, even the difficult ones. My, what full moments they have been. How lucky I am to be at home with them, working part-time and not full-time. I remind myself every time I feel tired, stressed, or envious of others. I have a good life, indeed.... yes, I do.brown robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00240110591473818986noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8180014130232534034.post-89496089693894514722011-07-20T15:18:00.003-04:002011-07-20T15:21:19.918-04:00Summertime sewing<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNRJIHykiZbgDV5afQtLtCkdrSSwdPruEvd0SGoT5Y1ZO4nvWmd0-AmhM8f2yrkLI6GYhMPI2fCx6sSwZb9St0i8EbESUKRokJZIOp81Jh-B6SsTt-aCF3Cmj_V16hue9Vbi-9Hp2O7-Q/s1600/037.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631225886783357954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNRJIHykiZbgDV5afQtLtCkdrSSwdPruEvd0SGoT5Y1ZO4nvWmd0-AmhM8f2yrkLI6GYhMPI2fCx6sSwZb9St0i8EbESUKRokJZIOp81Jh-B6SsTt-aCF3Cmj_V16hue9Vbi-9Hp2O7-Q/s400/037.JPG" border="0" /></a>In between eating from our garden, working part-time, pool visits, running, and bike riding with the kids, I've been fitting in a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">smidgen</span> of quilting here and there. This one's for my <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">niece</span> who turns 1 in a couple of months. I've got some other's that I'm working on.... really three, but who's counting?! They'll get done eventually and it's all about therapy for me if you get right down to it.<br /><br /><div align="center"><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631225875278782178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihhhe74hHK8aErtUqlMxP0KlakoJGoy6XUImHW-gg09bxp8d-iVWCkVlz-_p3JJiV3WrQmr03xASrkxSrDShjXhud5erCuSQIYSz_yLnSUWxGk-Ru4mHuF3kqng4gDF2t7GFidS_7qcVE/s400/035.JPG" border="0" />I straight line quilted this one and kept it nice and light for that sweet girl. The better to mush between her teeny tiny fingers as she's falling asleep.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR7zHlD1PsYBdpZi-RRExI_kEuT0gnSUTq3AO1QjNvJ-oRdst1XIKT6z3oTaReeAfHpLtV52YgU8fhNkNYzpSYZr7YGLOkd_PrW7qWZY8JKgRrMrPsS7Sjc8zFv8S4scmv7Kq63JrAIxc/s1600/039.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631225878417728098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR7zHlD1PsYBdpZi-RRExI_kEuT0gnSUTq3AO1QjNvJ-oRdst1XIKT6z3oTaReeAfHpLtV52YgU8fhNkNYzpSYZr7YGLOkd_PrW7qWZY8JKgRrMrPsS7Sjc8zFv8S4scmv7Kq63JrAIxc/s400/039.JPG" border="0" /></a> I had a ball doing straight line quilting! I always use free motion because I so love drawing with the thread. I like the way it came together though, and the quilting fit the look of the quilt. There's squares from the clothing of my kids in there because every baby quilt needs that "I heart you history part." Really, lots of the fabrics in the quilt hold different memories for me. It was a lovely way to share a chunk of us with this spirited, beautiful, not-so-new addition to our family.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHMlXundtmezoXQQ812zx9NuKD0oDw-5jTLpg4wJcwZ8iaMz5IW4Uj8n3vzcXb0ChYSFOc8AtegdORe8W539QcLhjJmexACPnemxYPJGn_oI866lUgtW-E46v1x_fGoxSXMCRkVk1EocU/s1600/032.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631225869323420930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHMlXundtmezoXQQ812zx9NuKD0oDw-5jTLpg4wJcwZ8iaMz5IW4Uj8n3vzcXb0ChYSFOc8AtegdORe8W539QcLhjJmexACPnemxYPJGn_oI866lUgtW-E46v1x_fGoxSXMCRkVk1EocU/s400/032.JPG" border="0" /></a></div>brown robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00240110591473818986noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8180014130232534034.post-22393154136442468802011-07-07T16:53:00.001-04:002011-07-07T17:29:29.638-04:00Honey and bees<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3-crptiaLEIZ2y9BjmyoBD7Jn3s7GsR_vCMnP-Y6snuVpLmYPTYbh9e7ZAyxvXQc5VuMfwXwxbJ8IRqL9eVyjJTZf_saqvGeq3pW7x6QgU0bMsIiHHOXpJaQHRHYNhuTgLZ_VwdGPEQM/s1600/swarm.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617442410052965154" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3-crptiaLEIZ2y9BjmyoBD7Jn3s7GsR_vCMnP-Y6snuVpLmYPTYbh9e7ZAyxvXQc5VuMfwXwxbJ8IRqL9eVyjJTZf_saqvGeq3pW7x6QgU0bMsIiHHOXpJaQHRHYNhuTgLZ_VwdGPEQM/s320/swarm.JPG" /></a><br />Oh... they keep us busy (the bees, I mean.) I've lost track of the number of swarms since this spring. I've also lost track of the number of gallons of honey we've harvested... 30, maybe? (Note that 4 year old ever so gently running his finger down the swarm of bees. Being raised with honey bees = complete comfort with them.)<br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF8JRDpTsZkd6VofXZZpusEQtoKOouxLs9aB98Pqy1pd3sdFbm7atFVHDNW7BdvbR06gH1gbHSTrttuLRh7PAhvsijUZY5TGaaO-YXNlgZQSrBzOERc2wJ47oCpmjane7xkv-q-pqqEs4/s1600/swarm+2.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617442404418849874" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF8JRDpTsZkd6VofXZZpusEQtoKOouxLs9aB98Pqy1pd3sdFbm7atFVHDNW7BdvbR06gH1gbHSTrttuLRh7PAhvsijUZY5TGaaO-YXNlgZQSrBzOERc2wJ47oCpmjane7xkv-q-pqqEs4/s320/swarm+2.JPG" /></a><br />It's just the busy time of year around here. Maybe it always is. Hmmm. Maybe that's not changing any day soon. Still, I love it.<br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnYmutYI_i-Vb9mN9ms5xxeEg0K8iVshE9v5HseLszSUzreLOoFD6hRe8KerGBpRB-9yl5wsnu-vi4ITko66-wWVUk-SODJOD2XY28UQwfy-Yea3N5VOQlJ3vkJwGB0rJKFNzCnvQRp3A/s1600/swarm+3.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617442399964376754" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnYmutYI_i-Vb9mN9ms5xxeEg0K8iVshE9v5HseLszSUzreLOoFD6hRe8KerGBpRB-9yl5wsnu-vi4ITko66-wWVUk-SODJOD2XY28UQwfy-Yea3N5VOQlJ3vkJwGB0rJKFNzCnvQRp3A/s320/swarm+3.JPG" /></a> All I need now is their infinite energy.</div></div>brown robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00240110591473818986noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8180014130232534034.post-73209427557667291552011-06-20T16:00:00.013-04:002011-06-20T17:26:01.349-04:00Food for thought<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIcUgzMCxKoOXW4mp8DRpFSPVMfEw4Ylfwj0N-pX5J1DxJoMFsOuveD1MGQi_VaattH21MYxffJfVqbYJJTVBgeCNod-VuwQ3-4DBDPSutS2hx_n1qdOgHUvqgkLtjTdiISzJfpMqNtlU/s1600/appe.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 299px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620085786577404066" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIcUgzMCxKoOXW4mp8DRpFSPVMfEw4Ylfwj0N-pX5J1DxJoMFsOuveD1MGQi_VaattH21MYxffJfVqbYJJTVBgeCNod-VuwQ3-4DBDPSutS2hx_n1qdOgHUvqgkLtjTdiISzJfpMqNtlU/s400/appe.jpg" /></a><br />Our daughter made this appetizer all on her own and surprised us with her creation. She went to the garden, picked the peas and basil, brought them to the kitchen, and created a dip with olive oil and sea salt. She displayed all of this with her usual artistic flair. I was completely surprised, but I shouldn't have been. She has been raised with parents who love sharing good food, and she is an incredible artist.<br /><br />That got me to thinking. Is it just who she is, or how we've raised her? If I'm honest with myself, it's probably a bit of both. When it comes to parenting, the whole thing is largely an intuitive process for me. Some days I have it, some days I don't. My husband and I are good parents who make mistakes. Despite the mistakes, it's gratifying to realize that some of the things we've done along the way have affected our children positively. For our kids, raising food and having honey bees is one of those things.<br /><br /><br /><div>My first vegetable garden was one that I planted was 15 years ago. I remember then, that it seemed like some mystery. How could people grown such an abundance of food from a few packets of seeds? A couple of friends gave me advice, I read "Square Foot Gardening," and I dug up the grass in the back of our rental to create my vege patch. I was completely awed that we had so much zucchini that summer, I didn't know what to do with it all. (I made a whole heck of a lot of zucchini bread.) Suddenly, raising vegetables was no longer something other people did; it became what I did.</div><br /><br /><div>I've had vegetable gardens every summer since. Some gardens have been more prolific than others, and I've learned a ton along the way. My biggest advice would be"just do it!" It's really not that difficult and there is plenty of room for error. Plants are miraculous in their ability to grow. You don't have to do everything perfectly the way some gardening books make it sound. Just put a plant or seed in the ground or a pot. See what happens. See if it changes the rhythm of your days, or the way you view the world. Maybe it becomes the center of your summers with your children.</div><br /><br /><div>But, back to that parenting part. I often notice parents who spend a great deal of time reading parenting books, or planning the activities that will enhance their children's future abilities. I worry sometimes, if we are meeting our children's needs. Perhaps I need to read a book or two. Maybe they should be enrolled in more activities. I have times where I question myself as a parent relentlessly. Then there is some small moment that reminds me that as a family, we're on the right track. We have a rhythm that works well for us. Naturally setting an example for our children by the way we live is one of the greatest things we could teach them. So the fact that our lives are infused by our vegetable garden and our honeybees is an incredible education. We didn't necessarily plan that, but it's an extension of who we are. Our children know where there food comes from. They are a part of putting the seed in the ground. They understand the importance of bees in the pollination of their food. They are in the garden several times a day, observing, picking, and playing. Without realizing it, we have given them a lifestyle that meets their needs. </div><br /><br /><div>So how, you might ask, does one plate of appetizers generate all that thought in this mama? I don't really know. That's me, I guess. I wanted to write it down so that I could look back and remember how right this all feels... how perfect the presentation of her appetizer was in my life on that June evening when she was eight. I wanted to have a written reference for those days when my head gets going and I lose sight of my inner peace. That plate of sugar snap peas and basil gave me a sense of serenity.... a reminder that I need to stop worrying, let go, and enjoy the abundance that we have. Living in the moment, rather than worrying about the future, is all about relishing that plate of food that my daughter picked from our garden and beautifully prepared for her family. Really. For me... it is.</div>brown robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00240110591473818986noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8180014130232534034.post-12955119272964036592011-05-31T06:48:00.006-04:002011-05-31T06:48:00.720-04:00Turning 40!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq-uWkNIt_NE2kL3kQxXyClz7b7B-llrV38E8WgYLI9FZ248sNQ4m-8awPqeP69G8TNQhzFsVW6lshzfxR6kX_Q2PfWg1s9oSFIyRtmHSeEmE87X4bLXhC1UrAi-FrqwCJheHfKw2Xpc0/s1600/heather.narrows+of+green.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612621882497302546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 232px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq-uWkNIt_NE2kL3kQxXyClz7b7B-llrV38E8WgYLI9FZ248sNQ4m-8awPqeP69G8TNQhzFsVW6lshzfxR6kX_Q2PfWg1s9oSFIyRtmHSeEmE87X4bLXhC1UrAi-FrqwCJheHfKw2Xpc0/s320/heather.narrows+of+green.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>I swear, 40 is the new 30, but it was a big deal for me. I'm not apologizing one bit. I went through a process with this one. It was something that I will value for years to come. A cliff notes version would be, "do I want to the next 4o years to replicate any/all of the same behaviors/choices as the first 4o years?" In the weeks leading up to the event of my birthday, I found myself feeling shaky, critical of myself, and low. It was kind of interesting. A month or so before that I had been feeling genuinely excited. Why the up and down? </div><br /><br /><div>In the end, my actual birthday weekend was just lovely. It was filled with my friends and family. There were sweet surprises, and caring gestures. It was everything that I could have hoped for. But there was more. I felt a shift within myself. I celebrated last weekend with another half marathon in the woods, this time by myself. It was equally as exhilarating as the last. I realized that I feel strong, loved, and I know where I want to go. In the last year, I have worked through a lot. In my lifetime.... well, I am proud of my accomplishments. They have all been hard earned, and I am graced by beauty and profound love almost every day.</div><br /><br /><div>So... the picture above? A mystery to you until now. That's me in the boat a mere 15 years ago, while my husband (friend at the time) watches me run a class V creek rapid on the narrows of the Green River in Western North Carolina. I have seen and done so much.... come so far. If you knew me today at the kids' schools, or at work, or in the grocery, you may never have guessed all there is to know about me in the past 40 years. The same is true for every single one of us in a variety of different ways. We all have pasts, we all have extraordinary moments, and we all have struggles. Living in the present is a constant mantra for me. But what if you dared to look deep into some one's eyes to know them more fully? If you did that with me, you would know the strength, feisty determination, and kindness all wrapped into one mama who turned 40 just a few short weeks ago. </div>brown robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00240110591473818986noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8180014130232534034.post-20216930162384475842011-05-04T16:44:00.003-04:002011-05-04T18:08:56.167-04:00Being a mama....<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSukxv8koCdX-HsDKQ4VX2205e6Aeq2IZbHJ64RF_LQbdHNtOvLDqfYzV2xvytlFStoavTI4yysDpJxlUtEWIiWCREzs4TxJcWQhw8iS1nwJRspn-TW-MmY0HXMFkxVaQ7APZVNf1Evj4/s1600/DSC01642.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600403379289687826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSukxv8koCdX-HsDKQ4VX2205e6Aeq2IZbHJ64RF_LQbdHNtOvLDqfYzV2xvytlFStoavTI4yysDpJxlUtEWIiWCREzs4TxJcWQhw8iS1nwJRspn-TW-MmY0HXMFkxVaQ7APZVNf1Evj4/s320/DSC01642.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr1VunxHfX4yF5geFZ6kkfMo-9iSejINm2pcFoY4iUntNkMu2a1f7z-pU9UTnB6XBSRlw9_ysAVl5qMk2gi_LwtkY2wBKA-S6pcP7WqYGvaVodrWw3AfS2DgSCTUM_ysKy4GFweQc1wgM/s1600/DSC01641.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600402214861670130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr1VunxHfX4yF5geFZ6kkfMo-9iSejINm2pcFoY4iUntNkMu2a1f7z-pU9UTnB6XBSRlw9_ysAVl5qMk2gi_LwtkY2wBKA-S6pcP7WqYGvaVodrWw3AfS2DgSCTUM_ysKy4GFweQc1wgM/s320/DSC01641.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7pwyVcWDWaQ_O7hZfBGGABTthB23zErvMeK9irdDYwLMLc1Z_GIva36D7uZt1v0hw7ikA-mEAHbOEUmatPWnKpjUQHnz4rt3pkbFgJfn0-ckCLgnJfWgfabt-knpZ3KOweB3cnCrjLBQ/s1600/DSC01640.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600402211211727202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7pwyVcWDWaQ_O7hZfBGGABTthB23zErvMeK9irdDYwLMLc1Z_GIva36D7uZt1v0hw7ikA-mEAHbOEUmatPWnKpjUQHnz4rt3pkbFgJfn0-ckCLgnJfWgfabt-knpZ3KOweB3cnCrjLBQ/s320/DSC01640.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn0a7EfRrj80peHAZCKBrb-LIxj57rvZx3QyBulL6W-MQ5x5evJ3DWWU6QvrceiHp4lGJDxyXNBZqCX_2JYVmgbOIX23fXLBD4Ku2hJHfqqgW7xa5hyphenhyphenDyd0xj92_d3uDrmCiggHpcimdA/s1600/DSC01639.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600402207792204834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn0a7EfRrj80peHAZCKBrb-LIxj57rvZx3QyBulL6W-MQ5x5evJ3DWWU6QvrceiHp4lGJDxyXNBZqCX_2JYVmgbOIX23fXLBD4Ku2hJHfqqgW7xa5hyphenhyphenDyd0xj92_d3uDrmCiggHpcimdA/s320/DSC01639.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUn-ZrQx_dnFKTTuXJm3qNxNP4_MZkAGYOS1a4pknVXZk124NXq0KJfFFdEEZW07TmXkt4v-6czbATVLiuj4hJwxYl-BuzJU3ZESl6AImc5OOAvyxEx3C3WIcH0HltZv58v472kO4bR7E/s1600/DSC01638.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600402206541987362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUn-ZrQx_dnFKTTuXJm3qNxNP4_MZkAGYOS1a4pknVXZk124NXq0KJfFFdEEZW07TmXkt4v-6czbATVLiuj4hJwxYl-BuzJU3ZESl6AImc5OOAvyxEx3C3WIcH0HltZv58v472kO4bR7E/s320/DSC01638.JPG" border="0" /></a>How does it happen? Eight years can fly by. I still remember the absolute awe I felt at the swelling of my belly. Now, here she is. Eight years later. So much has changed. She has. I have. We have. I now know love that <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">extends</span> from the crown of my head to the tip of my toes. Being a mother challenges me and simultaneously completes me.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I've got this beautiful, intelligent, extraordinary eight year old who still loves to wear the clothes her mama makes her on her birthday. She wears them every day with leggings and t-shirts. As long as she's into it, I'm making her clothes! </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>There are so many things about being a mama that I never could have imagined. Sometimes I'm tired and ordinary, sometimes I'm awesome. Once I had one, then there came two; that changed everything. It's a struggle at times to juggle it all. Kids have more energy than adults... that is a fact that I dare you to dispute. Hands down, the blog, comes last. But can I just tell you that in some way, all of it makes me who I am? And in the very same breath, I can tell you that I am a better mama thanks to the eight year old and four year old who have graced my life. So... skirts for my girl, as long as she wants them, and blog posts every so once in a while!</div><br /><div></div><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600700868690666194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg62t-9fhm_1eeWXVtKAd28HVUss4EZFpo60xwcFIX524p9qMw_Z6BocPl-1gsP0ggDnMajw0E0wv6OODw8G0PuNg_M4u-rM0kUU8qlwnVqql9LSPrTy0z0IS8vpsMlwM_nY4CP1aYbQk/s320/DSC01664.JPG" border="0" /></div></div></div></div></div>brown robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00240110591473818986noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8180014130232534034.post-9154407195831714692011-04-27T18:11:00.024-04:002011-04-27T20:35:34.521-04:00Morels<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsjZAEfqyiFjN0xSmxq4HR400s2fM3O_0x1jPe0FiYfamJmTdjub_xQeZgW0jpI9hj9Eho-T-L1oQYaGWm_hry4p-eoKY2Nfjh7vX9brUwOMnvfqqYwMfYDi_KHtmYPdGzWdMEUTVOQYA/s1600/DSC01727.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600391559287949234" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsjZAEfqyiFjN0xSmxq4HR400s2fM3O_0x1jPe0FiYfamJmTdjub_xQeZgW0jpI9hj9Eho-T-L1oQYaGWm_hry4p-eoKY2Nfjh7vX9brUwOMnvfqqYwMfYDi_KHtmYPdGzWdMEUTVOQYA/s320/DSC01727.JPG" /></a>I've shared so many of our family traditions that it's hard to believe this one has never made it to my blog. One of the things that designates Spring for us is Morel hunting. It's an amazing thing to gather your food from the woods... food, might I add, that sells for over a $100 per pound. Lovely, earthy incredible morel mushrooms. (And I'm not the biggest mushroom fan on the planet.) In one haul this spring, my husband brought home 7 pounds! I have to tell you, it's kind of like Easter egg hunting, but on a much grander, more satisfying scale.<br /><br />Friends of ours were here this weekend and they all went hunting. The kids were so excited to see what they brought home. We ate omelettes with Morel sauce, fish with Morels coating it, and a Morel white pizza with greek olives and roasted peppers. I'm still salivating over that pizza.<br /><br />A quick recipe is to saute the morels in butter and olive oil with fresh chopped garlic and onions. Add in some white wine and reduce. Add in some sea salt, or truffle salt to taste. If you want a cream sauce, add half and half, or cream. If you want a clear sauce, add broth. You can skip both the broth and the cream sauce if you just want some sauteed morels to put over a dish. Have fun with it. You can't go wrong. It is oh, so good! (This approximation of a recipe is compliments of our friend who owns a pasta and wine shop.) <br /><br />There are plenty of online sites that describe morels, how to find them, hunting with kids, and recipes. One is <a href="http://thegreatmorel.com/">here</a>. Maybe a new family tradition is waiting for you. <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnWqts8ubSFVN1GckJ1LqH8-WqVULWe87MxdY9SlMZsl-eclgAwcZnqaafIkUfqi1B5ulLUqR4ZMkcN03yB3TrEEM1ZeHEj56RhWeh3KV1p-2MEXcwUhjJZzCbfSszQMBSma_D28vV-Bk/s1600/DSC01729.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600390657580536530" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnWqts8ubSFVN1GckJ1LqH8-WqVULWe87MxdY9SlMZsl-eclgAwcZnqaafIkUfqi1B5ulLUqR4ZMkcN03yB3TrEEM1ZeHEj56RhWeh3KV1p-2MEXcwUhjJZzCbfSszQMBSma_D28vV-Bk/s320/DSC01729.JPG" /></a>brown robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00240110591473818986noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8180014130232534034.post-70064377425330913452011-04-22T17:22:00.001-04:002011-04-22T17:32:50.806-04:00Happy Earth Day and Easter!<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVxJnguTgILhUJqlNy0wc13eXjLw2QHvU-5Coh6m8VCpiMSTcARbQDC8MCMWmE3pGkzy5ucfVinGbRKbS3rJZUsK0_MrukOLMdwTvTW0IdpRddS_KD7s-Qm5NLjQ7nSxRP0HCf5UcU0Ng/s1600/tasha+tudor+easter.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 289px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591068946208866722" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVxJnguTgILhUJqlNy0wc13eXjLw2QHvU-5Coh6m8VCpiMSTcARbQDC8MCMWmE3pGkzy5ucfVinGbRKbS3rJZUsK0_MrukOLMdwTvTW0IdpRddS_KD7s-Qm5NLjQ7nSxRP0HCf5UcU0Ng/s400/tasha+tudor+easter.jpg" /></a><em><span style="font-size:85%;"> taken from a Tasha Tudor book that was a part of my childhood<br /></span></em><br /><br /><div align="left">I have so much to show and tell, but it's that time of year isn't it? We're busy planting whenever we can, and life just keeps on clipping along. I have some sewing projects and a quilt to share. Just now, though, we're boiling eggs after quite the Earth Day celebration. Have a wonderful weekend with your family and friends! See you back in this space soon.</div></div>brown robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00240110591473818986noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8180014130232534034.post-30729189452943404172011-04-11T14:36:00.037-04:002011-04-11T16:16:29.760-04:00Friendship and RunningI never post pictures of myself on my blog, so why I would start doing so with a picture taken after 13.1 miles is beyond me. I must still be on a runner's high. It was just so amazing. I loved every minute of the run. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsaAfQXhdCUpyau6EVUWN3Tp23Fur-48W7T8CF-Z8vRXEumh0JtaG3-Wa_sXSiB2Ny4j8WuDrbag0dRGAw4lGKtwqEYAgJN-um-WsrXS9Cpkg-SpWff8d_ldIs9gDX_bmMjcrP7x8mUpk/s1600/dupont+half.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 191px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594396994060722866" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsaAfQXhdCUpyau6EVUWN3Tp23Fur-48W7T8CF-Z8vRXEumh0JtaG3-Wa_sXSiB2Ny4j8WuDrbag0dRGAw4lGKtwqEYAgJN-um-WsrXS9Cpkg-SpWff8d_ldIs9gDX_bmMjcrP7x8mUpk/s320/dupont+half.jpg" /></a> Running is something I started doing in junior high. I remember seeing my friend's mom jogging around the block. My brain went "click." "Oh," I thought. "I could do that too." I was already a soccer player, but it had never occurred to me that you could go running in your neighborhood with no other purpose than to make it from point A to point B. I was hooked. It became my therapy, and it still is today. It just makes me feel sooooo good. I signed up for this Half Marathon back in January. The run took place on my sister's death date and I figured it would be a way to celebrate instead of feeling sad. I didn't know another soul running it, but I signed up anyway. I have run by myself for years. I haven't had a running partner since my last one left the country more than a dozen years ago. (Don't raise your eyebrows. She didn't leave because of me!) The thing is, due to my fear of dogs thanks to <a href="http://brownrobin.blogspot.com/2010/08/really.html">this</a>, I was running whenever I thought no one else would be on the trails. For instance, when it was 25 degrees early in the morning instead of a balmy 5o degrees in the afternoons. I was determined to keep running no matter how bad my fears were. All that changed when Liz and I started running together. She became the one who boosted my confidence about dog encounters and literally shielded me with her body by passing between the dogs and me. I was initially ashamed and embarassed that she had become a witness to my panicked encounters with dogs. Always, she made me feel normal as I struggled to work through the PTSD from the dog attack. Now, can you ask more from a friend and running partner than that? I am so grateful. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 191px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594397251559714738" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlOXX07p6ztIBWCVU27t3c_E-Q3FfwWYSFsz2R-Nj11c_Dn09uo8MfZP6hxYdX8WZfwnxNwpZliTgT94Ck2BNK1CXvtaFUUmtcKCjy5YwnLNU-6jleZeZ85FRyK3HtrIM94ogAbVNFwMk/s320/dupont+half+2.jpg" /> <br /><div>So, you can read all about her account of the Half Marathon and our friendship <a href="http://olliekate.blogspot.com/2011/04/my-first-r12.html">here</a> on her blog. Just know, though, that I'm counting my lucky stars that she's been with me on all those training runs. She's one of the reasons I'm able to pass a dog without shaking uncontrollably, crying, or hiding behind trees. She's been a part of helping me to do something that has been bigger and harder than a Half Marathon (because the PTSD was really that bad for me a few short months ago.) She's been the friend that I couldn't have done it without. Thank YOU, Liz. Here's to years of friendship and running.</div>brown robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00240110591473818986noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8180014130232534034.post-6736135490623672122011-03-25T06:01:00.002-04:002011-03-25T06:01:02.419-04:00finished!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT9dcVeTwvZyFUPlyZBFboqUc_TgvVvkdk_VwxOPPSywBLDHQzGD2G1ZcUPY45vZ3nWDwOhwwnAL6tkEUYR083gXT3n_YQHrMdl1ShGRhX5I2bs1FXD70lgbRpAi1Si2O38Vyx7NyXQL0/s1600/oak+1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 355px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586626432728032770" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT9dcVeTwvZyFUPlyZBFboqUc_TgvVvkdk_VwxOPPSywBLDHQzGD2G1ZcUPY45vZ3nWDwOhwwnAL6tkEUYR083gXT3n_YQHrMdl1ShGRhX5I2bs1FXD70lgbRpAi1Si2O38Vyx7NyXQL0/s400/oak+1.jpg" /></a> Here it is! My latest quilt. It took me almost a year to complete, but who's counting. It's funny how hesitant I am to share any of my quilts on my blog. I am not prolific, nor extremely accomplished, but I do so love patchwork and free motion quilting.<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFciYwHgOO9atI6Mz3TzEheURsWNqcEF9liLwUShACKn09ojpS2wGIGdx-vpgyoBHRZt51WaR1Ak4gkQsyumKwFqZbzX9VWRSKjyJTOPVtFuuMDz_i12TIblp92XkBZ9Wb6EQd58oy38c/s1600/oak+2.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 284px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586626419522977314" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFciYwHgOO9atI6Mz3TzEheURsWNqcEF9liLwUShACKn09ojpS2wGIGdx-vpgyoBHRZt51WaR1Ak4gkQsyumKwFqZbzX9VWRSKjyJTOPVtFuuMDz_i12TIblp92XkBZ9Wb6EQd58oy38c/s400/oak+2.jpg" /></a><br />This one is for close friends. In memory of their son, Alexander Oak. I quilted a tree in the middle and leaves throughout.<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh86i3jVtVmXBMMBrzVenkCQlvKXDhMYtZS365T3foIS92b-pDnIPwGu_kkvBFTjqbndefcnFHdBZ9w9ODGW3cXbpGMoZdysUM9kUjUYl5PRCE85Yi-qZB9FCflL7DNpTNhdZN_BgiEgmU/s1600/oak+3.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586626421088109426" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh86i3jVtVmXBMMBrzVenkCQlvKXDhMYtZS365T3foIS92b-pDnIPwGu_kkvBFTjqbndefcnFHdBZ9w9ODGW3cXbpGMoZdysUM9kUjUYl5PRCE85Yi-qZB9FCflL7DNpTNhdZN_BgiEgmU/s400/oak+3.jpg" /></a><br />A quilt is the one way I know how to extend comfort to friends whose loss is beyond my imagination. Quilts are made to provide healing and happiness in my mind.<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKWHiDRg58aTZJ2L3wiDwuV4Lplp3jJiRiXNp0iHxXPvfOXq9v8-arGr1u3jgoi799VmeK9KlQbfvT24BFKe46sJra-9V1Lo8FzvSLNl3A_J-iKiadCyZwfafpdPrJDIlR4n4Ih70fQSA/s1600/oak+4.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586626418261071746" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKWHiDRg58aTZJ2L3wiDwuV4Lplp3jJiRiXNp0iHxXPvfOXq9v8-arGr1u3jgoi799VmeK9KlQbfvT24BFKe46sJra-9V1Lo8FzvSLNl3A_J-iKiadCyZwfafpdPrJDIlR4n4Ih70fQSA/s400/oak+4.jpg" /></a><br />I fell in love with the backing. Lonni Rossi. She is so talented. This print seemed to embrace the cycle of life. I used fabrics predominantly by her with the exception of a few batiks and Aboriginal prints.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>So, I've sewn the sleeve on the back for a wall hanging and the threads are snipped. Now, it's just ready to be delivered to it's new home. Have a great weekend, everyone! </div></div></div>brown robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00240110591473818986noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8180014130232534034.post-64300819148946805252011-03-21T16:11:00.006-04:002011-03-21T17:16:13.659-04:00Happy First Day of Spring!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnDPV9OLd8XK8VOkMKtsbMjvUPuhWCLLACbTpkzyWvRfQ_3TtkrPZYDo0olj0fok8JLmLRFaNoDd4JoVmIYpUysYayrIsNGna8lv67_q7JtdBUMgWYf3xQtxi4skMMK8gKpnSsS0enIzk/s1600/spring+2.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 317px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586628538620827490" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnDPV9OLd8XK8VOkMKtsbMjvUPuhWCLLACbTpkzyWvRfQ_3TtkrPZYDo0olj0fok8JLmLRFaNoDd4JoVmIYpUysYayrIsNGna8lv67_q7JtdBUMgWYf3xQtxi4skMMK8gKpnSsS0enIzk/s400/spring+2.jpg" /></a>My sister was here for a week. She was the laundry fairy that I have always dreamed of having. Well, actually, you will be incredibly jealous to hear that she also cooked, cleaned, and helped with kids. It was a dream come true, and really, words can not express the gratitude I feel.<br /><br />I greeted this day with a sense of excitement, hope in my heart, and laundry conquered. I love spring.<br /><br /><div></div>brown robinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00240110591473818986noreply@blogger.com1