When In the Course of Human Events

Not tornadoes, hurricanes, brush fires, or floods
No acts of God or the natural world

But in the course of human events-
imposing taxes without our consent,
depriving us of the benefits of trial by jury,
constraining our fellow citizens,

quartering standing armies in times of peace,
cutting off our trade with all parts of the world,

establishing an arbitrary government,
taking away our charters,
abdicating governance by declaring us out of protection and waging war against us.

We, the People,
don't like that so much.

So the chips are going to fall...

The Things They Had to Do

Cotton Baggins- Wigs and Milliner

Becky Ross- Tailoring. Flags.

Methinks young Abigail enjoys her Peach Patriot Tea

Someday a Quilt

These fabrics are busily being cut and sewn to warm my sweet Bean.

Fabric Love

New fabrics in another favorite theme. The tropics.
If I can't afford to live there, at least I can sew it.
(I tell myself I would miss spring and autumn anyway.)

But if I happen to find a place as dreamy as this vanilla and coconut husk toile...

I'll be sure to send a postcard.

One of my creations is in the Etsy shop now.

What Begins With This Sound?

This is the first year I am requiring my 4 year old to stick to a schoolwork plan. It's typically 15 minutes of coloring, working a puzzle, counting and sorting, making a craft, or playing a game or reading with her sisters. Nothing major, but enough to get her into the habit of concertedly putting on her learning hat every day.

Today, we are working in a beginning sounds workbook. She's on the letter L.


Say the name of each picture. Color the things that begin with the same sound as "lamp."

Anna: (Drawing of a lamp) "Wamp. W-w-w-w. Wamp."
(Picture of leaves) "Yeaves. Y-y-y-y. Yeaves."
(A kite) "Kite. K-k-k-k. Kite."
(A line drawing of a ladder) "Yadd-uh. Y-y-y-y. Yadd-uh."
(Handsome, smiling lion) "Yion. Y-y-y-y. Yion."

"Mamma, NONE of dese wuhds sound yike "Wamp!"



There's no accounting for a cutie girl's lisp.

A Deal Breaker

This evening, my four year old lay on her back and ate Goldfish crackers while she watched me fix a salad in the kitchen. Our conversation went like this:


Anna: Mom, your kids are getting too old. You need to sell one.

Mom: Hmmm... which one would you suggest I sell?

A: Me! You can sell me!

M: Who should I sell you to? Do you know someone who will buy you? (Is she brokering deals on the side of preschool?)

A: You can sell me to Aunt Sarah.

M: Do you really think she would buy you?

A: Yes, she loves me.

M: What would you do at Aunt Sarah's house if she bought you?

A: Sleep, watch TV, play, eat breakfast, play computer games...

M: What would you call Aunt Sarah if she was going to be your new mom?

A: I would call her "Aunt Mommy."

M: "Aunt Mommy"? Then what would you call Uncle Brian?

A: (Deliberating briefly.) I would call him "Aunt Daddy."

M: Then what would you call me, since I used to be your mommy?

A: "Grandma."

M: "Grandma?!" (Hey now. Watch it there, kid.)
What will you call The Man Formerly Known As Daddy, then?

A: "Grandpa." (Oh, of course.)

M: Well, if I sell you to them, you need to leave something behind for me to remember you by because I'm going to miss you a lot. I want you to leave your Cow Softie here.

A: Uh... no. You can't take my Cow Softie. It's mine.

M: Nope, if I'm going to sell my darling little daughter I ought to be able to chose one of her belongings as a momento, and I choose Cow Softie.

A: No, Mommy. You can't have Cow Softie. I need to take him with me, he's my favorite!

M: No Cow Softie, no deal. You'll have to stay here with me, I guess.

A: What are we going to have for dinner?


Aunt Sarah and Uncle Brian, looks like this is the one that got away.

I Dream of Men in Powdered Wigs

Congress Voting Independence
Edward Savage and Robert Edge Pine, 1776

Last night I went to sleep thinking about The French and Indian War. I woke up this morning contemplating The Quartering Act, The Stamp Act and the Intolerable Acts. The battles of Lexington and Concord. Cannon fire, musket rounds, passionate speeches, eloquently written pamphlets, head cheese, frozen feet, stone garden walls, muslin and buckskin. And wigs, wigs, everywhere.

The events leading up to the War for Independence are the topic of conversation around our house these days and I can't help but wonder at my dullness for the last 20 years, because it's finally all coming together and making sense to me. And spilling over into my dreams.
Every man in my dream last night wore a powdered white wig.

No recollection of what they were doing or saying, just white cottony hairpieces strutting around the stages of my subconscious and gesturing emphatically.

Snow Dance of Joy

I read this news article today about a happening in Kenya.

It is not politics, war, famine, uprisings, economics, poaching, environmental awareness, or anything vastly important in a global sense. But, oh my, it has certainly brought joy to my heart today. The unexpected pleasures and fun little things God rains down in His common grace to our world. Things like this just make me smile.

Be sure to click on the slide show and enjoy this fleeting moment with the Kenyans.

Those Will Be Very Clean Clothes

My daughter started a load of laundry today. The spin cycle was set on extra high. We went to the library. The liquid laundry detergent was sitting on top of the washer. It was brand new. 96 loads worth. The spin cycle engaged. The detergent skittered across the top of the washer. And dove off. Snapped the plastic lid into pieces.
We found the evidence on our slimy blue laundry room floor.

96 loads worth.

We used the waiting dirty clothes pile to mop up the detergent sludge.

Those will be very clean clothes.

96 loads worth.

In other news, I'm hosting a giveaway over on SoulPerBlog. Where I tell a few more stories about my life. Not that they are interesting as 96 loads worth or anything.