Time Spent in the Kitchen

I have spent most of the day cooking.  Ten ladies and a guy . . . stitching at a quilt retreat all day need some good supper.  Last year I sewed along with them.  This year, I felt needed at home too greatly – though that was partly due to not really feeling like being among them this year like that.  I have my baby to tend to and I’d rather sew on my sewing projects here at home.  I can supervise the children, cook and visit the retreat in the evenings. 
Poor man’s steak, scalloped potatoes, spring greens salad with a multitude of toppings, Jaden made finger jello flowers with a mold, mixed veggies that include soybeans and sweet red peppers (actually very yummy), Lynne mixed up dinner rolls and Loraine and Jeremiah made angel food cakes to serve with a strawberry pie like filling and real whipped cream.  Just takes time to make most of this stuff by scratch and then double that to feed our family at home as well.  The electric roaster is in use, my instapot will be in use, a huge bar pan, and I had to borrow a crockpot to keep the veggies warm for the trip over to the event.  Our two stoves\ovens have been put to good use today.
I am thankful for Joan making the carmel rolls\breakfast stuff and taking care of the lunches!  Last evening we served boughten pizzas andI had offered to make a nice big salad.   Which to my humilitation, when it came time to set the salad out with the pizza and pop, I realized I had completely forgotten all about!
Food is necessary.   And a lovely, delicious spread is a joy.  Not sure why, I don’t particularly care for cooking all the much . . . maybe it is partly due to the stress of wanting it to be good . . . and knowing I am not the best cook in the kitchen!
But today, I tried . . . And I amazed myself and didn’t even cry a tear over my utter failure last evening.

Sewing Messes

I am learning . . . I THINK I am learning to be content in whatever state I'm in . . . Ina big mess happily sewing away, an "interrupted" state with caring for my babies and family in between my seams . . . or not being able to sew for days or weeks . . . or to sew organized without mess.

No, on second thought, I'm don't pass these tests very well.

. . . But I am trying.

As you can see from the picture, I can sew happily in a mess . . . In fact, this is what I how I often find myself doing it.

I can spread out . . . And sort as I sew . . . One pile, all the way to the left, beside the left grey tote are the larger pieces of fabric that need cutting into useable strips.  I can pull fabric out either side of me . . . As I chose what colors to use and what size would be good to use where.  Does this sound confusing? . . . I have spent several years perfecting this technique.  This is fun.  Though it is more fun sewing pieces together, when I take the time to sort by size and cut into strips before I sit down and "go to town".

Right now, I am trying to use up fabric that I have accumulated the past couple years . . .

I am so get the greatest sense of satisfaction, making choices of color and textures . . . I feel like I have been created to do this . . .

And without further editing . . . Here ya go . . . Part of me . . . Oh, and Jeremiah isn't sewing, he is fixing my serger . .
And I don't always sew in such chaotic drama . . . But probably more often than not 😉.

A Reminder

A favorite poem of mine over the years . . .

The Rose Bud

It is only a tiny rosebud; 
A flower of God's design. 
But I cannot unfold the petals; 
With these clumsy hands of mine. 

The secret of unfolding flowers; 
Is not known to such as I. 
GOD opens this flower so easily; 
But in my hands they die. 

If I cannot unfold a rosebud; 
This flower of God's design, 
Then how can I have the wisdom; 
To unfold this life of mine? 

So I'll trust in God for leading; 
Each moment of my day. 
I will look to God for guidance; 
In each step along the way. 

The path that lies before me; 
Only my Lord knows. 
I'll trust God to unfold the moments; 
Just as He unfolds the rose.

—Author Unknown

              

Desire Deferred

I thought . . .  I thought that I could sew . . . I mean, I have a designated sewing “room” on the third floor at the top of the stairs.  And I was so excited today, with the purchases I made at SRHarris’ – dark brown wool fabric for the backing of comforts.  But, not so.  Veronica, who is nine months old and missed me the last twenty-four hours didn’t want to let me out of her sight.  I know, it was sweet.  And I snuggled and hugged and kisses and held her lots since I arrived home, but yeah this will last a a couple days. 

I thought . . . I thought that since we moved and I have space for sewing, I might be found up there sewing happily away during the night for an hour when I can’t sleep.  Not so.  The girls need their sleep and I might make too much noise and wake them up.  Reality is more like, that I still am not organized with my gigantuous operation of comfort top making supplies, complete with fuzzy blankets\batting and sheets and other fabrics for the backs.  I have quite a collection.  Even fabric scraps for the tops . . .  somehow I don’t run out any more.  Till I use some, more appears and this not from my own soliciting.

I thought . . . I thought I somehow by actively sewing my supplies would dwindle and not have so much to “dig” through or store.  But not so.  It keeps coming.  And now by this time, I am buying nice wool fabric . . . because I want people to be warm.

I thought . . . that my daughter would have the same love and passion that I do in this . . .  That the thrill would keep her fitting it in, all hours and days and weeks of the year.  Not so.  She likes to sew dresses.  And this is good!!! I am really glad she is different than me in this after all I decided.  This is good . .  but different than I had thought it might be.

I thought . . . that I could sew  sometime soon . . . but there are a jillion other things to attend to.  So, I do that instead . . .

I thought . . . that I could sew today . . .  but decided that relationships were more important . . . and a walk . . .  on top of being wife and mother . . .

Do you think, perchance, sewing is a passion of mine?

A Year Closer

December 31 . . . This thought brings me sweet joy . . . I am a year closer to meeting God face to face . . .

Aimee's Alphabet Thanksgiving List 2018

A
Ample soul food
Avid readers
Anchored men

B
Bountiful encouragement
Beaming faces
Bonny lads and lasses

C
Caring family and friends
Cautious teens
Capering youngen’s

D
Darkness of night for rest
Diligent students
Dazzling sunshine

E
Endearing baby
Excellent greatness of God
Effortless breath

F
Fair moonlight
Fine print of God’s Word
Familiar faces

G
Gushing joy
Gorgeous sunrises
Glory awaiting

H
Happy hearts that overflow
Honorable parents
Harmonious brotherhood

I
Industrious husband
Ivory hues
Inner cleansing

J
Jolly times
Joyous Sunday mornings
Jingles of bells

K
Kind neighbors
Kitchen space
Keen insights

L
Lively singers
Little singers
Lilting birdsong

M
Maturing teens
Male strength
Meekness exemplified

N
Neat rooms
Nutritious food
Noble leaders

O
Onsite Friend
Overall God
Older (than myself 😉) ladies

P
Purifying process
Peaceful hearts
Pure, honest eyes

Q
Quiet moments
Quick pricks
Quaint flowers

R
Romantic husband
Reflective times
Rafters strong

S
Stedfast love
Sensitive friends
Simple savors

T
Tiny Toes
Tears
Thankful hearts

U
Upward climbers
Underneath Arms
Upbeat attitudes

V
Vigorous work to do
Vivacious daughters
Victorious living

W
Warm hearts and hearths
Willing workers
Washed souls

X
Someone who sees inside better than an X-ray
People who say I’m sorry and do not give eXcuses
Exuberance in living for Christ all around me

Y
Yielded lives
Youthful canter
Yonder enrollments

Z
Zealous youth
Zingy friends
Zappy children

True Light

The light of the city cast a warm glow on the horizon . . . It was cold and dark right before dawn as I sat on a lawn chair in the woods. Yes, I was along for the parental supervision of a minor, hunting.

Yesterday, I sat on a crooked wet, stump. The time before that, just a camp stool . . . and the sky was dripping :) so I couldn't read my book or write or text . . . I just had to sit still . . . and I am not used to much silence or solitude though I dream of such.

It wasn't light enough yet to read the little Bible that I had brought along, so I sipped on the hot coffee and delighted in the fresh, crisp winter air. My mind pondered around the thought of the light . . . and how that the light from the city in the dark of the night could seem like the light to "follow after" . . . Because that was the light that was there . . . But in reality it was fake light, man-made . . .

Now the Eastern sky was beginning to show light . . . Slowly every so slowly, yet steadily the light crept in . . . Brighter and brighter . . . It had given off the same light as the city for a bit, but soon outshone the man-made lights. The real sunrise, the true light was dawning and there was no stopping it.

And then, day was upon us . . . The sun, that burning ball of fire, that ever intense brightness ruled supreme. Night is coming again, we all know that. Dark times, cold times, long and lonely times . . . Will I hold out and wait for the real true light or will I let the cheap, counterfeit "light" fill my heart and take God's place . . .

This world's light does not hold a candle to the light and Light God created.