Just call me Susie-Homemaker...

Saturday we'll be showering a baby and celebrating the soon-to-be arrival of my niece, Brooklynn.  I wanted to make something special.  My grandmother made all my dresses when I was a little girl and I l-o-v-e-d it!  So, of course, I decided to sew...something.  Um, remember I just started sewing last year (as in December) so I'm not all that talented.  I found a simple enough looking pattern.  And I was maybe a little too excited that it was made for French seams!

The first is an ever so slightly modified pillowcase dress.  It was actually really easy.

Not bad.  Then, I decided to challenge myself.  I found a really cute tutorial for Ruffle-butt Onesies.  So yeah, ruffles and I have not yet made friends.  Making the ruffles, no problem.  Sewing the ruffles to a onesie, serious PROBLEM!  I just could not get the ruffles to stay in place while sewing (not even pinning helped) and a crooked ruffled-butt is not okay.

So back to the pillowcase dress I went.  And challenged myself by modifying the patter even MORE.

And I added a bow on the back to help give the dress a little more form.

Okay {self-promotion} I'm really proud of the peak-a-boo front.  And and little {self-depreciation} if you really look at the final products, the seams are messy and don't aline perfectly but these dresses are sized 6mo & 9mo...Brooklynn will never know the difference!

Dear Brooklynn - 

I will continue the quest and conquer the ruffle-butted onesie.  

...I just hope it's before you outgrow onsie wear!

Love, Auntie Heather

Patty cake, patty cake...

I am not a baker, but I have conquered the muffin.

That's right these Orange-Cranberry mini-Muffins are homemade!

If you look close, you can see little bits of orange zest that look like little sprinkles...

because that's is as close as I'll ever get to actual sprinkles.

And because this weeks produce pack included free blueberries, 

I'll soon be conquering the blueberry beast! 

And...because I was thinking of this the entire time I was baking my muffin{s}, the lovely Betty White:

Dreaming of my favorite highway...

Today, more than ever, I find myself craving the west coast.

Maybe it's the weather...hot, humid, miserable.

But I want nothing more than to go back and see the sites.

To walk among giants.

To seemingly drive off the edge of the earth.

To be left breathless.

To sit here...forever.

And thank the artist who created it all.

What happens when you listen...

This afternoon I took a leisurely lunch with my dear friend, Cheryl. We were celebrating her birthday mother’s day. Chatting and enjoying each other’s company as always. While exiting the restaurant Cheryl noticed a large SUV backing up dangerously close to another car, so she waved the driver down to warn him. A moment not-so different from those Liberty Mutual commercials.
At some point the SUV actually hits the car causing it to move. And like anyone would do, we’re left dumbfounded thinking is the dude going to leave a note. What if that was my car. But we continue on through the parking lot wrapping up our conversation and saying our goodbyes Occasionally looking back as a young man exits the vehicle and his father attempts to back out, but because there is a large moving truck parked behind them they cannot get out of the space.
As the older gentleman exits, he yells at us frustrated “is this your car – this is not your car, move on you (#!?%#) nosey white people - mind your own (#!?%#) business.” And Cheryl and I looked at each other shocked. Flabbergasted. We were just talking to each other not too concerned with what was happening. Cheryl actually stopped the young man from causing serious damage to the other car. We were being. Nice.
And I of course do what I always do. Cry. Because in spite of my tough faux brick exterior, I am incredibly tenderhearted. For real...I'd make a great filet mignon! All I could think is {this} is exactly what is wrong with the world today. I looked at Cheryl and just said at some point that man must have been really hurt by a white person...he just needs a hug. Just like when a “Christian” does something terrible to another person and that person’s opinion towards the church is forever changed.
And you know what happened...eventually, the guy walked up to us and thanked us. And I told him his white people comment upset me. I told him what I told Cheryl (minus the Christian comment). And he looked at me and said, “you know I do need a hug.” So I gave him a hug. A real hug. And we had a conversation. And we listened.
Now, what I didn’t say is that this was a black man. And we are the two whitest women you have ever seen. Probably pushing towards neon white. (And the color of our shell is only a big deal because this is the south.) What I didn’t way is that this was a thugged out, pants-on-the-ground black man. What I didn’t say is after the hug, he looked as us and said, “ya’ll must be church people.” And what I didn’t say is that Cheryl and I just smiled at one another and shook our heads no.
What I didn’t say is that I have had several “Christians” tell am not one.
We may not go to church, but church certainly finds us. Every day. In the way we treat one another. In the way we love. In the way we pray. God is not found in a brick & mortar building. He is found after an earthquake or a hurricane. He is found in the way we love. In the way we give. And the way we listen.
I wonder what would happen if we all stopped talking so much and just listened. Because the thing is those words he yelled were not about us, but his own pain surfacing. And today I just so happened to be the one listening vs. the one yelling. And maybe...just maybe the next time he sees a couple of white women he'll remember that we don't all clutch onto our purses for dear life when we share an elevator with a black man.

The legacy of Eva Dien.

I had a moment last night.

I wrote this regarding love.

And then today I read an article on CNN

about the vibrant red-headed

{Eva Dien Brine Markvoort}

and 65 (red) roses...or cystic fibrosis.

As I read through her blog

I came upon

her farewell video...

Eva passed away the morning of March 27th.

"The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return."

-Christian, from the movie Moulin Rouge

To never waste time...

I read this article last week.  It made me think.  Don’t we all have moments where we forget about the mirror?  We point at another religion…or person…and call them wicked and evil.  But we forget that whatever it is we are pointing at is our very own reflection.  Because the truth is if Franklin Graham actually sat down with a true leader of Islam, more similarities would be found than differences.

Isn’t that true of all of us.  We all have been hurt.  We all have been tested.  And we all overcome.  And at some point, we all have failed.  But the point is we all keep moving forward.  We all work toward an improved sense of self.  The circumstances may be slightly different…we may name call our higher being by a different name, but our similarities lie within our souls and that soul’s ability to love.

I realize that what is right in my life may not be for another, so pointing out something as wrong or wicked or evil is a waste of time.  But to love.  Show love.  Be loved.  That is time never wasted.

Bringing home baby...

{this} bundle of little boy kitten cuteness arrived Saturday...

Seven has been adjusting very well.

No puffy-tailed growling hissing fits.

Okay, a little hissing may have been involved...

but it's more of a 'know your place little-bit' kind of hiss.

She just sits back and surveys.

And he just plays...

And gets into precarious situations...

His name is {Dexter}, we think.

I have a little hesitation because I do enjoy the show Dexter,

but a serial killer with a "moral code" he is not.

And considering his litter box routine...

Bulldozer may be more fitting!

Only time will tell.

I still shed tears for my Snuggles.

It's been hard.

There are moments where he will make a face

or flip his tail

or make a noise

and remind me completely of her.

Ragdoll personalities are so similar to Himalayans.

That is what we wanted.

My Snuggles could never be replaced,

but I feel my heart opening and making room for this little boy.

A break away...

It's not a very pretty city from a distance,

but when you look at the details

New Orleans

is lovely...

the Garden District was a favorite

the French Quarter street players were full of spirit

and sometime the French Quarter exteriors were like butter

and thankfully we were able to experience a parade

New Orleans

style

and walk away with some beads

(that we didn't pay for with money or wobbly bits)

Truly an amazing city.

And another one that I'm glad we experienced before kids.

Overindulgence...

This past weekend I attended a work-related networking event for meeting planners.

Lots of talking.

Lots of eating.

And drinking.

And talking.

And eating.

This was the amenity that awaited when I returned to my hotel room the final night.

Did I happen to mention eating?

I was so full of food and drinks that I didn't even manage a bite.

Not even a sip of the Disoronno or Bailey's...

it sure looked good though!

Finding reasons to laugh...

I need to write something happy.  Silly.  Something to get over the hump of sadness I have been feeling this last month.  A couple snippets from today…

I dropped off my car for repairs this morning and was given a rental car.  Went to work and my brain turned into mush.  Left work…er, tried to leave work.  I could not remember what kind of car they gave me.  And worse…no clue where I parked.  Finally, I realized I had kept the paperwork in my bag and learned it was a Silver-Honda- Accord.  Do you know how many silver cars there are!?  Do you know how many Silver-Accords there are!?  Not fun.

~~~~~~

On the way home, I came across a wreck.  Actually it was just a broken down car, one nice dude helping broken-down dude push his car to the side of the road.  But nice dude forgot a belt.  As he was pushing, imagine it, pants meet knees.  {hello whitey-tighties}  I swear I have never laughed so hard while stopped at an intersection!

But the thing is, the tighties were not very whitey.  So I get home and ask Fred, do whitey-tighties come in nude…he doesn’t wear them – but being male I assume he knows these things.  I learn they come in black, white and colors like the Michael Jordan commercials.  And well, I have concluded that nice dude’s undies were well worn in…especially given I could see butt crack through the near mesh fabric.  Hey, maybe nice dude is just taking going green to the extreme.  But I can pretty much guarantee two things: 1. he’s not gay, and 2. he’s not married!