chairs 2

along with all the reading, television watching, and relaxing i throw myself at in the summer, here are a few other things i'm working on:

this is a chair i purchased at goodwill for $10.96 that was a horrible shade of antiqued green and brown. it was screaming for this shade of blue. my sister saw it and asked if she could taste it. the color is positively drinkable.







this looks like a chair with a story doesn't it? yes, the pattern is quite outdated, but it's the one i chose almost 25 years ago. (i couldn't resist the little farming people--i remember that vividly!) the chair belonged to my grandmother, and it originally sat in her little consignment shop in the sticks, oklahoma. i don't remember the previous pattern, but one summer when i, my brother and my cousins were there for our annual 2 week visit, mammaw took me to the fabric store to pick out the pattern (maybe she had a vision of my future-she also bought me minature baking pans one Christmas). she told me then that someday i could have the chair. so, 25 years later the chair is in serious want of an update. the new fabric is purchased (although i'm not as committed to it as i was a year ago) and now i'm waiting for the nerve to strike.

foodies

for those that are dairy free (or are thinking of going dairy free--it will change your life--you know who you are) try this site. there are some great substitutions for things like heavy cream and buttermilk (although nothing can ever replicate smoked brie or denny's moons over my hammy or a pumpkin vanilla shake or....ahh!).

also, i've come across this blog as well. although i don't participate in the gluten free lifestyle, this woman is terribly entertaining. she photographs her food and weaves the recipie into her recent excusions. very entertaining.

who's afraid of the big bad wolf?

my greatest fear:
forgetting and not forgetting.

"you're going to think to yourselves, 'oh! we're outnumbered ten to one by these nations! we'll never even make a dent in them!' but I'm telling you, don't be afraid. remember, yes, remember in detail what God, your God, did to pharaoh and all egypt. remember the great contests to which you were eyewitnesses: the miracle-signs, the wonders, God's mighty hand as he stretched out his arm and took you out of there. God, your God, is going to do the same thing to these people you're now so afraid of."
deuteronomy 7:17

"forget about what's happened; don't keep going over old history. be alert, be present. i'm about to do something brand-new. it's bursting out! don't you see it? there it is! i'm making a road through the desert, rivers in the badlands."
isaiah 43

(while visions of habakkuk danced in her head)

so, what are you afraid of?

confession is not (always) good for the soul

as you know i’ve been sleuthing about with the spirited mme ramotswe of the no. 1 ladies’ detective agency on zebra drive in the hauntingly beautiful country of botswana. i didn’t expect the LORD to reveal Himself so clearly in my fiction reading, but i must admit when He does (as He is wont to do--no surprise) i become nearly giddy. i love the idea of the unregenerate writer unwittingly exposing miraculous truth. madame detective relates a story of when she was in primary school and the head teacher was trying to catch a young thief. he makes everyone come to his office and swear on a Bible: “i am not a thief.” everyone comes in. everyone swears. the culprit is not discovered. precious ramotswe was not guilty of the theft, and so swears. but when she arrives home to tell “the daddy” and aunt of the events, she realizes that a week prior, she had eaten a doughnut that was sitting on the kitchen counter. she fears the head teacher’s promised lightening strike, and after a sleepless night, confesses the thievery. her aunt smiles and says: “but that was meant for you, that doughnut. you did not steal it.”

so maybe it’s just me, but sometimes when things go well, and the LORD gives me something (like a doughnut for example), i feel the piper paying is piping its way around the corner. that i didn’t deserve it, or maybe that i even stole it, and eventually i'll have to cough up a good deed or a confession. that maybe all this stuff about “unconditional” is just a well planned ruse to get me to steal the doughnut and then confess. but the doughnut is meant for me, and so i can’t pinch it. no confession or deed will make me any less or more worthy of the cream filled delight. my mantra today: i am not a thief--that doughnut was meant for me.