Category Archives: memories

Doing hard things – a little easier

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I’m bringing sunglasses, readers and
swimming goggles to the pool and I don’t even care!

With at least a week-long swimming hiatus before me, I decided to take advantage of a beautiful day by heading to the pool. 

I wrote this on the sand in Mexico

A few months ago, I sat among the women in my writers’ group and we were given a writing exercise about the summer. Each of us went around the room and shared our stories, the vision we had for the upcoming season. When it was my turn, I pushed back the tears when I read my entry. For me, sharing it was raw and vulnerable as I had penned a summer that seemed impossible and unattainable.


But a few weeks later, with new found courage, I started to try (again) to swim. 

I feel like a kid!

The hallmark of today was that though the Hubs and the OS all had other things to do, I went to the pool. By myself. Without resentment or angry muttering, I walked there, set down my belongings and I strapped on my trusty swim goggles. With one step off the edge, I jumped into the deep end of the pool. WOW! By myself! And I swam to the other side with no incident. The lifeguard glanced my way but remained on her perch. I bet she thought I did this all the time. 😉

I also hopped off the diving board a few times. These activities are slowly becoming routine which is just remarkable to me. With each jump, plop or frolic into water, my confidence increases. 

It is wonderful to no longer be tethered
to the lounging chair.

When I see the little kids enjoying water, seemingly carefree, the pangs of regret and shame are not overtaking me. Bless their hearts, they have no idea that aquatically speaking, we are the same age! I am less of an outsider and don’t look like a fish out of water. (How could I resist?) I’m like a middle-age mama minnow now. 

A more muscular and manly
version of well, me 😉

This might explain why I then attempted another feat. After I jumped into the nine foot deep water, instead of my usual routine of clinging to the edge immediately following, somehow I turned my body and for about the same time that it is taking you to read this sentence, I, yes, Cindy, former land tortoise, embodied the Wikipedia definition of this commonly practiced aquatic activity. 


May I say that remaining afloat in the water without use of any buoyancy aid and using kicking motions and hand motions is HARD?! With more practice, I hope to master this skill.

Elegant dog paddling



I will be checking my blog, email and facebook as I heal from this out-patient surgery and love hearing from you. Aside from elbow surgery, the summer I longed for, is coming true. Keep doing your own version of Hard Things, friends.

Wednesday remix – no more land tortoises

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So sorry for the Wednesday remix delay. I knew what I wanted to post and it was a matter of scanning the pics, etc. which always takes longer than usual.

Can you say ouch? I can. 

On a side note, I’m having elbow surgery on Wednesday. It’s not major surgery but it might delay some posting since it’s my right arm, my “writing arm.” Time permitting, I might create some advance posts in the interim.


But back to the remix… Tonight I offer my post in honor of my oldest OS who spent two weeks in El Salvador with his bonita and two weeks with the fam this summer. With all that he has accomplished as a young man, Nate has embodied the Romans 8:37 spirit in being “more than a conqueror” in so many ways. By his example, Nathan has shown me how to Do Hard Things. In recognition of our collective swimming accomplishments both past and present, behold my toe-headed boy back in 1995. 

Nearly all known floatation devices were employed. 
The only kid on the swim team with the works. No shame. 
This is sweetest sugar boy I’ve ever seen in the pool!



There is nothing more precious or inspiring than seeing your child doing something you, yourself cannot do. Replete with floaties, nose plugs, swimming goggles and a noodle, that boy persevered. He didn’t worry about how he looked, my OS just wanted to stay alive during the swim meet! Cheering from the pool side, I was crazy proud of him!

As you can see, Nate didn’t inherit his daddy’s natural love of water. At least for a short while, my OS possessed his mama’s land tortoise qualities. 


Go Nate, go! You can doey it! He has come a long way as a cadet at West Point since completing survivor swimming his yuk year. 


Then in a strange twist of genetics, I believe that this summer, I came to inherit his determination. 


Oh and I can barely believe what I’m about to tell you! It’s no coincidence that AT THE SAME POOL, I jumped again into the deep end of the pool with even less forethought. And then although lacking any semblance of finesse, I stepped/jumped off the diving board 15 times yesterday. Here’s the amazing footage and it’s ok if you laugh, just keep it to yourself. Every time I see this video, I feel incredibly embarrassed and joyful. My youngest OS informed me that I “frolicked” off the diving board. Kids these days…

Years separated our victories but we have broken through barriers. Nate was one of my heroes when he was five and will always be as a man, son and Soldier. 

Thank you, dear readers for your messages both public and private. Keep doing your own hard things, if I can do it, so can you by the power of the Lord. 

Wednesday remix – bathing suits

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The Hubs back in the day doing the Baywatch thing
What family vacation wouldn’t be complete without a trip for some sort of medical issue? The tradition began on our honeymoon in Portugal almost 24 years ago when I sliced open my big toe. While walking upstairs to our condo, one misstep with a flipflop and the next thing I knew, the Hubs was carrying me piggyback style to the car. Soon we arrived at a medical center with questionable hygeine practice and I got several stitches! Oh the memories! 
Hence we have been to countless pharmacies, hospitals, urgent care centers and doctor visits. This trip to Mexico is no exception. This time it was not an especially life-threatening event but nonetheless embarrassing for a special member of our family.
The first day at Playa del Carmen was spent in the ocean. The Hubs is quite the fish, having spent two years in Guam as a young boy. But as good and strong of a man he is, (and ladies, he is strong like bull!) the delicate bathing suit area commonly covered with mesh and elastic is easily irritated.
The waves, although gentle to the rest of us, assaulted the Hubs. Grains of sand rubbed against him and by the end of the day, the Hubs was beyond miserable. How ironic to believe that if he didn’t get any relief, I might be the only parent in our family in the ocean! This would be a first.
“I will not be limited by mesh lining and elastic.”
Our Spanish vocabulary is quite limited despite the fact that our oldest OS has been to El Salvador four times in a year and is in love with a beautiful Salvadorena. Nate has learned many words but “chafing” isn’t one of them. We strolled into the hotel store but lacked the vocabulary to adaquately and appropriately explain the problem. I had no choice but to point to the affected area. I used myself as the model and she giggled as she tried to understand my question. 
“Hotelshops…your one stop spot
for all your ointment needs.”

The cashier, the Hubs and I debated whether the Hubs might need a diaper cream or something with retinol for wrinkles. This was no time for pride and soon we finally decided on the wrinkle ointment. No sooner was the purchase made then the Hubs scooted into the bathroom for prompt application.

I’m happy to tell you that he is now a happy camper/fish. To remove any chance of recurrence, the Hubs also went to the front desk and borrowed a pair of scissors. The mesh has since been removed and all is well in our little aqua world in Mexico.
This post has been approved, albeit begrudgingly, by the Hubs. He is my macho man with a sensitive side! And one more thing, should you ever need it, here’s a helpful phrase in Spanish…estoy rozando = I’m chafing! 
They were NOT all chafing simultaneously! They were acting like guys!







Doing hard things – part three, in Mexico

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(Connectivity is a struggle here so I apologize in advance for the visual quality of this post). 

We arrived in Mexico on Saturday. Comfortable fitting goggles, three different bathing suits and a new found sense of anticipation about water were securely stowed in my spirit and suitcase. 
 
And in a way, I have packed you too. Truly, your support has meant so much. I hesitated for a short while about even blogging about my fear of water but now I’m happy did. Though you, dear readers may be avid swimmers, I sense you understand because likewise you have a hard thing you have mastered or need to look beyond, so as we say in Mexico, muchos gracias, amigos. 🙂

This morning my orange hair, freckle face OS announced that he wanted to go snorkeling. We are staying in an all-inclusive resort so without the concern of money, it was an easy decision. Yes!

The Hubs and I strolled to the beach to meet the OS. As picturesque as the view is (and it’s magnificent), the loveliest sight for us as parents is seeing our three bairn together. At 21, 16 and 14 years old, their lives are busier and more diverse. We see our time with them like grains of sand flowing from our hands but I don’t want to cry so let’s not go there. The OS had ventured to an outlying reef and were bobbing their heads in and out of the water dazzled by the creatures.

Aaron met us back on the beach and urged us to join them. “Mama, you’re going to love this!” he exclaimed.

In a moment, I found myself in the water. This is a new Cindy. I’ve been to beaches in several countries throughout my lifetime and never has a body of water beckoned me as the Atlantic Ocean at the Playa del Carmen has done.

Instead of looking for excuses as to why I couldn’t snorkel or get into the ocean, I believed I actually could. My middle OS told me to look underwater and without hesitation, I did as instructed. The view did not disappoint. Schools of yellow and black striped fish glistened past us. Small black fish darted in the reefs. With another gulp of air, I witnessed a larger fish that truly was painted by the hands of God, this one aquamarine with other hues of blue in its body. I was not marooned by fear or shipwrecked by sadness any longer. I rode a wave of gratefulness the entire day. 

It no longer concerns me how many times I have put my head underwater. It’s not natural quite yet but I’m moving forward and not counting or dreading it. At one point during our snorkeling adventure, it was as if the fish were approaching me saying, “Hey girl, what-choo doing here? Looong time, no see! It’s great to see you!” The Mexican fish are friendly like that!

Yes, I tasted a fair amount of ocean water. I got a bit scared and hoped a shark wouldn’t come and ruin the whole thing. And I admit to being VERY clumsy on the reef and narrowly avoiding an ankle injury plus I appear to be melanin deprived. But…

I belong. With my family. In the water. Making memories. Splashing and beholding. Cherishing and treasuring.

Wednesday remix – with a pull and a prayer

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Your words of encouragement in regards to my swimming victories are spurring me on! Thank you, friends and family! In subsequent posts, I want to share what I’m learning, less about swimming techniques per se, but the greater aspects of my quest for aquatic magnificence.

They have nothing to do with today’s post
but seriously, aren’t they adorable?

Oh, and love, I want to share glimpses into love between a Soldier and his bonita. But more on that later…


Until then, I came upon something I wrote eight years ago about Aaron and a loose tooth. Still brings a grin to my heart…


Call me a wimp. Call me a baby. Call me the worst mother in the world. I don’t care, I just couldn’t do it. 


Aaron’s loose tooth would have to stay in his mouth until he could pull it. I’m not a good gore person and if you haven’t seen a tooth dangling from your kid’s mouth lately, one day you’ll understand. Strange as it may seem, the Lord used this experience to draw Aaron closer to him in a real and tangible way.


Losing a tooth isn’t an easy thing for the W-H’s. Some families’ teeth casually slip out one day with nary a wiggle. Our OS’s teeth are very stubborn. They like where they live and can be freeloading tenants. Aside from myself, I’ve only assisted one person in losing a tooth.


(Enter 70’s time machine…) One day accidentally on purpose I punched my sister Lorri in the mouth during a fight in the station wagon. While our parents were out of the vehicle, I gave her a knuckle sandwich which consequently sent her tooth flying. 

No knuckle sandwich necessary in this pic!

We searched and searched but never located the tooth and thanks to my natural charm and urgent begging, Mom and Dad never found out.


(Return from time machine…) Our middle OS lost his first two teeth at the dentist’s office. With a few good yanks, the dentist produced two adorable baby teeth which Aaron happily placed under his pillow for the Tooth Fairy.

I don’t recommend Aaron as a dentist
but oh the personality!

Now with budgetary concerns, Aaron’s loose tooth would have to leave the old-fashioned way. Each morning, Aaron showed me how loose his tooth was getting. For two days, my OS lingered in the bathroom, the only tools to expel the tooth being his boyishly dirty fingers and toilet paper which he used as a gripping device. Meanwhile I stood in the hallway clutching my stomach afraid I was going to pass out. He might as well have been giving himself an appendectomy, it grossed me out so much!


With utter determination, Aaron pulled and grabbed his central incisor. Possessing all the courage an eight year old can muster, he shut the bathroom door and with amazing bravery, mightily tore at the remaining root. Free at last, free at last, the battle was won, the tooth was out!


However, that wasn’t the only time Aaron lost that tooth.

I can’t believe we still have this in the house!

At bedtime, he prepared to put it under the pillow. It was the first tooth he had ever personally pulled and suddenly, he could no longer find it. He cried and searched. We combed the house looking for it. Maybe it’s in his pants in the washing machine, I wondered so we jetted downstairs only to find soggy jeans with empty pockets. This tooth was originally placed in a special Tooth Fairy container, where was it now?


That night as Aaron lay on his bed, dejected and forlorn, he asked me to join him in prayer. Aaron led the intercession and though I don’t remember what he said, Someone did. My OS drifted into sleep hoping that God, in His mercy, would locate the missing tooth in time for the Tooth Fairy to make her delivery.

I was even more surprised to find this assortment of 
dental treasures! Why are we saving these? 

In the wee hours of the night (pun intended), I awoke at 1 am and used the bathroom downstairs. Normally I frequent the potty in the master bedroom but for some reason I didn’t and…yep,  

“You found me!”


that’s when I spotted it. Aaron’s Tooth Fairy container and the pearly white  he had misplaced in the downstairs bathroom!

Aaron woke up in the early morning with a huge smile, astonished that the Tooth Fairy had actually arrived. A crisp one-dollar bill magically was found under his pillow. He was delighted but as for me, observing what was placed in Aaron’s heart was more valuable. As I shared in his excitement, my OS told me, “I’m glad I prayed. It actually works. God is real!”



Matthew 18:19 says, “Again I say to you, if two of you agree on earth about anything they ask, it will be done for them by my Father in heaven.” Aaron humbled himself before the Lord and received his heart’s desire. If I would have yanked that tooth on my own, perhaps he wouldn’t have seen in a very real way how the Lord values all of our supplications.


With a couple of tugs and a simple prayer, Aaron received a true wisdom tooth and a tiny, shiny bright testimony to God’s faithfulness. 


Gotta a tooth story? Ever entered a 70’s time machine? I’d love to hear!

Doing Hard Things – part one

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The Lord is prompting me to not only read this but have the courage to do this. 

It’s no accident that this summer I am co-leading a book study for teenage girls entitled Do Hard Things. With each progressive week, I find myself feeling the nudge to have victory over one of my Hard Things.

A teenager in Florida who was afraid of water = me



A fear that has gripped me for almost half a century that I am determined to overcome.


Fear of water – swimming
I was the teenage girl with bad body image sporting a white rubber bathing cap and cowering at the country club pool. Yeah, that was me. Too embarrassed and prideful to take swimming lessons. 

I hated spending days at the pool. 


I was the young collegiate at summer parties terrified someone would toss me in the water and see me flail about like a goof. Everyone was alerted to NOT throw Cindy in the water. 
You see a pool, I see an aquatic obstacle. 
And when the OS were little, I was the mama stuck on the beach chair. Longing to jump into the water, instead I watched the Hubs toss the boys in the air at the pool. Just a lonely mama who couldn’t venture to the deep end of the pool and stayed on the side. 😦

If I’ve got the guts to make raw multi-seed crackers, I should be able to swim, right?

A giant chasm separates fun and me. Summer is the season that covers its mouth, points at me and snickers, “You don’t belong here. Just go back inside and feel sorry for yourself.”

The Hubs and the OS in the water sans moi.

But there’s got to be an end to it. With great fear and trembling, I want victory over this phobia. Give me back May, June, July and August! Heck, let’s throw in September since I live in the south! Don’t you agree? 

I long for a picture of my OS and I in the pool.

I really hope and pray to report that I am conquering this fear…stay tuned, this is a very hard thing for me!


One more thing…here’s the link for the crackers! They are GOOD!

Wednesday remix – who you calling a diaper head?

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It’s been about ten years since anyone has called me a “diaper head.” In all my life, I think I’ve only been called a “diaper head” once! HA! I share this Wednesday re-mix in celebration of the growth our family has experienced since that fateful diaper-headed day. Read on to learn again that our family is very imperfect, often dysfunctional but God isn’t finished with any of us yet! 

I’m the shortest one in my family and the happiest
when I have a ginger with his arms around me. 

Sparks were flying and it was almost a week past the fourth of July. My precious Isaac, the red head, had turned into a human firecracker! I didn’t know that much dynamite could fit into a 30 pound “container.” All this fury over a simple command to pick up dinner napkins. Apparently I was the match that set his anger ablaze. I knew Ike had a temper but whoa, seriously? 

Don’t let that smile and cowboy hat fool you…
this guy can be a stinker!

He slammed doors, screamed and even charged at me with two tightly bound fits. His red eyebrows furled, his blue eyes enraged all because I told him he needed to do his regular family chore. Firm attempts to corral him weren’t working and things were going from bad to worse. Just that afternoon, his brother, Aaron, had been rather challenging so by this time, I was humbled and worn out.


Hoping Ike would soon tire because I knew I certainly was exhausted, I doggedly pursued justice to no avail. 

I prefer fireworks at a distance, thank you very much!

“Mommy is a diaper head! You’re a baby head!” flew from his ruddy lips. From the bathroom where he had been exiled, Isaac’s self-control had completely left and mine was hanging on by a thread.


The normal forms of correction we use weren’t working and the situation seemed desperate. What was I going to do? The Hubs wasn’t home, there was no back-up. I had to handle this one alone.


But in my second of need, I realized I was wrong. I was not alone. It’s then that I heard His voice. 


“Pray, Cindy. Pray.” I slowly walked up the stairs speaking to God with each step, asking for guidance, counsel and patience. His still, small voice beckoned me and told me to do something for Isaac that clearly wasn’t my choice. 


God told me to hold him. Simply take that furious fellow into my arms and rock him gently. Let him know I loved him.


This wasn’t exactly the form of discipline I had in mind (LOL) but I knew the Lord was guiding me to be “quick to listen and slow to anger.” James 1:19. Then He told me to show mercy and compassion. God told me to forget Isaac’s pre-school insults. So against all my human judgment, I cradled that angry guy in my arms and spoke softly to him. The firecracker and his mom were finally settling down.

A snapshot of life too many years ago…

It is a tradition each night before my sons go to sleep, to pray for them. I petition the Lord for and with them and always thank God for the blessings I find in being a mother. That night, I assumed it would be tricky to give great laud and praise for all the day’s adventures.


But again, the Lord supplied me with the humility and gratitude necessary. “…and thank you God for letting me be Isaac’s mommy today. Even though it wasn’t easy, thank you God.” 

I love seeing Aaron’s physical and
spiritual muscles growing!

A little later on, I tucked my middle OS in bed. Despite a rather action-packed afternoon with him as well, I said, “…and thank you God for letting me be Aaron’s mommy today.” I gazed into that handsome face and just smiled. We stared at each other for a moment and to my surprise, Aaron rang in after me…”and thank you for letting me be Mommy’s child today.” He’d never said anything like that before!


God had spoken and apparently I wasn’t the only one listening! Being a mother is an aerobic activity. Hard on the mind and body.


But to the soul, O Lord, to the soul, motherhood is infinitely more complex. In the course of a few hours I had a whirlwind of feelings. God’s soft and mighty hand soothed us all. We had gone from intense emotional explosions to quiet, gentle love. The Lord Jesus found us where we were in a crumpled mess. He gave us what we needed to heal. Praise Him!


Is there something in your own family that’s troubling you? Feeling bruised and beaten in this job of a lifetime? Have you ever had a few agonizing hours as a parent? My prayer for you my friends, and I mean this with sincerity, is that each of you reading my post will experience the kind of day I had. Grow and give great thanks to God from whom all blessings flow. Fireworks can be dangerous and are pretty to the eye but I discovered on a hot July night, they can be beautiful to the heart and soul.

My beloved firecracker

Defeat and victory in skirtland

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Unless you are my 22 month old niece, if I offer to make you a skirt, say no.


You don’t have to be polite about it either. Really, it’s for the best…

The skirt “prototype”
I’m not sure what compelled me to think that I could do it. It’s a mystery to me. All I know is that a week ago I, without presentiment, asked my friend Becki to help me replicate a favorite skirt and bless her heart, she said yes. Three DAYS of nearly non-stop effort on the part of both of us and if you determine fashion by the wearability and beauty of a garment, let’s just say it’s we’ve got ourselves an epic fail. 



So what do you do with that? Was it all in vain? 


Reasons it was a waste of time…

Approximately 4,000 pins on this dumb zipper

Zippers – correctly sewing a zipper is perhaps one of the most frustrating endeavors of my life. Just as I thought one side of the invisible zipper was good, the other side would be horrible. I contemplated chucking the whole thing, such a mess.


Man-hours – My skirt would cost over $300 if Becki and I were paid minimum wage. I’m not sure it would get fifty cents at a garage sale. :*

“Hi, I’m Nate and I’m
the cutest conehead you’ll ever see!”



I’ve given birth to ALL three of my OS in the time it took to make this simple A-line skirt. And at least during childbirth, I had a finished product. Yes, my OS were gooey and slippery. Nate even had a cone-head but overall I was pleased with the results…three lovely creations.  I’m not able to gloat about my skirt. I still haven’t hand-sewn the waistband. The skirt and I need some space…


BUT, I refuse to say that it was a waste of time and here’s why…

Becki and I on Day Two – optimistic 
and still speaking to each other!

Friendship – despite her own desire to sew, Becki pushed that aside and poured herself into my project. Who does that? She pinned and measured, explained and repeated countless times. She researched and investigated skirt making. She invited me into her home, she drove over to mine. She laughed and shared, commiserated and forged ahead. When I was literally flat on the ground from the emotional weight of the stupid invisible zipper not working again, Becki pressed on. 

A view from the carpet, that’s Becki slaving away



On the third day of our skirt journey, I began taking pictures of the ceiling. I lay on the carpet, far from the skirt because I couldn’t take it anymore. There Becki sat at the sewing machine. Gf faithfully yanked the stitches out of that blasted zipper again as I clicked away on my camera phone and went to my “happy place.” 

Amazing grilled veggies and goat cheese on a bed of greens

And check this out, Becki even made us a delicious lunch of grilled veggies, goat cheese and salad greens. She was the epitome of being a friend and a teacher.


Hope – If left to my own resources, surely I would have scrapped this project.  Many Bible verses traveled in my brain during our time together. This one, James 1:2-4, resonated the most within me.


Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters,whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. 

A little cherry skirt that will spend more
time in the closet than on my person!

Perseverance finished its work. I collaborated with a person who cared and not just about the skirt but about me.  I may only wear this garment while cleaning the house. Yeah, it’s janky, the waistband is awkward, the seams don’t match perfectly but WE did it. And as stupid as this may seem/seam (a pun for people who love to sew), guess what? I think I’m going to do it AGAIN!

Wednesday remix – lizard licking good

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In a box of old pictures, I found one that hearkened back to a sweet memory…


You can’t be in a bad mood when you eat ice cream. It’s impossible to stay grumpy with a mouthful of frozen deliciousness. Probably when people go to heaven, they are given a complimentary pint of their favorite kind as a welcome home present. Maybe God created ice cream to compensate for the ticks He made. Just another one of my deep thoughts, free of charge. 😉

One hot mess that I can’t live without

It was during a trip with my OS to Florida, however; I was given an ice cream memory for my heart.


My OS had accomplished the superhuman feat of peacefully sharing one fishing pole between the three of them. Out on Bradenton Beach Pier, Grandma and I watched the guys catch five fish and we left the pier salty, wind-blown and proud. 


Good thing Grandma was getting her hair set the next day. It had been partly cloudy and drizzle had sprinkled our heads and flattened our coifs. We were a frightful sight but the OS were thrilled. Each one had his own fish story to tell.


After lunch Grams recommended we go out for ice cream. We entered The Orange Dipper and glanced at the 50 flavors of gourmet ice cream pondering which one to choose. The answer was easy for Aaron and Ike. One flavor beckoned them. Every dimension of the ice cream screamed to be picked. The name of that ice cream…Lizard Lips. Perfect. Neon green ice cream was scooped into their waffle cones. 

Yep, that’s right, we’re eating Lizard Lips!

As we licked away at our individual ice cream selected, I observed that all of us ate with personality. Aaron and Ike grinned as bright green covered their mouths. Ike looked like a tiny salamander as his tongue slithered out to grab a bite. Aaron’s t-shirt bespoke volumes about his day. Smeared fish goo, ketchup and mustard from his burger heartily welcomed new plops of Lizard Lips.


Cerebral Nate, as my oldest OS, he chomped away at his Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough the same way he does books! He devours them! As we chatted about the day’s highlights, suddenly in the midst of all the confabulation a little dot of ice cream appeared directly on Nate’s nose. I grabbed the camera and clicked. (I wish I could find that picture now!)

Three generations scooped every last drop of flavor from that day. Lizard Lips and ice cream dips were the perfect topping to our time together…

Here’s Grandma back in the day
seriously working that one-piece. You go, girl!


It is a blessed thing to have a great-grandma

So, after reading this post, do you have an ice cream memory you’d care to share?

Dresses and skirts

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This post is pre-empting regularly scheduled Wednesday remix. I will post the remix later this evening… 


Sew far my summer has been sew busy. I’m having sew much fun. Fabric. Friends. Fellowship. Laughter. Learning. Love. Oh yeah, bring it on.

View from my sewing machine…it all matched
and I didn’t even plan it that way!



The hallmark of Monday was that I SMBO (sewed my butt off) with my friend Becki. She and I are on a journey to create a skirt. Not a terribly fancy garment but you’d think we were working on a wedding gown considering the amount of time it took for us to make a pattern from one of my favorite skirts. Her patience and instruction allowed me to think that eventually I’ll be able to do this myself. 


Then shortly after breakfast on Tuesday, I left my house and began my second day of SMBO. This time, I joined my friends, Jo and Mavis. Our intention was to make pillowcase dresses to be given to girls we will never meet this side of heaven. Jo’s sister-in-law has personally sewn 200 dresses, how hard could it be for the three of us to crank out a bunch for this worthy cause in a morning? 

Hopes were high as we all began the morning


Admittedly, we learned the answer to that question six hours later when Mavis was the only one who had successfully made a pillowcase dress.  It is more involved than we anticipated.

“It is hard not to be stuck up when you are the only one who has finished a pillowcase dress…”



Here is the video we used to create our dresses. It was quite helpful. 



I went home and by 9 pm, I had finally finished two dresses. I’ll never be a winner of Project Runway but that’s not my goal. I did it! I can do it!


When I am by myself, well that’s another story. A needle breaks or I sew something inside out and my spirit is mirthless, dinted with feelings of discouragement and futility. I can’t do it. I’m stupid. Probably should just give up, it’s never going to work.


This is Jo’s mother’s decoupaged sewing basket – it rocks!

The yards of fabric I have in my home will one day transform into pretty things, potentially even garments I can wear or create for loved ones. Sometimes to help myself fall asleep, I imagine all the possibilities…buttons, ribbons, zippers, trim and fabric perfectly matched together and I ascend to dreamland. 

Mavis, me and Jo ready to SOBO!
Amongst my talented friends, I feel sew hopeful, maybe even slightly invincible. Not because of my sewing acumen but because our abilities are shared and the things created become more beautiful.  For two glorious days, kind and generous women have pieced together memories and lovelies on a hot summer day. 

Taa daa! One of my finished pillowcase dresses!

What activity do you share with friends which brings out the best in you? What skills have you learned from your friends or taught them?