Wordles

That’s “WIRD-ull” not “wordless” misspelled.

Here’s mine. It’s brighter on the link, but here’s a copy.

Wordle jpg

Make your own. To get custom colors, click on “Color” then “Custom Palette” then “Edit Custom Palette” then double click on the gray boxes to get a menu of colors.

WAY FUN. . .wish I had a color printer available.

I also made something very much like this, and it is now sitting atop our mantle. We don’t have a digital camera at this moment, so I had to resort to some sketchy paint skills to bring you this masterpiece.

Fireplace

In real life the variety fonts are in several in several different sized black frames ranging from 8×10 to 3 1/2×5 and one really tall skinny one. I got them at the dollar store, and the ones that weren’t black, I painted black–Rustoleum laquer. I’m glad it’s on top of the mantle, cause the mantel is TALL and no one can see my mess ups. I will be glad when I can take a REAL photo to show you. It’s nice.

Langley

Cute Stuff

I didn’t make this, but I TOTALLY plan on making one like it very soon. While looking around tonight I found THIS blog. Go. There. Very. Cute.

pink frame fabric

I’m back in the craft room pulling everything out of the closet (and that’s A LOT) so I can actually get things where they belong so I can actually use the place. . .anyway. . .in honor of craftiness (the good kind), take a look at these precious ideas (seen above) from a crafty, crafty gal.

Cute, easy frame (scroll down towards the bottom of the post to see the frame and technique, although all her little fabricy things are precious too)

And another. . .

Easy applique. . .and if you frame it, there’s no sewing needed

To see more of her adorable designs, go to her Flickr account. She has got some seriously cute things.

And she uses fabric designed by this gal in this studio. . .
Isn’t this GORGEOUS????

Here is a great, little page that has a ton of free templates. You can make matchboxes or playing card sized boxes, or cake piece boxes in whatever paper or card stock you like. Cool.

Camp

From the summer of ’78 through the summer lof ’87 I could be found at camp. I lived ALL. YEAR. LONG. to get there. It was my entire summer all rolled into a few days.

Camp was:
hot as blue blazes
walking around with bandaids on your knuckles from playing box hockey
trying to get a table by a fan in the mess hall (no a/c)
avoiding “killerpillars” that infested the place and STUNG mercilessly
Yelly Screamy
skit night
water fun
the moonlight hike
Bible class
swings
The Box
KP
ringing the bell
Camper/Staff softball game
the day your cabin FINALLY got to go canoeing
Cabin check
all night prayer sessions
a bunch of incredibly silly songs
Elbow day
the Country Store
singing, and singing, and more singing
Campfire
pranks
Holy Ground in the staff room
and a list a mile long of people who watched me grow up

I recently caved and gave into the siren’s song of Facebook. I had resisted it knowing that I would get sucked in to all of my old friendships–which is not a bad thing mind you. These people–school people and camp people–they are the people who helped me along my way. I’m just sort of a talker (go ahead–spew your beverage on your computer monitor–I know that’s an understatement), and this world wide web makes talking even faster for me. Seeing as how I have three people in my house and about 200 students and peer faculty at school, I didn’t really need to go out and find 650 of my closest friends from 20 years ago during this past school year. Little busy.

But now it’s summer. . .and so I’ve succumbed. One of the most fun things has been finding people from camp. I keep trying to figure out how to explain it, and I can’t. If you’ve been to camp, you know.
Anyway here is me 20+ year ago at camp. Please pardon the frosted makeup and big hair.

The Man of My Dreams

Tony Lumberjack

Three years ago I wrote the following:

“We have a Daddy at our house. He has been a Daddy now for 8 years. My running joke is that he is a terrible Mommy, but a wonderful Daddy. And he is.

He wrestles in the floor with the children. He is the Tickle Monster. He lifts heavy things. He is an Eagle Scout, so camping with him (in a tent, on the ground) is actually pleasant. He knows how to use power tools. He builds things, and they do not fall down. He has brought cool/icky (depends on your point of view) pets into our home like snakes, chickens, turtles, frogs, a rabbit, and a tarantula. He does not mind getting wet or muddy or sweaty. He asks the children logic based questions to stretch their brains. . .he also makes silly noises and teases them to stretch their senses of humor. He does all of this, and he loves me. The children know that he loves me. The children know that he loves them.

I married the man I fell in love with. He was not a Daddy. He was a 20-something blond haired, thin, fraternity guy from a huge town I had never been to. He has become many things over the past 15 years I have known him. . .today we celebrated the fact that he is a Daddy. And we love him right back.”

The only thing that has changed in the ensuing three years is that he’s now been a Daddy for 11 years, and I’ve known him for 18. Over the past 18 months alone, he has shown again and again and again what a wonderful, Godly, husband and father my own Heavenly Father picked out for the kids and me.

Honey, you’ve only become better at this Daddy gig. You’ve got it nailed. We all adore you. You know.

House Foundation Daddy