The One Everyone Needs in Her Posse

When you look around at your posse, the ones who are closest to you, the ones whom you call to celebrate with or to share the hard times, the painful stories–look around closely.  In addition to the ones who will call you out and keep you straight and the ones who will come out with a bat swinging when you are hurting, make sure you also have the ones who will tell you, in the words of Mr. John Paul Schulz, “Everything is going to be all right.”

Because when everything in your life seems to be falling apart and you are beyond overwhelmed to the point where you CANNOT EVEN, you will need those compassionate souls.  You will need to be reminded that, while it seems bad right now, it will get better.  It will.

These can be anyone from your sister to your neighbor to your Aunt to your daughter to your best friend to your cousin to your vet to the person at the drive thru. (You know, if you were the kind who told the cashier about your hard stuff.  Ahem.)  Find these people.  And when you have them, give thanks for them.  And love them back.

Tonight I’m thankful for all of those in my posse–those who know me and love me anyway–but tonight I’m especially thankful for these encouragers, who seem to never tire of listening (though, you know, I’m sure they must), and they are always able to come up with just the right words.  Mostly telling me it will be okay.  Just like my Mama used to do.

Love to all.

The One About My Dog’s Business and An Email from Pinterest

A couple of things that happened today–

Miss Sophie is a picky pooper.  I don’t mean to offend, but there’s just no other way to put it.  She will not go in our yard.  And she is very sensitive about where she will go.  It takes quite a bit of sniffing and turning around and sniffing some more and sometimes, even when you think “YES! Finally!” she turns around and walks away from that very spot that once seemed so perfect.

Some days it takes a really long time.

(Yeah, she’s quirky like the rest of the folks around here.  We’ve decided to find it endearing.)

Some time around the middle of the day, I got an email from Pinterest.  From PINTEREST.  Writing to me.  I just knew it was to congratulate me for pinning all the things, and that although my pins were the most fabulous, I had exceeded the limit of pinning without actually attempting to do/make/create one of them.

Thankfully, no.

It was to let me know that they’d had to delete one of my pins.  It had to do with the creator of the picture not wanting it pinned again and again and again.  It was a recipe for a special blend of essential oils to help with injuries.

Eh. *shrugs* Okay.

I was afraid it was one of the one of a kind crochet patterns I pinned that I am sure I will BEGIN WORKING ON TOMORROW forthwith.

The nice thing was how kind the email was.  Pinterest kept assuring me that it had nothing to do with me or anything I’d done.  It was all about the originator deciding they didn’t want their information out there.  But they wanted me to know in no uncertain terms that I had done NOTHING wrong.

Well, that’s a huge relief.

And it really was.  It was so nice to be assured that while something I did had to be affected, it wasn’t my fault.  And they went to such trouble and used such nice words to make sure I knew that.

These two totally unrelated stories have come together for me tonight to remind me of this–

We all have things–anger, impatience, frustration, sadness, pain, anxiety, fear among others–that needs to come out or we will go mad and become ill.  It just has to.  But instead of letting it fall wherever, we need to be deliberate about who we share it with and how.  All of our woes and worries matter, but we don’t need to let them fester to the point of blowing up and out at folks.  Be particular, find a good friend or trusted family member and share your stuff.  Perhaps sharing with a compassionate soul and getting it out in the open will help.  But if it should happen that you carry it too long, and you blow up at someone, take a lesson from Pinterest.  Tell them kindly it had nothing to do with them.  Apologize. And use kind words.  It does a world of wonders, y’all.

We all have messes and issues and troubles and woes.  May we all be as particular as Miss Sophie and as kind as Pinterest when we become overwhelmed by our own troubles and that stuff starts coming out.

Love to all.

Balls and Bicycles and Make-Believe

This afternoon was a joy-filled one on our street.  The weather was close to perfect, and all the children were out playing.  A favorite pastime seems to be bouncing a large ball back and forth to each other or playing keep away with it.  Some of them have started up two or three person football games.  That’s Cooter’s favorite.  He wasn’t sure about it, until one of his friends told him, “Act like he just called you a name, and then you’ll be mad and you can tackle him.”

Good times. Good times.

At least until someone’s feelings or body parts get hurt.

Even then, this crew seems to get over their bruised arms, legs, and spirits pretty quickly.  It makes my heart glad to see them all out there, coming up with different things to play.  I am really thankful for these friends of my children and their families.  I was so enchanted by it this evening that I put off tackling Mt. Washmore (and it’s not because it’s my friend or anything), and I went out to sit on the front steps.  I took Miss Sophie with me, because she enjoys hanging out there too.

She is a pretty timid creature.  She is buoyant and loves our family people, but when it comes to others, she does this jump forward, jump back thing with her tail wagging that gets even more confusing when she starts barking at the new person.  She means well, she’s just socially awkward sometimes.  Much like the rest of us.

As we sat there and she did what she does best, sniffed everything in sight, our new cat who adopted us came up to say hello.  She is beautiful and is about as social as any cat can be, but she has her moments like all cats.  We have given her the moniker of “Luvvy” as in Mrs. Howell (from Gilligan’s Island, y’all) because she has this “fur muff” around her neck.  Very luxurious.  Miss Sophie finds her fascinating and announces her presence whenever she notices the feline through the window–sitting on the outside windowsill, sunning on the back porch, holding court on the front porch, wherever.

While we were enjoying the evening on the steps, Luvvy came up and walked close enough to get Sophie’s attention.  My fluffy girl tried to sniff certain areas as a way of saying hello, and Luvvy had no part of it.  Instead she walked by, tail high in the air, and climbed up on the cedar tree stump from where I grew up, Blackberry Flats.

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And that cat turned her head.  Away. From. My. Pup.

She knew too.  She knew exactly what she was doing.

And poor Sophie.  She kept wagging her tail and inching closer and even making little sounds of “Hey, notice me!  I’m right here. Will you be my friend?”

Bless her.

Luvvy finally had enough and slowly stood up, stretched, and hopped off and wandered away.

Poor Sophie.

She just wanted a friend.

Tonight I’m thankful for the friendships that have formed between the children on our street.  I’ve gone through a similar roller coaster of emotions I did with Miss Sophie with all of my children, “I just want a friend.  I want somebody to play with me.  I wish I had somebody to hang out with.”  Heartbreaking.

But no more.  I’m thankful for the balls and bicycles and make-believe that fill our afternoons and evenings.  I’m thankful for laughter and tumbling in the front yard and dance steps choreographed and dreams created about rooming together at college and living next door to each other many, many years from now.  These friends are the ones that sustain my crew and bring them all so much joy.

May we all find someone who will welcome us and toss us the ball or sit and giggle with us, just enjoying the time spent together.

Love to all.

for the fun of it, another pup looking for a feline friend–

a long time gone

the thing about special days now
is that they will never be the same
without hearing your voice
and that phone call at exactly
the same time every single year

the sound of your voice echoes
in the silence
that inevitably comes
and the moment passes, another year
and still
my heart misses yours

as though it were only yesterday
and you were not a long time gone
from this world
released from the pains
and worries from before
that day that took you away

as the day draws to a close
the darkness suits, doesn’t it
to think of this life without you
from here on out

doesn’t seem like something I’m going to be able to do

and yet I will
of course
and most days I can
but when that phone doesn’t ring
and I don’t hear your voice
at all
on the day you never once let pass
by
without showing your love
or teasing me about getting old

it is almost too much to bear

I don’t have you to call and tell
how much this hurts anymore–
that might be the hardest of all

my friend, part of my heart, is apart
from me
and this life will never be the same again

gone is a complete sentence
to which there is no reply

Three of My Favorite Words

This past week has been filled with texts, posts, e-mails, phone calls, and face to face expressions of three of the most precious words to hear–

“Are you okay?”

I’ve said ’em, I’ve read ’em, I’ve typed ’em, and I’ve even skyped ’em.

Are. You. Okay?

Aren’t they powerful?  To be in the midst of a hard time and have someone come in, take your hands, and look you in the eye and ask that question.  Someone who really cares about your answer.  Or open up an email notification and those be the introductory words.  Or get a text out of the blue with those words or their very close first cousin words–

“How are you?”

It’s been a hard week in many ways, but it has had its brighter moments.  Most of those involve someone I love and one or the other of these three word questions.  In three words I feel embraced, cared about, and like I matter to someone.  With those three words I am seeking to convey all of those things, but mostly I am saying, “I love you and I really want to know that you are okay.”

Because sometimes okay is good enough, okay is real and raw and honest, acknowledging that while all might not be perfect or pleasant or going the way I’d like for it to, I will go on. I will move forward.  Okay is I might be curled up in a ball right now, but I will eat a bite in a little while and I will get dressed and I will do the next thing.  Okay is hesitantly hopeful–okay says I’m here, I showed up, and I will do it again tomorrow.

And in weeks like this, I’ll take it.

I’m okay.  Thanks for checking.

How are you?

Love to all.

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P.S. Before I hit publish, I was doing the nightly wrapping up around here, and I remembered this that made me smile.  About the time Daddy became bedridden in his fight with lymphoma, I came across a Youtube personality, Glozell. (watch this one or this one if you are curious) She made me laugh, but what I remember the most was her introduction.  “Is you okay?  Is you? Good. ‘Cause I wanted to know.”  I started greeting Daddy that way, and it made him laugh.  And because I really did want to know if he was, contextually speaking, okay.  Okay was a gift in those days.  And some days it still is.  Love to all.

Get a Job

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Tonight we were all sitting for a few minutes after swim lessons/practice watching a show together, when Cooter piped up and told his Daddy, “I need fifty dollars.”

(Yeah, I got no idea.)

Before I could say anything in response or cut off the words I was sure were coming from the Fella, sure enough, his Daddy immediately tossed back, “Get a job.”

Uh oh.

Now he’s done it.

Two weeks ago when we were getting ready to leave on our whirlwind trip to Texas, I asked our sweet neighborfriend and her younger son if he would mind feeding our “outside, half feral, roams the neighborhood” cat while we were gone.  He loves cats–I mean, he REALLY loves them–so he eagerly said yes.  The two of them came over to get the details and collect the food the night before we flew out.  As they were walking back to their house, they turned and waved, as I hollered, “Thank you so much! We appreciate y’all!”

Then my little buddy called back, waving, “That’s okay.  You’ll pay me.  Like a million dollars?”

His sweet Mama was mortified.  She immediately started correcting him and apologizing to me at the same time.  She’s good like that.

Bless her, I thought it was funny.  I waved it off, laughing.  They walked home “discussing” his fee.

After we got home, I went over to thank them properly.  I didn’t have a million dollars, but I did want him to know he was appreciated so I had a little something from Texas in hand.

His Mama started laughing and told me what happened after they got home.  She had explained to him that you don’t charge neighbors for helping out like that.  That it was kind and part of being a good neighbor to help each other.

“But Mom,” he explained, “Dad is always telling us to get a job and make some money.”

Well there you go.  Exactly right.  Can’t argue with that logic.

Y’all.  That is just too precious right there, isn’t it? They–all these little people–are listening.

So I fully expect Cooter to come up with something I need to pay him for tomorrow.  Since his Daddy told him to get a job and all.  No telling what it is for, but I expect I’ll hear about that tomorrow too.

Tonight I’m thankful for children who lighten the load with the way they see the world and the laughter they bring.  I give thanks for good neighbors and children willing to work for their dollars.  Most of all, I’m thankful my sweet neighborfriends have moved back after two years of being away.  We have missed them very much. Now they are back to being the Pineapple people, and I’m on a very special “birfday” list again.  Life is good.

Love to all.

A Legacy of Loving

Thursday evening as we pulled into the middle school parking lot, arriving for the littles’ gymnastic recital, Cooter piped up from the backseat, “I wish Maemae weren’t dead.”

Oh my heart.  Bless him.  Me too, baby boy.  Me too.

I’m not sure what prompted him to feel that, but maybe it’s because she was there for his very first gymnastics recital in 2012.  Maybe he was seeing her walking down that sidewalk with us after it was all over, her face beaming and telling him how wonderful he was–I know that memory kept playing over and over in my heart as we drove in and parked.

His sister agreed with him.  My Mama had a special gift of making the one she was talking to feel extra special.  Valued. Loved.  Wanted.  A treasure indeed.  And she never accepted you putting yourself or anyone else down.  Not ever.

She also told me when I needed to get off my pity pot.  But that’s a story for another night.

So this is for my children–the ones she loved, the ones she said made her life “grand”–

Maemae loved you.  She still loves you.  You never failed to put a smile on her face and a song in her heart.  She wanted you since the moment she found out you were on your way.  And she never stopped wanting you–as her grandchild, in her home, sitting next to her, in her heart.

She never stopped, and she sure shooting hasn’t stopped now.

There are going to be these moments in your life when the pain of her being gone is going to be a little harder than normal, like these past few days–special events, moments that make you think of her, or sometimes, for no reason at all.

And here’s what I want you to remember.

Maemae left you a legacy.  A legacy of love.  She loved you so strongly that when you sit and think about her and all you did together, I hope it puts a smile on your face.  Because you never failed to put one on hers.

But she also left you a legacy of loving.  She spent years and years building relationships with people who loved her back and who now love you.  Because you are hers and because you are pretty amazing people all on your own.  Look around at who is there when you have special events.  Look at who answers the phone when you have something to share.  Look at who blesses your heart when times are hard.  Look at who comes and moves you out of your dorm room or listens to you play piano over the phone or on a video.  Look at who listens to your stories and plays with you.  Look at who comments on your posts or sits and makes you laugh.  Look at Who. Shows. Up.

You were loved.  And you still are.

None of those who are here loving you now could replace her, and none of them want to.  But what they can do and WANT TO DO is love you and celebrate you and bring you comfort when you are sad.  And remind you that you are a treasure.

How lucky we are that Maemae was so good at loving people that she left us with all of these folks who love us too!

Our Princess’ dance teacher retired last year.  She returned this afternoon to watch “her girls” perform in their recital.  It was a loving gesture, and the girls were so excited to see her and for her to see what they have learned in a year’s time.

As she and I stood backstage watching them perform, it struck me how fortunate we are that Miss B did such a wonderful job of loving and teaching our girls.  These girls love her and were sad when she decided to retire, but because she passed the love of dancing along to them, they had what they needed to continue with dance when she wasn’t there.

See, if she had empowered them only to love her, none of them would have returned.  What a selfless gift she gave them when she made it bigger than her…..these girls’ love of dance is her legacy.

Maemae was like that with love.  She loved us fiercely and taught us to do the same, but instead of always wanting all that love for herself, she taught us to send it flowing outward to others and others and more others.  It didn’t stop with her, and because of how she loved, it never will.

That is her legacy.

Tonight I am thankful for women who teach and love in such a way that their absence doesn’t stop all the good things they have taught us.  I give thanks that my children remember and miss their Maemae, but even more I am thankful for those who continue to love them in the here and now.  I know she would be the last one wanting them sad on special days like these, and I love her so much for building relationships that feed our souls and warm our hearts and celebrate alongside us.  I don’t know what I would do without those smiling faces in the audience, those loving voices on the phone, the laughter and the willingness to step in and help.  I don’t know what I would do without those who show up.

And I’m thankful I don’t have to.

May we all love and teach the ones around us such that we don’t have to be around for the words and lessons to still matter and guide their hearts.

Love to all.

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Overwhelmed

I have been a bit teary today.

Overwhelmed.

That’s what I’ve felt for a little bit now.

Teary because I’m overwhelmed.

Maybe not how you think though.

Overwhelmed by what people can do.  What their hearts and sweet souls lead them to do that touches the lives of those around them.  Sometimes people they know, and sometimes the lives of complete strangers.

Either way.  It is a sight to behold and amazing to experience.

I have wonderful friends who know that we homeschool and who thought of us when they came across book treasures.  My littles love books almost as much as I do, and they have been busy digging into the new additions to our library.  The idea that people who didn’t have to would take the time not just to see the books and think, “Oh Tara and her zany crew might enjoy these…..” but also make the time and effort to see that those books are put in our hands.

Humbled.  Thrilled.  Grateful.  Teary.

I know of a woman starting out her photography business.  Instead of asking folks on Facebook to help her get clients, she asked about high school seniors in our community who might not otherwise be able to have the excitement of having senior pictures made.  She wanted to get some experience and help someone out at the same time.  What a beautiful way of giving back!  I know how much it meant to my own senior almost two years ago to have that time blocked out where she was the center of attention.  It’s a huge deal and another one of those “traditions” that children from lower-income households might miss out on.  Can you imagine if all of our photographer friends made such an offer to one or two young teens in their community?  That message of “I care” and “you matter to me” is so important for a young person to hear.  I can only imagine the difference that could make in the life of a young person about to embark on a new journey in life.

Really good stuff.

There is a pet trainer who loves what she does–she truly loves animals and their people and gets joy out of making their lives smoother, helping them understand each other better.  She loves what she does so much that she offered her time to help a puppy that was uncomfortable in the bigger classroom setting.  She set aside time to work with the family and taught them things they can do to help the puppy work through what stresses her.  To love your job, your calling so much that you give of yourself, your knowledge, your heart, and your time so freely–that is someone who has a beautiful heart.

Overwhelmed by the kindness.  By the passion for a calling.

I found myself watching a show “Kim of Queens.”  Kim Gravel is a former Miss Georgia who is a pageant coach.  Her style of coaching fascinates me, and it’s a great study in psychology, which I enjoy in lieu of going back to school and taking classes and reading case studies.  It takes less time, and I don’t have to write research papers.  On a recent episode she auditioned for new clients.  A young girl came in whose mother had lost her job, and they had lost their home.  The girl sang for Kim, her Mom, and her sister, and they all fell in love with this girl’s spirit.  Kim offered to coach her for an upcoming pageant.  The show went through all that occurred to get Adia and the rest of the girls ready for the competition.  Though Adia didn’t place, she triumphed.  She did well and overcame her fears, and Kim went to her and her mother at the end of the episode and offered Adia a full scholarship  for her coaching.  To paraphrase the former Miss Georgia, “I run this business to make money.  I like money.  But I don’t love money.  I love changing lives and building strong women.”

Weeping.  Overwhelmed.  By the giving spirit of someone whom folks are lining up to give their money to so she’ll coach their daughters.

Just yes.  This.

Sometimes we need to be reminded of the good in the world, and this past week has been a particularly hard one.

Tonight my heart is lifted.  By the laughter and wisdom shared during an unexpected visit with three strong and beautiful women this afternoon, by the sound of joy and laughter in the voice of my oldest whom I miss when she’s away, and by the kindness of those around me who overwhelm me with their generosity, love, and encouragement.

May we all take time today to think of someone else, to let our passion for what we do, no matter what that is, shine through and brighten someone else’s life.

If we have something, may we share it.

If we have something to give, let us not wait another moment to pass it along.

If we see someone who needs a listening ear, a kind word, or just someone to sit and be quiet with, may we run, not walk, to be right there beside them.

If there is change needed, let us be first in line to get it started.

It only takes one moment of thinking outside the box and making it about someone else to change a life, to change our world.

Tonight I’m most thankful for the tears that flow freely and for being overwhelmed.  To the life changers out there, thank you.

 

Love to all.

train of thoughts

riding on my train of thoughts through haikus tonight…..

 

leftover food and

dishes in the sink are the

remnants of good times

 

it was a joke said

the young boy, “after all I’m

only seven now”

 

she loves to plan fun

and games and things that show all

around they are loved

 

the laughter was good

the friends were the best of all

stories overflowed

 

she’s under my roof

for tonight at least and I

listen for her sounds

 

that one who’s known me

longest, her smile is like his

and it warms my soul

 

all is quiet and

lights are dim, time to lock up

put worries to bed

 

this day is done here

thankful for it all, full heart

memories echo

 

 

Love to all.  

Old Sewing Scissors and Things Made New

This morning our Princess and I had a Mama/Princess event.  Aub was at work, and the Fella and Cooter were out doing their “Guy’s Breakfast.”  So my girl and I went to Bare Bulb Coffee for a tie-dyeing and “upcycling t-shirts into scarves” class led by one of my favorite local artists Micah Goguen and his trusty assistant.

It.  Was.  BIG Fun.

Princess working on her tie dye project.

Princess working on her tie dye project.

Gathered with friends and folks we had not met before, we cut, we twisted, and we bound with rubber bands–so many rubber bands–and then we bleached two color tees (one green and one yellow)-and our Princess added beautiful color to her white tee.  The bleached ones we have already washed, and I love the patterns that came out in them.  The tie-dyed one will be revealed tomorrow.  She is almost beside herself with excitement.

Our Princess' tie-dyed scarf project, waiting for the reveal.

Our Princess’ tie-dyed scarf project, waiting for the reveal.

We returned as a family this afternoon to dye pillowcases to brighten the stays of young ones at the Children’s Hospital in Macon.  For a little guy who didn’t want to go, Cooter had a great time.  He loved blending the colors and turning the white pillowcase into something cheerful and fun.  Cooter, Princess, and my nephew Shaker all enjoyed themselves, and after they’d colored a pillowcase for a child in the hospital, they each were allowed to decorate one for themselves.  They were told that sleeping on it could help them remember to pray for and send light to someone sick in the hospital.

Shaker's pillowcase project.....he was really getting into it by the time he was working on the second one.

Shaker’s pillowcase project…..he was really getting into it by the time he was working on the second one.

Beautiful, right?

This morning my knitting diva friend–Micah’s trusty assistant, who can do anything from building a deck or stairs for her dogs to climb into bed to knitting and sewing clothes for her grandchildren and their dolls, was teaching us how to make the scarves once our fabric was ready.  As she began showing us the first step, she looked around.  “Where are my scissors?” she asked, checking the counter and tables.

Someone reached to hand her a pair of theirs.  “Here, these are really good scissors.”

My friend shook her head gently, and said, almost to herself, “No, let me find my blue-handled ones.”  And then she did.  The lesson continued.

It made me smile.  Just an hour earlier when my girl was getting ready to cut her shirt as directed, she was having a hard time with a pair of scissors.  A kind woman behind us offered us her scissors.  “Here, use these.  They are dressmaker’s scissors.  They are made for cutting fabric.”  (They may have been, but my girl still struggled a bit, which made me wonder about an “operator” issue.  Never mind that, she did get it cut and we moved on.)

It tickled me later when I started thinking back on my day.  And as I laughed to myself, I was also laughing at myself.

I don’t know if it happens all over, but us folks around here, we take our sewing scissors seriously.  In case you didn’t know, yes, sewing scissors are only for sewing.  And they are treasured and taken care of.

Which is probably why I asked if I could have my Mama’s sewing scissors.

To my knowledge they never touched anything other than fabric.

Okay, not more than one time.  And I said I was sorry.

Those scissors were special.  They were always ALWAYS where they belonged (but then again, not much in Mama’s house wasn’t) and they always cut precisely.  I guess because she took them to be sharpened as they needed it.  I can remember seeing signs at Hancock’s Fabrics back in the day with the date the scissors sharpener “truck” would be there.  I guess Mama either took them there or Daddy might have sharpened them for her.  Either way, she took good care of those scissors.  And we knew we were to leave them alone.  They were NEVER EVER to touch paper.  Good heavens above, under NO circumstances were you ever to use them for a school project or even for cutting patterns as I recall.  And I only did once.  I felt so guilty over that, but as they are still cutting just fine, I guess the damage wasn’t irreparable.

I’m just as serious about my sewing scissors.  I don’t let the children use them at all.  I even got other scissors for cutting the fleece for blankets because I heard that fleece can dull them.  (And I am picky about my fleece scissors too–I have the ones that are spring loaded to make it easy for cutting the strips.  I often wonder why the fabric cutters in fabric stores aren’t issued those scissors–they sure can save your hands.)  I am sure I have traumatized a child or three when I’ve seen them casually reaching for my sewing scissors for a craft project.  Oh good gravy no.

Tonight I am thankful for the opportunity to learn a new craft.  Mixing and changing colors–there is something soul-stirring in that.  Creating. All those shades of light and dark coming together to make beauty.  And finding a new purpose for something old and worn out, well, that fills me with hope.  I am looking to be repurposed myself sometimes.  To be made over for a new way to be in this world.  And I’m grateful for the memories of my Mama and her scissors and to have people in my life who still live with the old ways.  Sometimes–no, I’m starting to realize more and more–most of the time, the old ways ARE the best.

I was just thinking, sometimes it’s best to hold on to the old, but sometimes it’s best to create something new…..and sometimes you can do both at the same time…..

Life sure is a funny thing sometimes, isn’t it?

The transformation from t-shirt to scarf…..creation, I love it!

The bottom part used to be the same color as the top part of the shirt.  Who would have thought that bleach would turn it such a beautiful red clay color?

The bottom part used to be the same color as the top part of the shirt. Who would have thought that bleach would turn it such a beautiful red clay color?

Cutting off the bottom seam and then cutting the strips.  So thankful for a GOOD pair of sewing scissors.

Cutting off the bottom seam and then cutting the strips. So thankful for a GOOD pair of sewing scissors.

Almost finished scarf--haven't decided if I'm going to embellish with some old costume jewelry or not.  But very fun, yes?

Almost finished scarf–haven’t decided if I’m going to embellish with some old costume jewelry or not. But very fun, yes?