What better place could there be for Sir Dane, than to be surrounded by ancient castles and motes and bridges? He is really happy in this place.
He’s still in Lithuania but he’s been transferred to a village called Siauliai. I know…I know. No idea how you pronounce that one. He said it was like being taken to the Hobbit Shire, in Middle Earth.
He was asked to speak in the business school in town. They wanted to hear an “actual American” speaking “proper English.” If you knew Dane before he left and ever heard his fake foreign or his own personal slang–you’d know funny that is.
My sweet boy has been gone for 1 year and 5 months—which means, he will be home in about 7 months! Wahooo!
Just in time for the bald kid—our baby, to step up.
Don’t you just love the book, “A Very Hungry Caterpillar?” It has been one of my favorites since I picked it up in a local bookstore when I was a teenager. This sweet book is 40 years old this year and with celebrations going on world wide–how could we possibly do anything different today other than say, “Wahoo!” for the most famous caterpillar of all time?
If you own the book–now would be a great time to pull it down from the shelf and read it to your kids–no matter how old they are. If you don’t have the book–that’s ok too.
This year marks the 40th anniversary of The Very Hungry Caterpillar, which was published in 1969. Celebrations and activities based on this much-loved book will be held throughout the year in schools and libraries and by readers and friends all around the world. Also, a special edition of the book, The Very Hungry Caterpillar Pop-Up Book featuring Eric Carle’s illustrations in a 3-dimensional format, will be available for sale at your local bookstore.
Now, go eat an apple, 2 pears, 3 plums, 4 strawberries, 5 oranges, some chocolate cake, an ice cream cone, a pickle, some Swiss cheese, a slice of salami, a lolipop, a piece of cherry pie, a sausage and a cupcake. If you really want to be a sport–try a leaf for dessert.
Happy Reading!
“A Very Hungry Caterpillar” quilt is from the Springville Art Museum 2009 Quilt Fair.
This week’s food storage prompt is: 1 can tuna, 3 cans mushroom soup
Because it looks like this—yes that is snow—in the mountains by our house we know that our time to relish the Autumn-y look and feel of our beloved canyon is limited. Soon, it may all be under snow–perhaps even before the leaves all have a chance to turn.
So, we bundled up warm and headed out again to the woods.
Now I realize that most forest trails aren’t paved…but this is a more civilized forest, I guess you’d say.
One with everything the modern woodland hiker needs. A beautiful rock to sit on…
Ever dream of being so pulled together during the holiday season that you not only pass out Halloween treats to the neighborhood kids–but to the neighbors themselves? And to top that off, what if the the snack bags looked…well…stunning? Sound impossible? Well, not now…
Here’s how to do it.
You’ll need:
Clear cello bags
3/4 inch black or orange ribbon
Printable address labels
Halloween treats (We made our famous popcorn ball recipe without shaping them into balls)
Fill the cello bags with whatever Halloween goodies you’d like. Seal them with tape or a twist tie. Wrap the ribbon around the middle of the bag and secure with a square knot.
Click on this Classy Halloween Labels link to print off some fabulous spooky labels of your own. Be sure to type your own name below the “Happy Halloween.” Load your printer with Standard 1″x 2-1/2″ address labels and push print. Stick them on and pass out your pretty stuff. Or you can run them off on heavy paper and use them as tags–either way—
With Autumn coming on hard and fast in these parts—I thought I’d be clever and make an attempt to clean up the weedy garden so that the last of the zucchini and cucumbers and tomatoes could be picked and piled and brought inside one final time. The ground had been soaked the night before so the grass and weeds and spent plants pulled up very easily. I was making great progress and feeling quite pleased with myself. Just as I was about to move to the tomato row and continue on–while the garden was still in shade–a strange thought went through my head. As clear and distinct as a bell the thought was, “Get some gloves on.” Well, that wouldn’t be any real big deal except that I didn’t actually have any gloves. So I sat there, not really sure what to do.
Now understand that I’m a big believer in following impressions, the Spirit, my heart–however you are comfortable putting it. I’ve learned that things always, always turn out better if you listen when you are prompted. But the ground was soft, the shade was perfect and the weeds were willing to come out. I didn’t want to stop. Maybe I could just clear out this first tomato plant. Maybe I could just…I knew better.
Exasperated, I gathered up my tools and trudged into the house. After cleaning up I headed to the store to look for some gloves, but the season was over and there wasn’t even a garden section anymore. I had to make do with some lame cloth work gloves–but it would be too late in the day to begin again anyway. The weeds would have to wait till tomorrow. Luckily, the ground was still relatively soft the next morning. With my silly work gloves on I was determined to finish the entire section and again, made great time. Clearing every blade of grass and weed away from the tomatoes I moved on to the zucchini, watermelon and pumpkins. Ok, I didn’t quite get to the cucumbers, but dang the garden looked good.
So good in fact, that when my son-in-law came home from work that evening, I begged him to go clear out to the garden to see my work. Standing on the deck we waited while he walked around admiring the plants he could actually see now. As he leaned down close to the tomatoes, he reached down to pick one, but instead, he hollered, “Bring me a bucket!”
We did.
And this is what he found…
A very, very Black Widow
At the base of the first tomato plant that I was trying to weed the day before, without gloves—and the same one that I had meticulously cleared that very day with gloves, sat a big, fat, creeptacular Black Widow. Yeah, I’m pretty sure that 51 year-old ladies really don’t want to get bit by Black Widows. It’s a policy we have. Luckily, the brave knight slew the dreadful Charlotte and all was well again in Zion. But I’ll tell you something–next time, when I hear a whisper, I won’t argue for a second. I’ll just move.
And so you see, dear reader—that the moral of this story is:
All those good ideas, and epiphanies and warnings and nudges and nagging feelings that we have—all the time…
They are given to us for our own good—but can only help if we listen.
A very, very Black Widow