Allegory

I don't always have a plan or even know what I'm doing,

But things generally work out in the end.

For instance, take this costume-y jacket that I found a year ago,

And these super-fly shoes that I found recently (for 80% off) 

while at an out-of-town wedding,

And the skirts that I've collected over a year's span...

Voila!

Oftentimes, we have to just do what we know is right, trusting that things will all come together in the end.

Whatever you're working on today - a question, a family, a plan - I pray that you go through it with joy and peace and assurance that it's worth sticking it out.

Merry Christmas!

18 Months

That's how long it took me to dress for church this morning.

Okay,

I mean, that's how long it took me to find this skirt,

to complete this ensemble,

to duplicate this look, I mean.

It was 18 months ago that I pinned the inspiration

~ time enough for a trend to pass

~ time enough for me to forget how much I liked it.
But that's the brilliance of Pinterest.

I pinned it and I waited and I watched the thrift store racks

...for 18 months...

But I completed the task!

inspiration source:  refinery29.com via Pinterest

What good are all those pins anyway without the follow-through?

What counts is that I'm happy with the result.

It's Been A While

"Oh...my...gosh.  Oh my gosh," I said in a growly, gutteral, oh my gosh kind of way as I pulled the dress from the pile.

My friend gave a sideways glance.

"For real," I said.  "How lovely."

Crickets chirruping.

"Don't you think this is a beautiful dress," I finally asked.

Still, no verbal affirmation but I think her answer was in the raised eyebrow and pursed lips.  We talked then about how well the 60's polyester holds its color and the fact that I'd better not light a match.



I was in a quandary for whether to wear it now, as we ease into the fall fashion season, or wait till the more springy season when the colors might make more sense.  I knew that "now" would require one of those "completer piece" things and then I remembered the pea green top thing.  I found it a couple of months ago and knew instantly that it was not for me. The fit, the color ~ I'm pretty sure that infant poo has never been the It color (but I kept it, just in case.)

...and then I sprained something.

So there are plenty of reasons for me not to have worn this.  Truth is, though, it's been a while since I
was this inspired by my ensemble, and that, seriously, should be one of our guiding factors when assembling a wardrobe.  Don't ya think?

Ten Hour Hat

I trust that by now I've raised your level of expectation regarding the photography aspect of this blog to that of greatest awfulticity.  And so, in my sincere desire never to disappoint, here is my latest installment.

But listen, for real.  As bad as that looks, it turned out to be one of my best attempts ever, ensemble-wise.  I left the house with confidence and zeal because that is the baddest hat on the planet.  But also because I'd driven ten hours to obtain the hat, there was a certain joy in having finally figured out what to do with it.

See, there's this event that happens twice a year in Gay, Georgia, that my mom, my sister, and I have been attending regularly since it started back in 1973.  The Cotton Pickin' Fair is like etsy, only live, and way better because it smells like farmland and biscuits and there's square dancin' and fiddlin' and cotton candy and an atmosphere that stirs what I know is my pioneer blood.

Before I moved to Florida, the fair was an hour-and-a-half away but now it's more like a five hour drive.  I go as much to breathe in that air in the company of my family as for anything else; however, there's no denying the allure of the craftsmen.  My rule is that purchases must be of things nowhere else to be found.

Here, I have to show you one of my favorites ~ an angel crafted from the bits of an old church salvaged somewhere in Alabama. 






So anyhow, a couple of years ago, I stumbled across The Hat Peddler's wares, and across one hat in particular.  In my genuine attempt to be a conscientious shopper, I left and came back to the hat several times but eventually left the fair without it. What resulted was a year-long pining away and search for its nonexistent replacement.  Finally, I contacted the shop owner, described the hat, asked her to duplicate it, and made the ten hour round trip to obtain it (at the following fair.)

Did I already say it's the 
baddest hat on the planet?











Anyhow, turns out the hat has stamina too because, whilst wearing it, the man and I excurded with both g'girls for what turned out to be a ten hour day.  Whew.

And speaking of my man ~ because I love him and want to honor him ~ though most of all, I want to acknowledge his comments about my hat, this one's for him...

You're so vain,
You probably think this
post 
is about you...

The Americanino Way

I thought it would be about my boots.
Or about the absurdity of wearing them after the climate change.

Or maybe about the validity of wearing white britches before Memorial day, even.

I thought I'd have a picture which highlighted my ability to rise above the clutter and chaos, resultant of keeping a three-year-old g'girl and a four-month-old g'boy entertained and trained.

But after 47 attempts and tinkers with the tripod and arranging the kidlets and closing the doors and telling honey hush, I knew I'd taken the very last one when g'girl said, "MeeMee, Pop is behind you making faces!"  Seriously, I just turned the camera off and went to edit.

This is The Way - the way that it is.  I'm fiddlin' with a (ridiculous) hobby; honey is making fun; g'girl is singing like a bird; baby man is wondering what in the what he has gotten himself into.

It's a good way.



By the way, the boots were $2; needed some work but were worth it; could not wait till fall.

Also for the record, honey's first response was to ask if I remember CHIPS.

The Fabric Of Our Lives

Okay, first off, I know how to party like a rock star.  I like biker boots and metal studs on any (or all) article(s) of my clothing.  I have tattoos.

So with that out of the way, this last weekend I went to church camp with a bunch of girls and made a quilt.

I can't tell you everything because, 1) I don't do that, and, 2) I hope those ladies have another one of these "spend the night in the woods, hand-stitching stuff" retreats and I don't want to spoil it for any who might attend.

But I also need to read mine to you.

It's necessary that you know we heard a talk, first off.  It was about some things and about how we should choose fabrics for this thing in accordance with things that mean things to us.  Got that?

"Choose fabrics that have meaning."  And then the first step was to choose the starter kit...which was a bag containing the center cross portion, the six strips around it, the batting, and the backing.  Read:  we didn't have a lot of choice in that part of the assembly.  And we had a (necessary) time limit in which to pick it.

The next step was to choose the two longer pieces in the middle portion and the last step [(before starting the actual stitching steps, needless to say) (but I've obviously just said it anyway)] was to choose the two largest strips on the outside.

Now, I don't know if y'all've realized this by now, but I need stuff to mean stuff.  When they told me to choose fabrics that meant something, I was all up in that, you get what I'm sayin'?  But since I didn't have time to choose pieces that told my life story, I decided to tell a color story and it started with that darkest and most colorful piece.  I was enamored with that fabric and began to work everything else around it. ...

Meaning that I wound up acting a little like a diva or a completely spoiled brat.  In my defense, I saw another lady trade one piece of fabric between her starter kit and one of those kits not chosen so I didn't actually start it.  (pointless grin, here.)  Anyhow, I began a process of switch and switch and switch until I had everything just the way I wanted it ~ to tell my color story.  (One of the very gracious leaders kept assuring me that it was okay ~ they wanted me to be happy with it at the end.)

So it's also necessary for you to know that we heard another talk.  It was about how we don't always understand things while they are happening but often in the hindsight...and that's when I started to see.

First, I realized that my first favorite fabric was the first disciple¹, Peter, the one with whom I most relate, that sometimes crazy-acting guy who did, in fact, turn out okay. This means something to me.

This is not just colorful, but living.

And then I saw, in the second piece I'd chosen, my first scripture passage, the one from which my grandma taught me to read, the one from which my faith was established.

“Let not your heart be troubled; you believe in God, believe also in Me.

In My Father’s house are many mansions; 

if it were not so, I would have told you. 

I go to prepare a place for you." 

John 14:1-2

Here is my guiding scripture.

"I have been crucified with Christ; 

it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me..."

Galatians 2:20

Here is one of my favorite passages, Psalm 139.

I suggest clicking through to read all of that one!

The Trinity.

My family.

And the unknown future.

Unknown to me, that is.  And that brings me to the last piece, which happens to be (from) the first that I chose - that starter kit - and the piece that I actually liked the very least of all because I did not think it went with my story.  I did not know at the beginning of this process why it was, but I could not make myself replace that piece.

"In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while, if need be, you have been grieved by various trials,  that the genuineness of your faith, being much more precious than gold that perishes, though it is tested by fire, may be found to praise, honor, and glory at the revelation of Jesus Christ,  whom having not seen you love." 1 Peter 1:6-8

My genuine faith in Jesus Christ, more precious to me than gold, has always been at the center of it all.

And while I planned and planned (read:  attempted to control) this whole thing, only He knew where it was actually going.  In the end, "my patchwork has become God's artwork." Gemma Parmer

Okay, that's all I'm gonna tell ya.  Except for the P.S.

P.S. Those of us sitting right together kept trying to wind up each having a same piece of fabric in our quilts.  Finally, we chose a fabric that none of us had and did this so that we would leave that place carrying a piece of one another's hearts with us forever.

You May Now Party On!
For-ever, I pray!

1 I've since realized that Peter was not the actual very first Disciple, but you get it.

Tradition

This was gonna be called "Half-Price"

because

I've worn that skirt twice now.

Seeeee.  See how that works out.

However, I'm wearing it today out of a (fond) sense of tradition.  In all my growing up, getting dressed for Easter Sunday was some serious business.  In this way, I am still child-like and clinging to the old ways.

But I also believe that my faith is organic, that it breathes and grows and changes - and not always in the anticipated, traditional ways.

So below is one of my favorite stories and I'm quoting it from Eugene Peterson's paraphrase, The Message.  Having grown up on the Old King James, I must assure you that this is a true demonstration of just how progressive I've become.

"That same day two of them were walking to the village Emmaus, about seven miles out of Jerusalem. They were deep in conversation, going over all these things that had happened. In the middle of their talk and questions, Jesus came up and walked along with them. But they were not able to recognize who he was.

He asked, “What’s this you’re discussing so intently as you walk along?”

They just stood there, long-faced, like they had lost their best friend. Then one of them, his name was Cleopas, said, “Are you the only one in Jerusalem who hasn’t heard what’s happened during the last few days?”

He said, “What has happened?”

They said, “The things that happened to Jesus the Nazarene. He was a man of God, a prophet, dynamic in work and word, blessed by both God and all the people. Then our high priests and leaders betrayed him, got him sentenced to death, and crucified him. And we had our hopes up that he was the One, the One about to deliver Israel. And it is now the third day since it happened. But now some of our women have completely confused us. Early this morning they were at the tomb and couldn’t find his body. They came back with the story that they had seen a vision of angels who said he was alive. Some of our friends went off to the tomb to check and found it empty just as the women said, but they didn’t see Jesus.”

Then he said to them, “So thick-headed! So slow-hearted! Why can’t you simply believe all that the prophets said? Don’t you see that these things had to happen, that the Messiah had to suffer and only then enter into his glory?” Then he started at the beginning, with the Books of Moses, and went on through all the Prophets, pointing out everything in the Scriptures that referred to him.

They came to the edge of the village where they were headed. He acted as if he were going on but they pressed him: “Stay and have supper with us. It’s nearly evening; the day is done.” So he went in with them. And here is what happened: He sat down at the table with them. Taking the bread, he blessed and broke and gave it to them. At that moment, open-eyed, wide-eyed, they recognized him. And then he disappeared." Luke 24:13:31

I hope that you have had a lovely, blessed Easter and that your eyes have seen the risen Lord Jesus!

Okay, Okay...

I mighta cheated a little at this one.

I've been staring long and hard at every crinoline and drape that comes through the Bargain Box, attempting to find the thing that I can convert into my dream tulle skirt but to no avail.  And y'all don't seem to be wantin' to come off of yours.

So I found this skirt on ebay.

Go ahead, gasp and cringe.  Not really!

I've had the shoes since long before I began this (mostly) dollar dressing adventure so we're calling them fully depreciated.

The rest of it did come from the thrift shop so I've copied one of my favorite pins for still less than $25.


And that's pretty okay.  Okay?  Okay.

inpiration pin
source:  whatsaybeauty.tumblr

Pink Is IN

I really wasn't sure how - or even if - I'd ever wear a pink (faux) fur collar but it was in my "just in case" stash, just in case.

Then a friend said something about the ridiculosity of having seen someone wearing a (pink) neck pillow at the airport.
And not just, like,
on the airplane, but
hanging around the airport,
boarding the airplane.
That kind of (ridiculous) wearing.

Got me thinking, though...

Anything they can do, I can (probably) do for a dollar.
Or two, counting my shirt!

And who in her right mind would pass on such an opportunity as that?!

Add A Little Pop

I typically avoid black and white combos just because, 

for so many years, it was all that I wore.  

Or grey.  Or brown.  My wardrobe was devoid of color.

So these days, black and white's gonna be one of the last things I do.

Unless I happen to realize that the oldest g'baby also has black rain boots and a black and white top and then it's just as if I've added a little pop of sunshine!

That little pop of red in her hair, by the way, was entirely her idea. For real.

(Excluding my jeans) we're representing $5 worth of wardrobe here.

As Good As It Gets

I asked my daughter if I looked okay

and she said,

"Ummmm, well, okay for you."

And that's pretty much as good a compliment as I ever get from any of them.

"It looks good - for you."

"It looks normal - for you."

And then there's the photography.

Is this not the worst you've seen so far?!
 

You can't even tell I'm wearing a cool hat!

 

I think this is pretty much it, though.

This must be the best we're gonna do.

 

And I couldn't care less about any of that because...

It doesn't
get
any better
than
this
right
here.