I lied. Not making a craft-focused blog. That sounds really lame, honestly.
Anyways. My final semester is underway! More posts soon, I hope.
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
Thursday, December 6, 2012
A new era of things lost and found
In my downtime during this Christmas break, and last summer, and last Christmas break, I have discovered a Pinteresting person inside me. Yes. Yes, I am that girl. I make stuff. And I want to show you the stuff I make. Whoooo, look at me be all artsy and.... and.... yeah! Buttons! Sponge art! Paper mache!
Ahem.
To the point, there is another part of me that loses things--I lose safety pins, and scrapbook paper, and whole barrels of beads and buttons. But I also find things. I find new things to make, easier ways to make old things, and rediscover love of certain crafts--like salt dough!
I'm not going to devote hours to showing you how to do things, at least I'm not that crazy yet, but I am going to put up pictures of my creations. If you're a TRUE creative person (like myself) you won't need directions. You'll look at it and say, "Psh, I can make that with my eyes closed." And I'll say, "You go, girl!" (or guy) because that's what it's all about. Artists steal each other's ideas all the time. So feel free to take my ideas and personalize them.
Here is my first example: Christmas Tag Banner/Garland
For this project I used:
-Red, green & white cardstock
-Rubber stamps (Note: ALL of my stamps come from the "value" section of craft stores. None of them cost more than $1.50.) Different stamps: "V" monogram, "be happy", bird, snowflake, various letters.
-Red, green, white and silver ink pads
-Craft paper punches (heart puch, fleur-de-lis punch)
-Approx. 6 yards (3 yards doubled over) of "hemp" craft twine
-Small-scallop craft scissors
This is the first of many crafty posts, I hope. I'll put more up soon, since I just made a bunch of shabby-chic Christmas ornaments yesterday.
Ahem.
To the point, there is another part of me that loses things--I lose safety pins, and scrapbook paper, and whole barrels of beads and buttons. But I also find things. I find new things to make, easier ways to make old things, and rediscover love of certain crafts--like salt dough!
I'm not going to devote hours to showing you how to do things, at least I'm not that crazy yet, but I am going to put up pictures of my creations. If you're a TRUE creative person (like myself) you won't need directions. You'll look at it and say, "Psh, I can make that with my eyes closed." And I'll say, "You go, girl!" (or guy) because that's what it's all about. Artists steal each other's ideas all the time. So feel free to take my ideas and personalize them.
Here is my first example: Christmas Tag Banner/Garland
For this project I used:
-Red, green & white cardstock
-Rubber stamps (Note: ALL of my stamps come from the "value" section of craft stores. None of them cost more than $1.50.) Different stamps: "V" monogram, "be happy", bird, snowflake, various letters.
-Red, green, white and silver ink pads
-Craft paper punches (heart puch, fleur-de-lis punch)
-Approx. 6 yards (3 yards doubled over) of "hemp" craft twine
-Small-scallop craft scissors
This is the first of many crafty posts, I hope. I'll put more up soon, since I just made a bunch of shabby-chic Christmas ornaments yesterday.
The creative spirit runs free again
Some of you might be wondering, where have I been for the last several months? I know, I know--only 15 people "follow" my blog, and who could say if they actually read it? Nevertheless, there might be someone out there begging the universe to tell me of my whereabouts.
It would be simplest to say, "I've been student teaching," but it would not be an honest answer nor would it be simple because, of course, such an occupation hides a multitude of other situations and events which are probably all worthy of my blog and should be justified by having me write of them. So, to begin.
I have been reading books, such as:
Children of the River
An Ocean Apart, a World Away
The Breadwinner
Shabanu
Stepping on the Cracks
The View from Saturday
I have been designing creative, artistic writing lessons, which often include drawing.
I have been slowly re-learning everything there is to know about grammar. Like prepositions, fragmented sentences, and compound subjects--just to name a few.
I have been making friends with 94 sixth-graders, and a handful of teachers who love middle schoolers just as much as I do--or at least almost as much as I do.
In addition to all of that I have been sleeping very little and doing a lot of walking, talking, classroom-managing, field tripping, and grading. It's been an exhausting, exasperating, exhilarating adventure.
And now it's time to adjourn from this phase of my life, and move on to a more peaceful time. For now. In addition to that, I would also like to move my blog in another direction. See the next entry to discover what I mean by that statement. :)
It would be simplest to say, "I've been student teaching," but it would not be an honest answer nor would it be simple because, of course, such an occupation hides a multitude of other situations and events which are probably all worthy of my blog and should be justified by having me write of them. So, to begin.
I have been reading books, such as:
Children of the River
An Ocean Apart, a World Away
The Breadwinner
Shabanu
Stepping on the Cracks
The View from Saturday
I have been designing creative, artistic writing lessons, which often include drawing.
I have been slowly re-learning everything there is to know about grammar. Like prepositions, fragmented sentences, and compound subjects--just to name a few.
I have been making friends with 94 sixth-graders, and a handful of teachers who love middle schoolers just as much as I do--or at least almost as much as I do.
In addition to all of that I have been sleeping very little and doing a lot of walking, talking, classroom-managing, field tripping, and grading. It's been an exhausting, exasperating, exhilarating adventure.
And now it's time to adjourn from this phase of my life, and move on to a more peaceful time. For now. In addition to that, I would also like to move my blog in another direction. See the next entry to discover what I mean by that statement. :)
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
So long sweet summer
I wonder how many times in the last ten years of my life I have pondered over that line, those lyrics, and sung them in my head, and gotten lost in the song like it was the summer of 2002 all over again.
"So long sweet summer. I fell into you, now you're gracefully falling away."
I know it's not cool to listen to Dashboard Confessional anymore, but I liked them before they were cool, and I'll keep liking them for a while, probably. It's just such a perfect song, which, regardless of how your summer went, always seems to capture the majority of what I'm feeling.
I spent my summer as a stay at home wife. I made candles and washed dishes and decorated the walls. I read too many books to count. I went to the beach and felt totally at peace, and got a sunburn. I procrastinated and slept in and played video games like a boy. I worried about my husband and about money and about being sick and about money some more and about relationships. I thought deeply about student teaching, but did not worry, for some reason.
And two weeks from today (today still being Wednesday) I'll be starting student teaching. It's not in the city I wanted, not with the age group I wanted, but I am hoping it will be a good experience. I am hoping that I can spare the money to get enough "teacher" clothes to wear 5 days a week for three months. (I will miss you, blue jeans.) I am hoping that I remember all the important stuff and forget about prejudices against sixth graders. Maybe.
And I'm hoping that the next few weeks can give me what I need. I hope I get enough sleep and feel at peace when it's over, peace that it IS over, and peace that it will someday come again. I hope that I can go to the beach early in the morning, one more time. I hope that I can do all the crafty things on my list and finish one more book and have time to get all those "teacher" clothes I am dreading.
But most importantly, I hope I find some secret grain of wisdom in the next few months, with an age group I didn't ask for, in a city I didn't ask for, just side-effects of the adventure I asked for.
"So long sweet summer. I fell into you, now you're gracefully falling away."
I know it's not cool to listen to Dashboard Confessional anymore, but I liked them before they were cool, and I'll keep liking them for a while, probably. It's just such a perfect song, which, regardless of how your summer went, always seems to capture the majority of what I'm feeling.
I spent my summer as a stay at home wife. I made candles and washed dishes and decorated the walls. I read too many books to count. I went to the beach and felt totally at peace, and got a sunburn. I procrastinated and slept in and played video games like a boy. I worried about my husband and about money and about being sick and about money some more and about relationships. I thought deeply about student teaching, but did not worry, for some reason.
And two weeks from today (today still being Wednesday) I'll be starting student teaching. It's not in the city I wanted, not with the age group I wanted, but I am hoping it will be a good experience. I am hoping that I can spare the money to get enough "teacher" clothes to wear 5 days a week for three months. (I will miss you, blue jeans.) I am hoping that I remember all the important stuff and forget about prejudices against sixth graders. Maybe.
And I'm hoping that the next few weeks can give me what I need. I hope I get enough sleep and feel at peace when it's over, peace that it IS over, and peace that it will someday come again. I hope that I can go to the beach early in the morning, one more time. I hope that I can do all the crafty things on my list and finish one more book and have time to get all those "teacher" clothes I am dreading.
But most importantly, I hope I find some secret grain of wisdom in the next few months, with an age group I didn't ask for, in a city I didn't ask for, just side-effects of the adventure I asked for.
Monday, July 2, 2012
If the walls of this room could talk... would they lie?
A partial quote from a favorite song by Ryan Adams is being used this week, because Ryan Adams is the the voice in my head when no one else is around. Not because the voice of God is elusive or that I favor Ryan Adams' voice over the voices of people in my life, but because I've spent so many years listening to his music in solitude that it has become habitual.
I have been trying to find a decent way to say what must be said without causing alarm for anyone. But there's also a part of me that loves being dramatic, loves to cause alarm, only to crush the feeling of shock with something anticlimactic and dull. So here it is: Joey and I are spending the week apart, at least until Thursday. Because we're having a huge fight!
Not really. More accurately, moving to Waukegan has squandered what little money we had to begin with. That, in addition to Joey having less hours at both jobs this last week, and the continual need to put gas in the car because both job are now a half hour from home, have contributed to the need to not spend any money until Friday. Joey will be staying with a friend back on campus, and will be here at the apartment--without the car, all alone, listening to Ryan Adams.
The only thing that makes this tolerable is that before marriage Joey and I spent most of our relationship apart. And I really mean most of our time, and I really mean very far apart. We're talking 2200 miles while I was at school for nine months of the year (for two years), and 70 miles while I was at home. [So to all of you people who complain that your sweetheart lives thirty minutes away or that you only get to see each other on the weekends, please shut up. Unless they live in another country, or they don't believe in e-mail/phone/etc. communication, you have no space for complaints.]
It will not be entirely difficult to get back into the routine of talking on the phone. And this is not the first time we've been apart since we've been married. Last August I was on a leadership retreat and was gone for a few days. But this will be the first time I will have to sleep in our bed by myself--although it is a wonderously comfortable bed. The other night, while mostly asleep, I described it as being made of "clouds, marshmallows, and angel wings." And it's just a mattress on the floor. No box spring. No bed frame. (though I wish we had both, because all normal adults do.)
So now, I get to do what I've wanted to do all year, and that's be a housewife. I will continue unpacking, there are only a few boxes left. I will hang things on walls and wash dishes and bake cookies and... maybe I'll even sew something. And I will miss my dear husband, all day, every day, until he comes home.
I have been trying to find a decent way to say what must be said without causing alarm for anyone. But there's also a part of me that loves being dramatic, loves to cause alarm, only to crush the feeling of shock with something anticlimactic and dull. So here it is: Joey and I are spending the week apart, at least until Thursday. Because we're having a huge fight!
Not really. More accurately, moving to Waukegan has squandered what little money we had to begin with. That, in addition to Joey having less hours at both jobs this last week, and the continual need to put gas in the car because both job are now a half hour from home, have contributed to the need to not spend any money until Friday. Joey will be staying with a friend back on campus, and will be here at the apartment--without the car, all alone, listening to Ryan Adams.
The only thing that makes this tolerable is that before marriage Joey and I spent most of our relationship apart. And I really mean most of our time, and I really mean very far apart. We're talking 2200 miles while I was at school for nine months of the year (for two years), and 70 miles while I was at home. [So to all of you people who complain that your sweetheart lives thirty minutes away or that you only get to see each other on the weekends, please shut up. Unless they live in another country, or they don't believe in e-mail/phone/etc. communication, you have no space for complaints.]
It will not be entirely difficult to get back into the routine of talking on the phone. And this is not the first time we've been apart since we've been married. Last August I was on a leadership retreat and was gone for a few days. But this will be the first time I will have to sleep in our bed by myself--although it is a wonderously comfortable bed. The other night, while mostly asleep, I described it as being made of "clouds, marshmallows, and angel wings." And it's just a mattress on the floor. No box spring. No bed frame. (though I wish we had both, because all normal adults do.)
So now, I get to do what I've wanted to do all year, and that's be a housewife. I will continue unpacking, there are only a few boxes left. I will hang things on walls and wash dishes and bake cookies and... maybe I'll even sew something. And I will miss my dear husband, all day, every day, until he comes home.
Sunday, June 24, 2012
In transition
I'm about to head out the door, for a second drive up to Waukegan with a car full of boxes. Having just barely made the rent an deposit, I became depressed and didn't pack as much as necessary this last week. So we did a lot of it today, and yesterday. The furniture will be moved on Tuesday. Everything else will trickle up there in the car, box by box, bag by bag, until this apartment is empty and the new one is full and waiting to be transformed into "home."
The process has been painful. The anxiety I thought I could leave behind for the summer practically flung itself back upon me. It's been hard to sleep an hard to eat and therefore also hard to stay awake when I have things to do that require... well, awakeness, and energy. Four separate times we found a place to live and began the process and then the plan got shot down. We wasted a whole month, getting run around in circles by a little old lady with an apartment on her property. And we looked at a place with bugs in it on the third floor of a creepy building, with rickety stairs. We looked at two places with a potential roommate, and then that also fell through. (It wasn't an upsetting experience, and there are no hard feelings, but it did mean we had to start over.) My trust in God has been such a rollercoaster over the last few months. We found something good and then it was taken away, and that happened FOUR times in less than two months.
You always know that if God takes something away, he has something better in mind in the future. But God also lets people become homeless. He lets their spouses die. Bad things happen to good people, bad things happen to those whom God loves. That was my fear: that God wanted to teach me something through loss, and that's why we couldn't find a place to live.
Thankfully, that isn't how it happened. Instead, I had to let go of some pride, as did my husband, and we had to ask for help from friends. Like knowing that God has a plan, you also know that God gives you friends for a reason. Not just because they're fun to be around, not just because they give us joy, but because sometimes they actually represent God's provision and grace in a tangible way.
The car is almost full. I have to carry down my picnic basket full of tea things. After dropping this stuff off at the apartment we're going to get some last-minute anniversary things, and tomorrow I will have been married for a whole year. Insert mushy comments here.
The process has been painful. The anxiety I thought I could leave behind for the summer practically flung itself back upon me. It's been hard to sleep an hard to eat and therefore also hard to stay awake when I have things to do that require... well, awakeness, and energy. Four separate times we found a place to live and began the process and then the plan got shot down. We wasted a whole month, getting run around in circles by a little old lady with an apartment on her property. And we looked at a place with bugs in it on the third floor of a creepy building, with rickety stairs. We looked at two places with a potential roommate, and then that also fell through. (It wasn't an upsetting experience, and there are no hard feelings, but it did mean we had to start over.) My trust in God has been such a rollercoaster over the last few months. We found something good and then it was taken away, and that happened FOUR times in less than two months.
You always know that if God takes something away, he has something better in mind in the future. But God also lets people become homeless. He lets their spouses die. Bad things happen to good people, bad things happen to those whom God loves. That was my fear: that God wanted to teach me something through loss, and that's why we couldn't find a place to live.
Thankfully, that isn't how it happened. Instead, I had to let go of some pride, as did my husband, and we had to ask for help from friends. Like knowing that God has a plan, you also know that God gives you friends for a reason. Not just because they're fun to be around, not just because they give us joy, but because sometimes they actually represent God's provision and grace in a tangible way.
The car is almost full. I have to carry down my picnic basket full of tea things. After dropping this stuff off at the apartment we're going to get some last-minute anniversary things, and tomorrow I will have been married for a whole year. Insert mushy comments here.
Sunday, June 10, 2012
Soon I'll be a stranger in a strange new place
Less than three weeks from today I will be living in a new apartment, in a new city, with new bills to pay and new people to meet. Strange as it may seem, this is as close to the real world as I have ever gotten. Living on Trinity's campus isn't exactly like living in a safe bubble--not nearly as much as people think, especially if you rent an apartment. But, it's all I've known. I have always lived with my parents or on campus. This is the first time I'm living somewhere that isn't either of those things.
It's a rattling feeling. I'm excited, but I'm also a little scared. I can't wait to move all of our stuff out of here and into the new place, and at the same time I am avoiding packing. I don't know what to pack first. I'm afraid I'll put something at the bottom of a box and I'll need it tomorrow. I'm afraid I'll put something fragile in a box, and that one box will somehow manage to fall apart and break everything inside. Also.... I really just don't know where to start.
When I sat down today and realized for the billionth time since we got approved yesterday that yes, we are moving, a song came to mind. 'Anatevka' from Fiddler on the Roof. It decently sums up my feelings at the moment. I am happy to be leaving, happy about the situation, but living on campus has been wonderful. I have loved being close to all my friends that are still on campus, and have loved going to classes. Now that I'm leaving, and I'll be student teaching this fall, everything will be different. It's just a little bittersweet..
Anatevka
A little bit of this, a little bit of that.
A pot, a pan, a broom, a hat.
Someone should have set a match to this place years ago.
A bench, a tree.
So, what's a stove? Or a house?
People who pass through Anatevka don't even know they've been here.
A stick of wood. A piece of cloth.
What do we leave? Nothing much.
Only Anatevka.
Anatevka, Anatevka.
Underfed, overworked Anatevka.
Where else could Sabbath be so sweet?
Anatevka, Anatevka.
Intimate, obstinate Anatevka,
Where I know everyone I meet.
Soon I'll be a stranger in a strange new place,
Searching for an old familiar face
From Anatevka.
I belong in Anatevka,
Tumble-down, work-a-day Anatevka.
Dear little village, little town of mine
It's a rattling feeling. I'm excited, but I'm also a little scared. I can't wait to move all of our stuff out of here and into the new place, and at the same time I am avoiding packing. I don't know what to pack first. I'm afraid I'll put something at the bottom of a box and I'll need it tomorrow. I'm afraid I'll put something fragile in a box, and that one box will somehow manage to fall apart and break everything inside. Also.... I really just don't know where to start.
When I sat down today and realized for the billionth time since we got approved yesterday that yes, we are moving, a song came to mind. 'Anatevka' from Fiddler on the Roof. It decently sums up my feelings at the moment. I am happy to be leaving, happy about the situation, but living on campus has been wonderful. I have loved being close to all my friends that are still on campus, and have loved going to classes. Now that I'm leaving, and I'll be student teaching this fall, everything will be different. It's just a little bittersweet..
Anatevka
A little bit of this, a little bit of that.
A pot, a pan, a broom, a hat.
Someone should have set a match to this place years ago.
A bench, a tree.
So, what's a stove? Or a house?
People who pass through Anatevka don't even know they've been here.
A stick of wood. A piece of cloth.
What do we leave? Nothing much.
Only Anatevka.
Anatevka, Anatevka.
Underfed, overworked Anatevka.
Where else could Sabbath be so sweet?
Anatevka, Anatevka.
Intimate, obstinate Anatevka,
Where I know everyone I meet.
Soon I'll be a stranger in a strange new place,
Searching for an old familiar face
From Anatevka.
I belong in Anatevka,
Tumble-down, work-a-day Anatevka.
Dear little village, little town of mine
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)