Creative Homemaker

Today I discovered that someone has used my debit card, or rather used both Bear’s and mine. The transactions only add up to about $20, but that’s not the point. Someone has been getting in and I feel violated, privacy lost, security stifled, angry, depressed and just plain cranky. For the record, I have cancelled both cards, alerted the bank and contacted the merchants to whom the transactions were supposedly made. One of them said it couldn’t have been them, they don’t take credit cards, one was a discontinued phone number and the other one had a full mailbox and couldn’t take any more messages. Hmm, strange… I know that I didn’t take a hop over to Pistakee Heights, NY and get something printed, but someone used my debit card there and I don’t appreciate it. I don’t know how to snap out of this funk I am in, I’m short with the kids, cranky and downright down. I feel like smashing something! When we were in SC, I lost the page that I photocopied from home that had all my passwords a...

Just today in the mail I received a treasure I thought I would never get. I had held out hope for years that it would come, but it never did. I had given up and turned toward other ventures, forgetting that I had started something nearly 20 years ago. Today was the beginning of the gift I had read that other mothers often receive. The gift is this, “…her children will rise up and call her blessed.” In the mail was a Mother’s Day note from my 19 year old son, a tribute to his mother. Here is what he thinks of his mom. (In his own words, complete with spelling errors, apparently I didn’t do too well in the spelling-teacher department.) “A mom is: A friend, companion, cradle rocker, hug giver, cooky baker, girl scout leader, business woman, band-aid giver, guardian, listener of stories, songs and dreams; nurse, doctor, maker of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, spilt milk wiper-upper, hair braider, molder of personalities, chief chef, laundry service, teacher, coach, play mate, wiper of...

Just a picture…because I have a serious fabric addiction and company coming to stay this weekend and this is the guest bed.

Today Bear walked with Robby out to put some stuff in the truck after church, it was high noon and the bells in the bell tower started ringing. Bear asked Robby, "What was that?" He replied in his all-knowing 4 year old voice, "It's an ice cream truck, Daddy!" Um, no, not exactly.

Sincerely 'fro me to you and Vintage Thingies Thursday ! Kristen over at We are THAT family has a blogging carnival going on Thursdays, and she asked for bloggers to share a story from our past, something that won't probably make it into a scrapbook because we can't find our crinkle-cut scizzors or some mouse peed on the pictures or whatever reason. Apron Queen also has a carnival goin on called Vintage Thingies Thursday, I thought since I am so good at multi-tasking, I'd roll two posts into one and call this story both; an embarrassing story from my past as well as vintage. Now if you think that those bangs aren't vintage, and that, "Oh My! Would you look at that zipper!" I don't know what is! So, this is my story... Fall 1978, it was the beginning of my modeling “career.” It all began at the Western Idaho Fair, on the exhibitor’s building main stage, or rather behind the main stage. There I was waiting for an absolutely dreamy Junior Future Farmers...

We've been working on prayers and manners at our house. Asking the blessing on the food and remembering those who are hurting in our family; and also remembering to ask to be excused from the table, removing your own plate, etc. Last night at dinner Ace remembered. He had asked the blessing on the food before dinner, and when he was finished with his dinner this was his response, (I think directed at me,) "Dear God, thank you for this food, may I be excused?" Maybe we should work on only one thing at a time?

Found on sidewalk: one purple gellpen. Obviously abandoned and in need of of a good owner to care for, use and to cherish. New owners found, two girls, one writ-ey, one draw-y. New dilemma, how to share one 3-inch purple gellpen? Gellpen confiscated. Sigh...