tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-90977189336046435952024-02-07T19:57:50.041-06:00mrs. frakesAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270050784825754861noreply@blogger.comBlogger54125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097718933604643595.post-758562953450968632017-06-27T16:51:00.001-05:002017-06-27T21:47:53.665-05:00NYC Day 2I love sleep. I mean, I LOVE sleep. I covet sleep, I crave sleep, and I sleep as much and as often as I can. So when it came to busy days in NYC, I vowed to sleep in. We knew ahead of time we would be exhausted every day, so we decided early morning appointments wouldn't work for us. #wise<br />
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So on Day 2 we eventually (mid to late morning) made our way down to the Chelsea District and jumped on the High Line. This is a cool deal because #1 it's FREE and #2 it's iconic! The High Line is an old train track that was converted to a garden sanctuary above the city. It weaves through Chelsea, near the Hudson River and has some amazing views along the way. Plus, in parts, you can stare into the windows of crazy awesome apartments that you'll wish you lived in. I mean, I was ready to sign a lease by the time the High Line came to an end.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is how they have to park cars in NYC.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the end of the line, so to speak.</td></tr>
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When you get off the High Line, you're sort of kicked into the Chelsea Market which is in itself an awesome place. Add it to your list. It won't disappoint. We ate lunch there and thoroughly enjoyed Creamline, a farm to table fast food restaurant! GET THE CHICKEN SANDWICH and there will be a party in your mouth.<br />
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From there, you're just a hop, skip, and a jump down the block from Greenwich Village. Toodle around! You'll love that area too.<br />
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At this point, we started walking a crazy amount of miles, making our way to NoLita (which is code for North of Little Italy), Soho (which is short for south of Houston, a street in NYC), and Chinatown. Be careful in Chinatown. It's all kinds of shady. A giant Jamaican and a tiny Chinese woman were grabbing my arms and fighting over me in the street. Technically in a McDonald's on the street. Either way, it was frightening. So do Chinatown at your own risk.<br />
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One last stop we made was the Flat Iron building which is in the aptly named Flat Iron District. Ha!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Have you ever seen this in photos? It's trippy to see in person. There's an actual cell phone store (AT&T? Verizon?) located on the bottom floor and you can stare straight through the building. Seems to me there would be a better business to lease that space... but I'm clearly not in charge.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pictures of the building are hard y'all. Don't judge.</td></tr>
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About this time we walked as far south as we could stand and grabbed an UBER for Brooklyn. We chose Juliana's for dinner, which is next door to the famous Grimaldi's. I'm sure both are great, but the story goes that after a family fued, Juliana Grimaldi opened her own pizza/pasta shop NEXT DOOR to the original Grimaldi's. Some reviews on the internet tell you that Grimaldi's is for tourists because it's better known, and Juliana's is for locals. Hmmm. We chose the locals' side in this fight and didn't regret it one bit.<br />
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Now, the benefit of either of these restaurants is what's not even on the menu. It's the Brooklyn Promenade that lies just past them, by the water. You can take the MOST STUNNING PHOTOS of the Manhattan skyline at dusk here, and we stuck around til it was dark. SO AMAZING. Put this adventure on your list RIGHT NOW. I'll get my hug from you later.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was right after dinner. Perfect timing!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is a picture my husband actually took on his CELL PHONE. Amazing views are easy to capture, what can he say?</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can even see the Statue of Liberty from here! </td></tr>
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Our day didn't end here, though. We had switched hotels due to an (ahem!) INCIDENT and ended up in the Fairfield Inn near Madison Square Garden.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXsz7QkkbzbCgPZdaphpiPR37zPZx05jTjlCYFUPf-ek3N4l273u3UtTsb2gWRlBqCcLGmmboNjyHPRgk3VWVJ3MHLpZ88mzf3_RR8xurHyxCcKlV-gQAcOpqekhG6zXnEIkA4QPZfcXg/s1600/IMG_4036.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXsz7QkkbzbCgPZdaphpiPR37zPZx05jTjlCYFUPf-ek3N4l273u3UtTsb2gWRlBqCcLGmmboNjyHPRgk3VWVJ3MHLpZ88mzf3_RR8xurHyxCcKlV-gQAcOpqekhG6zXnEIkA4QPZfcXg/s320/IMG_4036.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">EWWWWWW!!!!!</td></tr>
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I'm SO GLAD we did. The rooftop bar had EPIC views as well and it was a great way to end our first full day.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnVMiTFx7T326OKJoxrt7FXuYp-nuiixnlNBBhurBdpMElTj3YFXZ-W-TexAwA_SqRgqJL1rydTLL6H8cDzpF7iN6BR8ESkcqtbixUFWWCQwDnMBhDGOqpPElGuA1AAeZlnCfh7kumSm8/s1600/DSC_0193.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnVMiTFx7T326OKJoxrt7FXuYp-nuiixnlNBBhurBdpMElTj3YFXZ-W-TexAwA_SqRgqJL1rydTLL6H8cDzpF7iN6BR8ESkcqtbixUFWWCQwDnMBhDGOqpPElGuA1AAeZlnCfh7kumSm8/s640/DSC_0193.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That's Madison Square Garden!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji1x4i4TtDynMQLvBP79-ZMoRRqHb3rNuK5_TKOtsKxM3wEIF6MhXkcQINrnOZgHSZhqBdKGNSI46Tnfo9UYuzFjjjGVN7Z5v85NPA614fPV01UD1YFxdXw-lXjTU2AKMdf6mDc7LWvlM/s1600/DSC_0199.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji1x4i4TtDynMQLvBP79-ZMoRRqHb3rNuK5_TKOtsKxM3wEIF6MhXkcQINrnOZgHSZhqBdKGNSI46Tnfo9UYuzFjjjGVN7Z5v85NPA614fPV01UD1YFxdXw-lXjTU2AKMdf6mDc7LWvlM/s640/DSC_0199.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Besties</td></tr>
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And off to bed we went... to sleep as long as we wanted. Ahhhhh.....<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Day 3 Coming soon!</i></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270050784825754861noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097718933604643595.post-68521542182007032972017-06-25T11:39:00.000-05:002017-06-25T11:39:17.210-05:00NYC Day 1If you read my last post about how to vacation using Post It notes, you know that we recently visited NYC. Many people ask me: If you could choose your top three favorite things, what are they? Well that's a very hard question to answer because there are so many categories of favorite in New York City. So I thought I would map our week out for you, so you'd get a feel for what to do and a couple tips and tricks along the way. Okay? Okay.<br />
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First of all, when we get to town, we hit the ground running. No need to waste precious moments in the city that doesn't sleep! So I call the afternoon we arrived <i>Day 1</i>. You will be shocked and awed at how much we could do in a late afternoon and evening.<br />
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<i>Day 1</i>: We arrived by plane around 1:30 pm, which by the way, if you're looking for tips, is the best time to arrive in an NYC airport (there are 2). (Anytime after 3:00 p.m. arrivals lend to increased traffic and a bigger taxi bill to get to your hotel. So you know.) (Tip #2 while we're at it, we wore cute clothes on the plane so we wouldn't have to change and shower when we got there.)<br />
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We checked into our hotel and <i>we were starving</i>. So once the bags were dropped, we hit the streets to find pizza! Across the street was Patzeria, a ridiculously yummy pizza place with 6 chairs to seat people against a wall. Since those chairs were taken, we ate our pizza on the street. Hey, when in Rome!<br />
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When our bellies were full, we skipped on over to Times Square to see allthepeople. And the famous red staircase! Which leads to nowhere. It's just a staircase. In the middle of Times Square. So, whatever. Take a picture! You've arrived!<br />
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Next, we started walking quickly, because <i>appointments</i>. We zipped over to Sugar where the kids ordered a giant fishbowl drink that cost $30. But it bubbled! And tasted yummy (allegedly)! No problem, it wasn't on my tab. (insert toothy grin here.)<br />
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From there we made our way all the way to Central Park on foot and then caught our Pedicabs. These two guys took us through Central Park and did all the legwork (pun intended). It was fun! It was glorious! It was quintessential New York. <i>A must do </i>and not ridiculously expensive. Check Groupon!<br />
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You can see that although we were at Central Park, at one point we had to enter traffic. AGGHHH!!<br />
Of course we didn't sustain any injuries, and in the end we got a picture for the ages. If only those cute tourists behind us had been out of the way....<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOD2nLay6f250br1WAYIF1d2rwXpVeavNT_iGUS87fxNKrXPbc_fawLBmBqJDe4sSz0TXKxNaKnkLHCT9944Fbdaoori09DDGll7ChV5iUdGbyfhvD_-BXxg4jfEE-Hm_hoCSIZd33lpQ/s1600/IMG_4020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOD2nLay6f250br1WAYIF1d2rwXpVeavNT_iGUS87fxNKrXPbc_fawLBmBqJDe4sSz0TXKxNaKnkLHCT9944Fbdaoori09DDGll7ChV5iUdGbyfhvD_-BXxg4jfEE-Hm_hoCSIZd33lpQ/s640/IMG_4020.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">By now you may be wondering who that cute blonde that looks like she could be related to us is. That's Abby's bff and my bonus daughter, Jeni. She kindly came along for our reindeer games in NYC and never complained once. I can't say the same for my children.</td></tr>
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So the funny Pedicab guys dropped us off near the subway and we hopped on, bound for Harlem. HARLEM AT NIGHT, you say? Or is it just my dad who said that? Either way, yes, we subwayed up and stepped into the light of day in a place not so scary at all. I loved Harlem! <br />
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Amateur Night at the Apollo is AWESOME, y'all. I highly recommend this fun show! <br />
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So to end the day, we UBERed back to Times Square (near our first hotel, but that's another story for another day). UBER is your friend in NYC. And to be honest, we were brave enough to take a subway to Harlem in the daytime hours, but not after dark.<br />
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We ended the night with Wafels and Dinges (pronounced waffles and deen ges). If you stumble upon one of these in the city, RUN, do not walk. You'll never regret it.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuI81ZjD3EETR5xLfEfo01BtQudxPOXYYQCA5OXzO1OZzGRb4-0iX1zwP53vxLQfwDTks2gqextkHg_52752DmkgJdRI2-JVPXjj2pCIsBumuOS6yER2oS-ldrP3fe47SPAbqiaGxIiMI/s1600/IMG_4035.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuI81ZjD3EETR5xLfEfo01BtQudxPOXYYQCA5OXzO1OZzGRb4-0iX1zwP53vxLQfwDTks2gqextkHg_52752DmkgJdRI2-JVPXjj2pCIsBumuOS6yER2oS-ldrP3fe47SPAbqiaGxIiMI/s400/IMG_4035.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This wafel has the following dinges' (toppings): warm nutella and strawberries, sprinkled with powdered sugar. <i>HEAVEN</i>.</td></tr>
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<i>Day 2 coming soon!</i></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270050784825754861noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097718933604643595.post-80248016216678404072017-06-23T18:48:00.002-05:002017-06-23T18:50:15.866-05:00How to take a vacation with Post It NotesWe took some epic vacations when I was a kid. I'm talkin' two week road trips to the east or west coast (equal distances from my landlocked home in Oklahoma). Dad would plan the whole thing without the use of any stinkin' internet to guide him and our meals came mostly from the cooler that took up half the backseat or fast food along the way. This is how I learned an extreme distaste for anything at McDonald's before 10:30 am. The smell in our Buick Skylark was nauseating. I begged to roll down the windows, but on we rolled to our multiple destinations. Dad would whip out his trusty map and we would hit the road.<br />
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Road trips in the 1970's and 80's were the best.<br />
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Today, we take our kids on trips, too. But ours are different. While we fly to some locations (Hawaii, New York, Florida), we like to take a good old fashioned road trip too. We pack snacks but avoid childhood roadtrip foods like soggy pre-made sandwiches and fruit in a cooler. Instead, we plan to stop and eat. This is not the most cost efficient, but it allows us to stretch our legs and see what we can see along the way.<br />
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This blog post is not about a roadtrip, but it <i>is</i> about an epic adventure. One that was planned and curated the <i>new-fashioned</i> way... jumping many hours down the internet rabbit hole. I'd like to say that these things can be easily done in an afternoon. But unless there's an app I've never heard of, this takes time. And paper. Specifically Post It Note paper.<br />
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Behold our trip to New York City.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuBlyzV6OeU4tV4yV6izLCbh_4fEWNdPNaiWrkwisRPGdvDCTAFtAk16JyS33K1tawGPnZmvW5NtJPhVN3Ja-46tOJ4nt4RNbUW2DSollBhiB1x7TncOZBEbqmizX32s40u8vt2ooeRVI/s1600/IMG_4589+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuBlyzV6OeU4tV4yV6izLCbh_4fEWNdPNaiWrkwisRPGdvDCTAFtAk16JyS33K1tawGPnZmvW5NtJPhVN3Ja-46tOJ4nt4RNbUW2DSollBhiB1x7TncOZBEbqmizX32s40u8vt2ooeRVI/s640/IMG_4589+%25282%2529.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Isn't it dreamy?? This makes my OCD sooo happy.</td></tr>
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Now, let me start with saying this: everyone has different things they want to do and see in NYC. Some of my friends go purely for the shopping and celebrity sightings. Some go for the tourist-y stuff. Others look for places that are off the beaten path. This itinerary is a mixture of all these things.<br />
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Here are my tips for creating your own vacation planning board.<br />
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1. <b>Gather your supplies.</b> Get a poster or paper in close size. Grab sticky notes of 3 colors and a sharpie. Now you're ready.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIoFmnTwMmxYjY0-vWzE00sdijfNqVD20it3AkmOM5zvEN5t0mHQIn3hjlPKpHRjEEHJbky5fmyzqG00LdMc0Ct_GY8jO21PcMu_nL4Or5-ZQts2WvICmErDKEsC5-uCYn6LD7ZAJf-xA/s1600/IMG_4590.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIoFmnTwMmxYjY0-vWzE00sdijfNqVD20it3AkmOM5zvEN5t0mHQIn3hjlPKpHRjEEHJbky5fmyzqG00LdMc0Ct_GY8jO21PcMu_nL4Or5-ZQts2WvICmErDKEsC5-uCYn6LD7ZAJf-xA/s400/IMG_4590.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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*<i>Side note</i>: For NYC, we used two large papers. The first was to divide the city into districts, the other to divide the days.<br />
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2. <b>Discuss your ideas.</b> We started by sitting down the whole family and asking what they most wanted to see or do. Each person could add their ideas to a sticky note and put it on the board under the district where it is located. Ideas that were agreed on by at least 3 of us had a definite place on the board. If only one person wanted to do something, they were overruled and not placed on the final date map.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha1Uz06cy6mgsmsu65u4Yp6SB71O0L0ztG3xbZ984MXpUk8a0BJmCdDbQdiZ1Ajjw12ELX8KCpICbxqC0dYRrTR_au8a9QJUc-C6YgV1B3ih3mCfwEc4iijEzXHk4xJiA5KZSlrmYXB4g/s1600/IMG_4588.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha1Uz06cy6mgsmsu65u4Yp6SB71O0L0ztG3xbZ984MXpUk8a0BJmCdDbQdiZ1Ajjw12ELX8KCpICbxqC0dYRrTR_au8a9QJUc-C6YgV1B3ih3mCfwEc4iijEzXHk4xJiA5KZSlrmYXB4g/s320/IMG_4588.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These are the remnants of our planning. They got the boot.</td></tr>
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3. <b>Color Code.</b> Use one color sticky note for restaurants, one for activities, and one for destinations that have a reservation. The hubs loves food. Almost more than he loves me. So he spent lots of time just scouring Trip Adviser for recommendations on great restaurants. I loved seeing destinations: Radio City Music Hall, Central Park, and the Today Show. Those are fun things that don't cost money and can be photographed and left in the rear view mirror. Activities were my kids' things. We took a pedicab tour of Central Park that ended up being their favorite thing all week. We also did a gondola ride from the Loeb Boathouse which was quintessential New York (That was my favorite).<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw92fg-Ss69OVbLBAvHs3J8TTdjYv0W0Ysf8gyLDjRG97-7Y_8-tAmaqOjxnTfK4hFinKEkulzjDsylnyNaj4Rwg3IEpdoL2nexULgJxfSUvU49vBMTn9hgjQyBkyRCgQ4-aKts3Y5zUw/s1600/IMG_4333.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw92fg-Ss69OVbLBAvHs3J8TTdjYv0W0Ysf8gyLDjRG97-7Y_8-tAmaqOjxnTfK4hFinKEkulzjDsylnyNaj4Rwg3IEpdoL2nexULgJxfSUvU49vBMTn9hgjQyBkyRCgQ4-aKts3Y5zUw/s400/IMG_4333.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hubs wanted to sleep so we took an uber at 5:15 am JUST TO SEE Matt Lauer and he wasn't even there that day. :(</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS1sUa_OZoa0K2PkgNZQBvIfNIK-X5_lgWMwKezpsn39kpckoUgHjLm93uqIT8cXXpEnfONTWow0OclteAwXyT8NCP_hJl5awgvZf_bUkPlhtpfOsj3WzeGiIKlkaLt4jTMD26nKl-rac/s1600/IMG_4338.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS1sUa_OZoa0K2PkgNZQBvIfNIK-X5_lgWMwKezpsn39kpckoUgHjLm93uqIT8cXXpEnfONTWow0OclteAwXyT8NCP_hJl5awgvZf_bUkPlhtpfOsj3WzeGiIKlkaLt4jTMD26nKl-rac/s400/IMG_4338.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Haven't you always thought Al would be a great guy to bring to your party? He was as sweet and jovial as I imagined, even pausing when my finger malfunctioned on the selfie button and it took a few seconds for me to figure that out. Ha!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJPNtegepfSnmsm2jiBmDzCKW-W9gfWJxieWs8PGskCEttfSL4Z5JtLqwKBuBSo3luJdj3JohdghjSW9882rS4z_iMIdCE7Inp5043o_6nBdgroo48QTMuygxRv_-A0JOQnWYjNGeEotE/s1600/IMG_4392.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJPNtegepfSnmsm2jiBmDzCKW-W9gfWJxieWs8PGskCEttfSL4Z5JtLqwKBuBSo3luJdj3JohdghjSW9882rS4z_iMIdCE7Inp5043o_6nBdgroo48QTMuygxRv_-A0JOQnWYjNGeEotE/s640/IMG_4392.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was the gondola ride from the Loeb Boathouse in Central Park. It took planes trains and automobiles to get us there with all our high heels and such. But it was OH SO WORTH IT.</td></tr>
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3. <b>Make a plan</b>. Once we knew how many ideas were in each area of the city, we started placing them on days together. We stayed in Midtown so if we were headed to the Financial District, then we might throw in Battery Park while we were down that way. Maps and Pinterest are your friends! Click <a href="https://www.pinterest.com/kimfrakes/nyc/" target="_blank">here</a> for my personal NYC board. Consider leaving the last day open. #5 will explain this more.<br />
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4. <b>Take it with you!</b> Many people ask me how I remembered all of our plans once we got there. Are you kidding? I lost too many brain cells having children. I can't remember anything. So of course we folded that baby up and took her along on our adventure! In Hawaii we taped it to the wall of our room, but in NYC we simply laid it out on the desk in the room. <br />
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5. <b>Sticky Notes are Moveable.</b> Every day we looked at what we had accomplished on the list and moved our Post Its around. If we had skipped or missed something, we would move it according to our interest. Somethings got skipped altogether. But others got moved to the final day.<br />
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6. <b>Keep the mindset- everything is negotiable.</b> You may not get to go to the Brooklyn Flea. And it's ok! (I mean, that's what they tried to tell me when they all ix-nayed my plan.) We walked 50 miles in NYC this last time. <i>That's a lot of freaking walking! </i>Some days you may plan it all and need to abort your mission to take a nap in the room. And that's ok! You may run out of money at the end of your trip and need to eat pizza instead of steak. And that's ok too!<br />
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Just remember that vacations are meant to be fun. But if you fail to plan, you'll plan to fail. We want to see as much as we can when we visit a cool location. If you'd rather sit in the room and listen to the traffic below, do it! But if you want to experience all that a new place has to offer, try this technique. You'll thank me later.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaoYpucsJ7_whRr69R1Y_8QLh2lZChsZcvxfbDmk59Q4Rj-foLFafIJ4HvQBsnkGZT7LwIvy5IrHksz-vXZKVigHFVf-fFgiFw_h6HjzPBSPV6Icuxs7sR2I_pHjtg2ZnZaJBjH50wjwA/s1600/DSC_0066.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaoYpucsJ7_whRr69R1Y_8QLh2lZChsZcvxfbDmk59Q4Rj-foLFafIJ4HvQBsnkGZT7LwIvy5IrHksz-vXZKVigHFVf-fFgiFw_h6HjzPBSPV6Icuxs7sR2I_pHjtg2ZnZaJBjH50wjwA/s640/DSC_0066.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Central Park, I love you in the summer.</td></tr>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270050784825754861noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097718933604643595.post-19098513002970276352016-08-24T11:03:00.001-05:002016-08-24T11:03:32.374-05:00Falling FreeIt's funny how the heart begins to change, little by little, as we read, talk, and share ideas.<br />
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Recently I threw my name in the hat for a Book Launch Team. I'd never done this before, but I love to read, so I applied and was super excited to be accepted to the team. The book came in the form of a pdf, which proved slightly challenging, but I was no less excited to soak in the words of this awesome writer.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNndaac4GpohxBaJXPqczacKheFMQ8z8UzxbC4y8eEKrh0BH929s8m-9JozlBlFvBHTZZBCiGgC5rrw2DlWrT0YOyBgh3QjJ1eVm7AQtAq_5KSpmqdpSKQfCV47VzX6NXPMxCC2gimCts/s1600/IMG_0744.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNndaac4GpohxBaJXPqczacKheFMQ8z8UzxbC4y8eEKrh0BH929s8m-9JozlBlFvBHTZZBCiGgC5rrw2DlWrT0YOyBgh3QjJ1eVm7AQtAq_5KSpmqdpSKQfCV47VzX6NXPMxCC2gimCts/s400/IMG_0744.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Shannan Martin lives in Indiana. She's a mama and a wife, a blogger and an instagrammer, and she is living a life that most of us would only cringe to dream about. She left everything behind in the countryside, where she started her popular blog <a href="http://flowerpatchfarmgirl.com/">flowerpatchfarmgirl.com</a> and moved to the inner city. She and her husband put their money where their mouths were and trusted God with EVERYTHING... Their money, their future, their children, their safety, their very lives. And <u><i><a href="http://www.fallingfreebook.com/" target="_blank">Falling Free</a></i></u> is the story of how it all came to pass.<br />
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I won't give anything away here, but let me assure you, LOVE WINS. In the biggest and most God-sized way possible. You will <i>love</i> her heart for those with less. Take a look at this example that blew my mind...<br />
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I had never heard it put in that way before. Can you imagine if we all stepped out, opened our eyes and hands, and poured into the people out there that need our capital? </div>
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A few years ago, I ran into an old student at a sporting event. He's in high school now, but I had him as a fourth grader. I've never known why, but God has placed this child on my heart... to the point that I would literally take him in and make him my son to this day. My whole family knows this, and they've all agreed that when and if that day comes, he will be ours. No questions asked. <a href="http://39isthenew40.blogspot.com/2013/09/k.html" target="_blank">Here's his story</a>.</div>
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Since reading this book, I've been thinking about this kid specifically. I've been praying for him with abandon. And my heart is opening up to where God is leading me with this new paradigm. I'm thankful Shannan put her words to a page, because all the people on this launch team share about the many ways their hearts are shifting and opening. And community is so important.</div>
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The other part of her book that has shaken me to my core, is this next blurb. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg28PLw-IcnnbydmInBNOOt-VyxjQP_kZIHuj90wkG1wb3pxNdJWTNAuR8N5OJ1AAEBE1QToZAlMX5-H4-FSCAlhVtyWPsD1y1oEwLg-BT8c9Yez1rJ2jyUnIshHd-ZL0sc2Ns-zwOPaf0/s1600/IMG_0741.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg28PLw-IcnnbydmInBNOOt-VyxjQP_kZIHuj90wkG1wb3pxNdJWTNAuR8N5OJ1AAEBE1QToZAlMX5-H4-FSCAlhVtyWPsD1y1oEwLg-BT8c9Yez1rJ2jyUnIshHd-ZL0sc2Ns-zwOPaf0/s400/IMG_0741.PNG" width="400" /></a></div>
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AMEN! Right? How often are you comforted with the story of another person? For me, hearing the healing from hurts that can cripple a soul have allowed me to find freedom in the forgiveness of my own sin. I love the times that God prompts my heart to share my story with people who not once, but EVERY time, have replied with tears that they have the same story to tell. We find that moving beyond pain is the realization that there is no shame in sins that are forgiven! Once God wipes our slate clean, there is nothing that can hold us in darkness any longer except Satan telling us that we should live in shame. Sharing your story breaks your stronghold, friend. Don't allow the enemy to hold you in bondage anymore!</div>
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Anyway, back to Shannan! hehe!</div>
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Dear Reader, please consider <a href="http://www.fallingfreebook.com/" target="_blank">buying this book</a>. It will open your eyes in the most wonderful ways and you won't be able to stop telling people about it. Just ask me. ;)</div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270050784825754861noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097718933604643595.post-10510023901624936752016-05-24T11:08:00.004-05:002016-05-24T11:08:53.329-05:00modern-day miracles<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Her husband had unceremoniously moved out the day before. It was her first day as a single parent and she was trying to find joy in the small things. The kids had gone to visit their dad at his new home, but she still had a nagging feeling. Earlier in the day, my friend Melinda, had picked up a pregnancy test.<br />
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Now, I know what you're thinking if you read my last post. OHMYGOSH NO. I had the same reaction, albeit a little more cussy. <br />
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She wondered how in the world she would be able to raise not just <i>four</i> children, but a <i>newborn</i> as well? All alone?? <i>How God? I never even wanted five kids! </i><br />
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<i>And yet...</i><br />
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That night, we had dinner together with some friends and when I dropped Melinda off at her house, I could tell something was off. She was distracted all evening. Not herself. OF COURSE, BECAUSE SHE IS PREGNANT AND DIDN'T KNOW HOW TO BLURT THAT OUT. So when she got back to the house, her husband was there, with the kids. He got up to leave and she followed him to the car. He was headed back to his new reality. His new home. And that's when she told him.<br />
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There are many personal details here, dear reader, that are not mine to tell. In fact, I'm not even privy to the moments Melinda's husband spent with God that night. But let's say this....<br />
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That night, alone in his new home, Melinda's husband had a divine appointment with the Creator. God spoke truth into him that he hasn't heard from anyone on this earth. And for the first time in months, Melinda's husband got the message loud and clear. "My will, not yours be done."<br />
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So after a restless night of sleep, he awoke, called his lawyer and cancelled the divorce. He called his wife and asked to come home. He was the Prodigal Son, coming home, to the arms of a wife who never lost hope, never stopped praying, never gave up on the husband she vowed to love through thick and thin. <br />
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I cried tears of joy to hear this news and then I was taken back to my last blog post. How did it end? I'll remind you. Mind you, this was the day before he moved out. I asked you this:<br />
"I would covet your prayers for Melinda. For her 4 children. And especially for her husband, who has lost his way. It is never too late to right a wrong. Will you believe with me? Amen."<br />
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I hope it's not lost on YOU (You, who prayed for Melinda. You, who prayed for this family. You who prayed for her husband) that YOUR PRAYERS repaired a marriage. Your prayers moved mountains for my friend, her children, and especially for her husband who needed us to stand in the gap for him.<br />
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I especially love that none of this was a surprise to God. He knew all along that in the silence, He was still moving. We couldn't see it, but He was at work! He never stopped interceding on behalf of these precious people I call friends. <br />
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If you don't know the power of pray and a mighty God who still does miracles, please seek out someone who does. Call me. Call a friend who loves Jesus. We would love nothing more than to point you to the cross.<br />
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And all the people said AMEN!<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270050784825754861noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097718933604643595.post-6634615711188773632016-05-20T22:19:00.000-05:002016-05-20T22:24:15.355-05:00Where is God?"Where is God?" my friend asked.<br />
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I'll never forget this moment. I was standing in my closet while one of my dearest friends told me her husband was leaving. He has decided their marriage has "run it's course" and he's moving out. Leaving his adoring wife and four small children in the wake of his selfishness.<br />
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My friend, we'll call Melinda, has been married 12 years. She has four precious children. She has shown her husband the kind of unconditional love that many people will never know in their lifetime. She is the quintessential homemaker. Melinda makes home cooked meals, sews, bakes, keeps an extremely clean home, and feeds her family organic food. She is thrifty in a super cool kind of way, and watches all of her pennies. Melinda is not only an amazing wife, she's probably better at this wife-ing thing than I am. In fact, if I were one of those sister-wife kind of cult members, I'd totally make her wife #2. I think the world of Melinda.<br />
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But yesterday when she told me that her husband had sat the kids down to break the news, I cried. "Where is God?" she asked. "Why didn't he answer my prayers? This isn't fair!"<br />
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As I stood there, staring at the wall, I asked the same thing. "God! Help me! I have no words! She needs to know where you are! Help me help her!" And yet, my tongue was still. I had no answer. All I could do was sit down on the floor and cry with her. My heart ached while I wondered, how do I show my friend that God is still there in the midst of our deepest suffering?<br />
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<i>I felt God stirring in me. BE STILL, Kim. You don't have to have words for everything.</i><br />
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And yet....<br />
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I have allowed this question to stir in my mind for a day now. I've thought of Melinda and her children, and even her lost husband, and prayed. I've wondered why God didn't change his heart. Why didn't He open her husband's eyes? Why didn't he place someone in this man's path that could speak the truth to him in love?<br />
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Tonight I was brought back to a song by Lauren Daigle. I was singing along without thinking at first, but then I really listened to the song when I heard this:<br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "arial"; font-size: 13.4px; line-height: 19.1429px; text-align: center;">When You don’t move the mountains I’m needing You to move</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13.4px; line-height: 19.1429px; text-align: center;" /><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "arial"; font-size: 13.4px; line-height: 19.1429px; text-align: center;">When You don’t part the waters I wish I could walk through</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13.4px; line-height: 19.1429px; text-align: center;" /><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "arial"; font-size: 13.4px; line-height: 19.1429px; text-align: center;">When You don’t give the answers as I cry out to You</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13.4px; line-height: 19.1429px; text-align: center;" /><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "arial"; font-size: 13.4px; line-height: 19.1429px; text-align: center;">I will trust, I will trust, I will trust in You!</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13.4px; line-height: 19.1429px; text-align: center;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13.4px; line-height: 19.1429px; text-align: center;" /><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "arial"; font-size: 13.4px; line-height: 19.1429px; text-align: center;">You are my strength and comfort</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13.4px; line-height: 19.1429px; text-align: center;" /><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "arial"; font-size: 13.4px; line-height: 19.1429px; text-align: center;">You are my steady hand</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13.4px; line-height: 19.1429px; text-align: center;" /><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "arial"; font-size: 13.4px; line-height: 19.1429px; text-align: center;">You are my firm foundation; the rock on which I stand</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13.4px; line-height: 19.1429px; text-align: center;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13.4px; line-height: 19.1429px; text-align: center;" /><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "arial"; font-size: 13.4px; line-height: 19.1429px; text-align: center;">Your ways are always higher</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13.4px; line-height: 19.1429px; text-align: center;" /><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "arial"; font-size: 13.4px; line-height: 19.1429px; text-align: center;">Your plans are always good</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13.4px; line-height: 19.1429px; text-align: center;" /><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "arial"; font-size: 13.4px; line-height: 19.1429px; text-align: center;">There’s not a place where I’ll go, You’ve not already stood</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "arial"; font-size: 13.4px; line-height: 19.1429px; text-align: center;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And that's when I realized. I won't have all the answers to why bad things happen to good people on this side of heaven. But I can <i>trust</i> that when God says He's gone before me, before my friend Melinda, He has already paved the way. There are no surprises here to Him. He knew my friend would feel this pain. He knew her kids would be devastated. But HE promises to make beauty from ashes. HE promises to show her the unconditional love that she has given away but not received. HE promises that her pain is not forgotten, not without use, and not permanent. HE will give her <i>new</i> blessings. HE will give her <i>new</i> hope. And HE will surround her with just the right people at just the right time. All we have to do is <i>trust</i>. Trust that He is who He says He is and He will do what He says He will do, as Beth Moore once said.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I believe firmly that God protects the orphans and widows, as He says in the Bible. But I also think the single mamas are in there, too. And I have a HUGE heart for those single mamas. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I would covet your prayers for Melinda. For her 4 children. And especially for her husband, who has lost his way. It is never too late to right a wrong. Will you believe with me? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Amen.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270050784825754861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097718933604643595.post-55953392323335640982016-05-15T18:31:00.001-05:002016-05-16T07:01:01.861-05:00pink chairs and soft heartsWell hello there! Have you missed me? I've been busy. Planning a fair, throwing Gatherings, and of course teaching the loveliest group of second graders you've ever known. It's been a fun and busy year and my blogging has taken the hit. <br />
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I've thought of funny stories along the way to share, but haven't had the time or inclination to type them out. Until today.</div>
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You know we bought this new house last year. It's been over a year now in our latest home and we've settled in so happily. We used most of what we already had to decorate and finish it out but have slowly changed things out as time and money have allowed.</div>
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Right now we're in the throws of redoing our little Buddy's room. When we moved in, he had a green room and bunkbeds. Well, that's just what he had at the last house, so we figured we could throw him in there swiftly and easily. He wasn't thrilled as his big sister had gotten a redesigned "middle school girl" room and he was entering middle school, waiting for his turn at "the dream bedroom". He'd have to wait, as there were vacations and holidays and sports, oh my. And then.... well... we just forgot. So now, we're moving things out and moving things in. We're painting and building and conspiring. And it's going to be great. Very "big boy". Very "this room will take you into college" - like. Hopefully.</div>
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But then, my Mother-in-Law came over recently and made me the loveliest curtains for my formal dining room. Suddenly, those red parsons chairs at the table were craptastic. I needed to replace them. And soon. Along with finding time to paint that table white. (It never ends, right?)</div>
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<i>Man, that's crappy lighting.</i></div>
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Yesterday, MIL told me about some chairs on sale at Steinmart, so I headed on over there to check them out of course. The Mister and my little Buddy were in tow. So when we walked in the door and I saw the <strike>pink</strike> coral dining chairs sitting inside the front door by the cash register, I stopped in my tracks. CORAL DINING CHAIRS? COULD IT BE? The thoughts started swirling in my head. OH THE BEAUTY. OH THE FUN. I MUST HAVE THESE CHAIRS.</div>
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<i>Don't they look darling with my new curtains??</i></div>
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Luckily, as I turned to look at the Mister, he agreed! WHA the WHA?? REALLY?? Then let's go find 4 more, I said, and we took off for the back corner of the store. </div>
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Unfortunately, all we found was one more chair. But that would not deter me. No-siree! I grabbed that chair and started heading back to the front. And that's when my son, in all his wisdom turned to his dad and said, "Dad. Why are you letting her carry that pink chair? It makes her look like a feminist. Take the chair and carry it for her!"</div>
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Y'all. I AM DOING SOMETHING RIGHT. Because A. I didn't have to carry that pink (okay, coral) chair an inch further. And B. because my son is learning to respect his elders and women. <i>Thank you Jesus.</i></div>
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<i>The coolest kid with the kindest heart. Seen here in Hawaii. ;)</i></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270050784825754861noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097718933604643595.post-61558183564140339872016-03-06T15:01:00.001-06:002016-03-06T15:01:41.505-06:00i am a walmart mom.I had <i>a moment</i> today.<br />
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We are only days away from leaving for a big trip. We needed snacks and travel sized everythings. So the whole fam damily loaded up and headed to the Super Walmart.<br />
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While there, every. single. person. in my family was vying for the products they believed they <i>needed</i> to add to the cart. Things like pringles and body spray and selfie sticks. The cart was filling fast with tiny things.<br />
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And then my daughter piped up. She needed new shoes.<br />
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Why?<br />
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Because when we go hiking, she wasn't willing to wear her chacos. Her ridiculously priced and <i>previously purchased</i> chacos. You know, the ones we were planning for her to wear the whole time. <br />
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Again, why?<br />
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Because, like, last year when we bought them (for her birthday), she, like, bought them a little off in size. Like, she bought them thinking, like, they would fit a little better. But, like, they fit <i>exactly</i>, and like, not even a little too big.<br />
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Are you hearing what I'm hearing? Wait, they fit, and that's a <i>problem</i>? Well then why didn't we buy them to <i>not fit</i>? And when did I become the adult making fun of the teenager saying <b>like</b> all the time? <i>I used to be her!</i><br />
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No, <i>MOM</i>. <i>Ugh,</i> you just don't understand.<br />
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{meanwhile, over my right shoulder...}<br />
Mom. Mooom. MOM! <tap tap tap> Mom! Moooooom. <tap tap tap> Hey! Mom!<br />
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And this, dear reader, is when I lost my $#!T in Walmart, becoming "that Walmart mom". You know the one... she raises her voice and yells at her kids in public. Yep! That was ME! Yippee!<br />
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In my defense, I think only one Walmart customer turned and looked at me, but I'm pretty sure since my kids are teenagers and I wasn't raising a hand to swat anyone, she quickly turned away to ignore me.<br />
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Man, I love it when God humbles me. It's ugly and real. And it brings me off my high horse and down to the ground, where I actually reside. <br />
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Because I'm really just a hot mess, going through life generally thinking I'm doing okay in this gig. But clearly, I'm not. Clearly I'm as human as they come. And in desperate need of more patience.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270050784825754861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097718933604643595.post-42568350325052343082016-02-08T18:29:00.000-06:002016-02-08T18:29:08.159-06:00karmaWhat goes around, comes around. Right? Well after I posted that last little diddy about my tragic eyebrow wax (which was a little strongly worded, please don't think less of my mom. She had her mama bear claws out, understandably), karma bit me in the butt. This is the story where I redeem myself for making my mom look bad. I hope.<br />
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I told you I wax my own eyebrows, so naturally, anyone in my family who needs a good tightening up, gets it done by you-know-who. This could include, but is not limited to, my daughter, sisters, a nephew who will never be named, and many a friend through the years (both female <i>and</i> male). Don't worry, if you're a man and you're my friend, I would never wax your face without your permission.<br />
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You should know that this <i>usually</i> accompanies an evening of laughter and discussions about things that never leave that room. And a glass of wine. Or three.<br />
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To be sure, when mama and her friends head to the master bath, you know there's some waxing about to go down. By a completely uncertified, and certifiable, not-so-much-an-esthetician gal. <i>Little ol' me</i>. I mean, I'm not qualified by an stretch of the State's imagination, but since no one is paying me, I figure, who could sue me? <br />
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So back to the story.<br />
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I was waxing my daughter's eyebrows. All was well. There was no wine involved. And then it happened.<br />
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The wax was a leetle thick. And it spread when I laid the strip on top of it. And soooooo.... well.... a leetle more hair came off than expected. oops.<br />
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When my daughter turned to the mirror, she knew at once something was wrong. It could have been instinct. OR it could have been that I gasped after ripping off the muslin. Who knows.<br />
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She yelled into the mirror an unnamed cuss word. Then she literally BURST into tears. And then she <i>screamed</i> the unnamed cuss word. {Apparently the cussy thing has caught on around this place.} Finally, she looked me in the eye with hot tears streaming down her cheeks and yelled "You have ruined my life! This is the worst day of my entire life! What the h*(# were you thinking???"<br />
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OOF. <br />
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What to do? What to do. I couldn't glue those little follicles back on! So when I finally pulled myself together (because who could actually keep themselves from laughing. <i>is </i>there a more reasonable response??), I got on my knees and begged forgiveness. It took her a few minutes to come off the ledge, but she did finally forgive me. <i>Thank goodness.</i> Because I'm not <i>paying</i> someone to wax her eyebrows when I can clearly do it myself.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270050784825754861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097718933604643595.post-52088827095412421632016-01-18T15:31:00.001-06:002016-01-18T15:31:37.248-06:00waxing nostalgicWhen I was a newlywed, I went to a local spa to get my eyebrows waxed. This thing, this eyebrow waxing, was not a new thing in my life. But the lady doing the waxing was. And when I asked her to tighten up my eyebrows, she went to work.<br />
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About 20 minutes later she was done.<br />
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Now, I don't know how familiar you are with the process of waxing eyebrows, but this is no rocket science, folks. You do the underneath side, rriiippp. You do the top side, rriiipp. You do between the brows, rriiipp! And repeat. Once you've waxed, it's time to trim the length of the remaining hair. You use scissors and a small brush. And then! You are done. I know all this because I've been doing them myself at home for about 10 years now. Easy. Peasy.<br />
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I should have grown concerned after 10 minutes. And then again as the time inched to 15 minutes. But I was young and naive and was probably laying there thinking, <i>Wow, look at me. I'm in a spa! Getting my eyebrows waxed! I feel like such a lady of leisure! Aren't I lucky!</i><br />
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But my luck was about to run out. I had a date with destiny and her name was The Mirror.<br />
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When Sweet Newbie Waxer handed me the mirror and sat me up, I fought back tears. I tried to appear as calm as possible. I was only 26 and didn't really know how to ask for my eyebrows back. As if that was a real possibility.<br />
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So I waited until I got in the car and I burst into tears. And I drove myself home where my husband greeted me and started giggling immediately. <i>WHERE ARE YOUR EYEBROWS?</i> he asked. I replied with big, fat, hot tears, and he hugged me as he finally figured out the correct husband response. <i>I'm sorry honey! They'll grow back!</i><br />
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A few minutes later I was on the phone with my mom. I had called her for other reasons, but of course, the eyebrows came up when I was walking around and accidentally looked in the mirror as I passed by.<br />
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I recounted the whole 20 minute event to my mom who replied with the most <i>inappropriate</i> answer I could fathom at that moment.<br />
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<i>THAT BITCH!! </i> she hissed.<br />
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Ummm. WOAH. WAIT. WHAT?<br />
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<i>I can't believe she DID THAT TO YOU!</i> she replied, as if this was my mortal enemy I had laid down in front of to trust my eyebrows with and she had double crossed me.<br />
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Suddenly every emotion I had of sadness and slight anger flew out the window and I found myself defending this stranger. <i>MOM! CALM DOWN!! </i><br />
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And the rest, as they say, is history. Through the years, we've looked for hilarious and inappropriate times to yell <i>THAT BITCH</i> in a conversation with my mom. Because laughter makes the heart stronger.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270050784825754861noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097718933604643595.post-49400953752630055902016-01-03T11:40:00.000-06:002016-01-03T11:40:00.745-06:00quirkyWe had Christmas in the mountains. Have you ever been to the mountains for the holidays? It's dreamy, really. Magical. Especially when you wake up on Christmas day and there are BIG FAT SNOWFLAKES falling outside your window. Yes, you must do it sometime. Put it on your bucket list.<br />
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We've spent many Thanksgiving and Christmases in the Colorado Rockies. But this year was something special. Hubby's brother and our nephew came along for most of the trip and there was a lot of laughter and beer. Indeed, we had a splendid time. :)<br />
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But the best part came Christmas morning. I was reminded why I love my husband, in spite of the fact that he can drive me crazy. He bought me a mug.<br />
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A mug! First, you must know that I am a coffee ADDICT and unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you look at it), a mug collector as well. Because one can never have enough cute mugs to choose from when pouring their morning joe. Can I get an amen??<br />
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Anyway, back to the mug. I'll admit now that I wasn't super excited that he bought me a mug because, well, I like to choose these things. It's like underwear... you don't want someone buying it for you because they don't know how it FEELS on you. Now, when I say it's like underwear, I literally mean it. Because I have this quirky thing I do when I hold a mug. Ask anyone who's spent a lot of time around me drinking coffee (and there are plenty of you out there). You've seen me do it.<br />
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Let me give you a hint. In pictures.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5JDuo3pmR8S-zIwoPWkN6TMFAsLmMMAoCCb7bZq5XiWG7Ip-BW-uNZN6vOVQkrQ9DyCSWY94bVjwA3gYV_s5JEzNHLud2czx9hLi1tzcai5B4kcukxoefrTkqudAlypPliwFSa05byTE/s1600/IMG_6399.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5JDuo3pmR8S-zIwoPWkN6TMFAsLmMMAoCCb7bZq5XiWG7Ip-BW-uNZN6vOVQkrQ9DyCSWY94bVjwA3gYV_s5JEzNHLud2czx9hLi1tzcai5B4kcukxoefrTkqudAlypPliwFSa05byTE/s400/IMG_6399.JPG" width="300" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB7AfuCb8kxPshZ04Y1aqZUwfQdlVXhTwYemUxhqa2TZDqcE7iJWpRK4INSW1IOaxJ_oyD0RiRu4sR7l44tSrKdmMFQoaaPuRnV__SflLZaJT0WXoSpPcuHM1JHTaAqVpH7u7h26YdJ-4/s1600/IMG_6397.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB7AfuCb8kxPshZ04Y1aqZUwfQdlVXhTwYemUxhqa2TZDqcE7iJWpRK4INSW1IOaxJ_oyD0RiRu4sR7l44tSrKdmMFQoaaPuRnV__SflLZaJT0WXoSpPcuHM1JHTaAqVpH7u7h26YdJ-4/s400/IMG_6397.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8xhl89zwMOWu8AmYrObk-rNuRqZ1nvt9Q3PrFI6kLOXWdMhpzPPxqZJEQtoRF6gKg79JrkZQrtRcTOeGSkCZx9FG4xaQ6nsHKoiqZ9Gn8_vgeSb3OnZmK0XutGBu14sIvokNm4tUDSoE/s1600/IMG_6401.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8xhl89zwMOWu8AmYrObk-rNuRqZ1nvt9Q3PrFI6kLOXWdMhpzPPxqZJEQtoRF6gKg79JrkZQrtRcTOeGSkCZx9FG4xaQ6nsHKoiqZ9Gn8_vgeSb3OnZmK0XutGBu14sIvokNm4tUDSoE/s400/IMG_6401.JPG" width="300" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilWmg3fN3UnRIgBMd7Bfq6Pwjj9so7nQY_bo0G4AS6IH9maVSwn9h23V1kcPf9fIEg3MC8HdZnYYbX6-fVX4rUKp0Wqs7ffZiAPNzsK9zN3KfVrQNRIzyi8V-Z_D5KkqcG-i7heP5rOr8/s1600/IMG_6400.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilWmg3fN3UnRIgBMd7Bfq6Pwjj9so7nQY_bo0G4AS6IH9maVSwn9h23V1kcPf9fIEg3MC8HdZnYYbX6-fVX4rUKp0Wqs7ffZiAPNzsK9zN3KfVrQNRIzyi8V-Z_D5KkqcG-i7heP5rOr8/s400/IMG_6400.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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Do you happen to see a theme here? These are my favorite 4 mugs in the universe. And they all have one thing in common. They have ridges. Which I find comfort in rubbing my fingers across.<br />
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My big sister and my dad, on the other hand, they like to rub their fingers on a smooth surface. These mugs would be torture for them. QUIRKY, I KNOW. Just admit right now that you do something weird too, like rub your toes on the sheets to fall asleep, and we can be friends.<br />
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So again, back to the Christmas mug.... This mug was cute! It was black with a white Keystone logo on it. And smooth.... ohhhh.... sooooo.... SMOOTH. So when did I love my husband more for getting this oddly smooth mug for me? When he said this:<br />
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I tried to find a good mug for you! I picked them all up and I rubbed the sides, trying to find one that had something on it to rub! But there was NOTHING! None of the mugs had a scratchy part. So I had to go with <i>cute</i> instead. And I thought you might like this one. It's black! And has that chalkboard look that you like! DO YOU LIKE IT??<br />
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So how do you say no to that? Of course I love it. But mostly, I love that my husband stood in a little shop in Keystone, Colorado, picking up mugs to run his fingers over them.... searching <i>with love</i> for "the one" I might like. In spite of the fact that he instituted a rule in our house last year: Mug in, mug out. If you get a new mug, another one has to go. <i>And he bought me a new mug anyway.</i><br />
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That's love y'all. True love.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270050784825754861noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097718933604643595.post-79946564779692758862015-11-19T06:07:00.002-06:002015-11-19T06:07:20.334-06:005 things I'm thankful forHave you seen this on facebook? Every day people post 5 things they are thankful for. There are a few people in my feed doing it and I always love seeing the things they find extraordinary in the ordinary days. I love the attitude of gratefulness for the smallest of things. So I was inspired yesterday when I was driving down the road (NOT looking at facebook), to chronical these small victories that are consequential to my life. Here they are in no particular order. And if you've been around here long, you'll know how big these really are.<br />
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1. My freedom. I live in America. People fight to keep me safe. They don't even know me! And they do it anyway. Man I'm lucky. And so are you, American readers. I'm thankful I can speak my mind without dying for my words.<br />
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2. The results are in. "No genetic mutations were found" I had to read it outloud about 12 times to let it sink in. It was bitter sweet. Because I am THANKFUL that I do not have the BRCA1 gene, like one of my sisters. But then again, solidarity, man. I would have been happy to walk along side her in her struggles. So now, I walk alongside her and listen.... to anything she has to say. And I love her and pray for her and thank God every day that my sister won't have these two types of cancer to deal with in the future. I'm thankful for my sister. And I'm thankful for not carrying the "breast cancer gene".<br />
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3. My "accidental" new business. See, the beauty here is that God knows my heart. He knows that I love to create and share it with other people. So He orchestrated this amazing thing called the Farm Girl Fair and now He has inspired us girls to start a new dream... called Gatherings. We will mostly "gather" on the farm and for now, we will "gather" for short classes. But in the big dream, we will host weekend-long "Gatherings" complete with many handmade crafts, meals over campfires, and even live music. It's a big dream! But I believe it can happen. Because who knew how big Farm Girl Fair would be and yet..... it was awesome! Do you want to attend our inaugural class? <a href="http://www.signupgenius.com/go/20f054ea9aa2fa6fd0-holiday" target="_blank">Here are the deets.</a> I'm thankful for Gatherings by the creators of Farm Girl Fair.<br />
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4. I'm thankful for my husband. He's this goofy, sports-loving, family man who loves me and our family with a love we don't even deserve. He's committed, passionate, hard working, and occasionally funny. ;) He works really hard at his business and he's blessed the socks off our family with a new home this year. He is a good man. And he loves Jesus! What more could I ask for? I'm thankful for the Mister.<br />
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5. And last but not at all least, yesterday we visited the pediatric spine surgeon. He is this great guy who is so unassuming and gentle in nature. We have loved working with him. In the way that you love having to go have someone tell you that your child has an abnormality in their back. Anyway, we've been with him for 4 years now and for the last 9 months we've been stepping up our prayers in a mighty way. We've been on our knees asking God to STOP the growth of her curvature. She has two curves and they cause her a good amount of pain daily. But if they didn't stop growing, she was close to surgery. You know, no big deal, the kind of surgery where they slice open your back from top to bottom, RIP the muscles off your spine and fuse a metal rod to your spine. Bleh, I threw up in my mouth a little telling you this. Anyway, yesterday he told us the MOST AMAZING news. Her curvature has STOPPED GROWING! <i>ThankyouJesus</i>!! Such great news. She's still and never has been a candidate for a brace based on the placement of her curves. And she's grown now as tall as she'll ever be. But she's grown! According to their measurement, she's 5' 8" now! Woohoo! I'm thankful for a daughter who will <i>not</i> be having surgery this year.<br />
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Yes, I'm thankful. <i>Very thankful</i>.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270050784825754861noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097718933604643595.post-33096948243186388332015-11-09T10:19:00.001-06:002015-11-09T10:25:18.485-06:00my heart in a jar.I love Christmas. I love decorating and making goodies and having parties and decorating some more and going to parties. I love the music and the smells and the gifts. And mostly I love Jesus, for giving us such a fun time of year to celebrate his birth. I love winter.<br />
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This year we're headed out to ski for Thanksgiving and Christmas. I'm going to get in all my love of snow in 6 weeks time. It will be epic. ;)<br />
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And speaking of snow, I have been busy making snow globes. They are so cute, I admitted to my Mister yesterday that I am having a hard time considering parting with a single globe. Each one holds a piece of my heart! But alas, they will be for sale at the Holidays at the Farm private event on November 22nd! Here are a few I've been working on this weekend, along with some personal goodies that I just simply can't sell. But hey! If you want a snowglobe, I will make you a custom jar! Just let me know what you want inside and comment here or buy a ticket to Holidays and place your order then! :)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW_yC0UCPmD0sVXsFUW4mUEf8sZVYXNvyTG1C2hrVfbWGZVblep2fX2Kdi2ZKeb2rLGhBS-4RR12P0MG0GTzulZNWr7Bl1H31KnFUGBsvV_gv7VuQRMEnKFODw7isP-DffW3PSs9pym38/s1600/IMG_5597.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW_yC0UCPmD0sVXsFUW4mUEf8sZVYXNvyTG1C2hrVfbWGZVblep2fX2Kdi2ZKeb2rLGhBS-4RR12P0MG0GTzulZNWr7Bl1H31KnFUGBsvV_gv7VuQRMEnKFODw7isP-DffW3PSs9pym38/s640/IMG_5597.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<i> See that deer? It was love at first sight. I think I need to keep him.</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfufaML9c5HQrlVuyLS7dHFVWVzQi3xzc73eHIyPnLBs4Qqg8X91A4t-eTx0roBhfuPP9Hf0Yi66uUTFuFKOWXhdeTRvzSxeE-3zN0Do_P41yVQbVdA1_D13IEFgtNTTsn0AZmbQ1UUZk/s1600/IMG_5601.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfufaML9c5HQrlVuyLS7dHFVWVzQi3xzc73eHIyPnLBs4Qqg8X91A4t-eTx0roBhfuPP9Hf0Yi66uUTFuFKOWXhdeTRvzSxeE-3zN0Do_P41yVQbVdA1_D13IEFgtNTTsn0AZmbQ1UUZk/s640/IMG_5601.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i>I recently became obsessed with vintage Tonka trucks as Christmas decor. I scored this little guy at the Vintage Market Days sale in OKC last weekend. Then I threw on some trees, a miniature vintage santa and a bumper wreath and voila'! {{swoon}}</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_v4X8wwO3S7olLa2jT9O15Z-Y6J_qa0AdoL1ChQPA2F2mC6wt8BcGLKVs103S8ZS2g1QAaa-9BYqtF4A41OUrdsY9_o_fQOkbWMAaqjDZoM-8ySKpz2NMQUrwigFWA4GCInBv0dPCPm4/s1600/IMG_5602.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_v4X8wwO3S7olLa2jT9O15Z-Y6J_qa0AdoL1ChQPA2F2mC6wt8BcGLKVs103S8ZS2g1QAaa-9BYqtF4A41OUrdsY9_o_fQOkbWMAaqjDZoM-8ySKpz2NMQUrwigFWA4GCInBv0dPCPm4/s640/IMG_5602.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i>And this globe? Well, it too, can be yours.... very soon. Follow me on insta to see the next great thing coming from the creators of Farm Girl Fair!! {hint, hint}</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPFHY4dkwDZK6ZZDIrW1nOXfjv13DZv-ugKhBtSRcpeTt8XcT7Vvi4wnhb5_ReQRi3qLo1fgTyMb6dsimy8jR8hctEFnJcu3TLGYY8K0_zwA3kH6dH1hr2biK2l3vfDPsOceSvx0zjIeU/s1600/IMG_5603.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPFHY4dkwDZK6ZZDIrW1nOXfjv13DZv-ugKhBtSRcpeTt8XcT7Vvi4wnhb5_ReQRi3qLo1fgTyMb6dsimy8jR8hctEFnJcu3TLGYY8K0_zwA3kH6dH1hr2biK2l3vfDPsOceSvx0zjIeU/s640/IMG_5603.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i>This sweet gal was the last one standing after Farm Girl Fair this fall. You can still snag her!</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD3-TLLTDPONoJIGaGS4lkERfAM94FdhoqsStj490GvuSnCvUNTuERxhjfyjcY-UdZ8CXeVSGios1vfcQagzXr2KLWoav_FlDp1WyRCrp95q8EruVCVr7ytXnLwTGax423fpw2xbTujUI/s1600/IMG_5604.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD3-TLLTDPONoJIGaGS4lkERfAM94FdhoqsStj490GvuSnCvUNTuERxhjfyjcY-UdZ8CXeVSGios1vfcQagzXr2KLWoav_FlDp1WyRCrp95q8EruVCVr7ytXnLwTGax423fpw2xbTujUI/s640/IMG_5604.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i>And this one? It's all slightly off, just like me. He'll be sold "as is" for a discount at Holidays on the Farm later this month! Vintage Santa, glittery deer and all.</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHBAHdB82X4KRMZWqxt9grOxfvJp0ctg8y4IKIF-vsCXjAPDwJGa6n4wpEEBq2R2mS7yaV9HQ81IY2K1YracXrYxJYHZWSKoeMnCQo7zmBrfBKnZnJEZVfy3EOfMI0adHVLxUvFhSlRjw/s1600/IMG_5605.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHBAHdB82X4KRMZWqxt9grOxfvJp0ctg8y4IKIF-vsCXjAPDwJGa6n4wpEEBq2R2mS7yaV9HQ81IY2K1YracXrYxJYHZWSKoeMnCQo7zmBrfBKnZnJEZVfy3EOfMI0adHVLxUvFhSlRjw/s640/IMG_5605.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i>This miniature is one of my favorites. It's all tiny. Like super tiny. And the perfect piece for that little cranny you have looking for a Christmas decoration.</i></div>
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<i>And last, but certainly not least, is this miniature vintage snowman snow globe. It's got sparkle galore and a snowflake hanging from the ceiling. It's really too cute to pass up.</i></div>
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SO. Have I convinced you to purchase a ticket to Holidays on the Farm yet?? If not, consider the other AMAZING vendors who will be back with their wares to share their immense talent with YOU, one last time before Christmas. Tickets are $20 each and all the proceeds go to the CCFI Holiday Wishes program! Tickets are being PRE-SOLD and will NOT be available at the door. Spread the love and buy local for Christmas! Happy Holidays y'all!</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270050784825754861noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097718933604643595.post-80303722086457767342015-10-26T14:57:00.002-05:002015-10-26T14:57:38.470-05:00the future is in my handYou've heard the term "holding the future in your hands", right? Well have you ever? Like literally HELD the future in your hands? I did. Recently. And it looks like this...<br />
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That little box. What does it hold? Well, specifically... my spit. It holds mama's saliva. And it got mailed off over 7 weeks ago to a genetic testing company. I'm waiting patiently for results. 6-12 weeks, to be precise.<br />
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How do you wait patiently for genetic testing results? By the grace of God. And a lot of ignoring that it's possible you could carry the BRCA1 or BRCA2 gene or any of the other 19 genes they are currently testing me for.<br />
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It all began earlier this year when my sister sent in her "sample" and was identified as carrying the BRCA1 gene. Life can get really simple when faced with this kind of information. Life matters. <br />
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You see there isn't a single life that exists that wasn't breathed into existence without God. He is never surprised by unexpected pregnancies or deaths or cancer. He is never surprised when we find out we carry a gene that all but guarantees what we've assumed our whole lives. And so... I trust Him. I trust that He knows what I don't. That He sees what I can't. And that His plan for my life includes any obstacle that brings me closer to Him. <br />
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Soon I'll get the call. The one where I'll sit down on speaker phone with my Mister and a genetic counselor. And although I have no idea if my call will sound like my sister's call did (well, I do have a 50/50 chance of it being the same), I know, like she does, that all is well. I don't have to be in control. Jesus is at the wheel.<br />
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This is in no way an advertisement for or endorsement of the genetic testing company we chose, but if you're curious, I'm happy to share that we used <a href="https://getcolor.com/" target="_blank">color</a>. Genetic testing has become significantly more affordable and available. My test cost $249 but this month (October 2015) they are offering their testing for $199. Just so you know.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270050784825754861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097718933604643595.post-17865690737551931472015-10-21T07:17:00.000-05:002015-10-21T07:17:16.893-05:00mama's new officeI mean y'all. You wouldn't believe the lengths I would go to for a good craft. <br />
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Over the weekend Mr. Mister told me that he wants to kick me out of the office in our house. He "needs more room to spread out" he says. And let's be honest, he really didn't want me there to begin with, but mama's gotta have her cute desk <i>somewhere</i>, so.... the office seemed like a <i>logical</i> place in our new house.<br />
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Although I am a purger by nature, I have accumulated a RIDICULOUS amount of craft supplies over my time as a maker. And that "stuff" has to go somewhere, so when we moved in here, it got dispersed to nooks and crannies where it fit. Which means I've got crap in the office, guest room, and master bedroom. No bueno.<br />
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So on Sunday, the Mister gave me marching orders to head to Ikea (alone! gasp!) and get a desk/table/whatevertheheckIwant to set up my "office space" in the guest room. Have fun he said.<br />
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Has this <i>EVER</i> happened to you? It's a rarity around here. So I did the logical thing: I ran around like a crazy woman, threw on a hat, grabbed my toothbrush and jammies, and <i>RAN</i> out the door (before he could change his mind, of course, and because who knows when Ikea closes. I was coming from Oklahoma, you know.)<br />
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Now I'll spare you the details of my hours-long trip to mecca and tell you that I was working on the fly. I was using many numbers in my head for measurements. And I was trying my darndest to keep it all straight. And yet.... when you fail to plan, you plan to fail.<br />
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I came home with this awesome, long tabletop, and two trellis legs. Hmmmmm. Anything sound off here to you? It didn't to my mind that was swimming with all the possibilities. Apparently when you buy a "build your own desk" deal at Ikea, you need to LOOK AT THE TABLETOP before leaving to see HOW MANY LEGS IT NEEDS. Turns out, this looooooong top needed an extra support in the middle. Snap.<br />
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And yet, this Macguyver managed to assemble the table without needing that extra leg. But not before she ordered one online and tried to cancel it minutes later, only to be told by Ikea that they couldn't cancel it <i>twelve hours later</i>. Whose fault is that?? Check your email sooner, Ikea.<br />
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Anyway, I digress. So now there's a bonafide office space being erected in my guest room and last night I had a cussy moment. You know, I have a problem with <a href="http://www.mrsfrakes.blogspot.com/2015/10/this-is-my-story.html" target="_blank">that</a>. So, I had been inspired by <a href="https://www.pinterest.com/kimfrakes/mamas-office/" target="_blank">youknowwho</a> to make a pegboard to go above my new office space. And of course, I jumped in my car and ran over to Lowes (which is because they are the closest store to my house). I went inside and had a precious time dreaming about cross stitching my new peg board. Let me share some inspiration here with you. These are all from Pinterest. Who I hate, by the way, but she's a necessary evil in the inspiration business.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaO8X6UvO_GuwJ4mK8FA9qCeDMxFZbuwdqal5NfrTsceYm6Nimtk58y-cziT8lKyMeSRmGVFg4LgC8H3tf29cJWZiW0e-gsw2zI-9DrAo0i3lAJ7VxHkUxBdCC__kWEPwyMRjJzMndje4/s1600/IMG_5355.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaO8X6UvO_GuwJ4mK8FA9qCeDMxFZbuwdqal5NfrTsceYm6Nimtk58y-cziT8lKyMeSRmGVFg4LgC8H3tf29cJWZiW0e-gsw2zI-9DrAo0i3lAJ7VxHkUxBdCC__kWEPwyMRjJzMndje4/s640/IMG_5355.PNG" width="360" /></a></div>
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<i>WHA?? Paint a cross stitch? I was just planning to hang some crap on my wall. Now you're speaking my language!</i></div>
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<i>Is this for real?? A cross stitched RUG on a PEGBOARD?? GET IN MY HOUSE!</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixWq19o4qxQnKbFb0flySj1dK1n4gGQLVOeuLt7dtqHVuNYTyknAXhPVSnL22fob7_269FZi1mGI4HTMpH1sgyX_owAKvmSpwXdQIKLYtxD0fcrKYr6vdpRLrxFPxOKa37d8ZiuiHQV8E/s1600/IMG_5358.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixWq19o4qxQnKbFb0flySj1dK1n4gGQLVOeuLt7dtqHVuNYTyknAXhPVSnL22fob7_269FZi1mGI4HTMpH1sgyX_owAKvmSpwXdQIKLYtxD0fcrKYr6vdpRLrxFPxOKa37d8ZiuiHQV8E/s640/IMG_5358.PNG" width="360" /></a></div>
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<i>And this, folks, was the original inspiration. But when I went searching I found so much more than I imagined possible. I'm leaning now between simple and roses.</i></div>
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So anywho... Last night I check out at Lowes with my new 4x4 pegboard and went out to my car. That mother scratcher wouldn't fit into my stupid little car. (This is one of those time that I actually miss my minivan.) I sat there, on the edge of my back bumper for a solid 15 minutes, watching the sun set in the freaking Lowes parking lot, silently cussing. I called Mister for some practical help (like should I go inside and buy a saw and cut up that board right here in the %@^*& parking lot?) because of course, once I was inspired, Lowes was unprepared for me. Their saw was out of order. No cutting on their end.</div>
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Alas, I had to return that stupid board and go home empty handed. Well, technically not. I kept all the gadgets I bought to put on the pegboard that I WILL OWN VERY SOON, FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD.</div>
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Stay tuned. Office reno is coming soon...... </div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270050784825754861noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097718933604643595.post-73635550235200594722015-10-14T16:19:00.000-05:002015-10-14T16:19:55.071-05:00this is my story.Man I love fall. I love when the wind turns to a chill, the leaves fall, the pumpkin candles burn, and the football is on tv ALL DAY LONG. I know that's surprising, <i>me</i>, loving football of all kinds. But I think it's just the sound of fall as background noise. It's comforting. <br />
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As fall settles in, we all start coming indoors. We look around, fluff our nests, and ready for the winter ahead. Oklahoma falls don't last that long. We sort of go from hot to cold. But that's fine by me. I love this "little" town in our little state. I love the community I feel here, the friendly people, and the shared value systems around me.<br />
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Speaking of value systems, lately I've been a <i>leetle convicted</i>. I've started back in BSF and this week one of the questions basically asked about a sin you struggle with. I wasn't in my normal group where I should feel safe sharing the answer. Nooooo, my leader is out of town so I was in with another group, where luckily two of my friends normally meet. So I felt "safe enough". And as is customary while you're in my company, I just laid it out there to these precious and God-fearing women.<br />
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"Welllll, I love Jesus, but I cuss a little. Because if you're honest, you know that sometimes a well placed cuss word is FUNNY." Yep. There it is. I actually said that outloud to strangers in my bible study. But seriously: Jacka$$. That's a GOOD word. And it has all kinds of uses. So I use it.<br />
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The problem with all my cussing is that I worry that people see the words and miss the message. I cuss a little (and don't worry: only in appropriate places and around adults) <i>but I LOVE JESUS</i>. <br />
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Y'all. You don't even know the road I've walked in my lifetime. You don't even know the crap that lies beneath. But you'll know my heart if you spend any time around me. You'll know that for being a conservative Christian, I am surprisingly non-judgmental. (Well, it's no surprise to me, but liberals might find this hard to understand.)<br />
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I know pain. I know loss. I know struggle. And I know the feeling that God is far far away and not really interested in my heartache.<br />
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But I also now know that God loves me and every intimate detail of my life. He loves me in spite of my awful mistakes. He has pulled me out of the pits of despair and redeemed me. He has made my story beautiful when I gave Him a mess to contend with. <i>I have seen redemption and forgiveness first hand</i>.<br />
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Do you have a story like this? Well let me tell you now, that SHAME is removed from your life when you are able to have victory over it. Telling your story is the only way to really remove the shame from your mistakes. You don't have to hide in fear anymore when you say hey, here's who I am. I'm not perfect, just forgiven. And God has the final say on the chapters ahead for me. That pain has no dominion over my life.<br />
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Listen to this little diddy.<br />
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I love this song. Because lately I've been convicted to share my story. It's not a story that I will write here, so don't get your hopes up too high. ;) But know that if I get <i>that feeling</i> while I'm with you, and God tells me to share, <i>I will do it</i>. And you should consider doing the same thing. <br />
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Do you know why it's important to your own story to share it with others? It's this little word called HOPE. Because <i>your story</i> may be the one that gives someone hope to someone who is desperately seeking it. It tells them that they, too, are worth the cost of the cross. <i>Their life matters</i>. And didn't you need to hear that at some point in your story?<br />
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So don't hold it in. Share your story of defeat in victory, explaining how God used your brokenness to make you completely whole. Don't be afraid, friend. You were meant for this.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270050784825754861noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097718933604643595.post-30273136822636898532015-09-28T10:20:00.001-05:002015-09-28T10:28:27.358-05:00dreams realized<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYbkLg1wg2GJUwTNfISnbTFFf_SwnkZPXuWSg4IdZshB6FgY21doabMiaZRv7bbjgg6_MbGf00GuASx4Hav76xiIBpgA6SIfCCOF-RhaDpJoGWAkgSKBEV-YNNj179AgBoSFiJDsjZx3E/s1600/IMG_4688.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYbkLg1wg2GJUwTNfISnbTFFf_SwnkZPXuWSg4IdZshB6FgY21doabMiaZRv7bbjgg6_MbGf00GuASx4Hav76xiIBpgA6SIfCCOF-RhaDpJoGWAkgSKBEV-YNNj179AgBoSFiJDsjZx3E/s400/IMG_4688.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Me, in my Farm Girl glory. Ha! </div>
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<i>photography by Shar Rother</i></div>
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I'm not a dreamer. I'm the daughter of a man who held the same job at a desk until he retired and a woman who held stable jobs along the way to her retirement. We are do-ers, not dreamers. <br />
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So when I married Mr. Mister, I was thrown for a loop. What are all these dreams you talk of? Please! Put them away! Just go do your job, make your money, and let us be stable folk like I know how to be! <br />
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And yet.... God had a few things to teach me about the dreams He WANTS us to have.<br />
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I rode along for 16 years on the coat-tails of my dreamy (er...) DREAMER husband. He took our family all over town to new houses. He led us to own rent houses, sell them, and make money. He dreamed about starting businesses. And he taught me a lot along the way to let go of my NEED to control. Because dreams are really just letting go of control! I can't be in control <i>and</i> dream big! I like to say that I'm a Type A personality in remission. God has healed my need to be the one who always had the wheel.<br />
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So back in February, seven short months ago, I was doin' my thang. Working at my job, homeschooling my son, remodeling a new home, and plugging along like I know how to do. And that's when the dream began.<br />
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I was texting <a href="http://www.theunlikelyfarmgirl.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Carol</a> about this Little Craft Show in NW Arkansas. We were both obsessed with it. We both wanted to drive out and attend. We loved the idea. We loved the vendors we saw online. We loved.<br />
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She said to me: Let's do our own little craft show! MY reply? Yah! Let's do it!<br />
The difference here was that she was serious and I was half kidding.<br />
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The more we talked about where and what we would do, the more we realized together that this really was an actual possibility. We can't do it alone, she said. Let's bring in our mutual friend Lindsi! YES. This would be good.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMi5mrnE6wc0xm6Hn_BVIiuK6uBY0E0VaSPN8gZm-0pP-_uvOKzLElEvzRGJQbLDFNaH6Pm2CFBD5o17eqPGZ7JY6c635KDQqELSnwz7h-G2MK15TLves8Yfsf5nvUsNZl20dY4CjnmVU/s1600/IMG_4719.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMi5mrnE6wc0xm6Hn_BVIiuK6uBY0E0VaSPN8gZm-0pP-_uvOKzLElEvzRGJQbLDFNaH6Pm2CFBD5o17eqPGZ7JY6c635KDQqELSnwz7h-G2MK15TLves8Yfsf5nvUsNZl20dY4CjnmVU/s400/IMG_4719.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i>photo courtesy of the amazing Shar Rother</i></div>
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And so Farm Girl Fair began.... in a bar, at a table with salads and wine and hearts full of anticipation. Carol brought us each a little notebook and Lindsi brought us cute pens. We needed to plan with style, you know!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIiVywc-lgWkFbJ5SJRT4JbnAXD5h-DSjuo9n3ONCxEbORtwZ_qWmunbSxig9GCwnn-5Qa7-r7oRx3udN-sISxaRJjN2iYYgJlLpCJ5yIl9nknNvj5giVNaLijNcyJp4Aw4DkRLHE5koM/s1600/IMG_5083.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIiVywc-lgWkFbJ5SJRT4JbnAXD5h-DSjuo9n3ONCxEbORtwZ_qWmunbSxig9GCwnn-5Qa7-r7oRx3udN-sISxaRJjN2iYYgJlLpCJ5yIl9nknNvj5giVNaLijNcyJp4Aw4DkRLHE5koM/s320/IMG_5083.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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We asked questions. We took notes. We found areas of common ground on the important stuff. And our dream was small. We were afraid to ask for much more! We brainstormed names for our little event. We chose a price for admission. Carol suggested we give our admission money to a charity. She was involved intimately with the Center for Children and Families in Norman. Let's give it to them! YES! we all agreed.<br />
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And our dream took root. We began meeting every few weeks, working through details and inventing the wheel. We didn't need a handbook on how to throw a fair because our vision was unique. Let's plan the whole thing around the Charlotte's Web fair we always had in our minds as kids. Bunting strung everywhere. Pigs to pet. Horse rides. A blue-ribbon pie contest. Entertainment. The list went on and on. And as our excitement grew, so did our vision. We poured our hearts and souls into the details. <br />
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When we began looking for vendors, we called our crafty friends. We created a <a href="http://www.farmgirlfair.com/" target="_blank">website</a>. And we promoted on facebook and insta. We sat back and waited. And God showed us just how BIG He could make our little dream.<br />
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Our dream began with 20 vendors and a pasture with a hayride. But this weekend? 50 vendors, activities for kids, kettle corn, Italian Ice, a bustling marketplace, and 3 women overcome with JOY.<br />
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Let me tell the story in pictures. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYg8lJo0ey4mJOAggdi96cHX7aOZrLZuTLSOye0QYIVfCmZEzELmM9a68j-tR5gfWRYeKXsoDLfFh0PVGdvCWnMDPXKzqc1KFThRBbUExPzfNQIcCWtPbA_eHNbgBO_GByB4-q33mlgj4/s1600/IMG_5086.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYg8lJo0ey4mJOAggdi96cHX7aOZrLZuTLSOye0QYIVfCmZEzELmM9a68j-tR5gfWRYeKXsoDLfFh0PVGdvCWnMDPXKzqc1KFThRBbUExPzfNQIcCWtPbA_eHNbgBO_GByB4-q33mlgj4/s320/IMG_5086.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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Wilbur, of course.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF5jPcpU-9rCeLCVcU1HUm0qneIAykhgBOVhfOx_wh5l1gVl1VZvtMc6lDfA-qjvZ412D4CDOpij2sSkjmCTVUCnFuw9tC4PMbXgVDH3ZYCpkPDhyphenhyphenKmOy281f5Vc3LmH9j636aSr6FNsk/s1600/FullSizeRender+%25283%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="319" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF5jPcpU-9rCeLCVcU1HUm0qneIAykhgBOVhfOx_wh5l1gVl1VZvtMc6lDfA-qjvZ412D4CDOpij2sSkjmCTVUCnFuw9tC4PMbXgVDH3ZYCpkPDhyphenhyphenKmOy281f5Vc3LmH9j636aSr6FNsk/s320/FullSizeRender+%25283%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Charlotte, who showed up, like a gift from God that morning in Lindsi's booth.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVVgPmQY4cKOcDdzwYdlmvpzqYMlxH9PdtjbUB-sWMwHSaVc8a3eMdpL7TH5RUtr_9epq7dud96H37bMrwuPFQJfedmdq53EtPlKNGF6491Xd-P4BW7wNrYGvaM4lJhRv5TcWg2g8OSWI/s1600/IMG_5020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVVgPmQY4cKOcDdzwYdlmvpzqYMlxH9PdtjbUB-sWMwHSaVc8a3eMdpL7TH5RUtr_9epq7dud96H37bMrwuPFQJfedmdq53EtPlKNGF6491Xd-P4BW7wNrYGvaM4lJhRv5TcWg2g8OSWI/s640/IMG_5020.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<i>AND THEN</i>... just like in the Field of Dreams movie... IF you build it, THEY WILL COME.</div>
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And did they come! The cars stretched for a MILE down the road. {<i>TEARS, PEOPLE}</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2hlpFTFn9VsoG0C3KlJXpmVLKIa5skviLaLQkm-HP74Hb1rnNXrs9WiyuFzRojuLrYlahASFxiQ5cYuUhG_6qAj6kFXUXCBWIpaU1DcBBB7lg4H3ZFoEwwb2SKFqTQuyAkrTjjlI9-DQ/s1600/IMG_5084.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2hlpFTFn9VsoG0C3KlJXpmVLKIa5skviLaLQkm-HP74Hb1rnNXrs9WiyuFzRojuLrYlahASFxiQ5cYuUhG_6qAj6kFXUXCBWIpaU1DcBBB7lg4H3ZFoEwwb2SKFqTQuyAkrTjjlI9-DQ/s640/IMG_5084.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i>The one and only Caryn Ross! Sassy Mama herself!</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtXWKonCs1vKTJMBSZO8jBSIETSQxPCwPliiT-bZ8SXKNJepdJWRvi_VYV40SmCGVcoicPRc04MW9tSpXwEiJWDXuqydz6Kx5eZG4d8rI9JSDEXfBzDmFi2Qr5D7NzVfNbzVkI6xtBeBM/s1600/IMG_5014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtXWKonCs1vKTJMBSZO8jBSIETSQxPCwPliiT-bZ8SXKNJepdJWRvi_VYV40SmCGVcoicPRc04MW9tSpXwEiJWDXuqydz6Kx5eZG4d8rI9JSDEXfBzDmFi2Qr5D7NzVfNbzVkI6xtBeBM/s640/IMG_5014.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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These <i>sweet </i>girls made cookies and brownies <i>to die for</i>! </div>
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My little booth... not much, but something!</div>
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Our pie judges! Caryn Ross, Terri Owens, Rob Standridge, and Bill Niebur</div>
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The winner was a Salted Caramel Drowned Turtle Pie. Hmmmmm, with a name like that, can you imagine how they won?? Haha!</div>
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The Three Farmgirls... Carol, Kim, and Lindsi</div>
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And now, folks, for the FUN part. </div>
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That night, after all the vendors had packed up and left, precious friends came over with food and drinks. They fed us, made yummy club specials, and counted the money that was made at the gate. This picture was right before we made guesses on how much we could donate to CCFI. Right before we all cried tears of JOY. Right before we realized, fully, how BIG our dream had become. What we had ACTUALLY accomplished. </div>
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I guessed $3,000.</div>
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Carol guessed $2,000.</div>
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Lindsi guessed $4,000.</div>
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But we were all LOW.</div>
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Seven thousand seven hundred twenty four dollars.</div>
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$7,724! WHA WHA?????</div>
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Yes. That.</div>
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Dream big, y'all. DREAM BIG.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270050784825754861noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097718933604643595.post-12039474020972559222015-09-02T10:29:00.002-05:002015-09-02T10:29:12.736-05:00Farm Girl FairWarning! This is my shameless plug for the Farm Girl Fair. <br />
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We are less than a month out now for the Farm Girl Fair, people! Less than 30 days until over 50 vendors of handmade things come to the Sandy River Ranch and set up shop! I can not tell you how excited and stressed and nervous I am. My two girls and I text all day long, every day. The artistically talented Lindsi Niebur, <a href="http://www.theunlikelyfarmgirl.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">The Unlikely Farmgirl</a> Carol Bauman and I are working our tails off to remember EVERY. LAST. DETAIL. <br />
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There's nothing like inventing a wheel. Which is really what we're doing. <br />
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There's no handbook for how to throw a fair. But that's good! Because we get to invent it ourselves! And we have so many cute details to pull off. It's going to be awesome.<br />
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What IS the Farm Girl Fair, you ask? It's an old fashioned "County Fair" feel (think Charlotte's Web) with vendors that lean more towards artsy than craftsy, live entertainment, a Pie Tasting Contest (wanna enter? There's still room! But time is running out. Click here to enter!), a petting zoo, hay rides, and a Farm Girl Fair Photo Booth. There will be a make and take area for kids and food vendors for the hungry. Yes, this is a BIG DEAL. A lot of details to be pulled off. But we are well on our way! And we're super excited.<br />
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My guest room has turned into my personal Farm Girl Fair headquarters. I told hubby to expect a mess for the next month. "Just look away" I say. ;)<br />
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So here it is, my beautiful mess:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHspdfejheDe79QlpvtpOg9BIIO5TOBs6z46EWrh08Hvk-WcvQCkX9163oeqzhmq39RUTK8WDQlOj9dOlrg3DamWuECW8nELa9ajjcKtwJFEK4NPaZgPE_SuT7Z1nkR1S5UA1e5EOpS20/s1600/IMG_4563.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHspdfejheDe79QlpvtpOg9BIIO5TOBs6z46EWrh08Hvk-WcvQCkX9163oeqzhmq39RUTK8WDQlOj9dOlrg3DamWuECW8nELa9ajjcKtwJFEK4NPaZgPE_SuT7Z1nkR1S5UA1e5EOpS20/s640/IMG_4563.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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That produced these, among other goodies...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz71gvEmkRWLeIw5nDCLTyiqrBLmB-cWfdeZ9L-TveXXeeT2_oLjzs-66CR0YxQlLx6pJfV8PwgCzSOWJ08Nc3Y_mWCsVYGQaZDn6JKYU1alc9h4onFBRKwqmNK596yV9Dwl5rOoGHCeQ/s1600/FullSizeRender+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz71gvEmkRWLeIw5nDCLTyiqrBLmB-cWfdeZ9L-TveXXeeT2_oLjzs-66CR0YxQlLx6pJfV8PwgCzSOWJ08Nc3Y_mWCsVYGQaZDn6JKYU1alc9h4onFBRKwqmNK596yV9Dwl5rOoGHCeQ/s640/FullSizeRender+%25282%2529.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGy0vE_SDSLTdDAAXI2z3625Xp8RHFUs2EDHATRj6K9UoYgfMRRBgwlqWTkUl9CWG_b1LUEPad84mLM4zsaCcRJd0q-3ayEi9GkAzZpsbUWESRBwb1tNKGV2lN_IgQ0QU_lbyiUuOF3Ws/s1600/FullSizeRender.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGy0vE_SDSLTdDAAXI2z3625Xp8RHFUs2EDHATRj6K9UoYgfMRRBgwlqWTkUl9CWG_b1LUEPad84mLM4zsaCcRJd0q-3ayEi9GkAzZpsbUWESRBwb1tNKGV2lN_IgQ0QU_lbyiUuOF3Ws/s640/FullSizeRender.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrINuQFuA9g5MgcBvpbVicYoduDU5RAPGXduELb4MVSIuWhPRumFgtNT9q90WsaKqVSohVvzs7aPgVYovNwnDlhV7zZeX9yzbaIh-jssLDriG8m4nwJOIje3rxz7QUlztzsDyTmPil9G8/s1600/IMG_4579.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrINuQFuA9g5MgcBvpbVicYoduDU5RAPGXduELb4MVSIuWhPRumFgtNT9q90WsaKqVSohVvzs7aPgVYovNwnDlhV7zZeX9yzbaIh-jssLDriG8m4nwJOIje3rxz7QUlztzsDyTmPil9G8/s640/IMG_4579.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Y'ALL. We are having fun preparing. Check out this cutie from The Unlikely Farmgirl! She'll kill me for posting it, but HELLO?? HOW CUTE IS IT???</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzIM-ZQ1jco89u3hJRewBxe5IKDZyv8M50Dg1zMpDuv_dP2ucqKsjD2GiA6T-9XV8IsRbeS43wxngQhy6iLmTkytdz-sYwQtui0vRD8plQ9d68LEfxcMDzkqRvDCSji1LK7ScuWQzvlSk/s1600/IMG_4605.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzIM-ZQ1jco89u3hJRewBxe5IKDZyv8M50Dg1zMpDuv_dP2ucqKsjD2GiA6T-9XV8IsRbeS43wxngQhy6iLmTkytdz-sYwQtui0vRD8plQ9d68LEfxcMDzkqRvDCSji1LK7ScuWQzvlSk/s640/IMG_4605.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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AND WHAT THE WHA? How cute are these cake toppers from our very own Lindsi Niebur??</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggBXaV4SfkJ2_EDMVfY5EVWG6SpQ_bmy8mPXp8Ajs8hOS13IUnmVVJepfIkXz_EvZVJQmvv4UA8HTUuT1RWk8svuB1DKl4UkNWwkCpmKDRrYWk_JvgfnZ6aywxUT9kwyaheuVY9fOMGgc/s1600/IMG_4606.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggBXaV4SfkJ2_EDMVfY5EVWG6SpQ_bmy8mPXp8Ajs8hOS13IUnmVVJepfIkXz_EvZVJQmvv4UA8HTUuT1RWk8svuB1DKl4UkNWwkCpmKDRrYWk_JvgfnZ6aywxUT9kwyaheuVY9fOMGgc/s640/IMG_4606.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<b>See you at the Fair!</b></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270050784825754861noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097718933604643595.post-18158701113771211592015-08-05T12:59:00.000-05:002015-08-05T12:59:49.911-05:00provisionIf you've been around here long, you'll know that I love Jesus. He's my main man and my rock. I trust Him and rely on Him. Jesus loves me. And He loves you, too.<br />
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Today I want to tell you a little story about provision and I'm gonna jump on a soapbox for a moment, too. Bear with me. I promise not to offend anyone. :)<br />
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Many years ago my older sister was a young wife with two small children, married to a pastor. They were on a fixed and limited income and they relied on God to take care of their "needs" and especially their "wants". She kept a list on her fridge of things she "wanted". I happened upon that list one day and asked what it was all about. There were three things there including throw pillows for her sofa. <br />
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She told me that she couldn't afford to buy those things, but she wrote them down and offered them up to God. She trusted that He knew her heart and her desires and that if He wanted her to have them, then He would provide a way.<br />
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She would pray over her list (and add needed items to it) when she went out garage sale-ing on the weekends. And ALL THE TIME God would meet her heart's desires right where she was in a driveway. It was amazing! She needed school supplies and there they were, new in a package! Those pillows? Perfect condition in someone's garage. Clothes? Yep, they were there, too. God PROVIDED for my sister and her young family.<br />
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I look around myself and see American excess. And yet, I'm a purger. I find things to give away at least once a month. It's a habit that mostly does me well. Occasionally I will wish I hadn't given that <i>one thing</i> away, but for the most part, I love to give. I pray fervently that I will be known for generosity and if there's one thing that goes on my tombstone, I will be happy if that's it.<br />
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Kim Hudson Frakes: Beloved wife, mother, giver. Lover of Jesus and people.<br />
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I've learned generosity from my parents. All three. They've been generous with me for my whole life. Even the one who <i>chooses</i> to love me although I'm not her own. Parents teach generosity without saying a word. I hope I'm passing this along as well.<br />
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So yesterday, I was planning to unpack and decorate my new classroom at school. I'm getting excited for school to start. To meet my new littles (who you <i>may</i> hear a little about soon because kids are <i>hysterical</i>). I'm looking forward to a new group, a new challenge, a new start. And yet, I began realizing the things my room is lacking. So I put out a call on facebook for anyone who might have a generous heart. And WOW, did God provide. I got not only what I asked for, but BETTER than I had even imagined! A globe? <i>How about on a stand?</i> A bookshelf? <i>A nice tall one work for ya, Kim?</i> Yes. God was good to me today.<br />
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I have a hard time admitting that I can't do it all. I don't like showing a crack in my shell. But every once in a while, God teaches me a little about myself when He directs me to use other people for His glory. So THANK YOU to those of you who donated. And THANK YOU to anyone reading who has considered being generous to a teach in need. Teachers pull out of their pockets every year in every classroom. It's a huge blessing to them when you share your excess. <br />
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I'm looking forward to sharing the before and afters of my classical education classroom. Wondering how that differs from a regular ed class? Think Pottery Barn, not red, yellow, and blue. I think you'll enjoy what you find. See you soon!<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270050784825754861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097718933604643595.post-37340895044623276612015-07-19T11:51:00.000-05:002015-07-19T11:51:47.160-05:00mirror mirror on the wallMy friend Carol. Man. That girl is full of inspiration. And energy! <br />
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When she made this design board for my guest bathroom, I fell instantly in love.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzuTZvDCyxt_lr5NhS5rXGD8hDUR29sGW2tRZYYCOI28hyphenhyphenwydzMDuu6HQvbmuD2iM2PyeLnLf320WuwZ2j8TslIl_SEcB24cPV6r9Fz22-Klr97BmL7PfeZ_skFFlRL90GDSteIhLESjw/s1600/FullSizeRender+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzuTZvDCyxt_lr5NhS5rXGD8hDUR29sGW2tRZYYCOI28hyphenhyphenwydzMDuu6HQvbmuD2iM2PyeLnLf320WuwZ2j8TslIl_SEcB24cPV6r9Fz22-Klr97BmL7PfeZ_skFFlRL90GDSteIhLESjw/s640/FullSizeRender+%25281%2529.jpg" width="484" /></a></div>
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My only problem was the cost. We hadn't originally planned to update that guest bathroom. Suddenly we were adding cost to the mounting remodel cost. We had already been blindsided by a new HVAC system at the tune of $6,000 and water in our breakfast room air ducts which resulted in a new french drain. Oh! A french drain? Would you like the $4,000 model or the $1,500 one? Either way, it was money we hadn't planned to spend. </div>
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So I tried to create Carol's beautiful bathroom, but it fell short. The shower curtain came in and it was 6 inches too long. Cue new curtain. The cute pink rug was really expensive. Cue pink bath mat from Bed Bath and Beyond. The beautiful mirror? Ix-nayed by the hubs. I was trying. But I just couldn't pull off the darling bathroom on the inspiration board.</div>
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We did find the tile at a price we could stomach and installation wasn't that much more, considering they were already there to install the kitchen tile. So we took the plunge. BEST DECISION. The floor makes the bathroom!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCfAAjBF-JAhjXa26dpWUUXYYgZQTlfNC2avqu4GUSKCTjbPXerZLc064RSH1_LCU7biINCGWXseAunTH2KOc-9gc0u481cvJiqxzKvHz4p5Om11ULgBmQCJ8wCG87XTYk089bRtT8CyM/s1600/IMG_4089.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCfAAjBF-JAhjXa26dpWUUXYYgZQTlfNC2avqu4GUSKCTjbPXerZLc064RSH1_LCU7biINCGWXseAunTH2KOc-9gc0u481cvJiqxzKvHz4p5Om11ULgBmQCJ8wCG87XTYk089bRtT8CyM/s640/IMG_4089.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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I also FINALLY and ON A WHIM found the knobs I'd been searching for for MONTHS at Hobby Lobby. {{{swooooon}}}<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHE18nrwjMU3l3cE3M90N9gEvpLgBQTCL5tBYu45HulYJdALexgYgz9b1g0OsyVYO-1FIpeQ2WxzfIbbyqAoFMupQQKA5ice7mTaJWlHWQV3caJeeC8f7Uox_l2lXwCKW60t9KU86Ryqw/s1600/IMG_3940.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHE18nrwjMU3l3cE3M90N9gEvpLgBQTCL5tBYu45HulYJdALexgYgz9b1g0OsyVYO-1FIpeQ2WxzfIbbyqAoFMupQQKA5ice7mTaJWlHWQV3caJeeC8f7Uox_l2lXwCKW60t9KU86Ryqw/s640/IMG_3940.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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And I settled into this bathroom redo with some satisfaction. I wasn't done yet, but I was okay with what I stared at each time I walked to my bedroom. <br />
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UNTIL. One day I went antique shopping with that now-famous friend, Carol. I was telling her that I loved the idea she had given me for updating my mirror with cedar wood planks. I'm good with a saw, but I'm not a master angle cutter. I don't have a table saw!<br />
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And then she did it once again. She told me I didn't need angles! (What?? I'm a little {ok maybe a lot} OCD and tend to a be a box thinker. You mean I could do this with straight lines??)<br />
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I went straight home that day and started measuring.<br />
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I went to Lowe's where they cut the wood for me. (Did you know they'll do that?? YES! For free!)<br />
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I brought those babies home and stained them right up! And then with a little liquid nails and the resolve of a woman in need of new shoes, I MADE THAT THING HAPPEN. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOHRUx7QzkE6YtKbjvWQMkwPW06i-6JHqjt7lSk309EaynqM7f7jhTIf47QG2ZGu0Y3PLMLFpnA2mfpy0G1TS-cPJ6O1pVdORFkcT3lIY4VmEQ2S83kx_eHvBmaCOJVdDTeuhsr12QE68/s1600/IMG_3930.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOHRUx7QzkE6YtKbjvWQMkwPW06i-6JHqjt7lSk309EaynqM7f7jhTIf47QG2ZGu0Y3PLMLFpnA2mfpy0G1TS-cPJ6O1pVdORFkcT3lIY4VmEQ2S83kx_eHvBmaCOJVdDTeuhsr12QE68/s640/IMG_3930.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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Now, what you see here are the two sides of a cedar wood. I stained both to see which look I preferred. I used the rough side but either are beautiful, really.</div>
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Once I had them up, I taped them down with painters tape to keep them in place overnight. I glued the wood directly onto the mirror. And voila! In the morning it was like a new room. </div>
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Then I added this bench and crate I found in a vintage store in OKC and BOOM. Room done. For now.....<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270050784825754861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097718933604643595.post-21934181593769121572015-07-13T10:47:00.002-05:002015-07-13T10:47:54.832-05:00vanilla anyone?I'm doing it again! I'm making homemade vanilla. <br />
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I've done this before on my blog, but it's been some time now and it was on my old blog! So now that we're having to think ahead for Christmas gifts, I'm sharing it with you here. Let's get working!<br />
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A few notes before we begin:<br />
1. Making homemade vanilla is extremely easy, but not super fast in prep time. Be prepared to spend some time on this.... maybe an hour? Ok, pretty fast, but not <i>that</i> fast. <br />
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2. Patience, grasshopper. It will steep for 6 months. Don't start this if you need vanilla in 2 months. It won't be ready. This is why we prepare for Christmas in July. :)<br />
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3. Vanilla beans come in all types. I have done this enough to have a preference. Bourbon. I'm not a fan of Tahitian or Madagascar beans. But you can choose whichever sound yummy to you! That's the best part!<br />
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4. All vodka is created equal. Buy the cheap stuff. Trust me on this. One year I got the pricey stuff to see if it was superior and guess what. It was not. Don't waste your money on that. Put your money into the cute labels you'll be buying later on <a href="https://www.etsy.com/search?q=2%20inch%20round%20labels" target="_blank">etsy</a>.<br />
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5. When it's time to harvest your vanilla from the gallon jar, you'll need brown glass jars. This protects your vanilla for long lasting use. You can get those <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B003G2ZXHO?psc=1&redirect=true&ref_=oh_aui_detailpage_o01_s00" target="_blank">here</a> if you'd like.<br />
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6. The total cost on these jars in the end will amount to about $8 each, between the vodka, beans, jars, and labels. This isn't a cheap project, but it IS a great gift to give friends any time of year! And they love to receive them!<br />
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7. And last, what we're making here is not a vanilla extract. It's technically a vanilla marinade, because we are not extracting the beans, we are steeping them. The great thing about this method is that you can use this for more than just baking! This vanilla can be added to a coke or ice cream! It will have those yummy little flecks of bean in it. So don't freak out when you see them later. ;)<br />
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OKAY! We're ready to start!<br />
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<b>You will need:</b><br />
1 gallon jar with a lid<br />
3/4 pound of vanilla beans (I buy mine on amazon)<br />
2 half gallons of vodka<br />
scissors<br />
<i>yields: 13- 8 oz. bottles of vanilla</i><br />
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You will begin cutting your beans from the bottom up until you nearly reach the end. Don't cut them completely in half. <br />
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Drop these into the gallon jar.<br />
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Now you're almost done! Poor in those bottles of vodka and close the lid. Place that wonderful gallon of yumminess-in-the-making into a cool dry place in your kitchen and walk away.<br />
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Each month between now and December, you should come back to that fun jar and invert it a few times. Then put it back again and walk away. You'll note that each month the liquid will get darker and darker. It's working! And do you know why? When you sliced those babies up, it exposed the flecks of vanilla inside the bean. Did you see it?<br />
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So, when you've allowed your vanilla to sit for 6 months, you can begin assembling your products. Take 2-3 beans from the gallon jar and put them in each brown bottle. Then pour the vanilla in with a funnel, slap your darling label on, maybe a ribbon or two, and voila! You're done! Let the gift giving begin. And don't forget to save a bottle for yourself!<br />
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<i>oops. looks like i'm in need of a refill!</i></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270050784825754861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097718933604643595.post-17105002419495030222015-06-30T10:47:00.000-05:002015-06-30T10:47:04.001-05:003 quick tips to love your homeI love to decorate. I've been nesting in my homes since I had my first little apartment. I would wake up on Saturdays and clean my little space from top to bottom. And then I would sit down and watch Martha Stewart's show and be inspired. Occasionally I would attempt one of her projects, if I could afford the materials. I was a teacher after all, in 1995. And starting salaries were around $24,000. Eek. I could stretch a penny like the best of 'em.<br />
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As I've grown older in my adult years, my tastes have changed. Can you relate? Just getting on pinterest can make me want to redecorate an entire room. So mostly I stay off these days. It's not good for the soul. Too much coveting. :) But I do still enjoy fluffing my nest! And that's where you come in. I'm going to share with you three keys to fluffing your own nest, according to mrs. frakes. These tips come from years of studying magazines, reading about decorating, and asking questions of my wiser, more swanky decorating friends. <i> I am not a professional interior designer, but I did stay at a Holiday Inn Express last night.</i><br />
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1. <b><i>Fill your home with pieces you love.</i></b> <br />
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I'm all about a good bargain. And I love Hobby Lobby! But I use those kinds of stores for crafts, not decor. Don't fill your home with pieces to fill space. Only buy things you LOVE. That means that when you are on a trip, find one fun knick-knack or piece of art that you can incorporate into your home and bring it back. It will be fun to look at later and recall the joy you had on that vacation. <br />
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Or, when you are with friends visiting that little tea shop or craft show, find something that makes you smile and bring it home. People ask me where I find the things I decorate with. The real question is where do I not find these things? I look everywhere because I love to mix sparkle with rustic and everything in between. There is no shop or estate sale that I think is beneath me. Now, I may not find anything that speaks to me, but I will look anywhere. Especially for a good deal. :) My favorite places to shop are estate sales and antique/vintage shops in tiny towns. <i>That</i>, my friends, is where you find the real gems.<br />
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<i>Frame: vintage shop in Noble, Oklahoma</i></div>
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<i>Buckets: <a href="http://antiquefarmhouse.com/">antiquefarmhouse.com</a></i></div>
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<i>Chicken Wire: Lowes</i></div>
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<i>Fabric: Hancocks</i></div>
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<i>Fleur de Lis: Canton, Texas</i></div>
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<i>Assembled by moi</i></div>
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2. <b><i>The devil is in the details.</i></b><br />
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Ever since I was a small child I was obsessed with tiny toys. The smaller, the better. And even when my daughter was a little, I forced my love on her in the form of a toy called Polly Pockets. Oh yes, they were fun to play with. We spent hours on her floor dressing up our tiny ladies.<br />
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In decorating, the small details get noticed. You may not realize it, but if you walked into a home filled with giant planters and huge floral arrangements, it could seem very beautiful and regal. But it probably wouldn't seem like a house someone lives in. Now, I don't know about you, but I actually live in the house where I sleep. That's why you may pop in and see we've got laundry laying around and shoes waiting to find their closet. We may even have dishes in the sink and a toilet that needs to be flushed (<i>ugh. the boys!</i>). As much as I feel healed of my earlier-in-life OCD, it still creeps up on me. I try hard to have a lovely home at all times, but it just doesn't happen. So I decorate in ways that distract the visitor from the flaws surrounding us. I have gallery walls and good lighting and cute rugs. I fill my galvanized stand with cute small things. And hopefully all they notice is the overall effect, not the temporary mess.<br />
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<i>Too many things to tag here, but let's just say they range from Pottery Barn to anthropologie to my mom's garage and Target. Those little flags? You know you need one that says "but first coffee" too. You can find those cuties on etsy <a href="https://www.etsy.com/shop/MelissaAnneCompany" target="_blank">here</a>.</i></div>
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3. <b><i>Patience is a virtue.</i></b><br />
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I like being liked. So don't go telling your spouse that I told you to get out there and GO SHOPPING! While I believe in picking things up here, there, and yonder, I don't condone doing it all at once. Please don't go on a shopping spree and blame it on this mama. The key to decorating your home in a way you love is to do it slowly, over time. Remember: one little piece at a time.<br />
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And did I mention? Don't buy fun decor only if you have a certain spot to put it in. It's okay to buy speculatively! Most things I buy have no specific place to go once I get them home. I <i>find</i> a place for them. That means things get moved around frequently. And <i>that's okay too</i>! Don't be afraid to mix things up.<br />
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If you need help mixing things up, let me know. I love this stuff! If you're local, I'll come help you in a heartbeat! Everyone should love the home they have.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270050784825754861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097718933604643595.post-14821426705480547202015-06-29T10:27:00.003-05:002015-06-29T10:27:24.924-05:00house #7There was no reason to leave House #6 except our desire to have a little more room. So throughout the years we would look at "house porn." For us, that's a website that shows all (or most) of the houses for sale in our area with photo tours of the houses called <a href="http://openhouseok.com/">openhouseok.com</a>. <br />
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It always seemed that when one of us found "the house of our dreams", the other had to talk them down off the ledge. <i>It's not the right time. That house costs too much. We're not in a position to do a fixer upper.</i> Or it had what we came to call a FATAL FLAW.<br />
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The fatal flaw is the one aspect of a house that we couldn't even consider buying it because of. For instance, the house was out in the country.... fatal flaw. The house had 3 bedrooms.... fatal flaw. The kitchen had a horrible layout... or was too small... or the backyard was 10 feet deep... You get the picture. These were all fatal flaws along the way.<br />
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Until one day back in January. Mister saw a house online that had no interior pictures. And it wasn't on our usual website. But it promised large square footage, in a desirable neighborhood in town (near our current house), and space for everyone. We needed to go see it in order to find the fatal flaw.<br />
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But when we walked in, all we saw was potential. Here was a house that had three bedrooms downstairs that were perfect for a master suite, office, and guest room, plus two huge rooms upstairs already painted the colors our kids needed. They had their own bathroom! They were across the house from our master bedroom! There's a neighborhood pool! The list of must-haves to move us out of our settled state kept getting ticked off.<br />
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And that's when the big move began. The rest, as they say, is history.<br />
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<i>home sweet home</i></div>
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Thank you for following along in our story. Thank you for encouraging me. Thank you for reading my blog! <br />
Now, it's time to talk turkey. How a teacher learned to decorate a home with what she had. Hopefully you'll stay on this ride with me. Hopefully you'll be inspired. And hopefully you'll be encouraged to decorate your own home in a way that brings joy to your days. <br />
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We all live in a dream home. Some are big, some are small, but they all contain the lives we were purposed to live. Let's get decorating!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270050784825754861noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097718933604643595.post-21361618979552125042015-06-09T09:48:00.001-05:002015-06-10T08:13:28.273-05:00house #6You've heard the saying "Pride comes before the fall."<br />
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That's exactly how that last house went down. We had spent so much time remodeling and decorating that in the end we were extremely prideful of our home. We loved showing it to other people. And we loved hearing how much people liked it. <br />
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However, as much as I loved that house, I also loved not being bankrupt. And we knew that was the next thing coming if we stuck around in our pride and waited out the storm in our lives. We knew we had to go and we hated telling our friends. WHAT? WHY??, they would ask. Of course we didn't want to have to dive into all the gory details so we sufficed it to say that we just needed to downsize. Everyone thought we were crazy. But we knew we were crazy like a fox. We were going to survive this and we were about to learn a big lesson about ourselves and our pride.<br />
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We quickly chose a house on the opposite side of town and moved in 3 days before Christmas. It was a whirlwind, getting moved in. A snow came unexpectedly, and we threw up a tree with no ornaments, invited all our friends over and let them put their name on a clear glass ball and hang it on our tree. Our friends and family had pulled us through that rough move, they deserved a special place on our tree that year. The humility of sharing our new, smaller, older home was painful, but important.<br />
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So this is where you might have come into our story. You probably met us while we lived there, having no idea of the crazy tale in our wake. We had you over for meals, football parties, or a just a beer on the patio. We liked to say that this house was not everything we wanted, but it was everything we needed. God gave us that house. And He taught us many things there.<br />
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In many ways, this house held the <i>actual </i>glory years of our marriage. But it also held the saddest and most disparaging times. <br />
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When we first moved in, Mister quit his job. We had no idea at the time how long it would take for him to get a new one. We had done this before. We could do it again. <br />
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Months passed. Depression set in. I remember the day we sat down and looked at each other. "I can go back to work," I said. "I'm able and willing." It was a last resort, but we didn't want to deplete our entire life savings too quickly, and we had no idea how long it would take for him to become gainfully employed again.<br />
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So off to teaching I went. I had sold EVERYTHING I had when I went into "retirement" that first time. There was a learning curve, since <i>things had changed</i> since I'd been a stay-at-home mom. But I settled into this new way of living. It gave our family health insurance and offset the hemorrhaging of money each month. We were finding our way.<br />
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Those were hard times. VERY HARD. Mister was not himself, as most bread winners wouldn't be when going unemployed for months on end. A critical turning point arrived one day like an answer to prayer. He sat me down, looked me in the eye and said "I think I have a contentment issue. I'm realizing now that all these houses have taught me something. I kept thinking the next house would be the right one. The next car would make me happier. And yet none of that has brought me any extra sense of joy. I need to learn to be content right where I am."<br />
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Amen, brother. In that house we learned to lean on each other. That when one was down, the other would hold them up. We danced in the minefields. We learned to love each other on the deepest level possible. We dropped to our knees for our marriage and God sustained us.<br />
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In April I was having quiet time, reading my bible, when I suddenly heard from God. It was not a voice, just a sudden feeling.... "Mister will get a job in my time, Kim. But it's not in any industry that he's currently seeking. You have no idea the career I'm about to lead him into." He had been pursuing pharmaceutical sales and home building sales for months. Nothing was panning out. Until he got a call in November. It was a college friend who worked with a commercial cleaning company. Would he like to chat?<br />
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Was this a joke? A cleaning job? Mister went in and came home to tell me all about it. He'd be selling accounts. No cleaning, he would hire people to do that. Could it be as lucrative as they made it sound? Surely this wasn't for real.<br />
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And yet it was. His first paycheck was $400. And today he runs a business that bills $2 million yearly. God is good. He found a career for my husband that fits his personality perfectly. There are jokes that get made every day about cleaning toilets, he gets to sell (which is his gift), and he doesn't have to do the dirty work. haha.<br />
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Yes, God is good. We stayed put in that house for 7 years. We lived the best and the worst of life there. And God blessed us indeed. There was finally no reason to move.....<br />
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This little beaut has new carpet and is looking for a new owner, by the way. If you're interested, or know someone who might be, you just LET ME KNOW. I will <i>hook them up!</i> ;)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270050784825754861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097718933604643595.post-55421608919856064232015-06-01T18:57:00.000-05:002015-06-01T18:57:04.027-05:00house #5House #5 is an interesting house in our journey. It began a season of hard times in our marriage. In fact, this is the house story that the mister said he may not want to read about on my blog. And that's okay. It will be hard for me to write about actually.<br />
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While we were livin' the dream on little ol' Poppy Lane, we bought house #5. It was January of 2007 and we paid a measly $147,000 for a 3,000 square foot home. Wow, huh? It was in bad shape, to be fair, and the minute we walked in, I felt a sick feeling in my stomach. I looked around at the potential and I couldn't shake the feeling of dread. I had never been afraid of a move or a remodel or a build before, so I couldn't figure out why it felt so wrong.<br />
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<i>after photos of the front elevation</i></div>
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The mister was so excited for the vision he could see, so we rolled full steam ahead. We had just sold three of our rental houses for a great profit and needed a place to invest our money. Unfortunately, we got some VERY BAD advice from a lawyer who told us we could roll it into that house. We asked multiple times, but he kept assuring us it was fine. So we did....<br />
<br />
Then we took our life savings at that point and started tearing out walls, ripping up carpet, and remodeling our "new" home. We were "building" our dream home. This was the house, we declared, that we would grow old in. We pulled out all the stops and incorporated every beautiful idea we had seen in magazines. We were falling in love with our blood, sweat, and tears. We had reached the pinnacle of life. Or so we thought.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Wq79KqsjGfAdsMuZ-uw3HkdopZjjF8-ikeY5r3hwQm7h55dVARw3JNs7v4KSKYw72IKbN5aCnyGunz5op_-K86T7DK52OsF7MOdVybtiPmd8R8RGV4GSRPcpCAQF9xcWnFgGITxNqnY/s1600/Before+Photos+006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Wq79KqsjGfAdsMuZ-uw3HkdopZjjF8-ikeY5r3hwQm7h55dVARw3JNs7v4KSKYw72IKbN5aCnyGunz5op_-K86T7DK52OsF7MOdVybtiPmd8R8RGV4GSRPcpCAQF9xcWnFgGITxNqnY/s640/Before+Photos+006.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i>before (above)</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4lvc3DdxxppJkEU6WnUg_yQJP0EKdsw6hfd4Kq2WE0drwAtjjrJiFExosfdLQ6mWUHioCe6oJxsq0THZf4jHqIyTdLU-VtuWSMVlg9HbArTn7E6sE6xroJkL4eYomGxJ1OZVWP3ghXxI/s1600/IMGP5497.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4lvc3DdxxppJkEU6WnUg_yQJP0EKdsw6hfd4Kq2WE0drwAtjjrJiFExosfdLQ6mWUHioCe6oJxsq0THZf4jHqIyTdLU-VtuWSMVlg9HbArTn7E6sE6xroJkL4eYomGxJ1OZVWP3ghXxI/s640/IMGP5497.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5UPFLrq7ojPU8DnncI8SDE4Dw1k-01pOMXJ0drVnykz4ndtUjpNKgoFw9p6ebYnz4-lH2AOQa14iq4Yt9I-iYxdjXZLycxzq5niDc3bKXT8_r44taNnEFRYS_4Y-0ol3TmDAiv56IKXk/s1600/IMGP5502.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5UPFLrq7ojPU8DnncI8SDE4Dw1k-01pOMXJ0drVnykz4ndtUjpNKgoFw9p6ebYnz4-lH2AOQa14iq4Yt9I-iYxdjXZLycxzq5niDc3bKXT8_r44taNnEFRYS_4Y-0ol3TmDAiv56IKXk/s640/IMGP5502.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<i>after (above)</i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwwhQh3GTIZjLPDpe39HKXxdNR0U0_XQOyTuyxnTWiNxcGtvV2MSjVb9BqWlvg9cIc0QdxnYd24Y-0F48AdxFdtRc3n21DYb3J1rUTu3X2gM2GCph6O2PX87EsfsQrz0p0AJ39b3XsxWQ/s1600/Before+Photos+001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwwhQh3GTIZjLPDpe39HKXxdNR0U0_XQOyTuyxnTWiNxcGtvV2MSjVb9BqWlvg9cIc0QdxnYd24Y-0F48AdxFdtRc3n21DYb3J1rUTu3X2gM2GCph6O2PX87EsfsQrz0p0AJ39b3XsxWQ/s640/Before+Photos+001.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i>before</i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8KQyShdJCm3NYf55GJ5cO-QtRhyphenhyphen-nb3PAlmWUUXrRww9ui820fvbVLt9u5VlY33rnO78P5e7p-Pt7obbBSue5p2D4v2piE_exIVeZ0i1cLl6zRA5_LfGRaZLKtfQ4ANya8hw9kVl-gWA/s1600/IMGP5469.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8KQyShdJCm3NYf55GJ5cO-QtRhyphenhyphen-nb3PAlmWUUXrRww9ui820fvbVLt9u5VlY33rnO78P5e7p-Pt7obbBSue5p2D4v2piE_exIVeZ0i1cLl6zRA5_LfGRaZLKtfQ4ANya8hw9kVl-gWA/s640/IMGP5469.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i>after</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDDgy7lFZXV5lXimKgxdT4jOduuSGWYMMJWkD5dmMIzexT4MVx-cRIwecuy9L-_NNNCohzaCwLawYfDfk2OQwkFrQcR2NkhYyt9kkK_bIyC8hfGu-nFcGxCGwjmaIchxZzsFA_L6QKns4/s1600/1709+Wellesley+012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDDgy7lFZXV5lXimKgxdT4jOduuSGWYMMJWkD5dmMIzexT4MVx-cRIwecuy9L-_NNNCohzaCwLawYfDfk2OQwkFrQcR2NkhYyt9kkK_bIyC8hfGu-nFcGxCGwjmaIchxZzsFA_L6QKns4/s640/1709+Wellesley+012.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i>before</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLjRsme7xXyNggASNJNkj0VgEIepd3DvS2JbfK54Ec3oWAOVIGIGiT3ohp57yQe8B1S35XfQIgX5Vxnt4-mVtlsBHqjvI2v0aaB7FnVArcoQXbuUckEgnWtgI5DnN2dEb2ryD7CpnyWWQ/s1600/IMGP5450.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLjRsme7xXyNggASNJNkj0VgEIepd3DvS2JbfK54Ec3oWAOVIGIGiT3ohp57yQe8B1S35XfQIgX5Vxnt4-mVtlsBHqjvI2v0aaB7FnVArcoQXbuUckEgnWtgI5DnN2dEb2ryD7CpnyWWQ/s640/IMGP5450.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i>after (above and below)</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVFUxHsll77QLKZu55HduX0D5v1OTCOCHWUCmjFRZIVsirC7h7fTpIAg7hwdmoZNHQwmeAu8RHj33AG2193oFHucTHvlXLyeRgtLDZrVqQeS4cV8TA0V3NasdrnA3ZBLR2HuS6710-kso/s1600/IMGP5447.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVFUxHsll77QLKZu55HduX0D5v1OTCOCHWUCmjFRZIVsirC7h7fTpIAg7hwdmoZNHQwmeAu8RHj33AG2193oFHucTHvlXLyeRgtLDZrVqQeS4cV8TA0V3NasdrnA3ZBLR2HuS6710-kso/s640/IMGP5447.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs9ABmdzbThIXwx8GARnjf1IV2ENpQZGkIoCU8oKwBM0okm1XU8GTHN2GNVNB36IffIza6beNCX1_yqR5W4kUR6ePL3begimKbk5jxY7PbwtDupdRzoba01RHQHm2lWQYbPHwTetrD5t8/s1600/Before+Photos+008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs9ABmdzbThIXwx8GARnjf1IV2ENpQZGkIoCU8oKwBM0okm1XU8GTHN2GNVNB36IffIza6beNCX1_yqR5W4kUR6ePL3begimKbk5jxY7PbwtDupdRzoba01RHQHm2lWQYbPHwTetrD5t8/s640/Before+Photos+008.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<i>before (powder room) </i> </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdZDBl8RDDe4QqvLPNFAj2kN_ovytoNENfadCq23UF0ctByvQZbllXE_4jcT_En6cwFoM51TayYAN3qOI_LZwtz8uMAysUGKkLUBZaR0mLLXtJgNENnpclhATgygJT2_HH3ASTW2Ymi4Y/s1600/IMGP5515.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdZDBl8RDDe4QqvLPNFAj2kN_ovytoNENfadCq23UF0ctByvQZbllXE_4jcT_En6cwFoM51TayYAN3qOI_LZwtz8uMAysUGKkLUBZaR0mLLXtJgNENnpclhATgygJT2_HH3ASTW2Ymi4Y/s640/IMGP5515.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<i>after (see those tiles? Those are paintings of Norman monuments. Yah, you can't take those with you when you leave.)</i></div>
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It took 9 months to finish the projects we took on and in August of that year, we moved into our dream home. The pool was power washed, painted and filled. It was decked and decorated and beginning to be enjoyed, just as summer came to an end.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWv1qwUV6uqYrkf0LVfysXX5wTRI6FbQUs_bLfKv_ObiDFCWBSYOcWpkGk9z9sKhlbFUYiATOV1HQQn2sqaL2M4H2rVuK8hWYtW4LdywO5YkXEsabqZBv9fh09cXtdsJeIYxFyJ3I653A/s1600/1709+Wellesley+002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWv1qwUV6uqYrkf0LVfysXX5wTRI6FbQUs_bLfKv_ObiDFCWBSYOcWpkGk9z9sKhlbFUYiATOV1HQQn2sqaL2M4H2rVuK8hWYtW4LdywO5YkXEsabqZBv9fh09cXtdsJeIYxFyJ3I653A/s640/1709+Wellesley+002.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
before</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6MpYuEk9n6L7265Itp9Guk0zJ-Aw1aCCDWMItr2Y5R5SLvBil_a-7WItmCplj1liQ0ypOYm4lfsooeMwAB1EUyCBWI82bJoJ52POM7AzVsW6KFP-YHTCMSjiDPiY8o1pAIVpS95mDevg/s1600/Misc+001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6MpYuEk9n6L7265Itp9Guk0zJ-Aw1aCCDWMItr2Y5R5SLvBil_a-7WItmCplj1liQ0ypOYm4lfsooeMwAB1EUyCBWI82bJoJ52POM7AzVsW6KFP-YHTCMSjiDPiY8o1pAIVpS95mDevg/s640/Misc+001.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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after (above and below)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiugrBZi7WGrwusOrYKv-LiVHmv6wL7TcLTFy-9KE70q4o-JcoA15mDs0IGGXCELX9sF8bh2HyTDjc18NYRKpmbEOUf1rL_isf7oNZQETR5aQNIS3lTydu8-oeUbIR4Ivz40akBAoWifz0/s1600/Misc+003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiugrBZi7WGrwusOrYKv-LiVHmv6wL7TcLTFy-9KE70q4o-JcoA15mDs0IGGXCELX9sF8bh2HyTDjc18NYRKpmbEOUf1rL_isf7oNZQETR5aQNIS3lTydu8-oeUbIR4Ivz40akBAoWifz0/s640/Misc+003.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>WE EVEN PUT IN NEW GRASS, PEOPLE. THIS WAS HARDCORE REMODELING AT ITS FINEST.</i></div>
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I'll never forget that first night we laid our heads on the pillows of our new beautiful bedroom. Mister rolled toward me and uttered the words that remain in our history forever now. "We are SO FAR OUT HERE. I don't know if I can stand this." While it was true, the house he had chosen was on the far northeast part of town, it was heartbreaking to hear. I knew in that moment that our time in this house was limited.<br />
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Our daughter started kindergarten and I was enjoying time with my son each morning. Life was plugging along. Mister was selling homes for his brother; he was relatively happy. And YET....<br />
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The next summer we made a shocking discovery. Electricity COSTS A LOT OF MONEY. Our home was completely electric. That had been fine in the winter before, but now we were paying to cool a large house with two air conditioning units, as well as running a pool pump 24 hours a day because of the heat. Our electricity was costing us $800 per month, barely less than our tiny mortgage. Here we were, in our biggest house yet, with the smallest mortgage we'd ever had. We were doing okay until we got audited by the IRS for that ridiculous thing we did called <i>rolling money into a mortgage that we should have paid the taxes on first.</i> I found myself wishing we could sue a lawyer for bad advice. <br />
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Additionally, the housing market was beginning to sink. Selling houses slowed down, almost to a stop, and my brother in law was in jeopardy of losing his business. Mister wanted to leave his job so he wasn't a burden to his brother.<br />
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All of these circumstances led us to one conclusion. Time to go.<br />
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We put our dream home on the market in October of that year. It sold 7 days later.<br />
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We had to find a new home and we had to find it fast. Mister was quitting his job soon. We needed to qualify for our new house before we had no income. And we needed our life savings to be freed from that home so we could live on it. I was a stay-at-home mom and we had no idea how long he would go without a job.<br />
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We started the depressing process of packing up our home....Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270050784825754861noreply@blogger.com2