Generational sins

Today I keep thinking of a saying my Pastor repeats quite often.

"What you do in moderation, your children will do in excess."

I caught myself doing a vain thing, and excused myself by saying, "It's all in moderation."

Then that saying came back to haunt me.

"What you do in moderation, your children will do in excess."

Do I want my (Lord willing) future children to copy me in everything?

Um...gulp...no. Most things, yes. Everything? No. I shiver at the thought. They can copy my strengths all they like, but I hope they don't inherit my weaknesses.

But, "What you do in moderation, your children will do in excess."

So...do I want my vanity to become full-blown arrogance and pride in my children? No.

Do I want my private longings to become open selfishness in my children? No!

Do I want my stingy giving to become greed?

Do I want my "independence" to become rebellion in my children?

Will "indulgences" become addiction to entertainment?

Will sarcasm become cutting words?

Somehow I want to make excuses for myself, but I want my children to be perfect. Looking at things from the perspective of several generations makes everything more serious. I can understand why people say that when you become a parent, all of the sudden you grow up. When you realize that the health of your child's soul depends a great deal on you,...it makes a difference.

Lord, grant me grace to live in such a way that I can say, "Follow me as I follow Christ!"

Sugar Report

Okay - here is a summary of my two weeks without sugar, and then I promise I'll get off the sugar soapbox. For awhile.

Disclaimer:
I didn't go 2 weeks without eating refined sugar.

You know, of course, that I was allowing myself 1 meal each week to eat whatever I liked. I did that on Friday night for both weeks. I had pizza and ice cream, and one week I had a sip of Joe Beans' Iced Mocha as well. Mmmm!

Those were my permissible flumps. (Don't you like that word? I just made it up!)

I had a few other Cheat Moments.

#1 - The homemade chocolate cheesecake at a friend's party last Saturday. I held out through the cookies. And the chocolate raspberry truffles. And the pizza sauce for dipping the Stromboli. But when they sliced the cheesecake....I said "who cares?" and ate a small (very rich!) piece. Oh, It. Was. That. Good.

#2 - I ate a few dried dates that had sugar on them. (Honestly - who in the world thinks they need to sweeten dried dates, of all things? As if they weren't sweet enough?)

#3 - I almost gave in yesterday when Mom served fudge pie for Sunday dinner dessert. The only thing that kept me strong was knowing I'd have to blog about my naughtiness. (I knew there was something to the accountability theory!)

So, what did I observe, and what did I learn?

Well, I'm not sure which was hardest to abstain from; the known sweets (chocolate, ice cream, etc.) or the "hidden sugar" (bread, cereal, crackers, mayo, ketchup, spaghetti sauce, etc.) I certainly craved the desserts more, but the "regular food" was hardest to avoid. I was hard pressed to find food that I could eat.

And that surprised me a little bit.

For example, let's say you, like me, are "good about sugar." You don't drink soda, you don't munch candy bars, you dislike Pop Tarts, and love most any veggie. Great. Let's create a example menu and see what the sugar content is.

Breakfast: Granola
Lunch: Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwich
Supper: Lasagna, Salad, and Rolls (let's say you're good and you skip dessert)

Sounds okay, right?

That's what I thought before these past two weeks. But I can't argue with the math.

The math says that (depending on what brands and how many helpings you have), this menu supplies you with - are you ready? - 52 grams of refined sugar.

100 grams sugar = 20 tsp. sugar

So, 52 grams is about 10 tsp. .....

That's almost 1/4 cup of sugar.

Picture a quarter cup of sugar dumped onto the table. Now pick that up and ingest it.

And we thought we were "good with sugar"?

Enough with the depressing news.

Anyway - so my eyes were opened to the way sugar has invaded my diet. But I also learned that skipping dessert is possible.

And I learned all sorts of ways to sweeten food naturally. ...But I'm kinda sick of raisins. :) :) :)

All in all, I'm glad I did these two weeks. I feel good about it.

How will I eat tomorrow?

Well, my tongue craves some old-fashioned granola and chocolate, but my mind feels a little sick at the thought of what that means for my body. One TBS of sugar sounds like a TON. I think I view sugar in a whole different light now. Hopefully that lasts for awhile. I will definitely be looking into ways to limit my sugar, but I don't think I'll go cold-turkey. At least not yet.

How do you think a sugar fast would affect you if you did one?

Thoughts

This post struck home with me. Something about it moved my heart.

I had to share it.

http://lifewithabibliophobia.blogspot.com/2011/10/kaleidoscope.html

I'm happy about my shopping ...

So I must tell you about it!

Usually, I hate shoe shopping.

Gasp! Breathes there a girl who can say those four words and mean it?

Hello, folks, and my name is Amber.

Yes, I usually despise shoe shopping.

Not that I hate shoes. No, no. Don't believe that for a minute. I used to think I'd escaped the fatal feminine sickness of shoe-love, but I no longer labor under that delusion. I am now quite aware of my weakness for shoes. All the boxes are neatly stacked in the bottom of my closet. I won't say how many.

I do try to control myself. I don't want to be consumed with a love of fashion - there are too many more important things to think about! But I like pretty things, and when I can afford new pretty shoes without stealing funds from worthier causes, I like to get them.

So why do I hate shoe shopping?

It's a remnant of my past, I guess. Memories of spending hours as a young girl, wandering shoe store aisles with Mom, going from store to store, vainly searching for the perfect shoe. ...Melting in tears when I can't find it.

I'm very picky, you see. Very conservative (or shy) in my tastes. I remember one shoe-shopping trip where Mom could not accompany me, and Dad had to take me. When I came home, I told her, "Now I know Daddy is patient."

Anyway. I have bad associations with shoe-shopping. Shoe-shopping means tears, and a lot of wasted gas.

I'm also a cheap-skate. And shoes are not cheap. So I hated that part of it, too.

That explains why I ripped a hole in the bottom of my trusty black ballet flats back in September, and didn't go shopping for a new pair until this week. And I wore that old pair multiple times each week throughout this month. With a pea-size hole in the sole. Yes, I'm that cheap. And lazy. And that afraid of shoe shopping.

That couldn't last forever. I needed a pair of black flats. And a brown pair, as well, since the button on my old brown flats was hanging on by a few threads, and I regularly pulled the sole lining out when I removed my feet from the shoes. I literally remember wearing those shoes when I took the test for my driver's license...quite a few years ago.

Proof positive: I was afraid of shoe shopping.

But I knew I wasn't being frivolous this time. I needed shoes. ...So I began to get excited.

And God was with me in a special way on these trips. (Yes, I made two trips!) The first time, I spotted an exact copy (different brand)of my old pair of black flats. Right away. An identical brown pair was close by. On sale; buy two, get each one for $10.

A sign. It was meant to be.

I grabbed the boxes, bought them for $20, and took them home. Record time for a shoe shopping trip.

Just when I thought I might get excited about shoe shopping. I buy an exact copy of my old pair of shoes. How exciting.

Only problem was, one pair didn't fit. Exact same shoes - the brown ones fitted, the black ones didn't. Stubborn. Must have been related to that old pair.

So I went back today to exchange them. This time I was going to live a little. Find a different black flat style.

I walked into Show Show, and not only did I find a nice black flat, but I noticed a lot of sales going on. And I realized I wanted to have some fun. So I did. I tried shoes on I never would have tried on before, strutted the aisle (it was empty!) in front of the mirror, played dress up, and shed not one tear.

I came home with 3 pairs of shoes. Plus the brown ones at home.

I don't have photos, but I looked online for similar pictures:
#1 - Brown flats:

They look exactly like this, but are a different brand.
(Incidentally, my hated old black flats looked just like this, too.)

#2 - Fun plaid shoe (summer shoe on sale):

This isn't really close...the plaid is like this, but the style is different.
Picture a ballet flat in these colors...sorta. More of a "sailor shoe" than a ballet flat.

#3 - Needed black flats:

Something like this, only with a ribbon ruffle on the toe,
and polka-dots inside (Don't you love those little touches only you see?
My pair is TONS cuter:

#4 - And, last but not least, my personal favorite. A pair of red heels. I've secretly wanted one for years, but I'm not a heels girl. Too uncomfortable, and I don't like the "swing" they add to your walk. But these are supportive, comfortable, and even my mother agrees they aren't so high that they add any swing. I love them. Wish I had an actual picture. Imagine:

Something styled like this:

With colors like this, in patent leather:

(Now you know I'm lazy when it comes to taking pictures and uploading them.)

Best of all?


Remember how I said I'm cheap?

I'm rejoicing.

I got 4 pairs of shoes.

Normal cost: $82.96

Way beyond my price range for an impulsive shopping spree.

Guess what I paid after sales?

$33.00

For 4 pairs of shoes.

That's less than $10.00 a pair, in case you didn't do the math.

Yes Ma'am. I'm happy.



P.S. I forgot to add: I came home and had a party and threw the old black flats in the trash, and got rid of the old brown flats, and gave away two more pairs of shoes - so I got 4, and got rid of 4! Pretty good for a girl who likes shoes, huh?

Two Flavors

So....yesterday night was hard.

Supper was green beans, rice, and slow cooker chicken. It was yummy! The chicken was especially good, and I enjoyed a whole leg, which is a lot for me. I usually have just a bite or two of meat with my meal. (Yeah, I know that's pitiful.) I knew I didn't need to save room for dessert, so I filled up. I even had seconds on rice, which is another unusual occurrence for me. (I've developed a habit of skimping on the good food so I have plenty of room for a big dessert. One reason I knew I needed to do this "sugar fast." ...This look even worse in print.)

At the end of the meal, my tummy was full, but my tongue wasn't. I roamed the kitchen like a crazy girl, looking for something sweet I could eat. I'm so accustomed to that sweetness to finish off a meal! I finally settled for a dried fig.

Here's a list of foods to help satisfy that sweet ache:
Raisins
Dried figs or prunes
Dried fruit, if there's no sugar added (hard to find, with some brands)
Blueberries, 'specially good if they're frozen
Strawberries
Nuts can help, too, though they aren't sweet

I've come to a definite conclusion. Americans are programed to enjoy only two taste sensations; sweetness and saltiness.

Think about it - almost every food we eat has sugar added, from pizza sauce to bread. The foods that aren't sugar-enhanced are the savory type, and they all have salt added. Canned veggies, soups, lunch meat, chips, etc., all taste strongly of salt, but unless you're used to eating those foods without salt, you don't notice that flavor. The flavor you expect from canned beets, for instance, comes mainly from the salt in the can. We think that's "beet taste," but if you cook up a garden beet and eat it, then take a bite of canned beets, you immediately notice that you aren't tasting true "beet" from the can. You're tasting salt. Our tongues automatically expect to taste either sugar or salt in every mouthful of food we eat. We don't even notice it any more. We think salt or sugar equals flavor.

Even if salt and sugar wasn't so disastrous for your health, wouldn't this still be a sad state of affairs? There are MILLIONS of flavors in the world - why mask them with the two we've been programmed to like best? These other flavors are milder, and with a tongue accustomed to the strong bite of salt and the pervasiveness of sugar, it's hard to pick up any deep taste, but once you avoid sugar and salt for awhile, I've been told you taste everything else much better.

Wouldn't it be worth it to avoid two flavors for the sake of experiencing zillions of others in their place?

...Not that I'm ready to give up salt and sugar entirely. I think some in moderation is enjoyable. But I am hoping that through my "experiment" these two weeks I will be able to enjoy some richer flavor in the foods I eat.

What do you think? Are we over-salted-and-sweeted?

Sweet Overkill

The USDA reports that the average American consumes anywhere between 150 to 170 pounds of refined sugars (this includes glucose, fructose, and sucrose) in one year.

That's a lot of sugar.

What does 150-170 pounds look like? Imagine 30 to 34 five-pound bags of sugar lined up next to each other on a counter. Now imagine eating all of that sugar. To break it down even more, eating 150-170 pounds of sugar in one year is also equivalent to consuming 1/4 to 1/2 pounds of sugar each day.

1/4 pound of sugar is equivalent to 30 teaspoons and 1/2 pound of sugar is equivalent to 60 teaspoons.

Studies have shown that consuming 75 to 100 grams of simple sugars (about 20 teaspoons of sugar - the amount found in two-and-a-half average 12 ounce cans of soda) can suppress the body's immune responses considerably. These sugars are known to create a 40 to 50% percent drop in the ability of white blood cells to kill bacteria and germs within the body. The immune-suppressing effect of sugar starts less than thirty minutes after ingestion and may last for five hours. By consuming 150 to 170 pounds of simple sugars each year, a person may have up to 80,000 hours of immune suppression!

(These facts were taken from: http://EzineArticles.com/2252026)

No wonder we are a sick society. And this isn't even taking into consideration that other effects of sugar - it's the leading cause of dental problems, and we all know what sugar can do to children's attention spans. There are studies that show that sugar feeds cancer cells, and causes heart problems.

Enough already.

I've always known sugar is bad for you. Refined sugar, that is. I know we need a little sugar in our bodies - it actually feeds the brain, I've been told. But that's natural sugar - the kind found in fruits, honey, and molasses. Refined sugars (white sugar, brown sugar, high fructose corn syrup, etc.) is not at all necessary. Your body survives much better without it.

As I said, I've known that for ages. I've tried to watch how much refined sugar I eat, and I thought I did pretty good. At 6 or 7 years old, I was famous in Sunday school for refusing any candy offered me. (Yes - you can say it...."health nut!")

Lately, however, I've gotten sloppy. My trouble with low blood sugar flared up again this year, and it just seems too easy to eat a few chocolate chips mid-morning, or nibble a piece of chocolate before bed. I've always loved ice cream. Chocolate chip cookies? Mmmmm! And my real weakness is "real food" that is chocked-full of sugar. Sweet potato casserole. Quick breads. Especially quick breads. Pumpkin bread, banana bread - you name it, I'll eat it 'til the cows come home.

And don't forget granola. That stuff could be served breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and I wouldn't complain.

All that has lots of sugar. It's addictive. Sugar is addictive. And yet it's so bad for you.

Wow. Now why does that sentence remind me of sin?

I can't snap my fingers and remove all the sin in my life, but I can try to do something about this sugar thing. I've become motivated to see if I can go for two weeks without putting any refined sugar in my body.

Do you have any idea how hard that can be in America? That not only means no chocolate or ice cream, but also no spaghetti sauce, salad dressings, store-bought bread, or granola!

Of course, there's still plenty left to choose from. God's a creative Creator, and He made plenty of "real" food that is delicious. It will be hard, but I fully believe it's possible. That's why I'm going to do it.

Two weeks. Cold Turkey. Nit-picky. Starting today.

Now for the big question - will you join me?

I'd love some accountability. And some companionship. Somebody to say "keep going!" and to tell me I'm not crazy.

Maybe cold turkey is a little much for you - but what about making a smaller commitment for these two weeks? Maybe you'll skip dessert every day. Or drink your coffee black. Anything to show us you're challenging yourself!

If you decide to do a challenge for these two weeks (Oct. 18- Nov. 1), please post a comment and tell us what it is.

If you want to join the same challenge I'm doing, let me tell you the rules I'm giving myself:

1 - The obvious; no refined sugars. This means I read the labels on everything, and if it contains any unnatural sugars, it's a no-no. I have a feeling I'll be eating a lot of from-scratch foods for awhile. :)
2 - You can "cheat" on one meal each week. (Don't you love making up your own rules?) I already know which meal I'm going to "cheat" on; Friday nights. It's our family pizza night, and I'd hate to miss out on that!
3 - Don't starve yourself. Be sure to fill up on good foods.


So what can we eat? Lots! Oatmeal sweetened with molasses and raisins, homemade bread made with honey, vegetables, baked potatoes, cheese, sour cream, apples, oranges, bananas, beans, noodles with herbs and butter, carrots, grilled chicken, meatloaf, fried potatoes, tuna-cheese-butter-and-lettuce sandwiches, hard boiled eggs, ...and much more!

If you discover a "hidden" source of sugar, that some of us might over look (like ketchup or BBQ sauce) post a comment to remind us! And be sure to post a comment if you join the challenge.

If you feel like it, post about the challenge on your own blog, to keep up your spirits.

On of the best parts about this challenge, I think, will be the new recipes we come up with. I've created one already! I had it for breakfast this morning. Shall I share?

Oven-baked French Toast

- 4 homemade rolls
- 2 eggs, slightly beaten
- 1/2 cup or so of milk
- lots of cinnamon
- 2 TBS molasses
- 1 TBS honey
- 1 TBS water

Slice the rolls into 1/4" slices. Layer in a 9x9 glass baking dish. Combine eggs, milk, and cinnamon. Pour over bread. Mix molasses, honey, and water. Drizzle evenly over bread. Cover and refrigerate overnight. In the morning, bake at 350 for 20 minutes, or until eggs set. Don't over bake.

This was delicious as-is; sorta like cinnamon french bread on the bottom, and gingerbread cookies softened in milk on the top, but next time I might add a TBS of melted butter to the molasses mixture, and pour it all in the bottom of the dish before I add the bread, eggs, and milk.

I'm also sprouting 1 1/2 cups of navy beans for a recipe later in the week. Start today if you want to try it! Sprouting is easy. ...but this post is long enough, so I won't give detailed instructions. Just google it. :)

Anyway....I am holding my breath for comments! Remember, if you meet this challenge, you've just escaped 3 1/2 POUNDS of sugar (or 420 tsp.) that would have been in your body if you ate the normal 1/4 pound a day.

Let's do it, folks!

I see the moon

One thing I love about night falling earlier this time of year is the chance I get to see the moon and stars whenever I come home from an evening outing. I routinely stand in the driveway and star-gaze for a few minutes before I can manage to break away and go indoors.

A few nights ago I was captivated once again by a nearly-full moon in a clear sky. I stood there in the driveway gazing up, gravel hurting my feet through the thin soles of my shoes, and the cool night air touching my arms. I could almost feel a cold-ish warmth from the moon, if you know what I mean. I wonder if a person's cheeks can moon-burn? Though I have seen it hundreds of times, I never get over the sheer amount of light the moon can reflect.

Nearly every time I see a full moon, I think about the science behind it. The moon is a ball of rock, dust, earth, and craters. No light source of its own. I know, in my head, that it reflects the sun, but that's so hard to imagine, in a dark sky. The sun is far away, on the other side of the world. How can it be causing this yellow glow I see?

I wondered, the other night, how the moon manages to reflect anything. It's dirt, after all. Grey, dusty, dirty dirt. How does dirt glow like that?

And then I couldn't help but think of myself.

I know the Great God. The King of kings. His glory far surpasses any earthly glow and beauty, even as glorious as the sun is. And I am made to reflect Him, in a dark sky. I am not a star - I don't have my own light source. I am a moon; a humble circular mass of grey rock and dirt. And I can't figure out how dirt is supposed to reflect light, but somehow it happens.

No credit to the moon, of course. It doesn't do anything. I mean, it sits there - or hangs there, rather. And it does have to be in line with the sun to catch its light. But really, all that glow comes entirely from the sun.

Of course, sometimes earth casts a shadow on the moon. When that happens, less of the surface of the moon is lit by the sun. A crescent moon doesn't even compare to the glowing radiance of a full moon.

A full moon is beautiful. The sun lends its stunning rays to this humble object, and manages to makes the dirt beautiful, while at the same time teaching the observer something about the nature of the sun itself. Even though the sun is hidden. Even though the sky is dark.

I think I'll stop here. I won't continue to explain for you the obvious parallel to be seen between the moon and ourselves. You'll see it - and feel it - all for yourself, if you will just go outside the next time there's a full moon to be seen, and stand there for awhile looking at it.

Beautiful dust. Because of a glorious Son.

"How to Cook Chinese/Japanese/ Filipino food at home"

To be honest, I don't know which this recipe is. The rice bit is (with minor adjustments by me) from my aunt , who is Filipino, but the rest is just what I thought smelled good and looked oriental. And it tastes FANTASTIC, if I may say so myself. A friend of mine saw this dish once and thought I had ordered it from a Japanese restaurant. And it must be sorta kinda authentic, since part of it came from my aunt, right?

I've never had restaurant-style oriental food (only dishes made by people from those countries - lucky me!), so I don't know if this tastes like what you would buy in a Japanese or Chinese restaurant. Make it yourself and tell me.

This recipe below makes one serving. Multiply it according to how many people you need to feed. Of course, like most cooking, it's very flexible. Add a little extra rice to make it stretch. Skimp on an egg or two if you don't have enough. And so on and so forth.

So...Here we go: (And, once again, I apologize for how wordy my recipes are. Can't help it!)

Orient Rice, Amber-Style

~ minced garlic (the kind you buy in a little jar in its own juice is so convenient! ...But you could chop fresh garlic too. Just be sure to chop tiny.)
~ 2 TBS butter, or a little less. Maybe 1 1/2 TBS
~ 1/2 cup cooked brown rice, one day old (the age is important so that it's not too moist.)
~ 1 egg (home-raised is best!)
~ 2 TBS ground beef, cooked with onions (Is your family like mine, where you cook up a bunch of ground beef with onions at one time, early in the week, and use it throughout the week for spaghetti, sloppy joes, soups, casseroles, etc.? I just grabbed a little bit from the fridge.)
~ 1 tsp. soy sauce (Please do measure this - just 1 tsp. is enough! Ever read the back of the bottle? 1 TBS gives you 38% of your daily salt allowance!)
~ 1 large carrot, scrubbed
~ 1/2 of one large green sweet pepper (fresh from the garden is delightful!)

Are you ready?
Directions: (Note - you will be making two parts for this dish - rice, and fried vegetables to go on top. Make the rice first and keep it warm, or, if you're talented, get the veggies going, and when they're almost done start the rice.)

Rice Directions:
Melt some of the butter (3/4 TBS or less) in a small frying pan. Once it is melted, turn your heat down to simmer and add a small scoop (1/4 tsp. or so, to taste) of minced garlic. Let that saute until the garlic is soft and smells wonderful. Don't let the butter get too brown. Keeping the heat low is key. Think slow cooking.

Add the cooked meat, and toss to coat in butter. Let it heat for a few moments. Turn the heat up to medium. Once it reaches the heat level you would use to cook eggs, continue.

Now, you want to do the next three additions quickly, so have them all ready. Have your rice measured out and ready to dump in, plus 3/4 tsp. of soy sauce and one egg.

Add the egg to the skillet and stir with a wooden spoon. You're making scrambled eggs. As soon as the egg starts to cook, add the rice and soy sauce. Stir continuously as the egg cooks. You want the rice to fry, but you don't want the egg to over-cook and be rubbery. Find that perfect moment of "doneness." And remember, eggs always continue to cook in their own heat once you take them off the stove, so stop a few moments before you think they're done.

Now, set the rice aside, but keep it warm until your veggie topping is ready.

Fried Vegetables Directions:
Chop your carrot and green pepper into 2.5" lengths. Then slice the pieces into strips. The strips should be thin, like a lasagna noodle, and about 1/4" wide. Now melt your remaining butter in a larger fry pan, and saute a small amount of garlic until soft. Turn heat up to medium. Add remaining soy sauce (about 1/4 tsp.) and the carrots. Let the carrots cook for 2-3 minutes, to give them a head start, since they're crisper, and then add the green pepper. Fry until the veggies are soft and limp, and just starting to caramelize around the edges. (Mmmmm!) Remove from heat and serve over the rice.

Try to restrain yourself.

Enjoy!

Virginia Earthquake

Saturday, as I sat on top of a mountain (yes, really!), I told two friends that I really needed to write a blog post about "the" earthquake, but that it would be senseless to write so late. I mean, honestly, everything that can be said about it has been said about it, right?

All except my bit of the story.

So, what do you want to hear? An explanation of where I was, what I thought, how I panicked? ...or an explanation of what in the world I was doing sitting on top of a mountain on Saturday?

That one is easy. I climbed up there. All 1.5 miles. Lovely climb. My favorite mountain in the world. It is nothing but bare rocks at the top, so the view is unimaginable unless you've been there.

So we were sitting on rocks at the top of the world discussing blogs and earthquakes.

Just in case you are a reader from another country, or the other side of my country, let me explain: I live in Virginia. On August 28th, an unexpected 5.8 earthquake rattled life all up and down the east coast of America. We felt it.

Everybody has their own story about where they were and what they were doing when the earthquake hit. I doubt we'll ever forget it. It was the first - and maybe the only - earthquake I've ever been in. (Honestly, an earthquake in Virginia?)

Actually, I didn't panic. It took me about 10 seconds to realize that this was not a plane overhead, a train close by, or our friendly neighborhood quarry giving off a long blast. The word "earthquake" hit my mind, and I suddenly knew. It took approximately 2 more seconds for my heart rate to kick into high gear.

My first thought was to warn everyone. "But who would believe me?" Honestly - in the midst of what could have been a emergency situation, for all I knew, I was worried about what people thought of me. I'd rather not analyze this part of my reaction.

My next thought was wonder - how bad was this going to get? And I wondered if I should try to find safety. A doorway was nearby, and I stood in it. The ground was still vibrating, and the loud rumbling continued steadily. A friend of mine stood in the doorway across from me. "Do you know what's going on?" she asked (she's from California).

"It feels like an earthquake!" I replied, trying to sound skeptical in case I was wrong.

"That's exactly what it is!" she replied.

We stood there in silence and waited for something to happen. I thought about the plates miles and miles beneath me, grinding over one another, affecting so many people. God was moving the world - and those atheists couldn't do a thing! I found it quite satisfying to think how frustrated they must be to realize it. Then I realized I was quite helpless - and the concept of my own insignificance in the realm of the universe nearly suffocated me.

I didn't know what to expect. When the noise and shaking just kept going, and going, and going, I began to wonder if something really big was going to happen. Would the building collapse? Would our town become a disaster area? Were people being hurt?

"This is what the end times will be like..." Then a breath of wonder caught in my throat. Could it be?

Then, as suddenly as it started, it stopped. It was over. We were still here.

My pulse was throbbing in my wrist and chest. My legs were having their own private little earthquake. But, strangely enough, the sensation in my mind was one of disappointment.

That's it? I wanted to feel it again, just to know I hadn't dreamed it.

A few minutes later, I realized why I was so disheartened.

It could have been the rapture.

But it wasn't.

I suddenly ached so much to see Jesus that my eyes got misty. "Why don't You come, Lord? When will it be?" There was no regret, no longing to live "a few more" days here. For that glorious moment, all I wanted was Him. And I was sad He hadn't come.

Then I realized what would have happened if that HAD been the rapture. There is so much to do! So many people to reach! So much to say! Reality slapped me.

Facebook came alive moments after the quake. I read the posts, imagining what facebook will look like moments after the rapture. What will they say? Oh, the panic that will surge in their hearts! The hopelessness of it all! My heart aches for them - and yearns to spare them that.

There is much to do, folks. Much to pray for. We've been given a precious gift - time. Time to work, and preach, and implore.

Let's not waste it.

A Letter to Someone I Know

Dear Friend,

You are my friend.

You make me sad.

Every time you talk about yourself, it's wrong.

When you talk about your looks, you mock. You can catalog - and will, if asked - each detail of imperfection in your body. You can't give a compliment to someone else without bringing your body into the equation. Their hair is exactly what you always wanted. It must be so much easier for them to find clothes that fit than it is for you.

When you talk about your brains, you laugh sarcastically. You can't talk about a computer without explaining that you aren't a techy. You can't talk about your hobbies without explaining that you aren't an expert. When someone asks for advice you backpedal out of the conversation as fast as you can.

When you talk about your talents, you awkwardly insist, as fast as you can get the words out, that you have none.

Can't you see? Can't you hear?

So it's all about you, is it?

Beneath the shy laugh, the weak smile, the altered tone of denial, it's so easy for others to catch it:

You are proud. You are suffering. You are wounded. You have seen yourself as what you wish you were, and you guess how others see you. The difference between the two tears you apart. You cannot bear that the difference should be there.

And so you go through life apologizing. Comparing. Trying to show how sorry you are that you aren't what you want to be. Making sure everyone knows that you are aware of how short you fall.

And, that, friend, is exactly what you are. Aware. Self aware. So self-aware.

I feel your pain. I hear the grief in your voice. But it is pride masquerading as pain, and I wouldn't be a friend if I didn't tell you that. Because I've been there too. And it hurts. I know.

But pride is pride. Pride is sin!

Let me whisper to you, with the voice of experience and the heartthrobs of well-wishing;

Let it go.

Let the truth be what it is, and put yourself outside of the truth.

We all know how wrong it is to be constantly telling people you're wonderful. It's equally wrong to be constantly telling people you're awful.

Just let it go.

If you are ugly, so be it - God has a purpose for you no one else can match. If you are gorgeous, so be it. You have a purpose and use for your looks that you would do well to find, that you might not waste what you've been given. If you are brainy - use them!

Just be who you are. Reality is not what you imagine you could be, nor what you imagine others see you as. Reality is what is.

Be content. For He Himself has said that He will never leave you.

If He's given you gifts, don't pass the buck.

If He hasn't given you the gifts you want....

...get over it!

Please.

Get over it.

You've got other things.

Promise.

Enjoy those.

Look at Him. At what He has given you.

And enjoy those gifts. Accept them. Admit them. Bask in them. Be verbally grateful for them.

'Cause I see them. Others see them. We'd love to know you see them.

It would make things so much easier on everyone.

Sincerely,
Your friend

Eleven Men

We just finished a week of special meetings at my church. Every night but one we had the pleasure of hearing from a missionary we support, updating us on the work being furthered in their field. Then, after they shared, our guest evangelist preached a message each night. He spoke every night from Matthew 28 - the Great Commission - and his sermons were some of the most practical mission messages I've ever heard. Nothing vague or cliche; he was right to the point, challenging and convicting.

I love mission conferences!

Last night, Friday, was our last meeting, and Dr. Bane did something unusual. He began his message by asking for eleven volunteers from among the men in the congregation.

Our church body is not huge, and not everyone was able to come to the meetings, and not everyone there was a man, and not every man was bold enough to volunteer, so - all in all - it took awhile to get 11 men up front.

Then Dr. Bane asked them to face him, and he spoke to us all.

"This is what Jesus had to work with. After his resurrection. He's down to just the eleven, now, since Judas isn't there. Twelve main leaders among his disciples. And at the top of the mount, he commands them to go into all the world and preach the gospel."

Here Dr. Bane began to pretend he was the Lord, walking back and forth in front of his group of 11, and looking them in the eyes.

"Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost; teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you..."

Dr. Bane looked out at the rest of us. "Can you imagine the conversation as the disciples walked back down that mount? 'We're supposed to reach the whole world? Just the eleven of us? You got any money, brother?' 'No - you?' 'Nope, silver and gold have I none.' 'Well, do you know anybody in high places?' 'I do, but they're all after my head!'"

As Dr. Bane spoke, I sat in my seat and looked at those eleven men.

Eleven men made a smaller group than I thought.

They were so different.

Four grey-haired men. One younger than me. Two bikers. Two very shy men. One very outspoken man. One politician. Two preachers. One builder. One from a medical profession. Some wearing suits. Some wearing polo shirts. Some wearing leather vests. None of them rich. None of them influential in a big way beyond our community.

It gave me a totally new way of looking at the eleven disciples. This is what Jesus had! A unlikely group. A group of very diverse men. A tax collector and a zealot. Fishermen. Farmers, perhaps. One outspoken. Two "sons of thunder." All of them were prone to doubting and bickering amongst themselves.

But when the Holy Spirit gave them boldness and love for God, they were unstoppable. These were the men who preach at Pentecost and 3,000 people were added to the church. These where the men who, as the Romans themselves said, "turned the world upside down."

Sometimes it's good to step back from the mindset of little Bible stories and scripts and tradition, and take a good healthy look at reality.

History wasn't dressed up. It wasn't laid out in neat little scripts for people to act out. It was real life, happening to real people, with a real God making things happen.

Somehow, looking at those eleven men last night, I got excited.

Annoyed...or just making a bad choice?

I've come to the conclusion that there will always be people in your life who rub you the wrong way, or annoy you, or make you uncomfortable. No matter what circles you run in, they will be there.

Because we're all humans, and humans have that nice little characteristic called sinful nature. And so we annoy one another.

But I've also realized that annoyance doesn't come from other people's sinful nature. It comes from mine. Sometimes I get angry when people sin against me, and sometimes I get angry when they haven't done anything wrong. It doesn't really matter whether or not they were in the wrong - I can still be ruffled, see?

It's the same way with the times when I keep my cool. Sometimes people are nice to me and everything's smooth sailing. Other times they are rude, but it doesn't bother me.

The issue is me. Like it or not, I determine my own responses.

But how can one learn to control her responses? Not on my own, that's for sure. The Natural Me goes with whatever emotion springs to the surface at the time. The Natural Me listens to my body, and reacts more snappishly when I'm feeling tired or achey. The Natural Me has only one line of thought, and that's ME. It keeps track of every time my own wishes are crossed, my feelings hurt, my desires thwarted, etc., and reacts with the instincts of self preservation.

But I'm not my own! I've been bought with a price. The Natural Me isn't me anymore. Sure, she lives in the same body I do, but she's an unwelcome guest, a claim jumper, trying to pretend she still owns me. The New Amber is a dulas - a bond slave to Someone she loves very much. And that Someone has given her a new heart, which delights to do His will.

The New Amber has only one line of thought, and that's CHRIST. His wishes. His feelings. His desires. She is in tune with His law and love, and is so content in His affection that human kindness - or lack thereof - is of no consequence. Everything is Him, Him, Him.

Oh how I wish I always could live in that! No - what I mean is how I wish I always would live in that! It's a choice, because Christ has given me the power to live in newness of life. So I can....I just don't.

And that, my dears, is a terrible, awful shame.

Thank the Lord He doesn't alter based on my failures!!!!

DELIGHTFUL Chocolate

It's late, and I really shouldn't be posting, but I HAD to share this one recipe with y'all. It's another Amber creation...


Amber's Brownie Sandwiches
(Isn't the name enough to make your mouth water?)

4 (1 oz.) squares of semi-sweet baking chocolate
2 TBS Butter
1 tsp vanilla
1/3 cup packed brown sugar
1 egg
1/8 tsp baking powder
1/3 cup flour (I think....it was somewhere between 1/4 and 1/2...Sorry! It all comes, as Pooh Bear would say, of baking too much without writing down the ingredients as you go...)

Coarsely chop the chocolate. Place in micro-wave safe bowl with butter and bake on high for 1 minute. Remove, and stir until chocolate is smooth and completely melted. Add vanilla, sugar, and egg. Stir until smooth. Add powder and flour, and stir. Add a touch more flour if you think it's too soupy....but it's supposed to be soupy. Like cake batter.

Pour into grease cookie pan, with sides....um, I used an odd size. Not a 9x13...smaller...but not a 9x9. ...Can you tell this recipe wasn't planned? Batter should be spread thinly, but not so thin you can see the pan through the batter. Almost, but not quite.

Anyway, bake at 350 for about 10 minutes, or until just barely pulling away from sides of pan. Remove and let cool. Will harden as it cools, until it's stiff, like a cookie or wafer. (But if you over-cooked it, it will be HARD, like rock!) Cut into 1.5" squares.

Making Filling:
2 oz. cream cheese
1 TBS milk chocolate chips
1 TBS powdered sugar

Melt cream cheese and chocolate chips in microwave-safe bowl - about 15 seconds. Do not over cook. Stir until smooth and completely melted. Add sugar. Stir.

Use frosting and wafers to make mini sandwiches. Refrigerate until filling becomes firm again.

Eat.

Try not to eat too many.

Sorry for the odd directions. But I didn't want you to miss out on a good treat.

And no picture. They didn't last long enough.

I've discovered something....

...I used to think that hype about "caffeine addiction" was nuts.

It's not.

I'm officially addicted to chocolate.

I'm serious.

What should I do? Try to break it? Or feed it?

How 'bout control it? Just bits at a time?

Yeah. That sounds good. :)

A Sighting

Today I saw her.

The perfect model of beautiful young womanhood.

The hair I've always wanted - dark brown, perfectly smoothly curled, falling in fat ringlets around a perfectly framed face.

Gracefully curved cheek and jaw line. Delicate brows.

Eyes large and liquid, soft and gentle.

Just a touch of makeup - enough to accent pink rosy cheeks, sparkling eyes, and perfect lips and teeth.

Poise, grace. A cheerful, gentle voice. Not too loud or too soft.

Clothes that were so perfectly appropriate and beautiful that I don't remember what they were, just that they were neat, clean, and made her cheeks pinker.

And her beauty was not spoiled by arrogance, impatience, or fretfulness. She smiled, waited her turn, asked for things politely, and knew how to articulate her desires clearly and honestly.

I stared, and felt humbled. For a fleeting moment, I felt jealous. Then I felt awe. Then I felt jealous again. Then I wondered who she was, and how she had stayed so unspoiled in manner while being so beautiful.

And right now, I'm sitting here thanking God that He blessed me with chance to see outer and inner beauty combined.

It's inspiring.

Weeds next door

This morning I dressed in my oldest, messiest clothes, plunked my wide-brimmed hat on my head, and went out into the garden at about 8:45. It had been long enough since I'd been out there. It was time to let the plants know I hadn't forgotten them.

My mission: weeding. Rain has been pouring down nearly every night for over a week, and the weeds have really taken off. Some - many - were as high as mid-calf. Not in the beds, of course, but in the paths between beds. There the soil is harder, and the weeds less-noticed... until they get out of control, like they were this morning.

I wore through one finger of my left-hand glove, muddied my clothes up to my knees, ground dirt into my arms until I looked like I had a sudden tan, and landed hard on my rear more than once when a stubborn weed gave way suddenly.

I pulled them up by the roots; the small young sprouts, the slender, easily-removed shoots of grass, the four-leaved weeds that have a red tint, the spinach-like weeds with the stubborn root system, the wild violet leaves that have no flowers, and the short maple saplings, slender like grass. I pulled dandelions, too, but most of the time the root stayed in the ground. Those things are strong.

I worked until 11:00, so I had lots of time to think. I asked myself, why am I pulling weeds from the path? What does it matter? I reminded myself that weeds that went to seed near the beds would surely end up broadcasting seeds into the beds, causing dozens of miniature versions of themselves to spring up among our precious crops.

That's a lot like life, I thought. Who would want bad seeds nearby? If a bar opened next door, you would want to close it down. But what about more subtil influences? What are things that I don't count as "in" my life, but are near enough to influence me? Am I taking active control of my climate?

Someday I hope to be a parent. Then I'll really have my job cut out for me, making sure the influences surrounding our home are wholesome and godly.

When I was finished in the garden, I had a pile of weeds that looked like a small green haystack - roughly 2.5' in diameter, and 2' high.

And I had a lot of thinking stored away in my head.

My Bedroom Redecorated

Hello! Welcome to my bedroom! I'm thrilled to finally be able to show you around.

If you missed my previous posts describing the process that led to my owning a new bedroom, and pictures of the pre-decorating phase, visit here for post #1, and here for post #2.

(To summarize, this is the first time I've had my own space to decorate as I please, and I did it little by little over the course of the past year. Now I feel like it's "arrived," and I want to share the finished product with you.)

So come on in!

(Regular readers, be warned; this post contains a record amount of pictures, and will likely throw you into shock over that fact. :) :)

Here's the photo I left you with last time - the view from the doorway:
(I realize these are rather small. Please forgive me - they load faster, and I'm short on patience when it comes to uploading things.)

I made the quilt for the bed, finishing it just days before I moved into my new bedroom. The headboard belonged to my mom when she was a little girl, but it was dark brown and the rest of the bed frame was non-existent. My brother Curtis built the new bed frame according to my directions, Dad drilled holes for the rope, and I painted the whole thing.
The bookshelf was made by Curtis several years ago, especially for me, and it matches my hope chest.

My closet is at the foot of my bed. I can select my outfit in the morning in comfort! :) (I don't really do it that way. I have to touch clothes when I'm picking them. :) There's a verse painted above the closet doorway. (Isaiah 26:3) There was no door for the closet, so I sewed a curtain, and I like it better anyway. The fabric is home decor weight, and is pale blue, white, and brown stripes.

I store my instruments in their cases at the foot of my bed, too. And don't you like my two big windows? I chose a sheer swag rather than a full curtain, to let in as much light as possible. I had the perfect fabric - all I had to do was hem it.

Here's a better look at my bookshelf:

I love my touch-lamp; it's one of the more recent additions to my room.

Now, here's my favorite corner:

I custom-designed this desk to suit my needs. It fits perfectly in that corner, and the two matching shelves hold my "pretties" and some old books. This is where I'm sitting right now, and where I sit to do my writing and computer work. I built the desk and shelves myself - with occasional help from Dad, and I'm quite pleased with it. The top of the desk and shelves is coated with a varnish to make them glassy-smooth. :) I love the look of stained wood, but I chose to paint part of the structure white so it took up less visual space.


Here's better view of the shelves. I love my old books!

And here's the top of my desk. I love my jars with paint brushes and pens and pencils. And see my miniature oil lamp? It's a pencil sharpener! :) That stack of books it's sitting on has continued to grow; it's where I keep my writing books (dictionary, thesaurus, writing inspiration, etc.). At this moment it's 10 books and about 12" high.

Don't you love my drawer handles? Too bad you can't see them up close. They're a pretty iron weave design.

And here's the wall to the right of the desk:

Dad made my shelf, with my name carved in it, and I use the top to display pictures of me with friends. The bouquet of flowers is from my sister's wedding.

Here's my hope chest. I love it. Daddy made it for me several years ago, and it's full of linens and kitchen items. I sewed the cushion cover and pillow cases when I moved into this bedroom.

The pink tote on the floor by my hope chest is my portable craft room. I have a sewing area in the basement, but I always have a little project or two (or three or four....) that winds up in my room. This tote helps contain everything, and saves me from running downstairs every time I need a pair of scissors. I also like that it's next to the computer, so I can pick up stuff to work on it any time my hands are free while my eyes are busy.

Aaaand this is what I see when leaving my room. I built the peg rail (well, teased Curtis into doing it, really) and painted it the same blue as my ceiling. It's nice to have a place for purses and hats, but I really need more that that, because those pegs are always overflowing! My full-length mirror makes the room seem larger, and it's nice to see what I look like when I'm heading out the door to face the world. The vintage luggage on the floor by the mirror is my "compact vanity," and holds all my hair items.

So there you have it! I love my little paradise. It's compact, and everything has a purpose and use. Practically speaking, I've put out comparatively little money for what I got in return:

- The low-odor paint for my walls, ceiling, and bed was my birthday gift (by request) from my parents last year.

- The wood for my bed and desk were probably my most expensive purchases, and I bought pieces a few at a time over the past months.

- The lamp was a gift from my mom (thank you!) to help me with my room.

- I bought the fabric for my quilt long before I started working on my room, so it was already taken care of. I had to buy fabric for the closet curtain, but had leftovers for two matching pillows for my hope chest, and leftover fabric from the quilt made one more.

- I didn't have to buy any of the foam for the hope chest cushion and pillows; the foam was from one of those "pads" that goes on top a mattress (from the double bed I used to share with my sister), and the pillow forms were "recycled" from other sources.

- The wood for the peg rail was scrap wood from Dad's projects over the years.

- I already had my bookshelf and hope chest.

- Someone had given me a bag of fabric, which is where my curtain fabric came from.

So, most of what was "spent" on this room was effort and time, not money. I'm pleased with how it turned out. I think it has a country, colonial feel, but not strictly so. It's "me," and I'm pleased to say that my family seems to enjoy hanging out in my bedroom.

What do you think? What are some decorating tips you use in making your bedroom a place of peace and comfort? And how do you incorporate workstations into your room without letting them take over?

101 Reasons to Never Visit the Library in the Evenings on a Wednesday

#1 - Books gotten from the library are meant to be read.

#2 - Everyone knows that staying up late (waaaaay too late) is the best way to get books completed when you have a busy schedule.

#3 - Everyone also knows that sleeping in on a weekday is NOT the best way to get life completed. Therefore...you don't sleep in.

#4 - Ambers - Ahem, I mean people - who don't get enough sleep do silly things.

#5 - They feel a rediculous temptation to close their eyes while driving.

#6 - They call lightning bugs "light bulbs."

#7 - They mis-type important emails.

#8 - They type the wrong password for their google account while trying to get on their blog.

#9 - They sit at computer screens and try to remember what the other reasons were.








Edited to Add:

#10 - Chocolate becomes much too high of a temptation.

#11 - You look at people standing in front of you and look right though them.

#12 - Everything you right lookes hilike this be-unlesds you retype it , wheich means whceveything takes much longer to do. . (I did not type anyofe this like thins on puropose, I just left it whthe way it was...) ..Whcich is a very good represntation fo the way my braing is thinking right now. )

I've seen it done before.

Many times.

The girl starts a blog in her mid-to-late teen years. She blogs avidly, on every topic that catches her fancy. She posts often. She posts energetically.

Then life starts to get busier. For awhile, she posts even more often, trying to explain to the world how revolutionary this new concept of busy is, and how the "busy" that she used to complain about really was sunshiny childhood, and not true business at all.

Finally, when the posts have dwindle into the rarity of a worm in a chicken pen, she announces to her few remaining loyal readers, "I've had enough. It's plain to see that I can't upkeep a blog and live at the same time - not in this season of life, anyway. It's not fair to my readers. I am shutting down my blog for now. I'll return in a later season of life; when I have more time. (Whenever that that mysterious and golden time of life is.)"

About that point, I feel like plunging my hands through the computer screen, grabbing the said blogger by the throat, and screaming, "What are you thinking?!?! You can't leave now! I was just starting to like you! You've become a friend - how can you walk out on me? How can you upset my routine this way? I demand that you continue to blog!"

Yes. Many times. Many blogging friends have disappeared...sadly. I miss them.

That being said...

I'm determined that I won't put any remaining readers of this floundering blog through that kind of wistful sadness. I'm stubbornly refusing to admit that I really don't have time to blog. Because you know what? I bet you "really don't have time" to read my blog. But you do. And I love it. We encourage each other.

We're gonna make it through this crazy time of life, and we're going to make it through together - even if we talk less often. I'm not going anywhere, Lord willing.

Not to imply that anyone who quits blogging - or reading - is somehow less together or somehow less time efficient. Even though I get mad at them, in my heart I take my hat off to the ladies who know when to evaluate their priorities and call it quits for anything that is not necessary to reach the goal. They're an amazing breed. I applaud them. And if you have to do it, by all means do it. Even if it means I lose a reader.

Who knows - someday I may reach the point where God tells me, "that blog of yours is not profitable to you anymore. Set it aside and pursue a new path." I hope that if that time comes, I can obey with as much stubbornness as I'm using right now in facing my time shortages.

But, for now, with all my quirks and oddities, I'm sticking with ya.

So I hope you're set for a bumpy ride.

Highly Recommended

Hey, folks!

For those of you who get tired waiting for me to pop around and write my next blog post, I'd like to recommend a fun cooking/budgeting blog for you to read in the meantime: Once a Month Shopping for Couples.



Don't let the title fool you; you don't have to be married to read it. If you like to cook, you'll enjoy this blog. Nice pictures, yummy treats, witty writing, and a blog author who has a wonderful personality.

Did I mention she's related to me?

Go on over and check out my sister's blog. Heather will be delighted to see you; she's always been good at hospitality.




P.S. (One disclaimer; though I LOVE devouring her treats, she's never been known to skimp on the sugar. :) :) :) But, hey, we all need a little sweetness in our lives!)

Bedroom Design, Post #2

Are you ready to see more of my new bedroom?

This month, in honor of my one-year anniversary in this bedroom, I'm posting photos of how I've decorated it. To see the first post, click here.

Now, as I explained before, this is a modest-sized room, and there is nothing extra spectacular about it except that it's mine. A few basic statistics:

~ The room measures approximately 8'x12' (minus the space the closet takes up).
~ There's one double window, on one of the long sides of the room.
~ I have a small closet, with two rods for hanging, and two shelves.
~ The floors are wooden.
~ The walls are simple, with no molding or otherwise "extra" architecture.

It was a blank slate, just waiting for some love and imagination. And I was happy to provide both.

My tastes in room decor are basic and traditional, with a touch of my own personality. I believe in the old saying "have nothing in your home which you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful."

I lean toward colonial furniture and colors, and I love to have echoes of nature about me.

My idea of beauty in a room is sunlight, and real flowers, and fresh air, and good, sturdy materials that can stand up to wear and tear. I hate idle little knickknacks that do nothing but collect dust, and fussy arrangements that can't last through real life. I want things about me that I use, and I want to use beautiful things. I don't like to be tied up in trends, and I'm not fussy about sticking to a particular "style," though I love historical-looking rooms. If I enjoy having it around me, then I incorporate it into the decor. Everything matches because everything is "me."

I love space. I think space and light are two of the most valuable things to put in a room.

Here were my main goals in decorating my bedroom:

~ Make the room look larger than it is
~ Have a place for everything I use on a regular basis, and make it easy to put things away
~ Have some blank spaces, just for visual peace
~ Make the room feel peaceful
~ Have a work area, for writing and business
~ Have only furniture that I love

To accomplish this, I:
~ Chose to use a lot of blue and white in the decor. I love that combo anyway. White makes things look larger and emptier, and blue give the impression of calm.
~ Took a lot of effort in designing a closet that could hold a lot of things
~ Concentrated my storage in some areas so that I could have the luxury of empty spaces in other areas
~ Did not use full curtains on my windows. I wanted as much glass and light as possible. I used a light white swag on the top, and I pull down blinds at night.
~ Got rid of a lot of stuff. :) :)

Of course, I had to make at least one compromise:
~ I picked a bed that was high off the floor, because I loved the colonial style, and I did not use under-the-bed storage. It was a lot of storage space that I gave up, but it would have ruined the effect, and by leaving the floor visible, I gave the appearance of having a larger floor. It gives a touch of luxury to the room, by having nothing under the bed. :)

(This is coming from a girl who spent her childhood stuffing all her pack-rat-collected items under the bed and pulling the comforter down a little farther to hide the mess from Mom and Dad.)

Oh dear. I've just realized how very opinionated and brisk I sound in all my lists and descriptions; "I can't stand this," "I hate that," "I love that." You must think I go around criticizing every room I enter.

The truth is, I love interior design, and I love the variations one finds in every room. I love how personalities are displayed in each room, ...and I love having a room of my own to play with. Don't think that because I love one thing I hate everything else. I present this room to you as enthusiastically as I honestly feel about it. I don't expect everyone to love it like I do, but maybe you can get some pleasure from my honest excitement, even if our tastes are different.

Now, ...last time, I left you with this picture:

I had just finished painting the room, and cleaning the floor and windows. And I had begun to hang things on the walls.

With the exception of the chair I am sitting in right now, every piece of furniture in my bedroom was made by me or someone in my family. I didn't start out with that goal, but I think it's pretty neat. Of course, that meant I had to wait awhile to furnish my room. One doesn't just walk into a store, pick out wood and paint, and say "I'd like that in my room next week."

Actually, two of my items of furniture came with me from my old bedroom; my hope chest (made by Dad) and my matching bookshelf (made by my brother Curtis), but the desk looked like this until just a few months ago:

I am very proud of my finished desk, but it took me almost a year to make, working whenever I had a free Saturday or Friday (which wasn't often!). I cut out all the pieces in the above picture by myself, which was a first. :) :) I'm rather scared of Dad's table saw. :)

My bed is part new, and part history. I mentioned in my last post that my headboard used to be Mom's, when she was a young girl. The headboard, however, was the only part of the bed that remained, so I added to it:
That bed took awhile to make, too. And it took a lot of help from my brother Curtis before I got it right. He basically made the bed; I just gave directions, and then painted it. :)


But then the room went from looking bright and empty, to looking kinda like this:











Um..., that is....rather messy. Are you sure you want to see? .....

I lived in a mess for several months. Ugh. Of course, it wasn't always this bad, but it took awhile for things to get better. I needed a desk to organize my writing supplies. But, ignoring the mess, doesn't my bed look nice? An "authentic imitation rope bed."


Here's the other corner. Not much better (usually all the mess was stacked in this corner, but here I was cleaning out space for my desk):
Now, as for linens....they were all homemade, too. I finished my quilt just before moving into this room. And it took only a month or so to finish the curtain for the window, a curtain for my closet door, a cushion for my hope chest, and throw pillows to match.

Then the room began to come together. Now it looks like this:

But that's all I'm going to show you until next time. That's when the fun will begin!!!!!! A photo tour of my finished product. :) :)