grass laying and upward gazing

Often my kids do things I don't "get".  They'll say something or repeatedly act a certain way, like it's part of a routine.  I didn't teach it so I'm not sure where it originated.

It seems that we aren't able to go on any walk around our neighborhood without the girls laying down on someones grass.  There isn't a structure to the houses they pick, they just plop down, all of a sudden and lay there.  They're usually quiet and they stare up to the sky and at first I get annoyed.  "Get up, ladies!  You can't lay on other peoples lawns!"  So, they get up.  

The next day they'll do the same, in spite of my previous constant admonitions, which is unlike them.  

On a particularly unruly day in our house {battling fevers in Winter, of course}, I forced them out the door for some fresh air and wouldn't you know, they were grouchy.  Testy and tired and so was I.

Three minutes in and plop.

They both fell onto the neighbors fluffy cold-weather grass and were silent.  For a good two minutes straight, which we all know is rare with a two and four-year-old.  Instead of snapping at them, I joined.  I was tired too. I gave in and sat down, rested my back on the still wet green blanket and sank in.

Wouldn't you know.....they were staring up, in-between those bare branches, at the most calming and ocean blue sky.  It was simply striking.  It's what they had been admiring all along, like they uncovered the mystery of a perfect walk and their mother had no clue what lay above.

Those kids teach me so much.  Mainly to look where I don't think to look and appreciate what I haven't made time or reason for.

tough cookies

I posted this picture, on Instagram, with the following caption:

// The day you decide to homeschool: "I'm going to be amazing and teach my child to read and write and speak Latin and my house or waistline won't suffer at the hands of home education!" // 6 months in: "I hope my child learns to spell their name and all I want is Oreos before I have to clean up glue and glitter from the carpet." //

Apparently it resonated with MANY mothers and for that, I was grateful.

I won't lie. It's hard. And my kid's only 4. And I only have one of them to teach. And sometimes I want to go back to an office job, with a lunch break.  And sometimes I just want to drop them off at school and go to the gym or to sit on a park bench. And sometimes I cry and feel like I'm a bad mom and a even worse homeschooler and convince myself they will most certainly grow up awkward and maladjusted at the hands of their very ADD/OCD mother. And sometimes I get mad at myself for even complaining because I'm lucky to have this option at all.  And then sometimes I get to 10am and haven't had one solid thought all morning, from which I could pass along any intelligence to my children.

And then....sometimes....I witness my daughter realize something.  Like a lightbulb going off in her little brain and I see it.  That glimmer of amazing realization that she understood. She learned.  Grasped. I was able to see it.  I was able to watch.  I tear.

What's funny is how, at the onset of so many things, we allow ourselves to form an idea about "how" it should look and then we are curiously puzzled when it doesn't look that way.  Ultimately deciding that it was a failure, of sorts.
I haven't allowed myself to do that with homeschooling {often} and that has been much to my benefit.  As with many things in my life, I didn't appreciate the journey because I had already lived it, within the walls of my mind.  It was no longer a pleasure or adventure.  Merely a task to complete.

Certainly there are going to be difficult days.  Many more difficult days the more children I teach and the older we all get {I mean, what could be easier than teaching my four-year-old letters?} Hardships, misunderstandings and frustrations will always come.  Always, always. As they will for any parent, in any situation.

But I wouldn't change this, because I don't even know what this is, yet.  It's yet to be seen and how could I walk away from something so mysteriously intriguing?

So, basically this isn't just about homeschooling.
It's for you, no matter what you are encountering.

Don't write your story just yet.
Live it and let Him {who has already authored the entire novel} unfold the moments in front of you.

tales from a scrapbook

I haven't been here since Thursday?
Yowzers.

Life is full right now, in a very satisfying way, but also in a, "What day is it?" type of way.  Not leaving much time for frivolity, extras or anything of the sort.

That's alright by me, however.  I tend to think of motherhood in the vein of, "It's going to be over faster than I think, so breathe and enjoy the moment".  It helps during the the difficult moments and also enhances those times where motherhood leaves you breathless, with joy.  It's a beautiful season and I'm in the thick of it....truly.

I have been visiting the estate sales, with what limited free time I have.  I'll always make moments for that.  And this weekend I happened to capture the entire life and history of one family, in the form of pictures and small mementos.  Two large, bound scrapbooks, filled to the brim with portraits, cards, love letters and clippings.  My heart jumped when I saw it.  I scooped them up, rescued them and have been pouring over them since.

Over 400 pictures in total....a life inside a scrapbook.
In all honesty, after reading over the letters and seeing the photos, I'm also able to piece together the history of the main character "JoAnn" and let me tell you...she was no angel.  She had a beau, in the Navy, when she was 16.  He was madly in love {I have the poems to prove it} and all the while, she had several other gentlemen {or were they?!} sending her letters at the exact same time!! SCANDAL!

At any rate, it's interesting.
The picture history is lovely and a reminder to carry your camera, capture moments liberally, label them and express yourself through preservation of family history.

Generations to come will long to know about where they came from!

I hope you have the happiest of Mondays!

Wouldn't you know {making me happy}.

I thought it might be a waste of time {and the .20 cent listing fee} to put this little ticket in the shop, simply because there was only one available and it's a pretty specific item, but wouldn't you know....

It sold in the wee hours of the night to a happy customer in Australia.
Someone out there wanted it, and that makes me very very happy.

Speaking of making me happy....

Happy Thursday, friends.

Why?

"Why?" you ask.

I wondered the same question, today, but only for a moment.

Why would I bother listing an old, beat up, discolored, piece of paper?  For that matter, why do I list many items that are obviously worn, used or seemingly useless?

It's a question I've been asked before and probably the question of some who visit my shop or see my "office" at home, filled with weird and unusual items with little {to no} monetary value, in the present market.

Long before I had a small shop, I went to garage sales and I went to estate sales.  I've been visiting them regularly for well over ten years and with each one I step my foot into, I find something that moves me a little, on the inside.  I find a little scrap of paper, wilting Bible or a stained toy and usually the items that claim my emotions are the ones that are priced the lowest and left for the Goodwill or worse yet, the garbage.

Long before I started to make money by selling online, I collected these items because {and I believe I'm just now learning this is the reason} the past is important to me.
The past haunts me.
The past is the most beautiful story book.
The past is my clearest indicator of the future.
The past makes up and glues together the broken pieces of the present.

Somehow, when I am the most confused about the state of my being,  all I need to do is open an old journal or scroll through the saved emails from five years ago. Look at the books written years and years before self-publishing and e-books were all the rage.  Most of the answers to my current problems lay scattered in the ashes of days gone by and easily removed from the front of my mind.
I remember how important people are to me, even when I currently struggle with them.
I remember how stubborn I can be, time and time again.
I remember how providential the good Lord is day upon day, giving me just what I need.

Sometimes these revelations come from an old note and sometimes they stare back at me, through the eyes of a person in a photo....
But almost always, they are from the past.  Rarely the present and almost never the perceived future.

Long before I had Attic17, I grabbed hold of these items because I wanted to believe, I had to believe that others process and learn by holding on to pieces of their past.
I collect these items and now list these items, in my shop, because I hope there are other people out there searching for the past, to learn about the present and grow even more, in the coming days.

It may sound silly to you, but I do this because I love this so very much.
My greatest hope, with this small task of owning a shop, will never be to make a buck. In fact, I'd do it for free, truly, if I had to. It will never be primarily for financial gain or to win approval or notoriety.
My love of the past and collecting artifacts for others is one of the most pure things I desire to do.
Without setting feet in those abandoned and hollowed out homes, I'm not sure how else the Lord would teach me about myself.


And I do sincerely hope that maybe something I pick up, along the way will be a key to the past, for someone else.

of interest // Happy Weekend!

Each post I write, I feel I'm omitting so many interesting, joyful and happy things, that are happening in our little home.  The girls are growing so fast, getting bigger and wanting to play, read and run more and more. Their little appetites are growing as well, so cooking and baking is becoming less of a hobby and more of a necessity {which I really enjoy}. They require more of me and I like that.....but I lay my head down, at the end of each day and think, "That day flew by and I didn't do......." and I start my list. That's ok, though.

I wouldn't trade a million extra minutes in a day for the loud voices and full home I feel we have. It's a blessing.

***

So many things were of interest to me, this week.
I'll choose to share one only-to stress the importance of you making it!

THIS SOUP IS DELICIOUS!
And her blog is pretty great too!

Visit one and make the other and you won't be disapointed in either!

***

I hope you enjoy everything you have planned for the next two {three, if you have Monday off!} days!  I will be going to church, watching Downton Abby, BBQ'ing with friends and heading to Book Club. With some gardening and sun bathing mixed in there. And coffee.

Happy Weekend!

// vintage //

I have been finding such wonderful items, at the estate sales.
Not all are listed in my shop {yet} and there is so much more lining the walls {and floor} of my office. 

Make me a promise? If you find something sweet, from a past life, don't throw it away. Just because it's old doesn't mean it isn't important.
Send it my way.  Or set it on a shelf and see if you might grow to find it charming and useful.

You never know.

A history in pictures and postcards {HELP!}

I'm far from a hoarder and hope to always remain that way.

Except in one area of my life.

Letters and pictures.

I have boxes of pictures and every letter sent to me. They reside in an upstairs bedroom, in no particular order.  I am actually pretty good about printing out pictures we take.  Where I falter is in the organization and presentation.  The same goes for letters, cards and postcards.  I have thousands just collecting dust.  If you have sent me a card-no matter the reason-I have it.

If browsing estate sales has taught me anything, it's taught me that preservation of a familys history is important.  It's important for your children and your children's children.  I have thousands of pictures of my sweet daughters, our friends, our trips and every holiday celebrated. So many memories of people I love and things we have done together, just sitting up there, telling NO story at all.  I have pictures saved from when I was a child and the collection just goes crazy, once Sean and I met, over 18 years ago.  When Sean's grandmother passed away, we were given hundreds of images and artifacts from her life, as well. 

Not surprisingly the same goes for correspondences.  I have all of the letters Sean and I sent to one another from the age of 14.  Hundreds of thousands {trust me, I'm not kidding.  We were quite the lovebirds}.  My girlfriends are pretty keen on sharing letters and postcards, so I have many from them....not to mention birthday cards, wedding letters and thank you notes, enough to fill up the bed of a truck.  Sean's grandmother sent him a card every week and we have the entire collection.

It's no joke, my friends.
And no....I'm not throwing them all away after I scan them, so please don't try to talk me into it.  

So, I have already printed out all of my Instagram photos and made a poster for our walls and small books to give the grandparents and my brother {of the girls}.  I made each of the girls a photo book of the same images, for their memory boxes {and hope to do once a year so they have those fun, filtered captures for years to come!}

But still.
I would like to figure out a way to preserve the many photos and letters I have, in a simple {as simple as it can be}, cost-efficient and respectful way as possible, that I am able to easily share with others.  Seeing as many of the photos are of our family and friends who frequently visit our home, I know it would be woderful for them to be able to look through the pages at the years gone by.

So, do you have any ideas, suggestions or thoughts on how to safely preserve these artifacts?

The last thing I want is for someone to have to sift through all of these beautiful photos, someday, and be so overwhelmed that they never take on the task.  Ultimately leaving them in the box and never fully appreciating them. 

Our photos and letters are special and they should be kept accordingly, I believe.

HELP.

{Forgive me any typos or poor grammar.  It's 5am and I'm rushing this post so that I am ready for the day ahead.  Four children, under 5 years old today!  Bring on the coffee!}

the vanishing childhood.

Some people will tell you to enjoy all the moments, even while others tell you that's impossible.  Still some people will tell you to think to the future and plan, plan, plan for what it may be even while many think that is a waste of now.
Some people will tell you children must learn and face reality and some will argue you must let them be just what they are-children. And for as long as possible.

What I believe is that none of us really know.  Not one parent knows for certain they are doing it right and often we are confident we are doing it very wrong.

This weekend, {as with many weekends in my life} our DVD player was tuned to Mary Poppins. In the background of our living room, while the children made believe and ran around the couches, ships and princess' in hand, I stared blankly, at the screen. Never do I mind the movie much, as I've seen it more times than I care to admit and could recite it if needed. It just serves as lovely background noise and who doesn't want to dance to STEP IN TIME, once in awhile?
However, I couldn't help but watch the demise of Mr. Banks and his long walk to his soon-to-be former employers, knowing that his being fired was imminent and introspection was needed.  Seeing this movie so often you begin to be comfortable with the fact that Mr. Banks was a bit of a blow-hard and the typical "work means everything to me" type of father.  You know what's going to happen-a bit of reconciliation and realization and all is well.

But what always gets me is the interaction shared between Bert and Mr. Banks. The moment the alarm goes off, in his mind.

Bert:You're a man of high position, esteemed by your peers.
Bert:And when your little tykes are crying, you haven't time to dry their tears... And see their thankful little faces smiling up at you... 'Cause their dad, he always knows just what to do...
George Banks:Well, look - I...
Bert:Say no more, Gov'ner.
Bert:You've got to grind, grind, grind at that grindstone... Though childhood slips like sand through a sieve... And all too soon they've up and grown, and then they've flown... And it's too late for you to give - just that spoonful of sugar to 'elp the medicine go down - medicine go dow-own, medicine go down. 


 The minute he, like all of us parents, awake to the idea that this parenting thing is so much less about us and how well we do it, how beautiful our journals and scrapbooks for our children, how amazing a example we are of industry and hard work and creativity, how we model fortitude and talent or how we create the most beautiful dwelling.....
It's much less about that and

 much more about them.
We have so little time with them and right now is that moment we are going to wish to change or keep the same, whoever knows.  But the truth still holds the same, no matter the outcome....

We are IN that moment.
I am IN that moment and I am able to watch this magic of childhood before me, each day, if I chose or I can chose to shuttle them off because I'm tired or schedule them out because I'm afraid they won't find themselves or keep them busy because I'm in need of chores being completed or occupy them over and over and over so I can tend to my own dreams and aspirations and personal predilections.

No matter what I will think then, all I really have is NOW.

I'm not quite sure how I feel of all the prescriptions that fellow parents give beause we are all in a bit of the same place as Mr. Banks, aren't we {even if we don't want to admit it}?
We think we are doing what is right and we think we are moving towards what is important-whatever that may be....
But Bert was correct.

Soon they will be up and grown and soon they will be too old for the wishes we may have had and dreams we saw for them.  I can't help but wonder if we will all realize that the thing that we should have done was the most simple of all ideas.

It's as simple as
Just be there and let yourself be inside their childhood. 
As much as you can.
Be there, holding their little hands and walking through life, with them and their innocent minds, pure hearts and childish whims. That's all my children want from me-as mother who sits and hears and reads and dives headfirst into the watercolor world, in their mind. A mother who doesn't assume it's too childish or resolves no understanding for what they speak of but becomes the main character in their play. A person who sees the brilliance in what they say and knows their thoughts are more grand and revealing than a parenting book or blog post.....it's sheer magical thinking, free for the taking but slowly slipping away.
Childhood and it's illusive innocence seem to be vanishing earlier and earlier these days and so my time is limited.
On that day, when whimsy fades to reality I suppose, simply stated....

I hope I don't regret having been Mr. Banks, far too often.

Of interest // Happy Weekend!

This week was wonderful.
Thank you for all of you lovely thoughts, words and anecdotes on THIS post. What a amazing chance to be part of the past and present, at the same time.  It was a gift and when my brother called, to share in it with me, he said, "If you ever needed validation that your estate saleing and collecting vintage items was important....there it is."
He was right! It gave me an additional sense of purpose and an extra skip in my step.
Thank you for being part of it, too!

How was your week? 
Regarding present life, I really can't complain on any front.  Life right now is extra sweet.  Truly, it has always been, but the girls are at a most wonderful age, learning is good {homeschooling, I mean}, we are very blessed with wonderful people that we see often and walk through daily life with, Sean and I are at a point in marriage where we laugh daily and are learning new things about each other {how is that possible?} and together we are feeling so very confident in where God has us.  

I suppose, if I had to simply sum it up....
I am very content.
Full, content and like a fat cat, taking a nap {because I always look at cats sleeping and get a bit jealous}.

Life is so very good.

***

Now on to things that held my interest, this week!


My friend has a lovely shop HERE and I  just adore these Valentines cards.  I am a large fan of Valentines day {if you aren't, that's ok!}  and can't wait to send letters in the post, to all the special people in my life.  These would be just perfect! Go get some!

***

I love old people and I love this video.  I want to hang out with these guys, every day, for the rest of my life {some cursing in video, sorry.}

***

Well, THESE are just too cute, I can't handle it.

***

I read this on a day that I especially needed it.  I hope you need it, today, as well.

***

And with that, I'm off to enjoy the weekend!
Estate sales, lounging, family over, dinner with old friends and church.

{Oh and I have a question-I have had many readers email me and say they are having problems commenting or that they don't regularly because it's a hassle.  Is that true?  I really do love interacting with all of you and so I want to make it as easy as possible for you. When I have personally tried, it seemed that it was easiest {if you don't have a Disquis account} to simply put in your name and email?}

HAPPY WEEKEND to YOU!

// Beauty and Breaking Glass //

 via

"They" {those big-time blog guru's out there} say never press a post but I've been trying for the last hour, all the same.  Not because anyone has a pressing urgency to hear what I have to say, obviously. I've been trying so hard because often I need to write it out in order to understand it.  Maybe that's backwards.

I'm not going to keep trying, I'm just going to lay it out there with authentic simplicity and no candy coated, re-edited wording.

This life is such a mix of beauty and devastating heartache.

Not even 10 days into this new year I have sat at dinner with the closest of friends, laughing uncontrollably.  I've received letters from people cross country, sharing daily joys and I've hugged people in my family, after being able to shed a tear over great news. I sit by a fire at home, and watch my darling girls play. I spend time with the people I love. I bake, cook, teach and live. I watch interactions of grandparents with their grand babies and I get sweet texts from good people.

Not even 10 days into this new year and I've learned of two suicides, a cancer diagnosis within the family, unemployment of two relatives, a friend who is unable to get pregnant and a confidant that is struggling desperately, with depression. Girlfriends that have hard choices to make and people who need finances to untangle so they can adopt a baby, buy a house, purchase a much needed car or just go to the grocery store.

It's beauty and breaking glass.
It's perfection and sickening silence.

When life is presented as this stark, you get down to brass tacks and stop fiddling with stupid ideals and trite sayings.  You get back to basics and what you know is truth.  Your gaze is no longer foggy and often we are met with embarrasment with how much time we spend on mindless and meaningless pursuits.

Death, sadness and consequence keep us authentic.
Love, joy and contentment keep us alive.

Through it all, I once again am reminded that Christs love and my pursuit to represent it are all that I really have, all that I am assured and all that I can count on. Never to leave, fail or falter.
Assurance of salvation, true love and eternity are the only things that bring me comfort in the deepest dark and the only things that allow happiness and daily joy to make sense.

Without the events that drop us to our knees we would never know our need of a Savior.
Without the events of indescribable happiness, we would never know full beauty, born from Christs love.

To that end, I will conclude what I simply know.
This is life. 
Two destinations on the spectrum, with which we will oscillate between, our entire lives.

Our choice is in the adaptation of constant belief.

I believe that Christ is there, in the shredding and in the blooming.
Just grab hold and believe.
Please.

The mystery of Donald Frizzle, solved.

Before you read anything further, please go read the previous post.  I promise it will make this post mean so so so much more.

***

After I posted this morning, about the telegram exchanged between Kay and Donald, I went on my merry way.  I visited the local TARGET and post office. When I came home, there was a comment from my friend and reader, Kate.

Kate had located, through the power of Google, the obituary of Donald Frizzle.  I knew things like this weren't impossible, considering the wealth of information online, but it was very exciting to learn about him. I began reading, immediately.  I became immersed in the story of Donald and his life, his childhood, his enlistment in the US Air Force and his eventual attendance at Trinity University, in Texas.

And then I saw it.

While at Trinity, Donald met and married a woman named Kay.

It was her!  They were in love and I had solved a piece of the mystery!

But I read on.  I knew this story wasn't over and I could feel that-I knew something else would happen.

At the bottom of the obituary, it said that he was survived by his wife Kay B. Frizzle, of Sedona, AZ.  There was a chance she was still alive and so I drew a deep breath and googled her.  Instantly, I found a few addresses and phone numbers.  One of the listings had a Donald Frizzle as the next of kin and so I took that as a safe indication this was the right one, so I picked up the phone. I drew another breath {much deeper than before} and dialed the numbers.

Much to my disappointment, the number had been disconnected.  I was sad, but knew that to learn of Donalds life was enough and I was very content to have read about such a interesting and special man.

Even still, I couldn't help but do another search.  I felt that there had to be more out there.  And there was.  I found an alternate number. Still in Arizona, but different.  

Again, I dialed and this time.....someone answered.

A weak and fragile voice said, "Hello?"

I began to cry when I asked, "Is this Kay Frizzle?"  and she quietly answered, "Why yes it is."

I was talking to Kay.

While tears ran rapidly down my face {quite literally the ENTIRE phone conversation} I shared who I was and what I do-unearthing items from the past and sharing their importance and love with others.  I explained that I was holding a telegram she sent to Donald, over 50 years ago, and there was silence.

"Well, I can't believe it.  I can't believe you have that and it made its way to you."

"I can't either" I said. I asked her if she knew what that date was and what its importance was. Why had she sent a telegram on that particular day?  She thought for a minute and said, "That date was two weeks before our wedding day, but I can't seem to remember what exactly it was.....I would ask Donald, but he isn't alive anymore.  He died a year ago and our children wouldn't know, so it would just be me."

"I am so sorry" was all I could think to say.  I followed with, "Would you mind if I sent this to you?  Please?"

"Oh my dear, I would love that. I would love that memory. Thank you so much. Aren't you so thoughtful? It means a lot to me."

And so tomorrow, I will go to the post office, with a package for Kay.

But today.  Today I experienced so much joy that I want to hold on to for a very very long time.  Today I was reminded that just because something is old, unused or left for trash, doesn't mean that it isn't of immeasurable value to someone else.

We just need to be the ones that are willing to see its beauty, amongst the rubbish.

For the correspondence enthusiast // Your best guess appreciated.

I sent a letter to a pen pal yesterday with a old receipt enclosed. The patron had purchased a few dozen eggs, I believe.
I asked my pen pal if she was anything like me and was fascinated by how things used to be done.  A large 5x7 piece of paper with lovely font and handwritten items penned. All for some eggs.
In a increasingly paperless world, I revel in finding things like that.  At the very least,  to appreciate the "old days".  Maybe wish for them to return {though I doubt they ever will}?

My brother purchased me a large pack of vintage ephemera, for Christmas.  It had so many surprising and unique scraps, pictures and paper. Some old magazine inserts, letters and game pieces.  I hope to share more of them, soon.

The most mysterious of them all was a Western Union Telegram, sent on July 13th, 1958.  Over 50 years old, it came to me brown, thin and on the verge of ripping. This piece, amongst the several hundred other pieces, was my instant favorite and for good reason.
Firstly, I love the raised words, as they must have been glued down, once typed out.  They are crooked.  Dark ink and uneven.

Secondly, I like the idea of how much effort had to be put into sending correspondence. Without the use of cell phones or internet, people had to wait to hear from others.  I'm sure the anticipation made hearing from someone much sweeter {sidenote: Can you send telegrams anymore? Shouldn't I know this?  Do you?}.

I think the most endearing part about this simple telegram is that we will never know the "what", "who" or "why". As you can see, Kay was wishing Mr. Frizzle {what a name!} good tidings and love, on what seems to be a nerve-wracking day for him.

I began to write a story in my mind, trying to fill in blanks with the limited information I had.

Who is Don Frizzle and how is he related to Kay? Were they two adults that spent their childhoods on the same street, riding bikes and playing jax?  Were their families good friends or perhaps they were high-school sweethearts?  Cross-continental love birds?  Cousins?

And what was Don Frizzle doing on July 13th, 1958, that had him so worried?  Was he taking some kind of exam or leaving for a far away destination?

These are the things I wish I knew but I never will.
Much like I know so little about most of the things I collect. That must be why I continue.  Making up stories to go along with relics is certainly entertaining and perhaps the volumes I write in my mind are the most important word I could write, on the subject.

***

So, do you have a theory on the details of Kay and Mr. Frizzle?  I would love to hear it.

faith // acts // learning you know nothing

I've shared my faith online the whole of my blogging experience and I've never been nervous to do so.  It's such a huge part of who I am but it has been evolving and changing so much that often I look back and wonder if I didn't scare people away, turn people off or seem disingenuous, at times.  I'm recognizing that there is a period of time, usually in ones twenties, when they really do believe they understand and know and have figured out God.  They have all the answers.
I had that time and when I look back, sometimes I see it.
I think that might have been a reason I said goodbye to No.17, in the end.
It didn't feel right anymore.
I didn't know who I was becoming, but I was becoming something else, which is what we should all hope, if it is what God is wanting.

And now I sit here, 32, and realizing I know very little and especially know very little about my faith.  When I say this I mean this.
I don't think that knowing verses and stories and how to lead someone to Christ's forgivness is really knowing your faith.
I believe those are the acts of faith and they are good but they are no longer what I am looking for.  Mainly because I'm no longer driven by appearing that I know what I'm talking about because as I have proven to people and myself, in the past, I don't.
I fail, you fail, we all fail.

When I sat in church this morning, I was filled with emotion that the mere mention of Jesus, hanging on the cross, made tears well up in my eyes and I couldn't control it.
Which is exactly what I feel is wrong with Christianity in America and in the hearts of believers all over.

We want so desperately to control our faith and control understanding and control answers and control perception but we can't and I'm learning {slowly, at times} that is shouldn't strive towards that.
I sat in church this morning and realized I want that overflowing, out of control, emotion for Christ all week. I don't want to look forward to Sundays.  That feeling comes sometimes, on a Wednesday, but it's usually when I'm running out the door.  Or it appears and I choose to tackle laundry rather than talk to my Father.

I try to control it.

Which is odd because I truly don't want to control it and I especially don't want to have answers or even look like I have a few, because when I think I have the answers, I reach the end of my learning and true "knowing" my faith.  That is when faith becomes about acts and that isn't what I want.

I don't even know if all this makes sense to you because often it makes no sense to me.

Which, like I alluded to, might be a very good thing.

//

Happy Sunday, friends.  Keep seeking.

of interest // Happy Weekend!

Happy Weekend, everyone!

There are millions of interesting things online and sometimes it can be very overwhelming but often it can be so enlightening.  I really enjoy coming across websites, stories and tales of subject matter that I am, for the most part, unfamiliar with. Similarily, I love finding items, objects and creations that are different and heartwarming.

I thought I would share a few things I came across, this week, online.  Maybe I'll start sharing once a week.  Sean gave me a pretty journal for Christmas so maybe I'll start listing things and share them?  We'll see!

So, for this week, here are things that caught my eye.  Enjoy!

***

This documentary is intriguing for many reasons but instantly I realized I loved it because of the engrossing passion that this man has, for his craft.  He doesn't spend his time talking about it with others, or questioning paths that similar chefs might be taking.  He is fully dedicated and there is something impressive and ultimately simple about that kind of vision.

Of the many inspiring things that Jiro shares, one of my favorite lines is, "Never complain about your job."  

Note: If you have Amazon Prime, you are able to watch the entire documentary for free!  Huzzah!


JIRO DREAMS OF SUSHI




***

If you are a Downton Abbey devotee, you must be waiting on pins and needles {as am I} for the US debut of Season three.  It's scheduled for tomorrow night, but since it is a 9-11pm showing {on the West coast} and we all have to work the next morning, we are taping it and having a viewing party, with fellow DA lovers, the following evening.

I found THIS article, in the WSJ and loved it.
It's nice to dream, isn't it?

***

I received one of THESE this week and haven't taken it off since.
Comfortable, cute and welcoming.
I recommend.  And I recommend you considering the purchase of all three as you will want to wear them forever.

***

THIS cookbook has caught my eye. A friend, who is a wonderful chef in her own right, had us over on NYE and her husband cooked up one of the recipes.  Man.  It was delicious.  She showed us this cookbook and I wanted to sit down and read it {as I do with all cookbooks}. This one was truly a beautiful book with captivating and colorful pictures and small, interesting anecdotes sprinkled in.
I might have it in my Amazon cart.  Maybe.

***

Please share any fun things you have found, this week and have a delightful weekend!  We are having family dinner, with the neighbors tonight, church tomorrow morning and hopefully enjoying the rain.  Sean will be playing soccer, in the downpour, but I will be inside by the fire.  Naturally.

Off to the estate sales!

Vintage // Attic 17 // Glamour Shot

Happy Friday, everyone!

I wanted to pop in and remind you that my shop has reopened!

Attic 17 is starting to fill up {hopefully daily} with new pieces of vintage.  Over the holiday break I found many treasures. Some to keep and some to sell, but all to share.

Please go take a look and continue to pop in.  I may not update at the same quip as some of the other big sellers, but I'm always here, tinkering with items and hoping to find them happy and loving homes.  If you EVER are on the look out for something specific, don't hesitate to email me and ask.  I love finding things, for others.

In the meantime, head over to the shop and enjoying "window" shopping.

Oh and since the title of the post is "vintage", allow me to share a bit of Vintage Rachel.
Circa 1991.

You're welcome.

 Happy Weekend!

I just can't help myself.

Privacy issues have been a concern of mine, within the past months and so I have slowly posted less and less, about the girls.

But I also understand that many of you have been reading since BEFORE Kensington was born and like hearing about both of my sweet girls so I don't want you to think I'm not sharing for any other reason.  There are times I get nervous about posting multitudes of photos on the web, both of the girls and our family life.  Then there's other days where I throw caution to the wind and post a picture of myself in my pajamas on Instagram.  What can I say?  I'm a revolving door of thought.

***

Kensington started Martial Arts last evening.

She was so very excited {she has talked about taking "karate" and horseback riding for months} and so we made an appointment to try a local studio.  We arrived and she sat quietly and watched the current class.  She didn't say a word and just stared so I began to think she might be afraid.

When it was her turn, she ran out on the mat, stood there and followed all directions.  She said "Yes Sir!" approx 100 times and didn't dare disobey.
Not only was she well behaved but Sean and I look at each other more than several times and whispered, "She's actually pretty good at this!"

And she was!
She has good balance and confidence so some of the exercises came naturally.

Without sounding "braggy" {which I'm pretty sure I've already done and locked up}, I was so proud of her that she tried her hardest but also proud that she was good at it.  Is that wrong?  I'm sure I would have been just as proud of her had she fallen on her face, as long as she tried her darndest, but I couldn't help but have a VERY wide smile as she executed three consecutive highkicks, with pretty good form.  When she is this young and trying all kinds of new things, it's pretty neat to see her discover something that she enjoys and excels in.

I'm hoping all moms feel this way.  Then I had that thought, "What if she's really horrible at this and I'm seeing through MOM glasses?!"  But I don't think that's it.
What I think it is?
Me over-thinking things, that's what.

Oh well.  I don't care.  I was so happy for her.
She ran off the mat {flashing the thumbs-up sign on her way} and sat down next to me.  When I asked, "So?  Do you want to do continue karate classes?"  She simply answered, "Forever".

Done and Done.

****

Oh and this picture?  Well, wouldn't you post it?  I mean, come on.
If ever there was a photo that explained my Frankie, it's this one.

Happy Thursday, everyone!
Tell me something good.

For the correspondence enthusiast.

{stocking spoils, 2012}

Each year, since we've been married, Sean has assigned a theme to my stocking. One year we had a $35.00 budget for stockings AND gifts and he made it work.  There have been years of abundance and very lean years.  No matter what the financial situation, Sean proves that thoughtfulness will always outweigh and replace costly gifts.
There was a year where "Books" was the theme.  Last year was "Running".  One of my favorites was "Forward Thinking".  I wish I had the time to list all of the small tokens he finds and wraps.  Each one holding a small story of how he thought it pertained to the receiver {yours truly}.

This year, appropriately, my stockings theme was "Letter".
I knew this would be the theme.  I just knew it.
I have been spending so much time, the past few months, writing to people.  Friends, family and people I want to know better.  I write small cards and long letters but with each one, I find out more about myself, {yes, EACH one reveals something} and I am also able to send a small message to someone else. Letting them know, at the very least, they are being thought of.

On the topic of letters...do you have a Pen Pal?  If you don't, I would recommend it.  I have several now and while that could seem overwhelming, it doesn't have to be. You can start with one.  Each of my three Pen Pals are so special to me.  One I met through blogging, one I "met" on Pinterest but we actually went to high school together and one I applied for, through the LWA.  Each week I write them a letter.  It stretches me and also causes me to pause when I have to explain my life and why we choose certain paths and live a specific way.  One of my Pen Pals and I live very opposite lives and it grows me to discuss the journey with her.

All this to say....letter writing is a joy, no matter what form it comes in.

In case you would like to add to your letter writing desk, below are the links to several of the items Sean purchased me.

The 7 year pen
Crane and Co. Handpainted Border Boxed notecards
Pony Express Postcards by Rifle Paper Co.
Sealing Wax {not the same as what I got, but what fun}!


Have a wonderful Wednesday, everyone.  I suspect that you are getting back to reality today like I am?  

to love.

I've thought of about a hundred different titles and directions I could go, with this first post of 2013.

I felt pressure to come up with a grand post about our lovely holiday and all of my many resolutions for the New Year.  This 2013 year, that we have already begun {?!!}

The more I thought about it, the more my mind kept turning back to only one thing.

Love.

"Just love".

I feel as though the steam engine that I have observed myself {and many others} to have boarded, in the past years, is slowing and we are all jumping off.  Maybe it's simply because myself and those around me are all aging and with age comes wisdom {or so I'm hoping}.  We are realizing that living and loving are the best things and the things which everything else is born from.
Purpose derived from love looks wildly different than purpose derived from self.

Imagine if I {and possibly you} only had one resolution and that was to LOVE.

Not so much, "Love you, BFF!  You're awesome!  Let's get appetizers and talk!"

Not like that but like really LOVED all that is around you and within you and for you.
I would like to do that and do it without reservation and without agenda and without resentment but it's really hard for me.  I want to withhold at times {nasty habit of mine} because others don't give it to me and I'm a faulty creature, I know.  Sometimes I want to not love because it is hard when I feel it is wasted and unobserved.  I want to ignore the love that others need because it causes me heartache or moments of time or minor/major inconveniences.  I want to stop loving if someone shows me no love. 
Do you see the problem with all of those statements?  I do.
They all start with "I".  Loving has so little to do with me.  It has to do with extending it to others.

Really, I want to love this year.
And not just because it's January 1 because really....today is  just another day.  Another new year begins tomorrow morning and the morning after that and the morning after that.  It's always a new set of 365.  Today isn't the hugest deal, really.

I want to love because when I love, like Christ loved, unabashedly and without barrier.....I am the most happy.  This last year was a happy year beausse I gave up on loving things that are unimportant and self serving and pressed into loving people, purposes and ideas.

People that are around me.
Purposes that are changing the world.  And purposes that are changing small places within it.
Ideas that are ignored but shine the light of Christ.

I don't have lists of resolutions this year and I want to take each day as it comes.
Morning by morning and day by day I want peace and kindness and love.

I do know that each day I want LOVE in it.  If I love everyone around me, the way the Lord asks me to, I'm pretty sure that I will look back with satisfaction and gratitude, on December 31st, 2013, no matter what comes my way.