Two Immensely Flattering Photos of My Own Self

Millie heard me cackling to myself as I finished painting the bloody tail bandages and took this picture. A happy lunatic!

Biiiiiiiig belly.

Not Peter Pan's Collar

If you ever want to make your own old-fashioned collars (because it's probably on your to-do list right now!), here's how I did it.

Draw what shape you want on a square of folded fabric, with the collar's center on the fabric fold.

Cut out two sloppy pieces from the fabric, along with interfacing to match, if you want the collar to hold its shape better (which we do).

I wanted Aidan's slightly more rounded than Zeke's. This is what Aidan's looked like.

Pin right sides together (two layers of fabric collar together on the inside, interfacing on the outside).

Sew together with 1/4 seam, leaving a hole for turning right-side-out.

Turn right side out and topstitch around all the edges, tucking in raw edges and enclosing the hole as you do so.

 

Sunbonnet Sue

And to make your own bonnet (also a pressing need this time of year), you can do this.

Buy a cheap straw hat from the dollar store and cut it like so.  I also took one of the strips I cut off the back and sewed it to the front brim in order to make the brim more substantial. (See below.)

Zig-zag stitch around all the cut portions so it doesn't unravel.

Trim the raw edges with bias tape or trim of your choosing.

Thread a ribbon through the hat and, to check the fit, snatch your favorite model who's standing too close by to escape in time.

Then make him stand there while you use a hot glue gun to trim it with flowers, silver bells, and shells. 

Voila.

 

Real Time Phone Post

When you've been busy all morning, and it's ELEVEN O'CLOCK and you still haven't made time to change out of pajamas, but you're not likely to anytime soon because now there's the complication of this sweetest sleeping bundle. More effective (and nicer!) than a pair of leg irons.

Happy Thanksgiving!

I'm supposed to be peeling potatoes right now, not plopping a baby on a blanket in bad lighting and then blogging snapshots!

I can't help myself. One day shy of two weeks old, our little Ransom is already sprouting plump cheeks.

Gratitude spills over. Thank you, Father, for all these our gifts.

 

Little R.A. of Sunshine

Sunbeam is here!

Sunbeam joined us on the the outside on Friday, November 13th.

5:15 p.m.
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21 inches from crown to toe
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7 pounds, 14 ounces of sweet perfection

 

After painfully weeding out names I love, we finally found his.

Ransom Arthur Owen, the greatest gift.

A Sunbeam for Popsy

After Dad died, I looked through his collection of old calendars and tried to peer into his mind through the notes and doodles he put on certain dates. On the anniversary of my Grandpa Johnson's death, Dad had a bare notation-- "Dad"-- with a simple crying face. It sunk deeply, in part because of Dad's complex relationship with his father, and also because he was reticent to express this sorrow in words.

Ever since, in my planners, I've followed suit.

Yesterday was the day we marked Dad's exit from earth, and today is Sunbeam's due date. Death, life, grief, joy-- we get pieces of it all here on earth, sometimes jumbled all together.

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I had a doctor's appointment today, ran (hobbled) errands for most of the day, and before I changed into scruffy work clothes to descend into the Basement of Horror and Doom, I asked Millie to take a few pictures of this baby still in belly, perhaps for the last time, on an auspicious day of rain and fog.

We love you, little Sunbeam, indeed.

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We love you, too, Dad, and miss you still.

Someday you'll meet this baby!

 

2020 Hallowe'en GIF-- Because Now It's Tradition

 

The best part is that Millie had no idea I was trying to murder her again.  She was blind, after all.

September Brought October

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The light slants golden, and all the colors swell in one last hurrah. October has always been my favorite month, though now that I'm older, I can become heady on wind and wildness one day while dreading cold and dark the next. 

Taking each day as it comes is better than craning down the path. Full-bellied as I am, perhaps for the last time, this advice serves well. Sink into the joys of each day and don't linger too long over the sorrows. Each new day will have its own.

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Any snapshot marked thus  ** underneath was taken by Mildred. Yup.  I stole all the best pictures from my daughter, but, hey, I haven't been picking up the camera much, but I still want shotsnaps to look pretty, so I do what I must.