Anticipation.

How it always ends up.

The mystery shoveler-- really it's only Bobby with a Romanian rabbit fur hat he loves... I just wonder what the neighbors think.

We're smart--we stay inside where it's warm.

Somehow unpacking the garage never happened. Again.

Snow dinner.

Post dinner run.

And back again.

...for the apparently huge winter storm of the year to hit and snow us in all weekend.

I'm quite thrilled. Boxes in the garage might finally find a home. All of the family's clothes piled in the corner of my room, clean mind you, might get put away.

Then again, it will be a long weekend. We'll see what really gets done... this odd woman (yes, me) is getting a kick out of painting on pants, for goodness sake! Where are my priorities??

Teething times three (yes, Johanna's molars, too) creates an interesting situation for me. But not an entirely new situation for me. It just means I become much more needed than the other very "needed" days.

So we've adapted this week. The neediest child sits on Mommy's lap while Caroline is coaxed to cheer up the ones next in line. She and I are a good team.

So these pants were sewn for that special helper whom I've been promising them to.

Cropped and lace detailed--perfect for the coming spring. But the season wouldn't make any difference to her. On went the rain boots and the outfit was complete.

And while I was making her pants...

the little ones were needing a pick-me-up, you know, teething their first teeth and all.

Some are here to stay and others will find their home else where.

With the great innovations of the last century, pen and paper are seldom used in modern day correspondences.

To sit down and write a letter means having the paper, pen, penmanship, and real thoughts to share. It means thinking through your thoughts before they are passed from mind to pen.

Write. And write some more, I'll tell my children. Write your thoughts and send them. Send a note, write a thank you, grow with a cousin miles and miles away through a personal letter.

This writing tray (which is a resurrected Amazon box) holds a stash of homemade cards, envelopes, stamps, and pen; everything all in one place to inspire writing.


Some of my favorite cards:

Sometimes emailing is too easy to communicate by. Too impersonal. At least in this household I want to spend some quiet afternoons writing, the old fashioned way, my feelings and actually using my mailbox for outgoing mail instead of just for bills.

After sorting through literally thousands of photos from the year 2009, I've chosen my all time favorites. Most of them made it into the "favorites" because they visually speak of childhood and innocence. So of course, most of them are photos of my children thriving and discovering last year.

I have a plan for all of these photos, many of which I loved so much I ordered multiples of.

Some made it into frames, like I'd mentioned before.

The rest have a very specific purpose. One which is almost ready to be revealed except for my part, which will take some possible gluing, sewing, or something to assemble a suitable box. (Any guesses?)

All the while, there are new memories being made, even now, with picnics by the fire.


To be continued...

Do you remember that Dr. Seuss' book-- "Oh, the Places You'll Go?" That is what this pictorial fabric reminds me of.


So the playroom. There is so much love in that room I can't stand it! I mean, I am more in love with that room than the four girls combined. And for good reason. Because this, below, is technically a part of the playroom.

Kids push baby strollers and cook with play food while I am singing to my heart's content so close to them, stitching away.

A couple little projects for this room: this cute and yet, odd looking creature of a bookend. The bottom is stuffed with beans and a painted on face completes it. I would of liked to make fifteen of these and just placed them around the house, but Bobby wasn't too up on the idea.

And framing Caroline's portrait of her and her best friend Johanna had to be placed right next to their photo together. Of course, at little people height--this is their room, after all.