Autumn 2011 Pumpkin

I have grown up with savory childhood memories of love, laughter and creativity.  My family carried on our own traditions, miniscule to others but expansive in my life.  Halloween marked for us some fun traditions such as our pumpkin hunt.  My brother and I would get very excited for this and we took it quite seriously. 

Typically it would be a weekend day and my parents would take my brother and I to a huge field spilling with bright orange pumpkins of all shapes, sizes, shades, inclusive of imperfections and mud.  It was always such a treat to pick our pumpkins.  We would drive about 30 minutes to get to the best pumpkin patch.  Seemed like everything my family did included driving a distance, and only added to the precious time of togetherness.  My brother and I would step out of our car and gaze into the field, each of us already having an idea of what we were looking for and off we rushed into this field of orange.  It had to be round, it had to lean in the right direction and have a good surface to reflect our pumpkin carving designs.  We learned quickly not to pick it up by the stem, only to ruin a perfectly good pumpkin.  What’s a festive pumpkin without a stem? 

Derek and I would call for our parents to check out our finds; to “ooh” and “ahh”  in amazement and encourage our excitement and belief that we did in fact have the two best pumpkins in the patch.  After much praise, pride and approval, we would hold our pumpkins close to our chests, wobbling to the farm stand as if we were holding boulders and with grins we were off to carve.  We gutted and Dad carved.  He made the most intricate designs and we were proud.

Today, where we used to pick pumpkins stands a new church building, but every time I pass it, I will never forget all our pumpkin memories. 

My friend and I decided to have our own pumpkin carving party.  I went to a small farm and gazed across the field.  Sure enough, the perfect pumpkin caught my eye again.  This time I carved the pumpkin and enjoyed the creative day with a sweet friend.

What designs did you choose this year?

Happy Carving

Fullness of Life

“We are often tired, but I believe it is a result of the abundance of our lives.  It is not busy, but it is full.”  These are the first lines I read of a letter received from close family like friends.  Profound, wouldn’t you agree? 

What are we doing with our lives?  What am I doing with my life?  Are we living abundant lives, and what does this look like?  So many questions, so much time to ponder, but I do not believe the answer is that difficult to find. 

I’ll be honest with you, I have been blue lately and can easily blame my frustration on where I am in life.  Comparing myself to others is like second nature and often I long to be on my neighbors green grass.  True, my work life makes it difficult to be consistent with friends, family and in service opportunities, but I have an option of reactions of heart.  How do I choose to make my life full and how does that fullness manifest itself in my life?  Maybe looking to where fullness comes from should be the first response in the search.

We all have searched high and low for this answer to fullness in life and I believe my friend has described it well, “it is not busy but full.”  It’s not necessarily about filling all of your moments with something to do, but our innate nature, our souls know there is more to it than this, no one can deny this.  There is a value to our lives that we give, a longing for something deeper, a desire for connection, and when we are missing it in our lives, it reflects, and differently for each person. 

Psalm 16:11, “You make known to me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore.”

I love the Psalms; they are beautiful expressions of truth.  Beautiful lyrical expressions of souls that are poured out by writers shared with their readers.  And they are most wonderful because they are of the inspired word of God.  We are told that there is fullness of joy and that God knows that path of our life.  This is only one verse of the Bible proclaiming this truth, but God has not left us with one verse, but with truths occurred, testimonies of lives lived, encouragement through parables and stories and words spoken by a God who loves and lives the Gospel.  He is different and says come. 

So how should I make my life full?  Truthfully, I miss people; I have a heart for people and a need to be around them, to meet new people, to share in their stories and to love them.  That is just who I am and when I cannot do this in conventional ways, searching for unconventional ways almost makes me wary.  Do you ever feel like you are not doing what you are meant to?  I do.  But is that pride?  I don’t know, but I know God and friends teach me and counsel me to help shape and make me better.

Ultimately, your and my fullness must come from the source of the One who knows our path of life.  Only in His presence is their fullness of joy and fullness of life.  So quickly, very quickly, I look left and right and see what I think is greener grass, only to be fooled by a mirage in the desert, pulling me away from trust in the One who knows my path.  Sometimes the path seems to have long flat moments.  I’m not sure if they are supposed to be flat or we are supposed to seize opportunities along the path; I’m thinking the latter.

This path is not as long as I’m making it out to be so I have to keep my eyes on God who knows and serve along the way.

Sounds of the Cicada

Children calling for one another down the block, the whizzing of a bicycle and summer wind whisking through crisp, green leaves, splashing of pools and roaring ocean waves are all sounds of summer to me. One sound of summer in particular sends me as if time traveling back to my childhood summer ease; the Cicada bug. Oh, these insects are nothing short of creepy, crawly, extraterrestrial looking creatures, but their buzzing crescendo puts me in a place of magical summer memories.

Summertime to me meant vacation in Atlantic Beach, North Carolina, where the only sense of time I had was judged by the suns rising and setting. I knew when I began to hear the call of the cicada that it was soon time to leave for North Carolina, just as if the insect was itself a seasonal alarm clock.

The night before we left was always a frenzy at my house. My mom would have us lay out our weeks outfits for the trip, making sure we had all we needed (and extra for those bound to happen watermelon stains). Vacation was not a time for laundry! Boxes of spices were packed for cooking, the umbrella was rolled tightly and ready to shield us from heat, chairs were folded neatly, their creaky hinges in need of summer moisture and PLENTY of sunscreen for us very fair folk. My brother and I packed our small canvas bags for the long 12 hour journey to our seaside haven filled with coloring books, gameboys, books to read, and our favorite toys. Last but not least, the camera and kite. What’s an Atlantic Beach Vacation without sending a kite souring as high as the string allows and appearing as small as an ant up in the sky? I’d say it’s incomplete.

“Alright you two,” my mom would say, “Off to bed.” Of course these were the worst words a child could hear right before leaving on an exciting journey. Having shared a room, my brother and I would talk about all the things we planned to do in Atlantic Beach after we were sent to bed. We’d talk about last year, and how we were more excited than ever this year (and every year we had that conversation), about the new things we wanted to try and the old things we didn’t want to do any longer. The morning seemed like it would never come, and tiredness never seemed to set in. But before we knew it, Mom and Dad were tapping our shoulders with smiles, “Hey kids, it’s time to get up for vacation.” I think those smiles they received were the best gifts we could ever give to them.

Our 3am departure time meant it would still be dark, which for some reason was very exciting. It seemed like no one was up, only truckers on the highway, and that we pretty much ruled the roads. I remember once asking my Dad if I could scream out the window because I was so excited; he obliged and it was thrilling. There was no other way I could show my excitement better than that at the time. Every state we passed through was one step closer to our own little paradise, but even when crossing into North Carolina, it was not yet “vacation.” Our vacation mark came when we crossed the bridge leading us to Atlantic Beach. The tires beating against the cement road creating rhythm as if it was our personal anthem leading us to our dream.

“Finally, we’re here,” we’d shout as kids with our parents joining in our silliness. We’d pass Wings and Eagles (the ocean chachki department stores), we’d pass the hotels and the piers, the restaurants and our favorite children’s theme park called Jungle Land. The best moment of it all was opening up our condo door, running through the house to see if there was anything new, which of course there was not, and then as if we were about to explode with excitement ask, “Can we go see the water?” My Dad would take us down, and it only took 7 minutes before we were completely soaked in our full clothing, because obviously there was no time to unpack any bathing suites; the ocean might run away if we did that. The week was just beginning and I had the Cicada to thank as my seasonal alarm clock, counting down those minutes to arrival.

I’m so thankful that my parents invested so much into us as children. Their time and attention was the best treat, gift and language of love anyone can show.

Featured Artistry : JULY : Meli Nadia

As promised, I have begun a new blog subject entitled “Featured Artistry” in which I will focus monthly on one artist whom I enjoy and admire. This will be anything from music, to art, photography, crafting, landscaping, pottery, etc.

July’s artist is Meli Nadia Photography

{An International Wedding & Lifestyle Photographer}

Her blog states “She loves the feel of memory,” and that memory is what drew her towards photography. She is based in Germany, but proudly supports her passport to Italy.

I found Meli Nadia via facebook from a German friend, and was captivated by her work from the moment I clicked through the photo albums. Her photography is whimsical and full of life. Love and joy exudes from her work and she truly has a skillful eye. She captures the little moments full of grandeur emotion. She knows when to snap the shutter to capture the memories that will forever be in people’s hearts.

If you liked these two photos by Meli Nadia, check out her blog and the Meli Nadia Facebook Page. She wants nothing more than to share memories.

Featured Artist

Beauty!

I once heard a lecture discussing the relativity of beauty, and the question has it been lost? I think there is beauty everywhere; lost is not the problem, but sometimes we are missing it in our lives. A beautiful God created beautiful things. Nature, talents, personalities, people. Beauty is just dancing around us and often we do not take time to notice.

My intention, in part in this blog, is to bring your attention to beauty as my eye sees it. I'm going to begin a monthly series focus on an eye capturing artist and share their talents with you. I hope your eye will begin to appreciate the beauty I see.

Can't wait to share the first artist. Just waiting for her permission to be featured. Hang tight.

Loves in Ohio: Pt. 5

Time for a Wedding

When I first met her in third grade, I told her to get out of my seat. She went home and told her mom that there was a mean girl at school that yelled at her to get out of her desk. And that was the beginning of our friendship.

Ironically our names are both Cassandra, though her name is pronounced with a long 'a' sound. And yes, there is a difference. We had spent many fun years together in NJ, playing with dolls, using our imaginations and riding bikes down to the corner market for slurpees. These were our epic adventures.

The college years came along, as did boys, one in particular captured her heart. He treasured her and loved her more than himself, and she did the same. From the moment she mentioned him to me about how he treated her, I could tell there was something different about him for her; that he might possibly be the one for her. Two years later they were engaged to be married.

The wedding ceremony and reception were in a lovely location called Franklin Park Conservatory; just divine for a summer wedding as the roses bloomed and the greenery was lush and vibrant. They were married as the sun began it's setting, the perfect setting. It was the beginning of their life together.

Congratulations to my sister and brother-in-law.

Loves in Ohio: Pt. 4

A Bride to Be Bash

My childhood friend was getting married, and as the Maid of Honor, I had a responsibility to make the bride to be bash a fun night.

Being all the way in NJ and having only graced Columbus a few times in my life, I was on the internet hunt to search for a fun restaurant to celebrate.

I'm quite the adventurous eater, as some of you may know, but it was important to find a place snazzy, delicious and appealing to everyone. Italian seemed to be the best option, but with an upscale venue rather than family atmosphere. Due Amici in downtown Columbus was right on target for what would be appealing to all. They serve everything from pizza to tender and juicy steak. The mixed drinks were classy and the wine list was not too overwhelming.

We dressed up for this special occasion. The bride wore a hot pink dress and did look hot! Sorry men, she's taken. He liked it and put a ring on it.

Dressing up is quite fun

Loves in Ohio: Pt. 3

Ice Cream Flavors of Biblical Proportion.

Only one place in all of Columbus, Ohio, has such fantastic ice cream of epicurism flavor.

Jeni's Splendid Ice Creams.

Located in downtown Columbus in the short north area, a very fun artistic area, we enjoyed ice cream flavors like:

Bourbon Buttered Pecan

Brambleberry Crisp

Pistachio and Honey

Rhubarb and Lime Cardamom

& My favorite

Riesling Pear

(Anything with wine attracts me)

Enjoy these pictures of our little outing :)

(Here we first see personalities, then a tower of ice cream, and the joy of eating it)

(Cute friends posing with Jeni herself, and the rest of us enjoying the sunny decor)

Loves in Ohio: Pt. 2

Touchdown!

Screeching tires added more skid marks to the runway as I landed in Ohio for the first time in two years. It's hard to believe I spent three years of my life in this place. I landed in a very different setting than I went to school, further away from the corn (believe me, I did not mind).

I was antsy to get off the plane, and thankful it was a small one. No long lines to wait on to exit. Soon I would be seeing some of my best friends from college and enjoying a perfect day with them. College friends are the friends you always hear people talk about before you even get to college. They are the friends you get to know quickly, and they as well take the time to know you well quickly. You are people growing together and learning about yourself; starting new journeys with each other by your side.

Two lovely girlfriends me me at the passenger pick up. I was waiting eagerly for that blue hyundai to pull around the bend so I could start waving frantically looking like the eccentric me I like to be at times. Here it came, the blue hyundai filled with two friends, and I could not help but grin ear to ear. We quickly threw the luggage into the car, hugged deeply and hopped in the car to zoom off to Tasi's Cafe for brunch. It was a reunion.

Here we are after feasting on wild berry, apricot and strawberry jam, greek style eggs and a few mimosa's later :)

I bet you cannot wait to read about our epic Ice Cream Adventure.

It's Up Next.

Loves in Ohio: Pt. 1

Three years goes very quickly when you get to spend it with people you love and love you. It has been two years since graduation and finally I was able to touch ground again in Ohio. Other than friends, I did not have a good reason to trek back to the land of corn. Believe me, after living for three ears (I mean years) in and around corn fields, I had my fill. But, it was time to go back for a couple of reasons:

• The Extravagant wedding of my childhood sister/friend
• To spend time with one amazing group of friends
• AND... for a little adventure

The next set of posts will be about my Ohio adventures in the first week of June 2011. I am my grandmother's daughter and my family friend's niece. Like them, I cannot help but shed tears every time I leave loved ones and only wish we could all live in one neighborhood for eternity. This will never happen (although I have heaven to anticipate wonderfully) for me, so time well spent with loved ones holds very heavy weight to my life and my living. This week endowed this to me.

Mini Flower Earrings

This was my first attempt to Mini Flower Earrings and I will post a tutorial for you to follow.

Oh for the love of details. They seem to put the icing on the cake.

Here is my first pair of mini flower earrings.

Let me know what you think.

PS. C'est Tout means "That's Everything" in French

Keko Cafe

Not too far removed from the touristy location of the Empire State Building, you’ll find tucked away on Madison Ave Keko Cafe. This little cafe claims to be French, but I say it’s more of an American/French twist. Never-the-less, it’s a recommendation from the locals and will not disappoint.

My close college friend heard about Keko Cafe through his friends and just longed to take us there for breakfast one morning during our escapade in NYC. The five of us women searched and searched for this Cafe where we were meeting our friend. It was a blustery and FREEZING morning. Corners we turned, and street signs we read, hoping that each direction would bring us closer to Keko. Finally, we found Madison Ave and walked down the street until we could walk no further, delightfully realizing Keko was tucked away just to our left. The small staircase brought us to the welcoming, glass door reading Keko Cafe. Hurriedly we shuffled inside and grabbed as many small tables as possible to fit six.

Keko is a cozy little Cafe, not meant for big parties, and I might say that our party was even too large. It was a relaxed and close setting with friends with mustard-yellow wall color, teapots and teacups displayed on knick-knack shelves, wooden coffee storage bins and pictures of France’s past. The little table tops were made of coper, stained with rings from coffee mugs, but not in a messy way, just enough to make you feel at home.

Crepes were on the menu that day, well they always are, but our bellies were craving a crepe party. We ordered several to share because the options were too appealing to each just have one. Nutella and banana crepes, spinach and feta crepes, fruity crepes, and Mediterranean crepes filled our tables, aligned with sides of bacon, glasses of fresh water and imported coffee and lattes. Conversation and laughter resounded

over our crepes and coffees, a right way to start the day.

It was a delicious morning.

Brooklyn Flea Market

“Art is not a treasure in the past, or an importation from another land, but part of the present life of all living and creating peoples,” -- Franklin D. Roosevelt

To each thing belongs a creator, and to each creator a unique imagination, and not just a scattered, thoughtless, patternless imagination, but one of intelligence and precision. This is what the Brooklyn Flea Market comprises itself.

My good college friends and I took a weekend in Brooklyn to enjoy our as-much-as-possible get-togethers, being that we all live in different states. Since we resided in Brooklyn for the weekend, we just couldn’t pass up a trek to the weekend flea market. My hopes were high; that there would be unique treasures of old and new, creative minds manifesting themselves in the form of art and fashion and homemade food. I can gladly say there were all these things.

Jewelry vendors line the outskirts of the former Williamsburg Savings Bank. The building is frozen in time, filled with new life from the present age, buzzing and bustling with hagglers and onlookers. Clothiers are hidden within the former bank teller windows and a small food court is secured in the old vault. Upstairs you’ll find intriguing jewelry and cufflinks made from old typewriter keys. This is truly a place worth the visit, you will not be bored... only inspired.

I will not pass up going again this summer, as it seems to be a much greater event than in winter.

Phantom of the Opera

A man comes through the theatre doors and adds to the already excited, anticipatory crowd just waiting to be let into the Magical Majestic Theatre. He explains the procedure of what needs to be done as we walk into the theatre, he pokes some fun and riles us up for a Night at the Opera. It was our family Christmas present this year to see a Broadway Musical and our choice was naturally Phantom of the Opera.

The obsession for my Dad wanting us the see this musical began when my brother Derek and I were just of kinder age. Our family vacations took place in Atlantic Beach, NC, where part of the vacation consisted of us going to a child's amusement park called Jungle Land. It was here that may Dad heard the Overture music, from Phantom, playing from a speaker behind a fake gorilla that gave him the desire to have us see the play.

Finally we are let into the theatre. A quick check of our bags, to be sure we're not going to pirate the musical, and we were brought to our seats. "Chips, Water, Wine," an usher speaks eloquently as the audience is seated. As we wait, I look around at the Majestic. The stage props are protected by flowing fabrics to keep the surprise of the play, but the theatre was maintained visible and stunning; I somehow forgot I was in NYC and could not wait to become part of this musical as I interacted in my imagination from my seat.

Women's jewels were the only thing left glittering as the lights dimmed, indicating the time had come; the show MUST begin. After the introductory scene at the auction, the stage curtains began to move away in harmony with the haunting overture music and began to enchant our souls, latching onto something deep inside and intwining me in the story line. I was hooked instantaneously. Words cannot describe the symphonic masterpiece of Andrew Lloyd Webber in the Phantom of the Opera.

Throughout the entire musical I felt more drawn into the performance with each breath of the operatic voices. It was hard not to feel as if you were part of the performance. But as the show much begin, the show also comes to an end. I would recommend this musical to all who appreciate beauty in song and dramatic performances. It was fabulous.

Our night ended with dinner together as a family and was an evening touched by magic.

Traditional Changes

Tradition. Most of us have these in our lives and often they are found around family, friends, birthdays and especially the Christmas Holidays. Folks, I appreciate Tradition because it offers comfort and sanity in our craziness of life. Having similarities to look forward to each year brings satisfaction for some, and breaking away from these things can be difficult.

A normal Christmas Eve spent with the Dobutovich's consists of dinner together, taking part in the candlelight Christmas Eve service and coming home to open stockings, something we've done as children to bascially curb our curiosity till the morning ribbon-ripping session, when our family opened gifts together, and eagerly anticipated my mom's side of the family coming over. A big lunch always ensued followed by more presents and dessert that left us lethargically stuffed and sleepy on our sofas. This year, though, rocked tradition.

Elderly people are carriers of tradition. With them come comfort and stories. They carry a deep love and bind together families as if they were the roots of a brilliant tree. The roots of my mother's side carry many pores of tradition, travel, experience and hardship in their lives. They now also carry a physical longing to be pain free and with their maker.

This year, my grandparents were too elderly to leave the house and were not able to come over on Christmas Day as they once always did. We didn't think they'd be here this year, so having them was a blessing counted. It's like reading an incredible book; when you near the end of the story you are filled with some saddness, but yet you know it's not over. That is how I feel with my grandparents. They are here with us, but some tradition must be changed. The back cover is slowly approaching. But along with a back cover comes the front cover of a new book.

(My Mom's Side of the family came over to sing Christmas Carols with my grandparents on Christmas Eve)

There is much to be read in our storybooks, new traditions to come and seasons filled with fresh air await. I'm not going to deny the saddness the closing of particular traditions leaves me with, but I have discovered the comfort in a crisp new page of life longing to be read aloud.

A Not-So-Far-Away Backyard, NYC

A "Not So Far Away Backyard" is what I think of NYC. It's not just any city, it's The City. A city of lights, one that never sleeps and is layed out like a beautifully orchestrated maze of wonder and surprise. There is more to NYC than Times Square and your kichy coffee shop or Hardrock cafe. If you're one who lives to eat, as I am, you'll appreciate the city for it's fine cuisine at an array of prices. Eating for triple digits a plate is quite available, but so are the single and double digit prices, just as delectable.

In the Month of November, several of my dear friends from College and I went to NYC for an evening. The train is readily accessable from my house to get to NYC Penn Station, and for me, the moment I set foot on that train, it's as if a small adventure is always beginning. Because of the perks of working at a hotel, we got a discounted rate at Marriott in Times Square for the night. Floor 2030 provided nothing short of an incredible view of the city that never sleeps (we were thankful for blackout drapes). People bustling about, coming from all over the world just to enjoy The City.

Our plan was to enjoy each other's company to the fullest. Larinda is from Michigan, Alyssa from Penn and Kena and I from NJ. Not easy distances to live from dear friends, but I will say being apart makes these friendships deeper. Larinda and Kena spent the earlier part of the day waiting in line for Broadway Musical Tickets at the TKTS booth. Jersey boys was our #1 choice, but being too expensive we chose the Musical Rock of Ages. We ate a light dinner (mostly pita bread and salsa, bananas and apples -- a lot of it) then got dressed and ready to see our show. We sang, we cheered, we laughed till we teared all in our discounted orchestra seats. They served us drinks and snacks, amenities that just added to the night being special, or should I say strange. It was a fun, yet strange musical.

After the show Dan the Man met up with us at the Sugar Diner (or some kind of similar name). Originally we planned to go out for dinner, but once we sat down at the diner for coffee, we decided to browse the menu and avoid more traveling just for tasty bite. Nothing beats a Jersey Diner, but this just might have. You win this one NYC -- NYC 1:NJ 478,895,214,364,45.... ;). After a hearty sandwich and soup, we all went for a little dancing. This filled us with laughter and gave us some silly stories.

Come Saturday, after a night on the town, we slept in till 11 and met Dan for brunch at 1:00pm. Hardly brunch, but our stomachs and sleepy bodies thought nothing else would suffice. Brunch was enjoyed around the Upper West Side at a little cafe; we all ordered the same plate, poached eggs, because they just looked so great. Not one of us was dissapointed with this predicament. To end our escapade we toured the Upper West Side and filled each others hearts with time. I must say I am blessed with these friends.

Short is More

Turning a classic into an obsession. I'm talking about coffee and sweet drinks that local coffee shops sell. We love them. They taste so great and keep us coming back for more. Coffee shops have us hooked, right where they want us, and the country in excess we call the United States is practically married to these delicious treats. We have forgotten how to taste and how to be satisfied because we are always welcome to more and more is readily accessible. Well, did you know that there was once a time more was not always available? Our local, yet far removed, neighborhood coffee shop called Starbucks has a history of Less is More.

People in other countries who order a coffee from a local cafe will expect to receive a small 8oz or less cup of purely, fresh brewed coffee and sip on it for a while over conversation, or at the dinner table for dessert or to warm them up in the morning. They know how to taste and respect where the food came from. We have lost that in the United States because we just want more more more more. Starbucks, in its beginnings, had only two sizes called the Short and the Tall. The Tall was created for America to please their excess loving, and has since booted the Short off the charts to make way for the Grande and the Venti. BUT... the Short is still available. It's less expensive and is just enough to enjoy without taking the "sip that pushed you over the edge."

So next time you go to Starbucks, ask for a short. Learn to enjoy without being excessive. Another Canadian coffee compnay called J.J. Bean also offers this size. I do think that J.J. Bean roasts better coffee, but it is not yet in the States. I hope someday it will be, and I hope they stick to their short size, not conforming to excessive standards we have created.

One Manhattan Day

I birthed the idea on Saturday afternoon from the conception of a desire to explore and a need to be with my family. A trip to Manhattan, SoHo to be specific and to be yet more precise... Dean and Deluca.

To all you masters of the mixers, sultans of the spatulas and czars of cooking I believe you comprehend the whimsy of gourmet and over-priced grocers. For some, it's more than just a knife. In fact it's a silver blade which smoothly spreads creamy, churned butter on the crisp on the outside, hearty, yet soft on the inside bread. Now let me just pause to say food is not an obsession of mine, just a part of my life that I take great joy and delight in.

Dean and Deluca welcomes you in with cathedral ceilings and fresh produce right at the entrance. Exotic mushrooms sit in perfect rows as if just picked fresh that morning and waiting to be prepared that evening. For Autumn, pumpkins line the front rows of the grocery garden and remind those who celebrate to be thankful for every scent climbing up your nose. Lying behind this produce garden is a vertical field of flowers, delicately arrange and mindfully prepared to please the eye. As my mom and I took a gander, a kind woman offered her assistance with pride. A glimmering reminder of how blessed she is to have employment she enjoys. Moving further into the jungle of exotic blends we find the coffee square with roasted beans from around the world. As I lift the lids from the coffee jars to breathe deeply, a fresh, crisp fragrance fills my lungs, leaving a calming after shock. Who would think coffee when roasted fresh and well could calm the senses and appease the taste buds. Making my way around the coffee corner is the candy and dried fruit; just looking at the apricots made my mouth water. Sniffing these fruits was all I did while passing them, but the delightful colors have painted a beautiful pallet in my creative mind. Onto the pastures of cheese was next on my list. The counter was high and marble covered with clean glass casings, but not too far to reach and ask for assistance. That day we delved into the purchase of new cheese; a sheep milk cheese, an delightfully aged gouda and a stinky bleu cheese for my dad.

A day worth while because it was spent with my parents and allowed my mind to explore the corners of the world via food through one small yet grand store. Food is a blessing; let us never take it for granted. May it always be used to bring people together and reveal care.

Pillows of Plenty

I have a love of all things soft and cozy; pillows fit that description well. In the attempt to keep me falling off the bed as a baby, my parents surrounded me with pillows which I soon learned to enjoy. I sleep with at least two, but if I had four or five I would not complain. Maybe it's the feeling of security and serenity to me, to be enveloped by a mountain of softness and warmth, or maybe it's the Narnia effect where I can escape into vivid dreamland where no one can find me.

An admiration of soft comfort has now turned into projects and projections of decorations and design. Here is my first hand-stitched flower pillow with hope and desire of more en route. If you're interested, please inquire.

Day Harmonies and Night Melodies

How often do we use the excuse, "I don't have time?" For the most part, I believe this is a lie we have begun to believe. We have been given this precious lyric of time, and we have this incredible responsibility of how we play it. A day can end with no new melodies or harmonies to hum, or we can fill a page with beautiful notes that have created a splendid sound to our souls. I fail often to write music with my time, instead using it on so called "lounging," when really this lounging I partake in leaves me more exhausted than before; more empty and unsatiated.

Have you ever thought of the blessing, the beauty that we were created with precision and carefulness by God and are called to reflect this? To think of a God who is so creative to design our blood vessels, our 7 layers of epidermis, our hair follicles and our colors has also passed this beautiful gift to us. We were created to use our minds and to expand our minds. We were given gifts to be creative which splash color on a canvas in many ways throughout our world. Some are very artistic, many are musical, others are creative in their approaches to life and in their love. Creativity is endless and I can only imagine how incredible it must be to see this world of creativity.

I have found more joy and rejuvenation in creativity than lethargy. In two hours time of reading and painting stories in my mind, or of crafting alone or with some close friends, or of taking pictures or cooking, or working in the garden or cleaning the yard, I have felt these two hours to be reviving like none other.

Create music with your life.