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I tend to do my best thinking and writing in the morning. Before little voices and to-do lists take up their space in my head and crowd out those ethereal threads of thought that used to come effortlessly. But my mornings are now full of packing lunches and combing hair and serving vitamins with breakfast and have you brushed your teeth?

I've been letting my photos speak for me. I hope you don't mind.

There is still a hermit recluse writer living inside my skull, and she comes out to threaten me with angry words every so often. She has even mentioned bodily harm to my camera, since I keep using it as a blog crutch. I tell her often that her time will come, but my kids have to take first place. That usually calms her down for at least a week or two.

My Funny Valentine and a hand-made treasure, my Grandma's yellow bird, With One Accord, Threads, the Letter T, Old Painted Landscape, Well-loved Doorknob, Forever Young next to Forever Old Spoons, Mincemeat, Yarn, Rusty Screen keeping Treasures un-dusty.

Lately

A little Mexican Nativity- Souvenir of my Youth, Tarnish and Twinkle Lights, Knit Stockings, Christmas Songbooks, Fun Times with my Band, Low-lit Barn, Forestry People from across the State (award not given for tall-ness), Bitter Cold, Future Holiday Trees lit in the Night, Glowing House and Stars, Crabapples Hanging on despite Winter, Festive Shadows on the Ceiling, and the Girl and I out for a Frosty Walk ("Wook, Mama! My Shadow is almost as big as yours!").

Oh... and you're going to love it... this stitcher, having removed lamp from beside the stitching chair to make room for the Christmas tree, can now be found most evenings, working her fingers by headlamp light... gotta keep those priorities in perspective, eh?

 You can thank the Farmboy and his fancy phone for this picture.

Eight

I don't know how it happens, this swift passing of time.

One day he's small and snuggled in my arms, and the next, he's grown so big he can knock me down with his exuberant hugging if I don't brace my feet in a hurry. Still sweet as honey and growing more clever by the second, my baby boy, the one that scared us with his early, so-tiny entrance into the world, is officially eight years old today.

My sweet Boy, I love you to all the Super Mario Galaxies and back.
Happy You Day!

Finding Inspiration in Coffee

An artist friend of mine (we go all the way back to high school) hosts an art journaling blog.

Now, I am not an art journalist. Yes, I do keep a journal, and have off and on for years, but its pretty much about writing, and not art. So when my friend asked if I would be a guest host for this year, I was completely confused and unsure what I could possibly contribute.

I think perhaps I've started to "get" it, though, and am thankful that she has made allowances for those of us that prefer to let our cameras capture the art in life.

Twice monthly, she asks for us to either journal or photograph in response to a specific theme, the year's overall theme being in collaboration with Monday Mugshots, so the posts also need to incorporate mugs or coffee in some way.

In response to the theme "What if..." this is what I posted:

 What if... about a year into my tenure at Boyd Coffee Company...

What if... I had taken that job offer in Colorado...

Would he have hunted me down as he says?

Would my last name start with a "T"?

Would my interest in antiques, papercutting, stitching have been encouraged?

Would those two Littles (see their silhouettes on the mantle) be mine?

Would I be ever grateful to a coffee company for playing matchmaker?

What if...

Texture

What does a girl do, when she has nothing exciting to say, no new recipes to share, and its too wet to go out and get garden photos?  She walks around the house with a camera and tries to capture the texture of her surroundings.

Buttons in jars...

Cozy quilt made by her sister...

Bread boards...

Estate oil paint and Victorian needlework...

Thread spools...

Intricate crochet-work...

Old painted basket (this one is sized for wallpaper, feel free to grab and use it)...

Well-loved Duck Decoy...

Mug painted by her Grandma...

Old mirror...

Old basket...

Lace...

Papercutting...

Painted box...

Perhaps tomorrow I'll have something truly exciting to share with you... like a new pattern. Keep your fingers crossed that my today is more productive than my yesterday!

Curious

This Christmas gift came to me all the way from Maine.

It was dug out from the bottom of a basket full of letter balls found at an antique store.

Another T for my collection.

But we are all stumped, including the lovely that spent time digging until she found a T!

Does anyone out there have an idea what its original purpose might have been?

UPDATE: I think we may have our answer. My first hunch, based on the weight and feel and the chips on one side, was that it was some sort of a game or lottery ball. Then Debbie left a comment telling us that she is sure that it is a "Carpet Bowl". I have done some searching online, and have yet to find a carpet bowl with letters on it, but everything else about it seems to fit the description. So, for now, I am the proud owner of a "Letter T Carpet Bowl". If anyone else finds more information, please let me know!

UPDATE UPDATE: Well, now it is growing clear... my beloved "Letter T Carpet Bowl" appears to be a reproduction, possibly made by Ballard Designs, Pottery Barn, or Coldwater Creek. All three had sets for sale a few years ago. They look fabulous all gathered together. But I think I'll keep mine just the way it is. Regardless of whether mine is original or a copy, I love having it as part of my mantle arrangement.

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