Philippians goes cowboy & Indian

I found this while cleaning- it’s from a college course on philipians that we took. We were required to “tell the story” in a creative way for an assigned passage. I got Philipians 1

I think she wants to go somewhere….

The hound of sun-baskingville

 

Watercolor splots

Every now and again it’s good to just be a little abstract. I was sick in bed with a cold unable to sleep so I dripped watercolors on paper. (It’s about all my brain could handle at the time.) I started splotting so I could work on a webdesign for Em:

 

Rainy Day

I’ve been listening to this all morning. I think I have a thing for songs sung while laying on pavement since it it reminds me of one of my favorite songs by Snowpatrol, chasing cars. I just found out that Snow Patrol and Florence and the Machine are going to be playing together in Ireland. Never have I wanted to see a show so bad.

Bruno Prints

Coming soon to an etsy shop near you… it’s Bruno for the wall.

Fill the hedgehog shaped void in your heart TODAY!

whew- okay minus the cheese.

really.

Do you think these would sell if I printed a few?

or are we the only ones who love sleeping under a giant hedgehog print…?   

snuggles

well I’ll be…

Our independent playful, somewhat stubborn dog is cuddling.

Juneau just doesn’t do this willingly…it’s very strange…so strange that we looked up to see what was wrong with her. She’s going through yet another false pregnancy but this time her symptoms were so extreme, we thought we had a different dog. Instead of her usual antics, chasing of milk cartons and dancing for attention, she’s like a drugged koala bear. Mopey and looking for snuggles, mothering socks.  Not interested in playing at all. And while we love how chill she’s become, we miss our playful friend. Apparently this is common for about 60% of non spayed dogs and is due to hormonal imbalance. Wolves in the wild actually use this phenomenon to have multiple surrogate mothers nursing one litter of puppies.

Valentine’s Day Dough

Here’s a little update on what happened on valentine’s week in household scruggers.

Charley worked. I worked. The end. Option 1.  Insert rant on working. Option 2: Be positive, We have jobs! it ain’t all that bad and atleast I’m not in an office. (extra perks: crayons, outdoor outings and I get climbed on like a jungle gym).

I did get a sweet little valentine from “butterfly princess” (you know, the 6 year old I nanny) and it was followed by a few warm fuzzy feeling. We’ve been doing tons of valentine’s day crafts to keep occupied, along with some bike riding. And while I didn’t get a valentine from my two year old, I am constantly being offered his collection of “boogies”. Which in boy language is pretty much sharing the love, right?

Charley’s baking theme this week has been  doughnut obsession. He’s tried several different doughnut recipes this week…I’m encouraging him to keep going and find that perfect one (even though they were all perfectly tasty.)

Oh and the sugary-est-most-awesome surprise this past week was my three best friends dropping in to visit on Sunday. It’s been so long since we’ve had hang out time just the four of us. Wedged into a stressful pattern, it was a great little break. Not to mention there’s a surplus of men around here and I was so grateful to hang out with some females. 

Text work

 

Some old Indesign banner/logo/text stuff ….

 

Sheepskin Model

 

Lets just say, if you come home slightly inebriated … I will take advantage of your willingness to do stupid things for a camera.

 

I tossed him the sheepskin, and told him to Smize:

Will work for food

We call this trick: “the sea turtle”. She can stand on her hind legs like that for several seconds…it’s pretty impressive. It only works if you have a good bribe thought. Huskies don’t work if there is no gain.

Harvest Pork Chops and Mac

The other night charley made us pork chops seasoned with a little salt and spice, then poured a reduction of blue moon’s winter harvest ale. ( he added a little sugar to get that salty sweet groove going on). He made the mac and cheese with cream cheese and white cheddar. It was de-lish. He told me I wasn’t allowed to take a picture because it wasn’t pretty so….shh nobody tell him.

Everyone has a story

Charleston is two faced.

A history of the wealthy pouring their coins into brightly painted facades, merchandisers, and mansions lining the cobblestone streets. There is  a repertoire of “dandies” to be sought and your average tourist are here to look at it. Here is the prim and proper. the manicured ivy coiling along the wall… the BMW's parked in narrow streets sharing with the quaint horse and carriage. boasting,  pride, cultural richness the buildings themselves reflect the prep of the people within. Shoppers pour daily from esteemed shops and muse over the number of stars they’ve received in the local magazines (and by local, I mean certain sections of town).

but flip a coin. blink an eye.

There are shacks,  hidden along the main drive as to push our tourists towards “the good stuff”.  Aimless wanderers by the plenty squatted on street curbs. They, (the jobless, the homeless) live in the abandoned houses once owned by the upper class. .

I realize that it’s like this in any city. The two worlds of rich and poor. but perhaps it’s because we are in the south that it seems so surprising. we are culturally so behind. So stuck in the past. Two sides.

This is Bernard.

He has no job and no home. he spends his day looking for quarters so he can buy cigarettes and booze. he will sit on the porch of an abandoned house for most of the day with the community of others like himself.

Sometimes I catch myself thinking, oh there goes the Hobo herd, But there’s something wrong in my thinking.

I am not a compassionate person by nature, nor do I actively pity. Which is why a story is so crucial in my heart. I feel like stories are my way of making connections…getting back in touch with reality…comparing myself and being able to step in ones shoes. Listening to someone’s story will often break compassion back into to me. But what happens when you hear someone’s story and you judge with negativity? The humanity has been put back into their situation and still you have no pity. You see them as lazy and wretched.  You disagree with their choices and their lack of desire to do better.

At first thought, I thought of the hobo’s collectively, a collective nuisance. Go find work. Earn it instead of begging. I churn in anger for someone living at the expense of other. But something inside me darkens and I know that I am wrong. These are people. these are souls. I have  a hard time feeling sorry for someone who doesn’t try. but it’s  not for me to judge. I don’t know their story. I don’t know their heart. AND Even with their stories in hand,  it is not for me to judge. We are all like these men. Aimless, broken, and homeless. That’s why we need the love of Christ.

You are not a hobo, You are a person.

…and every person is a hobo…we weren’t meant for this world.

and when it really comes down to it, rich or poor. With a mansion or a hole in the wall. we’re still broken people. I’d venture to say that some of the richest people I’ve met are the most broken and some will never acknowledge it as they float through their pleasantries. Perspective wise this has helped me a great deal….so I thought I’d share my thoughts. I want God to change this mindset within me…to stop treating certain people like poison and remember that we are all in need of a Redeemer.

Oi Bonny Campfire

…

Oi bonny campfire

you’ve been kindled in my chest

and leave me with a burning desire

to romp beyond my nest.

…

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I can’t help but to laugh.

 

I have a lot of thoughts on dating in general. Perhaps one day when I’m not on a time crunch I’ll write out a few of them. Yall should seriously pop over to old enough for fairy tales’s post on Christian dating though. It’s pretty sweet.