The Wood Connection Giveaway
Right now, The Wood Connection is giving away a $25 gift certificate to a lucky person who likes them on Facebook and shares it with their friends. I don't usually advertise, but I would love to give my friends the opportunity to win this certificate. The Wood Connection has beautiful unfinished and finished furniture, and also does custom pieces in any color you desire. Bookshelves, beds, hutches, cabinets, chairs, tables, rocking chairs. . . you name it. You can also order other pieces through a catalog onsite. I had two bookcases done in a color to match other existing furniture in my home, with the number of shelves and the exact dimensions I needed to fit in the space designated. I LOVE them! My living room, dining area, and kitchen are one long open room, and the shelves also mirror the design of my kitchen cabinets, with arches and crown molding. Even though my kitchen is a different color of wood, they go together and actually help break up the rooms a bit. I also had a custom cabinet done (basically just the cabinet portion of the cabinet/hutch they make) at the dimensions I needed as well and in the same color. Everything was so reasonable, especially for custom pieces. My neighbors down the street liked my furniture so much they ordered some shelves as well, and are very pleased. My next purchase will be a side table with drawers when we've saved enough. I wish I could post a picture, but I'm having a hard time accessing the drive that contains my pictures. I'll update when I can.
Another exciting thing about this store (that I think many of my friends will LOVE) is their craft division. They have so many beautiful/fun/funky finished and unfinished wood crafts and so many different fun projects to do (right now they've got photos up of the cutest Halloween candy box). You can go in for classes or do group projects together if you set up a time. I seldom craft, but I am an appreciater of crafts! I love the stuff The Wood Connection has!
If you would like to learn more about The Wood Connection, or would like to enter to win the certificate, visit their blog here: http://thewoodco.blogspot.com/2011/09/2000-facebook-fans-giveaway.html?spref=fb
Here's the link to their regular business website: http://www.thewoodconnection.com/
Good luck!!
Friday, September 30, 2011
Sunday, September 11, 2011
SEPTEMBER 10, 2001
Ten years ago today
The sun was brilliant
in the sky
The birds sang the
song of a beautiful day
The grass was bright green
The world felt safe
I played with my baby
and my preschooler
And did things like
washing dishes
And reading stories
And taking my husband
to school
Ten years ago today
If I had wanted to
I could have taken my
husband to the airport
Walked with him to
the gate
Kissed him goodbye as
he boarded the plane
And stood with my
girls at the window
Watching until his
plane backed away from the gate
Taxied to the runway
And soared into the
sky
Ten years ago today
We worried about the
economy
(Though the
economists did not)
And the stock market
And the power company
raising our rates
Terrorism was
something that happened in countries far away
That we only knew
from television
Or NPR
Or the BBC
Ten years ago today
There were twin tall
towers that scraped the sky of New
York
The Pentagon had not
been breached
And a crater did not
mar a field in Pennsylvania
Mothers, fathers, wives,
husbands, and children
Spent time together
Talked on the phone
Did not know this day
Would be their last
Ten years ago today
We thought we were
strong
Thought we were great
But we were not
united like we should have been
We did not know how
strong
How humble
Or brave
Or united
We could become
Ten years ago today
The sun was setting
in the sky
The birds sang their
evening song
The grass was a
deepening green
The world felt safe
And the world did not
know--
We did not know--
That we, and the
world,
With the coming dawn,
Would change forever.
Scattering Sunshine. . .On Me
It never fails: whenever I'm grumpy, slightly or otherwise, God sends me a reminder/bright spot. I'm sure I miss the significance of some of them when I'm super-grumpy. Thank heavens today I didn't miss it. While shopping slightly-grumpily at Dick's in
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
"I Had A Great Day"
It was one of THOSE mornings. You know, the kind where you seriously consider asking for a refund. And leaves you wondering how soon you'll be developing a nice, raging ulcer.
There was the usual stress of kids not getting up on time, of trying to keep an ADHD child whose meds haven't kicked in yet on task, and so forth, but a good deal of the stress on this morning came from a certain kindergartner who might also be known as The Daydreamer/The Princess/Drama Queen II/The Snail. I had just about given up trying to get her going (and her disclosure that she had a headache 10 minutes before she was supposed to leave almost sealed the deal), except that visions of the very nice letter the principal sent a couple of weeks ago letting us know that this child had reached the maximum number of absences she was allowed for the school to "make AYP" and that her tardies were excessive and could be "detrimental" to her progress kept dancing in my head. (I think when I received the letter, I retorted something like, "Well, then YOU come to my house and see if you can do any better at getting this child out the door fed and fully dressed and on time!")
The other children ran out the door, and The Snail finally decided that she needed to go to school (why NOW, not an hour ago!), and disappeared into her room to get dressed. I poured her a bowl of cereal, knowing I couldn't send her to school with an empty stomach if she really had a headache. The Snail came out dressed, except. . . "Where are your shoes?" I asked, feeling very much like a broken record. The Snail did not know. I marched into her room to find that not ONE pair of shoes belonging to her was in her closet. NOT ONE. I mean, usually, her closet is an interesting assortment of one shoe from each pair, but this time, not ONE pair was in there. However, we easily found her brand-new, shiny, bow-bedazzled white Sunday shoes, since they were up high and displayed proudly for all to see. But since those weren't an option, we were stuck. We looked high and low and miraculously found her shoes in her backpack (thank heavens for inspiration). She gulped down her cereal (very uncharacteristic) while I scratched out a quick note on the end of a notepad with a pen that didn't want to cooperate. (Thinking about this child handing the secretary a piece of cardboard as she came in the door was amusing, I have to admit.)
Then I drove her to the front doors of the school because the second I said the word "walk," I could see a meltdown coming on, and, since the goal was to get her to school for what remained of the kindergarten day (which would not happen if she went into meltdown mode), I felt it best to just drive her. I felt pretty silly, considering the school property is four houses away from our home (in my defense, the front doors, which are the only ones open after school starts, are almost two blocks away. . .). As my daughter jumped out of the car, Rapunzel hair trailing behind her, and yanked open the heavy doors and disappeared inside, my heart swelled a bit. For all the stress she causes, she certainly is a unique and wonderful individual, and I do love her. That helped me feel a bit better.
Then a dear friend exited the school and commiserated and laughed with me (what is it with children and shoes and tough mornings?), shared some fun and happy news, and basically took my mind off the stress of the morning. As I drove home in the sunshine, I took some deep breaths and arrived home much calmer and with my stomach tied in less knots.
My daughter bounced cheerfully through the door around 11:35 A.M. with a big smile on her face, chattered excitedly about the upcoming kindergarten "Plant Picnic," and skipped into the living room to see her brother, singing, "I had a greeaaat day, da-da-da dah dah. . ." I was tempted to ask, "So what was this morning all about?" But I didn't. After all, if she thought it was a great day, who am I to change her mind?
It was one of THOSE mornings. You know, the kind where you seriously consider asking for a refund. And leaves you wondering how soon you'll be developing a nice, raging ulcer.
There was the usual stress of kids not getting up on time, of trying to keep an ADHD child whose meds haven't kicked in yet on task, and so forth, but a good deal of the stress on this morning came from a certain kindergartner who might also be known as The Daydreamer/The Princess/Drama Queen II/The Snail. I had just about given up trying to get her going (and her disclosure that she had a headache 10 minutes before she was supposed to leave almost sealed the deal), except that visions of the very nice letter the principal sent a couple of weeks ago letting us know that this child had reached the maximum number of absences she was allowed for the school to "make AYP" and that her tardies were excessive and could be "detrimental" to her progress kept dancing in my head. (I think when I received the letter, I retorted something like, "Well, then YOU come to my house and see if you can do any better at getting this child out the door fed and fully dressed and on time!")
The other children ran out the door, and The Snail finally decided that she needed to go to school (why NOW, not an hour ago!), and disappeared into her room to get dressed. I poured her a bowl of cereal, knowing I couldn't send her to school with an empty stomach if she really had a headache. The Snail came out dressed, except. . . "Where are your shoes?" I asked, feeling very much like a broken record. The Snail did not know. I marched into her room to find that not ONE pair of shoes belonging to her was in her closet. NOT ONE. I mean, usually, her closet is an interesting assortment of one shoe from each pair, but this time, not ONE pair was in there. However, we easily found her brand-new, shiny, bow-bedazzled white Sunday shoes, since they were up high and displayed proudly for all to see. But since those weren't an option, we were stuck. We looked high and low and miraculously found her shoes in her backpack (thank heavens for inspiration). She gulped down her cereal (very uncharacteristic) while I scratched out a quick note on the end of a notepad with a pen that didn't want to cooperate. (Thinking about this child handing the secretary a piece of cardboard as she came in the door was amusing, I have to admit.)
Then I drove her to the front doors of the school because the second I said the word "walk," I could see a meltdown coming on, and, since the goal was to get her to school for what remained of the kindergarten day (which would not happen if she went into meltdown mode), I felt it best to just drive her. I felt pretty silly, considering the school property is four houses away from our home (in my defense, the front doors, which are the only ones open after school starts, are almost two blocks away. . .). As my daughter jumped out of the car, Rapunzel hair trailing behind her, and yanked open the heavy doors and disappeared inside, my heart swelled a bit. For all the stress she causes, she certainly is a unique and wonderful individual, and I do love her. That helped me feel a bit better.
Then a dear friend exited the school and commiserated and laughed with me (what is it with children and shoes and tough mornings?), shared some fun and happy news, and basically took my mind off the stress of the morning. As I drove home in the sunshine, I took some deep breaths and arrived home much calmer and with my stomach tied in less knots.
My daughter bounced cheerfully through the door around 11:35 A.M. with a big smile on her face, chattered excitedly about the upcoming kindergarten "Plant Picnic," and skipped into the living room to see her brother, singing, "I had a greeaaat day, da-da-da dah dah. . ." I was tempted to ask, "So what was this morning all about?" But I didn't. After all, if she thought it was a great day, who am I to change her mind?
You Think You Know A Guy. . .
While on a family walk, we were walking around a historic church and well that are near our home. My kids found a huge, almost-full bottle of Gatorade that had been dumped in the grass near the well and thought they would like to keep it. Daddy and I quickly put that idea to rest, and they dumped it back in the grass. However, we decided it would be better if we put it in the bottom of the stroller and threw it away when we got home. So that's what we did--at least, we put it in the bottom of the stroller.
The next day, my husband noticed that the Gatorade was still in the bottom of the stroller, which was sitting outside in the carport. He mentioned that I might want to throw it away before one of the kids got the idea to drink it. Being the environmental steward that I am (okay, I didn't become a big recycler until we got recycling cans--newspapers and phone books were about the extent of my "green" habits), I started to unscrew the bottle to pour out the contents so I could throw the bottle in the recycling bin.
But I stopped, suddenly having visions of what else might be in there besides Gatorade. :) I said as much to my husband, saying something like, "You never know what some crazy kid or teenager might have put in there to bait some unsuspecting soul." "Um, yeah!" he replied, with the tone of, "well, duh!" The Gatorade went in the trash with a satisfying thud.
I looked carefully at my husband, departing for the gym, and added, "Of course, you were never a teenager like that, were you." There was no reply. Only a mischievous smile and a twinkle in his eye. And much laughter as I exclaimed, "Justin!" as he shut the door on his way out.
What? And tarnish his "perfect son" reputation? Naahhhh.
While on a family walk, we were walking around a historic church and well that are near our home. My kids found a huge, almost-full bottle of Gatorade that had been dumped in the grass near the well and thought they would like to keep it. Daddy and I quickly put that idea to rest, and they dumped it back in the grass. However, we decided it would be better if we put it in the bottom of the stroller and threw it away when we got home. So that's what we did--at least, we put it in the bottom of the stroller.
The next day, my husband noticed that the Gatorade was still in the bottom of the stroller, which was sitting outside in the carport. He mentioned that I might want to throw it away before one of the kids got the idea to drink it. Being the environmental steward that I am (okay, I didn't become a big recycler until we got recycling cans--newspapers and phone books were about the extent of my "green" habits), I started to unscrew the bottle to pour out the contents so I could throw the bottle in the recycling bin.
But I stopped, suddenly having visions of what else might be in there besides Gatorade. :) I said as much to my husband, saying something like, "You never know what some crazy kid or teenager might have put in there to bait some unsuspecting soul." "Um, yeah!" he replied, with the tone of, "well, duh!" The Gatorade went in the trash with a satisfying thud.
I looked carefully at my husband, departing for the gym, and added, "Of course, you were never a teenager like that, were you." There was no reply. Only a mischievous smile and a twinkle in his eye. And much laughter as I exclaimed, "Justin!" as he shut the door on his way out.
What? And tarnish his "perfect son" reputation? Naahhhh.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Boo!
Emily is so funny! She and Jeremy were pounding on the piano and taking turns screaming. I asked them to stop, and she said they were making Halloween music and sounds. I said that sometimes Halloween music is sneaky and soft and maybe they could make that kind. Emily then said that she didn’t like the parts of Halloween where scary things jump out at you. I said I didn’t either. I like dressing up like someone else, getting candy, jack-o-lanterns, parties, and movies. She said she liked that too.
Then she said that the scariest parts of Halloween make her “eyes fall out, and my body fall off, and I turn into a skeleton. A real skeleton!”
She also told me what her plan is for next Halloween. She said that she’s going to dig a hole in the front yard, put a sign by the hole that says, “Don’t get in my spot!”, and then she’ll put lights all around so she can see where she’s going, and then she’ll take off her body and be a skeleton, and then she’ll hide until someone comes to the door, and then she’ll jump out and yell, “Boo!” and they’ll be so scared because they saw a real skeleton! “You know what the scariest part is?” she said. “Boo!”
Emily is so funny! She and Jeremy were pounding on the piano and taking turns screaming. I asked them to stop, and she said they were making Halloween music and sounds. I said that sometimes Halloween music is sneaky and soft and maybe they could make that kind. Emily then said that she didn’t like the parts of Halloween where scary things jump out at you. I said I didn’t either. I like dressing up like someone else, getting candy, jack-o-lanterns, parties, and movies. She said she liked that too.
Then she said that the scariest parts of Halloween make her “eyes fall out, and my body fall off, and I turn into a skeleton. A real skeleton!”
She also told me what her plan is for next Halloween. She said that she’s going to dig a hole in the front yard, put a sign by the hole that says, “Don’t get in my spot!”, and then she’ll put lights all around so she can see where she’s going, and then she’ll take off her body and be a skeleton, and then she’ll hide until someone comes to the door, and then she’ll jump out and yell, “Boo!” and they’ll be so scared because they saw a real skeleton! “You know what the scariest part is?” she said. “Boo!”
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Life Is Good
So I still haven't posted any pictures, partially due to the fact that we ran out of storage capacity for our photos and videos. (I love digital stills and video, but WOW do they use up memory!) This current incarnation of our computer is about 5 years old, and contains elements from other incarnations (including a video card that is so old that we can't even view the videos from our digital camcorder on it), and we thought maybe instead of ordering more external hard drives we'd bite the bullet and just build an entirely new computer. (The first time Justin built one was back when Ashley was in the womb; he's upgraded and re-built several times since then. I'm pretty sure this current one contains no elements of the original, but I could be wrong.) It wasn't just as simple as buying a new video card, because our current computer would not be able to handle a new video card, so by the time we upgraded everything sufficiently, we might as well have bought a new computer anyway. So that was the plan.
Well, after replacing our water main (a story for another post), and then doing the 60,000 mile maintenance on the Suburban and finding a surprise repair (OUCH), we moved to Plan B. We ordered two external hard drives. Now, if Justin ever finds the time to get them put on our network, we'll be able to download our new videos and photos. I'll try to post what we've got in the meantime. It just seems like we walk through cold tar around here sometimes, but I wouldn't trade the reasons for anything in the world. Life is busy, but LIFE IS GOOD. And if anyone's still out there, I love you and I'm glad you're my friends and family!
So I still haven't posted any pictures, partially due to the fact that we ran out of storage capacity for our photos and videos. (I love digital stills and video, but WOW do they use up memory!) This current incarnation of our computer is about 5 years old, and contains elements from other incarnations (including a video card that is so old that we can't even view the videos from our digital camcorder on it), and we thought maybe instead of ordering more external hard drives we'd bite the bullet and just build an entirely new computer. (The first time Justin built one was back when Ashley was in the womb; he's upgraded and re-built several times since then. I'm pretty sure this current one contains no elements of the original, but I could be wrong.) It wasn't just as simple as buying a new video card, because our current computer would not be able to handle a new video card, so by the time we upgraded everything sufficiently, we might as well have bought a new computer anyway. So that was the plan.
Well, after replacing our water main (a story for another post), and then doing the 60,000 mile maintenance on the Suburban and finding a surprise repair (OUCH), we moved to Plan B. We ordered two external hard drives. Now, if Justin ever finds the time to get them put on our network, we'll be able to download our new videos and photos. I'll try to post what we've got in the meantime. It just seems like we walk through cold tar around here sometimes, but I wouldn't trade the reasons for anything in the world. Life is busy, but LIFE IS GOOD. And if anyone's still out there, I love you and I'm glad you're my friends and family!
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Yin and Yang and Christmastime
Christopher is an interesting study. How he manages to be so maddening and so lovable at the same time is amazing to me. He is fiercely independent, extremely curious, and intense in feeling. One neighbor said that "he just keeps 10 steps ahead of you, doesn't he?" He knows what he wants to do, get, or be, and he moves forward, without regard for time, convenience, or rule. And if you are not 100% consistent, 100% of the time (any parent knows consistency is important, but knows being perfectly consistent is impossible, due to unforeseen circumstances), watch out!! He has constantly made me re-evaluate my parenting skills and has brought me to my knees in frustration (which is where Heavenly Father would like us to be when figuring out how to raise His children anyway. . .). He was the first child we've had that made me sigh with relief instead of tears when he started school.
He has also reminded me of the pure joy of life and the wonder of creation and just being. He has lit up my heart with smiles that fill his whole face, hugs that practically crack your ribs, and tender kisses accompanied by the words, "I love you, Mom." As I have watched him shower his intense love on others and live his life with zest, it has made all the countless times I've had to tell him to stop doing something he already knows he's not supposed to do, drive around the neighborhood looking for him yet again, or helping him clean up another "creative" mess he's made all worthwhile.
School has been interesting. He has been blessed with amazing teachers that know just how to work with his personality. (I am so grateful for the power of prayer!) He has had some incidents in which he had to re-evaluate his philosophy of dealing with frustration and other people (and even a visit to the principal's office. . .), but they shower him with praise and love and help him work constructively through his problems.
As any mother would, I look back on my not-so-shining moments and worry about how they may have affected him and his behavior. So it was really nice to get a note from his first-grade teachers (yes, his class has two; they team-teach because one is an administrative intern) telling me of a recent class activity.
The class was discussing Christmas and talking all about getting presents, Santa Claus, and so forth. Christopher raised his hand and said, "You know, Christmas is really about baby Jesus being born. That is why we get presents." It made everyone stop for a moment, and then they said, "Oh, that's right." I don't think his teachers know how much this little note means to me, but maybe they have an idea. It means that our efforts are not in vain, that all we've tried to teach him is absorbing somewhere. Something is sinking in. I am so proud that my son would remember our Savior at Christmastime when so many exciting things can distract us, and that he would talk about Him in front of his entire class. I am humbled beyond measure to be this little boy's mother. (And, in true Christopher-fashion, as I read the note and cried, I discovered that he was trying to lock his younger sister in her room!)
Christopher is an interesting study. How he manages to be so maddening and so lovable at the same time is amazing to me. He is fiercely independent, extremely curious, and intense in feeling. One neighbor said that "he just keeps 10 steps ahead of you, doesn't he?" He knows what he wants to do, get, or be, and he moves forward, without regard for time, convenience, or rule. And if you are not 100% consistent, 100% of the time (any parent knows consistency is important, but knows being perfectly consistent is impossible, due to unforeseen circumstances), watch out!! He has constantly made me re-evaluate my parenting skills and has brought me to my knees in frustration (which is where Heavenly Father would like us to be when figuring out how to raise His children anyway. . .). He was the first child we've had that made me sigh with relief instead of tears when he started school.
He has also reminded me of the pure joy of life and the wonder of creation and just being. He has lit up my heart with smiles that fill his whole face, hugs that practically crack your ribs, and tender kisses accompanied by the words, "I love you, Mom." As I have watched him shower his intense love on others and live his life with zest, it has made all the countless times I've had to tell him to stop doing something he already knows he's not supposed to do, drive around the neighborhood looking for him yet again, or helping him clean up another "creative" mess he's made all worthwhile.
School has been interesting. He has been blessed with amazing teachers that know just how to work with his personality. (I am so grateful for the power of prayer!) He has had some incidents in which he had to re-evaluate his philosophy of dealing with frustration and other people (and even a visit to the principal's office. . .), but they shower him with praise and love and help him work constructively through his problems.
As any mother would, I look back on my not-so-shining moments and worry about how they may have affected him and his behavior. So it was really nice to get a note from his first-grade teachers (yes, his class has two; they team-teach because one is an administrative intern) telling me of a recent class activity.
The class was discussing Christmas and talking all about getting presents, Santa Claus, and so forth. Christopher raised his hand and said, "You know, Christmas is really about baby Jesus being born. That is why we get presents." It made everyone stop for a moment, and then they said, "Oh, that's right." I don't think his teachers know how much this little note means to me, but maybe they have an idea. It means that our efforts are not in vain, that all we've tried to teach him is absorbing somewhere. Something is sinking in. I am so proud that my son would remember our Savior at Christmastime when so many exciting things can distract us, and that he would talk about Him in front of his entire class. I am humbled beyond measure to be this little boy's mother. (And, in true Christopher-fashion, as I read the note and cried, I discovered that he was trying to lock his younger sister in her room!)
Merry Christmas everyone!!
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