{missed}

Places and people.  Dang, God is good.  The above is an image of a place the boys and I adore.  We frequented our little heaven hideaway on the regular and in all seasons too mind you.  Just a 10 minute stint from our old home, this was a place of freedom and natural bliss.  I've written about this spot here and here and here and here.  Yes,  this spot has a history of happy.

This place is not perfect. It's a public state park.  Hence, from time to time, you may spot an individual with a house arrest ankle cuff monitor. You will most definitely feel, at times, that you are literally inside a tattoo catalog browsing for your next ink.  On several occasions, I have stepped in as an unbeknownst volunteer lifeguard/stand-in attentive mom to the handfuls of little ones left in the water with 100% accident proof will protect you from anything arm floaties.  Yes, this place may just be considered a nose-in-the-air to those with country club pool passes.  But, not for us.  We like it.  Maybe it's because it brings me the same kinda feeling that the place I adored when I was I little girl gave me.

{Summer 2011}

But, the place is just for starters.  The people that were a part of our hideaway are perhaps what made it most magical.  We.miss.these.people.  Above is the last trip we made to our lake before moving 2.5 hours away.  Arlene and her kiddos, Brayden & McKenzie, were our rock steadys.  They lived just a street over from us.  She and her husband, E.K., have a huge chapter written in our lives on Hillcrest Road.  Arlene and I were all the time heading out on adventures.  This post is just tiny example of the impromptu goodness we had being neighbors and great friends.  My boys miss their Brayden.  His silly antics and his happy heart.  I miss Arlene.  Her huge ticker and her hilarious ideas for fun are irreplaceable.  The green ball.  Christmas night dinners.  Easter egg hunts.  Devotion times.  The back porch.  Yes, I miss her.  Then there's Sarah.  She and her little ones, Garyn & Ansley.  I've written about her here when the most wonderful thing had happened for their family. And, again here as a memory of great times together.  Sarah's heart is precious. The boys love Garyn & his world renown Wii games.  Sarah, Arlene and I were a trio of good deal finding.  The first Saturday of the month it was guaranteed that we were together and creating a great ruckus of fun for 1/2 off weekend at the ever infamous Goodwill. Don't believe me?  Check out our good times for yourself.  And, on the topic of together, who can forget the Batstreet Boys?

{Summer 2012}

Last summer, the boys and I made a trip back to our magical. We were fortunate enough to have all in tow for another great memory to mark in our record books.  Silly things like time and miles stand in the way of what used to be our regular routine.  I'm thankful for trips back.  I'm thankful for friendships that make you better.  For out loud laughter that secures you in times when a smile is so very missed.  It's these memories that let you know you are loved by a heavenly Father who's in the spoiling business.

Spoiling business is just exactly the case.  I am thankful for these people.  For this place.  For the memories that minimize the miles between us.  {missed}.  Most certainly.  

.mac :)

{baked}

I find the title of this post funny.  In many ways, I am right real baked once the k.Mac holiday making is complete.  This Christmas season has left me wonderfully blessed with business, but equally blitzed beyond the studio doors.

{my favorite cook books given to me by Kenny and my brother, Adam}

I took a personal timeout the day after the last k.Mac package shipped out.  I did this with intentions of baking with the boys in preparation for Christmas's arrival.  Goodies really are kinda nice to have around when Santa comes, you know?

And, what ended up happening?  I baked.  The boys would mingle in & out of the kitchen for taste tests and a few dough drops on baking stones.  They would roll & coat and then they were off.  Christmas music played all day in our home.  I worked at a happy pace with a sweet peace surrounding me as if my kitchen was anxiously awaiting my arrival home.

{candy cane fudge}

I concocted the above creation.  Candy Cane Fudge we like to call it.  Next year's batch will have a tiny tweaking to ensure a secured & prolonged softness in texture.  Its taste is nothing short of divine if I do say so myself.

Each family member requested a baked goody from Mama's kitchen.  Eli's request:  traditional and rich.  From scratch chocolate chip cookies.  The recipe I use is found in the cook book my brother gave me for Christmas in 2000.  

I made 2 batches as the quantity yielded is not nearly enough when living with 3 boys a tad shy of what one would call adequate.  These morsels are highly coveted in our home.  How about yours?

Next up was one of Kenny's requests.  Crock Pot Candy  Easy as pie too.  I couldn't believe how nice it was just to dump, time, stir and then glop onto wax paper.  

This was the first of our goodies to expire in our home too.  Can you say goner?  I knew that you could.

Kenny's 2nd request was lemon cookies.  Again, these are so simple to make.  I love those go-to recipes that are easy and equally delicious.  This recipe is from the Betty Crocker cook book Kenny gave to me one Christmas before we had kids.  Like, when was that?

Ahh, peanut butter fudge.  Say no more, huh?  I used this recipe only with creamy peanut butter.  Easy. Melt in your mouth yummy.  There ain't much by way of peanut butter that I don't approve of.

My goody of choice was white chocolate pretzel sticks with sprinkles.  I opted to die the almond bark green for more of a festive flair.  You know me and color by now, don't you?

The Face opted for white chocolate covered pretzels straight no chaser.  These are never pretty if I'm making them.  But, they taste glorious regardless of their curb side appeal.

Tradition, in our home, is to use the hand baked goodies to give to our neighbors and loved ones nearby as Christmas gifts.  We did just that.  Brown bags were filled with tiny wrappings of homemade goodness from our home and delivered to theirs.

Twine twirls were the finishing touches to these gifts.  We gave these goodies along with our family Christmas card & letter to our neighbors beside us and across from us.  Eli also gave this gift to his horseback riding teacher, Mrs. Beeler.  Additionally, a hit-n-run drive by drop off was successfully accomplished to Mom-Mom and Larro's house.  Papaw and Nana along with Kevin & Tash as well as Sydnie were also recipients of the brown bagged happiness.  My Dad-daddy and Aunt Sharon were also gifted some goody love on our trip down to see them on the 23rd.  In all, 9 bags were dispersed from the heart of my kitchen.  

I love the simplicity and methodical-ness of making homemade goods.  It's tradition.  It's time invested in creating something from your home, moreover, your heart. It was magic to my soul watching dropfuls of dough fall only to rise and taste tests time & again tried from my little men running amok around me.  The music and the memory of this day was just one of the precious gifts I was given this Christmas.

.mac :)

{my gift}

I have this wonderful opportunity in my profession.  The incredible gift to create is something I treasure. With each client's design request, I am gifted the ability to connect with someone using the work of my hands.  God has spoiled me so. The above custom design is a wonderful representation of the love I have for what I do.

I do not mass produce.  I am a self employed seamstress/designer to my business that was born from  hard work, determination and an intense passion for design.  I enjoy the intimacy in creating custom pieces as each project is unique, not stacked on shelves or imported from Chinese warehouses for a dime a dozen.  

Perhaps the proudest penny in my pocket is the relationships I have formed with clients.  These relationships are what holds my head a little higher and happies my heart a whole lot.  Clients do not contact me to order 10 jumpers or 15 handbags at a time.  What I gain from their design service requests is so much better than $29.99 x 15 at wholesale cost with FREE SHIPPING.  I am lucky enough to have clients want the work of my hands for that someone special, for that perfect gift or perhaps, for that celebration that needs just the right detail.  

My services are requested with a forethought for gifting or getting.  My designs aren't a hurry up and get it kinda purchase.  And, this makes me all the more proud of the work that I do.  It's the people and their stories that give me the creative energy to thrive in my making.

Clients that return for more designing work from me is, without a doubt, the highest compliment I could ever receive.  I take great pride in whom I work for.  I want my best given to them, and I want them to know that is just exactly what they deserve.

My process for a design coming to life is one I cherish.  I clear my head and ready my hands to work with the intentions of this design's recipient in highest regard.  Simply put, I think about them.  Should I know them, I work while recollecting my memories of them.  If it's a client I do not know personally, I think about them still.  I wonder what they are like.  I consider what they might love most about their design piece.  

                        

I concentrate on my hands and focus my mind on the art that I am creating.  The process is methodical and time consuming.  It's work.  I always have the best sensation just as the design project is about 80% finished. It something  kinda like pride, but I look at it more like a peace.  

This peacefulness comes from the respect that is given to the job at hand, moreover, to the person who chose my services.  There is nothing more humbling and gratifying than knowing that you are smack dab in the will that God has for your life. 

I offer a special thank you to these two Alabama clients for their designs visually represented in this post.  A mother and a daughter whom I've had the privilege of making for in my beginnings as a designer written about here.  And, I am honored to have had the opportunity to create for them once again.  Lily's fabric corsage broach is detachable from her jumper.  I loved allowing for this removable versatility. In the event Lily's mom, Pamela, decides to share her Regency handbag with her daughter one day, Lily will be all set to personalize the handbag with her corsage.  It's those tiny details in design work that runneth over my cup of gratefulness for the gifts that God has given me.  Yes, joy is that simple. 

Pamela's words upon receiving her k.Mac designs:

"My mail carrier just delivered my k.Mac goodies and I was so excited I had to stop the Ironbowl to open them ;) They are FABULOUS! The preview pics you sent were fantastic and I knew I would love them, but the photos did not do your craftsmanship justice. The designs, fabrics, and attention to details are first class. Thank you so much! I think a pillow is next on my list :)"

It is my huge hope that I look not at my occupation in terms of quantity, but forever in terms of quality and lasting connections. My gift is from Him.  And, for this, my Christmas is most merry.

.mac :)

Our Christmas Story

Christmas is a story book to me.  This book is bulky thick like the kind you see in museums.  You know the ones with the crinkled creamy linen-like pages all nestled & pressed together?  Its spine is deep red in hue with gold horizontal stripes trimmed acutely in an ole world black but just in the middle.  The cover is completely saturated in that same rich mahogany red but without a trace of title or author.  Its details are on the inside. Opening the story to reveal its magical wonderment is a treat.  The beauty of this tale is in us all as we take the time to collect just the proper components to compile our own family's Christmas story.  Perhaps what I love best about this ole storybook is that it's continually re-written from generation to generation.  Each new family takes a little of the past to add to the newness of the next chapter inscribed.

I wanted to be sure to document evidence of our Christmas story here in this place.  So much of writing for me is remembering, reminding and recollecting for myself and the ones I hold so very dear. And, although I don't have a place where my little girl Christmas story was documented in words, it is a memory well preserved in my adult mind.  I remember smells and just where every little thing was placed.  I remember my Mom's hand painted ornaments with little tiny bows atop each one.  I remember my porcelain ballerina in the deep wine tutu from Niederhousers.  I remember the candle sticks on the mantle and the garland on the bannister too.  Mom and Dad's stockings Mom made from Dad's old blue jeans.  I remember them.  I can even remember the way Mom looked as she wrapped gifts on the floor.  She taped every box whether it needed it or not.  These are just small excerpts from my growing up Christmas story.  It is my hope that this collection of images with words helps the boys to remember their story a little more.

This image above is one of my favorite images from this Christmas.  It is a collection of so many good things.  The "C" is the first item I purchased when we moved into the first home Kenny and I bought together.  The picture framed of the boys is the day we closed on our current home.  The church artwork is by our Eli when he was just 3 years old.  I wrote about here.  The hand painted daisy glass was done by my Mom-mommie at Girl Scouts camp when she was 11 years old.  The green sandwich glass jars were my Mom's.  She and my Mom-mommie were avid seekers of depression glass.  And, the beginning of our Christmas story is found in the lighted church.  It was given to me from Kenny's step-mom, Candy.  More lovingly known as Nana.  I love this collection together.  It resides in our kitchen. I am gifted goodness, simplicity and warmth every single time my eyes cast a gaze in this direction.  

This is the entry way into the boys' bedroom wing of our home.  The antique RCA record player was Kenny's great grandmother's.  The silver plate on its surface is the plate that Kenny's dad used as pretend steering wheel when he was a little boy.  The rocks placed in the plate are the boys' rock collection.  They love finding rocks that have cool characteristics about them.  We started a rock collection when they were just toddlers because they loved them so.  If you'll look closely you can find a rock there on the edge that looks just like an Oreo cookie.  Casey face found the turkey feather when he was 2 years old.  It sits with the rocks because they say it should.  The artwork of the boys on the wall was Kenny's Father's Day gift in 2011.  It was done drawn by Fany, a sweet 18 year old girl who we went to church with in Chattanooga.  She has never had any formal art lessons in her life.  The hand blown glass pumpkin was bought this year at a local craft festival.  I love attending this with Kenny's mom and spending time with her.  I bought it the day our nephew, Colton Scott, was born.  I love this memory so much that the pumpkin has plans to stay out all year round.  The Santa is the beginning of my Jim Shore collection.  I adore the detail in his work.  And, well, there's George, Eli and Casey's elf! He is the descendant of their Dad's elf who was also named George.  Kenny's George first lived at his Mamaw & Papaw's house.  Then moved to his Mom and Larro's house where he resides to this day.  

This is our foyer entry way.  The lighted church and home were Nana's.  She gave them to me last Christmas.  The "Cobble" cross stitch art work was the only Christmas gift I ever gave Kenny's Mamaw.  When she passed away, his Papaw gave it back to me and said he wanted me to have it.  I love looking at it and remembering how proud I was to have made something from my hands for the Mamaw Kenny loved more than anything.  It's placement in our home is very special to me.

The above tree is what I like to call our welcoming committee.  It lives in our kitchen and changes in theme from month to month.  This tree always has a Santa Claus hat for a topper.  It's ornaments are Santa enjoying all sorts of transportation from motorcycle riding to sailing a boat.  The ornaments are wooded and with a frosty gloss to them.  I also love the yarn candy canes and Christmas trees. Lastly, the silver ornaments are simple and basic symbolizing all the key elements to the Christmas season.  

Our family's Christmas story begins together.  The four of us spend the day making our home a celebration of joy in honor of Christ's birth.  We all look forward to this day with great anticipation.  There are so many special ornaments to go on our family's tree.  For example, the sparkly Santa in the center.  He was given to me by one of my students my 2nd year of teaching.  He is always the first to go on the tree.  It's tradition.  And, the boys have slowly begun their own traditions of just which ornament goes where.  Kenny and I watch on with such happiness.

So much can be said about a Christmas tree.  It's materialism is there if you let it be.  But, we don't.  Instead, our family looks at the memories collected as a reminder of our Christmas story.  Kenny has given me an ornament every year since our first year of dating in 1997.  All of these ornaments are on our family Christmas tree.  I love hanging each one and thinking about that year of us.  There is an ornament from my childhood too.  Just one.  It was given to me by my Dad-daddy.  It is one of my Mom's hand painted ornaments of a Christmas tree.  On the back, she hand painted in cursive "Estill Springs, TN"  She used to make these every year for her class, basketball players and our family.  This ornament is priceless to me.  I also have my Barbie ornament collection that my Mom-mommie started for me when I was in high school.  Ever since then, I have gotten a Barbie ornament every year to continue this tradition.  Living in a house with 3 boys, I find it only fitting that Barbie keep me company even if it is just on the tree and at Christmas time.  The Santa star has meaning to Kenny.  This star was the star that adorned the top of his Mom's Christmas tree every year when she was a little girl.  As she started a family, this same star topped her Christmas tree.  Kenny grew up with this Christmas Santa star.  In 2007, Kenny's Mom gifted him this star for his family's tree.  This meant the world to him.  Every year, Kenny takes great pride in placing the star on top of our tree.  The boys' handmade ornaments from church hang on this tree too.  These are so wonderful to pull out and put on every single year.  Hand prints and heart shaped pictures conjure up such precious little boy memories.

Hanging of the greens is a tradition in our family of 4 too.  My job is to doctor and de-tangle any bow in need from last year as well as fan out & fluff the greenery.  

I hang the lower ones and Kenny with disgruntled contorted Gumby-like capabilities great joy hangs the upstair's wreath.  This year he coerced our eldest into helping.  This is one of my favorite captured memories from this season thus far.  Eli is beginning to look more and more like his Dad.  These two are so much alike in personality.

Our Christmas story begins with a new tradition this year.  In lieu of the boys having single trees in their bedrooms, we opted to combine their ornaments and put them on one Christmas tree in their upstair's playroom.  Nana and Papaw were so kind to give us one of their trees they were not using.  When each boy was born,  Kenny and I began an ornament series collection beginning the year of their birth.  Each year Kenny and I gift them the new year's ornament.  Nana and Papaw also give them a grouping of ornaments every year as part of their Christmas gifts from them.  There are ornament gifts from Mom-mom and Larro, Tee-Tee and Tone-Tone, Ma and Pa and Mi-Mi and Jonathan too on this tree.  I cannot tell you the joy the boys have in decorating with their ornaments.  Stories are shared of which ornament they love most as well as when they remember getting that ornament.

Eli is getting so tall.  He has always loved Christmas so much.  Holidays mean something extra special to his heart in general.  This has been the case ever since he was a tee tiny little guy.  

Our Casey face is candid about Christmas.  His eyes sparkle when he talks about his ornaments.  He gets giddy with the countdown for Christmas and wants the trees lit at all times.  

This image was captured by Kenny. It simply brings tears to my eyes. Eli loves to smell his little brother's hair.  He always has.  Here, Eli is showing Casey one of his ornaments.  As Casey leans in for a closer look, Eli reaches down to sniff Casey's locks.  This memory captured with the Christmas tree as a back drop is a huge helping of our Christmas story.  It is over time that Kenny and I have combined our story books of Christmas memories past.  We don't forget the details of just who we came from during this holiday season.  Better yet, we have added in new chapters to our story book collective.  The deep red spine crackles with age as the book opens each and every year for more edits, add-ons and revisions.  

And, the story book of our Christmas grows with love as we happy our home for the celebration of our Savior's birth.  It is my hope that the boys nestle these memories inside and always look forward to taking the time to tell our their story just right.

.mac :)

{week 19: my 2 in 52}

My Town of Home

{my boys in front of my little girl home:  Estill Springs, TN}

People are parts of places to me. Put together like a collage of clippings from life's big ole magazine of memories. Some of us are raised in metropolis sized cities and some in just tee tiny specks on the map.  Regardless of population, popularity or per capita, your town of home leaves you with a little more of you along the way.

Dad and Mom moved to this home you see above in 1977 from Colorado Springs, CO when I was just a year old.  The house was originally a tawny chocolate brown color with darker brown shutters.  Time spent here gave life to a back yard shed built by Dad for his tools, a garden with a special strawberry patch just for me and a little brother, Adam Patrick.  Dad planted every tree in this yard.  They were free trees given out for an Arbor Day Celebration.  It evolved from a tawny brown to a light robin's egg blue thanks to the eighties and Dad's paint spray gun.  I can still remember the nasally monotonous motor of that gun as he painted the whole house by himself.  Eventually, Dad would add on a new and bigger kitchen where the carport was along with a laundry room.  For my Mom's master's graduation gift, he added on a screen porch too.  And, it can not go undocumented that my brother and I had the coolest tree house piggy backed onto Dad's shed in the back.

My room had 2 windows.  The one you see below and then another just above the heat pump and around the corner.  That heat pump was the birth place of my all time favorite dog, Pup.  His mother was a mange infested stray and on Christmas Eve in the snow, decided that the crutch of our heat pump was just the place to deliver 12 puppies.  Dad's shed with a Kerosene heater became their home.  Vet bills and lotsa puppy love later left us all with 11 eventual free giveaways and my Pup, the leftover.  Black wirey fur and a devotion like no other to the protection of Adam and me, Pup will go down as one fine dog forever. He would ride on our sleds in the snow with us down the hill behind our house.  He would ice skate on the  tiny back pond too. The tree just to the right in this image was my climbing tree.  I loved how down-to-a-science I had my ascent; each knot and perfectly placed limb was like magic.  

And, if our one acre of home tucked neatly into the coolest cul-de-sac for bike races and general loitering on wheels wasn't cool enough, we could walk to school.  Mom taught at Rock Creek Elementary all of my life.  She was one of the three 6th grade teachers.  Mr. Limbaugh and Mrs. Shasteen were her grade level counterparts.  Yep, in warmer weather and in the event we weren't running behind {I am certain you know by now the story of Caseys and time, right?}, you would see Mom, Adam and I hot footing it to our school house just up the street.  I loved when we got the chance to walk to school.

Mom's classroom was her haven.  Her home away from home.  Ours too for that matter.  It was quite often you would drive by only to see her outside door propped open for some sunshine in during the school day.  Many of late afternoons and weekends were spent in her room and in the gym too.  She was the Rock Creek Lady Rockets Girls' Basketball Coach.  She took great pride in this honor.  She and Dad worked so much on making the gymnasium a great place to play, moreover, her room a wonderful space for learning to commence.

Summers were spent at our special place, UTSI beach.  Dad worked at the institute as an environmental planner.  At least 3-4 times a week, you could find us there.  

Mom would pack hot dogs and chips along with a the red/white pump cooler of hot Crystal Light lemonade and we were off.  Adam, my cousins, Aaron & Bryan, my Aunt Sharon, Ms. Bandy along with Ryan & Nathan were our swim mates on most occasions.  It was before sunscreen was a big deal. 

     

Mom, Ms. Bandy and Aunt Sharon would sit & glisten in the sun chatting about the whoas and wows of Franklin County education while the kids swam like mad dogs.  Shallow end or just past the rope and over the sunken sand bags into the deep end, it mattered not.  We were fish and free. Ms. Bandy taught me to dive on the dock there.  Once Dad's work was through, he would run home in the truck to change into his swim trunks, grab a bottle of Ivory soap and our dogs, Maggie & Pup.

Dad would whip into the parking lot, let the dogs out of the back truck bed and head into the water for some evening laps.  Maggie and Pup would go buck wild fetching sticks and sniffing geese goo in the sand.  The nearby pavilion's grill would be started and evening splashing was still in full effect until time to be called to eat.

There is something sacred about eating with a towel wrapped around you on a wooden picnic table. The sun would be sinking low and neon orange.  Hot dogs would be inhaled only to hit the water one last time.  This time with the Ivory soap in hand.

A few more rounds of fetching drift wood sticks for the dogs and then it was bath time.  FOR ALL OF US. Dad would squirt the dogs first.  Adam and I would scrub and rub their fur with all our might.  It was all with good intentions only to be ruined by sand rolls.  Then it was our turn for some Ivory suds.  Bathing suits on, we scrubbed ourselves in lake water. Yep, lake water.  Good summertime parental intentions were involved I am sure.

This lake is so much of me.  It's hard to even put into words.  The load up & ride home would never disappoint.  Maggie, Pup, Adam and me capacitated Dad's two-tone red & cream F150 truck bed.  Tongues flapping and towels for tents, our ride home would be.  Every now and again, Dad would make a pit stop at Speedy Sac for gas.  Chocolate Yohoos in glass bottles were a special treat for the remaining 2 miles home.

My big ole collage of life begins here.  The clippings are preciously preserved from my one stop light map dot. Each visit back through the years reminds me a little more of who I am.  And, each investment on the highway home has not always been easy to make.  Memories are bittersweet and nestled in our hearts of hurt and happy.  But, this collage is mine.  It brings me great heaps of pride to share my town of home with my boys as they grow.  I hope to impress upon them that home is you and you are home. Make the most of your scissors and your clipped out selections, boys.  37330 has done just this for me.

.mac :)

{week 24: my 2 in 52}