Spring Something

So I've got this urge to do something crafty...something spring-y...something that has to do with bright colors and flowers and new curtains and deep cleaning and....

Tomorrow is Saturday.  I get paid today.  Spring decorating, here I come.

One project down, a million to go

A few weeks ago I finally figured out how to thread my serger and actually do some serging with it.  This past week, I learned how to apply it to super-fun project.  I have a fetish for vintage patterns from the 50s and 60s, and every time the Hospital Auxiliary Rummage Sale comes around, I go digging through the cardboard boxes full of patterns make out like a bandit (hey, even one or two good ones makes it a success, right?).  This McCalls pattern from 1967 is definitely a keeper:

 

I had some fantastic maroon fabric already on hand as well as a neat-o rhinestone button, so I just needed to get the underlining, thread and a zipper.  Out came my sweet little 1956 Singer sewing machine and the serger, and away I went:

I know that serging is old hat for some folks, but it was a thrill to actually get it to work.  I was tickled to be able to produce a tidy, professional finish to my seams.  Whee!

 

 A few days later, behold the dress!

  

  

  

Things I love about this pattern:

• simple, no nonsense instructions (they write the instructions assuming that [wow] a person can sew
• the simplicity in fitting the dress due to the slimming princess-line seams
• the underlining of everything but the sleeves (this made the hemming process amazing - no obnoxious hemline to try to steam out)
• the elbow darts on the sleeves
• the snappy stand up collar and groovy button

Things I could live without:

• the strange technique for sewing the interfacing to the neckline facing.  I know that this pattern was made before the days of fusible interfacing, but the instructions were like no other I have ever experienced.
• the sleeves had way too much extra fabric to ease into the armhole.  I definitely think a bit of that could have been done away with and the sleeves would have eased in just fine.

So there you go.  One project down...at least four more to go before I can allow myself to buy new craft/sewing supplies.  Since Baby Rodgers refuses to make himself/herself known these days, I guess this gives me one more month to whittle down the previously started projects before making baby things.

Good morning, good morning....

(Can I just say that I love the fact that it isn't pitch dark outside when Steve goes to work?  That gentle bit of blue creeping in makes all the difference in the world.)

Mornings are just better these days.  It's easy to forget that just a few weeks ago, I had to eat all night long (that's what it felt like) and was still unable to keep anything down for more than five minutes when I dragged myself out of bed.  It's easy to have the memory of excessive fatigue swallowed up in my current morning energy level which declares: Get up!  Eat breakfast!  Read your Bible!  Exercise!  Start your happy little day!  (Ping, ping, ping!)  I'm grateful for how things are right now.  I want to manage the morning's time wisely.

What about time management?  I was thinking about this a lot lately because I have always been self-righteously wonderful at managing my own time and being a remarkable Holy Spirit for everyone else and their time management.  During high school, I would diligently attack my studies, making the most of every moment...and take quite a bit of time informing my siblings that if they didn't get up at 7am and launch right into their Saxon math, they would have a blank future.  (These comments and their accompanying glances were not well received.)  It was easier in a college environment.  I could do my own thing and I didn't have the weight of managing time for everyone else.  First of all, I didn't care about them as much as I did my siblings.  Second, there were consequences for rushing around to finish a paper (bad grades for them, good grades pour moi).  Third, I could go into my own room and surround myself in time management utopia when the socializing got rough.  And finally, I was convinced that God would take hold of their hearts sooner or later and show them "the better way."

Then I got married to Steve, also known as Mr. Procrastination.  Mr. All-Nighter.  Mr. What-is-a-Routine?  And it has had its sticky moments. After all, I thrived on routine and knowing that God smiled on me because I would make the most of my day or die trying.  At this rate, Steve was bound for some sort of serious consequences.  Or not.  Somehow, someway, he still manages to get things done responsibly and well without stressing about time management from the moment he wakes up.  How can this be?

I may be on the obsessive side in time management, but in talking with friends and relations, I noticed a bit of a similar trend: the girls would get freaked out about time management and getting things done, while the guys just sort of let life happen and just did things. It reminded me of a book I received called Men Are Like Waffles, Women Are Like Spaghetti.  Now, I haven't read it through, but the general premise is that guys see life in boxes (waffles) while girls tend to see how different facets of life touch and effect everything else (spaghetti).  This may not apply across the board (God didn't make us into guy and girl robots, after all), but I can see how it relates to Steve and me.  I wake up with a mental list of things to do and a mental schedule laid out which tells me when I need to do what by what time and what will happen if I don't.  Steve gets out of bed, drinks some coffee, wakes up, thinks of things that need to be done in the day and decides that as long as they are done by the end of the day, all is well.  Everything touching verses boxes.  Hmm.

I can see why, perhaps, God designed us differently.  Steve's main job after loving God and loving me is to provide for our family.  It's in the box Go To Work.  It stays in the Box.  My main job after loving God and respecting Steve is to manage the house.  And everything relates to everything in managing a house.  It's a job that lasts all day long.  So we're programmed for our different jobs and we have to manage our time differently.  This can result in me being a better mom (I hope) and Steve being a dad who actually (oh my goodness) has time to spend with his kids.

This is pretty rambly, but in getting back to my morning routines, I do want to manage my time wisely.  That means doing the dishes and putting clothes away...but not freaking out if it's not done by a certain time.  It means seizing the opportunity to exercise while there isn't a husband around to laugh at me.  It means not becoming so time management oriented that I don't have time for the things that really matter, like spending time enjoying the Lord and the people that he has put into my life.  Maybe it's letting him manage my time.

(It probably means getting off of the computer....)

The New 'Do and Other Things

I get these urges to do something and that usually means doing something to the rambunctious mop that situates itself upon my head.  People ask, "Are you scared to get your hair cut?"  Yes and no.  Yes, because I usually get these great ideas of how it is supposed to look and rarely does the finished product match those imaginations.  No, because the tendency of the hair is to grow back at a furious rate.

So on Wednesday, I went and got quite a bit lopped off. 

Overall, it's easy to care for, but it requires a good straightener for the bangs and my little $5 purchase from Rob's 2.5 years ago just doesn't do the job anymore. 

In other news, we're ready for spring.  I keep thinking about seed catalogs and gardens, but it's much to early to start that project.  I'm also thinking about gluten-free diets, how guys and gals view time management (maybe I'll take a poll), and trying out a new cookie recipe each week (no, that doesn't exactly work with the gluten-free idea, but whatever).

But this afternoon includes Greek with Mr. Wonderful, making a menu, and finishing a project.  Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Something happened...

...one year ago today-ish.

 

We got engaged.

(I say "today-ish" because I'm not sure when it was.  It went something like this: Steve and I met in the middle at my parents' house when my mom was recovering from serious complications following surgery.  It had been a rough day with hospitals and babysitting and cooking meals and such.  Finally, everyone was in bed...except for Justin [the future best man] who was snoring in our living room recliner.  Steve suggested that we go outside.  It was 11-something at night and the middle of February, but we got bundled up and out we went onto the porch.  After talking for who knows how long, Steve said, "I think we should just get married."  And I said, "Okay."  Therefore, I don't know if it was the 21st or the 22nd of February.  But on the 22nd, we went to the hospital and make a pros/cons chart of an appropriate wedding date on the wipe-off board in my mom's hospital room.  We went to the Bonfire and shared a burger because we only had $20 between the two of us.  And then Steve bought me a wonderful plastic engagement ring at Alco which I wore for the next five months.  The end.)

Receiving/Believing

(I'm supposedly "on-call" for work today, so I'm sitting here on the couch with the phone next to me, attempting to make some use of my time whilst I wait for the danger to pass.  Steve is reading and sniggering at what he is reading.  Florianus is in a half-nappage state and occasionally wakes up to lick the air and look sleepily at us.  Silly creatures.)

Explaining the gospel has always been a struggle for me, especially as I have taught at various and sundry after-school Bible clubs, Good News Clubs, VBS and 5-Day Clubs, and so on.  Somehow, I want to understand the truths of the gospel message so clearly that I can translate them to kids in a way that they will be able to grasp.  Of course, I know that it is the work of the Spirit in their hearts that will awaken them to their sin and need for salvation.  At the same time, I do not want to be slack in any way and just give the "pat answers" so that I can feel better.  As Steve and I have delved further into Calvinism and I begin to see how this system helps me organize and understand the gospel truths that I already know, explanations to kids have been easier and I feel like I am actually sharing the truth...and not some nebulous concept.

But, I still get hung up on the whole believe/receive thing.  What exactly is that?  I know that believing is ultimately trusting someone, and in this case, trusting that Christ is the Son of God and that his sacrifice on the cross is sufficient in atoning for my sin.  But receiving?  So many times, the line is "Just receive Jesus as your Savior," or "I received Jesus when I was eight," or something like that.  How do you really understand what that is?  How do you explain that to somebody else?

I was listening to a really great sermon by Piper last night and he helped me:

For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes . . .” Four observations about this believing.
First, it means that not everybody will benefit from what Jesus came to do. But “whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.” The rest will perish—and not have eternal life.
Second, the word itself means to embrace something as true; and when it’s a person, it means to trust them to be what they are and do what they say.
Third, John 1:11-12 shows that another word John has in mind to explain believe is receive. “[Jesus] came to his own, and his own people did not receive him. But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God.” So receiving Jesus and believing Jesus explain each other.

Fourth, if we ask, “Receive him as what?” the answer would be, “Receive him as what he is.” For example, in John 6:35, Jesus says, “I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst.” So here believing means coming to Jesus and receiving him as the food and drink that satisfies our souls. That’s one of the reasons I talk about receiving him as our Treasure (Matthew 13:44). And this is why faith is so transforming.

Aha!  Something tangible.  Something explainable.

(It's 12:30pm.  Maybe I won't get called in for work after all.  Let the Saturday chilling begin!)

Bits and Pieces

We toured the new birthing rooms at the hospital last night.  They are nice.  Not only are they enormous, but the ceilings are high making them feel less claustrophobic and hospital-ish.  Half of the room is the patient's area with a chair, shelves, etc, and half is full of the doctor's stuff.  I remember cramming into the hospital rooms after Mom had babies and feeling like we were tripping over everything and constantly getting in the way of something Important.  We had 12-14 people in the birthing/post-delivery rooms last night and there was loads of space.  It helped to be able to visualize where everything will happen.  That makes me less nervous.

(I also had the slightly freaky realization that Somebody is going to be calling me Mom.  Weird.) 

Yesterday was Ash Wednesday and we felt it at Emily's.  I was beginning to wonder why people were coming to eat at a soda fountain/ice cream shop when they were giving up things like...oh, you know...sugar. And meat.  That made life for this little waitress rather challenging at times.  The best Lent discussion happened in the afternoon.  You see, we have between 4-8 "coffee ladies" come in at 3pm and stay for an hour.  One of the ladies is a thirty-something non-smooth thinker (i.e. she functions on a ten to twelve-year-old level) named Brenda.  Brenda is super-sweet and is always asking about what we're doing and always gets an extra-large coke.  The other coffee ladies are generally very kind to Brenda, but one (EmmaLou) is, unfortunately, particularly snooty towards her.  Yesterday Brenda was chatting with us about her difficulty in deciding what she was giving up for Lent.  Her sister was giving up talking on the phone, but that just wouldn't work for Brenda ("What if someone called me?  Or there was an emergency?").  Then Brenda had an epiphany:
      "Maybe I could give up talking to EmmaLou."

I'm waiting for an shipping estimate from IKEA.  We have been wanting to organize our living room/dining room, and this was unbelievably perfect.  Now there will be a spot for the computer and its various appendages, and plenty of room for the mountain range of books that is constantly collecting on our coffee table.  I did not know IKEA's online ordering process, which afforded some confusion, but all is well.  Time for it all to start heading our direction.

We have been married for seventh months today.  Does time fly, or what?