No. I chose a very high gloss background and aimed just right. I thought it would all be much more clear, much more obviously smooth.
But look!
Up close. (Click on the photo.)
I was shocked at the amount of texture hiding on this high gloss surface. Just shocked.
So, surprise! Texture on an absolutely smooth surface. Who’d have thought?
This blue lace will become the gathered-up fluff ball we use for bath time scrubbers. Some people call them loufas, but that is not what they are. Loufas are tan in color, actually the inside network of a gourd. Since it looks spongy, some people call them sponges. Also incorrect. Sponges are the network of an underwater animal.
Anyway, bath scrunchies are easy to make. Simply measure out a length of tulle or lace 10″ by 60″ or so, fold in half, lengthwise, to 5″ by 60″, sew the long edges together, turn seams to the inside. Then insert a heavy string or small rope and gather it all by tying the string or rope into as small a circle as possible. This will make a very large, soft, and puffy ball of gathered fabric, gentle on wet skin.
To make it smaller and tougher, for calluses and such, gather the entire doubled length and then tie off, from the outside, like a pom-pom.
I plan to make several of the scrunchies for inclusion in the package for the customer, should she decide she needs one to complete a gift. They will not cost much, maybe only a dollar, which would be a about a 350% return on my costs, since the fabric was only a dollar per yard, and actually, is left over from a curtain project. But the customer will be pleased to receive this small thing for nearly free.
We all enjoy finding something we can feel good about purchasing, don’t we. We all should be looking around for things we can include in our daily dealings with all people. It’s the magazine issue you’ve read and passed on, the jar of jam from a huge harvest, or even the offer to babysit, that makes the day for those we meet.
When we keep an eye open for what we have that we can spare, what someone else needs that we can bear to part with, then we practice generosity. We cannot all live with the terminally ill and give them sips of water. We can, though, give in other small, self-sacrificing ways, to anyone we see.
Reach out. The whole world is waiting for a “lace scrunchie.”
How I love preparing for a big project! I think being prepared is one of my favorite pastimes. Of course, it doesn’t hurt a bit that I found most of this grand collection of fabrics for free or at most, $1 per yard at garages sales. Wow.
Not only that, but most of it was neatly folded, just as you see here, and to top that off, clean and tightly-packed in zipper-type bags, smelling of newness and all things nice. Ha! So much fun to find all this lavender-ness standing in line, jumping up and down, crying, “Pick ME! Pick ME!”
Add to that the obvious, my huge collection of actual lavender blossoms, themselves, which you may view here, and you can see I am right on ready.
I am pretty good at staying ready. I am not always so sure for what. How about you?
This time, though, I am sure. I must make as many lavender things as I can, to attempt some sales at a festival in a couple of weeks. So, you might as well ready yourself for lots of purple posts. Ha.
Probably won’t sell much, but these things always make great gifts, and for any birthday, etc., that happens along, I will be . . .
. . . READY!
MY LAVENDER HARVEST!
As you can see, I have already sold two quarts and saved another quart out for a gift. Must finish stripping the stems in the basket and then begin making rice-filled neck rolls and sleep masks. Mmm! My most fun project ever.
My sister-in-law makes the lavender candles and my daughter-in-law sells them. A local huge Fall Event is coming up soon, where we will try out the market.
Such adventures!
How to cook. How to cook. How to cook for little ones who may not like my cooking . . .
Part of me felt like the character in No Reservations played by Catherine Zeta Jones, who was accustomed to satisfying finicky eaters by scrounging for ever more obscure ingredients, and faced with the dilemma of feeding a small child who did not feel like eating at all.
And part of me felt like just doing my thing and if there was a problem, they would eat once they got hungry. That part of me won out.
The children had expressed curiosity when we were shopping. I selected mushrooms, and they had not ever noticed raw ones before so asked what they were. When I told them, they made faces.
My turn.
For supper, I fixed the best marinara I could imagine and used some of those mushrooms, sliced and sautéed in olive oil, along with a large clove of wild garlic from our field, also sliced. We still have tiny onions left from our overheated garden, and I included a few of them, sliced. As all these paper-thin slices were beginning to brown, I added small chunks of a bell pepper a friend had brought me, along with one of her jalapenos, whole.
While some of the oil in the pan was still available, I tossed in freshly-crushed basil and oregano, and stripped a few leaves off a fresh stem of rosemary. All was sizzling along nicely when I remembered the soup base. I actually made soup base this year, which is merely whole tomatoes, washed and cored, and tossed into a blender, skins, seeds, and all, to be liquefied for a thicker sauce than we can obtain from just juice. I prefer the muskier taste the seeds lend and the redder coloring the skins contribute. It is the only way I will deal with only a gallon of tomatoes. Cleaning out my Victorio tomato strainer just kills me, if it’s for only a few quarts of juice.
Once the fresh rosemary had softened a bit, I tossed in a quart of the soup base. It sizzled just a bit, as it landed in the pan. Perfect. Since one of us cannot eat many foods without some Worcestershire sauce, I dolloped some of that in, too. And a bit of catsup for sweetening.
I slowly brought it to a boil.
Lastly, I added a whole bag of Great Value frozen 5-cheese ravioli. Yep. You may cringe at that, but I have read labels, and it has nothing in it but foodstuffs, all pronounceable. Probably not very organic, though.
Once it returned to simmering, I turned down the heat and covered it. Then I prepared a small lettuce, tomato, and carrot salad. The children had been impressed that the grape tomatoes I had bought had come “all the way from MISSOURI!” That seemed so exotic to them. I figured they’d at least eat the tomatoes.
After all was dished out and cut to bite-size, the littlest one sampled the ravioli and looked up at me so sweetly to comment:
“It tastes just like b’sketti.”
Kudos to the cook, I suppose.
Let’s talk a moment about canning failure. Although any canned food that fails to seal is acceptable if refrigerated and eaten within 3 days, undetected failure gives you food that is spoiled. It is unusable, offensive, and poison.
Either way, we must empty the jar, clean it, and try to find and fix the problem.
If the only trouble was debris on the jar rim, or a defective flat, it is an easy fix. Refill it next time and it will work fine.
However, if that rim is the problem, the jar is useless the way it is. Unless you know someone who knows how to do the impossible job of fixing a broken jar, the best thing you can do is to get it out of your life so you can avoid those problems in the future. It’s best to place it inside a bag, break it, and throw it away, to prevent its accidental re-use.
Yes, we are the earthen vessels that God uses for storage. But instead of physical nourishment, the things stored within us are spiritual life-giving treasures.
He gives His Living Word (Rhema) to us (John 1:1-4). It is so refreshing, like fresh fruit to our bodies, satisfying thirst and energizing us, but must be handled with extreme care.
Then He sustains us with His Written Word (Logos), which is also life-giving to us, the routine staple diet every Christian needs and longs for (John 20:31).
He also desires us to contain His meat: obedience and righteousness (John 4:32, 34; Hebrews 5:12-14).
Why does God desire to store His heavenly treasures within us? So that much good can come from these treasures here on this earth. God’s ways are difficult for the unchurched to know of. As vessels, we make the Kingdom more available and more palatable to the spiritually starving.
There is much we can do to make careless people notice God favorably (Romans 10:14). You’ve heard the saying: “You are the only Bible some people will ever read.” Another Christian saying goes: “Do not force the reason for your hope upon those who don’t ask for it, but live so that they will ask.”
Oftentimes God also uses us to make His Kingdom more understandable to some who desire it but are confused (Acts 8:30-31).
He uses us to make the Kingdom more easily acceptable to others (1 Corinthians 9:19-22).
It’s that dinner invitation, soft answer, or offer of baby-sitting that can woo people to Christ who would otherwise never turn to him. We are always to be His containers.
Just like the food we pressure can, God’s treasure within us must be prepared for the process. We must be sure it is clean, pure wisdom; no dirt or bug spots allowed (James 3:17).
Sometimes we cannot receive it all at once, either, any more than a jar could receive a whole potato (John 8:31-32, 16:12-13).
Sometimes it simply “goes in” better once it’s been softened by teaching, summary, or example (Ephesians 4:11-13).
I went to the eye doctor a week ago. I’ve had some sort of problem for months and am finding little satisfaction in the medical profession. Also am spending all I have on doctors, and we do have insurance.
At first, I had all the symptoms of glaucoma, except blindness, and all the exacerbating preconditions except heredity. I went to an eye doctor and behold, my eye pressure was okay, but I just needed bifocals. I put on the glasses and three weeks of headaches were gone in three hours.
Then vision changed again, with the things I looked at moving while I looked at them. The venetian blinds were bent, the words I typed were missing letters, my eyes did not focus at the same depth. Weird.
I decided I needed a different doctor, since I now thought I had macular degeneration and the previous doctor had not even tried checking me for that although I am 60 and complained of vision loss and slow and unequal focusing.
We investigated and found—at least a 6-week waiting period for an appointment. But, wonder of wonders, I contracted some kind of infection with red, swollen eyes weeping all day, and itchy. My G.P. was booked, everyone in town having flu, pneumonia, etc. Could I try my optometrist? Grrrr.
Of course, he was available. I had a staph infection of a non-fatal type, and should pitch all my eye makeup, wash my eyes with special towelettes, soak my toothbrush in peroxide, not let anyone drink after me, and use special prescription drops with antibiotics. And steroids. Grrrr.
I did everything he said, religiously, and although the symptoms faded, I felt they never were fully gone. My eyes still itched. Sometimes they were still matted in the morning. Everyone encouraged me to ignore this, because I was so improved.
But the dimness of vision, the eyes playing tricks on me, continued. I was seriously considering visiting the booked-up ophthalmic surgeon, when, wonder of wonders, the infection came back. I knew it: It never did go away.
Only this time, I had a blister on my eyelid. This was getting out of hand. Of course, this was Friday night. No eye doctors available for DAYS. I felt it time to take matters into my own hands.
First, I drained the blister. I could see better immediately after that. Then, I used a Q-Tip soaked in colloidal silver to treat the perimeter of the eye. This gave such instant relief from itching that, coupled with hot compresses, I saw and felt great improvement.
This was my vision, though, that I was nonchalantly treating without any expertise, so I tried for and got a quick appointment: Tuesday, not the six weeks I’d heard about. Hmm.
Oh, I wish I could tell you the good doctor praised me for anything I did. Nope. He also disparaged the first doctor, saying the diagnosis and the medicine were wrong. Okay, so my doctor and I were totally ignorant, but get this: This new doctor then told me that HE DID NOT KNOW what was causing my itching eyes and to USE HOT COMPRESSES. What!
Now I have another appointment, a referral to a big time specialist who can do an ultrasound on my eyes, because it is obvious the vision is not good.
Can you guess what I expect to experience then? I’ll keep you posted . . .
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