costumes, toiles and ballets

toile (twa:l)
     -n
2. a garment of exclusive design made up in cheap cloth so that alterations and experiments can be made

The rehearsals for the upcoming Nutcracker are in full swing. It only seems fitting that I  do my part in the costume department. Yet the making of costumes that will be altered throughout many performances and in the forthcoming years is stretching me quite a bit. The lady in charge handed me bolts of festive shiny sleek material and a 10-12 size pattern and offhandedly mentioned they will be worn by little girls that are seven years old.

Before I wasted any of the beautiful fabric I decided a toile was in order.  An old sheet was accessed in the bottom of my linen closet to be used to make a raw costume from the pattern. The only alterations so far are in the length. Tonight I will grab one of the "polichinelles" aside for a proper fitting. Then the true work will begin.

At least Charlotte's autumn dress is completed.

coram deo

Latin study has molded itself into a part of my day.  The study of Latin is fascinating to me and I love it.   I will by no means try to make my attempts at learning Latin seem easier than it is, frankly, I find it difficult and challenging. If I could be a full time student maybe it would come with more ease, but my "older" brain is so full and busy, and alas, my attention span can run here and there like a very animated cartoon.  But I plod on. "Aut viam iveniam aut faciam" (I'll either find a way or make one).

Latin sayings, you just have to love them. One in particular has been on my mind lately.

Coram Deo  

Before the face of God

As I read Claire's blog this morning that was what came to mind. (Could I possibly be thinking in Latin? HaHa!) I thought she conveyed this particular truth in her post where her personal perspectives and insights were open and honest looking both inward and outward with specific everyday happenings in her life.

We are to live every moment of our lives with the realization of being in God's presence. With the absolute understanding that He is omnipresent and He is omniscient. How I live my moments, my days, should always be with this thought foremost in mind. To consider His sovereignty and His glory in everything should be my goal. My life makes up the whole of this whether I am teaching my children their school subjects, folding laundry, setting a pretty table for teatime, feeding my mother,  working in a soup kitchen or witnessing on a street corner; everything I do is done before the eyes of God. He sees my failures and my frailties; He sees the very smallest sins in my life and the most amazing miracle is that He loves me with an everlasting love and offers absolute forgiveness. His mercy and grace in abundance is always before me, how I chose to respond and live my life has great weight. Thanksgiving and praise are the gates, even when it might be sacrificial.

Therefore, I am a student of Jesus Christ. The study of His word has molded itself into my day.

the hotel

There appeared a new mat in the elevator every morning, "Have a Pleasant Saturday"or "Have a Pleasant Sunday", scripted in red with flourish, a mat for every day of the week. This simple bit of mien for proper detail was looked forward to with delight and expectation every time I stepped into the elevator. I just happen to take notice and appreciate such things. But then in this hotel, the hospitality offered is as natural as breathing.

We dined Saturday evening in the hotel's dining room where the waiter steps to your side offering a soup spoon atop a linen napkin that rests upon a china plate. It is rare indeed today to see this kind of presentation, but in a hotel filled with history, one that holds to a certain manner of tradition, it can be expected and relished.

The large, old window in our bathroom allowed views of the sunrise.

It is good to go away, yet it is even better to come home.  Experience has taught me that the absence of normalcy is what makes going away a special treat. But to quote a famous bard, "People usually are the happiest at home." I could not agree more.

 Home is the place where soup spoons are set by your soup bowl on any given day,  but very properly of course. 

a weekend of color

I'm in the car traveling through roads of color. Large dabs of orange, crimson, rust, yellow, and persimmon clothe the hilly waysides. The faithful evergreens stand amid the array with understated glory.

My husband made these plans to take me "away" over a month ago. We have a few small planned out things on our list to do, but for the most part it truly is just about us as a couple. Our main focus is our relationship and the thankfulness of His provision.

The temperatures are dropping and we are expecting cooler weather. It made for packing the warmer clothing easier, no surprises.

holy words

Daily visits to my mother.

taken on my iphone

This afternoon breathed warmth and sunshine. Charlotte sat on the edge of the her bed and read holy words from Daily Light.

stitching autumn

All it took was a notice in the morning's newspaper that a certain little needlework shop was going out of business. I expectantly hopped into my car that Friday morning bright and early, and the inspiration to begin cross stitching once again was born. Prime on the list was this sash which will be the embellishment on a dress for Charlotte this fall. I was delighted to find the variegated floss that made me think I was stitching autumn.

This was wonderful take- along handiwork when visiting with my mother. She, like her mother before her, is a Southern lady with knowledge and experience in sewing and handwork. She sewed me some of the prettiest things when I was growing up. I sense a certain satisfaction in her when I sit by her and stitch.

Today is liquid gold, oozing with the definition of Indian summer. The sash is completed and the cream colored dress it will adorn is in the works.

I'm off to do a little afternoon sewing!

a scrapbook

The morning broke and because of the cool temperatures, we bundled up in jackets and beach towels to watch its glorious announcement.

The first day gave us the hottest temperatures.

Back in late July, we experienced another loss. This time it was my husband's father.  This particular trip was planned with my mother-in-law in mind.

The temperatures were variable, depending on the time of day. We awakened to mornings in the 40's, but my children spent some part of every day in the water, usually wearing only swimsuits.

snacks on the porch

There were times that it seemed I was like looking at a mural of icebergs on the horizon. 

All suntan products, swimsuits and beach towels have been stored away until next year. We are on to other ventures now.

a good novel in my hand

"Jean was visited by one of her rare moments of happiness, one of those moments when the goodness of God was so real to her that it was like taste and scent; the rough strong taste of honey in the comb and the scent of water."

Elizabeth Goudge

The Scent of Water

 All of Elizabeth Goudge's books are treasures to be hunted in library book sales and old bookstores. Last month I was searching amongst the books at my local library's sale, I never fail to check out the G's for her books. I was not disappointed. I started to read it this past weekend while my toes were burrowed in the warm sand. But for an interlude of time I was in the English countryside enjoying the most delightful characters.

returning

The mini break to the coast was full of:

plenty of sun, with its sometimes playful mood of hide-and-seek behind clouds that reminded me of sky icebergs, 

walks on sandy shores with warm water surfing across bare feet,

 colorful beach chair sittings surrounded by beautiful vistas and coastal sounds, 

 a good novel in the hand,

 several rounds of rummikub played at the kitchen table overlooking the sea, 

 and

of course, food, dining out at restaurants situated on the waterways, or grabbing a simple sandwich at the yellow cottage.

But upon my return trip I had a day of:

photo credit

 Minus the wooden wash tub, thankfully, I had Kenmores that swished and tumbled throughout the day. I would have loved to have worn the blue jumper, instead a pair of blue jeans and a sweater sufficed. But the sun was shining happy outside my windows and I am positive I had that look that seemed to say, "I wish I was still at the beach."

babysitter?

Zany. No other word for it. But it seemed like such a good idea at the time! The lure of sourdough loaves baking in my kitchen as we fall into autumn made me do it. You get the idea, gather supplies, mash something, stir in a few additional things, tweak it in between all the daily extras on Monday morning. After all, it was on the long list of one of the those things I wanted to do in my lifetime.

Alas, I did not think about this week's momentum and what it entailed to keep a sourdough starter alive and well. Did I truly realize what I was doing or where my week was taking me? Making the starter was a simple enough process, but the other requirement involves a special form of babying.

And did I mention we are leaving for the coast tomorrow morning?

WANTED:
 Reliable babysitter. Helpful if you live in a warm environment and enjoy stirring in warm water and flour.

chocolatey chips muffins

 I have been experimenting in baking with whole wheat pastry flour...just because. The one thing that is obvious to me when I eat these baked goods is the crumbly texture of whatever I have baked.  But the taste is not altered in the least.

Chocolatey Chip Muffins


1 2/3 c flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/3 cup butter
3/4 c buttermilk
1 egg, lightly beaten
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla
1/3 c sugar
12 ounces semi sweet chocolate chips

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Grease muffing tins or line with papers. Melt butter and 6 ounces of chocolate chips in small saucepan. Let cool. In mixing bowl, combine flour, baking soda and salt. Add chocolate mixture with the buttermilk, egg, sugar and vanilla. Pour this mixture into a well in the center of the dry ingredients. Stir just until incorporated. Fold in 3 ounces of chocolate chips. Fill muffin two thirds full and place remaining 3 ounces of chips on top of each of the twelve muffins. Bake for 20-23 minutes.

 Extra Bonus:

Made with Charlotte this afternoon,

 stirred up in an antique bowl that once belonged to my mother.