Eagle Eye.

Still trying to convince myself that I really had a speaking role in a scene of this movie.

Learning about words.

When words are many, transgression is not lacking,
but whoever restrains his lips is prudent.

Whoever belittles his neighbor lacks sense,
but a man of understanding remains silent.

Whoever goes about slandering reveals secrets,
but he who is trustworthy in spirit keeps a thing covered.

Know this, my beloved brothers: let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger.

Prv. 10:19; 11:12-13; Jas. 1:19

Wanted: Polaroid Instant Camera.

I'm on a quest for a Polaroid Instant Camera. If you happen to have one that you do not use, I would love to take it off your hands!

Because there are not enough sweater vests in music videos.

In February three of my best friends and I spent a weekend together in Chicago. Whilst perusing secondhand shops on Belmont Avenue we happened upon a rack of sweater vests at Ragstock. Taken by the rack's wry charm, we resolved to each get one to commemorate our weekend together. Unaware of the irresistible creative powers these small vests held, we tried them on that evening...



Comments welcomed.

Arts & crafts.

My label maker came in today. I ordered a manual, old-fashioned label maker through Countywide Office Supply on the Square. I've wanted one for months to use in my art & crafts. I like trying to find things secondhand first, just to avoid the unnecessary use of new resources. I bid on a couple label makers on Ebay, asked for one on Freecycle, and browsed the local thrift store multiple times, all to no avail. So, my next choice, after secondhand, is to support local business. Countywide didn't have any in stock, but they were happy to order it for me.

On the same trip to go pick it up, I got Keith a little memo pad that he had mentioned wanting to get. When I got home I promptly opened my new label maker & decorated the new memo pad.









My next order of business was to add the text to this drawing I had made of Keith.













I've found these two wood art gems at thrift stores. The one to the left has the definition of faith and has been a huge encouragement to me as I wait in faith.

I like the counsel in this one on the right to be still & listen.







Comments welcomed.

please

pray for my family.

I love learning new words!

After this post on the UO blog, I had to look up the meaning of esoteric. I'm so glad I did. I was familiar with the word, but not its definition. I feel like it would be a very useful adjective to have on hand:

es·o·ter·ic (ěs'ə-těr'ĭk) Pronunciation Key
adj.

1. 1. Intended for or understood by only a particular group: an esoteric cult. See Synonyms at mysterious.
   2. Of or relating to that which is known by a restricted number of people.
   3. Confined to a small group: esoteric interests.
   4. Not publicly disclosed; confidential.
2. 1. Confined to a small group: esoteric interests.
   2. Not publicly disclosed; confidential.

[Greek esōterikos, from esōterō, comparative of esō, within; see en in Indo-European roots.]

es'o·ter'i·cal·ly adv.

Feel free to practice using it in a sentence right here.

The Office is Closed.

Perspective from the writers on strike.

"And be thankful." (Colossians 3:15)

Fun in the South.

Went to the show at the coffeehouse last night. This girl and this guy played together and they were absolutely great. So enjoyable. I ended up going by myself. The 'rents & grandpa stayed home, Kev & Keith dropped me off and went to do active-competitive-man things. I just sat in an arm chair, sipped my cinnamon spice tea and soaked it up. Perfect.

Tonight we all went to see the Rockets in the Radio City Christmas Spectacular at the Opry. I had never seen these famous kick-line tap dancers, and didn't quite know what to expect. But it was good. It exceeded my expectations. Lots of dancing, which I really love to watch. I love dancing. Wish I did it more.

This morning Keith and I went to the local Waffle House for breakfast. We love Waffle Houses. They are a vacation treat for both of us. There's something so charming, even magical about them; so dirty and artery-clogging and so friendly and comforting. Those classic yellow squares with black letters that haven't changed. The tiny interiors: booth or counter? A hard decision. The grits. Where do I eat grits Up North? I don't. The 50-something waitresses with raspy voices and too much makeup who always call you "hon". "More coffee, hon?" Eggs cooked just right. Pecan Waffles.

It almost makes me love America.