Where the Pills Go

Mom got a kick out of this!

Where the Pills Go

 

A row of bottles on my shelf

Caused me to analyze myself.

One yellow pill I have to pop

Goes to my heart so it won't stop.

A little white one that I take

Goes to my hands so they won't shake

The blue one that I use a lot

Tells me I'm happy when I'm not.

The purple pill goes to my brain

And tells me that I have no pain.

The capsule tells me not to wheeze

or cough or sneeze.

The red one, smallest of them all,

Goes to my head so I won't fall.

Such an array of brilliant pills,

Helping cure all kinds of ills.

But what I'd really like to know

Is what tells each pill where to go!

                                 ~ Etta Cisco

The Girls from Home Sweet Homespuns

I thought you might want to see the girls from Home Sweet Homespuns!  Here we are after enjoying a year-end dinner and celebration of another great year of on-line entrepreneurship.  Every one of these ladies is a talented artist in her own realm, besides being a great seamstress and valuable member of our team.

Front Row:  Debbie, Lisa

Middle Row:  Carol, Jan, Donna (me), Pam

Back Row: Cindy, Pat

Here's looking to another great year in 2011! 

Teaching Tuck and Ty

I have some amazing friends in Denver, Colorado.  They have an amazing daughter, Tricia Lott Williford.  On December 23, 2010, their lives forever changed.  Please follow her story as she begins a journey of her new normal.


Teaching Tuck and Ty

Out of Steam

I am a seamstress. The most important piece of equipment in my workshop is my sewing machine . . . or rather all four of them. The second most important piece is my Rowenta Pressure Iron and Steamer. I cannot stress how important my Rowenta is to my daily production. It is in "ready mode" from early morning until the shop lights go out in the evening.



NOTHING aggravates me more than being nearly finished with a project when I start hearing that dreaded sound. . . that waning sound . . . the steady burst of hot steam fizzling into a weak phfffftt.

Today I found myself yelling at my iron. "I JUST FILLED YOU UP YESTERDAY!!!" (Understand that a tank of water should last two full days, if not longer. Yesterday was a short work day, and it wasn't even noon when I started hearing the phffftt.)

"I PAID A LOT OF MONEY FOR YOU!! WHY CAN'T YOU WORK LIKE YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO WORK?!

So why all the fuss? First of all, it changes my plan. My work stops. It takes time for the iron to cool so I can unscrew the cap, release the pressure, then refill the reservoir. Then there is more waiting until the water heats up enough to produce that glorious steam.

For a period of time, the vessel is unusable.

The need to refill the tank on a daily basis is a definite indication of a problem, but there are other signs that should not be ignored.  I have two Rowenta's, and I know the warnings when something is amiss.  Inside the cap is a small green gasket.  It is such a tiny but important member of this iron.  When the gasket is new and working properly, the steam is stored until ready for use.  It can be directly exactly as the operator intends, providing the right burst when, where, and how it is needed to perfect the job at hand. Over time, the gasket becomes worn.  The steam starts to escape, starting out slowly and hardly noticeable until that unmistakable HISS. . . . SPIT. . . . SWOOSH! . . . . and the steam explodes from the vessel with an uncontrollable burst!  Wasted.  Unusable equipment in need of repair.

This morning, in the midst of my ranting, I thought how much I am like my Rowenta iron.  I was created for a purpose.  I can hear my Heavenly Father say, "I paid a high price for you."

In my body there is little member, this tongue of mine.  When it is controlled, my words are safely stored and ready for the Master's use. . . ready to be directed where, when, and how they are needed.  Like silver boxes storing words of encouragement, kindness, and love. 

When this tongue is controlled, the Scriptures say it is powerful enough to steer an ocean liner.  When uncontrolled, it can burn down an entire forest with one spark! (James 3).  Such a small member.  Such power it holds.

How I dread those times when my spirit is worn and the phffftt begins! 

 It is almost unnoticeable at first.  Hissing out discontentment, spitting out criticism, spewing out ugliness. As soon as I am filled, I prematurely become empty and unusable.   Without intervention . . .without the proverbial trip to the Master's Fix-It Shop for restoration, I may very well blow a gasket!

Psalm 19:14

Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, be acceptable in thy sight, O LORD, my strength, and my redeemer

What Do You Do During an Ohio Snowstorm?

Go to Amish country, of course!

Six-eight inches of snow can't stop a girl on a mission when there's fabric involved! This was the day I was scheduled to meet my MODA fabric rep at the Fabric Show Reunion in Holmes County - the heart of Ohio's Amish country and an hour's drive away. We had some important business to conduct, mainly locking in future orders before a planned price increase. The morning brought one heavy snow squall after another. It was a dice game between my common sense and my dare devil side. I doubted that the lake effect snow we were getting would be reaching that far south, and a quick phone call confirmed just that. That's all I needed to know.

A phone call to my best friend to get her boots on and we quickly headed south. Well, that is after three attempts to get out of my driveway and at least ten attempts to drive up hers. The highways were in good shape, so I felt confident in venturing off on the "back roads" into Berlin. Everything was sparkly clean and white under a freshly-fallen layer of snow. The countryside was calm and peaceful except for an occasional group of sledders dotting a hillside. My friend, Cindy, is in love with old barns and she was furiously snapping photos with her Droid phone. She swears I was speeding around the curves and up and down the hills (Not!) while I accused her of yelling "STOP!" at least every 500 feet so she could take a photo. We are still laughing at the number of barns that mysteriously appear crooked in her photos!

With only a few miles of drifting snow across the county roads, the drive was uneventful and pleasant. Our trip was both therapeutic and profitable. The needed business was accomplished with a few extra bones thrown in, especially the chance meeting of Mr. Zinck. (We will be using Zinck's as a supplier in the coming days).

Business done. Supper at Boyd's-Wurtham Diner. Carry out dinners to take home to our husbands. A day with my best friend. It doesn't get much better than that.

(Note the sign: Cindy's Diner)