Posts tagged 2014
The stranger the better

Reading through the first day of Ann Voskamp's kiddo's advent book and I was struck by both the awesomeness of the book (go, go, go and get one!) but the awesome reminder that we all need by day one: to love those who are less than lovely (hello, ourselves, too!).  To look for the outcast, the downtrodden, the less-popular, the ordinary person that gets passed up because they're ordinary.  On the surface.  And pour into them as you would pour into the person you're enamored with.  Taking a little freedom here with what she was saying and pairing it with my brain. How crappy of us to ever decide that someone is less-than-whatever.  For we know that EVERYONE was made in the image of God.  Of a perfect, loving and holy creator.  Who the heck are we to decide who gets more or less love based on the way we perceive them from one interaction, one glance or a decision on what 'kind of' person they are.  I, a judger (ENTJ to be exact for my Myers-Briggs peeps), felt this scrape across my heart very specifically reminding me to peel back the yuck and get back to the person God made this Elizabeth to be.

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Then this morning I blogged about a session I recently shot that both made my blood pump and my eyes a little teary.  My current fave from that sesh below.  

And I was reminded of the way I love, love, love to nail the genuine moment on the head.  To get the people.  To make the picture that feels like the realest of life for everyone inside the frame.  Because that means I'm loving them well, taking the time to know them and connect.

Then I stumbled across this song.  Just so we're clear, I like quiet when I work.  Very rarely do I click on songs, unless a dear friend has sent it to me.  So I click on this bad boy and I'm all thank you Lord.  Whoever this dude is, I dunno, but I totally hear what he's saying.

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Falling in love with people.  The old, knee-deep in documenting people for school purposes Elizabeth lives here.  You could have literally put me in a room with Dr. Evil in my college days and I would have dug up the connective parts of him that would help us each identify with him and eventually connect.  I miss that.  I miss falling in love with people and loving them well from behind my camera.  Not that I'm perfect at it, and I almost can't do it without a camera to interpret for me, but I so miss it.

Oh Bears.  The sweet, less-than-perfect side of town, elementary-school football league that I fell so in love with.  Those Bears are going to college next year and being big-dog-seniors and I so long for the old days of football, of delivering turkeys to their own needy families with such pride in their little boy eyes.  The caring for ole Mrs. Bonita, who heated her house full of the grandchildren she was raising with her open oven.  Who had been battling cancer with her feeble, teeny body and wiping 2-year-old buns all day long, rarely leaving her house and being confusing in her talking with me.

Goodness I miss finding her, finding the strange perfections in strangers and writing about them and compelling people to connect and love well by giving and seeing the stories behind the people we title as less-than.  Because we're dumb.  And I'm talking about everyone - from the coolest of the cool to the tired to the poor to the rich to the whatever, because we each, in our own way, decide who we do and don't care about.  Because our hearts are bent on loving ourselves the most.  Because of sin.  We think we're the bestest and possibly no one could actually be as great as we are.  No one else's strangeness could possibly so beautiful and compelling unless we deem it so.  Welp.  Too bad and so good, but God made it and made them and saw that is was good.

Lord with every stranger, the stranger the better. - Hozier

Yes.  Just yes.  Just so we're clear, I'm the strangest.  I live with strangers.  I walk past strangeness each day.  I get paid to walk into the homes of strange, feel them out and make images that depict their now.  And I want to get better at that.  My heart feels the thing happening that my creator created me to do when I can do that well.  And when I can't, I stay up at night thinking it over, thinking about what I missed and why I didn't connect.  And I want to love them and love them well, not because I'm supposed to, not because it's cool, not because it'll selfishly serve my need to make great images, not because my crappy brain tells me I'm the best and the worst at the same time, but because the love of Christ, who lived and died for myself and for you and for the strangest person you know and can't stand.  And he died so that God can see us, through Him, in our imperfect little strange intricacies and call it good despite our flaws and sin.  And I want to make images and be the kind of person who sees the strange in someone new everyday and sees it as good.  Magnifying the strange by loving them well or in sharing it with others and compelling us to all take a minute and fall in love with someone new.

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 Thanks Annie Voskamp for your sweet advent kiddos book, my sweet husband for switching up the evening devotional while I nurse T and to that Hozier fellah and his song.  Glad to see the good today because of Christ who compels us to see differently, much of it due to that little chubby baby who rocked our world and shows his own little strangeness each day, new.

9 in 6, my little joy-bubble
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Budzo.   6 months and I'm not getting the things done that I need to.  But you are the best little joy-bubble of a pal.  I could just eat you up, I love you so. A short trip to Chicago with Erin, who graciously kept you so I could attend a workshop.  You've rounded out your 9th state in the 6 short months since we met.  Best travel pal ever.  Except for that one time you literally grew a tooth on the flight home from Colorado.  But who can blame you.

Just what I asked for: A birth story

My linear, self-serving mind says to start this thing off with a bang: Truman's birth story.  For a few reasons.  I tend to process things through images and about 6-8 months after it happens, so it's about that time.  I need to check it off my 'needs to be blogged' list.  It is quite a testament to our God who gives good gifts, in so many ways, but more importantly a lesson in my own life that God works in prayer.  He responds.  He hears.  And he brought us to one of the best, most gracious and kind ladies I've ever met.  She was the first person to hold our little Truman. As I've discussed and aluded to in the past, Truman wasn't exactly in our newlywed plan for life, so when we learned of his coming, the first person to know was my too-great-for-words doctor.  At around 5 weeks pregnant, she was a great comfort to us, she spoke truth over the situation and stuck with me when I was less than kind and basically silent for most of my doctors appointments.  Towards the end of my weekly visits, she reminded me to text her if I was thinking of heading to the hospital and she'd meet us there to deliver Baby S whether she was working or not.  Hello giant gift of undeserved love and kindess towards me that I DID NOT DESERVE.  The whole time I was pregnant, I had a difficult time praying for Baby S.  I prayed, but certainly not with a whole heart and not in the way I would hope to do for any future kiddos, birthed or otherwise.  But lets be real.  I managed to get out the healthy baby prayer, a selfish plea for a good nurser (yeaaa.....) and solely out of fear: my hopes and wishes for delivery.  But God.  He delivered.

Using Val Marie's prayer journal was my favorite and still is - I highly suggest you run to get yourself one of these sweet prayer holders.  It was in those pages that I wrote out wishes for the least stressful and most normal birth possible.  I wanted to head to the doctor for a normal appointment, learn quietly that I needed to pack up and head stress-free to the hospital.  I wanted to have Baby S as naturally as possible - whatever that looked like for me was fine - experience natural labor, drugs or no drugs, whatever - just stress free and no puking.  Yea.  Cause you need to know how I feel about that - I AM WAY AGAINST ANYTHING that has to do with puke.  Cause duh.  It's terrible.  I wanted my doctor to get to deliver Baby S and hoped to spend the least amount of time at the hospital.  My hope was to be as mentally present as I could be for meeting babe, for my husband to be the one who told me the sex of little Truman and for Baby S to be healthy as a horse and on the small side.  All of that: check, check, check.  So here we go.

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After heading to the doc for my standard, weekly appointment - and on my due date, no less - I was still dilated between a 3 and 4 as I had been for a couple weeks, 75% effaced and loosing amniotic fluid slowly.  A quick ultrasound confirmed I was about half out of fluid, so Dr.B asked if we were ready to have a baby today and if I had questions.  I asked for a brief rundown of what would happen at the hosptial once I got there and if we had time to run home and she said yes!  Run home and grab your things, don't be slow, but don't rush.  It was all quite calm.  We got our bags, stopped for Jimmy Johns on the way and started getting giddy.  Honestly, I wasn't afraid, concerned or worried at this point.  Just doing the things.  I had an apple and some water, ate my sandwich and we were soon at the hospital.

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They admitted me, hooked me up, had me change into...nothing.  Hah.  Got me all question and answered, IV in (I've always had a terrible time with my veins being found, but it was cake!) and after seeing I was having random contractions that I couldn't feel, started me on pitocin.  This was around 1pm.  I spent the next 2-3 hours standing in my room, reading a book on my kindle.  To be honest, the first two hours, I was having contractions, but feeling nothing besides tightness.  That last hour they started to hurt, which the nurse seemed glad about because they kept adding pitocin but my body was just chilling.

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Around 5 or 6, contractions started being more painful and were hard for me to stand through so I tried laying down on my side which was a help.  I hung out for about an hour like that - with 2-3 minute contractions about 30 seconds to a minute apart.  Around 6 I decided I needed an epidural.  Truman was still sunny side up, Dr. B appeared and talked me through a few contractions and I asked how much worse they would be.  The nurse and B confirmed that it would continue to get stronger and stronger, though they were backing way off on the pitocin.  Doing so because the contractions made a quick jump in speed and intensity, but they would still keep coming.  Obviously.  I decided I was down for an epidural and asked for it quickly.  Ha.

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Though the epidural came, it wasn't quickly enough in my book. They checked me when I asked for it and I was at 7cm.  While waiting for the anesthesiologist to come sweet Luke read me scripture I had prepared, Dr. B filled the in betweens with scripture from her brain (listen....she's the best) and I kept working through contractions with Truman still turned the wrong way. Also.  Back labor is no joke.  Finally they came to give me the good stuff.  Getting an epidural honestly was cake.  I was so glad for it, but the pain of transition (which we later figured out was happening during my epidural) was more than I could handle, so any pain I should have felt I didn't notice.  Hardest part was sitting still for the actual insertion while having contractions.  Oh my!  Once it started to work, I basically felt nothing but some movement and tightening in my stomach.  They checked me again and I was at 10cm.  Boom.  10cm but still sunny side up, so they turned me on my side and let me rest for 30 minutes, then turned me to the other side and did the same.  My Mom and sister, Abby, came back to say hello and brought me some beautiful tulips to stare at.  This was the only time I felt uneasy.  The epidural was working perfectly but had given me the chills (that and the arctic room I'd ordered up) so there was a lot of shaking and chattering of teeth.  All the turning worked though and best I could tell, Truman had turned.  Dr. B appeared again and announced that it was time to start pushing.

Our sweet friend Deanna made most of these pictures from here on.  Like I said I really hate tossing my cookies, so smelling this kept the nausea at bay.  I think the only complaint I had during labor (I'm not a big talker during pain, y'all) was the nausea.  Sweet Dr. B ordered up a dose of those nausea meds women who are really struggling with morning sickness take, it worked like a charm.  Pretty sure they put it in my IV - I still have no clue.  Those IV's were pumping me up all day, which maybe hindsight wasn't a highlight because I looked way puffy at the end of delivery, but oh well.  The next day I was back to not having 3 chins, just 2.

So I'll spare you the really personal (too-naked) photos of me pushing.  But push, I did, for a bit more than an hour.  I ended up hitting the oxygen pretty hard at the end.  Just felt a little faint during pushing.  I also felt like I was pushing so much and not getting lots of rest time in, so that really helped me.  Blue oil and oxygen kept me up and working.

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And then little Truman was born!  Dr. B was the first one to hold that little fellah, see her there on the right?  So glad about that.  She was great.  She was the perfect, prayerful, quiet encourager during my whole delivery and was such a comfort to have a doctor who is also a believer.  I know Luke will agree with me when I say we are SO THANKFUL for her quiet, confident bedside manner and just the genuine woman of God that she is.  She was informative, but never once over-informed me and made me frightful.  She was constantly reminding me of scripture that spoke to my ability in Christ to birth a baby and being made to do so.   Can't say enough good about her.  Really.  Total gift from the Lord that we did not deserve.  As was Truman, his little self.

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Just the bitty baby I prayed for.  6 pounds, 7.8 ounces.

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This is Truman.  Everyday.  All day.  Hands up on his chest, looking around.

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Our dear besties, Will and Ashley, drove all the way over and hung in the waiting room.  Love them.  So thankful for their preggo friendship and their sweet son, Grant, who will get to grow with little T.  Neither of us knew what sex of babe we'd be having, so two boys was quite a treat.

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5 Months later and looking at this photo and all I can think is we look like babies.  5 months ago!  So glad these images exist and can't wait to look at them in a year, 5, 10, 20...crazy.

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Pretty much everything post-delivery was cake.  They cut my drugs, my shakes and chills stopped pretty soon.  My feeling came back to my legs within the hour.  I moved myself from the delivery bed to another and they wheeled us past the nursery where we dropped T off and headed to our room to rest a minute.  It was around 1:30am at this point.  Only time I felt an ounce less than perfect after delivery was when the elevator took off to move us between floors.  I wasn't quite ready for the sensation and though it only lasted a minute, it was a queasy, disorienting minute.  But Truman was with me as well as our fab nurse and I forgot it as soon as it happened.

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So that's it folks.  It really was cake.  My experience was 1000x less worse than I thought and I absolutely attribute that to a good God who gave a sweet gift to his kiddos.  The gift of an easy and calm delivery and the blessing of a sweet son who has already been such a little joyful light in our lives, to our families and to all the women he flirts with in Kroger.  

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Twenty-six, Twenty-seven

Twenty-Six.

It's over; because today my days measure twenty-seven years.

Oh twenty-seven, I have no expectations for you.  Nothing but breathing because I think that is most wise and the best tracks to lay, for the possibility of joy, anyway.

On my twenty-sixth birthday, my tender husband threw a little surprise dinner gathering at a sweet friend's home.  We'd been married just 7 days shy of three months.  Just 9 days later I found out of the absolute blue I'd be expecting a little babe come April.  Or March.  But that's another story.

Our friends came together to share a meal, my most favorite thing to do.  We shared many desserts, which is my most, most favorite thing to do and we headed home that eve talking about all the things that fall held for us.  Talking about the places we wanted to go and Luke's upcoming assignments that made travel likely.

And then we were out of town.  And then we were weeping, out of town, still in our little secret.  Still in the secret we'd keep for many weeks that tore down all the walls of expectation for twenty-six.  All the walls of newlywedness.  All the walls of flourishing business.  All the walls.  All of them.  And they were replaced by mile-high, night-dark walls of depression and despair.  I'm not sure that I wish I'd been able to function joyfully through a pregnancy.  I'm not sure that's what the Lord willed for that year of life.  It was the hardest, but it makes the joys we have now that much more vivid.  It was the hardest to be numb for so long, but God is good and there is Truman.  And God is good and there are memories.  And God is good and joy now, is magnified.  And God is good and twenty-seven has no framework aside from a simpler life, more time together, more feeling and less of everything that doesn't make my blood pump.  Being numb will do that to you.  Make you aware of what makes your blood move and what absolutely coagulates it.

For now, I know that that tender man I lay my head next to makes my blood move.  The sweet babe whose chest rises and falls thanks to the creator who made him does, too.  The little white fluff that laid with me as I completed college, built a business, bought a home, married a dear man, made a family and got her a yard does, too.  Open spaces.  African accents.  Fresh air.  Ponies of all sorts.  Watching seeds grow into food.  Images.  Creating and making.  My prayer for twenty-seven is that I continue to become more alive.  To the things I loved before twenty-six and all the things I have yet to discover.  And that I would be able to discover new next to the tender man and the sweet babe and the white fluff.  To credit all that new and all that joy to the creator who made us.  That's all.

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Happy Weekend from Truman!

Need to update lots on Truman, as we're all finally well but shot this little picture this morning and I know it's waaaayyyy overdue for some action over here - so just one quick photo.  We're off to a wedding rehearsal tonight and a wedding tomorrow!  Enjoy!

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Just dreaming...
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...About my next bathtime. Truman had another bath (this photo is from the first) and loved it. Sat there looking around, chewing on his hands, just happily chilling. Not a single scream until it was time to get out. Happy Friday from Little T.

The Bestest of Friends: Springtime Shower
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My super generous friends Winona and Brie (that'd be the cute redhead and the babe with the super long hair in mustard) threw a sweet springtime shower for Baby Sharrett a few weeks ago.  I was super thankful that they used our home, that so many of my friends joined us to celebrate, craft and shower us and that it didn't snow too much - that's right.  Funny Kentucky weather. You might not know it, or you may think much of the goodness in our lives was made by me, but that's not the case.  I've got the most generous friends.  And really the most creative, too.  Brenna led a craft to make embroidery hoops for the baby's room.  Each guest got to choose a hoop and crafted whatever they wished on there.  So many cute and thoughtful little hoops were made and waiting to be hung.  Brenna's even stitching one up with Baby S's name and birth info once baby arrives.  So sweet!

Highlights for me aside from the hoops?  Seeing the chalkboard and clipboards being used for fun and goodness.   That chicken salad.  Oh dang.  So good.  Apple pie bars; I still dream about them - and those macaroons from the Boyce General Store.  Ah-mazing.  Favorite gift?  Probably the little navy cardigan my middle sister, Sara, made for the baby...out of one of our Dad's old sweaters.  It's precious.  So grateful for friends who have walked through this pregnancy with us, treated us and showered us - such a joy.

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So I made a lil bunting!

Soooo I originally threw up an old window display on the chalkboard, but wanted to use scraps from my yoyo making stack of quilt fabrics to make a bunting.  There was no real method to this thing.  I made the triangle stencil out of an empty amazon box, cut out the little flags, cut out felt triangles just a bit smaller to add durability and strength (still thinking about ironing a little stitch witch between the two). I then used a scrap from the curtain I made in the kitchen to whip up a piece of quilt-like-binding and pinned all the flags in between.  After a quick zip down with the sewing machine, I had a pretty decent looking bunting to hang up on the board.

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Hanging of the Chalkboard
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Last week my chalk came in and I got to stare at it for a full 24 hours allowing me a solid amount of time to come up with fanciful ideas of being able to make pretty chalk drawings...which I learned the next day is much harder than you think it is.  But really - normal chalk is hard for me, chalk pencils seem easier, but our board needs a little more seasoning before I bust into those.

So I ordered this board after much (way too much) laboring over size and cost and quality and reading reviews.  I'm quite pleased.  I wanted one that had a bit more substance than the $20-30 options and after painting my fair share of homemade chalkboards for LooBird, slate or porcelain were my only priorities.  I also wished for a wooden edge, but the metal fits in just fine, too.  And I suppose, can always be covered up with a ruffle or a frame, if we ever get bored with the color grey...hah.  Not happenin.  Best part was that the installation seemed simple enough for hanging a heavy thing.   You MUST cover the thing in chalk at least 2-3 times and wipe it all off to season it.  I haven't done this with some of our homemade chalkboards and I've had permanent wedding menus until we had the time to paint again.  Glad we did that before hanging or it would have been a bigger mess.

Turns out smartest thing you can do is make a picture of the wall (you're shocked, I know) on the chalkboard fit with measurements so you can quickly refer when you get confused.  Then you can write on the wall with chalk (brilliant! doing this again, for sure!) to mark the measurement spots and holes for screws etc.  The board seemed to hit two studs and was going through a plaster wall so it was good to go after two screws.  I also covered each of the exposed screw heads on the back with cork circles just to protect the wall and give it a little cush rather than bang, when writing on it against the wall.

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That's pretty much it - put the screws in, covered the possibly scratchy spots in cork and hung the thing up.  I grabbed an old twine garland from the shop's window display closet and brought it home - pinned a few images to it, some cut up map pieces and an old wreath.  This week, I cut out triangles for a garland, because we need some more color up there for sure, but I'm still undecided on spacing, binding, construction etc. so there they sit until a plan solidifies in my head.  Thinking I'll hang the bunting up above the photos so we can swap out images. 

Just gotta hang up the clipboards next, find a rug I'm in love with (thought I had a perfect one coming from target, but it showed up more yellow-cream and navy than white, so the search continues to warm up the area and add a little cush) and make or order a print for the left corner with some color and wording about table, bread, wine etc.  Oh.  and learn how to write with chalk....or have my skilled friends swing by for cookies and chalk ;)

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Silly Things I Do When House Planning

So I'm visual.  Real visual and I don't like to spend our money, I'd rather stack it away in an account and watch it grow...but I do love a cute, personal, encouraging, approachable,  cozy and inspiring home...so I think and think and think about purchases before we get close to making them and I often make ghetto photoshop pictures like this one to solidify choices as wise before spending.  I'm crazy.  It's cool, I know. Last weekend we picked up this beautiful little table our friends made for our house.  Really.  Go check out Ben's whole site - really great pieces he's making.  So.  So. Cool.  We settled on the apartment sized table with a breadboard top for our kitchen so we could squeeze around a table with 8 folks if we needed, but sit 6 comfortably.  Priority numero uno: petite dining room table for the little nook is complete.

Next up is more encouragement on the walls.  The kitchen wasn't a place I had too much 'hanging stuff' for as our kitchen in the loft was tiny, full and each place had a purpose, so I was free to do what I wished with one.  whole.  wall.  Exciting!  I'm quite encouraged by rotating scripture in front of my eyes, but also love the constant change and incorporation of different prints, colors.  So encouraging to me.  (Spring colors inside mean spring must be coming, right?)

So....a chalkboard for writing notes, scripture, pictures and paying my more talented friends to stop by and chalk some beauty up.  I plan to sew a few garlands for hanging from the board and the little brown boxes and clipboards.  I'm thinking this is the best plan for the printables I use to post on our fridge before we got a fridge we couldn't use magnets on.  AND it lets me hang up pictures and swap them out as much as me heart wishes to, simply and quickly.  Excited about thatTo the left, there is a wall (edge of this is a corner), to the right is a hallway to the potty/bedrooms, so it's gotta stay open and easy to navigate.  We shall see.  I ordered a chalkboard which I will report on when it arrives Thursday and am collecting clip boards to hang on the wall, too.  Stay tuned....

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What's been happenin.
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This season of rest has been nice.  A little challenging as the house is still a hot mess and the back yard is solid mud, but we're making it more and more like a home and getting progress made in the off-season tasks of website updates, cleaning, organizing, purging and have even had some time for creating a little bit. Leila likes morning quiet times in the nook, but isn't sure why the chair was purchased that doesn't allow her space to sit.  Poor spoiled kiddo. So, I gave in....and while there won't be space in my lap for too much longer, Leila makes herself at home along my right side most mornings.

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Can't get this photo to rotate, but I'm really loving my Val Marie prayer journal more and more.  It helps me be more intentional, see God answering prayer and keeps my mind focused on scripture for each area of my life for the month.  So, so, so worth every penny - order one, or ten for your friends!!

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Headed to Bowling Green, stayed with fabulous friends, Brad & Brie and had some great food and sweet friend time.  The next morning, wandered town with friends and taught the studio lighting and advanced lighting class.  I jacked these photos from Jabin and Drew's instagrams, so forgive the stealing and quality - they would give me their blessing, don't cha worry ;)

SO FUN and SO GREAT to be able to encourage the students in the program who aren't hoping for news to be their career, but rather some other sort of patchwork, commercial-maybe, portrait driven job.  It's a hard place to not be headed at news, but a WONDERFUL place to be trained and kicked out into the real world of photo biz.  Just nice to know that I could be an encouragement to those forging a different path as I did - there was so very little encouragement brought in when I was there pursuing Lizzie Loo and it's GREAT to see the program growing and accepting other forms of livelihood than newspaper life.

Back home and little Leila's been doing her fair share of resting, ear-infection fighting and hair growing.  She gets a haricut this week and should be sporting a pretty puppy cut soon.  Girl gets so excited about her haircuts.  Really.  She knows a 9am trip towards Simpsonville means time with doggie friends and she starts talking as soon as we pass the Big O'Tire on 60.  Crazy girl.

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I started painting an armoire I bought a couple years back at the 127 yard sale.  Will be used in the baby's room, has taken quite a bit of time, but has been fun - update on that and the process as soon as it's looking complete.  As you can see Leila is a great support as she sits and whines over my shoulder.  And a little peek at the family Jenny Lind bed I slept on as a kiddo that will add another place for someone to stay.  Yay friends!

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Lastly, I've been using my new sewing machine (Thanks mom + dad!) to stitch up sheer curtains in our bedroom and am slowly making progress through the rest of the house. Made this little shade out of reproduction feedsack material I found on an antiquing trip to Glendale.  On that trip we also bought an AWESOME old back door that should be installed on our house soon.  Couldn't be more excited about restoring that thing and giving it both life again and giving our home more character.  So.  fun.That's about all for now.  More to come, soon, we sure hope :)

Moved in and a snow day!

Leila and I are home working today as we woke up to an inch or more of snow in the yard.  It's continued to snow on and off pretty heavily all day bringing us to 3-4 inches for now.  Woot, woot! We're moved over, but not moved in yet.  While the house is covered in blue tape denoting drywall boo-boos and soon missing paint, it's slowly become our home.  Will be very nice to be able to put things away and be here continuously without regular kick-outs for painting, staining and poly-ing.  But for now we're all adjusting to the difference of living with real neighbors, planning for furniture purchases, continuously sewing curtains and enjoying much, much more space.  And amazing washer machine...I mean oh my gosh the washer machine.  I washed 4 quilt/blankets and an armful of towels and it all got clean and dried in under two hours.  Fantastic.  At the loft, I had to have a 'sport' sized washer/dryer because they fit inside a closet with a water heater and HVAC. So thankful to have laundry in-house - they were great when it was just me - but I had no idea how much time I was spending on laundry when I didn't need to.  Crazytown.

Leila is settling in.  She's a little annoyed that she can't watch the cars go by and does her best to climb high on the couch for a shot out the windows.  For now she's settled into the sunroom's sort-of bay window.  As soon as construction and dust has passed I plan to make a little cushion and line it with pillows for her little fluffy self and anyone else wishing to watch the yard and enjoy the sun.

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