Earlier this week, I was dreading going to get two of my kids new passports. Getting a child’s passport is one of my least favorite jobs as an adult. I understand why the process has to be so tedious and regimented, but that doesn’t make it any easier.
I have been lectured more than once when I showed up for a passport application appointment missing some crucial piece of documentation. It put me right in the place of a disobedient child, feeling chastised and frustrated with myself for not doing better.
Ever since I finished my rust-colored cloak, I’ve wanted to make a second, shorter one. It wasn’t till this fall that the fabric inspiration struck. When it did, I used the pattern from the book Costume Close-up, minus about ten inches of length, to make a second cloak over the course of two days.
I used a clearance wool blend I found online for $7/yard. The lining is my old favorite, shot cotton. I pieced the lining (mainly because I cut the lining for the hood too short). I prick stitched the lining in so that that the two layers of the cloak would move as one, something I didn’t do on the last cloak. I omitted the hand slits. With the shorter length, they didn’t seem necessary.
So in two paragraphs, I just told you everything you need to know about the cloak. So we’re going to talk about something else while I show you the pictures.
I’m back from the Jane Austen retreat. Every part of my body hurts, I’m exhausted, but I had such a good time. I wanted to share a little about the weekend while it was fresh on my mind.
For my entire life, I have had a prayer habit. For my entire life, I have also been afraid of God. Not the fear full of awe. The distrustful fear of a person who has been hurt.
The God I was introduced to was never satisfied with me just the way I was. I assumed if I prayed for guidance, that when God answered, it would be with a demand for change on my part. Never mind that when I’ve actually asked for and received guidance, the most clear and meaningful messages I got were those of reassurance and acceptance.
I’m tired of having to choose what to do with my limited resources. I’m spending a lot of time cleaning and fixing things, because it’s satisfying and doesn’t require me to be very creative.
A hole mended, a hinge repaired, a pile of crumbs vacuumed, does not a blog post make. I didn’t even realize I hadn’t posted for all of February until the month was over.
