For babies who who don’t make it home from the hospital here is a project where wedding gowns are donated. Angel gowns are then sewn from the fabric and given by hospitals to parents. This is so near to my heart ❤️.
Chubby lunch tote pattern here.
There is also a second post by the same blog author describing how to change the tote from a lunch box with thermal lining into a “Scripture bag” the link when I find it will be here.
My thought on another version would be to add 1/2 foam (as well as necessary lining in the description), drinks for an add on shoulder strap. My idea is to turn into a camera bag by adding an insert for a camera. It would fit a go-pro, smaller mirror less camera or similar. The size could be adjusted to fit a larger camera. I carry a DSLR every where I go. It is in a insert I created myself. Since I change change handbag so frequently Ive learned to keep my beloved camera in a removable insert. I do not have any instructions how to ma he the inset. I’m a doer, mot a writer. I give great respect to anyone who can create a pattern and write instruction how to sew the bag. (Especially under 30 pages!!!!😎)
Thanks for reading! Today’s photo in the heading is of a very vintage Belvedere sewing machine found roadside spring 2017. After a lot of oil and some work on the tension baby runs like a charm! Love my collection of older machines!
Living with a chronic disease which controls my life’s activities. I always look for delight at end of the treatment tunnel. This group of Iris Flowers was given to me when a friend who bought a home but did not want the flower garden which accompanied her yard. Her garden dug up and delivered to my yard sat for one year in a bin placed in my back yard.
I had under gone treatment for Hereditary Hemochromatosis. My body literally gave up after under going 2 years of biweekly phlebotomies at Dana Farber Cancer Center. This is the treatment but not a cure for a disease I was given by the genetic lottery. Removing blood removes the excess iron steals oxygen red blood cells. Also known as Iron Overload, the iron if left untreated excess iron is stored within soft tissue, (heart, brain and the synovial sacks surround and cushioning each joint of the body). Iron left unchecked is dangerous because the disease resets the body into believing it needs more iron. A normal body will only keep and use iron as needed. Individuals with Hemochromatosis have a never ending battle to remove the excess iron before it becomes a life threatening issue, strokes, heart attacks and blood clotting crisis occurs.
Once my treatment ended my red blood cells were now screaming for oxygen….. what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Survival became my only goal during the 2 long years of treatment.The flowers in the bins in my back yard had their own battle from neglect. Once transplanted into my bright sunny front yard 2 years ago they put down roots and began anew. Surviving a medical battle as I did Is rewarding once healed albeit for the moment, Hemochromatosis is a life long battle of phlebotomy to remove the excess iron before it claims my life
One sunny afternoon I put my strength in the almost dead bin of flowers. I dragged the bin into my sunny front yard planting the flowers into their own sunny patch of dirt. This year, 2 years later, their roots thriving, just as I am in life treatment is under control. Phlebotomist are infrequent, 2–4 times per yer, amazing yellow Irises grew spectacularly out of the dirt. Live is a battle. There is always a reward but sometimes you have to look beyond the usual to find enjoyment.
I hope you enjoy my photos taken with a Sony Alpha DSLR a550 with a 50mm prime lens! I enjoy photography, especially macro flowers and bugs. 😎🦄🌈🌸🌼🌷🔬❤️
Online bullies? Online ‘friends’. Anyone you might meet online. For me it’s Facebook but I tweet, insta, and that other one with funny faces too. Sometimes I take a convo off the app into messenger making it 1 on 1. Most recent I’ve met a person who has a different name for everyone; welfare cheats, food program recipients, single moms, anyone receiving any benefits and are not working. Her names were not the ones I’ve written. Each was profoundly mean. Last week after another round of name calling I had had enough of biting my tongue and keyboard. It just spewed as if there wasn’t a filter. Who really knows exactly who is behind the keyboard? I have deliberately left out and pronouns as he, she, him or her from this post because do we really even know if the woman who recently “liked” your Facebook post is a woman or a man?
What are these very same people like in real life? Do they stand in a public space calling the same names? Will they berate another for choosing a different police canadate? Online is a public space even when you choose to limit your posts. Screen shots and tagging will place any words or photos placed online anywhere forever. Be kind because you cannot rewind.
This is not the first person I’ve met who felt a need to share personal beliefs, thoughts and choices. Last fall and throughout the winter there was a great deal of political bashing online. It is not who I am or ever want to be.
In case you are wondering if I was sure it was a real person. It was. I use an app that checks backgrounds. It happened in an online sewing group. If you are not a member, the groups are 99-9/10 filled with women who all believe they are the most creative and best sewer. There aren’t any real friendships or sharing of skills. There is a great deal of in-fighting, name calling, back stabbing and blocking.
Online we must find beauty in others. Verify they are genuine and celebrate a friend found! I am glad my children are grown and I am not responsible for observing their online goings. I am sitting two feet away from my granddaughter at this very moment so I can observe but not spy as she plays an online game. What happens when she wants privacy? What happens when she meets her first online bully? It’s hard enough being in middle school. Sometime I want to return to a time before computers when we actually made friends face to face. Is that possible?
Post traumatic stress disorder is caused by memories unresolved through actions of others.
My childhood is filled with memories of being bullied by another sibling, his friends attacking me at age 8 with sexual innuendo and finally sexual abuse.
Sexual abuse which occurred prepubescent blamed on me, not the abuser. There are multiple victims.
PTSD is knowing you mother knowingly discovered the sexual abuse, allowed it to continue, and was told by her Catholic clergy to protect her son because her daughter’s were not intended to remain family members.
PTSD is the mother explaining “He did not molest your younger sisters and I believe them” …….(wtf and the lawsuit from the cousin along with his other victims do not matter….just like me? Total rage.)
A mother out of control each Christmas to see a tinsel colored tree thrown through a window. (Got this one under control! 🎄)
Same mama woman screaming and demanding that I or any of her children all under age 12, take her life while holding a serrated edged bread knife to her own throat….. begging those beaten down eyes to kill her….
PTSD IS the Same mother asking why I had not died in place of my sister. (Who died of a viral infection age 14.)
Post traumatic stress disorder is living with the moments ANY of the memories were real and believing at ANY time, ANY moment BE IT AGE 8, 10 or 20 the ACTUAL MOMENT COULD BECOME REAL AT ANY TIME.
PTSD is living through the death of you father and having blame placed of his death because your holding his hand rather than any other sub step-king caused fear in collecting inheritance of his life. .
PTSD Is being forced to follow the half empty funeral procession limousines of your father in your own car because your family blames you and refused you to mourn your father’s death. Why? Because you refuse to back down from the truth….you were molested by the one who holds the family checkbook in his hand?
PTSD equals That family is afraid to accept the truth because they want their money more than they want your truth?
Depression is accepting your life is nothing in those who should love you but have chosen money instead?
Depression is accepting your sister became a second rate nurse but to only claim the title, claim experience. Yet it was you who bailed her out if jail for numerous underage alcohol incidents as well as privately escorted her to STD clinics and held her secret privy as she was given numerous unforgettable lifelong diagnosis.
PTSD was keeping secrets from the world because you felt if only from guilt.
Battling depression and PTSD equals abandoning everything and everyone you thought was family and trusted was the furthest from trusted.
PSTSD is continuing the charade unable to visit mother because she has dementia.
PTSD IS SHAKE, SHAKE DONT WAKE THE NUTS UP.
PTST is being in control of your feeling while remaining estranged from the above?
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Pictures can tell the story of the wild weather we have had in New England! In February we had a blast of heat! Upwards of 90 degrees with the windows wide open for 2 days followed by a downward spiral right into snow! It remained unreasonably COLD throughout March April and May.
This is my favorite picture of all Ive taken today! Just a few Columbine flowers have grown so far. There will be many more soon! The dual shades of purple and violet sitting mext to the orange solar light are a pretty mixture?
Followed by an incredible Yard Crasher of our very own…Whitey. He is an very photogenic 7 years old outdoor- only kitty who arrived as a very scared, feral kitten. He is now a photogenic young man with his own posse of followers from our secluded neighborhood.
Inside the greenhouse is filled with lettuce, basil, cilantro, tomatoes, and even a mini pineapple plant!
Returning to our front yard you will find another attempt at grass growing…..last year due to using old seed, extreme heat and a drought the resulting grass grown reminded me of spiked barb wire. It was scary stuff! This year I’ve begun laying current grass seed, no more budget friendly seed in this house. Wink-wink.
Last but not least I can’t forget to mention the gosh darn woodchuck and his never full belly. What was an almost perfect White Marigold, the same flowers written as safe to grow because a woodchuck’s palate is not fond. Wrong! The second photo shows a row perfectly nibbled right down leaving a neat row. The first photo I have planted the same flowers (all grown in my greenhouse) thriving simply because the gosh darn woodchuck can’t wiggle his chubby little body up and over into a 24″ planter.
Finally I will leave you with my FAVORITE PLANT! My granddaughter and I each selected a plant the first year of our garden. She selected a Butterfly Bush. It blooms with sweet fragranced tiny lilac colored flowers which are so perfect in eatery way! The scent isn’t over-powering, it’s just perfect to call out to the humming birds as the travel from bird feeder to feeder. I’w awaiting the day when I can grab my first of the season hummingbird as each awaits a turn at the sugar water I leave for the tiny bird flock!
A few more radar shots from my photo shoot in my front yard! Much of what is growling I don’t know exactly what they are. I was giving a huge bin of random plants several years ago. It was a hot season. Having a chronic illness as I do, (hyperthyroid, iron over load and fibromyalgia) working in the yard is hard work. I placed all the plants including builds together. Over the last 2 years I have been diligently dividing the plants up and placing separately. Here are a few pictures.
It’s spring here in Massachusetts finally. The long winter hibernation is almost over. Winter is brutal but spring makes you forget all about it…..mostly. Been considering moving to a warmer climate but then I drive past my second favorite spot and think “I live up high upon a hill, why change anything?”