Another brightly sunny filled day, while cold, and yet again filled with treed hoar frost. Yummm.

Yes, I've been writing again. This one has been tough but it is finished in about its first draft. It is about Winnie. I am presenting it tonight with my writer's group. I will decide what to do with my story then.

Here is a picture which I worked with for quite some time the day I was playing with my templates and blog set up. I think it was Sunday last. I was going to use this for a banner. Maybe some of you got to see it if you happened to stop by sometime on Sunday. I then decided it was too loud. I'll make a new banner another day. I just cut out the part I like best.
Yes Suze, there is definitely a resemblance. By glancing at it momentarily I notice especially our noses. I think it would be too difficult to take a picture in the same pose. Just as I said to Greg that I probably would have much difficulty visiting the grave site anytime soon - one day.

And the music which is being played over and over again for me this day, more about a love of family:

Who am I?
I stop to think about this quite often. I stop to think about this nearly every day. As I pause to think on it I realize I am constantly growing and changing. I learn so many new things every day - about myself, about the world around me, about life and all its pieces, including death. Though there is so much that changes there are also parts that seem constant - love surrounding me, wonderful family, and wonderful friends. The people that love me may change, the amount of that love may change but there is always love.
This is a year of many celebrations for our family. Greg and I both turn 50 this year. Our daughter turns 16 in September on the 11th. My parents celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary and Greg and I celebrate our 25th wedding anniversary. While these celebrations are note worthy I also try to remind myself that every moment, every day is a celebration.
Angels be with you as you celebrate the moments of your own life,
Wendy


Greg on the morning of his birthday, last Saturday, July 21.


Me and Greg at supper on his birthday.


My parents on June 24th the day of their 60th wedding anniversary.

"And I think to myself, WHAT A WONDERFUL WORLD" - I have completed my February journal quilt, only four days late. That's OK. I'm trying to worry less - kind of like a lenten sacrifice, New Year's resolution, dream wish for life. The journal quilt is for the CPS journal quilt group to which I belong. I think the quilt, together with the words on cardstock explain the quilt enough for now. To read the poem Orange, see the post from yesterday.

I'll talk more about the embroidery another day. I started morning pages and they still need to be completed, huh, it's almost 10 p.m. I want to tell you about what's been happening.

Angels be with you.

Wendy

Orange: I'm not quite certain if this journal quilt is totally finished but will try to squeeze it in yet for artwords whose theme for this week has been poetry. Though some of the words to "what a wonderful world" are on the quilt I was spending a lot of time thinking about the poem I wrote called "Orange" as I was making it.

The photos are of my Dad, my Mom and brother, and then my brother and me. Family is very important to me, for those of you not yet aware of that. Though I grew up with "Orange", I never would have been able to get to the place I am without the love and support of my wonderful family.

When I was a child

With diabetes,

I grew to hate

The colour orange.
The sugar in my body

Needed testing.
Orange

Meant sugar,

Too much Sugar.

And now -

I envision lines,

And lines,

And lines,

In the record book,

Lines of orange.

As a child with Diabetes

What

Went through my mind

About these lines of orange

In the Record Book?
They were always present.

I probably did not even recognize

Any interspersal of beautiful blue,

Or calming green.

Striving For perfection?

Who Me?

Striving to erase all those lines,

Of orange,

Which could never

Be erased.

Striving to erase the lines

Of imperfection

Which would be

Forever

Part of me.

Today -

I can truly appreciate

The colour orange.
Now I understand

It represents joy.

I work towards Joy.

I strive for it.

I strive

For more imperfection.

The striving

Is not easy.

Forever will live in me -

Those lines and lines

Of the colour orange.

Feeling sew unsorted - a journal page I've been working on for a few days. The unsorted feeling has been here for a time but growing more over last few days this week. We were supposed to go to Saskatoon yesterday but it was storming again. We were supposed to go to a wedding in Saskatoon today but we are all sick, and the roads may still not be that great.

I am also experiencing a bit of a block mainly because my sewing machine has not been working for the past two weeks and I have a deadline to complete my February journal quilt by Wednesday. Someone else used the song that I was planning to use as suggested theme and I just felt I didn't want to use it even though I know it wouldn't have mattered.

Though I've chosen a different song AND hand painted (also suggested for this month) a number of pieces of fabric I could choose to use, I just can't get into it. I think it's what you would call a block.

Now my sewing machine is back. I've chosen the photos I want to use on my quilt and I've started pulling fabrics out that might work with the red painted fabrics. Tomorrow...

The photos are of my Dad, my brother with me, and my brother with Mom. I have to decide how to place them in the journal quilt. I may not even use them. Decisions.

Stay tuned to learn more from the seminar I attended about "art as a business" and also a piece I'm planning to write "Breathe like a frog".

Almost forgot to mention that if you enlarge the journal page, ummm, don't look too closely at the words of the background. It's just the old book I happened to get it from. Though maybe you could imagine me tearing with my teeth and using my tusks. lol Maybe it fits with breathing like a frog.

Angels be with you.

I believe in faith and hope. I believe in angels. I believe in miracles.
I have been so happy to be a part of seeing the miracle of Mark, and his mother Darlene and to see what can happen when people pray, when people have faith in a higher power, when people gather together, even in the land of blog. I was so amazed today to see the wonderful smiles of Mark - the wonderful smiles of Mark today. If you are not familiar with Mark and his amazing family go back to mid-December on Darlene's blog and read about something tragic. Continue to read the posts. Look at the number of comments. Read the comments. It is a wonderful story.
Mark and Darlene and the rest of the family still need our thoughts and prayers. If you are so inclined, please say a prayer. Grieving, anger, fear, questions - they do not magically disappear. They do not disappear overnight. Relationships change. Our prayers are needed. Maybe a prayer of thanksgiving would be called for also.
"Believe - you may see miracles happening all about you."

Art Journal: I may want to do more work on this piece but it's getting too late tonight. On the bottom left corner I did some colours I wasn't happy with. Then I tried to cover it. Now it's not balanced. I need to add one other element. I think I know exactly what it needs. Maybe tomorrow.

I got a new large stamp today and figured out how to use it. That's something achieved. I think this is also the first time I've used a collage image from flickr. The photos are of my brother - little fellow beside the young lady with the crown, and some of my cousins.

The princess died when she was 13 or 14 years old of heart problems. She was about 3 years older than I. Her birthday was the day before my brother's.

Wishing you magic - either of your own creating or brought to you on a gentle breeze.

November 14, 2006

Please find "How many tears?" at windyangelsandyou.

A new morning:

The sky had been filled with dark clouds. As we drove home after the funeral of my cousin David, the sun seemed to want to shine from the east, beneath the clouds. The time was 6:30 p.m. It felt like a new morning. Corporal David Robert William Braun had been put to rest.

I never really knew my cousin David. I feel saddened by this fact. He sounds like such a wonderful young man. My heart was especially touched when Jim Braman said quietly, "He is speaking volumes to us now, let's listen."

David did what he did to help the world find peace.

A new morning - some day.

Ecclesiastes 3: 1-8


For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;

A time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;

A time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;

A time to throw away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;

A time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to throw away;

A time to tear, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;

A time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war,


and a time for peace.

In memory of Corporal David Braun - 27th Canadian soldier to die in Afghanistan since 2002:

God is holding out his hands to you. They hold in them the Earth and the Universe and the Heavens. Now, they are being held, to you.

In God's hands are pearls, beautiful shiny pearls. They are so tiny. Though tiny, you see them hiding amidst dust and grime and muck built up over the centuries. God is watching you. He is watching your heart, and your hands. He sees you wipe away your tears with your own hands. Now he sees you reach toward His hands and start to brush away the dust. He sees you trying to pick out the pieces of muck and grime. He is watching as you struggle. There are more tears. You forget. You go to brush them away. Your face, also, becomes marked by the muck and grime.
God reaches to you. His hands touch your face. They smooth away all the tears, all the muck. Then God bends down. In one soft breath, he blows all the dust and grime and muck out of his own hands. The shiny pearls of joy are left in all their glory.

You recognize them. You reach and grasp them. You look up. God has turned away. You lift the joy to your heart.

In the past days my appetite has been "longing for peace", especially since we learnt of the death of my cousin as the 27th Canadian soldier to die in Afghanistan while trying to keep peace together with 2,200 other Canadian soldiers.
I did this background as one of nancyB's tutorials .http://www.somethingtwocrowabout.typepad.com/ I quickly put the words on it's scanned image but hope to work more with the actual background.
Mundo Uno ~ "One world, one future, for the children"

PEACE?
Originally uploaded by Windy Angels.

Where, oh where will we find peace? My prayers are for peace, especially now. My heart feels it is breaking for the 27th Canadian soldier killed in Afghanistan since 2002. This young soldier was my cousin. He was the son of my cousin Patty, who is the same age as I. He was the first-born.
Another civilian died as a result of the suicide car bomb and in the aftermath yet another child was killed.
Mundo uno – one world, one future, for the children.
Where, oh where will we find peace?