Mama’s Gingerbread House

Candlewick Gingerbread House designed and sewn by our Mama/Momma

Needs a touch up, so I took it to her yesterday. She will wash it, block it, and have the lace sitting “just so” when she works her magic. I have the last real Christmas Tree she decorated. She gave it to me, changing her Christmas decor; her little cozy place of her own. I wanted her to have her beautiful gingerbread creation. Although it’s tiny, a lot of love and time were invested in this project she completed in 1986.

Back of Mama’s Gingerbread House
Side 1 of Mama’s Gingerbread House.
Side 2 of Mama’s Gingerbread House.
Roof of Mama’s Gingerbread House.

Practicing The Art of Becoming since 2015

Sometimes, I’m eight different people in a day! If you don’t believe me, check out this blog.
I’m like this zinnia that illustrated the Art of Becoming…

This summer, I had beautiful orange and yellow zinnias showing out in my garden. Warm weather lingered and a new crop of zinnias popped up with this new color from the scattered seeds…

I call this new zinnia practicing the Art of Becoming “Oink”.

Orange and pink. I’ll lose them for the season, our first freeze begins tomorrow night. Yes, I am different, sometimes by the minute. I feel my environment, which overwhelmed me until I became “seasoned”, learning and practicing the Art of Becoming.

Becoming Professor Pretorius

More Letters from UrHere

Howdy Neighbor,

I traveled the world, then moved back to “The Circle” (country version of a city block). Our families were neighbors for generations and here we are! Together. You have given me the safest home I ever had because you are not an abuser. Thank you for believing in your wife when I couldn’t believe in myself. May we have many more arrowhead seasons together. Please forgive me. I didn’t know how dysfunctional I was until I began to heal. I forgive you. We are Kintsugi Hearts–strength and beauty mending the broken places.

Dear Best Friend andTravel Buddy, I’ve missed you so much since you died from a rare and sudden illness on April 20, 2017. Please forgive me. Your friendship was precious to me, yet I failed you. I thought we had many years ahead of us to travel together. We had plans for a Mississippi Foodie Tour; we planned to fly to the Land of Blue Butterflies. You helped me find my words. Dysfunctional family relations had me so distressed and distracted, it’s taken years to buckle down and concentrate. I regret so many things I missed with you. I never made it to a college football game with you. I missed your son’s wedding. I was blessed to have you in my life. No forgiveness needed; you were a true blue friend. I’m planning a solo trip to our favorite spot. I’ll take an early morning walk like we used to do; looking for driftwood, sand dollars, and mermaid fingernails. More pictures of our log if it hasn’t been rolled by the tide back into the gulf. Sitting in our spot, I will listen as waves and wind whisper words.