St. Michael's Wife

The Horrified Hostess PART 2b

2012-01-12T17:00:00.001-06:00

Oooooo! I've been a baaaaad blogger! I'm just having a hard time finding the time, my sistas, since the School House has started back up. And, to be honest, as much as I enjoy it, blogging is way down on my list of priorities this new year. I'm trying to walk out what I preach, and that means time going to other things. (Gosh darnit, sometimes it's hard not being my usual self-centered self and not doing just what I'd like to do and, instead, doing what I really NEED to do.)

Today, though, I am able to get in a quickie continuation of our "Horrified Hostess" Series!

The last installment was Part 2, in which we asked ourselves the question, What are we afraid of?

I guess that post really should've been called Part 2a, since it's going to end up having three parts to it (you know, like the top THREE things we're afraid of) -- 2a being our "Guests" (I advised you to start with your bestest-of-all sista-friends), 2b being the "Food" (that's the post I'm cookin' up today -- g r o a n -- sorry, I couldn't resist!), and finishing up with 2c, the "House."

Now, without further delay, 2b (or not to be . . . sorry, couldn't resist again . . . )

Girlfriend, if the menu is what's stopping you from "entertaining," I've got four words for you: Keep It Simple, Sista! (Also known as the KISS method.)

After all, there are no rules that say . . .

everything has to made from scratch.
you have to make what your mother would make (or in the way your mother makes it).
the meal has to be a certain number of courses long.
the meal has to be formal.
the meal even has to be prepared by your own little hands. (Now that's a biggie, ain't it! In fact, my mother will pass right out if she reads this post.)

My best advice is to find something you are good at, and go with that. Truly. Seriously. I'm not kidding.

For example, I can do chili. There's not much I can do to mess it up, and people usually like it. So, that's something that's pretty safe for me to plan on doing. (When Baby Daughter lived at home, I would always get her to make me a pan of lasagna ahead of time, and I'd do a salad and garlic bread. But, alas, Baby Daughter is now in California fixing lasagna for Sailor Man. Sniff, sniff.)

Here's what a typical "chili" menu might look like at the Casita:

Chili and the Fixin's

(the "fixin's" include grated cheese,

sour creme, salsa, Fritos, tortilla chips,

sweet corn bread, sliced jalapenos)

Easiest Ever Dessert Cake

Peach Tea and a Variety of Soft Drinks

(NOTE: I do my chili without beans 'cause I've

discovered that more people like it without than with.)

Really, what could be much easier?

N- O - T - H - I - N - G !

Additional benefits?

I can do a big pot of chili ahead of time and then be free to do those last-minute, confidence-boosting pick-ups and fluffings that make me feel a little more company-ready before everyone arrives. (Or I can sit down and relax a minute!)
Any leftovers (there usually aren't any, though) are easily frozen for another time or refrigerated for tomorrow's lunch.
Chili makes the whole house smell so warm and inviting!
I can serve it buffet-style, and people can fix it for themselves in a variety of ways.
It works for a lunch-time or dinner-time affair.
It's enjoyed by women and men, alike.

I'm not promoting chili, I'm just saying that it's my go-to, easiest ever dish. Find out what yours is, and go with it. (I'm also making the point that your go-to dish doesn't have to be fancy-shmancy!)

If there is one rule for the Horrified Hostess regarding food, though, it's this:

AN ENTERTAINING OCCASION IS NOT THE

TIME TO TRY OUT A BRAND NEW RECIPE!

And today I will leave you on that cryptic note . . . (yes, there are stories!)

Next post, just in case you, too, think that chili might be your thing, I'll tell you just how EASY it can be to make it, along with my Easiest Ever Dessert Cake (that people rave over).

Until then, grins!

Pamm

PS I have no idea why the spacing is coming out so weird!

The Horrified Hostess - PART 2: What are you afraid of?

2011-12-20T18:24:00.003-06:00

What are you afraid of?

House . . . not clean enough?

Not nice enough?

Not big enough?

Food . . . not edible?

Not suitable for guests?

Not ready on time?

Guests . . . not comfortable?

Bored? (Boring?)

Arriving too early? (Staying too late?)

Tip # 2 of this series: Figure out what you're afraid of when it comes to entertaining.

Until you figure this out, you can't you tackle it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you're afraid of entertaining, but you're determined to conquer that fear and get into the game, you'll be happy to hear that the best way to do that is to ease yourself into it. No one who's afraid of the water gets into the pool by doing a reverse 2 1/2 somersault in the pike position off the 3-meter springboard. It is perfectly acceptable -- and, in fact, highly recommended -- instead, to simply take one step at a time down into the shallow end of the pool with the idea of just getting your suit wet! (Whew! Isn't that a relief! Don't you feel better already?)

photo from lovemaegan.com

I really do think that any fears we have about entertaining fall into one of those categories listed above -- our houses, our food, or our guests. (I know that some of you would put a big, fat check by each of those categories, but if you really focus on those scary thoughts, one category probably dominates the others. If not, well, pick one and just go with it for now. We'll get to all of them over the next couple of weeks.)

I know that at the top of this post, I listed our houses first, but I'm actually going to start with our guests. And there's a reason for that. After all, WHO you invite into your home -- your "guest" list -- is the component you have the most control over in this whole entertaining equation!

In the pool of entertaining, who better to make a little splash with than friends? (My motto is What good are your friends if you can't use 'em?) That's right. FRIENDS. CLOSE friends.

There are huge advantages to choosing close friends as your first ~~guinea pigs~~ guests when you're just getting back into your entertaining groove.

Advantage #1) You know them well, so you know their likes and dislikes. (These are the folks it should be easy to make feel comfortable).

#2) You should have plenty to talk about (so neither they nor you should be bored or boring).

#3) And perhaps the biggest advantage of all, you can be honest with them. (If this isn't the case, you need some new close friends.) You should be able to tell them that you haven't had anyone over in quiet a while and you're a little nervous. (You probably don't want to tell them that you thought they'd be easy, but you get the idea, right?) You can even tell really close friends not to dare show up early! (If I knew them well enough, I've actually been known to tell prospective guests my Golden Guest Rule: Come on time if you must. Come late if you can. Don't EVER come early!)

#4) Close friends aren't going to be concerned with your house. (Do the best you can with your house, and then forget about it and have fun! More about our houses, remember, in a later post.)

#5) Close friends can usually tell when everyone's had enough fun and it's time for them to head home.

#6) Close friends want to spend time with you, so just about anything you do together -- regardless of your house, the food, or the ocassion -- will be a success. And that's important when you're doing something that scares you. (NOTE: Learn to set yourself up for SUCCESS!)

Photo from Laine and Abby's Ccookie Exchange on facebook

One success under your belt will give you the confidence to try for another! (And before you know it, you won't be just sticking your toe in the water; you'll be doing laps at champ time!)

Next time we'll talk about house horrors -- imagined or real -- and how to overcome them . . .

Meanwhile, call a friend to stop over for a cup of coffee or hot chocolate in between last-minute Christmas shopping, or call a couple of friends to come over for an impromptu wrapping party. (Hey, wrapping Christmas presents is supposed to be messy, so as long as at least one bathroom's clean, you don't even worry about the rest of the house! And just pop some pre-made chocolate-chip cookie dough into the oven or pick up some cookies from the grocery store or local bakery, and you're set!)

Ahhh, the sweet smell of ~~coffee and cookies~~ success!

Grins!

Pamm

The Horrified Hostess - Part 1

2011-12-16T12:48:00.000-06:00

Photo from dress4dinner.com.

[And for those of you wondering, yes, of course this is a picture of me. Why do you ask?]

I DID IT!

TWICE IN ONE DAY!

WOO HOO!

I ENTERTAINED! After our early dismissal from school last Friday, I had a group of women over for lunch and then a mere few hours later had friends over for dinner!

Big deal, some of you are thinking. Well, for me, IT IS!

In my younger years (the ones that I miss in so many ways), I loved having people over to my casa. But somewhere along the way, I got out of the habit.

And then, I somehow lost my confidence about the whole thing.

[Before we continue, let me state for the record, that in other ways I LOVE being a 50s-something -- 54, to be exact -- woman. )

I'm not a great cook, and I'm a worse housekeeper, so I guess I worried that if the "entertaining" involved cooking, the meal would flop. And/Or that the house wouldn't be clean enough -- that maybe one of the dust bunnies I had come to think of as beloved pets would jump from behind the couch and bite a guest on the ankle or something.

You fellow Horrified Hostesses out there can attest to the things-that-can-go-wrong-nightmares the imagination can produce. And it doesn't help if you, yourself, are, in turn, entertained frequently by friends who make Martha Stewart look like a slacker. (Or that your very own mother cooks for groups of 75 or more without breaking a sweat and actually thinks it's fun.)

Considering our phobias, why in the world then would any of us want to entertain?

Aha! FIRST TIP IN THIS SERIES: THAT is exactly the question you have to ask yourself and then honestly answer: Why do I even care about this whole entertaining thing?

If you want to entertain simply because you think you should (or someone else told you that you have to), you want to impress people with your hostess-with-the-mostest skills (which we've already determined that we Horrified Hostesses probably don't naturally have), or you want to show off your new house (or your new flooring, your new sofa, your new whatever), or you're trying to make people to think you're someone you're not (hey, let's get real, here). . . well, then stop right now where you stand. I can't help you.

But . . . if you find yourself genuinely having a deep desire to share your home with people you know and love (or want to get to know) because you feel that to share your home is to share yourself, then you're on the right track.

The best hostesses I know (and I'm blessed to know many), more than any other skill, have the ability to make others feel truly welcomed not only into their homes but into their hearts.

If you're wanting to gather friends and family into your home for that welcoming-and-lovin'-on reason alone, then I believe you can overcome anything that's keeping you from flinging open the doors and saying, "Ya'll come on in!"

And, that, I think I can help you with. (Trust me, sister, if I can do it, so can you!) So tune in later this week for the next Horrified Hostess post.

Grins!

Pamm

PS Okay, I realize there is no burlap in this post. Sorry. The first post just kinda took a different turn. But if it excites you (and it seems to be exciting lots of us in Blog Land these days), then I promise some burlap will be coming!

NEW SERIES: The Horrified Hostess!

2011-12-16T12:24:00.000-06:00

From thesaurus.com:

Main Entry:

reluctant [ri-luhk-tuh nt]

Part of Speech:

adjective

Definition:

unenthusiastic, unwilling

Synonyms:

afraid, averse, backward, calculating, cautious, chary, circumspect, demurring, diffident, discouraged, disheartened, disinclined, grudging, hanging back, hesitant, hesitating, indisposed, involuntary, laggard, loath, opposed, queasy, recalcitrant, remiss, shy, slack, slow, squeamish, tardy, uncertain, uneager, wary

Antonyms:

anxious, eager, enthusiastic, ready, willing

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Okay, I know that some of you won't have a clue as to why anyone would need anything dubbed The Reluctant Entertainer, much less The Horrified Hostess. But as I've learned over the years, there really are other women like me out there -- women who, for whatever reason, are wary of, slow to, squeamish about, intimidated by, or just downright scared silly of "entertaining" folks in their homes. (Even their friends!)

Beginning tomorrow, I'm starting a new series of posts for those women who, like me, somehow lost their entertaining groove but would seriously like to get it back . . . so stay turned! (There'll be pictures and everything!)

Hint for tomorrow's first post . . . BURLAP!

PINK FUN!

2011-12-10T15:14:00.001-06:00

Believe it or not, this is the only

picture from my Canton trip!

(Well, at least I made it a fun one!)

Bev and I had a great time on our Girl-Trip, despite my losing ALL of my money before we even left our motel.

Yup. You read that right.

ALL.

OF.

MY.

MONEY.

GONE.

I have no idea how it happened. Bev had gone down to the lobby ahead of me to check on something. I patted the wad (yep, it was a wad) in the front pocket of my jeans as I left our room. I took the elevator downstairs, checked my E-mail at the motel's computer center, used the downstairs ladies' room, and then Bev and I drove across the street -- literally -- to grab breakfast. As I reached into my pocket at the drive-thru, I realized my pocket was empty.

We rushed right back across the street to our motel, alerted the staff, and then looked everywhere, as we retraced my steps, but no money. NO money. No MONEY. None. Zip. Nada.

Y'know what, though? I decided that we were not going to let a rocky start ruin our trip, and it didn't! I prayed that I'd find my money, but then I did something kinda crazy . . . I reminded myself that everything I have belongs to Papa-God, and I asked Him to use it to bless someone who really needed it. (Bev said she'd pray that whoever found it would feel guilty for not turning it in! LOL!)

Don't get me wrong -- sure, I was disappointed that I'd somehow lost my "fun funds" (and truth be told, I felt like a big dummy -- make that a HUGE dummy -- for losing it), but choosing to trust Papa with it made all the difference, I think, in being able to enjoy the rest of the trip and not think of it, instead, as a disaster.

That being said, I did find some fun things to bring home, most of it coming from the Goodwill store in Tyler. (Goodwill accepts debit cards! And we always stop at the Goodwill in Tyler as part the whole Canton-trip experience.) In fact, I have one project-buy that I found there, but I'm saving it to show you later (like "before" and "after" later -- maybe after Christmas 'cause, hopefully, I'll be able to get it done while I'm off from the School House).

Meanwhile, enjoy this wonderful pink . . . uh . . . sculpture? I've seen this every time I've been to Canton, and it always says the same thing to me:

FUN!

And I'm all about sharing the fun, so here it is for you to enjoy, too!

I hope you're doing something fun this weekend!

Grins,

Pamm

Canton Trade Days!

2011-12-01T11:18:00.001-06:00

All pictures in this post are from a feature Country Living magazine did on Canton Trade Days.

[Look at those scrumptious colors! BE STILL, MY HEART!]

I'm going to CANTON for First Monday!

No, not Canton, Ohio -- Canton, TEXAS!

Every weekend before the first Monday of each month, Canton, Texas, hosts a huge flea market, antique show, craft fair, yard sale . . . well, an EVERYTHING sale! If you need something or just plain ol' want something, it gonna be in Canton. Sister-friend, Bev, and I are leaving right after school for some much needed Girl-Time and some shopping! I'll try to take some pics and then give you the scoop when I get back to Casita 422! Until then . . .

I'M GOING TO CANTON!

[Yep, this is what Bev and I are going to be doing!]

[I just LOVE me some junque-diggin'!]

["The stars at night . . . are big and bright . . . deep in the heart of Texas" . . .

but I'll take this kind, too!]

[Stained glass, anyone, IN OLD WINDOWS (!) ? ]

Everything sparkles at Canton!

Happy Birthday to Me!

2011-11-28T20:04:00.001-06:00

Wasn't it just yesterday that I told you I use cake pedestals primarily for displaying things other than CAKES? But I came home today to find this sugar-free brownie (complete with candle!) waiting for me here to celebrate my birthday! (Awwwww, thank you, Honey!) Just more proof of something I've learned over the years: The "little things" speak love just as loudly as any "big things" I can think of.

Now, speaking of little things -- as in those fun details that so many of us enjoy when it comes to our decorating -- here are a few up-close pics of some of those little details:

Oldest Daughter met and married her husband in San Francisco and sent this sweet star ornament to me when they lived there. I'm using it to top off the "Charlie Brown Christmas tree" this year.

These goodies hang on the "Charlie Brown Christmas tree" that sits near the entryway from the foyer into the den. Of course, the police car has a story behind it . . . let's just say I'm glad I'm "free" for the holidays!

The bottom couple of shelves hold hydrangeas (love hydrangeas!) tucked into an old leather cosmetic case, old dominoes, a favorite crock, and more family photos. Simple poinsettias snuggling into places here and there make everything immediately more festive and holiday-ready. (Remember, I'm all about cheap, fast, and easy!)

Obviously, I love being surrounded by pictures of the people I love! The pic in the background is my favorite childhood pic of Oldest Daughter, and the laughing face in the ticking-striped frame is Grand-diva. (The little antique oil lamp was my great-grandfather's.)

I love this old framed print of Santa that I found in a thrift store a few years ago. I have no idea how old it is, but the style has a 20s-30s look to it. When I like something, I don't really care about its pedigree, I just care about enjoying it!

Here's another view of the den (what you'd see if you came in the back door, through the laundry room and the breakfast area). I'm not an expert at taking pics, so forgive the glare of the lamps I left on when I was snapping away.

I'm including this next pic 'cause I'm sooooo proud of my Baby Sister. She said she was inspired by my latest posts to hit up Goodwill on her way home today. (She's in Virginia, but teaches in North Carolina, so this might be a NC location; if it is, then I've been to this one with her, and it IS great! The GWs here in my part of Texas are a bit too proud of their $tuff for me.) Anyway, this was her incredible score today:

Yes, it's a LEATHER chair! A BASSETT LEATHER CHAIR! In perfect, like-new condition! (The little spot you see toward the top of the back of the chair is not a flaw -- it's the price sticker.) Now, are you ready for the best part? That little price sticker says "$35"! YES! She paid $35 for it! And it will match the furniture she already has in her family room perfectly! Yep, I am a proud sister tonight! (She also got a slip-covered ottoman for $15 and some other Christmas odds and ends and household nick-knacks, but it's the chair that still just blows me away!)

Way to go, CT!

"All Is Shiney and Bright!"

2011-11-27T20:09:00.001-06:00

One of the easiest, ~~cheapest~~ most economical ways to bling-up for Christmas is to gather up all of those shiney ~~orbs~~ balls rolling around the bottom of the Christmas boxes and then ~~just fling~~ ~~scatter~~ simply nestle them in, around, and amongst the everyday things you already have displayed throughout your house. Everything on this table -- except for the Christmas balls and the lone poinsettia -- is sitting exactly where it sits year-round. (Well, where it probably would sit year-round if we'd been in this house a year!) Slipping a few shiney ornaments into the distressed tray that holds family pics makes all the difference for the holidays! Fast, easy, and cheap! (Sounds like . . . never mind! We won't go there!)

The picture of that handsome devil in the left foreground is the Saint's high school senior picture. It was taken the same year as the large 8x10 of me in the background! I love to point that out to visitors! (Of course, the man has darn good genes, and these days you would never guess that there's a fifteen-year age difference between us. I live in fear that in a few more years we'll show up places together and people will greet him with, "Oh, how nice that you brought your older sister!" Then again, I should look as good as his older sister!)

Now, how cute is this little face! (The one on the right!) That's the Saint as a little boy; I love this picture! And then there's my favorite Reading Rabbit who hopped off the Hob Lob clearance shelf a few years back to come home with me.

I use cake pedestals for displaying just about everything BUT cake! (I need cake sitting around the Casita like I need another head . . . I mean, let's just say that it wouldn't be sitting around the Casita very long before it ended up displayed on my backside. Besides, remember, I don't cook or bake.)

I told you I LOVE letters of all sorts: The "M" is our last initial, and the "Q"s? They stand for QUEEN, of course! :-)

Hope you are feeling shiney and bright as we prepare to jump into a brand new week of possibilities!

Grins!

Pamm

The Heart of the Nest

2011-11-26T12:44:00.001-06:00

I know that most folks think the heart of the home is the kitchen. (These are people who've obviously never eaten my cooking.) For us, the heart of Casita 422 is the family room (or the "den"). This is where I sit and drink coffee and talk with Papa-God in the early hours of the morning (or sometimes late at night) and then unwind at the end of the day. (And the Saint has been known to watch a football game or two here. I have to admit, we do love our television.)

When you step into the den from the entryway, our fireplace and this built-in bookcase are to your right. (I love this old green cabinet that sister-friend Beverly and I found at a Houston estate sale for $35. I immediately fell for its original, chippy, crackled apple-green paint and knew that it would for sure be making the move from the Casa to the Casita.)

When the girls were small, my Little Mama made the Santa that's sitting on the green chest in the previous pic. She can make just about anything, and for this project a friend gave her some wool straight from a real, live sheep, so she used that for Santa's hair and beard. (I painted his face on, and he has become a beloved Christmas treasure.) Baby Daughter brought this little clay church home to me from Germany several years back.

I adore old wooden alphabet blocks (actually, I think I'm a sucker for anything having to do with letters and words), and I found these at a thrift store. (Duh!) The lamp sitting to the right of them (in the first pic) was a $5 grab from a Hob Lob clearance shelf last year, and the barn-red wood book holder hanging on the wall above the green chest was a thrift store find during our visit-family-in-Ohio trip summer before last. (The Saint had a great time playing golf with his sister while I hit every thrift store in all areas surrounding Medina, OH! One of the best vacations ever!)

Look to your left from the doorway of the foyer, and you'll see the cozy space where the Saint and I really live. (Cozy 'cause I cram so much stuff into one space!) I told you that the Casita is much smaller than the Casa, but what we did not give up was living space in the den and in the master bath -- those areas are actually much larger here at the Casita. (Where we did sacrifice space was the kitchen, other bedrooms, and storage areas -- all areas where we could easily adjust.)

Just for fun, here's a run-down of the cost of the major pieces in this room:

Overstuffed brown chenille chair - $100, Craigslist
Navy blue leather overstuffed chair, matching ottoman - $125, Craigslist
Brown velvet Century sofa slip-covered in painters' dropcloth (by my Little Mama) - $425 at a resale shop (but I traded a well-used faux-leather (yuck!) couch and loveseat set for it, and even made $175 on the deal! I found the sofa on Century's website for just over $1,500! Admittedly two legs are kinda broken, but we've learned to move the sofa when necessary and then just stick the legs back in where they belong!)
Round oak pedestal table (covered in fabric) between navy chair and sofa - FREE (left at the Casita for me by its previous owner; I paid $25 at a flea market for the large piece of glass sitting on it)
Red antique kitchen cabinet (with its original "Macy's" tin plate affixed to the inside) - FREE (left at the Casa 28 years ago by its previous owner)
Dark wooden antique chest sitting on sewing machine base - FREE (traded for a wooden "Baylor Bears!" necklace I painted for a friend's daughter years ago)
Singer sewing machine base with butcher block top - FREE (inherited from "Uncle Dave")
Solid wood coffee table - $10 at a neighborhood garage sale (paid more for the baskets that fit onto the shelf underneath it than I did for the table! But worth every penny -- they hold lots of books and magazines out of sight)
Red wicker footstool - $10, garage sale
Pistachio green tea cart serving as a side table in the left foreground - $3, church garage sale

I do loooooove a bargain!

The is the view from just behind the navy chair and the green cabinet. The recliner is also covered in painters' dropcloth (half slip-covered, half upholstered by me; I'm not quite as adept at making fitted slip-covers as Little Mama). The tall bookshelf used to belong to Baby Daughter, but since it wouldn't fit into her little SUV to take to California, I was the designated beneficiary. It's flanked by two old shutters from a garage sale.

Another view of the recliner side of the den. The cabinet the television sits on was a dark wood for years, but when we moved into the Casita, it needed to be lightened up for the space, so I antiqued it "Country Tan," and painted the brass drawer pulls red. The Saint made the simple wooden frame on top to hold the cable box and DVD player. Once I painted and antiqued it to match the chest, you'd never know it hadn't been made as one piece. (Pretty handy living with a Saint!)

Thanks for stopping by! Come back tomorrow, and I'll show you some close ups of some of the nick-knacks that make me smile at Christmas!

I hope you're feeling cozy and enjoying the weekend out there in Blog Land!

Grins,

Pamm

Getting Our Bling On!

2011-11-25T15:41:00.033-06:00

This is a long post, but there are lots of pics!

I brought my girls up believing that to decorate for Christmas before Thanksgiving Day was absolute sacrilege, but I couldn't resist getting a jump on the season during my week off from school. And I've had a ball decorating these past few days!

I know that I mentioned it on my other blog (Texas Preacher Woman), but we down-sized last April from two-story Casa St. Michael to one-story Casita 422 (maybe a hundred yards from each other), and along with less square footage, we have MUCH less storage space. For some reason, this made St. Michael think I needed to move MUCH less Christmas stuff across the street to our new home. (I cannot tell you how much Christmas went out the front door of the Casa and off to new homes during our estate sale last spring!)

I wondered how that would work out when I started decorating for holidays, but I shouldn't have given it a second thought! LOL! Somehow there seemed to be plenty left to play house with this week! (And, okay, I did make a few small purchases at my favorite thrift stores this past week. Being the Queen of Cheap, you know I love me some bargains!)

All of our friends come through the back door here at the Casita, but I'm going to start us off just inside the front door and move right on into the dining room (which I think might be just a tiny bit bigger than the one at the Casa.)

This mirror that we inherited from the Saint's childhood friend, "Uncle Dave," hangs in the casita's small entryway and reflects the dining room. (Everything in the garland -- the greenery, the poinsettias, the wired ribbon, and the balls) came from a variety of area thrift stores.

The gold bling-y "ball" that hangs down in the center of the mirror was a gift from Middle Daughter a few years ago . . . it's made of dried beans pushed into a styro-foam sphere and spray-painted gold! Love it! (I'll have to end this post with a pic of what she did for Thanksgiving with dried beans!)

Being a Texas gal, I LOVE yellow roses, and the postcard in the lower right corner of the mirror is one Middle Daughter sent me years ago, and it's lived in the gilded mirror ever since.

Turning to the left, you can look into our dining room (and beyond into our tiny kitchen). I don't know if you remember from earlier posts, but my dining room set was a gift from a friend who moved into a large, fancy new home that didn't have a place for this quaint cuteness. (The Saint stripped it down for me, re-stained the top of the buffet and the table and then painted out the remaining parts as well as the chairs.)

I remade curtains from the Casa's breakfast room and used leftover fabric to recover two of the chairs and a leftover, coordinating stripe to recover the rest. (The hutch is an old piece from my girls bedrooms when they were little. I just painted it to coordinate with the table and buffet, and voila! Extra storage!) Oiled bronze chandy from Craigslist for $25! (Including the simple white drum shades!)

A favorite pic of Oldest Daughter and
her hubby on their wedding day sits
nestled among silk poinsettias on one
of the hutch selves.

Middle Daughter and her husband take
their place on another shelf. (Whoops! I'd
better dig out a pic of Baby Daughter and
her intended, Sailor Man, or
I'll be hearing about it!)

A front view of the buffet. (The lamps
were a gift from a designer friend when
she worked for a local builder who liked to
"dump" things from their warehouse on
a fairly regular basis. The red silk lamp
shades came from Ross and used to
live in the master bedroom at the Casa.)

Another view of the buffet. (The round
silver tray was a gift from the Saint's
late mother. She bought it as a young
woman shortly after she married the
Saint's father and had the first initial of
her new last name, an M, engraved
into the center.)

A small picture of the Saint's parents
as a young couple shares space on
a silver-plated tray with the dining room
Christmas tree. (The footed tray came
from a neighborhood garage sale; it's
ridiculously heavy and was
a steal at $15!)

An assortment of silver spoons from
"Uncle Dave's" family treasures sits in
my grandmother's candy dish at the
other end of the tray.

All of the ornaments on this tree
came from local thrift stores or garage
sales. This cross (and two others) on
the tree were among this year's
purchases from a thrift store than
provides shelter for women seeking
refuge from abusive relationships.

Looking at the table from the
kitchen-side of the dining room.

Red-trimmed giant linen napkin? Yup,
thrift store. Church ornaments, Christmas
balls, cake plate, glass com? Yup, thrift
store. Poinsettias? Yup. Shimmery red
beeswax candles? Yup, even they came
from a thrift store!

It took me five or six years to gather up five gold decorative napkins (the first one was the wrapping for a gift from one of my students years ago) but, yes, they, too, came, one or two at a time, from area thrift stores, as did these napkin rings. (Fortunately, most of my thrift store napkins came in fours, like the red ones tucked into the gold ones.) The dishes were an anniversary gift from the Saint a few years ago.

This Lenox-wanna-be nativity set was
a hand-me-down from Middle Daughter
(not quite her style), and the crystal
candle sticks were a gift from one of my
sister-friends, Debbie. (The silvery
chargers came from Hobby Lobby.)

And speaking of Middle Daughter, here's the pic I promised to end with . . .

THIS is what she did with dried beans,
candles, and orange burlap on her
Thanksgiving Day table . . .
AND she cooked the dinner!

Hope you are feeling blessed this week!

Grins,
Pamm

"Honey, I'm ho-ome!"

2011-11-11T17:01:00.014-06:00

I know I said I was moving back to my original home at Texas Preacher Woman, and I did (though I haven't posted anything over there in months . . . I've just been too tired and busy and then tired again!), but for whatever reason, I just decided to post a little bit here.

I'm feeling the itch to create. I get that way when I've been stressed for a while or too busy to do anything but work, work, work (which has been the case lately. Hey, you KNOW you've been too busy when you actually wish you had a day just to stay home and CLEAN! And, of course, some of us never clean without feathering and fluffy the nest at the same time!).

Thursday evening provided the perfect chance to let the creative juices flow at my church's annual Women's Tapestry Dinner. Women who volunteer to hostess a table decorate it to their heart's content with their own things, and it is always amazing to see what these women come up with! A-M-A-Z-I-N-G!

My camera's been on the whack for a while now, so I didn't try to take pics of any of the other incredible creations, but I did attempt to capture a few shots of my "Christmas Cookin'" table.

As usual, I didn't come up with a theme until the very last minute. (Remember, I said I was busy -- I know you sistas out there can relate.) I had thought about spray painting some pumpkings in metallic colors and doing something fall-y but finally decided to just go with some things I already had that wouldn't require more industriousness than I had time for.

I drug out my little kitchen Christmas tree and used a clear glass jar filled with cookie cutters as its holder and place it on a distressed country blue tray. I added a gingerbread man tea pot and a larger glass jar filled with more old cookie cutters to the tray and then filled in spaces with shiney red Christmas balls and more cookie cutters and velvety poinsettias.

I place my white plates on chargers on red, gold, and silver charges, and Dollar Tree provided terry cloth potholders in alternating colors -- country blue and red -- to hold a matching dishtowel "napkin" and flatware at each place. Cheap and cute! (I think that pretty much describes ME! LOL!)

Simple votives added some glow; some of the "votives"

I used were little old jars with stars on them that

I found for 15 cents a piece at a tiny thrift store in

Mississippi summer before last.

I wish the colors looked as vibrant in these pictures as
they really were, but considering that they came off my
phone camera . . . I'm just happy they turned out at all!

The little cards that you see at the bottom right hand

of the picture says "Christmas Cooking" and

"Taste and see that the Lord is good . . . " (Psalm 34:6a).

The "Muzslay" you see is an embroidered Christmas tea
towel that Middle Daughter gave me last year.

And those half-price leftover Halloween peanut-butter
M&Ms blended in perfectly with my Christmas colors!

I NEVAH decorate for Christmas until Thanksgiving has been celebrated, but this year . . . well, I'm feeling some more creative itching coming on . . .

I hope you are enjoying your upcoming holiday preparations and scratchin' your own itchins'!

Grins,

Pamm

2010-08-02T08:53:00.004-05:00

This little guy road to church with me Sunday morning!
(Okay, well, not exactly THIS specific little guy from the commercials, but one that was just as cute, to be sure.)

For real!

In fact, he preached a whole sermon to me before I ever got into the building! Yup. For real. (And never once tried to sell me an insurance policy, though I'm pretty sure I'd a'bought one from him.)

Truth is I've had a hard time making it to the church house lately -- what with my having the D-word and all -- but I'd decided Saturday night that I really needed to make it there yesterday if I could at all manage it. (I'm a BIG woman, and I sit on the second pew from the front, so for that reason alone -- okay, and I'm kinda loud -- people notice when I'm not there for more than a couple of weekends.)

St. Michael had already left so that he could get to the church house early enough to get his ushering duties on, so imagine my surprise when I discovered on my way out of the neighborhood in the Queen Machine that I wasn't making the drive alone. No! The tiniest, cutest little Gecko Guy was riding on the hood of the Queen Machine with me! Not out in the front, like one of those bare-breasted wooden ladies would be on an old ship, but further back, closer to the windshield, and somewhat more centered on the hood, kinda like a . . . well, a surfer, I guess.

To be honest I felt kinda bad for him 'cause I kept thinking that any minute he'd . . . well, wipe out like a surfer, but there really wasn't any appropriate place for me to pull over, pluck him off the hood, and then set him free (at least not without one of us running the risk of getting squished by the other non-surfing-gecko vehicles breezing by us).

Good luck, and hang ten, little buddy!

Thirty miles an hour. Forty miles an hour. Then fifty on Space Center Boulevard. And still, this little guy hung on like a champ. Now, granted, he did start out a bright, dazzling chartreuse gecko-green, and by the aforementioned fifty-mile-an-hour mark, he was turning a sort of strange sickly brown color, but, still, despite appearances, he was there, holding on for all he was worth! (Fortunately, by the time I turned off Space Center onto Middlebrook Drive, traffic was lighter because by now I couldn't take my eyes off this little dude -- I was cheering him on, and the road markings were strictly peripheral.)

As I slowed and turned into the church parking lot, he actually appeared to breathe a sigh of relief, and for the first time since I'd noticed him, his head actually dropped down onto his little front hand-thingies (heck, I don't know what they're called, but you know what I mean). He seemed to have collapsed in exhaustion. (And I know we both breathed a huge sigh of relief.) And yet, despite the odds, he was still there. Yes, a little worse for wear, but there, nonetheless.

Through no reason that he really understood, my little gecko guy's world had suddenly taken off and seemingly (to him, anyway) sped out of control -- certainly out of his control at least. And he had done the only thing he knew to do: He had held on. Held on until it slowed back down.

He didn't try to stop the car. (Totally beyond his paygrade.)

He didn't try to jump off. (Not an option when jumping off meant unceremoniously going splat.)

He didn't even try to run and hide. (The space where the wiper blades rest was nearby, but the wrong move would've surely jeopardized his balance and sent him flying.)

Nope. He just planted himself right where he was and clung to the one thing he knew to be solid. He simply did the only thing he could: He hung on. And waited for the craziness to stop.

Love it.

He was gone when I came out of church. I kinda missed him, but I was sure he'd made his way through the rows of parked cars to the more gecko-friendly grassy areas of the surrounding neighborhood. And I bet he's looking like his old self again. A bright, dazzling chartreuse gecko-green.

I think I'm finally 'bout there myself.

Love it.

Grins,
Pamm

Moving Back Home

2010-01-01T13:46:00.007-06:00

I'm moving. No, not house- or home-wise, but blog-wise.

As part of my effort to "get it right" in several areas of my life, I'm going back "home" to where I started in Blogland before I got side-tracked from what I do best. Y'see, as much as I looooooove decorating and nesting and crafting and turnin' trash to treasure, at heart, I'm just a writer. Not a photographer. Not a brilliant crafter or decorator who can give brilliant tutorials about what she crafts and decorates. Not an incredible table-scaper. But a writer. Just a writer who immensely enjoys everybody else's gifts in those areas and who will continue to stalk those blogs for inspiration, DIY ideas, and just the plain ol' pure pleasure of eye candy, but who, when I get real with myself, isn't truly called to blog in quite the same way my bloggin' sistahs do.

So, I guess in a way, I am moving home-wise. Blog-home-wise. I'm going home to my original blog, Texas Preacher Woman, where, for better or worse, you won't find many fancy photos, but simply "from the silly to the sanctified, the musings of one mom, wife [St. Michael's, to be specific!], and sistah-friend." At least for a while. And I hope you'll visit. I really do. It's the one door I'm totally comfortable with keeping flung wide open. Always.

Coffee's on. Come on over. Conversation welcome.

Grins and blessings!

Pamm

Fireplace or Entertainment Center?

2009-12-22T21:59:00.017-06:00

So is this mantle part of a fireplace or an entertainment center?

Well . . . here in Houston we don't have much need of a fireplace -- especially one that needed a lot of work done ($$$) before it could be safely used! For years our solution was to use the large opening for our TV. When we inherited a TV that was too large for the opening, though, St. Michael built a shelving unit for me that fits right under the mantle and uses the hearth for its base.

(And I have no idea what Baby Daughter was watching when I snapped this pic.)

The tree sitting on the mantle, to the left of Santa.

The mantle itself was plain ol' 4 x 4 piece of wood until I covered it with old, dis-mantled picture frames (sorry, I couldn't resist!), fitted together like a puzzle.

A little chair I found

at Salvation Army: $2.

The "Wise Men Still Seek Him" sign sitting on the chair came from Value Village a few years ago: $1.

The message: PRICELESS.

Christmas in the dining room

2009-12-04T12:53:00.018-06:00

This is looking into the dining room from our foyer. (Our front door is to the left of this pic, beside the plant stand. Our family room is to the right.) My table and buffet were given to me by a friend who moved into a huge new house and wanted all new furniture to go in it. (Yea for her, yea for me!) It was white, but the paint was flaking off somethin' fierce. (Not cute chippy, just flakey!) St. Michael spent part of October and November sanding it all down (including the six chairs) and completely stripping the top of the table and buffet. He then stained the tops of the table and buffet for me and then painted all of the chairs black. I painted the "body" of the buffet and the "apron" of the table white, "speckled" both pieces with black and golden khaki (to match a piece I already had) and then painted the legs of the table black and added a few black accents to the buffet. Such a difference! I love them! (And they all look great on my room-size rug that I snagged at a garage sale last summer for $50!)

A little closer still . . . Sorry for the poor quality of the photo -- I'm still working on those skills. Wish you could be here in person to see for yourself. (The closers are really much richer all the way around.)

Top of the buffet with St. Michael's mom's silver tray and an assortment of garage sale goodies. (The pear print came from Dollar Tree, and I simply put it in a big ol' frame I already had. It's perfect for this room. Love me some Dollar Tree!)

Nestled under the buffet tree is our first nativity set. We got it after Christmas more than twenty-five years ago from a Sears hardware store for $5.

A friend of mine said that judging from the size of that baby, compared to his mama, truly his birth WAS a miracle!

Reflections from the antique mirror we inherited from St. Michael's childhood best friend. (Middle Daughter from over at Sugar and Spice made the gold hanging ball out of styrofoam, beans, and gold spray paint when she was in intermediate school, and it hangs out somewhere every Christmas.)

My "hutch" used to be in my girls' rooms. The same paint treatment turns a room full of odds-and-ends furniture a sweet blended family!

A close-up of my garage-sale-, gift-, and Tuesday-morning-filled hutch. The little sign by the "clearance" rooster lamp is a recent birthday gift from my sweet sistah-friend, Bev. It reads, "Jesus * coffee * Joy" . . . how perfect is that!

Hopefully, I'll have some better pics to post next week (if I have time to practice on my photo-taking skills). Meanwhile, I hope ya'll are having fun out there in Blogland and enjoying the preparations of the season!

Happy Saturday, Sistahs!

Joining Marty's Christmas "Cloche" Party!

2009-12-03T22:20:00.011-06:00

I'm stayin' in the bloggin' groove by joining Marty at her Christmas Cloche Party! Rush over there, and check out all of the gorgeous-ness under glass! Here are the ones scattered around Casa St. Michael . . .

Okay, so I don't actually have REAL cloches, but I like to pretend that this is a real, mini-cloche. I found it in a little antique shop on the way home from Austin a few weeks ago. It's sitting on my favorite cake stand -- a birthday gift from my sistah-friend, Debbie, a few years ago. (And speaking of real, in real life, the little Dollar Tree Santa salt and pepper shakers don't look blurry and distorted like they do in these pics!)

Yes, I know this is really a cake plate and cover . . . but a girl can make-believe, right?

And last, but not least, a cheese "cover" pretending to be a cloche! (Another bargain on the way home from the Austin trip.) I have it sitting on a garage sale "Dreaming of a White Christmas" plate that's sitting on top of another garage sale toile-patterned plate. And I got the height I needed in the center of the table by stacking it all on a white vegetable bowl turned over!

Starting to Look Like Christmas!

2009-12-01T21:43:00.028-06:00

I'm celebrating Show and Tell Friday today with Cindy (unquestionably the ultimate goddess of romantic homes), so after you've checked out my dollar-sense "Fruit of the Spirit" Christmas tree that welcomes family and friends into the foyer here at Casa St. Michael this season, run on over to My Romantic Home and check out what everyone else in Bloggerland is showing and telling today! Enjoy!

vdf

"But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control"

(Galatians 5:22-23a).

fgdfd

I quit putting up a big tree a couple of years ago and, instead, now I put little trees throughout the house. Here's a close up of this year's foyer tree. It's full of "sugared" fruit that I've found at thrift stores and garage sales, and miniature gold-framed fruit that I painted. (Found the lusciously chunky mini-frames years ago at a dollar store. Loved 'em then, love 'em now!) Add some Sam's Club ribbon to the mix, cover the bottom of the tree and the stand with left-over fabric from the dining room chair seats, and it's ready to go!

fds

I got this gorgeous nativity set at a Christmas party several years ago. We did the gift exchange that involves "stealing" one another's gifts, and everybody was trying to take this beauty home, but look who won out! (We had a ten-dollar limit on the Christmas decorations we could bring to exchange, and the lady who brought this had purchased each piece at Dollar Tree! She had picked through lots of figures until she found the "perfect" ones, and they are so beautiful in person.) The little gold-framed cross-stiched picture behind the right side of the nativity set came from Value Village for, I think, $1.80, and reads, "Love came at Christmas." How perfectly simple and true!

Later today, when I get back to my own computer, I'll post a close up of the antique $1 garage-sale shelf behind the tree and take you on in to the dining room . . . ahhhh, I love Christmas decorating with all of my "found" treasures! So much fun!

My Li'l Punkin!

2009-10-31T10:34:00.002-05:00

Another sign of a Happy Fall!

Gorgeous Give-Away!

2009-10-14T14:15:00.004-05:00

Isn't this bracelet absolutely gorgeous! It was designed and made by Gwendolyn (a bonafide jewelry artist as far as I'm concerned) over at "A Charming Home," and she's giving it away to one lucky reader in honor of Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Rush over and check it out

(http://acharminghome.blogspot.com/).

Feelin' Some Fall!

2009-10-11T20:10:00.009-05:00

BOO! And WOO-HOO!

This second weekend in October brought the Houston Bay Area temperatures in the 70s, and for us here, that's FALL YA'LL! Other signs of the season . . .

. . . adorable fall-y votives from Dollar Tree that leaf

me smiling every time I walk past them . . .

. . . a cake plate filled with an assortment of

round fall-ish things (including a few little

pumpkins that aren't visible from this angle) . . .

. . . pumpkin cookie cutters and fall-colored

"berries" mixing it up with the

cinnamon-and-gingerbread-men

potpourri-filled jar and roosters perched

on the kitchen window sill . . .

. . . and Baby Daughter sweater-ed up and snuggling

with a University of Texas tee-shirted Tessie!

Enjoying while it lasts,

Pamm

"Dancin' as fast as I can!"

2009-10-05T07:16:00.003-05:00

If you've read any of my blog -- even just my profile on the right -- you know that I am St. Michael's Wife. But what about that TWO-STEPPIN' thing? What the heck is that all about. Well, I've been explainin' some of it bit by bit over the past week, so here's a little more about that . . .

For years I’ve used the phrase “I’m dancing as fast as I can” to explain what my life looks like at any given time. Mine is a life spent, for the most part, running “ninety to nothin’” with my hair on fire, while juggling gasoline cans. (And, yep, that means that, for better or worse, there are times I crash and burn, for sure!) It seems to be the life I’m called to, and yet, I keep suspecting that I could probably slow down to at least sixty miles an hour if I just were a little bit more organized on the home front. And maybe, just maybe, if Casa St. Michael were a bit tidier better organized (okay, a LOT tidier and tons more organized!), I wouldn’t stumble as much and drop as many gas can either. What’s the answer? Why, the TEXAS TWO-STEP, of course!

Y’see, the Texas Two-Step is a dance that calls for one to slow down, take on a partner, snuggle in close, and then follow a specific pattern of steps as the partner leads. Even a brand new Two-Stepper is encouraged to avoid looking down at her own feet but, instead, to trust her partner, moving her own feet in step with his, at his lead. Before she knows it, she is no longer stumbling and struggling, but she is gliding across the floor, no longer inhibited by, but enthralled with, the dance!

I decided that that’s what I wanted my life to look like. I wanted to slow down, partner-up with an incredible lead dancer, and glide in such a graceful way that the

whole thing looks effortless. (I say looks effortless because we all know that even the most fluid of dancers has spent time training, practicing, and, more than likely, healing from a few awkward moves and even some falls.) Thus, yours truly and the TEXAS TWO-STEP.

Tomorrow . . . The "More" that I promised about Step 1: Learning to plan for success!

Until then,

Grins!

Pamm

Sunday Sermon: It ain't just about the sink!

2009-10-03T21:19:00.004-05:00

Last post, I told you I'd start telling you a little about the TEXAS TWO-STEP part of St. Michael's Wife and the TEXAS TWO-STEP. And I will. Over the next several posts. But since I started going at this kinda backwards -- beginning with that last post on filing -- I figured you wouldn't be shocked if I continue to do things a little outta order. So today, I'm just gonna give ya the most basic idea of what TWO-STEPPIN' is all about, and then I'm just gonna jump right into something we TWO-STEPPERS talked about last week when we met.

First of all, in its simplest form, St. Michael's Wife and the TEXAS TWO-STEP is a Bible study and support system for women who feel overwhelmed by the clutter and chaos at home but who've, up until now, felt helpless to do anything about it. We’re a praying, learning, trying, and doing-it group! Together we’re learnin' to Two-Step our homes, and, as a result, a huge part of our lives, back into order.

STEP 1 in the "dance" is Learning to plan for our success. (I know that sounds simple, but there's more to it than you think, so I'll explain this is more detail later this week.) And STEP 2 is Learning to celebrate our success. (Believe it or not, this is a bigger deal than you might think! So more on that this week, too.)

A huge part of our time together is spent in Bible study -- examining God's word to see how He has spoken into the lives of others and how He might be speaking to us right now in our lives. Right now, our TWO-STEP group is "dancing" through Nehemiah, one of my favorite Old Testament books. We're seeing Nehemiah's rebuilding of Jerusalem's wall as a metaphor for rebuilding our homes. Here's a tiny part of last week's look into chapter 6.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[Background: Nehemiah has been leading the men of Israel in rebuilding the walls of the city amidst the criticism and opposition of Israel's surrounding enemies. In chapter 6, verses 1-3, we see Nehemiah's response to those enemies who attempt to pull him away from the task he's been called to complete.]

Nehemiah 6:1-3 (English Standard Version).

1 Now when Sanballat and Tobiah and Geshem the Arab and the rest of our enemies heard that I had built the wall and that there was no breach left in it (although up to that time I had not set up the doors in the gates), 2 Sanballat and Geshem sent to me, saying, “Come and let us meet together at Hakkephirim in the plain of Ono.” But they intended to do me harm. 3 And I sent messengers to them, saying, “I am doing a great work and I cannot come down. Why should the work stop while I leave it to come down to you?”

Verse 3 is probably my favorite verse in all of Nehemiah, maybe because I am so easily distracted or perhaps because it came to me during a time in my life when I so needed the admonishment to stay focused. Nehemiah’s words spoke mightily to me during a time when I needed to be reminded by Papa-God that the season He had brought me to was truly by His design and, therefore, a time of “great work.” Regardless of what it looked like to anyone else, I was smack-dab-in-the-middle of His will and His work, and I needed to stay the course. I needed to put blinders on to anything that might pull me out of my lane and disqualify me from the race. It meant learning to say no to some of the things to which I was so used to saying yes. But I learned that sometimes I had to say no to good things in order to say yes to the best things.

I also had to learn to value my place in the garden. Wherever I was planted, I had to bloom. In the shade. In the sun. In the front. In the back. To the left. To the right. W H E R E V E R .

I had to learn to play to an audience of One. (I don’t know who originally coined that phrase, but it so resonates with me.) For one who, by nature, loves the applause of all, that’s a tough lesson. But it meant the difference between pleasing man and pleasing Papa. (And I’ve always heard that if you have to pick one, you should pick Papa ‘cause He remembers longer!)

Playing to an audience of One means learning Whose opinion really matters, Who I really want to please, Who I really want to serve . . . and it’s a lesson that I’m ashamed to say I have relearn again and again. But when I get it right . . . what a glorious performance it is!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As I said, that's just a tiny excerpt from our study, but maybe it will give you an idea of what we're doing . . . in between shinin' our sinks and filin' and flingin'!

To be continued . . .

Grins!

Pamm

Steppin' and Filin'!

2009-10-01T12:47:00.008-05:00

As some of you know, St Michael's Wife and the TEXAS TWO-STEP group began meeting September 15 here in the Houston Bay Area, and as we enter week three, we are having more fun than most folks would believe is legal! And inside the church-house, would ya believe it! ('Course a lot of the grins and guffaws are also happening outside the church-house, like through some of the most hilarious E-mails you've ever read that weren't actually meant to be jokes but just musings on the daily-ness of life as organizationally challenged women!)

I haven't actually blogged much about it here, but perhaps I will later. (Right now, I'm staying pretty busy just writing the material, showing up to lead it, and actually doing what I'm encouraging everybody else to do at home, too! Plus . . . yeah, I still have that full-time job thing . . . )

At any rate, I AM going to share a little bit today because maybe this particular combination of organizational helps might work for you like I hope it's going to work for me. (Hey, we're all guinea pigs in this Two-Stepping thing -- 'cause we know what hasn't worked for us in the past, and so we're all about experimenting with and exploring what we can do that might actually work for us this time.)

I'm probably doing this all backwards (in fact, I'm sure I am), but I'm going to share my latest organizational epiphany today and then share more about what actual TWO-STEPPIN' is tomorrow.

NOTE: This is a long, kind of "How to . . . " epistle, so read at your leisure . . . or not! (One of our TWO-STEPPIN' biggies is to find what works for YOU!" And if you're one of those Born Organized women that FlyLady talks about, then you' just wonder why in the world I needed so many folders and stuff . . . you can probably skip everything!)

Here's what I sent to my sistas of the dance this morning . . .

I HAVE TO TELL YOU -- Oops! Didn't mean to seem like I was hollerin' at'cha! -- that ever since Lora [my co-leader]talked about that filing system the other night, that's all I've been able to think about! (Well, that and S-mores! XOXO!s to MagB! Of course, now I want to try making them with DARK chocolate -- my fave!) [Sorry, ya had to be there!] I had a meeting at the church-house last night, but as soon as it was over, off I went in search of some kind of file system . . . (There's a pic toward the end of what I ended up with.)

[NOTE: Lora was talking about a daily/monthly type of "tickle" file system written about by David Allen in his book, Getting Things Done. I haven't read the book, I just listened to my sweet friend explain this one thing that worked for her.]

Well, regarding putting one together for myself, first of all, you know me, it had to be cute. (Cuteness inspires me! I know, I know, it's a character flaw, but I'm trying to let it work FOR me.)

Second, it had to be inexpensive. (Kimberly's right -- we should "test run" something first to make sure this is something that's gonna work for us before we invest too much.)

And third, it had to be user-friendly! (Hey, I learned back when I was dating that cuteness and cheapness ain't EVERYTHING.) If something's not easy to use -- meaning easy to get to, easy to manipulate, keep in order, etc. -- I don't end up using it.

If this works, I may go to something a little more sophisticated later (or not), but what I came up with now looks like a winner for me. I bought my (cute) tabbed "daily" folders and labeled them 1 - 31, so I'd have one for each day of the month. (Yes, I know that February only has 28 or 29 and others only 30, but work with me here, people. I'm trying to be prepared for all possibilities here.)

Then (and this is where I ended up being a little different just 'cause I couldn't find anything else that I thought suited my needs as well), instead of using an expandable folder system-thingie with 12 pockets (one for each month), I bought 12 heavy-duty, pocketed portfolio folders (in three different colors just 'cause, plus I can quickly recognize a month by its color -- for me, green, yellow, or red), and then labeled them, one for each month. (And, yes, I know I have my dates on the daily dated folders all going the wrong direction. Would you believe me if I told you I did it on purpose that way but have no idea why? Yes, you would. What you wouldn't believe is if I tried to tell you that I did it on purpose just so you wouldn't think I'm perfect . . . Lol!)

My 31 daily folders sit in front of my 12 monthly portfolios (with the current month being at the front of the portfolios and the others, in order, behind it). When each day is over, the daily folder should be empty because I took care of whatever was in it. (Anything that didn't get done or that needs more follow-up will get moved to the next day's folder or to the appropriate dated folder.) I will then move the empty folder to the very back of my daily folders, so that at the beginning of next month, they're in order, ready to go again.

The current monthly portfolio will be empty because anything in it will have been moved to the appropriate daily folder. When things come up that need to be handled in an up-coming month, I will pull that monthly portfolio and drop the item in one of the portfolio pockets, where it will be there waiting for me when that month arrives.

At the beginning of a new month, I'll transfer any documents, notes, to-do items from that month's portfolio into the appropriate dated daily folder, ready to be taken care of at just the right moment! (I'm like DJ in this area -- I jus' loves me some colored folders!)

Now, here's another thought . . . FlyLady recommends that when we get our Morning Routines and my Evening Routines (and whatever others we need) to the point where they are written on paper, we put them inside of a plastic page protector inside of our control journal. She uses a dry- (or wet-) erase marker to then mark through each item as she completes her routine. Each evening she wipes off the marks, and the page is ready to go again the next day. (Think how many trees are being saved!) Well, what if I put my "Routine" pages in my daily folder systen instead of in the big Control Journal? [If you're not familiar with FlyLady, she tells her followers how to get organized using what she calls a "Control Journal," a binder where all of your routines, menus, to-do lists, emergency contacts, inspirational material, etc. is housed.)

Of course, this is FlyLady's best-known book, Sink Reflections. The thing that is so awesome about flyLady is that she makes everything in the book available to you on her website FREE OF CHARGE! (She just asks that you not post all of her info on your own website without her expressed written consent.) NOTE: TEXAS TWO-STEPPERS use much of FlyLady's wisdom and instruction for inspiration, but we are customizing and adjusting to meet our own individual needs and time frame as we go .

For some reason, I just don't like dragging out a big binder every day, having to snap it open, get out just the right stuff, snap it closed, put the binder away . . . well, you get the idea. (And, yes, I would feel like I had to put it away 'cause, otherwise, it might start my hotspot to smoldering all over again. Maybe keeping your binder/Control Journal out on the counter isn't a biggie for you -- maybe you even have a bookshelf in your kitchen/office area that you keep it on, so that it works for you without a problem. I don't. I keep mine in a drawer in the kitchen, and so, trust me, if it's out, it's gonna start smokin' . . . and we all know what that leads to: S'mores! And before I know it, I WILL be 300 pounds -- not just approaching it!) I think grabbing my daily folder, where any other papers I need that day are also waiting, will work much better for me (and maybe you, too! Let me hasten to say that I WILL use my Control Journal for my master lists of things, my Bible study, Emergency Contact Numbers, etc. -- just not for my every-day to-dos).

Whew! That's a lot of reading, I know, girlfriends, but I think very worthwhile -- at least for me -- 'cause I think this could be a big breakthrough as far as Step 1 -- "Learning to plan for success" -- goes. Yea! [Yeha, that's Step 1 as in TEXAS TWO-STEPPERS.]

Oh, and in case you're wondering, I put my folders and my portfolios in a little antique sewing machine cabinet drawer I found a while back at a garage sale for 50 cents. (I had to clean it up, and I'll probably paint it another color later, although I know how much Donna loves this orangey color. Also in this pic, the little pumpkin/squash thingie sitting inside the white 50-cent-garage-sale pitcher is for you, DJ, who loves all things fall-ish, and that little hen salt shaker is for you, again, Donna, since I know how you love roosters and chicken stuff!) [Donna-Lu HATES chickens and roosters and most all fall colors, as well.]

Eager to hear your feedback!

XO! Pamm

Oh! And, Bloggin' Sistas, my comment thingie is at the TOP of my posts, not at the bottom where I wish it was! ;D

Sunday Sermon: It sho' 'nuff ain't up to ME

2009-09-27T08:03:00.001-05:00

I’m convinced that one of the worst things we can do to ourselves (and to the Kingdom when you stop and think about it) is to allow ourselves to become convinced that “it’s all up to us.” The moment that happens, not only do we take on a huge weight that we were never intended to bear, but we stop depending on God. Yup. You heard me. We stop depending on God. I know that sounds harsh -- I mean, we wouldn’t try to put Papa-God out of a job intentionally, would we? -- but the moment we think it’s all up to us, we have just said -- wittingly or unwittingly -- that He’s no longer in charge or in control; we are. And trust me, I’ve been taken charge of enough things to know that spells disaster! Either I totally screw things up, or I do nothing at all ‘cause I’m paralyzed with fear that I’ll screw things up! (And, of course, knowing me, I will!) That’s how we act if we think it’s all depending on us.

Does that mean we stop caring about what’s going on around us and just sit back, pretend we’re Doris Day, and sing “Que sera, sera”?

No, not at all. (Or as brotha Paul would say, “May it never be!) But our job is definitely not being in control (‘cause family, it sho’ ‘nuff ain’t up to us). Our calling is to be obedient. (And, yeah, some days, I’d much rather be “in charge” than be obedient . . . I mean, let somebody else do the hard stuff, right?) We are called to listen for His voice, and then do what He tells us and empowers us (don’t forget that part) to do. That’s it. We get to leave the results to Him. Because we live with, love with, and serve a risen, He’s-alive! Savior, we know that we can leave “the driving to [Him],” and he’ll get us there, safely and right on time [wink, wink, Sonya and Mike!]. The hard part is that sometimes the scenery along the way doesn’t look like we think it should; heck, we might even think we’re totally going the wrong way (not to mention, not fast enough!), but we can trust Him. We must trust Him. He’s not only the Driver, He’s the Guide, -- only He knows for sure the direction in which we must go.

When we truly understand that Big Truth and aren’t afraid to walk in that truth, then we can speak the words He calls us to speak, do what He calls us to do, and leave the results up to Him.

Whew! I don’t know about you, but what a relief! I’m tired enough sometimes just doing the stuff I should be doing -- I sure don’t need to be doin’ my job and Papa God’s, too!

And you don’t either. We serve a living God. Let’s let Him live through us and do the work of the Kingdom through us.

Pamm

Not my usual post . . .

2009-09-25T11:47:00.009-05:00

Not my usual post, but I have to spill my guts to someone or . . . I don't know, maybe I'll cry in front of my third period "scientific reading" kids and freak them out or something . . . since I don't want to do that, you, my sistas in Blogland are it.

I got my heart broken this morning. Like the kind of broken where you feel like you can't breathe or , as Sandra Cisneros writes in a short story my kids read every year, you "can't stop the little animal noises from coming out of [you]."

It all started because he wanted to lay his head down on his desk and sleep through advisory.

"Are you tired, sweetie?" (They're all my "sweety"s and "honey"s and "baby"s.) This particular one looks pretty awful this morning. Red-rimmed, hollow, dark-circled big brown eyes in a small, pale eleven-year-old face that looks vaguely like someone else who semi-regularly plays haunting games in my head.

"Yeah, I didn't sleep very well last night."

"How come?"

"Well, I got in big trouble at home last night." He steps closer and leans in to me. He lowers his already tiny voice, "I don't want anyone else to hear this."

My eyes never leave his, but with my left hand I send an "in-a-minute" wave toward another student approaching my desk and then nod for the one of immediate concern to continue.

He'd been rough-housing with his sister outside, and in and amongst all of the sixth-grade-boy details, I manage to gather that he wasn't supposed to have been outside. I think he made his sister cry -- accidentally stepped on her hand or something -- and his mom had yelled alot at him. Normal stuff, huh? But then I do my usual mudging and digging . . . (I mean, all kids get yelled at once in a while and don't usually lose too much sleep over it, so there's gotta be more to the story, right?) And he tells me the "more." And I focus hard on listening and being the grownup who doesn't cry. Who doesn't looked shocked. Who in her head doesn't say Jaja words about the woman I don't remember meeting (but who, he says, came to Open House a couple of weeks back.) But, mostly, who doesn't cry . . . doesn't cry . . . doesn't cry. And I work hard at keeping my breaths going in and out, in and out . . . steadily . . . evenly.

This baby, to relieve his own stress, had gotten into the shower after the Big Yelling; had run the water for a long time. But it didn't wash away the yuck. Mom came into the bathroom, turned off the water, and grabbed him by his hair and slammed his head into the shower wall. Hit and slapped at him until he curled up in to a ball against the tiles. "If you want to pick on someone, try picking on me, not your sister. Yeah, try it with me!"

Did I mention how little this kid is?

Then came the bad part.

He didn't sleep well because he'd then been forced to spend the rest of the night outside.

No dinner. Just the pill for his ADHD and some clothes thrown at him. No breakfast this morning.

He explains almost apologetically that it was hard to sleep because of the mosquitoes (we live on the Texas Gulf coast and have just had two days of rain) "and my dog kept breathing in my face . . . " and that the swing on the porch wasn't that comfortable, "but it does have some cushions . . . "

I take this baby out into the hall, away from other kids, so I can do a quick check for bruises. I only see one on the exposed shoulder, the side that wasn't against the tiles. I get as much information as I can before he says, "I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"Okay. Let's go back in the room, and you can rest on the couch until the bell rings."

But now I can't rest.

I talk to my counselor friend in the front office, and the digging for additional info begins. I don't know the details yet, but my friend is finding from other sources that there have been questions asked about this family in the past. She is checking with the neighboring school district where all of the children in the family attended school last year. She and others are working at putting fragments of information together to better give us a clearer understanding of what's going on.

Meanwhile, the thing I dread has to be done. I have to file a report with Child Protective Services.

It's not like I haven't done this before. I have. (It comes with the pastor - teacher territory.) But this time it's different. This kid isn't living in a known crack house. This kid's mom isn't, from all outer appearances, an obviously mentally ill person. This kid's not a teenager with older siblings who can step in to protect and intervene. No. This is a little kid whose family attends church, whose mom sends I'm-a-very-involved-parent E-mails to teachers; a little kid who will probably be placed in a he-said-she-said situation against his mom -- a situation which, knowing the system as I do, could conceivably have a pretty lousy outcome for this little guy.

Okay, I know you're wondering Pamm, how do you even know that what the kid said is true? It's okay, my counselor friend asked them same thing. But I know he's telling the truth. I know. I do. I saw it in his eyes. I heard it in the ever-so-slight stutter as he struggled to maintain his composure and yet continue his story. It's true. I wish it weren't, but it is. And now my counselor friend knows it too. She talked to him, and now I see it in her eyes. She knows too. She does.

So I will file my report. And I will pray for this sweet boy child to be safe this weekend. Safe until I see him again on Monday morning. Hopefully better rested.

Pamm

Just a few shots . . .

2009-09-22T13:04:00.007-05:00

Here are a couple of pics I snapped last night . . . more to come as time allows!

Here's a shot almost identical to my last posting except

this one shows the simple curtain I made for over the

window. (VERY simple!) I used my "old" Battenberg

lace curtain for a "slip" of lace underneath a simple

panel of the same fabric I have in the breakfast room.

Just needed a little spot of color here, and this does the

trick. I loooooove walking into my kitchen now!

A close-up of that counter area. The thrift store Johnson

Bros. platter and the bunny tin hides the plug-in and cords

from the microwave and toaster oven. (And to the far left

is probably the last watermelon of the season, waiting to

be cut open and enjoyed!)

These critters and jar of potpourri sit on my window sill.

This is a corner of my stovetop. The flour

"canister" came from a garage sale, as did

the wooden spindle candle holder. The rooster

salt and pepper shakers had been packed away

and I'd forgotten I even had them! They are

perfect in my kitchen now! (And bring back

good memories since one of my sweet girls gave

them to me!)

I'm just came home real quick on my conference period, so it's back to work for me and then off to meet my TEXAS TWO-STEP women tonight at 7:00 at the church house! Woo-hoo!

Have a fabulous day wherever YOU are!

Grins!

Pamm

PS I'd love to hear from you sweet bloggin' sistas -- remember my comment thingie is at the top of my posts. (I told ya I can't figure out how to fix that!)

A Sneak Peak!

2009-09-21T07:49:00.006-05:00

Okay, I didn't get to snapping any more pics of the "new" kitchen this weekend -- too busy writing, teaching, or "takin' care o' bidness" . . . (Okay, I DID watch the end of the Texans - Titans game -- Woo-hoo! How 'bout those TEXANS! Now THAT's football!) But, here's a sneak peak to pique your interest until I can do some snappin' later this week . . . (I know, with me it's always "later next week!" Such is life going ninety-to-nothin' with my hair on fire!)

I did finish painting out the window on Saturday, and I made a simple (VERY!), little curtain this weekend, but in this pic you'll just have to imagine it. Be sure to click on the photo to see the details of St. Michael's countertop tiling . . . I am loving it!

I'll have to see if I can find some before pics, but the bottom

cabinets were dark chocolate brown, the upper ones white,

and the cabinet with the oven was a sagey green. And the

countertops were 45-year-old laminate, along with the original

awful old sink and fixtures. (Hey, they did serve their

purpose, and the color scheme worked at the time with what

I had, but it was never my dream kitchen like it is now! )

Grins!

Pamm

Tabletop Blessings!

2009-09-17T18:44:00.008-05:00

I know, I know, I've been a baaaaaaad blogger lately, which is to say that I haven't been blogging at all! But I've been working on other projects like painting my kitchen and writing the material for the TEXAS TWO-STEPPING Bible study. (Almost every woman there said she was wondering how in the world we were going to connect Bible study and digging our way out from beneath the clutter and chaos we've allowed to invade our homes, but we DID it! And it was AWESOME! We're studying the Old Testament book of Nehemiah, and we're using his rebuilding of Jerusalem's walls as a metaphor for rebuilding and healing our homes.)

I still have to paint around the window above the sink, and behind and around the fridge, and make a simple curtain for the window, but we've come soooooo far! Woo-hoo! And I can't tell you how much I am looooooooving my kitchen -- especially my countertop/labor of love from St. Michael.

I'll post pics of the kitchen later this weekend, but for now, I'm just showing a few snapshots of our breakfast room. My sweet, special friend Denise, who has her own blog, Bloomin' (go check her out) saw these perfect-for-Casa-St.-Michael placemats while on vacation this summer and decided to bless me with them. (She's just like that!) The chair back "accents" are adorable dish towels she also bought for me to use as napkins or "however you want to." So I decided to use them this way! I wanted to be able to see those cute red roosters bordering them, so I literally tied one on! (Okay, I tied them to the chairs with some jute twine and tiny black plaid ribbon. Hey, it's what I had on hand!) Ultra simple, but, I think, ultra cute. And now, I can enjoy them every day! (And not worry about their getting gravy or ketchup stains on them -- : D .) Anyone can also easily do this with similar size strips of fabric for a different look with each season.

(Remember, you should be able to click

on the pics to make them larger.)

The picture is a little dark, but the

braided rug beneath the table is red.

(Tessie just had to get into the picture!)

I know, I know, this pic's dark, too, but

you can at least get the idea of how simple

this little project really is. (And again,

Tessie, is becoming quite the camera hog!)

Don't these placemats just look great on my table!

I told Denise that they make me think of her

and smile each time I look at them.

Have a fabulous Friday! (They're ALL fabulous as far as I'm concerned!)

Grins and blessings!

Pamm

I'd love to hear from you! (My COMMENTS thingie is at the top of my posts. I know, I know, I've tried to make it go back down to the bottom where it should be, but it won't go!)

Michael-the-Pirate goes to school!

2009-09-03T21:34:00.003-05:00

Middle Daughter has the most adorable blog that keeps us all posted on the what's happening on the Other Side of Houston, whether it's Grandson-Michael-the-Pirate attacking his fair maiden sister Callie-Belle with his Crayola marker sword, or a sewing or decorating project or even just random Middle Daughter thoughts. Today's post made me realize that time is flying by . . . it seems like just yesterday that I was rocking this sweet baby boy to sleep on my ample Jaja- bosom his first night home from the hospital. (And Saturday he'll be three!)

Happy First Day of School, Michael!

This morning, Middle Daughter dropped Michael off at preschool for his first day as a Red Bear! Waiting for him at school were his two new teachers, Ms. Wendy and Ms. Elisa and 11 new friends to play.

He was really excited to wear his new 'fast shoes' today!

He was eager to get to school this morning, so he could tell his teachers about the birthday party he is having this weekend, eat the lunch he helped his mama put together, and sleep on his super cool Cars nap mat she made for him.

The opening activity this morning for the Red Bears was cutting shapes out of red play dough. Michael even got to grab a seat at the same table as Jacob, his friend from last year!

Middle Daughter said he wasn't so talkative when she dropped him off this morning, but he did get right into the activity that his teachers had out for him. She was looking forward to his perking up and then telling her this afternoon all about the fun things he did and all the friends he made.

Awwww, I wish I could've been there! But, alas, I was helping my sixth-grade babies adjust to their second week at their new school.

I'll have to call Middle Daughter in the morning from the airport to find out how it went. (St. Michael and I are heading off to Seattle for our nephew's wedding! We'll celebrate Michael-the-Pirate's birthday when we get back.)

Grins!

Pamm

Sunday Sermon: Pirate attacks and practical truths

2009-08-29T19:25:00.007-05:00

When one is running ninety-to-nothin' with one's hair on fire, one does not stop to blog.

Such has been my life lately.

St. Michael's been tiling the kitchen counters; I've been painting cabinets, cleaning out cabinets and drawers, and also trying to get back in the groove at the local intermediate school . . . Going to meetings. Buying new books. Going to meetings. Unpacking old books. Going to meetings. Unpacking files and miscellaneous papers. Going to more meetings. Rearranging classroom desks, tables, and chairs. Going to even more meetings. Creating lesson plans. And then finally flinging open the door to Room 105, The Land of Muz (where I am Queen), to greet my new babies!

Don't tell anyone I said this (I always say I hate kids), but few things are more exciting to me than starting a new school year and watching a brand new crop of sixth-graders invade the halls of the intermediate school. (And my kids this year are absolutely adorable!)

Still, it's tough. Juggling the first few weeks of school while finishing up a kitchen remodel (even a relatively minor one) . . . preparing for and teaching a weekend Bible study . . . planning and writing material for the upcoming St. Michael's Wife and the Texas Two-Step class . . . and just trying to do life in general -- whew! (And I know that I'm not by any stretch the Lone Ranger. Lots' of you can identify; in fact, most women are big-time jugglers just because of we ARE women, and that's what we do.)

Anyway, I realized when I looked at my last blog entry on dealing with difficult people that I really should have included some of the practical steps that went along with that particular "Sunday Sermon." So, bloggin' sistas, here they are . . . just in case ya need 'em. (And I'm gettin' back in the groove, so I will be back to bloggin' more often -- even if nobody else reads a word of it!)

Practical Truths to Hang Onto

When Dealing With Difficult People

Official Visual Aid: Often difficult people come in the form of family members. A big brother who thinks he is a pirate with a magic marker sword would qualify.

Callie, the Pirate Victim. (A difficult person might also be a mom who takes your picture when you've been attacked by a pirate AND are having a bad hair day.)

Okay, now . . . once again,

Practical Truths to Hang Onto
When Dealing With Difficult People

Understand that love is not a feeling. It is a conscious choice and action. The warm fuzzy feeling that accompanies liking someone may never come. And yet, we can choose -- without the warm fuzzy feelings -- to act in someone else's best interest. That's what love does.

Recognize that while it is a fact that someone has certain feelings (even we, ourselves), feelings, in and of themselves, are not facts. Therefore, learn to walk in truth, to walk by faith, according to the facts. For example, I may feel stung by a friend's careless comment, but more than likely, if I think about the fact of the situation, I have to admit that my friend would never intentionally hurt me. She simply wasn't thinking when she spoke. I then have a choice to make: I can 1) react out of my hurt and either become sullen and withdrawn or lash out and possibly say something I shouldn't say either; or 2) I can forgive my friend -- after all, I, too, have been known to say a few dumb things, myself -- and move on. To nurse an unintentional slight doesn't do me or my sista-friend any good.

Dealing with difficult people in a Christ-like way is not always easy. In fact, in our humanness, it’s downright impossible! So recognize from the start that you must allow God to work through you, supernaturally. As an act of your will, give the relationship to Him, trusting Him to work all things together for your good (Romans 8:28). And for the record, you do realize what that good is, don't you? If we read on to Romans 8:29, we see that God's definition of good is whatever contributes to making us look more like His Son. (Yeah, I know, my definition of good doesn't always match up with His, either.)

Never “hit the streets” without your bullet-proof vest. In other words, just as a police officer's job is to "keep the peace, to serve and to protect," she knows that no everyone is going to appreciate her mission. Therefore, she doesn't go to the streets unprotected or without the necessary weapon. And neither should we! We need to cover our concerns and challenges in prayer, and we need to be armed with every spiritual weapon at our disposal (Ephesians 6:10-18). To enter what could be a battlefield in any other way, is to step out naked and unarmed. Not a pretty sight! And not very safe either. So, don't let fear keep you from loving someone the way God has called you to, but love intelligently and “preparedly,” not foolishly and blindly.

Try gentle confrontation, but be prepared to accept the things you cannot change and to change the things you can -- yourself and your own attitude. (Ouch!)

Abandon your expectations. Often, difficult people are not able to give you what you want or need from them. Ever.

“Some people are unable or unwilling to change

the way they deal with you. Peace comes when

we truly accept that our actions or words cannot

change difficult people” (Clair Bradshaw).

Realize that, often, the difficulties these people cause actually have nothing to do with you, anyway, but have more to do with themselves.

Give your pain a voice. Find a godly sounding board, and let the pain out. Listen to wise counsel.

Look past the anger, and examine your deeper emotions. What is it about this person that affects you the way he or she does?

Pray for a willing heart -- willing to overlook, willing to forgive, willing to heal, willing to love.

Grins and blessings until next time!

Pamm

Sunday Sermon: "Dealing With Difficult People"

2009-08-15T22:25:00.006-05:00

Someone once said, “Being in ministry is great . . . if only I didn’t have to deal with people!” (Sounds pretty close to my own, “I love teaching -- it’s the darn kids that drive me crazy!”)

I get that, and I bet you do, too.

Some people are just harder to deal with, aren’t they? And even those folks we normally find charming often have idiosyncrasies that just plain get on our last nerves at times. (Believe it or not, even I’ve been known to drive a few, select people crazy!)

Then again, there are those people who, because of their own lack of social skills, tact, or sensitivity, are constantly stepping on our “feelers,” much like a blind person might stumble over and onto our toes. And once in a blue moon, we even run across someone who actually seems to downright relish stomping on us.

What to do?

Well, one thing’s for sure, we can’t do what comes naturally, which would probably be to send some stomping, stepping, bumping, and bruising right back at the offending party.

How come not?

‘Cause Jesus didn’t call us to be natural people. He called us to love -- and not just love any ol’ way, but to love our neighbors as we love ourselves (He said it was the second most important commandment!) . . . and to love as He loves . . . (now there’s a doozy.)

How in the world -- literally -- do we do that? Certainly not on our own, I can tell you that. (Been there, tried that, big fat flop!) That’s why we have to continue to walk in the Spirit, by the Spirit. (And stuck in this fleshly body for the present time, even that’s pretty tough on most days.)

Still, I’m gonna keep at it. I’ve found that I’m so much better off trying to walk in-step with Him -- even when I fall short -- than when I don’t try at all, like when I run off on my own, or just as problematic, when I sit on the floor and pout, refusing to move at all.

Grinnin' and a'walkin',

Pamm

Who knew?

2009-08-13T15:51:00.003-05:00

Who knew those old beige (or harvest gold) plastic Rubbermaid turntable thingies could be so cute spray painted red! Especially with a backdrop of red and white striped wallpaper! (Just a tiny peak into the current kitchen caper . . .

St. Michael spent most of the afternoon taking out our 45+ years-old sink while I touched up some paint spots around the kitchen. And the tile is going down on the counters RIGHT NOW! It's going to be gorgeous! (Much better than my paint job on the cabinets, but as Nester says, IT DOESN'T HAVE TO BE PERFECT TO BE BEAUTIFUL!)

I'll post more pics in the next day or two when I can find my camera cord that hooks up to my laptop which is in the pile of kitchen stuff somewhere!

Grinnin' like a fool!

Pamm

Pink Saturday . . . early!

2009-08-10T16:47:00.007-05:00

Do you have any idea what happens when you put two small children in the same room to take a nap and somewhere in that room there is a tube of toothpaste and two tubes of Loreal's Sea Fleur lipstick?

I do.

And it ain't pretty.

Do not ask me how my grandson came up with the combination, all I know is that he did, and he and his sister were both none the better for it.

But they did smell minty fresh.

Trying hard to grin . . .

Pamm

Start Shoppin' for Those Dancin' Shoes!

2009-08-08T10:58:00.024-05:00

Well, let's face it. My bloggin' has been pretty sucky lately or just downright non-existent.

But.

There's a reason.

(Now, admittedly, I'm great at comin' up with excuses for just about anything, but this one here is a for-real-genuINE-honest-to-goodness REASON! And some of you are gonna like it! I DO!)

My heart just hasn't been into my bloggin' lately. It's been other places . . . wanderin' around, stoppin' to look here and there, and sometimes just sittin' and thinkin'. I mean I haven't even been lurkin' much either, so that'll tell you somethin' for sure! ('Cause Lord knows I love to window-shop as much -- or more -- than the next gal.) I've just been in a state. Not a bad state, at all, just a wanderin'-around-stoppin'-to-look-here-and-there-and-sometimes-just-sittin'-and-thinkin'-state as far as bloggin' goes.

Then, God bless the Nester. She goes and asks, "Why Do You Blog?" And it was just the question I needed to ask myself (or reask myself). A few weeks ago, even before the Nester nudge, I shared some thoughts regarding my own whys and the new direction I hope to take with this humble little blog. (If you are new to this site, PLEASE go back and read that, as it explains TONS!) Since then, other than to post a few odds and ends (just so I'd remember how to), I really haven't been too inspired.

Until NOW!

After much prayer (which is on-going) and many meetings of the minds (between my colleague in this caper and me), I am finally ready to start getting ready (did ya get that?) to TEXAS TWO-STEP!

OKAY, what I mean by that is that my pard'ner in this adventure, Lora D., and I are gearing up for the official start up of St. Michael's Wife and the TEXAS TWO-STEP as part of our local congregation's women's ministry's fall program. (Gosh, that's a lot of apostrophes! Did ya get all that?!). So, though the thought of going public with all this both excites me (!) AND scares me silly (!), it is time to begin blogging about where we're going with this!

(Thus the new LOOK and the title extension of this little blog!)

Plus, it's time for me to get really REAL about my own need for TWO-STEPPIN' . . .

"Hi. I'm Pamm. And I'm a S-L-O-B."

This is what I would sound like at the appropriate twelve-step program.

So, while I love decorating and love the idea of organizing and cleaning AND love reading all blogs related to those topics, I'm personally only batting 330. here, ladies. And while that would make me a star at any major-league ball park, at home . . . well, it puts me in the bottom of the minors. (I mean really, really, REALLY low.)

This means that if I'm gonna be real with other women who also struggle at home, then I need to be real here on this blog, as well . . . I need to let it all hang out . . . for the sake of ministry. (Hey, it may be ugly and messy, but at least it sounds spirrrrritual.)

Because that's my why. My why of why I'm going to be blogging. I want my blog to be one of the tools that we struggling Suzy Homemakers can use to figure our way out of the messes we've created (or simply allowed to spawn in the dark while we were off doing more fun stuff) at home. I want this blog to play a part in healing our homes. And if it means that I need to show a few gaping wounds of my own, then well, to heck with posting only the pretty pictures.

Don't panic! I won't let this cute little blog turn into a blood-and-guts, gory slasher blog. There'll be lots of beautimous inspiring After pics, for sure; it's just that I'll have to get a little braver about posting honest, for-real Before shots, too. (Not my usual cleaned-up, sanitized, staged version of a Before shot.)

And as a show of good faith, I'm posting what my kitchen looks like right now, this very minute. Yeah, I'm obviously in the middle of painting my kitchen cabinets, but still, most people's countertops still don't look like this when they're right in the middle of a re-do project, do they? (But then, again, that's the whole point: We strugglers don't tend to do things like most folks. We just jump in and let the cereal spill where it may! And who knows, maybe people will think the crumbs in our paint finish is simply a new faux paint treatment!)

Okay, here we go . . . this is where I am sitting

right now. (The breakfast room acting as my

office. Note the small clear space on the right

side of the table . . . St. Michael's current spot --

literally -- for drinking coffee and reading the

morning paper. And who knew that painter's

tape could hold your place in your Bible so well?)

As I turn my head to the right, while I'm typing

away at my laptop, this is what Cusina Casa St. Michael

looks like right now . . . (the doors and drawers

are stacked on the dining room table).

My old Tupperware measuring cup was perfect

for mixing up the TSP needed to degrease and

degloss the cabinets before I started painting.

Ya think I should clean out and organize these

cabinets before I put the doors back on?

Believe it or not, I was able to get to St. Michael's

bagels and the toaster oven this morning!

Even hard-working painters have to eat, right?

And, never fear, I WILL be posting the After pics for sure! (And I told Lora D., "I'm sure I'll have this all finished and cleaned up in time to lead other women in conquering their clutter!")

In fact, I'll be posting not only my own progress, but the victories of other Two-Steppers, too! And this will be the spot for all kinds of helpful hints and principals for Two-Steppin' as we move into the start of the actual "class" (as well as insights we gain from the book of Nehemiah as we compare the rebuilding of Jerusalem's wall to the rebuilding and healing of our homes).

Speaking of which . . .

If you're in the Houston Area,

consider joining us as

we begin the dance this

September 15.

We'll meet each Tuesday evening

from 7:00 PM - 9:00 PM,

at Houston's University Baptist Church,

and during the week, we'll stay in touch

through this blog AND Facebook (to come!).

Grins and blessings!

Pamm

Sunday Sermon: "Past the Wishing"

2009-07-26T13:18:00.004-05:00

“Therefore keep watch, because you do not know

on what day your Lord will come” (Matthew 24:42).

In “Past the Wishing,” singer/songwriter Sara Groves writes,

"I'm standing at the foot of this mountain

Wishing so bad that I could touch that sky

But in the time it takes to make my wish

I never take a step and I never try

"I wish that I were closer to Jesus

But not enough to get me out of bed

For an early morning prayer before the

Rushes of my life take me instead

"I'm past the wishing

Past the wishing

"I'm gazing in these deep well waters

Where the pennies of my life have all been cast

I've decided I am going to save my money

To do something that lasts

"You've shown me my man of Macedonia

You're calling me further on

And I'm tired of saying it's a nice idea

I wish it could be done

"I don't wish that I could go I am going

I don't wish that I could be I am being

I don't wish that I could do it I am doing

By the grace of God I am doing"

May the joyful expectancy of Christ’s triumphant return take us so much further than just the wishing . . . past the couldas, the shouldas, the wouldas . . .

Grins and blessings!

Pamm

Inspired to breakfast!

2009-07-23T07:34:00.011-05:00

I've been running around like a crazy person this week with no time for picture snapping here at Casa St. Michael (and nothing really new to snap), but I did want to get something posted this week, so I thought I'd share some of my inspiration pics with you.

When I first started thinking about bringing red into Casa St. Michael, I really didn't want to repaint my breakfast room walls, which are a yummy green somewhere between apple and . . . well, soft apple or a glow worm? -- that's all I can think of (and since I mixed the color myself, it doesn't really have a name). I wasn't sure how it would work until I came across these pics on the 'Net. A soft-apple-green-painted-glow-wormy-walled breakfast room with red accents! Two of them, in fact! And I love them! I knew immediately that I could keep my walls and start bringing in the red! Now, my little breakfast area doesn't really look anything like either of these more elegant breakfast areas, but they inspired me, and I do love my own, though different, version, too! (Maybe more detailed pics of it next week.)

First up (and this is the only shot I have of this gem):

Don't you love the multi-fabric valance with the matching chair upholstery! (I also have a white built-in corner cabinet, but it remains closed to the public so I can hide all my crafting crap!)

[NOTE: Sweet Stacey from Poofing the Pillows let me know that the following breakfast room and kitchen belong to none other than Rhoda at Southern Hospitality. I bet lots of you recognized it, too! After all, it has her elegant, just-right thumbprint all over it, doesn't it!)

Who wouldn't love having breakfast (or lunch or dinner!) in this beautiful space! I never would've thought of painting the French doors black, but don't they look great! Very stately with their shiny black coats. (And the curtain rods, too.) This looks so cozy and inviting and yet very fresh, I think, with the green paint and unexpected accents of black. (And, of course, I love the toile.)

Another angle . . . love the green pot bursting with fresh flowers!

Looking across the breakfast area toward the kitchen . . . again, more black and red accents . . . bee-you-tee-mous!

The green walls are carried on into the kitchen -- and doesn't this kitchen look like a place where a lot of fun could happen?

Okay, my breakfast room's done . . . now if I could just make myself finish the painting in the kitchen!

And, once again, THANKS FOR THE INSPIRATION,

RHODA (!) with the Gorgeous Breakfast Room!

Grins!

Pamm

Sunday Sermon: Being a Martyr

2009-07-19T12:34:00.002-05:00

In Acts 1:1-11, we read that Jesus tells his disciples that they are to be His witnesses throughout the world. The Greek word used is martus, the Greek word from which we get our English martyr. I couldn’t help but think that in a very real sense, to be a martus is to be a martyr -- to die every day for the cause of Christ . . . to die to our selves. To die to what I, in my flesh, want; to what I, in my flesh, think; to what I, in my flesh, say (That WILL require the Holy Spirit for sure!); to what I, in my flesh, do . . . And, make no mistake about it, since I am still living in a fleshly body, that’s not just hard, it’s impossible. And, all kidding aside, that is why Jesus said I would have to operate in the power of Holy Spirit in order to be His witness! I truly am not capable of doing it on my own. (And trust me, I’ve tried! Disastrously so!)

So this week, I’m going to rethink the idea of having a martyr complex. I’m not going to look at from the standpoint of being a mom -- admit it, all us mamas have had the martyr complex in that light before! -- I’m going to look at it from the view of my calling in Christ. From the viewpoint of being His witness.

My Stud-Muffin is Home!

2009-07-18T12:43:00.021-05:00

Woo-hoo! Life is good! It's RAINING here in downtown El Lago , Texas (HALLELUJAH!); Baby Daughter is in the kitchen fixin' something delicious for dinner (the Boy's coming over after work to join us), AND St. Michael returned from "mission trip" at eleven o'clock this morning -- way ahead of schedule! (What can I say! He's always eager to get home to his favorite flllulflfly woman!) He drove the Big Truck on the way back from New Mexico, dropped off some equipment and his driving partner and then headed the truck toward the storage facility where it stays parked when not in service. The storage place is not far from Casa St. Michael, so that's where I picked him up . . . grinning like a fool! (Me, that is!)

WHAT A CUTIE!

This was my view when I pulled around the corner to where the Big Truck was parked. And, yes, the golf clubs are considered standard mission trip equipment! (When the church building is finished, several of the team always play a round of golf to celebrate.)

I guess the letters on the back of the truck let folks know that these guys and gals don't just work for anybody, y'know! (They work for Somebody!)

St. Michael loves to drive Big Trucks!

But he's always glad to get home!

Another job well done!

And I believe this is the part where he whistled,

"C'mon, Mama, it's time to head to the house!"

(Be still my heart! Ahhh, I love being part of the support team!)

Life is good!

Grins!

Pamm

PS And thanks to those of you who prayed for safety this year. There were some tire blow-outs coming and going but no encounters with drunk drivers this year, and thus, no vehicles turned over or hospitalized team members!

Texas, Our Texas!

2009-07-17T19:31:00.015-05:00

I've shown you the cowboys and Battenberg lace cornice board that inspired our Texas family room. Since I'm in much need of camera-using practice, I tried to snap a few up-close shots of some of the Texas accents scattered throughout the room . . .

Any old birdhouse can become a Texas birdhouse with the simple addition of an old -- Texas, of course -- license plate for a tin roof. (This little red metal garden table sits beside St. Michael's chair in the family room. To give it a little more weight, I put a wooden tray on the top. Add a fat-rooster coaster, and it makes for a convenient place for St. Michael to set his peach tea.)

This handmade Texas Santa, a birthday gift from one of my sista-friends, sits out all year round. (The little critter just below the Texas flag Santa's holding is an armadillo.)

I know you can't really tell, but the framed photo at the bottom left of this pic is a picture of a tiny, old A-frame house that sported the sign "Texas Boot Company." A friend of mine took the black and white picture years ago and then framed it with old barn wood from her father-in-law's property. How special is that!

I know this isn't a shot of the whole thing, but this Texas flag was .50 at a garage sale several years back. I found the large square frame, complete with triple mat, in someone's trash. I covered the outermost mat with my vintage cowboy fabric and painted the middle mat white and the thin inner mat a slate blue. (And, yeah, I edged part of the white mat with a little bit of "rope." And those are buttons I glued around the edges of the Texas star . . . I never know when to stop! I need to hear those voices a little louder: "Step away from the glue gun, Pamm! Away from the glue gun!")

The edge of the mantel is a bunch of frames, taken apart and then all fit together in a rather hodge-podge fashion. I know it wouldn't work for everyone, but we love it! (And nobody else has one like it, that's for sure!)

This dark barn-red shutter frames the left side of some old window panes that are above my sofa. The alphabet blocks in the wire-y star pocket thrift-store thingie are T, E, and X. The other simple star came from a trip to Canton several years back.

And here's the right-side shutter with it's own star -- a rustic Christmas decoration I painted black. And what Texas room would be complete without yellow roses? This is a postcard from Middle Daughter, marked "4 Jun 2002". It reads, "Hey, Mamma! I saw this post card & thought of you 'cause of the yellow roses! I hope you enjoy them! See you soon!!! I love you!" And I have enjoyed them! For seven years now -- much longer than any others I've ever received!

The little framed black and white picture to the right of the shutter is of two-year-old grandson Michael's cowboy boots firmly planted right in between his papa's, St. Michael. Awwwwww! (You can click on pic for a close up.)

And more yellow roses, sitting on my coffee table . . . okay, I KNOW they're FAKE, and that is passe, but these are of sentimental value, as they are from Middle Daughter and St. Bill's wedding eight years ago.

And speaking of those saintly men who live with us wild women who run through life with our hair on fire, St. Michael is on his way home from New Mexico! He should make it to the casa by late Saturday afternoon . . . Woo Hoo! (Probably no more blogging for me this weekend!)

Hope YOUR weekend is as happy and eventful!

Grins until next week,

Pamm

Foodie Friday: Quick & Easy Key Lime Classic!

2009-07-17T08:57:00.004-05:00

Okay, if you're like me and you're sweltering in this July heat (and a weanie about it to boot!), here's a yummy way to cool off this weekend. (Yes, I know that if you're sitting in the AC, you don't really need to cool off, but it's the thought that counts, y'know, and few desserts say SUMMER better than key lime pie!) This is from Middle Daughter's blog, Sugar and Spice. She made this delicious delicacy for her husband, St. Bill's, birthday earlier this week. (And, yes, he got his title the same way St. Michael did: He EARNED it!)

Here's what Lainey wrote . . .

In a medium size bowl, fold one 14oz can of fat-free sweetened condensed milk into one tub of Cool Whip. Then, gradually fold in1/2 cup of lime juice (try 3/4 cup lime juice if you really like it limey!) Pour your mixture into a graham cracker crust and let it hang out in the freezer until it's firm - overnight is best, but I've found that just a few hours works, too!

[Note from her mama: Heck, I've found that sopping out the bowl just SECONDS after pouring this concoction into the pie crust is pretty darn good!)

Enjoy! Now I'm off to Cracker Barrel for a . . . ummm . . . breakfast meeting!

PS Oops! I didn't know when I posted that our "Foodie Friday" host, Designs by Gollum, was also doing a key lime pie! Well, our little pie is if you want to be able to say, "Well, of course I made it myself, honey!" (The store-bought one over at our host's site does look BEE-YOU-TEE-FUL, though, and you know we do say at Casa St. Michael, "Cuteness is everything!")

Bubbles and Giddy-up!

2009-07-14T20:50:00.012-05:00

Now, ya'll know I'm crazy about that cute little bald-headed man o' mine, but let's face it, when St. Michael's off on his annual church-building trip, there's a whole 'nother kind of fun to be had this side o' Houston . . . garage sales galore! New thrift shops! Silly little projects -- or sometimes BIG scary ones -- 'til all hours of the night . . . fun, fun, fun stuff!

Today on the way home from a breakfast date, I stopped at a thrift store I don't get to very often and found just the thing I've been lookin' for -- the perfect soap dispenser for my kitchen counter! Yea! The criteria was kinda crazy, which is why it's taken so long for me to find one. 1) It had to be cute and look good with all my kitchen stuff, right? (After raising three girls, I know the female family motto by heart: "Cuteness is EVERYTHING!") Thus, 2) it needed to be cottagey or country-ish in style. 3) It also needed to be somewhat "hardy," for lack of a better word 'cause I'm kind of a klutz, and anything too delicate is gonna get chipped up or outright broken pretty quickly. 4) It had to be CHEAP! ('Cause, well, I'M CHEAP!)

Not only did I find a dispenser that met every requirement on my list, but there were TWO of them! Woo-hoo! I snapped them up so that I could use one for dishwashing detergent and the other for hand soap. (I can't remember which bloggin' sista gave me that idea, but in order for me to do that, I had to find two . . . and remember, until today I hadn't been able to find ONE even!)

Here's one of the two dispensers sitting on my stovetop. I know you can't read it, but the piece of tape reads $2. I'm sure the antiquey-looking brass top put off some buyers, but it's perfect for my kitchen (as I'll show you in a minute). I LOVE the patina! And the glass part is nice and heavy.

And here's the original price, displayed on the bottom: I know this pic is blurry, but the price sticker says $21.99! (Who would pay that for a soap dispenser! Holy cow!)

See what I mean about being just right for my kitchen? My drawer pulls and cabinet knobs are also antique brass with a nice, old patina!

And here are my babies filled up and ready to go! (Gold is my handsoap, and green is my dishwashing detergent.) How wonderful to get such pleasure out of simple things!

I've picked up a few other goodies this week, but here's another fun one for the chest that sits just below my cowboy cornice board pictured below . . . (And don't forget, you can click on pictures for more up-close detail.)

A very simple vintage paint-by-number horse picture!

How perfect to go right underneath my vintage fabric cowboys and horses! It was $2 at a neighborhood garage sale. I white-washed the frame and painted over the original yellow sky (possible tornado weather?) in the picture with a soft aqua-blue before putting the picture back in its frame and adding it to some vintage black and white family pics. (Yup, that is two-year-old me with bangs cut right to the hairline . . . gotta love the 50s!)

Sunday Sermon: Getting Up and Going Again

2009-07-12T12:36:00.000-05:00

I once told a friend that I was so good at making apologies because I’d had to make so many . . . apologies, amends, repairs, redos . . . we’ve all been there. In fact, when you consider the many areas in which we have the possibility of falling flat on our faces, it’s pretty amazing that we don’t slip up or just outright fail more often than we do.

Home, work, school, church . . . all places where we can fall short. Our parents, our siblings, our spouses, our children, our friends, our colleagues, our selves . . . all people we can let down at one time or another. And, of course, adding to the weight of our screw-ups at some place or with someone is the sense that we’ve somehow failed God, too.

Been there, done that. (You, too?) I take great comfort and find tremendous encouragement, though, in the fact that Moses, David, Jonah, Peter, Paul, John Mark -- so many of our brothers in the faith -- all stumbled at one time or another, too, and yet God lifted them from the dust where they landed, picked them up, and, when they were ready, enabled them to continue the journey, all the while walking with them, hand in hand.

And like me, I bet those fellow struggling saints hardly noticed their scraped knuckles and ragged, torn nails as long as their hands were tucked tenderly into His.

What a gracious Heavenly Papa we have.

Grins and blessings,

Pamm

You've Come a Long Way, Baby!

2009-07-11T12:41:00.010-05:00

One Year Ago Today:

Miss Callie Leighton Odle

6 lbs, 11 oz, 19 inches long

(This was taken just before she was whisked away for

a four-day stay in the NeoNatal Intensive Care Unit.)

One Year Later!

Happy First Birthday, Princess Callie-Belle!

Happy Birthday to you!

Happy Birthday, Sweet Callie!

Happy Birthday to you!

God is so incredibly knock-our-socks-off good!

He loves our children even more than we do and cares

so graciously, mercifully, and extravagantly for them!

What an AWESOME God!

Happy Birthday, you precious gift!

I am so blessed to be your Jaja!

Planned Parenthood, Protestors, and the Texas Preacher Woman

2009-07-10T05:00:00.005-05:00

Do you ever just need to think out loud? Don't really need anyone to fix something or give you advice or debate with you, just to hear your voice and perhaps nod and respond with a "Hmmmm, nope never really thought about that . . . " or maybe even just the facial expression of a hmmmm . . .

That's kind where I am this morning. St. Michael needed to meet his compadres at o'dark-thirty to head out on his annual trip to the Navajo Reservation in NM, where he goes every July as part of a team that will build a church for a small congregation of Native American believers who need a building, and after delivering him and planting one last passionate kiss on his stud-muffin mug, and driving back home, I'm wide awake now, not quite ready to crawl back into bed yet. (Putting on a bra at 4:00 AM really sets the tone, y'know? And, yeah, I'm into my third cup of coffee, too.) Thus, I'm relishing the quiet darkness of a brand new almost-day, and just thinkin' and talkin' to my sistas in Blogland.

I'm not trying to stir up any controversy (I'm not the budding free-for-all, bull-in-a-china-shop journalist I was a hundred years ago) or make anyone mad or start a movement -- just thinking out loud about an interesting (for lack of a better word) experience I had yesterday. (Maybe I should say unusual experience?)

I found myself and Baby Daughter being met at the edge of a cyclone-fenced-in parking lot by a fresh-faced young woman wearing a neon-green vest with PLANNED PARENTHOOD VOLUNTEER in large black block letters across the front. She smiled apologetically and explained as she led us across a not-as-busy-as-I-expected city street, "We have protestors today. The best thing to do is to just keep walking and to not say anything." (I swear I'd never seen her before in my life. Okay, maybe she says the same thing to everybody.)

It wasn't really hard, as the first protestor we passed was a young man, as equally fresh-faced as our escort, who seemed not to know any other way to respond to my nodded-smile greeting but to nod and smile back. In fact, he seemed to plumb forget that he was supposed to say something to us. His T-shirt read, John: something-too-faded to read. (Probably 3:16 if I had to guess. It's a verse so well known that even heathens are supposed to recognize it.) The young female protestor standing a few feet away from him looked as if she had expected him to do the talking, and since he didn't, she, too, was at a loss for words.

From about thirty yards away, though, an older woman, obviously a more experienced protestor, remained decidedly unspeechless. I caught only a few words -- " . . . hurts the woman! The baby feels pain . . . " -- enough to know why she was enduring the ungodly Houston heat. (But, of course, I already knew why she was there: Planned Parenthood. Protestors. Duh.)

However, Baby Daughter and I were not there for any reason that anyone might find to protest. Quite the contrary. In fact, I was entering the building feeling pretty grateful that the people in this building were going to take care of my youngest child. You see, Baby Daughter falls into the category that more and more people -- men, women, young, old, and in-betweens -- are finding themselves in: She doesn't have health insurance. Like tens of thousands of folks in the American work force, she is considered a part-time worker by the credit union that employs her. In fact, everyone at her job level is classified part-time -- never being scheduled for more than 37 or 38 hours a week, just so that they can remain classified as part-time and thus be legally denied benefits. And this is not at all unusual. In hard economic times, more and more businesses are doing the exact same thing. Humanly, real-live-people-wise-speaking, it may not seem right, but economically, on paper, many companies are deciding it's the way to go, thus leaving many folks in no-man's land -- they make to much to qualify for welfare benefits, but they don't make enough to cover the cost of medical insurance. (Oh, and in case you're wondering why Baby Daughter doesn't get a "full-time" job, though she works as many as 35 hours a week at times, she is also a night student who carries a full class-load during the school year.)

(Just so you can picture this Texas cutie.)

So Baby Daughter goes to Planned Parenthood for her well-woman checkups. And when her most recent pap smear showed abnormal cells, this is where she went for follow-up. And it's where my 24-year-old Baby Girl and I were yesterday for her endocervical curettage (or biopsy of abnormal cervical cells). It's where she qualified for a grant that covered the cost of this procedure, which, otherwise, even at non-profit Planned Parenthood, would have been about $400.

Now, stay with me. I'm not proposing socialized medicine. I'm not nominating Planned Parenthood for a community service award. I'm not discouraging meaningful protest against some things in our society that are woefully wrong. I'm just thinking out loud, remember?

And yes, as I sat in the waiting room with my hot-pink Bible (every woman needs a hot-pink Bible she can stick in her purse), highlighting and taking notes for a study in Nehemiah, and waiting for Baby Daughter, I couldn't help but wonder how many of the young women I saw -- particularly those accompanied by young men -- were there for abortion referrals. (And for the record, I hate abortion.) And, yes, it bothered me. My heart ached at the possibilities and probabilities in the room. But I also know that there were many more women who were there because there were no other viable options for simple female health care.

I love the work that crisis pregnancy centers do -- in fact, St. Michael has spent many, many hours doing volunteer work on a recent remodeling project at our own local Crisis Pregnancy Center -- but I couldn't help but wonder what we as Christ followers do for the health needs of women who aren't in the midst of a crisis pregnancy. Or people, in general, for that matter.

Again, I'm just thinking out loud.

How many Christian physicians donate time to under-served populations? How many Christian attorneys? How many Christian mechanics? How many Christian teachers? How many . . . well, you get my drift. And again, I'm just thinking out-loud.

I'm just thinking out-loud. Loudly.

Smiles, prayers, and loud thoughts,

St. Michael's Wife, Pamm

(a.k.a. "The Texas Preacher Woman")