Official Tchotchkes Moratorium (Operation Christmas Child)

I have a love-hate relationship with crafting.

Love:  I enjoy making things.
Hate:  I loathe clutter.  I do not like tchotchkes (yep, that's how it's spelled).  Once I have the experience of making something I'm either "been there and done that" about it, or I'm so critical I can't stand to keep it around because I find its flaws.  I have donated many of my creations to Goodwill.

So with this ambivalence in mind, I went through my Pinterest boards a while back and unpinned a lot of projects.

That was a relief.

This past weekend I had an Operation Christmas Child box packing party.  It was fun, and together my girlfriends and I created 35 boxes. I think most women there want to go forward with this.  New to many, I heard, "Well, now I know what I'm doing, so next year..."

My friend Dori taught us so much about how to get the most into our boxes.  She was an inspiration.

The afternoon just warmed my heart. Of course, we were working and talking so much, I only took one photo--after everyone left, and that photo is even missing a few of the boxes...

My friend Lynette's are missing from above, she used Michael's photo boxes for hers.  How cute is this?

While sandwich eating (inhaling) and net surfing during my ten minutes of lunch "break" on Tuesday, something caused me to decide I should now craft for others.  I can't remember what I saw, but I started web searching and reviewing pins for projects with a purpose in mind.

Now I hope to make a few things each month for my boxes for '13, starting with these:

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He's a chipmunk, but I might leave off the tail and make him a bear.

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I couldn't find marbles this year, and at the last minute I remembered they sell them at Party City.  However, I have learned NOT to go there the weekend before Halloween. Perhaps I could do this next weekend for my class boxes...

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My knitting sensei tells me I could even make these!

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I'm pretty excited about this, and I'm looking forward to getting started.  

Also, I found a great OCC reference site, I think Dori had shared it with me before, but I came across it again.  Operation Christmas Child might turn me into a coupon user yet...

He Gets My Vote

Photo from the Boston Globe website

Normally, I shy away from politics.

Normally, I hold my thoughts because I don't want to get into a debate.

 

But this campaign season has not been normal; it's been uglier than others I recall.  

Name calling has run rampant.

People of different views have been unkind.

It's heartbreaking.

I am voting for Barack Obama.

This op/ed piece details why with much more eloquence than I could express.

I understand you may disagree with me.

I understand I am voting the opposite of many in my family.

I ask that you understand I am informed and firm in my stance.

It is essential that we respect, honor, and value the right to hold and vote our different opinions.

It is what makes this nation great, it isn't something that should divide us when we must remain knit together as one.

"The Boy" is Going Back to LA

My son has decided to move back to Louisiana come January.

Bearing in mind I have three important people in my life who have lost their children to death, I am trying to process this turn of events with perspective while still allowing myself to be sad.  It's been a less than smooth week.

Yes, I know my son is still alive, and I can and will reach out to him often.

But I am still grieving.  I'm upset that he's moving far enough away that I couldn't drive to see him in one day.  (Unless I suddenly develop the ability to drive for 17 hours without falling asleep.)  I'm sort of--and yes this is ridiculously petty--bummed about going on vacation to the same state each year, or even twice a year.  But mostly, and this is cart before the horse truth, I am already missing the idea of being the kind of gramma I hoped to be.

He is not married, not even engaged.  We know though time flies, he's 26--when did that happen?  Perhaps one day he will be a daddy.  (I mean, he had me save his Lego, there has to be a reason.)

He will be there.  They will be there.

I will be here.

That doesn't fit in with the image of me frequently baby-sitting, reading to, rocking, wagonging, swinging, painting with, chocolate sharing with, and reading to (I know, that's a repeat--I hoped to do it often) my someday grandchild(ren).

Admittedly, I'm sad that automatically I'd take a second and distant seat to the local grandmother.  Yes, I know this is petty, but it's how I feel.  I'm working through it, all the ugly of me.

For a number of years, it was just Mac and me.  He has been welcoming to Brad.  I was and still am looking forward to having a daughter-in-law one day.  I've always been open to sharing Mac around the holidays. I have lived without seeing him on Thanksgiving a few years.  I never wanted to be controlling of his time.  But this one, this move, makes me want to duct tape him to the couch and say no.

I know that's extreme, and of course, I'd never do it.  Convicted felons aren't allowed to be teachers. I just don't know how else to process all this other than to feel it and name it.  I lack the graciousness to just say I hope for the best and mean it because my heart's imagination is running rampant.