Looking for a Super Cute, yet Modest Swim Suit?

Look no further than LimeRicki.

Check out this website, and you'll be emailing me with your heartfelt thanks. This company carries colorful, adorable suits, and each one is modest. Many of the styles would look perfect on a teenage girl, and many of the styles would look fantastic on a forty-something like me.

Their new 2011 collection isn't out quite yet...April, I think, is when we'll see the new line. But go peruse the website, and look over their 2010 collection, to get an idea of what these swimsuits are about. You. Will. Love.

And if you are a small to medium size, you can snag some amaaaaaazing deals RIGHT NOW, as they are clearing out their 2010 inventory.

Jeremiah's First Sunday to Church

Our youth pastor Matt and his wife Kelly and their precious brood...
L-R, Lydia, David, baby Jeremiah in momma's arms, and Hannah Grace in daddy's arms.

Doesn't Kelly look gorgeous? This picture was taken just this morning at church. Four weeks after her unexpected fall and an emergency C-section. This girl makes motherhood look like a piece of cake. We all know it isn't...we all know those first few weeks of motherhood can be hard work...but she makes it seem enviable.

Can't tell you how great it was to see their faces today. I was right there when Jeremiah was born, but I've not been to their house yet to see the baby after that - and to see his baby SWING. I have been hearing about this newfangled infant swing they got for Jeremiah, and I can't wait to blog about it. You can put your i-pod in it, and play YOUR music while it swings the baby. No more little silly mechanical sounding baby-ditties running through your head all day!

If you don't mind...if you are a praying person...please mention Kelly and family to the Father before you head off to the next blog. Just ask the Lord for their continued health, strength, and blessing.

Thank you. (This means there will be anywhere from 50 to 200 prayers for the Bailey family, depending on the number of page views, and who it is that views this post! That excites me!)

On My 24 Hour Bucket List

That does it. I am having a mimosa with my breakfast tomorrow. Can't help it. The whole idea just blows my skirt straight up.

The way I look at it, any one of us could kick the bucket by this time tomorrow. Therefore, we all need a 24 hour "bucket list". What random, fun, or amazing thing do you want to do tomorrow?

After I've had my mimosa, in the morning, I'll contemplate what the next item should be, on my personal 24 hour bucket list.

Ingredients:

* Champagne (1 bottle)
* Orange Juice (1 carton)

Preparation:
Fill half of a champagne flute with chilled champagne and top off with chilled orange juice, gently stir. If you want, slice up a strawberry to decorate the rim of each flute.

Cute Purse!

Is this not the cutest thing? Guess what it is made of! Go on....oh, please guess!

....it is made of plastic grocery bags!

::delighted squeak::

I know, right? Who thinks of these things?

(Many thanks to Ree Drummond of The Pioneer Woman, for posting about these on her blog - I never knew anything like this existed before this moment. Oh, epiphany, epiphany...)

But if you ever catch me making one? Shoot me on sight. Juuuuuuust shoot me.

Time For Myself

My latest project, begun today...

I tired long ago of blog-histrionics about rain drops and solitude. Gah. I'll never linger over another webpage extolling placid moments spent with livestock - the home education movement is rife with quasi-rural wannabe's. Full of pseudo-deep thoughts, these blogs and books are entertaining in a pathetic sort of way. Treat them like you would an episode of The Real New Jersey Housewives.

Never. Tune. In.

Having said all that, you'd be mistaken if, in reading about all the hustle and bustle of life here at the cottage, you thought I never enjoy nature or a quiet moment.

Oh, I do. You have noooooo idea.

See, it is the busy-ness of my life that makes me really, really...really...good at leisure.

But it goes more like this: lots of work, lots of projects, lots of family, lots of friends, lots of people make up my days...and the moments or hours or days of quiet are the hem that keeps me from unraveling.

Not the whole fabric of my life. Not even most of the fabric of my life.

The hem. The quiet moments are just the hem, but without the hem? It falls apart, thread by thread. The quiet moments are just the trim...the lace, the rick-rack, the beautiful gilded braid, but without it, the borders of my time here on earth would not be well defined, much less enchantingly lovely. This is the meaning of solitude. Much like the life of Jesus, quiet alone-ness is meant to comprise a small portion of a life that is mostly spent loving people, busily and actively and (often) painfully.

Without a peopled, busy life, all the quiet and long walks and the flock of Nubian goats and raindrops on roses and "dappled things and skies of couple-color as a brinded cow" (my favorite poet, Gerard Manley Hopkins) - well, its all just so much crap.

The only things we take into eternity are relationships.

Which reminds me of a very well written book on interior design entitled "A Perfectly Kept House is A Sign of a Misspent Life". Such a wonderful book on home design - one that lets the philosophy, that a home is the place where people love and are loved, rule everything...that philosophy should guide design, and take precedence above slavish displays of wealth, or even above showcasing a certain style, like Colonial or Victorian or Arts and Crafts or Mediterranean villa or French country (my fav) or Rustic or Whatever.

I could write a book: A Whole Lot of Days of Long walks and Quiet Are A Sign of a Misspent Life.

Time to myself, "quiet time", walks and dew and dappled things - these are not my life's essence - they are what recharge my spirit, enabling me to get right back into the essence of my life: nurturing people.

Busy. Is. Good.

But this week? Oh, it is me-time all the way, baby.

My beloved is two states north of here, left this past Sunday, and won't be home until Saturday night....late. My youngest son is with him, and they are having a blast, just the two of them.

Me? I have sat in a coffee shop all by myself reading an e-book, gone shopping for five hours all by myself, eaten cake all by myself, watched chick flicks (yes, plural) with my daughter, snuggled my grandson, prayed, cooked, and been inspired, all by myself. And it is only Tuesday.

This week is my own version of "Eat, Pray, Love".

I'm really, really good at quiet-time. Precisely because I don't have much of it.

Bacon For a Crowd - The Easy Way

Am I the only one who thought bacon for breakfast meant standing over a cast iron griddle, flipping and flipping (the bacon...not me, silly!) and getting those painful pinpricks of hot grease on your arms?

For twenty years, that is what bacon for breakfast meant to me. But we still ate a lot of it.

Well, no more! No more standing over my griddle, flipping bacon, that is. Shoot,people...I'll never go without bacon. There'll be bacon, or some version of it, in heaven, I'm pretty sure. And I have deep theological reasons for thinking so.

So here's what you do. This is so easy, you'll want to kiss me.

Take a large griddle, or rimmed baking sheet, and line it with foil. (My pan up there is a Calphalon nonstick, hard anodized griddle - the biggest size they make. It barely fits in my oven...it is also oven-safe, to 500 degrees.)

Pop it in a cool oven. Put it in diagonally, if your griddle is also too big for your generously sized oven. Turn your oven on to 400 degrees. Walk away for 17-20 minutes.

I'm serious. Go get dressed, or read your Bible, or grab a shower. In 20 minutes, here is what you'll get:

Um...sorry. A bunch of bacon got inhaled before I could even snap the picture. Soooooo good. Soooooo easy.

And no more of those pesky little pinprick-size grease burns. No flipping.

No. Flipping.

This tip is worth a thousand dollars. I should have a Paypal up and running on my blog, for all the eager and happy and grateful contributions that ought to come rolling in. (Just kidding...)

"The Baby" Turns 18

These stats are from this one season, so far. His national tournament is in Springfield Missouri next week...Tim is leaving with him this Sunday, right after church, and they will be there for one whole week! Isaac will be playing game after game after game.

His gift from Hannah and Justin...Hannah wrapped it so cleverly and creatively. Isaac's playing style is similar to that of Derek Rose, or so others have told him. Actually, I noticed that when you look at these pictures up close, you can kind of see it.

We can't believe he is 18!

Opening his gift from Sarah and Jonathan...

How many people does it take to open a life-sized vinyl "Fat Head" wall decal of Derek Rose? (Justin and Hannah's gift. If you look, you'll see Justin holding baby Tim...Jonathan and Hannah are helping Isaac get the package open. Sarah is on her way to help, too. See Isaac's change of clothes from the last picture to this one?)

Our boy is being looked at by three small colleges, all in other states. He's been bookmarked...flagged...he's being watched...however you say it...by a recruiter out of Colorado, and also Georgia, and North Carolina, so far. Since he has only played high school basketball on an organized team this year, he has chosen to delay graduation in order to be eligible to play one more year. This was a difficult decision for him and for us, as he is ready to graduate. Much prayer has gone into the decision. He has all his necessary credits to graduate this year, and a perfectly average ACT score that, while it won't get him an academic scholarship, will let him attend any state college this fall.

But if he can play an extra year, the possibility is strong that he'd be noticed by some bigger colleges...he could get a full ride. Trust me, we wouldn't be making this kind of decision if that were not a distinct possibility. And this gives him time to work for even better than average ACT scores.

While out shopping for his birthday cake yesterday, I ran across something that perfectly sums up his/our decision to play one more year of high school basketball, and literally "shoot for" a college scholarship:

Precious confirmation.

Happy Birthday, Youngest Son!

You wouldn't be wasting a prayer on him, or on us. God is up to something with this young man.