He 'really' cares

Labor Day weekend my mom and her husband, my sister and her husband, my aunt and her husband, and a good friend and her husband were all camping on the Sylamore River in Mountain View, AR. Earlier I had decided to ride up to visit. Tim, my husband, Kaden, my grandson, and myself headed out. We decided to go see Blanchard Springs Cavern before going to the campsite. My grandson had recently become interested in caves, and I thought this was the perfect opportunity to introduce him to a real cave. That morning we left home, and drove 2 1/2 hours straight to the cavern. We took the hour long walking tour to view and learn about the cave. After the tour of the cavern we decided to do a little fishing at Mirror Lake (located in the National Park). It was 95 degrees and sweat seemed to come from every pore of our body. We were happy to find a tree towering over the wooden pier. The shade from the tree helped a little, but it was still hot and sweaty. We fished about an hour, and didn't get single bite. Not having any luck at the fishing hole, we drove a few hundred feet to the natural spring that flows into Mirror Lake. The head of the spring was a short walking distance from the parking lot. The coolness rising from the natural spring made the walk pretty enjoyable. We spent a few minutes taking pictures of our grandson playing in the cool water, and headed back to the truck. The day was getting late, and we knew family would be gathering at the campsite. We decided to head to the campground to visit, and wait for supper. On the drive back, Tim reached behind his drivers seat and pulled out a bag. He reached into the bag, pulled out a tube of Old Spice Deodorant. He pointed it in my direction and said 'It don't matter to me, but you might consider using some of this before you get around those women at the campground'. I was caught by surprise! Was he telling me I stunk? He tried to assure me again by saying he didn't care what I smelled like, but using the deodorant might be a good thing to do. I tried to laugh his comment off, but finally took his gesture as being sincere. I took the deodorant, and applied to my armpits. I now smelled like a 'man', but at least I didn't smell like nasty armpit sweat. During the process of peri menopause, I have noticed my body odor being a little stronger than usual. I guess that day it was even stronger than I thought. My Women's Secret Deodorant had not held up. Tim, Kaden and I continued our drive back to the campground. It takes a gentleman to 'really' care, and tell you that you stink in such a kind and compassionate way. We got back to the campground, visited with the campers, and waited for supper. What a treat we had that night. The menu was a shrimp boil with all the trimmings. We ate until we about popped, and no one could smell the stink that had been radiating from my armpits a couple hours before. The Old Spice worked.

.

Whoo Pig Souie

Spring of 2015 I took my first quilting class. It was by well known quilter and author, Debbie Caffrey. I was excited to attend and learn as much as I could. I practically knew nothing about quilting, and was a blank page waiting to be filled. Before classes began we were to purchase necessary fabric, tools, notions, and obtain a copy of the book that would be used during the class. I decided to make an Arkansas Razorback quilt for my oldest son. After getting all the required items, I was ready. During the class we went over each of the different quilt patterns in the book we could have chosen to do. Somewhere during the discussion I remember hearing the easier quilt patterns were found at the front of the book, and as you work your way towards the back of the book the harder and more difficult patterns were at the end. Evidently I did not get that memo, because I had chosen to make the very last pattern in the book. I was going to be making the most difficult pattern. What a task for a newby. I finished the quilt top a few months ago, and was proud of the Razorback theme on the quilt. I contemplated having someone else quilt it, and had even gone so far as to get a price for the job. In the end I decided to quilt it myself. It was a challenge! I am glad I decided to quilt it because was a gift for my oldest son's 29th birthday. Somehow it just meant more giving it to him knowing I had quilted it. My mom was gracious enough to sew the binding on, so a big thanks goes to her for helping me out.

The Prayer Rock

About 10 years ago I had an interest in making jewelry. I'd taken classes on making jewelry using raw materials such as silver, copper, and brass. Purchasing the metals in a sheet, cutting them, soldering them, polishing and buffing them you could form and create beautiful pieces of jewelry. It was an art form I greatly enjoyed. During that time I would shop on eBay for stones to set in the pieces I had made.  A couple purchases of stones I made were not of pre cut stones. They were stones still whole and uncut. I can't recall what prompted me to purchase the stones, because they would not have worked in the type of jewelry I was making. I ended up placing the stones in the console of my truck. One of the stones I began using as, what I'll call, 'my prayer rock'. The prayer rock stayed in my console for months. I would use it as a reminder to pray. Whenever I was in my truck and sitting idle, such as a stop sign, stop light, fast food joint, etc., I would take the rock in my hand and pray. The rock was smooth to the touch and was soothing to hold. Evidently when I cleaned out my console I removed the rock with all the other stuff from the console. The rock became missing for a while. Some time later the rock resurfaced, and once again I was comforted by the use of my prayer rock. Thru the past 10 years the little rock has somehow kept resurfacing. A few years ago I remember finding the rock outside. It was mashed down in dirt that once had been mud. I saw my rock, and of course I could not leave my prayer rock behind. It took some digging, but I retrieved my rock. Like I said the rock seems to keep resurfacing.... well, the rock has showed up recently. Somehow it has made it's way into my sewing room that is on the back side of my barn. The other day my grandson saw my rock and commented on it. Of course I had to tell him the story of 'my prayer rock', and the journey we had together. It must have struck a cord with him because he wanted to pray with my prayer rock. So, there in the middle of the sewing room we prayed. We have prayed more times since that first introduction of the prayer rock. The little rock is used with each of us holding an end of the rock as we pray.