http://gatewaypundit.rightnetwork.com/2010/11/great-stocking-stuffer-undies-that-show-the-4th-amendment-when-scanned-by-tsa/

Check this out Dad!!!! I know you will get a hoot out of these.

I have finally finished the baby outfits that I have been working on.  It has been a very, very long time since I have done this kind of sewing.  Heirloom sewing is not like riding a bike, you don’t just get back on and it all comes back to you.  Thank God for Martha Pullen and my Singer Guide to Sewing for Children. 

This is the completed dress that I made.  You can see the tucking on the front and the embroidery.  It is made out of white imported Swiss Batiste.

The slip is made out of imported Swiss Batiste also.  It snaps on the shoulders with invisible snaps.

This is the best close-up that I could get of the front of the dress.  You can see the tatted lace around the neck and around the sleeves that is attached with entredeux.  The bottom is also trimmed in the same tatted lace.

The bonnet is made from a handkerchief that is trimmed in the same tatted lace attached with entredeux.  It is then folded to make a bonnet and a channel is sewn to shoot the ribbon in the back that shapes it to fit the baby’s head.  The ties are held on with ribbon rosettes.

I made a white Swiss Batiste bib to go over the front of the dress in case the baby turns out to be a spitter.

Out of pink cashmere flannel I made this coat since the baby is due any time now. 

You can’t quite see in this detail of the coat but it is piped in pink checked baby cord piping that I made out of pink gingham.  It fastens with snaps with heart-shaped buttons sewn over.

The bonnet that goes with the coat has machine embroidery detail on the brim and gingham cording.  The ties are sewn on with pink heart buttons.

What follows is a copy of a poem that I included with the white bonnet.

The Magic Hanky Poem

I’m just a little hanky, as square as square can be.

But with a stitch or two they made a bonnet out of me.

I’ll be worn home from the hospital

or on a Christening Day,

Then I will be neatly pressed and carefully put away

On the day she is married, so we’ve been told,

Every well-dressed bride must have something that is old.

So what could be more fitting than to carry little me?

A few stitches snipped, and a wedding hanky I’ll be.

And if, per chance, it is a boy, someday he too will wed.

So to his bride he can present this hanky

once worn upon his head.

Dear Big Brother,

Every year about this time the New Liturgical Year starts for Catholics.  For the next few weeks Catholics everywhere will wait with anticipation the coming of Christ at his birth in Bethlehem.  While the whole world shops, hurls profanities at each other, camps out on the doorsteps of department stores, and spends money they can ill afford on that “one more gift” all in the spirit of a Christmas that they cannot understand, Catholics will be prayerfully anticipating and preparing their hearts for the coming of the King of Kings.

Part of that anticipaiton is a little know tradition called the Advent Wreath.  All we need are some purple and pink candles and some greens.  Each night a candle is lit and prayers are said reminding us who we are waiting for and begging Him for his help in preparing our hearts, minds, and souls so that we may be worthy of his presence when he comes.

In years past the candles necessary to observe this humble custom were readily available, in some stores they were even marketed as Advent candles.  Now I find that just as the words “Merry Christmas” are slowly and methodically being removed from all things retail, so to is the ability to readily find such mundane things as purple and pink taper candles.  Why should this be so?  I asked myself if I had just waited until it was too late to buy my candles, but after querying the clerks in several stores I find that I didn’t wait until too late, they weren’t there to be found.  Red cancles abound, as do green, white and cream.  Some stores even carried the dregs of fall colors that had no doubt been put out long before summer had even begun to wain.  But purple and pink were not to be found.  I finally found the tapers I bought in a candle store in the mall at a very dear price.

My question to whoever is, “Why?”  What has anyone got against my being able to practice my faith?  Was this country not founded on the basic principle of freedom of worship?  Does my practice of my faith in the sanctuary of my home somehow threaten the functioning of the government of the United States?  And to those who are in control of retail in this country with your eye on the bottom line, I would think that making sure that each and every person in this country had the means necessary to practice these “silly” little customs, afterall it is the Christmas season every year that makes you salivate knowing that shoppers during that season can make or break you.

Now that my bit of angst over having to be dragged out of my home to shop is over.  I would like to wish everyone out there (even those I will offend by my prayers and wishes) a very Happy and Holy Advent season and a very Merry Christmas at the end of that season.

Outside my window….it is dark but I have heard it said that it is always darkest just before they turn on the lights.  At some point this morning God will turn on the lights then it will be light.  I haven’t a clue what the weather forecast is for today and I have no intention of finding it out.  I have nowhere to go and I intend having a good time getting there.

I am thinking….about shoppers and retailers.  I had occasion to go shopping yesterday (a rare thing for me and an even rarer thing on a Sunday).  The experience left me more resolved to stay at home.

I am thankful for….family, friends and good food.  Let me take this opportunity to say that I outdid myself with the Thanksgiving dinner (with the help of many). Leftovers are being enjoyed by all and so it the fact that I don’t need to cook.  I am thankful for the time that we all spent together and that Adam got to come home and be with us for a few days.

From the schoolroom….MK is done with her semester (we are all very happy about that) and Matthew continues to fill his mind with lofty thoughts and important information.  One more week and my new semester will begin.  I think that I am even eager for another round of classes to commence.

From the kitchen….how many different ways can turkey be prepared?  Fear not I have an arsenel of recipes.  Tonight it will be my famous tater casserole with turkey on top.

I am wearing….jammies! What do you think at 4:05 in the morning!

I am creating….works of art!!!!  Don’t look in that box behind the quilting machine.  This is the season of secrets and tip toeing, shushing and giggling.

I am going…..nowhere at a very leisurely pace.  Today is Monday that can mean only one thing, laundry.  The house was thoroughly cleaned on Saturday so there isn’t much to do in that area but Mount Washmore must be scaled.

I am reading…..A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens.  It is an annual thing for me.  That is my favorite Christmas story and my favorite book.

I am hoping…..that the two front teeth that Layn has been working on all weekend have come through and that is the reason why he is finally sleeping.  Everyone in this house could stand a full night’s sleep, especially his mother.

I am hearing….clocks ticking, keys clicking, the house groaning and sighing.  Some mornings it is almost as if this old house is groaning in protest at having to get up one more morning.  Soon the sounds of people trying to capture “just five more minutes” will commence.  These are the sounds that comfort me on mornings when sleep refuses to hold me.

Around the house….secrets are gradually appearing in random corners.  Whispers are being heard in the hallway.  I see heads together suddenly jump apart when others appear.  The spirits of Christmas surprises are beginning to invade our home.

One of my favorite things….the Christmas contrasts between the male preparations and the preparations of MK and Melissa.  The girls are very methodical and organized.  Matthew hasn’t a clue but don’t worry, there is still plenty of time.

A few plans for the rest of the week….finish up a couple of projects of my own, holy hours on Tuesday and Friday and my class to teach on Thursday.  MK and Matthew have to see the chiropractor today.  Then there are the usual mundane chores and the unusual surprises.

Here is a picture thought that I am sharing with you….

A happy moment in between bouts of crankiness caused by the two top teeth that are coming in.  Hurry up teeth!

Saturday was a fairly typical day around here.  Doug was off working on things that he needed to do.  Ian was out in the shop fixing something.  Matthew had gotten called into work at the Dollar General and MK was off to church to play the organ. Melissa was at work in the deli at Price Chopper and Layn and I were climbing mount washmore, one of your quiet days in this neighborhood.  Then Ian came to the back door chuckling to himself and asked me if I wanted my laugh for the day. 

The sheriff had just left.  They had pulled in with pictures of two pigs that had been seen wandering around the city of Sherrill and wanted to know if our pigs were all present and accounted for.  Ian went across the road to the barn and checked.  Sure enough all the pigs were there.  He looked at the pictures and said that they didn’t look anything like the animals that two other farmers that we knew had.  Off went the sheriff to try to solve the mystery of the pigs. 

Ian and I had a chuckle and chatted about how the only thing that the police could do was get a tranquilizer gun and tranq them and take them to Burtons and put them in a pen there. (local cattle auction place). 

About 1 1/2 hours later Jason comes in and asked if I had heard about the pigs that were loose in Sherrill.  I told him yes.  He asked if I had gone down the road to check if his pigs were in (oops, I forgot about Jason’s pigs!)  I just looked at Layn and all the laundry and said no I hadn’t been anywhere today.  Then he asked if Ian had checked.  I told him he would have to ask Ian.  Well, Ian had just been called out to a fire call so he was unavailable so Jason took off in his car to check for himself.  No pigs!!!!!

That started a whole bout of phone calls.  Call Melissa to come home (she was off work but had planned on going shopping) to get the truck home so we could hook up the trailer, call Doug to get home to help catch the pigs and get them on the trailer (he was at a neighbors pulling down their barn), call the police to find out where exactly in Sherrill the pigs were and to inform them that I knew who the owner was and that he was on the way.

When Jason got there the police asked him if they were his pigs.  He said yes.  They asked how he could tell.  He called out “Saphire, Bacon come here!”  The looked up at him and came to him.  The officer was amazed and asked how Jason did that.  He just looked at the man and said, “I feed them every morning.”

The pigs were loaded up, brought home and put in a more secure pen.  The police have Jason’s number in case any lawn was rooted up too much, Jason will fix it.  All’s well that ends well.

The people of Sherrill had their excitement for the week too.  I hear it drew quite a crowd!!! I am waiting to see if it made the front page of our local paper.

Outside my window….it is damp and gloomy.  Yesterday’s sunshine and relative pleasant temps have given way to more winter-like weather again.  The weatherman is calling for chance of showers off and on all day today.  That’s ok it is a good day to spend inside anyway.

I am thinking…about the week to come.  What a shame that we have to set a day aside to remind us to be thankful.  Each and everyday we should all count the many blessings that have been bestowed upon us.  The very fact that we are alive is a miracle in itself.  Even those whose lives seem to have no blessings in them currently are filled with them.  They are the ones who are an example to the rest of us who seem to be sailing along with not a care in the world.

I am thankful for…my list is too long to enumerate.  My faith in God and my family are first and foremost on my list.

From the schoolroom….there will be classes this week in spite of expectations to the contrary.  The superintendent has spoken!

From the kitchen…..Mary-Kate made sesame chicken and rice yesterday and there is enough to have today also!!!!! It was delicious I might add.  The rest of the week is up in the air.  I only realized yesterday that Thursday is Thanksgiving. ooops!!!!!!

I am wearing…..jammies and that is how it is going to be today.  Today is a jammie day I can feel it in my bones.

I am creating…..a masterpiece, a work of art, a family.

I am going….nowhere today!!!!! Today I stay home. There is no laundry for me to do (8 loads on Saturday) no real cleaning to do (Doug, MK and Matthew did it on Saturday) and no cooking for me to do.  I think that I shall spend the day with my sewing machines.

I am reading…done with Venerable Bede and now I am on to The Story of English by McCrum, MacNeil and Cran

I am hoping….that the hives on my arms and legs go away on their own without a visit to the dr and a couple of rounds of steroids.  Mind it has never happened before and I don’t know why I am deluding myself into thinking that they will go away on their own now. One can only hope.

I am hearing….the clicking of Isabella’s nails on the floor, Matthew talking to Mary-Kate, and Mary-Kate preparing food for the dog’s breakfast.  Some of the usual sounds that herald morning in this house.  Homey noises, familiar noises, noises that evoke warmth and family.  These are my safe and secure noises.

Around the house…..it’s not too bad this morning even though we did have company over the weekend.  Everyone worked together to put things to right and there is really very little tidying up to be done. 

One of my favorite things….sitting back when people are here and knowing that all are having a good time.  Mary-Kate invited some friends over yesterday.  She prepared a delicious meal and was a very delightful hostess.  It was nice to watch and listen as everyone visited and shared together.

A few plans for the rest of the week….finish a few sewing projects today.  Tomorrow I have holy hour and the usual loads of laundry.  Wednesday Matthew has to serve and funeral and MK has to play the organ.  Thursday is Thanksgiving day.  Friday everyone will be home unless the weather turns bad.  I have holy hours on Thursday and Friday also, can’t forget those in all the celebration this week.

Here is a picture thought that I am sharing with you….

Mary-Kate’s friends Jolene and her husband Scott Nelson got into the Wii action.  I think Scott really got into it.

Dan and Mary bowled a game and then retirel to the couch to watch for awhile.

Layn just wonders what all these grownups are doing.  He did have a bit of a curious look all day wondering if all his grownups had gone off the deep end.

 Safe with Grandpa!  He never gets too silly.

Our bit of repartee from yesterday came back to me when I was meditating in front of the Blessed Sacrament this afternoon.  I have been reading Fulton Sheen’s The Priest is Not His Own for several weeks now when I go to holy hour and there is such a richness in that book that I find myself marking passages that need extra contemplation.  I fear that it will take the rest of my life to make it through. 

One passage in particular made me think of you two so I will share it here with you.

“Our sublime dignity does not consist exclusively in the priestly character given in Holy Orders, but in what this character also demands as its complement, namely, Christ taking the place of our personality.  Then we grow in Christ as Mary did. Certainly, Our Blessed Mother was richer spiritually on Christmas Day than on the day of the Annunciation, , richer at Cana than at Bethlehem, richer at Calvary than at Cana and richer in the Upper Room at Pentecost than on Colgotha.”

It kept coming to me that each home is a domestic church and that we are all “priests” of the church in a certain sense since we are all called to teach, govern, and to sanctify each other.  The more I thought of it the more I thought that these words must hold some truth for all of us.  That Christ must take the place of our personality, little by little, day by day, if we are to become transformed and become perfected in him.

As I said before I have not the education that you two have in theology since I never had the opportunity to take any such classes.  All of my thoughts and insights come from my reading, prayer, and meditiation in front of the Blessed Sacrament.

Bless you both.

Lest those out there who are more than shallow think that I am of that ilk, there is more to my thoughts on the Theology of the Body than I have thus far expressed.  This side of the coin is a bit closer to home and much more difficult to express but far more important than the mere physical.  Again these thoughts are rough and haven’t been revised in anyway.  There is time for all of that another day.

Once they were tucked up tight for the night the man turned to his wife and smiled at her with all the love that had grown in his heart over the years of their marriage, “Words have never been my friend, you are so much more adept at them.  Tell me do you feel the love that I have for you in the same way that I feel yours?”

Tears welled up in her eyes and she looked at him in amazement, “How could you not know that I feel your love, and appreciate it more than my own life.”  With an earnestness that was almost childlike she held his eyes with hers and told him of the evidence of his devotion to her.  “You know my secrets, my sins, and my past and yet you love me.  You know my faults, failings, addictions and selfishness and yet here you are.  At the worst moments of our marriage, when I have pushed you beyond patience you have never once used any of it against me.  Never once have you revealed my insides to hurt me.  You encourage though you know I will fail once again.”  She gazed at him with unutterable tenderness and said, “The scars of the flesh are easy to ignore and even easier to appreciate for the reasons that they were acquired.  It is the scars of the soul that you have had to contend with.  Those battles are the ones that you have neither understood nor have been a part of that you have undertaken to heal.  Those wounds that I have been able to bare before you, you have not ridiculed nor have they driven you away from you.  Rather you have shown countless times that they have only inspired greater love from you.  It is that nakedness of soul that shows me that your love is enduring and as true as the love that Our Lord showed for us when he stretched out his arms and died on the cross.”

Nestled deep in the safety and warmth of true love, not the love of novels or movies but the love that endures beyond the grave, they slept.

I have been listening to a lot of talks by Christopher West lately.  He does several series explaining and expounding on Pope John Paul II’s Theology of the Body.  The concept is not only very deep but it is fascinating.  Along with listening to the talks and reading both Christopher West’s books and Pope John Paul’s books I have been doing a lot of digesting of the information.  Having the concepts of the Theology of the Body in my head tends to color everything else that goes in.

A couple of weeks ago when I was teaching my fifth grade religion class we were talking about the Church’s teaching on the Resurrection of the Body and how when the body is brought up to heaven it is believed that all defects will be made perfect.  Thus anyone who, for instance, has had an amputation will be whole again in the Resurrection.   One of my smart mouthed students asked if ugly girls would be pretty in the Resurrection.  I told him I didn’t know but that it wouldn’t matter one way or the other because the earthly concept of beauty wouldn’t be at issue in heaven. 

That conversation stayed in my head for a long time after and it sort of got washed through what I have been learning about the Theology of the Body.  The following is what I came up with, it is very rough, as my concept about what we are supposed to be shooting for here on earth.  This is what I feel is what naked without shame is supposed to be.

He stood before her naked except for a tentative smile.  The first time that they had been together since his hospitalization.  The time spent in bed has wrought havoc on his frame.  He had never been large before, she had always seen him as wiry, but now he was downright emaciated.  But she smiled back at him with a confidence that she didn’t feel and a reassurance that she knew he needed to see.

“What is it that you see when you look at me like this?” he asked.  “I’m not a young man anymore.”  She knew what he was referring to and suddenly she was on solid ground.  Words had never been a friend to him but they were something that she had always hid behind.  Now, rather than being a shield for her she was determined to make them into armour for him.

“When I look at you, I’ll tell you what I see.  I see the feet that walked the floor countless nights with our children, soothing their cries and calming their fears until they fell asleep.  The feet that trod the stairs up and down when I was unwell fetching whatever it was that you thought would ease my pain.  I see the knees that bent and straightened so many times, over and over day after day earning our daily bread without a word of complaint.  I see the back that lifted and carried whatever it was that needed to be carried in the service of those who called out for help.  I see the arms that held and hugged, shovelled, climbed, turned, twisted, and swung in strength.  I see the hands that are deceptively calloused from the hard work of service and amazingly gentle with the service of love.  I see the eyes that can reassure me with a look and make me smile with a twinkle.  I see the mouth that speaks words of discipline, love, tenderness and prayer. And I see the man that I married so many years ago, made in the image and likeness of the God that he serves with such faith, love and devotion.  That is what I see when I look at you standing there like that.”

With tears streaming down his face the man allowed his wife to help him dress for bed knowing that the words that she had spoken were true.  He knew that when he had occasion to be exposed to her in that way he need not fear for she saw in him what God had created and not what man would ridicule.  He knew he need never feel shame with her.