Doll Sleeping Bag Sewing Tutorial

---

---

Hunter stayed home from school today after a middle-of-the-night onset of a stomach bug. I was sorry for her to feel so bad, especially since the nighttime episode involved a very difficult hair-washing. But when the morning came, and she had slept 3 hours later than normal, and her stomach was feeling better, I think she and I both agreed that the nighttime upset was worth a day at home together.

After a movie, some crackers, and a morning of attempted work and chores, we finally ended up in the bonus room, which I am trying to dub the Creative Studio, on a Hunter-and-Will-style camp-out. Since Will has joined the Cub Scouts and has already had his first camp-out, sleeping bags are all the excitement in our house right now. Hunter grabbed her sleeping bag, and I came dragging her comforter to set up camp in the open space between the boxes, the ironing board, and the childrens’ library, which desperately needs shelving. I had full intention of napping on that fluffy pink comforter while Hunter did whatever you do when you pretend to camp out. She did not have that same intention.

Five minutes after I got nice and comfortable and nearly to snoozeland, she realized we were within arms distance of my sewing corner. And there was her brand new Janome Sew Mini sewing machine she got for her 6th birthday, perfectly boxed up and sitting amidst the boxes of fabric and craft supplies. And guess who didn’t bring a sleeping bag? The teddy bear. Before I knew it, Hunter had plopped the Janome box right in front of me and was picking tape off the box in preparation for making the sleeping bag she determined we would sew.

As I lay there, half awake, I kept making up excuses of why there was no way we could create a sleeping bag for her teddy bear right then and there, with no planning and no prep, and no idea how to use the new sewing machine. She wasn’t buying it. She knows we will attempt to make anything in our house, and the more complicated the better.

So out came the manual, which I, in my nerdiness, read cover to cover while she unwrapped the foot pedal and AC adapter. (I did, fortunately, get to read in the comfort of my camp-out palette.) The whole time I was thinking, am I really doing this? I can’t even think straight right now, much less think of how to concoct a sleeping bag zipper. And with a machine I’ve never used. I tried to convince her to think of something easier. Maybe something that didn’t need a pattern or a plan. Or something we already had a pattern for. Nope. The afternoon project was definitely going to be a sleeping bag.

We finally agreed on some striped flannel I had just 1/2 a yard of and some light pink flannel to line it. After a quick inspection of her sleeping bag, I determined that this really was quite a simple project. We folded the fabric over her teddy bear to get some dimensions, and then I just started cutting away. I found some quilt batting in my closet too, so it ended up being fluffy like a real sleeping bag, even though Hunter thought it needed to be flat.

I did the prep work, and Hunter did most of the sewing on the new Sew Mini. My new (old) Singer sewing machine table from Bill’s grandmother’s house turned out to be too high for Hunter to work at, so we moved her Mini down to an end table, which was the perfect height for her little self. I was extremely pleased with the Sew Mini, and I highly recommend it to anyone wanting to teach a child to sew or just wanting to learn themselves without a huge investment in a machine. It really sews beautifully, and it was fast and easy to learn. The simplicity does mean it lacks a few things that I’ve grown accustomed to on my Bernina Virtuosa, but the Sew Mini truly is a great little machine. I can already see Hunter putting the miles on it.

I’m going to write the sleeping bag up like a tutorial, though a quick and un-photographed one, because it truly was so super quick and easy to make, that nearly any novice seamstress should be able to make one in under an hour. I’m sure there are dozens of tutorials or patterns out there for this very thing, and there are a couple of things I would do differently if I wanted to take more time, but for a quick, one-hour little girl project, this is what I came up with.

P.S. That Singer sewing machine table?  It still has the original sewing machine in it.  Talk about Heir. Loom.  I’ve thought of shabby-chic-ing the table, but I just don’t know.  It’s decidedly full of character and deliciously brown and musty.

Doll Sleeping Bag Tutorial

Material

• 1/2 yard each of 2 coordinating fabrics
• 1/2 yard of quilt batting

Cutting Measurements

• 2 15″ x 22″ Rectangles of fabric, cut with the 15″ side going with the grain
• 1 15″ x 22″ Rectangle of quilt batting

Notions and Tools I Used

22″ Coordinating Zipper, Coordinating Thread, Scissors, Iron and Ironing Board, Seam-ripper, Straight Pins, Tape Measure, Fabric marking pen

Notes

This tutorial assumes a 1/2″ seam allowance, unless otherwise specified.  All seams should be back-stitched at beginning and end, and corners and curves should be cut.  The size could be completely varied; we made this for a teddy bear, and a small 12″ doll fit it perfectly.  It would need to be slightly larger for an American Girl doll or a standard 18″ doll.  This is such an easy project to custom fit.

This would make a great fat-quarter project!!

Instructions

1.  ROUND THE CORNERS After cutting your rectangles of fabric and batting, place the fabric right sides together, and lay on top of batting.  Cut the bottom two corners of all three layers in a rounded shape.

2. SEW TOGETHER With your fabric still right sides together, place the 3 layers on your machine with the fabric side up, and stitch around the entire outside edge, leaving a 3-4″ opening to turn.

3. TURN AND SEW CLOSED Trim the Seam Allowance, turn right side out, and press.  Edge-stitch opening closed.

4. QUILT With your fabric marking pen, draw some quilting lines on the inside of the sleeping bag in any desired pattern.  Our striped fabric came in handy with those lines, and we chose a typical comforter-type pattern of vertical lines that connect, alternating at the top and bottom.  I’m sure there’s a technical term for this.  Stitch along those lines.

5. INSERT THE ZIPPER This is the tricky part.  And the part I would do differently if this were a bigger project.  You’re going to do the zipper one side at a time–pin, sew, then pin, sew.  Place the bottom of the zipper in the center of the sleeping bag, and pin one side of it around the edge of the sleeping bag, with the sleeping bag edge on top of the zipper tape.  This is leaving the inside of the sleeping bag with an exposed zipper tape.  It’s not my usual perfection, but it’s for a doll who won’t know the difference.  Cut a few inches off the top of the zipper (with the zipper pull below where you are cutting).  Be sure to fold the end of the zipper tape down at the top edge before pinning it so your zipper doesn’t fly off.  I left 2 or 3 inches at the top of the sleeping bag zipper free.  Stitch the zipper tape to the sleeping bag with whatever sort of edge-stitch or top-stitch you want.  Repeat on the other side.  I had a regular type of zipper, so when I got to this part, I actually had to hand-stitch the end of the zipper tape.  This would be much easier with a zipper that separates completely (forgive my lack of technical terms here), but then you would have to keep putting it back together for your child.  I opted for the painful one-time hand-sewn method as opposed to the easy-to-insert zipper that creates constant requests to put the zipper back together.  If you get stuck on the zipper, I’m just sorry about it.  Google a zipper tutorial or call my mom.  She’s a zipper expert.

WARNING: If your son sees this, he’ll want one too.  For his teddy bear.  So will the neighborhood kids.  I’m just warning you.  Keep this one hidden.

Five Secrets to Becoming Self-Employed

---

---

I sat down to work on my running list I started yesterday, but it turned into something totally different.  Thank goodness the other list is still running, though, because my poor knees are telling me “NO running.” Bill and I went out for our first walk yesterday, the first, we thought, of many. I told him to put his running shoes on early, because we were hitting the pavement at 6:45 sharp after the bus pulled away. Wouldn’t you know, my knees have revolted against living in a two-story house that sits on a basement, and they are telling me no running is allowed. Not even walking up and down the hills. So how am I supposed to stay in shape?

I’m not complaining about my house, though. I love my house. I love it almost as much as I love my free lifestyle of working for myself and having hubby at home to help me with work and help me with the house. I’ve heard the neighbors wonder out loud how we could live this way–home all the time. I sensed a little bit of jealousy from one who couldn’t quite figure out how neither of us ever seem to go to work. I’m still grinning pretty big about it, because it is quite the dream come true. I still don’t know how we managed to take the leap of faith required to get here, but we’re sure as heck enjoying it. Bill talks to friends “back home” occasionally who ask if he has found a job yet. A job? Who’s looking? He says. We jest, but he is full-time handyman right now. And part-time website updater and marketing assistant. We have our hands quite full of job and house. But there is still plenty of time for swinging a golf club in the backyard midday or galavanting around town together looking for kitchen cabinet stain or having lunch at Edgar’s bakery.

Did you know that there are places in the world you can actually EAT OUTSIDE?!? Birmingham is one of them. You can eat lunch in the middle of the day in September, and be completely comfortable with the temperature, and the wind does not blow your entire plate of food off the balcony. Unbelievable. That balcony we ate on is sitting above Main Street. Main Street, which I think is in Hoover? is this fantabulous little shopping area with restaurants and salons and boutiques, and a couple of open storefronts for lease that are just begging me to hang an awning with my logo on it. One day, I told Bill, we will make so much money, we will HAVE to open a storefront so we don’t have to give so much money to the gubmint. But, that’s probably a long time from now. For now, we’ll be happy to just pay the bills.

And, in case you’re wondering, (and I know there are lots of wondering minds who’d like to know), there are some secrets to being able to quit your full-time job and venture into the world of self-employment. I’m not getting too personal here, but I think there are some important factors that have helped us get to this point, and maybe they could be helpful to others. None of them are earth-shattering or new. The most important ones are age-old principles found in God’s word.

1.Live on less than you make. Proverbs tells us that the “borrower is slave to the lender.”  So true, so true.  He is also a slave to his employer.  We admittedly still have ties to our mortgage lender, but other than that, we’re debt free.  If you live on less than you make long enough, you’ll eventually have some extra cash laying around to be a safety net should you ever want to stop being a slave.  But you don’t want to have to use that safety net.

2.  So become an expert at what you love to do, and find a way to make money with it. I won’t claim to be an expert at everything related to building websites, but I have learned how to provide exactly what most small businesses desire when it comes to establishing or refining their online presence.  I have spent several years perfecting my business model, and I’ve honed it to the point of being able to have confidence that there are enough businesses out there who need my services and will happily pay my fees to obtain them.  Do what you love, then build your business skills until everyone else loves what you do.

3. Set goals and establish ways to measure them. Three years before we went job-free, I set some very specific and measurable goals and wrote them down on paper.  Honestly?  They were my six-month goals.  After three years, I was halfway there.  I wasn’t quite ready to leave the nest, but the Lord’s continuous prodding left me flapping my wings and learning to fly, despite what I thought my success indicators showed.  If I had never set those goals, though, I wouldn’t have done what it took to reach them, and I wouldn’t have been ready when He said to “Fly.”

4. Don’t be afraid to do a 180 mid-stream. Owning your own business is a constant balancing act of managing supply and demand and figuring out what the market really wants from you. What I thought would work beautifully at first turned out not to be all that great.  It worked okay, but I could feel the undertow pulling me in a different direction.  I responded to that and changed things up to where they are today at SitesOnMain.com.  And I’m still learning the balance.  I changed things again after a year of doing business the new way, once I learned what worked and what needed tweaking.  Understanding the customer’s needs and balancing that to my needs requires thought and attention.  For right now, I think I’ve finally found my sweet spot.  But in a few months, I may see that it needs more tweaking.  I will do what works best for both me and my clients, in effort to bring the most amount of happiness to everyone in the equation.

5. The biggest thing required for making the leap is faith in God. Don’t be doing anything crazy if you’re not prepared and/or He hasn’t instructed you to in terms you feel very confident about.  Bill and I prayed for many months, really years, for direction in our lives about our decision.  We sought lots of wise counsel, we immersed ourselves daily in His word, we prayed and we prayed some more.  We knew He was calling us to something different, even though He really didn’t share with us all of His details.  (Not even some of the important ones.)  When we couldn’t see His plan, we did what we knew we were given to do, and we built on the foundation of the business goals we had set years before.  Years of daily, weekly, and monthly goal-setting and preparation, flexibility of adapting to market trends, and lots of head-banging hard work at the computer laid a firm foundation on which we laid our faith and prayers as God urged us to take the next step.

When I started making websites, it was merely experimental and driven by boredom.  I had no idea God would use it to be the springboard that launched my entire family into a new phase of life in a state none of us has ever lived.  There is no telling where God may lead my children because of our lives here, or even where He will lead me and Bill.  Every day is up for grabs; we are totally dependent on what He has for us.  If He turns the tide and tells us to do another 180, than that is what we will do.  For now we are relishing in the peace and delight of the departure from the 9 to 5.  Roll Tide.

A Running List. Roll Tide!

---

---

I’m bursting at the seams with things to tell you, partly because I haven’t blogged in so long, partly because I just read someone else’s blog who keeps a running list of things to share (most of them actually interesting or helpful, as opposed to my upcoming list of slightly boring details from my overly-stuffed brain), and partly because I have SO MUCH happening in my quiet little world.

So much, in fact, that I will probably have to break this post into a series.  Which would be good.  Then you would have something interesting (hopefully?) to read in the coming days, instead of once in a blue moon.

And speaking of blue moons, there is an absolutely amazing yellow moon glowing above the trees of the mountain view from my dormer window.  Mrs. B texted me to be sure I didn’t miss it as I put the kids to bed.

So the moon, and the view, and the so-fun-neighbor who texts me to see the moon and saves lids for my son’s lid collection kick off my totally random list of thoughts running, no sprinting through my mind.

Yes, you read that right.  My son has a lid collection.  During our move this summer, he started collecting lids from our water jugs, which we now no longer need, since the tap water here won’t give you gallbladder disease.  He had to collect other sorts of lids, and it quickly became a game to see how many and what kinds of lids he could collect.  He wants to be in the Guinness Book of World records one day for having the largest lid collection.  So Mrs. B joined the game and has definitely brought the most interesting lids of his collection.

Collecting.  Once again we are collecting Box Tops for Education.  My son’s school made like umpteen thousand dollars last year from Box Tops.  That is simply amazing.  I wish it would make them stop asking for donations from me of both money and extra teacher supplies.  But if that’s what it takes to have such out-of-this-world schools that my children attend, I’ll bring in the donations.  If you don’t mind, stick your box tops in an envelope and mail them to us.  I’ll feel better about not contributing to the classroom ELMO fund.

Since the parents are all broke now from sending in extra Clorox wipes and printer cartridges and math workbook cost supplements, the kids are collecting donations from everyone else for the Healthy Heart Fun Run.  This is Will’s first opportunity to go door-to-door flat out asking people for money to contribute to new technology equipment.  Let me just tell you right now that I HATE FUNDRAISERS.  With a passion.  I hated them when I was in school, and I hate them now, and the only thing I ever want to sell or buy for a fundraiser is Girl Scout cookies.  I love the Samoas and Thin Mints best of all.  But this fundraiser, like it or not, has been a character-building assignment for Will and for me.  Me–because I had to get off my rump and teach him through role-playing, something we rarely do.  And him–because he had to learn how to look someone in the eye, project his voice, speak confidently, make a request to an adult he may or may not know, and then gratefully thank them afterward.  This was a much-needed assignment for him, and he is very much wanting to raise $100 by this Friday so that he can attend the pizza party.  I, however, feel the tug of war between the current school fundraiser and the Cub Scout popcorn fundraiser that is coming, probably like next week.  The good thing about this one is that any amount is helpful.  Cub Scout popcorn, however, is expensive.  But it does at least give the purchaser something tangible in return.

Did I mention that my Eagle Scout husband managed to find himself as an Assistant Den Leader?  I don’t think he meant to do that, but he made a friend with another den leader who really needed help.  That friend’s son happens to be one of Will’s good friends at school.  He has a really sweet family of six.  So sweet, that they invited us to join them and several other couples for Game Day Saturday.

Ah, Game Day.  Saturday was our first Bama Game Day to attend.  Roll Tide.  Did you know that in Alabama, Saturdays during Football Season revolve around Game Day?  Bama flags fly, fans don crimson, and beer flows.  Almost noone watches the game alone.  And afterwards–the camping chairs come out to the lawns while the dogs grill and the police sit watching the main roads.

Shortly after our first Game Day, I “friended” my new friends from the party on facebook, and on one of the friend’s pages, I saw a youtube video of an ESPN Roll Tide commercial.  It taught me a lot about this Alabama culture.  Apparently “Roll Tide” is useful for any expression you need to use it for, not just to root on the home team.  Are you leavin’ your friends house? Roll tide.  Did you pass the test?  Roll Tide.  Is dinner ready?  Roll Tide.  But be sure and say it Bama-style: “Roll Tahd.”  Ha!  Love it.  Now Will tells me with a grin and a wink, “I love you, Mom!  Roll Tide.”

Ah, the many things I love about Alabama.  Sounds like a post for another day.  I guess I’ll let this list come to a close.  But come back tomorrow.  I’m typing the next one “raht now.”

Put-put-put

---

---

“Ka-POP!” I heard a while ago, as I will grilling some cheese sandwiches for our Sunday evening dinner.  A grin spread across my face as I remembered that familiar evening sound here in the neighborhood.  One evening after we first moved in, I heard a couple of loud pops that sort of sounded like a BB gun.  I was pretty sure one of the neighborhood kids must be shooting squirrels.  And then my husband mentioned it sounded like a small engine backfiring.  Sure enough, here came the B’s, tootling up the hill on their golf cart.

For a day or two I couldn’t quite figure out their mission.  They would go down the street in front of our house, up the trail on Mr. G’s property, and behind Mrs. C’s garden.  It was this mysterious little trip that had me so amused, I really didn’t want to find out what it was really all about.  I knew the mystique of it and the guessing game we played was far more interesting than reality would turn out to be, so I delighted in our not knowing.  But as luck would have it, I happened to be standing on the front porch one evening while dinner simmered on the stove, when down they zoomed through the green grass in our side yard, across the last few feet of our driveway and back onto the street.  I just took to laughing, and they glanced up and saw me up the hill on the big white porch waving at them.

Mr. B pulled the cart over and let Mrs. B out for a little jaunt up our sidewalk, holding Mrs. C’s mail.  I chuckled while she told me how they bought the golf cart when their kids were younger, and now that they are gone, the golf cart needs regular use to keep it from going bad.  So they just use it for their neighborhood errands.  That fact alone is delightful enough–it tells of a Southern lady that takes such good care of her neighbors, she has errands to run from house to house.

After our little visit, I knew that Mrs. B was the mail lady when neighbors are gone, and that Ms. C composts grass clippings–she “saves everything”.  Mrs. B let me know she would visit with Ms. C when next she saw her and would find out where she would like us to deposit our clippings for her compost pile.  I was glad about that, since we had let the first round of clippings compost themselves in the B’s borrowed trashcans (the waste management company took forever getting our cans to us.)  The smell was atrocious, and I was glad they had been away for a beach vacation during that little fiasco.

So now when I hear the put-put-put with an occasional “Ka-POP” of the golf cart, I look up through my kitchen window to see the B’s going out for their neighborhood stroll.  I smile inside and out knowing that my neighbors are all in the good and loving care of Mrs. B.

These Are the People

---

---

…in the neighborhood, in the neighborhood, in the neigh-bor-hoo-ood.  These are the people in the neighborhood.  They’re the people that you meet when you’re walking down the street.  They’re the people that you meet each daaaaaay……” Okay.  Thank you to Sesame Street for that lovely little jingle that taught us so much.  So can I just tell you how much I love my new neighborhood?

Perhaps one of the saddest things about leaving Altus was leaving my little corner of the world where I knew my neighbors, and they knew me, and they had watched my kids tricycle around the cul-de-sac–that circle where William learned to ride a bike, where we watched fireworks every Fourth of July, where we stood together with our neighbors watching the sky for tornadoes and hail, and where we brought Hunter home from the hospital for the first time.  So many wonderful things happened there, and our precious neighbors were there doing life right along with us.  That’s how it is with neighbors–they become a part of each other’s lives just by living it together.

I was most concerned about moving away from our comfortable little circle of neighbors.  You never know what your new neighborhood will be like.  Will there be someone creepy next door?  Will there be good wholesome friends for my kids down the street?  Will it be safe to go for evening walks?  You know how it is.  You find out every possible thing you can about the house you’re buying, but when it comes to researching the people in the neighborhood, there’s only so much you can do besides just flat out moving in and getting to know them.

When I prayed and asked God for this house, one of the things on my list was for him to give me a best friend that lived in the neighborhood.  Now, the jury’s still out on that, because I haven’t met everyone yet.  But I have totally fallen in love with all of the people that I have met in my neighborhood so far.  I have thought many times in my life that I want to write a book, and I have actually started one or two, but.  If I ever wanted to write a book about people, I would write it about these folks.

Bill and I marvel and laugh each day about the wonderful, funny, one-of-a-kind personalities of those that live around us.  I seriously feel like I am reading a book each time I listen to stories about Mr. G who thinks he owns the neighborhood, just because he used to own all the property it is built on, and each time I gaze out of the window over my kitchen sink to see Mr. B sitting in his nightly perch with his cold drink, and each time I notice Ms. C carefully tending her garden and deck.  Mr. D mows for Ms. C, Ms. C recycles for the whole bunch, since she “doesn’t get her money’s worth” of the recycling can, and Mrs. B knocks on my back door to remind me when it’s trash day or to offer to carry my empty water jugs to Ms. C’s blue bin.  It’s just like a story, I tell you.

I really hope to spend some time blogging in a little more detail about my neighborhood, because it is so delightful and full of humor.  We still have a few homegrown tomatoes and jalapenos left from Mr. S and Mrs. P who brought them over to us the week we moved in.  (We might be the only folks in B’ham who don’t have our own tomato garden.) And the day the firetrucks came (another story here, perhaps?), which was the same day the cable guy brought our internet and the moving crew came to help us with the last truck full, Mrs. L came to see if everything was alright, and to tell us that Mr. B is on staff at a local church and that the whole neighborhood are “Christian people, and most of us go to church.”  She was just precious.  I keep hoping to venture down to her “2-story brick around the corner” to visit soon.

So many fun details here are just a story waiting to be told.  If you are a lover of the Jan Karon Mitford series, then you know why I love my neighborhood.  It is it’s own Mitford.  Perhaps that’s why Mitford is so well-loved–it is a character study in small-town life.  I always thought Altus was a southwestern Mitford, and I could have written a book there too.

I don’t know if I’ll ever have time for a book, but I’ll aim for a blog post every now and then to give you a peek into my quaint little neighborhood.

Sweet Home Alabama

---

---

It is finally time for an official move report.  I posted on facebook a couple of weeks ago about our Wild Goose Chase.  We have chased the Wild Goose all the way to Birmingham, Alabama (the city of Helena to be exact), and we now sport “Sweet Home Alabama” tags on our vehicles.  It has been a wild ride, to be sure, and one that has been full of surprises–some good (like the blues band at the Mississippi Welcome Center and the lightning bugs sparkling at night) and some bad (like the UHaul’s inability to navigate the hill in our driveway and the a/c fan motor in our house that blew out, resulting in a visit from the fire department our first Monday morning here.)

Back to the South

Birmingham is a beautiful place, and the people have been warm and welcoming.  It feels strangely home to both Bill and me, despite the fact that neither of us have ever lived in the state of Alabama.  We both claim the deep south as home (I–Lousiana, and he–South Carolina), and we keep finding subtle yet definite signs that we are back “home”.  Things like fireflies, tomatoes grown by every neighbor, smocked dresses on little girls, barbecue chicken, front porches, flowers by the thousands, summer rain showers, trees towering above the rooftops, and beauty at every turn all join together to give us the distinct feeling of coming home.  Between our new house, which is much bigger than our old one, and the general Southern charm, we feel like we are on a perpetual vacation.

One of the first things we did, after unloading 2 moving truck loads up the hill and into the 2-story-on-a-basement home, was to purchase 2 white rocking chairs from Cracker Barrel so that we could fully enjoy our new Southern lifestyle.  No more folding out camping chairs in the driveway to watch the kids ride bikes in the baking sun.  No siree.  Now we watch them from our rockers on our porch up the hill, thank ya Lord.  And when all the fixer-upper projects are done, Bill will be making me a new swing for the other end of the porch, just like the one he built that we left for the new owners in Altus.  I look forward to completing the front porch atmosphere with hanging ferns and big pots of flowers.  Then I will truly think I died and went to heaven.

Our New Home

The home we found is quite a story of God’s provision.  Back in April I had taken an exploratory trip to Helena to verify our sense of God’s calling that we were to move this location.  I house-hunted with my mom after visiting the schools and meeting with principals, and I was hard-pressed to come up with the “right” home that suited all of our needs yet still stayed within our desired price range.  We put an offer in on a big dream-home-to-be that was unfinished, figuring we would finish it ourselves, as long as we could get it low enough.  We didn’t get it.  Someone bid higher.  Then, a week later, we put in a contract on a home a little smaller than our Altus house that was a beautiful home in a good neighborhood, even though it was a bit small.  T-H-R-E-E days before the closing, two crazy random things happened with the appraisal and survey, and we opted not to buy the home.  That left us with about 5 weeks to find a home, get a contract on the home, secure the mortgage, and close on it before our scheduled move date.  All from over 800 miles away.

So Bill set out for the second house-hunting journey, with a truckload of our belongings to put in a storage unit while he was at it.  While he was on the way, I began to pray, in a way that I had not before, truly calling out to God to open up His storehouse and provide for us a house that met our basic needs without requiring us to rent a storage unit or give up all of the things we love to do and have been gifted with.  Remember, we made this move at His divine direction, so we felt that He would surely provide what we need to accomplish this plan.

First of all, we plan to both work from home.  So we need an office space big enough for the both of us.  Second of all, we cook several meals a week, so we need a kitchen big enough to do more than just turn around in.  Third of all, we have a lot of stuff, which is because we do a lot of stuff, and we needed a place to keep it and do it.  Sewing, crafting, woodworking, welding, photography, you name it.  Skills require tools, tools require space, and we were both willing to give it all up to go where God leads.  But really?  Is that what He wanted for us?  “If that’s what You want, that’s what we’ll do.  But pleeeeze let us continue these gifts you have given us in this new place of service.  You own the cattle on a thousand hills, so you must surely have a house that will suit us and that we can afford.  And like, today…” This was part of my prayer.

Apparently God was listening.  Perhaps He had been waiting ALL ALONG for me to really start believing that He had a house pre-selected for us and to just flat out ask for it.  I didn’t just ask for the “right house”.  I spelled it out in a 35-point list of the features that I believed our house required to meet our needs.  As audacious as that sounds, there weren’t luxury items in those 35 things, like granite countertops or grandiose light fixtures.  The list was really pretty basic, with things like: a pantry; a dining room; a laundry room; a fourth bedroom or office; a workshop or basement etc.  I added a few extras like the front porch, fresh paint, and great neighbors, but I didn’t go overboard.  And I have to tell you, this house I am sitting in, complete with 33 things from that list, came on the market the DAY Bill traveled to Helena to look for houses.  It was a foreclosure, so it had the space we really needed all packed in to the budget we had allotted.  I still have to pinch myself to find out if it’s for real.

Not only did God provide for us this great house, He put it right in the middle of tons of sweet of neighbors, in the school district we wanted, and with freshly-painted trim, doors, walls, new carpet and hardwood floors on the main.  Now, we have had plenty of work to do to bring the rest of the house up to par, but the space is here, and the house is darling and perfectly situated on the top of a hill with a mountainous view.

Project People

I distinctly remember writing one of my very first blog articles, some eight years ago, about the fact that I am not a Project Person.  Well, folks, I wasn’t then, but after 11 years of being married to Bill McKelvey, I have to suck it up and claim myself as a project person.  It took me a long time to admit it, but I have completely become what I thought I would never be.  (Never say never…)  So, this house is perfect for us project people.  Some of Bill’s projects thus far have included: replacing the condensate pump, running a gas line to the dryer, rebuilding several toilets, removing the broken storm door, servicing air conditioners, replacing the fan motor on an a/c, and installing a gazillion blinds.  My projects?  Scrubbing tile, cleaning windows, painting inside stinky cabinets (one of those not-so-nice surprises), and of course unpacking 5,000 boxes.  There’s a whole lot of overspray left over from the painting crew, so we have some elbow grease yet to expend in places we wouldn’t have realized.  And several appliance installations await, since the appliances were complete bombs.

Needless to say, it’s been a big-time challenge to move into a house needing so much work, but we have felt so very grateful to have this house to work on, that we have enjoyed most every minute of it.

Looking Forward

We visited a big, fancy church today.  We didn’t realize that’s what it was–we just sort of took a stab at where to visit.  It turned out to be wonderfully welcoming, and the people took us right in and helped every member of our family get connected right off the bat.  It is very odd to answer the questions of what brought us to Birmingham, seeing as how we don’t yet really know, other than that God led us here and we like it.  The pastor’s sermon had three main points–God is Good, God is Great, and God is Gracious.  And the statement I took home was that God will give us the grace to do the next right thing that He has called us to do.

God called us to move to Alabama.  It has been a moment by moment faith journey.  Uncomfortable? Yes.  Uncertain? Absolutely.  Scary?  A little.  But God is good.  And He has the power to work His grace throughout our lives.  That’s all I know at this moment. The next right thing for me to do is to go to bed.  And the next right thing after that, besides take care of my family, is to paint some stinky cabinets.  And sooner or later, He will reveal the next right thing for us to do, that will hopefully have a paycheck attached to it.  Until then, we have only to trust.

Chasing the Wild Goose

---

---

Where’s the Beef?

---

---

According to the meat market employees, we’re “waiting for our truck to come in.”  Yeah, aren’t we all, buddy?  With more snow falling today, I’m not feeling too hopeful.  Unfortunately, empty shelves aren’t an unusual sight in our small-town Wal-mart.  But this.  This has potential for becoming a real situation.  Good thing it’s gonna warm up to 22º today!  If the roads don’t clear from here to civilization, we may end up eating Tuna Fish and Spaghetti O’s next week.

I jest, because I am prepared.  But the hospital has gone four days without a truck.  You can only get creative for so long.  Let’s be thankful this storm is on its way out!

How to Make Gravy from a Roux

---

---

Until today, I’ve never successfully made home-cooked gravy.  I know, it’s a shame.  A perfectly burned roux is an absolute staple in any Louisiana kitchen.  I watched my mom cook it every Thanksgiving and Christmas of my entire childhood life, and I even stirred it for her.  She TAUGHT me how to make a roux.  She also wrote me a tutorial on it after I got married so I could cook yummy gravy for my sweet husband.  Yet still, I’ve been scared to death to do it.  It seems to go against the grain of cooking to intentionally burn something.  I tried making gravy once and couldn’t get it to turn out right, so I’ve pretty much given up on it.  But this Thanksgiving, I have no choice.

Some sweet friends of ours invited us to join them for Thanksgiving dinner.  We have shared several turkey days with them since living in Oklahoma, and we always look forward to the fun times and good food.  It just so happens that this friend was my son’s first grade teacher.  And her close friend, whose family will also be there this year, is my daughter’s kindergarten teacher.  Since the hostess is coming off of her daughter’s wedding, JUST LAST WEEKEND, I offered to cook the turkey.  Piece of cake.  A turkey.  I cook a delicious gourmet turkey straight from a Southern Living Annual called Citrus-Rosemary Turkey breast.  (Except I adapt it for a large turkey.) And then she asked if I’d be bringing the gravy too.  What?  The gravy?  I stammered a bit and then recognized it was certainly my job to bring the gravy if I was bringing the bird.  Glad she mentioned it!  We may have been gravy-less.

I knew that worse come to worst, I could call my mom and let her talk me through.  She makes the perfect gravy (that I always passed by for the packet of gravy my sister and I preferred!?!).  I remembered that my sis raved about her South Louisiana style gravy last Christmas.  She had talked about using some sort of flowery spice to make it cook a lot more quickly.  So I texted her yesterday to get the low down.  Nevermind that I thought about this DAYS ago and could have been better prepared.  I texted her from the spice aisle of wally world the very day before Thanksgiving, knowing she would be at work and unable to respond.  I didn’t hear back from her until later in the day, but she came through for me and I found the seasoning sauce at another local grocer.  For all I know wally carries it and I was just looking in the wrong place!

I decided to share her gravy method with you, straight in the form of our text conversation.  It’s definitely more fun that way.  After I give you the scoop on the gravy, I’ll tell you about our near-disaster with the bird itself.  I’m still holding my breath that there’s not a disaster with the gravy, since it’s still simmering.

Holly Unplugged: Making a Roux

How to Make a Gravy from a Roux

me: Holly. What is that magic ingredient you use to make gravy?

Holly: Like a roux or the packet of gravy? If it’s a roux it’s kitchen bouquet.

me. Hey! a roux. I knew it was something floral sounding. Actually thought of the word bouquet when i was looking at spices. They didn’t have that. need instructions

Holly: The only thing kitchen bouquet does is gives it the burnt flavor without actually spending time to burn it. Really not necessary if you can’t find it. Equal portions of flour and oil, whisk together, med heat, once it’s whisked together don’t stir again till it’s bubbling to give it time to brown. After it’s the color you want add water till it’s the correct consistency then salt pepper shake of garlic salt, zatarans till it tastes right and always a dripping of whatever meat your using.

me: Thanks!! I am making turkey and gravy for 14. How much flour/oil would u start with

Holly: Oh wow! Well prolly about 1/4 cup of each but the key is to use a pot that’s a decent size around cuz it will never brown if it’s not spread out enough in the pot. Don’t use a skillet cuz you can’t add water to it. 1/4 cup will make a ton of gravy. And don’t be scared to actually let the flour/oil burn cuz that’s what gravy is.

me: K. Thanks big time.

me: Wish you could come show me how. Going to attic for christmas tree…

Holly: Oh I’d love to! Be sure and call me if you have trouble and I’ll walk you thru it. I’ve made every possible kitchen booboo ever.

Holly: Also you may wanna make it tonite cuz it is a little time consuming.

me: Oh I will then. So it rewarms ok then? just found the kb spice. grocery store is holding it for me.

Holly: Yeah it rewarms fine…and you can wait till you heat it tomorrow to add the meat drippings but if you use kb you need that when you first make it. And the kb does save time.

me: Thanks a billion for your advice.

Holly: You’re welcome!

me: I love you!!

Holly: I love you too!

Holly: Oh heather I meant to tell you to use only a tiny drop of kb

me: I wondered. Would have way over done it.

Holly: You put it after you let the flour/oil brown for a couple of mins and then whisk it really quickly and it will clump up the flour/oil mixture. That’s when you add the water.

And that was the end of our conversation.  I was digging through boxes of greenery after that.  So, if you haven’t made your gravy yet, go for the gusto and make one from a roux!

Family Portraits 2010

---

---

by Jenni Lane Photography