Let it Snow, the tutorial & The Blessings of Family.

I planned to do my next post on Callaway Gardens Fantasy in Lights but this is more time sensitive. [The Fantasy in Lights post is next]

I love a flocked Christmas tree, maybe it's because I can count on my hands great snowfalls in my lifetime. I mean beautiful, glistening snows, making home look like a Normal Rockwell portrait.

I have purchased one single, beautiful flocked tree over the thirty-six years Don and I have been married. Mostly due to the fact he's one of the thriftiest men God ever breathed breath into.. but I can't blame him, $100 is too much to pay for a tree. [the average price in our area] 
Because I love flocked trees so much, I wanted to find a better option. I tried several DIY options and never like the end result. UNTIL NOW... I found a blog (whose name has slipped my mind) but it's about this. 

This is the BEST tree flock product ever.
I wanted something that looks real, costs less and stays on.  You can purchase it at amazon. I'm a Prime member and mine arrived in two days, free shipping. Love that Amazon Prime! 

Amazon Sno Flock HERE  This is the 2lb size, enough to flock a 7 ft tree fairly well. Also available in 1# and 5#.  I purchased 5# because I was looking for a blizzard! This is a professional product like nurseries and florists use. 

All you need to apply the flocking is water, a new spray bottle, drop cloths and a kitchen sifter.  [CAUTION: It is recommended to wear a mask while applying simply because the particles are so tiny. They are cotton however and besides adhesive, have nothing remotely toxic in them]  The adhesive is something akin to Elmers glue. There is absolutely NO SMELL while applying or after drying. I have asthma and covered my nose and mouth with a mask. No problems whatsoever. 

I decided the best option was to set the tree up in the living room, where it would be decorated for the holidays. Time for drop cloths which I purchased at the local big box story for $3.67 for three. 

After spreading the drop cloths, I attached a few ends about 2-3 feet high to catch over-sifting and keep the mess to a minimum. I will warn you, whatever you are wearing on your feet should be washable. My house slippers began sticking to the drop cloths after a while.
What my set up looked like. . .  I taped the drop cloths to the backs of furniture pieces and to window trim to make a "pool" for flocking with the tree in the middle. I taped two drop clothes together and it nearly covered my living room. (I saved the third drop cloth for the after finished drying time) Then it was time to get busy. 

You can go to the website [seasonsreflections.com] for Sno Flock and follow the directions for application. I used two of their methods of application and one of my own, to achieve the

look I desired. I wanted somewhere between a snow-covered wonderland and a blizzard.

Here's what you do: Spray a few branches at a time with water and sift the flock over the branch. Lightly at first and I advise stepping back after you get a section done and eyeball it. See how it looks. That would be method #1 application. 
Method #2 involves some coordination.. Spray your branches with water, begin sifting and while sifting lightly mist the flock (falling from the sifter) onto the tree. It gives a wind blown look. As if snow was whisked into your tree by the brisk winter wind. 

**You will need to go back and mist the branches you've completed- not saturate them, just mist to set the adhesive.  This activates the adhesive to adhere better to the branches and needles. It takes a full 24 hours for a 7.5 foot tree to dry. [It was raining outside and mine still dried in 14 hrs] It is recommended to wait until your tree is fully dried to allow good adhesion before applying lights and ornaments. Waiting is not my strong suit but I'm doing it. 

Here's my "Before"

Here's the "after"... ta-daa!  Isn't it lovely?  I was thrilled as I trotted off to bed, satisfied it was easier to apply than I had first thought. Oh, and #3 application, I almost forgot. I stood on a step ladder to distribute the sno flock on the very top branches. When my sifter got really low, before I refilled it, I would hold it "sling shot" fashion and let it go. Let the snow fall where it may.. it ended up giving me a really authentic application. As you sift you discover these little sparkly, slightly larger snow flakes at the bottom of your sifter. Ah, the icing on the cake! These little sparklers have a "mother of pearl" opalescence to them. They are the last ones you apply and best done by hand. *mist lightly on the tips of your tree and sprinkle them strategically where you wish. I hope you can see the shine here in the close up, it's hard to capture in a photo but it's there and it's a beautiful finish. 

I simply rolled my drop cloths up toward the tree and carefully eased each leg of my stand up to get them out. Rolled with all the mess inside and disposed in the trash. I placed the third and clean one under the tree to catch any adhesive drips overnight. I found a couple the next morning.

My review of this product- it gets an A+ for ease of application, simplicity and beauty. The price is nothing to sneeze at either. By purchasing the 5# at $39.95 I have enough to do an entire other tree (If I like).  For reference, you could easily do a 5-6 foot slim tree with 1# and if you were careful, a 7.5 ft tree with 2# (if you want a light snow effect)
I plan to save mine for touch-ups next year AND add some more flocking on my other decorations around our home. 

My only vivid childhood snow memory, living in the Southern U.S.- I could not have been more than seven years old, when we had a massive snow. It's not unusual to have 100 degrees in the summer but snow in Alabama? Not often and certainly nothing like the several feet we got that winter.
Looking back, I'm sure my mother did not enjoy it as much as we children. We had a large metal arm that swung out over the fire in the fireplace that was hardly ever used. My daddy built that fireplace and I guess added the arm just in case. It came in handy for holding pots for cooking over the fire and his old perculator coffee pot. [there were NO generators]

We had a "sleeper sofa" in the living room and the dining room and kitchen had a low and half wall. It was like many open plan homes of today. Mama piled all the blankets into the living room, moved the furniture back and daddy brought mattresses to the floor. They put all the food from the refrigerator out in the snow and buried it. The power was off for days, I'm not sure how many but I remember mama cooking on that fireplace for several nights. We sat at the table and ate "One pot" meals she cooked over the fire, probably the best meals I had ever eaten. I slept beside her in front of the fire on that sleeper sofa with daddy and the boys on mattresses on the floor. Daddy worked hard at work and it was a joy not lost on my brothers and I, to have him home. Captive, just for us. We all five played monopoly, rook and Crant (my brother closest in age to me) even played Candyland with me. We read stories and poems from the Childcraft and Encyclopedia [It's where we got our information when you could not get to the library. You know, before "google"]
I remember the look on my mothers face when I asked "can we turn the lights back off, Mama" after Alabama Power Co finally managed to get them back on? 

While mama was likely thinking of the piles of dirty laundry, taking a hot bath and cooking on her stove- I was thinking, don't go. Stay and play a little longer. Take time to laugh with me again. Pile up together and read another book. Let's fall asleep in front of the fire.
I want to eat out of bowls sitting on a quilt in front of the fireplace with my brothers, laugh again while daddy and mama tell stories of their childhoods. Those days are long gone. I am the old one now and my perspective has changed over the years and is now different yet still the same. 

While you mark all the links to the perfect gifts, hustle to get the new ipad, make sure your family gets their every desire...  All that stuff. It's not important, really it isn't.

My hope for the best holiday season Bowls of soup by the fire, grandchildren giggles and belly laughs, reading, listening to their dreams, telling stories from long ago. To be thankful for what God has allowed and so freely given, for the birth of a Savior. Share your time and most of all, the love of Christ. It really is the best gift.  

I bake a little..

Is there anything better when you're a child than waking up to the smell of cake in the oven? If there is, I can't think of it. My mother was a morning person, as am I, and she would get up very early and begin her holiday baking.
I'll just call it right here. I talked all the time, I mean ALL the time. I suppose she felt it necessary to rise early to get everything measured and mixed before I woke up. I was always pretty upset but I got over it as soon as she presented me with the beaters.

This would explain why baking has always been my constant. When life is good- I bake, when life gets hard- I bake. Anxious? you guessed it. The experience of moving through the recipe tweaking flavors or technique is cathartic for me. It takes me to the kitchen table of my childhood helping mama make a sour cream pound cake or a pie crust. Being schooled on the importance of the best ingredients you could get your hands on, not skipping steps and intricately measuring everything. I may be one of the few people that enjoy sifting flour. My mother relished the perfect tender crumb on the sides of that cake, while maintaining a light crunch on the top. If you ever had Sour Cream Pound Cake from Mary Lou, you know what I'm talking about.
I find great satisfaction in continuing family traditions. Our children continue the same traditions. My daughter-in-law, Alisha makes the best Sweet potato pie, while my Danielle makes superior cookies and scones, Patrick makes a mean pancake from a scratch recipe.

 Almost 40 years ago I took my first "cake and candy" class. I'm not trying to toot my own horn but I found something I was truly good at.  I remember thinking, "these are my people."
Fast forward a few years and life changed as it has a way of doing. I no longer had time to bake for others. I put my baking on the shelf for a while, waiting only for family birthdays and celebrations to whip up something marvelous.  Strangely, I am not a sweet fanatic. I'd rather have a piece of cornbread.

[Old Fashioned Spice Cake with praline pecan filling & Brown Sugar buttercream]

In the last year I have picked my cake tools up again and taken some classes to refresh my skill set. I am having a BLAST. I remember so many times hearing my mother say, "How did I have time to hold down a full time job?"  ... and now I understand. 

[Gum paste roses for a cake top]

I'm also a sales rep for an amazing Jewelry Designer. [Jewelry blog post coming soon] I love our eSBe Designs company and everyone I get to work with. There's my husband of almost 37 years, children, grandchildren, dogs, horses and fabulous girl friends! [Not necessarily in that order] This is life now and it's wonderful.

I had a hard time coming up with a name for my baking. I almost called myself "Cake Nazi" because I do not deal with whiners well. It would have been something like this, except "No Cake for You!"

Our babies call me Honey, that proved difficult as well as most sounded like stripper names but I settled on Honey's Cakes. 

To clarify, if you think the cake from the big box store is the best you've had in a while, my cakes are probably not for you. I buy fresh local eggs and pecans, make my own vanilla extract, buy the best butter and flours available. I use old family recipes along side new versions I've toiled over, until I perfected them.

[A little Halloween fellow I made. Marbled fondant over Red velvet. The boys loved it!]

If you want a really good tasting cake, I will provide you with a delicious homemade confection. It will transport you to a place in childhood when all was good with the world, memories of your grandmothers German Chocolate Cake at Sunday dinners. Dinner on the grounds at church, when you were sure to grab a piece of Mrs Vines Coconut cake before it disappeared.

I will make you a Espresso Chocolate cake covered in my Sweet Chocolate buttercream topped with Chocolate Ganache. Maybe a white sponge cake with lemon or apricot filling that balance the sweetness of the Vanilla buttercream? I make Red Velvet cake, Strawberry, Chocolate, Sour Cream Pound Cake, Almond Cake, Oatmeal Cake, Vanilla Sponge [excellent choice for weddings] and Italian Creme to name a few. I decorate birthday cakes as well. American buttercream is a favorite but there are other options as well- Italian meringue, cream cheese, Seven Minute and more.

I make Wedding Cakes and cupcakes. Yes, if you want a beautiful & great tasting homemade cake, I can do it. I will deliver local for a fee. My Thanksgiving deadline has passed but you can order for Christmas now. I'm offering $5 off a "Specialty" cake ordered by December 2nd.  Payment is up front on this offer. *Offer does not include standard cakes- vanilla, strawberry or chocolate.

Thank you mama and Aunt Lora, Aunt Ola and Aunt Jim. You taught me well and I'm passing it along.  Yes, I bake a little.

The $600 Dogwood tree & the little shovel.

Soon, we will place our home on the market. It's been the plan for about six years now, since we brought the horses home from my niece's forty acres. I simply longed to breathe them in everyday. I'm pretty sure it brings my blood pressure down a few points. We have never been in a hurry, waiting on the real estate market to improve. People say, "you haven't built that house yet?" Which begs the question, why are we always in a hurry?

I'm excited about the prospect of building another home. I will trade my view of the lake in the morning, still and calm, for a view of the horses against the backdrop of the woods where we ride. There are homes there and neighbors we look forward to getting to know better.
Still, it will be a little sad.  Our grandchildren know this house, it will be their early memories of us.  The Easter egg hunts, hide-and-seek among the trees, running in the sprinklers and sitting on the screen porch reading while summer rains fall.  I'm a smidge sentimental. [For Sale - Coming Soon]

While living in the first home we built when our children were small, I begged for a sweet dogwood tree to be saved from the middle of the lot before the basement was dug. It was a beautiful little dogwood, about eight feet with lovely bark and crooked branches. After much begging, Don prepped the corner of the yard. It needed to catch water runoff better, it sloped too quickly. He lay a partial brick wall in a nice half circle and I amended the soil to the perfect mix. [Mama helped oversee this project and helped me plant the Irises]
He moved that tree to the front yard with a rented bobcat. For the duration of the time we lived there, I adored that beautiful tree. Each spring it's white blooms showed out with irises from our childhood home all around it, beaming like a proud child at their mothers feet.
I drive by that tree occasionally, some thirty years later, now in it's senior years with it's large, draping branches still beautifully sets off the corner of the yard, just as I envisioned.  Don sarcastically refers to it as "the $600 tree".

I love forsythia, yellow bells we call them in the South. They came from my grandfathers property originally and grew at our childhood home. I moved several to each home we've built through the years. When my husband gazes out at the yard after it's edged and cut, I know he's thinking about those shrubs he will have to move.  ... and he will.  He always does.
I can't think about the shrubs and flowers without thinking of mama, she always carried a small shovel in the trunk of her car. Just in case, she found herself in the presence of something fabulous in her travels. She once brought me the most beautiful little Hemlock tree from Tennessee. It was about three feet tall and Don planted it for me.  I believe it was about six feet or more when he carefully moved it. [NO, you cannot take it in the back of the truck, the wind will beat it to death]
I tell you this man loves me. He set it in the edge of the woods next to the spot we chose for our home, on the point, overlooking the Warrior River. I would be able to see it out the nine foot expanse of windows in the bedroom, gazing west around the bend in the big river.  Sadly, It was not to be though. A power truck feeding our power up the mountain backed over it and completely destroyed the tree, now well over eight feet tall. The man apologized and told us to turn it in to Alabama Power and they would pay for another tree. Another tree?!  I cried like a baby.
I'm already planning what I will move to the farm- has to be out of reach of the horses and protected while we build. There are Forsythia, Sweet William and Almond shrubs. Don't forget the Irises! There's an ongoing argument between Don and I about the Japanese maple he paid a pretty penny for and the Mock Orange (Philadelphus or English Dogwood) dug up from outside my childhood bedroom. You can probably guess which one I value and will be moved.
My daughters home has shrubs taken from her grandmothers and I am choosing something to move in the spring to our son's new home for his three children.

I believe we had the best world, shielded from adult thoughts, actions and problems, we were allowed to be children. The world is often cruel but there is also beauty everywhere and a need to carry parts of the past forward. The telling of childhood memories and laughter, of perseverance and determination, of hard work and rewards, of love and forgiveness. It flows through the blood of those children as it does in my brothers and I. 

I will make sure they have a piece of the past as they go into the future. They all have a weird, quirky sense of humor and are easily amused. From my mothers little carved wooden box daddy gave her to the wooden dough bowl that was my husbands grandmother's. Our children will carry the past with them, I owe it to them.

Now, I need a little shovel.

Salt. Sprinkle a little over your friends.

This is something I jotted down on a February morning.
I hear the birds sing as the rain falls softly outside my bedroom window. I watch as the drops break the surface of the lake, there's a crisp chill in the air. Will you look at that? The Yellow Bells (Forsythia) are starting to bloom.
I wipe the sleep from my eyes and visions of hot coffee began to flood my head. I hate to admit, I have turned into one of those people- I choose not to function until I've had my coffee. Then, before my first sip, God gave me something. Salt. Yes, just salt. "What?" The thought leaves me as I shuffle out of bed... 

  SHUFFLE verb shuf·fle \ˈshə-fəl\  : to slide your feet along the ground or back and forth without lifting them completely. [It's what happens as you get older and especially before coffee.]

I'm ashamed to say I discounted those words at first, so much to do today.  As I go about my morning I ponder, "was that from God or simply a word of my own choosing?" We over-thinkers do that, you know. We run things through our head front and back, back and front...
I find myself in the front yard as the puppy does his business and I keep feeling this word.  Salt.

I keep hearing, "salt". [Are we out of salt? Do I need to buy salt, what?] I half expect to see a text message that says simply, Salt. God.

As my brain absorbs more coffee and I'm able to enjoy my morning devotion, which by the way, is NOT about salt. 

Or is it? 

I begin reading about that "salt" thing, because honestly it's not going away until I do.  I open my Bible and without reference checking or anything, I find myself in Matthew.  I've read this at least one hundred times but today in the fifth chapter it SMACKS me in the head! (13)You are the salt of the earth; but if the salt has become tasteless, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled under foot by men. (14)You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden…

On to the gospel of Mark. 9:50
"Salt is good, but if it loses its saltiness, how can you make it salty again? Have salt among yourselves, and be at peace with each other."
Then from the same book of Leviticus, the subject of today's devotion comes,

Leviticus 2:13 And every oblation of your meat offering shall you season with salt…  While the sacrifices of Leviticus [Thank you Lysa Terkeurst] do not apply to me today, the message still does.

By now we are all loathing this election year,right?
If I could move into the dark recesses of the world and not hear all the mud slinging, the bickering, divisiveness, the lies and half truths, promises and deceptions, tension with friends approaching from a different viewpoint..   well, I would.
I would rather simply avoid the unpleasant things of life these days and move on. I think to myself. Politicians, what a horrible, selfish lot.  Wait..   [stillness & silence surround me. Tears well and overflow.] 

Oh Father.. when did it happen? When did I give up? When did I become so calloused and tasteless?  At some point along the way, I allowed myself  to become every "less" I can think of. . .  "trampled underfoot by men."
It's so tiring Lord, there's so much evil in the world, so much disdain for you. I can't even watch the news most nights. I can't read about another teacher having sex with a student, I just can't!
Instead of allowing you to heal me, I shut down, closed myself off... became tasteless.

You saved me, rescued me long ago, I was 9 years old. You should by all accounts these days, throw me aside based on my actions. But just as my earthly daddy would scoop me up and hold me tight, make my world right again and assure me I was going to be fine- You God, hold me upright, gently correct and assure me.   Your desire to hold me close is palpable.

"Many are the plans in a person's heart, but it is the LORD's purpose that prevails." Proverbs 19:21  Wow..  Abba Father, just wow. It is a profoundly humbling feeling to know I am so important to You. In all my imperfection You love me right where I am. I'm feeling the salt.

Several months ago and after I had this experience, someone helped me see myself more clearly and helped me see myself as God sees me. [Thank you Kinsley. God is using you in a mighty way]
I have released all the fear, all the failures, all the disappointments to Him. I feel His love and caressing touch all day. There is indeed, a song in my heart. I pray I never become complacent again.
Today, this day the Lord has made. Today, I'm salty.

The terrible horrible very bad day

It was a beautiful Sunday in spring.
The day started out well enough, there was hot coffee and sunshine.  If you haven't looked outside lately though, there's this

I need a shirt that says "too many smells"
Let's just say there are many 'triggers' for my asthma this time of year. Only discovered less than three years ago I have asthma, since then it's been a learning curve. What sets me off, what doesn't, how many times I can wheeze before I get dizzy? I travel with my trusty rescue inhaler 24/7.  I have one particular bad trigger.. perfume.  Not your average light scent lilting through the room smell but those "grandmother-with-the-deep-red-lipstick, Jungle Gardenia kind of smells" ... which makes me think, what if a burglar broke in doused in heavy perfume? I would be completely powerless. Not pertinent to the story but important to note. 

Sunday morning, we walk in and say hello to friends as we make our way to the fourth row from the back [not the very back row or the second.. I'm a progressive Baptist] We settle in, purse under my feet. I locate two ink pens in my purse (before he has the chance to ask for one) because I'm nothing if not efficient. Reading glasses at the ready and Bible open in the chair beside me. I decide it's all correctly arranged and notice my little setup could probably be in Southern Living magazine.. all I need is a small vase of flowers and a couple throw pillows. 

 Just as I get it all as I like it, my senses alert me to something peculiar.. my right eye is burning... Oh no. My throat gets that familiar itchy feeling, my chest tightens.. The music progresses and I'm trying my best to get to a place of personal worship but it's really hard when you feel like you just walked into a carpet warehouse.  All that new carpet burning your throat, your eyes begin to water.. must. have. fresh. air.  I begin to cough.. [God love her] that one lady, ALWAYS cuts her eyes at me like "can't you be still & quiet?"  I silently think, she's probably the one wearing the napalm. 

Quietly, I tell my husband, "I have to move" and he gives me that look "really?" [he begins fanning me as if I'm overheated] "I'm choking here, Cowboy. I don't think fanning is the answer.  

I gather my goods and after making a couple glances to see who is close.  

Oops, can't sit by her, God love her. Nope, her either-I wasn't aware they still made Aqua net.) I spot two seats back and to the left. Husband follows, looking irritated, as if it's my fault I can't breath?! We settle in and I take a deep breath. He looks at me waiting for the approval cue. Yes, we can stay. I smell nothing, absolutely nothing. Wait. . . did I put on deodorant this morning? I should at least be able to smell my own "Sporty scent" deodorant, right?  I turn to my husband, 

Psstt...  do I smell?

What? I don't smell anything, don't tell me we have to move again.
No no, do I smell bad?
Why would you smell bad?
Oh, never mind.

I have doused my eyes thoroughly with eye drops, I'm beginning to perspire, I hit my inhaler and the burning has subsided a bit. I'm sure no one can tell I'm having an issue this morning. 

The Pastor has begun his sermon as a young couple slip in late trying not to be noticed, they take their seats a couple rows behind us. Before long, "too many smells" begin to permeate the space around me like a cloud. For the love of all that's good, it's happening again.
By the time we make it to the car, I have a pounding headache, I'm wheezing like I've climbed Mount Everest and I'm getting stuffy.  I think maybe people think I'm not friendly but I'm simply escaping the smells. I will spend the afternoon with a massive headache, stuffy nose, wheezing and generally a doctor appointment the next day.
I hit the rescue inhaler a couple times more and turn the car air on full blast at my face, waiting for the napalm smell to disappear from my clothing. Let me say, it's not those precious people I go to church with, it's me. I'm the faulty one. I don't know why? I played in the dirt as a child, had my vaccinations and ate most of my vegetables. It is part of my life now.
As we back out of our parking spot without missing a beat, this man who can't remember what he ate for breakfast says, I didn't know they still made Aqua net.