Divorce and the end of the Story

 Pretty down today. Another couple getting divorced at 60. After a lifetime of marriage. Just counting the poeple I know, and their families, these stories are getting more frequent, at least in my hearing. It hurts too much. Christian families too. Who made it decades together, before deciding now was the moment to call it quits.

How did we get here?

Our narrative is wrong.

The idea that suffering (and sin in our spouse) is a reason to end it. Somehow, by divorcing (even at 60) is standing up for yourself. Standing up for your grandchildren. Standing up for women or something. Somehow the divorce is making sure that everything wrong that the spouse has done is not forgotten Refusing to be codependent, not putting up with it. Now, somehow sticking it to the man. Somehow standing up for truth. Setting the record right, in a walk out protest.

And its basically setting off a bomb in our families, grown children's marriages shaken or broken or never started. Even the “thriving, stable” kids are coping, having trouble sleeping at night. Joy robbed from beautiful days of young motherhood, brooding about the emotional angst in their birth family. Sides taken for and against. What should be a fortress, torn apart in civil war. Separation is just that---a separation. A vacuum felt even in a grey-haired child's soul.

So much is lost. So much is destroyed

Our meta-narrative we chart reality onto, is all twisted up and backwards.

This divorce and remarriage archetype is but one finger of the hand. The hand is wrong. A world based in what ought to be, and not what is.

 That by protest, that by breaking what is left, we will somehow make the world anew, into what ought to be. Insisting on living in a world where power is never abused, where love is always healthy, where relatives only ever speak kind nontoxic words, where everything is as it should be. But this world exists only inside our own heads. Because the family reunions are shattered and never happen, people being cut off for mental health reasons. We aren't creating a better world. We are destroying what scraps of this one that we have left.

What is the narrative, the pattern that was given to us by a strange middle-eastern God, demanding absolute purity, demanding exactly how the world should be?

We failed. We broke the rules, broke the contract, trashed the place, ran up debts, and cheated on Him.

And He didn't cut us off.

He came anyway.

And then we killed Him.

Through suffering, through pain, through torture, comes the triumphant ending of the story. Through the crucifixion, through the dark night of doubt on saturday with a dead God, then comes Sunday morning. He comes, scarred and alive, to tell His bride that her debt is paid.

That is the pattern given to us.

Where did we go wrong? Where did we lose it? Despite You showing it to us, again and again and again?

God, come and save Your Bride. We are bat-shit crazy.

I'm still waiting for the end of the story, God. Where you come, and save us, Your bat-shit crazy narcissistic Bride. And somehow, make us, bright and clean, pure, holy and without blemish.

God, you've got Your work cut out for you.

Come, and save us. We are Yours. All the hot mess of us. Save us.

Fragile Beings Suspended

 We are such fragile beings, suspended above eternity.

Just one lungfull of oxygen, one burst brain-blood-vessel, one heartbeat away, from the edge of time. From the mysteries that sages have searched for, mystics climbing mountains. Just there, just hovering, right on the other side.

Reshaping family culture through Lent

 Recently I've reflected on how little my daily expense of time reflects my actual ideals. 

I want to live like God is real.

I want to create Rivendell---a place of joy and peace.

I want to show my children, by how I live my daily life, what I truly think is important and life-giving.

Through daily tangible choices, I can change our family culture.

The point is to change our daily routine to where it actually shapes us. Because our daily time-slots do shape our souls, since our souls are being formed in real time. 

"Mental patterns" and all that, as psychologists talk about.

So I want to give the kids a life centered around the rhythm of joy and worship. Josh has already changed our family culture so much, with the evening Bible Readings added into family prayer. 

Now its my turn, to do my part when he's gone at work, to make our home more filled with God's presence. I want my kids to be like the Israelites, growing up with the Pillar of Cloud and Fire.

Another issue is how we treat eachother. There is too much fighting, too much negative talk and gossip and fussing. The change starts with me. I must get right with God in the mornings, and also, reset the family culture of how we treat eachother. Kindness is a fruit of the Holy Spirit.

For Lent 2026 I have changed my plans. 

Family disciplines

1. Family Prayer & Worship
1. Morning Prayer in the Babygarden every morning
2. the 5,7,7 QT in the mornings, five minutes listening to Bible, 7 minutes journaling/quiet praying, 7 minutes praying out loud, Korean-style.
3. Worship songs [Let the kids pick the songs with the lyric videos] at the end of school.
2. No whining, fussing, gossiping, fighting at all. [take it to Jesus] [-5 min gametime per infraction]
3. No sweet treats at all. [Fruit is ok]. UNLESS guests are over, or its a feast day [Birthday, or Sunday]
4. We will eat our way through our split peas, beans, and freezer. [goal empty the freezer]

Personal Disciplines

For me, I've changed my plans. I need a hard reset on how I cope with daily life, and my mid-life crisis.

1. Give up writing my Star Wars story. I think I am turning to it too much, as an escape or another world in dealing with my mid-life crisis.
• Instead fill those gaps of time with doing things with the kids. At the end of Lent I want to have done something significant with each child.
• Teach Isaiah how to draw
• Teach Isaiah how to recite poetry
• Teach kids (esp sarah) how to play the recorder
• Garden with the kids
• Teach the girls how to sew
• Paint iwth the kids, perhaps help them 
• ??Finally illustrate the woodcutter and the wolf-king
2. Give up personal Youtube browsing in the evenings
• [except 15 min max per day with a timer, for topics to research for home-improvement research for classes etc]
• Never change the 7 min internet timer on my phone.
• Instead fill gaps of time with reading books, praying. Read the Ignatius Examen, watch things on Formed, read various religious books I've bought over the years and haven't read. 

My general usage of time should be

1. Morning Prayer
2. Breakfast,
3. Devotions
4. School with big kids
5. When Big Kids do busywork, then go and cuddle little ones, Hide 'em in your heart playing. Go back to help big kids as needed.
6. Lunch
7. Worship God
8. Freetime---[This is where I will try to do those things with the kids]
9. House projects
10. Dinner
11. Cleanup
12. Family Fun Time
13. Evening Bible and Prayers
14. Time to talk with Isaiah, Josh, or read, or pray.

The Foundations of Female Attraction

 I wrote this for my teenage son, who is now very curious how to impress girls. Right now it mostly seems to involve fantasies of building massive muscles and strategically losing your shirt so she'll notice. 

So I felt the need to clue him in on what actually impresses the female half of the population. I put this up here in case it is useful for anyone else clueless how to impress a woman.

Foundations of Female Attraction

 LEVEL 1: Faith in Something greater than himself. Having Convictions, Principles and the Courage to act on those convictions----The girl is picking her LEADER. If he doesn’t know where he’s going or what he’s doing, or what he believes in---she’s not going to want to follow. It would be like you signing up for an army you have no idea for what country or what rules they follow or what religion.

2.       LEVEL 2: Mental Discipline. You must master yourself. A girl wants to know you have mastered your emotions and your anger. So that you are in charge, not your emotions. That she is obeying you, not your whims. Also that you work hard, can push yourself to do hard things. She wants to know you have mastered yourself, so she knows she she can trust you with herself and your future kids. 

3.       LEVEL 3: Kind to the weak. Having strength, but not being a bully, but a protector of the helpless. This is huge. How a man treats those who cannot reward him. Not in how he treats the boss, but the old penniless lady. Small children. Protects the weak and does not prey on them. Unselfish. Fearing God. Knowing that strength was given to him, as a trust. With great power comes great responsibility. In attractiveness: Spiderman > thug.

4.      LEVEL 4: Comportment & Posture. How you carry yourself in relation to the world. Slouching aristocrat or an alert soldier? This is self defence 101. Who do thugs choose to jump in parking lots?[link here] For most people, it is subconscious. People will decide what you are, who you are. It's how you know someone is ex-military. It's one of the factors when girls swoon for men after they go through bootcamp. Often their physique actually hasn't changed that much---but their comportment has. Soldiers hold themselves like they know what they are doing---like they are men. With a purpose. And know that they are a force to be reckoned with. Criminals aren't the only ones who notice your posture.

5.      LEVEL 5: Hygiene. Be considerate of not grossing people out. Girls are even  more grossed out than boys. They have been guardians of the home for millennia and lost children to disease. FIGHT NURGLE. Wash your hands, don’t pick your nose. Don’t make weird scraping sounds with phlegm in your throat like you’re dying of whooping cough. Blow your nose with proper form, and wash hands afterwards. Smell NOT-BAD. (really, Axe, stinks. It's a triumph of modern marketing that young men still think it works)

a.       Breath---xylitol after meals. Brush teeth, floss, ACT

b.       Underarm, vinegar, deodorant. Change clothes every day

c.      !!!! If you work out or labor or sweat---shower. Rancid sweat smell is like a dead animal. (usually only gets to that point several days in, I think based on my memories of my little brother)

d.       Scalp Care [Scalp wash routine, Vinegar rinse, keep dandruff away]

6.       LEVEL 6: Physique. Having muscles, looking strong enough to protect her and your future kids, is a definite plus. Having good posture (level 4) really helps maximize this. That is, a skinnier man who stands with good posture looks better than a slouching muscular guy. Girls in general aren't as impressed by strength just existing, as strength with purpose. Important note! While having a good physique is a plus, a man who is constantly taking selfies of his abs is a major turn-off for a lot of women. A girl wants you to want to look at her, not the mirror! Narcissus and Echo did not go well.

7.       LEVEL 7: Style. Hairstyle--- keep it relatively short (obviously male) and out of your eyes. Hair Gel can help. Clothing---Pick clothing that flatters you, AND sends the message you want. [e.g. medieval, loves certain movie, etc]

        Girls aren't irrational after all. These foundations of attraction really all boil down to---will he be man enough to protect me and our children, and man enough to love me and our children even when its hard.

She's signing up to follow you, after all. It's like signing up for the marines, but for your whole life, and to follow a specific sergeant till you die. You want to make sure that commander is up to snuff before you swear on.

And coming back to "Level 1" and why it is the foundation of everything else. She needs to know this sergeant is following the same General. 

And even when storms come, and when you fail, she needs to know that you will be man enough to repent, and turn to follow your God even through suffering.

Making Rivendell...I've lost my focus on my purpose

 Today I watched a few active toddlers while the adults did sunday school. I put on Steve Green's "Hide 'em in your heart" audiotape from my childhood [thanks, youtube!], as kids colored and played with Noah's ark animals and a smattering of cars.

There was this sense of joy and peace as they played.

I realized I have forgotten what I set out to do. I wanted to make Rivendell. 

It has to be Rivendell for the kids. More than white walls, wood, and cool lanterns--the trappings.

I was here for the heart.

The singing. The peace. The joy.

That's what I want. And I can cultivate it.

If I taught little kids classes

• Hebrew
• Bible Memory [Psalm 27 in full, Psalm 23 in full, Psalm 46 in full]
• Stories of the Heroes [St Patrick, Gladys Aylward, etc]
• Watercolor/Markers/Art lessons//Craft Time
• Outdoor play [tag, sharks and minnows, etc]
• ?Line Dancing [little boys doing the Virginia reel]
• Choreographed fighting [pool-noodle lightsaber]
• ???Worship Dance, with scarves

I daydreamed about if I had the reins of a preschool class. But I do. I did. Most of the class is out of preschool now. I've got 2 or 3 left, depending on how you count. 

Why not here? Why not the singing as we color. Why not that feeling of peace and joy as we learn about the world, and how to color leaves and rainbows? There is so much wonder and joy to be had. But most of all, that home being a place of spontaneous singing, security---a golden sort of peace. The heart.

Heroism, self-sacrificial charges, etc, is all well and good. But its not the heart. I need to give the kids that heart.

Also, I found my new style icon

[insert the fisherprice Noahs wife picture here] last week of August 

Its all there. The long grey braid. The industrious, helpful, generous basket. That simple and yet beautiful headband, a crown of womanhood. The bright eyes, the cheerful smile. 

That's who I want to be. 

She Ran to Him

She ran to him, knowing, what no one else knew

(Knowing he would carry her)

She ran to him, knowing, what she was too young to know

(too small to see, too new to know)

That he would hold her thumb, kiss it

 

She ran to him, with overweening arrogance, unconceivable presumptiousness

un-justified pride

Knowing he would comfort her

She ran to him, with wisdom beyond the Hokhmim

Knowing he would cuddle her

 

And so the child came crying

Demanding the kiss of God

And so the toddler came indignant

Ordering the arms of God

 

And so the kingdom cometh

For so does it come

And so the child enters

For she is too young, she knows 

I wrote this almost fifteen years ago. I found it on my old college days blog. Thought I would put it up. It is a riff on pondering what it means to "become a little child" to God.

"Unless ye receive the kingdom of God as a little child, ye shall not enter it."

I wrote this from experience with little siblings. Now from the last 14 years experience with my own 8 little children, I would say their defining characteristic is their demand for love. They know it, and they expect it.

Two Poems written at 30,000 ft

 I flew to my sister's wedding, after not flying for about 7 years. I don't know if it was being refilled with kind stranger's blood ten times 2023, or if it is approaching middle age, but people feel so much more...precious. 

The people all around me, strangers, moving along. Sometimes it hits me just how vulnerable we are, our lives suspended over death by miracles we are not aware of. A few pumps of a heart muscle, a mis-timed squirt of air or oxygen...we can be broken so easily. 

Bustling about with our big plans and our daily worries, unaware, so fragile, precious, and human.

[Leaving]

I fly above the world

in a tube of tin

fragile wings outstretched,

caught in the wind

Silent humanity,

crushed within

A life-time of memories---hopes won or lost

Written in a kilogram of greymatter, 

packaged in wrinkled flesh and textiles.

An aging lady reads a romance

its crisp pages never to be turned again.

A middle aged man, potentials collapsed into a suit

 curly hair thinning, tinged with grey, 

with eager eyes consumes the free flight training

meticulously takes the quiz---how to bank, turn, landing, takeoff---

bound back to earth.

All yearnings of our souls, inchoate

Mute children, yearning for words [within]

each of us, elbows carefully at our sides

avoiding each-other's eyes.

My deep apologies for the bad metallurgy that I reduced my aircraft to, in an attempt to rhyme.

The man on my left felt like a Jewish businessman, carefully wearing a nice suit, probably on his way to some business meeting, probably. In boredom he fired up the screen, eschewed movies, and was taking a free pilot course complete with multiple choice-quizzes on piloting terminology and techniques. Banking and turning, when to put the flaps down, etc. He was going through the quizzes, with the eagerness of a preteen who has just discovered they can become a pilot. He had very curly hair, tinted with grey, thinning out. He looked about 40 or 45, when paths have long been chosen, careers have been baked in, and there isn't enough time to re-orient. But it was so easy to see the child in him...what he must have once looked like----a mop of curly hair over bright curious eyes, studying the world. But now middle aged, and all bound up in the respectable suit... it didn't seem to fit his true soul. As if he wore it almost like an ill-fitting uniform, that a good child donned to do the job required of him.

The woman's romance novel was some strange exploration into a possible ghost story or a widow or something, but falling in love with some poor guy who went by they/them. It wasn't your typical harlequin, I think, but it also was all about experiencing a romance, kiss, etc, that wasn't your own. It was odd. It felt like the sort of book one would never re-read. The sort of thing a moody writer writes in desperation trying to squeeze wind and kisses and sunsets out of a computer word-document. There's a sort of pathos to it, the graphic description of kisses, the attempt to summon up hypothetical beach sunsets that you haven't actually experienced enough of. As if your mind was a computer generator, hashing out fuzzy images of Microsoft back-drop screens, with ourselves crudely photoshopped into...longing for life. For wind. Hunched in a air-conditioned room, staring into an LCD monitor that is attempting to reconstitute the photons of a foreign sunset, looking for filling the hunger in our souls.

[Returning]

In a tube of hammered steel,

Frantically riding the wind

Rushing forward, jolting in its turbulence

Packed in, we neatly keep

Our elbows tucked, our heads forward, 

Furtive glances to catch

Bits of souls of the others, glinting though---

A ring, luggage patch, phone screen backdrop, half of a tattoo

What signs of loves, quirks, ideologies and selfhood chosen?

We collect in odd assortment in our pockets, during this mad race toward eternity

The tired middle-aged Indian man [strong, grey-frosted]

beside pulls down the shutter

closing his eyes.

We sit in darkness, lit by light-shadows of sudden brightness,

the few young window-dwellers who 

still sit by unshuttered portholes,

hungry eyes drinking in the sight.

Older ones outnumber them

Lean back weary arms crossed,

Seeking sleep

The attendant comes,

like good children we wait quietly,

sitting in our seats, eager anticipation,

hoping not to be passed over.

I nod off, coming to, afraid I have

missed the awaited treat

The tattooed curly haired beauty next to me,

handing the precious pretzel packets to me in shy solidarity.

I pass it to the Indian man beside me.

In silent fellowship we eat our pretzel packets,

Together

Ginger ale, tomato juice, and a whiskey

In silent communion we consume.

And then wait together.

Jolting again

Through the rough wind, invisible

Trusting that the darkened tube is still

sailing toward the earth

Towards that place

Where familiar faces and voices await us,

Home

There was something that almost made me cry, how we suddenly all became little children. The glamorous well-dressed curly-haired tattooed girl next to me, who probably doesn't agree with me on politics or religion or anything, waking me up so I didn't miss the snack. We may have all been in kindergarten, looking out for each other. I feel like I love her so much. With the love of a 6 year old who just was saved from snack-less-ness by the other 6 year old. Words may have ruined it, we would have disagreed about everything. But there was something about that silence, as if our souls were all lined up, silence stripping away our self-created identities, and just children inside. May God bless her abundantly.

To know God....

This morning I awoke early, was thinking, half asleep. Had a dream in which I wanted a baby so badly, I was afraid I would steal my sisters' new baby.

I thought about life. About how lately I've been empty inside, struggling with something. Tup tup pe, is how the Koreans call it. All the emotions jammed up inside, you're not even sure what's in there.

Computer games have these images in them. No wonder people play them. That makes me feel like I can almost feel the thing I am missing but forgot what it was, till I forget the feeling of missing it. And then a cool trailer, a sunrise to music and a purpose....then For one second, suddenly realizing that I am not alive, but used to be....Why does it take stories to make me feel this way? Epic trailers with epic music, and epic tragedies or triumphs...I start to feel like I can feel again for a moment....but why do I not see it in my real life all around  me? Why is it this pixelated image from a virtual world, not the sunsets I see with my own eyes? Why this numbness only stories can cut through? 

I've been struggling with a sense of missing something. Perhaps mid-life crisis. Perhaps a missing uterus. Perhaps missing my two little boys. And knowing a chapter of my life is over.

I've been missing that something a lot. 

Sometimes it felt like I was missing feelings. Or feeling alive. Like I was watching my own life distantly, through glass. Not really feeling. Not really seeing. The little ones are growing up all around me, I'm surrounded by life....and yet somehow I've felt so checked out this last year. As if I'm not really living my own life. It is my own fault too. I have avoided doing real things, interacting with my real children, to spend many hours on the internet, browsing youtube. Or immersed in my own fiction,  writing a star wars story. Why is it like I am chasing filling, or feelings, in an alternate world. Or really, inside my own head. Hours talking to my own brain. 

Am I processing life? Or escaping it, in concentrically smaller circles of insanity?

I know I process when I write. I partly write to think. But I know I also write looking for something. Is this the definition of insanity? Endlessly talking to my own self, for hours and hours of my life...when there are other humans all around me, who would love my attention? Often they are in their own little worlds and stories, interacting with eachother. But they would want me to be with them. They often ask for it.

How long have I been stuck in my own head? Searching for something, feeling empty, like I had swallowed so much air my throat hurt.

And it made sense, somehow, half asleep in the dawn light, that I was trying to fill the God-shaped emptiness inside of myself, with other things. Cramming in other shaped things. It didn't fit. 

I need to focus on reaching outside of myself....to the Creator who made me. Get out of these concentric circles in my own mind. And look at Him.

Perhaps that is what worship means.

To just look at Him. And see Him. Really see Him.

*****************************************8

Practical steps:

1. Actually go outside at 6 when I wake up, and pray at the prayergarden where my little boys are buried. And pray. And see what He says.....Ask Him who He is. I can show up. And see what He does.
2. Read the Bible. In as many different translations as I can. This year, perhaps NASB. Next year, KJV. The year after that ESV. Mix it up with reading it and listening to it. Somehow different hings jump out at me then.
3. Do devotion time with the kids. 5-5-5
1. Five minutes of listening to NKJV dramatized audioBible on youtube
2. Five minutes of silent journaling, silent prayer
3. Five minutes of Korean Style Prayer [Everyone outloud and praying]

Genius Aliens using social engineering to teach humans the One Thing

 If I awoke with my mind wiped of all memories, to sit and watch humanity on a million secret CCTV's, I think I would conclude that the human race had been either modified or created by aliens running a vast social experiment, with a single goal.

We start out, excited about life, wanting warmth and sustenance and our mothers to cuddle and sustain us as our mammalian biology dictates. We scream demanding sweet calories from our mothers carbohydrate rich milk. And we get it. And we grunt in satisfaction, guzzling the deliciousness as fast as we can.

We grow, mature, and are suddenly really really good-looking. Beautiful, infact. Like the best looking we'll ever be in our lives, though we don't realize that yet..... 

And raging full of hormones. And we are suddenly very attracted to the opposite sex, and want to do this thing that gives us a huge hormonal high. A literal drug trip in our brains. But free. And not bad for us. 

And when we engage in this activity with someone, our brain dopes us up on oxytocin, which we have receptors for, which makes us 'bond' to that specific person. [monogamous voles have these oxytocin receptors. When they disabled them in their brains, the voles then behaved polyamorously like other species. Humans have these oxytocin receptors]

A person we have picked out for a various handful of perhaps subconscious but logical reasons that makes them stand out to us. Beauty or wit or making those hilarious jokes or geeking out about our favorite books together. Some personal infatuation algorithm we have that tries to calculate how to maximize our future happiness.

And then, the sexual-desire hormone, testosterone, which is super abundant in males, spikes precipitously in females...once a month...right on that little window of fertility. So when she suddenly when its the hardest to resist.....now....

BAM.

Now there is a baby.

And the baby comes out screaming for sustenance, and a womans breasts suddenly fill up PAINFULLY like they're going to burst, and the little desperate creature is the best at relieving this. And while she is doing this, then that oxytocin is released in her brain, as she holds this little mammal to her....the bonding chemical kicks in again.

And then, as the sleep deprivation subside, her hormones resume....and then even if she is trying to avoid this whole thing happening again (labor transition pain is after all not easily forgotten) well, the the testosterone spikes again at a critical moment, and her man is suddenly irresistible....

Source: https://xkcd.com/674/

And then there are more little people. And more. And more. And they are so darn cute, as we have been mentally programmed to find our offspring. 

And they grow and grow.

And then....they turn into obnoxious teenagers who point out all our problems and our hypocrisy, with a nice dash of ungrateful and cutting insight into our psyches.

But at this point, we've sunk way too many sleepless nights and free housing and emotional energy into these obnoxious little punks, so we still want them to come home for holidays and blow out candles together.

And all the while our beauty fades and fades away....we sadly see some of those things that attracted us when we were young, to that person we have oxytocin-bonded too, fade away. It fades away in both of us.

And our health, our strength, our taste, our vigor, our ability to climb mountains and taste maple-syrup, all the things that made life fun, fade away....

And finally, even our mental capabilities fade away....

And we are a shell of our former gifts, old, wrinkled, bent, fat, and finally, stupid.....

And all that's left, is the soul. 

The choice to love, that all began, for very calculated and logical reasons, to maximize our happiness..... in the end, remains when all the reasons are taken away. Illogical, but there. 

....and we realize....as everything fades away......

                                           .........that we have finally learned to love. 

*************

This song says it better than I ever could

Thoughts on Beauty and Clothing as I become an Old Lady

 On the eve of my 37th birthday, I'm thinking about this. 

Hopefully, a little early.*

When we age we are still beautiful. But the beauty changes. Not in the attractive/possibility-of-bearing-life/sexual being sort of way. But still beautiful--but transmuted.

No longer-----a princess, ready for her adventure story--full of possibility, desire, and potential, an unlined face, fresh with newness. Facing a life. Springtime.

But instead----a queen-----who has lived, seen, suffered, and is still doing her part to uphold good in the world. The Autumn of her life, facing the Winter, awaiting the eternal Spring that will come.

Shift from-----unstained beauty. Possibility. Potential. Future. Alluring. Begetting. Flowering

Shift to--->weathered beauty. History. A face lined with testament of the light of a thousand worlds, in struggles fought, lost or won. Standing. Still standing. Doing her part, standing at the pass. And awaiting the final ending of the world.

"Ideals to Strive For" e.g. "Fashion Icons"

1. Tangle, the girl in the Golden Key, at the end, when she is waiting for the boy Mossy at the gate at the end, and has long silver hair and a face covered in wrinkles, waiting by the door, in hope.
2. Kanaan's Jedi mentor Depa Billaba from Greg Weisman's comic. If she had gotten to be as old as the Jedi Librarian [name]. How I imagine she would have been. Sitting up tall, silver hair, flowing robes, stately. Kind to children.
3. Irene's grandma in the Princess and the Goblin. [although this is slightly cheating since she didn't have wrinkles, just fabulous silver hair and immortality...] OK, so Irene's grandma IF SHE had been more mortal. 
4. Old medieval queen, who has been though a lot. [wars, grief, etc], standing tall, waiting in hope for the return of the Hero, bringing back her lost husband and sons. St Margaret in her old age.
5. Old Ma Ingalls.
6. Old Ranger in Arnor, who knows the paths, tracking a trail, listening for signals, knows the coming of the dawn---but the female version. Going to have to find a story with this---or write one myself---or flesh it out in reality.
7. Candy Grandma at church. White haired old woman wheel-chair-bound, handing out gummi worms to all the children. Always smiling, emanating joy. Very cheerful. She put evangelistic bumper stickers on the back of her wheelchair. She always seems to be overflowing with joy. Kids line up and she gives them 2 gummi worms each. I've seen her give them to awkward but still sugar-desiring teenagers. She doesn't make anyone feel guilty, or sorry for her. Radiantly smiling. Overflowing with kindness and happiness, and love for the little mercenary young ones seeing her as a sugar-dispenser. She just loves everyone. After you leave her presence you remember a smiling face with bright eyes and curly white hair.
8. Mother Teresa. She was so beautiful. Bright eyes in a dear wrinkled face. Smiling in joy at the children, she refracted their beauty to what we could see---like a crystal splitting the light to many colors.

Try to be beautiful as long as possible, wear my hair down, as it things, probably armpit/shoulder-length, curled/permed, and pin it on the sides for side-volume. Or just in the elven-style. Then when I have enough wrinkles I want to go grey/silver, and wear my hair long, in two long silvery braids. If my hair gets too thin for this, I shall have to keep it armpit/shoulderlength in a half-up. 

Stand and sit up like a queen. Straight as I can. Work out as much as I can, to keep posture, and my ability to be strong as I can, to walk.

Wear classically beautiful sillhouette, still feminine, but stately. Womanly, old, queenly. 

Long Fit-flared dresses, now with high mandarin collars. If the dress has a scoop neck, wear a white-mandarin collar beneath it. Still wear Dirndls with white blouses, my grey-white hair wrapped in a crown braid. Prairie school-marm fit and flared dresses. Something Ma Ingalls would have worn. And medieval gothic fitted dresses, with a white under-blouse, or a high neck.

Wear make-up, not overdone. Eyebrows are a must on me. Probably blush will be too, as I age. 

And always smile. Encourage the young people, that life is worth it. That despite all the disappointments and pain in life, it is worth it.

 There is Joy on the other side.

And we will get through the night, and make it through to the Other Side.

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*[I hope to be able to pull off my current fashion sense of DunedainMom/Ranger-woman, and feminine/pretty/dirndl/medieval for another decade, or decade and a half. I hope. Really hoping my body doesn't hit menopause till 54, like my mommy, despite having lost my uterus. Alas. Imma get it back on the day of Resurrection. I asked Jesus to find it, and give it back to me. I know I won't be using it in the New Heavens and the New Earth...but it was part of me my whole life, and I want it back, in whatever glorified state it may be. If medieval paintings have the various body parts of hapless sailors being coughed up by sea-monsteres, and coming back together again, to stand at the last judgment----it stands to reason I get my uterus back from whatever biohazard dump it was lost in.]

When my kids are driving me crazy...

On the days when I think the kids are “driving me crazy”, I need to stop, and think.

And every time, the root is not the kids. 

Yes, they might push me over on the edge, but why was I sitting by the edge in the first place? Why does 2 tantrums, an emptied bookshelf, permanent marker on the carpet, or a poop explosion, suddenly feel like the last slender thread of my sanity snapping? 

Usually I can find why I was sitting on the edge---I find I'm worrying someone I love will wreck their life, or I'm in the middle of a drawn out text-fight with a sister, or mentally rehearsing bitter litanies of grievances from people I have not forgiven, or brooding over some awful thing that has happened in the world, or stressed out about some financial need, or fearing for a beloved one's marriage, or worrying about a friend or siblings relationship choices----all these things push me to that edge, then one kid-tantrum or mess later, I'm yelling, crying, and melting down.

But its not really the kids, its the turmoil in my own soul. And the answer to every one of those problems is to take it to God, to TRUST His heart, to TRUST His strength. Then I can face the daily stresses of life with small children with joy, with deep reserves instead of inner turmoil. The inner turmoil is what has me living on the edge, running on narrow margins.

My noisy kids are not the problem---the turmoil in my soul is. And when the Holy Spirit comes, and I give Him the burdens of my heart, then suddenly, a mess is just a mess, a diaper explosion is just a needed bath (with bubble soap! And foodcoloring in the water!), a tantrumming kid is just a needed long hug (good for us both), a permanently-markered carpet is just money (God will provide).

Because what I really needed wasn't peace and quiet so I could cope with my inner turmoil without blowing my top.

What I really needed wasn't me-time so I could distract myself with hobbies or reading, and hold in all the pain and fear, and pretend it wasn't there.

What I really need is inner peace.

I need to invite the Holy Spirit into the dark places of fear in my soul, to give him my burden, and then rise up and live. So my kids are really God's scalpel, cutting apart my camouflaging bandages to show me the hidden infection that was there all along, in my heart.

My kids overload my coping mechanisms, so that they fail. With my coping mechanisms broken, I am forced to go to the Healer, to offer to Him the turmoil in my heart, and TRUST....and learn to live.

More Thoughts on Marriage

Thinking about what marriage is.

God knew from the start what a marriage would be. And He still guided people to get married when he knew there would be deep betrayal. The marriage does not retroactively become a 'mistake'. None of it was wasted. He has not forgotten, not overlooked, not neglected, not been sloppy.

God promised “I will also hold you by the hand and watch over you”

It is, was, and will be, true.

Maybe God's purpose for us marrying someone, wasn't as happy as we thought. Maybe it was to carry a cross of horrible illness with someone, watching dementia claim their mind, or to spend the next 40 years caring for a blind bomb-shredded limbless brain-damaged hero-husband who marched off young, strong, and intelligent, to war. Or carry the cross of shame of imprisonment with someone, visiting them in their prison. Or to fight for someone's soul—even if prayer is all we can do as we wait—and they run off in self-destruction.

God's thoughts are higher than our thoughts, his ways than our ways.

In the end, none of it will have been wasted. God holds our hand, bottles every tear, hears every prayer. What He knew our marriage would be on our wedding day, may not have been as happy and wonderful as we had thought—but He will make it beautiful, far more beautiful than we can imagine this side of the Jordan. Because He will be with us every step, every second, every moment, holding our hand, giving us strength.

And He never wastes anything.

Marriage---What Is It?

Marriage---what are we signing up for?

Is marriage about rights----love me/be faithful to me/have a godly home/provide for me, or is it more like a binding oath to a kind of “war buddy”, that lasts as long as you are alive, to help the other person be sanctified, become more like Christ, enter the new Jerusalem---no matter what happens?

We get married expecting it means children, buying a home, retiring together, studying Bible together, reading stories together, going on family camping trips, kissing etc, and being old people going on daily walks together with an umbrella.

I know that is what I expected.

But there are lots of wonderful people I know/know of, whose lives didn't turn out that way.

Because there are lots of other things we don't expect. We don't expect our smart, emotionally supportive, fun-to-talk-to husband to go through a brain trauma that renders him a needy child. Or a freak accident to a 27 yr old man at work that renders the marriage a chaste one for the next 40 years. Or to be young, and suddenly, widowed and alone, raising kids without their father.

God knew on our wedding day what we were signing up for. We did not. We can't know. But He knew all along. He knew from the first date. And He holds us. “I will also hold you by the hand and watch over you” (Isaiah 42:16)

We don't get married expecting to have to turn our husband/wife into the law, and visit him in jail the rest of our lives. Or visit him on death row. Or every day raising the kids alone, and each day, faithfully praying for someone who has abandoned you for another(s).

But is that what is being asked of us? To not stand on our rights, but to carry the cross?

Parenting, what are we signing up for? If your kid did the unspeakable things, would you still love them? Would you cut ties and find another kid? Or would you visit them on death row, praying for them every day?

What is being asked of us?

I think that is at the crux of what so much of this argument about marriage comes down to. What do we see it as? What is it?

Brunette Eowyns and Human Heras: Thoughts on Cosplaying

Cosplaying is fun. I admit, I spent a good chunk of the last 5 years, saving pictures of really cool cosplays to my computer. I like dressing up, and I like stories. (Full disclaimer, despite spending hours of my life saving & researching cosplays, I have never actually been to a conference, or even a midnight showing, alas)


However, something I realized, sorting out the cosplays I particularly liked, is there are 2 things I value if I did cosplay--to look like the character, but also, to also be kind of like the character---if they were me. Sort of like capturing the "ethos" of the character, translated into the modern day me.


For example: An hours worth of make up on Princess Leia? Totally. Princesses have to keep up appearances. Princesses need to be careful how they dress, how they walk, how they look. So a princess would totally spend a lot of time on make up. Yes, Princess Leia is cool and independent. So that means she puts on her own makeup, and doesn't drag along a make-up assistant before battles. She's still a princess, you know.

So if I was pretending to be Princess Leia, then yes, I'd put on make up.

More than a minute's worth of makeup on Mara Jade? Think about it. Her idea of looking presentable when Luke was coming, was to wash her face in an icy creek when she hadn't had a shower in 2 weeks. (Specter of the Past). If Mara used make-up at all, she probably wouldn't put on any more than took 60 seconds....unless she was impersonating a duchess or something like in Allegiance. But most of her work seemed to be of the hijacking pirate ships and leaping over roof-struts to rescue hostages type of things.

I like this picture of her I found on the internet. Red gold hair on a blazingly idealistic 18 yr old.

So if I were pretending to be Mara, I wouldn't bother with make-up. (And whomever illustrated the cover of Choices of One should have thought about that triple-applied mascara....)

So for portraying an alien (like Hera Syndulla), a human girl wearing a realistic & weathered aviator suit feels much more "authentic" to me, than one wearing hours worth of make-up and prosthetics to look like a Twilek. (Because a Twilek wouldn't need prosthetics.)

That said, I think when I do get round to making Josh a Grand Admiral Uniform, we will go the whole 9 yards with the blue skin and red eyes and all, because Josh basically is Thrawn already. (minus the superhuman IQ. And Josh is a Christian. And a sort of imperialist libertarian. So not the totalitarian part either.) But when we do give Josh blue skin, we will do it authentically. So I will feed him colloidal silver, to turn his skin bluish-grey naturally.

That was a joke.
We will use make-up.

Ok, back to my pointless ramble....

When trying to be like Tolkien's characters, I feel like it somehow isn't really the ethos of the Elves of Middle Earth to be wearing lots of make-up or wigs.
To me, Tolkien's world is about the natural beauty of things, the grain of the wood, the rustle of leaves, the tangle of rocks and trees and stars, elven maidens clad in simple dresses, water bubbling over rocks from a mountain brook. (As much as I love the complicated velvet gowns of the movies, they don't seem to really match the people in the book). When cosplaying Lord of the Rings characters, I like it when cosplayers just showcase the beauty of their natural hair (even forgoing their "usual" modern hair products, straighteners, curling irons, etc) go light on the make-up, and leave the artificial wigs alone.
To me, a brunette Eowyn or a blonde Arwen is so much more "authentic" than one with a wig. And an Arwen or an Eowyn climbing a tree or making breakfast feels more "authentic" to me than one at a convention playing dress up (which I imagine would be very very fun, hanging out with like-minded people, and I would love to do some day. However, it's not capturing the "ethos" of the elves).

this cosplayer "Mela"dress made by "Gen", captures more of the "ethos" of the elves for me than any of the elves in the movies did with their make up artists and fake trees.

Same for medieval looks. I feel more medieval by trying to capture the ethos of it in my everyday clothing. For me, that means having Isaiah wearing a medieval tunic with his jeans as he climbs a tree, and wearing cotton tunics & belts with my modern day pants, as I play with the kids in the back yard, make dinner, and pray. Also while learning how to shoot. But we haven't got there yet....

**********************************************************************************
-------A long ramble on the subject of hair, probably of interest to very few-------------------------------

I prefer dark haired Eowyns to Eowyns with yellow wigs. (Practically, because you have to drop a good bit of money into a blonde wig for it not to look fake.) But also, I don't think Middle Earthers wore wigs, at least, not the rough-and-tumble early-medieval-Saxon-esque people of Rohan, living in wattle & daub halls (maybe flax or hair extensions, but definitely not wigs. That would be Roman).


For Star Wars, their technology is obviously very advanced, so wigs definitely existed. Princess Leia would be following in a long line of royal tradition to be wearing hair extensions & hair rats/padding. (Also, hair extensions have been around for as long as women have been able to cut off and save their own braids.)

Cosplaying realistic red hair is an issue unto itself. Sadly, a good chunk of awesome women in fiction have red hair :(
Black Widow does obviously dye her hair all sorts of colors, so dyed red hair for her makes perfect sense. (But why she straightened it in Cap 2, when they were running for their lives and hiding at Falcon's house, no one knows. She probably used an actual iron though, because she's awesome like that.)
However, with Mara, I wouldn't use dye. Firstly, because for a dark brunette to pull of red-gold, it would take something far far beyond my skill (probably professional chemicals at a salon). Secondly, because Mara would never have bothered to dye her hair, even when it would have been practical for camouflage (When she gets caught flat footed by a bounty hunter in Dark Force Rising who recognizes her by her hair). She wears a hood, though (Choices of One),so I would be a brunette Mara with a hood. But if you have blonde hair, and can pull off natural-looking red-gold hair......

So that His blood could Un-Zerg Us

Reposting I think the best post I ever wrote.

http://makingrivendell.blogspot.com/2013/09/of-zerg-and-protoss-or-why-jesus-came.html

Goals and Projects

I messed up on blogger, and it ate the entire page of my projects. (Now blogger isn't letting me republish this as a page, so its going up as a post. I think I'm switching to wordpress soon. They treat you more like you've got a brain, and you don't have a glitchy server overriding you)

I had a little meltdown, but I think God is trying to tell me something about my priorities.

 

God.

I need to study His Word and spend time with Him. I have been too focused on short term stuff, and lose Him. And then I lose joy. And I turn into a jerk. Which is not good for the kiddos. Or me either. Its so hard to give up little pleasures for Him, but this is also indicative of the state of me....that I am close to my little pleasures and hobbies, but far from Him, so its giving up what is near and cherished for a Stranger. But I need to flip that. God has to be closer to me than my little pleasures, so that they pale in comparison to Him.

1. Daily Bible Reading & Study. Keep it simple 5 readings a week, taped to the wall and I highlight it when I do it. That way if I "fail" for a couple days, perfectionist me doesn't decide I "ruined the whole thing" and give up.
2. Daily Time with God. At least15 minutes a day of bringing Him my worries, just listening and journaling (because I get less distracted when I'm writing Him letters). Also praying through a list of people every day. It sounds really lame, but I'm going to make a little chart for this too....because I need accountability for myself.
3. Bible Study with Josh. Every evening, at 10:30 at night, we will spend at least 15 minutes on a Bible Passage, studying it together. We met in a Bible Study, and I like how different than mine his brain works.

Family.

I always mean to "spend more time" really spending time with the kids and not just keeping them alive/fed/clothed etc. But I tend to zone out and do things with them while thinking about something else. I need a schedule. And a highlighted chart, because I need accountability and structure like that.

1. Start Homeschool.  [Right after 2nd Breakfast] Start Isaiah with the Reading Program, and have the kids work on letters and numbers and simple math problems. Reading, Writing, Arithmetic. Even 10 minutes a day, every day at the same time, say after 2nd breakfast, is something to start with. Then do arts & craft with the kids. It can be stressful, as they wield paintbrushes, etc, but make an effort. Every day, either paint, crayon, marker, do a project, etc. with them. Even if its just 10 minutes after their 3 R's.
2. Hang out with them, intentionally. [Right after Baby's Naptime]. Focus on them. Just spend an hour hanging out, not trying to get laundry done, or sitting in the corner planning projects while they play, but just focusing on them for at least an hour, engaging them in conversations and playing along with them. Need to find a good time.
3. Read them at least 7 books a day. FIX A TIME. (2 of which should be about Jesus).
4. Go on a walk with them every day. [early morning, right after/before Breakfast] When the weather is no longer like the surface of Mercury, I will walk with them every day, preferably at 7 or 9 am.
5. Rocking Chair Time. [Right after Bedtime/Prayertime] My mom did this with us, and it was one of my most cherished memories. Should would have each of us take a turn, in which she would rock you in the rocking chair and sing you a song of your choice (usually "Morning Sun"), every night.

Stories & Paintings

I think God did give me a tendency & desire to write stories, and I think He wants me to do this. Often a picture will come into my head, an idea, and refuse to go away, just waiting. I know I've had this desire in me to write stories that show how big the sky is....how much meaning and love and poetry God has written even into this fractured universe. But for the most part in the last few years, I've pretty much focussed much more of limited spare time into other things (like making clothes and crafting with wire, or finding deals at thrift stores) which are good things, but I would be dissapointed if at the end of my life I had spent my free time on those things and never finished those unwritten stories that keep coming back to me. I also really want to be a part of helping out with my sibling’s stories, which I think have the potential to make this world a better place…because stories can open our eyes to beauty and truth.

I also want to learn how to illustrate Children’s books, and write the children’s books that I want my children to have. There don’t seem to be nearly enough of the kind I want to read to them, and I know how pivotal children’s books (with beautiful illustrations) were to shaping my sense of wonder about the world, especially the ones I had read to be before I was 6. Isaiah is 4 already, so I’m on a clock here….

1. Work on Sojourners with Micah
2. Work on Overworld/Underworld & Singstory with Bekah
3. The Morning People
4. Prodigal, Ambertstone, Where the Lilies truly grow, and other stories.
5. Write & Illustrate St. George and the Dragon
6. Write & Illustrate The Woodcutter and the Wolf-King
7. Finish planning and make the 7 icon set I’ve been planning for 2 years

Study

My Hebrew keeps slipping, alas, I need to go and refind it. I feel like I’m just burying something that I should be growing. So I want to set aside just 15-20 minutes, 4 times a week, to work on Hebrew and Greek. My goal is to be able to read through the Hebrew Bible (Old Testament) every year, at breakfast, with the kids (Which is less than 3 chapters a day). And to be able to read through the New Testament with the kids 2x a yr (just a chapter a day) in Greek. When I get consistent with this, I want to start actually studying Church Fathers and Interpretation and all that. (Cyril of Jerusalem Catechetical Lectures to start with, because they are so poetic. Augustine, etc.)

1. Hebrew
2. Greek
3. Help with Daddy’s book.
4. [Church Fathers]

Projects
These are concrete things, I create with my hands. I don't know why, it gives me so much more satisfaction than doing other necessary (yet cyclic) things, like laundry, or cooking/baking (because it all disappears...), etc. But I do have lists and lists of things I want to do, and have spent so much time/energy thinking about it. I need to be more realistic & responsible with how much time I set aside to do this, but also (ironically enough) be more disciplined about actually doing them.

To Do List Sept '15-Jan '16

1. Gondor Ranger Tote Bags
2. R&D blaster packs from canvas
3. Hobbit Outfit for Little Hobbit
4. Jenny B-day skirts
5. Epic Echoes Dresses (Green, Tan, Brown Sheet)
6. Grecian Dresses(w/ nursing fronts, and cowl) Jersey: Brown, Tan, Cream/white flowers. Sheets: Cream, pale Sea Green to dye, tan sheet [drapey w/ sheen]
7. Hobbit Clothes (Everyday LOTR-Armhole Princess Seamed, Kirtle bodice top?) Swirly Green, Olive Vine, Brown Poly vine, Red repurposed. 4 chemise shirts. Half Circle Skirts. Aprons
8. Eowyn Dresses (Everyday LOTR-Shoulder Princess Seamed)(Green Sundress, WW Sundress[sheet], Shieldmaiden Sundress[ja], Tippeted half sleeves—Green Gown[need HL fabric], Shieldmaiden [sheet],WW Gown
9. Arwen Dresses (Everyday LOTR) Half sleeve Bloodred Gown [sheets], Bridge dress half sleeves [sheets & chiffon], Green dress [need HL fabric] with chiffon BIG sleeves.
10. Peplum Tops (Simplicity, no collar, French cap sleeves) white & cream sheets.
11. Simple Shirtwaist Dress (Simplicity, no collar, French cap sleeves—might modify to reg cap sleeves) Blue Vines from HL, WWII tribute (gray green sheet, pockets), WWII Tribute 2 (need tan sheet, pockets, add collar???)
12. Collard Shirtwaist Dress?
13. Refashion Jean Shirtwaist dresses
14. Print/finish Gondor Tunics for myself, Gondor Tunics for the kiddos, Print kid’s T shirts, etc.

Christmas Sewing

1. Leather Steampunk Blaster Pack for Keziah
2. Leather Black Mara-Jade-ish Blaster Pack for Mali
3. Icon Set for Bekah (Painted on Hardwood Plywood?)
4. Blue & Gold semi-circle Icon Set for Sfs (Painted on Hardwood Plywood?)
5. Scripture Hangings for Mommy (Mount on HL stiff posterboard when there)
6. Petticoats for Leah
7. Fleece Elven Cloaks for the kids

Really Cool Ambitious Stuff 

1. Josh’s Ranger Outfit
2. Isaiah’s Ranger Outfit
3. Mali’s Mara Jade Outfit
4. Josh’s Imperial Uniform
5. My Wool Cotehardie Medieval Dresses

Stuff for others

1. Leah’s Hoopskirt
2. Leah’s Petticoats (try poly rope corded, and softer mirror organza one?)
3. Leah’s Summer Dresses (Red, Blue, Bright Green, Purple vines
4. Leah’s Winter dresses (need linings) (Poly Felicity, Purple flowers,
5. Bex Wine, Red, and Green Medievaloid dresses (Print necks?)
6. Bex Kurtis (her blue, her orange red, l.o. purple vines)
7. Bex muslin topped dresses (finish!)
8. Bex Red Arwen Dress from her sheet.
9. Micah Hobbit Waistcoat
10. Tirzah Gloves
11. Tirzah medieval printed blue and gold skirt
12.  Mali 50’s dress with square collar and petticoat 
13. Elven Lanterns 2.0 (with plastic sheeting?) for Bex and Leah

Little Girl (to Women) Sewing (list of what I found to be the most helpful tutorials/free patterns)

1. Pinafores (teach Apron Sewing, Petticoat sewing) [Also make little Pinafores with patch pockets with Applique matching the gingham stuff?]
2. Pantaloons & Fancy Pants (lots of free patterns, put links here)
3. A Line Hand Stamped & Appliqued Dresses (Teach Bias Binding [insert most helpful tutorials HERE]. Stamping or Applique [insert most helpful tutorials here]) (A line tutorial with facings from Climbing the Willow HERE. Nice simple closure solution)
4. A Line Dresses, with variations—Tiered Ruffle Dresses (Ruffles, Puffed and Butterfly sleeves, appliqued patch pockets. Sailor Collar, Peter Pan Collar.)
5. Basic Girls Dresses (Do lined bodices, and bias bound bodices) Skirt Variations (Gathered, vs half circle) Sleeve Variations (Sleeveless, Short Butterfly or Puffed, Long sleeved) [H—do the whole Gingham stack, flutter sleeves, half circle skirts, stamped white waistbands [Show Cathy how can modify this slightly for 18TH cent costume, princess, anything] (Basic Bodice Free Pattern from Climbing the Willow HERE, note 3/8" seam allowances, and no closure allowances, will have to add) (put most helpful placket tutorials HERE)
6. Hats. (Bag Lining) [H—white hats, and gingham reversible w/ bias binding matching?) Good free pattern and tutorial Oliver and S, HERE also find a good ruffle hat free pattern)
7. Basic Girl’s Dress for Neighbor (red, red flowers, bright pink) 
8. To make it for Women---> Just add darts! (or princess seams) (basic sloper, most intuitive BEST TUTORIAL HERE, part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, and here goes)
9. Women: Rub Off Simple elastic-waisted red dress.
10. Women: A line skirt (my favorite drafting instructions, very simple, HERE, simply draw out the sides to make it A line)
11. Women: Half Circle Skirt.
12. Women: Sundress w/ Half Circle Skirt

Baby Shower Sewing

1. Little Girl A line Dresses w/ matching fancy pants & Hats
2. R2D2 Dress & Hat
3. Winter Fleece hats--- Elf Hats, Kiss Hat? Little Knight Helmet hats,
4. Jersey sewing---Animal Hats, Stenciled LOTR drool Bibs
5. Sleep Sacks. Nursing Covers. 

Random Projects

1. Birka Style Medieval Pouches
2. Eowyn Belts (Filigree, Filigree w/ trim, From Recycling Metal, From Recycling Mixed Media)
3. Medieval Studded/Decorated Hanging Belt (Fabric & Paint, Velveteen & Sewology. Leather & Tandy Rivets)
4. Underbracers from faux suede, dwarven, ranger, elven variations
5. Brown Leather Bracers (possibly with veg tan embellishment, or leather cut out glued) for myself…
6. Gondor Black Leather Bracers (with 2nd layer cutout surrounding center piece, glued. Then possibly veg tanned cutout for tree and sea bird stuff in center…)
7. Screenprinting experiments
8. Couching & seed beads, experiments 

Headcoverings

1. Medieval Hood Headcoverings
2. Lace Headcovering (like Snood for All Seasons & Jewish Orthodox one I saw)
3. Simple Triangle shape head kerchief (Vintage or Dwarven)
4. Straw Hat refashions (1940s)
5. Felt Hat refashions (1940s) 

Future Dresses

• Epic Echoes (Claret Red HL w/ gold stencil OR w/ gold border w/ red stencil, Navy & gold, Also Navy and gold w/ cranberry French cap sleeves)
• Medievaloid Maternity (Claret Red HL w/ gold, Hunter Green HL w/ gold, Tan w/ olive stripe, Green w/ Brown Stripe)
• Arwen (Cranberry Claret Cotton HL—half length tippeted sleeves)
• Eowyn
• Square Neck Empire Puffed Sleeves, Dk blue w/ cream or white lace at neck.