Inspiration

"Be brave enough to live creatively. The creative is the place where no one else has ever been. You have to leave the city of your comfort and go into the wilderness of your intuition. You can't get there by bus, only by hard work, risking, and by not quite knowing what you're doing. What you'll discover will be wonderful: yourself."--Alan Alda

Today I got this very cute purse (a belated birthday present) from my friend Amanda, an elementary-school friend who re-appeared in my life about 15 years later. Cute on its own, I think the purse is even more special because Amanda made it. Passionate about recycling and saving the earth, Amanda has come up with a great way to re-create what would otherwise be just an ordinary placemat. I think it's pretty cool!

Such creativeness really inspires me. I am continuously awe-struck by the creative endeavors I see around me -- scrapbooking, sewing, painting, baking. And while there are people who have more creative juice in their pinkie finger (read: the Martha Stewart types) than I do in my whole body, there is a part of me that longs to be crafty and creative.

So maybe I'll finally get around to those projects that keep lurking about -- the wedding scrapbook, the half-completed cross-stitch picture (never mind the unstarted one in the closet!) -- or maybe I'll get really bold and figure out what I'm going to do with my newly acquired sewing machine. After all, a girl can dream, can't she?

Smoochacha Patchko Goes to Pittsburgh

Meet Smoochacha Patchko. Smoochacha is my friend Diana's travel kitty (TK). TKs are kind of like traveling gnomes. A woman in New York makes the TKs and sells them to people around the world. Those people then take pictures of all of the places that their travel kitty visits. (Learn more about the Travel Kitty Project here.) At any rate, Diana thought it might be fun if Smoochacha went with Dave and I on our vacation to Pittsburgh. We had a blast showing Smoochacha around the city (even if we did get a few funny looks in doing so!).

Boogety, boogety, boogety...let's go racing, boys!

As dorky as it may seem, one of the things that I really like about where I work is that we have a "Fun Committee" -- a group of people who try to schedule group events every few months. Our company started the committee several years ago as a way to encourage employee bonding and cross-departmental unity.

On your marks, get set...
Originally uploaded by merth2erth

While I learned during my year-long stint on the committee that the events themselves are more fun than planning them, I'm glad that we have people who are willing to put the time and effort into our activities. In the 3+ years that I've been here, we have had pot-lucks and cookouts, bowling outings and holiday parties, craft times and movie days.

This year's committee has done a really good job of mixing things up a bit. Case in point, we had the first annual CASTLE pinebox derby race last week. I remember my brother participating in the Boy Scout derbys when I was little, so I thought it would be fun to participate. Then I got my bag of materials. Hmm.

Refusing to give in to the I'm-in-over-my-head feeling, I set out to design my pinebox car entry. With a little help from my FIL, MIL, and Dave, I created a truck for racing. It was meant to be modeled after the NASCAR Craftsman racing trucks, but it ended up looking a little more like a supped-up pick-up. Oh well. It was fun!

The beginnings....

The finished product...


In the end, my truck tied for 3rd place in the racing division.

Here are some of the other entries...there was a racing division and a creative division.

Playing with Pictures

On one of the blogs that I read, the author mentioned that she had recently found the program Smilebox. It allows you to create photo albums for your blog (complete templates -- all you have to add are the pictures). I thought that sounded kind of cool, so I've been playing around with it some.

Here is my experiment...

Make a Smilebox scrapbook

Family Portraits

In celebration of my grandmother's 85th birthday this week, my extended family gathered in the great metropolis of Raleigh to celebrate, but of course, no Wilkins/Garrard family gathering is complete without a few family portraits. This year, we went all out, even requiring immediate family groups to color-coordinate. The Canady clan wore red. The photo "session" was hot, but the pictures turned out pretty great.

The grandkids and great grandkids. I think this picture turned out great! Our moms/aunts usually make us take this kind of picture on a staircase (a tradition that started LONG ago!), but I think this one looks just as good...especially since there are so many of us now!

The Canady clan.

Three generations of Wilkins/Garrard women. Grandmother with her three daughters and three granddaughters.

Me and Dave. I feel like we're posing for prom pictures. :-)

My new favorite picture of us.

And, finally...playing in the gazebo!

Conviction

So, it's no secret that I've lost quite a bit of weight. In many ways, following the Weight Watchers plan has changed my life. My body has changed dramatically over the past year and a half, but really, the journey has just begun. One of the big pulls of Weight Watchers is that it is a lifestyle change, not a diet. And I've embraced that whole-heartedly. I know that I am going to have to track what I eat for the rest of my life. Sometimes that seems like a lot to deal with, but then I think about the benefits of sticking with it, and I realize that it's completely worth it. Weight Watchers has become a part of my life -- I think about the plan, I read message boards from others involved, I take time to plan out my meals, I talk to others about it. Just this morning, I was talking with a co-worker who was discouraged about her weight and encouraging her that it is absolutely possible to do something about it.

As I was thinking about that exchange, a thought struck me. If I'm this passionate about something as silly as weight loss, shouldn't I be even more passionate about my faith? Following Weight Watchers has helped me improve my health and fit into smaller clothes, but following Christ has saved me from eternal damnation and blessed me beyond belief. I mean, it's not even a comparison, is it?

And yet, it seems so hard to live that way sometimes. But I want to. I really want to. I'm reminded of the story of the child who reasoned that if God was bigger than everything and He lived inside of us, then shouldn't He stick out? So, that's my prayer today: that God would be so big inside of me that He sticks out...no matter what size my body is.

Independence Day

Hope you and yours had a lovely 4th of July. Ours was nice -- family, good food, and a little kids parade. The little kids in my parent's neighborhood decorated their bikes and hot wheels and power wheels (the hummer was my favorite!) and paraded down the neighborhood streets. The parade was short, but it was cute.

The best part about the parade was that it reminded me of my childhood -- the neighborhood I lived in in elementary school used to do the same thing. My friends and I would spend days decorating our bikes with streamers and balloons, planning out our most patriotic outfits, and painting our fingernails red, white, and blue (alternating, of course!).

Since that time, the way I celebrate the 4th has changed a little. While I hated fireworks as a kid (WAY too loud), I love them now. One of the best displays I've ever seen was in Richmond one summer when I was in college. That was the first time I had ever seen fireworks in the shape of a smiley face. Very cool.

Other years have been a little tougher to celebrate. In both 2000 and 2003, the 4th holiday arrived not long after I returned to the U.S. from living in another country. Reverse culture shock can really mess with your head.

These days, I'm glad to be in the good 'ole U.S. of A. We have so much to be thankful for and so many brave men and women to be thankful to.

This nation will remain the land of the free only so long as it is the home of the brave. ~Elmer Davis

You have to love a nation that celebrates its independence every July 4, not with a parade of guns, tanks, and soldiers who file by the White House in a show of strength and muscle, but with family picnics where kids throw Frisbees, the potato salad gets iffy, and the flies die from happiness. You may think you have overeaten, but it is patriotism. ~Erma Bombeck