Making Paper Beads

Rose brought home some beautiful jewlery from Africa last fall.

Some of the colorfully beaded necklaces were made from paper.

Inspired, she got on Utube and found a how to video so that she could make her own paper beads,

just like the ones she saw African women make.  

It may have turned into an obsession.  She is certainly motivated. 

Rose can now manufacture 40 beads per hour.  Around 80 beads are needed for each necklace.

First, we weeded out some old magazines, and she cut them up into long rectangles, 

from 1 cm on the wide end, going all the way down an 8x10 sheet, 

to 1 inch on the wide end.

The wider the paper, the longer the bead.

Then, she rolls the paper onto a toothpick, starting with the wide end, 

and making sure the paper stays centered, and tight. 

At the end of the triangle, a little glue is needed to stick the end down.

Rose stabs her toothpicks through a cardboard box while the bead dries.

Once the beads are dried, Rose paints them with a craft varnish. 

Clear fingernail polish works really well too.  

Once painted, they are stuck back into the cardboard to dry, then they are done.

For stringing the beads, Rose uses a craft filament, placing eye beads in between the paper beads, 

and securing the necklace with a clasp hold.  

We have found that our children under 8 years old are not really able to make the beads,

and that 1 year olds LOVE ripping up magazine paper.

Thicker paper produces fatter beads. 

The African's paper of choice is cat food bags.

Really, any paper will do.

Wintery Walk

Every afternoon we can watch the deer crossing the meadow just below the house.

This day I counted 17.

With beautiful blue sky overhead,

my dear sweet husband insisted I get out for a walk down the freshly plowed driveway.  

Ahh it was good. 

I do love a walk in the afternoon. 

Refreshed, I am ready to face the rest of the day,

the demands of the little ones,

the responsibilities of so many tender hearts. 

It is easy to feel overwhelmed, 

torn in 10 different directions with the needs of those I live with.

  But I know in Whom my strength is, 

and I know that though my flesh fails, God is the strength of my heart. 

I am reminded that for eternity's sake, I must persevere when I feel like giving up.
And too, that if I have a clean house and homemade bread,
but have not love:  kindness and patience and gentleness...
I am not getting anywhere, I am accomplishing nothing.

As I walk through the door,
there they are,
the adorable little ones clamoring for my attention, 

all of them at once. 

How I can get grumpy with such lovable, wonderful children is suddenly a mystery.

Nearly every day we bake something or other to keep the littles from starving in midafternoon,
or so they claim.
Inticed by the aroma of fresh baked cookies,
Gabe comes out of his fort,
which today, he says, is Africa.

It is so important that we live each and every day to the full,
making the most of every moment.
Which means not giving in to the constant temptation to be snippy, grumpy, or irritable.
I am grateful for this perspective.
I know that the mother's role in the home is powerful,
I know that every moment matters.
and yet, I find I need that refreshing,
that time to get ahold of my attitude and renew my focus.

 This mama of littles is often drained by the challenges and relentlessness of parenting.
  But,  I am thankful that a mama's love is also instantly recharged
with a heartfelt smile from her child,
or a glance at the sleeping babe,
or the wet slobbery kiss of a three year old.

I have heard it said that the greatest reward for our work
is not what we get paid for it,
but what we become by it.
Thus, the Lord sanctifies me through my children,
and that is just one more reason they are a blessing.

 

It is amazing what a little walk can do.

Dinner and a Blizzard

Large fluffy flakes of snow have turned wet and icy,

diminishing our three feet of snow into a heavy compact of white, 

still falling yet, on day four,

frosting our winter wonderland in beauty, 

the kind of beauty one prefers to watch from inside. 

We are perfectly happy to spend these days home, 

all meetings and goings having been canceled.

Outdoors, a slippery, thick mess,

difficult to shovel and plow, 

sliding off the roof in thunderous heaps that shake the whole house.

Indoors, we are warm and cozy, and,

on a creative streak.

Rose has figured out how to make paper beads, like they do in Africa. 

She and Jim spent the better part of the afternoon

turning old magazines into beautiful beads 

that Rose can fabricate into colorful, long necklaces.

Anna set up a new sewing area near the fireside 

and made a much needed new apron.

It is so handy to have everything right at hand and organized,

that I sewed up two skirts for Bethany, something I have been going to do for months.

There are many lures of country life, 

but one must also consider the hardships of working outdoors in nasty conditions

to keep the road open, the paths to outdoor buildings to be shoveled, and the wood box filled. 

Then too, living in a wood heat only home

means that next to the fire may be the only warm place in the house.  

The farther one gets from the stove, the cooler it will be. 

Living on solar power during a four day storm means there is little natural electricity made,

and the generator and batteries will have to be turned on, watched, and turned off, 

the electricity usage in the house managed tightly.  

Therefor, the comforts afforded are all the more appreciated. 

When daylight fades, everyone starts to slow down and relax, 

looking forward to the pleasure of a good meal and a warm fire. 

The hearty, savory flavor of beef stew, or elk, in our case,

combined with Rose's beautiful honey oat bread 

made for an especially delectable dinner to close the day. 

We have been reading aloud in great lengths these long winter evenings, 

with one light spared to be on after dinner. 

The Little House series provides just the right occasion for all to gather near the fire, 

listening about that terrible long winter,

the great grasshopper weather,

and life in a soddy as only Laura Ingalls can tell.

Pa was right, I think, especially in a snowstorm, that

"Mid pleasures and palaces

though we may roam

Be it ever so humble

There's no place like home."

Sharing a Friend

Today I was perusing a friend's blog and thought it is too good to keep to myself,

so I simply must share.

My friend, Sherry, is a kindred spirit and a most inspiring domesticator. 

I encourage you to go over here and have a gander.

If you love Jesus, 

books, 

cooking, 

baking, 

sewing, 

crafting,

homeschooling,

  or creating a beautiful life for your family,

you won't be disappointed.