Small Stuff

Mad Cat

Get down!

My Guy just yelled at the cat, but only after a loud crash in the vicinity of our dining room.

Sophie … the likely suspect … left my office with an attitude moments before the commotion.

PLEASE. PLEASE! Open the window.

She begged this all day. The featured image at the very top shows her this morning … that’s not a pretty fog in the background. That’s smoke at 10:00 in the morning.

Sophie is so confused. She runs from window to window. She pounds on the glass in furious repetitions with her little paws. She whines. She even took a swipe at me with her claws … just close enough to let me know that she’s not playing, but not so close as to draw blood and get herself in big trouble.

Why won’t I let her indulge in her usual bird and dog watching/listening? Don’t I know how much she loves every sound of life outside our windows? And it’s not even winter when I can be expected to be stingy and not let cold air in and expensive heat out.

Unsuccessful at swaying me, after trying on and off for hours, she sulked out of the room and threw a cat-tantrum, knocking something heavy enough to make a huge thump off of the table downstairs. I didn’t hear the sound of shattering glass, so I’m not going to investigate. I’m a little worn out too.

It’s been like this all day today … and all day yesterday … and if the forecasts hold true, Sophie might have reason to keep up the tantrums into tomorrow.

Her problem?

Smoke.

We’re surrounded by a thick layer of faux fog. What should be a reason to pull out pumpkin spice and sweaters … is not. It’s not an early autumn fog, but smoke … smoke from fires near and far … trapped in a weather pattern that has it hovering over every town and city in the state … seeping into our homes … into our very pores.

We took a quick drive to check on our garden in a little town 15 minutes away. On a normal day, the background would be filled in with a forested line of hills, just inside the Idaho border.

Eerie.

The smoke is a cruel reminder of the devastating fires that decimated at least 95 homes and 100 other structures just 30 minutes from us … not even a week ago. A Labor Day firestorm … a storm that has scarred far more than the territory.

With fires all over Washington, Oregon, and California … and now the smoke … we’re all a little on edge.

The way of life here in rural Eastern Washington is that we depend on our volunteer fire departments. That means that every time fire fighters are needed, an alarm goes off at the local fire station, alerting farmers in the field or others who may not have seen their cell phone or heard their pager. Cell reception here is spotty and unreliable so the alarm is necessary.

We’ve heard the alarm way too many times the last few weeks. With an unusual dry August, farmers have had to battle field fires on top of helping with the tragedy in Malden. Now, every time we hear the fire trucks roar through town, it’s in the back of all of our minds … Malden … how quickly it burned … they had 10 minutes to get out.

It’s in the back of all of our minds … fear of a fire overtaking our town. What used to be unheard of is now a worry.

But we try to act normal.

Our volunteer system is sometimes confusing to newcomers because the noon whistle is an old tradition here as in many rural towns throughout our county. The fire alarm also goes off at noon every day to signal lunchtime. To try and eliminate confusion, a separate noontime alarm has been moved from the fire station to our main street, right above the library. It goes off promptly at lunch time (which is 11:57 AM in our town … apparently, no one wants to be late for lunch around here). Hardly anyone gets rattled by that alarm … except maybe me. I work in the library, so get a good jolt when I happen to be there at noon … I mean … at 11:57 AM.

To get back to Sophie’s tantrum … the source of her problems is not so much the smoke as it is me. Of all the challenges of this last year … COVID, lockdowns, family crisis, the blizzards of the winter before. Of it all, the smoke is hardest on me.

I find it hard to breath, as every one does. But even more so, I struggle with a choking sense of claustrophobia … I hate not being able to see … to not have a good sense of where I’m going … or of what’s coming. Fog has a similar affect on my nerves. More than once we’ve driven across the state when it’s been entirely enshrouded with fog. Sad to confess, but I was tense and snippy the whole time, insistent that My Guy keep his eyes sharply on the road. Fog or thick smoke … they both make me feel very vulnerable.

I’ve had thoughts of crawling back in bed and pulling a book close or even just going under the covers and trying to sleep the day away. But even with every window shut tight and with diffusers in every room and vinegar simmering on the kitchen stove to purify the air, our drafty old house can’t stop the smoke smells from creeping in. Trying to hide from the smoke only made me more aware of it.

People who know me well, think of me as pretty tough. Well … this is my kryptonite. It’s not a fear of fires … it the feeling of suffocation and being trapped. These kinds of feelings put me on the edge of panic … just to be real.

So … I can give in to that edge of panic … or try to turn it into a better than hoped for day.

My List for Coping:

plug in decorative strand of lights in the kitchen
fill up the diffuser with calming oils
get out battery powered candles that we use during the holidays
upbeat music … my style of upbeat is the Piano Guys at an earsplitting level. I know … I’m a wild one
check in with the kids (our adult children) on Face Time
check in on friends who had family that had to evacuate because of the threat of one of the major fires (all is okay now)
check the forecast to remind myself that this WILL end
meditate and pray … give thought to what the people in Malden endured as smoke and fire raced upon them with little time to respond … of the people in Oregon who lost whole towns as well … of firefighters who never get a breath of fresh air as they fight to save the property and lives of strangers
pray for the families who tragically lost loved ones … and remind myself that my struggle to breath is nothing
pray for resilience for all of us
distract the cat (and myself) with treats … cat treats for her … people treats for me

What did not make it on my list is open the windows.

And Sophie is still sulking about that.

Poor, mad cat.

Thank you for reading “Small Stuff”. This is the second of two blogs sites that I keep. You can find more on my thought&faith blog at rashellbud.wordpress.com. Wishing you a beautiful day full of the Small Stuff that transforms life into BIG STUFF.

A note to my “silent” readers … thank you for taking the time out of your busy day to read my work. I’ve learned that many of you are shy about commenting or hitting the like button, but I want you to know that I appreciate your visits and invite you into the conversations whenever you are ready.

Wishing you peace in all things … Shelly

Fire Season

Fire season …

Unfortunately, it’s a thing around here.

No one in the Pacific Northwest is ever truly immune. Forest, deserts, harvest season on acres and acres of dusty, dried wheat fields … it’s all tinder waiting for the slightest spark.

We’ve all been holding our breath because 2020 has been such a wicked year already. But … sadly … we’re not getting a pass on this one.

Washington (my state), Oregon, California, and even my very close neighbor, Idaho … we’re all on fire.

As I sit in my “creator’s space” on this unusually warm September evening with my window open and type … all I can smell is “campfire”. Only, this would be the eeriest of campfires as I’m sure no one around me would dare to light a fire pit or sneak in one more fire for the season. We’ve been shaken too hard in the last 72 hours … the Malden/Pine City fire (if you’ve missed the news, they’re the never-heard-of-before rural towns that lost over 95 homes in just a few short hours on Labor Day) are only 30 minutes from us.

This photo of Pine City (part of the Malden fire) was posted by one of our local fire fighters on the Tekoa Fire_Whitman County Fire #1 Facebook page.

Our volunteer fire department and local farmers dropped everything and rushed to battle the blazes. As news got out, volunteers delivered water, coffee, pizzas, and other food. Posts flew across Facebook announcing that people had trucks and trailers ready to haul livestock and personal items if needed. Farmers emptied fertilizer trucks and loaded up with water. Churches in a near by town immediately opened up to provide shelter. Another town, which battled blazes of its own and lost four homes earlier that same day, gathered up water, sleeping bags, personal hygiene items and more to be delivered as night was falling.

Even as the smoke clears, it’s still hard to breath … not because of the air quality … but because of the realizations that are setting in. Friends … family … co-workers … they have nothing … in an instant they’re starting over.

That could be any of us.

And it still could be.

I had people coming to one of the tiny libraries I manage to recharge computers and use the internet. “Could I refill my water bottles?” one sweet gentleman politely asked.

He and his wife are two of several in the area out of power because the fire wiped out power poles. One person said 40 poles were down … another person responded and said, “Oh no … it’s more like 400.”

Whatever it is, several of our rural neighbors are sitting ducks of sorts … surrounded by the stubble of freshly harvested fields … continuing hot temperatures … no electricity and NO WELLS. They’re kind of helpless. Even those with generators, aren’t fully operational. The power company hopes to have power restored by Friday but there are no guarantees. Temps are climbing … we’re back in the 80’s with 90 degrees predicted by Sunday before finally cooling off next week.

I drove to Colfax yesterday – our county seat and one of the other towns hit hard with fire on Labor day – to drop off books and materials to our “mothership library” and to mourn with other staff over the complete loss of our Malden library as well as the town’s city hall, community center, fire department, and post office. Worse, our librarian there lost her home … and yet, she was already busy, finding ways to help her neighbors.

This is the post office in Malden. Photo came from a friend’s FB post, but I’ve also seen it on a news site. Sorry, I don’t know the original source.

Along the drive, I couldn’t help but notice how many farms had sprinklers going full force in the middle of the day, trying to create a wide berth of green, moist ground around their homes and out buildings. (These folks, thankfully, are on a different power grid and didn’t lose their pumps.)

Out-of-control fires are yet burning to the north and west of us … likely why the air reeks like a giant campfire. Reports are coming in of more and more homes lost. And now there is news of two children in different situations who succumbed.

So … so … heart breaking.

Just before I started writing tonight, the town fire siren went off. Those who are not part of the volunteer force stepped into their yards … crossed the streets to neighbors. Where were the trucks headed? Did anyone see smoke? Is anyone saying anything on FB? Is it Malden again?

Turned out to be a tractor that caught on fire … it was quickly put out and all were safe. A local farmer told me earlier in the week that nearly every farmer he knew had problems with tractors and combines starting fires in the fields this year. “We didn’t get our August rains. That usually settles dust and chaff mid-harvest. It’s been really bad out there without that rain.”

The heart break is widespread … friends on the west side of the Cascades have had to evacuate. Densely populated areas are up in flames … even in the south end of Tacoma. Flames near the mall threatened the school where I formerly taught and where our kids attended. Last I heard, the fire was not out, but under control and the threat pass. With unusual 90 degree temps there yesterday and light winds, concerns rode high.

And then there’s Oregon … several towns wipe out … beyond devastating. Confirmation is coming that some of those fires had natural causes, but that others were set by arsonists. Suspicions of arson are circulating in Washington too. Let’s pray not. What heartless, idiot …

I won’t go there …

Back to my original thoughts …

The number of fires are crazy to fathom, but huge fires are nothing new here. I remember my father, a member of our local, volunteer fire department, being called out many times. One memory especially sticks out of him being gone for several days to a fire “over the hill” in Idaho … in the forests surrounding Potlatch.

Two or three days into it, Mom and our friend piled five kids into the car and drove to deliver sandwiches, coffee, and cold cokes to the crew.

I picture still, my dad, leaning heavily on a shovel beside our car, hardly recognizable from the soot on his face … sweat caked to his sideburns … black silver dollars under his eyes.

Few people remember that fire or talk of it any more. There have been more since … worse ones … they’re talked of for awhile … then tucked behind as we sojourn on to the next set of life’s challenges.

“We survive these kinds of things,” I remember my grandmother saying. “That’s what country people … what farmers do. They plant another crop … build another house … dream another dream.” Maybe grandma wasn’t quite that poetic or Pollyanna-ish but she said something very close to that when I asked what people do after fires and storms take everything.

In the case of Malden … that probably exactly what they’ll do.

City of Malden viewed from a drone. Picture is from a friend’s FB post.

Thank you for reading “Small Stuff”. This is the second of two blogs sites that I keep. You can find more on my thought&faith blog at rashellbud.wordpress.com. Wishing you a beautiful day full of the Small Stuff that transforms life into BIG STUFF.

A note to my “silent” readers … thank you for taking the time out of your busy day to read my work. I’ve learned that many of you are shy about commenting or hitting the like button, but I want you to know that I appreciate your visits and invite you into the conversations whenever you are ready.

Wishing you peace in all things … Shelly

Wordless Wednesday – Wonder

This is the original post I had scheduled for today, but I’m finding it a hard day to stay Wordless.

I live in an area hard hit by the Pacific Northwest fires.

I’m sitting here wondering about this newborn that we recently stumbled upon in a recent jaunt into our beautiful region … I’m wondering if he and his mother are safe. My heart hurts as I think of all the wildlife in Washington, Oregon, and California displaced and terrified.

I’m wondering about our friends on the west side of the state where fires have encroached into suburban neighborhoods. Friends have had to evacuate … the school where I used to teach is threatened with a fire burning all around its neighborhood. With an unheard of hot and windy day in the forecast for this time of year and that area, those who had to leave aren’t likely to know the outcome for some time.

I’m wondering about the tiny community just 20 miles from us … Malden … that is suddenly known by everyone in the country. A until-now-nameless, sleepy town lost 80% of their homes and buildings … the fire department, city hall, community center, library … all gone. You’ve probably seen pictures of the devastation in the news. These are our friends … our extended community … our reason to set down what we’re doing and help.

If you are a praying person, I thank you for praying. It’s overwhelming … I know. So much to pray for this year … but in our small town, most of us are the kind who believe that the cataclysmic events of this year are best handed over to the hand of Someone who can give us the strength to continue on and the peace to know that we can overcome.

I guess at that … I am wordless and speechless … for now.

Thank you for reading “Small Stuff”. This is the second of two blogs. You can find more on my thought&faith blog at rashellbud.wordpress.com. Wishing you a beautiful day full of the Small Stuff that transforms life into BIG STUFF.

A note to my “silent” readers … thank you for taking the time out of your busy day to read my work. I’ve learned that many of you are shy about commenting or hitting the like button, but I want you to know that I appreciate your visits and invite you into the conversations whenever your ready.

Wishing you peace in all things … Shelly

Wordless Wednesday – Family Time

Who knew beavers were so affectionate. I’ve been watching this little family all summer.

Thank you for reading “Small Stuff”. This is the second of two blogs. You can find more on my thought&faith blog at rashellbud.wordpress.com. Wishing you a beautiful day full of the Small Stuff that transforms life into BIG STUFF.

A note to my “silent” readers … thank you for taking the time out of your busy day to read my work. I’ve learned that many of you are shy about commenting or hitting the like button, but I want you to know that I appreciate your visits and invite you into the conversations whenever your ready.

Wishing you peace in all things … Shelly

Wordless Wednesday (A Little Late)- Stare Down

Who’s watching who? Sometimes it’s hard to tell.

When you thought you hit the “schedule button” but didn’t, you get to choose between having a tardy post or waiting until next week to look all organized. I’m going for the tardy, product-of-an-eclectic-mind approach. Enjoy a little Wednesday on Thursday!

Our cats invest hours of each day observing the doings at the bird feeder just outside the window from their perch. One day, I caught the birds staring back.

Thank you for reading “Small Stuff”. This is the second of two blogs. You can find more on my thought&faith blog at rashellbud.wordpress.com. Wishing you a beautiful day full of the Small Stuff that transforms life into BIG STUFF.

A note to my “silent” readers … thank you for taking the time out of your busy day to read my work. I’ve learned that many of you are shy about commenting or hitting the like button, but I want you to know that I appreciate your visits and invite you into the conversations whenever your ready.

Wishing you peace in all things … Shelly

Creating Space 2

It felt so good to organize my office and creative space that I had to write a post about it. Part I is here.

A place to write, craft, think, read, pray, pay bills, listen to music, read old letters.

A place to be interrupted.

Every day … every night … everywhere … here’s Sophie. Her cat attitude insists that no space meant for inspiration has any worth if she’s not at the center of it all. Darn cat … elusive when we initiate affection … demanding when she feels that she’s being ignored. I once had a 15-year-old in a lit class compare the temperament of a cat to that of his girlfriend in the same terms I just used. I hate to think it … but he was spot on in describing women in general. (Not all women, of course!)

Sophie is a high maintenance feline. She’s a talker and a clinger but NOT a cuddler.

To balance her out, we got her a playmate. This is Simba.

Sophie was not impressed with our choice of companions. It’s been six years … still not impressed. I won’t go so far as to say that Sophie hates Simba. I don’t think cats lower themselves to hatred. Disdain. That sums up Sophies attitude for that “other” cat in our house.

I should insert that My Guy and I kinda get Sophie’s point about Simba. We love him, but he’s not especially affectionate either, unless you are willing to put in 8 hours a day scratching his head. That’s it. You can only scratch him behind his ears and under his chin. He has a stealthy way of tricking you into thinking that you can pet him all over … then WHACK! He scratches you in half of a blink, and he has a high batting average for drawing blood.

Dang cat.

We get our revenge with the red laser light. Forever … he’ll run and chase that light, leaping into the air, burning calories by racing from the kitchen to the living room. Jokes certainly on him though … we know and he apparently doesn’t … that he’ll NEVER catch that red spot.

When I first started blogging, articles insisted that it was good to write about anything that interested me… anything except CATS. “Don’t fill up your posts with photos and stories of your cat. You’ll bore your readers.”

I don’t follow rules well.

But … this is a post about organizing a creative space and having a peace of “normalcy” in the mild of a pandemic and daily political tensions.While it’s fun to distract myself with cat photos and stories, I really have no excuse to not get back to work on projects. My button jars are glaring down from the shelf … urging me to plan ahead rather than wait two weeks before the holidays, when people start contacting me to see if I have any more cows or trees. (Maybe I need to add cats this year.)

As I think about how much I love having a crafting/creating space all to myself, (almost all … don’t forget Sophie) a few things occur to me:

I was browsing through Pinterest today and realized that several years ago I started saving ideas under “Craft Room”. The Pinterest versions and my results are vastly different and not necessarily in a good way. Oh well.
My Nikon takes much better photos than my iPhone. I’m sure you can tell which is which in this post.
I find crafting with buttons to be very relaxing. I am not a natural born artist (if an artist at all) and know that my pictures find their charm in nostalgia (these are OLD buttons … not your typical crafting buttons) more than talent, but there’s something about filtering through hundreds of buttons and forming them into something interesting to look at. It’s like putting together a jigsaw puzzle.
Sophie wants me to finish up this post and check her food bowl. Most likely she can see the bottom … a major source of alarm in our house.

Thank you for reading “Small Stuff”. This is the second of two blogs sites that I keep. You can find more on my thought&faith blog at rashellbud.wordpress.com. Wishing you a beautiful day full of the Small Stuff that transforms life into BIG STUFF.

A note to my “silent” readers … thank you for taking the time out of your busy day to read my work. I’ve learned that many of you are shy about commenting or hitting the like button, but I want you to know that I appreciate your visits and invite you into the conversations whenever your ready.

Wishing you peace in all things … Shelly

Garden Confessions

I have a confession to make.

I do not like gardening.

But I like gardens.

It’s complicated.

I like planting things … watching them grow … anticipating color and edible results … taking credit for beautiful flowers and crunchy vegetables.

It’s the weeding, watering, battling bugs part and then wondering what to do with all this green stuff My Guy won’t eat … that’s where the complications come in. I’m also not a fan of being in the garden on windy or wet days … a must do around here if you plan to get anything started in the Spring. Guess that makes me one of those fair-weather variety of gardeners.

HOWEVER …

In a Covid-stained world, a garden … something alive and bright … feels more important to me than my discomfort, so I battled the “Ugh’s” and set to it. Another motivation has been the bareness of our yard. When we moved in, all that broke up the monotony of yellowish green lawn (Can you call it a lawn when it’s made up largely of weeds?) was a smattering of daffodils and orange tulips along the front porch that our landlord kindly planted prior to our arrival. Oh, and two stubborn hollyhocks survived the town maintenance crew’s attempt to recover alleyways by spraying down weeds.

So … short on resources and green thumb magic, My Guy and I have set about adding color and texture to the place. The yellowish green weed-lawn still is the most prolific thing that grows, but you could say that we’re coming along.

Pause button.

There’s one more confession needed here before I share more pictures. Living in a rural community, I am surrounded by amazing gardens and gardeners. Some of them have been kind enough to let me photograph their gardens. I won’t post those pictures this time, because the confession is that these amazing gardens have brought out the competitive side in me.

Maybe it’s a little nicer to myself to say that they have inspired me. The point is, I could never compete with these master gardeners or the settings in which their gardens grow. So, to not distract from our meager accomplishments, I’m not going to post those pictures this time. Yes … this means that my efforts are pitiful next to there’s so I’m not going to highlight it more than necessary at the moment.

It’s going to take a long, eternity-like, long time to create something as serene and awe-inspiring as these garden whizzes around here. It’s fun though, making it our own.

Three Last Confessions:

Garden gloves are for sissies.

I lied about garden gloves … I don’t use them because I’m too lazy to hunt down where I threw them last … even though I own a Costco-load of gloves.

I will put on gloves if it means plucking slugs off of plants … and full disclosure … I have been known to huck a slug barehanded over the fence a time or two. I was aiming for the alley, but with my aim and the ickiness of a slug against my skin … well, I may or may not have populated the neighbor’s garden with a few extra slugs. (Disclaimer: this was my OLD garden back in the city … we do not have slugs here … thank God!)

From back yard to table. Well … not the ribs … but all the veggies.

This is my compost pile. It only makes it into this post because of all the sunflowers that volunteered. Thanks to the squirrels,
the yard is of full of flowers I did not plant. Of course!

Thank you for reading “Small Stuff”. This is the second of two blogs. You can find more on my thought&faith blog at rashellbud.wordpress.com. Wishing you a beautiful day full of the Small Stuff that transforms life into BIG STUFF.

A note to my “silent” readers … thank you for taking the time out of your busy day to read my work. I’ve learned that many of you are shy about commenting or hitting the like button, but I want you to know that I appreciate your visits and invite you into the conversations whenever your ready.

Wishing you peace in all things … Shelly

Wordless Wednesday – Curiosity

Thank you for reading “Small Stuff”. This is the second of two blogs. You can find more on my thought&faith blog at rashellbud.wordpress.com. Wishing you a beautiful day full of the Small Stuff that transforms life into BIG STUFF.

A note to my “silent” readers … thank you for taking the time out of your busy day to read my work. I’ve learned that many of you are shy about commenting or hitting the like button, but I want you to know that I appreciate your visits and invite you into the conversations whenever your ready.

Wishing you peace in all things … Shelly

Creating Space

It’s only taken two years, but I finally have an office space/craft room.

There are no before pictures, but you can take my word that it was a mess. Three moves in three years left me lacking motivation. Plus, there was that nagging thought, “Are we really staying put here?”

That question was settled shortly after our landlords asked us if we wanted to buy the house. Our first response was “no!” Fixing up a very old house seemed daunting … BUT not as daunting as moving AGAIN. So we changed our minds and here we are, making things truly our own. I should clarify, that for the moment, making things our own is not anything like a “Chip & Joanna Makeover”. I’m talking about pulling things out of boxes and using what I have to create a fun, usable space. Chip & Joanna we are not. Nor is this a Pinterest-worthy craft room … I didn’t paint any furniture, build any cabinets or make anything match. Like I said, I just organized what I had.

Two things in particular have inspired me to organize my “creating space” where, next to my garden, I spend most of my time when at home. (Notice that I did not say that most of my time is in the kitchen. My Guy, sadly, will vouch for that.)

The first inspiration? Leftover glass jars from a yard sale last year. We helped a friend sell decades worth of possessions. Among the junk were boxes and boxes of canning jars, but after watching 3 or 4 boxes quickly walk away, we must of hit the saturation point with those who like to can in our community. Suddenly they were the most ignored item at the sale. Feeling bad about the possibility of sending the jars to a thrift store (but not bad enough to start canning myself), I decided that I might just need them after all. So while some would see them well suited for green bean or peaches, I have filled my jars with buttons.

Having them out and organized … well, sort of organized … is meant to inspire me to keep on creating. This is probably weird, but I love to just sit in my desk chair and look at them. Makes me happy for some completely unknown reason.

Second inspiration was a shelf.

The shelf was among Mom’s possessions. We lost Mom to illness this year and have been sorting through her things as she left instructions for us to do so.

I think it was the shelf that used to be under the kitchen window on the back porch of my childhood home, although it looked different somehow. A cheerful spot on the porch, it was sad and cast off in the corner of the dark storage room, weighted down with neglect and dust. Like a whimpering puppy in the pet shop window, it begged me to make it useful, and I’m quite pleased with the results.

The shelf is cheerful again; the keeper of some of my favorite things, like the button-filled-jars. What you see in the pictures is just the tip of the iceberg. I started collecting buttons as a kid. “Everybody needs at least one thing they collect,” Mom always said. My one big jar of buttons was forgotten when I went off to college, but Mom kept collecting for me. The results are rather overwhelming, but have led me to creating button magnets and button pictures … mostly Christmas trees and cows (you can hunt for a partially visible cow in one of the pictures … the trees are out right now). And I’ve tried my hand at something off the cuff like the owl below.

This whole space has become about favorite things; things that inspire me to write or to craft or just to be thankful. It’s a jumble really … but now, a much more organized jumble of things like …

Family photos. There are couple of doozies of My Guy, discovered when our daughter invaded his selfies folder on his phone. It was for a good cause though, as he had taken quite ill and was in a comma for several days. She “threatened” to post one of his goofy selfies each day that he didn’t wake up until he came back to us. Thankfully, I think he heard her! When I get stuck on a project, whether writing or crafting, I push back my chair and look into the faces of people who have shaped my life and find new vigor.

Journals. Journal writing started in 3rd or 4th grade. It has been very sporadic over the years but has resulted in a big box of musings. What will I do with them? I have no I idea … I hardly ever look inside of them. But somehow they made it into “favorite things” category.

Books. Among my favorite authors are Jan Karon, Ray Bradbury, O. Henry, Beverly Clearly (as in Romana the Pest), C.S. Lewis, and books about Abraham Lincoln. That’s an odd assortment, right?

Cookbooks. They should probably be in the kitchen, but that would be for someone who actually cooks. I look. I don’t cook (much). Think that has been well established in this post.

Scrapbook papers. I don’t even keep scrapbooks any more, but it feels neglectful to walk past one of the $5 sales at Michaels and not bring home a new collection of beautiful papers. Part of the magic of this room is having things on hand should inspiration strike.

Stacks of my photos, They represent more and future projects … some of which I hope to frame and several which will become greeting cards. I used to do that in the past and am finally coming around to time with the camera again.

Paints. Kind of falls into the scrap book paper category.

Baskets. Do I need to explain why I love baskets?

My dad’s journals. What a treasure trove they have been.

Old family letters. Old … like my mom and dad’s generation … when people actually wrote to each other … when long distance calling was only for emergencies and texting not even dreamed of.

Paper clips and scissors … must haves in my life. I get huffy when all of my scissors “walk off” and feel panicked when low on paper clips. Like I said, must haves!

My camera.

My laptop.

Lots of light …especially in the morning.

Do you have a “creator’s space?” What do you like best about it? Feel free to post a picture and share what you love about it.

Finally in full disclosure, I did not include the photo of the stack of school supplies and past lessons stacked five crates high and three crates wide behind the door. Oh well … progress is progress, even if there is more work to be done.

Thank you for reading “Small Stuff”. This is the second of two blogs. You can find more on my “Thought Blog” at rashellbud.wordpress.com. Wishing you a beautiful day full of the Small Stuff that transforms life into BIG STUFF.

Wordless Wednesday – Thundering Hoofbeats … No More

Saying Goodbye to the Iron Horse Arena. Once a gathering spot in our small town, its days are done. Yet can’t you still hear the thundering of hoofbeats and the shouts of cowboys?

Thank you for reading “Small Stuff”. This is the second of two blogs. You can find more on my “Thought Blog” at rashellbud.wordpress.com. Wishing you a beautiful day full of the Small Stuff that transforms life into BIG STUFF.