Skirts.

Yes. They are for sale. They ride 1-2 inches below the waist, zip at the side and are floor length.
I don't currently own a tape measure, and I can't remember their sizes, but I'm guessing the floral flowers is a 12, the buttons are a 10, the hearts are an 8 and the vinework is a long size 2. Please pass this link on and let me know if I can get you anymore information!

Thanks!
-Joanna

Rainy Day Ramblings

How beautiful is the rain! After the dust and heat,
In the broad and fiery street,
In the narrow lane,
How beautiful is the rain!

How it clatters along the roofs,
Like the tramp of hoofs
How it gushes and struggles out
From the throat of the overflowing spout!

Across the window-pane
It pours and pours;
And swift and wide,
With a muddy tide,
Like a river down the gutter roars
The rain, the welcome rain!

-H W Longfellow

Fall is almost here. That excites me. I love fall. I love crunchy leaves and cold misty mornings. I love brisk air that tastes like bonfires and leather and apple cider. I love cozy sweaters and hats and soft gloves. I love the cold cheeks and fingers when you pick up a baby that's been playing their carefree little hearts out in the deliciously pure world. I love the sound of geese and the cold wind that takes your breath away. I love the rich colors that the trees put on, the gourds and pumpkins and dried corn that people decorate the entire world with, the hay bales that smell like a carefully preserved memory of summer. I love the way that families pack together for dinners and parties and friends stand in tightly packed groups to catch each others' warmth. I love sweet potatoes and caramel popcorn and peanut brittle and apple pie.

What I DON'T love is the garish orange and black that's invading the grocery stores, the playfulness that people put into death and demonism, the ugly, aching, empty cultures that they exalt and fill their children's hearts and minds with, glorifying and justifying a world where there is no light, no joy, no Jesus... and we wonder why child suicide rates are so high, why 11 and 12 year old girls are seeking their fulfillment in relationships that leave them broken and confused with either the guilt of an abortion forever weighing on their hearts or a child that they've given away because people convince them that they aren't mature enough to love... It's because "the human spirit fails except where the Holy Spirit fills," as Corrie ten Boom once said. When we sap the light and freedom of Christ out of their lives and replace Him with the "thrills" of darkness, then how can we expect anything else? We hand them things that we consider gifts, like friends, social experience, education, "stability", when what we're actually giving to them is a whole world of burden and knowledge that God did not create their tender hearts to carry.

*steps down from soap box*

So there. I've had my rant for the day. Now I can get back to work. There's plenty to do today, but the rain has been lullabying my sense of duty into silence and my sense of veg is in control.

Final note(s), an AWESOME Andrew Murray quote defining "humility."

“Humility is to expect nothing, to wonder at nothing done to us, to feel nothing against us. It is to be at rest when nobody praises us and when we are blamed and despised. It is to have a blessed home in the Lord where we can go in and shut the door and kneel to our Father in secret, and be at peace when all around is trouble.” - Andrew Murray

AND, A picture from my wedding that I've photoshopped with the idea of blowing it up and framing it in brown and gold and hanging it over our bed:

Thanks so much for reading! God bless you, my dear readers.

-Joanna Renae

Like a river flows surely to the sea
Darling so it goes
Some things are meant to be
Take my hand, take my whole life too
For I cant help falling in love with you

First entry?

This is my fourth blog. Yep. Fourth. My first one was when I was 15, and I've never truly quit. When I dropped my blog for the sake of Facebook, I still wrote notes, lots of notes, until I realized that it's a faux pas to publish perpetual notes on your facebook profile and it's an even greater no-no to tag your friends in them.*

So what's the point of blogging? For me, it's a hope that I've made someone I care about smile. Even if it's just a little smile, then the fact that I induced it means that I've somehow improved their day. If that smile can be related to some thought or revelation concerning the beauty of our ever-present and all merciful Lord, then perhaps I've improved their life. If that smile is due to their hearts being awakened to His truth, and the perfect work of salvation being completed in them by the power of His blood, then perhaps He has been merciful enough as to allow me to be an instrument in improving their eternity.

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So, That being said, I suppose I'll just jump into blogging as if you've all been reading my posts on a regular basis or as long as you can remember, and tell you about the ants that have infiltrated my world.

They're everywhere.

Or at least, everywhere between the small bit of loose trim that they come into the livingroom through and the microwave in the kitchen. I've been killing them in groups of 20 or 30, smashing, drowning, grinding into the linoleum, pouring boiling liquid over, etc.

Now I have Terro. It's my great joy and delight to see the ants swarming all over the sticky fluid, getting staggeringly drunk on it and returning to their homes. (one just was foolish enough to crawl up my computer screen. It's dead.) The Terro kills them slowly enough that they get to make it home, feed the kids and deposit their earnings into the colony's cash box before meeting their demise, meaning that they unknowingly poison their families for me.

It's a cunning little system. I like it.

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Tuesday night Quinn and I went to a faculty recital at Missouri State. Dr. David Hays (violin) played with Mia Haynes (piano) and Alexander East (cello) in two Piano trios. The first by Beethoven, the second by Brahms. Dr. Hays seemed rather bored with both pieces, but he's an excellent enough musician that he didn't detract from from the beauty of it all by any means. It was fantastic. After the recital we went to Mudhouse for some hot tea and picked up the Wall Street Journal. The first article was borderline tragic- Disney has bought out Marvel Comics. I'm feeling a little intimedated by the prospect of a Disney-made version of Captain America or worse: a toddler's version of Wolverine. Watch them give Hugh Jackman a hydrocephalous head, little bitty hands like the guys in the Burger King commercials and light-up plush claws and market him to 18 month old babies. Oh they'd love him.

Right.

Anyway, moving on. The second article we read, you just have to read for yourself. If you're eating, I'd refrain for the time being. (see rule 7.) If you're from Paris or NYC, I'd refrain in general:

Parisian Behavior Brigade

(another ant just dared the computer screen. Unfortunate fool.)

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Finaly got a bedspread for the bedroom.



Wasn't planning on going blue, but seems that I am. Had to clear all my purple out, and it's now going to be assigned to the khaki and green living room. The rooms are slowly devoloping their own color themes. The dining room is black and (working towards) sage, with bits of sandstone thrown in. The living room is working on being khaki/brown/purple and brick red. (it wants to go green, but I'm not letting it if I can help it.) The bathroom is going teal, lavender and chocolate brown, and the bedroom just became chocolate, gold and blue.

It's fun, picking up random pieces. This past week we inherited a small dresser that was the first piece of furniture that Quinn's grandparents bought when they got married in 1943. It's beautiful, heavy, and needs a little bit of touching up, but is a fantastic piece. Same day that Dayna passed that on to us, we also got to (pauses to squish another ant) pick up two Tiffany lamps that belonged to Aunt Iva. I'm still a little fuzzy on the Aunt Ida relationship, but I think I'm figuring it out. Lots of new aunts and uncles to remember now that I'm a Hampster.

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Praying that God's will be done over the next several weeks as we try to sort things out with our church. Hearts need to be tender and open to the Lord and people need to be willing to forgive and forget. Quinn and I blew a lot of things, really bad, but God is so gracious and we are so happy and blessed and eagerly looking forward to the future God has for our little family. I wake up in the mornings filled with awe over how richly my Jesus is pouring His life and joy over us. There is no end to His gentleness and mercy, and I will never be able to thank or praise Him enough. To Him be the glory, forever.

Thanks for reading-
Joanna Renae


If I had a box just for wishes
And dreams that had never come true
The box would be empty
Except for the memory
Of how they were answered by you -Jim Croce


*I have to admit, I still regularly fill out those stupid endless surveys and tag people in them. Sorry.