This is what you get...

When you combine equal parts...

French Braid tutorials

and good wine

With an extra helping of ME.  

A really sad attempt at my very first ever french braid.  Notice...I have baby find hair so you can barely tell what the heck is going on with my hair.  

Another glass of wine please!

Seattle is pretty...

...Even on a drizzly day, even when I'm wearing my glasses because I broke my contacts. Even on a day like this, I seriously love this place.

What do you know about Bhutan?

I'm not sure if you've heard about Bhutan's GNH (Gross National Happiness), but it inspired this artist to create an online art installation chronicling some of the people of Bhutan and what makes them happy...what they wish for.  The balloons symbolize happiness and the colors are as vibrant as the people.  I recommend taking a look and a listen.

One of the things that struck me, a brash American girl, is that so many of these folks are very soft spoken, even shy, hesitant to share such private thoughts; the artist/chronicler is so clear-spoken and delicate in his approach I found myself smiling ear to ear at these exchanges.

Enjoy and have a blessed Sunday!

Part VI

Psalm 104, verses 26 through 30

There go the ships: there is that leviathan, whom thou hast made to play therein.

These wait all upon thee; that thou mayest give them their meat in due season.

That thou givest them they gather: thou openest thine hand, they are filled with good.

Thou hidest thy face, they are troubled: thou takest away their breath, they die, and return to their dust.

Thou sendest forth thy spirit, they are created: and thou renewest the face of the earth.

Part V

Psalm 104, verses 21 through 25

The young lions roar after their prey, and seek their meat from God.

The sun ariseth, they gather themselves together, and lay them down in their dens.

Man goeth forth unto his work and to his labour until the evening.

O LORD, how manifold are thy works! in wisdom hast thou made them all: the earth is full of thy riches.

So is this great and wide sea, wherein are things creeping innumerable, both small and great beasts.

Somewhat Silent Sunday

In the stillness of creeping fog, even shouts are muted.

Footsteps fall in quiet plunks upon the ground.

The middle of each word spoken fills with a cool, rounded breath.

In the fog, the ugliness is forgiven by a cloud's progress.