Link Love

I don’t have much to say these days. Much to do… very very much to do, but not much to say. So I’m going to take a cue from my friend Kelli of Simple Modern Life, who is one of the sweetest gals I’ve ever met, and just stick up some links to things I’m loving (which may also happen to be birthday idea hints for someone who may need some hints.) I’ve even provided you with links, sir.


I do not want to spend $1800 on a bed for my porch. Especially considering the car only cost us $500, not by choice… by necessity – but I’m positive my husband could build this. And I’m positive my porch needs a bed on it.

2. If you share my love of flea markets, you will understand my love for this show.

American Pickers

If you’ve never seen this show, let me just break down the beauty of it for you. American Pickers is about two guys and their antique business. They travel the US, going to small towns and look through people’s barns and storage sheds and junk piles. IT’S MY DREAM JOB. I don’t know anything about antiques, but I sure like old junk. The link above is for Season One of this show, which I could watch over and over and over.

3. This might be a weird thing to love. I’m not really sure. I have another project idea that calls for these, though, so I think it’s a perfectly fine thing to love.

All of these cute knobs are from Anthropologie.

4. Let’s just pause for a moment and consider the perfection of this universe. A universe that holds crazy me in it and allows crazy me to stumble upon the print called, “The Art of Collecting” which are two things very near to my heart. Art and Collecting, that is. And which not only features the very color scheme that I’m craving at this moment in my life but also features such items as glass mason jars, cowboy boots, jewelry, ribbon, vintage suitcases, and buttons which crazy me happens to collect or hopes to collect someday. Let us further sit in wonder over the fact that this universe made this print only $14 and made my craft room wall the perfect place for hanging such prints. Either the person who made this is my stalker or my soul mate. I am not sure which, and for Dave’s sake I hope this person is my stalker.

5. I’m not sure how to follow #4, being that it is a snapshot of the wonder of fate and perfection and Intelligent Design. I suppose if that MUST be followed, this is the perfect way to do so…

Don’t freak out! I am not pregnant! I just LOVE this onesie. I’ve mentioned here on this blog that designing onesies is my life’s true calling, I believe. I also may have mentioned that I really like babies and clothing. And something I haven’t mentioned here is that I sometimes stumble upon cheap and perfect baby goods and accidentally purchase them and keep them in my closet. Something else that I may not have mentioned here is that I’m a desperate, scary person. Please don’t judge. Please come back to my blog someday.


Flea Market Love

Let me kick things off by saying: is everyone else as excited about this new blog look as I am? Scratch that – there’s no way you are. I LOVE IT. It’s so “me.” If you’re an RSS reader (Dave), check this out on the actual internet and see for yourself!

I found a designer through Etsy who was so great to work with, did quick work, and gave me a fantastic product. I definitely recommend her if you’re interested in that kind of thing! Also, I’m not getting a discount because I said this… so you know I really mean it.

Back to the flea market. This weekend at the flea market was a HUGE success. I got all kinds of loot.
Like this quirky table cloth from the late 60’s or 70’s. It matched my house perfectly, the red, mustardy yellow, teal, and tan… it was fate. I didn’t plan on buying a table cloth, but the Lord clearly put this in my path as a gift. I can’t decide quite yet if I want to keep it as is or make fabric napkins out of it. $5 for this cutie.

Is this mask not ridiculous? The guy at the booth didn’t know where it originated, but it is so cool. Also, I didn’t buy this. I do have SOME self control.

I wanted to get a few door knobs for a project that I’m kind of excited about. Turns out some of these are over $100 per set. So that didn’t happen. I bought one painted porcelain knob – hopefully that will do the trick. $3 knob.

Can’t leave the flea market without some old windows, shutters, and a trusty old ladder, right? Maybe that’s just me. $25 for all three.

Best score of the day. BY FAR. Each of these dishes had a price tag on it. From $2 through $10. It’s a 38 piece set which would have been over $100 individually. Because I’m a very loyal customer with that booth, I got ALL OF THE DISHES for just $35! Not only are all of our wedding dishes cracked and chipped, but we are down to about 4 plates, 3 bowls, and 5 saucers; they don’t even match our kitchen any longer. This teal and gray pattern was made for me. Again, it must have been fate.

I got a few other goodies as well! I found a set of about 8 tiny keys, one large skeleton key, and a stack of old photos: one of a woman looking down the back side of a man’s swimming trunks (no idea what is going on in the picture, but it’s a true gem) one of a seriously gorgeous woman with a very interesting smirk, a young boy in a giant feathery headdress, and others.

Flea Market SUCCESS.

Preparing and Such

My very tired and worn out self feels hodgepodgey this week, so this post is also hodgepodgey. Even on my worst days I’m still bound by these people pleasing chains – so, I do apologize for the random post. But there sure is a lot happening around here.

First of all – I am planning a very indepth trip to the flea market this weekend. The biggest flea market trip I’ve ever planned, and I am almost to the point of crying in my sleep with excitement. Is that even a real thing? People don’t actually cry in their sleep with excitement – BUT I MIGHT. I have about 50 ideas of what I want to look for and purchase or use as inspiration. Whomever I recruit to help me this weekend has a big day ahead of them.

Secondly – in a week, I’m heading back home to Missouri to celebrate my Grandparent’s 50th wedding anniversary.

They are the cutest. I mean, come on. Seriously.

Third – I am PUMPED about June. One: it is my birthday month. I kind of go nuts around my birthday every year. This year has no reason to be any different. Two: All this flea marketing is pointing to one very exciting thing… drumroll please… THIS!

I’m going to have a booth set up at the first ever Nashvegas Craft Fair! Which means I’ll be building a booth, stocking up on paintings, journals, a few new goodies, and passing out business cards until my arms fall asleep.

Also in June is something called Pin It Forward, which should be great fun. It’s a blog chain of sorts that features some REALLY talented and inspiring writers and designers… and so you don’t think I’m getting a big head about it all, I just found out about it early enough to sign up. Basically for me this means that some people I really admire in the design industry will see my blog. No big deal for some people. Big deal to me. So to prepare myself for that in the way I prepare the best, I am getting a makeover. Not new clothes for me this time though; I’m getting a new blog look. I bit the bullet and asked a graphic designer to make this thing look legitimate. (Anyone under the age of 20, take note, the word “legit” is ACTUALLY short for the word legitimate… try using the real word sometimes.) So be expecting that soon.
So I’m focusing on these happy fun things and preparations. And guess what… I just decided this. If you stop by my booth at the Nashvegas Craft Fair and tell me you’re a blog reader, I’ll give you a special little thank you gift. WOOT WOOT. I do love to give gifts.


My dad always says, “patience, young grasshopper.” It must be one of his catch phrases because he’s always saying it to me. Either that, or it just happens to be applicable to 1/4 of the conversations I start with him.

My whole life, my dad was a youth minister. Which meant when I was about 3 through the end of the 6th grade, I wanted to hang out with the kids in the youth group. I wanted to carry my caboodle around to retreats, hairspray myself to toxic levels, and go to prom. In 7th grade, I wanted to go to college and get married. In high school I really wanted to go to college and get married.

In college I got married. So then I had to want something else, naturally. So about 2o seconds after we moved into our first rental house, I decided I wanted to have kids. Granted I was newly 19 and everyone thought I was crazy enough to get married that young – having kids would seem a little desperate. And heaven forbid I seem desperate.

Soon we moved to big ol’ Music City where I got to concentrate on what I wanted for Dave. I wanted him to find a great internship, I wanted him to make great connections, I wanted him to become the youngest producer in history to win a Dove, a Grammy, a big house with a room full of swings and pillows, ownership of the music industry, miniature horses… and of course he’d have a great sense of humility through it all. That, surprisingly, didn’t happen right away. We’re 3 years in, which I know isn’t much – especially for the music business, and I still have so many wants through the whole thing.

And then one day last week I was sitting here thinking about that and wanting kids and wanting stability and wanting an ice cream sandwich and THIS little nugget popped into my head, “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.” And then it kept repeating. Over and over. And I didn’t want it to – I wanted to kind of ignore it. Put it back in its “things I heard 20 years ago and can now skip over” box. I sat at my desk and answered phone calls and it just kept repeating. I shall not want, I shall not want, STEPH – YOU shall not want.

So I pulled up a link to Psalm 23 on the computer and started writing it down.
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

God just said, “patience young grasshopper” to me. I didn’t even know he liked Karate Kid.

I’m Giddy

For so very many reasons, I am giddy today.
1. I got a frappuccino this morning.
2. My singing voice just happens to be decent so far today, thanks to my in-car vocal warm up.
3. I am wearing matching shoes for the first time in two months. (Please no pale leg jokes, CHRIS!)

4. My morning peek at Google Analytics showed that my Etsy shop had more than twice its normal traffic.
5. While clicking through some of my favorite blogs this morning, an activity that I can never get enough of, I came across this little post which FEATURED ME! and my Oh Happy Day Journals. Awesome – not just that I was on a blog, which is so very very cool, but that it’s already one of the 10 or so that I look at every day. Little bit of freaking out over here.
Oh happy day, indeed.

My Mama

So I’m sitting here eating Bugles and drinking Sprite for breakfast like that’s a totally normal thing to do, and I realized that I never posted my Mother’s Day blog. I had written something lovely about my mama, because she is a lovely lady and then forgot to show it to the world (cough… 12 readers.) So, I apologize for the delay. But a late Mother’s Day blog is better than no Mother’s Day blog.

My mom is awesome. Really. She’s the type of mom who would pick me up at one in the morning from a friend’s house after everyone at the sleepover had gone to sleep except for me and I was afraid. She’s the type of person who ALWAYS thinks about how other people feel and tries to see things from their perspective. Especially her kids. She drove me back and forth to all sorts of cheerleading events (I’ll wait for you to stop laughing at that mental picture) and school functions and parties. She is the mom that becomes a mother to her children’s friends that need a mother. She will talk your ear off if you need someone to talk to you, and she will listen while you talk her ear off if you need someone to listen to you. She is the person who would take me to see Dave at college every weekend, hang out around town for a few hours, and then drive me the hour and a half back home at midnight. She’s awesome at Math and English and organization and she loves to read. She is so funny, she is so smart, and she is so loving. You may think your mom is cooler, but you’re wrong. My mom deserves much more credit than what she gets. That’s partially my fault.

I LOVE YOU. You’re a genuinely great person. I’ve learned so much from you in the past 23 years. It’s because of you that I have confidence in who I am as a woman, that I make some of the wise choices I make (let’s ignore those unwise choices for this letter’s purposes,) and that I know how to love others through understanding them. I really believe that I will be a good mom someday. I don’t believe that because of how much I want children, or how I act or feel around kids. I believe that because YOU are a good mom, and you taught me everything I know about being a mother. I’m proud of you and I am grateful to you. Let’s get some skittles and go for a drive.
Love you tons,
Little Missy

Pre-Mother’s Day

Before the big mother’s day festivities, I want to talk about my own “before motherhood.”

To get a bit of background on my thoughts of being a mother someday (if you haven’t been following this blog long) check here and here.

Last Mother’s Day was rough. I’m pretty sure I cried through the whole day off and on. Everything about that day was a reminder to me that something was missing from my life and I felt totally alone in that. Everyone was pregnant. Everyone had kids. Everyone was celebrating except for me. I was bitter and sad. I was frantic about all of the unknowns – thinking about getting pregnant but not being able to, wanting to have kids but knowing a wait was in store… it was all just very overwhelming. I was afraid of infertility, of instability, of timing outside of my control, and of so many other things.

Because I’ve written about all of that before, I just want to say to any of you that may be going through some of that this weekend: you AREN’T alone. Everyone is not pregnant. Everyone doesn’t have kids. Lots of people are hurting along side you. These words won’t help. I know that. But I needed to say them. If nothing else, just so I could read back over them and know that I thought that at one point in my own life and that I said it. I’m hopeful that this Sunday will be better for me than last Mother’s Day was, that God would calm my anxious spirit, and that anyone else going through infertility, waiting, miscarriages, sadness, hurt, or bitterness would have an overpowering hope this weekend.