tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25058206110937905952024-03-13T21:48:53.654-07:00sophia & roseLydia Hickokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12146989824512671125noreply@blogger.comBlogger264125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2505820611093790595.post-54083984682156153512021-02-19T11:42:00.003-08:002021-02-19T11:42:26.332-08:00The Mister<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglTL4ijF1g8PSxzAbOUG5l5LL0M5SdaaNqXFa4Ihkb5jpqXCZT_-AfWh93pjIF9kWWGfUW2ZBx2piWobOYhJKUTF0uMrBWgqd3jxzHMohH78GYwEtnsa-abvLPn-6M4omKtGgvcNxGITI/s2048/IMG_6855.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglTL4ijF1g8PSxzAbOUG5l5LL0M5SdaaNqXFa4Ihkb5jpqXCZT_-AfWh93pjIF9kWWGfUW2ZBx2piWobOYhJKUTF0uMrBWgqd3jxzHMohH78GYwEtnsa-abvLPn-6M4omKtGgvcNxGITI/w640-h480/IMG_6855.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p>Lydia Hickokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12146989824512671125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2505820611093790595.post-75211566958855516102021-02-19T11:40:00.002-08:002021-02-20T11:18:56.103-08:00Point of Rocks<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7iR61KiSW3VMgPERYz6l2KVrRDxSsPVfYcbTpOhKjU3_ePB1E1iShId4YubQ2KX8AHevAqQkM-IzDOb7H4NBVCNGRl3EgO9bIeuAPY4DS9lcB7OIf2-AA2nXP2kv0lJOCQPk7dsewO7U/s2048/112FF716-D854-45E8-854E-5029ECEBD739.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7iR61KiSW3VMgPERYz6l2KVrRDxSsPVfYcbTpOhKjU3_ePB1E1iShId4YubQ2KX8AHevAqQkM-IzDOb7H4NBVCNGRl3EgO9bIeuAPY4DS9lcB7OIf2-AA2nXP2kv0lJOCQPk7dsewO7U/w480-h640/112FF716-D854-45E8-854E-5029ECEBD739.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>Lydia Hickokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12146989824512671125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2505820611093790595.post-88893051420398649932021-02-19T11:37:00.001-08:002021-02-19T11:37:04.340-08:00My Heart in the Sink<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiCvwNAbDNhR4giw4AMq_hEWIRrzMWFl0vhC16NXb8vgkoQ6IoxJBWuJyEiVAbfZj49qSMst2coX2tGZ5S0LP9wO32P7XbhRBfFAorxFUzgFF_WkIGXm0RW3XZDhJGn7kaReOXXJ7sGMI/s2048/13526E6B-7D03-4FB6-987E-F164483A81E8_1_201_a.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1632" data-original-width="2048" height="510" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiCvwNAbDNhR4giw4AMq_hEWIRrzMWFl0vhC16NXb8vgkoQ6IoxJBWuJyEiVAbfZj49qSMst2coX2tGZ5S0LP9wO32P7XbhRBfFAorxFUzgFF_WkIGXm0RW3XZDhJGn7kaReOXXJ7sGMI/w640-h510/13526E6B-7D03-4FB6-987E-F164483A81E8_1_201_a.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>Lydia Hickokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12146989824512671125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2505820611093790595.post-37133683345401964682021-02-19T11:30:00.004-08:002021-02-19T11:30:53.504-08:00Le Mer<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAjynTKStlF1CA29YK1DIwVQP02VZ2uksllxhkWhlFhwf0M25uXnpl2nZPfe5pZMNxsZyM2RZJXixn3oeOPrJf_NikggDZKVTpeSk77FUnfOQUgHUpg75eIONnogazjUqZ_fIEZvqnc4s/s2048/59AC258B-F335-4A7D-BF61-C160D6AB8BF0.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1599" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAjynTKStlF1CA29YK1DIwVQP02VZ2uksllxhkWhlFhwf0M25uXnpl2nZPfe5pZMNxsZyM2RZJXixn3oeOPrJf_NikggDZKVTpeSk77FUnfOQUgHUpg75eIONnogazjUqZ_fIEZvqnc4s/w500-h640/59AC258B-F335-4A7D-BF61-C160D6AB8BF0.jpeg" width="500" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>Lydia Hickokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12146989824512671125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2505820611093790595.post-46884731004596583482021-02-19T11:29:00.003-08:002021-02-19T11:29:21.933-08:00Virginia Winter...Piddly<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCvJifjokkGO4z4Qpp90TMltSWgLQqkixaDWYLrH2g5m76hbCDx5xZmgje2tYDC3WOZBVFnEVgTCsbZfHalwNQh_xOhen6JzKA2Ylx5h51rZfsTCeH0rnyY4q38yg5v50bO8Brp1imAoY/s2048/7C9078B5-B4C6-4DE3-A784-891E17FE062F.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1576" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCvJifjokkGO4z4Qpp90TMltSWgLQqkixaDWYLrH2g5m76hbCDx5xZmgje2tYDC3WOZBVFnEVgTCsbZfHalwNQh_xOhen6JzKA2Ylx5h51rZfsTCeH0rnyY4q38yg5v50bO8Brp1imAoY/w492-h640/7C9078B5-B4C6-4DE3-A784-891E17FE062F.jpeg" width="492" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>Lydia Hickokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12146989824512671125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2505820611093790595.post-39541041305098068432021-02-19T11:27:00.004-08:002021-02-19T11:27:35.239-08:00She Turned 12<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJXkSo6dmUExrcfyc-Xsf0E6NA1iunp2Aoz-KYEAYFYCkXNVm-YnQXbSBcLPf0LzE8lCb__GNvC0QGABvLvhQAbbI2igZ60GYe6Bv5jNlGDT-XgnQoK78OgijttZ-3-IxrLdVbZzX6KuE/s2048/E158FA80-514D-4516-ACA6-3CDFEFE4AE71.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1631" data-original-width="2048" height="510" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJXkSo6dmUExrcfyc-Xsf0E6NA1iunp2Aoz-KYEAYFYCkXNVm-YnQXbSBcLPf0LzE8lCb__GNvC0QGABvLvhQAbbI2igZ60GYe6Bv5jNlGDT-XgnQoK78OgijttZ-3-IxrLdVbZzX6KuE/w640-h510/E158FA80-514D-4516-ACA6-3CDFEFE4AE71.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>Lydia Hickokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12146989824512671125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2505820611093790595.post-83253785057883115572021-02-19T11:25:00.004-08:002021-02-19T11:25:28.375-08:00Rust Jacket<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9JCUr2ZEW8CTOmnr_4xvNttsIC97WiR5e135cEeTzrFOnVjEnFj7B8S8sEwpos2eOrl1TgVWjjD2yCCPVThqH_zudijEfy857nZuQz4PH1saKaf731CXSQxe8Kc445y524xQMUYweQlM/s2048/448D9ECB-1719-4761-B9B9-B0E65E98B175.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9JCUr2ZEW8CTOmnr_4xvNttsIC97WiR5e135cEeTzrFOnVjEnFj7B8S8sEwpos2eOrl1TgVWjjD2yCCPVThqH_zudijEfy857nZuQz4PH1saKaf731CXSQxe8Kc445y524xQMUYweQlM/w480-h640/448D9ECB-1719-4761-B9B9-B0E65E98B175.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /> <p></p>Lydia Hickokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12146989824512671125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2505820611093790595.post-23606472158622544972021-02-17T16:56:00.005-08:002021-02-17T16:58:06.983-08:00Pretty Views This Morning (A Random Unpublished Post from Five Years Ago)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKP26FUWsyhhHDBDUvULow7hQnjpJJvNdHkH16hXG6NxrYtJ9D_MQMfRRBFhih3I6DZX_rjiHkDl8H5abI2pfZAL-jAxPzI0wdLys11N-OQZOHri1BpeeFKpDITaX0TDfuBvzdprU8OwI/s1600/today+5.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKP26FUWsyhhHDBDUvULow7hQnjpJJvNdHkH16hXG6NxrYtJ9D_MQMfRRBFhih3I6DZX_rjiHkDl8H5abI2pfZAL-jAxPzI0wdLys11N-OQZOHri1BpeeFKpDITaX0TDfuBvzdprU8OwI/s640/today+5.jpg" width="414" /></a></div>
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Sometimes, when all the little peoples' worlds align, there are a few small moments that will gather before a storm rushes in again. Currently, the toddler is tinkering upstairs in her room, the baby is down for her morning nap, the bigs are working away in the schoolroom with Grandma, and I find myself with a spare moment squashed between to need to attack laundry and dirty dishes. </div>
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Just sitting here sipping my coffee, under no dilution that this is a luxury indeed.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCuz1Q62zn79RTu0aT5Ob2uBtl3ymAvT9mcqat-M1aj9HpniibE3vxdaa4d77NifS-moytGcUX66-sbfaFrm97v8gxI9b-II_9OeiJZwngWGWZyEPnP0V4nTy6vPPzlmC_Q603lSDUiZk/s1600/today+4.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCuz1Q62zn79RTu0aT5Ob2uBtl3ymAvT9mcqat-M1aj9HpniibE3vxdaa4d77NifS-moytGcUX66-sbfaFrm97v8gxI9b-II_9OeiJZwngWGWZyEPnP0V4nTy6vPPzlmC_Q603lSDUiZk/s640/today+4.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="378" /></a></div>
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Since it's still morning, the ground floor has not been under steady attack and keeps the illusion of happy manners and tidiness. These same views will be changed by this evening when the shorties thunder down and rip through here with all their energy and force, whipping my hair about my face and daring me to loose my cool and raise some hella (as my sister would say).</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEEdjgO2eRSjou5x3y2n4lM9e0mXClbSHDvsAZXZvuSDYIXE-V5QOZCD2Gb_NUGLOWTA5lt8nh5AQiOsjDqnD6KABzYB2qbHk2NsFkIz2itmJIep1FsV5j4HofD_8RRbBfZrbdR96X8FA/s1600/today+6.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEEdjgO2eRSjou5x3y2n4lM9e0mXClbSHDvsAZXZvuSDYIXE-V5QOZCD2Gb_NUGLOWTA5lt8nh5AQiOsjDqnD6KABzYB2qbHk2NsFkIz2itmJIep1FsV5j4HofD_8RRbBfZrbdR96X8FA/s640/today+6.jpg" width="472" /></a></div>
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At this moment I can hear papers softly shuffling around the corner. Adelaide sounding out her words. Slowly, making each sound touch the other. Lily offers unsolicited advice while avoiding her own spelling practice. Something sharp is banging around in Mag's room (she is probably gleefully bludgeoning an innocent toy beyond repair). No one is fighting, no one is running, no one is needing a diaper changed, or a nose wiped, or a snack made (for the third time). </div>
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I think I will sit here longer, ignoring the imminent chores and dirty floors, and just marinate in the hush. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPTJ6HeEoFrmaAq1vmXgvx8zg2QphZhzVBD7hSoA8iezqPJimUJI4l3XB3v6ImG0kW5rOrjYUUQ00VU6ZRDdPa9hFBqF-3u8KbgJ12Ko9fghuq3Cj80ni5am8J098-IQp7FYF_EaARb-s/s1600/today.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPTJ6HeEoFrmaAq1vmXgvx8zg2QphZhzVBD7hSoA8iezqPJimUJI4l3XB3v6ImG0kW5rOrjYUUQ00VU6ZRDdPa9hFBqF-3u8KbgJ12Ko9fghuq3Cj80ni5am8J098-IQp7FYF_EaARb-s/s640/today.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="426" /></a></div>
Lydia Hickokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12146989824512671125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2505820611093790595.post-88088164933453351562016-04-21T17:35:00.001-07:002016-04-21T18:44:34.463-07:00Around the House<div style="text-align: center;">
63. That's number of rooms I have painted in my relatively short life, give or take. My first paint job I shared with my mom. It was the upstairs bathroom in the house on 8th Street, circa 1996. The home was close to a hundred years old, and still had the original clawfoot bathtub (totally under appreciated) and with enough hard-to-reach nooks to make me wish I had never started. I remember being so proud of the clean look of the room when it was done. Painting a room made me feel...well...grown-up, really. Ahhh, naivety at its best and brightest. I would slap that girl if I could.</div>
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Fast forward twenty years (<i>gulp!</i>), four states, and 62 rooms. Virginia is now our home, and has been for more than two years. And with the exception of a couple of closets (and that tough to reach spot at the top of the staircase), every. single. room. is finally painted. It's a relief to feel settled in a home, putting our roots down and being invested in this place. </div>
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With the painting projects coming to a close, I thought I would share with you a few of the more recently painted rooms. Some tidbits, really. I've posted some of our rooms on the blog before (have a peak at <a href="http://sophiaandrose.blogspot.com/2015/07/poppys-nursery.html" target="_blank">the nursery</a>, <a href="http://sophiaandrose.blogspot.com/2016/02/the-girls-room-progress.html" target="_blank">the bunk room,</a> the school room and <a href="http://sophiaandrose.blogspot.com/2014/08/the-new-house-formal-living-room-and.html" target="_blank">the living room </a>if you like), but there are many spaces I have never photographed or shared. So, here is a mini tour of some freshly painted places around here. Enjoy!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB10X3LpdGGCjQgSoIspyO64SA5UuZpCVGwBZtMK3tne_TFWJqLG7VU7TNvG5MDAX_g5sunfk_X0av6mpb1NG-HpvWDRfolHnwmKArIxpWFSD0lZ9BXMc_jyv06sjs6P19ifZv_2U_YeA/s1600/DSC_9467.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="442" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB10X3LpdGGCjQgSoIspyO64SA5UuZpCVGwBZtMK3tne_TFWJqLG7VU7TNvG5MDAX_g5sunfk_X0av6mpb1NG-HpvWDRfolHnwmKArIxpWFSD0lZ9BXMc_jyv06sjs6P19ifZv_2U_YeA/s640/DSC_9467.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
The moody master is one of my personal favorites. 'Cause, duh, it's our room!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZyyOZgxnP8EVofTl6sGp_LVaO7ujbFmqdBaKN4vbvhZHYFHgpu0qj6Q9QWu2t102xF7In7nSwEBQB-GeMvstpCAP3CX5PoZnsnaV0R8au9Ec_Yu9r20CmxtGqV36EpVPPVwUmvFLbcvE/s1600/Master+collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="592" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZyyOZgxnP8EVofTl6sGp_LVaO7ujbFmqdBaKN4vbvhZHYFHgpu0qj6Q9QWu2t102xF7In7nSwEBQB-GeMvstpCAP3CX5PoZnsnaV0R8au9Ec_Yu9r20CmxtGqV36EpVPPVwUmvFLbcvE/s640/Master+collage.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I painted our little master bathroom a soft white to contrast with the dark bedroom and it works really well for us. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7ffcPJmnfOa62MlFwuakVpYvdLMYd9N4QCAhsQJfr0_zD8PzvGuXt3v6GX0Op-Snrwsara-12FKimJgJ0RuftFJLhArM9kqEcg6JpHA7HK11Deu_YcYHRLvP6pyfh0FwTQ2tP0lld4EI/s1600/DSC_9474.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7ffcPJmnfOa62MlFwuakVpYvdLMYd9N4QCAhsQJfr0_zD8PzvGuXt3v6GX0Op-Snrwsara-12FKimJgJ0RuftFJLhArM9kqEcg6JpHA7HK11Deu_YcYHRLvP6pyfh0FwTQ2tP0lld4EI/s640/DSC_9474.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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This used to be the shared girls' room, but is now the guest room. Since the girls aren't in here anymore, it will probably change at some point, but not anytime soon. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAr70LXBG4hPu_RU-fKWYOxSwZusuKgHCJziO18CSB4_hYW0QWOw5GWjm_agOBLH7OoRRvc-cYegzLOk8FxIXqELoWQ0AuYI-garlSyg7Ia_Qini8qQiQcdjntFY8oAwMeDMMHtxySflM/s1600/Guest+Room.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="452" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAr70LXBG4hPu_RU-fKWYOxSwZusuKgHCJziO18CSB4_hYW0QWOw5GWjm_agOBLH7OoRRvc-cYegzLOk8FxIXqELoWQ0AuYI-garlSyg7Ia_Qini8qQiQcdjntFY8oAwMeDMMHtxySflM/s640/Guest+Room.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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The kiddos still use this space as a play room when we don't have house guests. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1lVmGEvlEAs9-SVzxosyUHNIro25vzRoOTth3djUvHZCCDfcvQV9c7WJUK0oEHB2q5MapmKhksrqwGU1Ld8DjUaPTrNWVLF8sQtH-pZ3zHk2J6GDv5_QBJPKwJKSM5ZHmzvBCM5hWnkY/s1600/Laundry+Room.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="638" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1lVmGEvlEAs9-SVzxosyUHNIro25vzRoOTth3djUvHZCCDfcvQV9c7WJUK0oEHB2q5MapmKhksrqwGU1Ld8DjUaPTrNWVLF8sQtH-pZ3zHk2J6GDv5_QBJPKwJKSM5ZHmzvBCM5hWnkY/s640/Laundry+Room.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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The laundry room and mud room are the most recent spaces to get painted. </div>
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This is a view of the dark teal walls and the buffet in our kitchen.</div>
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And here's the sunroom. It is mostly windows, but I did paint the tiny part above the windows. So, it still counts as one of the 63. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg50yjDT9tvY2IXfrf-SuAX_qnOtLUrbc64nSdZRDodtkGrgMVqR2wLUns5RXzIMJKr89WcBrVOd1LiSj0VFhyphenhyphenw986vz_8wMtolruxXx25jVDCbfXvsHNCaiR696FbCE0g1jLfC-5w-itk/s1600/DSC06577.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="402" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg50yjDT9tvY2IXfrf-SuAX_qnOtLUrbc64nSdZRDodtkGrgMVqR2wLUns5RXzIMJKr89WcBrVOd1LiSj0VFhyphenhyphenw986vz_8wMtolruxXx25jVDCbfXvsHNCaiR696FbCE0g1jLfC-5w-itk/s640/DSC06577.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Now that the painting is finished, we are turning our focus outdoors. The mister is in full-blown treehouse-making mode, the girls are burying junk in the yard and map-making like the crazy shorty-pirates they are, while I desperately need to find a solid patch of sunlight in which to grow some veggies. Or maybe I'll be a glutton for punishment and just start on those closets. See ya on the flip side, folks!</div>
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Lydia Hickokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12146989824512671125noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2505820611093790595.post-2982512749054653932016-04-02T08:44:00.002-07:002016-04-07T12:06:52.677-07:00A Sea Poem<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj42zdda3kyC6BTHrrjBLsI8DqHvjFAgolCmGjXuSBrh4IN2VU3KRxNV4eMcB7In5bcGjQMrMAjAwStodGMWodsmWA1aNpcV1NEK98akSs89rPOy8SvZMeleYciOiubEhZGbYJ5PIsdFXk/s1600/DSC_8784.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="420" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj42zdda3kyC6BTHrrjBLsI8DqHvjFAgolCmGjXuSBrh4IN2VU3KRxNV4eMcB7In5bcGjQMrMAjAwStodGMWodsmWA1aNpcV1NEK98akSs89rPOy8SvZMeleYciOiubEhZGbYJ5PIsdFXk/s640/DSC_8784.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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The sea swells large in laid out waves,</div>
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It draws the feet too close.</div>
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Each swell and splash procure a laugh</div>
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And claps the crinkled toe. </div>
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Quickly running, quickly leaping</div>
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Away from the pulling tides.</div>
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The youth who knows the simple truth,</div>
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The secret the soft sea hides.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO_i3a9SdsJrgCDbGt80WENO3U7vrYNo1Pi_iTADcj0rZijqgGwbHYD9vZsN70z5D9v0bcP2OZz1OGzPJ8QseI0dhj4vwY3IqJfUNuKOom8RmHh1F94HK_y0Xk0h-_Zklv3C5NEDjupes/s1600/DSC_87492.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="372" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO_i3a9SdsJrgCDbGt80WENO3U7vrYNo1Pi_iTADcj0rZijqgGwbHYD9vZsN70z5D9v0bcP2OZz1OGzPJ8QseI0dhj4vwY3IqJfUNuKOom8RmHh1F94HK_y0Xk0h-_Zklv3C5NEDjupes/s640/DSC_87492.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Can England truly lie so far</div>
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My eyes it cannot reach?</div>
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And this smooth shell across the swell</div>
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Has landed on my beach?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS3gdetvRB6ZfjcnwydIWumRNWJHlJld1p9bJ1UIvqYpTuNUFVSUZT-7PSIGOjKWqw_m7BLKe5HuiYhc199MSr87rpinTydAv9iUY8LjjpNzvPuTjq7X8L3VN1cUHHACKI44dGGbOHKxk/s1600/DSC_8744.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="448" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS3gdetvRB6ZfjcnwydIWumRNWJHlJld1p9bJ1UIvqYpTuNUFVSUZT-7PSIGOjKWqw_m7BLKe5HuiYhc199MSr87rpinTydAv9iUY8LjjpNzvPuTjq7X8L3VN1cUHHACKI44dGGbOHKxk/s640/DSC_8744.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Sand grabs my skin and teases me</div>
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With tricks and flicks my cheek.</div>
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I brush it off and it does scoff.</div>
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Hope for release is bleak.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0CRZqM_ACc0_LenB6O7wODEk12hgxUyUa25UJ2GrrsUkAz5P8Z9HXGnKoLY_YDIdw1eeE08pPV4VOnqZvZ2zOyoCHVnn_ShB6l5-K5Rf3TcKdZ2K4NkNTdyimikh9Kvl5TXK2BP8cLho/s1600/DSC_8737.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="380" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0CRZqM_ACc0_LenB6O7wODEk12hgxUyUa25UJ2GrrsUkAz5P8Z9HXGnKoLY_YDIdw1eeE08pPV4VOnqZvZ2zOyoCHVnn_ShB6l5-K5Rf3TcKdZ2K4NkNTdyimikh9Kvl5TXK2BP8cLho/s640/DSC_8737.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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The sand and sea mix thoroughly.</div>
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Fantasy mingles, too.</div>
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Creation of castles on sandy grass hills</div>
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And moats with waters so blue.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhshH9oT4go63qNHLcb6zTY0XNyCaUiFgeK7xE9BUgc9kT0gPj-Xf6IzY6rcds4k2zLBt4oO6WPtlY3erCjbSCPP9iyS8vNf8Mp5fAV-gRCMDtG2tQJr6l1yO5_AmWNpfRtD-Lf01JhVqo/s1600/DSC_8728+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhshH9oT4go63qNHLcb6zTY0XNyCaUiFgeK7xE9BUgc9kT0gPj-Xf6IzY6rcds4k2zLBt4oO6WPtlY3erCjbSCPP9iyS8vNf8Mp5fAV-gRCMDtG2tQJr6l1yO5_AmWNpfRtD-Lf01JhVqo/s640/DSC_8728+copy.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Hearts contented with hands to hold</div>
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Spur love between you and me.</div>
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We both are here and have no fear</div>
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In this sweet reverie.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGshDu-j7NT-Ggj6HKR1oNDOAh23qizqnyJAl2gN0GIXLAAL9darL2KUF44Zjfoo2vo-pULAhRE0SWQr_uU5z_dckEHOqjwfgQTXtD-kDt18XfiW4WNGwyoIEgv1wCPbpE319ngdMWWZM/s1600/DSC_8742.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGshDu-j7NT-Ggj6HKR1oNDOAh23qizqnyJAl2gN0GIXLAAL9darL2KUF44Zjfoo2vo-pULAhRE0SWQr_uU5z_dckEHOqjwfgQTXtD-kDt18XfiW4WNGwyoIEgv1wCPbpE319ngdMWWZM/s640/DSC_8742.jpg" width="424" /></a></div>
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Aged hands guide first delights</div>
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With knowing trepidity.</div>
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For all things teach and all things grow</div>
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The minds of babes continuously.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCcjYxgrYA1oWDzXfVVWmMUbIAdkvRUeA-06aKEnPo7_XQcx-Ra2mcnhfITfUvo-1Fad6Rj6H3FZWe6S0mYA4PdT0QyAY4gyLHVXGaQj82fUZsaSDxOMcR-8qtO_Wnr4fs_uO0LHJZGps/s1600/DSC_8769.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCcjYxgrYA1oWDzXfVVWmMUbIAdkvRUeA-06aKEnPo7_XQcx-Ra2mcnhfITfUvo-1Fad6Rj6H3FZWe6S0mYA4PdT0QyAY4gyLHVXGaQj82fUZsaSDxOMcR-8qtO_Wnr4fs_uO0LHJZGps/s640/DSC_8769.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Hello. Goodbye. The sea replies</div>
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In time with each heartbeat.</div>
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It holds our gaze, sure to amaze.</div>
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To leave is bittersweet.</div>
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Through the years the sea brings tears</div>
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Some sorrowing, some bright.</div>
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Trust is earned, for the sun does burn</div>
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Our memories stronghold tight.</div>
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Thank you sea, your waves and breeze</div>
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Wrap our souls with love</div>
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From God, the one who made you blow</div>
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Swift down from heaven above.</div>
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<br />Lydia Hickokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12146989824512671125noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2505820611093790595.post-74178286166264842282016-02-18T07:57:00.001-08:002016-02-18T07:57:34.071-08:00The Girls' Room Progress<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyMkUZvBiYL8229c5mMQgfUqDpWfA4Y7FVJ-CJ9XNd4a6Wkd3xwThmc_5db4yr-UmX-ilhxMaCSQlQiI6PxDa_wkhYmQrpFagIZU-NmusIw0gzjdCgWHWxccg3UyihT7BsCYe_8mN3GOE/s1600/DSC_8139+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="440" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyMkUZvBiYL8229c5mMQgfUqDpWfA4Y7FVJ-CJ9XNd4a6Wkd3xwThmc_5db4yr-UmX-ilhxMaCSQlQiI6PxDa_wkhYmQrpFagIZU-NmusIw0gzjdCgWHWxccg3UyihT7BsCYe_8mN3GOE/s640/DSC_8139+copy.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Last March we decided to move our newly-two Magnolia out of her crib and into Adelaide's room, making space in the nursery for our newest baby. At that time, Lily (who had her own room) began sneaking her way into the girls' room at night. I mean, who wouldn't want to have a slumber party every night of the week? So, the mister and I finally gave in to the idea of having all the girls <i>intentionally</i> in one room. Yes, even Poppy in the near future. </div>
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It isn't for lack of space, but rather a desire to foster camaraderie and friendship between the girls, while also lessening the inevitable struggle and combativeness having just two in a room can cause. Have you ever notice when two kids share a room, they inevitably blame to other one for all their woes? But when several kids are squished together, the issues get more evenly distributed, and the kids tend to help each other out, since there is not "one person" to always blame. </div>
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Once the decision to put them all together was made, we decided to go all-in and build some bunks that would take up the least amount of floor space (i.e. scrunching them together). But we also wanted them to be easy on the eyes and fun to be in. </div>
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Over the years (and many different homes) we have tackled our fair share of DIY projects. Most of them with little foreknowledge to the scope of time, skill, or money a project would actually cost. I think we both prefer to be ignorant of these facts on the front end, lest we loose our nerve. Truth is truth. With that in mind, we jumped in head first last November. The mister designed these himself, sketching out a couple of ideas on some scrap paper, and then went at it. He built the main part of the bunks over a long weekend and then moved the girls in for a couple of months for a test run. They loved them! This holiday weekend he finally finished out the trim and caulking, and sent me to the hardware store to pick out the paint.</div>
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I chose this cheerful green, hoping not to go too girly, even though it is for four girls. Keeping in mind these need to grow with them for the next several years. The girls were thrilled with the color. Phew! </div>
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The mister built in a shelf for each girl with an outlet for an LED lamp. This is Magnolia's bunk, and, much to her chagrin, she remains lampless until she is old enough to keep the light off after bedtime.</div>
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This one is Addy's bed. The bar across is removable for leaping off during the day, an absolute necessity. The lamps help at night, since we allow the girls to read and draw after lights out for an hour. This gives them a separate nook for doing their own thing, and has helped when one girl wants to sleep earlier than the others. </div>
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It is rather dark in those caves after all the lights are out. The first night in the painted bunks I was informed it was "pitch black and spooky, Momma!" So I picked up some lantern lights at Walmart and Addy and I wrapped them in yarn, each starting at one end and racing to the middle. They give enough light to ward off the spooks. Win!</div>
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A few months in and no one has taken any tumbles, although I won't hold my breath. Our time is coming, I am sure. Right now, the bunks are still new and delightful to the girls and to their momma.</div>
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Oh, and the uppers provide loads of...</div>
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entertainment.</div>
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As far as the To Do List goes, we plan on adding a long drawer across the front of the bunks, and then finishing the trim around the bottom once the new floors are in. Before we get there, we want to finish ripping up the carpet in the closet and making that space more functional for all the little ladies. We would like the whole upstairs to have the same floors throughout, so it will be some time before these projects are completed and the girls are not walking on sub floor. But as you can see below, they don't seem to mind too much, even the crawlers.</div>
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You're turn's a comin', little Poppy. One more year and that bottom bunk is yours!</div>
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<span id="goog_1874725008"></span><span id="goog_1874725009"></span><br />Lydia Hickokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12146989824512671125noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2505820611093790595.post-90205033376387840512016-02-12T04:50:00.001-08:002016-02-12T07:39:28.378-08:00Addy Turns SEVEN<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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What can I even say about this kid? Adelaide Rose Hickok is seven-years-old, full of belly laughs and curiosity. She loves to make everyone bust a gut, and hates, HATES to be surprised. She <i>will</i> punch you should you foolishly decide to jump out from behind a door in a dark room and yell "Hi-Yah!" I know. I have tested this many times. </div>
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During her sixth year of life, Addy conquered reading, sucking her finger at night, and riding her bike with no handlebars ... no handlebars. As a seven-year-old, she intends to learn how to design cards in Photoshop like a boss, and put together the "Daddy-sized" Lego sets on her own.</div>
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Nostalgia aside, she turned seven in a grand way a couple weeks back, and we couldn't be prouder. After taking her sweet time deciding on a theme for her annual birthday shindig, Addy finally announced that she had narrowed it down between two themes: an Art Party or a Princess Party. I may have nudged her in one direction, or rather <i>away</i> from one direction. </div>
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Woohoo!</div>
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There was plenty of Artsy Partsy food, of course.</div>
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As well as Artsy Partsy Crafts. Our first activity involved the kids painting their own canvas cookies. The edible watercolor paint was just a combination of lemon or vanilla extract (depending on the color) and some food coloring. It made for some really lovely and fragrant paintings.</div>
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After contemplating on the perfect subject to paint on her cookie, she boldly decided to go...</div>
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... abstract! Behold! Art at its tastiest!</div>
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Next, we herded the Artsy Partsy people into the school room for some string art. The mister had cut and sanded some wood squares for each kid. He pre-nailed them with basic shapes in mind, so all the kids had to do was choose their string and start winding. </div>
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Finally, the surprise activity! We filled some water balloons with paint and attached them to a canvas. It was hung out back and we let the kids try to pop the balloons with a BB gun! So much fun!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEASBBAdj62SvG9MUzaou17SrEadZNBt86GG5_ngcEaS9eBa0PHVi7eu-sajmWlY9omI_d6DTIsVUXJAO-Uu_8eM40mjS9vYD_7luK21YuW6ZJIXIrEdiJb08wSWzKwmoYN9EumfmEw3E/s1600/DSC_7993.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEASBBAdj62SvG9MUzaou17SrEadZNBt86GG5_ngcEaS9eBa0PHVi7eu-sajmWlY9omI_d6DTIsVUXJAO-Uu_8eM40mjS9vYD_7luK21YuW6ZJIXIrEdiJb08wSWzKwmoYN9EumfmEw3E/s640/DSC_7993.jpg" width="452" /></a></div>
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Cake! The perfect end to an Artsy Partsy fit for our girl. </div>
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Happy Birthday Addy Rose. Much love to you, little lady. </div>
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May you go forth this year and grow in height, strength, love, kindness and good cheer. </div>
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=2505820611093790595" style="background-color: transparent; background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=2505820611093790595" style="background-color: transparent; background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a>Lydia Hickokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12146989824512671125noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2505820611093790595.post-7189646055219483762015-12-02T13:36:00.003-08:002015-12-02T14:43:34.488-08:00Happy Advent!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The gray weather was starting to bring down my soul. I have doubled my coffee consumption, and still the sunshine refuses to break through. Yesterday, realizing it was December 1st (Wha!?), I jumped in and decided to brighten up the dinning room and my soul with a fun advent project I saw <a href="http://www.abeautifulmess.com/2015/11/advent-village-diy.html" target="_blank">here</a>. </div>
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<i>"Momma, remember that time you wrapped all those tiny gifts and we got to open one every night until Christmas?"</i></div>
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<i>"Nope."</i></div>
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Adelaide, the crafting queen, wielded her ever-lovin' X-acto knife and glue gun like her title suggests: with a great deal of overconfidence and unmatched prowess. </div>
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<i>"Really, you don't remember? We read verses from the Bible, and you wrapped up funny things like </i><i>tissues and nail clippers."</i></div>
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<i>"I don't recall. Maybe that was another momma you're thinking of."</i></div>
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With all her skin cells still intact, the kid glued till the glue rods where no more.</div>
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<i>"I think you remember and you are just pretending, right?"</i></div>
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<i>"Bean, does that even sound like me? I'll tell you what it does sound like: a whole lotta work."</i></div>
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Within minutes of the advent village being completed, it was turned into a Lego village with a bakery, pet shop, and salon ta boot!</div>
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<i>"Momma! Please, please, Pleeeeeeeeease, can we do that again. We didn't do it last year cause you were pregnant, and the year before that because we were moving. Remember?!"</i></div>
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<i>"Lily, I don't remember yesterday, so...that's a big N-O."</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwyOaIiT4MVIMsvPRTVlRUoKueHgMpqcAUZcysewT4ZLm5XMRyrs-RwnRfNnLqgWms6RvxuuCiT-tbCgRxd7uYPCLOu3JJZkYkWupvjHys3-gpZRSgqSFMtUF3yE0dWRMZ_n_AoBMzsPc/s1600/advent+verses.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="494" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwyOaIiT4MVIMsvPRTVlRUoKueHgMpqcAUZcysewT4ZLm5XMRyrs-RwnRfNnLqgWms6RvxuuCiT-tbCgRxd7uYPCLOu3JJZkYkWupvjHys3-gpZRSgqSFMtUF3yE0dWRMZ_n_AoBMzsPc/s640/advent+verses.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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A quick google search, and the print button gave us a Scripture schedule to follow. I plopped it in a frame and smiled at my own cunning. Nailed it! </div>
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Literally, I put a nail in the wall and never looked back.</div>
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<i>"Addy! You remember it, right? There was a big jar, and tiny little packages."</i></div>
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<i>"I don't remember that, Lily, but I think it sounds really nice."</i></div>
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<i>Eye roll.</i></div>
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Today, after reading our verses from Isaiah, I let Addy pick out the first house. I had already wrapped little sweets to put under each house. The girls divided up the goods, savoring every bit. </div>
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<i>"Momma, it's ok if you don't do the advent calendar this year. I just like to think about it sometimes. It's a really nice memory to think about."</i></div>
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<i>"Your guilt-skilz are improving every day."</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLY6EGpyVW9eDlPqUfnnX5JDufHRgMDtkCzsjvpjRHhn_-rXDhYfSYBOQ6GqM_T6rCMyeqcASX7jU_1G5qrq0xj0-SRmS8xoxtYxE5j_mOTTAkeZIBbbMKwkSrYsTqRHTVsLrzZgzN1H8/s1600/DSC07760.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="368" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLY6EGpyVW9eDlPqUfnnX5JDufHRgMDtkCzsjvpjRHhn_-rXDhYfSYBOQ6GqM_T6rCMyeqcASX7jU_1G5qrq0xj0-SRmS8xoxtYxE5j_mOTTAkeZIBbbMKwkSrYsTqRHTVsLrzZgzN1H8/s640/DSC07760.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I added the copper wire string lights for a little more festivity. Viola! An Advent Village Calendar Thing. </div>
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I guess making memories for the kids is worth it. I particularly look forward to the memory of our two year old secretly decimating a large portion of our little Christmas village. Seriously, there is no way this is gonna last till December 25th. Oh the tears! Oh the laughter! I think <i>that</i> will be a pretty awesome memory. Wish us luck!</div>
Lydia Hickokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12146989824512671125noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2505820611093790595.post-59802984961487695462015-11-23T03:41:00.002-08:002015-11-23T03:48:58.632-08:00Pretty Much, Lily<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Life, the Universe and Everything has been pushing us along this fall. Anyone else with me on this? One mister, four minies, one gramma-momma, and me all colliding continuously. Pretty much a fast ride to crazy town. Or rather, a splendid trip through puddle jumps, ripped jeans, plastered walls, molasses cookies, gluey fingers, coffee with our coffee, book reports, paintings of fruit people, tipped-toed nap times, no mascara days, and snugs. </div>
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How's your fall been? Pretty much the same, I bet. Marvelous, isn't it?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKJrU0YZW5vlknx_mlm-Uswt7yS6tGsm6DPq3fHKo790XA2Zio1OrzO1maNBIwEMOYZvYa2NT-ddj6RwrrzysWw0gKmUisZCAsONeAlO0aZGQhGdllG94rSK7gPDjWAL_NqJZMraIzFNs/s1600/LIly+fall+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="392" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKJrU0YZW5vlknx_mlm-Uswt7yS6tGsm6DPq3fHKo790XA2Zio1OrzO1maNBIwEMOYZvYa2NT-ddj6RwrrzysWw0gKmUisZCAsONeAlO0aZGQhGdllG94rSK7gPDjWAL_NqJZMraIzFNs/s640/LIly+fall+3.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Lately, I have been particularly struck with one of our tribe. Lily, my book lover, has been evolving leaps and bounds and the mister and I can barely keep up with the transformation.</div>
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She is my biggest mini and is determined to keep growing, something we have greatly discouraged. You can't tell this generation anything. Not a single lovin' thing. Regardless, we tend to like her immensely and without restraint. She's a barefoot trottin', potpie lovin', story spoutin' fireball with enough feelings to fuel a small planet. So...she's eight, pretty much.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitTRf9B8cXoOyIoY4qcnbH1gzwF_gRT9kGkCWA0_yGCDbl3nvByiuLL1H78p2piq-s4bZRPqv-QovZuF6BIWBIfPT2ufhJE8xjRqLQlNCqHnemCkg16naMV0S1bCUTEhOdYrycuRdiQfc/s1600/LIly+6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitTRf9B8cXoOyIoY4qcnbH1gzwF_gRT9kGkCWA0_yGCDbl3nvByiuLL1H78p2piq-s4bZRPqv-QovZuF6BIWBIfPT2ufhJE8xjRqLQlNCqHnemCkg16naMV0S1bCUTEhOdYrycuRdiQfc/s640/LIly+6.jpg" width="382" /></a></div>
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Her interests range from ninjas to baking killer muffins. </div>
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She can find Waldo, write epic jokes in perfect cursive, and draw a full map of Africa freehand. And I can take credit for precisely none of those things. Figures. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYDliztCxXO7CsWOOJZrmG62Vzj1k9-YLmHrXJVjZ4IpLqkeWv5ih-HWzK5etLMUukPLykJ-4kggpAq5W5OYa4WhbiVVOrxkH05ID4PKChit7cu8l61cLWcKHxZ9u1-BCA4OWr9OM9PgU/s1600/lily+fall+2+bw.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYDliztCxXO7CsWOOJZrmG62Vzj1k9-YLmHrXJVjZ4IpLqkeWv5ih-HWzK5etLMUukPLykJ-4kggpAq5W5OYa4WhbiVVOrxkH05ID4PKChit7cu8l61cLWcKHxZ9u1-BCA4OWr9OM9PgU/s640/lily+fall+2+bw.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
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<i>Momma, can you teach me how to bake something new today?</i></div>
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<i>Momma, did you know there is such a thing as a barkless dog?!</i></div>
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<i>Momma, can I take horseback riding lessons?</i></div>
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<i>Momma, did you check on me while I was sleeping?</i></div>
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<i>Momma, was Wild Bill Hickok part of the Pony Express?</i></div>
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<i>Momma, can you be on my bed tonight?</i></div>
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Pretty proud of this one. </div>
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Proud, thankful, humbled, shocked. </div>
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Also, holding on for dear life. </div>
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<br />Lydia Hickokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12146989824512671125noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2505820611093790595.post-75320333067644238652015-10-05T12:45:00.000-07:002015-10-05T13:42:15.265-07:00FORTY<div style="text-align: center;">
The following post was written by a blogjacker and is not necessarily the views, wordings or picture selections of your regularly scheduled blogger.<br />
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First off, why isn't it fourty? I mean seriously. It's like eleven. What is that? Why not tenty one, tenty two, tenty three, etc?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZaOsH5fySrAEYd5tsSAZ7H2KPGhhXPxN_zwQ6GFOfKaqlbq7AEcss6Gd1K7WyTQuGjASWkDmAF4LcSwx1wNFCYaDGkbQXCpXAvd3uf39ED3ThR82RvIGlHR0ICMCD0PcbY6GVSgaK5GI/s1600/DSC06906.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZaOsH5fySrAEYd5tsSAZ7H2KPGhhXPxN_zwQ6GFOfKaqlbq7AEcss6Gd1K7WyTQuGjASWkDmAF4LcSwx1wNFCYaDGkbQXCpXAvd3uf39ED3ThR82RvIGlHR0ICMCD0PcbY6GVSgaK5GI/s640/DSC06906.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
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So it was my birthday. Yep. That person right there is forty.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS46HfVLdbIPw48WXBhB8EiJ7g0T2fdV9lBcGvcpVRvsG8IOPDL-mI16MwFRYWlbST8qcyxnF-HUeZ4R3EkduZz9QOqkbGkh-rTR0dCZs1L0yWRbnirqje3_6hTP7fNA8ua6VBFsI84uc/s1600/DSC06909.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS46HfVLdbIPw48WXBhB8EiJ7g0T2fdV9lBcGvcpVRvsG8IOPDL-mI16MwFRYWlbST8qcyxnF-HUeZ4R3EkduZz9QOqkbGkh-rTR0dCZs1L0yWRbnirqje3_6hTP7fNA8ua6VBFsI84uc/s640/DSC06909.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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And this person right here was there.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUiRjwx0xgAesSUWuD6MNlnk0zah4TBydIDQFEiVwElhPjMz49WUGShUJXTDme6uafAEG7JgDQNJF0ewt8BbsdkwGsLSsNgOOiNWn_nxm-OdbRU1QDPEzl-YuiBBgtDaV48o-KDw6Phhs/s1600/DSC06915.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUiRjwx0xgAesSUWuD6MNlnk0zah4TBydIDQFEiVwElhPjMz49WUGShUJXTDme6uafAEG7JgDQNJF0ewt8BbsdkwGsLSsNgOOiNWn_nxm-OdbRU1QDPEzl-YuiBBgtDaV48o-KDw6Phhs/s640/DSC06915.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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And we were here.</div>
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I was kidnapped and taken to a place for which my eldest daughter would only give me the smallest hint. "It isn't real," she said. (I guessed it -- only because it's kind of a trademark of our family to look weirdly at things so as to make jokes out of them -- and because I trained her) </div>
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The Natural Bridge in Westernish Virginia of course isn't a real bridge because it wasn't man made. But it is very much a bridge. Spoiler alert: It really is a bridge.</div>
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<img border="0" height="342" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinOz8HFhCqztav1m_JoTRTb2QU4B2ppc7kFoBh_2Mdl_loa4Dn_mogPfQRoaA4CLciqphn-VSMgQSMDzN8wR9ZieokCB_bmcIgQniKr2YLm8bDljafrUzpB6tdxx4EMKOc1cTCW6WAKoQ/s640/DSC06918.jpg" width="640" /><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSiQTvRAdTXk9IcG4sHiKCEwynyNB9svz1uzkvo3CAwxLqJtsMGPIHuhJo-POTnNzIbOQHGipplHNtpZDw5ZaVwQAVVuo63yugeXkGgLD-jbZjV9OSEdmBmhV61bpqo3ZF4SPr7ZKd_Cw/s1600/DSC06950.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSiQTvRAdTXk9IcG4sHiKCEwynyNB9svz1uzkvo3CAwxLqJtsMGPIHuhJo-POTnNzIbOQHGipplHNtpZDw5ZaVwQAVVuo63yugeXkGgLD-jbZjV9OSEdmBmhV61bpqo3ZF4SPr7ZKd_Cw/s640/DSC06950.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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It rained the whole time we were out.</div>
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And the hotel room was tiny.</div>
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And Poppy was fussy for lots of the night.</div>
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And we had the best time ever.</div>
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Lyd even let me make a video of her playing the uke.</div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8bjShpT8zGY">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8bjShpT8zGY</a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRnLkAtQSGOcLPm41NRzOotogLtlnIrsDl7Tw-8chh0OoSsg8EpvsOVsWeLW87DDEMziU4tCaUu3hsarDk38W9dgCeDQOffQcRp3uYyhFU71SmldcyIc521f8annPmGBc8mdVGb-O2BAI/s1600/DSC07204.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRnLkAtQSGOcLPm41NRzOotogLtlnIrsDl7Tw-8chh0OoSsg8EpvsOVsWeLW87DDEMziU4tCaUu3hsarDk38W9dgCeDQOffQcRp3uYyhFU71SmldcyIc521f8annPmGBc8mdVGb-O2BAI/s400/DSC07204.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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And here's a picture of Magz sniffing milk.</div>
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And now back to your regularly scheduled blogger. (Who is awesome at birthdays)</div>
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Lydia Hickokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12146989824512671125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2505820611093790595.post-4440006155557220622015-08-24T12:40:00.000-07:002015-08-24T12:40:12.362-07:00Stop Me If You've Heard This One Before<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1F5GJW2BadbLveLnW2np1KflH2CcGbg0AgejrfdFHJtyxBcCG9MMVKWO2dkpzTJ5T7mzSSr4IkrrckFvOb79JzgGY1eSimprFEwvRlDK_knu22zV4DTvBsK1y91Q66qLM6caKX_LBez8/s1600/aug+20152.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="394" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1F5GJW2BadbLveLnW2np1KflH2CcGbg0AgejrfdFHJtyxBcCG9MMVKWO2dkpzTJ5T7mzSSr4IkrrckFvOb79JzgGY1eSimprFEwvRlDK_knu22zV4DTvBsK1y91Q66qLM6caKX_LBez8/s640/aug+20152.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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"Do you know why fire engines are red?"</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjj3331az2WZZonnOVBQMi-6cAFRSeX6mtVJ-wfvV9GZYhjJOLmzHi9fwImgbFAXfZ8MTx6JiXY98vfDTDaZdCWD57-opXZR0IMdXIvxaLwRTYWGPdnMu-RpG1DhgXvp8jb1CVWhnA9QM/s1600/aug+2015+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="374" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjj3331az2WZZonnOVBQMi-6cAFRSeX6mtVJ-wfvV9GZYhjJOLmzHi9fwImgbFAXfZ8MTx6JiXY98vfDTDaZdCWD57-opXZR0IMdXIvxaLwRTYWGPdnMu-RpG1DhgXvp8jb1CVWhnA9QM/s640/aug+2015+3.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Uhhh...no. Why are fire engines always red?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFJhRm02OV3kkdG0CHmr7MygR-9ft4ko-IgNPg8iG2Hnn5Xx2E2KEs8JVoNtgHHeO-1ymJyq7aMe9daF8q_2L0Z5OGFjz0mK0fhmRmxo5MoB9u2xz3P-fUDzHByedTxyPD2Ys31BE9xBc/s1600/DSC06453.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFJhRm02OV3kkdG0CHmr7MygR-9ft4ko-IgNPg8iG2Hnn5Xx2E2KEs8JVoNtgHHeO-1ymJyq7aMe9daF8q_2L0Z5OGFjz0mK0fhmRmxo5MoB9u2xz3P-fUDzHByedTxyPD2Ys31BE9xBc/s640/DSC06453.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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"Two plus two is four. Four times three is twelve. There are twelve inches in a ruler. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkuiBvvkbQ_BacNsCWtp-Rt2b4WTetFQSECwta3XwJLPktMxC9Zk75uoK_ssvqGaIX5thq__CyvQCwCtIRHnvqgRDVK0TBwz23s1pusR4x2yPWcWa1n-r3O2GJCwDqPGDr8yW0VL5Or0o/s1600/DSC06597.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="408" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkuiBvvkbQ_BacNsCWtp-Rt2b4WTetFQSECwta3XwJLPktMxC9Zk75uoK_ssvqGaIX5thq__CyvQCwCtIRHnvqgRDVK0TBwz23s1pusR4x2yPWcWa1n-r3O2GJCwDqPGDr8yW0VL5Or0o/s640/DSC06597.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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A famous ruler was Queen Mary. The Queen Mary was a ship. Ships sail on the sea. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB63Y0DqC2_xYa5BqHNMAzLDKdqLLkXMTx8Dm2v1a7sv32Pu8m8MvP6sumfm3YrVxcV6QDZhb3cKn6rnd2RyTDUg5kz4sDT7MKIjT5xzB44otSTk1u-op6Klv77A20iLLMYkCDZ6QiDn4/s1600/DSC06644+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="342" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB63Y0DqC2_xYa5BqHNMAzLDKdqLLkXMTx8Dm2v1a7sv32Pu8m8MvP6sumfm3YrVxcV6QDZhb3cKn6rnd2RyTDUg5kz4sDT7MKIjT5xzB44otSTk1u-op6Klv77A20iLLMYkCDZ6QiDn4/s640/DSC06644+copy.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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The sea is full of fish. Fish have fins. The Finns fought the Russians. The Russians are red.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGgC3_FTBLPdkA8mFjVHiAoSh0qZs9nfFYJu5p1gYVXesjaZYRI7knjaiUzm5lKduu6lZpIaWEML4dJfjq7aCA49O-UnuvCcLRRmhPOMUBzJEawY1erLrXXXxUPoxifl0I0Yto1mLcoNQ/s1600/Aug+2015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGgC3_FTBLPdkA8mFjVHiAoSh0qZs9nfFYJu5p1gYVXesjaZYRI7knjaiUzm5lKduu6lZpIaWEML4dJfjq7aCA49O-UnuvCcLRRmhPOMUBzJEawY1erLrXXXxUPoxifl0I0Yto1mLcoNQ/s640/Aug+2015.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Fire engines are always red because they're always RUSHIN!"</div>
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Just a little joke I've heard only about a hundred times this week. </div>
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You're welcome.</div>
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<br />Lydia Hickokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12146989824512671125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2505820611093790595.post-71060539041798807832015-07-09T05:00:00.002-07:002015-07-09T07:32:14.432-07:00Poppy's Nursery!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN8xeT9kqL0BLVZN4SaCVnC3bV22cBZ3hLzIjgZ5lPRj3ck2NY8N94k6FQkG2DXtY085ITlp6KuybfOQYRpJmQvkV4scqU85htceJgyexc1QTV_HB69002U_rboLzIfcaBlty6_TkQ7ec/s1600/DSC_3590.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="414" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN8xeT9kqL0BLVZN4SaCVnC3bV22cBZ3hLzIjgZ5lPRj3ck2NY8N94k6FQkG2DXtY085ITlp6KuybfOQYRpJmQvkV4scqU85htceJgyexc1QTV_HB69002U_rboLzIfcaBlty6_TkQ7ec/s640/DSC_3590.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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If you know my husband well at all, you know the man has mad skilz when it comes to drawing. He is a beast at Pictionary. And I absolutely refuse to play against him in Crainium. Eyes closed or not, he kills it in anything that has to do with drawing or sculpting. It's disgusting really. Did I mention his sermon notes look like they come straight out of the Sunday comics section? </div>
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Warning: Mini-Digression Ahead.</div>
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<em>The mister and I first met while working together in the publications office at our college. He used to draw funny sketches during boring meetings and pass them to me. I didn't stand a chance, really. He made me laugh from the beginning, and he hasn't lost that charm one bit over the last 12 years.</em> </div>
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So, when I finally got around to putting up Poppy's nursery, I found a really <a href="https://spoonfulofhomedesign.files.wordpress.com/2014/09/emily-henderson-home-08.jpeg" target="_blank">fun wallpaper</a> that I loved, but didn't want to buy. I showed it to him for inspiration and asked him to draw something similar with just a black paint marker to keep the room simple, light and bright. The mister did not disappoint. In under twenty minutes, with no prep or sketching beforehand, he finished the mural on Poppy's wall. And it is perfect. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAUe7EYSVJBGZWAWf30qb61DuBukRS1AgTy5HZ9m2rH6rlZzpZgmRKnLVWmy4MxNXrOfsQ9OL5eFiaxCQ7Ht50KJPUqcDrTDBeSIQXwaAg_wLCORoEvIX79TSklRGoYpULG485cbK54vA/s1600/DSC_3623.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="436" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAUe7EYSVJBGZWAWf30qb61DuBukRS1AgTy5HZ9m2rH6rlZzpZgmRKnLVWmy4MxNXrOfsQ9OL5eFiaxCQ7Ht50KJPUqcDrTDBeSIQXwaAg_wLCORoEvIX79TSklRGoYpULG485cbK54vA/s640/DSC_3623.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Once he got the wall finished, I painted the two doors in the room a similar <a href="http://sophiaandrose.blogspot.com/2013/07/a-funny-thing-happened-other-day.html" target="_blank">coral color</a> I used in our last house in Louisiana. It is such a happy color. Throw in some cheap furniture from Ikea and Craigslist, and the room was done!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghYqCPvC8ubvbJn5J6I7KGj9gZBlLgAvuMXeEY2bmdqlrcEIx5MluNqL_dKK-rZm5W4YxtxjYP8EI7eKRBYCl3Rzp0olpzr8dD6OEhpbW8Hc8Cd_8TIoA0kjn9-MwdaSA9-sLAgWosJ4U/s1600/Untitled-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="464" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghYqCPvC8ubvbJn5J6I7KGj9gZBlLgAvuMXeEY2bmdqlrcEIx5MluNqL_dKK-rZm5W4YxtxjYP8EI7eKRBYCl3Rzp0olpzr8dD6OEhpbW8Hc8Cd_8TIoA0kjn9-MwdaSA9-sLAgWosJ4U/s640/Untitled-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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That mouse! That elephant! That strange little bird!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAdPt_v4afua7SGITz18iFT5rLYGdH7z3QeqGsGMBnil_CURz0iF7NPDJxIihKkXWYM_O0t3rsrr_a0dVAPscuHYi-k7G-uqUnHcE_-0qtt7G8jhCYwjzXcjzkw3dlSRlJZvDD4Sr4P_k/s1600/DSC_3612.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="412" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAdPt_v4afua7SGITz18iFT5rLYGdH7z3QeqGsGMBnil_CURz0iF7NPDJxIihKkXWYM_O0t3rsrr_a0dVAPscuHYi-k7G-uqUnHcE_-0qtt7G8jhCYwjzXcjzkw3dlSRlJZvDD4Sr4P_k/s640/DSC_3612.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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The nursery is the smallest room in the house, and it was actually tricky getting furniture placed in here with two doors and a window occupying three walls. I like it small, though. I don't have to squint to see the fun animals on the opposite wall.</div>
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The map above the dresser was purchased 10 years ago when we first visited WA together. I added the wooden rails on the top and bottom as a way to hang it without purchasing a gigantic frame. </div>
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<em>(Alright, I've just gotta say it: I miss you, Washington. Sniff, sniff.)</em></div>
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And there she is, the star of the show, Miss Poppy Josephine! She seems to be right at home in her little space while sleeping great and being an all-around stellar kiddo. </div>
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She isn't the only one loving this room. All the kids squealed when they saw it finished. Mags, the queen of photo bombing (I'm looking at you, cute tootsie), is ready for someone to make silly pictures all over her walls, too. Now, if only I knew a handsome artist who could possibly do that...</div>
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Lydia Hickokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12146989824512671125noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2505820611093790595.post-25448857600229133842015-06-18T12:42:00.000-07:002015-06-18T12:42:12.775-07:00Mom & Daughter Date<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Mom and I headed down to Petersburg this morning to a new little donut shop that opened last November. It's called Buttermilk Bakery, and it is AMAZING! If I were a nifty food blogger (or an all-around stellar person) I would have snapped some shots of the goods. But, when fresh cinnamon rolls (for the littles) and warm jalapeno cheddar scones (for the mommas) were placed on our table, it's all I could do just to breath between mouthfuls, let alone take a picture. So an empty plate is all you get!</div>
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Petersburg is close to Ft. Lee were the Mister is working these days. It's a strange place, filled with tons of Civil War history, quirky antique shops, schnazzy eateries, and crazy gangs. Yep, I've been told it's all criminy-crime-crime up in here. This is serious, people. In retaliation, little shops and novelty places are popping up near the historic district, trying to take back the little town, dusty oven mitt a-swingin. </div>
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Still, it's a great place for an afternoon stroll in the blistering heat, just as long as you keep to well-lit sidewalks and places that smell like shuga, Shuga.</div>
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I would check this off as a pretty successful mom & daughter date. The grandkids got the benefit of being along for the sweet ride. </div>
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After donuts, we walked a block to Demolition Coffee. Hands down, the best Americano I have ever had. Mom's Chi looked and smelled fabulous as she tried to keep Magnolia's eager lips away (a little coffee snob in the making). Again, we gulped it down. With a four month old and three other kids in tow, I didn't gingerly sip, I swished and swallowed. And then I laughed as we loaded them all back into the minivan. Nap time beckoned us home again. </div>
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Someday, there will be plenty of time to stop and lazily smell the roses, and I'll probably sip coffee while I do it. For now, guzzle-and-go suits me just fine. </div>
<br />Lydia Hickokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12146989824512671125noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2505820611093790595.post-20769659736438263442015-05-12T19:26:00.000-07:002015-05-12T19:28:17.943-07:00The Great Eight NINJA Party<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb7x_LJDrQdmHFpWgUE8HxuoWIUiIXutAOOOgTI4Sv_txcMe_mjKTUNROhdMstLckGa8r6axRDvHH3IkcSQU-R7Bi-1ebh9z_5dIGlR2RerMOtbcpX5EOnW81ruVTxdJtepPSUnzv783w/s1600/DSC_3255+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="420" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb7x_LJDrQdmHFpWgUE8HxuoWIUiIXutAOOOgTI4Sv_txcMe_mjKTUNROhdMstLckGa8r6axRDvHH3IkcSQU-R7Bi-1ebh9z_5dIGlR2RerMOtbcpX5EOnW81ruVTxdJtepPSUnzv783w/s640/DSC_3255+copy.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Hi-ya everybody.</div>
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Lesson One: A true ninja master must demonstrate flexibility and balance, especially when laser wire will sever limbs instantly.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWI1CE6JbX3d_QgjMTABWuzBIcYpGwyQAAJOAvUuW3vaiIQEqVdj6kd2OV81cf-qVyaT3k1rUdXpFVnjb4PHpQ30lCOgkdW5b-VJWojmXWfh8SwcCpVhc3Y6r6zNp-tw0IUdv0tboX2gc/s1600/DSC_3206+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWI1CE6JbX3d_QgjMTABWuzBIcYpGwyQAAJOAvUuW3vaiIQEqVdj6kd2OV81cf-qVyaT3k1rUdXpFVnjb4PHpQ30lCOgkdW5b-VJWojmXWfh8SwcCpVhc3Y6r6zNp-tw0IUdv0tboX2gc/s640/DSC_3206+copy.jpg" width="404" /></a></div>
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Lesson Two: Ninja laser barriers are no match for Binky-Blanket-Blast-Attacks!</div>
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Lesson Three: Sensei Says is a centuries old tradition. One must practice daily to achieve the highest level of skill.</div>
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(Sensei Masters are normally unrecognizable in their civilian attire.)</div>
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Lesson Four: Speed trumps stealth never ... except in Red Light, Green Light. </div>
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Lesson Five: Sometimes ninja apparel isn't all it's wrapped up to be.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYmnvbHBCNMbrV6oYfKkf7j5lGoBalRMkWT4EwV4Udsf4XbE9wbJOix1qJQdoAqPv9iV1DsEvdCbPkLmW4NWWOfzIfSHNRTtENjkBK0R1nrKWZigdyVZNNfNECX-KIC9-xYxzx6MNe0Ho/s1600/DSC_3143.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYmnvbHBCNMbrV6oYfKkf7j5lGoBalRMkWT4EwV4Udsf4XbE9wbJOix1qJQdoAqPv9iV1DsEvdCbPkLmW4NWWOfzIfSHNRTtENjkBK0R1nrKWZigdyVZNNfNECX-KIC9-xYxzx6MNe0Ho/s640/DSC_3143.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Lesson Six: The deadliest of all combo attacks is the infamous Toe-Heel Kick (Heel-ium, that is). Also, really bad jokes are equally deadly. </div>
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Lesson Seven: Speedy chopstick skills never hurt a ninja, either. </div>
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Lesson Eight: Appearances can be deceiving. Not all sushi are created equal.</div>
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Lesson Nine: Never tremble at the sight of many armed enemies ...</div>
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... rather, laugh in the face of danger. It is much more fun that way.</div>
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(gratuitous cute kids photo)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7dIRKGmkPG5I4cVvWVmuLukaCdZWdSIjUXiVgVRTfQV4KLx7DusZzvNdUIgEpTgcyxvMoZP3PgsXhm4oO-5gkODphHo5qwkAWZvPtCqEeyicdZvQhIBnb3XkGTdHP_whyphenhyphenYhC8173oQ80/s1600/DSC_3332.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="392" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7dIRKGmkPG5I4cVvWVmuLukaCdZWdSIjUXiVgVRTfQV4KLx7DusZzvNdUIgEpTgcyxvMoZP3PgsXhm4oO-5gkODphHo5qwkAWZvPtCqEeyicdZvQhIBnb3XkGTdHP_whyphenhyphenYhC8173oQ80/s640/DSC_3332.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Lesson 10: Sometimes a good scream is enough to frighten even the most adept warrior.</div>
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Final lesson: It is best never to take oneself too seriously. </div>
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Hi-Yah Birthday, my little grasshopper. </div>
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<br />Lydia Hickokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12146989824512671125noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2505820611093790595.post-67214978179130867842015-03-12T08:38:00.001-07:002015-03-12T08:40:40.975-07:00Poppy Josephine<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Our new little Poppy is a month old. So fast. </div>
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Being a momma of four has proven to be less terrifying than I first thought. </div>
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There is much laughter. </div>
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And sometimes they cry.</div>
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All at the same time.</div>
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Me included. </div>
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But tears dry quickly and never stain, and life keeps chugging along. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsvhGKlLfAFVXKU2RgdG2GVyhU7Eu0UACffNZTx-H5el2NrvmIBOUDTEOgAikLAARZ98GiOgHrX6hJkKkjkO1ILQ3Ez-QHKGSVcnz-mZrOReIb1Z1FDoFEqHqszblYlGfZ8hnzg6lXvzc/s1600/DSC05542+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsvhGKlLfAFVXKU2RgdG2GVyhU7Eu0UACffNZTx-H5el2NrvmIBOUDTEOgAikLAARZ98GiOgHrX6hJkKkjkO1ILQ3Ez-QHKGSVcnz-mZrOReIb1Z1FDoFEqHqszblYlGfZ8hnzg6lXvzc/s1600/DSC05542+copy.jpg" height="640" width="360" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1g__S1O_AR7OWsOv41QYBp3V-LEwIpRP8BD4qkhHrt4NZUP2jUHrFXAsH8JPgP9rPgcN_K1OhxerMhDk52eS_VzsR2UpyFnSTcGGn8dv6mxVUZ5-Sz-uQ5spgOtfOfssYohQUYi-tIKg/s1600/DSC05705.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1g__S1O_AR7OWsOv41QYBp3V-LEwIpRP8BD4qkhHrt4NZUP2jUHrFXAsH8JPgP9rPgcN_K1OhxerMhDk52eS_VzsR2UpyFnSTcGGn8dv6mxVUZ5-Sz-uQ5spgOtfOfssYohQUYi-tIKg/s1600/DSC05705.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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Trying to soak it all in. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHtcIU-92i8t6SARiHMaoX3G6UDPULUSHQ-burlWd8u22U3UftsqYuBbeGj0bO0GOrQ-sbrbxQSTkV6wyD8PwX5tVtpfU6CpWMJYS4yPmqYxkPnGbbLw6kh9j3A37jQna3GTi8r33StnA/s1600/DSC05736+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHtcIU-92i8t6SARiHMaoX3G6UDPULUSHQ-burlWd8u22U3UftsqYuBbeGj0bO0GOrQ-sbrbxQSTkV6wyD8PwX5tVtpfU6CpWMJYS4yPmqYxkPnGbbLw6kh9j3A37jQna3GTi8r33StnA/s1600/DSC05736+copy.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
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Pretty soon, this...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3W-W1hvuTspVUvyc3tY3kHkmHoXEWZlQ2HszVFKUIDStvcFmSfGlvU-TefZT0tL2GUiqM4XxeQXHjZTkmlhZLpVRFZUyZTuYUTaaY9drIRVLhXaYx24vRK4HU6YAc32h7TrNNEJnyq_E/s1600/DSC05786.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3W-W1hvuTspVUvyc3tY3kHkmHoXEWZlQ2HszVFKUIDStvcFmSfGlvU-TefZT0tL2GUiqM4XxeQXHjZTkmlhZLpVRFZUyZTuYUTaaY9drIRVLhXaYx24vRK4HU6YAc32h7TrNNEJnyq_E/s1600/DSC05786.jpg" height="640" width="456" /></a></div>
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...turns into this. </div>
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Which will, of course, turn into...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzbvng8Ofh5NuD3ekfhr95N9ijkbOvVFlEwq3rh7LGKEF3TAkAAVV7drbWXQdohs1Zf8b9gQzx5casSRMqzfA2qBLA6TwC8Rq4QY7SPLohSgfw5OvZPVDJAzJ_bfMjwQnMORsu5cjEjpw/s1600/maymont.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzbvng8Ofh5NuD3ekfhr95N9ijkbOvVFlEwq3rh7LGKEF3TAkAAVV7drbWXQdohs1Zf8b9gQzx5casSRMqzfA2qBLA6TwC8Rq4QY7SPLohSgfw5OvZPVDJAzJ_bfMjwQnMORsu5cjEjpw/s1600/maymont.jpg" height="640" width="470" /></a></div>
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...this. Holding on for dear life.</div>
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<br />Lydia Hickokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12146989824512671125noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2505820611093790595.post-39762223740106661352015-02-05T07:35:00.000-08:002015-02-05T07:46:06.216-08:00Adelaide's 6th Birthday: A Doll's Tea Party<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1KFxkc1ka8AjdIdacLu6YMdgqPIfLOAF8ptbZP8HShJTXettp2i13ObOsAsDqKvv8yNZ7ZM62MzhO4pEZgozGKd1teLGY_6LQd82PSNTq7nuXb-TY2w5URtWg90nwBtbcanJoKc3RTEE/s1600/IMG_1676.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1KFxkc1ka8AjdIdacLu6YMdgqPIfLOAF8ptbZP8HShJTXettp2i13ObOsAsDqKvv8yNZ7ZM62MzhO4pEZgozGKd1teLGY_6LQd82PSNTq7nuXb-TY2w5URtWg90nwBtbcanJoKc3RTEE/s1600/IMG_1676.jpg" height="640" width="422" /></a></div>
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Happy Birthday to our sweet Addy Rose! She turned six last week in a grand way. We threw her an elegant tea party to celebrate. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkr8P_fkCDRk68Hd8X954tzd6_U2SOh9cVbHQyy9iqMouQvbGHaJ-xpSJ9LlWoS1izKz_5erfScNFGGX1e0M6UXdGnU0v5cGwbM249jIqCDiHMDURhK7IhOv-xhfZAEB0PdvRW8wmzP0M/s1600/IMG_1613.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkr8P_fkCDRk68Hd8X954tzd6_U2SOh9cVbHQyy9iqMouQvbGHaJ-xpSJ9LlWoS1izKz_5erfScNFGGX1e0M6UXdGnU0v5cGwbM249jIqCDiHMDURhK7IhOv-xhfZAEB0PdvRW8wmzP0M/s1600/IMG_1613.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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Earlier in the week, Addy and Lily helped make some fun tea party headbands for all the little party-goers to wear. I used <a href="http://atsecondstreet.blogspot.com/2012/05/tea-attire.html" target="_blank">this tutorial</a> and scrounged up most of the supplies from our own craft drawers. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5T5yIQWkANjGdlGwud9TUiurphBt5W4wBAFg8RwjzqWBEJvHexXXFhAPrQI2uGXFkJTQ4vWd0zEBHeCcy-Lv-lTJ36cvzep3dS3w70QZ2y8AkTVDynICwOpvvcZZK_YigcIJ4gxDS7rU/s1600/IMG_1615.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5T5yIQWkANjGdlGwud9TUiurphBt5W4wBAFg8RwjzqWBEJvHexXXFhAPrQI2uGXFkJTQ4vWd0zEBHeCcy-Lv-lTJ36cvzep3dS3w70QZ2y8AkTVDynICwOpvvcZZK_YigcIJ4gxDS7rU/s1600/IMG_1615.jpg" height="640" width="416" /></a></div>
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Lily wanted her headpiece to be less girly and more "nature-y," so she left off the pom-poms and added more feathers and leaves. I barely convinced her to let me put a tiny bit of tulle on it. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCwv8svoEFw1RIhy8ITzICrn6JPxcwezieQeekMkhZxFrewp6LoY2OrqlDdZCBUK0bhmDl0mrQ8UiymKfzqF8Db_pQ8JMRBpDT8zaEM8QYY03VXtJogcLrFQao5jRSdSKM7WgaEUT4Ptw/s1600/1617146_10152518853997038_4597402162608822315_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCwv8svoEFw1RIhy8ITzICrn6JPxcwezieQeekMkhZxFrewp6LoY2OrqlDdZCBUK0bhmDl0mrQ8UiymKfzqF8Db_pQ8JMRBpDT8zaEM8QYY03VXtJogcLrFQao5jRSdSKM7WgaEUT4Ptw/s1600/1617146_10152518853997038_4597402162608822315_o.jpg" height="640" width="640" /></a></div>
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I have several little doll tea sets that we placed on the table for the girls to use to serve their dollies. </div>
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Magnolia helped out in the balloon department. </div>
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Sweet Rachel, one of Addy's younger friends, kept up with the big girls rather well!</div>
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Our crafts consisted of making <a href="http://www.make-it-do.com/make-it/doll-sized-party-hat-template/" target="_blank">little party hats</a> for all the doll babies, and then created matching bracelets for the dolls and the little girls. Every sweetie had their name on the table and a spot to work from. We did this craft part in the school room. </div>
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Dear Hayley making her bracelets. </div>
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Clara is a lovely friend from CC and from church. Gah! The cuteness!</div>
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The girls passed around a couple jars of chocolates and tried to guess how many were in each jar. There is some serious thinking going on here. </div>
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While the girls and I were at CC in the morning, the mister made this fun "Pin the Dress-up on the Donkey." Each girl was blindfolded and got to try and add a different accessory to this delightful donkey. Yes, those hoofs are painted pink.</div>
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Eatin' Time!</div>
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Followed swiftly by cake and presents. </div>
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Happy day all around. I adore this girly-girl so much. Happy Birthday, Addy Rose!</div>
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PS. The life-saver of the day was a sweet young lady from our fellowship group, Erin. She came over to help me out with keeping things going and taking pictures. She totally saved my bacon with all the beautiful pictures she took. Thank you, Erin!</div>
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PSS. Now, if this new little lady in my belly would make her birthday known, I would be one thrilled momma! We are going on a week passed due!</div>
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<br />Lydia Hickokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12146989824512671125noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2505820611093790595.post-35279240546560093332014-12-02T03:51:00.000-08:002014-12-02T03:51:13.856-08:00It Was A Good One<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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If my calculations are right, this is the first Thanksgiving meal I've made since our first year of marriage. Back then we lived in a tiny apartment and had two of the most interesting people on planet visiting with us (that's my shout out to Ruth & Aaron!). No children. No relatives. Calm and quiet. I think the turkey was edible and the gravy pretty gelatinous. </div>
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So, for round two ten years later, we again had some very interesting visitors. They came in the shape of one sister, one brother-in-law, one sister-in-law, one grandmother, one aunt, one uncle, and seven children under eight years old. Oh, and one bun-in-the-oven around 32 weeks old. Phew! It was far (oh, SO far) from calm and quiet. The gravy looked more like gravy and less like beige jello, and the turkey tasted remarkably like turkey. </div>
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On all accounts, it has to be up there as one fo the best Thanksgivings we've ever had. </div>
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Having so many turkeys in the house at one time, can be confusing, but I usually managed to tell them apart. </div>
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My sister, Beka, came all the way from Wisconsin to spend a quick two days with us. She has had a crazy first-year teaching in Milwaukee, and I was so thankful she could come here and take a little breather from it all.</div>
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While the turkey was cooking, the mister took Ben and Tori and all the little cousins to the park for some exercise before the feast. I believe he told them to look lovey-dovey here. Ben honed right in to that! </div>
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Micah is only a couple months younger than Lily at seven years old. Love this little man. </div>
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Our neice, Julia, the only girl amongst three boys, can hold her own! </div>
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My Lily bean. Gah! Too big!</div>
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Addy showing off some of her skilz. Log walking, check!</div>
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Magnolia, up from her nap, was ready to chow down.</div>
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Some of the spread. My girls decorated the table with hand drawn pictures and little leafy nests. </div>
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The day after Thanksgiving, Aunt Sarah and Uncle Bob stopped in to witness the full house. They fit right in with all the crazy. </div>
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I had no idea that when I married into the Hickok clan, that game-playing was a requirement. It has become one of my favorite things about my mister and his siblings. We played so many games! Quiddler, Settlers, Carcasone, Dominion, Spoons, Gobble-Gobble, Hide-n-Seek, the Feather Game, Pig, Battle Ship, and Uno. </div>
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Here is a big <i>Thank You </i>to all our dear family that joined us this year. I learned so much from watching you all this week. I saw two brothers talk and play Legos until the wee hours of the night. I saw Tori get down on the floor and play countless games with the children when little spirits started to get too ruffled. I saw my mister keep calm amidst all kind of chaos. I saw my mom have ready hands to help in every situation, before I could even ask. I saw my sister on the bottom of numerous piles of children, all laughing and giggling like, well, like crazy little kids. I saw Bob and Sarah play games until way past their bed time, while delving out all kinds of bizzare word and food trivia. I saw kids jumping in to clear the table, help the littlest ones get around, and serve each other in lots of different ways. I got to have coffee with kindred spirits, talking about God and his many unspeakable gifts. A sweet slice of heaven, my friends. </div>
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<br />Lydia Hickokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12146989824512671125noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2505820611093790595.post-64560855268589552732014-10-21T07:55:00.001-07:002014-10-21T10:18:51.662-07:00The Good Things<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1bXihK5V6mkiuoBosE7PYmU1DhTzcqTT55dq_4V_p0vdvP_F4cGJ0lu_UeM0lzO5EmzZ1o4iIXKhiq4tpRO1TnU6jx0KWstx3Hs0N4YHKP448HIXy0-wq6ag44jdQNejQMGcJhfrL7cw/s1600/PA.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1bXihK5V6mkiuoBosE7PYmU1DhTzcqTT55dq_4V_p0vdvP_F4cGJ0lu_UeM0lzO5EmzZ1o4iIXKhiq4tpRO1TnU6jx0KWstx3Hs0N4YHKP448HIXy0-wq6ag44jdQNejQMGcJhfrL7cw/s1600/PA.jpg" height="380" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZxQ-XJ6fIKjxUVk1ZXGCjXomTZa-VI-vHmeVzE-iEUyoC3vD_VPKSa5G1IUxe_kNMf3dHtm1ILTjC7kuNhEx82D8ByJIFPhyphenhyphenMbRD8Fi5BsC2Uk1DohODzLb4SnLeNDyuLJmaoYI990cM/s1600/PA2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZxQ-XJ6fIKjxUVk1ZXGCjXomTZa-VI-vHmeVzE-iEUyoC3vD_VPKSa5G1IUxe_kNMf3dHtm1ILTjC7kuNhEx82D8ByJIFPhyphenhyphenMbRD8Fi5BsC2Uk1DohODzLb4SnLeNDyuLJmaoYI990cM/s1600/PA2.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
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Bare feet & missing teeth.</div>
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<a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/create/extension/" style="background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; left: 42px; line-height: 0; min-height: 20px; min-width: 40px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; top: 470px; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a><a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/create/extension/" style="background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; left: 42px; line-height: 0; min-height: 20px; min-width: 40px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; top: 470px; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a>Lydia Hickokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12146989824512671125noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2505820611093790595.post-40077926400714269122014-08-08T05:10:00.002-07:002014-08-08T05:10:05.267-07:00The New House: Formal Living Room and Entryway<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgylAjcnXWkZop3AY5D2xePNHV9ehUJ4r_Tu0X9l9t_DYVyQlaZfNWDXLcmk6_vSKBNG9Z5bBpV2mYaxA9Oc5h5_nRcTrvdg9VCReBgg7c2Hljhzc42t5tVNG0arWUfo0NRsYkZXMzPm3o/s1600/DSC04226.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgylAjcnXWkZop3AY5D2xePNHV9ehUJ4r_Tu0X9l9t_DYVyQlaZfNWDXLcmk6_vSKBNG9Z5bBpV2mYaxA9Oc5h5_nRcTrvdg9VCReBgg7c2Hljhzc42t5tVNG0arWUfo0NRsYkZXMzPm3o/s1600/DSC04226.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
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Hey all! I have been wanting to post some house pictures for a while, but I just haven't made time for it of late (or I can't keep the house clean enough to take said photos, you decide). But, it seemed like the formal living room was finally complete, so it was gonna be now or never. </div>
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Remember when we first moved in six months ago, I envisioned a <a href="http://sophiaandrose.blogspot.com/2014/03/the-living-room-make-over-reveal.html" target="_blank">full wall of built-in shelving here</a>? That dream seemed a few years down the line. But, as only the mister can do, he scored these two quirky book shelves (handmade in Italy) for twenty bucks at a garage sale last month. They actually didn't come with legs. Luckily, I had a couple of chairs that died during our last move, so I snagged the legs before tossing the chairs. Honestly, I didn't think they would work at first, but the man was insistent, and I was sorely mistaken! I thought adding the legs to those shelves was a genius move, Mr. Hickok.</div>
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We scored that real sheepskin rug from Costco last month for an insanely cheap price (I have wanted one ever since I sprawled out on the sheepskin at Aisha and Grady's place many moons ago. BTW, I miss you guys, you rock!). So far I have found one or two of my girls laying on it reading almost every day. Yay for a new cozy reading place!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwzHkdTzCb319fbleIqBmWgi8xLqJlcl17sYXSshSXvDi77tX4Ps4uNCvPgJW7kyY38PrtxDuLJU1g_xp3cIRuRhSvH3v4lrLRI979ZVoZpq90bN2l9RQ__ROgyuM00WoTY-0vjy5kzg0/s1600/DSC04210.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwzHkdTzCb319fbleIqBmWgi8xLqJlcl17sYXSshSXvDi77tX4Ps4uNCvPgJW7kyY38PrtxDuLJU1g_xp3cIRuRhSvH3v4lrLRI979ZVoZpq90bN2l9RQ__ROgyuM00WoTY-0vjy5kzg0/s1600/DSC04210.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
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On a side note, does anyone else struggle with were to put your TV? I know we are probably in the minority, since we really only use it once a week, and some weeks not at all (I should post about our TV evolution some time, quite the journey). But to toss it out completely stinks for those occasions when we would want to have it, like family movie night, date night with Mario Cart, or watching home videos. So, I finally decided to hang it here and let the dark walls kind of masked the TV from being the focus of the room. And since the chairs aren't all facing it, it doesn't seem to garner quite so much attention. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjynZmFWzHU7H8Y3oWVBC04cd7Yo2zbcXswZB7-WyX-WgmSkoGB9q4fnO9nE1JflKcbHeyJ18Nv2cv_2g3V_udpxYD4MOEJ2R0Z7TswJ38tGqBHBKkqs3zlPhLi9Znr0p0OV8kOEwfZsOM/s1600/DSC04216.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjynZmFWzHU7H8Y3oWVBC04cd7Yo2zbcXswZB7-WyX-WgmSkoGB9q4fnO9nE1JflKcbHeyJ18Nv2cv_2g3V_udpxYD4MOEJ2R0Z7TswJ38tGqBHBKkqs3zlPhLi9Znr0p0OV8kOEwfZsOM/s1600/DSC04216.jpg" height="384" width="640" /></a></div>
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Here is a look from the other side peeking into the entryway. Someday we would like to widen the opening to the den on the far side of the house and make it feel more open on the main floor. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0XMZS8F7fslTHehS8wtvQgIY3xniEBPjFrVXdp-cuu4g9s6nCDngMODJW_4e9idf6GKpc_nEAKsAeHHOHPjhnulEDWOR3sk_2mEdm3fMaY5JXpudxXemk84kRtg3oLtLN1sh4E03NqOY/s1600/DSC04236.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0XMZS8F7fslTHehS8wtvQgIY3xniEBPjFrVXdp-cuu4g9s6nCDngMODJW_4e9idf6GKpc_nEAKsAeHHOHPjhnulEDWOR3sk_2mEdm3fMaY5JXpudxXemk84kRtg3oLtLN1sh4E03NqOY/s1600/DSC04236.jpg" height="448" width="640" /></a></div>
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Here is a closeup of Wonder Woman herself. As you can see, the mister is on a super hero kick lately with his LEGO statues. Wonder Woman just replaced Retro Batman in the place of honor. Does this graduate us to galactic geeks, or too cool for school?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN9QzKeCbUGWRLrr6Q2GW2vI7jGZQB9iL1nnBLJ0-ewZMdIdmyJwlrct5jqomMJmgkGeD4fqTp2ELjHjBC7X1vgC0O9zDfPWe9LlO15zGoZR7b60oMKqRsD3oYD5ACj9BF3IKKYMBeHXc/s1600/DSC04219+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN9QzKeCbUGWRLrr6Q2GW2vI7jGZQB9iL1nnBLJ0-ewZMdIdmyJwlrct5jqomMJmgkGeD4fqTp2ELjHjBC7X1vgC0O9zDfPWe9LlO15zGoZR7b60oMKqRsD3oYD5ACj9BF3IKKYMBeHXc/s1600/DSC04219+copy.jpg" height="640" width="384" /></a></div>
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The view when you first come in the house looks straight through the kitchen to the sun room/dining room at the back of the house. It is a very small entryway, so I painted it white to make it feel larger (and it does), and the mister added the trim with the hooks for some fun details. We wrapped the trim around the whole entry just for funzies. </div>
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As you come in the front door, the formal living room is to your right...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxF-XqScsC1aTMohLDwNanyRLRinNi1vnSuFOwIdEMBfi7xTaOCgiKOUtKbvqbe64T4OAYarTgH07bXETQJywYQR7O8TYShtoYwKNj1LFbx6S-QRX3h9_lk8A7Vq2o1mH0sfBOJWbdj8U/s1600/DSC04230.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxF-XqScsC1aTMohLDwNanyRLRinNi1vnSuFOwIdEMBfi7xTaOCgiKOUtKbvqbe64T4OAYarTgH07bXETQJywYQR7O8TYShtoYwKNj1LFbx6S-QRX3h9_lk8A7Vq2o1mH0sfBOJWbdj8U/s1600/DSC04230.jpg" height="640" width="462" /></a></div>
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...and the den with the fireplace is off the your left. This room isn't even close to being complete, with only one picture hung and no other seating besides our sectional. It is a pretty shade of pink. Kind of a "his and hers" living rooms--some people have towels, we've got rooms! Haha! Not my intention, but it makes me smile nonetheless. </div>
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So there you have it! A house update, finally! Have a great weekend, everyone!</div>
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<a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/create/extension/" style="background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; left: 42px; line-height: 0; min-height: 20px; min-width: 40px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; top: 18px; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a><a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/create/extension/" style="background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; left: 42px; line-height: 0; min-height: 20px; min-width: 40px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; top: 18px; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a>Lydia Hickokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12146989824512671125noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2505820611093790595.post-32775984874293932022014-08-04T05:05:00.000-07:002014-08-04T05:05:17.556-07:00Still Catching up! Happy Fourth Everyone!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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God Bless America! Happy Fourth of August everyone! That's a thing, right? </div>
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Either Virginia has some pretty random extra holidays, or (once again) I am playing the Lame-O card and posting a month late. Lame-O card it is. But after this, I may actually be caught up on the biggies. Hooray!</div>
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We celebrated our Fourth of with a couple of "Hickok firsts." </div>
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This year the girls and I walked in our very first parade! It was definitely a highlight of the summer.</div>
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A dear couple from our church walks the Brandermill Parade every year, passing out bouncy balls, and carrying this sweet sign. Some of the kids also had some doggy biscuits for all the hungry pups along the route. </div>
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What a treat! Instead of being one of the kiddos with bags collecting a ton of candy and stuff (all the while fighting the "Mine! Mine!" attitude), the girls had the BEST time putting the balls in all the other kids' bags and feeding puppies. I would absolutely do this again!</div>
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The parade route ended at Sunday Park, where we were treated to free hot dogs and drinks, listened to a hilarious local band, and dipped our tootsies in the water on the beach.</div>
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Magnolia was a real trooper in her stroller, giving out free smiles and waves! Although, she didn't seem to reserve any for her momma's camera. That cheeky girl!</div>
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Later that night we headed to the fair grounds to catch some fireworks (another first). </div>
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Normally, we are homebodies on the 4th, but this time we ventured out with the crowds to celebrate our first Virginian Fourth! The ending verdict was mixed. We showed up way to early, and paid for it when it was time to leave. Also, fair food is not my cuppa tea, folks. Maybe a little bit more planning (i.e. a lovely picnic spread and showing up a half hour before the show).</div>
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My little flower child! Lily passed the time playing soccer with Addy (or on her lonesome), and making flower chains with momma.</div>
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The kids were done, kapootsy, at the end of the night, but they made some totally amazing memories. Like the memory of waiting in our parking spot for over an hour, just to pull out into the crazy traffic! </div>
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Next up, Happy Thanksgiving in January!</div>
Lydia Hickokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12146989824512671125noreply@blogger.com4