home & garden

No rain, no flowers.

Out of the Thistle 4 Comments

Hey, how are you? It’s been a while. I hope you’re doing well, that things are okay. If you’re not all right, well then, that’s okay too. Truth be told, I think the majority of us aren’t “all right.” We all go through an ebb and flow of difficult situations that are essentially helping us grow up into better versions of ourselves, even though they seem to come in the version of 20-foot waves.

I love (yet also simultaneously despise) the saying “no rain, no flowers.” It’s reassuring that the waves of torrential downpour will guarantee growth, but nobody wants to keep getting dumped on in order to see the bounty of blossoms.

Did you know this business began over 30 years ago? Bet a dime you didn’t, and it’s likely that you may have never even heard of us until recently, or even today. See, shortly after my mom and grandma started this business, it rained. And it didn’t just sprinkle or mist, we’re talking 40 days’ and 40 nights’ worth. Could you imagine essentially being a nobody (sorry ma) that people were still so threatened by? There was wave after wave of people who sought to fight against the productivity, the growth of this little business.

The flood of legal battles have ended all in our favor (thank you God), and so seems the defamation as well. The army we once faced for nearly two decades, many of those jumped ship. However, after the water dissipated, we realized that the time lost on protecting our possessions would never be recouped. In those days of legal paperwork and continuously setting the record straight, we were outrun in the race. We had lost time investing in promoting our products. People who had just begun these crafts were already widely known. We thought the lack of interest was because of the types of products we made, so we invested even more time in design, and even less in advertising and reaching out.

Friends, can I tell you, sometimes it feels like The Great Flood is at your door. You may feel like you are experiencing tumultuous undercurrents from other people, which keep you from your full potential. Don’t look at it that way. It becomes really easy to be dismayed, trust me. To be clear, you’re not a bad person for losing faith over it.  I’ve been there. Sometimes, I didn’t want to be faithful, but I looked at it as a duty. If you focus on the bad that’s happening, you’re only going to drown yourself.

If we hadn’t experienced everything that we did, we may not have grown into creating better products, we may not have grown into becoming wiser in business relations and protecting our intellectual property. We’ve become more bold. We also relate to a lot more people now, sharing struggles. This business may not mean anything to anyone else, except those who wanted it snuffed out. But we’re here, we’re growing, and I think it’s finally showing! We are pretty dang excited with our refined designs (we’ll share more in the next few days).

Recite these, heck, stitch it on your sleeves: no grit, no pearl; no pressure, no diamond; no rain, no flowers. And just remember, you aren’t the only one who gets to enjoy your flowers!

Here’s some florals from around my house to distract you and temporarily drown away your sorrows. I hope your clouds will clear out soon!

Hugs,  Rhonda

Christmas can stay. 

Out of the Thistle 4 Comments

Sometimes, I feel as though I was destined to live in a little Nordic village surrounded by snowdrifts and wearing intricately knitted mittens, walking down tiny, dark streets that have dozens of little glowing windows lighting the sidewalk. Currently where I live is the opposite. Sunny Arizona. We had roses blooming on Christmas and our Japanese maple had just begun to turn a deep port wine. The tree in the backyard lit up our whole living room to a sunny yellow hue until Christmas Eve. 
“Merry Christmas, it feels like Halloween.” 

As I scrolled through lovely instagram feeds and blogs with blankets of snow and evergreens, I admit I got jealous–however I’m not jealous of traveling in it. Just, otherwise. It was hard to dive into the new season when I felt stuck in the last one. But it’s like God was telling me that there is always something to celebrate, regardless of the season you’re in, regardless of the circumstances. Just when Christmas was almost passed, I finally started celebrating. In fact, we’ve continued to celebrate even after December has ended. I mean, who says you can’t make santa cookies after Christmas? And i feel like Christmas isn’t truly over until you want it to be. Or until the gingerbread cookies are gone. Whichever. I still have my trees and wreaths and lights up. I told my husband, “They’re not coming down ’til February!” He obliged–I think mostly because he won’t have to climb up to the second story roof to take down the exterior wreaths just yet. 

I feel like I’m still hanging onto Christmas because I let my outside circumstances keep me from focusing on the important and it passed me by. Christmas is a time for us to slow down. To celebrate Jesus–not only his birth, but all of his works as well. It’s a time to cuddle, to create, to celebrate. And to eat cookies. The four C’s. Remember that.

I think we collectively, as a whole, are so eager to start on a new year, new us, new life, blah blah… that we rush through The Best Holiday. But if you feel like it passed you by without really saturating yourself in all its goodness, bake some soft gingerbread cookies and let your kids decorate them. Make some hot cocoa and do a Christmas puzzle. Leave up twinkle lights a little longer. Knit stockings and watch Christmas movies. Just enjoy the season if you, like I, missed it.
We hope that you had/have a happy, happy Christmas.

Hugs, Rhonda

November Light

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I don’t know about there, but it has been unseasonably warm here in our neck of the woods. Today, finally today, the weather dipped a little bit. Our noses were numb on this morning’s walk, but it was good. I was beginning to grow tired of the perfect temps as odd as it is to say. But we are knitters and crocheters. We live for the cold.  Those unbearable 70-80 degree days have had their highlights, though. For about a week there, I would look out my front windows to see dozens, if not a hundred little butterflies floating around all of my Perky Sues, Petunias and Alyssum. The kids would go outside and just twirl around in the butterflies. It was awesome. And even for about a week after Halloween, we had still enjoyed ‘spooky sprinkles’ on our cocoa. A certain little someone even wore her costume day and night for a while there (below she can be seen delighting in a yogurt breakfast and walking brother to the bus stop dressed as a butterfly).

The days are more noticeably shorter, the stretched out shadows outside begin at about 4pm now. And there’s just something about November’s light around here. Especially at the beginning and end of the day. Everything seems more golden.

But we are bundling up today–hooray! And so are our creations. I mean, look at my mom’s most recent bear below. Is he not the sweetest little guy you’ve ever seen. With his little hand knitted overalls and cowl… He is available here for a very short time! This little guy is unlike any other artist bear–he was crocheted out of 100% wool then put through a vigorous process to shrink him up, making him more plush and fleece-like. Impressive work from that woman! She also has a pattern just released for her Knot Head bears which is for sale on Etsy and will be offered at other venues soon. We’ve also got some warm wooly knitted designs coming up, so look out! Thanks for stopping by!

Hugs, Rhonda

 

 

Oh, October

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As the foliage fireworks display makes way for the Winter dormancy, as so do we prepare for the repose of these seasons. This is the time of year to celebrate change and celebrate coziness. We’ve celebrated Autumn births and birthdays, we’ve celebrated new friendships and the rekindling of relationships. The brightly dappled bursts of color will soon fade and fall away, baring the empty branches. We hate there comes a time to say goodbye to everything pumpkin. But, we are reminded that the time of slumber during the Winter allow for closeness, and Spring will soon be here again with it’s own colorful parade of petals. We just plan on enjoying the cozy over these next few months, and hope you do as well.

Here’s a few snippets of our Fall thus far. Enjoy!

Hugs, Rhonda

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Fleeting Moments

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img_6246img_6382img_6402img_6501img_6563img_6963img_7145img_7230img_7249-800x533img_7252-800x533I feel it–the summer season is beginning to fade. Masses of flowers are staying bloomed a bit longer, now that they aren’t so quickly baked in the sun. There’s a cool morning breeze that teases us, only making way to warm midday temps. The occasional wind gusts whip through and scatter petals all over like confetti. This is when I begin to beckon the sweater weather by baking everything with pumpkin and cloves and leaving an apple cider candle lit all day. This is when I eat entirely too much bread. And yes, I break a sweat waiting for a pie to finish baking. Completely worth it.

In spite of my baked-sweets Fall summoning, it comes in it’s own slow-as-molasses timing. As soon as it’s here, it’s gone. The seemingly shortest, most beautiful season. As soon as it passes I feel like I spend the whole year waiting for next fall.  Here in the Southwest, I feel like the Dog Days of Summer last soooo much longer than in other regions.

Though the trees have yet to turn golden, I’ll take my time and enjoy the rest of what the warm sunshine has to offer in this last week of summer–no matter that it feels like an eternity. Besides, as the seasons grow and change, so do my kids. And I’d be okay if that would slow down.

Here’s a few things we’ve been working on, eaten, or enjoyed looking at while the weather hasn’t complied with our desires. If you’d like to see some more of those adorable rattles, view them here.

Thanks for following.

Hugs, Rhonda

 

 

 

Back in Session.

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When school’s out you’re elated that the kids choose to sleep in their swimsuits, helping to lighten your laundry load a bit. You’re happy that you don’t have to stand in 100-degree temps in that un-Godly pick-up line when school is out for the day. There’s no re-teaching yourself how to graph linear equations just so you can help your child with their homework.

Thank God we aren’t there yet.

But then summer sets in and you’ve got bubble containers and squirt guns and Hot Wheels strewn about your backyard, not to mention your clusters of crepe myrtle and Mexican petunias blowing around the patio because they were rejected from the little ones’ picture-perfect bouquets. And then you have a handful of nieces and nephews staying over for a while, and they love playing with Playdoh and clomping around in your heels (which is when you decide that the entire upstairs needs area rugs). Your daughter even decided to scoot around wearing your sister’s heels. You have nieces who just love baking so you all make lemon loaf and distribute it to the six kids currently in your house, and all those kids get a major sugar rush and run in circles for an hour and finally crash into piles on the living room floor surrounded by every pillow in the entire house. Then there’s arguments and wresting and uncontrollable laughter and hearing your TV the loudest it has ever been. You try not to break your neck bringing in groceries while climbing the mountain of scooters and bikes in front of the door (at one time there were four scooters and three bikes!). After the girls wash mud from their feet, you run a bath and the handshower is on full-blast, spraying your walls, ceiling and floor uncontrollably like a crazy snake you can’t grasp on to. You keep thinking about all of those half-painted walls that you can’t do anything about while there are so.. many.. hands around. At the end of the day you do not one, but two, loads of dishes and wonder when you had gotten so many kid cups. You go through a loaf of bread in the blink of an eye. You willingly wake up at 5:30 to squeeze in some quiet coffee-time, though you stayed up ’til 11:30 knitting the night before–and what truly jolts you awake is stepping on that Lego that was camouflaged on the carpet. And in those early twilight hours, you know you should be getting to work on something, but you get distracted while staring at all of your blooms that are bowing down in the wind and watching the clouds roll in. You feel like you haven’t blinked in a couple of hours. After the annual summer vacation, you feel like you are still cleaning up residual sand weeks later and wondering how long that sunburn is gonna take to heal. You hope that you all don’t look like tomatoes for your first family photos in like 6 years. Then, you go school shopping with every other parent who gives you the look of “Hang in there. The finish line is close. We only have a few more days left of summer break.”

And then, school starts.

That first day, it’s so quiet. You can actually hear your ceiling fan. And it kind of drives you nuts, so you turn on some music and try to get back into the mode of work. then you find yourself staring out the window again, thinking about and missing your kids. You’re wondering if they are making new friends and like their teacher, hoping that they eat all of their carrots, and praying that there’s no homework on day one. You’re thankful for teachers who have the patience of Saints. Then you think of your AP English teacher and hope that she doesn’t read your blog post that is full of incomplete sentences and run-ons and hope that she doesn’t feel like a failure for my grammatical short-comings. Then you think of everything you did this summer and all the fun that was had–all the fun that outweighed the gobs of laundry and dishes. In the thick of all that chaos were a lot of lovely little moments. You realize that all those mishaps were quite entertaining, and you’re just really grateful to not live a dull life. And you are actually looking forward to the next summer break, but you are thankful that it is ten months away.