Words to read by

Several months back, I worked on these little bookmarks. I'm not about wasting paper, so when a client ordered square postcards and the printer had some extra space on the rectangular sheet, I designed these little bookmarks with some good little reminders to keep on hand or between the pages of your favorite book.

Now if only I had time to read...

I got the above Lovebird placecard holders at Beau-Coup. Each bird has little slot in its beak that can hold a piece of paper. They're made of solid metal, giving them a nice weight, and come in a set of eight. If you've never shopped at Beau-Coup, they offer exceptional customer service, and have some really cute products on their site.

Wham, Bam, Thank-you Jam.

Last week, we went berry picking for the first time. One would think that it had all of the right ingredients for a happy afternoon to share with a two-year-old. You have an open field, berries to eat, and friends nearby. Not so. It was a gripe fest through and through. Still, I got this cute picture of the little man with our boxes (which had only two dozen strawberries after an hour of picking).

To my surprise, we eventually left with three heaping trays of juicy Michigan strawberries for jam. I owe it all to a friend with a minivan with a DVD player. So much for quality time with the little man. Sidenote: he's since been pointing to the overhead light of our 1997 Jeep Cherokee and saying, "Is THAT a TV? I wanna watch a movie. I wanna new car." But back to the jam.

This wasn't your everyday jam. You're talking personally picked, strongly smushed, sweetly sugared, prayerfully pectin(ated), joyfully jarred Jam. Which I now like to call my very own "Wham, Bam, Thank-you Jam." The perfect thing to have on hand when a simple thank-you won't do. What can I say? I'm all about branding. And eating jam, as of late.

And thanks to this jam, breakfast is so much sweeter these days. As is my two-year-old.

Say it with flowers. Or design. Or both.

When a friend or loved one is going through a trial or experiencing a loss, it's hard to find just the right words to say, or the right thing to do. Some people head to the kitchen and bake up a meal or a batch of cookies. My creativity however seems to end the moment I step in the kitchen, so I like to show my love in other ways.

These flowers were for a remarkable young lady and granddaughter of some dear friends of ours. Hunter was diagnosed with bone cancer this past March, and over the past four months has undergone an aggressive treatment plan to conquer her cancer. Despite the tremendous obstacles that this family has faced, they have demonstrated courage, faith, and determination.

On the morning of a pretty significant surgery for Hunter, I had her on my heart and wanted to do something special. My son and I picked flowers from our garden, and we put together this little vase to leave on her doorstep.

I can only hope to one day have the courage and beauty that this special young lady has.

facing the giants (or in this case, dinosaur)

No, this entry doesn't have anything to do about paper. Good. We've gotten that out of the way.

Our son is 2 1/2, and suffice it to say that we've already gotten some good mileage out of our Detroit Zoo membership. Every time we go, we discover something new. So we were excited to round the corner during a recent outing and see this "preview" of the upcoming dinosaur exhibit, Dinosauria. What you can't see from this photo is that the T-Rex roars. And moves. I'm talking tail, neck, jaws... Now imagine that you are two, and that all of the animals you've seen so far that day are real. Logic would lead you to assume that this, too, was very real. And very close. With nothing but a rope between you.

Caleb stood frozen in his footsteps, and clenched his "bat" (a carrot-shaped bat from Easter). Every time the T-Rex would roar, he would swing the bat menacingly. Which pretty much sums him up. This photo was taken shortly before I explained to him that the dinosaur was "pretend." A conversation which went over almost as well as my feeble attempts at explaining why Rice Krispies eventually stop snapping and crackling. I'm still not sure if he understood me this time around, but I guess we'll find out if he asks to bring a bat (or some other toy that can be repurposed as a weapon) the next time we go to the Detroit Zoo.

May the giants (or dinosaurs) you face today turn out to be far less menacing than you originally thought. Or not. In which case, don't forget your carrot bat.