🌿 A Different Kind of Grocery Trip

 

I approached the grocery store the way I always do — more out of habit than from any kind of heartfelt intention. The doors slid open, and as I walked toward the carts, something in me paused. It was small, but real. A tiny awareness rising up through the routine.

And honestly, the store doesn’t make it easy to stay aware. It’s definitely designed to take away any pretense of being in control. The moment you step inside, the world shifts — the lighting softens, the colors brighten, the music hums just enough to lower your guard. It’s like the store is saying, Don’t think. Just follow.

For years, I did exactly that. I let the store lead. I wandered. I browsed. I let the displays and the smells and the “specials” tell me what I needed. But this time, standing there with my hand on the cart, I felt the tug — and I didn’t move.

Instead, I took a breath and reminded myself that I wasn’t here to be guided. I wasn’t here to be entertained or tempted. I was here with a plan, even if the list was sitting at home on the counter. I knew what I needed because I’d already thought it through. The store might be designed to sweep me into its rhythm, but I didn’t have to dance along.

So I pushed my cart forward with intention, not autopilot. And with every aisle I walked, something surprising started to grow in me — pride. Real, grounded pride. The kind that settles in your chest and makes you stand a little taller.

Because for the first time ever, I wasn’t drifting toward the cookies “just to look.” I wasn’t letting the pretty packages whisper their usual “maybe you need this” song. I didn’t even pretend to consider the things I used to toss in my cart without thinking. Half the time, I don’t even know what’s in those packages — just that they’re shiny and new and designed to catch me off guard.

But not today.

Today, I walked right past them. No hesitation. No internal debate. Just a quiet, steady no — and an even stronger yes to myself, my plan, and my No Spend year.

And that feeling… that was new. That was powerful. It felt like I was finally steering my own cart, my own choices, my own life — one aisle at a time.

By the time I reached the checkout, I felt different. Lighter, somehow. Not because I bought less — though I did — but because every single thing in my cart was something I chose on purpose. Nothing extra. Nothing whispered into my cart by clever packaging or end‑cap displays.

It was the first time I’d ever stood in that line and felt… accomplished. Proud. Like I’d just passed a test I didn’t even know I’d been studying for all these years.

The cashier scanned my items, and instead of that familiar flicker of guilt — the “how did all this get in here?” moment — I felt steady. Clear. In control. I knew exactly what I was paying for, and why.

Walking out with my bags, I didn’t feel deprived. I felt powerful. Like I’d finally stepped out of the store’s rhythm and into my own.

Living the Challenge: When “No Spend” Becomes Something More I started this No Spend year thinking it would be about money. About holding back, saying no, and tightening things up. But somewhere along the way, something shifted. I realized I wasn’t just following rules anymore—I was actually living the challenge. It’s quieter than I expected. Not dramatic or restrictive. More like a gentle awareness that follows me through the day. I notice what I reach for, what I think I need, and what I already have. And most of the time, what I already have is enough.

 This month especially, I’ve felt that shift settle in. Instead of feeling deprived, I feel grounded. Instead of wanting to shop, I want to create. Instead of clutter, I’m finding clarity. It’s as if the challenge has moved from my budget to my heart. And the sweetest part? The giving. Turning scraps into tiny gowns and blankets reminded me that abundance isn’t about what we buy—it’s about what we can offer. Those little pieces of fabric, the ones I might have tossed aside, became something meaningful for families who need comfort.

 That changed me more than I expected. I’m also seeing my home differently. Not as a place full of things, I need to manage, but as a place full of resources waiting to be used. A place where creativity lives. A place where I can breathe. Living the challenge means I’m not counting the days or the dollars. I’m paying attention to the moments. The small wins. The quiet pride that comes from choosing intention over impulse. I didn’t plan for this shift, but I’m grateful for it. This isn’t just a No Spend year anymore. It’s a new way of being—lighter, clearer, and more connected to what matters.

 Everly’s Easter Dress

There’s something extra sweet about sewing for a little one, isn’t there? Especially when the whole project comes together without a single trip to the store. This Easter dress for Everly was one of those simple, happy wins that remind me why I love sewing in the first place. There is also nothing like a request for an Easter dress when you are in a no buy challenge. to make a grandma's heart skip a beat!

Could I even pull this off?

The fabric was already in my stash, tucked away from a bundle a friend had given me ages ago. Soft pastels, a little spring cheer, and just enough yardage to make something twirly. I didn’t have to buy a thing. Not a zipper, not a button, not even thread. Everything I needed was already right here at home.

The best part was how easy it felt. After weeks of sewing tiny gowns and blankets for donation—slow, careful, emotional work—this dress felt like a breath of fresh air. Just a joyful little project for a girl who lights up every room she toddles into.

I kept the design simple: sweet lines, a comfortable fit, and a skirt with just enough swish to make her smile. When I held it up at the end, I had that familiar moment of quiet pride. Not because it was fancy, but because it was made with intention, love, and what I already had.

That’s becoming the theme of this whole No Spend year. It’s not about restriction anymore. It’s about noticing the abundance that was here all along.

And seeing Everly in her Easter dress—well, that will be extra special.  First, it needs to be shipped off and a wait for pictures.

🌿 Tiny Pieces, Big Purpose Some weeks, creativity takes a turn you didn’t expect. This was one of those weeks for me. I started out thinking I’d write about using what I have in a practical, everyday way… but my scrap basket had other plans. I found myself asking a simple question: What good does it do to hang on to tiny scraps that only take up space? And the answer surprised me. When you shift your thinking from saving to giving, even the smallest pieces can take on a whole new purpose. 💗 Turning scraps into comfort For years, I’ve saved little bits of fabric — too small for a dress, too odd‑shaped for a quilt. They sat tucked away, waiting for “someday.” But this week, I pulled them out with a different intention: to make tiny things for tiny lives. These little bundles are baby buntings, sewn from leftover flannels and soft prints. They’re simple, gentle, and made with love.

They will go to our hospital’s Footprints on My Heart program — a program that supports families who have lost a precious baby they waited months to hold. There are no words for that kind of grief. Nothing fills that hole. But a handmade item can offer a moment of tenderness in the middle of heartbreak. 🕊️ Tiny blankets, tiny stitches, tiny acts of care I also stitched up small blankets from squares I had already cut long ago. A bit of lace, a soft edge, a sweet print — nothing fancy, but made with intention.

These little blankets are used to wrap or cradle the tiniest babies. They’re a way of saying, Your child mattered. Someone cared enough to make something just for them. 🌸 A hand‑smocked gown for a tiny life And then there’s this little gown — hand‑smocked, soft, and delicate. It’s one of the most meaningful things I make.

Every stitch is a prayer, a whisper of comfort for a family walking through the unimaginable. 🌾 A quiet reminder I’ll carry forward This week didn’t go the way I planned, but maybe that’s the gift. When I slowed down and listened, I found purpose tucked into the smallest corners of my sewing room. These tiny pieces — the ones I used to overlook — became tiny offerings of comfort. And in the process, they reminded me that intentional living isn’t just about restraint. It’s about noticing where love wants to go. Using what I have isn’t only practical. It’s meaningful. It’s connective. It’s enough. And as I step into the next week of this No Spend year, I’m carrying that with me: the quiet truth that even the smallest scraps can become something soft, something needed, something good.

🔑 Freedom as Self‑Trust Month Two: Unlocking a New Confidence in Myself

Closing Out Month Two — Two Full Months of No‑Buy 2026 Two full months. Sixty days of choosing intention over impulse, clarity over clutter, and creativity over consumption. When I look back at where I started, I can feel just how much has shifted — not just in my spending, but in my home, my habits, and my mindset. This month wasn’t about tightening rules. It was about opening space. A Home That Feels Lighter Deep cleaning, decluttering, and organizing have done more than make my home look better — they’ve made it feel better. Every drawer I sorted, every corner I cleared, every forgotten item I rediscovered added a little more calm to my days. My home is breathing again, and so am I. A Mindset That’s Taking Shape Somewhere in Week 7, something clicked. “Make it do or do without” stopped being a challenge and started becoming a source of strength. I’m using what I have — all of it — even the thread I hoarded, the fabric I saved, the supplies I tucked away for “someday.” And the more I use, the more empowered I feel. This isn’t about restriction anymore. It’s about capability. It’s about enoughness. It’s about trusting myself to create, repair, and thrive with what’s already here. Pride That’s Earned, Not Bought I’m proud of the money I didn’t spend, yes — but I’m even more proud of the habits I’m building. I’m more thoughtful. More grounded. More aware of what I truly need. And I’m learning that the urge to buy fades when you fill your life with purpose instead of purchases. Ready for Month Three Month Three is calling with a different kind of energy — creative, playful, resourceful. After two months of clearing space and shifting mindset, I’m stepping into a season of making, mending, and using what I already own in ways that feel joyful. Two months down. Ten to go. And I’m walking into the next one with confidence, clarity, and a whole lot of pride.

Week 7 — Absolutely No More Fabric This week something clicked in a way that feels very real: there will be absolutely no more fabric coming into this house. Not a yard, not a remnant, not even a “but it’s only a dollar” scrap. This is the season of make it do or do without, and I’m finally living that out with intention. And honestly? It feels good. Strong. Clear. Using Every Bit I Already Have I’ve been digging into every corner of my sewing space — the bins, the drawers, the little stashes I kept “just in case.” And I’m using it all. Even the thread I’ve hoarded for years is finally getting its moment. There’s something deeply satisfying about creating with what’s already here. Every stitch feels like a small victory: Made with what I have. Made with purpose. Made without spending. A Challenge Turning Into Empowerment What started as a simple no‑spend rule is turning into a shift in my whole attitude. It’s not just about money anymore — it’s about mindset. I’m more resourceful. I’m more intentional. I’m more confident in my ability to make things work. I’m less pulled by the urge to buy “just because.” It’s wild how saying “no more fabric” can ripple into “I actually have enough in every area of my life.” Shaping More Than My Budget This challenge is shaping my creativity, my habits, and even the way I look at my home. I’m not chasing new supplies — I’m discovering what I can do with the ones I already own. And that shift feels powerful. Week 7 isn’t about restriction. It’s about clarity, capability, and pride.

Why I'm sharing weekly No spend updates

When I started No‑Spend 2026, I knew I wanted to stay accountable — but I also wanted to stay connected. A year is a long time to change habits, shift mindsets, and learn new rhythms, and sharing weekly updates felt like the right way to bring you along for the ride. Weekly posts give me space to reflect on the small wins, the surprising challenges, and the little shifts that happen in real time. Some weeks are about mindset, some are about organizing, some are about creativity — but every week teaches me something new. And honestly? Posting weekly keeps me grounded. It reminds me why I’m doing this, helps me notice progress I might otherwise overlook, and turns this whole journey into something joyful instead of restrictive. So if you’re following along, thank you. I’m happy you’re here. And I’m excited to keep sharing this path — one bright, intentional week at a time.

No Spend Creating

You know how sometimes the stars just align in the most practical way? That’s what happened with this little dress for Everly. A friend handed me a bundle of fabric that had already been cut out—collar, sleeves, pockets, the whole thing. All I had to do was sew it together. No shopping, no spending, just a quiet afternoon with my machine and a cup of tea. It turned out so sweet, and it reminded me why I’m doing No Spend 2026. It’s not about deprivation—it’s about creativity, community, and using what’s already in our hands. This dress feels like a hug from that mindset. So here’s to more moments like this: where resourcefulness meets a little bit of magic, and we get to make something lovely without opening our wallets.

WEEK SIX, HOW IT IS GOING>

 

Need vs. Want: The Mindset Shift That Changed My Spending Habits

When I started No‑Spend 2026 back in January, I thought the hardest part would be saying no to buying things. I imagined temptation everywhere — sales, new arrivals, cute seasonal décor, the “just because” purchases that used to sneak into my cart without a second thought.

But the real challenge wasn’t resisting the buying. It was retraining my brain.

This no‑spend year has forced me to confront something I didn’t realize was so deeply wired into my habits: the difference between what I need and what I simply want. And the more honest I became with myself, the more I realized how blurry that line had become.

The Moment I Realized I Wasn’t Actually Needing Anything

Early in the year, I caught myself reaching for my phone to order something I had convinced myself was essential — a new planner. I told myself it would help me stay organized, stay motivated, stay on track.

But then I opened a drawer and found three half‑used notebooks. Three.

That was the moment it hit me: I wasn’t craving the planner. I was craving the feeling of starting fresh.

And that feeling had nothing to do with the object itself.

Wants Disguised as Needs

Once I started paying attention, I noticed how often my wants dressed up as needs:

• “I need a new water bottle.” (No, I wanted a cuter one.)

• “I need more comfy clothes.” (No, I wanted the dopamine hit of something new.)

• “I need a new candle.” (No, I wanted comfort — and I already had candles.)

It was humbling. It was uncomfortable. And it was exactly the wake‑up call I needed.

The Pause That Changed Everything

The biggest shift came from learning to pause.

Before this year, I bought things quickly — almost automatically. If I wanted something, I got it. If I felt bored, stressed, or uninspired, I shopped. It was a reflex.

Now, when a want pops up, I stop and ask myself:

• What problem am I trying to solve?

• Is this a true need or just a momentary desire?

• Do I already own something that can do the job?

• Will this matter in 48 hours?

Most of the time, the urge fades. And when it doesn’t, I write it down on a “Buy Later” list — a list that has grown surprisingly long, even though I haven’t purchased a single thing from it.

Understanding the Emotional Side of Wanting

This no‑spend year has made me more aware of the emotional triggers behind my wants:

• Stress made me want comfort purchases.

• Boredom made me want novelty.

• Comparison made me want upgrades.

• Fatigue made me want convenience.

None of those were true needs. They were feelings asking for attention.

And once I started addressing the feelings instead of buying the fix, everything changed.

What I Actually Need (Spoiler: It’s Not Much)

The more I decluttered, cleaned, and organized, the more I realized how little I truly need:

• A functional home

• A manageable wardrobe

• A few things that bring genuine joy

• Tools that support my daily routines

• A space that feels calm, not crowded

Everything else? It’s just noise.

The Freedom of Wanting Less

The biggest surprise of this journey is how freeing it feels to want less. Not because I’m restricting myself, but because I’m finally seeing clearly.

I don’t feel deprived. I feel grounded.

I don’t feel like I’m missing out. I feel like I’m waking up.

And the best part? My home feels lighter. My mind feels clearer. My spending habits feel intentional for the first time in years.

The Mindset Shift I’m Carrying Forward

This need‑vs‑want clarity is something I know I’ll keep long after 2026 ends. It’s reshaped how I see my belongings, my habits, and myself.

I’ve learned that:

• Wants are temporary.

• Needs are steady.

• And most of the time, I already have enough.

This shift didn’t just change my spending. It changed my relationship with my home, my routines, and my sense of contentment.

And honestly? That’s worth more than anything I could have bought.

I would love to hear how it is going for you? It is so surprising to me, nor at all what I expected!

My no buy year of 2026

My First Month of the No‑Buy 2026 Challenge: What I Learned, What I Loved, and What Surprised Me

January is officially in the books, and so is my first month of the No‑Buy 2026 Challenge. When I committed to a full year of intentional spending, I knew it would stretch me — but I didn’t expect just how much clarity, discomfort, and empowerment would show up in only 31 days.

Why I Started

I didn’t join this challenge because I hate shopping. I joined because I wanted to understand my habits, my impulses, and the emotional “why” behind the things I buy. I wanted to reset my relationship with money and consumption, and to prove to myself that I can live with less — and actually enjoy it.

What I Stopped Buying

My rules for the year are simple:

• No clothing, accessories, or beauty products unless something essential runs out

• No home décor or impulse Amazon purchases

• No “just because” treats

• Yes to groceries, true necessities, and planned replacements

Even with clear rules, the first month tested me more than I expected.

The Wins 🎉

• My impulse spending dropped dramatically. I didn’t realize how often I clicked “add to cart” out of boredom or stress.

• I rediscovered what I already own. It’s amazing how many “new” things you find when you actually look through your closets and drawers.

• My savings grew. Seeing the numbers shift was incredibly motivating.

• I felt more grounded. Less shopping meant less noise — mentally and financially.

The Challenges

• The urge to “reward myself.” I didn’t expect how often I used buying something small as a mood boost.

• Social pressure. Saying no to outings that revolved around spending felt awkward at first.

• The boredom factor. Sometimes I just missed the little dopamine hit of browsing.

But each challenge taught me something valuable.

What Surprised Me Most

I thought I’d feel deprived. Instead, I felt… free. Free from the constant cycle of wanting, buying, and then wanting something else. Free from the mental clutter of “should I get this?” Free from the guilt of purchases I didn’t need.

What I’m Focusing on Next Month

• Building new habits to replace impulse shopping

• Planning no‑spend activities

• Tracking my emotional triggers

• Staying curious instead of judgmental when I slip up

February feels less intimidating now that I’ve made it through the first month. I’m excited to see how this challenge continues to shape me — not just financially, but mentally and emotionally.

If you’re doing a no‑buy challenge too, or thinking about starting one, I’d love to hear how it’s going for you. Month one is done… and I’m just getting started.

Kitchen chickens

🐔 A Chicken Sewing Video That Completely Stole My Heart

Okay, listen. I stumble across a lot of sewing videos… but every once in a while, one pops up that makes me stop mid‑scroll, grab my fabric stash, and say, “Well, guess I’m making a chicken today.”

This is that vidSew A Large Hen Basket - Free Pattern #freequiltpattern #scrappyfabrics #chicken #fatquarterseo.

Not only is the project ridiculously cute, but she shares a full‑size pattern — no squinting, no guessing, no “enlarge to 127%” nonsense. Just print, cut, sew, and boom: instant chicken joy.

And the way she explains everything? It feels like sewing with a friend who’s fun, calm, and totally okay with you pausing the video seventeen times to find your scissors. It’s charming. It’s cozy. It’s my new favorite YouTube sewing moment.

So if you’re in the mood to make something cheerful, slightly silly, and guaranteed to brighten your day, go watch it. Then make a chicken. Then make three more. Suddenly you’ve got a whole flock and zero regrets.

Memories

A Time for Memories

As I sort through the scraps of fabric for my next project, I realize they aren’t really scraps at all. They’re pieces of moments I’ve lived. A corner of a dress I once made for Zoe. A sliver of a shirt that belonged to Seth. Colors and textures that once wrapped themselves around ordinary days and made them feel like something worth remembering.

It’s funny how fabric holds memory better than we do. I pick up a floral print and suddenly I’m back in the kitchen, hemming a dress while Zoe twirled around impatiently, asking if it was ready yet. I touch a soft blue cotton and I can almost hear Seth laughing as he tried it on for the first time, pretending to model like he was on a runway.

These scraps carry the weight of those small, perfect moments — the ones that slip out of our minds but stay stitched into the things we make. Working with them now feels like opening a box of old photographs, except the memories are tactile. They’re warm. They’re alive.

Maybe that’s why this project feels different. I’m not just sewing. I’m piecing together a quiet archive of the life we’ve lived. Letting the past sit beside me for a while. Letting it remind me that even the simplest days had their own kind of beauty.

And maybe that’s what this time is for — not to dwell on what’s gone, but to honor it.

So it begins

 

🧵 Appliqué Prep: The Beautiful Mess Before the Magic

Every machine embroidery appliqué project starts with a vision — maybe a floral motif, a whimsical animal, or a bold geometric design. But before the needle hits the fabric, there’s one universal truth we all face:

Scrap chaos.

I snapped this photo while prepping for my latest appliqué adventure. If you’ve ever sorted through your stash looking for just the right shade of red or a tiny piece of green with the perfect texture, you know this scene well.

There’s interfacing, spray adhesive, a cutting mat, printed instructions, and a rainbow of fabric bits in bags and baskets. It’s organized chaos — and it’s oddly comforting. Because in this mess lies possibility.

Appliqué is all about the details. Tiny pieces. Precise placement. And the joy of finding that one scrap you forgot you had that turns out to be exactly what you needed.

I’m so glad I didn’t throw those small pieces away. They may look like clutter, but they’re the secret sauce of every appliqué project — the hidden gems that make the design come alive.

So yes, it’s messy. But it’s also magic.

Welcome to my valley

Tucked into the foothills of the majestic Cascade Mountains, our small town feels like a secret sanctuary. There’s a quiet here that settles into your bones — the kind of peace that only comes from being surrounded by nature’s grandeur. Mornings begin with mist rising off the water, and evenings end with skies like the one above, painted in fire and calm.

But don’t let the serenity fool you — this valley knows how to play. Summer brings endless opportunities to explore, and my personal favorite is boating. There’s nothing like gliding across the lake, sun on your face, mountains in the distance. And when winter rolls in, the town transforms into a snowy playground. Skiing down fresh powder with crisp air in your lungs? That’s magic.

Yes, I love it here. Not just for the beauty or the adventure — but for the way this place makes you feel like you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

In a world that moves a little too fast, this valley reminds me to slow down, breathe deeply, and appreciate the simple gifts right in front of me. Whether it’s the thrill of skimming across the water in summer or carving fresh tracks through winter snow, every season brings its own kind of joy.

But more than anything, it’s the feeling of belonging — of waking up each day knowing I’m exactly where I’m meant to be. This small town, nestled in the foothills of the Cascades, isn’t just where I live. It’s home. And I’m grateful for it every single day.

Update on the chicken Kitchen coming soon.

“Cluck Yes, I’m Making a Chicken Kitchen”

 Okay, so I have to tell you my new 2026 plan because it is peak me and you’re going to roll your eyes in the best way.

I’m doing a No‑Buy Year. Like… for real. No extra spending, no “but it was on sale,” none of that. I’m cutting myself off.

And since I apparently can’t just do things normally, I’ve decided I’m turning my kitchen into a full chicken‑themed kitchen using only the stuff I already have. No buying décor, no fabric shopping, nothing. Just me, my scrap bin, and whatever patterns I’ve hoarded over the years.

I’m basically making a chicken kitchen out of thin air.

I’ve already got a whole list going — chicken potholders, chicken tea towels, chicken bunting, little stuffed chickens to sit on the shelves… honestly, if it can have a chicken on it, I’m putting a chicken on it.

It’s going to be ridiculous and adorable and very “me,” and I’m weirdly excited about it. So yeah. 2026: No buying, all chickens.

Just wait. My kitchen is about to cluck.

🧵✨ Happy New Year from Nonie’s Paradise! ✨🧵

A fresh year means fresh fabric, fresh ideas, and endless possibilities for creativity.

In 2026, I’m dreaming of: 🎨 New projects that spark joy ✂️ Bold patterns and beautiful stitches 🪡 Crafting without fear, just fun 💛 A community that inspires and lifts each other up

Thank you for being part of this colorful little corner where imagination becomes handmade magic. Here’s to more sewing, more crafting, more laughter, and more moments that remind us why we love creating.

Let’s make 2026 AMAZING.

---

🧶 Well‑Loved Potholders (Scraps, Stories, and a Pattern to Share)

Some mornings, before the day really begins, I like to wander into the kitchen with a cup of coffee and take stock of the little things that make this space feel like home. The sunlight hits the counter just right, the kettle hums in the background, and hanging on their hook are my well‑loved potholders — softened, faded, and familiar in the best possible way.

They didn’t start out as anything special. Just scraps of fabric left over from bigger projects — the corner of a quilt, a bit of a tote bag, a print I loved too much to toss. But that’s the magic of scrap sewing, isn’t it? These tiny pieces, the ones we save “just in case,” somehow become the things we reach for every single day.

Over time, these potholders have taken on a life of their own. The edges have softened, the colors have mellowed, and they’ve developed that gentle, worn‑in look that only comes from years of being part of the daily rhythm. They’ve been there for the rushed weeknight dinners, the holiday baking marathons, the “let’s try this new recipe and hope for the best” moments. They’ve caught spills, cushioned hot dishes, and occasionally doubled as a coaster when I wasn’t paying attention.

And every time I pick one up, I’m reminded of the project it came from. A quilt sewn on a rainy weekend. A bag I made for a friend. A fabric I loved so much I used every last inch. It’s funny how something as simple as a potholder can hold so many tiny memories stitched into it.

There’s something comforting about sewing potholders. They’re small enough to finish in an afternoon, but still satisfying in that “I made something useful” way. They don’t ask for perfection. They don’t mind if the scraps don’t match perfectly. They’re the kind of project you can work on while your coffee cools beside you, letting your mind wander as the pieces come together.

And maybe that’s why they end up so well‑loved. They’re born from quiet moments — the kind where you’re not rushing, not overthinking, just enjoying the feel of fabric in your hands and the simple pleasure of making something.

Because I get asked about them so often, I finally decided to share the pattern I use. It’s nothing fancy — just a sturdy, scrap‑friendly design that holds up beautifully over time. The kind of pattern you’ll want to make again and again, especially once you see how quickly those leftover fabric bits turn into something useful

If you’d like to make your own stack — for your kitchen, for gifts, or just because it’s a lovely way to spend an afternoon — the pattern is available here: I have checked and the pattern is available on Etsy and Ebay.

As I look at the little stack of potholders in my kitchen — each one stitched from leftovers, softened by time, and carrying its own quiet story — I’m reminded how much joy there is in these simple, everyday makes. They don’t ask for perfection. They don’t require fancy materials. Just a few scraps, a bit of time, and the willingness to turn something small into something useful and loved.

If you’ve made potholders (or anything, really) from scraps that hold a bit of your own history, I’d love to hear about them. Maybe it was a fabric you couldn’t bear to throw away, or a project that surprised you by becoming a favorite. Feel free to share your scrap memories in the comments — it’s always such a treat to see how these little pieces find new life in someone else’s hands.

Here’s to the humble potholder, the comfort of handmade things, and the stories stitched into every scrap. I only shared my best looking ones.

✨ Stitching My Way Back

There’s something tender about returning to a space you once loved. It feels a bit like picking up a half‑finished project — the fabric still soft, the thread waiting patiently, the idea still warm in your hands. That’s exactly how it feels to be here again.

Life pulled me in other directions for a while, and my creative energy ended up tucked away like a project I meant to finish “soon.” But the desire to make things — to sew, to experiment, to let my hands and imagination wander — never really went away. It just needed a little quiet time to breathe.

Over the past few months, I found myself drawn back to the slow, grounding rhythm of sewing. The hum of the machine. The satisfaction of a crisp seam. The joy of choosing fabric that feels like a tiny promise. And somewhere in those moments, I realized how much I missed sharing the process — the wins, the mistakes, the discoveries, the delight of turning raw materials into something meaningful.

So I’m stitching my way back.

This space is shifting into a home for all things handmade:

• sewing projects I’m working on

• creative experiments

• lessons learned (sometimes the hard way)

• the beauty of slow, intentional making

I want this blog to feel like a cozy corner where creativity is encouraged, imperfections are welcome, and inspiration can show up in small, unexpected ways.

If you’ve been here before, thank you for your patience while I found my way back to the thread. If you’re new, welcome — I’m so glad you’re here. There’s plenty of room at the table, and I can’t wait to share what’s next.

Here’s to fresh starts, soft fabrics, and the simple joy of making something with your own two hands. One stitch at a time.

Time to be thankful

 

I know who took the picture, grandson Shane, I know he is hiking in the Cascade mountains, exactly where I don't know.

I love that he takes pictures as he hikes.  I love that he shares the pictures, even if he's not good about telling me where he took the picture.

Thank you for all your kind words and thank you for just visiting. I know the holidays are going to be hard, I have a great support system but still the pain will be mine.

I am stopping to be thankful for all the years we were able to spend together. For all the adventures we shared.  For our children and grandchildren.  I am thankful Steve knew Christ.  I am thankful he is no longer in pain and suffering.

I know the next few days and even months are going to be hard, the kids are going to be right here with me and we will do this together.  

Fields of Gold

 

Fields of Gold in Quincy picture taken by Mike

Fiend Ericka's daughter Frankie checking out the sunflowers. 

I know, again it's been a while since I have posted anything.  Right now, the doctor wants me to start some medication just to help me over the biggest part of the hump.  Not sure how I feel about that. 

I think I was dealing with it all okay but maybe I am not as okay as I think I am. I sure lost a lot of motivation.  But then doesn't everyone go through times when they just aren't motivated?? 

Well, I wanted to share with you, where a whole lot of sunflowers grow. We do live in a wonderful area and have much to be thankful for.