Sock it to me!

A very sweet boy asked for a sock monkey for Christmas, but Santa never delivered. I thought my son's desire for a sock monkey was just a passing fancy. Boy, was I wrong! Ever since Christmas he's asked about the sock monkey... How much are they? Where could he buy one? He has enough money in his piggy bank. Will Santa bring one next year?

He really, really wanted a sock monkey so I had to deliver.

The hubby had an old pair of Rockford Red Heeled socks that I had put away in my fabric stash many moons ago. So, I brought out the socks, searched for an online tutorial and got busy. And now, Mr. Sock Monkey joins the boy's ever growing mountain of stuffed toys. Welcome to the family, Mr. Sock Monkey!

BTW, I found the awesome sock monkey tutorial via Web Goddess with great step-by-step instructions including photos. SCORE!


Today I get to...

Today I get to sit down after a long work day and enjoy the sounds of a relaxed, well-fed and peaceful family. Om Shanti.


Happy New Year!

Something for everyone

I want the water to fill your glass the moment it sees your thirst.
I want the staircase to meet your footfalls.
I want the line to the freeway to move like breath.
I want the wind flattering your hairline, the rainshower a welcome refreshment.
I want the parking space to fit your car.
I want the birds on your back deck to warble in the exact way they did during your childhood.
I want the photographs of all your holiday dinners buzzing with a certain unnamable
I want the dry cleaners to understand your outrageous requests.
I want the man calling your house to survey your thoughts on phone companies to remember the evening is precious as silk.
I want your new jeans to not come undone in the wash.
I want snow to land on your eyelashes like it does in the movies, an etheric, slow-moving kiss.
I want a letter to arrive the moment you feel most unwelcome of your own company.
I want the scent of lemons in the air.
I want the power lines overshadowed by the view your neighborhood offers at twilight.
I want the downtown ice rink to keep your fantasies aloft.
I want the moon to articulate your most punishing silence.
I want the willow tree revived and teeming, the broken daisies resurrected and obstinate with brightness.
I want the labyrinth of what ifs narrowed to a single, poignant sentence.
I want the tulips to be wild as clover, as fog, as good intentions.
I want your heart to cut through its own brutality,for your body to see everything about you that’s beautiful.
I want love to come at you in thick pats of butter, in strands of spun sugar, heavy and light as cream.
I want it to bathe your skin until you are nothing but forgiveness, until your shadows have disappeared, until all of your perfect right angles have collapsed,
until you are a curve of a curve, and your hands slide forward and open
and are able, at last, to feel everything.

-Maya Stein

I just had to share this poem I found via 37 Days .

Have a beautiful New Year!