7QTF: What-Have-You and What-Not (for Lack of a Better Title)

I'm sitting down to start one of these posts.

And I'm not even sure yet if I have 7 things to talk about.  But I'm going to wing it here, and see what happens.

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I just read talented author Katherine Grubb's 10 Minute Writer blog post for today, and it contained an interview with a woman who wrote a humorous novel about the homeschooling lifestyle.  The book in question is called The Homeschool Experiment, and it's by a busy homeschooling mom named Charity Hawkins.  I know a lot of Catholic mom bloggers and blog readers are also homeschoolers, so I thought you might be interested.  If you'd like to have a shot at winning a free copy of Hawkins' novel, head on over to 10 Minute Writer and leave a comment after the post.  (I can't believe I'm telling you about this; because the more people who comment, the less my chances of being the lucky winner.  So you're welcome.)



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Speaking of Katherine Grubb, if you haven't read her delightful debut novel Falling For Your Madness yet, you really should get your hands on a copy ASAP.  I did a review of Grubb's wonderful and well-written romantic comedy here, if you'd like to get an idea of what it's all about.  (You've probably all heard of this popular book by now, but I just thought I'd give it a shout-out.  I'm just thinking about you, you know.  Again, you're welcome.)

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It's true that you never know which random blog post might resonate with your readers.  Yesterday, I found a painting posted on another gal's blog, and I just loved it, so I was inspired to go on-line to try to find out who was responsible for it.  What I discovered was an 18th century Austrian artist named Ferdinand Georg Waldmuller, whose name I'd never heard before, and dozens and dozens of his other works.  And I just wanted to share what I'd found, so I posted some of my favorites by this gifted and prolific painter on my blog.  Apparently these lovely images of families and family life struck a chord with some readers, as they did with me.  If you'd like to see some works of art that display the beauty of family life--and are even, as my husband pointed out, very pro-life, because of the way they depict large, multi-generational families and the joy that is to be found in them--then head on over to scroll through the gallery I posted on here yesterday.

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Oh, I'm half-way there!
Oh, oh...livin' on a prayer...

You gotta love Bon Jovi, right?  Or at least that song...I mean, tell me that when you're in the Notre Dame stadium for a football game and the band starts playing "Livin' on a Prayer," you don't scream those lyrics at the top of your lungs, like the rock star wannabe you are!  If you say you don't, I won't believe you.  And I'm not sure we could be friends.

That Take was mostly filler, but now I'm over the hump.  4 down, only 3 to go!

 

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I found a great website in my cyber-travels recently.  I read too many blogs these days, so I can't remember exactly where the recommendation for this site came from.  But if you love Rosaries, you might want to stop by designmyrosary.com.

I have already hinted to my husband that if there was ever a birthday or a Mother's Day where he was stumped as far as a gift is concerned, he could always go on this site and personally design a Rosary for me.  I would love anything he picked, I assured him.  "But there's just one thing I want to choose," I started to say, because I wanted to make sure he picked a Miraculous Medal for the center medal; and he and the son who was there--let's call them "those two stinkers"--started to laugh at me.  (Do any of you ladies ever come home with a sweater from TJ Maxx a few weeks before Christmas and say to your husband, "This can be my present from you,"--or is it just me?)  Really, though, the rest is totally up to him.  Except no black beads, please.  Any other color but black.  Hmmm...and I think that's it.  Now go on there and design away, my patient husband! 

But truly, these one-of-a-kind Rosaries would make lovely gifts for anyone on your list.

 

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I often write about how tough it is--sniff! sniff!--to have your children go and grow up on you and leave the nest.  It's been an adjustment for me, to be sure.  But being an empty-nester can be fun, too, if you like spending time with your man.  And I do.  When he's not away doing his airline pilot thing, we spend pretty much every minute together during the day.  We grocery shop and run errands together.  We go to matinees sometimes.  We even arrange little lunch dates, where we'll fix our plates and eat on trays while we watch a taped episode of "Psych" or "Sherlock."  It's pretty sweet, really, and one of the perks of being an empty-nester. 

 

Besides, my kids may be mostly gone now, but their stuff is not.  We haven't had the heart to make them clear out all of their trunks and boxes filled with old clothes, books, boyhood toys, stamp and football card collections, scrapbooks and memorabilia, sports posters, etc. etc. etc., because most of them are still in a state of flux as far as figuring out where they'll settle.  Until they own homes and it looks like they're definitely putting down roots, my husband and I are willing to let our attic be their storage unit.

 

So I may not have all my boys about me.  But their stuff fills the attic and probably helps with the insulation up there.  So their stuff is keeping me warm at night!

Full disclosure: the stuff is not all theirs.  My husband and I have our fair share of stuff, too.  And it was starting to look like an episode of "Hoarders" up there, so I just finished an attic reorganization project.  I'll say this: plastic bins are my best friends.

I love attics--does that make me strange?  Especially attics in really old houses.  Ours is still too "new" to be very interesting...but someday it might be a fun place for our grandchildren to nose around.

 

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Well, it's time to get moving and check some items off my to-do list.  Today is a sewing day: I have to make new sashes for two flower girl dresses that are going to be worn by my twin granddaughters in three weeks, when son #4 gets married.  (Oh my gosh--that is happening in three weeks!)  The sashes were navy blue when the girls wore them for son #3's wedding on December 7; this time, they're going to be champagne-colored.  I'm sure I'll be posting photos of them sometime soon.

 

As long as I'm going to be sewing, I'll leave you with another darling painting by Waldmuller, one that shows what I'm going to look like today...well, that is, what I'd look like if I had four adorable children at my feet while I was working, which I will not have.  Or if I was wearing a turban-like contraption on my head, which I will not be.

 



Have a great weekend.  But before you do, head on over to see what's going on at Conversion Diary.

My New Favorite Artist

I've had my mind on art the past few days, and I've posted a couple of drawings I did back when I was a lovesick teenaged girl: one, a 1975 red ink sketch of my husband/then boyfriend, back when we were in high school; and the other, a 1976 charcoal sketch I did of a little girl in profile, while dreaming about what our future daughter might look like.  And I told you that people--faces--are, and always have been, my favorite subject when it comes to artwork.

Well, this morning I came across an image that I just love, love, love, while reading another Catholic mom blog.  The faces in it are simply heart-melting.  Have you ever seen this painting before?

Oh my, those faces!!  That sweet chubby baby!!  Isn't this a fabulous work of art?

I had to go on-line immediately, to try to find out the name of the artist responsible for this endearing painting.  What I unearthed was the title, "Young Peasant Woman with Three Children at the Window," by prolific Austrian artist Ferdinand Georg Waldmuller (1793-1865).

From the moment I saw it, this image spoke to me, it really did.  It made me completely happy to look at it--until I let this unwarranted thought niggle its way into my brain: If only I could paint like this...

But God gives us each our own unique talents, and He gives them in whatever degree He knows will be best for our immortal souls.  I do believe this, truly I do; so instead of being all self-deprecating about the amount of artistic talent I have, and comparing myself to artists such as the brilliantly gifted Waldmuller (because I've been reminded recenlty that "Comparison is the thief of joy," and I am taking that saying to heart as best I can), I want to thank God for giving me just enough ability to create some drawings and paintings and crafty things that, however unprofessional in quality they might be, give me a happy heart when I'm working on them. 

But oh the joy I get from looking at the works of certain well-known artists!  I've blogged about some of my favorites before: Besse Pease Gutmann, Jesse Willcox Smith, Norman Rockwell, Mary Cassatt.  Well, now I'm going to add Ferdinand Georg Waldmuller, an artist whose name I'd never heard before today, to that list!  Like Mary Cassatt, many of his paintings contain mothers with their offspring--but also fathers, grandfathers, and grandmothers.  These images of multi-generational families (many of them big families, with lots of pink-cheeked children and babies) doing everyday things together are just so precious, in my eyes.  So joy-inducing in their simple beauty.

I want to share this newfound favorite of mine with you, so here are some of the other works by Waldmuller that speak to me.

 

[Sigh...]  Aren't these Waldmuller paintings wonderful?  What a gift for faces he had.  But this last one just might be my favorite, because it depicts a grandmother and three little girls--so it of course reminds me of my darling trio of granddaughters and me, hanging out together, reading.

Of course, the little girls in this painting are a bit older than my sweetie pies.  (And I hope this grandmother looks a little older than I, too!)  But I still think of us when I look at it.  And I feel joy, joy, joy, joy, down in my heart!

God bless artists such as Waldmuller, who with their God-given talents make the world a much more beautiful place for the rest of us!

A Glimpse into the Future?

I want to thank some of my blogging friends (as well my loyal sister/follower), who left nice comments for me yesterday when I was being a little too angsty (there's a red squiggly line under that word, but I'm using it anway) about the whole blogging business.  Today I feel compelled to look only for JOY in the process--and I know where to find it, because whenever I talk about my husband, my granddaughters, or art, that's the primary emotion I feel.

Yesterday, I was going through a binder filled with sketches I'd done in my youth, looking for a good one of my high school boyfriend (who also happens to be my husband).  Some years ago, I found a treasure trove of my old drawings from middle school and high school-- including the 1975 red ink sketch of my main man that I added to yesterday's post--stored away in rotting boxes that had been removed from the attic of my childhood home decades earlier, when my parents downsized to a condo.  Some of these vintage not-exactly-masterpieces were done on nice art paper, some were done on lined loose leaf paper, and some were drawn hastily in the margins of notebooks.  I slipped these pieces of my past into plastic sheet protectors and put them in a big binder, where they would be saved for posterity (or future laughs, or whatever).

I'm so happy now that I kept all those precious works of art and archived them with a healthy dose of TLC!  Because I found one little charcoal drawing that just about blew my mind.

As I was returning that red ink sketch of my hubby to its allotted spot in the binder, another drawing caught my eye and I was taken aback.  It was of a little girl's face in profile...and it reminded me so much of my twin granddaughters!  Although the twins are just over 2-and-1/2 and the girl in the drawing is obviously supposed to be several years older than that, the resemblance is almost eerie.  (Or maybe it isn't; family, does this look like the twins--maybe Cutie Pie more than Bonny Babe--or is it just me?  Especially from the mouth up?)

When I was first dating my husband in 1973, at 15, the four youngest siblings in his family of eight (who were between the ages of 3 and 8 at the time) got wind of the fact that I liked to sketch faces, and when I visited at their house they used to steal me away from their big brother with requests of, "Draw me!  Draw me!"  I drew their sweet little mugs so often that my mother claimed every face I drew from then on, whether I meant it to be or not, was a "Pearl face."

Of course, like any teenager in love with the boy she just knew was "the ONE," I used to imagine what our future children would look like, and many of the drawings I did reflected that.  I can just see myself sitting down to sketch this little girl back in 1976, when I was a senior in high school, and thinking, If we have a daughter someday, she might look like this.

So I suppose this face was a "Pearl face," even though I don't believe any of my husband's younger sisters posed for it.  It was a glimpse into the future--but not into a future that included daughters for us.  It was a glimpse into a future with granddaughters (three so far), who most definitely have their Papa's Pearl blood flowing through their veins.  Granddaughters with the Pearl name...and Pearl faces.

Hmmm...Don't Know What to Call This One

Okay, here's the thing: I woke up this morning utterly uninspired to write.  (It happened yesterday morning, too; if you come here often, you might have noticed that.)  I've been making the mistake of comparing my little blog to all the other funny, smart, sassy, faith-filled, inspirational, informative (etc., etc.) Catholic mom blogs I follow: some of them that are so beautifully written, they read like actual literary masterpieces; some that fill me with a burning desire to improve my faith life drastically; and others that routinely make me belly laugh with abandon...And I've been doing that thing I do, which is wondering if this blog has a place amidst all that holiness, humor, and talent.

I'm not fishing for compliments, I'm really not--although I can see that I sound like I am.  (Please don't leave me any virtual pats on the back in the comment box; I was just venting, that's all.  And here I am, writing when I don't think I have anything noteworthy to say, so that's a step in the right direction!)  One should never compare himself to others, deep down I know this.  We are all unique souls equally beloved by God, and in our uniqueness, each of us has something to offer the world that no one else can offer (as hard as that is to believe sometimes).  And just as no two people are exactly alike, no two writers are exactly alike, and therefore no two blogs will ever be exactly the same.  And that's actually a good thing.

I read somewhere over the weekend that most regular blog readers take the weekend off--so Saturdays are a good day for bloggers to write about things no one really cares about, because no one is going to see those posts anyway.  This past Saturday, I wrote up and posted an homage to my #4 son, who was celebrating a birthday.  And obviously I really care about him!!  So I decided that for anyone who stopped by on Monday morning to see what was shaking here at String of Pearls, that post would make good reading (or re-reading, for you few loyal souls who check in here, rain or shine).  And with that adorable picture of my boy at four, he of the side-glancing smile and dimpled cheeks, I thought it would make good viewing, too.  So that got me off the hook yesterday, as far as coming up with something new to start the week.  And by golly, I'm not going to do any more posts about my family on the weekends if what they say is really true!  (Say it ain't so!)

Anyhoo, you nice readers you, I've been sitting here at my laptop, procrastinating, feeling so NOT like a writer, killing time by checking in on every sort of social media with which I've become acquainted recently, and I decided to stop by my book's Amazon page to see if there's been any action there lately.  And--yippee!--there was a new review posted.  For ages, the number has been holding at 13, but here's what reviewer #14 had to say about Finding Grace:

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Reviewed Finding Grace (Women's Inspirational Christian Fiction) ...

Settle in with a nice, long novel with a great story line!

January 28, 2014

 5.0 out of 5 stars

Finding Grace is a well-told coming-of-age story about a young Catholic girl whose faith surrounds her at home, at school and among friends. It is also an introduction to the lives of quite a few saints--both well-known and more obscure--as it drives home the message that everyone is called to be a saint. The author does a good job describing the interior struggles of an adolescent girl who wants to be a saint AND to have a family AND to fall in love.
 

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Reading that positive review was just the boost I needed to get excited about writing again.  I'm going to come back here tomorrow morning and just wow you with a post that'll knock your socks off.  Well, maybe not.  But at least I'm going to try.

In the meantime, if you know any teenaged girls (or women who are girls at heart) who like to read about young love, and about young heartthrobs who look something like the subject of this very amateur sketch (in red ink--huh?), which was rendered back in 1975 by a lovesick teenaged girl...

I think what reviewer #14 is trying to say is you should tell them about Finding Grace.

See you tomorrow.  I will, I mean it.

Happy 26th Birthday to Son #4

My fourth son is turning 26 today.  This is the third birthday post I've written in his honor since beginning this blog in the spring of 2011.  The first one appeared on this date in 2012, if you'd like to read that.  It pretty much tells you all you need to know about this sweet boy of mine--including my favorite story about the way he reacted when he first made his entrance into the world, all eleven-ish pounds of him, and met his mommy for the first time face-to-face.

Son #4--as I so have so imaginatively named him for the purposes of this blog--is incredibly funny (and I don't even quite know how to describe his keen and offbeat sense of humor), but he also has a very serious side.  He's a handsome, intelligent, talented, faith-filled, and successful young man, but he's also extremely humble and can even be a little too self-deprecating.  I would say his most endearing trait is that he remains a great big child at heart.  In a good way.

Here's how my boy looked at four.

Wasn't he a dapper little lad.?  Quite the little heartthrob, if you ask me.  (But if you think he went around all the time with his hair neatly slicked back like it is in this photo, you are sadly mistaken.)

Now here he is as he looks today, happy and in love, with his beautiful fiancée--who will be his bride in less than a month!--at his side.

I adore this boy.  But today I'm feeling a little betrayed by him...because how could he go and get all grown up like that, without even consulting me?!  This is something all five of my sons have done, and--sheesh!!--don't I get a say in it?

I'm just kidding, though.  All I have to do is look at this recent engagement shoot photo of son #4 with his soon-to-be better half, and I am reminded of how very, very blessed I am.  God gave me five sons to raise and to love; and now I've lived long enough to have the privilege of seeing three of them (so far!) find the women who will love them the way I love their father.

Happy Birthday, JRP!

7QTF: Seven Posts from the Old Days

I'm joining Sheenazing blogger Jen Fulwiler (et. al.) for her awesome Friday link-up extravaganza, but I'm not writing anything new for this post.  I do love to write; as Jen explained in her 7QTF post today, some of us have "the charism of writing (a charism being a gift from God that fills you with energy when you use it)", and I like to think I have this.  Well I must have it, I guess, because since I started String of Pearls back in March of 2011, I've published over 900 posts.  But if 10 people stopped by to read any one of my posts back in the old days, it was a good day.  And all you could hear in my comment box was the sound of crickets.  But I didn't really care--I knew very little about the wider world of blogging back then, and I was doing my little daily writing exercises because...well, because I just had to.  These days, I get a lot more "hits" and comments each day than I ever could have dreamed of when I was a blissfully ignorant newbie blogger.  So I suppose I've come a long way, relatively speaking.

(My blog profile pic, which I haven't changed since I started this blog.  And it was old then--taken in 2007.
But it's my favorite picture of me with my favorite sons.)

As I said, I'm not writing anything new today.  Instead, I'm going to re-post some oldies but (I hope) goodies.  I was still working to find my blogging "voice" when I wrote these, but here are some of my favorite posts from 2011.

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This one is from 6/17/11.  The first time around, it got 12 page views and zero comments, but it's dear to me anyway.  I give you "Random Thoughts about Adorable Things."

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And here's a post that came right after that one, on 6/18/11.  It also got 12 page views (most likely the same 12 relatives!) and zero comments, but I think it's a good one because it's about my favorite person in the world.  It's short and sweet, and it's called "An Early Happy Birthday to My Husband."

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As a mother to all sons, I have been surrounded by lots of testosterone for a long, long time (until recent years, when two daughters-in-law and three granddaughters came along and injected the Pearl family which a much-needed shot of sugar-and-spice-and-everything-nice).  The differences between the sexes has always fascinated me.  Ditto for anything old, antique, or vintage--especially old letters.  So this post from 8/13/11 (20 whole page views--a big day!--and zero comments) remains a favorite of mine: "Men Are from Mars, Women Like to Talk."

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This one is dated 10/13/11; 8 page views, zero comments.  When I wrote it, I was still adjusting to being an empty-nester for the first time, because the youngest of my five sons had left a few months prior to begin his freshman year in college.  I was really "Missing My Baby Boy."

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So, being the mother of all sons, I have learned a few things about the hairier sex.  On 10/15/11, I wrote this post on the topic, called "Boys Will Be Boys."  The first time around, it was read by 9, commented upon by zero.  But I like it because it's about my second oldest son, a wonderful high school teacher and football coach.

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One thing I love to talk about on this blog is my three beloved granddaughters.  This post from 10/17/11 was only seen by 5 readers when I first posted it, and guess how many comments it received?  But if you want to see undeniable "Proof of Life" in the womb, you don't want to miss this one about the twins.

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I couldn't decide which one of two favorite posts to use for Take #7; but then I decided to use both.  They're each short enough that they could be counted as half a post.  The first, originally published on 10/19/11, completely tickled my middle son.  He was one of the 12 who read it that day, and although my comment box was empty, he e-mailed me to give me a big thumb's up.  It's called "You Can't Judge a Book by Its Cover."

And as if that wasn't enough humor for you, check out my ridiculously outdated glasses in this post from 11/19/11, titled "Babies and Bad Fashion."  It got 10 hits back then (and you guessed it, zero comments)--now you can be the 11th person to read it!  It'll only take you a minute.

So that's what String of Pearls looked like back in 2011.  Three years later, I hope this blog isn't getting too tired-out and repetitive.  I mean, maybe this is the year I'll give it a new look; most of the blogs I read have updated their page designs since I've started following them.  But I have the same look going on that I did at the beginning (with a few do-dads and gizmos added onto the right side of the page).  Because I'm set in my ways and I resist change with every fiber of my being.  But we old folks can be like that!

Now off to Jen's with you, for offerings that were freshly written this very day for your reading pleasure.

What True Love Looks Like

With Valentine's Day on the horizon and its arrival awaited with starry-eyed anticipation, there are many young lovers out there who think that this is what true love looks like.

I mean, that's a very nice image and all.  And although this doesn't really look like us, because we're not big wine-drinkers, I do love going out with my husband and having a nice romantic dinner for two.  I loved it even more when we were raising little boys and being alone for ten minutes was a rarity.  But once in a while, I still enjoy sitting across the table from the love of my life and letting someone else cook and do the dishes for us.

But hand-holding over glasses of wine?  That's not what true love looks like.

Perhaps some think it looks like this.

But I've got to tell you, in the 33 years I've been married, my husband and I have never dreamily smelled a rose together.  And if I ever asked my husband to pose with me for such a ridiculous picture, he would refuse.  (And I would know that I'd married me a real man!  Because no matter how many times a man presents his sweetheart with a dozen long-stemmed roses, knowing how pleased she'll be by the gesture, he just doesn't get as excited about flowers as the guy in this photo.)

Now if you substitute the rose for a baby, then definitely, my husband and I have found ourselves striking poses very similar to this one over the years.  And if I had a picture of the two of us sniffing one of our boys' (or now one of our granddaughters') sweet little heads to show you, then that would be what true love looks like.

Except for in the movies, true love really doesn't look like this.

But don't get me wrong--I'll take the chocolates.  Any day, any time--it doesn't have to be Valentine's Day or Mother's Day or any special day.

True love doesn't look like this, either--although sparkly things are very nice to get.

And Valentine's cards are nice to get, too, but true love doesn't even look like this.





(But AWWWWWW, we're getting closer now!)

The other day, as I was scrolling down my Facebook news feed, I saw a picture that illustrates perfectly what true love looks like.  But before I show it to you, let me give you the backstory.

My husband's younger brother is an airline pilot (who--like my husband--can be gone for days at a time), and he and my sister-in-law live in CT and have been married for 30 years.  She absolutely hates winter, hates everything about it--hates the snow, hates the cold, hates the shoveling and the icy roads.  In spite of (or perhaps because of) the fact that she was raised in CT and is no stranger to the cruelty of Northeastern winters, she is always happiest when it's hot out.  Summer is her wheel house.  During heat waves, when it's in the 90's with 150% humidity and all of us are dying, she says with delight, "I love this!"  If she never had to don a winter coat again in her life, I think she'd be the happiest woman on earth.  She would wear a skort and a sleeveless shirt every single day, if only she could.

Well, the other day, CT got hit with a doozy of a snowstorm, and my brother-in-law (who takes care of the shoveling when he's home) was away on a trip, but due back that night.  So my sister-in-law bundled up and spent the day shoveling the driveway, so that he would be able to get his car in the garage when he got home.  But she did even more than that: knowing that he always keeps the patio out back shoveled off as well, she took care of that for him while she was at it.

Along with the posted picture, here's what her Facebook status said:  TahhhDahhhh!  Done and Done. And for those of you wondering... "Why the patio?" It's because my man always shovels the patio and when he gets home tonight, I don't want him to go out and do it... (I'm such a good wife...haha)

There's no "ha ha" about it--she is a good wife.  Because that's what true love is all about: it's about each person sacrificing himself for the other, and doing so with joy and without complaint.  It's about getting out there bundled up in a parka, when the thing you hate most in the world is being out in the cold, and shoveling the patio for your man--just so that when he gets home tired out from a trip, he doesn't have to do it himself.

So to me, this picture is what true love looks like.

Don't you agree?