La Leche League strives to help mothers worldwide to breastfeed through mother-to-mother support, encouragement, information, and education, and to promote a better understanding of breastfeeding as an important element in the healthy development of the baby and mother.
I'm giving up sugar and cream in my coffee for Lent, along with not watching or listening to the news. I don’t even enjoy the news and only listen to National Public Radio as it is, but even NPR has been too doom and gloom for me lately.
Flannel Wipes & Warmer
Cotton Prefolds
Velcro Covers (you'll find no diaper pins here).
Diaper Bin for dirty diapers.
Happy healthy baby, happy healthy earth.
Sowing seeds indoors. Suggested listening: Mozart, Piano Concerto No. 26 in D 
Another method I have used, but completely forgot about this year, is to fold newspaper into "cups". Put the soil and seeds in the paper cup and in the spring you can put the whole thing right in the ground, no plastic to get rid of.
Angelus mists the seeds.
This cute little set was a birthday gift from Auntie Luna, it's made in America from recycled milk jugs by Green Toys. Angelus loved it! I can't wait to see his face when little plants appear.
Knittinghelp.com) who offer free videos. It also helps to keep your craft in perspective instead of getting swamped with the big picture. Remember, knitting involves only TWO stitches. That's it! Everything else is a variation of those two. Literally take it slow, one stitch at a time. Don't worry about how it will all turn out, just focus on each little stitch as it's being worked. Before you know it, it finds a way to sort itself out. :D
"Sidda is a girl again in the hot heart of Louisiana, the bayou world of Catholic saints and voodoo queens. It is Labor Day, 1959, at Pecan Grove Plantation, on the day of her daddy's annual dove hunt. While the men sweat and shoot, Sidda's gorgeous mother, Vivi, and her gang of girlfriends, the Ya-Yas, play bourrée, a cut-throat Louisiana poker, inside the air-conditioned house. On the kitchen blackboard is scrawled: SMOKE, DRINK, NEVER THINK--borrowed from Billie Holiday. When the ladies take a break, they feed the Petites Ya-Yas (as Ya-Ya offspring are called) sickly sweet maraschino cherries from the fridge in the wet bar.
That night, after dove gumbo (tiny bird bones floating in Haviland china bowls), Sidda goes to bed. Hours later, she wakes with a gasp from a mean dream. She tiptoes to the side of her mother's bed, but she cannot awaken Vivi from her bourbon-soaked sleep.
She walks barefoot into the humid night, moonlight on her freckled shoulders. Near a huge, live oak tree on the edge of her father's cotton fields, Sidda looks up into the sky. In the crook of the crescent moon sits the Holy Lady, with strong muscles and a merciful heart.
She kicks her splendid legs like the moon is her swing and the sky, her front porch. She waves down at Sidda like she has just spotted an old buddy.
Sidda stands in the moonlight and lets the Blessed Mother love every hair on her six-year-old head. Tenderness flows down from the moon and up from the earth. For one fleeting, luminous moment, Sidda Walker knows there has never been a time when she has not been loved. "
Things I adore about my husband..
Domestic Goddess: Morticia Addams
"Would you like to lecture me
on the wickedness of my ways?"
~Inara Serra
