This is a great book, small in stature, big in punch. It is the kind of book you return to, again and again, because it is a simple, right on reminder of what is important.

Thank you, Mr. Mueller, for writing the story of your life and your survival experience. For those of us who do not know, and can't imagine, your words give us a glimpse of an understanding of the horror and darkness of prejudice and racism during that remarkably atrocious time of history. However, your subsequent life and family legacy stand  together as a testimony to God's mercy and grace; you give all of us the hope that salvaging something good from something evil is possible.

May God bless you.  

LOVE (!!!) it! I wish that I had written it, and, of course, I wish I had made some of the fabulous projects in the book. What an encouragment for those of us who want to use art as a vehicle to explore and learn about God.

I read a piece of fiction! It may not mean much to anyone else, but it means a lot to me. I have really been struggling with fiction the last few years. It just hasn't been moving me. I have tried classics and I have tried contemporaries and nothing has been able to hold my attention. It is annoying because I love to read and I need good books badly. I love that reading fiction, particularly, holds no room for anything other than a completely honest response. And it is a private honesty. I like the freedom that brings.

Anyway, I picked up The Buffalo Soldier by Chris Bohjalian  because it was a "if all of Rochester read the same book" book. The last time I had success with a book was when I read Peace Like a River in the winter of 2002. That was when the events of my life took such a turn that I, literally, could not read for weeks. I mean, my brain did not process letters into words and looking at anything printed was an exercise in folly. It was a strange thing at a strange time. But, Peace Like a River came to me, regardless, as miracles will, and it brought me rest  and about a week of much needed reading ability.Then, even as hope returned, my reading ability slinked back into abnormalcy for the duration of that time.

I have often thought that I was the first person to read Peace Like a River in the whole world. I absolutely thought it was a God ordained book that Leif Enger had to write for me, personally. I knew that neither was true in a literal sense. I knew that others would be blessed by the book and that authors hope for exactly that. And, plus, I remember the little hand markered sign in Jay's Bookstall that, with an arrow, identified it as  one of "Jay's  picks," or something like that, confirming that Jay, himself, must have read it also. I still think of Peace as something that was a gift to me, even after I came home and saw that all of Rochester was reading it too.

So, when I saw that Rochester was reading The Buffalo Soldier, I thought I would give it a try. I guess Rochester must have been reading other books these last years and I haven't noticed, but on this particular recent Saturday, I was in Borders and the book seemed to sing out to me. I tried to ignore it at first, having grown cynical, but it would not let up and, eventually, I listened and grabbed it on the way out the door. And, despite my own pessimistic inclination, the book moved me through to the end and gave me some of the depth of character I require in fiction. And, by the end, I loved them and wanted more.

I feel restored.

Durwin Rice is the undisputed king of decoupage.  I am new to learning about decoupage (but not so new that I haven't heard of Durwin). Sadly, I have so many competing literary interests that I had never actually purchased his book. Then, one day, I saw it all forlorn at the Barnes and Noble Annex.  Now, I admit to feeling kind of bad for not buying it new. The book is that good.

I love nonfiction books, especially craft books, that are well written and fun. Who says instructions can't be engaging? Pictures are very important, but words should not be overlooked. One can still be concise and clear without being boring. In the homeschooling world, books like this are called living. As well they should be.

Durwin had me laughing out loud. Here is some of his insight:

Old decoupage was sealant happy.... Even for those eternally committed to protecting their decoupage creation, thirty coats is downright loony, twenty coats is overdoing it, and even ten coats will get you bumped from my dinner invitation list. You want to protect your work from scratches - not Hurricane Andrew, cosmic radiation, or the Ebola virus. 

This puzzle can be created with a minumum of 4 blocks and as many as .... well, how crazy do you want to get? The number 35 strikes me as a good cut off, but, hey, if you are all alone on a cold winter night and you just can't figure out why, there's no reason you can't use a couple hundred.

For example, it was the ability to enlarge an image of a pot of flowers to the exact specifications of my cabinets that helped me to create a lovely kitchen interior. The same ability allowed me to shrink my Aunt Flo's hips on an image I decoupaged to a plate, thereby pleasing Aunt Flo and securing my place in her will.

Suppose the surface is more than slightly irregular. Say it's more like the forehead of a hormone-ridden, chocolate eating teenager- bumpy, uneven, pitted, and splintery.... After all where it is written that a distressed surface is always bad? Okay, it's bad on a 15 year old, but on an object intended to spice up your living space, it can add an interesting texture and antique quality.

 Come on. That is good stuff. Go buy it new.

A very fun read as well. But, you would expect that from women knitters.

Thank you, Pamela. You sweet thing. I just love it.

This is a lovely book with lovely lessons. My favorite lines of the book are the lessons themselves. I thought about including them here, but then you might miss the joy of reading the book. I will say this, though, and I know it so deeply. Life is purposeful.

It made me a little sad. Eddie reminded me of my dad who used to romp the rails of an amusement park, hammer at his side, heart tucked safely away. My dad has had a sad, angry life. I wonder what he thinks his purpose is or if he thinks he has one. I wish it wasn't so hard for him. And my mom, too. I would love to make it better for them, if I could, but I don't think I have that power. Even if I could show them the reasons or point them to joy, they would have to choose to look and then listen. It seems unlikely.

Life is such a small time, even if you do make it to 70.