The cleaning of the gourds went fairly well except I now have 243 bleached towels. What does one do with 243 bleach speckled, hole-filled towels?
The gourds are cleaned out to be filled with rice. The musical instrument ones are glued shut.
Oh, how I love those hands.
For the rainsticks you need skewers . . .
Lots of skewers. Love those pink fingernails. I just can't seem to pull that off. Dishwater hands, you know.
For gourd purses you'll need . . .
fabric scraps . . .
Mod Podge (in a pretty little yellow bowl) . . .
and a clown. For good measure.
or an alien, either will do.
Soon these gourds will join this one . . .
Izzy's first gourd. The creme of the crop, the cat's meow. She painted this gourd over the summer at Camp Agape Children's Camp in Tennessee. My sister, P., is children's camp director there and she brims over with great ideas. They just tumble out of her brain as she uses the Word to teach children how Jesus loves them. She teaches young girls how to be princesses and young boys how to be knights. She teaches modesty and chilvary and love for every culture and race. She teaches that God is our Redeemer. She teaches Truth.
Trust me, SHE'S GOT CAMP.
Finished gourd rainstick.
Finished gourd purse.
She looks so proud. Pride can sometimes be a good thing. So, for now I'll let her bathe in her accomplishments. The smile on her face is worth packing away in the corner of my heart.
The mess in the kitchen - worth putting off until tomorrow.
Remember in the last gourd blog I asked you what shade God has given you lately? Don't forget to thank God for that shade, lest a little worm comes and devours it. And love your fellow man - more than yourself. It's a Jonah thing, it's a gourd vine thing, it's a lesson.
It's a God thing.
But this video is a private homeschooling mom thing.