Marshmallow goodness

Before I show you a picture of a Peep wreath (and let me assure you, they are much more classy than they sound), let me explain how a great friend is someone who will sticky her fingers and get sugar all over her jeans while she crafts and drinks coffee with you at the dining table if only to help distract you from the chaos and emotion of the afternoon.


Last Thursday afternoon Holly was here, and she and I made these:


I'll never look at this wreath without thinking about the afternoon Holly and I spent making them.

She was here for a visit during her spring break. Earlier that morning we were at the Dollar Tree. I'm sure I was miles of aisles away following the boys when Holly remembered the idea. William had settled on a rubbery shark as his item of choice and Henry was walking back and forth through the toy aisles, completely unable to make up his mind. Who can really be sure if a Hulk squirt gun will be as much fun as a plain green one with two triggers? Which will squirt the most water? And why can't we use it on a rainy cold day anyway? Anyway, Holly and Rachel filled the shopping cart with boxes and boxes of marshmallow Peeps, several boxes of every color. Holly saw Peep wreaths on a friend's Facebook page and thought it would be fun to make some of our own. A good friend will fill a shopping cart with marshmallow bunnies (and chicks).
Later that afternoon was our home inspection. I didn't get to choose the date and if I had I would have gladly chosen a non-naptime duration and would have elected to be somewhere else. But the inspection was set for naptime on Thursday and alas we were home. During it all, while the boys rested in their rooms, Holly and I sat at the table with ripped open packages of Peeps, boxes of toothpicks and hot-glue guns fashioning these wreaths. During the three hours of inspecting, the inspector's wife typing away on her computer at her table in the living room. During the buyer's realtor knocking on the front door followed minutes later by the buyer and her father coming in. During the conversation between the inspector and the buyer in the kitchen and during the talk amongst them all in the living room overhearing the buyer share her excitement and some plans for the house.
If I weren't squishing those sticky, soft bunnies to that foam wreath and sipping coffee and chatting with Holly, I think I might have cried. Sticking bunnies helped pass that time and oh how I wanted it to pass.



Stirrings of excitement are starting to fill my soul; having a garden will be wonderful and there's even been talk of a hen. It's been fun thinking about fresh paint and using our decor in new and fresh ways. But I'm sad to leave. Sad when I think about the buyer making our house her home. I'm feeling quite nostalgic about all things 411 Leland. God is so gracious though. In my sadness He is reminding me through conversations with good friends and even an Easter craft project that the things that matter the most, those that have no monetary value and could never be sold, those things that are worth the most, will remain with me.