Welcome to the KingZoo and Funny Farm, where we learn to live, laugh, and love together. Here you'll find snippets of life in our zoo, parenting tips we've learned along the way, reflections on shining God's light in this world, passions in the realm of orphan care, and our journey as parents of a visually impaired child with sensory processing disorder. Have fun!

Friday, February 24, 2017


The extended King clan, like any family, has some stories that get told over and over. There are stories about growing up in a funeral home and stories about the farm. There are stories bout the refugee family from Vietnam that they sponsored. There are also stories about "the house".

The Good Doctor's dad acquired "the house", which just happened to be located next to the funeral home, in some form of funeral payment (small town stuff).  Upon entering the home, it was apparent that this was not going to be some quick flip or fixer-upper. The house had been lived in by a hoarder.  The worst room was an upstairs bedroom complete with a pile of dirty disposable diapers piled in the center. But every room was covered with piles of boxes and bags with only a single pathway from door to door. And every bag and box had to be looked through carefully. What appeared to be a box of newspaper, would surprise you with a layer of Avon or knick-knacks sandwiched in-between. There was a dumpster in front of the house (emptied multiple times before the project was finished) and another area for boxes of items for a future garage sale. The garage was the same but was also the location of the greatest find - tucked inside a purse inside something else was a ring box with a diamond ring inside. It became a project in which everyone jumped into. The Good Doctor and I were in college but we spent more than one weekend helping to go through "the house".

That's a true hoarder but I suspect most of us have hoarding tendencies in at least one area. I'll admit that for me, it's books and fabric. I'm getting better at the books and have parted with many of them but still own my fair share. But the fabric... I have old jeans (they make great quilts and purses and bibs and I have a pattern for Christmas stockings that I'm going to make someday), old shirts (which also make great quilts and bibs), and any time someone says, "I found a box of fabric in my mother's attic, do you want it?"... The answer is always yes. So many projects, so little time. But as long as there are weddings and births and funerals (yes, even funerals, as some families like to have a remembrance of their loved one in the creation of a blanket or quilt made from that person's jeans or shirts), I will have a place for all of that fabric.
Like a picnic blanket/throw made from our old jeans...
(we like to give them to friends and say they now share our "genes")

...or another from mens' shirts...

...or the most recent blanket made mostly from the ends of fabric 
saved from extinction at a drapery shop...
fabric with birds for two lovebirds who enjoy nature hikes.

Yes, it may look like hoarding but there's always a future plan for any of the fabric on my shelf. And someday, the house will (might?) be emptier and less busy and I'll have time for more complicated projects again. Until then...

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