"People look east, the time is near of the crowning of the year. Make your home fair as you are able, trim the hearth and set the table. People look east and sing today, 'Love, the Guest, is on the way.'" --Author unknown (to me)
As soon as the days grow shorter, our family takes dinner by candle light. In the season of Advent, besides the wreath, we light our Klockspel! I'm hoping, during this Advent season, to post and share with you our little Christmas doings every other day.
When we got married and had children, my husband and I were determined to create a joyful home, especially during the holidays. And because He made it possible, my gratitude will always be to Love, the guest, Who came to stay.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Gracefully (as in growing old)
"Whatever a man's age, he can reduce it several years by putting a bright-colored flower in his buttonhole."
Mark Twain
Well, tomorrow I'm another year older. Looking back over the past year, there's so much to be grateful for. It hasn't been all smooth sailing, but I choose to count the blessings over the sorrows. It's sort of akin to the bright-colored flower in the buttonhole. Or maybe even better.
I need to count in Linda at Under the Gables. Unbeknowst to her, she participated in my birthday doings. Actually in my pre-birthday doings, since I'm known in my family for milking my birthday for all that it's worth. Linda talked on her blog about a Bucks County artist named Fern Coppedge.

I was so captured by the images that I Googled the painter and found out that many of her paintings are here:

Wahoooo! This museum is only an hour and a half from home, in Doylestown, PA. Happy birthday to me! And even better, they were having a special exhibit...

...featuring a collection of the works of Bucks County's finest painters. It was a treat to discover two painters who up to now were unknown to me: Fern Coppedge (1883-1951) and Daniel Garber (1880-1958). Both of these artists have styles that are completely different from one another--Coppedge rich in color; Garber rich in light. Their masterful creations left me swoony and inspired.
The program featured Garber's painting of his daughter, Tanis.
Across the street from the Michener museum is the Mercer Museum. I couldn't resist snapping a photo of the chimneys on the building. Are they cool or what?
Afterwards we took a little Saturday afternoon stroll around town. Oooh, looky here...
Black coffee, Bakery Blue Berry Butter cookie gelato. I love the letter 'B' - as in Birthday
This is the face of a happy camper. Yes, I am short.
Riding off into the sunset
Counting blessings
467 - Under the Gables blog - you should visit!
468 - Museum tickets
469 - My generous family
470 - Italian bakeries
471 - Sunsets and the gift of seeing another day
472 - La bella vita

Joining Ann today
Mark Twain
Well, tomorrow I'm another year older. Looking back over the past year, there's so much to be grateful for. It hasn't been all smooth sailing, but I choose to count the blessings over the sorrows. It's sort of akin to the bright-colored flower in the buttonhole. Or maybe even better.
I need to count in Linda at Under the Gables. Unbeknowst to her, she participated in my birthday doings. Actually in my pre-birthday doings, since I'm known in my family for milking my birthday for all that it's worth. Linda talked on her blog about a Bucks County artist named Fern Coppedge.

I was so captured by the images that I Googled the painter and found out that many of her paintings are here:

Wahoooo! This museum is only an hour and a half from home, in Doylestown, PA. Happy birthday to me! And even better, they were having a special exhibit...

...featuring a collection of the works of Bucks County's finest painters. It was a treat to discover two painters who up to now were unknown to me: Fern Coppedge (1883-1951) and Daniel Garber (1880-1958). Both of these artists have styles that are completely different from one another--Coppedge rich in color; Garber rich in light. Their masterful creations left me swoony and inspired.
The program featured Garber's painting of his daughter, Tanis.
Across the street from the Michener museum is the Mercer Museum. I couldn't resist snapping a photo of the chimneys on the building. Are they cool or what?
Afterwards we took a little Saturday afternoon stroll around town. Oooh, looky here...
Black coffee, Bakery Blue Berry Butter cookie gelato. I love the letter 'B' - as in Birthday
This is the face of a happy camper. Yes, I am short.
Riding off into the sunsetCounting blessings
467 - Under the Gables blog - you should visit!
468 - Museum tickets
469 - My generous family
470 - Italian bakeries
471 - Sunsets and the gift of seeing another day
472 - La bella vita
Joining Ann today
Friday, November 25, 2011
Keeping traditions
The house is quiet and tidy, so no distractions there. It seems like a perfect time to settle down with imagination, pen and ink, and lots of love for my grandy-babas far away. Now there are three--Izzy, Remy, and Tilly. I hope to continue this tradition for as long as I can. You can read about it here. I'll give you a peek when I'm finished.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Inside, Outside, Blessings mine
I'm a homebody. It's in my hobbity nature to be so. But then again, I am a hobbit of the Tookish sort, and do relish the occasional adventure. On autumn days when I was little, I used to like to stand with one foot in the door and one out on the front step, trying to decide. "In or out, in or out?" my grandmother would scold. "I'm not paying to heat the neighborhood!" Ha--funny memory. In or out, in or out...I guess I love them both.
Counting blessings
460 - bringing in some bittersweet
461 - off with the fairies
462 - the clean smell of soapy steam
463 - finding the sky in the creek
464 - the company of a good book
465 - loving the sound that crows make
466 - home fires
Oh, and happy Thanksgiving, everyone. xox

Joining Ann today
Counting blessings
460 - bringing in some bittersweet
461 - off with the fairies
462 - the clean smell of soapy steam
463 - finding the sky in the creek
464 - the company of a good book
465 - loving the sound that crows make
466 - home firesOh, and happy Thanksgiving, everyone. xox
Joining Ann today
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Last day- huzzah
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Upstairs, Downstairs - Kinda
This is the final week of my indentured servitude on the farm--till spring, that is. I had a wonderful time hearth cooking today. The children were lovely, along with their teachers. It's days like this that make me glad to be here. Just a few snaps of the house when I was free to wander. Yeah, farm livin' is the life for me. Or at least interpreting it.





18th century medicine cabinet. Something you might find in it is a purple concoction: Pick wild violets, boil them in a sugar syrup, and viola. Cough syrup.

Turning flax into linen is a skill I hope to learn in the future. This girl needs a change up from candles and cooking. Just sayin'.





18th century medicine cabinet. Something you might find in it is a purple concoction: Pick wild violets, boil them in a sugar syrup, and viola. Cough syrup.

Turning flax into linen is a skill I hope to learn in the future. This girl needs a change up from candles and cooking. Just sayin'.
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Out my door
"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out of your door," he used to say. "You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to.
J.R.R. Tolkien
Well, in this case it wasn't actually dangerous, unless you count the fact that I spent some of my pin money when I wasn't intending to. By the way, don't you just love the phrase 'pin money'? Very old fashioned. I like it. According to BING, pin money became an English phrase to describe extra cash set aside by wives to run the household at the turn of the twentieth century. I earn mine by performing housewifery 18th century style. But never mind that. Back to our adventure.

Do you know what I discovered? Ten minutes from my home, back in the hills, as they say around here, is a little mill town. One of the old mills built in the 1700's has been turned into an artist colony of sorts. And once a year, they open it up to the public.

Local artists have created studio spaces to work and display their pieces. I got to chatting with one of the painters. She informed me there was a room left for a studio if I was interested. No thanks, I said. I have a makey-room at home, and it's free. Yes, she replied, I have a studio at home as well, but I always find myself getting distracted by other things. Ain't it the truth? But don't tempt me, Frodo. For the time being, free is free, and I'll remain free.

But it's fun to dream. And speaking of dreaming, I had to keep telling myself that I was still in PA, right in my own backyard. This quaint borough has an Appalachian feel about it--isolated enough to make me feel like a gawking tourist. It had century-old churches nestled between small but charming mill houses, and a big old stone mansion at the top of one of the hills. Which got me to wondering - had it belonged to the owner of the mill back in the day? Hmmmmm...

So, we saw a lot of beautiful art. I asked permission to photograph this neat piece made of found objects. Gosh, I love stuff like that.


Airplanes made out of old door hinges? Some people are just SO clever!

And my pin money went to a nifty little pile of antique textile scraps. The patterns are yummy, and I can feel the creative juices flowing.

Last but not least, when I came home that evening, I found a package in the mail. Now I can join Miss Emily Dickinson and "put a trinket on" - thanks, Ethel.
The morns are meeker than they were,
The nuts are getting brown;
The berry’s cheek is plumper,
The rose is out of town.
The maple wears a gayer scarf,
The field a scarlet gown.
Lest I should be old-fashioned,
I’ll put a trinket on.
Emily Dickinson
Nature XXVII, Autumn.
J.R.R. Tolkien
Well, in this case it wasn't actually dangerous, unless you count the fact that I spent some of my pin money when I wasn't intending to. By the way, don't you just love the phrase 'pin money'? Very old fashioned. I like it. According to BING, pin money became an English phrase to describe extra cash set aside by wives to run the household at the turn of the twentieth century. I earn mine by performing housewifery 18th century style. But never mind that. Back to our adventure.

Do you know what I discovered? Ten minutes from my home, back in the hills, as they say around here, is a little mill town. One of the old mills built in the 1700's has been turned into an artist colony of sorts. And once a year, they open it up to the public.

Local artists have created studio spaces to work and display their pieces. I got to chatting with one of the painters. She informed me there was a room left for a studio if I was interested. No thanks, I said. I have a makey-room at home, and it's free. Yes, she replied, I have a studio at home as well, but I always find myself getting distracted by other things. Ain't it the truth? But don't tempt me, Frodo. For the time being, free is free, and I'll remain free.

But it's fun to dream. And speaking of dreaming, I had to keep telling myself that I was still in PA, right in my own backyard. This quaint borough has an Appalachian feel about it--isolated enough to make me feel like a gawking tourist. It had century-old churches nestled between small but charming mill houses, and a big old stone mansion at the top of one of the hills. Which got me to wondering - had it belonged to the owner of the mill back in the day? Hmmmmm...

So, we saw a lot of beautiful art. I asked permission to photograph this neat piece made of found objects. Gosh, I love stuff like that.


Airplanes made out of old door hinges? Some people are just SO clever!

And my pin money went to a nifty little pile of antique textile scraps. The patterns are yummy, and I can feel the creative juices flowing.

Last but not least, when I came home that evening, I found a package in the mail. Now I can join Miss Emily Dickinson and "put a trinket on" - thanks, Ethel.
The morns are meeker than they were,
The nuts are getting brown;
The berry’s cheek is plumper,
The rose is out of town.
The maple wears a gayer scarf,
The field a scarlet gown.
Lest I should be old-fashioned,
I’ll put a trinket on.
Emily Dickinson
Nature XXVII, Autumn.
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