We’ve lived here for going on seven years (it is the absolute longest I have lived in one home. Ever.) It’s a beautiful home, but it’s a little snug for all of us, and there are some aspects that just don’t work (like the one little coat closet, great for 2 people, not so great for 7 and all our… Read More »Making it home – the living room
My experiment with some natural dyes have led me to want to experiment more. I found some information on using spent daffodil blooms for yellow, so we get to accomplish two things at once – remove the shriveled blossoms so the gardens look prettier, and collect the shriveled blossoms so I can try some dyeing experiments. Emma loved the idea,… Read More »Work to do
Last week I showed you what was blooming in our flower gardens. This week it seems that we made a leap from early spring to late spring. All the trees have leaves on them, creating a green hue to everything inside our little home. This week we have so many new flowers to enjoy. Come have a seat with me… Read More »In the gardens
Emma and Sophie helped me plant bulbs last fall. Emma had asked what we were planting and I told her tulips, and that they would bloom after the snow melted. So once the snow finally disappeared, Emma would ask, “When will our lips grow?” The other morning, just in time for Mother’s Day, she looked out the window and said,… Read More »Mom, Our Two Lips are Blooming!
Do you see anything wrong with this picture? I was washing up the breakfast dishes, and far outside my kitchen window I saw something that shouldn’t be. Some things were walking where they shouldn’t have been. (Abby, my faithful companion, loves having some work to do. Her presence will stop a goat in its tracks.) Now, in the spring, summer… Read More »wrong side of the fence
About 2 years ago (I think it was 2 years ago, it might have been 3), my husband had 4 days off from work. And we had recently had a bit of a leak in our dining room ceiling that was caused by a certain child who forgot that the shower curtain belongs inside the tub when taking a shower. … Read More »A Little Blue, and So Happy About It
Winter arrived late in Maine this year. Well, actually, we had a lot of snow early in November, and then it stalled, even warming a bit, and revealing the bare ground – such a strange sight in January. But now that there is a blanket of snow on the ground, and the temperatures have dropped to the much chillier, but… Read More »Inside Now that Winter Arrived
Hello! Thanks for visiting. And Happy New Year! We aren’t the New Year’s Resolution type (see here and here) . We take stock in what we do on a regular basis, and make adjustments and changes as needed. We dove into this past holiday season with our eyes wide open, knowing that we were going to be making changes once… Read More »Going off list
In true New England style, this post is mostly about the weather. An early snow came to our home over the weekend. Forecasters had predicted about 4-8″ for our area, but we ended up with far more – about 16″. Our Middles were gone for the weekend, having taken a trip to Maryland with their Bible Quizzing team, and we… Read More »Waking to Narnia
Under a spreading chestnut-tree The village smithy stands; The smith, a mighty man is he, With large and sinewy hands; And the muscles of his brawny arms Are strong as iron bands. His hair is crisp, and black, and long, His face is like the tan; His brow is wet with honest sweat, He earns whate’er he can, And looks the whole world in the face, For he owes not any man. Week in, week out, from morn till night, You can hear his bellows blow; You can hear him swing his heavy sledge, With measured beat and slow, Like a sexton ringing the village bell, When the evening sun is low. And children coming home from school Look in at the open door; They love to see the flaming forge, And hear the bellows roar, And catch the burning sparks that fly Like chaff from a threshing-floor. He goes on Sunday to the church, And sits among his boys; He hears the parson pray and preach, He hears his daughter’s voice, Singing in the village choir, And it makes his heart rejoice. It sounds to him like her mother’s voice, Singing in Paradise! He needs must think of her once more, How in the grave she lies; And with his hard, rough hand he wipes A tear out of his eyes. Toiling,–rejoicing,–sorrowing, Onward through life he goes; Each morning sees some task begin, Each evening sees it close Something attempted, something done, Has earned a night’s repose. Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, For the lesson thou hast taught! Thus at the flaming forge of life Our fortunes must be wrought; Thus on its sounding anvil shaped Each burning deed and thought. ~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Every time my husband fires up the forge,… Read More »The Village Blacksmith