Close!

We get the keys tomorrow. Tomorrow! 

I am still.packing. But glory! This move has given me a reason to let go of so many things I was holding onto. Things. Just...stuff. I took pictures of some things, hurried and drove some things to Salvation Army before I could change my mind, and sold other things. An acquaintance messaged me today on Facebook and asked if I was okay. "I saw you selling some signs you used at your wedding," she said. "Is everything okay?" 

Yes. Everything is okay. Just wanting to start clean and necessary in this new, old place. 

Have you seen Texas in the news? It's bad, y'all. Please pray. I moved for hours in the rain last weekend and was so frustrated by the end of it. Everything got wet. Quilts I had washed and carefully dried. Linens I had packed with dryer sheets to keep them fresh. As frustrated as I was, I couldn't let myself dwell because there are still families missing and presumed dead from the flood. Still. And there's rain every day in the 10 day forecast. We appreciate your prayers more than you know. 

Since we'll be moving in the rest of the week/weekend and the Internet doesn't get turned on until Monday, my posts may be short or sporadic. Hang in with me! There's so much more to come.... -Brin

Loading Up Weekend...

...is here! I've been too busy to turn around except for getting boxes closer to the front door... and getting my hair under the water in the shower.

While I've sold and donated so.much.stuff this move, the crap I keep just seems to come at me in waves. Books are packed for the new library room. China and fancy dishes are packed for the built-in hutch in the dining room. Pictures are packed for those alcoves in the front room. Everything else is piled and (somewhat) organized all over the house, waiting for me to approach with box and tape.

Agh. I'm not moving again unless they light the place on fire or come to haul us Christians off to jail. *wink*

Hope you have a blessed Memorial Day weekend. See you on the other side! -Brin

House Secrets and Purple Potatoes

My, but the kitchen ignited a fire storm.

I have read every comment and email. It's fun to hear from you- who you are, what you've remodeled (or are living with in hopes of remodeling), what you think about this little kitchen. I think the best advice has been to simply live in the house before changing her. Let the house tell you what it needs, someone said.

Agreed. Maybe it sounds crazy, but I think walls do talk. Have you heard of people who buy old houses and live there and one day decide: I think a doorway should go there, instead of here. And low and behold, the workers come in and discover that the doorway used to be there, after all, and the "new" remodel is actually an uncovering of what was meant for the house in the beginning. Houses are strange that way: if you listen closely, you'll sometimes overhear their secrets.

So we agree: live in the place and get a feel for what's going on. That's the plan. But please, continue voting in the poll if you haven't already. I'm wondering if, in the end, the Yeses will have it.

In the meantime, I'm waist-deep in moving boxes. I spent some time yesterday taking up the gravel fire pit we built in the place we're in now. 

Remember my How I'm Growing Months of Potatoes for $3.99? Yeah. Well, I have my months of potatoes now, and I'm trying to get them out of the ground before next weekend when we have to surrender the keys here. The purple potatoes have been especially fun to dig and discover. Have you ever eaten a purple potato? Delicious! Tonight's dinner will feature roasted purple potatoes with thyme and butter. I'll share the recipe and some photos sometime, promise.

Hope your week is going well. And please, keep those comments and emails coming! -Brin

Simple Like a Strawberry

The sun leaked into my room early this morning and I hit the ground running. Our moving truck is coming Saturday and I have so.much.to.do. As in, freeze-the-ripe-strawberries-whole-and-deal-with-them-later much to do. That's how much.

So instead of writing a devotion here this week, I want to introduce you to a gal I wholeheartedly admire: Abbie Jean. Abbie writes a blog called Simple Like a Strawberry, and it's one of the handful of blogs I read regularly.

Go see her and tell her hello for me, would you? I have to get back to it. See you here tomorrow! -Brin

Polls and Pianos

I was genuinely surprised by the comments and emails I got on yesterday's kitchen post. Keep those cabinets! many of you said. Tear them out and update! others argued. So I decided to put it to a vote. The poll is in the sidebar now: if this were your home, would you  keep the cabinets and existing kitchen layout, or would you renovate? The survey is open through the end of the month, so get your vote in soon!

Lots of folks remarked about a window above the kitchen sink. Not happening. There are two rooms beyond that wall, so a window there isn't an option. Any windows will have to be installed on the south wall. The sink is facing east. It's so dark in that little kitchen now though, isn't it? My tentative plan was to relocate the sink to the south wall where there's currently a door leading to the sun room. That means, of course, that the original cabinets are goners. Ack. So much to decide, and soon!

We're days away from moving in and actually getting a real feel for the place. Today we moved my piano into the house. I wanted, so badly, to sit and play and play and play. Didn't happen, but it will soon! I'm itching to play the piano with the windows open. And bake bread in the (new) oven. And pick peaches from the peach tree. And hang sheets outside to dry. Today it was gray and raining and everything was so green. Sitting on that porch was the most solace I've had in a long time.

Soon.

By the way, I wanted to tell you that we already have honey in the bee hive! Update on that next week. Hope you have a wonderful weekend. Vote in the poll, and I'll see you here Monday! -Brin

Oh HECK no! Or, The 'Before' Kitchen

Oh, my dear friends. Pull up a chair. But...not too close. You don't want to pull up too close. Trust me.

I'm about to show you some current, (read: before) pictures of the kitchen in the new house. 

Seriously, you might want to back up a little farther.

This kitchen is bad. 

Here come the before shots. Are you guys sure about this? Brace yourselves.

The kitchen, as it is currently:

Are you still with me? Are you okay?

Omgosh, y'all. We have a LOT of work to do. "A metric ton", as a visitor put it.

But let's focus first on the positives, shall we?

1. The ceilings are 12 feet tall. 
2. There are hardwood floors under that hideous, filthy and chipped linoleum. (Can we save the hardwoods, though? That's the question. Won't know until we rip up the linoleum.) 
3. The kitchen opens up to a south-facing, antique-glassed sunroom. Which is scary right now. But that just means we can bust out that wall to the right of these cabinets and extend the kitchen. Because right now it is pretty small for this big house. (Sorry. Supposed to be focusing on the positive.)
4. ...
5. It has a good roof over it?
6. Anything can be demo'd.

There. We're on top of this already.

So. First order of business in this house is this terrifying monster of a beast kitchen. I have a new layout in mind, but I'm refusing to commit to anything before we move in.

Well. I did start looking for new appliances that would fit the feel of the house and be stylish, well performing partners in this former bakery owner/certified food manager/cooks-dinner-almost-every-night girl's kitchen. And I settled on GE Artistry appliances. In white. It wasn't even a fair fight. The reviews on these beauties are amazing and they are surprisingly affordable. Win. They'll be delivered the week after we move in, which gives us enough time to introduce a sledge hammer to the kitchen and call a plumber.

I seriously hope you folks really were ready for this, because it's about to be on! -Brin

(Have ideas for the new kitchen? Comment below and link away! I'll consider anything at this point....)

Finishings and Startings

We closed on the house. It seemed surreal. There were seven of us around that conference table- talking frantically, shuffling papers back and forth, and checking and double checking lines before we signed. Someone had placed a bowl of Godiva strawberry chocolate squares in the middle of the table before our meeting and there wasn't a single one left when we all stood up. 

Instead of exchanging keys at the end, we exchanged phone numbers. And finally, we got a chance to talk to the seller without the pretense of being yard sale shoppers. In fact, we walked through the house with her and listened to her stories. She explained the attic's two wooden floors, saying that the home had been a two story and, just like Freeman House, had been converted to a one story years ago. She showed me a pipe that needs to be fixed. She unboxed the dining room's original crystal chandelier that someone had taken down long ago. I left so, so eager to move in and tackle all the things she couldn't. It's my house now, after all.

Until then, I'm being an incredible organizer. I am examining every item we own. I'm selling and donating some things. I'm re-framing and re-upholstering and re-staining other things. Today I'm washing every blanket, comforter, and sheet I have and boxing them all. Then, and only then, will I attempt to organize and pack my yarn stash. Omgosh. The yarn stash. 

Good thing there's a wooden floored attic at the new house.

Speaking of yarn, I finished the pillow I was working on a few weeks back. A quick seed stitch and it was done. I couldn't get a good picture with all the dark/stormy weather we've been having- and it looks rather ridiculous here- but you get the idea. I ended up giving it to my Mom on Sunday. She got new furniture and it seemed to fit her house.

So I'm here, washing, packing, selling, and dreaming. We're just two weeks away from the insanity of a new restoration. This week, I'll let you in on the name and the history of the house. I'll show you a few shots inside. Meet me back here?

Let the fun begin! -Brin

A Call to the Hope Bringers

There were storms the past two nights in Texas. Howling, angry storms. They severed limbs from trees and houses from foundations. Sirens sounded and we huddled in halls and bathtubs, listening to the wind and hail and sideways rain. And praying. Always praying.

The wind took all but those few roses above off my rose bushes- roses I intended to make and take to mothers in my life. I was sad as I clipped through the rose wreckage yesterday and stepped over soggy ground littered with thousands of pastel petals. Oh well. There were a few right up against the house that made it. I cut those and put them in a vase with other flowering things and herbs from my garden and drove them to my Mom's. 

But what are a few roses when many lost everything over the weekend? My heart goes out to the people of Van. Homes and schools, destroyed. Bodies, battered and bruised. Hearts, never the same again.

I think it's so important, today and in the coming days, that we don't close down. Give up. Lose heart. That we walk among the shaken things and clip what roses remain and give them to each other. Give them away. Give them all away. Now, unlike ever in our lifetimes, we need people to emerge from storms and riots and darkness and be givers of Light and Hope. 

The Bible talks about days when things will get very dark. When trouble will touch every corner of the planet. When people will have to choose sides and unimaginable things will happen. But it's also clear that during this time, a people will arise: confident, compassionate, and full of faith. I have a friend who works with CRI and he calls these people the Hope Bringers. I love that. Hope Bringers.

Praying that today you feel strengthened in your heart and glimpse hope in the midst of trouble. -Brin

Monday Moment is a little devotional to help kick start your week. See you again next Monday!

Sweetness

But don't forget, in the meantime, 

that this is the season for strawberries. Yes.

-Clarice Lispector

The first strawberries of the season. They stained my hands with their sweetness.

We have a walk through of the house today at noon, and then a busy weekend ahead. I wanted to stop in, though, and wish you a happy Mother's Day. Even if you're a mother-in-waiting or a mother at heart. Have a sweet Sunday. We'll talk next week. Oh, will we ever talk! -Brin

House Hours, Planting Plants... and Pesto

I'm now counting the hours until we close on the house. Hours, instead of weeks and days. It's all so exciting I could hardly sleep last night.

All this moving talk got me thinking: I can finally, actually, really plant my plants soon. As in, free their root-bound selves from their terracotta cages and settle them into their permanent homes... the blueberries, strawberries, flowers and herbs. It's one of the things I'm looking forward to most, I think. Finally, the plants I've been lugging from place to place since Freeman House will have a forever home.

Including the basil. I love basil. I've been growing the same sweet basil from seed from my Freeman House crop every year since I left. It's acclimated now to the scorching, humid area that is northeast Texas, and it does well in pots. But how much better will it be to have as much as I want! Especially for pesto. 

Do you eat pesto? I make it from my own basil and love it spread between thick bread on griddle sandwiches and stirred into salted pasta hot from the pot. My recipe is almost exactly like this one. I'll make huge batches and freeze it in my Pampered Chef herb freezing trays and it's easy and there when I want it. If you haven't ever made your own pesto, I'd encourage you to give it a go this summer!

Okay. Crazy brain. Went from house hours to plants to basil recipes in a few sentences. Please forgive the nervous excitement. We close on the house in hours, y'all. Hours!! -Brin

Home Soon

Home isn't where you're from, 

it's where you find light when all grows dark.

-Pierce Brown, Golden Son

I got these pictures from the home appraiser yesterday, probably because we close Thursday.

We close Thursday. Thursday, I will have a house. A place of light while all grows dark.

It was a long wait, but now it's over. This week, I will have a new home!

There's so much to be done. Just look at the place! Over the weekend, I showed up to the seller's yard sale incognito so we could look the place over again. Our realtors have been adamant about keeping buyer and seller separate, so we listened to them talk about selling the place and moving and the monster king size bed in the master and nodded and murmured sympathetic things. We bought a table saw that was left from the longtime owner. I bought some garden tools. Then we got back in the car, more excited than ever.

The last minute curve ball (and I'm told there always is one) is that the owner requested an additional three weeks after closing to vacate the property. We wanted to say no but couldn't, really. The elderly ladies who are moving are stressed enough as it is, and we were able to negotiate a better price in exchange for allowing them to stay past closing. So we get the keys and access to the house Thursday, but work can't begin until they leave. Or May 31. Whichever comes first.

It's okay. I have so much to do before then, and I'm used to the idea now. Week after Memorial Day. I can wait.

I can't believe the home adventure begins again so soon. I can't wait to take you inside! -Brin

Glorious Light

Now may the Lord of peace himself give you peace 

at all times and in every way. 

The Lord be with all of you.

-2 Thessalonians 3:16

As the days grow darker, I pray that glorious Light will break through and shine on each of you. I pray light, and life, and rest for you.

That is the prayer in my heart today.

Monday Moment is a little devotional to help kick start your week. See you again next Monday!

Paradoxes, Part Two

Our ancestors are totally essential to our every waking moment,

although most of us don't even have the faintest idea about

their lives, their trials, their hardships or challenges.

-Annie Lennox 
 

There's a mystery in my ancestry. A closely-guarded secret that went to the grave three generations ago.

But I'm about to dig it up.

I remember being about seven. It was Christmas day. My cousin Matthew and I were sitting on my grandparents' bar stools, swinging our feet and drinking Nesquik hot chocolate with marshmallows. Across the bar in the living room, the "old people" were gathering to take pictures by the mantle- my Dad, his mom and her mom. And my Papa. He stood to the left of my Dad, by himself. After the picture, I asked my Meme, Where is Papa's family?

I'll never forget the reply: Christmas is a happy time. We don't talk about that.

And that is the first- and only- time it was ever discussed.

It wasn't enough. It wasn't then, and it isn't now. My family tree, stretching wide and beautiful back to the 1600s, is sawed off on this side of the tree. The missing branches haunt me.

After asking some hard questions and joining Ancestry.com, I've found a few answers. My Papa's mother, who died the same year I was born, had my Papa when she was 26. That was easy enough to find; my parents still remember her and she is buried near my Papa. It was the 1930 U.S. Federal Census that made my heart stop. There she is, my Great-Grandmother, Delia, living with her brother, Hugh, and her mother, Lou. And there's my Papa: Paul R... with... wait. What does that say??

Runnels, Paul R. nephew.  Runnels? Runnels?! Our last name is Wisdom. His last name is Wisdom!

I was shocked. Shocked and intrigued. Further study has turned up nothing. Following census records revert to the family name and never hint at anything amiss again. That one slip, on that one census record, has changed everything. I have far more questions than when I first started. Than when Christmas was a happy time and we didn't talk about this.

But I can't let it go. I have to know: what happened to Delia? What story did she go to the grave with? And when I find those missing branches, where will they lead?

Most importantly: what is my real last name?

This morning, I nervously opened my DNA kit from Ancestry and followed the instructions. It was simple and only took a moment. 

So now, I wait. I wait, and wonder with nearly every waking moment. Annie Lennox is right: we haven't the faintest idea of these people's lives, trials, hardships or challenges....

 Read Paradoxes, Part One, by clicking here.

My Bee-Day

She liked to tell everybody that women made the best beekeepers, 

'cause they have a special ability built into them to love creatures that sting. 

It comes from years of loving children and husbands.

-Sue Monk Kidd, The Secret Life of Bees

My bees came yesterday. I am a real life beekeeper now.

If you've been around here any time at all, you might remember me going on and on about wanting to keep bees. I mean, wear-the-suit and rob-a-hive and nurse-bee-stings kind of keep bees. Local, red clover honey was calling me. So was my own beeswax for making candles and salves. Then along came The Secret Life of Bees, and the obsession solidified: I had to find a way to get a hive.

And yesterday, under the gathering gray sky, it finally happened. The bee man came with girls for my hive.

The bees came from a well-respected bee man about an hour away. His girls are chemical-free and bred to be gentle. He's also inspected by the state, ensuring scary issues like disease and the varroa mite- the believed reason for colony collapse disorder and bee shortages everywhere- will not be a problem. Hopefully. Hopefully not. I will have to stand guard.

I like Jesse because he's soft spoken and completely, bewilderingly calm, even when the bees land on his bare skin. Being near him, I wasn't afraid, either. In fact, I was enthralled. I lifted and examined the frames before installing them in my new hive. The only time the bees got agitated was when, like the klutz I am, I bumped the third frame while installing it. Jesse said nothing for a moment, then, softly, "Yeah. They don't like it when you drop them."

Can you spot the queen?

So here's my hive. These are the girls that will (literally) work themselves to death over the next several weeks building a hive, nursing brood, guarding the colony, gathering pollen and nectar, drawing out comb, and making honey. Among other things.

By twilight, right before darkness fell, the wayward bees found their way inside the new hives. I stood outside, listening. Their buzzing is hypnotic. Have you ever heard the sound coming from a beehive? It's the warmest, fullest, steadiest hum you've ever heard. Your heart hears it.

Much, much more to come on beekeeping. So much more... -Brin

Sleeping, Safety and Seeing

In peace I will lie down and sleep, 

for you alone, Lord, make me dwell in safety.

-Psalms 4:8

 Millie, during weekend storms

You know the crazy back story behind that verse, Psalms 4:8? David, the man who penned that psalm, wasn't known for having a peaceful life. In fact, his life was deadly dangerous and full of turmoil. But David was known for his confidence that- no matter what came his way- God saw him. God was good. And God was mighty to save.

Go your way today... and sleep tonight... in peace, my friend. God sees you. God is still good. And He is still mighty to save. 

Monday Moment is a little devotional to help kick start your week. See you again next Monday!

SALE PENDING

Look what I found on the realtor's website this morning!

It says SALE PENDING!

Unless the sky falls, we close in less than two weeks. You guys!! A new house/garden adventure! Can you believe it?! Could I use any more exclamation marks?!

Sorry. I'm just so excited!

Last one. That was the last one, I promise.

Just got a forwarded an email between the title company and the realtors yesterday and it showed a beautiful termite inspection report and evidence of pest treatment this week. It also mentioned title should be in any day. I whooped and hollered. I can only assume we're out of the woods with any last minute crash-your-dreams-down-to-the-ground issues, but I'm cautiously thrilled.

Can someone be cautiously thrilled?

Not that I've thought about it...because I've tried NOT to think about it... but the first thing I'm doing is ripping off that terrible awning and the railing on the front porch and steps. Bye bye. Then I'm patching walls and priming the whole interior and airing the rooms. Everyone who's walked through the old place says it stinks. Bad stinks. So that's getting done and then we'll move in. Only then.

I haven't shown you any interior shots yet because the home is occupied by a retiring nurse and, recently, her elderly mother, and their personal items are still displayed. (Just seemed wrong to plaster their personal space on the world wide web without permission, you know?) But trust me. I'm going to bore you half to death with pictures.

Things I'm also considering now that we're marked SALE PENDING:

- I have to transplant all my roses and plants. In May/June. In Texas.
- I'll be doing most everything myself.
- I hope they leave all that super cool stuff in that far/dark corner of the attic, including the carved antique rocking chair and the (original?) mirror above the fireplace.
- I have to get a chimney sweep out immediately to check that and the fireplace on the sun porch. Yes. There's a working/cooking fireplace on the sun porch. (Note that I showed restraint and did not use an exclamation mark there. Winning.)
 - I have to throw the biggest, most joyful new house party ever. This house is big for me, folks. BIG.

Probably should log off now since I feel lines of exclamation marks coming on....

Hope you have a great weekend, wherever you are.  -Brin

Paradoxes, Part One

I have said that Texas is a state of mind,

but I think it is more than that....

-John Steinbeck

I wore boots yesterday and went to a ranch. The community's raising money for a local young woman, an avid equestrian, who has cancer. She's a beautiful girl from a beautiful family, and folks turned out to buy nachos, sing karaoke, bid on auction items, and take selfies with horses named Rio and Blackjack and Pongo.

Have you ever been to Texas? It's a confounding place. It's the land of paradoxes- it's steamy and it's dusty. It's the plains and the ocean. It's palm trees and snow. It's liberal hipster and skeevy redneck. It's loud, it's serene, it's bustling, it's remote. 

It's impossible to be bored in Texas. I think that's why I stay. That, and it's where my family is- both sides. They all sailed from England, landed in Virginia, wagon-trained to Georgia, and settled in Texas. The men had names like Bird and Tavner and Abner. And William. Always, William. They worked hard and fought harder and preached, some. I've been putting together a family tree on Ancestry and got word that I could apply to be a DAR (Daughters of the American Revolution) gal, just like Emily Gilmore on Gilmore Girls. That revelation hit like a smack to the funny bone- hilarious, yet sharp/deep at the same time. Paradox, again.

Lately it's been on my mind how important it must be: the where we come from and who we are. Is it something you ever think about? Is it something you believe matters? I mean, I was raised to understand that Texas isn't just a place, it's in your blood. It's your birthright. But I have always felt like I belonged in a windy, gray, salted-air ocean place, too... like I know something I don't and am carrying a secret no one's ever told me. Crazy paradox, I know.

So I'm about to tell some stories... I'm about to string words together and make a chain from William to Brin, from history to present. It feels necessary, somehow. Necessary, and yet a completely frivolous way to spend these precious days. Could be a present state of mind, but I think it's more than that....

More to come on this.

Rocks and Roses

....It struck her that that perhaps everyone 

had the ability to see themselves in others. 

Even in the rocks. Even in the roses.

-Holly Lynn Payne, Damascena

 

I'm glad you're here. 

We're kind of like a family, you know... those of us who come here. You read me, I read your comments, and I think we see ourselves when we look at each other. Rocks, roses and all. Hi there, you.

The roses are blooming and so I picked some and brought them in. But really they're for you. Thanks for sharing my days, my quiet thoughts, my messy life.

Call it Earth Day or Wednesday or whatever you'd like. Today I'm grateful for... and looking at... you.

Let's be friends always, okay?  -Brin

Whippoorwills, Singing, Gardens and Houses

A feather from the Whippoorwill
That everlasting—sings!
Whose galleries—are Sunrise—
Whose Opera—the Springs....

-Emily Dickinson

Everything is alive here- sprouting and swaying and singing. It's all just so... alive. I'm not sure why, but this spring has brought so much reassurance for me. I've heard her opera of hope: we may be facing chaos, but God is on His throne and He has a plan. Just look at the roses and tell me He doesn't. The Everlasting still sings.

Is this not just the most beautiful, Secret Garden-like place you've ever seen? It's Whippoorwill Gardens in Cass County, Texas. I went not long ago, and we wandered around until it clouded up and threatened rain. I want something like this- these rooms of roses and fountains, I told him. I want something like this at the new place.

Speaking of, so far, still so good on the new house. We're on schedule to close May 9. I'm in this alternate world right now of gardens and paint colors and flea markets and list making. And how wonderful that it's all happening in spring, with all her galleries and operas and whippoorwills!

We're so blessed to be talking gardens and houses. The Everlasting... He still sings.

Monday Moment: The Lord Lenders

 Whoever is kind to the poor lends to the Lord, 

and he will reward them for what they have done.

-Proverbs 19:17

 

Home.

You all know how home is such a big deal to me. I love being home. Home is my favorite place. I need a reason, and a good one, to walk out my front door and get in my car. So a few years ago, when the plight of the homeless people in our area was (honestly) kind of dropped at my feet, it seemed predetermined: homeless people would become my "thing".

And so it began. I was stunned when our local yarn store agreed to collect homemade hats for our homeless friends. Gorgeous hats, like the one above. I was floored when people started showing up with bags of socks for our Socktober event last October. And now? Now I'm giddy that we are 40 pairs of underwear in to collecting 500 pairs of new underwear for our underwear campaign. The local radio station is running public service announcements. The city's event page on Facebook shares nearly every status. Word is getting around!

But even more, I love the way the Bible deals with giving, especially giving to the poor. God makes it clear: He is all about the poor. Want to touch on something that touches the heart of God? Start with the poor in your community. Your neighborhood. That school down the street. 

In fact, God says it this way: if you are kind to the poor, you are lending to Him. And He always repays. Isn't that wildly awesome? Giving to the poor is lending to God, and He repays.

I can't think of anyone I'd rather lend to. Can you?

So let's do it. Let's be the ones who rise above circumstances and setbacks and walk out of our own homes and become a people who are known by our kindness to the poor and overlooked. 

Let's be Lord Lenders.

Monday Moment is a little devotional to help kick start your week. See you again next Monday!