Hope Is a Pretty Thing

Image from Apron Anatomy

I bought this apron last week. It was, I suppose, a sort of congratulations present to myself. Ridiculous, right? I know. Silly.

But I can't begin to tell you... ... ... May I just tell you? As awful as 2009 was, 2010 is, well, it's that much better. Doubly better. Exponentially better. I paused this afternoon and winked at heaven. I actually winked at heaven. You were right, I told Him. Everything You promised. Everything You said. You were right.

Image from Apron Anatomy

Promises kept are beautiful. Lessons learned are precious. Valleys, once forged, are dear. And then there's hope. Hope. Hope.

Hope is pretty thing.

Today's Gifts...

...flowers from the store.
...wooden scoops, ready for a farm.
...Melody Gardot, singing.
...dreams, still thick in my morning mind.
...coffee, strong and steaming.
...Millie, barking outside.
...Ladies in Lavender, ready to play.
...medicine, for a 4-day, lingering bug.
...laundry, folded, ready to pack.
...healthy bread in the oven.
...Sunday. A new week. A beautiful gift.

Whew!

I have to say: washing, photographing and posting the Green Glass Grab goodies to eBay took much longer than I anticipated. Seriously. Now I understand why there are people who will do that for you. For a great, big, giant fee, of course.

After looking over my collection, I decided not to post all the glasses and tumblers I've collected. I'll probably take them to a flea market or antique place and see if anyone wants them. If not, maybe I'll yard sale the lot. The thought of unwrapping all those individual glasses, hand washing them (no dishwasher here) and dealing with them was more than I wanted to tackle this weekend. Especially since I have two work reports and my AOL bio and two article drafts due tomorrow. And whoamygosh, is it almost 5 PM on Monday? I'm dead. I'm so dead.

(Big thanks to all who rushed over and browsed and bid. Big. Thanks. Made my day. Thank you, thank you.)

Got to get settled into this hotel and geared up for another week of brain-bending work. See you when I come up for air... -Brin

Green Glass Grab

So sometime in college, around age 20, I fell for vintage green glass. I fell hard. I loved how the deeply cut, emerald-hued pieces reminded me of spring... of blooming daffodils and Easter grass. Around Christmas I adored how they so easily displayed pinecones, nuts and greenery. I kept a dish on my desk to hold stamps and paper clips. I stashed a tiny bowl in the bathroom cabinet to hold soaps. I kept a green glass pitcher of iced tea in the refrigerator, a stack of plates handy for dinners. Green glass became my "thing", and I picked up pieces wherever and whenever I could.

I decided this winter, as I looked forward to purchasing and customizing a tiny country cottage, that I would have to part with my little collection. Last night, amidst weekend work deadlines and the beginnings of a nasty cold, I decided: I will keep one piece. The rest I will eBay in hopes of sending to eclectic, vintage, or colorful homes where my collection will be loved and treasured for years.

Today I'm uploading my collection to eBay so the Green Glass Grab can begin. Ten percent of each purchase will go toward aiding disaster relief through the American Red Cross, so I feel even better about sending my collection back into the world.

The Green Glass Grab will be going on in full force here on Monday. Thanks for browsing! -Brin

National Month of Rest?

January is good for napping. I think we should start referring to these 31 days as the National Month of Rest. National Resting Month. I can't speak for you, but a few days of intensive rest would be ... would make... would help...

...Yeah. Sleep would be good.

Something tells me Millie and her loyal sidekick, Quackers, would hardly object.

Today I'm celebrating three things that make me weepy proud and inspire me daily:

1. The Preemptive Love Coalition. Started by Jessica, a fellow Academy of Freedom student, and her husband, Jeremy, the Preemptive Love Coalition reaches out to Arab and Kurdish children in Iraq who desperately need life-saving heart surgeries. According to the PLC, "experts think that Saddam Hussein’s 281 chemical attacks and experiments on the Kurds of northern Iraq contribute to the high rate of life-threatening heart disease among children in the region today." Unwilling to sit by, Jessica, Jeremy and their team network with compassionate givers and willing doctors to get these precious children the medical attention they desperately need, spreading hope and love to a largely unreached population.

Let's help. Can we? I know things are tough right now, but do y'all think we could pull together and see that one of these precious kids gets her heart surgery? It would take 300 of us giving a quick $10 to make it happen. Tell you what, visit Preemptive Love Coalition's site, poke around and then think about it. If you're lead to help give $10 or more, do so and let me know. I want to send you a HouseHelper as a way of saying thanks, even if I have to knit 300 of them. :)

2. Lily White Designs. These girls are passionate about creating but - even more - are passionate about sharing their faith. Having run into one of their customers in a hot dog line in Kansas City last week, I contacted Abbie and Jordan and begged for a custom tote. Can't wait to show you. These girls are awesome. Stop by and encourage them, would you?

3. Misty Edwards. It's ridiculous now, but before I "met" Misty and her music, I thought I was the only one. I thought I was the only Christian who stared into the starry night sky and demanded of God: why? Why, God, is there so much suffering? Why do cancer cells spread and checks bounce and children starve and hurricanes strike and men abuse their wives? Why do we get up and do this every day? What's the point of all this? What's the point of life? At some point during the day, almost every day, I listen to Misty's song Point of Life (you can hear some of the song here) and I remember. And it comforts me.

Thanking Jesus today for the people He's raised up everywhere... walking His walk, talking His talk, and bringing His love and His beautiful heart to those who haven't met Him yet and need a bit of Him now. You guys inspire me and make me proud to be a believer. -Brin

In Anticipation of Picnics

While browsing the discount fabric at Hobby Lobby yesterday, I came across this pieced yardage of red and white gingham, cheerful plaid, field flowers. This would make the perfect picnic blanket, I thought as I bought almost four yards.

So last night I began pinning, cutting, and sewing in anticipation of longer days and warmer evenings. I climbed into bed thinking of walking down the pine needle path to the old boat rental shed at the state park. I saw the rainbow-colored sodas in glass bottles... boat paddles hanging from rusted hooks... fishing lures jumbled behind smudged glass. I heard water lapping against bobbing canoes... laughter... the crackle of campfires. I felt cool grass under my feet and warm sun on my back. And suddenly I was asleep....

It was undoubtedly the best rest I've had in weeks.

Here's to picnic lunches before we know it. -Brin

Travel, New Ventures, and a Kind Introduction

Cold day. Even the light feels cold. My eyes ache for something green on days like this one. I get home and fuss around the house, moving vases holding scavenged green things. It warms me up somehow.

I've had a wonderfully busy new year. After waking up January first in Kansas City, I've since zoomed back to Texas and then over to Arkansas, where I'm working on a new project during the week. Late this afternoon I made it back to Texas, dropped my bags by the door and headed to the kitchen. Time to cook.

Speaking of, looks as though we may have to make room for a few more folks around here. AOL has asked me to write a weekly online column, gabbing about food and my life and "waxing poetic", as the editor suggested I tend to do. Suits me fine. I'm eager to make new things, take new pictures, and putter around the kitchen a bit more. Sounds great, doesn't it? Especially on a day as cold as this.

Hope you and the new year had a kind introduction. I have a good feeling about this one, about 2010. I really do...

Make a Smilebox slideshow

Whatever else be lost among the years,

Let us keep Christmas still a shining thing:

Whatever doubts assail us, or what fears,

Let us hold close one day, remembering

Its poignant meaning for the hearts of men.

Let us get back our childlike faith again.

-Grace Noll Crowell

Cookies don't tell the story, however lovingly sugared and wrapped. Presents don't either. Lights, guests, travels and carols don't even come close. The true magic of Christmas is a heart thing, a realization that sinks to your core before swirling around your heart and surging to your senses. It's knowing that God could love someone like you... someone like me... deeply enough to show us. To come down here - here with our death and sickness and heartbreak and struggles - and offer up Himself... His love... in the most spectacular way. Cards, trees and egg nog don't tell that story. Reindeer and tinsel don't either.

God came down... God came close... and love, finally, had a name: Jesus.

Hoping that - whatever else may be lost, doubted, mourned, feared, or unrealized - you will join me in holding close this shining thing, this blessed Christmas day, until we feel the surge of that childlike faith again.

Happy, happy Christmas, dear one. -Brin

Taking the Steps...

I don't suppose I'm unlike other girls out there... grappling with things life has dealt me, wrestling with pain people (mostly men) have introduced, struggling with questions that don't have answers. I have days when I look in the mirror and am struck by my nobody-ness, days when I feel the weight of rejection and failure in my bones. Then I have days when I look in the mirror and am struck by the realization that I was specially created in God's very image, days when I feel the wholeness of Jesus' love and acceptance cover me like skin.

Sunday night I got an email from my friend Scott who was, in his words, "deeply disturbed" by the Painting post. Do you not realize the price that was paid for you? he wrote. I do. He knows I do. And as a Christian with an audience, myself and others feel it's my duty to ensure my writing reflects that. Only some days I'm discouraged. Hurt. Angry. Careless. If, like Scott, you were horrified or disappointed by that, my apologies. This is a messy, thrilling life you're following.

So we take the steps slowly as we endeavor to get to a higher place. Some days we fly up the steps two-at-a-time. Some days we sit down on the steps and take a rest. Other days the climb seems too much... too steep... and we stumble down a few stairs before remembering where we're headed, then we put one foot in front of the other and start climbing again....

At least I do. At least that's how I'm taking the steps.

The Painting

In my dream you were there. But she was, too. I woke up tangled in sheets, my pillow wet with tears.

I decide to go shopping. Still have so much to buy before Christmas. I drive to Jefferson, snatches of my dream sailing by like the cold, foggy scenery outside the window. I park the car. I'm careful to stamp my feet on the mat. Bells jingle as I lean into the shop door. No, not looking for anything in particular. I'll know when I see it. Thanks though.

In a dark stall by the back door I spot it, leaning against an old chair... dusty, forgotten. A painting. A mother and her child. My breath leaves me. The chair creaks as I sink down. I stare, seeing snatches of dream, hearing words in your voice. How long do I sit? When I stand up, my mittens are heavy and damp with tears.

It's only a few dollars. The painting. It wasn't special... or wanted. Just like me. It's meant to be. I drive it home and hang it on the wall.

At home, I gaze up at her and the baby in her arms. I muse until it's dark outside and the wine bottle is empty. I realize: I had such hope. I had such faith. I prayed wrong would fail and right prevail and in the end, I'd have you. You'd have me. And we... we'd have a family.

Instead I have a painting.

From the little that's left of me to all that lives with you, Merry Christmas. That's all I have to give.

-B

At Christmas play and make good cheer,

for Christmas comes but once a year.

-Thomas Tusser

Tiny sweaters, stiched from felt scraps and embellished with thread, buttons, scrap fabric yo-yos, and string. Could anything be more simple, inexpensive, and of good cheer?


I got the idea from Sew Pretty Christmas Homestyle, a book Carla snatched out of my Amazon book shop in a Christmas Eve minute. (Thanks, Carla! Here's one of the projects I loved from the book....) The pattern for these sweaters is small and the teeny sleeves can be hard to fiddle with, but a cold winter evening under a blanket with fiddly handstitching spells ultimate comfort to me. Thus, my Small Sweater Garland was born.

Originally I'd intended to hang these individually from a small tinsel tree, but settled on stringing them from this string for now and hanging them from my dresser. (They have the string at Michael's, too.) The more I think of it, the more I think I will make enough for ornaments and a garland. Wouldn't this make a sweetly treasured heirloom for a special little girl you know? I thought so.

So I intend to add more as the month wears on: snowflake sweaters, embroidered sweaters, maybe even a polka dot sweater. Christmas time is here, after all. Time to play and make good cheer....

Brin's Bargain Books

Okay. Strange time for this picture, I know, considering it was taken last summer as I lazily napped and read alongside the Dolores River in Colorado. Not Christmasy at all.

But here's the thing: while this little house is warm and Christmasy, the boxes of books scattered around are not. This little place is woefully short on space! So I've decided to fill my little book shop powered by Amazon with some titles I've lovingly read from the past few years at Freeman House. Some books were ones I've read and am ready to send along. Others were gifts or duplicate copies. Others were craft or cook books that I learned from and think someone else should get to as well....

If you're so inclined, hop on over to the book shop and grab something for yourself or a friend. (Click the link above... or the "my book shop" icon on the sidebar.) And please note that some of the books have my inscriptions or scribbling in them (where indicated only), or that if you'd like me to inscribe the book or write a special message, I'd be glad to do that, too. I even have some Freeman House cards left, the others destined for the history books...

Wishing you a cozy afternoon. -Brin

A Happy Thanksgiving

It was the best Thanksgiving I've ever had. I held no hopes or expectations going into Thursday - what with the nightmare this year has been - but maybe that's why. It was a perfect day, and thinking of it now makes me gulp back happy tears. The day was just what I needed, and I'm still warmed by the comfort of it all.

I hope yours was just as wonderful.

Before it's back to the real world tomorrow, I'm settling in near the glowing tree tonight with a stack of books, a mug of hot chocolate, the flicker of candles and lots of Christmas music. Let the holidays begin....

Five Days of Thanks

I've had such abundant beauty in my life. All my life. It may be a simple offering, but today I'm thankful for the quiet beauty I've seen, breathed, experienced, lived. There are so many instances I look back on, but these are a few favorites from the past two years:

For the beauty of the earth

For the glory of the skies,

For the love which from our birth

Over and around us lies,

Lord of all, to Thee we raise

This our hymn of grateful praise.

-Folliott S. Pierpoint, 1864

Five Days of Thanks

Though I ebb in worth, I'll flow in thanks.

-John Taylor

It's a simple thing I'm giving thanks for today, this first of five days I'll offer up something I'm deeply grateful for.

Today I'm grateful for meals. Humble meals, family meals, hot meals, short meals, fancy meals, early meals, alone meals, big meals. When I look back on the tables I've pulled up to this year, I see faces and places I treasure. I recall favorite dishes and new dishes. I see hearty breakfasts and lunches with friends and dinners small, cozy, and contented. I taste drive-thru tacos and homegrown salads, Japanese cuisine and Mom's pot roast...

I see the faithfulness and blessing of a generous God, who never fails in His provision to me.

As I start seeds for another year of meals, I look back on this year's and feel my heart grow heavy with thanks. Never has someone who deserves so little been given so much.

Thanksgiving Lessons Learned

The Pilgrims made

seven times more graves than houses.

No Americans have been more impoverished

than these who, nevertheless,

set aside a day of thanksgiving.

- H.U. Westermayer

This year's Thanksgiving centerpiece, made from things I had, things I gathered and things I've been given. I wanted to enjoy it all week long, not just the day of.

This year has afforded me many opportunities to examine my heart. Am I truly thankful? Do I live a life of thankfulness? The answer was, predictably, not always. But to my surprise, I found seeds of thanksgiving I hadn't known were there:

I found that raw, honest thanks sometimes proves itself in the midst of tears. In the midst of new graves and lost houses.

I found that it's one thing to hope on blessings, but it's an entirely different thing to hope on the Blesser.


If the Pilgrims - who spent days digging graves while their houses lay unbuilt - can be thankful, so will I. So must I. And the thing for which I'm most thankful this year? That while seasons change and blessings and loved ones come and go, I am justified by grace...

...and still I stand.