How the West Was Worn Out

Wild West Witness Vacation Bible School 2007 is in the history books. I'm one tired deputy. Camron's cowboy could lasso me and drag me half way to New York City and I'm not sure I'd even notice.

The children were so adorable. Well, most of them. Three of the them got a little unruly today. One spit on me and another pushed me into a church pillar. Of course, the one who slung me half across the parking lot ended up inviting me to his bowling birthday party this weekend. "Please, Miss Brin. You'll come, right?" Kids. What can you do? Especially when they look like this:Ah, what a week. Please excuse this tired hand's absences and haphazard attempt at blogging. I'll be back in the saddle Monday. And next week we're doing some cooking. I can hardly wait!

Hope everyone at your ranch has a safe and peaceful weekend. -Brin

Summer Knitting Classes

Summer knitting classes begin Monday at Freeman House. I'm so looking forward to them. This afternoon I began preparations in earnest, winding small, sky-blue balls of yarn and stitching up knitting bags for each of the "students".

I should be finished with class prep, but I kept getting interrupted by the summer sun as it shifted and bounced its soft, buttery light all through the dining room. It was so peaceful - the waves of light and the rhythmic hum of the wool winder.

I've decided to do summery refreshments each week for the knitters. I'm thinking we'll ease into the five sessions with chilled Strawberry Soup. I'm picturing it garnished with little balls of vanilla bean ice cream and bright, fresh sprigs of mint. Seems like a fitting start to a quiet and warm summer of knitting, doesn't it?

Sunshine, Freedom and Flowers

One must have sunshine,

freedom,

and a little flower.

-Hans Christian Andersen

What is summer if it isn't sunshine, freedom, and a little flower?

Or two.

Sending warm Texas sun and bright happy zinnia wishes your way! -Brin

Monday Moment: Chasing Away the Empty

I have seen all the things
that are done under the sun;
all of them are meaningless,
a chasing after the wind.
-Ecclesiastes 1:14

(Ah, I'm so glad you aren't third graders. You tell them the story of Paul and Barnabas and their first missionary journey. You tell them about how people who didn't want to hear about Jesus tried to stone Paul to death - "with BIG rocks". Then you tell them that despite their troubles, Paul and Barnabas kept preaching, teaching and encouraging each other and early Christians in their faith. And at the end of the day, as everyone's packing up colored-on papers and crafts and stickers, you ask them: what did we learn today?

"'Bout Paul and Barn... uh... 'bout Paul and how they 'couraged people to throw rocks at each other."

Oh geez.

Again, I'm so glad you guys aren't in third grade.)

Actually, it's strange how as third graders we can feel more satisfied with life than as an adult. You know? There's so much to look forward to at that age: junior high, high school, getting a job, getting married, having babies. It's the age that work seems cool and cars are even cooler and everyone wants a house and a baby and a lawnmower. (Especially a riding lawnmower, apparently.) And then... we reach that age. We acquire things and people along the way, and suddenly - one morning - we look around and think, is this ALL there is? I must be missing something. What am I missing? Why do I still feel like this isn't good enough?

It's funny how much of our lives we devote to filling this hole. We shop. We read. We create. We pour ourselves into others: our kids, our family, our employers. We eat. We plan trips or events and once the excitement of everything wears off... once the new is old and we've been there and done that... there it is again: that emptiness. I don't know about you, but it camped at the edge of my bed. Every morning I got up and every night I went to sleep, there it was. It tucked me in and woke me up, the emptiness did.

I always thought a successful career would fulfill me. It didn't. I was miserable. But I held on, thinking a marriage would fill me up. Oh gosh. It didn't, and I lost much more than I was ever willing to give. I thought maybe restoring a big, historic home would give me the challenge and escape and sense of accomplishment I needed. It hasn't.

Solomon had the same trouble. Solomon was a ruler of the Jewish nation and wrote the biblical book of Ecclesiastes. He was very wealthy, very wise, and had it all. And yet 14 verses into his book he writes: I have seen all the things that are done under the sun; all of them are meaningless, a chasing after the wind.

Modern day example: Britney Spears. Lindsay Lohan. Paris Hilton. These girls have everything. More than most of us could dream of. Why aren't they happy? Why are they all in jail and rehab? Obviously record deals and having clubs named after you isn't it what it takes to chase away the empty. Gosh. Everywhere you look all you see is a bunch of empty people. We're a collection of empty vessels.


But we don't have to be. In Matthew 16, Jesus is talking and says: If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it. What good will it be for a man if he gains the whole world, yet forfeits his soul?...

Our preacher tackled this Sunday. "Do you want to live a life that counts?" he asked. "Live your life for Jesus." Sounds hooky. Ridiculous almost. Maybe even I would roll my eyes and continue on with my life ... except... except it works. As a new year's resolution, I decided to adopt Micah 6:8 as my motto: "He has shown thee, O man, what is good and what the Lord requires of you: but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God." I decided to try my life that way - following Him. Walking with my God. And you know what? For the first time in 28 years, my life is full. My life is full of joy. It's not always easy. It's not always barrels of fun. I don't get a minute more rest than I did. But at the end of the day I feel such blessed peace. I have such reassuring hope. And all that emptiness? Gone. It's like a long, bad dream.

Maybe you need to come to terms with your relationship with Jesus. Maybe you have, but life's still lacking. If you're tired of chasing after the wind and ready to chase away the empty, I dare you: throw it down. Throw it all down. The emptiness. The disappointments. The hopes. The fears. Throw them down, pick up that cross and follow Jesus. See where He leads you. See what living a life that counts feels like. It's your decision.

But know this: ultimately, at the end of it all, nothing will matter save our decisions. Our decision to accept God or ignore God. Or decision to follow Jesus or follow ourselves. Our decision to chase the wind or chase away the empty. It's up to you and your vessel to decide....

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

Coming: Monday Moment

I have seen all the things

that are done under the sun;

all of them are meaningless,

a chasing after the wind.

-Ecclesiastes 1:14

Bet you came for a devotional, didn't you? Bet you'd be interested to know that this week's devotional is about being empty. About how life can seem meaningless. About how you... when the day is done and the lights go out... still wonder if there's more to life than what you see. If there's more to life than what you're getting...

... There is. I know because I've found it. Emptiness can be a thing of the past. Meaninglessness can no longer apply to you. No more chasing after the wind. Really. You don't have to live an empty life another day.

Check back with me later. As you read this I'm probably at church... around a fake campfire... teaching a passel of third graders about the importance of "daily cheer". Vacation Bible School begins today. Let me sit with these cuties and I'll be right with you, okay?

See you soon... -Brin

Laundry Saturday

We should all do what,

in the long run, gives us joy,

even if it is only picking grapes

or sorting the laundry.

- E. B. White

Amen.

Rest

By the seventh day
God had finished the work

He had been doing;
so on the seventh day
He rested from all His work.

-Genesis 2:2

This has been one of the busiest weeks I've had since leaving the city. Next week I'm juggling my full-time job, teaching Vacation Bible School and trying to get parts of Freeman House finished for my summer knitting class. Egad! The longer my to-do list gets, the more I want to crawl into my fluffy bed and piece my quilt and eat biscuits and Bumbleberry Jam.

I saw this quilt on Heather Bailey's blog a few weeks ago and decided it would be perfect for a guest room. I'm making my hexagons larger (3 inches) and have changed the design a bit, but the concept is still the same. Isn't it beautiful?

Well, I think so.

You know, speaking of curling up with a quilt, I think God was really onto something when He rested that seventh day. I've often wondered why He did. It's not as if He needed to. Perhaps He did it as an example. Perhaps He did it to show us that every few days we need to stop and look at everything we've created and rest. Just rest. We're all so tired. So burned out. So drained and stretched and exhausted. I wonder how our lives would change for the better if we would follow God's example and take one day out of the week and rest?

What a luxury that would be, huh?

Enjoy your weekend. And try... try to get some rest! -Brin

Gracie's Garden Tour

I went outside the town,
trying to hear what was in the wind...
- Henry David Thoreau, Concord, 1845

I thought a little garden tour was in order today. Join me, won't you, and let's romp through the grounds of Holly Hill...


Before we set off, we probably need a tour guide. Luckily, Gracie the cat is here to lead the way....



If I were a squirrel this would be my primary residence.


Guests could sleep here, in the guest room. Gives a whole new meaning to the phrase "garden bed", doesn't it?

Together we could play among these trees. Especially this one. By the way, I call it the pear-way to heaven. (Slapping my knees while you roll your eyes.)

Ooop. We're stopping. Water break, apparently.

How do you like them apples?

Ah, sunset. Good tour. Thanks for coming with. I'll see you again tomorrow... same time, same place...

What the Garden Hath Wrought

Garden as though you will live forever.

William Kent

I am loving this time of year. Every day in the garden is a new surprise. Berries I hadn't seen yesterday are bowing to the sun today. Zucchini I hadn't spotted yesterday is jutting out beneath its leaves today....

And ooh... look! The first tomatoes of the summer! They surprised me yesterday as the sun set, and I broke the peaceful, pink silence by yelling, "TOMATOES, everyone! I. have. tomatoes!" No one heard me, of course, so I'm telling you. Tomatoes will soon be tumbling out of every basket and off every counter in the house. Soon sauce and sun-drying will be in full swing. But for now, these beauties will be sliced, peppered and prominently featured on a cheese and tomato sandwich (with herb mayonnaise, of course!) for lunch. Hurry, lunch! Hurry!

What do you suppose is the best part of gardening? About planting a flower or plant of your own? Is it when you tuck those shriveled seeds in the ground, all full of hope for a harvest? Is it when you watch things sprout and grow, thrilled at their determination and your effort? Or is it when you clip and pick and bring things indoors that you fully appreciate the garden and the cycle of life? For me, it's everything. I thrill in it all....

So here's to our plants and our hard work and our summer! May there be many glossy berries and yummy sandwiches in your warm future...

While I Was Sleeping...

The house was broken into overnight. Everything is fine, of course, but I'm off to the police station to answer questions and finalize the report.


Entrance was gained to Freeman House by way of the library, home to my many books and the dress form. Just before bed I had clothed her in my new, rough draft, experimental knitted capelet before heading to bed.

She must have seen it all.

I wonder what capelet-clad dress forms could say, if capelet-clad dress forms could talk?

(UPDATE: Weird, weird break-in, but all is well. The police poked around all morning, took a few things into evidence, and helped me screw some windows shut. It's creepy to think that someone was inside my house last night as I was asleep - walking around, pushing things around, looking things over. Reaffirmed to me that I am carefully protected and divinely watched! And now we know that happened while Brin was sleeping!)

Monday Moment: While He Was Sleeping...

Without warning,

a furious storm came up on the lake,

so that the waves swept over the boat.

But Jesus was sleeping.

-Matthew 8:24

I love this story. It's one of my very favorites. I think of this story sometimes when I'm falling asleep. I thought of this story this week when I was happily dozing off at Holly Hill....

So, to set the scene, it happened like this: It had been a busy few days. Jesus and His disciples were leaving Capernaum after going seemingly non-stop... meeting and healing people such as the centurion's servant and Peter's mother-in-law. These guys were probably a little worn out. They'd seen a lot the past 48 hours.

So there they were... in a boat... crossing the lake... heading for yet another destination. They were tired. You tired? ... Yeah, I'm beat... (Yawn.) And suddenly, in the midst of their tired lives, here came the rain. Suddenly, without anticipating it, they found themselves in the middle of an angry, raging storm. Waves lapped up to the boat. Then into the boat. Water sprayed in their eyes and the foamy roar drowned out their cries. They were in trouble... they were about to go down!... and... wait... where's Jesus? He's asleep. They're bailing water and hanging on as waves pitch the boat and Jesus... He's asleep. In the midst of the storm, He's asleep.

You're smirking, aren't you? Maybe nodding a little? Why? Because. Because it's happened to all of us - this very same thing. You know, you're living your life ... a little busy, a little tired... but you're making it. You're in the boat, moving along to your next destination. And suddenly -before you even realize it, really - you're in the middle of a storm. And as the waves get stronger and the water gets deeper, you realize: I'm about to sink. Where is Jesus? Where is God when I need Him most? I'm drowning over here and He's oblivious. Some "Savior"...

Let's go back to that boat on that stormy lake. Here's the entire story: Then he [Jesus] got into the boat and his disciples followed him. Without warning, a furious storm came up on the lake, so that the waves swept over the boat. But Jesus was sleeping. The disciples went and woke him, saying, "Lord, save us! We're going to drown!" He replied, "You of little faith, why are you so afraid?" Then he got up and rebuked the winds and the waves, and it was completely calm. The men were amazed and asked, "What kind of man is this? Even the winds and the waves obey him! (Matthew 8:23-27, NIV)

Did you catch that? Did you? It's right there, in black and white:

#1) Jesus got into the boat first. Knowing a storm was brewing, Jesus didn't say, "You guys go on ahead and I'll catch up". Knowing what His disciples would face, Jesus didn't let them venture out first. Or alone. He was in that boat before they ever stepped in. (And by the way, these guys were fishermen by trade before Jesus called them to be "fishers of men". The fact that the men - with all their experience at sea - were scared meant that this must have been a BIG storm. Big enough to frighten them into thinking they would drown.) But it didn't matter. Jesus was already in the boat.

#2) Jesus knew the storm was coming and He still got in. Knowing they would be hit with a storm, Jesus could have delayed their trip. He could have gotten out on the water earlier... or later. So why do you suppose He led them into the boat knowing they could drown? To show them. To show them that no matter the storm... no matter the ferocity of the waves... He's there. He's in that boat before they ever were. And He's Lord of all: their fear, the waves, the storm. He was - and is - in control.

#3) Jesus let the disciples turn to Him before He acted. I find it interesting that the Bible says Jesus was asleep. (How do you suppose He slept through the storm?) Point is, Jesus was there, but He waited until the disciples came to Him to take action. He could have stayed awake and calmed the storm at the first sign of distress. He could have stepped in when the disciples got scared. But He didn't. He let Himself fall asleep. He let those big, tough fishermen get scared enough to come to Him before He stepped in.

I can't tell you why it oftentimes seems we battle things alone. I don't know why it sometimes feels that God is asleep while our storm is raging. I do know that, despite what we feel, He's there, at-the-ready to act. Sometimes we just need to call upon Him.

#4) Jesus got up. I love that... "then Jesus got up". After giving them the, "Where's your faith? Why are you scared?" line, Jesus got up. He wasn't too busy. He didn't say, "Oh, sorry, you got yourself into this storm and now you'll have to ride it out." He didn't shrug, "Awh, that's life. It'll be okay," and go back to sleep. He didn't ignore them, roll over, and start snoring. He got up. Why? Because He's a getting-up, rising-again, going-before and standing-alongside kind of God. When you call, He answers. When you're scared, He's already there. When you're drowning, He's in control. He was then, and He is still today. And that "we're going to drown!" kinda storm you're riding through is nothing to Him. He got there before you did. He speaks and all is calm. Even the winds and the waves obey.

Man, I love that story. I like to think it's the story of my life, too. Messy and thrilling. Scary to me, a shoo-away storm to Him. But other than that, I love to think about Jesus and what He did. I love to read about what happened while He was sleeping....

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

Summer-Filled Veins

Summer has filled her veins with light

and her heart is washed with noon.

-C. Day Lewis

Click to enlarge the Southern Banana Pecan Muffins

I don't care what the little numbered squares on the calendar tell us, summer is here. It flooded the yard and seeped in underneath my door yesterday so, you see, I had no choice but to welcome it in. Besides, it brought with it hydrangeas the color of the sky. I can never say no to a guest who brings sky-blue hydrangeas as a welcome offering.

Now that it's here, everything at Freeman House tastes of it... summer, that is. I came home after a few days away to find swollen squash and plump strawberries waiting in the garden. The carrot tops are frilly and bright. The tomatoes are blushing. Grape vines are curling around fences and trees. Soon the kitchen will be full of bubbling pots of spaghetti sauce and jam and honeyed carrots. The oven will be popping out zucchini bread and cheese-covered squash and berry crisps. Oh early not-yet-summer, I love you so. I love even the thought of you.

Tomorrow marks the official opening day of many area fruit and berry farms. Isn't it wonderful? Before I am distracted by all the bright and shiny red, blue and black berries, I decided to use up bunches of 49c bananas and make my Southern Banana Pecan muffins. It's my own recipe that took ten years to perfect. Omgosh, are they wonderful. Actually, no... "wonderful" is almost an insult. They are too perfect for words. Pictures will have to do.

Okay. I'm off to enjoy my early summer. I have clothes on the line that need to come down before the mosquitoes wake...

(Update: The recipe, for Sherry....)

SOUTHERN BANANA NUT MUFFINS

Preheat oven to 350 F.
Grease a jumbo/six-cup muffin tin.

Using a wooden spoon, stir up:
2 c. flour
2 t. baking powder
1 t. salt
½ t. baking soda

In another bowl, cream with wooden spoon until light and fluffy:
½ c. shortening
3/4 c. sugar

To that mixture, add:
2 eggs
Beat well.

Now in separate bowl (I use a Pyrex cup), combine:
3 very ripe bananas, mashed
2 T. cream
1 t. vanilla

Alternately add banana mixture and bowl of dry ingredients into shortening/egg/sugar mixture, beating just until smooth after each addition. Stir in nuts. Turn into greased loaf muffin tin (or a loaf pan). Stir together ¼ c. brown sugar, 2 t. flour, and a small handful of chopped nuts. Sprinkle on top of muffin batter. Bake at 350F for 15-20 minutes for muffins, or 45-50 minutes for loaf, or until toothpick inserted in center comes out clean. Remove from pans and cool. Wrap and store overnight before eating. By the way, these muffins really come into their own after a day or so. They aren’t nearly as good out of the oven as they will be tomorrow.

You should know that I usually put my very ripe bananas in the freezer for a day or two before using them in this recipe. I put them out on the counter to thaw before mashing them. It’s what my Grandmother usually did. And… don’t throw out those banana peels. Cut them into 1-2 inch pieces and bury them just under the soil around your roses. They’ll love you and you’ll be an organic, rose-growing genius who serves amazing banana nut muffins. Clever you.

Solitude on Holly Hill

Women need real moments of solitude

and self-reflection to balance out

how much of ourselves we give away.

-Barbara de Angelis

Ooooh but it was magical!

I arrived at Holly Hill Homestead that Monday morning with books, a sewing basket, and a bag full of cares. There, in the middle of the piney woods, I was to spend the next few days. Isolated. Alone. (Well, except for a menagerie of animals.) I was nervous. I was thrilled.

It was dark and oppressively damp that day. A storm was blowing in. The air was so heavy it seemed my bags and I were wandering through a sponge. To be honest, I felt a little Kiss the Girls as I weaved through the trees to the porch of the old cotton plantation house. Somewhere inside the foliage an animal cackled. Or yelled. Oh boy.

But when I climbed the porch steps and beheld this view, I was amazed. Ahh, this I could handle for the week. This is... wow! This is such a blessing!

And it was. Was it ever! I explored the house. I fixed myself tea and took it with me to roam the gardens...

Click picture to enlarge sign.

I walked and walked and prayed and prayed. Nearer to God's heart, I poured it all out - the fear, the frustrations, the hope. I passed apple trees and tangles of roses and herbs and wildflowers. And when I came upon this, I stayed.

Well, wouldn't you?

Ah, it was a week to remember. And I have so much to show you all! But for now I'm off for a bit of setting things right at Freeman House before my brother's graduation tonight.

Thanks for all your kind comments and wishes while I was away. You're so dear to me! I'm looking forward to catching up with each you... -Brin

Off On Vacation! See You Friday!

Monday Moment: God Knows

Before I formed you in the womb I knew you...
Jeremiah 1:5

I have brown hair. I have brown hair, green eyes, and fair skin. My left foot is bigger than my right foot. My right eye sees better than my left. I hate lemons. I love mint.

I like to think things through but I hate schedules. I can't do a 9 to 5 job. I like an easy hairstyle but I love a challenge. I wouldn't want to live in a new house. I am messy but I am organized. I rarely sit through an entire movie. I never take naps but love to sleep.

I am still discovering things about myself. I'm still surprised by the things I do, say, and think. But God isn't. Before He formed me, He knew it all: the feet, the mint, the challenges. Before I drew my first breath, God saw it all. And He still loves me.

I got several very personal comments/emails after last week's devotion. I'm still getting them. People are searching. People are hurting. People are looking for hope and praying for answers. People need to know, "am I alone?" People need to know "does God still love me, even though...?". We need assurance. We need perspective. We need, quite honestly, our God.

Chances are I don't know you. Chances are we've never met. But that doesn't stop me from saying this with all certainty: God knows. God knows you. Your quirks. Your secrets. Your hopes. Your sin. You may have buried them but you haven't hidden them. Not from an almighty God. And guess what? Those traits you possess... that sin you've committed... those wishes you harbour... He knew about them before you did. Before He knitted you together in your mother's womb, He knew who you would become. And He still made you. He still loves you.

I got chills (chills, I tell you!) when sitting in church not too long ago. My preacher was talking about sin and Jesus' death on the cross. Suddenly I was struck by the timeline of it. Think about it: Jesus died before we ever lived. Looking forward through time, He saw you. He saw me. He saw who we would be and what we would do. He saw our rebellion and our doubt and our sin. He saw our beauty and our potential and our hope. He saw us... in our entirety... and headed straight for that cross. What love! What knowledge! What grace!

Point is this: you can't surprise God. And you can't undo His love and His sacrifice for you. What's done is done... your sin and His saving. And wherever your find yourself - at this very moment - God is working it all together for good.

Why? Because He knows. He knows you. And He always, always has....

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

A Country Vacation, Begun

In our leisure we reveal

what kind of people we are.

-Ovid

I couldn't be more excited about these next few days if I tried! Vacation is underway... officially... today at noon. After a leisurely spinach and strawberry salad, I'm off to plant the zinnias and basil pulled from my mother's garden. I love zinnias. And basil....

Time off comes so infrequently, doesn't it? There's never enough. I'm the type that hates vacations with itineraries. Hate them. Freestyle leisure is the life for me. I just decided that tonight I'll likely take in an outdoor movie followed by dinner at the Honeysuckle Rose Cafe....

...Or maybe I'll invite some friends over for desserts and a showing of Marie Antoinette. But... the weather is perfect for being outdoors. Maybe we'll put on some Norah Jones and open a bottle of wine and watch the stars twinkle from the front porch...

Hmm. I do know tomorrow I'll be thrifting and blowing fivers right and left at the annual spring Treasure Trail... the county-wide flea market/yard sale extravaganza. I'd forgotten it was this weekend. Oh... the stuff to be had! Wish you were here!

So... I guess that's it. I'll check in with you darlings Monday morning for our weekly devotional and after that I'm off for the Bed and Breakfast:

Enjoy your weekend! -Brin

Shopping Our Dreams

I adore simple pleasures.

They are the last refuge of the complex.

-Oscar Wilde

Cindy Mae, A Handmade Rose

Today seems a flurry of shopping anticipation: Alicia has her bookbags, Hillary has her re-printed patterns, Heather has her fabric. You know what I adore most about this online creative community? The majority of the products and goodies you'll find hearken back to a happier time. A time when we swung a bookbag up library steps and stopped skipping once we reached the door. Don't you remember being in awe of the hushed stillness of those enormous, book-lined rooms? I do. Alicia's bookbags flood me with memories of The Velvet Room and peppermint ice cream and mosquito bites. So, so wonderful.

When I talked to my Mom about opening a little online store to help pay for the renovations at Freeman House, she looked skeptical. "We should go out and buy some magazines and see what's hot right now," she advised. I wasn't so sure. "I don't know, Mom," I said. "I think I want to make aprons and bags and updated takes on vintage pretties," I added. She wasn't sold.

But I was. Don't you remember ...? Awh, don't you remember ladies wearing flowers... on their hats, on their sweaters, in their hair? Don't we all remember a bag (with bright lipstick and change for candy) dangling from a plump forearm? And don't you remember a grandmother somewhere wiping tears and shooing flies with her apron? I do. And I wanted to give a younger generation the option of those memories, too.

Charlotte, A Sleep/Eye Mask

Of course, not everyone holds the same family memories. Some of our favorite moments come from other places... like Breakfast at Tiffany's... when we watched Audrey Hepburn prance around with fantastic hair and a sleep mask. When I was younger I always wanted a sleep mask just like Audrey Hepburn's. I tried to make one once out of a folded bandanna. Didn't have quite the same effect. But now, twenty years later, I stumble around with less than fantastic hair but a darling a sleep mask. It's even scented with my own organic lavender. I have ten more working across the hall so I can share. We can all be Audreys if we want... if only for a few hours.

Gosh. Isn't it funny the memories we hold dear? And isn't it fun to play with those dreams until we have a tangible, visual representation of them? Talking about making dreams come to life! A never-fading cotton rose and a pretty blue sleep mask do it for me....

What about you? If your dreams took shape, what would you be holding?

Happy shopping! -Brin

Butter, the B&B and Bailey

Bread... and butter are of venerable antiquity.

They taste of the morning of the world.

-Leigh Hunt, 1784-1859

I'm making homemade honey butter this morning. In fact, it may take me all day to type this, for as I peck at the keyboard with my right hand I'm making butter with my left.

You never know what you're going to get with me, do you?

It all started last week with an email. "Hello," said the lady who owns a Bed & Breakfast some 30 minutes east of town, "would you be available to house sit while we're away?" I couldn't believe my eyes. A renowned B&B ... with its wildflowers and gardens... all to myself? For the week? For free? "Yes, yes, yes!" I practically shouted into the phone when she called. "When can I come?"

So, you see, I'm headed off Monday for a "working vacation". I'm already dreaming of hoisting Agnes Grey atop that fluffy, quilt-covered bed on their summer porch and reading for hours beneath the lazy ceiling fan. It will be marvelous. I can scarcely wait.

I'm meeting with the inn owner briefly tomorrow to go over everything. Not wanting to show up empty handed, I began looking around Freeman House for something to take. Anything from the garden was out, since Miss Garden herself probably has dozens of whatever I could offer. Baked goods were out, too, since I burned through the ancient coils in my ancient oven and am having to await parts before I can use the oven again. (Sigh) So... what to make? I leaned on the refrigerator door, thinking, when I noticed a bit of must-use-soon cream hanging out. Voila! Homemade honey butter it is.

If you've never made butter before, you don't know what you're missing. If you've never eaten butter that you just made before, you really don't know what you're missing. It's the most simple thing in the world to make and requires only these few things: a jar, a spoon, some cream, some salt, and an arm workout. The possibilities are endless, too: you can make honey butters, herb butters, steak butters... use your imagination. (There's nothing better than a hot biscuit or a hot-off-the-grill steak with this stuff. Woo-wee!) Here's how I do it:

Homemade Butter

Method adapted from MaryJane Butters

1. Fill a clean pint (or quart) jar with a tight-fitting lid approximately 2/3 full with heavy whipping cream. Leave on the counter at room temperature for 8-12 hours or overnight.

2. Shake the jar - not too quickly- at a rate of about one shake per second.

As the cream becomes butter, you'll notice it bead up on the sides of the jar.

Eventually (as MaryJane says), you'll have a clump of yellow butter and

liquid buttermilk filling your jar.

3. Drain the buttermilk and plop the butter into a bowl.

Press butter with wooden spoon to squeeze out the rest of the buttermilk.

Repeat a few times.

4. Pour the buttermilk back into your jar and store in the refrigerator.

Use it for pancakes and biscuits.

5. Season your butter. Add salt, honey, herbs, steak seasoning... whatever you like.

Store, tightly covered in the refrigerator.

(Once it's cold, feel free to transfer to your freezer for long-term storage.)

This is a great project to tackle while watching TV. It's also fun for kids. Just pay attention while you shake. Don't, for instance, put down your jar to take a drink of coffee and then forget you're holding your coffee cup and give it an enormous shake. You'll be sorry, as I just was.

Ah... okay. The butter is truly wonderful. The wave of hot coffee... not so much. Good news is the butter's about done and ready to pack in a pretty dish to take to the B&B tomorrow. Yea!

Oh... by the way... for those crafter/quilters out there, you have to check out Heather Bailey's blog. Heather is a fabric designer and has some of the most charming projects and ideas. I'm planning to start this quilt while I'm happily tucked away in the B&B next week. Isn't it beautiful?!

Click on quilt to enlarge.

Okay, so there you have it. Butter, the B&B, and Heather Bailey. Just a few of the things that occupy my attention today...

...Well, that and my new coffee-dyed sleeve.

Tagged on Black Tuesday

Seriously. I'm doing everything I can over here to distract myself from the rapidly-approaching reality that Gilmore Girls ends tonight. Tonight. I'm not ready. I'm not emotionally prepared. For the past seven years, Tuesday has been my best day of the week. I'm not sure what I'll do now. (Dramatic sigh)

It started just after college, when I left my job as a reporter for a small ABC station and moved to the big city. As I vied for a job in the Dallas market, I waited tables, answered phones for VarTec Telecom and ... waited tables. But every Tuesday night, no matter what was going on, my small circle of friends and I would meet at Boston's and talk the guys out of a big-screen TV for an hour. Oh, the fun we had! We'd eat pizza and burgers and tacos and laugh and talk and watch. Later, after I got my big job and others went on to grad school and law school, we'd still talk most Tuesday nights... catching up on the show and each other. Even now... now that we're oil and gas brokers and teachers and lawyers, we still keep up - on the show and each other.

Okay. Let's change the subject before I start to cry. Hmmm. What to say? What. To. Say? Okay. It's supposed to rain today. That's something. There's a 40% chance of wet stuff. And ... um... I forgot to take the garbage out. Again. And... oh! I got tagged! Kathy's Cottage and Lana
tagged me, and while I usually don't like to play by the rules, today's the day for it. So here we go... seven weird things about myself, right?

1. Spell check always catches my name and tries to change it to "Brain". I laugh every time.

2. I like to make my own handmade... whatevers... when I can. Jam, quilts, body scrub, pin cushions... I like to make it all. My neighbor thought I was crazy last fall when I gathered pecan shells - empty, hulled out ones. "You know those aren't good, right?" she asked. "Yep. I'm grinding them in my coffee grinder and adding them to body lotion as exfoliants," I said. Duh. If Dr. Bigelow can use walnut shells, I can use pecan.... Also, my Mom and I pieced this pin cushion together from an Indygo Junction pattern using scraps from some of y'alls aprons. I love it.

3. I get poison ivy several times a year. I have it now. I think the fact that I can get poison ivy just looking at the stuff and my brother can't get it when he rolls in the stuff proves there is a God. When I get to heaven, I plan on asking God about poison ivy.

4. I love comfort food. Oatmeal, roast and potatoes, meatloaf, pot pies, Tex-Mex (down here, that's comfort food)... I love it all. My favorite way to cook is to play around with recipes that have been in my family forever. Like mashed potatoes with a tarragon cream butter. Pot roast with chipotle gravy. Chicken pot pie with cipollini onions and red carrots. When you come for a visit, expect to eat like that. (By the way, this oatmeal is really good. My recipe link is above. Spice it up by adding some cinnamon in with the oats before they cook.)

5. I read cookbooks in bed at night. I also read patterns and knitting books. I'm like a granny.

6. I'm ready for Christmas. Already. Usually by June I'm thinking of which tree to put where, and what theme I'll do for the holidays. Last year I did A Dicken's Christmas, which was incredible when we gathered around the organ near the flickering tree and sang Good King Wenceslas. Priceless. This year I'm doing Vintage Christmas. I can't wait.

7. I have all the Gilmore Girls on DVD. So while I cry about what I'll do next Tuesday evening, we all know I'll stick in a DVD and pretend like this cataclysmic end never came. I'm like the old lady who keeps ironing while a tornado takes off the top of her home. If I don't acknowledge it, it's not really happening. (Smile)

Still with me? Wow. I'm honored. Kathy and Lana, I hope that suffices. I look forward to reading how the rest of you are weird, too.

Gotta scoot. Tonight's a big night! --Brin