Tuesday, 14 July 2020

The Simple Woman's Daybook . . .

 

FOR TODAY, July 14, 2020 

Outside my window ...
The sky is overcast and it is cool.  What will become of today remains to be seen.

I am thinking ...
Sometimes life can be more difficult than anything you ever envisioned or expected it to be. The hard part is keeping a level head through it all and making the best decisions in order to help you move forward with the minimum of loss. These things don't happen overnight. Patience is the key.

I am thankful for ...
Once again, the powers of discernment, and the companionship of the Holy Ghost.

In the kitchen ... 


In the English Kitchen today  . . .  Small Batch Plantation Cupcakes


On my "To Cook" list ...



Spicy Southern Kitchen. German Chocolate Upside Down Cake. 


Good to know ... 



I am creating ... 

  

Walkerland. All Natural VapoRub Ointment. 


Crochet and Create. Kitchen handtowel and dishcloth.  




Improvised Life.  Triangle Letter. Interesting.  



No source.  Needle felted mushroom/toadstool. Very cute! 


  

Pixie Hill. Polymer Clay Toadstools. Sweet inspiration. 


I am reading ... 


The Things that Keep Us Here, by Carla Buckley
How far would you go to protect your family? Ann Brooks never thought she’d have to answer that question. Then she found her limits tested by a crisis no one could prevent. Now, as her neighborhood descends into panic, she must make tough choices to protect everyone she loves from a threat she cannot even see.

In this chillingly urgent novel, Carla Buckley confronts us with the terrifying decisions we are forced to make when ordinary life changes overnight. A year ago, Ann and Peter Brooks were just another unhappily married couple trying–and failing–to keep their relationship together while they raised two young daughters. Now the world around them is about to be shaken as Peter, a university researcher, comes to a startling realization: A virulent pandemic has made the terrible leap across the ocean to America’s heartland. And it is killing fifty out of every hundred people it touches.

As their town goes into lockdown, Peter is forced to return home–with his beautiful graduate assistant. But the Brookses’ safe suburban world is no longer the refuge it once was. Food grows scarce, and neighbor turns against neighbor in grocery stores and at gas pumps. And then a winter storm strikes, and the community is left huddling in the dark.

 Trapped inside the house she once called home, Ann Brooks must make life-or-death decisions in an environment where opening a door to a neighbor could threaten all the things she holds dear. Carla Buckley’s poignant debut raises important questions to which there are no easy answers, in an emotionally riveting tale of one family facing unimaginable stress.

Interestingly enough this book was written in 2010.

Dreaming about ... 

(source)

Cottage Gardens . . .   


  
(source)  

Apple pie  . . . 


(source)  

Sunflowers  . . . 


(source)  


"She" sheds  . . . . 


(source)  


Fresh fruit  . . . 


Something to watch ... 


Alfred Hitchcock Presents on YouTube. There's always an interesting twist.  We enjoy these. 

 Makes me smile ... 


I could not find the source  . . . 


Corners of my kingdom ... 

  

Tenby Pembrokeshire  A harbour town and resort in southwest Wales.  

A thought to carry with you ... 

° * 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ •
•。★★ 。* 。
° 。 ° ˛˚˛ * _Π_____*。*˚
˚ ˛ •˛•˚ */______/~\。˚ ˚ ˛
˚ ˛ •˛• ˚ | 田田 |門 ★

 *
In peace I will lie down asleep,
for you alone Lord, make me
secure. ~Psalm 4:9•。★★ 。* 。 



And that's my daybook for this week!



  ⋱ ⋮ ⋰
⋯ ◯ ⋯ Take time to enjoy the small *´¯`.¸¸.☆

  ⋰ ⋮ ⋱ blessings in life.*´¯`.¸¸.☆ 

 


✿¸.•*¨`*•..✿✿¸.•*¨`*•..✿ ✿¸.•*¨`*•..¸✿ ✿¸.•*¨`*•..¸✿ ✿¸.• ╬♥═╬╬═♥=╬╬═♥╬╬═♥╬╬═♥=╬╬♥═╬♥╬╬═♥╬╬═♥=╬╬♥
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Have a beautiful day! Be safe and don't forget!   
 
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And I do too!     
      




Monday, 13 July 2020

Small and Wonderful Things . . .

 
 
 
"The world is fairly studded and strewn with pennies cast broadside from a generous hand. But who gets excited by a mere penny?...It is dire poverty indeed when a man is so malnourished and fatigued that he won't stoop to pick up a penny. But if you cultivate a healthy poverty and simplicity, so that finding a penny will literally make your day, then, since the world is in fact planted with pennies, you have with your poverty bought a lifetime of days. It is that simple. what you see is what you get." ~Anne Dillard   

 
A few of the small and wonderful things which bring untold joy into my life.   It's the small things in life which truly mean the most.  Simple abundance . . . it's the best.    
 
 
 
I had enough sour dough discard to bake the sour dough sandwich bread from the cookbook Hope's Table by Hope Helmuth.  She's a Mennonite and has the blog  Hopeful Things.  the bread turned out beautiful.  Sour Dough Sandwich Bread. It has a lovely texture and Todd can eat it. (Dentures make it difficult for him to eat regular sour dough.) 
 
 
 
I know I shouldn't have done it on a Sunday but wanted to wash the bed linen's while the sun was shining. We had a rare for July dry day yesterday so changed the beds so I could wash and hang out the sheets.  Otherwise they end up being draped over the doors all over the house for days until dried. Plus they smell so much nicer when done outdoors.  Back to the rain this morning however. 
 
  
 
Summer fruits.  This weekend we have enjoyed strawberries (not tired of them yet!), cherries and blueberries. Bring on the raspberries and blackberries!  Our bushes are loaded with ripening fruit if the slugs don't get them first! 
 
 
   
 
The way the light plays through the windows this time of year, bathing everything in gold . . . 


 
No holidays away this year.  Holidays spent at home doing things together as a family like washing the truck. So grateful for a son who shares snippets of his life and the boys with me. 
 
 

 
Making pancakes at the weekend.  Family traditions continuing down through the generations. This makes me happy. They're busy making memories.  

 
  
 
 
This girl of mine who makes the effort to talk to me every single day.  I hope she knows it means the world to me. When my girls were small I hoped that one day we would be more than just mother/daughter, that we would be friends like I was with my own mother.  I am grateful for this easy friendship I have with this lovely daughter of mine. 
 
 
  
 
This picture just made me smile  . . . . sometimes knowing when to be quiet is the best and safest thing. 
 
I was deeply saddened this morning to read of the death of John Travolta's wife Kelly Preston of Breast Cancer at the age of only 57. They had been married 29 years I believe. Having lost their oldest son a few years back, this must be such a sad and heartbreaking time for him.  I have always liked John Travolta.  Since his early sweat-hog days on Welcome Back Kotter. I think he is a very talented man and he seems very genuine and nice. Of course I could be wrong, but  . . .  what do I know.  Anyways, I just feel sad for him and his family.  
 
A thought to carry with you  . . . 

° * 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ •
•。★★ 。* 。
° 。 ° ˛˚˛ * _Π_____*。*˚
˚ ˛ •˛•˚ */______/~\。˚ ˚ ˛
˚ ˛ •˛• ˚ | 田田 |門 ★

 *
If you feel like you  are losing everything,
remember that  trees lose all their leaves 
every year and still they stand tall and
wait for better days to come. •。★★ 。* 。 
 
 
 
I downsized one of my favourite casseroles this weekend. Amish Country Casserole.  Turned out great!  Delicious! 
 
 
Hope your week ahead is filled with small and wonderful things.  Along the way, don't forget!  


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And I do too!     Stay safe! 
   

 
 
 

Sunday, 12 July 2020

Just being alive . . .


It's bread and jam and a pot of tea
With someone you love for company,
A fire for chilly nights, a chair,
And radio music sounding there;
A sense of home and familiar things
An old back porch where a cricket sings. 


  

Its not asking much, just a place to stay,
A quiet bed at the end of day,
A friend to drop in for a litle chat,
Gossiping over this and that;
A game of checkers or dominoes,
And a small wood fire that softly glows.


It's dreams in your heart, deep down inside,
Clean living, decent, a bit of pride
In the little town and the people there,
The church and the store that you sort of share,
The crazy sidewalk, the yew-tree's shade,
The little First-of-July parade. 


  

It's bread and butter and simple things,
Tears and laughter and wedding rings,
A birth in the house, a death next door,
Sunlight falling upon the floor;
A child to love when the day is done,
Just being alive . . . is such splendid fun.
~Edna Jaques 

As I copied this poem out here this morning my mind went back to a simpler time. A time when life was unfettered by social media, and the internet . . . when we only had two, maximum three channels on our television sets. When we had to get up to walk across the room to change the channel. When mornings were accompanied by the sound of local radio and the smell of burnt toast. When mother's chatted across laundry hanging on clotheslines and on Sundays, the air was pierced by the sound of church bells as everyone donned their Sunday-best and met together to worship in unity. 

When a story of tragedy was met with "What can we do for you." When you knew your neighbour's names, and their children's names and their parent's names, and theirs before theirs . . . with a line of continuity in the community which had travelled down through the generations . . . when elm trees arched over the streets and met in the middle . . .  


When you messed up at school, you knew you'd be in for it at home. When the words "Wait til your father gets home," meant something. When children had fathers and knew their names, and had grandparents and Aunts and Uncles and Cousins. When you went out the door in the morning and played all day only coming home and into the house for mealtimes and bedtime. 

When gameplay meant playing hide and seek and  red-rover and marbles and skipping and dodgeball, and all the kids in the neighbourhood played together beneath everyone's watchful eyes. When there were community picnics and Sunday school picnics.  When you could spend an hour sucking all the colour from your popsicle and then crunch on the ice left behind. There was always someone's mom who made homemade popsicles and the hardest thing you had to remember was to bring back the little plastic holder when you were done.  And we enjoyed cool-aid in coloured metal glasses. It was pure sugar and artifically flavoured and coloured, but no-one cared that it was. It was wet and refreshing.  


Bread and butter sprinkled with sugar. Sticks of rhubarb that made your cheeks ache.  Wild berries that stained your hands and your teeth. Catching grasshoppers and keeping them in a jar with holes punched into the lid with a nail and plenty of grass for them to eat. Wishing on a thousand dreams with one breath blown against fluff.  A yellow bloom beneath the chin determined whether you liked butter or not. Running barefoot through the grass.  It felt so cool beneath the toes. Carefree days, days of innocence. You fell into bed tired at the end of them. Time seemed to stand still. But before you knew it they were gone . . . 

We have many things to be grateful for these days. Instant communication at our fingertips. Untold entertainments. Timesaving gadgets. Widescreen televisions and more channels to watch than you can singularly cope with. We can sit and dine on food from China, and Italy and India and the Middle East. We can eat Strawberries in January.  All our apples come from afar . . . we never get to taste the ones grown in our own back yard . . .  they get shipped off to Timbuctoo. 

They call it progress, but is it really?  Somethings are better for sure, but many things . . .  I just miss and long for.  It was a simpler time, and in many ways it was the best of times . . .  but Edna's right. Its just great to be alive.

A thought to carry with you . . .  

° * 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ •
•。★★ 。* 。
° 。 ° ˛˚˛ * _Π_____*。*˚
˚ ˛ •˛•˚ */______/~\。˚ ˚ ˛
˚ ˛ •˛• ˚ | 田田 |門 ★

 *
Forgive others, 
not because they deserve it,
but because you deserve peace.
~jonathan lockwood huie•。★★ 。* 。 




In The English Kitchen today  . . .  Golden Syrup Puddings. Old-fashioned deliciousness.  

Have a great Sunday. No matter what you get up to, don't forget  . . . 

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And I do too!