I was a big fan of Country Living magazine for many years. In fact, for a very long time I had every issue saved, about ten years worth. It was a wrench to let them go . . . but eventually I did. I loved each issue and Victoria magazine as well.
I loved these little glimpses into other people's homes and lives. I thought the decorating was superb. Everything perfect, nothing out of place, all matching and in order . . . inside and out. Impeccable really . . . and quite impossible for someone like me to attain. My homes are always clean, but someone definitely lives here . . . and much to Todd's chagrin, it isn't Mrs Neat-Nik! After all . . . aren't homes meant to be lived it?
Sometimes though, I find these decor experts a bit irritating and assuming. Not everyone has the budget in order to achieve the looks they are presenting . . . I would rather see something which I could attain, or that was cheaply and easily doable. Mayhap I need to start my own decor magazine . . . but what would I call it??? Trailor Trash Chic? haha, it's not that bad, but it did sound funny. I wonder if it will ever catch on.
I also love to look at table settings. One of the things I loved most about my job at the Manor was being able to set the table for the dinner parties and luncheons. Of course there was no end to the materials available for use, with there being several sets of silver and a multitude of dinner sets, silver goblets, crystal glassware, etc. In my house you have two choices . . . every day and occasion best . . . make that three when you count the two mismatched plates we use most of the time. There is no silver, or plate chargers, etc. I guess we are just lucky to have plates. We live in a world far removed from that wonderland I worked in. I do love to keep up with tablescapes on Pinterest and different blogs though . . . dreaming never did cost a penny.
At this time of year . . . early Spring, when anything can and does happen weather-wise. In fact today, here . . . where it only ever very seldom snows at all . . . it is snowing. Cherry trees bloom . . . and snow falls. I often empathize with Thoreau, living his solitary life in a hut by Walden Pond . . . impatient with the busy-ness of life which creates days that are ending no sooner than they are beginning.
"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived."
I think we often rush about too much, keeping to schedules and busying up our days. I prefer whimsically haphazard days . . . much like this blog is meant to be. Like life I never know for sure really what I am going to write about each morning when I sit down at the computer. My words kind of unfold from the tips of my fingertips and that is how my days go . . . they kind of unfold before me, and . . . except for appointments which must be kept . . . the magic and the mystery of the unfolding of each day is like a gift I give myself.
Life is far too short to live it in a box or any prescribed way . . . I am here to listen to the music, and to dance and to sing . . . to find poetry in simplicity . . . to enjoy the small things, little gifts and tiny moments . . . for in reality . . . life is not about the big things at all, but in the small and simple little things that become the fabric of each and every day. They are that which count the most of all . . .
The joy comes not in matching plates and chargers, silver or gold . . . beautifully decorated rooms and gardens . . . with not a hair out of place or any disorder of any kind. Joy comes in being real and being now . . . joy comes in just being, and breathing it all in, the magic of each day as it unfolds before us.
"Come what may and love it."
~Joseph B Wirthlin
A little painting that I did on Wednesday afternoon. I was in a fairy mood. I quite like the boots. I always do . . . fairy boots are special indeed.
And then yesterday this came out. Like my writing on this blog each morning, I never know who is going to appear from my mind and fingertips when I sit down to paint. I am always very surprised!
Yesterdays Silver Lining . . . a special gathering at our chapel of the lady folk and a presentation of words and photographs given to us of the Saviors life by one who had walked where the Savior walked. Very fitting for this time of year when Easter-tide is only a few days away. Did you know that the word "Gethsemane" means Olive Press? And that in an olive press they only press a few olives at a time . . . so that they can crush each olive fully, getting every scrap of goodness from it that they can individually get?? The heavy stone grinding, crushing . . . extracting all that it can from each tiny olive beneath it's weight. It would not be possible were the press full to over flowing. And then when you think of what the Savior did in the garden of Gethsemane on the night before his arrest . . . sweat dripping like blood from every pore and He took upon himself the sins of the world . . . crushed fully, giving up every scrap of His goodness, for us. Most profound . . . and meaningful . . .
A thought to carry with you through today . . .
"The smallest good deed is better than the grandest good intention."
~Duguet
Cooking in The English Kitchen today . . . Bean and Sausage Hot Pot. Deliciously economical.
Can it be Friday already? Is that possible?? Hope your day is a good one!
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