Grasshopper Lane

the recipe box - June Rose Cake

The first recipe we pulled out of the box was for a lucious looking cake topped with pink, fluffy icing.  The advertisng for the recipe touts it as being the perfect birthday cake for a girl or a bride-to-be.  The recipe, from Swans Down Flour, was printed in a magazine.  I wish I could tell you for sure what year but when researching this particular recipe, there was not much to be found.   If you can tell me more about it, I'd love for you to email me.

It took two tries to get this one made.  My kitchen is at the very end of the Purge, Fluff & Renew list so things are not quite back in order.  The first attempt was using my 9" professional pans.  They are a bit deeper and brushed aluminum.  Since the parchment paper was no where to be found, I opted to just grease the pan.  The hubby thought the cake was wonderful.....even though he had to dig it out of the pan with a spatula.

The second attempt was a success.  I splurged on new cake pans....non-stick.  The rounds popped right out of the pans onto the racks with no problem.  And my kitchen smelled amazing.  Now, the recipe called for butter or shortening.  Because I wanted to stay with a white cake, I used shortening.  I did, however, stay with the Swan's Down Cake Flour.  Yes, you really must use cake flour.  It will give you a lighter, fluffier cake.  I store my extra in the freezer to keep it fresh.  Just remember to let it warm up to room temperature the next time you want to use it.

The icing is amazing.  I believe I described as little pink clouds of fluff on Facebook.  Think marshmallow meets strawberry.  I don't recall ever making 7-minute nor 4-minute frosting before.  The directions though were clear enough that I knew I was basically making a heated meringue.  Now, I iced the cake the night before these pictures were taken.  (I apologize for the lightening....our weather....one second sun, the next clouds.)  The icing got sticky over-night.  I would wait to frost the cake til right before you served it.  I'm also thinking that rather than strawberries, which are not really in season right now, I might try some of my homemade strawberry jam next time. 

This one is definitely a keeper!  A printable copy is over on the right or you can click here:  http://www.grasshopperlanedesigns.com/June%20Rose%20Cake.pdf.  The table is set - who wants to come sit and chat over a steaming cup of rose tea and a huge slice of June Rose cake?

enjoy!

jen

 

the recipe box

Recently a sweet friend of mine decided, like me, to purge, fluff & renew.   She has been kind enough to gift me with some luscious vintage treasures that included paper dolls, old greeting cards and a wedding dress that she assures me that I can cut apart without anyone being upset.  So much that I can’t even begin to list it all.  I can’t thank her enough.   I’ve spent hours gazing at all the vintage goodness on my counter.   I can’t wait to start using it in upcoming projects.  Today though, I wanted to tell you about a special box that was nestled down under the embroidered pillow cases.  When I pulled it from the crate I was sure that the beautiful cardboard box would be filled, much like the one’s my mom has given me, with lace handkerchiefs.  When I opened the box I let loose a squeal that I’m sure was heard by my neighbors.  My hubby, who had been on a chair taping a wall in the bathroom, came running to make sure I hadn’t damaged anything.   Imagine my surprise –

 

 

A box filled with recipes, both handwritten and cut from magazines and newspapers, dating back to the 1930’s.   Recipe’s that I can remember my mom making.  Recipe’s that I remember David’s Grandma making.   Goosebumps people!!   The box has made a trip to the lake and my Mom’s house so we could look through each recipe.  It’s now resting in its special spot, under glass, in my workroom.   I asked Ms. Julie about the origin of these fabulous pieces of paper and here’s what she told me –

Her Grandmother, Mabel, came to live with them after being widowed in 1967.  She would have been about 75.  Julie’s family had transferred to Mid-Missouri shortly after that in 1968.  Like most families in that day it was common for grandparents to live with their children.   Ms. Julie’s mom was working outside of the home at that time so her grandmother helped with the chores and prepared the meals.  Unfortunately the recipe box didn’t originate with her grandmother.  A family friend spied them at an auction one day and thought that Grandma might want it to look through them.  So, while Grandma didn’t actually write them or cut them out, she did prepare yummy goodies from them.  In my book, that’s close enough to it being hers.   

By now, you know that I’m from another place in time….the older the better.  And I’m a true believer in learning something new every day so I thought it would be fun to share these recipes with you.  A couple of times a month, I’ll have hubby pull a recipe out of the box…..a main dish, side dish, jam, relish or dessert.  There were even some recipes for cleaning supplies.  Whatever he pulls, we’ll make and then post both a picture, how it all turned out and both the original recipe and then a printable recipe so you can try them.    Watch for the first recipe, a dessert, later this week –

 

Enjoy!

j

Five

(5)

Evvie-Lou must have come directly from her shift at the diner – still sporting her tie-dye and that blonde pony that followed her in the door.  Before she could speak the pony tail started talking.

“I came to help.”  Evvie-Lou started, “I figure you for a very stubborn sort but truth of the matter is you need help.” 

Still unable to apply her voice to the conversation she watched as Evvie-Lou shoved the cardboard box of cleaning supplies to the side and dropped a brown paper bag on the table in its place.   She then held out a bright green tissue wrapped bouquet of flowers.  Lilacs, some of her favorite blooms, in the most marvelous shade of purple.  She once worked with a lady that had given her some starts off of her lilac bush.  “An Heirloom Lilac” she was reminded every time Ms. E passed her in the hallway.  She would never forget the time she went up to see the “gardens”.  Over an acre patch filled with ancient old walnut trees and a house just as old.  The land held plants scattered with no rhyme or reason, all in bloom.  Ms. E. would point to a particular plant and say that it just felt right to put it there that day so she pulled up her lawn chair and there she planted.  That visit had left her a bit envious because she could only hope for the faith in knowing that something would bloom just where you planted it.

“My momma always said never show up empty-handed and you should always have fresh flowers for the table” Evvie-Lou said. 

“Moms are generally right about those things.  Very thoughtful.  Thank you.”  She sat the spray bottle she had been using on the counter under the window sill, wiped her hands off on the legs of her jeans and then took the flowers from Evvie-Lou.  “Uhm….”  She replied.  Feeling a bit shy, she quickly turned and began searching the cabinets in search of something to hold them.  There, in the cabinet next to the sink was a beautiful, white, ironstone pitcher.  There was a tiny chip in the pour spot.  Just enough of a chip to cause the pitcher to splatter when poured.   She guessed it had been left behind because of its flawed appearance.  To her it was perfect, chippiness made her feel right at home. She filled the pitcher full of water and set it on the counter.  She would let it sit for just a bit before adding the flowers.  Water too cold or too hot would shock them and they wouldn’t last very long.  She made another mental note to grab an aspirin from her purse to add as well.  She could hear her new friend behind her rummaging in the paper sack and just ask she turned back around Evvie-Lou pulled out a can of spray paint.  She smiled.  The can sported a very bright pink top.  She could see the look of determination in Evvie-Lou’s face. 

“This place needs brightening up if you want people to stay here.  I still say the picnic tables need to be bright pink.”  She put her hand up to stop her from commenting.  “Now, I’ve been marinating on this whole campground business.  You need a catchy name like “The Pink Flamingo” and each site needs some kind of theme and color scheme to match.  Just think, when a reservation comes in, you could assign them ……”

Evvie-Lou rambled on and on and on and when she finally came up for air, she replied “No Flamingoes.”  Images of another time suddenly flood back to her leaving her somewhere between hysterics and nausea.  Oh, she could totally rock a good flamingo bash.  But those were times when things done out of silliness suddenly became the backwards talk of others and often reminded you that you would never truly fit in.  “Ugh!”  She quickly pushed those images out of the way.  She grinned and shook her head in amusement at Evvie-Lou.  “All good ideas.  But, the cabin needs to be cleaned up before I can think about the other stuff.”  Taking advantage of Evvie-Lou’s determination to help she asked, “How do you feel about cleaning bathrooms?”

Without missing a beat Evvie-Lou shot her a dead pan look and quickly volleyed back “Where’s the toilet brush?”

They worked together the rest of the afternoon getting the kitchen in order and the bathroom free from any critters.  Questions and answers from each other battered back and forth between the rooms.  Casual getting to know you time, with each of them offering just a tiny glimpse of their story.  She had been giving the old stove a healthy dose of Comet and elbow grease when she heard the screech and a loud stomp followed by “Oh! Don’t you worry. It wasn’t a very big one.”  Curling her toes up in her sneakers and grimacing a bit, she offered up a silent prayer of thanks for the help that her new friend had offered. 

Later in the evening, after Evvie-Lou had left, she sat quietly out on the sea wall watching the sunset.   She looked back over the day’s events – from her determination to keep to herself to suddenly having a new friend.  “Friend”, she thought surprisingly.  How had that happened? 

 

(I wrote this early last week but hadn't had time to proof and post.  Puttering around in one of my favorite antique stores - I found  the treasured ironstone pitcher....complete with the chippie pour spout.  Fate?  Definitely out of my budget - I walked away twice and then I discovered the blue/white enamel serving platter that made it all perfect.  It just had to come home with me.  It will be filled with Lilacs as soon as mine bloom.)

enjoy!

jen

Purge, Fluff & Renew….Why?

 

I quit making New Year’s resolutions a long time ago – kind of like the “Whole 30” diet plan – they generally last about a half a day and we’ve moved on.  Several years ago I adopted the idea of choosing a word that either defined what I wanted my year to look like or was something I wanted to work towards.  That seems to work better for me.  No broken promises, no guilt and each day is a new chance to work on that word.   Past years have included the words SIMPLIFY, DONE, & STRENGTH.   This year I chose the word HOME – you can read the original post here (http://www.grasshopperlanedesigns.com/grasshopper_lane/2015/01/one-little-word-2015.html).  I want to spend the next 12 months experiencing all the things that are associated with that word including reclaiming my HOME.   If you follow me on Facebook or Instagram, you’ve seen the weekly quotes – all of which mention some form of HOME.   I think everyone should learn something new each day and trust me I’m learning lots on this journey.   

One might wonder (and several have) why I’m working so hard to get several projects done in such a short time.  I allotted January to deal with the three rooms in our house that needed the most attention.  and, yes, I realize it's now February.  I’m not sure how it works in your all’s households but in mine – if I don’t strike while the iron is hot – it ain’t happening.  The work that we’ve been doing is all stuff that has been put off for the past few years because I refused to deal with some major “life” events that took place.  Sometimes it’s easier to put everything in a Rubbermaid container and close the door.  Eventually there is so much stuff behind that door that it just comes tumbling out when you open it.  Trust me when I say that while most days I am a few bubbles to the left of center – I have not totally lost it.   And, while it might seem from a few of my FB posts that I am a bit overwhelmed

 

Yesterday’s Facebook Post:

 

Week 6 purge, fluff, renew….remember hos 8 legged critters winter in the spare bedroom…the one room that’s 98% done?  They also apparently hatch babies there too.  All over the chenille bedspread I washed last weekend.  Oy!!   Painting bathroom this morning.  Not only do I seriously dislike the color…those durn pink and blue flowers refuse to be covered…not good for someone with mild OCD.  Either is hugging a toilet trying to paint behind it.  I must finish….I must finish…..

 

I’m not going to let a few….okay….a lot of eight legged critters – keep me from finishing the tasks at hand.  But pink and blue flowers that refuse to be covered,  curtain rod’s falling off the wall in the middle of the night,  bowling balls that roll themselves to the middle of the living room floor when you’re not looking are all just a part of the “normal” in our household.    Things like that happen so often that “Only in our House” is actually a category on my blog.   I have to share because I need someone to laugh with me.  I really am enjoying this journey HOME and I have learned a lot about myself in the past six weeks.  Most importantly I’ve learned to let go of a few things  and that laughter really is the best medicine.    I’ve also learned to deal with a hubby that chose STRAIGHT FORWARD for his word(s) this year…….it's good that he loves me! 

 

Enjoy!

Jen

Four

(4)

The hand-written note on the cabin door read – “You have water & power – try not to enjoy them together.  Signed, you’re friendly utility person.”  The graphic on the card showed a charred, grinning stick person.  She chuckled.   She wished she’d have been here to put a face with that witty prose.  Balancing the cardboard box of supplies on her hip, she grabbed the note, stuck it under her chin and nudged the door open.  She threw a cursory glance over her shoulder at the powder room.  Channeling a message to any creepy critter within hearing distance she let them know they had another day of reprieve.  This afternoon she would focus her attention on the tiny kitchen.  She couldn’t help but be excited having utilities meant real food and not just something questionable warmed from a can.  Thinking back to her meal the day before, bacon does NOT make everything better.  Fixing a meal on that old stove almost made her giddy with anticipation.  Nudging the red vinyl chair out of her way, she sat the box down on the well-loved enamel table.  Very much like the one she had tried to talk her mom out of, it was white with a red stripe around the edge.  She looked around for the fourth chair but it was not to be found.  She would add that to her list making a mental reminder to find out where all the good junk stores were.  Before she forgot, she tucked the note into the back pocket of her worn, holey jeans.  She would put that away in her journal later sure that it would bring as much of a smile then as it had when she found it. 

One of the perks to purchasing this old cabin was that the previous owner had left behind numerous vintage items. Each time she opened a cabinet or a drawer, she found a new treasure.  She turned the handle on the old faucet. It sputtered to life and spit the rusty contents from years of disuse out. As she waited for it to run clear, she pulled an old wash basin from the shelf above the sink – Robin’s Egg blue with a thin red stripe around the rim.  The sight of that old basin transported her to another kitchen, when she was younger, filled with these old treasures.  She relished the time her then BFF and her spent at her grandfather’s farm. Hours and hours spent walking the creek line and catching crawdads.  Such ornery little creatures.  Of course there were never enough for a meal and she couldn’t imagine either mother being excited about a bag of mudbugs brought home to the kitchen sink.  She could remember helping buck hay and being distracted by the idea of finding the big black snake up in the hay loft.  They never found anything other than hints that he’d been there and looking back at it now, she was pretty sure the two of them would have run willie-nillie if it poked its head out.  Her favorite memory though was after the hay had been cut.  They would climb to the top of the biggest hill in front of the little house, lay on their sides and race to see who could roll the fastest.  Each of them looked like little round bales by the time they got to the bottom.  BFF’s aunt would call them in, admonish them for getting all messed up and then present them with a store bought treat (She was not the domestic sort, if you know what I mean). But a treat was a treat!  We ate from a paper napkin because it wouldn’t do to break a piece of Great Grandma’s china.  Her memory today focused on the old wash basin, much like this one, sitting on a little tea towel at the side of the old white farm sink.  She could still picture that little white house and the old red barn.  She had always dreamed of having a little parlor with a fireplace and a beautiful, homey kitchen.  She had that in this little cabin.  Well, no walls other than “that bathroom” but still.  It would be her own little white house.  Maybe she would even paint the old cement building Barn Red.

She was wiping down the kitchen window with old newspapers and some vinegar, dreaming about apple pie and curtain panels blowing in the breeze, when the screen door slammed behind her.  She jumped and quickly turned around.  There, standing in her kitchen grinning like a Cheshire Cat was Evvie-Lou.  She backed up and glanced up the hill wondering how she hadn’t heard someone pull in.  There, parked just up the lane from the cabin, sat a sunshine yellow Volkswagen Beetle….complete with a set of eyelashes….closed now because the engine had been turned off.  She grinned and shook her head.  She wouldn’t imagine that Evvie-Lou drove anything but. 

 

(I must laugh at some of the questions that have come from this little deal.....my answer remains.....it's all in my head.....where it really probably should have stayed -)

enjoy!

jen

Three

(3)

Breakfast had been amazing though she had eaten less than half.  After a few bites and some random sketching her imagination had taken over and, as her friends would say, “She-gone.”  Her plate had been pushed to the edge of the table.  Her tea cup, less than half full, had been pushed to the side.  There were a few paint samples spread over the top of her open sketch book.  She had been twirling her tooth-marked pencil between her fingers and starring out the window when the incessant tapping of a long, neon green polka-dotted fingernail on the scarred Formica brought her back from the land she had been lost in.   She put the pencil down and quickly hid her nail-bitten fingers beneath the table, “What?” she asked, just in case there had been words to go with the tapping nail.

Evvie-Lou smiled at her, popped the top off of her pop bottle, quickly caught the metal cap in her hand, and plopped it down on the scarred Formica.  She scooted into the booth across from her.   “Pink” she bubbled excitedly.  “Whatever you are fixing to paint should be pink.  And,” she grinned again “…. a bright, happy pink at that.” 

That ponytail on the back of Evvie-Lou’s head seemed to have a life of its own,  rocking side to side, dancing to its own music as she scooched around getting herself settled for what was apparently going to be that “I Want To Know Everything” conversation.

She couldn’t help it, it was almost as if the pony had hypnotized her.  “Picnic Tables” she said quietly.

Evvie-Lou leaned forward, pony bouncing, and arched her eyebrow, “Do what, huh?”

No longer able to ignore the bubbly enthusiasm of the gal sitting across the booth from her, she gave in….just a little.   “I said” smiling shyly, “I’m painting picnic tables.”

Evie-Lou gave her a long, curious look and then pointed and wiggled a finger at her.  “You must be the little gal that bought the old campground property out west of town.”

She nodded her head in a “yes, believe it it’s true” fashion, smiled just a little more and answered “Yes.”

The wagging finger pointed at her suddenly turned to a hand reaching out towards her.  “Eugenia Louise Broadwater.  Folks call me Evvie-Lou.  You want to know what’s what around here, you come find me.”  Waiting expectantly, she finally prompted “You are?”

She reached to shake the hand that had been extended towards her, trying hard to remember the drill, and replied.  “Joe.”

“Joe??”  Evvie-Lou, eye-brow again raised, questioned. 

She gave a vague tilt of her head and nodded.  “Yes…Joe.”  It was funny how that name had come about.  Of course, her name wasn’t really Joe but she rarely used that except to sign checks and such.  She had inherited the name with an old, over-sized fleece jacket that, with her small stature, just about swallowed her up when she wore it.  It was warm.  The way it covered everything was perfect for those days when she craved invisibility from the world.  The jacket came with a patch sewn over the left breast proclaiming, in flowy cursive, the mechanic’s name to be “Joe”.  Her co-workers, always commenting on how she “fixed” things, quickly adopted it as her nickname and she’d been “Joe” ever since.

“Well…Joe”, Evvie-Lou said loudly, “Folks are wondering what you’re planning on doing with that fine property you’ve purchased.”

She could feel the silence.  The eyes of the other diners were all on her.  She could feel them lean in towards her …”I’m turning it back into a campground.”  She replied.  The buzz immediately started around her.  The gerbil’s in the gossip mill running just as fast as they could.  Well, she sighed, that should give them something to talk about. 

Slightly taken back by what she heard, Evvie-Lou lowered her voice enough so that folks couldn’t hear her, “That’s been sitting vacant for a while.  Not much left is there?  Last time I was by that way there was just a ridiculously old building and a cabin.  It’s going to take a lot of work to get that up and going.  It’s not just you, is it?  You have help, right?  Are you sure about this?”

Shuffling the pages of her sketchbook to avoid eye-contact, “I like old things, it has good bones and yes…..I’m doing it on my own.” She replied. 

Again with the eyebrow, Evvie-Lou replied “Ok….if you say so…..I still say you’re going to need a lot of help!”

“No,” she stubbornly replied “I can do it on my own” By then she had noticed that the dynamics in the room had changed.  No longer was there waiting silence.  She looked around – folks seemed to be hurriedly finishing up their coffee and heading to the register.  Apparently she had given them enough to send them on their way.

Evie-Lou, eyed her closely, “Oh, don’t mind them.” as she brushed her hand in the air.  “They’ll make up the rest of it.”  Giggling, she continued “I can’t wait to hear what they all come up with.  By the end of the day you’ll have had your five minutes of fame and your little spot will be the new home to a colony of Martian rabbits that you’re training to drive tractors and backhoes or some such thing.  Wait?”  She exclaimed “You aren’t planning on building a colony of Martian rabbits are you?” 

She couldn’t help but chuckle.  “No,” she assured her.  “No Martian Rabbits.”  But, she thought to herself, she had bitten off a lot with this project, she certainly wouldn’t say no to a little inter-galactic help getting the campground back up and running.  She would have to write about this in her journal later.  They spent the rest of the morning chatting.  Well, Evie-Lou mostly chatted…almost as if they’d been friends for life.  She had learned more than she probably wanted to like the fact that Evvie-Lou had moved here after her third attempt at love –“Men!”, she had exclaimed, “Who needs them?” 

She had also learned that Evvie-Lou, after bouncing over to the counter to grab a colorfully iced cupcake, had a secret dream to open up her own bakery.  The admitted town gossip filled her in on all the comings and goings of town and the who’s who.  An interesting trip to town this morning to say the least.  On the drive back to the campground she again thought to herself – that gal certainly had herself a little adventure going.  She had to chuckle….craziness.  Some days she missed those kinds of friendships – silly girls chattering about everything.  Nothing was secret or sacred.  You could always count on each other.   There had been a few like that at one time….they rarely kept in touch these days…..busy schedules, family, better offers always seemed to get in the way.   She found, with each new season that passed, sometimes talking things over with dresser she was distressing or giving needed praise of handsomeness to the door she was trying to coax in place was easier than actually chatting it up with a real person.  There were no assumptions to be had when you chatted with inanimate objects.  But…..her visit with Evvie-Lou this morning had left her craving just a bit of……well, something.

 

 

(just a reminder....it's fiction....and before you call the writing police on me....it's been a long time since I've written diaglogue.  Just read the story and skip through the poopie formatting.)

enjoy!

jen

Two

(2)

Crawling out of her little home on wheels (a 1967 Shasta w/wings) at day break, she watched the purples merge into oranges with bright yellow rays just peeking over the top.  She could definitely get used to the sunrises here.  Later she would venture into town for supplies.  But first, a steaming mug of tea in her hand, she wandered down towards the lake.  The water was gently slapping against the shoreline…..she was reminded of a long ago family outing, one where she was playing with her brother on the beach.  Much like a puppy craving attention, she followed him everywhere and was usually involved somehow in the mischief of the day, mischief that was generally aimed at her rather than with her.  That day involved bottle rockets and an old glass soda bottle.  She still sported a tiny scar on her shin.   Silly boy, she could still hear him re-assuring here that everything was totally cool.  Goodness she missed him and those mischievous moments.  She wished there had more of them.  But, enough of times past, the loud rumbling of her stomach snapped her back to the present – time to head into town, grab a bite and pick up supplies.

 

She pulled the truck into an empty spot in front of the town diner – the bright pink neon sign flashed “Breakfast All Day” – her tummy roared with anticipation.    The place was tiny, just four or five booths and seating at the counter.  Being the newbie in town, curious eyes followed her as she entered and made her way to the booth in the back.   No stranger to being on her own, she had brought her planner and sketchbook to make eating alone a little less awkward.    Glancing at the faded menu, she noted a favorite from her childhood….cream of tuna on white bread….nothing could beat that salty, creamy deliciousness except, maybe,  an exceptional order of biscuits and gravy.  Glancing around the room, it was  like she had been transported back in time.  The tables, with their vintage turquoise Formica, sported the stains of the past, perhaps coffee or tea bumped over by an excited child reaching for a bite off mom’s plate.  She assumed her waitress would be sporting the old time mustard colored polyester dress, support hose and sensible shoes…much like those in the beloved sitcom her parents used to watch.  She quickly masked the look of surprise when the waitress, a gal her age, appeared wearing a tie-dyed t-shirt, jeans and sporting a very bouncy blonde pony.  The name tag pinned to her t-shirt proudly proclaimed her, in multiple colors of  glitter pen, as “Evvie-Lou”.  She quieted a chuckle and placed her order.  She would bet her breakfast that there was a story there but, she wasn’t one to get close to anyone.  Not these days anyway.  Ignoring the whispers and the curious over-the-shoulder glances, she opened up her sketchbook and began to put together the plan for her six campsites.  She would need to have the wiring checked, new gravel poured and the well loved picnic tables repaired and brightened up with a coat of paint.   She was pouring over the paint samples when Evvie-Lou appeared a few minutes later with a plate of biscuits the size of softballs smothered in sausage gravy.  The smell of sage and pepper made her mouth water in anticipation and she couldn’t wait to take her first bite.  Evvie-Lou, shifting back and forth at the side of the table, waiting for her to look up, gave her that “I want to know EVERYTHING” wink and announced loud enough that everyone could hear, that she’d be back to chat in a few.  Oh bother!  She knew the type.  A “Nosy Nellie”…..the well-intentioned, or so you’d think, in your business and spreading it to anyone that had three minutes, kind of person.  She’d been here before.  Muttering under her breath, she reminded herself of the drill…vaguely answer only what is asked, keep it simple and don’t volunteer anything.  Well, she sighed, maybe she could round up a little support for the campground.  

(note:  some memories shared could be mine....some could be a fig newton of my imagination....either way....they are in no way directed towards or about anyone so don't take it personal....or take....well, you get the idea.)

enjoy!

jen

One Little Word 2015

 

 

One Little Word – HOME

One Little Verse – “Peace be within your walls and security within your towers." Psalms 122:7

Peace….finding my center….feeling secure at the end of a very long day, week, year.  It’s time – I crave it with all of my being – to just be Home.  The strength I found within myself in 2014 has given me the courage to be able to say no….to say yes…and to be comfortable in my decision to just stay home.

 

What One Little Word will you focus on this year?  I’d love for you to share….

 

jen

One Little Word 2014

One Little Word - Strength

One Little Verse - "Have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest"  Joshua 1:9

Be strong and of good courage.....one breath, one moment, one step, one day at a time.....remember that there is "Someone" else driving the bus and he's got way more points left on his drivers license than the rest of us.  It's time to move forward, past all of the Doneness of 2013. 

What One Little Word will you focus on this year?  I'd love for you to share.....

jen

 
  

Hi Guys!!!

I apologize for being a HUGE bummer and not getting my blog updated.  We ran into some problems with spam, email invasion, etc.  I'm hoping that I finally have all of those issues fixed.  Unfortunately, because of the issues we've encountered, I am going to have to change the way comments work.....you will now have to sign in and all comments will have to be approved by me before they will show under my posts.  I know....I know.....what a HUGE pain.  I don't get alot comments, and I LOVE hearing from folks, but that seems to be where this all began.  Seems that waterheaters.com and toastersamerica and other incredibly random appliance folks thought my little space here would be a great place to leave little turds........

Anyway - I have a TON of goodness to show you.  Hubby and I have made several trips of late.....I can't wait to share!  I also have a few projects to share with you and.....the WORKROOM is finally going to go thru a remodel.....I need a place to start storing vintage inventory.....can't wait to tell you about that!!  Stay tuned -

I will be back next week - starting off the new year right with my One Little Word and then it's back to business.  I wish each of you an amazing, peaceful, love-filled Merry Christmas.  Please take a few minutes to remember the Baby in the manger that made this life of ours possible -

Enjoy!

jen