How I love preparing for a big project! I think being prepared is one of my favorite pastimes. Of course, it doesn’t hurt a bit that I found most of this grand collection of fabrics for free or at most, $1 per yard at garages sales. Wow.
Not only that, but most of it was neatly folded, just as you see here, and to top that off, clean and tightly-packed in zipper-type bags, smelling of newness and all things nice. Ha! So much fun to find all this lavender-ness standing in line, jumping up and down, crying, “Pick ME! Pick ME!”
Add to that the obvious, my huge collection of actual lavender blossoms, themselves, which you may view here, and you can see I am right on ready.
I am pretty good at staying ready. I am not always so sure for what. How about you?
This time, though, I am sure. I must make as many lavender things as I can, to attempt some sales at a festival in a couple of weeks. So, you might as well ready yourself for lots of purple posts. Ha.
Probably won’t sell much, but these things always make great gifts, and for any birthday, etc., that happens along, I will be . . .
Well, it’s not the prettiest sight in the world, but it represents GREAT progress: a path to my sewing machine. Now it calls my name every time I hang up a shirt or walk to the coffee pot.
A View of the Path
I will be crafting several hand-made eye masks for sleeping, with lavender between the layers of fabric. Cannot wait to begin.
You know, that uberhuge closet had been the dumping ground for anything we were unsure about where to store it. Now that certainty has guided the clean-up, we still have the unsure things, but they are elsewhere.
It reminds me of the Cat in the Hat, which constantly flung pink stuff somewhere ELSE, but never actually got rid of it until the very end of the book.
I don’t want to wait that long.
But I surely enjoy strolling down that closet path.
On the way down to the chicken house, to take my girlies some scraps, today, I startle a squirrel, which bounds into the woods, startling me, in return.
Next, a deer leaps from its hiding place near the edge of the woods and races after the squirrel, such rattling of leaves and scrambling of footsteps as I’ve not heard in a while.
As I near the hen-house, which is 2/3 wood shed, I hear more scrambling. What a menagerie around here, today! I hear it again. Hmm. This is not the usual. The hennies are making a different sound, too, one I’ve heard too many times before. They’re saying, “We don’t like the sounds and smells around here, at all.”
I stop my crunching advance and listen. Another small movement comes from under the worm table. (Yeah, worm table. Gotta postabout those soon.) I toss a small rock over there to scare whatever it is.
Nothing.
I begin thinking about snakes. We’ve seen a timber rattler around here, before, and it’s been so hot and dry, and there is water inside the chicken house . . .
I realize I am not dressed for actual danger, in a summer dress and flip-flops, so I really need to size up the situation.
Inching along, I peer around a corner and gasp.
Raccoon (Procyon lotor). Français : Raton laveur (Appellé Racoon en Guadeloupe) (Procyon lotor). Author: Darkone, 5. August 2005 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
There, in the deep shadows, is the glowing-eyed face of a huge, fat raccoon.
I immediately back up, out of its sight. A cornered raccoon can be deadly, roughly as dangerous as a pit bull. Odd that it just sat there looking at me.
Not wearing decent shoes, and not having my phone with me, I know the best plan is to retreat up to the house and think. Calling my husband, I learn the raccoon probably is caught in a trap, which explains why it did not attack, flee, or even move. Then he explains to me how to unlock our rifle, volunteering to come home early and help me.
I feel I ought to be able to do this, though, and want to try. So I change into jeans and real shoes, get a drink of water for all this heat and exercise, grab the rifle, and return to the chicken house via a different way, around the shop, to approach it from behind. Several branches of briars are in my path and with my nerves about to snap, I pick my way through to where I know my moment of truth awaits me.
I peer into that dark place, again, and sure enough, the raccoon is still there. I aim and squeeze the trigger.
Nothing.
Hmm. I pull out my cell phone to ask my husband a few more questions. Aarrgh! I’ve unknowingly grabbed our son’s rifle. Of course, it is not loaded. By now my husband seems really eager to come home. But I still think I can do it and I still want to try, so, it’s back up to the house, for me, to exchange rifles and get another drink of water, and then back I go, down to the chicken house.
Since the terrain continues downhill, beyond the building, I choose a different vantage point, this time, one that puts me on a lower elevation and puts the ‘coon more at my level. I’m feeling like quite the predator, now. I aim and this time the satisfying “pop” of success makes me feel lots more intelligent.
Until I realize I’ve missed the critter entirely. Sighs.
I move closer and try again. What! Now the rifle isn’t working, again. Oh, brother!
Thinking it must have had only one bullet, I return to the house and call my husband once more, telling him I give up. He agrees to come home. I drink more water and return to putting the finishing touches on my closet project.
That was enough excitement for nothing, I think, but I do love having the experience!
And my husband says, “I never married you for a hunting buddy, anyway.”
Yesterday, I finally launched a work I meant to do last year.
And the year before.
Today I actually dragged half the contents of the master closet out into the bedroom and kitchen.
Kitchen? Yes; it’s a walk-through closet connecting the kitchen and bedroom. My side of the bed is exactly ten steps from the corner of the stove where the coffee pot sits each morning. Heh, heh.
Just Ten Steps from Zzz-land!
But I digress . . .
There used to be no terrific place to put all my sewing project business. However, there was this enormously gigantic closet in the master bedroom. And we are the type that has a normal amount of clothing. So . . .
One new electrical outlet later, and voila! I had a lovely galley sewing room, with space for zillions of yards of fabric to hang on coat hangers around me. Excellent!
Except it was also still our closet and sometimes I put outgrown or off-season kids’ clothing in there. And schoolwork that needed filing. And large skeins of yarn for crochet projects. And gifts I’m hiding until someone’s gift-day comes along. And stuff-Mart bags stuffed with stuff I needed to deal with. And back-logs of un-ironed items. And a multitude of craft supplies.
It was becoming unnavigable.
So yesterday, I hit it.
However, I also needed to wash a couple of intricate loads of laundry, hard-boil a dozen eggs without ruining them, and fix myself breakfast and lunch on time, since I had a tutoring appointment in the afternoon. So I did all of it at once, listening to the washer while watching the eggs come to a boil, and taking bites of my breakfast and sips of my juice, between trips in and out of that closet, loaded down with boxes, etc., and at the same time, sorting contents according to what was throw-away, storage, or put-away. Also re-charged my cellphone, did chicken chores, and made a new pot of coffee.
We call it multi-tasking, and we are good at it because we do so much of it. So many aspects of keeping a peaceful home depend upon it.
Our home is not too peaceful, right now, though, but rather torn out and scattered, waiting for me to finish it. Oh, the worst is over; just have to fit a few things back in, the right way, then enjoy it again.
And when it comes to the soul, aren’t most of us also in that shape?
As you can see, I have already sold two quarts and saved another quart out for a gift. Must finish stripping the stems in the basket and then begin making rice-filled neck rolls and sleep masks. Mmm! My most fun project ever.
My sister-in-law makes the lavender candles and my daughter-in-law sells them. A local huge Fall Event is coming up soon, where we will try out the market.
I just finished the most wonderful week, followed by an amazing weekend, and how exhausted I am! Does that ever happen to you?
A new friend visited me for a whole week. She stayed in our guest house and helped me with cooking and canning. One night I spent the night with her. What fun to talk like college girls until 2 in the morning! I say “like college girls” but really, we shared from the Word and from our lives like NO college girls I ever knew. I may be a bit too old for such a schedule, but it probably was for only one time, and was over too soon.
After lunch with an old friend that Friday, I caught up on shopping, found a new purse on back-to-school sale. No more BTS for me, but the sales are still a great idea.
Then it was off to our son’s house visiting with him and his lovely family, lunching on burgers and outstanding carrot cake, teasing and loving grandchildren, playing games; lengthening and strengthening the bonds we built in our son’s childhood.
Came home to view a large column of smoke rising from the woods about 4 miles from our house. Fire’s out, now, thank the Lord.
Then came Sunday, the day when we rest only from our own stuff, but highly concentrate on the Lord’s work . . . How I love the little church that has tripled in attendance since having a pastor, for a change! And how I love the one-hour drive to it, when I share my husband and he shares me with: NO ONE. Our talks have been so good.
That was yesterday, and we had a lovely visitor to grace our home for the afternoon. Made nachos and just relaxed together. So good.
Now it is just me, just this home. Such peace. Bed made. Laundry started. Cats fed. Chickens out. Headed for 105 degrees IN THE SHADE (that’s right at 40 C), today, down from the recent 110-ish week, with humidity from a brief rain last night. Air conditioner, set on 80, has run several times, already, this morning. Garden dead and tilled in. Jars of food all rinsed and stored in the basement.
Pear harvest waiting to be pear butter.
Second cup of coffee sitting at ready.
Join me! Bring your best knife and I’ll share some pear butter with you–it’ll be fun!
One morning’s work, SAVED for chili, soup, and spaghetti!
The Master Potter!
Sisters, we truly are like canning jars (2 Corinthians 4:7). God calls us to belong to Him for a reason, and that is to contain the treasures of His Holy Kingdom, but first we need to be clean jars. He is very careful and does not store valuable things in dirty vessels. So the first step for us is to be saved, delivered from the dirt to which we’ve been accustomed (John 3:7). If we are not “Spiritual” we cannot take in Spiritual treasures (1 Corinthians 2:14).
We must also be unabused, emotionally “whole” people: no cracked-pots (Acts 8:18-23). What joy we have in knowing we serve the God who knows how to fix us broken jars!
Then we must be set apart for His use, separated from the world and it’s contamination, as with that flat lid, sealed by the Spirit of God (Ephesians 1:13-14.) The screw bands are like the Law, holding us in separation (Romans 7:7) until The Seal takes effect, and then are unneeded and removed from over us.
The cooker is this present world (John 16:33). The heat and pressure are our trials (James 1:2-3, 2 Corinthians 4:8). The timing is God’s alone (Ecclesiastes 3:1, 11). All the elements of successful food storage are mirrored in God’s beautiful work of preparing us “earthen vessels” to hold His treasures.
It is such a joy to be the bearer of God’s good things. He can open us up and use us to bless those who would die without His goodness in their lives (Psalm 145:15, Ephesians 2:10). Many who would turn away from God are drawn to what they see in us (John 15:8, 16). He can place us wherever He desires, to give the gift of His goodness whenever He pleases (2 Timothy 4:2). His Life is not just for Sunday Church!
The sad thing is that there can be failure in this endeavor, as in home canning, and the results are just as putrid when left undetected. Doesn’t the mention of your favorite failed evangelist make you cringe? Spoiled food, and rotten Treasure both are unusable, offensive, and poison (Jude 12,13).
The only real difference between any one of us and these people is that their unseparated condition, cracked rim, or whatever the problem, went a long time unnoticed and unfixed. A spoiled jar can explode.
The solution is always to submit to God’s dumping us out and cleaning us (Ephesians 5:25-26), to allow Him to adjust us, and to go joyfully into the pan of pressures and heat. Then when He refills us (Ephesians 5:18), we will “hold”.
And what if you are broken, cracked, or chipped either before or during your time in God’s service?
You do not have to be smashed and thrown away.
We serve the God who knows how to mend the broken pieces of our lives (Jeremiah 18:1-8).
Submit to Him. Let Him clean you, mend you, fill you, seal you, and use you.
Home's Cool! 