Monday, September 15, 2014

Getting "Farmhouse Style" in my Home

Just a little rant today .........

I have been searching for ideas for my kitchen .... Pinterest is one of my go-to places.

And in my search .... I found this.

And this 

And this.

And this one!!!! 

Really???????  (Farmhouse style at Walmart????  Made exclusively in 3rd world countries by children under the age of 10!  I didn't really say that out loud, did I????)

So why do all these articles about getting "farmhouse style in your suburban home" piss me off so much???

Because I have the real-McCoy and I don't want my house to look like yours. 

More importantly ..... its beginning to look like a trend.

And trends ain't style!

You may not be old enough to remember .... but I remember geese.  Heavily ruffled curtains and lots of bows.  Bows on everything ..... but especially on geese.

I remember Southwestern style.  Terra cotta pots, seagrass baskets, Indian blankets and heavily pattern fabrics.

I remember Tuscan French Country .... with fat pigs, sunflowers and lots of wine bottles.  And grapes.  And more wine bottles.  With heavily textured walls that looked like raw plaster with straw imbedded in it.

True style develops over time .... it grows slowly like an oak tree and NEVER arrives in a box.  It is Grandma's blue canning jar, Mom's daisy cookie jar and oak chairs retrieved from the rubbish pile.

We Americans toss out "style" in search of trends.  Last year's decorating purchases go on this year's garage sale. 

My own farmhouse style will not include many things on the lists.  But it will include this..........

(No..... not the wallpaper!!!  It has got to go!!)

The light.  The light will always stay.

In 1961, my parents remodeled their house and removed this 1920's era light fixture from the dining room.

And I cried.  So they told me that I could have it when I got my own house and it was relegated to the basement to live on the shelves in my dad's wood working area.

Occasionally, the shelves would get cleaned off ....  and the topic of throwing away the light fixture would arise.

And I would cry.

Finally .... my mother told me to get it out of the house so it rode in the trunk of several different cars for a couple of decades.

Now .... it has a home.  Forever.

And that will not be found on any list.

Wednesday, September 10, 2014

Hanging on for dear life ...........

Today is National Suicide Prevention Day and I have just got to talk.

This is a topic that we have quietly skirted around for AGES.  And we just have to talk about it.

OK -- for those of you who don't know..... I suffer from depression. 

Deep depression. 

Chronic depression.

Now ... like the tide ... it ebbs and flows.  I will have absolutely fantastic periods of my life.  And I have moments that I really do crash and burn.

I have suffered from this for decades.  As a small child ... 9 or 10 .... I really believed that I wouldn't be missed if I was dead.  At one point, I sooooooo wanted to die but I didn't want my daughter to have that memory of me.

And somehow .... through all the planning, the thoughts ..... I survived the darkness.

And the sun shined through my day.

Oh ... if you knew me then ... you may be surprised.  I laughed.  I giggled. I partied.  I crafted.  I worked.  I succeeded.

But with every breath ..... I struggled from within.  I was hanging on for dear life.  Sometimes, by a teensy, tiny thread. 

So for the last twenty years .... I have done reasonably well with prayer, medication and a wonderful husband.

But last month ... Robin Williams lost his battle with depression.

Talent, money, the best of therapists, the love of his family, and the adoration of his fans ..... and he lost his battle.

And I was scared.  If he could lose his battle, could I?

Today is National Suicide Prevention Day.

If you feel down, talk to someone. 

You. Are. Not. Alone.

And if you have never been touched by depression ... there are things you can do.
Tell your friends you love them. 
Reach out and hug someone.
If you see someone spiraling out of control .... get them help.


In 1991 ......... I was sooooooo close to the edge.
Catie grabbed my hand ... pulled me back from edge and led me to help.

Everyday ...  in every prayer ... I thank her for that.

Please be somebody's Catie.

Friday, September 5, 2014

Putting my toe in the water

People talk about making a living.  And life on a homestead is different.  It is about a lot of little checks.

I've talked about this before ...I sell a dozen eggs, make a new tea towel, teach a cooking class.  You get the idea.  Never much at one time .... but it does add up to make the insurance payment, the utility bill, the groceries.

If only I could find a way to make sure the propane tank is always filled.

With Honey approaching retirement age ... we are thinking about more ways to add little checks to the bank account.

Yesterday, I got a phone call from New York City!!!! (As said in a salsa-selling voice!)

The voice on the phone wanted flowers delivered to his mother for her 60th birthday.

As I explained to him ..... I am not a florist, I am a flower farm.  


And that was what he wanted.  Real flowers.   Not flowers that had acquired more air miles than he had.

Local, fresh, sustainable flowers.

Yea ... that was it.  He had me.

So I made a bouquet .... put it in a blue Ball jar .... tied a piece of antique lace around it.  And I will deliver it.

We no longer have a local florist .... and I may not want to do this on a regular basis ...... but it does seem like a good thing to add to the list.

Sell eggs, make a tea towel, teach a class, deliver flowers.

Lots of little checks ......

Who knows.  The propane tank may be filled yet!