Oh dear readers,
I am so sorry to have ditched you like this, without even an explanation as to where I had gone or what I'd be doing. The truth is that I thought I would have time to post a little "going away" message before leaving for a friend's wedding in Memphis but carefully laid plans quickly gave way to chaos as I readied myself for the trip.


Memphis is home to lots of amazing antique malls. It is quite impossible to do any shopping without rescuing at least a vintage hat or two...

Now I am back home and life has taken an unexpected turn. A non-profit organization that I have been volunteering at has asked me to fill a part- time position they had available. Now, you must understand that I thought I would never have to work again and I am even ashamed to admit that I have at times felt somewhat snobbish towards mothers who could stay home but choose to work instead. But this org. provides a service which I am passionate about and if they need me how can I say no?

And so now after being a wife and a mother, in between gardening and homeschooling, and right before crafting and canning; I will be working part-time.



By the way, this is the picture I promised two weeks ago. Jars and jars of Plum Jam, Stewed Plums and Apricot Jam. Oh dear, surely I will still have time to can all the Apple Butter and Apple Sauce which is coming up next? We shall see...

One priceless porcelain washbowl, over 107 years old and seven generations in our family, destroyed in under five seconds by a single curious youngster. So sad.



After last week's frustrating pace, broken computer and testy tempers everyone was relieved that today was both pleasant and only slightly busy. Once the children were in bed I set to work bustling around the kitchen. Projects are usually best done at night here and this quiet evening peace is wonderful after a full day, it gives me a moment to wind down, relax and prepare for the following days activities.

It is late now, but perhaps tomorrow I will show you the fruit of my labors.

Aside from the obvious beauty of these darling handmade linens, they are precious to me simply because of the shear amount of work that I know must have gone into them. Most of these were recently rescued from a local thrift shop. After my initial shock that someone would actually even send them there I snatched them up and squirreled them away.
It wasn't until after they were safely home and had been handwashed, starched, pressed and folded that I began to wonder what I was actually going to do with them. It seemed like such a shame to tuck them away in my closet where they wouldn't be displayed.
Gradually they have found homes in my nooks and crannies. One tucked in a little basket on Pepper's dresser, a few decorating the top of our commode, memories of a time when needlecraft was precious and women took pride in their handwork.

As I sit down at my own hoop this morning to begin the day's stitches I contemplate the work of women who came before me and can't help but wonder if one day my projects will also fall through the cracks and be forever lost and forgotten, or if like my thrift store linens they too will be found (and rescued!) by a stranger who sees a value greater than simply having something new.