Author: dianecwhitlock

For the last few days I have been “putting up” tomatoes and apples. With many vegetables from the garden I oven roasted a marinara sauce, and with all the apples picked from an abandoned, nearby orchard, I have jarred applesauce and frozen pie filling to bake some most coveted, mouthwatering apple pie at Thanksgiving time.

Oh, the voices that accompanied me yesterday morning in my kitchen. Those of a beloved mother, grandmother, and great grandmothers, hallowed the halls of my mind as I cored and peeled, salted and jarred not only a piece of a harvest but a piece of the past. They will all yet be missed this holiday season and still I will be thankful for those gathered at our banqueting table.

Fall rains have come and greened up parched summer pastures, and we even have a new addition to our herd — a bull, calf was born at dawn on September fifteenth. 

Jet black and pure, you’d think he was a March hare as wild as he has become. He’s got 15 acres of field to romp around in and yet he has to push through all the fences and take naps in the sage brush where I cannot see him.  I have spent much time tromping through the tall grasses looking for him even though his mother doesn’t seem at all concerned that he’s not within her sight! Parenting comes in many forms.

May you celebrate these last warm days of the summer season as these moments swiftly slip into autumn with all of her crisp air and apples still clinging to the branches and turning brighter vermillion shades.

Soon old man winter will sing his song, forced indoors I will also sing mine. Though it may sound more like a lament as the stiff winter winds hem us in on all sides. 

Saddle up, missy! We’ve got a trail to blaze!

Love you.

Diane

With Labor Day gone and done, all of the white shoes, white shorts, white capris, white belt and purse all tucked away in storage until next Memorial day when it’s totally legal to retrieve and wear once again. The signs of autumn creep softly in on the wings of the wild goose.

The black birds begin to flock up as the meadowlark and red-winged blackbird take their leave under the shadow of the wild goose scurrying to the next bare barley field to glean loose grains left behind by the farmer’s combine.

Which way the wild goose flies can only be directed by the confusing winds of late August and early September. Winds that blow from the south one minute and the north the next, causing temperatures to rise and fall in utter confusion. The cacophony of their honking overhead only makes us work faster knowing old man winter could sing as early as he wants without anyone’s permission.

There are many vegetables and fruits to be harvested before the killing frost. The empty canning jars beckon, knowing that Grandma Betty’s canned cinnamon apples will bring nostalgic delight come Thanksgiving time— all warm and familiar to my tongue.

Oh wild goose on the wing, will you head north or south today? Will your music carry me back to my childhood on Lake Michigan, way up north? Will my heart ever forgive the change of the seasons that cause me such grief? Can I find peace and joy in the seasons of my life as blessed and unending as they may seem?

Sometimes the wild geese fly so close overhead I can hear the flapping of their wings as they change positions in their reformation.

Perhaps a metaphor for life? Perhaps a gentle reminder to relinquish my position of assumed control and to allow the Lord to lead in my own reformation.

Saddle up Missy, we’ve got a trail to blaze!

Love you!

Diane

I’m wondering what you are hoping for today? I know our world is strange and topsy turvy. I know nothing seems to make sense (even more so than any other time in history) –so it seems. But I am a firm believer in that ‘things are not as they appear.’ There is a deeper truth in the works that we are not seeing or cannot see. Perhaps we are even being shielded from the intricacies of future plans that may only confuse us or cause greater turmoil.

Consider the context of Jeremiah 29:11 when God tells the Israelites that he has a plan for them beyond the false prophets lies. The Israelites are tempted to believe all the strangeness of the times swirling around them. They most certainly had to be asking themselves what is happening here? Nothing was making sense. Yes, they were being held captive in Babylon, but this for their own good and also all part of God’s bigger plans for hope and a future. Talk about topsy turvy and strange!

There is none but God who is able to see seventy years into the future. Simply put, he is the one to look to and the one to trust for all of our tomorrows. This is proverbially so much easier said than done but in order to ever realize the goodness of God, we must try to hang on to hope.

How do we hang on to hope? This directive is also in the Scripture of Jeremiah 29. Verse twelve says that when things get weird (my added words,) then we will call on him and come and pray to him, and he will listen to us. It also says that we will seek him and find him when we seek him with all of our heart. (I wonder why we wait till it all goes completely south when we finally seek God with all of our heart? This too part of the plan.) God promises the Israelites that he will come to them and fulfill his good promise to them and bring them back home. And he did! As Christians, our hope is in Christ alone. He is coming back to get us and that’s a promise that should bring great hope to our weary souls…and he will!

We may not get to go back to Mayberry with Andy and Aunt Bea, but then again who wants to? The good, old days will most certainly pale in comparison to the plans that God has for us.

So, don’t let go. Stay in the moment. Take care of yourself just for today. Make a plan for this week to go for walks while summer is still upon us. Each some fresh veggies from the garden and peaches and apples from the tree. Go to the farmers market. Visit with your neighbors and treat yourself to the goodness of the season. Get outside and pull a weed, pet your dog or horse, hug your family with a hug that lasts a little longer than usual. Try to see beyond your last inconvenience or complaint. Keep your mouth shut a little longer in conversation and actually listen to who is speaking and the message they are trying to convey. You don’t have to solve everyone’s dilemmas or be right–just for today!

Lean into God’s plan. He will most certainly fulfill every promise he has ever made. I’m quite sure he already has… I’m just a little slow in my unbelief. Oh God! Please help me in my unbelief!!

Saddle up missy, we got a trial to blaze!

Love you much. Diane

Well, it’s been a long, long time but I just wanted to update you on the last few years and months in Culinaire Claire’s world! So much has changed as so much remains the same. Claire’s French Bakery was going great guns until I couldn’t stand up anymore with pains from complete overuse in my back–from neck to hips. Turns out rolling all those croissants and kneading loaves and loaves of bread weekly is harder work than you might imagine!

So, after discontinuing the weekly menu/email, baking and deliveries, I had many appointments with the chiropractor, acupressurist and the couch. It was a bit of a long summer waiting for it all to heal and now I’m in the midst of strengthening my core again. I am only baking to order, making sourdough, rye and some sweets for friends and family. I miss my job, but I know now that I can’t continue to approach this whole business of baking like I’m killing snakes! I’m still so happy to be bread to all kinds of hungry as each opportunity presents itself.

A new route I am traveling is to write a couple of books within the next few months and years. I have done much journaling throughout my lifetime and have been involved in many activities and experiences that will lend themselves to at least three books rattling around in this head and heart of mine.

I believe I have some wisdom to impart if not a few good laughs to humor you through your days! There is a cookbook, a laugh book and a hope and healing book for women.

The rerouting has been one of introspection and difficulty. You see, I have never really been great with accepting change. I tend to overthink things and usually think I am to blame if situations go awry. A bit of a control freak, I am concerned about many things. I am a take charge kind of girl for the most part and I can get things done! Just stand back, hold my cuppa, and watch this!

One thing I do like about me is my teachable spirit. I can be taught and I love to learn. I am an avid reader, keeper of journals, and fond of learning new skills and hobbies. I have been called a great many things, but the one that I choose to remember and like is “Renaissance Woman!” Yep! That’s me–woman of the world.

I hope to continue this blog with more frequency. I hope you continue to come back!

Thanks for listening.

Saddle up missy, we got a trail to blaze!

Love you! Diane

 

Don’t you know that somehow, right out of left field, I’ve contracted pneumonia. I have never had pneumonia. I have never been this sick in all of my life. There is plenty of time to reminisce about your life when you are sentenced to the first week of bed rest after you have already feverishly been in bed for a week prior. Under my breath my doctor sort of evilly chortled, “You’re just getting warmed up!” I now have an even deeper respect for those who are chronically ill with debilitating diseases and cancer.

I am trying hard to stay down, because let’s face it–I am an utter bone head. I do want to heal up but my sense of determination, mental and physical strength to carry out what my mind can dream up, and the will power to complete the task is phenomenal! I’m not bragging. This can be a detriment when you begin to age and your body plays tricks on you. You actually need wise people in your life to guide you into safekeeping. That is if you will actually listen. Well let me just say that pain is an excellent teacher no matter what form it takes and not one I will soon forget.

As I lye in my bed, delirious from fever, exhaustion and too many meds to combat the infiltration in my left  upper lung, my strange and imaginative mind began to write my obituary and plan my funeral. I reasoned that I didn’t want to leave loved ones guessing in their grief. I wanted to finish relationships well… leave nothing unsaid or undone.  You know–cover all the bases so everyone felt loved and included. Boy, for the Queen of my kingdom I sure do have a lot of authority over other people’s emotions! I may have even reasoned my way from the coffin to the urn having not been a prior believer in cremation. I now know who will be singing, my playlist, I have written my own eulogy, and I have a few of my former pastors lined up in my mind to speak the truth in love. Ain’t nobody gonna preach this girl into heaven. I haven’t always been that nice. But thank God my entrance into Heaven doesn’t depend on how well or how badly I have behaved in my lifetime. There is One who already paid the price and you better know I believe it!

Frankly, I have been inspired to live a better life when I arise from this sick bed. Now this new plan doesn’t mean doing more, baking more, pleasing more people. No, this new plan means taking better stock of what I have been given, taking better care of my tribe, and even my own self. Turns out I’m not Superwoman after all. (maybe Elastigirl?) I seriously didn’t have a clue!  I’m a little thick, highly dramatic, and an action figure. Impetuous at times perhaps… but in my lifetime I’ve gotten a few things done. Maybe they didn’t all need to be done, but oh well. My work here is finished!?

In the picture at the top, the baby on the left is me. The sweet, sweet girl on the right is my first granddaughter, Grace. The good Lord sure knew what he was doing when he sent that beautiful, wonderful, active, determined, humorous, bundle of love and joy into all of our lives. Did I mention how much I love her and am so proud to be related to her? My middle daughter stated so profoundly, “Mom! She kinda makes you want to live a better life! Doesn’t she?”

Isn’t that the truth? Don’t you just want the best for your children? And then to get given such a gift as a grandchild. I already thought I had so much love in my heart. Who knew there was room for so much more!  (Construction Man says if he knew being a grampa was so great he would have skipped having children and went straight to being a grandparent!)  I’ve since taken it upon myself to help him navigate such simplicity and profundity!

I simply want to say that as I look at that picture of me in my highchair, (obviously waiting patiently for some sort of nourishment,) and how many decades later there sits Grace in her highchair hamming it up, chubby and happy; I’ve come to realize that grace comes in many forms!

I’m quite certain my mother fed me that day and cleaned up the mess afterwards. Grace.

I know for a fact I fed my children and cleaned up the mess afterwards. Grace.

I have read in the Bible that God fed his children and cleaned up the mess afterwards. Grace.

I’m sure that in all of our lives we have been hungry, been fed, made messes and were helped somehow by someone to get them cleaned up. Pure grace. Unmerited favor. It’s just something you can’t earn. Grace upon grace. What a gift this Grace!

I’m hoping your experience with grace is just as amazing, challenging, loving, joyful, and enlightening as mine has been.

Oh to rise from this bed and begin anew. Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound. Grammy misses you sweet girl.

Thanks for going down the rabbit hole with this  delirious, old-ish woman. My fever has broke, the coughing is subsiding and the antibiotics are kicking in. Safe to say I’m on the mend. Till next time…

Saddle up missy! We got a trail to blaze.

Love you.

Diane

Recently, there was this lady so excited to hear that I have a blog!

“Do you keep up with it and blog regularly?” she inquired.

Sadly, my reply was honest admitting that alas, I do not. It’s not that I am lazy and avoiding my blog page. I find blogging enjoyable. Quite the contrary.

It’s just that I have not sat down since February! And the sweet girl in this picture is one of the main reasons why. My beautiful, first granddaughter. Isn’t she just a peach? We are all so taken with her. She is six months old now and fills our days and hearts with more love than should be allowed.

Also, I have been baking. From croissants to breads, cakes to tarts and back again… boy, have I been baking. This next pict is a recent birthday cake (chocolate raspberry with chocolate ganache,) for a man in our community who turned 88 years old just last week. I’ve always said I am going to live till I’m 88. I’m sure I will! He was happy with his birthday cake.

This next photo is of… drum roll please… my new commercial bakery space!! Yay for me! Yay for Cody which now has an official European bakery to supply folks with wholesome, artisan breads, pastries, croissants and sweets. Construction Man built it for me this summer up at our ranch and it was inspected and approved by the health inspector just a few short weeks ago. Wholesale orders are coming in and the farmers markets are going strong. We are currently looking for a downtown store front to provide a place for people to shop for all their future baking needs. Fresh bread for every family–now doesn’t that sound just right?

And lastly, this purple petunia photo is the reason for the word ‘heritage’ a’top the page. My husband’s grandmother, Betty, is my grandmother too. She passed away several years ago and is terribly missed by us all. A delightful, talented woman, she always made me feel special and loved within our family. Needless to say her favorite color was purple. From shoes to clothing to decor, everything was purple. She was a fabulous quilter and many of her quilts were–you guessed it! Hues of PURPLE!

As I was rolling out more croissant dough early the other morning I felt as if I belonged to a much bigger picture. It was as if all of those older women who have gone before me, rolling dough for family and friends, were very close by as the same sun peaked over the horizon.  I reasoned that this rolling pin in my hands, (which was Gramma B’s,)  the sweat on my brow, and this huge, antique wooden table laden with flour, were drawing me into a warm and wonderful society of caregivers, a heritage of cooks, bakers, and keepers of the home that simply loved what they did. A complete circle of life and love that encompasses me too.

I can hear them gabbing in the kitchen:  Grandmother Lily, Grandma Claire, Grandma Betty, Grandma Nan, Grandma Jean, Grandma Marg sharing, solving the worlds problems over a table of floured dough. And now… Grammie Diane!  I’m so joyful to be included in such a prestigious group of talented, amazing, loving, giving women. I hope to run the race well and see them again, my cloud of witnesses. Of course and thankfully, Grandma Nan is still in her kitchen making cream puffs for my daddy. Love you Mama!

What’s been transmitted or acquired to/by you from your predecessors? What do you possess as a result of your natural birthright? What is your heritage? I hope you can look back fondly and feel the love of a good grandmother, mother or caregiver surrounding you. If not, my door’s open. My arms too! I’m a grandma now you know with plenty of love to share… and sweets galore.

Saddle up missy! We’ve got a trail to blaze!

Love yous.

Diane

I have never had a problem using my words. I’ve always been quite the expressive girl. Two words come to mind:  Drama Queen. It’s not my fault really. I love words and was raised by a very colorful father who was quick with a joke (still is today!) or quip, or cuss word to sum up every situation. Being the third child I was squeaky and learned early on that class clown wasn’t a bad thing. Whether they were laughing at me or laughing with me didn’t really matter to me. Due to my sensitive nature, most times it felt like they were laughing at me… well hell, I was laughing at me. But so what? They were laughing and I have always enjoyed the laughter of folks and also watching people eat. I was born to please people. Yep. I am a people pleaser. There. I said it. Now I’ll get over it.

It would seem that the best way to deal with this hoarding of words buried so deep inside my soul is to expel them. You know, vomit. Puke them out… and in no certain order with no rhyme or reason according to my husband. My being a little ADHD, he sometimes has a hard time keeping my attention. I am so taken with flying things, shiny things, smells, leaves, feathers, bugs, clouds and sounds. I can scarce take it all in and so it creates these words that arrive with each emotion or senses overfilled.

Only recently have I found that you can attach ‘feeling words’ to such inner activities. Like hunger, anger, frustration, joy, sadness. I guess that’s called maturation– rather than just acting on these feelings being provoked by my surroundings. But I like acting. And it gets the laughs as well.

We went and saw Rocketman last night. It is a movie/biography of Elton John’s life. I never knew. I am flabbergasted. I found it to be quite raw and quite sad. There are many parallels into all of our lives if we choose to be honest. How can one person be so exploited right before our very eyes for so long and that we would not be privy to his pain. I have ever enjoyed Sir Elton John’s music and taken it into very deep places on my journey. I have the utmost respect for this man and I hope the rest of his life and that of his family can be lived in peace and great love.

The interesting part of yesterdays activities was that I took the day off from baking to go to a local songwriters festival in a nearby town. There were great songwriters there from Nashville and this was to be their masterclass for ten of us. I had signed up and paid my money to get schooled. And boy did I get schooled!  I thought it would be in the construction of lyrics and chord progressions, not in the ways of my unsteady heart. I honestly think I am too old to be learning such huge life lessons but apparently not. The questions were posed:  What are you goals? Why are you here? Where are you going with this? What will you do next? What can we help you with? Any questions? Why yes, I have questions now. But I do not think you are as equipped as my therapist to answer them.

YIKES!! I was only prepared to go and have some fun and soak in the presence of others within my craft. Scalded (perhaps too harsh a word) was more like it. I got soap splashed  in my eyes and wondered why I drove home crying. Really? I am too old for this shit! (Use your words, Diane. I thought that’s what I was doing!) Hopefully,  you also have these meaningful conversations with yourself.

I cannot put into words, even after a night’s sleep, what was all mixed up in a day of trying to sum up my life’s musical pursuits and exhaustedly watching Elton in his musical pursuits trying  to kill himself– twice in the course of two hours. (Don’t worry.  I’m not comparing myself to Elton John. I don’t hold a candle in the wind next to that guy!) Obviously he lives… not to spoil the end of the movie for you, but talk about emotions and shiny things, feelings and flying things, bows and flows and angel hair and ice cream castles in the air. My mind is still reeling trying to find my footing again. Songs, songwriters, fame, fortune, unfortune, Bernie Taupin, Hollywood, The Trubadour, Nashville, name dropping, striving, looking for love in all the wrong places, Blake, Justin, Miley, Honky Tonk, get back honky cat…

Then Construction Man, not to be confused with Rocketman, has three simple words to sum up my musical career.  Ready? Here it comes…

ENJOY THE GIFT

Let me reiterate:  ENJOY THE GIFT

What? He goes on to further explain that upon hearing me sing my songs and clumsily play my guitar (clumsy is my word–not his) he knew we were connected for life. That is what drew him to me. The magical peace in my talents that put his mind at ease and gave him rest inside.

Since that time and over the course of 40+ years, I have played and sang to many folks. Namely my children in utero and onward, encouraging them to play guitar, piano and sing out loud! Nowadays I play to an audience of one. Well two. God and Grace. My baby granddaughter… another gift and not only in name. She loves to hear gramma sing and watches my hands carefully as I bang away on the ole, cracked, resonant Guild. It’s a privilege to introduce her to Carole King, John Foggerty, Hillsong, Matt Maher, Janis Joplin, Jesus Christ and Bob Seger, to mention a few. I include the King of kings in this list because He was numbered with the trangressors elsewhere, and because He is music… and He writes the songs! Sorry Mr. Manilow. (You should trying being inside of my mind…)

Anywho. Bless those around you because you can and you already do. Stand strong and tall. You are right where you are supposed to be. Live, dear friends. Live life. Laugh, love, cry, fail and get right back up to live another day. You are not alone. We are all in this together. One big traveling show…

Now, I have a huge bowl of Cranberry Walnut bread dough risen and ready for scaling. Then it’s off to the oven where it will fulfill it’s duty baking to a crusty, tender, flavorful loaf of yeasty goodness! Don’t forget the butter.

Saddle up, missy! We got a trail to blaze.

Love you.

Diane

 

As I strolled the ranch this morning the strange scent of unfermented, tonic, well… fresh dew in the dry Wyoming air filled my nostrils with memories of another place and time.

I’m fourteen again. Riding my palomino mare trail-wise through our 40 wooded acres in Northern Michigan; my Aussie/Collie Pete follows behind keeping a watchful eye on me.  The mossy, thick, humid air is an everyday occurrence for this little girl– always, always, always being outside. Why I’d rather take out the trash and feed the dogs than do those dang dishes, dust, or any other household chore! Much to my mother’s dismay, I’m sure.

But today, today as a much older woman, (I’m a grandmother now you know!) the mountain air brings nostalgia and newness. (The sense of smell has such power over the memory.)  My mind goes to an emotionally overwrought place that’s seems too much to bear. Bitter sweet memories of all those places and people left behind and loved ones long gone on ahead of me. The aches, pains, laughs, wrinkles, hours, days, weeks, months…years take their toll and roll on by.  Troubled thoughts are comforted with sage wisdom of the best forthcoming as I tromp through the long wet grasses soaking my barn shoes and pants halfway up my shins. In reflection, the  boundaries have indeed fallen for me in good places. This nagging guilt of living the best of times will not encroach upon the freshness of a new day.  I am grateful. I am thankful. I am at peace.

“Today a new sun rises and we start again.”     French Proverb

The sun did rise again today… right on time. Today I refrain from my daily baking activities. Today I catch up with my ordinary life. Today I breathe deep, over and over, come what may:  old memories to reinforce my essence, or inhaling the new cookbook next to my chair. The new Mary Jane’s Farm magazine also awaits my attention.  And of course there will be laundry… always laundry!

My husband, Construction Man, has begun building on my commercial space for the bakery. Again we tried for a location in town, and again it fell through. Oh well. There is a plan and it will all come to fruition–just not in my way or time frame. But again wisdom says enjoy the journey and do not force such things.

So for now I bake for the farmers markets, private parties, individuals, weddings and family. This brings me great joy seeing you all eat and enjoy my art. Thank you for supporting me and causing me to take ahold of my purpose and passion. After all, it is in the shelter of one another that we truly live.

Now, saddle up missy! We got a trail to blaze. Hope to see you out there.

Love yous,

Diane  #culinaireclaire

Where French meets West!

 

As many of you know, I attended The International School of Baking last April. Since my return I have been on a dead run to try and establish a good, old fashioned French bakery including:  artisanal breads, croissants, pastries, tarts, cakes, pies and cookies. These things take time!

In May and June I baked at Cody Coffee Roasters, leaving there to sell my wares at the Big Horn Basin Farmers Market and providing cakes for birthdays and weddings. All my endeavors have been highly successful as people are truly beginning to enjoy my bakes. During this time we have been searching for the right location to open our doors and provide our area friends and family with the highest quality baked goods possible. Much to our dismay, the first building we decided to move forward on had too many complications with the electrical standards required. Ideally, if we are going to renovate at such a cost, we would like to own the building… not just lease. Keeping our eyes peeled and our ear to the rail we continue our search.

This last month has found me to be traveling and doing only birthdays and weddings, (which require a great deal of time and effort,)  along with some oven repairs, and most recently a bout with flu! (Are you kidding me? I really don’t have time to be sick!) Needless to say the farmers markets have been few and far between. My apologies to everyone. I thank you all for your business this summer. It was so great!!

I continue to bake my Wild Wyoming Sourdough and Russian Peasant Rye along with other popular goodies that private parties are ordering. Please feel free to call me with all of your cravings and baking needs! I will be traveling a bit, but will keep you up to date on my baking schedule. With the holidays approaching you may need some scrumptious breads, rolls, Buche de Noel (Yule Log Cake), croissants, French macarons, Christmas cookies, pies and tarts.

Again, thank you for your business and your hopes for Claire’s French Bakery to open real soon!

Saddle up, Missy. We got a trail to blaze!

Love you.

As a mother and wife of 36 years, I have compulsory, built-in, labor intensive chores almost daily. I say almost daily as our house is empty nested and has been for a few years now.  Young mothers will not believe this, but if you are blessed and have done your job well, your children will fly the coop someday and you will only have yourself and hopefully your spouse to care for and clean up after.

There will always be four, no, five laborious chores that will need tending to for the rest of your days, guaranteed! These chores are “characterized by or requiring care and much attention to detail; exhibiting excessive effort, dullness and lack of spontaneity. (dictionary.com) I mean, how many ways are there to clean the toilet, sinks, countertops, and wipe up the floor? But, somebody’s got to do it, right?

1.  Making that toilet bowl sparkle– I’ve always been a big fan of Comet cleanser. I suppose it’s because my mother used it when I was a kid and she still does today. However, I do like that Lysol spray w/ bleach, followed up by the antibacterial wipes for the rim, seat and floor beneath the throne. The joy truly comes the next time you use the commode. So fresh and clean!
2. Dusting– We’re talking tv’s, bookshelves, knick knacks (defined as small worthless objects; especially a household ornament.) Not to neglect the tops of kitchen cabinetry, the refrigerator, your computer and window sills. The joy comes with the killing of spiders when you disrupt their nests in various hidden corners of your nest. (Fact:  you are never not within three feet of a spider.) Not to mention the tv and computer screen seem clearer… brighter, somehow.
3. Taking out the trash– it’s magical really. (My hens certainly benefit from cleaning out the cupboards and refrigerator, but old condiments, mystery bowls of gunk, wrappings, cereal boxes, and general waste fill my trash bin.)  The garbage man comes right on schedule every Tuesday! I am grateful for those that collect my trash. I try not to have copious amounts of trash… but sh-t happens.
4. Doing dishes– I do love me a sink full of hot, soapy water. I love soap and water. Did I mention I love soap and water. (I knit those old fashioned dish cloths, out of utter frustration and hyper activity, and I just love soaking them up and wiping down my  counters with hot soapy water!) But really! With two people in this empty house how do so many dishes pile up? None the less, the bonus is getting up in the morning to an empty, clean sink to start again.
5. Folding laundry– I don’t mind washing clothes. It’s easy. The river is just out back and I keep the washboard by the door for a quicker get away when the temps drop below freezing. I don’t even mind hanging them out on the line to freeze dry in the winter, which is only eight months out of the year around here. But seriously, how many times, ways and tedious hours can be spent folding the same articles of clothing? The upside is you only have you and your hubby’s to do now–not three little girls who changed their clothes every hour all day long for eighteen years.

All joking aside, I am quite happily privileged to do such tasks in this lifetime. My life could have turned out so differently. I must declare, I have been blessed!  I am thankful to have a bathroom complete with running water–hot and cold. I love a toilet that flushes and works so magically and consistently. (I love soap!)

Dusting only emphasizes that I have extras. I have been given much. I love books, pictures of family, memorabilia of simpler times when the girls were little, and knick knacks that spur memories of beloved family and friends. To dust all of this keeps me hopeful and reminds me to watch out for spiders!

Taking out the trash keeps it real… really. I realize how blessed we are to eat food everyday, even if the packaging is ridiculous, and to pray for and help those who cannot afford to eat wholesome meals.

Again, doing dishes brings forth a grateful spirit. Dirty dishes means I ate and drank that day. Plus, I love dishes. I have a few sets and add to my collection regularly. I reassure Construction Man that I truly use everyone of those bowls in that cupboard!

The illustrious folding of the laundry is my weekly reminder that I am spoiled with such clean, warm, flattering habiliments with which to cover my nakedness. Plus, I get to pray for that person as I fold their shirt, that the Lord would bless their heart, make their shoulders and arms strong for the tasks at hand on the day they wear that piece.

There is good all around us. Especially in the mundane, laborious chores of each day. May you find joy today in your laboratory?!?! (That’s funny because laboratory, lavatory, laborious… oh well, forget it!)

Saddle up missy, we got a trail to blaze!

Love you.