Thursday, August 10, 2017

19th-Century Simple Living In A 21st-Century World

The summer months have nearly passed away, my dear friends.

 My BG and I had to remove our large 30-foot palm a few months ago. I asked my beloved to bring home his chain saw from the garden shop so that he can slice the trunk into 3- inch chargers. They will be spectacular for evening garden parties. I'm not one to waste. Not because I'm such a frugal person, but I suppose because it's my creativity pouring from my fingertips. I find it utterly pleasurable.
At the back of the cottage doors, I find it's quite convenient to keep boots, baskets, gloves, and clippers close at hand.
As I've been going through some transitional moments, the tides turning so to speak, I am reminded again of all the particulars in my life and how every thing rebounds.

Most of you probably aren't aware of the side of me that I really haven't spoke of much. At least since the internet has come along. I'd like to take you along on a journey of the woman I was long ago before she was forgotten. That woman I would sum up in the best way possible by saying I'm an aspiring woman of 19th-century simple living in a 21st-century world. I was browsing through the few photo albums that I have of my children and I saw the girl I was as a young mother. I used to make dozens of calico printed skirts, smocked linen petticoats with lace and wore them daily with darling pillowcase aprons that I would sew.

My daughter would also wear pillowcase dresses. Do you remember when those were something the little southern girls would wear often? I think my daughter had at least seven, one for each day of the week. Her great-great grandmother would sit in the nursing home and embroider the edges of pillowcases and I would make them into dresses. My daughter never left our home without a pair of eyelet bloomers beneath her dresses. Barefoot maybe, but never without bloomers. (heh...)
As I've observed the numerous virtual committee meetings for the curatorship of the mansion in Carmel, California, I must admit it seems like at times I can see no light at the end of the tunnel. But then when I post an entry like the one tonight I'm reminded straight away that everything is in perfect timing.
Collecting more straw for another wispy broom. My collection is coming along nicely. 
  Preserving the harvest. Fresh green beans for supper. Whatever is in the season really eliminates the choices of whats to be prepared for our meals. What I love about gardening is the variety of fresh vegetables that are in season.

 The cottage has been under- construction for some time! For the last several months I've spent my time in between painting by removing all the carpet in the cottage. It may seem that it's not the best looking but I happen to fancy the bare concrete floors. The clean up is easy and especially when there's a bun-bun hopping about it makes my duties much lighter. I'm converting our front room into my artist's studio since it'll be much easier than having to clear the dining table every evening for supper. I am planning to seal the floors with a flat sealer to encourage repelling spills and markings from seeping into the concrete.
 I had sweet corn from the farmers market, so after my BG and I ate the corn I decided that I'd spend a few minutes creating some corn cob dolls. I loved making these at Thanksgiving with my daughter especially. My little boys weren't super fond of them, but they did enjoy making the turkey pine cones for name place cards.
 Today I planted flowers and watched closely to be ready for seed harvesting. soon...very soon...
 I find that preserving a seed harvest helps you to appreciate all the hard work that goes into every seed pod when they begin to flower--and that feeling of accomplishment is the earth's endowment.
My BG picks us daily vegetables from the garden and says "Let's make something from our harvest today, my love." (I feel little distinguishable nose twitching from holding my eyelids shut tightly to keep from dewy drops of tears streaming down my freckled fair complected, rosy cheeks). 
 I spent the morning like most mornings out in the garden. As I was perusing my tools, I was reminded of how much I appreciate my BG (Beloved Gardener) for collecting all vintage garden tools. He even sharpens them himself. Gardening tools are the first thing he goes towards whenever we visit a yard or estate sale. I think it's quite romantic. (shhh...) :)

Life is a gift to be appreciated every day. How glorious it is to be surrounded by natures beauty, the simplicity of daily devotion; to feel the true joy of contentment. 

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