The home stretch for this trip

The sands of time are running out on this visit to Illinois.  I said to Pete at dinner, "I wish we had just one more week here."  He said, "We'd never leave if we did."  So I guess it's good we're leaving on Wednesday.

We had to get up at dawn today and this is what I saw out the west window.  Can you see the two stars?

And this is what I saw out the east window.

We hustled through some chores to be ready when the guys came to blow in insulation.  They added 10 inches of cellulose above the living room and kitchen.  When they were done, Pete fired up the new carpet steamer (same model we have in CA) and I started boiling water for it.  I had to go upstairs in the garage to search for something to heat large quantities of water.  I felt like I'd "stuck in a thumb and pulled out a plum" when my eye lit on these old treasures.  They haven't seen the heat of a stove for many a decade but two of the three were water tight and served perfectly to heat many gallons of water.

While Pete was steaming the carpets and I was boiling water, I decided to take the second oven door apart (I'd done one already) and clean all the glass.  That led to cleaning both ovens.  I also cleaned the concrete floor in the basement one more time.  Then it was off to town for lunch.  We spent the afternoon setting up wireless internet for Maynard and Sue.  And Pete put up new doorbells on the front and back doors.  Tonight we want to install blinds and wash the basement floor.  Then we'll be done with the big projects for this trip.  

I had a burn pile going out behind the pig house this morning.  Lots of construction bits, boxes, dead branches from the yard and old stuff to burn.  It just wouldn't have seemed right if I hadn't had at least one big conflagration.  One of the joys of country life.  

We've been in California seven and a half years now.  I just re-read some of the blog posts I wrote when we were newly transplanted and it brought into sharp focus some of the changes that have occurred - internally as well as externally - in our lives in these last years.  

There hasn't been a time during the years here that I haven't felt the desire to be "back home" on the farm.  From the beginning, however, we made the choice to embrace the life God has given us here.  And from today's perspective, I cannot imagine my life without the experiences and relationships that have HUGELY blessed and enriched my life out here.  God has deconstructed and reconstructed so many aspects of my life, accomplished so much healing, and given so many opportunities for growth.  Just like the California sunshine causes things to flourish, these years have been a flourishing season for us, not because of the climate and location but because of God's work.  The relationships He's given us have made us immeasurably richer and for that we are immeasurably thankful.  These have been golden years in the Golden State. 

We aren't leaving California and our life here yet.  But somehow knowing there is a definite end in sight gives a different perspective on life.  I think it's what Moses was talking about in asking God to teach us to number our days.  For many years I've had that verse framed above my desk:  "So teach me hourly to contemplate the fleeting character and brevity of my lifetime, that I may present to you a heart of wisdom."  I think that must be Keil and Delitzsch's translation of Psalm 90:12 because it's not any recognizable version.  Life is fleeting and brief and during that short interval we must somehow cultivate a heart of wisdom.  We can only do that if we gain an eternal perspective during this short earthly sojourn.

The other day I mentioned to Pete that when I look back over my life I have so few regrets but the one regret I do have is that I didn't trust God more.  He immediately agreed with me and said, "Amen and amen!"  For the life of me, I can't understand why that has been a struggle.  But perhaps that's sort of like a healed blind person trying to remember what it was like to be blind.  

   

A dabbler's dream come true

As long as I can remember, I have loved learning crafts that were once necessary for life and which now have been replaced by industrial processes.  I've learned how to make soap, churn butter, make bread out of home-ground flour, knit, keep bees, roast coffee beans, shear a sheep, quilt, raise a garden, prune an orchard, keep small poultry, spin wool, do heirloom sewing, make candles from my bees' wax, can and dehydrate food, make jams and jellies, hook rugs, upholster furniture and make cheese from our goat's milk.  You name it, I've probably tried it.  I once even learned to make a basket, albeit a very wobbly one.  The irony of all this is that as a student I was never really terribly interested in history and these are all pretty much historical skills.  It was science that captured me but maybe it's the science of these different things that appeals to me.  And while I absolutely LOVE learning new skills, I have never felt compelled to perfect any single one of them or specialize in any one of them.  I just sort of dabble in them.   I want to understand and be "capable" but have no desire to limit myself to any one thing.  And heaven knows I've never turned any of them into anything profitable! As my dear husband can attest, these were never "profitable" ventures by any stretch of the imagination.  I strongly believe, however, that value should not always be measured in riches as much as in enrichment.  I've been very enriched simply by the learning and most especially by the people I've met and learned from along the way.  And I hope I've enriched a few people by passing along the things I've learned.

Today another of my dreams started to come true - today I joined a class to learn to spin and weave.  I've spun yarn from my sheep's wool before but was self-taught and I'm sure I have a lot to learn.  And I have woven on small and large looms before but again, pretty much self-taught.  There aren't many places you can go for classes in these things and I'm fortunate enough to live near one of them.   So today I took the plunge and signed myself up.  I can already tell it's going to be a life-changing experience!  I was astonished to see the number and types of looms in the room.  One of the first orders of business was to be assigned my very "own" loom.  That's enough to give a crafter heart-palpitations.  Oh, what a little beauty I begin my learning on.

This is a 24 inch four-harness loom and if that doesn't mean anything to you, don't worry about it.  It's a BEAUT.  Weaving requires you to learn a whole new vocabulary of loom parts - everything from dents, lams, reeds, rockers, rollers, harnesses and heddles to beaters, brakes, beams and aprons.  My head was swimming just listening to the experienced women talking about their looms and projects.  It also requires you to learn to read a weaving pattern (there's probably a special name for that, too, but I don't know it yet).  And I've already discovered that there is a LOT of math involved.  No calculus, just simple math so there's hope for me.  I chose a simple pattern for my first project and this is what the plan looks like.  I'm going to make a table runner using cotton warp and for the weft I'm going to use wool yarn I spun from my own sheep.  At least that's the plan right now.

The thing that captured me with this pattern was the note at the top, telling its history.  It is the pattern used to make a homespun linen towel (still in existence, at least at the time the pattern was published) that was woven by one Catherine Flick in Gettysburg, PA in 1776.  That just blows my mind.

Before I start I have to "dress the loom" which I suspect will take a while as I have to learn everything from the ground up.   Today I worked with a warping board (more math) and next week I'll get busy putting the permanent warp on.  I'm really gonna be looking forward to Mondays!  It's a dabbler's dream come true.