Sunday, September 1, 2019

What were your first jobs?

Happy Labor Day, everyone!

I love this old photo of our three sons taken back in the 1990s. I remember stopping them that hot summer morning, when they were leaving for work with RH, to take this photo. I also remember feeling so proud of the hard workers they were.

There's not much these three guys can't do--and their sister also! Only one is still working in the family business of roofing and remodeling, and he took it over a few years ago when RH went to semi-retirement and I retired fully from the bookkeeping and office end of it.

This picture made me start thinking about my first jobs. I wonder if any of you have as odd a resume as I did as a child?

When I was little my father was produce buyer for the Kroger grocery store chain in mid-Tennessee, and in October my little sisters and I would dress up in cute Dutch costumes from his Holland bulb rep, complete with wooden shoes.

Each Saturday that month we would go to different local Kroger stores in Nashville where a big spring bulb display was set up in the parking lot. Music played on the loudspeakers outside and my sister Deb and I passed out Dutch cookies to customers. Our little sister Teresa was in costume too, an adorable toddler holding tight to Mama's hand. My fourth sister Jenn was still only a future gleam in our father's eye.

I doubt if we got paid anything but we got to keep our costumes and eat cookies so we were happy.

I hated my second job but it only lasted a few weeks. When I was 15 my father found me a job as a sidewalk Easter Bunny for a local shopping mall where every bratty little boy pulled my fluffy tail as I handed out candy Easter eggs to children, hopping up and down the sidewalks outside the stores.

Thanks for that one, Daddy.

The next one was better, also found by my father for me with a man we went to church with who owned a soda fountain shop. I was good at this job and my milkshakes were to die for.

During my junior and senior year of high school I found myself a job for the month before Easter at a local dimestore owned by a wonderful couple who were so sweet to me. My job was to make up beautiful Easter baskets and I got to combine all kinds of toys and books with the candy in the baskets, add beautiful pastel colored cellophane to wrap them in and a big floppy bow at the top.

Mr. Douchin tried his best to get me out on the floor waiting on customers after Easter was over but I was too shy for that. Later on they turned the store into an art supply store that I shopped at as long as they remained in business. And each time I went in, Mr. Douchin teased me about being too shy to wait on customers.

The summer I graduated from high school I went to work part-time in our church office. This was mostly volunteer work as my boss, the pastor's wife who was church secretary, assured me that I should be paying her in exchange for the office training she was giving me. That was fine with me because I knew she would be giving me a good reference to a job I wanted at a large religious publishing house in Nashville. 

Silly in love me, an engagement ring on my finger, wanted a job, not college. It wasn't until our first two children were in elementary school that I went to a community college.

I worked a few days a week that summer at church, typing and learning to run copies off on the large messy mimeograph machine. I learned to answer the telephone properly and be discreet enough not to discuss anything said on it with my friends. I listened to a lot of advice on proper business procedures and business etiquette. And each week I entered the Sunday offering amounts from envelopes into a ledger. One time I found a $20 bill in one envelope and gave it to Mrs. Harrison. She smiled a funny little smile but didn't say anything.

Later on in life I wondered if that had been a test. If so, I must have passed it because by September she helped me find a good job at the publishing house uptown as receptionist for one of the magazine departments where I got to type up accepted articles for the magazine after they had been proofed by an editorial assistant. 

After a year they transferred me to another department as a stenographer, a promotion. A couple of years later I passed the test for editorial assistant and was waiting for an opening for that when I decided to leave work when RH and I bought our first house and decided to start a family.

Those were my first jobs and I'm grateful for the experience of them--well, maybe not for the Easter Bunny impersonation. What were your first jobs? Any Easter Bunny embarrassing moments for you?

Happy Labor Day to RH and our four children, and Happy Labor Day to each of you!


Friday, June 21, 2019

Supper Thyme

Did you ever put thyme in pie?

If you haven't, consider putting it in blueberry pie now that summer is here. 

Here's the link to Southern Living's Thyme-Scented Blueberry Pie.

I added a cup of frozen cranberries to the recipe because I didn't have nearly enough of the
blueberries the recipe called for.

RH said it was the best blueberry pie I'd ever made, but maybe that had something to do with the crust. The recipe calls for refrigerated crusts, which I've been known to use, but I had been wanting to make a crust with vodka so tried it.

Oh, my word, the vodka does make it so tender!

Recipe here from Cook's Illustrated.

The recipe called for the crust to be made in a food processor. I had never done this but I bet many of you have. I am directions-challenged but read the recipe over and over and finally did it.

You can't possibly know how proud of myself I was to do this instead of using my trusty old pastry blender.

I'll tell you one other thing I did last week for the first time in over a year--I drove myself to the grocery store and shopped alone, carried in the groceries alone when I got back home.

And I was so proud of myself! You see, part of what I've been doing the two months I was on my blogging break was going to physical therapy two times a week, three times a week the first month.

I've had bad knee pain since January and was diagnosed with patella femoral pain syndrome, similar to runner's knee. The therapist also discovered I had tibialis anterior tendonitis. 

Since I had felt this winter that I was soon going to need a walker to get about, I have been faithful to my PT appointments and doing the exercises at home. And next week, God willing, after almost three months, I will be finished with PT but of course must continue the exercises at home--if I know what's good for me.

So that, combined with my computer being down for three weeks, made it easy for me to almost drop out of blogging. 

But a blogger I am and so to blogging I returned in my last post. Just as once again driving gave me a renewed sense of independence, so blogging gives me that indefinable unexplainable feeling of accomplishment too.

Those of you who blog or are on Instagram, etc., do you feel this way too?

No one may really care what we had for supper except ourselves, but isn't it fun to share?

The organic vegetables above went into Jacob's Lentil Stew, recipe here. I also added a couple of turnips to it as we really like the tang they add to vegetable soups.

Thank you for reading my rambling supper post. What are you having for supper?

Here is supper. It smells good.
It looks good. It tastes good.
It is good.
All good things come from You.
Gunilla Norris in
Being Home 


Monday, June 10, 2019

Roses and Cake and A Gardener

I was a mere 17 years old here in my father's rose garden, celebrating my birthday, even if I do appear to be a serious matron.

Is it the hairstyle or the dress or that I'm scowling into the sun? At least I had a waistline back then and the only one I'm willing to share here now on the www. 

That didn't keep me from wanting a birthday cake recently and this lemon bundt cake from Cook's Illustrated was yummy, even if I still miss the strawberry shortcakes that Mama made me every year on my big day. 

I still prop my birthday cards up somewhere for the whole month to enjoy as long as possible.

And RH gave me a rosebush for my birthday.

 We were surprised that there were no roses planted at this 1935 house when we moved here except for this huge wild one growing in the hedgerow with honeysuckle and blackberries.

Deer nibble on almost everything in our front yard so we haven't been able to decide where to plant roses since the back garden is pretty full now. 

I'll always love roses and associate them with my birthday and with my father who always had rose gardens.

RH reminded me recently about the time each spring when my father would have a special rose sale at his two garden centers. 

He ordered so many each year from a Texas grower that after they had filled all orders they'd offer Daddy a tractor trailer load of leftover bare root roses free if he'd pay the $250 freight bill.

RH remembers unloading them when they came in on Friday and on Saturday Daddy would have our local WENO country music radio station (now a gospel station) send out their mobile unit and it would broadcast live from the garden center, advertising 10 cent roses. 

 [newspaper photo with my father in the center,
my uncle on the left, brother-in-law on right,
and RH kneeling]

Cars would line up all up and down the road with customers for our traditional annual sale. Obviously there was no profit on the bare root roses but most people ended up buying so much else that it was well worth it, plus a lot of fun. 

Until the very end of his life my father always gardened. He had since he was a small boy helping his mother work in her flower and vegetable gardens while his older siblings helped his father on the farm, and he never let old age or illness stop him.

I know he's beautifying heaven's gardens today and making sure there will be plenty of roses there for my mother who loves them.

My father and I share birthday months and so I always think of roses on both our birthdays and birthday cakes--strawberry shortcake for me and sometimes German chocolate cake for him.

But mostly on his birthday I think of the best father four daughters ever had and the best gardener I ever knew.

Garden on, Daddy!

Saturday, April 6, 2019

A Tudor Vegetable Garden and A Pause

I have been captivated by this illustration of a Tudor vegetable garden ever since I saw it in my 1935 Woman's Home Companion. 

I'm familiar with Tudor Knot Gardens but I've never seen a picture of vegetables planted in this style except for those dreamy but luxurious vegetable gardens in Monty Hall's French Gardens. 

One thing I love about my vintage women's magazines is that they are full of the most beautiful paintings done by the great illustrators of those days, many who went on to have their work in museums and art galleries. 

This illustration is by Harrie Wood and the article it illustrated was written by Marni Davis Wood. Related? I couldn't find out but the illustration is of her actual Tudor vegetable garden. 

She describes each and every planting in it but admitted that the one drawback was how to keep the garden symmetrical when they pulled a head of lettuce. Key to the garden was "intensive cultivation and succession planting of crops."

I love it for its artistic beauty but I also love it because it is so beautifully tidy. Which is strange because I prefer gardens that are English cottage garden blowsy.

But don't you think that if Marie Kondo had a vegetable garden it would look much like this?

I guess I love tidy gardens and blowsy gardens. I even love wild gardens. In this 2 1/2 acres surrounding our house, there is a big patch I asked RH not to mow and so many unusual wild things (weeds?) have grown there. But I would not want our whole yard and garden to be wild. 

 A certain amount of weeding must be done, both in our gardens and in our lives so that the terribly paralyzing feeling of being overwhelmed is addressed.

And so, I'm giving myself permission to pause posting here at Dewena's Window for a while to pull some weeds in my life and tidy up a bit.

This is only a pause, God willing. And I'll still be visiting a couple of blog friends each day.

A woman must find time for a little inspiration. A whole day cannot be devoted to weeding, can it?

Of course not! 

[RH would never forgive me if I didn't make it clear that I'm speaking of weeding figuratively as he is the one who does the actual weeding in the yard!] 


Monday, April 1, 2019

When the Swallows Return to Capistrano

Does anyone other than me remember that old song recorded in 1957 by Pat Boone?
When the swallows return to Capistrano,
that's the day you promised you'd come back to me.

It was not known as much as its flip side, April Love, which was a #1 Billboard hit from the movie by the same name. Pat Boone starred as Nick, a slightly bad boy sent to a Kentucky horse farm belonging to his aunt and uncle as a condition of his parole for joyriding in a stolen car

Shirley Jones as Liz was a local girl falling for Nick, who at first only had eyes for her older sister. By the end of the movie, the two were in love and almost kissed. 

You had to be a very young teenager to have appreciated the corny movie. I was.

 Ah, Spring love! As tender as the chartreuse green leaves on the trees here in Middle Tennessee. 

After coming home from shopping and errands the other day I put these lavender tulips from Trader Joe's in a vase in front of an old streaky mirror and was inspired to put this plate of swallows I found at Goodwill beside them.

 The pattern of the plate is fittingly named 'Capistrano' and immediately made me think of Pat Boone singing the old love song about the swallows of Capistrano.

Capistrano is San Juan Capistrano in Southern California and sadly, the swallows have stopped returning there each Spring. I found several theories about this online, from the insects the birds ate no longer being in the polluted creeks due to development, to there not being enough mud now for their cliff nests, again due to development.

The swallows used to arrive in Capistrano from late February to about March 19. Isn't the migration of birds fascinating?

Purple Martins flew in last week here, to the clean condos in the sky that our neighbor always has ready for them. But the martins leave us about mid-July whereas the Capistrano swallows stayed in Capistrano until October 23 before their flight to Argentina.

The martins here are such a welcome sight here at Home Hill as they soar and swoop, catching insects in the air over the pond. And I remember the barn swallows at our old house were lovely to watch also as we sat on the patio before supper watching them.

I understand that San Juan Capistrano is trying all kinds of things to bring the swallows back and I hope they succeed, don't you?

Meanwhile, I'm enjoying them on this one plate found at Goodwill by Trend China from Japan.

Thank you all so much for your thoughtful comments at my previous post on the woman in the green dress and her French Normandy home! 

So many of you wrote that you live in older houses with the craftsmanship of days gone by and that you too wonder about the history of those who lived there before you. One of you even picked out your dream house from the slideshow of beautiful homes in Cleveland, Ohio.

Ruth mentioned the little windows near the front doors on many of the houses, wondering if they could be in a cloakroom. I bet they are, Ruth, and it's a long time since I've heard that word.

One of you had visited Normandy, Madame Là-bas, and wrote that Canada had many settlers from that region. 

And then Mary Ann wrote about her own mother's experience during the Depression, one that so many went through of wondering where the next meal would come from.

My own father talked often of being a child during that time. They were lucky in that they were farmers and grew and raised much of what they ate. 

Not everything in my 1930s magazines were the reality of most women reading them, were they?

Perhaps no closer to reality than for many of us the stylish blogs we avidly follow? 

But we certainly do love them and are inspired by them, don't you think? Just as my mother was by the women's magazines of the 1950s that I remember her reading with so much enjoyment.

I'm wishing you all an April as tender as Spring Love!

It's chilly here now but I already packed away the red wool blanket folded at the end of my bed and spread out the old peacock embroidered sheet that RH and I found at the Nashville flea market over forty years ago, two small children in tow.

Spring will turn into Summer before we know it, won't it? And with Easter late this year it will feel like summer days will be upon us after that.

What have you done to welcome Spring to your home?

I wake up every morning to see this old picture across from me, so it's always Summer in my bedroom!

P.S. First lilac sprig sighted outside the window this morning!



Friday, March 22, 2019

Story of a 1930s Woman and Her French Normandy-style Home

Today is our tenth wedding anniversary. You may think it odd that I've chosen to celebrate this milestone at home. I turned down John's offer to take me out for dinner and dancing in the city, and my best friend's insistence on a party in our honor at her house.

Tonight I want only to be with the three most important people in my life, John and our two children. At nine years old, Johnny is growing up so quickly and little Joyce won't be a baby much longer either. The years ahead will pass all too quickly.

As I set the table for dinner I can't help thinking about the years when the children were so young and John was always home from work to see them before they went to bed.

Now he works such long hours to see his company through a tough year.

Maybe we shouldn't have built the big house last year, but we both fell in love with the houses of Normandy when we honeymooned there, staying with a friend John met during the War. John says that when this Depression ends, the house will only rise in value.

But will it be too large for us once the children are grown and gone from home? We've not been able to have a third child yet. I've always wanted a house full of children and even grandchildren someday.

And John by my side, us growing old together.

I think back to our first anniversary when John and I celebrated at our favorite Italian restaurant.

We were so much in love and so happy talking about what we would do the next day. Our Sundays alone together were so important to us because we worked in the city six days a week.

As we ate our dinner, John told me his plan for our returning to France in five years. We were like children let out for recess in our happiness, discussing all that we would do and the places we would visit. 

Our plans changed once the children came along, only postponed, John insisted. 

I hear Joyce coming down the stairs and turn to see her pulling her dolly behind her and rubbing her eyes sleepily from her nap. I put the last plate down and hurry to her, forgetting about Paris.

Paris could wait. It always has.


You all know my love of the 1940s and 1950s. I have an armoire full of women's magazines from the late 1800s through the 1960s but have tended to ignore the many 1930s magazines produced during the Depression years.

But recently I began wondering about the homes and families of that time period because our house was built in 1935. I've been spending hours immersed in those 1930s magazines and have become fascinated by the women of those years. 

I kept coming back to one woman in an ad for laundry soap, wondering why it drew my eye.

 I love her green dress, her hairstyle, her pearls and her poise. And then I found the perfect home for her, in the same magazine, a French Normandy house. 

Aren't the clustered chimneys fabulous? And the slate roof and the green shutters? Look at the casement windows. I've always loved casement windows but can you see that the little awning window over the casement is open on the second story? I wonder if all of them open? Darling!

And the porch is quaint, don't you think? Hopefully, it will never be ripped off by an HGTV host, being that it is in a historical district.

This house is from a real neighborhood, the very desirable Forest Hill in Cleveland, Ohio. The entire neighborhood was planned to include only house designs of European Provincial architecture. 

It is on land from the John D. Rockefeller Estates. Four hundred French Normandy-style houses were planned but only 81 built. These houses still stand as they were built of masonry walls, concrete slabs and steel joists.

Here is a link to the historical society there.

The pictures of the Normandy-style houses are gorgeous! You are in for a treat if you watch the slide show of the houses. I even spotted the exact windows I talked about on many of the houses.

Have any of you ever heard of this neighborhood? 

One of my favorite books of old is Came A Cavalier by Frances Parkinson Keyes, set in Normandy. Have any of you who have had the good fortune to visit France ever been to the Normandy region?

Thank you for reading my story and for indulging my new passion for the 1930s!

[All of the above pictures were from the March 1932 issue of Ladies' Home Journal.]


Tuesday, March 12, 2019

Needing Sunshine in My Kitchen


This picture our son took of our youngest granddaughter says Spring and Sunshine to me. 

It captures that essence as well as our granddaughter's thoughtful and curious nature.

I know it's not officially Spring yet but sunshine and daffodils are as good as a spring tonic to me.

I'm just craving light after so many rainy days, are you?

RH helped bring more light into our kitchen recently when he drastically pruned two big holly bushes that are up against the house, one that completely blocked the smaller window in our kitchen.

I've never shown the "black hole" on that end of the kitchen but here's a picture from Christmas where you can see it down at the end. That small window that is covered with a holly bush is the exact same one that you can see in the corner of the big window. Huge bush and it made that end of the kitchen so dark.

Now here is the same small window with much of the lower part of the bush removed. Light! Even on a cloudy day.

I know that most of you would probably have cut down the whole bush--but then where would our large finch family live? And where would the cardinals shelter from the rain? They were upset enough with us from this trim job. You should have heard them fussing!

And even the big window has more light now and I can see more of our yard to check up on BreeBree and James Mason when they're in the pen playing. (That green pile on the ground was just one of the huge piles of holly branches that has now been taken to our neighbor's burn pile.)

I was so happy with the additional light in my kitchen that I went around snapping pictures as RH was snipping away outside.

That's my pink, green and blue blouse reflected below in the silver tray behind my cooking spirits. Okay, I admit it's not a blouse, I still had my gown and robe on. Am I the only one who photographs around the house not dressed properly for the day?

And then the sun came out for a peek and I went nuts snapping photos of it shining on things in my kitchen that weren't used to seeing it.

If you remember, the open shelves and pot hanger was the first project RH did here after we moved in two years ago in January, with the help of his brother.

Oh, look at my little brown-eyed girl basking in the sunshine!

Here's the two old agate enamelware buckets we use to hold potatoes and onions. We've had them almost as long as we've been married and that's a long time.

I know I already showed you my pot rack but it's just the absolute best solution for a small galley kitchen. The stainless steel rod had been in the barn at the old house for years and is one example of RH being right in never throwing anything away. 

That may be one example but many more examples exist that might not agree with that if you knew just how many dumpsters Zack and Courtney had to rent just to empty out two barns, a smokehouse and cowshed when they bought our place.

Here's another space saver, a granite lazy susan that our daughter Christy gave RH for Father's Day one year. It holds all the vinegars and oils.

You'll find post-it-notes up on my cabinets, and granddaughters' drawings, and quotes I'm loving, and prayer lists that I can see every day.

A new addition to the kitchen is the oil painting I commissioned from my daughter-in-law years ago with a paraphrased Bible verse from Proverbs done in raised letters all over the painting. I couldn't capture the writing in the photograph but it says:
Words satisfy the mind as much as fruit does the stomach; good talk is as satisfying as a good harvest.
 It originally hung over my dining table at Valley View, a reminder of how important good conversation is, then moved over the bathroom mirror here, the only place I had room for it. 

But with a planned bathroom repainting here soon and finding a quirky old black and white picture at an antique store in December added to the bathroom, and another second one, with plans to look for more, I took all pictures and objects with color out of that room and found the perfect place for this in my kitchen over the door leading to our breakfast room/dining room/sitting room.

Here's a picture of RH's kitchen project of last summer. He, with the help of two sons, replaced the old tiles that were not only ugly but downright dangerous with luxury vinyl plank flooring in a pattern I chose called Scratched Stone. I absolutely love it and after 12 years of having black and white checkerboard tile in our kitchen at Valley View--gorgeous but showed dirt so easily--this distressed look is so forgiving. That white streak is sunshine!

After putting down the new floor they moved a cabinet over some five or six inches where it would be snug against the stove. The gap, of course, was because stoves were much larger when this house was built in 1935. I toyed with the idea of choosing a retro replica because I badly wanted a white range to match the white dishwasher and fridge. I checked with the company that Rue's stove was from but hers is gas and ours would have to be electric and they didn't have the same good reputation as the gas ones.

And the really expensive white larger electric stoves were just that, really expensive. So I settled for a new one that cooks great and has a beautiful blue enamel interior but is no star in a blog-worthy world of beautiful gas stoves.

I'm just glad there is no longer a gap between stove and counter.

Here, see below how the coffee pot counter is moved down from where the upper cabinet is? That's the cabinet the guys moved. I love the little bit of extra floor space it gives us and makes a perfect place for my babies' water bowl on the floor but if you're the one putting down a fresh bowl of water for BreeBree and James Mason, watch out for your head on that upper cabinet!

Both RH and I have seen STARS a time or two until we learned our lesson.

And there's something else I taped up on my cabinets, a menu I want to make soon and don't want to forget.

After the new floor was finished we went looking for something to put in the space below to hold stuff. We looked at expensive made-in-China cabinets and rolling tables, etc. in stores until I got stubbornly passive-aggressive and refused to buy any of them.

We were both frustrated with the whole day but I asked to be taken to the nearest antique mall where we split up with a focus on any possible contraption that could hold stuff and still have character.

RH found a dry sink! 20% off and under $70 with tax! And oh my goodness, it fit right in there with a 1/4 of an inch to spare. I tell you, passive-aggressive sometimes works!

That's me reflected in the black hole below to photograph our new find. James Mason was very interested in it even before snacks got put inside.

But look at that raw wood showing on the cabinet next to it...wouldn't you think that we would have thought to paint it before we put the cabinet in? Or even when the kitchen walls got painted white after the new floor was put down? 

Neither of us noticed it then. 

And who's going to do it now after the dry sink is loaded down with stuff? Most of you would!

You're going to laugh when I tell you that the guys did paint the other side of this white cabinet when they painted the room. You can see it painted white two pictures down. I mean...?

But I was so thankful for this white cabinet that we brought with us from Florida that was leftover from a job RH was on. Rejected because the measurements were wrong, it has three drawers of storage space for all my baking things, and the cabinet guy found a beautiful piece of marble for RH to top it with.

We had intended to someday paint the wood cabinet of drawers that the microwave sits on, in the picture below. This cabinet was a tool box for RH in our old house. But I claimed the top three drawers here for spices, etc. and tools remain in the bottom two. Compromise. 

Now, to a few more hopefully planned little projects--all of our projects will be little ones from now on, we've promised ourselves.

See the long florescent light on the ceiling? I don't want to insult anyone else's florescent lights, but I hate them! And since the kitchen here is one of the warmest rooms in the house I hope to replace it with a simple white ceiling fan with one light in it.

So that's number one on my wish list for this spring.

There's even a picture of a fan on an upper cabinet. And it will stay there until that florescent light is gone. You would be very surprised how many things actually get done if I just put a picture of it over the coffee pot.

I think I'm skipping around in order here with my pics. I put these pictures all up on the post last weekend and now am trying to write the story to go with them, not my usual way to post.

I think I just wanted to show you my solution here for storing the stacks of clean white dishtowels on top of the fridge.

The kitchen door, below. It and the trim around it need painting badly. The claw marks from five basset hounds that lived here before us are still on the outside of the door.

I'm so grateful that RH installed a storm door here after we moved. I keep the door open to the light whenever I'm in the kitchen. And BreeBree and James Mason don't have to claw on the door to get back inside from their pen, all they have to do is look at me through the glass door. Those poor bassets!

The first thing we do when we come in the kitchen in the morning is open the door to see the pond and to see if the geese have flown in yet for the day. Part of the year they sleep on another pond in the neighborhood.

Here's another mini project, see the light fixture over the sink in the picture below? Guess who picked that out? Ha! I can tell you that it sure wasn't me!

Looking for something else there, folks, not sure what but I'll know it when I see it. 

The kitchen cabinets could use painting too but for now I'm just calling them distressed.

The light fixture down by the open shelves is a sweet little inexpensive chandelier that was over the sink at Valley View. A sentimental favorite but I'm wanting something easier to clean for the sink area.

I kept hoping the sun would stay bright for these pictures but that's shy March for you, springtime one moment, winter the next.

It will come though, and the sun with it.

Whether March is sunny or cloudy, it is still beautiful, a harbinger of beautiful Spring.

Here's a cloudy springtime photo of our other granddaughter, taken last spring--or was it two springs ago? Maybe so because she has just had her hair cut and donated 10 inches of that blonde hair.

I'll have to ask permission to show you her new hairdo soon, after I get over the shock of our little girl growing up so quickly.

Thanks to their father for their beautiful photographs!

Wish I'd had him here to take my kitchen pictures. On the first day of Spring I'll be taking the picture below of his down and changing it to one of Spring blossoms. 

A few years ago for Christmas he gave me pictures he had taken representing the four seasons of the year and I love them so much and have made a little ritual of changing them on every equinox. This winter one is frozen ice bubbles around the dogwood buds in his yard.

I know this is another one of my long posts and I intend to do much shorter ones next, but I hope you enjoyed it. I know that I always love to see the kitchens of my friends, whether they are big showstopper kitchens or small cottage kitchens. 

Our daughter and son-in-law recently moved from Florida to Montana and it made me so happy to have a FaceTime tour through their house the other night. 

You just have to be able to picture where your children live, don't you? And the kitchen was the room I was most waiting to see. It was gorgeous!

Thank you for bearing with me on this long post, even if you did scroll quickly through it! But I love this little galley kitchen of ours so much and wanted to share it with you, now that there is more light in it.