Monday, July 02, 2007

"I am the one who indulges in the bread-baking orgies. And the sewing. And, once in a blue moon, the enormous family meals... A part of me wishes that life were made of only those things. As I race from meeting to train to meeting, the rhythm of home seems like a holy peace, a serene continuim for which I yearn." .... Rev. Barbara Cawthorne Crafton

I read those words this morning out on our sunny, cool front porch and remembered oh so well that exact feeling back in the years when I was overly-involved with our church. There were too many meetings and too many conflicts as I was learning to deal with people. And well, one day my very soul cried out to just stay home more with that 'rhythm of home (which) seems like a holy peace.'

And so here I am. Grateful beyond what I can describe.

And to top off everything, today is, for me, a rare shining gem--a Suzy Homemaker Monday. I'm home alone for twelve golden hours in which the possibilities for enjoyment are almost endless. I can play Big Band music while I dust or watch tv while washing dishes or I may putter in my yard's flowers. I can take walks or ride my bike or do fifty tasks around here which I've procrastinated ... and then read and nibble snacks on the porch or even paint the dining room hutch white.

I can mix it up and speed it up or slow it down. I am my own boss.

Tom and I went to yard sales Saturday morning then picked up lunch for an impromptu picnic at the park on that afghan I told we keep in the car for such times. Teen boys in uniforms were playing baseball so we sat in the shade of a maple tree and watched them as well as the kids up along the rim of that pool I showed you last week. And it was summery 1940's magic all over again.

And then yesterday afternoon we took our lunch over to the canal to watch the boats and parked the car very near the dreamiest boat we ever saw. It looked very like a wooden troller from the 1930's and the owner looked like the perfect skipper from every 1930's summery island resort book I'd ever read--thin, tanned, shirtless, grey crew-cut and grey beard. We sat and dreamed about retiring with a boat like that one in the canal with the sun streaming in upon the blanketed couch along the windows (where I envisioned myself curled up with a book). Even though, of course, deep down, Tom and I realize--give us a month out on a small boat upon the sea alone and we'd be snapping at each other like turtles.

But we spoke with the captain and his wife and they told us the boat with all it's old-fashioned oiled-wood paneling had been custom-crafted by its creator just three years ago(!) and this couple had begun their journey in Lake Michigan, gone down through the Mississippi on over to Florida and were now on their way to Lake Erie and back home. It all sounded like the dreamiest kind of adventure and we came away with our eyes reflecting sea journeys... and thoughts of trading-in everything we own for that kind of boat life--and risking the snapping turtle thing anyway.

It's fun to dream together.


The above quote was taken from Crafton's book, The Sewing Room, a collection of essays about her life which I'm enjoying much. If you like Phillip Gulley or Philip Jerome Cleveland, you'll like The Sewing Room.

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