Ready For Another Walk (and Something Free)?

Do you remember when I lived in the 'burbs before and I'd show you photos like the one, above? 

My favorite street of houses like these was the one right beside ours and you know? Walking over to that street almost daily was probably the only thing I missed when we moved away. I so enjoyed strolling amongst those houses early mornings, getting my retro fix, then skipping back home and feeling like Mrs. Suzy Homemaker 1920 for the day's remainder.

Well, guess what? That photo was taken today just three streets away! I feel so very blessed to again, after our three farm years, be within walking distance of such nostalgia.

In fact, to you, my Readers, this street shall be known as Nostalgia Lane.

That old retro feeling in which I'd easily imagine women in aprons and head scarves stepping out doors to shake rugs and porch sit, is now just three streets away and mine for the dreaming.

And these next photos were taken only two streets from Hobbit Cottage. (Oh, the crisp, energizing air of autumn! And I love the almost Monet appearance of that tree.)

Just thought I'd share more of my new world with you. Delights are better when shared, as are Life and God. And candy, too. :)

And truthfully? Sometimes I think we feel a cranky, aimless discomfort within our skin simply because we're not sharing enough of what we've been given. Hits me that way, anyhow.

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(Always, I'm in Leave It To Beaver Land when I see garages like this one.)

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Would you like one of those old-fashioned booklet-type cookbooks for free? I received this one today in the mail and am delighted with it. Lots of recipes for autumnal type dishes, each with raisins as one of the ingredients. Sign-up for your free copy here.



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Observations

So here's our corner, Tom's and mine. We live right behind that hedge at the left. Of course, the trees are everything in this picture and pretty much in Real Life, too. Heaven help us if they're ever chopped down (on the next street over, they were cut down to widen the street, the one I take to the supermarket. Doesn't look dreadful, just more modern and streamlined, two of my least-favorite words.).

And here's what you see one block in the opposite direction (hmm... that wasn't a tour bus after all nor was it yellow. Ah, my faulty powers of observation again. See my last post if you're wondering what I'm talking about.)  And yes, that's a big blue bridge out there over the water, but since I like to remain rather anonymous here, I'll not tell you its name. :)

Beside the high rise motel there's this old house which I like to stare at (along with the water) while I'm stopped at the light. I enjoy dreaming about living there, but only for a moment, for I'm perfectly content at Hobbit Cottage, thank-you very much.

Okay, now lest you think I'm living in a low-scale lap of luxury, here's a picture for you of one of the average, scarier parts of the street behind us, though the sun makes it appear more cheerful. Honest, we now live in the midst of the cheap and the run-down, with only pockets of nicely-kept homes.

These, for example, are sweet and lovely and they're just across from the homes, above. And that's what you find lots of here--pockets of homes which need not decorate for Halloween because they're tilting and peeling and sad-appearing already, right next to other pockets of dearly-loved homes all bright and tailored.

But I've found to really know what's inside a pocket, you must take the time to pause and look around inside it. Oh, how easy to stroll quickly past these sad places out of fear and make assumptions! No, God is teaching me that in each scary house around here lives people who He loves very much and may I always remember that and knock-off the judging from the outside. And love everyone also, sight unseen, because they're loved already by Him who I love most.

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A little example... last night around 9:45 I was awakened by a domestic disturbance (it appeared to be) down below me outside at the opposite corner of our street. I peeked down from behind my curtain, the voices cooled a bit, then I wandered downstairs where Tom said even patrol cars were there earlier, but the officers had oddly done nothing while one loud person tossed plastic bags out of a pick-up bed and left them on the corner. Hmm.

I climbed sleepily back upstairs and prayed for all involved, even remembering some of Tom's and my own heavy-duty arguments and though usually they happened inside our houses (or cars), that's not a whole lot nicer (as in, it doesn't make us better than those people outside last night).

Anyway, this morning the bags were gone and all that was left was an ugly tv cabinet. Tom said later the couple appeared to make-up and he smiled and said they probably told each other, "And let's just leave that tv cabinet since it's too disgusting to take back home, anyway."

Oh, and nothing else like that has happened here since our move 8 weeks ago, so please don't picture it happening nightly. And too, I've chosen to view this whole Hobbit Cottage In The Big City experience as an opportunity for ministry and helping rather than fearing and hiding.

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Oh, and NancyR left a comment this morning to an earlier post asking what we did with all the stuff in our barn loft. Truthfully? We left it all there, all but the old chandelier we'd found on the curb. That we sold at our moving sale. We'd already explained to the new owners that we'd be leaving some barn items and they were fine with it, even a little excited to see what they'd be. :)

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Quite This and That

See the little bird couple? Yesterday I painted the green square around them because I think just about everything looks better with a background of color. (So why will my livingroom walls most likely remain white? Because I'm not the young, zippy painter I once was. Alas. But I do plan to paint that archway a lighter green someday.) So anyway, I love that green square and would like to perhaps stencil a curvy something above it. We'll see.

Last week I finally got these non-skid strips attached to our stairs. Didn't want to mess-up their old-fashioned look, yet didn't want to slip, either. I'd slipped a couple times (just from the second step to the first, not a big deal) so I'd taken to coming down the stairs like an old lady, all slow and touching each stair with both feet before continuing (BOR-ing). But now? Now I come down them all speedy like a pro. Nice.


Oh, and on Saturday Tom and I went to the old-fashioned theater and saw two movies(!) To get him there, I said, "How about if we go see Planet of the Apes today?" I knew he'd be all for that. He was. But then after that film (which was better than I'd imagined, though still quite silly), I talked him into staying for another viewing (for me) of Midnight in Paris. Happy sigh. I enjoyed it just as much as the first time (oh Paris!) and Tom liked it, too. (I didn't ask which movie he enjoyed more, though--he might not have given the correct answer.).


But we both returned home smiling for the rest of the night, thanking one another for making our outing so much fun.


During our three years on the farm we came into town just twice for movies, once at this favorite cheapo-old-timey theater and once at the flashy-big-deal-expensive one. So I guess we've been making-up for all the movie outings we missed! Though of course, this is one of those odd, rare times when we've actually had a choice of good, decent movies to go see. Years past we've been in moods to go see something for weeks and weeks and weeks, but have been frustrated that nothing worth viewing ever did show up.


But here in our new life we've actually had too many choices and how delightful is that, especially now, before Tom and I go into hibernation when the snow flies and movie dates become just pleasant memories.


And lastly, tomorrow our two new storm doors will arrive (the third house in Western New York to receive storm doors from us) and on Wednesday our glass block windows for the basement will be installed, too (same goes for this being the third basement, ditto, ditto.).


Soon Hobbit Cottage will be a snug little place and I'm happy that we can do this for her. I hadn't told you, but our neighbors said this house had been vacant for five years--oh my! How sad for her. Our real estate attorney pieced together this story: a couple lived here many years until both passed away, then their children sold the house to people who could not pay for it and it went into foreclosure and just sat here, lonely, for all those years.


But now Hobbit Cottage has another couple within her walls again and oh my, am I ever happy to be part of that couple!








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Good Happens

In seven years of writing in this blog I've tried to convince you of all sorts of things. But besides the fact that we all need Jesus, this is the other major thought I'd like you to carry away:


It's up to us to make our lives wonderful. It's up to us to believe for remarkable days.


So well, you can consider that while I share this:


Probably the silliest photo and concept you've ever seen shared in a blog is this:

I am hopelessly in love with this bathroom tissue holder.


No, really. At the old farmhouse, just to remove an empty roll you had to push a button which would then make the permanent roll shoot across the room. Then you had to pick it up, figure out which end went in which way (it mattered), add the new tissue, then struggle for at least five minutes to fit it back into the holder, picking it up whenever it, again, fell down (usually in the trash can. Ew.).


Gah, I hated that thing.


But here at our adored Hobbit Cottage you just poof! Slip off the old empty roll and poof! Slip on the new one.


What luxury. What ease. What a full-blown blessing.


Moving on...


So for a few weeks my computer rested upon a chair and I sat on a tiny bench in front of it. Good gracious, got so I could barely walk when getting up from the bench. Well, there came a day I had to admit I'm no longer 16-years-old and can no longer sit in any ol' position. So here's my new set-up:

Again, oh the ease, oh the luxury.


Yet I am able to still handle sitting on the floor for awhile, so here's where I read and think and even pay our bills:

I use the little bench as a table to write upon and the extra bed to hold the books I'm currently reading, plus a writing tablet, some lists, etc.


Some 'experts' say you should not combine office duties in your bedroom because your head will think it's supposed to be working when actually it's time for bed. But alas, this hasn't bothered me--I sleep blissfully here at Hobbit Cottage. Oh, and I do shut-off the computer at night, lest that concerns you electronic-wise. Concerned me, also.


Much of my whole world is upstairs here: my little tv and dvd player, our ironing board and iron, my library of deeply-appreciated books. My clothes, a wicker chair, drawers for office supplies, my stereo, cds, art supplies and a full-length mirror (something I'd not had in our house for whole decades, but figured I should have now so it would inspire me not to let myself go. Alas.).


I came here expecting life to be better and oh my, God certainly hasn't let me down. I've shared various examples with you, but here's another, though it begins with a negative. See, that Facebook thing was being a bother again, so after I drove down to Naomi's apartment to feed her cats (she was out of town for a few days visiting Nashville friends), I thought, "I'll drop by 7-11 for a doughnut to help me work through this Facebook fiasco some more when I get home."


So I pulled into the 7-11 around three blocks from our house, stepped inside and the woman working there greeted me happily, as though I was a regular customer.


I'd never been there before in my life.


I bought two doughnuts (one for Tom), and she and I chatted friendly-style at the check-out. Then as I neared the door, a man with a very long grey beard already held it open for me so I thanked him as I always do when people hold doors for me which happens a lot here in Western New York. He cheerfully responded, "You're welcome."


Then I drove home beneath trees overhanging the streets, leaves fluttering down, came into the house and told Tom, "People are just sooooo nice here!" To which he replied, "Yes, they certainly are."


So please, if you've not gotten into the habit already, pul-ease start expecting good things to happen to you instead of bad, ok? Have faith for wonderful events rather than sad ones. 

Keep believing, being kind, and Life just may appear differently than it ever did before.









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Psalm 5:3




In the morning, Lord, you hear my voice; in the morning I lay my requests before you and wait expectantly.


 
 
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You Might Not Believe This (But It's True)

I forgot to tell you something pretty incredible about this new life of mine.


While I shop at my local supermarket, they play Big Band era music. And stuff from the 1950's, like Doris Day and Nat King Cole and Rosemary Clooney. Weekends and weekdays.


Oh. My. Goodness.


And it's not like this supermarket is some local Mom and Pop set-up, either. No, they're a major chain in New York and Pennsylvania and this is one of the large ones, an International.


I drive to the market early mornings, anywhere from 7:30 to 9:30 and there's Benny or Glenn or Doris or Rosemary playing or singing me down the aisles. Sometimes I even have to keep my feet from dancing. Sometimes people push their carts past me singing along with Bing or Patsy . Other times they whistle along. Or hum.


Sometimes couples, old or young, get a little playful in the aisles. One husband even embraced his wife, they slow danced a couple steps, then he twirled her by the hand.


Does it get any better than this?


I'm thinking probably not.  :)

Hmm.... In case you're wondering if this post is for real--yes, it is. Come visit me some early morning and I'll take you the six blocks to my supermarket and you can watch the magic for yourself.  It'll be fun.




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And once again, here's the amazing website Dolores shared with me filled with stations which play 1940's and 50's music.




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And speaking of  'once again' I must repeat that I'm absolutely loving my Dollar Tree book, A Matter of Choice, edited by Joan Chatfield-Taylor. Could hardly be more perfect and really, I need to get back down there to search for more treasures! (If you enjoyed Thoughts of Home and If These Walls Could Talk, guaranteed, you'll love this book, also.)




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Oh, you must do this. (Pretty please?) Go here and listen to this youtube song while picturing yourself grocery shopping. 

If you're a woman I'll bet you can't help but see yourself in a full-skirted dress and clip-on pearl earrings while pushing a cart around. This is one of the types of music my market plays and--when they do-- suddenly I'm transformed into June Cleaver.  




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Deuteronomy 8:10




"When you have eaten and are full, then you shall bless the Lord your God for the good land which He has given you."




Trust me, I have and I am!  ツ




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The Good and Bad of Lately

Gah. I had to bail out of my dearly loved Facebook. Something hacked my profile there and was giving me and my friends a royal headache.


ThisIsJustATestThisIsJustATestThisIsJustATest.......


Please don't share horror stories about Facebook in my comment box, ok? To me it was an encourager's dream come true. I'll miss it. Now I'll have to rely upon hearing from God more so to know when and how others need to be encouraged, but of course, anytime we need to rely upon God more, it's a good thing.


Perhaps someday later I'll join back up, but for awhile, I want to see how I deal with being Facebook-less. Can I handle it? Tune in next week. heh.


I first noticed the problem at Facebook this past Saturday and was upset and considered staying home and trying it fix it rather than watching Contagion with Tom. But then I realized a trip to the theater would be refreshing and Contagion would put all of this into perspective and oh my goodness--it certainly did! :) Having a Facebook problem in no way compares to millions of people losing their lives through sickness.


Oh well... Life goes on. We heard that those of us in the Great Lakes Region are due for the worst winter in, like, a kazillion years so that certainly gives Tom and I incentive to continue winterizing around Hobbit Cottage. On Friday the last four 80-year-old windows in this house (not counting the basement ones) were replaced and oh! How wonderful to just sliiiiiiide a window open with a finger rather than push and shake and yank it open. These new windows are dreamy.


My winter grocery stock-up continues and my oh my that downstairs 1920's kitchen has certainly come in handy for that. Sometimes I step down to the basement just to peek at those extra groceries and I call them Good.


Of course, I could just sit here and dread the coming winter, but I'm choosing not to. You realize we do have those choices, right?


Our heater and I are coming to terms, too. At times we've been bitter enemies! (Darn those complicated programmable thermostats anyway.) But finally we're both figuring each other out and calling a truce. Finally.


But a glass pie plate did shatter (crash!crash!) everywhere from our stove top yesterday because I'd turned on the wrong burner (again). %^$#( . Whenever we move, it seems the ability to use the correct burner without thinking takes forever. I'd just finally come to that point in the farmhouse.


Oh well! These things take time. And patience. And in the meantime Life is still wonderful, especially as I keep my mind disciplined to concentrate on what is good and lovely instead of what's oh-so-annoying.






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Alone? Never.

So I'm skipping around from essay to essay in A Matter of Choice, choosing by title the pieces which sound interesting. And chewing each one, slowly.


But I felt sad for one of the authors this morning when she wrote this about arriving in Mexico for a vacation (of sorts), alone:



"I realized that I had never, in my forty-seven years, had dinner alone in a restaurant...  When I think about going out, an advance video runs through my head: I am sitting at a table trying to look content. The restaurant is filled with smiling, chatting people. I am the only one alone. They are staring, pitying me, wondering where I'm from and why I have no companion."




Good gracious! That's how I always felt, but way back in college at 18 while I sat in the cafeteria alone. The ol' square peg being forced into round holes thing, that was me and a major reason I spent only one year there. I actually preferred eating alone while reading a book--it was the supposed stares of pity from others I minded, though now I realize teenagers are so self-absorbed that probably no one even noticed me enough to pity me. Alas.


But long before I turned 47, I'd grown past those silly fears and often I'd go out for coffee alone or to movies, these times actually pitying other people because they couldn't see Jesus sitting right there beside me. 


No, seriously. I'd always place my purse on one chair (or upon the floor) and leave one empty chair for Him and we'd have these secret rendezvous', well, that's how I like to remember them.


 My 40's felt downright enchanted because I'd been 'practicing the presence of God' (have you read that amazing book?) since age 35 when some pretty special things happened (long story). And how marvelous to become more aware of what Jesus is saying about you than any perceived criticisms by strangers.


Well, my 50's didn't start out exactly in the enchanting realm, but they're traveling closer now. I've returned to my Real Life, the one pre-designed by God (who knows best) and once again He and I are hanging-out at local coffee shops and movie theaters and having a grand ol' time.


And today? Today I'm hoping you can easily sit in a restaurant or a theater, coffee shop or church  and feel whole, even alone. 

That you don't need another person or certain clothes, houses or cars before you feel loved, accepted and just fine. And that wherever you find yourself, you can turn your face and glimpse Jesus, Himself, pressed against your shoulder and hear Him whisper, "Today and always, you are so very, very loved."








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A special thanks to Kim for posting this quote at Facebook (it also helped inspire this post):




"And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don't believe in magic will never find it." -- Roald Dahl




The photo, above, was taken outside of the window above our kitchen sink.




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A Sweet Surprise

So I told you that for a year God's been giving me the ol' Never Assume Anything test and mostly I've been failing, but oh! Lately I think finally I'm getting it.

At least I got it today.

See, I needed to drive to our local Dollar Tree store for various and sundry items and I caught myself thinking, "Hmm... too bad the books they have there are no good, because I'm really in the mood to buy another (cheap) book. But let's face it, if a book is at Dollar Tree, most likely it's there because nobody wanted it at a real bookstore. Maybe it should never have been written in the first place."

Of course, God jumped all over that. "Oh Debra.... you're assuming again. Why not go to Dollar Tree and expect to find a delightful book this time?"

Why not, indeed?

So that's what I did and wow. My oh my oh my. I discovered the perfect book!

Some of you may recall that I adored the dreamy quality of the essays in Thoughts of Home. Well, this new book, A Matter of Choice, is stuffed with essays, too, though these reflect what happened after people made decisions to change their lives. Or had their lives change without really having a choice. Even the rhythm, the cadence of the essays is extremely similar to Thoughts of Home.

Wow.  Perhaps you've noticed that my whole life has recently changed and well, now I've got this book of kindred tales from other folks, stories with lessons learned. And oy! I've read only the first two essays, but at the end of each I became a bit frantic, "No! No!Don't end it there. Tell me what happened next!!"

Happy sigh.

I'd begun to resent the ol' Never Assume Anything test, but lately as I've begun to accept it, learn from it and do the things I've learned, well, I'm changing my mind. And changing, period. And isn't that what it's greatly all about? Obeying God, allowing Him to change what's all so very wrong, and reaping good, life and attitude-changing things, instead?




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Again, this new book is called A Matter of Choice: 25 people who transformed their lives. The essays were compiled by Joan Chatfield-Taylor. Read about it here at amazon.com where it costs only 1 cent (!) or you may want to drop by your local Dollar Tree and take a chance it'll be waiting for you.


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"Be it unto you even as you have believed..."  ... Matthew 8:10


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The Perfect Library Down The Street

So we'd lived here 5 1/2 weeks yet I'd not visited our local neighborhood library only one mile away.

Yesterday I changed that.

I stepped into a dark, mysterious room and instantly felt catapulted back 80 years and into a whole other land. But actually, this room housed shelves of books for sale so the dark mystery of it all proved not quite so great, especially when you've got over-40 eyes like mine which can barely read without glasses in the light, let alone the dark.

Well, after lots of squinting and carrying books to the middle of the room beneath the one sorry-excuse-for-a-light, I delightedly found two treasures:

So with my two lovely books I stepped through a doorway into a tiny room to the left, one filled with sunlight from two huge windows, a sitting room with oak chairs worn smooth and the latest newspapers and a few magazines. 

Then I stepped into a hallway and followed voices and black-and-white framed photos of our town's early days until I came to a larger room with arched sunny windows and shelves full of adult fiction. While wandering around, I discovered a tiny corner room, perhaps 8 by 4, and I believe it held maps. 

How fun to just wander through this 1800's brick building where even the women's restroom off the hall appeared delightfully old, what with its heavy wooden door with a sheet of that special glass you can't really see through and it's marble floor.

Happy sigh. 

A mysterious, old library just down the street with tall, windows, marble floors and tiny rooms like cubby holes off larger rooms, all rather maze-like. 

In the 1920's the library shared that building with the police station, jail and post office (until the 1950's). There used to two smaller branch libraries like this one, but this is the only neighborhood library (I read online) which has survived.

And oh my, am I ever grateful it has.


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After reading that this building was one a police station, all those tiny rooms now make sense. Interrogation rooms and personal sheriff offices, etc., alas! Feels odd to think, though, that children were coming to this library while people sat in jail cells, below. Hmmm. 

The article I read said that the post office moved out in the 1950's, but it didn't say when the police station left.


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Lesson Learned (Or: Keeping It Simple From Here on Out)

This early morning I decided to drive to WalMart (forgive me, those of you who hate that place) just to check-out their prices since I'd not shopped there in three years. You know, just to stock-up on a couple things since I'm in the middle of my Annual Grocery Stock-Up So We're Not Braving a Snowstorm Just For a Can of Olives. Just a simple trip, you understand.

Oh dear. I'd forgotten there is no such thing as a simple trip to WalMart.

Ever since moving to Western New York 18 years ago I've had to contend with an Overload Tendency when shopping these stores back here. If they're not huge in building size, they're huge merchandise-wise. Oh, the amount of stuff you can cram upon shelves when you're determined! I even, all those years ago, stepped outside of two stores within two minutes because of sensory overload inside my brain. Thought I was gonna hyperventilate or something.

All these years later? I can handle those shops much, much longer than 2 minutes. I'm all the way up to around a half-hour. That's how long it took at WalMart this morning for the tick-tick-tick of the clock inside my head to begin, as well as the whispers, you know, "Better hurry, you're running out of time! Stay much longer and you'll lose it right in front of everybody" whispers.

Gah. So I zoomed around with my cart just grabbing things, pulled two coupons from my purse, then raced up to the check-out and got the heck out of Dodge. What a relief.

Okay, so most of WalMart's prices were lower than those at my nearby sane supermarket. But as long as I keep shopping the sales while using my coupons there, too, I'm spending the same (or even lower) than I would if I could handle WalMart overload.

And let's face it--no amount of money saved is worth losing my sanity.  :)


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You should've seen me when I stepped through our backdoor. I described my adventure to Tom, kept repeating, "I'm so glad to be home, I'm so glad to be home," and found myself tempted to kiss the kitchen floor.


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Anyone else been there, done that?


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"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."  ... Phil. 4:13  (Well, only "all things" which were His idea for me to do in the first place...)


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After 30 Years, The Dutch Couple's New Home

So do any of you remember this darling little Dutch couple? 

They awaited us at the farm when we first moved there and since my grandparents had a very similar message box when I was a child, it felt as though my dear grandparents awaited us there, also. 

(My sister and I used to write silly messages in theirs until our parents would tell us, "Stop wasting all of Grandpa's and Grandma's tablet paper." heh. ) 

One family owned that farm for thirty years so I pretty much know the Dutch couple message box was theirs and it remained beside our kitchen storm door inside our (dark, dreadful) back porch another three years, but no one ever scribbled a "we missed you" message for us in all that time.

Once just for fun I did open the tiny door and ack! A huge, hairy spider stared up at me. Brrr... Somehow I got him out of there (it's all a scary blur now as to how).

Well, I left many things behind us on the farm (even my dearly-loved clothesline), but I was determinedly brought this Dutch couple, even though they'd belonged to the farm before we did. To leave them behind would have been like abandoning my grandparents and how could I do that? 

So on my way out on the day after our Big Moving Day, I grabbed that little box off the door frame and hauled it away into the car with a host of other trifles. Then yesterday I put that sweet pair up beside our front door here at Hobbit Cottage, right where they belong. Perhaps now someone will scribble us a note inside, but in the meantime the little Dutch couple smile outside in fresh air at their new home.

Ah, contented, just like I am here in this perfect house on yet one more sun-sparkling autumn day.

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Oh! Thanks for your messages about my books. I'd love to hear from more of you about the books you also have and love.

Kristi--thanks for reminding me about Spice Box. I'd been trying to think of a book to begin rereading and that's a perfect one. There was much description about her old home and then about the changes she made to it. Just what I'm in the mood for now. 

Oh, and I do also have Della Lutes' Country Kitchen, but the spine cover is missing so I usually tuck it away someplace else. I did have Home Grown but I didn't like it quite as much. Cousin William is one of the best books ever written on this planet, in my opinion. 


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Hebrews 13:5


Let your conversation be without covetousness; and be content with such things as you have: for He has said, I will never leave your, nor forsake you.

 
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My dear grandparents. Sweetest people on Earth.

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