Monthly Archives: November 2023

Land Ho!

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This year has been one of change for the Mitton crew. Transition. Everything got up ended and turned around. I’m not complaining, just making an observation. It continued this week when I finally dyed my hair with that streak of purple. My family hates it. I don’t care though, because it was for me and not for them. We come to a point in our lives where we get old enough to not care anymore what people may think. As long as you and God are good, and your choices are wise and Biblical… a little colour in your hair is not a big deal. Right?! Check out this post if you want to here the back story on the purple hair thing, though.

Throw back to 2019 and my midlife crisis and the plan for purple hair! See the link!

Anyway, purple hair was not my muse this week. A lot has been swirling around in my head, and some family stuff has been going on, and I’m throwing out resumes in hopes for some employment. Christmas will be here soon and it is supposed to snow today. I still have a few boxes to do and my plans for the house have fallen into disarray as old habits and boredom creep back in with the cooler weather. However – I am pushing forward – slowly – and trying to keep my days full and meaningful.

I got the chance to catch up with an old friend this week. We met halfway between us, in a little town’s main street diner for lunch and a good, long chat! Something about greasy onion rings and good company can fill my heart. Yet, it was the drive home that struck the muse for this week. It’s about a half hour trek home from the diner along the country roads, which are now mostly barren of autumn colour. The last of the harvests are happening and there seems to be endless fields of browns and dull yellows with the occasional green forests. Even the farmhouses along the route seem dull, their whitewashed barn board sidings and dried up gardens blend in with the horizon.

Still, one of the remarkable landscape features I have discovered since moving east are the rolling hills. In fact, the route from the diner passes a small ski hill and at one point the car peaks at the top and cascades down. The view of the countryside is fabulous – even in its dull estate. I drove this hill a few days before in the utter darkness. And although I am not afraid of country roads in the dark, I am thankful for high beams and my GPS. It’s black out there. And the ski hill does not seem to have a bottom, so you pump the breaks and hope you get to where you want to be. Ice and snow is going to be fabulous.

One of the criteria in moving was “enough land”. We’ve been blessed with a bit more than asking, and I love it. We are hedged in by mature cedars and our view from the front porch captivates everyone who visits. However, the land means work. It means maintenance and upkeep and planning. For us, it is a change from our postage stamp sized lot in the city. I wouldn’t change it for the world, but it’s different. We have to drive more. We travel through the rolling hills and wonder who’s land belongs to who? Is this open space or property? What lies behind that group of trees? Even our little century home is visible now from the turn — our lonely streetlight illuminating our wrap around porch through the now barren trees along the roadside. It looks like a postcard – and I am grateful.

Our country stretches almost 6000 km east to west. It’s huge, but did you know that about 80% of Canada is uninhabited. Okay, we got snow and ice up north, which is why most of us are along the U.S/Canadian boarder, but 80% of barren land is phenomenal. My rolling hills are nothing. I wonder if that statistic includes owned land without housing – like farmer fields and the like, or if it is truly “empty”? Just ice floats in the frozen north?

We were discussing the story of Abraham and Sarah on Sunday and I began to wonder about Genesis chapter 12. God tells Abram to leave everything he knows and go to “the land that I will show you”. Adam and Eve were given the garden to look after, too. How many times do we see and hear God saying go here or there? Even in Revelation do we hear about a new earth. The Bible is full of discussions about land. God made this earth and its vast pockets of land for us to enjoy. In fact, He promised it to most of us. It’s work. I wonder how we will fair at clearing our brush and maintaining our gardens next year. Then there’s Abraham and Lot who got promised a whole nation!

Photo via Canadian Cycling Magazine

How we have failed to take care of our blessings. We’ve poisoned so much of our good land. Not only with pollution and environmental disasters, but our human nature has ravished Earth with war and destruction. Winter makes my neighbourhood dull. I cannot imagine raising my children in bombed out buildings and charred streets scattered with broken glass. Or cesspools of filth where poverty is so evident. I don’t think it’s the way God designed it to be. No, not at all.

And so, as I make my daily drives from here to there along the rolling hills of countryside, I must take time to pray for those whose view is not so pretty. The ones who have been given land and abused it. Or those who are trying to brighten it with gardens and wildflowers. Or those who work tirelessly to provide my food. Have you ever stopped to think about the land beneath your toes? Mine is about to be covered with a layer of snow. Whitewashed clean to make me think: “How pretty!” Until I curse the pile and pull out the new snowblower to give it a test run.

Spotlight: Mission Thrift

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Hello again my beloveds! In addition to witnessing both a spectacular sunrise and delightful sunset (on the same day even!) this week, we had the unique experience of seeing the behind the scenes workings of our local thrift store. Now — ya’ll know I love a good thrift store find — so I was more than happy to sacrifice my one and only sleep in day to volunteer at our local thrift store.

The hubby and I have been looking for ways to get involved in our community and “get connected” since we moved, so when we heard our new church had made a connection with the Mission Thrift Store in town, the hubby declared: “Oh no… thrift store?! I guess we are going on Saturday morning?” He knows me well. Being the new kids on the block, we arrived at the front door to the store (of course, I knew where it was!) locked and sealed. As I chased the hubby around the back, trying to keep up with his faster-than-most-normal-people pace. We were greeted by two other volunteers from our local church and a host of others ready for the shift.

Our Local Mission Thrift store Photo via missionthrift.com

This particular location is quite large, occupying about three storefronts with numerous donations arriving in a steady stream of boxes and black garbage bags. We learned that donations are becoming harder and harder to sort out. The stores have to be very particular. Few electronics, safety checks, non smoker donations only, dirty or soiled or too much of a good thing isn’t accepted at the door. Once inside, the goods are piled high in bins, bags, shelving units, boxes, racks and whatever other nook and cranny you can find. The goods were everywhere!

The hubby’s muscles were put to work in sorting drop offs, and I went to clothing (which was a good thing because housewares are a weakness!). Clothes are sorted and re-sorted for quality control, sizing, pricing and whether or not the item is seasonal. Nothing is wasted, but not all your donations can be used. Our consumer society has made an abundance of “waste” and I am reminded again of how much “stuff” we really have. Even with the bulk of thrift stores and donation centres we have around us, there simply is too much stuff — and so the staff have to be picky. Many textiles are sent off to be recycled, which I suppose is still better than ending up in the landfill, but it did make me think about what I put in my own donation boxes.

If you look up the Mission Thrift store website, you’ll discover that most of its stores are volunteer driven. We met several on Saturday, including a young man doing his community hours and a few grey haired ladies filling in their free time meeting and greeting. Apparently, there is one lady whose sole job was washing dishes. I hope my hubby didn’t add to her duties, because I discovered him chit-chatting in the break room on more than one tour through! Think of her, next time you see that shining display of teacups on the shelf!!

Photo via Ludmila Schnaider

Our time there was all too short, but I wanted to give you a little spotlight on this Canadian company and its roots. Unlike similar thrift stores, Mission thrift is not for profit. According to their website:

“100% of Mission Thrift’s net proceeds go to support the joint ministries of BFM Foundation Canada and Bible League Canada. The funds are used to support our local community and provide programs that encourage literacy, empower women and provide a safe place for children to learn and grow.”

missionthriftstore.com

And so my muse this week has my mind muddled with contradictions… on one hand I am reminded of how much we are blessed. The hoarded back rooms gave me an all too clear reality check of things. Things we don’t need, things we crave and fall out of fashion or style and then are no longer worthy of our keeping. Having said that, we went home with several items we snatched up before they even hit the shelves. Are we hypocrites or good and frugal thrifters? The other thought is volunteering. Do we do it enough? We were told the store is struggling to find people (especially of the next generation) who are willing to give of their time. Have we not been called to serve? Are we too busy? Have we taught our children the benefits of working without pay? Much to contemplate.

I am considering going back — to help, I mean. Since I have been granted this season of unemployment since moving, I seem to have time on my hands at the moment. There are only so many boxes one can organize at home. Perhaps I can sort somebody else’s junk for a change. Even if I don’t get a chance to volunteer, my money will support their charity for sure! Even if it is just to appreciate some super clean tea cups lovingly washed by hand.

Treasures and Time

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Greetings, my beloveds! Another week… thought I’d shake it up a bit and post a day late. Truth is, we had our first power outage last night and no posting was going to get done without power. The winds blew something fierce and we got a bit of freezing rain and then, poof! darkness fell upon the land. Thankful for our wood stove and the hubby’s persistence in purchasing wood, we survived the five or so hours of “living like pioneers”. Minus the data on our phones, and the battery operated flashlights, and the printed card game we played…

Would you like to live like a Pioneer? Photo by dogadakisakal on Pexels.com

I suppose the blackout added to my muse for today, which was prompted by a question I saw posed a week or so ago: What would be an era you would have liked to live in? Take a moment with me. Live in forever? Visit? Future? Past? I suppose the scenario may change if you were stuck there versus time travelling through… so let’s say we were just visiting. I’m hearing many of my generation and the next saying “Oh, if only we could go back to the good old days — live off the land, no pressures, no this or that” Which seems fair coming from a girl who just moved to the country to raise chickens and bunnies and learn to grow her own veggies. Still, there’s a never ending amount of work involved with those things… and no Home Hardware to help in 1800.

Perhaps some of you would say Bible Times would be the ticket. Meet Jesus and the disciples. Get a true feeling for the scriptures and the parables as a people of the time. Still, as a young woman, my life would look very very different. Perhaps my stubborn attitude would’ve gotten me into trouble. Jesus or not. Or swing the pendulum. Future? Automated everything. Convenience extrapolated to the max. What kind of satisfaction, or lack thereof, would that elicit? All fair assessments, and worthy of musing.

Where would you go if you could time travel?

A week or so ago we made an impromptu visit to an old friend who is now living in an old century home in a quaint little town not too far from us. Her place is fabulous! Perfectly accented with antiques and knick knacks that truly bring her showcase home to full beauty. I craved her secrets and sources, and kicked myself for being the realist I am, and that I am entirely too cheap. Besides, our century farmhouse has to be knocked down a notch due to dog hair, house flies and the manure patch next door. Pioneer times, my foot.

Still, I am taken in by things that various people treasure. I marvel at home reno shows and thrift finders who have a gift for finding that perfect thing. That little gem that fits exactly on that shelf and screams I am the G.O.A.T! Perhaps, you’ve DIY’d something or inherited a family heirloom that you display with pride. I found a little egg cup at the thrift store the other day that did me in. Normally, I gloss over the knick knack section (“frugal” remember?) but I picked up this little thing and hummed and hawed at the price tag (a whopping $1.98!) and decided it was too cute. Chickens. Farmhouse. Maybe even bordering on “vintage” … a farmhouse needs a chicken egg cup, right??

And so I enjoyed my hard boiled egg in my new egg cup on Saturday morning. And dream of chickens come spring.

“Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

Matthew 6:19-21

Does this mean we cannot collect the goods and find that perfect piece? I don’t think so. It’s a good reminder to stay balanced. To live with Heaven in mind. To treasure our relationships and nurture our love for others not things. I can easily get sucked in to the beauty of “things” (or creatures…) instead of my people, so I must check myself every now and then. A good power failure reminds me that all that I have right now, in this era in history, in this moment in time, was designed perfectly just for me. I am given what I need and blessed with so much more. And so, although it is fun to dream and ponder and muse about this time or that treasure, reality tells me that you can’t take it with you. Be grateful and generous. Be thankful and thoughtful. But dream a little.