I have a few ideas bumping around in my empty brain for blog posts this week, but none are sticking today. I was going to share about my new love for bird watching. Then about bird houses and nests and homes and hospitality and then got distracted by shopping and thrifting. Did you see the birdhouse thrift makeover I finished? I entered it in a “flip” contest…. You’ll have to vote for me soon!
Speaking of thrifting… Now that we live in an old farmhouse, I have kinda fallen in love with old quilts. A friend just gave me one because “she couldn’t think of anyone else who might appreciate the ragged thing”. I’m not sure what she meant by that. Nonetheless, I found one the other day at the thrift store … with birds on it! It’s reversible, and came with two pillow shams and was a fabulous price and I really liked the colours in the store. Now that it’s home and on our bed, I am not so sure. The hubby thinks it’s “too old lady”. What do you think?
Pretty? Or too Old lady?
A recent Facebook memory reminded me I have an unfinished rag quilt sitting in a box. I started it during the pandemic… and it is almost finished. Digging a bit deeper, I discovered I wrote about it. Digging even deeper, I have found that my interests really haven’t changed. My environment has… but we still have a puzzle on our dining room table. (I guess we actually did like that activity… and have discovered it again here!) We still need connection. We are still gifted differently and work together like pieces of a puzzle. We are still the body of Christ working together.
Anyway… enjoy this “blast from the past”. Perhaps it will encourage you that we are different, but the same. May it stir up memories of lockdown and how the world was reminded of basic human needs. May it encourage you to get a few projects out of the box. And finish them.
Welcome back. As I sit here, the wind is howling all around me, and our old house is creaking and complaining at the disturbance to its peaceful existence in the world. So many times I wonder why things have to change. I wonder why do we have to grow old, and why does the world not appreciate age for its wisdom and value it for its shear survival? I suppose change is good in some ways. Technology has moved us forward. We live longer. Without change there would be no seasons. No progression, I suppose. I muse, but I know better. We’ve been designed to have our moment, and then it’s over.
Many of you know I am a thrifter. I love a good second hand store. Partially, because of the simple fact I am “frugal” and refuse to pay retail. I suppose the environmental impact influences me as well. Recycle, reuse. Rednecks recycle because they’re cheap though! 🙂 I love a good find… especially if the store doesn’t know the item’s value and it’s reflected in the price tag. Other times I wonder where on earth the staff pulled their number from. I’ve yet to be a “professional” though. I wait for the day that I walk out with a piece that I can envision on one of those road side antique stores where diamond rings are encrusted into the back of some obscure framed piece of cats drinking tea. Turns out it was painted by some turn of the century artist who died tragically, mauled by his tea drinking cats, and his works are now worth millions. Never happens to me.
Nevertheless, sometimes a thing just strikes my fancy and I want it. The hubby often laughs, because occasionally I pick weird stuff. Old “junk” that I hope will be used and transformed into something beautiful. (Like an old century farmhouse in the middle of no where… just teasing!) This was the hope at a recent thrift visit. I found an old wooden bird house on the shelf. The wood was well weathered. The paint irrefutably peeling and well worn. It was five bucks. I hummed and hawed. I walked around the shelves some more. As I placed it on the check-out counter, I asked the cashier if she would consider a lower price. It was clearly some redneck farmer’s excuse for firewood. She could not negotiate, she says. Five bucks. It came home with me.
Was it worth the $5??
I can clean it up and fix it, right? Old farmhouse deserves a weathered old birdhouse, right? It was crusty — but the back was held on by a secret hatch — I pulled out all the remnants of a past inhabitant and scrubbed and sanded and dumped all the dirt and debris. My craft room lacks descent lighting, but after it was all dry I hiked upstairs to give it a fresh coat of paint. I wanted to keep it “rustic”, so it isn’t perfect. I thought I might add flowers or something to brighten it up, but old wooden snowflakes worked better… so it’s going to turn in to a winter ice palace for the birds!
I’m sorry to say the project isn’t completely finished yet, so I can’t show you a “before” and “after” only a “before” and “work in progress”. Perhaps it will draw you back to visit us again… I have several bird feeders and houses around the property. Some were here, some I brought with me, some we’ve purchased. Others we thrifted. I’m hoping all the birds will come to my yard. A pair of mourning doves have been hanging around. I haven’t seen them before, so I am thrilled. I hope spring brings some nests! And baby birds to share with you!
“Work in Progress”
Are you a bird watcher? I miss my big picture window of the old house. I still can see the birds and squirrels here, but I have to go from spot to spot to catch them all. Warmer days will find us on the front porch where we have a better view. Not that the birds need my help. I marvel time and time again how teeny tiny little fragile bodies survive our harsh Canadian winters. Bird bones are fragile. Bird bodies are full of air. You can literally crush them with your hand. And I worry about my bunnies under the heaters all winter.
Oh my beloveds, may these thoughts be encouragements to you this week. Things change. Things get old and are different, yet there is still value in the change. We must embrace it, encourage it, with a splash of new paint and wishes for more time to be used by God. Maybe things are not the same as they were, and we creak and moan with the annoying wind, but we stand firm. We are sheltered by His hands from the harsh realities of life. We appear fragile and worthless. Easily crushed. And yet all our needs seem somehow provided for.
Sometimes we get a little help from others. And that’s okay. We are a community and we must look out for one another. The wind is gonna be fierce some days. Perhaps you need to just hunker down for a bit and wait it out. Perhaps you need to seek shelter or be the one who creates it for someone else. I don’t know where you’re at today, but I’m thinking about you. May you sparkle like my new (old?) ice palace birdhouse!
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We did it! We did it! We did it! Hooray! Now that I have Dora the Explorer’s theme song running through my head and yours, let me give you a little update on what exactly we did. If you’ve been following along, you’ll know that we have tapped a few of our maple trees to make maple syrup this spring. Well, our minimal research and best laid, however naive, plans, made me host a “boiling party” this past Sunday. I invited a few friends over to sit by the fire with us and see how the day went. I thought it would be relaxed and fun. Roast a few hot dogs, maybe, get at least half of our sap boiled up, and perhaps bottle a bit.
As life would have it, our plans don’t always work out as we expect. First, our sap is frozen. Stored in the freezer to keep it fresh. That’s fine… but after an overnight thaw, we still had big chunks of ice. No worries, right? Gonna boil it down anyway. Big chunks of ice don’t fit in my shallow pans. Then it rained the night before. Which means our wood and fire spot was fairly damp. We did save some fuel indoors (because we did check the weather!) but the hubby still had a hard time getting the fire going. And he usually has no trouble starting fires. Wink Wink.
Now remember, we’ve never done this before. We have no idea what we are doing. Yet, we march forward… fire going. Pans boiling. Sap levels start going down. Things appear to be working. Let’s put another pan out and try the bar-b-que. Yeah, that will work. We won’t mention the propane bill. I have fed my guests hamburgers. They are gracious, long time friends whom we love. They don jackets and “check on the fire” and encourage the hubby. We drink coffee and complain about the cold.
Hours have past. So, let’s get to the crux of this story. We have “thickened” sap. Our research tells us we can “finish off” our syrup inside on the stove. Everyone tells you not to do the maple syrup inside because it makes everything sticky, but this “finishing off” part needs to be monitored. The temperature checks and precision is needed to get the sap to the syrup stage… so it is okay to do this part inside on the stove. Okay. Stock pot locked and loaded. Two inches of sap from an entire 12 litre bucket. Candy thermometer marked at 219 degrees F. And then we got distracted. Chit chatting outside. Thinking the other was watching the pot boil. Disaster. Our syrup was burnt sugar.
Disaster
Okay, okay. Let’s fix it. I break out the candy molds. Maple sugar candy… that’s a thing, right? The family says add water… we boiled again. Yes! Syrup! Bottle it in our cute maple syrup bottles… wait. What are the floatie things? Eww. Is it supposed to look like that? Google. Apparently, one must filter the sugar sand or niter that remains in sap-syrup. Coffee filters don’t work. I spilled some. The syrup is now thick and sticky…. and drips and drops are everywhere! On my elbows, on my counter, on the stove, in the sink, in pots, pans and bottles. Sticky rolled up coffee filters with sandy grit are piled and discarded. Spoons and taste testers are left on sticky counters. Our friends have abandoned us. This is why they tell you don’t do maple syrup inside. It becomes a sticky situation!!
After 6 or so hours and all that… we have two 250ml bottles of thick, clear, sweet maple syrup to enjoy! (And 9 or so more buckets in the freezer to do it all over again with!) Seriously though, we had fun. We learned through trial and error. We laughed, we panicked, we yelled a little, but in the end: We did it!
We did it!
And so we come to the life lesson of boiling day. So often, we get ourselves in sticky situations, don’t we? We plan an Instagram worthy party with good friends. We think it is all going to be fluffy and romantic. We underestimate the time needed to invest. We think we will get so much more accomplished than we do. We try. We learn through trial and error and mistakes — and Google? We yell a little. Things get burnt. We waste precious resources and get distracted when we should be focused. We end up with big messes that need to get filtered through the One who is in control of it all.
Psalm 40 shows us how to get out of that sticky situation and stand again on solid ground. The stability (with all the sweet benefits) of being in the hands of the one who has laid out “good plans” for us. God no longer wants our burnt offerings, as sugary as they may be to us. He wants honest, raw worship and obedience. He wants us to call out to Him in those times of trouble, so He can lift us out of the mess, and show others the Way. It’s tough work. Sometimes it’s messy and things don’t go as planned. Sometimes we have a lot of cleaning up to do. Often, we get given the chance to do it all over again — and learn from our mistakes, as we work towards “perfection”.
Keep following along. The Mitton crew has buckets full of more chances at perfection sitting in the freezer. And if you receive a cute bottle of syrup from Itsnotta Farm — ignore the floaties –and enjoy the sweetness! Just know it was painstakingly life lessoned and prepared for you with lots of love and time!
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