Category Archives: Musings

I Wanna Go Home

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“I wanna go home!” is usually shouted by a frustrated five year old who isn’t getting their own way at school, or the mall, or in the drive through. It’s usually accompanied by a stomp of the foot and hand clasped in tight little fists before angrily shoving them on teeny little hips. This phrase can also be heard in a quiet whisper to a extroverted husband by his very introverted wife at a social gathering where she knows very few people and is going on entirely too long. Or the awkward teenager who can not stand one more minute with nosy relatives on this family vacation reunion thing that they didn’t want to go to in the first place. Insert eye roll and retreat to the car for “quiet time” (i.e. texting random friend who wasn’t invited).

“I Wanna Go Home!”

Home. I’ve thought a lot about it over the last few years. We uprooted our children from their childhood home to move out here. The hubby has moved several times. What’s home for him? Is it “stuff”? Is it the people who live there? Is it your experiences in a place you are familiar with? You know the back roads and how to “get home” quickly when there’s traffic. You can wear whatever you want at home. You can dump all your stuff and kick off your shoes at home. What makes a house a home? How would you define it?

I moved my bunnies into their “new home” today. Baby chicks are coming soon and the bunnies needed to be out in the sunshine, on green grass after a long winter. So off to the bunny run they go. It was interesting to watch them sniff the familiar and “mark” it as their own with cheek rubs. I wonder how they will adapt to the unfamiliar? Will it make them nervous and stressed out, or will they be curious and embrace the change? Will all three get along now that they have bigger space? Time will tell.

Getting the New Bunny Home Ready

We’ve been at our house for almost a year now and some days it feels just like home. On other days I am overwhelmed and unsure of what to do next. Does “creating a home” mean it’s decorated perfectly and all the paintings and pictures are up on the wall? Or does it simply mean having a comfy bed to crash in at night? Perhaps that’s different for different people. Many folks never sleep well when they are away. Still others can “flop” on anyone’s couch as they pass through. Maybe age has something to do with that, too.

Home. I’ve been sharing about my new robin momma on social media. She has built her nest in the corner of the barn. Most days she flies out and up to the nearest tree when we walk by. I don’t think she is quite confident in her new home not to retreat to safety when someone gets just a little too close. I don’t think there are any eggs yet, so she may be a bit more diligent in “staying home” when there are kids to take care of. I’m told birds build nests when conveniences are nearby… food, water, protection. Perhaps those are things we look for in what makes a house a home.

There’s a lot to muse about with regards to this idea of “home” and why we want to go there. Safety. Security. Familiarity. The people we care about are there. Treasured items are displayed there. There is comfort and peace among the things and the people you host when you are “home”. I recently read that your home is a reflection of who we are… and even who we want to become. It’s deeply personal. Which accounts for all the emotion behind “I want to go home” bottled up in that five year old’s display of assertion.

…Welcome Home…

These thoughts have come during an emotional week for me. My beloved and dearest aunt passed away, and we celebrated her 97 plus years of faithful servant hood to the Lord before laying her to rest on Saturday. She was surrounded by those she loved. She was witty and kind and sharp as a tack, but her body couldn’t keep up with her. In the end, it needed help from medical intervention, but her heart “longed to be home”. She hated that hospital bed. “I want to go home” she’d say with all the verve of a stubborn five year old. I know that this statement partially meant her physical home, with the familiar and safety of her things; but so much more it meant her “home” in Heaven where her heart was. Her life was a reflection of her “Heavenly Home”… where all her prayers would finally be answered, and true comfort and security was in the arms of her Saviour. We have the hope in knowing He met her at the door of her mansion, and with a smile on His face, said: “Welcome Home”.

A Revisit

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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.

The Puzzler

The Lost Boys of Barlowe Theater

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When we first moved to our old century home, the youngest definitely thought it was haunted. The previous owner had some family troubles, and although he loved the place, he just wasn’t able to keep it. The pool was a murky, bottomless pit of despair, and we kept dredging up odd objects: goggles, a glove, sunglasses, small animals. We were sure the previous owner had murdered his wife and her lifeless body would one day float to the top of our summer project.

The Latest quirky find in the yard…Any guesses?!

Then we discovered quirky things within the old house. A weird spot for a light fixture that didn’t turn anything on. A “secret” tunnel through a duct in the guest room closet. (We followed it as far as we could and only found dust bunnies and mice droppings). Then the basement storm cellar hatch was sealed off from the outside… only leaving a tiny hole. Could something other than chipmunks hide there? And what about that bullet casing we found in another closet? Could the date scrawled in black marker on it mean anything besides a first hunting expedition? How about the poor Elf on the Shelf lost in the basement rafters? A Christmas tradition gone wrong, or was he left to haunt us with sprinkles as we slept? What about the rifle-sized floor board in the porch that just so happens to be loose….

Don’t even get me started on the woods. How many half finished projects did we find out there? Just kids goofing around or were hermits living off the land in a previous life? And the rumours of the “pot house” nearby burned to ruins? Local legend? Or something more sinister? The land has been owned by the same families for generations. Whose to say our century farmhouse wasn’t akin to the black sheep of the family? One never knows what the walls would say if they could talk….

Of course, I am just kidding about all these things. We did find some quirky things left behind, but they are just tidbits and old junk. The previous owner of our property was a nice guy. Still, we love a good story, don’t we? It may be nothing more than a rumour fueled by a piece of history gone haywire. Shared secrets by the campfire, designed to frighten us just enough to keep us on our toes. So it is with Christy-Award winning author Jaime Jo Wright’s book: The Lost Boys of Barlowe Theater. Finally, a “romantic” book that wasn’t gag inducing! I quite enjoyed it! Just enough intrigue and mystery to keep you on your toes, and plenty of thought provoking paragraphs.

“Those folks who’d been dealt a hard blow by life should’ve experienced the grace of God through the actions of sharing and service. This was why Kit worked at the food pantry…. People were what mattered most. Not buildings. Not even history. The here. The now. The souls whom God let cross Kit’s path to be impacted today so that in the future, their legacy would speak of healing and not brokenness. Of hope and not destitution. Of God and not a world alienated from its Creator, who wildly loved all people.”

The Lost Boys of Barlowe Theater pp.332-333

It’s a twisted tale of rumours steeped in small town suspicions. A parallel between two girls, Kit from present day, and the young lady Miss Greta Mercy from yesteryear. Both linked by ghosts and tales of something deadly lurking beneath the stage of Barlowe theater. Who are the lost boys? Who is the lady in white? You’ll have to read it to find out. It’s a good read. Easy enough to follow as it jumps back and forth from past to present. In the end it all comes together, of course, like a Christian version of Scooby-Doo and Mystery Inc. As an added bonus, the author includes her own “background story” and discussion questions. She weaves her own character into that of adoptee Kit.

” ‘Then you’re not abandoned. You don’t need anyone else but Him. That’s why I’m not afraid. Not afraid of losing my job, not afraid of people leaving me. Human nature is conditional. People, unfortunately, are conditional for good or bad reasons. But God is not. So you trust Him, you step out in faith that others will care for you in His strength and grace, and you realize that sometimes people make mistakes. They leave you. Or they betray you. Or life just sends you in different directions.’ …She hated his truth. Hated the way he’d stated it so bluntly and plainly, and yet he was right.”

The Lost Boys of Barlowe Theater pp.230

Overall, I have to admit that this was a delightfully creepy story that had just enough intrigue to keep you engaged, with bits and bobs of inspiration thrown in. Only a hint of romance. Just the way I like my books! Apparently, it’s also how I like my farmhouses. Eerie elegance? Perhaps that should be my next decorating style. Incorporating the left behind Elf on the Shelf maybe. Nah, I just love a good story, don’t you?

Available now at Bookstores near you!

I’ll have to check out Jaime Jo Wright’s new book on BethanyHouse.com for 2024. If your interested, The Lost Boys of Barlowe Theater is available now at numerous locations. Happy Reading, my beloveds!