Category Archives: Things to Do

Antiques and Adventures: A Moment in Time

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Whew! Another week has flown by! Yet time is like that, isn’t it? Especially when you get older and you’re moving “downhill”, shall we say. My current update is the same as last weeks: pallets are still on the driveway, coop still needs cleaning, and we have one out of two porch rocking chairs stained. The status of these projects hasn’t changed much in seven days. We did get a few things in the barn and tidied up before the snow flies, but the leaves are still falling. It’s actually quite sunny out today and I’m not really thinking about snow at all yet. It will be here soon enough, though.

Let’s get back to fall, though, shall we? I had a beautiful fall drive the other day through the countryside to pick up our little grand baby. He’s getting so big now… will be a year in a couple months. There’s time flying again. Really flying when you think of all the milestones a little one goes through in a year. From helpless newborn to walking, talking toddler, to helpless teenager again. Did I say that out loud? Ooops. Nevermind. I suppose we can say that time certainly doesn’t stop for anyone on this journey through our earth exsistance.

Anyway… back to my fall drive. The colours were fabulous. Golden hues mixed with brown undertones, a clear, blue sky and a winding road through little rural towns decorated with orange pumpkins and the odd farm stand of weathered wood and hand drawn signs. Post card perfect. Even for the end of the season. Once car seats were switched and snacks were handed out, I headed off home again. Grand baby and I stopped at an antique shop on the way, just to break up the journey. I was a little nervous taking a baby through a narrow aisled shoppe filled with old glass jars and pottery, especially one in an old dairy barn with a cracked (and slanted) floor. He’s a little angel though, and happily ate his cheese bagel in the stroller as I dodged in and out of the booths checking price tags.

Antiques are a funny thing. I don’t claim to be an “antique-r” but I love to look. Why do we pay so much for something so old? I’m a sucker for mason jars, and have a large collection. Still, I stop and look at the price of every jar filled with marbles. I have no idea why. I also wander through such places and think, “if I put that old window frame up on my wall, it is certainly gonnna look weird and not at all like that one in the magazine”. I even have the old century farmhouse now where such things are expected… but my decorating skills are not anywhere near the magazine people. And so I wander through antique barns checking price tags like I know what I am doing.

At the very last booth, however, I did discover two little ceramic birds. I have been craving these for some time now. They aren’t even antiques, likely. I’ve seen similar in those potpourri gift shoppe places. The price tag always deters me. These birdies, however, had a price tag on the bottom of $5.00! So, I hummed and hawed for a second, do I need them? They are a good price, so I wandered off with them to the counter.

My new little “vintage” birdies

I chit chatted with the guy about the weather, these little birds, and how I had been looking for a pair, and how cute grand baby was with cheese bagel stuffed face. He tells me they were $5.56 total. I originally thought they were $5 EACH. So, I am very sorry, nice antique guy, but I didn’t say a single thing, nor question your final price, except that we still had a bit left over for coffee … and I bubbled inside that I now had a great deal (It was mixed with a little guilt I didn’t question him, I’ll admit it! But that’s on the store owner right? The price tags were clearly labelled…)

I suppose at this point, I should muse about being honest. Perhaps speaking truth. Perhaps how our glorious Creator gives us the fall season to rejoice in. Okay, I’ve mentioned all of those things. Yet my thinking originally lead me to “time” for this post. An antique store certainly makes you question time. You literally look at pieces of history from a time past: glass mason jars for canning or marble collections. Movie posters and antique record albums. Rusty farm tools. Real wood furniture, pottery crocks, milk crates and bottles. Baskets, fur coats and license plates. Pieces in time.

My little birds are perhaps “vintage” but likely not real antique. I don’t think they serve any purpose besides sitting on a shelf to make me smile. Still, they will remind me of when a bagel eating grand baby was with me, and how he’s growing so fast. How warm the sun was on that day, and how I need to get going on those porch chairs. How God gives us limited time. Yet, for every waking minute and second of that time, He watches over us, as He does the tiny sparrow. And only He knows when our time is up. When His plan for us is complete and time will move forward with others stepping up to the plate.

Do you love an antique shop, my friend? Or do you love a modern coffee shop and bagel? Either way, it’s an outing with a friend. Or a grand baby. Or a spouse. Or a parent. This week, I’m reminded that time is special. Preserve and cherish it. For not unlike the price tags of antiques, the cost is usually high, but if you get a deal, don’t say too much: Just enjoy it.

Unfinished DIY Projects and Reflections: Another Day in the Life

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Well my lovelies… I’m sitting here on another random Tuesday, trying to come up with something to write about before putting on a pot to boil for spaghetti dinner. It’s a cool, damp day and it’s been a slow one from the start. I slept in too late. I likely spent more time on the internet than I should have. I soaked in the bath way too long and got all wrinkly. Time seems to be stuck again. The weather’s been fabulous for October and so projects keep getting dreamed up. Unfortunately, none of those projects seem to get finished. Currently, the pallets are still sitting in my driveway, and I decided to stain some outdoor furniture instead. Then, of course, it rained all morning and increased my drying time. And I forgot to clean the entire piece before I started at the back, so now will have to put off the front until everything is completely dry before I can hose it down again to wash up the front. I’m new to this staining thing, but I like it. Patience. That’s the ticket, right? True artistry takes time.

Started staining my porch bench

Luckily, I’m frugal (read cheap). So most of my inspirations have to be as well. Which, come to think of it, might not be ideal either. I think I can do it myself for cheaper, when sometimes it just pays to put the money in for a “professional”. Did you know you can paint a fabric couch? So if you buy a cheap but sturdy ugly patterned one… Anyway, here we are with another post going nowhere. There’s been a lot of moving parts on Itsnotta farm lately, and I am not sure where it’s all going to end up. Half finished projects and a pocket full of dreams?

Speaking of pockets, guess what happened to me yesterday? Collected eggs in the pocket of a sweater… and forgot them there. Which reminds me, I have to do some laundry. And there are dishes in the sink. But. Full stop. The kids are safe and well fed. I connected with a friend today who needed me. The hubby went to work at a stable job. The rains fell and watered the ground. I chased my free ranging chickens back home from the neighbouring farm field where they were taking in the bounty of the land. I smiled because I have them, and the land they roam through.

Canadian thanksgiving is coming up soon. We’ll be feasting as usual. We’ll likely complain about politics and chat about movies. We are truly, truly blessed. I’m pondering that today. Counting my many blessings. Knowing that each dream I conjure up is because I am comfortable enough not to have to worry about basic necessities. For this, I must learn to be thankful. Thankful and grateful that God has placed me here in this time and place with these people to love. So much of our world is dark and dismal. Even in abundance, there are those who are so lost.

The girls are back home, and the porch needs decorating for fall, but I am grateful.

You have heard me say it many times before, friends. Our faith journey must extend beyond our own little world. We must touch others. My projects will get done. Eventually. The dishes will be there when I am ready. We’ll find uses for the pallets. More importantly, I will love my friend. My grand baby will be prayed for. My family will know they are loved and I will be there for them in the future. No matter what the future holds. And we’ll be here for you again next week, too, my beloveds, as we travel along this journey together. So maybe this post doesn’t have a deep thought, or a significant musing. There’s no theological connection to some profound enlightenment. Maybe it’s just me going through the moments of a seemingly meaningless day and discovering there is meaning in it all. Yes, if you stop for a minute and look at the much bigger picture, it all has some meaning. It has to. Therefore, I’ll be back again next time, and invite you along, because, maybe you’re like me and just trying to juggle it all with a bit of dreaming on the side.

Transforming Pallets: An Independent Woman’s DIY Adventure

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Don’t fear, my beloveds! I’m baaaack! I guess I have been on a little sabbatical. Well, at least I haven’t been posting. Not to worry, I’m back. I have no excuses for not writing, really. There’s been no crisis, just laziness on my part. There’s been stuff happening and lots of content, it just didn’t get put out here on the internet. But… it’s Tuesday, and here I am. So let’s get into it shall we?

Wanna hear about my latest project? I’m afraid I have grandiose ideas way too often, but little results. My mother used to say I had champagne ideas but beer budget. Very true. Otherwise, I’d be stinking rich by now, right? Anyway, I went down the rabbit hole of Youtube and Facebook marketplace and ended up with about 25 pallets sitting on my driveway. And pallets are free. (Beer budget, remember?) The first batch the hubby picked up. I miss our van. The SUV just doesn’t have the capacity to fill my grandiose ideas.

The latest project…

The second batch, however, I picked up all on my own from a local guy. A story in itself. The older folk were about 10km or so away. He’d worked for a plant and had several pallets stored in his backyard, but they were getting ready to move and needed to downsize. His yard fueled my fire. A cute picket fence and a rustic looking tool shed all built by pallets. He was quite helpful and pulled the collection out onto the front yard. First challenge: backing up into his narrow driveway without going into the ditches on either side and making a fool of myself. We loaded the first batch. I can fit about 5 or so full size pallets in the trunk with the back seats down. However, my gas tank is now on low fuel. I’ll be back, but I must get gas… about 45 minutes round trip.

Several minutes later, and a full tank of gas, I was maneuvering my way back down the narrow drive. Load two. I’m hauling pallets now! Load three is now securely in my SUV, a hand shake and a wave, and I’m off with a trunk full of dreams and done my good deed by helping an elderly couple clean up their yard. One splinter later, I was musing at my day.

I’d like to think I am pretty independent. The hubby was away and I arranged all of this by myself. Strong, independent woman who can haul wood, pump her own gas and wield a hammer! Truth be told, I do get a little anxious… deals are not always safe for a single woman hauling pallets from a back alley. And in light of today’s world, I in no means want to get into gender roles, violence against women, risks of being in public spaces or any other hot topics so present in our lives right now. Yet, it did have me thinking.

I’m saddened that my grandchildren will have to go on public transit with eyes in the back of their heads. They’ll have to go to school subjected to rules put in place simply to keep them safe. Not only safe, but alive! Forget the backyard scraps, there will be cyber bullying, anxiety meds, reconciliation circles, mass shootings, bombings, and the list goes on. How was it that in Noah’s day the world was so evil that God decided even He couldn’t stand it, and wiped it out in a mass flood? Can you imagine? A world so evil, only one lone family was worth saving. Pretty surreal.

We need to pray for our cities, our countries, our world. We need to pray for the next generation. We need to love on others so hard that they can’t help but see Jesus in our hearts. And it’s not easy. There are some very unlovable people out there. Confused, hurting, misguided, unlovable people who fight back. I want to see us get back to where every Facebook Marketplace meeting ends with a handshake and a “thanks”.

About a quarter of the way through… and still working on making the world a better place!

As to the pallets? Well, like most of my projects, we’re about half way through them. (Have you ever dismantled a pallet? It’s hard work!) It has required a strong hand of the middle kid to assist in prying rusty nails from aged boards. Yet, perhaps that’s the point. Intergenerational work required to get the job done. I guess I can say I am doing my part. What have you been doing to deal with our sad world these days? One trunk load at a time, I guess. And a few prayers along the way. See you soon, friends.