The Ties That Bind

Our humble brick ranch, in Pennsylvania, used to be part of Jackson’s farm  before houses were built here in the 1960’s. It was constructed by my husband Danny’s Great Uncle Huck and his wife Dot and was lived in by the couple along with two of his siblings, Danny’s Great Uncle John and his grandmother – known simply as Granny. When we purchased the property almost 2 years ago, it was heartwarming to find remnants of the past and their depression-era ways. How they took care of things and kept them in clean and working order left their handprint of a simpler time when everything was used, repaired and saved. 

Strategically placed, there is always a pleasant breeze rising up the hill from the valley below us –  wonderful for shirts, sheets, jeans or aprons hanging on the line – Granny’s forgotten clothes line – of which I am compelled to make smart use now. I find that the methodical motions of hanging my wash in the sun never fail to bring a simple peace to my soul. The heat of the rays warm my arms and back while acting as a natural stain-lifter on my family’s clothes – fading spots into non-existence and smoothing fabric into an ironed-like state. The heat of the day makes light work of drying, and much more can be accomplished during the wait. Sometimes a few moments of peace can be spent on the back porch, sipping an iced drink while watching bees buzz around the yard stopping here or there in hopes of finding a bit of pollen.  But as we all know, that is a rare luxury these days. Most often it’s back inside with a heaping basket of veggies from the garden to plot out a plan for using up that bumper crop of collards and zucchini before Monday rolls back around. Then the piles of laundry sneak their way back into the baskets for another spin and if I am lucky, I just might catch another stolen moment of serenity again… at my clothesline.



Somewhere Between

imageDo you often feel that you are in this world, but not of it? That you lead an average life working to put food on the table, to keep a home and raise a family, but your heart longs for simpler times? And by simpler times, I don’t mean when things were easy by any stretch of the word. But a time when values mattered. Materialism wasn’t a reality because choices were few and you made do with what you had… and altered it to serve you better, or fixed it to keep it longer. Folks scratched the land to help feed their families and maybe raised a few animals or so for eggs, dairy, or meat. They went to church for fellowship on a regular basis, praising God for what they had and trusting Him for what lie ahead. People were less critical and more patriotic. A time when those nearby were neighborly, people were more considerate, children respected their elders and people were just plain open to being friendly.

There’s no reason we can’t be more like those “old timers” today.  I believe that there are many humble folks out there who would love to slow down and take life at a more leisurely pace.

This blog will share a snap-shot of my own life, thoughts, values, dreams, and undertakings. Our daily attempts and struggles to simplify in my family’s own little corner of rural suburban Pennsylvania.

A Neighborly Shout Across the Fence

IMG_2225-0Hello all! Hoping you’ll choose to join me on this journey to simplicity of living. Getting back to nature, doing things you love, spending time with family, friends and neighbors and just plain slowing down the pace of life when you can. We all know there are crazy, hectic times when you feel like the carousel of life just won’t stop spinning!   Projects at work are due, volunteer time is at it’s peak, and family obligations are plenty! It’s difficult to even keep the laundry piles from tumbling down around you and decent, healthy food prepared to nourish your family. By the way, what is a weekend? Do those even exist any more?

My goal is to carve out those moments of peace in daily living. Find balance in my world, make time to serve my God and my family, and get back to a slower pace in which I thrive.

Join me?