New Photos of My Country Kitchen

My farmhouse kitchen is large huge, about the same size as most rooms in this house...20'x20' and eight people can sit comfortably before resorting to perching on the hearth or moving a dog off their bed. The kitchen is painted Martha Stewart's Bee Balm Red and curtains were never used because the window valences allow the 9'x3' windows to let the outside in. 

The cabinets, hand built on site, are birch and have piano hinges; some cupboards have glass windows. The pass through, to the living room, was made to allow both conversation and light to pass between both rooms. Hand made baskets are lined up over the sink and most were made either by my Grandmother or me. The metal dipper is for grabbing a drink of water so I don't dirty a glass (well, that's the way we've always said it). 

The table came out of the old Pembroke Bank in Giles County VA and still has the leather top and screw holes that held down an antique adding machine and two drawers are on one side. 

On either end of the table are sturdy chairs; one is a Morris type Chair and the other is a chair with heart cut-outs. I've had the heart chair for, maybe 40 years, and the Morris chair was given by a friend 10 years ago. Alongside the length of the table is an antique three seater choir pew and when additional seating is needed, I bring out the bench Daddy made two decades ago.

If you're getting the hint there's nothing much new in this house, you'd be right. I believe the wormy chestnut rocking chair is newest and it's made of re-claimed barn wood.

The stove is a refurbished 1914 Acorn cook stove; it has seven propane gas burners and three ovens with a warming oven on top left. For the story behind the stove, click here and here. 

The fireplace was re-built using slave made brick from the original farm house (which burnt during Christmas 1899) and in lieu of a mantle, now boasts a slab of wormy chestnut. The original lithograph is The Gleaners, an oil painting by Jean-Francois Millet, finished in 1857 and hanging in the Musee d'Orsay in France. The three peasant women glean a field of wheat after the harvest and remind me of Ruth in the Old Testament. The story behind the painting is here and I hope to visit the original at some point in the future.

The mantle is lined with trip treasures...a copper coffee container Dave purchased when he visited a Romanian Gypsy village (I stayed in the vehicle due to feelings of unease about our belongings being left alone...a good thing, as I was in the back of the van, a man climbed aboard and was quite startled to see me!), sugar and tea containers hand crafted by the nomad Bedouin's in the Sahara Desert. Dave bought those while we were in an antique shop in the Marrakesh souk. The kerosene lantern is from the 1800's but the hand thrown pottery flower vase is newish, purchased from an old friend who was laid off from the coal mines then taught himself to throw pottery. The vase is only 15 years old so it's almost brand new -lol.

The gas log insert broke and was replaced with a propane fireplace that brings more heat into the room and I enjoy more than the gas logs insert.

All the crocks are original and handed down through Daddy's family; the smaller crock sitting on the propane fireplace, and the larger crock to the far right, are both from my Great-Grandmother and still in use when I churn butter. The smaller crocks are used to make pickles using my Grandmother's Bread and Butter recipe.

The rocking chair on the right is made of re-claimed wormy chestnut barn wood and was Amish made to sit alongside Dave's Amish made casket at the wake. It's a nice, sturdy chair and gives me good memories amongst the painful ones.

So, that's part of my kitchen and a portion of the stories. The Welsh type cupboard can't be seen and if anyone is interested, I'll post about it of if you'd like to see something close up, let me know. The kitchen is a Working Kitchen and everything in it earns a living by doing what it was made to do. Someone asked, "Aren't you afraid you'll break _____?" and I replied, "If I do break it, it'll be broken while in service and not being dusted.

Life was meant to be used, hearts were made to be broken and, when we're most blessed and fortunate, all put to rights again. Please don't put "whatever" on a shelf or keep in wrapping paper; put it into service today! Have your memories be good ones...when you were on holiday and bought ___ or the family said, "Sandra would enjoy having that rocking chair" or salvage something from your family...or even the thrift store...give it a home and make your own memories so you can tell your own stories.

Because memories are the key 

to both our past and our futures.

Blessings ~ The Gleaners ~ 1914 Acorn stove ~ Morocco ~ holidays ~ memories ~

Rhythm or Arrhythmia...?

~ wise man, wise words ~

Rhythm or arrhythmia is the question of the day. I am most fortunate because my days are spent doing those things of my choosing. Granted, it's mostly work, in fact, the overwhelming majority of my day is spent in work but...it's work of my choosing, so I am blessed. I don't intend to ever retire and, when my time comes, want to die doing something useful in being of service to God.

Some days Rarely are my days spent thusly:

"I meant to do my work today ~ 

But a brown bird sang in the apple tree,

And a butterfly flitted across the field,

And all the leaves were calling me.
And the wind went sighing over the land,
   Tossing the grasses to and fro,
And a rainbow held out its shining hand—
   So what could I do but laugh and go?"

~ Richard Le Gallienne ~

Even when I'm outside, enjoying the bounty of God's nature, I'm working...chopping thistles, mucking the barn, repairing fence, water proofing the porches, sweeping, checking the livestock water troughs, but always, always enjoying the weather, scenery, voices of birds, horses, sheep (neighbor's), cattle and wind. There is a rhythm to my days and, like most, I am a creature of habit. The night before going to bed I check my lists, cross off that which was accomplished, write in what needs to be done the next day. My very early mornings are dedicated to needs of house animals, then coffee for me, followed by devotions and a walk to the barn to tend to farm animals. After, I check e-mail, various businesses and then begin my real work...whatever that is -smile-.

A few days ago, I began mowing the pasture between the house and the hay field. This pasture has some steepness to it and wasn't long before my nerve left me and I called Andy. He's my help from last year but, this year, has been helping the neighbor down the road. He said he'd be here one day after work and today was the day. He showed up while I was across the mountain buying diesel for the tractor; I didn't want him to run out! Andy drives like he was born in that tractor seat, as do I when on flat ground -smile- but on hills, I'm frightened of turning over. I've known, or heard of, a few farming accidents already this year and don't want to be yet another statistic.

This week's housework is limited to shampooing rugs. Faith shampooed 9 yesterday and another 4 today; tomorrow we're going to begin taking out the rest of the Persian rugs for cleaning. My brother said, "You know you're Appalachian when you have rugs hanging on the fence." Some might look askance (perhaps even Dave) but the sun both dries and disinfects while letting them dry inside on the floor means they'll take days to dry. That's stupid and I hadn't bothered to consider what the neighbors might think until my brother brought it up. I mean, surely the neighbors have better things to worry/wonder/talk about.

Remember the tomatoes of last week? I canned 39.5 quarts of tomatoes and 9 pints plus 1 quart of sauce. I gave away 7 quarts to the woman who gave me the tomatoes and still have plenty for winter. I've already dipped into the spaghetti sauce and, frankly, if I get tired of spaghetti, it'll make dandy Bloody Mary mix, with or without alcohol.

Coming home I saw several deer, including this one being chased by the other. Not sure what that was all about, territory I suppose, but they were serious.

Eventually, the one being chased dropped over the hill and began wading in the creek. It was only there safety was found.

About a quarter mile away, this doe and her fawn grazed along the fence line. When she heard my car stop, she turned and watched me until they walked deeper into the grass.

There's a rhythm to my days that Dave would have called, "full of ennui" but I prefer to call "full of languor", that pleasant feeling of tiredness that comes from doing work I love. The children are no longer staying here and that's a good thing...for all of us. The time opened up by them leaving took as long as putting my hand in a pail of water and seeing the resulting space empty then fill...iow, not very long at all. There's always work.

I live a slow life; I am pleased to live a slow life and it's by choice. Dave and I lived slowly; we savored what we were able to do here on this farm. When we traveled, we traveled slowly and rented apartments or condos where locals lives. Hardly ever did we stay in a hotel...except for that memorable time when we stayed in the Hotel George in Kensington (his favorite section to stay), London. We'd been on a trip to Morocco, camped in the desert with the Bedouins and Blue Men or Tuareg people , visited a Berber village and Dave wanted civilization, with a capital C. So, he booked us at Hotel George and it was fabulous! What I remember most were the breakfasts...lush, extravagant, hot tea, scones, fruit, omelets made to order...ahhhhh... Breakfast has always been my favorite meal and I've always enjoyed a huge breakfast. When I've had a good breakfast, I can go the rest of the day, until supper, and not flag; well, not flag too much. Dave wanted to sleep in good beds with clean sheets, have a hot shower of indeterminate length, go to theatre (we saw Wicked) and, in general, have too much of a very good thing.

Einstein was a smart man but he never knew Dave.

Yes, I am a blessed woman; my life has been full of love, laughter, travel, good food and all those things that make memories worth remembering. Lately, grief has visited and it's been difficult but remembering good times and praying, a lot, has made it easier. I even dreamed about Dave; we were in an airport, somewhere, and he was trying to figure out our flights. Usually dreams are strange, disjointed and this was no exception. In the dream he went ahead, leaving me in the terminal while he "sorted this out, wait here for me". 

I'm still waiting, Dave.

Blessings ~ travel ~ interesting countries ~ K&K Hotel George ~ Kensington ~ London ~ Morocco ~ Dave, always Dave ~