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 ~

A Melodious Small Collection

Some years ago, ML, a dear friend of decades, traveled to London. While there, she bought this small bell, designed to be worn by a sheep or goat. When she returned home, she presented me with this little treasure and said, “I wasn't sure if you had an animal bell...”. No, I didn't but she started me on the way to a small, melodious collection of, mostly, animal bells.

Not for me the beautiful yet fragile, glass, tinkly bells. No, I have always desired the sturdy, time tested, time worn and, preferably, hand made of whatever venue. This now includes bells. A lot of my bells are handmade or, in this day and age, the word is “handcrafted” and all are sturdy and produce sounds ranging from a deep clanging of a cow bell worn to the tinnier sound of the bells worn by horse, sheep or goat.

When Dave and I traveled in Eastern Europe, we were both always on the lookout for animal bells. These, and the one on the right, as evidenced by its tag, were found in Romania and all designed for a horse. Frankly, I cannot imagine having such a clanging going on aside my head but humans, as mostly always, do what they do without considering the animal. Or, perhaps, the humans did what they did and considered all animals...as in notifying folks ahead there was a horse and wagon approaching. During all our travels, I only once saw a human riding a horse and that was for the benefit of tourists; it was invariably always a horse pushing a wagon. As an aside, the horse collar is designed so the horse pushes against it and the wagon has no choice but to follow...ingenious design!

This bell was purchased on our trip to 2004 Russia. It was this trip that necessitated my first passport and, come to think of it, the first bell ever in my collection. It now reminds me of wonderful memories of foreign travel. Dave and I were in Yaroslavl, Russia at a museum where a bell maker had a nice collection of his hand poured bells. Our translator, a former ABC guy (which is what I called the no-neck former KGB man) pressured Dave into buying the bell. Dave was furious but we were alone in a country where we didn't speak the language and the translator had been arranged by the man who had arranged the trip (and would arrive much later) so Dave purchased the bell. Frankly, I'm glad he did as it's a wonderful reminder of a fabulous trip where we did so many exciting things and met so many incredible people. Even so, Dave had many awful things to say about the ABC guy and none were complementary!

This bell was purchased in Ukraine, at a flea market. Ah me, I could have spent a small fortune at that flea market but came home with this bell, some textiles and carried home a hand made from wood pieces room divider to give to my sister. That dratted thing weighed a small ton and I'm not sure my back has ever recovered from carrying it around until I got to the airport and boxed it. Back to the bell...the leather collar is held in place by a hand carved wooden clasp; both leather and wood are well worn, the leather somewhat stiff with age but still a thing of beauty.

This bell is Polish, or rather, was purchased in Poland. That's about all that can be said as it's unknown where the bells were made or by whom. Especially the hand made bells because it's impossible to know the history but the well worn patina from both being hand crafted and worn by many animals, handled by many hands is still a sweet mystery. 

It embarrasses me I cannot remember where I purchased this bell, above. Perhaps my memory will surprise me one day...or not.

This bell still has its leather collar which is in, surprisingly, good shape and could be used today with no other preparation.  This one and the one below were purchased in Southport, NC at an antique shop. The shop owner said the, now deceased, bell owner traveled a good deal in Europe and she thought the bells might be European. It pleases me to know another woman found delight and mystery in such simple, hand made goods. Another woman saw the beauty in the everyday, hand made and found these bells worthy of being bought, carried home and admired.

 

This one is a cow bell, pounded out on some farmer's anvil and has a deep, melodious sound that brings to mind a placid cow, walking across an alpine pasture with nothing more serious on her mind than good grass, sweet water and being milked come evening. 

That's what comes of getting ready to move; no, the farm hasn't sold yet but like Noah ben Shea said, "Be patient. Patience is also preparation. It is the action before the act." Like I've always said, "Wait is a verb."  While waiting, I'm giving away, packing, tossing and wondering at a life well lived here on Thistle Cove Farm. Dave and I made it a good great life, one full of memories, good times, mementos and, it seems, every little thing has a history, a story and I can recall almost each one. I've begun using a small white tag to write where something was purchased or why it's special. I'm told the provenance of something, when written down or proven, makes the item more valuable. I know it makes the item more valuable in that when I read that small tag, memories, precious memories, flood over, around, through me and I'm transported to that time and place. It's part of the healing process, a good part, and I'm grateful.

Blessings ~ ML ~ a melodious small collection of bells ~ Willie Nelson ~ Precious Memories ~ Noah ben Shea ~ Dave ~ 

TGIF and Random 5 Friday

~ American Curly horses ~

Today, a gentleman from Virginia Currents e-mailed me and asked for  farm photos to use in a television news magazine segment featuring Virginia farms. He asked for four photos and I sent eight; yes, I can count, but having no understanding of what he needed, I sent him twice as many photos so he can cull fifty percent. Whenever possible, I like to make other folks' jobs' easier. 

~ chestnuts, ready for roasting ~

Another gent, from across the mountain, likes to hunt ground hogs in our valley and I like for him to hunt ground hogs on this farm.  They are pesky rodents who dig huge holes that are a safety hazard for my horses, sheep and alpacas. Me too, remembering now the huge hole I stepped into in mid-summer. Anyway, the hunter brought me a coffee can of chestnuts and I plan on X'ing them and roasting them tonight and all weekend. I've never found a nut I didn't like and chestnuts are a favorite. 

~ London travel journal, right ~

Dave and I began traveling overseas in 2008 when I was asked to teach Agri-tourism in Russia. the program was through the U. S. State Department and run by a West Virginia Bluefield State professor. That was the beginning of a entirely new set of adventures for Dave and I. In January 2010, Dave sent me to London because, "I want you to learn to travel by yourself. I'll be here, at home, for a safety net, but you'll be on your own." I planned that trip...airline, hotel, sights, etc....and, yes, it was frightening but also exhilarating! When my plane landed, my transportation to town wasn't there and never arrived. I finally took the Tube into London and my Earls Court stop where I wandered for an hour looking for my hotel. All this at midnight, in the cold, snow and worst winter London had in twenty-five years...exhilarating!  The memory of the red fox and I, crossing on opposite street corners, remains a favorite memory. 

~ July - August 2011 travel journal ~

I'm getting to my point, please forgive a tired, slow woman...in the summer of 2011, Dave sent me to Eastern Europe, amazing because, at that time, Dave was recovering from cancer treatment and, needless to say, I didn't want to leave him. He insisted and gave me the same reason he'd given when he sent me to London the year before. So, that fabulous trip was to Hungary, were I met Timi and her family and Jane and Lance, then went to Serbia, Romania, Ukraine, Czech Republic and Austria. 

I'm going to submit, for possible publication, my journals to Stampington Public. I haven't a clue they'll accept them but I'm pretty sure the answer is no if I don't ask. This is a huge step for me; when I was in elementary school, my "art" teacher (using the term most loosely!) told me, "You have absolutely no talent whatsoever; I have no idea why you even try." 

My answer after all these decades is, "Life is risky and the answer is always "no" when the question isn't asked."

Through no work of their own, the dogs are ready for cold weather. Their sweaters were washed and line dried this week and bought a smile to my face. 

We had a jail break today; the alpacas found a gate I'd left open and made their way into the yard. They were so funny, looking like they were tiptoeing around the yard. The dogs don't even bark anymore when the animals go where they aren't really supposed to go. Eventually, I got them all back in the same pasture and all is well on the farmstead.

This post is linked up with Nancy's Random 5 Friday at A Rural Journal. Please visit her and see the other participants.

Blessings ~ clean sweaters ~ animals in their correct places ~ chestnuts ~ American Curly horses ~ travel journals ~  alpacas ~

Sabbath Keeping in Romania

~ scythe sharpening ~

"Then saith he unto his disciples, 

The harvest truly is plenteous,
but the labourers are few; 

Pray ye therefore the Lord of the harvest,
that he will send forth labourers into his harvest."

~ Matthew 9:37-38 ~

~ starting the swing ~

"But when the fruit is brought forth, 

immediately he putteth in the sickle, 

because the harvest is come."

~ Mark 4:29 ~

~ middle of swing ~

"Now he who supplies seed to the sower and bread for food 

will also supply and increase your store of seed and 

will enlarge the harvest of your righteousness."
~ 2 Corinthians 9:10 ~

 ~ swing completed ~

"Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time
we will reap a harvest if we do not give up."
~ Galatians 6:9 ~

Blessings ~ harvest ~ sharpened blade ~ laborers ~ strength to do the work He has set before us ~

Romania - Sapanta, Merry Cemetery

~ nesting storkes ~

Along the road, we had lots of stork sightings - nesting, eating in fields, flying through the air. Storks are amazing birds; they are mute, and cannot call, but rather clatter their bills to each other in order to communicate. Two frequently used terms to identify groups of storks are a muster of storks or a phalanx of storks. They tend to glide and not fly, thus relying on air currents and I was told they migrate to winter in Africa. Birdlife says storks migrate to both western Africa and Spain and if you'd like to see a huge phalanx of migrating storks, click here for an amazing video.

~ teenage drivers ~

The next time your teenager complains to you about not having a car, show him or her this photo. These boys have transportation but when they get home at night, they have to put away the wagon, un-harness the horses, groom the horses, feed the horses...and all before the boys sit down to supper. They probably have to unload the wagon as well, depending upon their day.

~ drinking may be dangerous to your health ~

We passed through a village where torrential rains had damaged businesses, homes and roads. These gents were drinking and smoking at their local bar, seemingly, not too impressed by the fact the foundation was gone...wiped away from rains and a flooding creek. 

~ my new best friend ~

One afternoon, while others wandered around a church and graveyard, I wandered around the village. Please don't misunderstand, I honor the past but I don't ancestor worship. Trust me, if folks could have it better in their lives, they would have it better...lots better. I've carried water, shoveled snow from inside the house to outside the house, cooked on a wood stove and over an open fire, thrown snow off the bed covers when I awoke in the morning. When life is hard, it ages a person and when life is this hard, there's, generally, little enough money to go 'round.  This gentleman was coming home from work, it was late afternoon, and he spoke. Usually what I do when I don't understand the language is smile, nod my head and, sometimes, give a little curtsy. This is what I did to this man, then gestured to my camera and "asked" if I could take his photo. He smile and nodded "yes"; this is one of the shots I took. He thanked me, I thanked him and gave a little curtsy then, he kissed me on the check; another sweet and precious memory!

By the way, his hat is their version of our baseball caps -smile-.

~ harvest season ~

All over the northern hemisphere, it's hay making time; no different in Romania.

~ two shepherds ~

Sorry for the poor photo but I wanted a photo of me and the deceased shepherd's grave marker. Merry Cemetery is an UNESCO site and a great testament to working with what you've got. Sometime during the mid-1930's, local folk artist Stan Ioan Patras began carving and painting wooden crosses to commemorate the lives of villagers. Shepherds, woodworkers, farmers, home makers, spinners, weavers, foresters...no matter what the deceased did in life, their death was captured in their cross. Mr. Patras passed away in 1977 and his apprentice, Dumitru Pop Tincu, carries on his work and people travel from all over the world to visit Sapanta, Merry Cemetery, the grave markers and the village crafters and artisans.

~ Mr. Tincu ~

~ drop spindle spinner ~

This woman sold me two balls of hand spun yarn; I'm not sure what I'll make with it but love knowing the spinner and the story. No, we didn't speak each others language but we got along just fine. She had me try my hand at her drop spindle and laughed when I proved to be not very handy. I mimicked spinning on a wheel and she said, "Ahhhh, a machina." Yikes! I need to go back to basic skills, it appears.

~ my spinning friend ~

Mercy, we've put almost 4,000 kms, or 2,000 miles, on the vehicles and our bodies in two weeks. I am exhausted but the trip is almost over and soon, time to go home. Next stop, Ukraine!

Blessings ~ friends, old and new ~ Merry Cemetery ~ spinners ~ safe drivers, thanks Inez and Jozef ~ great weather, most of the time ~ storks ~