Simple Pleasures

 Thanks for bearing with me as I redesign my blog. I was kinda tired of the coffee cup that sprouted birds! :) This new one has some flaws, but I kinda like it...for now!

*****************

This morning as I was putting a clean trash bag into the kitchen waste basket, I thought to myself how good it felt to have a new, empty, and fresh smelling trash can. It was a simple pleasure, but welcome none the less- and it made me reflect on the simple joys in my life...

Some things that touch our lives are not always big things. Sometimes they are subtle, silent...small...

I love the simple joy of clean towels- the terry cloth touched with a hint of lavender- the way they stack neatly into a tower and await their duty after a shower. I love them hot from the dryer, fluffed with fabric softener and thick with quiet pureness.

I love the simple joy of birds. Of lemon-colored finches as they poke at a tower of thistle. Of cardinals as red as flame bobbing for sunflower seeds lost in a snow drift- and blue birds so blue that it almost hurts your eyes to see their pointed wings against a sea of grass.

I love the simple joy of my favorite chair. Worn slightly on the right side- the upholstery blotted with faint rings of spilled coffee... and the cushions hiding a smidgen of cookie crumbs. I love the way I can curl my feet up and be perfectly at peace... read a thick novel...take a tiny nap... or just sit and watch the world outside my window turn with the seasons.

I love the simple pleasure of the night sky. Especially when it glows with the dots of a million stars... and fireflies  pulsate with beating lights across the dewy fields...when the moon is so big and round and yellow that you can almost touch it...when it envelopes me with the songs of crickets and katydids and the smell of damp, sweet, perfumed darkness.

I love the simple pleasures of  smooth rocks. Of finding a round stone in the creek that's been polished by years of rain water and sand...Of odd shaped pebbles that fit comfortably in my hand...that beg to be rubbed with a tender thumb...that look like a collection of sleek, shiny soldiers when lined up on the window sill.

I love the simple pleasure of new socks.  Of the way they seem to wrap around my feet like a layer of cotton skin...how they gather my toes together in a sling of warmth... and slide across the laminate floor like woolen ice skates.

I love the simple pleasure of a sharp pencil. The way the lead comes to a fine point...its graphite tip leaving perfect lines of script on white paper...of its rubber eraser, pink with the power of eradication. Of how a group of them in a tin can, blossom like a graceful sculpture of yellow spikes.

I love the simple pleasure of a bologna sandwich. The white bread- soft as cotton and almost damp to the touch - and even its biscuit-colored crust, tender enough to eat alone. The thick slice of fragrant bologna- a hint of garlic- the tang of mustard- the way it is cut into a perfect set of triangles and laid upon a stiff, white paper plate.

My life is a quilt of simple pleasures that warms my heart.
Take the time today to find yours.

******************
If I don't post for a few days, it may mean that the ice storm has wreaked havoc on all types of communication here in Southern Illinois. Hopefully it won't be as bad as predicted, and I'll be back after it all melts and things are working again!
Be safe.
Stay warm.

And indulge in simple pleasures...

Room 46

A very dear blogging friend of mine, Dee, commented on my post the other day when I featured A Room Of One's Own Day. She said  "Well...what are you waiting for? Make one!"
And so...I did!
Oh, it's not nearly as beautiful and ornate and comfortable as those I featured in my post, but it gives me such a good feeling. Now I can find all some a bit of my craft and art stuff without dragging it out of the closet.

This is my son's old room and I'm 100% positive that he's not coming back home to live. It only had a blow up mattress in it because we took the bed to the cabin. So, I deflated the darn thing and put in some tables (that belong to my sister Tina) and sorted out my junk in a very un-methodical way. But, I know where everything some stuff is (sorta) and that's what matters.

 

There's a picture of Elvis on the left, but it will someday be replaced by a cork board. (Note: Elvis does not belong to my son).(Or me.)

 This rolling cart was previously in the back of a crowded closet:

I added a cool light and some of my art.

It's not the ideal setup, but I actually started a project with the canvas I got for Christmas.

I stuck a metal tag on the door. Number 46.

And that's where you'll find me now...whenever I need a room of my own.

Thank You, Mr. Crapper!

Today is Thomas Crapper Day.
There's a lot of controversy concerning whether this man invented the toilet. Some sources say he promoted sanitary plumbing and had several patents on toilet designs, but that he was not the original inventor.
Let me just say this: Whoever created this wonderful, modern convenience, I thank you.
I thank you with all my heart because I've been without the luxury of a toilet on several occasions and it's never a fun or pretty situation.

I grew up with modern plumbing. I'm not so old that I had to use a "squat pot" or a bed pan when I was a child.

But, I did have a personal relationship with the outhouse at the church.

Down the hill and erupting from an ocean of weeds and briers, the old outhouse was not only our "ladies room", but it was also an escape from too much fire and brimstone and sweaty hand shakes. It was dark and damp and often wrapped with wisps of spider webs and tiny turds of unknown origin.
My sister Linda and I almost always used the "buddy system"- accompanying each other to the church toilet so that one could watch guard while the other did her business. Insects and rodents weren't the only culprits. There were lots of bad boys around who wouldn't fear the devil if they decided to peep in the little vent window.
I guess there just wasn't enough money in the church offering at the end of the day, because they couldn't afford toilet paper. Instead, there was a rusty coat hanger hung on a ten-penny nail- and flopped over it was a yellowed mail order catalog.
There were times that Linda and I read it while waiting.

(But we heard it was a modern step up from the previous dried corn cobs.)
To think back on this today- it literally gives me the creeps! We actually wiped with an ink infused catalog and thought it was the most natural thing in the world! All I can say is, God must have really led us to his place of worship, because if I had to use that outhouse at my church today, I'm afraid I might go the way of those bad boys.

The lack of a modern toilet also came into play during our "camping phase". A serious hobby gone crazy that my family went through a few years ago. What obsessed us to sleep on the ground in the woods and cook on a stick and crap in a nest of poison ivy, I'll never know!
At our favorite campsite, another crazy camper had attempted to make a more convenient toilet. Attached to the nearby trees was an old plastic shower curtain. Hidden behind it in semi-privacy was a nearly rotten wooden box with a hole in it.

It was certainly better than a squat or an acrobatic performance to keep the process as sanitary as possible.
I eventually talked my husband into building a new box from treated lumber and he actually topped the hole with a real toilet seat.
Ahhhh...much nicer. Until it began to be used by other campers who were not quite as appreciative or hygienically motivated.
Yet, this experience made us all the more grateful for our toilet at home.

Over ten years ago when we first bought our cabin in Missouri, the old outhouse was the only facility. Situated down the hill at the edge of the woods- and under a huge cottonwood tree- our toilet was well-built, fairly clean, and equipped with not only a real seat and toilet paper, but with a tiny mirror and reading material.
After awhile, I didn't mind it. If we hadn't visited for awhile, we took a handy stick and knocked down the spider webs and kept the toilet tissue in a coffee can, safe from the critters that happen to adore toilet paper nests.

The only time I wouldn't go down there by myself was at night, so my husband would hold my hand- and the flashlight. He become the loyal watch guard who kept lookout for possums and coons and slithery snakes that might take an interest in our activities.
Later we built an indoor bathroom and the outhouse was eventually pushed further down the hill and burned.
Sometimes I miss those cool summer nights with the stars shining and my husband standing guard. Of hearing the night open up with sweet sounds ...and the smell of honeysuckle... and the feeling that time had slowed somehow.
And those memories are moments we'll never get back...

A modern toilet seems like a common and simple thing. But we should give thanks to whomever blessed our lives with its wonder and convenience.
Here's to Thomas Crapper!

Goodwill Wednesday: The Bowl, The Bedding And An Ugly Vessel

Last week I finally got a chance to venture out of my weather-induced cave and the first place I headed (besides the grocery store) was my local Goodwill. Maybe I'm a little crazy- who knows?- but even if I don't find anything there, I always walk away feeling good after just searching for that possible treasure.
If you haven't visited your Goodwill store or second hand junk shop or interesting consignment shops in your area, you are missing out on not only a fun experience, but a vast array of wonders for your home.
I get more excited about finding a item at those places than I am if I went out and bought it brand new. Maybe it's just the way I was brought up. But to me, I consider these bargains as pre-loved, and who could say "no" to that? Plus the fact that it takes very little money to enjoy a day of "junking".
(I would suggest always carrying hand cleaner or keeping germicide wipes handy after a trip to Goodwill. I mean- you really never know where it came from.)

Last week I saw this bowl on the shelf at Goodwill:

At first I thought it may have had feet and one was broken, because it sat on the shelf on an angle. But then I realized that's how it was made:

It is heavy white ceramic and the price was $2.75. I knew exactly what I was going to use it for!

This fun bowl held a whole bag of oranges!

I usually stay away from the wire bins that they have in the corner which hold sheets and pillow cases and such. I'm sure there may be a good buy somewhere in the pile, but I'm not crazy about pulling and sorting through a big bundle of material just to find a single sham.
But last week, the colors and print of an object near the top of the bin caught my eye.

It was just a messy ball of material.
But I pulled it out and discovered it was a duvet cover. King size!

By Pottery Barn/Bed and Bath. (Not that brand names matter much to me, but I knew it was a steal for $3). It needs washed and ironed- and then it will look great!

And then I also got this:

 I passed it up once. Put it in my cart. Thought about setting it back on the shelf. But there was something about it that spoke to me...

It was obviously handmade.

Here is a picture that shows how large it is. I might put it in my flower bed and plant some ivy in it or something. Might even paint it a different color.Not sure yet....But for $2.50, it will be fun to experiment with!

Well, I've got to clean house today to make room for more Goodwill Wednesday items!
What treasures have YOU found?

A Room Of One's Own

While reviewing my list of January holidays, I noticed that tomorrow is A Room Of One's Own Day.
This struck a chord with me, because- here I am- middle aged -and I've never had a room of my own. Growing up, I shared a twin bed with my sister Barb. Then when she moved out,  my older sister Linda and I got the bed. And after Linda left, I was stuck with my little sister Tina. Then I got married and had to share with my husband!

There is something sweet and comforting about a room of one's own. About a private place for escape and meditation. For pursuing hobbies, napping- or just plopping back in a soft chair and reading a book.
A room of one's own should be a reflection of that person- decorated with favorite colors and treasured objects- ( not cluttered with laundry or golf clubs or last years tax returns.) It should be simple, but ornate with layers of keepsakes and memories. And perhaps a cork board full of dreams and wishes.

Wouldn't it be fun to design your own room now that you're all grown up? Gone are the days of tie dye curtains, concert posters, neon paints and macrame wall hangings. I'm all for sophisticated, sleek, clean and feminine- all rolled into one.
If I had a room of my own,  (and money were no object!) it would look something like these....

So, celebrate A Room of One's Own by dreaming of your perfect escape!
You never know when your dreams might come true....