Welcome!

In case this is your first time here, there are a few things you should know. I am a Bible-believing, homeschooling mother…but probably not the kind you’re thinking. Yes, I am a traditionalist, idealist, and self-sufficiency advocate…but I am also a working woman, and I hate workbooks and drills.

Also (another thing you should know), my family and I shared the house I grew up in with many demons and ghosts, and this has given me, what some would say, an unnatural talent for discovering and dealing with such things. I thank the LORD for such an opportunity. There are far too many Christians who have no clue about such things, and refuse to touch them.

 

So…here are the topics I plan on tackling in the somewhat near future:

1) Roland and Marla – My first time facing down a demon – Parts 8 and beyond.

2) The Eye Tree – My first serious paranormal experience, and the road it led me on.

3) How to respond when your house talks back – the beginning of a strange conversation. 

4) Making food feel welcome – packaging techniques and ideas.

5) Why we bought the Old Hotel – what were we thinking? – and what do we intend to do with it now?

6)  Tyger and the Elephants – an Adventure in paranormal, through the eyes of a two-year-old

7) Why weedy gardens can be good – how to take advantage of what Nature throws in your direction

 

My aim, as always, is to show you what my family and I are doing to make our home more whole, more useful, and more capable of holding and being a part of long-held desires and dreams.

 

And…

“May those that love us, love us,

And those that don’t love us, may God turn their hearts.

And if He doesn’t turn their hearts, may he turn their ankles,

So we’ll know them by their limping.”

- An anonymous Irish blessing

 

Now would that be the right foot or the left, do you suppose?

Or both?

What about your own?

Decorating for Christmas, Episode One

The kids and I helped Mom decorate her house for Christmas yesterday. It was a fun, all-day time of remembering old memories and making new ones. The kids got to learn about their great-great-grandma Rena, who originally had some of the glass ornaments that went on the artificial tree.

We joked about how many more years this tree may last, as it loses a few plaastic pine needles every year, and is beginning to look worn. Still, it looks beautiful wrapped in lights and tinsel, with the antique ornaments shining and saying, “Look…remember. Don’t you remember when…?” We all have different things we remember as we look at them. For my mom, it is trips from Nebraska back to South Sioux City, where her Grandma Rena lived. For me, it is Great Aunt Beverly, who owned them after Rena passed on, and they bring thrills of laughter and anticipation, as I recall how Christmases used to be when I was a child, and we all met at my grandmother’s farm house in Nebraska. For the children, so far, it is how careful they must be around the tree. But that will change with time.

The kids got to help decide where to hang pictures and wreaths, where to place candles, and we also helped them plan for cookies. Of course, the cookies won’t get baked and frosted until later in the season, but it is inspiring to think just what we might do together. The cookies bring up more memories, as Grandma always made delicious roll-out gingerbread shapes, and we usually made delicate, colorfully frosted sugar cookies, which we spent hours cutting, baking and decorating. It was so much fun to be creative and to try to be more inventive than last year, that it never seemed like a waste to watch a beautiful sugar cookie blue jay’s head get snapped off in some hungry mouth, or watch a trayful disappear in minutes between my brother and cousin Josh.

I’m always trying to get back some of that delight in spending time on such temporal things. That’s a personal goal for this season - slow down, remember the meaning in small things; remember that all we have is time, and I may as well make beloved memories with it. 

 After decorating the house, we stayed the night and spent today working on the farm house.

We got the cellar shelves wiped down and cleansed, and began placing my home canned goods on them. We swept out about half the largest room in the basement, and fixed a place to stack boxes of magazines until I can go through them and order them chronologically, picking out those that have already been sold or spoken for. (There are 1950’s National Geographic issues which were never opened, and are still in their paper mailing wrappers.) We worked until we ran out of daylight, and also out of room to stack trash in the trailer and in the entry.

We intend to go back out in a few days, and continue. We have some supplies promised us by friends and family, and should be able to start painting walls and patching ceilings any time.

Meanwhile, I’m dreaming about decorating the place for Christmas. At this point, it’s looking like I may have to wait for next year, as we may not get moved in for another month and a half…but I can still dream.

Thanksgiving with the Ingalls – a book excerpt

The door of the dugout was wide open while they ate Thanksgiving dinner. Laura could see across the bare willow-tops, far over the prairie to the place where the sun would go down. There was not one speck of snow. The prairie was like soft yellow fur. the line where it met the sky was not sharp now; it was smudged and blurry.

…

Thanksgiving dinner was good. Pa had shot a wild goose for it. Ma had to stew the goose because there was no fireplace, and no oven in the little stove. But she made dumplings in the gravy. There were corn dodgers and mashed potatoes. There were butter, and milk, and stewed dried plums. And three grains of parched corn lay beside each tin plate.

At the first Thanksgiving dinner the poor Pilgrims had had nothing to eat but three parched grains of corn. Then the Indian came and brought them turkeys, so the Pilgrims were thankful.

Now, after they had eaten their good, big Thanksgiving dinner, Laura and Mary could eat their grains of corn and remember the Pilgrims. Parched corn was good. It crackled and crunched, and its taste was sweet and brown.

- from On the Banks of Plum Creek, by Laura Ingalls Wilder

 

The State of the Nation

 

And it still can be all this.

 

Pray.

Veteran’s Day

My maternal grandpa was an American ”Commando” during WWII (the Green Berets weren’t in existence yet, so he got British-style special forces training.). In honor of him, here is a story I wrote, based on truth.

He was a good and a brave man, and deserves to be honored.

Many of the incidents in the story are true, and the others, could be.

How to Talk to Your House

I thought, after hinting at the conversations I’ve had with my home(s), I’d give some tips on how you, too, can command your home to get good results, and improve areas of clutter, misuses, constant dirtiness, or what have you.

First off, realize that your house is listening. It’s always listening. It knows what you and the other members of your family say about it, and it takes notes. Put simply, this means it reacts and responds to what you say. So if you say things like, “This place is always a disaster!” that’s what you’re likely to get. If you say, “Things always break around here” – boom! you can expect to see “everything” break. When Will or I speak like this, we soon have a light shade shatter, plumbing leak, or batteries go out in every flashlight.

You get what you say, most often.

Secondly, understand that you may not be able to fix everything with a command or comment, but that most things can be influenced. What this means is that, while you cannot normally expect the leaky doorframe to right itself just because you tell it to, you can expect things like recurring messes to lessen or cease. You can expect people (and even appliances) to take different attitudes. You can expect your house to stay looking nicer, longer, and to rethink old, possibly negative mindsets.

Thirdly, realize that your house has at least one mindset, right now, and you (and it) will continue to deal with this as long as you live together. Mindsets can be tricky things…many of us don’t even know we hold certain beliefs until something knocks us upside the head about them, and the same can be true of houses. For instance, my house was shocked to think that I wanted it to stay clean – that it was not desirable, or even permissable, for cat hair, sand, and wood chips to build up hourly on every floor, and for paper and other clutter to hide every higher surface.

As I stated in my previous post dealing with house conversations, you may be able to correct only some mindsets, or effect certain mindsets only so far. In fact, I think this is probably true of every house, as far as it’s original mindset is concerned. A house which is well built and intended to be cared for responsibly will probably not bow willingly to neglect, ignorance, and stupidity. Such a house will probably take much longer to wear down than one which was poorly built in the first place.

However, a house which has picked up a faulty mindset through misuse or foolishness can usually be corrected.

I’ll explain how to do this, but first, I want you to decide something for yourself and your house: What do you want of it? What do you need it to do for your family’s well being and prosperity? Which issues or areas are the most problematic? Why?

Got it figured out? Okay. Speak.

Yes, that’s what I mean, tell your house (and the items in it) how it needs to change. Tell it what you expect of it, and be specific. Take into consideration:

• Attitudes (both yours and the house’s)
• Clutter hotspots (whether or not they’re yours)
• Filthy spots or sections (regardless how they came there)
• Misused rooms or areas
• Anything else you know is a problem

 Speak something like this:

“Chest freezer, you are no longer a place for clutter. You are to stay clean, shiny, and easy to use, all the time. I command your lid to stay clear of items, unless I tell you to hold something. You are intended for storing fresh foods, and this is needful and helpful to my family. Your job is important, and it is important that you stay convenient to open and use.”

I’m going to pick apart this command and explain why it is necessary to use that much detail. Why can’t you just say, “Freezer, stay clean”?

There are several reasons. Number one, you need to be clear on which item or space you’re talking to. In our case, we have three freezers of various sizes. Though you’re addressing one, they can all “hear” you, and it is best to address one at a time. They may not all have the same problems, and may not be able to be handled at one shot.

Two, if appearances are important, define what you expect. The house or item may not realize that it’s usually smeared with finger prints or grease, and may experience a revelation being told that it’s not clean. Define how clean you want it to be, and whether this is a one-shot deal or an ongoing expectation. Otherwise, you may find yourself repeating commands until you’re blue in the face, without lasting results.

Also, if clutter is a problem, define whether it is ever okay for an area to be cluttered, and if so, what sorts of items are allowable. In the case of the chest freezer I have in mind, it is near the front door, and tends to collect everything from groceries to Will’s construction bids.

Third, intentions can be everything. Even if it seems obvious to you, go ahead and state what the item or area is for. I went so far as to tell my freezer that it could seem styish, because I needed it to quit “slouching” in the corner of my living room (it’s the only place it fits). Immediatly, it perked up and looked visibly brighter, giving off a cheerful air I’d never seen before.

So tell the trouble item or spot what you expect of it. I detailed what sorts of foods we prefer to keep in this freezer, and made sure it understood it is helping my famiy by preserving these foods. It hadn’t known before that it was being useful, and its attitude changed upon my telling it how much it means to the well-being of my family.

So what spot needs your attention first? Ready, set, go.

What Was Your House Made For?

I never thought much about this question until we bought the farm house. Once it was ours, and we began seriously cleaning out trash and sorting the rest of the belongings left there, I began to reflect on the “feel” of that house versus the one we are still living in.

The one we are living in was made cheaply, and was intended to be termporary housing for migrant or otherwise temporary workers. There are many similar houses in this community, and some of them were made to be used by railroad workers, others, by sugar beet field and beet factory workers. Now, most of them are “family” rentals, owned by a handful of people (most of which happen to be decent landlords or -ladies.)

This house knows why it was made. It knows it was designed cheaply, and what sort of people were intended to live in it. It cannot seem to rise above the first intentions declared for it, no matter how much it wants to please us.

The farm house was designed to be a high middle-class family home, complete with the best conveniences and luxuries of the day. It was built well, with generations, not a handful of years, in mind for it’s continued use. It knows it was never completed, though, and feels the lack of proper plumbing, and finishing details like painting. It knows certain spaces in it never had proper advantage taken of them – like the top story, which has no flooring. It feels that through the last 20 years, it has been rifled through, stolen from, broken in places, and neglected. But it has never forgotten its beginnings. It looks forward to being a family home, complete with comforts and laughter. It glows with the pride of being suitable for a family, and two or more family businesses. It overflows with goodwill and sweet intentions, not with melancholy and a crowded, ”I-can’t,” attitude, like our rental in town. Sure, the rental contains memories of laughter, large family meals and a measure of bounty…but it doesn’t know how to  be more than it was designed to be, and continues to show neglect where there has been none in recent years.

The farm house, thank God, shows a power to uplift, inspire, and strengthen the ties of comraderie that already exist, and holds open its walls to new ones. I’ll feel alright having friends and family over to stay, and this will be a nice change.

I’ll feel I can count on the house to help me train up my children in right attitudes and a conquering mindset, as far as problems are concerned. I’ll feel I can have fun with my family, and let down my guard a bit, knowing Billy’s bedroom isn’t going to crash into the basement, and that Tyra can have her own space, instead of a pallet on the floor which we roll up every morning. I look at the farm house and I see that the plaster and foundation and timbers (better timbers than one can normally buy today, I might add) have already stood over eighty years, and know that is just the beginning. I already feel as if we are going forward in our business and family goals, just picturing what is possible – and probable – in the farm house, as it just seems to want to help us on our way, instead of continuously standing in the road, saying, “I wasn’t made for that!”

So I challenge you: Next time you find yourself unsure why your family’s life is going the way it is, ask yourself, “What was our house intended for?” The answer may surprise you, and may give you a clear direction to head, or at least, a new way to think of your challenge.

I am confident that many problems in the attitude of a house can be overcome. Though I have failed to mention many of them on this blog, as I intended to do at first, I’ve had many conversations with my current home, in which it immediately overcame some problems, and was able to think clearly about others. Sometimes, these problems were able to be fixed, and sometimes, just giving the house a new command (“No clutter allowed in such-and-such a space!” “Keep the dirt out of the corners as much as possible.”) was enough to start problems on a new track. Other times, try as the house would, it just couldn’t win through the challenge – especially where structural issues or poor layout and planning were at fault.

Partly for these reasons, we’ve chosen to move, and give ourselves a new chance to do better.

Homestead: What Sort of Spirit is in the Under-the-Stairs Closet?

I don’t know if you can feel it, but there is a presence in this photo which reflects what was in the closet when it was taken. What is it? I often wondered, as I worked in the house near the closet. 

Now I know, and it’s quite simple: I had a Listening Spirit, hunkered down hearing everything that went on all over the house. Why? I don’t know. Obviously it was here before I was. And frankly, I don’t much care why it was there – I’ve kicked it out, and it won’t be causing problems from here on.

I find the placement of the spirit interesting, however, as it was as much in the center of the house as it could be, while still staying out of the way and semi-hidden. I have no idea what the old lady used this closet for…the only thing I’ve pulled out of the closet so far was an extremely worn out broom, though there are other things way back, it looks like. Tar paper, perhaps? A brick or two? Trash?

At least it’s not truly obnoxious spirits. If there are other spirits in there, they are keeping quiet and seem dozy. I’ll see about them later.

Related Posts -

Introduction to Property

Interior of House

Katherine’s Closet

The Lumber Spirit

Plants on the Property

Outbuildings on the Property

The Duck Pond

Treasure Hunting

Tyger and the “Don’t Touch” Spirit

Billy Goes Looking for a Spirit

A Restored Driveway; the Well

Roof Repair Needed

The Attic (my plans for it)

Buckey Nut Tree

New Bedroom Ideas

Autumn Surrounds Us; Well Problems

The Black Fur Coat

Actual Roof Repair (future)

The Under-Stairs Closet Mystery (this post)

Homestead: The Demon-Cat in the Pantry

The spirit in the old lady’s closet wound up in the pantry. It is just across the wall from the closet, and I felt truly simple when I went in there to see what I could see (with my spiritual eyes), and saw the same fellow, lounging around making faces.

There he stood in the back corner, staring disgustedly into my face. I booted him – a straight forward endeavor once I had him out in the open and bumped off his “home territory” of the closet. Since he couldn’t rule the closet anymore, hiding among the clothes and spreading gloom, his will to stay had diminished, and he went with hardly a protest, off the property and away, where I commanded him to go.

Once he was gone, I was able to poke about and see several other spirits. I got busy and booted them, too. Some needed some prodding, some needed to be asked their business, and others needed fierce commands and a couple angelic escorts. These went cussing and fighting all the way, searching for loopholes in my commands to them, so they might resettle elsewhere on the property. I left them no loopholes. Most of the spirits I commanded to go directly to Christ for instructions or judgment, and (of course) never to come back onto this or any other property I do or will own. Only one required different treatment, and he seemed to be connected to  a curse of some kind. (I didn’t take time to explore exactly what, seeing as he was removable without doing so.) I commanded him to seek the one who originally sent him here, and away he went. I cannot explain why I treated the various ones as I did; my actions were intuitive, and based on moment-by-moment prayer. 

The types of spirits I expelled were:

• Gloom and depression distributors
• Brownie-like shelf sitters, whose delight it is to nudge jars off the shelves and otherwise spill or destroy goods and foodstuffs
• Shadow-like haters, shrouding corners and surfaces (including the window) with bad feelings and darkness
• A cat

I want to talk about the cat.

He was a big Tom, a medium-haired smokey grey with glowing green and red eyes. He sat on the lowest shelf, twitching the end of his tail around his flank, glaring.

“Oh, hello,” I said. “You’ll go too, you know.”

He opened his mouth in a mighty hiss, then spat, “Maybe.”

“Oh, you will,” I assured – and commanded him in Jesus Christ’s Name.

With his eyes growing redder by the second, he leapt toward the window, yowling, but pausing long enough to say, “I’m not the only one, you know!” With a final hiss, he was through the window and away.

“Hmmm,” I said to myself, “that was interesting.”

I thought about the different spirit cats I had seen or known about. There was George, a pet orange tabby who had apparently met an untimely and violent death at the hands of a cat-hating neighbor. After physically departing, he had stuck around our home for a few more months, meowing at the windows he used to come in by, and sometimes coming inside the house to leap up on my bed at night. I felt his pressure and sometimes heard him purr.

Then he was gone. My husband and I both miss him.

I had read numerous stories of spirit cats, pet or otherwise, who made the lives of those around them better. But I had never before seen one like this red-eyed grey.

He was most assuredly a demon.

I did some spiritual digging, and discovered there were a minimum of a dozen such cats on the place – in the house, in the outbuildings, in the yard and trees, and yes – even in the well.

I found this one most interesting, as most cats and water mix like water and oil. But here this fellow was, about the size of a lynx, down in the well with all claws dug into the workings, creating drag on the pump. We haven’t attempted to pull the well or run it since I discovered this critter, but I am hoping the well will at least give a better effort now.

I have expelled any such cats as I come across them, and spoke an all-encompassing command prayer, ordering them to leave the property and never return. Sometimes such “big” prayers work, and sometimes I still find remnants of trouble which must be dealt with individually, so we’ll see. I’m looking forward to having a barn kitty or three, but I put my foot down at red-eyed, hissing monsters in my pantry.

Homestead: Removing Dresses Calms a Spirit

 On the day Will and I came and finished patching the roof leaks, it happened to rain a few minutes during the repair. We took the opportunity to walk through the house and inspect the major leak spots. We discovered that we had not yet stopped all the leaks, though the majority of them were slowed down.  Maybe the tar had not set enough yet, and the leaks would be stopped shortly after the sun came out.

Still, we hunted for vessels to catch the rain, and avoid as much damage to the walls and floors as possible.  

I removed the dresses from the worst part of the too-alive closet, and placed cooking pots under the leaks. It was a very uncomfortable job, as I could feel the dark presence sidling along the back of the closet the whole time, and there is little that is more distasteful to me than the rotten-colored streaks in water-damaged plaster. The streaks are too much like spiritual gloom. 

I placed the poor, stiff dresses on the bed frame at the other side of the room, and turned to inspect the closet and leaks.

The closet had changed. Yes, more natural light was able to get in, but this was not the difference. It was a different sort of brightness. Much of the gloom had gone.

In its place was the beginnings of peace, and restoration.

Was the presence then attached to the clothes? I don’t know. There didn’t seem anything particularly sinister about them as I handled them, or as they lay on the bed.

Yet, the closet was spiritually cleaner.

Any ideas?

Homestead: Actual Roof Repair (temporary)

Stage One -

About tow weks ago, Will and I got together some coil stock (rolled sheet metal), wide screws, and tar, and set out to fix the leaks in the roof.

When we arrived at the homestead and climbed to the roof, we discovered that the holes had multiplied. We had had a great deal of rain and wind over the last week, and there was quite a lot of water in the house, soaking the hardwood floors nearest the chimney, and running into the basement.

It was evening, and just above freezing. We didn’t have much time until dark. We laid out the sheet metal to the north side of the chimney, after brushing a line of very thick, cold tar along the underneath edges.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 We then sealed over the top edges, and filled in the holes as best we could with the tar that remained.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Apparently, the roof has been a problem for some years, judging by this permanent wooden ladder leaning against the south side of the house.

We aimed to get together more coil stock, more tar, and hopefully, some warm, dry weather in which to let the tar set, and come fix the rest the next day or two.

 

Stage Two – (coming soon)

Homestead: A Goat Shed

 I discovered, the day of the great snow, that there is a very nice building on the homestead, which may serve as a weather-tight, cozy barn for my goats and horses.

It is only an old granary, connected to the garage, but it is so surrounded by evergreen trees that the weather has had no chance to destroy it.

In fact, Will and I were out at the homestead several times before we even realized it was there. For some reason, I assumed it was part of the garage. I did not stop to think about how much longer the structure was than the garage.

Oh happy day! God is good, and He thinks about the goats, too.

What Our (Hopefully) New House Looks Like From Outside…According to the Original Wardway Kit Blue Prints

A few things were changed from these plans. For instance, the floor plan was flipped, and the mudroom was added after the main structure was built (the plans below do not include a mudroom).

There was never any intentions (seemingly) of putting in bedrooms and a sewing room upstairs, though this seems this would have been logical for such a family as Katherine’s.

 All in all, though, for my family’s purposes, I like the way “our” house was modified.

Columbus Day

Behind him lay the gray Azores,

Behind the Gates of Hercules;

Before him not the ghost of shores;

Before him only shoreless seas.

The good mate said: “Now must we pray,

For lo! the very stars are gone.

Brave Adm’r'l, speak! What shall I say?”

“Why, say: ‘Sail on! sail! and on!’”

 

“My men grow mutinous day by day;

My men grow ghastly, wan and weak.”

The stout mate thought of home; a spray

Of salt wave washed his swarthy cheek.

“What shall I say, brave Adm’r'l, say,

If we sight naught but seas at dawn?”

“Why, you shall say at break of day:

‘Sail on! sail on! sail on! and on!’”

 

They sailed and sailed, as winds might blow,

Until at last the blanched mate said:

“Why, now not even God would know

Should I and all my men fall dead.

These very winds forget their way,

For God from these dread seas is gone.

Now speak, brave Adm’r'l, speak and say – “

He said: “Sail on! sail on! and on!”

 

They sailed. They sailed. Theyn spake the mate:

“This mad sea shows his teeth tonight.

He curls his lip, he lies in wait,

He lifts his teeth as if to bite!

Brave Adm’r'l, say but one good word:

What shall we do when hope is gone?”

The words leapt like a leaping sword:

“Sail on! sail on! sail on! and on!”

 

Then pale and worn, he paced his deck,

And peered through darkness. Ah, that night

Of all dark nights! And then a speck -

A light! A light! At last a light!

It grew, a starlit flag unfurled!

It grew to be Time’s burst of dawn.

He gained a world; he gave that world

Its grandest lesson: “On! sail on!”

 

- by Joaquin Miller, from The Family Book of Best Loved Poems, ed. by David L. George

Homestead: My Plans for the Mud Room (it Won’t Stay a Mud Room)

 This is the mudroom as it has no doubt stood for many years (minus K-10 the German Shepherd). It is a nice mudroom.

Only problem is, the attached kitchen is rather small. It has a nice propane stove, however, with six burners and two ovens. I would like to put our Dixie wood-and-coal cookstove in, though, as we use it most of the year, and prefer it to any other kind of stove.

With my favorite shelves added along the wall between the dining room and kitchen, and the south wall full of cabinets (hurray!) that leaves not much but a walkway from mudroom to dining room.

So…I would like to build a new mudroom. Nothing fancy; just an unheated space across the whole front of the house, about 10 feet deep, divided into two sections. On the right hand would be a space with a laundry sink, in which I could also put my wringer washer. (Wringer washers can be amazingly efficient.) There would be a place on the ceiling fitted to hoist up a deer or whatnot, for butchering or hanging. There would be a floor drain, for…messes. Will could also process all his raw dog food mixtures in here. Along the east wall (front), there would be quite a long space in which to stack a supply of dry firewood. In the other section, to the left of the front door, would be a summer kitchen/canning kitchen.

Here the old propane stove from the current kitchen would go, and I would want a wide bench, with shelving underneath, suited for processing large batches of food, and storing large cooking pots, canners, and so on. A potting bench, for the spring planting season, would also be highly desirable. Ideally, I would want windows along the north and south walls, which, if done right, could even facilitate getting baskets of produce into the house, without having to track through the front door continuously. There would be a nearly straight shot to the basement, and hence the cellar, from the front door, however.  This summer kitchen would be twice as deep as the butcher/washing section, as the house is not even across the front. This means that a winter clothes closet would fit nicely along the south wall, where it wouldn’t risk getting spattered with blood from butchering. Of course, all floors would be cement – easy clean, few worries.

I’ve introduced these ideas to Will. He thinks they sound nice. (Translated: He has no commitment to the plan, but wouldn’t mind if it magically put itself into action.)

Naturally, that would leave the old mudroom as a place to spill over from the true kitchen. This is important, as, if we choose to have electricity on-grid (not much of a probability), I will keep two refrigerators in the “mudroom”, along the south wall. One would be for household use, and one for dairy. A herd of milking does can produce several gallons of milk a week, and I prefer to make cheese in five to ten gallon batches.  At any rate,  on-grid or off, I’ll need someplace (with controlled temperatures) to deal with the milk.  Also, it would be great to have someplace to put a work table, as the counter space is limited. Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.

Then – ahhh…at last. With these improvements, I’ll have a kitchen where I can cook without working around every project and family member in the house. Actually, two kitchens.

The First Real Snow, In Town

 Here is the snowfall in town. I think this first picture is pure magic.  Early morning nearly always has a bit of magic, even without snow and fancy camera settings.

 

 This picture is more true to the actual colors:

 

 I was thinking how cute this little evergreen would look with colored lights strung around it.

  K-10 was not especially sure he wanted to go out at first. He whined at the door, then bounded into the snow, and immediately raced back in, with a confused look on his face.