in clover: sacred brokenness

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(This is a post that ran a few years ago...I have no idea why but it wants to post again, today.  Who am I to stand in the way of the spirit?)

In the spring of 2005, I was expecting a baby girl (little c) and a 40 foot high cube container of antiques from England and France.   The few years preceding had been difficult for my extended family…there had been deaths, divorces, financial troubles and other trying personal issues.   Lots of painful change. We had faced some hard times.

Anxious to get the new inventory cleaned, displayed and sold before the baby arrived, I was counting down the days until the ship carrying my container docked in Norfolk, VA.  The container would then make its way by truck to the shop.  Everything would need to be unpacked, cleaned, inventoried, photographed, priced and sold.  Post September 11, the import business had changed a lot but in almost 10 years we had never had any trouble getting our container through customs.   

Never say never.  First the container was detained for X-ray inspection.  Apparently my penchant for old garden and farm tools raised suspicions and so the container was completely unpacked for a physical inspection.  I was physically unable to do heavy lifting so Michael drove to Virginia. He had been told on the phone that he could repack the container.  A container, well packed, is a thing of beauty…hastily packed, it’s a disaster.  Michael drove home a week later, having never been allowed to even lay eyes on our container.

Two weeks later it arrived and we held our breath.   A birdbath…the basin cracked in two…a carton of blue and white porcelain plates shattered.  The leg of a very fine 18^th century buffet, snapped.  The list went on.  As we dug into the middle of the container I came upon a pile of what had once been lovely French earthenware jugs.  I was excited that I had been able to source so many and had imagined how I would display them and how great they would look.  They were shattered inside their shoddily replaced bubble wrap. 

At the end of the day, we realized it could have been worse. The furniture could be repaired, although it would be costly.  I sat on the floor with the damaged plates and a hammer.  I broke them into small pieces and displayed the broken bits in large glass canisters.  Finally I sold the pieces to a woman wanting to learn mosaic work.  Mike glued the birdbath together and brought it to our home…we didn’t think we could guarantee it well enough to feel right about selling it to someone else.  The French jugs were a lost cause except for one that was broken across the middle.  I sat it in an out of the way corner, by my work station, and left it there.

One day, I was helping a client sketch ideas and plans for a small fountain.   She had an old tub to for the base and was looking for something for the actual font.   She decided on an urn…the water would bubble up from the center, cascade down the sides of the urn and back into the tub.  It was going to be lovely.  I had been threatening to add a water feature to our garden for years but I didn’t like the fountains I saw for sale at home improvement stores.     

Hmmmm….

I wandered the store looking for pieces to combine into a fountain.  One of the biggest hurdles to designing a fountain is hiding the pump.  I knew that my fountain would go under a dogwood tree so it needed to be low to the ground…not too tall.  A low stone trough would be great but what to go with it?

Maybe an urn like my client chose?  No, the colors were too similar.  An enamel body pitcher?  No, it would rust out in a season and the scale was all wrong. Maybe an English watering can?  No, just didn’t look right.  Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the two pieces of the broken French jug.  I set the top in the trough.  The angle of the break was just right…just right for a fountain!  The dark brown color stood out against the putty colored stone.  And best of all, because the bottom was missing (broken), the pump would be easily hidden.  Voila!  My perfect fountain.

Most of the time, I am able to see the sacred in wholeness. But when something breaks, I try to fix it. And that’s ok…many things CAN be mended.  In fact, in this disposable world we live in, more things SHOULD be mended.  When things can’t be fixed or we won’t take the time or the trouble to try, we often dispose of them….send them off to the landfill where we don’t have to see them anymore.   

But there is sacredness in the broken things too…broken things, broken relationships, even broken people.   It’s all sacred.  When something breaks and cannot be fixed, we have an opportunity to re-vision it…give it a new purpose.  Instead of banishing it from our sight, we can learn to live with the imperfection…the loss.  We can sit and look at the broken things…learn to appreciate them fully…even come to love them… maybe even more than we did in their wholeness. 

As a whole, perfect thing, the French jug would have sat in my dining room…a lovely display. But in its brokenness, the jug directs cool water into a basin….the water makes music …robins bath in my fountain every morning!  Children cannot resist dipping their hands into the stream.   

I am aware that the jug, in its brokenness, is much, much more fragile than when it was whole.  When the weather turns cool, I do not take a chance.  A cold snap would shatter it for sure.  I store it more carefully than I do the other summer things.  For one thing, how would I replace it? Where does one find a broken jug for sale?  The jug, BECAUSE of its brokenness, is precious to me.   In some ways, it is irreplaceable.

I wonder how it would feel if we treated the broken and chipped places of our hearts with the same care?   As a trainee to become a Spiritual Director, I am required to receive spiritual direction.  I think that so far, most of what I have been learning is just that…to accept, love and cherish those things about me that are nicked…cracked….even shattered.  When we search for the sacred, I hope we do not over look the broken things.

Peace, 

Lisa

in clover: playdate

I decided recently to have a play date with my dining room.  I think of it as my "puttering meditation."  It's fun to experiment with linens and dishes and glassware to create what I see other bloggers calling a "tablescape."  (So many "new" words these days!)

If I named this tablescape, I guess I'd call it "french country meets retro american" ...that's an old French wire market basket in the center, filled as if the hostess had just returned from Market Day mixed with vintage and new Fiestaware pottery.  I paired the fiesta with 1960's blue pressed glass goblets (a hand me down from my mom that she will likely now threaten to take back!) and linens with a polka dot and spiral motif. The place mats are more traditional and the napkins are a bit more modern.  Sometimes the mix works and sometimes it doesn't.  I try mixing things up until I like what I see.  This mix is special to me...I think because my attraction to the two styles, retro american and french country both represent different periods of my life.  I love this integration of the two. 

 

I tried replacing the market basket with an old galvanized metal scoop or dipper.  I also swapped the place mats and pottery out.  I love how the scoop looks as a centerpiece filled with lemons! 

 The scoop is listed on ebay but I kind of hope it doesn't sell.  (Update:  It sold!) 

Next I tried a black and white theme featuring an old European enamel flour bin filled with a topiary as a centerpiece...

Here's the flour bin filled with lemons, accompanied by Michael's grandmother's chicken salt and pepper shakers. Got them for my birthday last year!  Love them.  I think this tablescape needed a bit more work though...maybe a burlap feedsack runner?

This was a spring table I put together for Easter.  I use the same things over and over...just changing a few elements...that really is necessary when you are a cottage dweller.  Space is at a premium so things must be able to be used in many different ways. Sometimes my life feels the same...time is at a premium so the ways I choose to spend it really need to do double or even triple duty!

I did not expect those napkins to go with the paisley place mats but when I tried them together, I liked the combo. Sometimes my life is like this...I don't expect elements to go together but unexpectedly, they do!  When I am playing with my creativity, it is helpful to have "beginner's mind" instead of "expert mind."  I never know if something will work until I try. 
 

I've read that if you desire to foster creative impulses, it is important to allow yourself time to play.  Often, when we attempt to be creative, we put a tremendous amount of pressure on ourselves because we are focused on the outcome.  It is important, if your goal is to foster creativity,  to allow yourself "play time" with no attachment to outcome...like a child. 

When is the last time you had a play date with yourself?  You might consider treating yourself to a trip to your junk store  or art supply store soon....or just stay home and play with the toys you already have.  

All work and no play....

You might be surprised how restorative a play date with yourself can be.  I always am.

peace and all good, 

Lisa  

in clover: paint by number

With my vision impaired, I have not been getting out of the house much at all.  I was getting a little stir crazy so I emailed a friend and suggested a "lunch and junk" outing.  She took me up on my offer which was nice because she had to do all the work!  She's such a good sport.  Once, she rode in my van with her head stuck through a hole in an old screen  door I bought for $1.  That was the only way we could get home.  That's a good, good friend!

We had so much fun!  Driving around the countryside of Central Ky on a pretty day was a pleasure indeed and when we landed at a genuine estate sale,  I was delighted to find a few things I just could not live without.  Here's a photo of my haul, right after we unloaded her truck: 

I was particularly captivated by this pair of 1960's paint by number paintings in faux bamboo frames. I debated and debated...are they cool?  or tacky?  cool?  tacky?  I really don't care for parrots...I don't think....but I LOVED the colors and really liked the bamboo and exotic flowers.  And whoever painted these, from a dime store kit, did a really great job!

When I bought the three dozen or so canning jars, the nice man threw in the unusual square galvanized tub.   These jars give me a good start on next year's pickles and jam. 

My friend spotted the vintage Minolta camera and steered me towards it.  I have a thing for vintage cameras and telephones.  I find them irresistible.  Maybe because they both facilitate communication? Maybe I wanted the camera because it looked like the one I coveted for years...the one my dad toted over his shoulder in the seventies...not sure...I imagine that's a question I could tackle in my journal soon! 

I am very glad I decided not to pass on these two funny little chicken pillows (on the right) for the breakfast nook.  They seemed like the perfect companions for the yellow hooked pillow I bought from Garnet Hill last year: 

So enthralled was I by my retro paint by numbers art, that I set out to find a spot for those parrots right away.  They looked great against the yellow walls of our living room so I decided to try a swap.  Over our sofa, we have a large French iron mirror flanked by vintage French sconces and two Victorian era iron heating grate covers: 

Love these iron grates but they do lack color....

 I decided the parrots deserved a chance.

Yep, that'll work! The parrots bring new energy to the space and I smile every time I see them. 

It's fun to have a little make-over, estate sale style! Plus, I got to hang out with my friend.  All that's left is to find a place for those white iron grates.  

In spiritual direction, we are taught to pay attention.  We are taught to continually ask ourselves what feels life-giving...and what feels life-taking.   

As I type, I find myself wondering if it's wise to post these photos...you might snicker at my idea of "art"...or you might think that my time could have  been used more productively...that I could have been doing something more important or "real."    

Maybe.  It might be silly...inconsequential...genuinely a waste of time.  It may not be productive or bring kudos...but looking for treasure among junk and puttering about my house fills me with a sense of life.

If Spirit whispers to me....make your home with cast off 1960's dime store art, a 50 cent pair of imperfectly sewn calico chickens and a junky old galvanized washtub...who am I to argue?  

Resisting the movement of Spirit never seems to have gotten me anywhere, except stuck.  That doesn't mean that following what is life-giving is always easy...sometimes it can feel darned uncomfortable. (Think "spiritual director" rather than "ordained minister.")  It can feel vulnerable.

But, in the end, choosing to go with the flow has always been the best choice.   Especially when you can go along with a friend who'll stick her head through an old screen door, just to keep you company.

peace and all good, 

Lisa

in clover: re-vision

I can't see.  

I have contracted a stubborn virus that has temporarily injured my eyes and significantly impaired my vision.   I cannot wear the contact lenses that I have worn nearly every day of my life since ninth grade.  My distance vision with glasses is ok but not great...kind of like opening your eyes under water...but I can't see a thing up close with my glasses on, so to read or use the computer I must remove the , which means everything else is a blur.  Needless to say, the idea of vision has been the focus of my contemplative life lately.

Many of the old things I sell are at their "vintage chic-est" when re-purposed for something other than their intended use....a cast iron gutter hopper as a wall sconce....a rusty wire basket as a moss lined planter....an enamel farm bucket as a wine bucket for a party...galvanized wash tub as raised garden bed...old iron grate as art...all re-purposed or RE-Visioned.  It's fun to re-vision vintage items.  LOTS of fun! 

Spending quite a few hours in the dark, reflecting, I am even more mindful that just like the old things that I always seem to find their way to me, I can re-vision the everyday happenings of my life, recognizing them as the important spiritual learnings I believe they are.  I can look for the Sacred in the ordinary,  moments of my life...even the uncomfortable ones.  Or maybe that should be, especially the uncomfortable ones.   I've tried to stay open to Spirit.   I've asked myself what this dis-ease has to teach me?  Is there something I don't want to see?  Is there something I need to see?  I don't have any answers yet but I will keep sitting with it.

Meanwhile, since I haven't gone out into the light of day much at all, I've been busy re-visioning the things that have been languishing in my basement since I closed my shop. It's nice and dark in the basement!  :)

One of the items I listed on ebay this week is a vintage french fishing creel.   I wanted to include some inspiring photos in my listing so I tried to come up with creative ways to use the creel.  First, I photographed it in the garden....

Then I tried it in the breakfast nook with some faux lavender...

And then I tried it in my ever so tiny downstairs half bath.  I filled it with vintage looking dishtowels.  My towels are not vintage but are precious, as they were embroidered by Michael's mom and grandmother.  I think I liked the basket best here.

And speaking of re-visioning...when you are a cottage dweller, as we are, you need to make the most of every inch of space.  Michael and I both enjoy photography but wall space for displaying our efforts is limited, so we turned a wall in this tiny half bath into our version of an art gallery...

The squarish basket in the corner is an English fishing basket....much different style than the French one and I believe would not be referred to as a proper "creel."  The French basket is designed to be slung around the body.  The square English basket also has a carrying strap but it is designed to be a little stool for sitting, while you fish.  Charming.   I tucked this smallish one in the corner to hold spare tp rolls. 

So that's what I've been doing lately....sitting in the dark...my temporary loss of sight led me to a space just perfect for re-visioning.  The movement of Spirit never ceases to amaze me.

peace and all good, 

Lisa

in clover: funnel of love

Girl's Day!  My mother-in-law was visiting AND it was her birthday, so she and I took off with our little c for a girl's only lunch except we let Michael join us (just for lunch) because she is HIS mama and he doesn't get to see her near as often as he'd like. 

Crepes at the The Six Friends Cafe was a birthday treat.  I LOVE crepes.  Sweet crepes, savory crepes...I never met a crepe I didn't like. I had the "Tanner" and MIL had the "Erica" and they kindly let little c make up her own...ham and cheddar. 

But the best part was the antiquing after lunch. MIL found a 70's McCoy smiley face cookie jar.  She told me she had one in the 70's and that one of her three boys broke it throwing a ball or "something" in the house.  She did not buy it for herself but I was able to send my FIL and Big C on a super secret mission to retrieve it.  She loved her birthday surprise!  Little c was very good.  Wish I had a nickel for every time she exclaimed, "Mommy!  Isn't this beautiful?"  So much fun.  I found several treasures at Feather Your Nest...

I especially love this great old funnel I found in a booth in the back.  The metal has a fabulous patina and well, call me crazy but I love funnels in general. I had a bunch of old funnels once upon time, in my shop, but they all sold long ago.  When I saw this one, I knew exactly what I wanted to do with it.  And I was pretty sure where I wanted to put it.

First, sweet Michael drilled two holes in the side for me...

and then I rounded up some leftover wire from a beading project.

I hoped for the best with the wire but just in case I had trouble with the wire, I had a spool of hemp cord for back up.

The spout of a funnel makes for perfect drainage...

so I strung the wire through the holes, added some compost and voila...a hanging basket or technically, a hanging funnel.  Whatever.  I hung it on the aviary.  So CUTE!  I knew I was going to like it but I didn't know I was going to like it this much. 

I planted it with rose purslane and bright green veronica sunshine. Neither  require much water or much room so they should be very happy in their new "funnel of love" home.

I think it looks perfect, hanging on the aviary.  I'm sure my hens like it too.  

And best of all...my funnel cost a whopping $5.  The purslane and veronica were on sale for about $9.  And that, my friends, is a whole lot of fun for under $15.  I love container gardening.  It's a lot of fun to look for interesting containers at junk and antique shops and estate sales.  You should try it. 

Just for fun, I searched etsy for "vintage funnel."  I found this cutie pie hanging lamp made from an old funnel.  (Click the link or the image to buy it!) 

On ebay, I found this darling french copper funnel.  (Click the link or image to buy it!)  

I bet you could find an interesting and unique garden container, if you kept an eye out.

As for finding any eggs in my coop nesting boxes...still nada. Perhaps the hanging basket will assure the girls of my devotion and inspire them to get busy. Or perhaps not.  My chicken keeping neighbor said to me, "Lisa, if I was living in a fancy French hotel, I wouldn't want to go to work either." 

*Smile*

I'll keep you posted.

Peace,

Lisa

  

in clover: empty nest

If you are wondering, I am still waiting.  Still an empty nester. Not a single egg yet. 

My friend suggested that my girls are enjoying their fancy "French - Kentucky" lifestyle and don't care to have any babies to tie them down.  

That gave me pause!

When I chose to incorporate the antique French aviary into my chicken run, I never anticipated that particular problem. 

I'll keep you posted. 

Namaste,

Lisa

in clover: egg envy

After finding my vintage French egg basket lying about the garden in various locations, I decided it would be best to hang it near the nesting boxes built into the side of our chicken coop.  I needed quite a long hook for it to "look right." I was just sure I had some old plant hooks hidden away in the shed or basement for an occasion such as this but alas, they were not to be found.  

I did discover a trio of vintage french light fixtures I picked up in Normandy and tucked away because, well, you NEVER KNOW when you will need a trio of vintage French light fixtures.  Seriously.  Looking at the fixture I realized....

that it is just the right size and it looks like a hook.  If the wiring were gone, as well as the "thingy that the lightbulb screws into", well, it would BE a quite charming hook.  Don't you agree?

Don't really care for the big silver screws Michael used to mount it to the fence, but I will take that up with him later.

Removing the old wiring and the "thingy that the light bulb screws into" is just fine. You should ALWAYS rewire vintage lighting.  Kits for rewiring are inexpensive and easy to use, do not risk a fire.  Rewire! 

And, if you buy a fixture from outside the US the "thingy that the light bulb screws into" will have to be replaced anyway.  So I have not harmed this fixture in the least by using it as a hook. 

I have to tell you...in all my buying trips to the French countryside, I found and purchased many egg baskets but never, not even once, did it ever occur to me that I might use one for...gathering eggs! 

(I really can't stand those silver screws)....but here is my basket, hanging right by the nesting boxes.  Hens like to lay eggs in a bit of a secluded, cozy space but they will also share nests so we have two nesting boxes for six hens.  Actually, it's one box divided in two.  

Just an hour or so after it was hung, the phone rang.

It was my friend John-Mark.  I purchased my hens from John-Mark and his wife.  Back in February, after moving to a new home,  they were getting a new flock started.  They knew I was interested in starting a micro-flock so they offered me some of their babies.  I took six and John-Mark gave the other extras to his niece.

He identified himself on the phone and then said,  "Lisa," (short dramatic pause)  "...I got an egg today." 

And I squealed!  And I squealed...and I squealed again.  SOOO exciting!

I wanted ALL the details..."Which one laid it?  What color?  How big?"

SOOO exciting!

That was last night.  I have checked the coop numerous times today hoping for an egg of my own.  I think I have injured my shoulder from lifting the coop roof over and over.  A friend gently suggested my hens might be experiencing "performance anxiety." 

And then, this afternoon, I got a photo text.  John-Mark's niece has an egg too!  A lovely light brown egg. 

Serious egg envy has set in.

I went outside and had a chat with the girls.  "It's time!"  I told them.  "You are big girls now.  Time to get down to business."   They just looked at me. 

Truth be told, I am having so much fun with these chickens I had almost FORGOTTEN about them actually laying eggs...but if the rest of the flock is producing, well, I want an egg too. So I am sitting.  And waiting.

Michael asked what I am up to.  "I have a glass of wine and I am waiting."  I replied.  "Waiting for what?"  he asked.  "My egg." I replied.  

He mumbled something that sounded an awful lot like, "A watched chicken never lays an egg"  and wandered off.

He's probably right but I really, really don't want to miss it. 

I'll keep you posted.

Namaste,

Lisa

in clover: plan b

This photo of our raised veggie bed was taken in mid May.  In late April, Mike picked up a load of 50-50 topsoil / organic compost from a local place.  Meanwhile, Central Kentucky experienced the wettest April on record.  When Mike loaded the soil into the new raised beds, it smelled to high heaven.  I was really concerned and even gave the folks a call.  I was afraid we had received uncomposted horse manure and I wasn't sure I should plant.  Horse manure is excellent for a garden but it must be well composted.  I was assured that there was no manure in our compost and it was ready to plant. 

Here it is as of yesterday.  Unfortunately, in six weeks time there has been very little growth and blooms wither almost immediately, instead of setting fruit. I don't think we were intentionally given hot compost but I do think we got soil that was not ready for use.  Next time I will listen to my inner voice and trust my instincts.

When I brought my plants home from Wilson's Nursery in mid May, they were healthy and beautiful and the smell had subsided from the bed. I remember thinking that maybe it had just been too wet. I crossed my fingers and hoped for the best.  I got the plants in the ground the same afternoon.  I noticed the soil had quite a bit of clay clods and a hardpack had formed on the top.  I stripped off the hardpack and watered everything really well. 

This photo is of a tomato plant I planted in my own compost (taken today).

And this is a tomato plant planted at the same time, in the topsoil/compost blend I purchased locally. 

I knew it was the soil that was the problem because I planted directly in the ground last summer in this same location and despite the severe drought and my sporadic watering,  I still got a good harvest.  I needed a rescue plan...it was time for PLAN B.

With the growth of two trees which were saplings when we moved here, much of the sunny spaces in our back garden are now shady spaces.  I had to get creative.  In the end, I removed one each of the acorn and zucchini squash plants, three tomatoes, and three peppers and put them here, on the edge of the perennial bed. I'm calling this the "potager." 

In the raised bed, I removed the rest of the plants and dug nice sized planting holes which I filled with organic top soil Mike purchased in a hurry from Home Depot.  (Remember...this is a rescue plan!) 

 My neighbor told me that the problem with "hot" compost is that it leaches the water from the soil.  He thinks my rescue plan might work and advised me to overwater.  So that's what I am doing.  Only time will tell. 

This is gardening.  There are no guarantees.  Things change...a tree matures and a sun garden becomes a shade garden.  Or an ice storm takes down a tree and a shade garden becomes a sun garden.  Some years we get drought, some years we get flood.  Some years we get both. Sometimes, we get hot compost.  It's just how it is. That's gardening.  That's life.  We need to find a way to get ok with a Plan B. If we want to feel peaceful, that is. 

Sometimes Plan B can turn out to be what some people call a "blessing in disguise."  I really love the new potager.  That area of my  garden needed something and I didn't know what.  I've tried different things but who knew tomatoes and peppers would be just the ticket! And the zuchinni that I was going to try to grow vertical (which apparently is not easy) now has plenty of room to spread out...both in the potager and in the raised bed.  And I've learned a lot about the science of soil which will make me a better gardener. 

I may have a diminished and / or late harverst this year but I feel confident I WILL have a harvest.

Elsewhere around the garden, things are going really well. While I was rummaging in the shed, I found this old french faucet I forgot I had.

The basil I started from seed and transplanted to a tub in the perennial bed is doing great.  That's purple spider wort behind it.  I pulled that out a few years ago because it drove me crazy.  It was always flopping over.  But a sprig of it remained and it is quite large again.  But now, the tub holds it upright.  Everyone is happy.   

 

The coneflowers are ready to bloom...

There are a few tomatoes on the vine....

Little c and I planted these begonias in a vintage French wire egg basket for our outdoor dining table.  She brought them home from church on Mother's Day. 

The ross moss is my favorite in the window boxes this year.  So lovely.



And there is even more basil in a pot by the French aviary, a nice sunny spot.  I really love basil.  Just have to keep it out of pecking distance.  Chickens love basil too.  

How is your garden growing?  Am I the only one on Plan B?