I was in an antique store and started talking Fiestaware with the owner. Her eyes lit up as she described how her mother would take them at Christmas to the store in Knoxville that carried Fiestaware dishes. They would pick out one new color each year. She went on to tell me about how much fun they would have arranging place settings at the 4H fairs, using all the different colors. When she finished talking, we grinned at each other, knowing that we both are part of the Fiestaware fan club for life.
As a person who doesn't care much about stuff, I'm a little surprised at how much I enjoy looking at all the pretty plates in my cupboard. A little bit of beauty, a delightful blend of colors, mixing and matching. . . an occasional visit to a garage sale or ebay to add one more color. . .
My children are bemused by this hobby, Jerry is perplexed. . . but my niece is starting a set, my nephew has a set, and Maria is gladly taking the latest set of 8 Fiestaware plates I found at a garage sale. Gotta love it :)
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Love covers a multitude of sins. . .
Our after-church discussion landed on the verse "Love covers a multitude of sins." Having exhausted the I Corinthians passage on wonderful actions done without the benefit of love (and how they thus meant nothing), we found solace in knowing that with love, even our imperfect attempts at patience, civility and generosity are draped with a wondrous blanket of grace. One participant in the conversation marveled that with our love, another's sins (a multitude no less) are somehow covered. I found comfort in knowing that our actions of love also cover over a multitude of our own messy, hurtful sins.
It's what I love about God--layer after layer of meaning, speaking to each of us, challenging us to love deeply, preparing us for tomorrow's encounters, frustrations and joys.
A good Sunday. . .
It's what I love about God--layer after layer of meaning, speaking to each of us, challenging us to love deeply, preparing us for tomorrow's encounters, frustrations and joys.
A good Sunday. . .
Saturday, July 23, 2011
bluegrass musings
I was listening to an interview with Gillian Welch today, and I realized anew that there is a bluegrass girl hiding in this soul. I felt every line as I sang along to "Orphan Girl", though I have a mother, a father, a sister, and a brother.
I can't listen to an Emmylou CD without singing every part, imagining that Neil Young just might show up for a singalong at MY house too, and that Allison Krauss is welcome with her fiddle at any time.
I put out a facebook request for a bluegrass jam, and I do believe people thought I was joking. I AM NOT. I don't need to be on stage, I don't even need to learn to play another instrument. I just want a group to sing in as many parts as we want, sitting around my living room.
Are there any other bluegrass wannabees out there?
I can't listen to an Emmylou CD without singing every part, imagining that Neil Young just might show up for a singalong at MY house too, and that Allison Krauss is welcome with her fiddle at any time.
I put out a facebook request for a bluegrass jam, and I do believe people thought I was joking. I AM NOT. I don't need to be on stage, I don't even need to learn to play another instrument. I just want a group to sing in as many parts as we want, sitting around my living room.
Are there any other bluegrass wannabees out there?
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