Shades of White

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Someday I will have a clean house, all the time.  Right now I have a clean house, some of the time, and it lasts about 20 seconds or less.  Less, usually, because my little ones just go play in the clean rooms while I work in the dirty ones.

So when I’m craving the feeling that things are tidy and relaxing, sometimes I have to take myself on a little tour and just pause to enjoy the spots and corners that are inviting.
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I realized that one of the things I appreciate the most is the color white.  I love the way white lets you appreciate texture so much.   I love how calming it is.  And I love the way it looks with blue.   So I decided to snap a few photos of different shades of white in some of my favorite little spots.
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Mirrors, linens, frames… I love the simple beauty of white.
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I think that patterns, texture, lines and so forth all show up better on white, where there’s no color to interfere with my appreciation of it all.  This is a vintage runner that I bought for around $5.  It’s not a fine linen, but I really like it.
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This star hangs over my front door, which happens to be where my boys most love to throw balls (go figure).  So….. every so often, the wonderful vintage star comes crashing to the floor, gouging walls and floor, losing countless pieces of paint, and getting all bent up on the points.  At this point there is always much apology, much discussion over the fact that we have bedrooms, basement, toyroom, and, heaven forbid! the outdoors in which to throw balls instead of in the entryway, and I always walk away shaking my head a little at the workings of a boy’s brain.  So we’ll just say that I really appreciate what white is left on this star and I sincerely hope we’ve learned our lesson.  I suppose I could give in and move it, but it’s really quite perfect where it is, and I’m really quite certain that we can learn to throw balls in more appropriate locations.
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For Mother’s Day, my sweet parents bought us an old, used piano.  It is wonderful.  Somebody painted it white.
In any other room, in most any other house, it would look out of place.  But in this room in this house, it is perfect.
I love it.  I love the legs on it.  And my kids love to play it.
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I love little spots that are serene and attract light.
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If you were going to wander your house in search of happy glimpses, what color would you pause most often to gaze at?
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For me, today, it was definitely white against a blue backdrop.  They’re both lovely colors!

Wonderful Old Crockpot

I just wanted to tell you about my crockpot.  It’s been my friend for 18 years now.
I hope to have it till I die.
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It was old when I got it.  My dad bought it for me at a yard sale before I left for college (my Dad and yard sales are an amazing combination.  I swear he can find anything at a yard sale.  I wish yard sales where I live were half as good as they are back home).

At the time, I remember looking at it and thinking, “Wow.  It’s big and it’s ugly, but I might as well take it.”
Now I think it’s beautiful.  And yes, it’s big.  6 quarts!  I love it.

I have newer crockpots, programmable ones, littler ones.   Yet this is the crockpot I use EVERY time.  They really don’t make them like they used to.  It never fails me.  It cooks food the way I want it to, in the time I want it to.  It doesn’t scorch, make its own decisions, or cook too fast or too slow.  It’s just right.  And it holds just the right amount of food for a woman who’s always cooking for a crowd.

This crockpot has cooked dinner for the Cub Scouts Blue and Gold Banquet, potlucks, countless meals for people with lives temporarily upside down.  It’s saved me time and again on a crazy day.  I can’t count how many family dinners it’s helped me with.  I really mean it when I say that I love my crockpot.   It may not be a vintage item that sits out for display, but it proudly parks on my kitchen counter quite regularly to serve as my number one assistant.  In my book, it certainly counts as one of my wonderful old things!

My New Friend

I have a new friend in the form of a kitchen gadget.
It’s my  oxo cherry pitter.
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I’ve been trying to get my hands on one for the past week, but they’ve been sold out everywhere.  (Of course every employee has reminded me gently that it is, after all, cherry season, and lots of people thought of this a couple of weeks ago.  I don’t tell them that I was at the beach thinking about sandcastles and water and sunscreen.)
Finally I thought of another store that might have one.
I called…. and raced in to buy the last one!
I wish I had three.

This thing takes care of cherry pits in a serious way.  I couldn’t believe how quickly I was able to remove all the pits from my cherries for a few more batches of jam and fruit leather.
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That’s a lot of pits!  And look at this beautiful pile of pitted cherries just waiting to be made into something yummy:
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I’m so thankful to have this handy little tool, especially with another tree that is almost to the dripping with juice stage.

Yep, life is good with a cherry pitter in hand.
If I could just keep it in hand!  My kids think it’s so cool that they suddenly need to use it every ten minutes.
That’s okay.  Helpers are good things.

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