Faith ~ Home ~ Heritage ~ Wisdom
At some point in their lives women seem to ponder the question, What does it mean to live a well-lived life? Welcome. I’m so glad you are here. If we’ve never met before, I hope you’ll make yourself at home. Pour a cup of coffee or tea, settle into a comfortable chair, and stay awhile. […] Read more…
There are certain things we hold onto, not because they are particularly valuable or even beautiful, but because of the memories attached to them. An old serving set or a table linen that has stains that speak. A piece of furniture that has seen better days. A recipe written on an index card in handwriting […] Read more…
I have an old cookbook from Atkinson, Nebraska, that I have carried with me for years. It was put together many years ago by a woman’s group from one of the local churches. It isn’t fancy. There are no beautifully styled photographs or glossy pages. It is simply a collection of recipes contributed by women […] Read more…
There was a time when nearly every kitchen had one. A little wooden or metal box tucked into a cabinet or sitting on a countertop, filled with index cards in different handwriting. Some were neatly written. Others were stained with butter or vanilla, their corners softened from years of being pulled out and put back […] Read more…
There was a time when hearing from someone meant waiting. You waited for the mail to come. You recognized the handwriting on the envelope before you even saw the return address. And before the letter was even opened, you knew someone had taken the time to sit down, find a piece of paper, and write […] Read more…
There is something about a small town that makes us slow down. Maybe it is the old buildings lining Main Street, the locally owned shops with bells on the doors, or the coffee shop where the person behind the counter seems to know everyone who walks in. Maybe it is simply seeing people stop long […] Read more…
Over the last week, I’ve found myself wandering through small towns along the river – through Kentucky, Indiana, and Ohio. And I keep thinking about the same thing: Why are we so drawn to small towns? I know I am. I always have been, but the desire to be a part of a small-town community […] Read more…
There are some things we inherit that can never be written into a will. They are quietly passed from one generation to the next. Not in jewelry or land, but in the way a table is set, a cup of coffee shared, a door left unlocked for a neighbor, or a stranger made to feel […] Read more…
The other afternoon, I found myself standing at the ironing board with a small stack of vintage linens beside me. Nothing particularly important was happening. The house was quiet. There was laundry to put away and a basket full to wash, dinner needed to be figured out, and a half dozen other things I could […] Read more…
Woven fabric with frayed edges and metallic threading throughout. Two perfectly placed pockets and a linen tie that wrapped around the waist. Some had beautiful colors and florals, made of cotton that had grown soft from years of washing and wear. Others were saved for holidays. Some fit almost like a hug, buttoning across the […] Read more…
Lunches with grandpa are more than just a memory. I can still hear my grandfather’s voice and see him sitting at the kitchen table as we ate lunch together. These are some of my most cherished memories. From the time I was in kindergarten until I moved away, I would walk a block from my […] Read more…