colonial farmhouse mantel with wheat and pumpkin decor thanksgiving 2023

Grateful This Thanksgiving Week

Hello! This Thanksgiving week, as I reflect on the world around me, I realize I have so much to be grateful for.

At a very basic level, all of my needs are truly met. I’m warm, safe, fed, and surrounded by the people dearest to me. Not everyone can say that right now and it reminds me to not take my present state for granted.

I’m also thankful to every one of you. Your most precious resource is your time and the fact that you spend 2 minutes of your day here does not go unnoticed or unappreciated.

I’m hoping I didn’t just make you reconsider how you spend your day by pointing that out. Oops! My bad. Don’t change a thing. You’re doing great!

fall flower arrangement in tool box in front of a fireplace in a colonial farmhouse

This blog is my happy place. I come here to laugh, share, and connect with all of you.

I would still do all of the same things if no one was here to read about it, like fixing up this old house and making crafty things, because those are things I enjoy doing.

Life has a funny way of surprising me sometimes. I never intended for this blog to be around for as long as it has been. Yet, here we are mainly because of you! Your time spent here means that we can keep the lights on, so to speak, for this spot on the internet. So, thank you!

You’re saving me from having to go back to a regular 9-5 gig. Talk about racking up the good karma!

Speaking of karma and a life well lived, I ran across a poem recently that speaks far more eloquently than I can about what it means to live a good life. I hope it resonates with you too.

Living by Edgar A. Guest

The miser thinks he’s living when he’s hoarding up his gold;
The soldier calls it living when he’s doing something bold;
The sailor thinks it living to be tossed upon the sea,
And upon this very subject no two men of us agree.
But I hold to the opinion, as I walk my way along,
That living’s made of laughter and good-fellowship and song.

I wouldn’t call it living to be always seeking gold,
To bank all the present gladness for the days when I’ll be old.
I wouldn’t call it living to spend all my strength for fame,
And forego the many pleasures which to-day are mine to claim.
I wouldn’t for the splendor of the world set out to roam,
And forsake my laughing children and the peace I know at home.

Oh, the thing that I call living isn’t gold or fame at all!
It’s fellowship and sunshine, and it’s roses by the wall.
It’s evenings glad with music and a hearth-fire that’s ablaze,
And the joys which come to mortals in a thousand different ways.
It is laughter and contentment and the struggle for a goal;
It is everything that’s needful in the shaping of a soul.

Wasn’t that a wonderful poem?

I will be taking the remainder of the week off the blog to be with family. You can keep track of what we are doing by following us on Instagram or Facebook.

I’ll be back next Monday with a fresh, new blog post!

Happy Thanksgiving.

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