My Piano

My Piano

In addition to my continued work preparing inventory for the holidays, and sending off a prayer journal, last week was Piano Week.  It's hard to find the right words for this experience.  The piano came from my childhood home, one of the last things to be moved.  It doesn't matter how old or how prepared one might be; the truth is that it hurts to lose parents.  Yes, it softens the harsh edges of grief to know that we will be reunited in heaven, but being an orphan - even an old orphan - isn't easy.  I just miss my mom and dad.  Aren't I blessed to have parents I miss so much?

The studio has been ready for the piano for some time.  I'll move piano lessons from our home to the studio now that the piano is in place.  My husband won't have to find an alternate place to land after work on Tuesday evenings any more.  It is all a wonderful plan and I'm excited about it.  But watching this little Gulbransen spinet be moved into its space in my studio - well, it was just hard.  It belonged along the wall under the stairs at home.  That's where I put in endless hours of practicing, emoting and venting, learning, perfecting, playing for fun and for work...  it has been in that space since 1964.  Fifty years.  That's a very long time.

So, welcome to your new home, little piano.  Thank you to my husband, my brother and my brother-in-law for gently moving and muscling the piano into its new space.  Not a grumble was heard.  And now it sits happily against a south-facing wall, with a cheery new bright green philodendron there welcome it to its new home.  The very first piano lessons in the studio will be on November 11.  That will also be the very first time the studio has been used for a public purpose. There are a lot of very firsts coming up.  Gulp.  I'll let you know how it goes.

Can't Stop

 Can't Stop

Today it's hard to stop and reflect, to make myself quit working, sit down and write.  It's been a busy, happily productive week.  Because our journals are so labor-intensive, I'm pretty focused on building up inventory in anticipation of the Christmas season.  I'm working from morning to night, and I find it hard to turn out the lights and stop at the end of the day.  I'm doing work I love.  How amazing is that?

The first journal I finished this week is a Thanksgiving journal.  The first page in this journal presents a bright and bold What-if.  It's pretty much a pop-culture quote, but a strong reminder that every breath we breathe is a gift from our heavenly Father.  Every sandwich, every tank of gas, every joy, and even every trial come to us through His grace.

And speaking of amazing gifts... this is our first fall in the studio, and our new, nearly-completed space is working out so well.  I feel like I'm dreaming most days.  I go to work just outside the back door.  I'm nestled against the woods and the changing colors give me a new masterpiece every day.

The interior is set up in stations, making my work there so much more efficient.  For making my journals, I'm enclosed in a comfortable circle of tools and materials and I can move from computer to digital cutter to worktable to paper cutter to glue.  What a luxury to have all my "stuff" right there where I can reach it.  My husband is making this space for me, and I struggle to find words to describe the love in his gift. 

So today I thank God for His love and Jerry's love and our health and our home and His endless provision and for my studio, and... and...  and...  the list is endless.  But I'll end with heart-whole, whole-hearted thanks for those very difficult and humbling moments that remind me how much I need Him.

Late-blooming Blogger

Late-blooming Blogger

I've read blogs, read about blogs. I've been entertained by blogs and learned through blogs. I've watched movies about blogs.  I even get the word-origin thing.  I thought maybe having a blog as my accountability partner in growing my  business was an inspired idea. In the middle of last night  it seemed like a good thing to do.  I'm best friends with 3:31 a.m. Today I'm filled with doubts.  Probably I'm just too tired to enjoy the learning curve.

So.  I learn to blog.  Maybe someone will read this blog and become interested in puddletown fayre.  Maybe I'll learn more about how my nervous little business should grow, or maybe I'll discover new ways to create.  Or maybe...  Well, these maybes could go on and on.  At the very least, I'll have a record of our progress from this point forward.  I think I'll learn a lot from that.

puddletown fayre is a long-held dream.  Perhaps we'll get into the slow progress of this dream another time.  But it seems that life's crises are currently in recession.  I'm having moderate success in my Etsy shop and a couple of local outlets where my journals are finding new homes.  It's easy to visit either my website or my Etsy shop.  The studio is nearly finished, and that means I could move forward sometime this year with Phase II of puddletown fayre. 

Oh, you should know at the outset that puddletown fayre is supported by prayer and a steadfast belief that God has a plan for this business.  It's going to be exciting and very, very fun to see how God wants to use puddletown fayre.