House of a Thousand Dreams

I grew up in a small town on my grandfather’s cattle ranch.  I did love it, but it was all I knew, so I don’t think I really realized what I had: time, space, fresh air, ability to hear myself think, a front row seat to creation.

When I was 13, my family moved to ‘town.’  It was still a small town and I was closer to school and closer to my friends, so I loved it, too. Plus, I was a teenage girl with my own bathroom. What else mattered? 😉

Chris grew up in a small town, too.  He loved it.

When we got married, we moved into an apartment in a college town. We loved being newlyweds. I think we could’ve lived in a cardboard box that first year and loved it.

When Chris got a job, we moved into an apartment in a not-so-small college town.  And here we are.  We are thankful, but we don’t love it.  Over the last couple of years, the Lord has really given us a passion for getting back to the basics.  Learning how to be self-sustaining (in a temporal sense; He is our ultimate Sustainer).  Gardening.  Raising animals for food.  Learning how to sew, how to cook using traditional methods, preserving, etc.  This can all be done to a degree in an apartment, but not fully.

So we’ve prayed.  We’ve asked for a little more space.  An opportunity to get out of the city.

I’ll be honest.  I didn’t expect a “yes” so soon.

Silly me.

He’s a big God.  He’s a gracious God.

“He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?”  Romans 8:32

So, we’re moving…

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…to our house of a thousand dreams.

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The boy says, “My daddy’s a strong man
My momma, she loves him
And they love my brother and sister and me
Sometimes at night we lay out in the backyard
And take turns wishing on the first star we see”

“And the crickets always sing outside the windows
And I love to feel the wind blow through the screen
And I sure hope that we can live forever
In this house of a thousand dreams”

from House of a Thousand Dreams, performed by Martina McBride, written by Ilya Toshinsky, Billy Montana, Tammy Wagoner

My New Butter Crock

I mentioned in a recent post that we started buying our dairy and meat from a local dairy.  We picked up our second order last Saturday and this time, we ordered a pound of freshly churned butter.  As in, that morning.  Yep.  I know.

Like most store-bought butter, this fresh butter is not in sticks, but rather a circle.

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So, naturally, I started hunting online for a new butter dish.  I was planning on just buying a plain round butter dish, but as I started searching, I came across this guy.

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French butter crocks, or butter dishes, date back to 19th century France.  They are used to keep butter fresh without a refrigerator, not to mention spreadable!  Raise your hand if you don’t like hard butter… {totally raising my hand over here}.

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The French butter dish uses water to create a seal between the butter and the air, keeping it from turning rancid.  Butter, like oil, won’t mix with the water and it’s sticky enough to stay in the bell.

Just pour 1/3 cup of water into the crock and pack 1/2 cup of butter into the bell.  Put the bell back into the crock, and that’s it.  Super easy.  You’ll need to replace the water every 3 days.

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I’ll keep y’all posted on how it works out, but if you’re wanting one now (because, if nothing else, it would look awesome on any kitchen counter)… get it here.

Oh, and here’s a picture of the cutest butter consumer ever…

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