For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulders: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace.
The angel went to her and said, “Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you.”Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be.But the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary; you have found favor with God.You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you are to call him Jesus.He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David,and he will reign over Jacob’s descendants forever; his kingdom will never end.”
And they said, “Isn’t this the carpenter’s son? Isn’t his mother’s name Mary?”
And I heard a great voice out of heaven saying, Behold, the tabernacle of God is with men, and he will dwell with them, and they shall be his people, and God himself shall be with them, and be their God. And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.
I pray for you to have a blessed Christmas with loved ones and that you are celebrating the Incarnation, through whom we can be reconciled with The Creator.
I am the delighted recipient of Mrs. Barn’s foodie-ism. She loves cooking as much as I love puttering in the shop. One of the benefits of this relationship is that I come down the hill for lunch and supper every day and there is a wholesome real-live meal awaiting me. She makes all our butter, yoghurt (our breakfast of choice for many years) and ice cream from scratch, as she does with almost everything else we eat. No wonder my matchmaking sister told me 45 years ago, “I’ve got just the girl for you!”
In recent years as an attempt to reduce our carb and white flour/wheat intake she has been making sourdough bread from einkorn she grinds herself. Admittedly she parcels it out like I was a junkie, maybe a slice or two a week. When we went lower-carb years ago I gave up sodas and fruit drinks cold turkey with no problem, Same for wheat pasta and other starches as she has found excellent alternatives (I actually prefer quinoa to rice and pureed cauliflower is almost equal to mashed potatoes). But bread? That was way tougher as I had been eating a whole loaf of grocery store bread every week and still love it.
She has compiled a recipe repertoire that I think she should turn into a cookbook (especially the wheat-free treats and sugar-free desserts, but she doesn’t think anybody would be interested. Sigh.)
Anyway, this video made me think of all this. I found it fascinating, she found it old news.
For the last several months I’ve been prevented from getting into a rhythm in the shop due to a host of wonderful family happenings, sometimes even going for weeks without darkening its doors. When I do get into the shop I spend a lot of time cleaning, organizing, and tuning up the shop itself. That really does not require really getting in the flow, I can just spend a few minutes here or there moving nd throwing away. In fact I’m trying to impose a better order and functionality of several shop spaces.
One of the unintended pleasures of the undertaking has been the rediscovery of items I did not even remember I had, at least until I put my hands and eyes on them. Such is the case with this 3″ x 3″ print, taken with a tiny Kodak Instamatic pocket camera fifty years ago. This piece was one of the “kits” delivered to the Schindler’s shop in the back of a Mercedes station wagon. Taking pictures of my projects was simply not part of my operating system back then, but this tulipwood and rosewood marquetry secretaire bore a royal inventory stamped, probably from about 1700. Along with the other “kits” I worked on around this time, including a pair of bureaus by Riesener, a switch was turned for me that has directed part of my life to this very day.
And I did not even remember this image until I found it while going through a box of ancient stuff. Heck, I haven’t even thrown away all my papers from college. My college career lasted from 1972 to 1985, so…
In a recent eight-day stretch here at Shangri-la we had more than a foot of snow, much earlier than normal for us in the Virginia (!) highlands. My pal MikeM lives in upstate New Tork and we note that our weather is basically similar, just one day earlier or later depending on which way the fronts are moving. Tomorrow night I think the overnight low will be approaching zero. That usually does not happen here until late January or early February.
Just for reference — the snow buildup on my shooting bench of 6″x8″ timbers.
It made me all the more thankful I have a mondo snow blower that can clear the driveway with three passes. On the other hand, even though it is power-drive it still requires rasslin’ a 350-pound machine on slippery ground. It took about an hour to clear the driveway from the front gate up to the barn. It took two days for my shoulders and hips to quit barking at me.
Last night as I was heading down the hill for supper I noticed this fascinating formation on the edge of the log barn roof. I’ve never seen anything quite like this.
Definitely time to get back to processing next winter’s firewood.
Perhaps because I am lackadaisical about organizing my own living and working spaces I find presentations of exquisite spatial and functional organization to be compelling. This video included ideas I will file away for that “whenever” time that I no longer have the barn space at my fingertips.
Recently Li’l T got a small rasp and has been going to town carrying it around the house with the rasp and a scrap workpiece from Dada’s latest project. The time has come for Grandpa to think about lighting the torch to be passed to this little guy and his littler brother, Mighty M, who wants to be doing everything his big brother is doing. Littlest brother Wondrous W is only a month old so he is behind the curve for now, as is their cousin Dynamic D who is nine months old. Yeah, walking and talking are helpful in the process.
About 35 years ago I made a pair of half-scale but honest to goodness workbenches for my girls. To that end I recently took Mama’s workbench to live in Dada’s little workshop in the garage for Li’l T amd Mighty M to sue to their hearts content.
This new epoch makes tools a part of the equation for every Christmas and birthday from this point on. Whew.
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