Dressing up my dresser...

Many years ago in Memphis, I saw a wooden bureau at someones curb. This was the sign, there, that the object was up for grabs. Grab it I did, wrestling it into the back of my mini van, feeling like a thief, but delighted with my treasure.  It was nothing fancy, but had a pleasing shape, was a nice, solid wooden piece, and offered a small footprint. Since the rooms in our house were small, this suited me.  It was painted Big Bird yellow, and had little rubber ducky drawer pulls. Clearly it had once held some precious baby clothes.  I intended for it hold clothes for my baby, as well.  I painted it on a drop cloth in the middle of the living room floor. Sponge paint was all the rage, and I painted it white with blue sponge paint. I replaced the knobs with plain wooden ones. I always thought I'd upgrade one day, but the piece has stayed with me, moving from room to room, home to home. It became my dresser at some point.  Recently I gave our bedroom a freshen up... new paint, new summer bed spread, a little rearranging.  I moved the bureau to the guest room, and put a different one in our room for me.  After a week I moved it back, I missed it.  But I had to admit it looked much more shabby than it did chic.  So I got to thinking about how to freshen things up a bit.

I bought some chalk paint, known for excellent coverage, an attractive matte finish, and ease of application.  Then I went on the hunt for some new drawer pulls.  I planned on clear glass pulls, I've used them in other projects and like them very much. I was at the store with 8 glass knobs in my hands, when something caught my eye.  I pondered for only a moment, then put the clear ones back and came home with these beauties.

 One afternoon, between finishing grooming and starting farm chores, I zipped up stairs and slapped a fresh coat of paint on my old friend. Here is how she looked before, chipped and grubby, with little hand painted flowers I'd put there 20 years or so before.

I hadn't realized just how sad it looked until I began working on it.  It's one of those things that I used every day, but never paid much attention to.

I opened the new paint, with the multi tool Chris gave me, bearing my name on one side, and the words, "World's Best Wife" on the other.  And then I started to paint it on. True to what I'd heard, the paint covered a multitude of sins in no time flat. In true Waters woman fashion, I managed to splatter it well past the old towel I was using as a drop cloth, and had to spend long minutes wiping up my floor. Sigh.

In no time, the grimy, chipped finish was hidden. I could hardly wait to but the knobs on. 

The end result was pleasing to me. But I had more up my sleeve.  The next day an artist customer brought her two dogs here, and while we groomed she took her paints up stairs and added her two cents to the face lift.

And that was the frosting on the cake.

I need to find some other things to decorate the top, but you get the general idea.

This little pine dresser, gleaned free from the side of the road, has held my clothes for many a year. Now it will do so with a bit more style.

Oh shoot...!

To celebrate Father's Day, Chris wanted to trek to Bangor so we could check out a newer indoor shooting range he has been wanting to try. After morning chores I cooked him up his favorite breakfast, sausage with biscuits and gravy. I only cook this once or twice a year, because it is not exactly healthy, but it is very tasty.

After we enjoyed that hearty treat,  Rachel, Chris and I piled into her car and headed to the range.  We brought along three pistols. One that Chris is partial to, a newer .38 revolver that Chris bought with me in mind, and my trusty, old Ruger .22 revolver.  I have not shot much for years, and not at all since I dislocated my shoulder two years ago. I was a little worried that I would be unable to balance the gun properly. 

Chris showed his normal excellent marksmanship and Rachel did very well with all three guns.

I tried the .38 and found I was accurate enough to be a credible threat with it if the need arose, but I wan't getting the tight grouping I'd like. The gun is loud and felt unfamiliar and strange to me. Then I loaded my good ol' Ruger and found that I have not lost my touch. With a little practice I think I could tighten up my game, but I was able to get in the circle with every shot. This was pleasing.

We spent the better part of an hour there, taking turns, trading guns, poking holes in the paper. It was fun, and good to know I could still handle my weapon of choice.  

A late lunch and a pretty drive home, just in time to do chores and enjoy a peaceful evening at the farmlette.  Oh, shoot, that was a nice day.  

And then there were six...

Five of this years crop of kids have gone off to nice, new homes. The herd of little, white, dancing goats is dwindling.  It has been a pleasure to watch them grow and bounce, explore and mature.  In two months they have gone from being the size of long-legged kittens to weighing 40 pounds or more, and they are all sleek and healthy. I love this picture of Spirit with one of her kids, resting in the shade for a mid-morning nap. They look so contented.

The flower gardens are coming along nicely this year. At least, where the naughty escapee rabbits leave things alone, they are.

The bird houses have had regular visits from blue birds, but no one has chosen to nest. We do have a nice family of tree swallows in one house, though. I am hoping a blue bird couple will choose to raise a brood here before the season is over.

Thelma and Louise, the piglets, have tripled in size during the month they have been here.  They drink up all the excess goat milk, with great gusto.  They've been very entertaining so far, wallowing in their mud hole, lounging in the shade, racing through the tall grass in their paddock and

rooting around in their hay-filled hut with deeply contented grunts.

Rachel and I have been quite active at work lately, with a wide variety of lovely and sweet dogs, cats, and their people, coming in.  This is the busy season for groomers, and we are grateful.

These cute ram lambs were born at Marion's farm in May, and will be coming to live here in July sometime.  I can hardly wait! 

Spring is unfolding at Fairwinds, with life growing and flowing all around us. It is all good.

There be dragons....

This post was delayed because my computer has been acting up. Chris worked on it for me and it's doing better. I thought some of you might be interested to know that dragons do exist. At least, they do in Maine.

One of the big crops harvested each year in Maine are low bush blueberries.  They grow wild here, often on vast, rocky spans called, "blueberry barrens."  These berry fields are lovely. In the spring they are the softest green, and when the berries are ripe the entire stretch will have a blue haze.  When autumn comes, the low shrubs turn crimson.

To ensure a good harvest, blueberry farmers burn the fields every two years. Native Americans were probably the first to practice this. Fire kills weeds, fungus and harmful insects, yet the hardy plants are able to spring back and produce fruit. Sometimes the fields are burned in the fall, sometimes in the spring.  This spring the distant areas around us have glowed with fire, and the air has had a smokey tinge.  We can hear a rumbling and roaring in the distance, and we know the dragons are at work.

Flames dance behind the trees that line the barrens.

Sooty tractors pull the apparatus that breathes fire. The earth vibrates, seeming to tremble before its advance.  Charred earth is left behind.

Behind the burn there will be renewal and growth. And sweet little berries will spring from the dragons breath.