It is very obvious that one of my New Year's resolutions should be

KEEP UP WITH THE BLOG! 

 Pretty embarrassing to say the least. I would like to spare you of one of those annual 3-page Christmas letters.  However, I may be guilty of that in order to put 2011 in retrospect -- just the highlights
(with my middle-aged short-term memory issues, I'm sure I'll forget some).  Let's see,
 1) Husband sold his business 

2) Husband started a new job
3) I moved my business to a new location
4) We moved to a different home
5) I opened a retail shop/showroom.
6) I closed the retail shop/showroom (details to follow)
7) I'm still looking for things that are buried in packed boxes
. . Let me insert here that 1-4 happened within one month. CRAZY.

Yes, this past summer marked a new venture for Home Sweet Homespuns! We moved! Yep, we are now located in a brand new space, a completely-renovated century building from the late 1800's. We are in 100% full production for our web business and daily production.

(Before move)

Moving a business was not an easy task.  We weren't sure if my 4x8 work station would even fit in the door. 

Will it fit? 

Muscle power from four men, . . . 

Sitting in place, minus the counter top

Yeah, they did it!!

Mom getting the first look at the new shop.  I think she's pleased.

We are told that our building was built in the late 1800's and was originally a parsonage. I would love to dig deeper into the history of the building! It holds much charm with the original pine floors in the two rooms that we planned to use as our showroom. Our workshop held some challenges with our huge cutting table strategically placed between what we have been told are two old hitching posts. The room faces the east, so the morning sun pours in through the windows and brightens the entire space.

Here's an excerpt of my journal on the first day: Today was the first full day of production. I was quite pleased with the arrangment of the sewing machines, cutting table, ironing board and fabric cupboard all in close proximity to one another. Track lighting above the machines added extra brightness for cloudy days. Ready, set, go! Ready, set, . . . oops, there goes the foot pedal sliding away on the new laminate floor! Re-position, . . . ready, set, . . . move back to adjust the foot pedal again, and there goes my chair slowly but surely rolling sideways towards the back wall! The old floors have a tad bit of a slant to them. . . needless to say, at the end of the day the machines were re-positioned so I would roll towards them instead of drifting slowly away every time I moved. The foot pedals are finding new spots securely wedged against a table leg or sitting on non-grip rubber. At the end of the day, we accomplished a decent amount of jobs and worked out a few kinks. All in a days' work. 

 Yes, downsizing one's home, which for years has housed a business in its lower ranks, was quite a challenge to our business operation.  Thankfully, the summer months are a little slower for our web-based business, so we were able to make the move, get set up, and start operations in a new location within a matter of days. Although it was a wonderful space, and one where we could actually have a curtain showroom and primitive mercantile, we soon discovered it was not practical to stretch our focus in two directions.

 With the busy holiday season fast approaching, we decided to concentrate on what we do best, and that is focusing on our curtain business via the web. A little disappointing, but it was the right thing to do. Although a store had always been a dream, our main operations center and office is functioning quite well.  Customers can still drop in or schedule an appointment to discuss their custom job.

 I would say 2011 was a CHALLENGING year. I'm not particularly fond of it, although it stretched me in ways that hopefully made me a better person. On a personal level, 2012 brings the anticipation of our 7th grandchild due on St. Patrick's Day. On the business side, we're always looking for ways to improve.  We have already made some changes in our product line, adding some new items that we hope you will like such as: Homespun throws and coverlets in our Bedding line, and more selections in our Kitchen line. More additions will be coming as we progress throughout the year. As always, look for our ads in Country Sampler Magazine. Each issue features one or more featured products. Our new Winter Product Brochure is now printed and available for mailing. You can also LIKE US on Facebook to keep up to date with the latest announcements. Here's to a great 2012! Bring it on.

Where the Pills Go

Mom got a kick out of this!

Where the Pills Go

 

A row of bottles on my shelf

Caused me to analyze myself.

One yellow pill I have to pop

Goes to my heart so it won't stop.

A little white one that I take

Goes to my hands so they won't shake

The blue one that I use a lot

Tells me I'm happy when I'm not.

The purple pill goes to my brain

And tells me that I have no pain.

The capsule tells me not to wheeze

or cough or sneeze.

The red one, smallest of them all,

Goes to my head so I won't fall.

Such an array of brilliant pills,

Helping cure all kinds of ills.

But what I'd really like to know

Is what tells each pill where to go!

                                 ~ Etta Cisco

The Girls from Home Sweet Homespuns

I thought you might want to see the girls from Home Sweet Homespuns!  Here we are after enjoying a year-end dinner and celebration of another great year of on-line entrepreneurship.  Every one of these ladies is a talented artist in her own realm, besides being a great seamstress and valuable member of our team.

Front Row:  Debbie, Lisa

Middle Row:  Carol, Jan, Donna (me), Pam

Back Row: Cindy, Pat

Here's looking to another great year in 2011! 

Teaching Tuck and Ty

I have some amazing friends in Denver, Colorado.  They have an amazing daughter, Tricia Lott Williford.  On December 23, 2010, their lives forever changed.  Please follow her story as she begins a journey of her new normal.


Teaching Tuck and Ty

Out of Steam

I am a seamstress. The most important piece of equipment in my workshop is my sewing machine . . . or rather all four of them. The second most important piece is my Rowenta Pressure Iron and Steamer. I cannot stress how important my Rowenta is to my daily production. It is in "ready mode" from early morning until the shop lights go out in the evening.



NOTHING aggravates me more than being nearly finished with a project when I start hearing that dreaded sound. . . that waning sound . . . the steady burst of hot steam fizzling into a weak phfffftt.

Today I found myself yelling at my iron. "I JUST FILLED YOU UP YESTERDAY!!!" (Understand that a tank of water should last two full days, if not longer. Yesterday was a short work day, and it wasn't even noon when I started hearing the phffftt.)

"I PAID A LOT OF MONEY FOR YOU!! WHY CAN'T YOU WORK LIKE YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO WORK?!

So why all the fuss? First of all, it changes my plan. My work stops. It takes time for the iron to cool so I can unscrew the cap, release the pressure, then refill the reservoir. Then there is more waiting until the water heats up enough to produce that glorious steam.

For a period of time, the vessel is unusable.

The need to refill the tank on a daily basis is a definite indication of a problem, but there are other signs that should not be ignored.  I have two Rowenta's, and I know the warnings when something is amiss.  Inside the cap is a small green gasket.  It is such a tiny but important member of this iron.  When the gasket is new and working properly, the steam is stored until ready for use.  It can be directly exactly as the operator intends, providing the right burst when, where, and how it is needed to perfect the job at hand. Over time, the gasket becomes worn.  The steam starts to escape, starting out slowly and hardly noticeable until that unmistakable HISS. . . . SPIT. . . . SWOOSH! . . . . and the steam explodes from the vessel with an uncontrollable burst!  Wasted.  Unusable equipment in need of repair.

This morning, in the midst of my ranting, I thought how much I am like my Rowenta iron.  I was created for a purpose.  I can hear my Heavenly Father say, "I paid a high price for you."

In my body there is little member, this tongue of mine.  When it is controlled, my words are safely stored and ready for the Master's use. . . ready to be directed where, when, and how they are needed.  Like silver boxes storing words of encouragement, kindness, and love. 

When this tongue is controlled, the Scriptures say it is powerful enough to steer an ocean liner.  When uncontrolled, it can burn down an entire forest with one spark! (James 3).  Such a small member.  Such power it holds.

How I dread those times when my spirit is worn and the phffftt begins! 

 It is almost unnoticeable at first.  Hissing out discontentment, spitting out criticism, spewing out ugliness. As soon as I am filled, I prematurely become empty and unusable.   Without intervention . . .without the proverbial trip to the Master's Fix-It Shop for restoration, I may very well blow a gasket!

Psalm 19:14

Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, be acceptable in thy sight, O LORD, my strength, and my redeemer

What Do You Do During an Ohio Snowstorm?

Go to Amish country, of course!

Six-eight inches of snow can't stop a girl on a mission when there's fabric involved! This was the day I was scheduled to meet my MODA fabric rep at the Fabric Show Reunion in Holmes County - the heart of Ohio's Amish country and an hour's drive away. We had some important business to conduct, mainly locking in future orders before a planned price increase. The morning brought one heavy snow squall after another. It was a dice game between my common sense and my dare devil side. I doubted that the lake effect snow we were getting would be reaching that far south, and a quick phone call confirmed just that. That's all I needed to know.

A phone call to my best friend to get her boots on and we quickly headed south. Well, that is after three attempts to get out of my driveway and at least ten attempts to drive up hers. The highways were in good shape, so I felt confident in venturing off on the "back roads" into Berlin. Everything was sparkly clean and white under a freshly-fallen layer of snow. The countryside was calm and peaceful except for an occasional group of sledders dotting a hillside. My friend, Cindy, is in love with old barns and she was furiously snapping photos with her Droid phone. She swears I was speeding around the curves and up and down the hills (Not!) while I accused her of yelling "STOP!" at least every 500 feet so she could take a photo. We are still laughing at the number of barns that mysteriously appear crooked in her photos!

With only a few miles of drifting snow across the county roads, the drive was uneventful and pleasant. Our trip was both therapeutic and profitable. The needed business was accomplished with a few extra bones thrown in, especially the chance meeting of Mr. Zinck. (We will be using Zinck's as a supplier in the coming days).

Business done. Supper at Boyd's-Wurtham Diner. Carry out dinners to take home to our husbands. A day with my best friend. It doesn't get much better than that.

(Note the sign: Cindy's Diner)

Pondering The Way Things Used To Be

Several things have happened recently that have set my mind to pondering. Pondering isn't something that I typically have time to do. After all, my days are spent juggling many balls which usually creates some serious mental overload. It started at dinner with friends a few days ago. One of the dads was being teased over his bumbling of text messaging acronyms and abbreviations. Not able to dicifer messages from him, his teenage daughter had told him, "Dad, just do it the old-fashioned way." We had a good laugh at his expense and compared the means of instant communication between kids today versus how we actually had to wait until the next school day to share the latest and greatest news. I continued my pondering as I attended the funeral today of an older cousin. Ed died at the ripe old age of 92. In my mind, he will forever be a quiet, middle-aged man with a round belly, semi-balding head, and a ready smile. As often happens during a funeral service and wake, we reminisced, shared stories, and viewed a collage of old photos. A flood of memories flowed of childhood days and a lump grew in my throat. I wished I could talk to my dad or have an "eating contest' with my Grandma Hughes. I used to trick her like that to get her to eat. Thinking back, I'm not sure who was tricking whom. (After all, my nickname then was Skinny Minnie). Adding to my pondering is the ever-present awareness of the battle that a close friend is fighting with cancer. I will share more about that later.


I recently had some miscommunication with some of my adult children. Mind you, our family has every means of communication available - cell phones, Blackberries, I-Phones, laptop computers, pc's, telephones. . . Communication should be easy, right? Not always. Let me just say that I love having an information highway at my fingertips. I love having an online store that is open 24/7 to the world. I am a self-confessed Facebook junkie. Nevertheless, having the objects of communication can't guarantee that we properly convey our thoughts, our intentions, our heart. Our miscommunication caused some hurt feelings. I found myself thinking about the way life used to be.

Remember the rotary dial telephone? Sometimes dialing the number took longer than the conversation itself! Phone numbers were only seven digits, and you remembered the number by Tyler 6 (896) or Midlake 4 (644), etc. The digit *1* was added to long distance numbers. There were extra charges for long distance calls, so those were limited. We got busy signals instead of voicemail. Today we have the convenience of cordless land line phones with numbers programmed into speed dial. We have unlimited long distance calling. The cumbersome *car phone* that plugged into the cigarette lighter and was used only for emergencies is long gone. Cell phones are portable computers and fit in our pockets.

Back in the olde days, we used to write letters that were sent via snail mail. I had pen pals, and Mom wrote letters to my aunts who lived out of state. We usually got several letters each week, and we all took turns reading them to hear the latest news. Sometimes there was no news but just a short note that said nothing but everything. Today we rely on email. Email has made letter writing obsolete. We can send a message across the world and receive a reply in a matter of seconds. We use email for everything from personal to business to merchandising to advertising to whatever. It is instant communication, although one-sided until our Inbox says otherwise. With Blackberry phones and I-Phones, our inbox goes everywhere we go. Instead of waiting for the mailman to deliver mail six times per week, we receive mail 24/7 with a ding, a chirp, or a buzz.

Then there is texting. Texting could pretty much replace emailing as it usually demands an instant response. Cell phones with texting capabilities are more common than a #2 pencil, and kids have their own special texting language. I still laugh whenI see a post on Facebook that says something to the effect of "Going to bed. Text it." I still haven't figured out who it is and how texts are sent while sleeping. In the olde days, we wrote notes and prayed that they didn't fall into the wrong hands. Of course we had our share of codes: BOLA, RMA, AFA, etc. (Just take a look in any of my high school yearbooks).

Socializing used to be done on the playground, in the lunchroom, on the ball field, in after school clubs, dances, church activities, neighborhoods, Scouts, etc. We could have a fight one day, sleep on it, and be best friends again the next day. Our friends were just that, and nothing made a kid happier than having a good, true friend. Today's friends are part of an army of names and thumbnail photos on a Facebook or MySpace page. We can categorize them, hide them, eavesdrop on them, private message them, chat with them, block them, defriend them, and sadly we can forget we are even friends with them. We can know what they do on a daily basis without ever talking to them just by reading their *wall*. And we call it communication.

So, why do I wish life could be as it used to be? I miss the simplicity. I miss hearing Mom say, "We have company!" and seeing a familiar car in the driveway. I miss hopping in the car and going to visit relatives. Depending on the geographical location, we might have gone down (to West Virginia), up (to Pennsylvania), in (to Akron) out (to Atwater), or over (to anyplace in between). N0 one made an appointment, no one scheduled a visit. It was just the way life was. I miss the respect for one another that is lacking in so many families. I hate how we are so stressed and pressed and distracted by life and obligations. I hate how our time with family is constantly interrupted by our incessant desire to check our emails, voicemails, or Facebook updates. I hate how we use text messages and emails to say things that we would never say face to face. I hate that I feel frustrated when my scheduled life gets interrupted. I hate how we guard our lives with high thick walls. I hate the fact that I am guilty of all those things.

Funerals, along with serious illness, tend to put things into perspective. Our close friend, Jake, (who is our son's father-in-law) recently received bad news from his doctor. Jake spent four weeks in the hospital and just recently came home under the care of his family and visiting nurses. Fathers' Day was very special for him that he was able to sit outside his home with his beloved family. We rejoiced that Jake was with us, that he is fighting, that his spirit isn't broken. It was different than other outings. There were no rambunctious corn hole games. Conversations were more quiet, almost reverant. It was hard to mask the incredible sadness that we all felt. Later as Jake had settled in for the night, we said our goodbyes for the evening. It has become very easy to say "I love you." I gave Jake a hug, and he started telling me how proud he was of my son and how much he loved and appreciated him. He wept, and I felt like my heart would burst. I wanted so badly for life to be the way it used to be, before so many changes of the past year and now cancer. Jake will continue to fight, and those who love him will support him in the fight. He communicates the love of his Savior and his love for his family. Just like waiting for the old rotary dial phone to connect to a loved one or handwriting a letter, he intentionally communicates with those he loves. Time together is precious and everyone seems to have a little more focus on one another and less focus on themselves.

Life will never be exactly as it used to be for any of us. We trust our lives to the One who holds our tomorrows. I pray that when my children and grandchildren look back at how life used to be, their memories will bring a smile. I pray that regrets will be few and that our family clearly and intentionally loved and bore one another's burdens, who patiently endured each others' shortcomings, who nurtured and encouraged, who rejoiced together, who had fun just being together maybe saying nothing but sharing everything.