Who inspires you?

Just a few words. . . .

Have you ever wondered about the impact of just a few words?

I'd just met her, and we didn't chat for very long.  We could have, 'cause I think we'd have a lot in common.  But I'd been away from home for nearly 36 hours and was longing to head back to my messy, "stuft," comfy house where my loved ones had survived without me.  (I think they did okay.  They ate - I think - and, I hadn't gotten any texts from irked siblings rattling off what the other one had done to them.  So I guess they did okay.) 

So, in our brief "life's experience" with each other, we talked about buttons.  And yard sales.  And blogging.  And some other things that I can't remember anymore because my mind was wandering north to my stuft home. 

Turns out, she's been blogging - with a passion - for a year or so now.  She's been featured on tatertots and jello.  And on Under the Table and Dreaming.  And she's listed in the DIY Showoff Collection of Inspiring Blogs.  Whew.  She's a real blogger. . . .


Then she mentioned to me how she's been featured on these blogs, just because someone took a peek at her blog.  And that, when they saw her blog, they saw something they thought was clever.  And - how she posts a lot.  Cool.

Sooo. . . here's my clever thing.  Call it a primitive hanging flower basket. 

Now, some folks might call it a feed bag.  You know, the kind for horses.  I found it on my way back home after being gone for 36 hours, 'cause I just had to stop at the consignment shop that you can see from the interstate.  It had been 36 long hours away from vintage.  Away from antique.  Away from second hand.  I needed a little fix before crossing my messy threshold.  And this sweet, vintage, primitive "food dish" for the equine crowd jumped out at me. 

Hmmm, it must have possibilities, I thought.  I just didn't know what.  But I knew it was meant to come home with me, what with my sweet daughter being "horse crazy" and all. . . .

And you know what?  As I walked across the doorstep of my familiar, comfy house, my feed bag magically turned into a flower basket. 

So. . . point is, she just said a few words.  And it got me thinking that I would share my flower basket idea.  And it got me thinking how fun blogging is.  And she inspired me. . . not about anything really big in life, but about something fun. 

Thanks, new friend. 

BTW, her name is Karie.  Check out her blog.  It's on my link list. . . .

                       Whadaya think?  Will there be a hot new trend in feed bag flower baskets? 

And. . . who inspires you? 

• In the big things
• In the not-so-big things
• In the fun things
• Let me know. . .

Doctor revolutionizes back surgery to get teen back on her feet - ksl.com

This article is from KSL.com and is about Sarah's orthopedist who has done all of her surgeries for scoliosis and will be doing her spinal fusion surgery this August 1st.  He's the best. . . we love our Dr. Smith!

Doctor revolutionizes back surgery to get teen back on her feet - ksl.com

My sweet father-in-law turns 82. . .

In 1929 the stock market crashed and started the Great Depression.  The Museum of Modern Art, the Academy Awards, Popeye, and 7-up all made their debut.  Herbert Hoover was inaugurated U.S. president, succeeding Calvin Coolidge.  Skirts rose to just below the knee, allowing flashes of leg to be seen when young men were fortunate.  Anne Frank, Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, Audrey Hepburn, and Martin Luther King, Jr. were born.  As was my father-in-law. . . Lee Taylor Cox, born May 1st, 1929, at 942 N. University Avenue in Provo, Utah.

I wouldn't meet him until many years later, to be precise it was in June 1988, when he was a spry 59 and I had recently turned 30.  His hair was a little darker then, and I was much shyer around him then than I am now.  I was nervous about meeting him.  There was a lot of pressure that day to make a good impression, as my dear sweetheart of only a few weeks would introduce me to him as his fiancee.

The meeting went well. . . Fred's parents were delighted, if not relieved, that he had finally found someone to marry.  (I do hope they were happy that it was me. . . but, after waiting 34
l-o-n-g years for their firstborn to find a wife I could have been a bag lady and I think they still would have rejoiced. . . . ) 

I asked Dad if he would please put
my name on this cabinet in the will.
His response. . . "It comes with
the house."  Thank goodness Fred
and I have our names on the house!

A bunch of years have gone by, our kids now range from 21 to 13, and I guess I must have passed muster 'cause he still smiles at me when I come to visit.  My own dear father passed away 15 years ago, and, though I miss him tremendously and no one could ever take his place, my husband's father has now become "Dad."  And I love that about him.  He watches over me and comforts me when I need a father's love. 

And. . . we have something very special in common.  We love junk.  And old stuff.  And old family stuff.  We rejoice over both family heirlooms and over piles of "stuff-that-might-be-useful-someday."  We see treasure where the rest of the family sees trash.   





These grave markers have decorated the outside of Dad's house
for years.  They belong to his great grandmother
and a few more Taylor ancestors. Aren't they great?
(Hopefully they come with the house too. . . .)

 

Dad's house is filled with second-hand treasure everywhere you look!  Some of it refined, but most of it on the "shabby," chippy, rusty side of things.  Just how I like it.  Old windows. . . chippy stools. . . industrial cabinets. . . "ancient" books. . . letters and cards from very long ago sent from his father to his mother, all carefully preserved but a little too private to include here. . . .

Have you ever heard of Cox Honey?  Dad's great-uncle Delaun Mills Cox started the bee business in Orderville, Utah in 1880.  According to www.coxshoney.com, "he produced honey to supply about the only sweet obtainable for his family and that small community."  Later he took the family to Shelley, Idaho and Cox Honey Farms' honey became well known for their delicious Pure Clover Honey and Delicious Creamed Honey.  While not the same Cox Honey, Dad's dad, Orville Stanley Cox of Provo produced his own Cox Honey, distributed in the boxes shown below.  We have a few around our house, and Dad tells me there are scores - if not hundreds - more, all to become mine someday for me to sell something in! 

So, happy birthday my dear dad, my junkin' friend,

my second-hand stuff loving friend, 

my partner in harboring the rusty/chippy/shabby stuff

that none of the rest of the family seems to see much use for. 

It's ever so sweet to have a soul mate in the family.  Love you so much. . . .