Welcome to the Front Porch….glad you stopped by and hope you
enjoy my little musings for today!
Another big family event and yep, here am I…standing in my
little country kitchen, looking at a mount of dishes that rise up around
me. I have a reputation for ‘dirtying
every dish in the house’ when I cook. It
must be true, it has to be true, for the sky high pile of dirty dishes that I
am surrounded by bear witness to this.
Yep.
Now I love dishes! I
have more dishes than a woman has a right to!
I have red dishes, white dishes, blue dishes, a mixture and hodgepodge
of dishes for everyday, Christmas dishes, white china with a real silver
etching around the edge that I learned the hard way CANNOT be put in the
microwave! I have some pretty ‘Canton Fair’ china that the Preacher and our
four kids picked out for me on one of our anniversaries when we lived in Lothian,
Maryland. That was many years ago! He made his selection at a well known store
at the time: Lazarus. That store has
long been gone, gobbled up by some conglomerates that do that type of
thing. Those dishes sit, proud and
pretty, in my humble little china closet. They are rarely used as there is only
a place setting for 8; my brood has long passed that magic number. This china selection
has a special place among my dish collection and in my heart.
This beautiful set of dishes was handpicked by the Preacher
and our four little ones. Now this in of
itself is a feat. The Preacher does not like to shop! He detests it! If he needs something, even clothes, most of
the time I have to pick them out and he will say ‘oh, you know what I like’. Really?
The one exception is suits. He
does relish getting a new suit. He does
not ask for much, but every now and then about once a year he does get a
hankering for a new suit.
So what do dishes and suits have to do with one
another? Nothing, absolutely
nothing. So with that being clarified
and settled, I will get back to the dishes.
I usually do the dishes myself. All by myself. Those who have been in my cozy little kitchen
know it is a one-woman show. Two people
in that tiny area are stepping on one another, bumping into one another and
just annoying one another. So, it is
usually a solo flight. Now to make this
little chore even more interesting; I do NOT have a dishwasher. Well, let me back up. I do have one but it has never worked right
from day one when we moved in here over 8 years ago now. I gave up.
I saw no real reason for me to wash dishes, place them in the dishwasher
and for them to come out yuckier than when they went in. I do not want to
invest in a new one. There always seems
to be something else I prefer to spend the money on. Oh, things like hay and feed for the four
leggers. Plus, we have a very delicate
old septic tank-the old country style-that fills up quickly and once filled
will back up rather quickly and in a not nice way. So, I baby that septic tank along and try to
keep it balanced delicately. Very
delicately.
Anyway, I usually shoo the girls, my girls and
daughter-in-laws out of the kitchen to go visit with the Preacher, play with
the kids, enjoy each other’s company and relax.
My mess, my cleanup. Now the
Preacher does NOT appreciate my love of my dishes. Nope.
I insist on using them 99.99% of the time. Rarely do we do the paper plate thing.
Although there are some very nice paper plates, I feel if I have all these nice
plates, have the most important people in my life as my guests, why would I NOT
use my treasured dishes for them to eat on.
I am not one to just keep things as trophies. If I’ve got it I want to use it. If I don’t need it I will try to find someone
who does. I like things, especially
dishes but not that much that I place them before people. I never understood why some women would have
some of the most beautiful things and never use them. What are they saving them for? My motto: use them! Make every meal with loved ones special. Bring out the best dishes….eat like royalty,
make memories.
So I start on the dishes.
Depending on what the occasion is, where everyone is, then my next move
will be to find some good inspiring, calming, soothing music. Could be Hillsong, or some instrumental Pandora
station, or easy instrumentals via Dish.
Something that energizes me.
Something that carries me to a place of peace while I am doing dish
after dish after dish.
BTW this is one reason I keep my fingernails short and
sweet. The other reason is the
farm. I am scooping poo, running my
hands over animals to check for bumps, cuts and bruises. I am lifting horsey feet and checking to see
if they need to be picked. I am chasing
unruly little hennies who linger outside of the coop when curfew has been
declared. I mend fences, use countless
bungie and zip ties to shore up and repair something that is continuously falling
apart here on the farm. I use my hands
to garden; I am digging, planting, picking….well nice, pretty nails just won’t
do. Preacher ‘threatens’ me with a spa
day every now and then. I recoil in
anger. What is wrong with those two
words: me and spa? It is not me. Nope.
Now our well meaning
church ladies did give me a facial thing a few years back. I endured it and was rather disappointed
however. I thought with all that rubbing
and pushing my face here and there surely I would look better. Nope, looked in the mirror and it was me.
100% me. Another time they gifted with
me a manicure and pedicure.
Disaster. I put off doing ‘til
the garden was planted and most of the dirty work had been done for a few days
at the farm. I scrubbed those nails and
those toes and thought surely I am presentable enough. But farm dirt can become almost
permanent-unfortunately. My nails passed
inspection. The young lady probed and
poked and trimmed. Then she tried to get
me to pick out polish. Angst! What would I do with pretty pink polish on these
country livin’, country lovin’ hands. I
politely declined. She profusely
insisted so I picked a clear top coat.
She thought I was the most unusual bird she had ever encountered. And I am.
Then the toes. I do
not especially enjoy, no I will restate that-I do not like anyone touching my body
in what I consider an intimate, get to
know me better way (except family and of course the Preacher! Hey, after all we do
have 4 children!). But strangers,
poking, probing, prying….nope. Probably
does somewhat stem from an incident in my childhood…but that skeleton is draped
on his special hanger way back deep in ‘the closet’. He will stay there for now…this is not the
time or place.
Anyway, back to toes.
Funny thing on the farm, no matter how thick the socks and high the
boots, dirt gets in and loves to creep and cling to the toes-especially the toe
nails. So even after a good deep scrub,
that poor little gal seemed aghast at the treasures she unearthed (no pun
intended) from my toenails! She used
some sharp little tool that gave that dirt a run for its money. She brought out those hunks, or so it seemed,
of dirt and proudly showed them to me and promptly wiped them on her little
towel. It seemed to be her mission to
dig and grind until she had caught every offending scrap of dirt. Ugh. I
thought to myself, ‘if I get out of here alive-never again’! Never again.
Soon the ordeal ended for me and her. I am not sure who was the most relieved when I
got up out of that chair!
Anyway, dishes…since my hands are constantly in water or
dirt, sometimes both at the same time, nails and pretty nails at that are not
high on my priority list. So, as I wash
that mountain of dishes, I try to take time and thank God for the dishes He has
blessed me with. I take a trip down
memory lane and remember the occasion on which I acquired those dishes. The red ones. My daughter, Lori, bought me a starter kit
for a Christmas gift several years ago.
I slowly added to that collection and have 20 plates along with some red
serving pieces. I love them. The white ones I bought when I was a Bridal
Consultant (ha…what is wrong with this picture?) at Dillards when we lived in
Beaumont. They were on sale, I had a
nice Dillards discount and so with that being said, bought about 20 plates
along with some additional pieces. White
goes with everything so they fit in rather nice in my little kitchen and go
with any occasion we may be celebrating.
I already told you about the Canton Fair china. The Christmas
dishes.
I love using them and try not to use them on Thanksgiving but sometimes
it seems like I just want to share them even before the Christmas season
begins. The Christmas dishes. Way back before any of these other dishes, came
the Christmas Crew. We lived and pastored
in Virginia. Walgreens had a special. A complete set of 4 place settings of a
Christmas Tree pattern of dishes for less than $5.00. Now I am going back a few years. But, folks this is a great price. I bought 4 or 5 sets….I now have about 25
plates…somehow the cups and saucers have long gone. I do still have the plates and dessert
dishes. Then there are the blue dishes…informal,
don’t break good for outdoor eating…and the everyday collection of this and
that…dishes
So dishes, dishes, dishes.
So necessary and also can be such a nuisance. Especially when washing them. So as I wash, I think good thoughts. I take
it one dish at a time. I begin to recall
and relive the happy occasion they became part of the Gabbard family. I think of the wonderful gatherings of family
and friends we have enjoyed. I thank God
for the bounty of food we usually have.
More than enough. More than enough. When I serve portions, I usually err on the
generous side. I want my family and
guest to have more than enough. My
family ‘fondly’ calls this ‘grannie portions’.
I must admit they are usually generous.
But I am glad to be able to give my guest more than enough.
I figured out why I cut such generous portions. Here comes that childhood thing again. If you have followed my blog you know how my
childhood was…..well a challenge. My dad
was married to ‘the bottle’. She was
everything to him and although he had a very good job, we, his real family, saw
very little of that money. But ‘she’ got
more than enough. Therefore, food was
scarce-because mom just did not have money to buy groceries. Food was portioned out. We always left the table wanting more. Never
enough. I guess always wanting more,
never having more, made me want to provide for anyone who ate off my dishes
would have-more than enough.
Anyway, as I wash those dishes one at a time, I pray and
thank God for the family and friends who gathered in my home. I thank God for the wonderful food. I thank God for loving me and saving me. I ask Him to watch over the loved ones and
friends who have used those forks, sipped water or tea or lemonade (our preferred
drinks). I ask God to grant me the strength
and resources to be able to gather my loved ones again and again. I ask God to help me to be a gracious
hostess. I feel and have for years felt
opening my home to my friends and family is one of my callings, a gift, a
ministry. I want to be faithful. Deep inside lives a ‘Martha’. A Martha who
hustles and bustles to make sure everyone has everything they need. Too often I need to let the ‘Mary’ struggle
out and step back, take a big deep breath, and sit. Sit at His feet.
While I wash those dishes, I am blessed to have a window
right above my kitchen sink. It is
small. But it is a window. I can look out over my front lawn. I have a hummingbird feeder right outside and
every now and then I am blessed to see a little birdie stop by for a refreshing
drink of nectar. I can look across the
lawn, over the road and into my neighbor’s pasture. He has a nice little piece of land. Occasionally, he lets his mare and her little
foal graze in that field. Beautiful. Something magnificent about horses. Magnificent.
So when it is all said and done; life is what we make
it. The drudgery or so what we think of
is as drudgery is what we make of it. The chores we dread, the interruptions,
the challenges all are woven into the fabric of our life.
So until the next mount of dishes…or whatever seemingly
unpleasant task you may be called to do…do it ‘as unto the Lord’..until next
time on the front porch…..may you be blessed in Him!
