Curwen Press Miscellany and me

Curwen Press... have you ever heard of it?

Last week I spent a few days on a road trip with my dearly beloved. Because there are many miles involved, we change the view by stopping at an occasional antique store.

That's where I discovered Curwen Press.

In a stifling second-floor room of a small town antique store, I found this.


I flipped through it and loved the few pages I saw.




It wasn't until I got home that I saw this...


... and decided that before I started cannibalizing the book for art to frame, I should do a little research.

Surprise! Curwen Press has a fascinating history, and I hold a rare piece of that history in my hands. Not to worry... I've changed my plans for cutting it up.

Don't let anyone ever tell you that shopping is a waste of time. I find it to be very enlightening!

... for the Lord seeth not as man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart. I Samuel 16:7

Giving gifts

It's funny... the little things that cradle big emotions.

A small driveway pebble, chosen because it was available, given with the words, "Remember me, Grampa"

A gift bag, decorated with figures whose arms and legs poke straight out of their heads...

A small, Honeysuckle vine that grows with fierce vigor, flowers from early spring till the winter snow flies, given as a tribute...


An Evening Primrose that produces brilliant blossoms... which by evening wilt to a salmon colored clump. A memorial gift...


The pebble has traveled thousands of miles with Grampa. He gets a little misty when he handles it.

Can't remember what gift was in the decorated bag, but the bag hangs in the work room, holding flower petals.

Honeysuckle vine = "bonds of love" in the language of flowers. I remember that whenever I look at that vine.

Evening primrose = "inconstancy, changeable"... and so it is in days, weeks and passing years.

Don't just throw money at father's day (or any occasion!) and call it good. Find a stone. Give a part of yourself. It lasts so much longer than a tie.

My little children, let us not love in word, neither in tongue; but in deed and in truth. I John 3:18

The good... and the bad

The lavender plant in my front yard is flourishing since my cleaning session a couple of days ago. It is covered with fresh buds - which is good news, because at the precise moment of ripe-but-not-quite-open, I will harvest them for our family favorite, Lavender Lemonade.

The first year I made this, I was sure the grandkids would all refuse a beverage as unfamiliar as lavender lemonade. I was so wrong. It was a hit with all who tasted. Lavender lemonade joined the list of must-serves, right next to the black bean salsa.

I've decided to share the recipe. Just make sure that your lavender buds are edible - that is, pesticide free! (note: the ratio for substituting fresh for dry - 3 to 1)


The beautiful glasses and the garnishes are nice... but optional.

The bad?

I have poison ivy. Buried in those dead, dry, autumn leaves somewhere I brushed against the wicked menace. It's not too bad. (Praise God) I will survive. But thank you for gasping.

Wherefore doth a living man complain for the punishment of his sins? Let us search and try our ways, and turn again to the Lord. Lamentations 3:39,40

Dried roses

There is a little rose bush in my yard that produces an abundance of these...


So, when I learned that flowers can be dried in the microwave, these little beauties were my first (and most available) choice for experimentation.

I found the instructions here. Equipment required (beside the microwave and flowers)? Two microwave safe plates and paper towels.


Lessons learned:

- When they say "dry, not crisp" - listen.
- A flattened, dried rose blossom has its place, but I prefer the individual petals.
- A glass plate is a good weight.
- Don't use your best flowers the first time. Experiment with "seconds"!

The color in the petals stayed fairly true to the fresh blossom. Can't wait to try this again.

For the Lord is good; his mercy is everlasting; and his truth endureth to all generations. Psalm 100:5

The lavender plant

When life moves too quickly, this blogspot gets neglected. Details disappear into the blur of "hurry!"... soon forgotten, because they were never recorded. The blur continues, but I will not let it swallow all the moments of today.

Even though I have never enjoyed gardening, there are a few plants in the yard that I love. One is my lavender plant. I had reduced many a lavender to straw before this specimen came home with me. I plopped it into the last place in the yard that seemed to fit the description on the tag. In view of its age... the tag was right.

During the winter, leaves and debris smooshed (all right... so how would you spell it?) their way in, around and through the branches of the plant, so this afternoon I cleaned it out.


Unfortunately, to remove all of the mess, I had to really push that plant around. The thick woody stems were fine, but many tender leaves and branches were bruised in the process. I was enveloped in the sweet aroma of lavender.

I couldn't help but make the spiritual comparison. Do my roots go deep, or is my growth just under the surface, weak and feeble? Am I strong enough to survive a spring cleaning by the "Master Gardener"? When I am bruised or broken is the immediate response a sweet smelling savor?

Despite the dirty dirt, sitting in that lavender scented cloud was good for me, body and soul.


Be ye therefore followers of God, as dear children; and walk in love, as Christ also hath loved us, and hath given himself for us an offering and a sacrifice to God for a sweetsmelling savor. Ephesians 5:1,2

President Lincoln and the war

We moved back in time this weekend. It was hot, slow, and (mostly) unplugged.

It started with the unexpected invitation to ride the Little River Railroad steam train. The destination was a nearby village. President Lincoln was giving a speech on the library steps and the train would carry him and his party back to our town.

I see "President Lincoln" every week at church, so I haven't made the effort to attend any of his events to see him in his presidential finery. I also have never been an observer at a war reenactment, or heard explanations about the rules of war in the 1860's.

Shame on me.

True to life as it was then - a baby, loving the breeze in the train window... tired, hot, big sister holding him on her lap.


The politicians and Lincoln family on the library steps. Speeches and then the short walk to the train to their private coach. (I wonder... did Abe long to hang his head out the window to catch a breeze?)


The reenactors battlefield was small, but we got the idea. When the line of "soldiers" from the south marched past me, I saw a young teen boy in the ranks. It was a heart wrenching moment, realizing, for many mothers that was life.

Shots in the air. Horses darting in and out. Sabers flashing. The boom of cannons. We knew what we would see when the smoke cleared...


imagine the fear of real waiting.

The 21st century family of President Lincoln invited us to join them. Thank you! We had a great time!

Wherefore seeing we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith... Hebrews 12:1,2

Long ago and far away...

LONG AGO - In the years when small children inhabited the rooms of this house, I spent numberless hours in basements, living rooms, and waiting rooms of various piano teachers. I heard scales, sotto voce counting turn into foot tapping turn into habit, beginnings, endings and middles of songs over and over again.

Once... just once... when my youngest daughter was playing her part of a piano duet during her lesson, I heard the teacher (a concert pianist named Dzidra) join her on the piano, playing the other part of the duet for approximately 5 measures. It was 5 measures of Heaven! She was sooo good. Then, as abruptly as it started, it stopped. There I was, soaring through the heights of delight, only to be plopped back into the reality of the waiting room. I wanted to yell "Encore! Encore!" But it was over. Though I waited... and longed for it... it never happened again.

FAR AWAY - A new family came through the doors of our church. There were brothers and sisters enough for every Sunday school class. They were a wonderful family - loving God and each other, happy with life. We loved getting to know them.

But... for one reason or another, they moved away from us to a church closer to their home. Years passed. We saw them occasionally, amazed at how many new faces were added to the family, and always in awe of what nice people they all were.

HERE BESIDE ME - A new new family came to our church. There are brothers and sisters enough for almost every Sunday school class. They are a wonderful family - loving God and each other, happy with life. We love knowing them.

HERE AT LAST - Friday night all the parts came together. Family 1 has a daughter who teaches piano. Among her many students are four of the kids from Family 2.

We were invited to the end of the year recital in a beautiful old church.


The kids did a great job. The hours of practice were apparent. We heard everything from Jesus Loves Me to the Flight of the Bumble Bee!

And my treat? The teacher finished the program with a wonderful duet with her oldest brother. Sometimes... deep longings are finally satisfied.


My soul waiteth for the Lord more than they that watch for the morning: I say, more than they that watch for the morning. Psalm 130:6

Indiana shines

I went back to Hoosierland on Tuesday to watch an end of the school year play. It was an absolute delight! The teacher did an excellent job teaching these 5th-6th graders comedic timing. It was sooooo engaging I forgot to take photos until they all took their bows.

The following afternoon I visited The OP Shop. The factory (in the back) is where they have been making opalescent glass since 1888. While in the workroom, I spotted a window that was a work of art... stained glass type, but waaaay beyond stained glass.

After admiring the window, I discovered a rack of 8"x10"x1" slabs of glass (they have a name that I can't remember) for sale. Seconds. (Yay!) My price range. (Double yay!) I bought 2 for my flower beds.

I thought I wanted color, so I picked a deep green with some rust colored surface swirls. Then I spotted the white one. Oooo... love at first sight. I touched a few other colors, but in the end, the white and green came home with me.

The pictures are untouched except for cropping and rotating, and still this glass glows.

In the fading afternoon sun...



... or tucked in the shade garden...



...they show their good breeding.

Best of all? I can't kill them!

But we all, with open face beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord. II Corinthians 3:18