Newly Edited Something New on the Horizon

I know you are probably glad this day has arrived. My foot is as fine as it's going to get this side of the boot, so it's time to start the next blog, which is going to be entitled, "Meditations from Brookberry Farm." I just saw Beverly Hamel, the author of the book on Bethania I was telling you about in an earlier blog. She told me to just start writing.

She didn't stop there. We're having lunch together on Wednesday and she has already challenged me to write a page a day, 12 pt., double-spaced, 500 words/page. (Gail, I know you are jumping up and down with joy.) I see the book in my head. I see the illustrations, the format and the chapters; I even seen all the print. I just can't read the words. I have not found my voice.

It's Monday, and I am editing this blog from yesterday because I left out the most fun part of my day. We encountered Beverly at a "Dinner with the Artists" at Bethania Mill that Bo had invited us to. Imagine a huge, beautiful wooden old mill-like structure, close to the road with old wooden porches; the main part of the building is painted a pale, antique buttercream, with "Bethania Mill" painted in LARGE black saloon-type script. (There's probably more, but that's all I recall.) Pan over to the porch on the right and you'll see a small bluegrass band, which automatically makes the atmosphere a festive one. There is a nip in the air and the leaves have finally started to display the beginnings of their Mercurochrome shades of red, orange, green and yellow. I couldn't tell you a single song the band was playing, but before I knew it, I was tapping my good foot to the music. Steamy vegetable soup was the fare of the day, along with salad, a multiple array of cheeses and desserts, and a variety of one's beverage of choice. Small cafe tables and chairs set up in front of the band offered anyone who wanted a chance to foot-tap while seated.

The purpose of the function was to promote some of the local artists and their work. Their artwork was set up a little ways (as we say in the south) down the road from the mill, but definitely within walking distance, in a small quaint chapel called Alpha Chapel, which was built by the Moravians back in 1894. (Remember...Alpha means "First/beginning.") I am so looking forward to having two totally functional feet again, so I can walk around the town and pinpoint other structures and their uses.

Last night started a 2 week silent auction that ends with another event in the area. Not quite sure what what it is, but I will find out and let you know. There was quite a selection of artwork hanging in the chapel, with Bo's photograph's on canvas standing out amongst the oils and pastels. His mom, whom I love, and other family members and friends they had invited, stood in little clusters catching up since they'd last seen each other, and welcoming the newcomers with a warmth that would make you cry. I actually stood off a little at one point, and used my mind's eye to capture the moment, so I could pull it up at will and replay it when I want to feel all warm and cozy inside. I also took a moment to thank God that I could be a small part of such a wonderful, kind, community of talented people.

Every time Randy and I go to anything like this, we walk away loving the people more and more. We met John and Kathleen from California, and were enthralled with their stories, but more importantly, we were impressed with what they were both accomplishing in their lives. We have met more people here who are "doers," rather than "observers of the doers." I know that I am being called down from the observation tower, and into the halls of participation. Some days I run; other days I stop in fear. I'm at the threshold now and want to take my hands from the sides of the door frame and see what's on the other side.

Word for the blog for the day: "conundrum" (ke nun drem)n. 2. A problem admitting of no satisfactory solution. Sentence: She was not in a conundrum, because all she had to do was start writing. Wish me well.