A Pretty Blue Bowl and a Hope

As I walked into the town’s second hand shop, I spied it: a gorgeous, robin’s egg blue mixing bowl with an almost “old world” design. It was ancient, had little hairline cracks here and there, and it called to me. This was someone’s grandmother’s bowl, I was sure of it! And it had to be mine. I was in need of more large mixing bowls for proofing my dough for market, and what better place to look than a thrift shop?

I enthusiastically skipped (well, in my mind I did, who wants to wait in a weirdo skipping around the thrift shop?) to the counter, money in hand, and nonchalantly asked the price. “Eight dollars” was the answer. Deflated.

“Eight whole dollars for a used bowl?!” I wanted to shout. “I don’t need your stinking  bowl!” But, no, I politely asked, and they told me “because it is old.” Hmmm.

I took my walk of defeat and replaced it back where it was and left. No more shopping for me. The pangs of guilt and conflicting ideas washed over and through me and I felt like a failure. I couldn’t even buy a bowl for eight dollars? What was wrong with me? I had other things to get in town and didn’t want to live with buyer’s remorse. 

All through the ride around town and stop from Here to There, my mind kept going back to the bowl.

What if I purchased it, used it for baking, and ended up making my money back from market? I could certainly do that! And then, there wouldn’t be any guilt!

I rushed back to the shop, grabbed the bowl like I already owned it, and paid for it confidently.

You know what? That was months ago, and I have made my money back quite a few times over (I sure hope so, it was *only* eight bucks). But, it is so much more to me than that. My blue bowl is my Thankful Bowl. Ever time I use it it has become a reminder from the Lord of all the blessings that I never would have had if His hand was not upon us. The seeds in my garden. My milk cow and sheep, with lambs at their sides. My grateful children and hard working husband. All of our opportunities, our goals, and even our hardships.

I am using that blue bowl this morning: it’s Market Day!

I need it right now too. Life has been, well, Life, and we are facing the usual struggles. Finances need to be put back in order, and after weeks of Mr. Pell being away from home, we don’t have much to show for it. Everything has gone “wrong”, but, that’s farming and that’s faith. 

We are doing all that we know how to walk in His path, and this wonderfully hectic life will settle once again in His time, back to the ebb and flow that we are all so accustomed to.

So come support your local farmer. Come to market and purchase some pies. Invite your neighbors over to share. Come on, three different kinds of tops (Traditional, Streusel, and Lattice), a dozen to choose from.

Five Grain flatbread, Whole Wheat Cranberry and Pecan Cookies (coconut too!), you name it.

The American Salt Rising Bread is just what you need for your toast in the morning, it only took me two days to make 😌

All. Baked. Today. (Or it will be😉)

Gourmet, Grassfed Icelandic Lamb is making its debut at the market today. Don’t like lamb? Think again! Trust me, this isn’t your mama’s lamb😅😎 

Grab that flatbread and make it happen.

All lovingly grown, raised, and made at your local small farmer’s house. For who? For you.