Receiving Graciously

Sigh, I've been holding off on writing this post for far too long. No it is not anything super serious or devastating, dont get too worried.

Remember when I had such a hard time with accepting help before we moved. I'd like to say it is a lesson I've learned and taken to heart.

But I was struck again by how hard it is. I still don't know why. At least I did not have a hard time while D was off his feet after the accident.

Remember this lovely spinning wheel I was given?

I bundled her off to a class at a new fiber festival to learn how to use her. I the week or so before my class I doggedly learned how to make her spin. I was by now means efficient or proficient but I could do as the class required, spin a continuous yarn. I had filled a bobbin and started with another one. You know I was even having fun doing it most of the time. (That first night was a battle of wills. I thought I won...)

I was so looking forward to getting to know her and being super crafty, I make my own yarn and knit. How cool is it to be able to say that? I was also planning on doing a bit of fiber stash enhancement.

Back to the class. She showed us how to oil our wheels, tips on basic maintenance, how to change a drive band, and how sampling in spinning works. Great things to know as I start out on owning my first wheel. How exciting!

Then she started coming around to each of us individually. Is that dread creeping into your heart now? Yes it is. My drive wheel is visibly warped. D and I both observed this but had no clue how bad it is. The first question was, why are you using that gear? To which I replied, the internet told me to. The second question from my instructor, how attached are you to this spinning wheel? Gulp?!

I felt like I won the lottery when I picked her up, on hearing that question I felt like someone told me oops the 6 was really a 9 you're no longer a winner. Sigh again.

She left me to my thoughts, so I again doggedly tried to make her work for me. This time she just would not go in the smaller gear. I kept trying and trying. She kept stopping and stopping. We battled for a long while. The instructor went from person to person giving them personal attention. What a wonderful thing if your wheel is cooperating.

She then circled back to me and gave me her considered opinion. I need a new wheel. As much as I try and was hard as I wish this one is not going to work. I had reached that conclusion too, with a very heavy heart. Actually I think I was crying by this time. I held on as long as I could.

Then we start talking. She has a wheel like mine that she does not use... I'm trying to think how much I want to pay. Do I really want to invest in the is new hobby? Spoiler alert Oh heck yeah I want to learn how to spin on a wheel. What a skill to have, what a fun thing to learn.

So timidly I ask what she wants for her wheel? She says you're not listening, I have a wheel I could give you.

What?! How did I win the lottery again? She goes on to tell me she had a fire almost a decade ago and people sent her things to replace the things she lost, or at least try to. My reserve diminished, she was passing on other's good will. She had received and appreciated it now she was willing to send it on to me. How could I not accept?

When we refuse to receive good will and blessings from others we hurt ourselves and the ones trying to give. Part of giving is being able to receive too. If we cannot receive graciously how can we give graciously?

Hopefully I will have a new spinning wheel to show you in July.

Celebrate!

This post comes to you from my mind sitting in a lovely B&B on the coast of Oregon. Ahh, Oregon I wish you loved me half as much as I love you. I know I know, you're trying to grow me into the strong competent person you think I can be but honey throw me a bone every once in a while. I'm working this church treasurer thing now, and a full time job, and a new house, and deciding if Burt needs a brother. Maybe the coast will give me some relaxation time.

Yep, I'm a church office holder now. Boy is that a tough adjustment to make. And here I thought I left church work back in New York. Sigh.

Anyways back to the meat of the story. This month is an anniversary for D and me. Where to go? What to do? We've been together long enough to know we're not the fancy dinner premium hotel kind of people.

But we have dipped our toes into a few B&Bs. So pretty and man do I love it when someone makes breakfast for me. Today we got to try Dutch Babies. I know it sounds like I'm a cannibal but I'm not. A Dutch Baby is a German (Deutsch) pancake. It is a bit like a big version of a popover or Yorkshire Pudding. I've never had Yorkshire Pudding but I did run across a funny article. The BBC was making fun of NY Times for giving recommendations for syrup or fruit preserves being used on a Dutch Baby when everyone knows it is properly known as Yorkshire Pudding and Yorkshire Pudding is not sweet it is savory only!!!!

Ahh, the things people can get their knickers in a twist over. Just because something is served one way in one place does not mean they hold the rights on everything about it. Just think if India took back Curry from England. Honestly I have no idea if there are differences between true Indian Curry and Curry you get in England. I just hope India does not judge me harshly for loving their curry spice.

Getting back to the Dutch Baby we had, I now have the recipe and will be attempting them in my house. If I am quick and lucky I just may post some pictures in the future.

We had a lovely time at the beach and continued the German food theme with lunch at a German restaurant. Germany can I continue to love your wursts and beers too?

We were then off to watch glass blowing being demonstrated. I have a wee glass kitten and some fancy new earrings and the continued love of crafting in all their various forms. We also hit Tillamook Cheese on the way down, and admired their ability to craft cheese and tasty things too.

Now since D is enjoying a rest in the lovely private B&B room I may just take a walk down on the shore or I could just curl up too. Decisions, decisions.