You don’t have to move to the middle of nowhere to become a 'homesteader'. You can start right where you are. Today.
a house should have a cookie jar
Many years ago I happened upon this little poem, and I wrote it down. Where? or when? or from whom? I cannot even venture a guess at this point in time, but it has been in my collection for decades – and I’ll have to leave it at that. When my mom was a little girl she promised herself that when she grew up to be a ‘mommy’, she would ALWAYS have a cookie jar that was full of cookies. I can attest that we had a cookie jar when she was momming, and occasionally it had cookies in it. I on the other hand, made no such promise.
“A house should have a cookie jar for when its half past three and children hurry home from school as hungry as can be there’s nothing quite as splendid as spicy, fluffy ginger snaps and sweet milk in a cup.
A house should have a mother, waiting with a hug. No matter what a child brings home, a puppy or a bug for children only loiter when the bell rings to dismiss if no ones home to greet them with a cookie and a kiss. “ – annonymous
And that’s all I have to say about that.
But I’d love to hear your experiences with a cookie jar.
My name is Cindy. I guess you could say my homesteading journey began in our second floor walk up apartment when we were newly married. It was fun to finally be “playing-house” for real, and I suppose I never really grew out of that stage. It just got realer and realer as time went on.
Now I am the mother of five grownup children who all have children of their own. One of my sons called me a “closet hutterite“. Made me laugh. But I couldn’t think of a suitable retort. Still working on that one.
These five great kids have given us nineteen wonderful grandchildren who are the joy of our lives. I am married to my best friend. His name is Dan, and he is not a closet hutterite. But he’s a patient sorta guy who doesn’t mind living with one. Most of the time.
Truth is, in the beginning of our life together we thought (and hoped and prayed) we’d one day live on a small farm. ….. Well, life doesn’t always work out exactly how we picture it in our younger years does it? It didn’t materialize quite the same way we dreamed it might, but that is totally okay. Sometimes Heavenly Father gently nudges us in a different direction, and so here is where we are. In a big Canadian city, surrounded by lots of good neighbours. They’re also patient sorta people. That helps.
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One thought on “a house should have a cookie jar”
I went looking for this little poem because I have a cookie jar that means so much to me and my, now adult, children. It was my grandmother’s, given to her by my uncle when he was a child, and the family lived in a small Italian village named Storo. I inherited it when Nana died and kept it filled with cookies, just as she did. One day, after school, my son, then six, wanted an extra cookie, that I had forbidden he have.
He dropped the lid, which shattered, but the jar remained intact. It sits on my counter today, waiting to be passed down to him someday.
I went looking for this little poem because I have a cookie jar that means so much to me and my, now adult, children. It was my grandmother’s, given to her by my uncle when he was a child, and the family lived in a small Italian village named Storo. I inherited it when Nana died and kept it filled with cookies, just as she did. One day, after school, my son, then six, wanted an extra cookie, that I had forbidden he have.
He dropped the lid, which shattered, but the jar remained intact. It sits on my counter today, waiting to be passed down to him someday.