As I balance my arm to keep from getting the cream covering the poison ivy off the desk, I will admire the tasty treats that I risked my comfort for.
Here is the small basket of berries that I picked a couple weeks ago out at the Turnbull's farm (Cassandra and I have our gardens there, more pics soon). We walked around the outside of their woods, along a corn field and found about a dozen small berry patches.
So I wondered for a few hours about what we will do with them. I spent hours (1) and sweat (eww) to bring them home, there must be something amazing I could make... then a visit from my mother-in-law brings a quart of berries (big ones too) to my table. I ask Rich if muffins would be good, "sure", and they are enjoyed Saturday night while watching 10,000B.C. (although a time that I'm pretty sure didn't have an Earth in it, an interesting story, for history lovers). The muffins looked quite pretty too, I think.
And here we have the piano keys from a large, black, upright that mostly still sits in Cassandra's dining room. I have everything but the harp and some of the frame here at home.
The top of my sewing table will be from the front foot panel but we need to take apart the rest for enough to make the legs. I have not decided if I will strip the black paint, distress it, or leave it as is. It will be sitting in the only open spot in my living room which has a mix of darker woods and some black picture frames. I will most likely keep it as it is (for now).
Thanks to my new friends, and old, for the comments. They are very kind, and give me more confidence as I continue writing and creating.
P.S. I did not put the wild berries I picked into the muffins, I ate them slowly by themselves, as I found them to be sweeter than the garden variety.