The REAL Meaning Behind Pumpkin Pie Painter

I am joining the party at:

 Modern Country Style's

Define Your Blog Link Party.

I wrote this post a few months back

but as it explains about my blog

and about myself,

I thought I'd share it here

now.

I've been meaning to write a post about why my blog is called

"Pumpkin Pie Painter."

After all, I don't especially like Pumpkin Pie;

I don't paint pumpkins

and definitely don't paint pies.

I barely even make pies; I'm not exactly the worlds greatest cook,
although I do make a mean cherry pie,
usually,

if my grumpy stove wants to cooperate with me.

(It fluctuates in temperature,
or at least that is my excuse.)

I just finished decorating my house for Christmas,
and I find it funny how much of our personalities are wrapped up in our decorating.

My decor is not really a certain style.

I am not modern,

not primitive (although my skills at math can be),

not fancy or Victorian.

I am somewhat country,

but also,

well, maybe a little eclectic in my choices.

Perhaps it is the "artist" in me?

 I like fun things,

sparkly glitter and bright colors.

 

 (My sisters and I joke that it's our Russian coming out.)

 But I like quaint and simple, too.

 I love living on a farm,

being married to a man who values farming.

I can respect that it's not for everyone,

and that's as it should be because we are all different;

but I love having my hands dirty,

digging,

smelling outdoorsy things,

the colors of nature,

flowers,

the smell of hay,

the sound of cows mooing and munching on hay;

and bees flitting from flower to flower on the raspberry bushes.

 

 I'm sentimental.

I love that my husband's grandfather

with incredible patience

built these little cabins,

carving out the tiny details.

He was a sweet man,

kind,

and I wish my kids could have met and had some memories of him.

 I do love to paint.  Sometimes I take something like these candlesticks I found 

paint them black, cover them with Modge Podge,

and then sprinkle glitter all over them so I can use them for Christmas.

Other times, I take simple candlesticks and paint colors and flowers all over them,

rather like that first picture.

I recycle

and hope that I'll like the results.

 I love Christmas,

and birthdays,

vacation,

days spent with the people I love

most of the time just at home in the garden or doing farm projects.

I love singing loudly to songs I love

when only my kids are around to hear me

because they don't notice;

they're singing just as loudly.

I love Valentine's Day,

family,

shopping with my mom

and when I can with my sisters,

visits with friends:

in person and letters.

 

 I love cozy fires on cold windy nights
by the stone hearth that was built from stones that my loving father-in-law and father hauled from the pasture; my husband had been deployed to Iraq at the time.

I love this picture that has a lot of meaning to me

because I believe in God.

He is the God that has saved me personally

from my wrongs,
through Jesus His son

and made me right

because He loves me.

And He does things that are unique:

like the way we got our farm

and

this picture.

 This picture was on a wall at my Farmer's Grandfather's house.

I had just been discussing with my husband who one of my favorite painters is.

And suddenly, as we were looking around during a visit,

my husband pointed to the name on this picture.

Could it be?

What are the chances in all of this world and all of the painters

that this would be the very artist that I so admired.

But it was,

and when my Farmer's Grandfather died,

he left the picture to us

because he knew how much we liked it.

Yes, the things that we treasure often represent a little of who we are. 

 

And now,

I give you the meaning of my blog name:

When my son was younger,

we taught him his name.

His sister likes to tease,

like her father does.

Well,

I guess her mother does as well;

and when we'd ask our son his name and he'd tell us,

Violet would say,

"No it isn't.  It's Pumpkin Pie.  Your name is Pumpkin Pie."

Our son would get very angry and grit his teeth and say,

"My name is NOT Pumpkin Pie!"

What an insult.

And we'd all laugh.

Eventually, this became his joke, too,

and he'd call us each Pumpkin Pie when he was in one of his teasing moods.

 

And so,

of course,

I am Pumpkin Pie Painter.