Happiness is Homemade

In case you haven't figured it out, home equals Maine in my book. Today, I was really missing home. Just in time to salve my longing, a package arrived from a friend back home.

One of the things I love about Maine is its stability. Nothing much changes. Don't get me wrong. Businesses come and go (far too often sometimes). New developments are built (also far too often sometimes). Overall, though, things stay the same. There are the same people, the same old hiking trails, and the same quiet evenings surrounded by fireflies and mosquitoes.

It's a world filled with respect for the past, a world where people still can jam every year, grow gardens, and attend community bean suppers. It's also a world where older ladies keep pieces of that past to pass down to the next generation.

A woman my best friend goes to church with passed on a box of old cross stitching patterns to her. My friend is amazing. She chose one of the patterns for me, got together supplies, and shipped it halfway across the world so that I could have a new project and a little piece of home.

I love the little tagline "Happiness is Homemade" on the pickle pattern!