Bible, Butter, Boxes and Bins

      Oh, no, I have lost it. Two posts named Bible and Butter popped up and I deleted one. It was the finished one. Now I must recreate and that is not a good thing. Somehow the words at the end of the day don't seem quite as fresh as those at the beginning. Perhaps I will just combine yesterday and today, and move on. Flexibility.
      Random describes my nature as well as these days. Random people have trouble with lists. The to-do list often looks untouched at the end of the day. Some folks labeled as random have come up with a solution, writing the list as they go or leaving blank spaces to fill in actual tasks accomplished. Neither applied today, and the only list was in my head. Writing the blog post occupied the first spot after the morning routine was completed. Since Tuesday included Bible study and I have been waiting to tell you about French Butter Presses and Butter Bells, they became the rather random co-topics.
      To keep the mind and spirit engaged, two Bible studies occupy the agenda for the summer. Doing The Frazzled Female study from afar with my Shalom friends provides regular contact and insures that I hold them up in prayer even as they keep remembering me. By joining with women from the new church I am attending for an in-depth study of Psalm 119, I have the opportunity to meet and discuss scripture in person. Getting to know a few people doesn't hurt either. The Shalom group begins working on their study this week, so I am ahead. The Gwinnet Community Church (GCC) study, Sweeter than Chocolate began last night with 30 women gathered. Both promise to be enjoyable and valuable

SQUIRREL

       Believe it or not, butter can sit on counter in the summer and not turn into mound of soft yellow mush in a pool of golden liquid. An alternative to spreading rock hard refrigerated butter exists. Known variously by the classy name, the French Butter Press, or by its southern moniker, a Butter Bell, this ingenious little two piece pottery gizmo works! My introduction to the Butter Bell came when Beth received one from Bill as a gift. He demonstrated packing softened butter tightly into the bell, adding about a half inch of water to the bowl, and inverting the bell in the bowl. Beth lifted it out; the butter was in the bell, not the bowl. I tried it after it had been on the counter all night. The butter was in the bell. But, that was winter. Considering purchasing one when the move to Georgia was complete did start me looking, but that would be something to complete after arriving, not something to haul down.
      However, on a trip to the Clay Coyote Pottery Shop near Hutch to purchase a mug for Bill, there on the shelf was a French Butter Press. Examination of the piece and the literature indicated the two items served the same purpose. The idea that I would arrive with a unique, beautifully turned, glazed and fired butter keeper began to take shape. When two friends blessed me with some money to help with moving, I hurried right out to the Clay Coyote and purchased the item you see below. It won approval even from Bill, the connoisseur of Butter Bells.

The French Butter Press as it sits.

Soft, spreadable full stick of butter.

    More boxes and bins got emptied today, and the plans for where to put it all developed problems. More items found their way to the Goodwill bin. A second bin will have to get started tomorrow. Too much stuff - redundant stuff. Why in the land of chapped lips could I never find a Chapstick? A drawer in the bathroom now holds a modest collection of 15 or so. Why was there never a pencil or pen when I had to write something? A storage drawer now overflows with pencils, pens, markers, highlighters, and colored pencils. Really? How many plastic folder label holders does one person need; how many post-it note packs; how many writing pads; how many file folders; how many colored dots? Yes, today marked actually unpacking the boxes from the desk, the kitchen, the basement, my desk, and wherever else these products were stored. 

      I've lost count of the boxes hauled to the compactor and the number of empty bins will soon match the number of full bins including the Christmas collection. The apartment did not get done by my birthday, so we'll hold out for the Fourth of July.