Houses, tea, conversation and beauty

Yesterday I went with some friends to a beautiful home nearby, which has been lovingly and tastefully restored and remodeled to recall an early-20^th century aesthetic, the time period when the house was constructed. The exquisite attention to the smallest of details throughout the house is not for mere show, but reflects the personality of the owner, as well as incorporates her family’s heritage in antiques, linens, pictures, etc.

The excursion—which included tea, freshly-baked cookies and delightful conversation—was a refreshing reminder to pay attention to and cultivate beauty in whatever surroundings we find ourselves. 

It was not my place to take pictures and “blog” about the house. That would have detracted from the in-the-moment enjoyment of the company I was with.

Rather, I post here a picture of the PROLIFIC Blue Basil in my front yard that feeds many happy bees and that now obscures a small memento from my grandmother’s yard.

Marcell Inn - Altadena

As of June, it will be 19 years since I moved to Southern California. Pasadena has been a wonderful place to live for so many reasons. One of them is the colorful history and cultural heritage of the area, which is actively protected and promoted. I was fortunate to work with someone very involved in historic preservation, and she generously gave me tickets to various home tours and other events.

So, even though I'm a transplant, I've learned to appreciate the richness of this area's past. So, imagine my excitement when we found a stash of signs from a Prohibition-era eating establishment that had been used to patch the back of the garage!

My neighbor wrote a blog post about the find here:

When the first sign was uncovered, I ran to the computer to see if there was any information about the Marcell Inn. Indeed, I found a carefully researched blog post about the Inn and its storied history. (See also this excerpt about the Inn from a book published in 1935.)

Today, I had an opportunity to meet the author, a long-time Pasadena/Altadena preservationist and historian. He is going to see what, if any, connection there might be between this address and the Inn. How/Why did the signs end up here?

Boundary stones

When I walked outside this morning, I saw that three large stones had been placed in the herb spiral in the front yard, rocks I had dug out from the back yard of my previous residence. I would have left them at my old place, except for the spot-on suggestion of Jordanne that they could be useful here.

They immediately recalled the boundary stones of the Ancient Near East and stones that were used as memorials in the Bible (e.g., after the Israelites crossed the Jordan River in Joshua 4).

And, Psalm 16:6 came to mind: "The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance (NIV)." Or, as the Common English Bible translates the verse: "The property lines have fallen beautifully for me; yes, I have a lovely home."

Then, the significance of land was underscored in this column in The Jerusalem Post by Wayne Stiles:

When one reads the Bible, it becomes clear how geography is the stage on which the redemptive narrative takes place. The land God chose was not arbitrary, for He designed even the land itself to develop the spiritual lives of His people. One of God’s stated purposes in bringing the Hebrews from Egypt was to give them a land that fostered faith (Deuteronomy 11:10-15). The land was never intended to be just a place to live.

Land. Home. Boundary lines and stones. A place. A grateful heart. 

To whom much is given much will be required.

Not always so thankful

From the introduction written by his wife, Catherine Marshall, to a book of sermons and prayers by Peter Marshall:

[Peter] was always most appreciative of all the details that went into creating a home. Often his blessing before a meal would be: "Father, we thank Thee for the loving hands that prepared this food." Sometimes, though, he was not quite so generous in his praise. I have seen him sit down, look at what was before him, grin at me and say: "Catherine, I think you'd better thank God for this. I don't want to be a hypocrite."

From Mr. Jones, Meet the Master, edited by Catherine Marshall, page 11.