Prairie Grlz Find Grace at Culvers

“I do not understand the mystery of grace -- only that it meets us where we are and does not leave us where it found us.”
― Anne Lamott

Grace Through Grits

Today Prairie Sherry and I left the north woods of Wisconsin.  We were both a little sulky about returning to our lives of laundry, whining children, and tomato sorting. 

I tuned into Oprah radio (XM channel 107), hoping to increase Sharon's Oprah knowledge.  (Seriously.  Sharon doesn't even know Peter Walsh is Oprah's organizing guru.  But, if Oprah knew Sharon, she would ditch Peter and snatch up our very own Prairie Sherry.)  Reverend Ed Bacon was on the radio talking about grace with someone.  I was driving and asked Sharon to take notes.  I can't read her writing and have no idea who Rev. Ed's guest was.

I love to talk about grace.  Think about grace.  Experience grace.  You don't have to earn grace.  It is just there.  Grace is when a lady at Target lets you cut in line because your three year old is melting down.  Grace is learning about Spanx for the first time.  Grace is someone smiling at you, just in time.    Reverend Ed says grace is like grits in states South of the Mason Dixon line.  You don't order grits.  You just get them. 

Sharon and I talked about grace for awhile.  Then Sharon fell asleep and I turned the radio to E Street Radio.  (Sharon is angry there isn't a Bon Jovi XM station.  I can't even begin to count how many times we listened to "Bed of Roses" while collaging.) 

"Prairie Sherry, this song is for you."

When Sharon woke up, (parched and in search of her lip gloss), there was still plenty of time to discuss Willy Street Fair.  We had just completed a passel (not sure how many that is, but it sounds "prairie.") of collages and had to figure out how to display them in a limited space at the fair.  I started freaking out because every idea I had was either ridiculous (a wire clothes line that would better serve as a French Revolution decapitation device) or would involve HGTV sending me a carpenter (a complicated pegboard pyramid).  I imagined the collages never finding a home.  I saw visions of me Velcro-ing collages to my body and walking the length of Willy Street.  Really, I am too old to be hawking my wares.

Feeling a bit overwhelmed, we pulled into Hixton.  Home of three antique shops, all of them dusty and musty enough to send your sinuses into a panic.  We started prowling through the first store.  Lots of rusty berry buckets, vintage valentines, and ceramic heads. We methodically worked our way to the back of the store.  Then the clouds parted and the angels sang!  For right in front of us was a sturdy, wooden, room divider.  It was perfect for displaying our collages and only required Prussian blue paint and a bit of distressing.  Sharon pulled out her bartering skills and we got the divider for 22 dollars instead of 30.  That.  My.  Prairie Friends.  Is.  Grace.   


The grace did not end  there.  Oh no.  It was now 4:30, and we hadn't had lunch.  I was afraid Sharon was going to collapse in the third antique store.  She was reeling around and asking me if I thought it was hot in the store.  (It wasn't.)  Luckily we found a couple of chairs for her to collage, so that perked her up a bit.  We had eaten amazing, organic food all weekend.  But we needed to just eat food.  We settled on Culver's.  While we were waiting for our lunch, a worker came by and gave us a whole order of chicken tenders with dipping sauces!!!  For no reason.  For free.  That, Prairie Friends, was even more grace.  Sharon and I felt the love as we scarfed chicken strips and returned to the topic of grace.

Pay attention to the grace that surrounds you each and every day.  Once you notice grace, tell us all about it. 


Prairie Eydie 

"Grace is available for each of us every day - our spiritual daily bread - but we've got to remember to ask for it with a grateful heart and not worry about whether there will be enough for tomorrow."


- Sarah Ban Breathnach