On the negative side, her loose hair hanging over the dough and the fan blowing clouds of flour all over the room drives me nuts, but the rest is peppy. I especially like the jingle bells over the door that ring at the beginning and the end.
This week, in one of the boxes of saved items from our 2018 move, I found the musical set of three metal bells that hung over the door in my immigrant grandpa's bike shop. He was a man with an eighth grade education who went on to found a successful screw machine shop, with three patents in his name. One of the SonsM recently bought a old commercial building, German barn style, erected in the 1850's in the small town where we now live. He's working on renovating it for rental space on the ground floor, and redoing the apartment upstairs for himself. In days gone by it also housed a bike shop in the back and he's planning to hang the bells on the rear door there.
In the face of changes, losses, challenges and gains, the bells I've held onto all these years (that previously hung in my dad's workroom in the home I grew up in and bought after he died), represent the held hope that a faithful journey matters; that who we are and what we leave behind (or take with us!) has the potential to resonate or ring for others in unexpected ways that exceed imagination.