A Little Note From the 9 Mile Schoolhouse
Hello, dear friends and neighbors!
It’s here! Somehow we have already stumbled upon fall, which honestly feels a little impossible because I’m pretty sure summer just started, and yet here we are with the evenings getting shorter, the gardens starting to look tired, and the last of our summer weddings behind us.
I’ve been looking around the Schoolhouse lately thinking about what a season it has been here, because sometimes when you’re in the middle of it you don’t really have time to stop and take it all in. There have been flowers and dancing and long evenings under the tent, people falling in love and celebrating the people they love, dinners that somehow required approximately seventeen or (seven hundred) trips back and forth from the kitchen, dogs wandering through things they absolutely were not invited to, children running around, climbing and singing and playing their games together, lively music, smiles and laughter, a lot of dishes, and more than a few nights where I finally sat down and realized that I was completely exhausted but also really, really delighted at the turning of this world around me.
And now things are beginning to get a little quieter, which I am actually looking forward to.
A Season of Love and Celebration
This summer reminded me all over again why I love this place so much.
The Schoolhouse has become a place where people come together for weddings and dinners and celebrations, but I think what I love most are all the little moments around those things that probably aren’t what anyone puts on the official itinerary. Somebody standing barefoot in the grass, friends lingering long after dinner is over, a bride sneaking away for a quiet, reflective minute, somebody discovering the old swing, a kid finding something interesting in the garden, people sitting around the fire when they should probably be going home but nobody really wants to yet, picking up one of my treasured old books, either for a good read or a quick decor addition.
Those are a few of the things I notice.
I’ve watched couples dance under strings of lights, families gather around tables, and stood outside after everyone left listening to the quiet settle back over this property. There is something about witnessing memories being made here that never gets old, and I don’t think I realized when I bought this old Schoolhouse how much I would be honored to be the person who gets to hold the space for all of that. It’s both humbling and so soul-satisfying to be near all that love.
And then there is the Schoolhouse itself…
We have been working. I mean, working A LOT. I feel like there is always another project somewhere, and every time I think, “Okay, I think we’re finally getting close,” I look around and find at least twelvity more things I want to do, and it both haunts my rest and simultaneously propels me forward.
There has been fresh paint and new trim and shutters, gardens and landscaping, work on the patio, the hot tub and sauna and cold plunge, and a truly unreasonable amount of time spent thinking about plants. I’m no gardener, never have been, and spiders, snakes, and mice are not my friends. I’ll take a bear any day over the likes of those, yet I’m in the dirt now. I have planted things, moved things, replanted things and then stood there wondering why I thought putting that particular plant there was a good idea in the first place. It’s unspeakable to think of the investment of time and dollars and emotion that has gone into the Lowe’s clearance plant section.
And then, of course, the deer discovered the improvements…
I’m not proud to say to you there have been rolls of deer netting, new fencing, more new fencing, automatic light sensors, sprays that actually smell like deer death, and nights that I yell, “Eat my flowers and I eat you!” It is not a pretty picture, but more like a rough episode of Little Schoolhouse on the Prairie.
There is something mildly humbling about putting hours into growing something beautiful only to look out the window and find a deer standing there enjoying the fruits of your labor like she personally paid the mortgage. I’m trying very hard to remember that this is nature and not take it personally, although I’m not promising anything.
The funny thing is that, as much work as there has been, I’m beginning to see the bigger picture of what this place can become, what it is meant to be, and the picture of my beloved little Schoolhouse, affectionately named “Yellonore,” is finally beginning to come into focus. That is the part that keeps me going when I’m feeling completely overwhelmed or tired.
I also could not have done nearly as much without the people who have shown up beside me. I couldn’t do any of it on my own. The friends, family, helpful children who live here, people carrying things, fixing things, planting things, hauling things, making suggestions, bringing food, staying late, and generally jumping into whatever strange project I had decided was suddenly very important are essential. Especially Alicia, who has been right beside me through it all this year, an encourager and partner in all the dreaming and scheming. There have been so many who have quietly helped make this place what it is becoming.
I notice it, I appreciate it, I couldn’t do this without any of it, and I know it. I really do.
This is why I keep doing it all, and why this place will, God willing, continue to build and grow…
I think I’m finally figuring out what I want the Schoolhouse to be, and it isn’t just a wedding venue or a place people rent for an evening or two.
I deeply desire it to be a place where we can practice a bit of an old-fashioned way of living together, where neighbors become friends and friends bring friends, where people sit around a table and actually talk, where kids are screen free and frolicking and dogs are underfoot, where somebody brings a pie and somebody else brings wine and nobody is terribly worried about whether everything matches. In fact, how glorious would it be if nothing matches, yet every single setting is perfected in its uniqueness?
I want there to be suppers and celebrations and stories and songs and flowers and all of those little things that make an ordinary Tuesday feel like something worth remembering, something unforgettable, something that everyone who was there can hardly wait to experience again.
Maybe that sounds a little idealistic, but honestly, I think we need more places like that. I know I do.
Maybe that is what I’ve been building here all along without quite having the words for it.
What’s Coming Up Next
We have some fun things planned for the fall, beginning with HalloWine & Hitchcock on October 23, which is going to be a little spooky and a little ridiculous in exactly the way I like things to be. We’ll have wine tasting, outdoor showings of The Birds and Psycho, a themed dinner and popcorn pairings, open fires, candles, blankets and cozy camp chairs, and generally everything you need for an evening where you can be just a little nervous about what might happen next, an evening delightfully dark.
Just the following day, Saturday, Oct. 24th from 10am-noon, we have the Lil Pumpkin Tea, an adorably-autumn costume party for the kids of all ages. Bring them in their cute costumes for a tea time filled with crafts, stories, treats, and a professional photo all dressed up as a keepsake!
Then there will be Friendsgiving, which is exactly what it sounds like and is probably one of the things I’m most excited about because I want this one to be simple. Bring a favorite Thanksgiving dish, come share a meal, play some games, meet some people, stay awhile. Celebrate gratitude with those who are grateful for you! You don’t need to bring anything fancy or make something worthy of a magazine spread. Bring the thing your family actually likes to eat. Or just buy a pie, Costco’s pumpkin pie hits hard and honestly, we all know we love it, right? I fully support either option.
We’re also getting ready for the Enchanted Christmas Village and our Old-Fashioned Tree Lighting & Caroling, which I’m already getting VERY excited about because apparently I have decided that one of my hobbies is turning an old Montana schoolhouse into a Hallmark-style Christmas movie set.
We’re also working on the details for our Festive Feast, which I’m very excited about and will share more about soon. I’m thinking Celtic Christmas theme this year, maybe, but would love suggestions!
Come See Us!
When I think about what I’m most excited about this fall, it is definitely having a little more room to breathe, to look for leaves or watch them as they drift into this yard I adore with a whimsical flow that cannot be duplicated: the feathers of the sky. Summer is wonderful but it is also a bit of a runaway train around here, and I’m ready for some evenings where I can sit on the porch without looking at my watch and think about the next thing that needs to be done. I want to smell the grass dry out and watch it wave to me when the breezes blow. I want to smile and wave back.
I want to cook something just because I feel like cooking it, try a new recipe and light a fire, invite a new neighbor or an old friend over without needing a particular reason, watch the seasons change around this old place, and maybe spend a little time enjoying some of the things we’ve worked so hard to create.
And I want to keep figuring out what happens when a historic schoolhouse becomes not just a venue, but a little community of its own.
Let’s turn the page of this Storybook Life together, you and I. I’m curious to know what adventures and challenges and redemptions the next chapter will bring. I cannot wait to share it all with you.
So if you’ve been here before, thank you. If you’ve helped, thank you. If you’ve been meaning to come, please do come. And if you don’t know anyone yet, well…you do now, friend.
I really mean that.
See you at the Schoolhouse,
Jessie & Family
