Out of the Ordinary

Last weekend, I traveled to Chicago for a conference, representing my off-farm occupation. The event was in the Palmer House, an opulent, Gilded Age hotel with architectural beauty and artistic flourishes to discover around every corner.

I spent the first evening walking around the lobby, gazing up at the two-story tall Christmas tree coated in lights. I walked up and down the spiral staircases, marveled at the statues, and read the signs that shared the history of the hotel. And then I found the Peacock Door:

Each bronze door weighs more than 1,000 pounds. Framed by Christmas trees, the doors glowed alongside the strings of lights and bows. My photo couldn’t capture how much they shone.

The art in the Peacock Doors forms the basis of the hotel’s motifs. The flourishes surrounding the peacocks are on the carpets in the hallways and on the wallpaper. While no one walks through them to enter the hotel, the Peacock Doors are its symbolic gateway, uniting the entire building. I couldn’t stop staring at them.

And yet, valets, housekeepers, chefs, and myriads of others who work at the Palmer House walk past the Peacock Doors on their way to work. They walk into the lobby, decorate the two-story tall tree, and set up chairs beneath the gleaming chandeliers of the State Room. All of these rooms are in their ordinary everyday.

For me, the entire hotel was extraordinary.

When I returned home, I felt astonished that in the morning, I was in downtown Chicago, and that evening, I was checking sheep on a Christmas tree farm in rural Indiana.

Our Christmas trees may never adorn the extraordinary Palmer House Peacock Doors. Yet our trees could still be considered extraordinary by someone who loves Christmas and wants to celebrate with a Canaan fir or concolor fir.

Not everyone sees the same sights the Palmer House staff do; not everyone sees the same sights that I do on the farm.

We all have sights that are ordinary to us and extraordinary to others, or extraordinary to us and ordinary to others.

And so we enjoy sharing our little corner of the world with you. 🙂 

Thanks for Reading!

And I hope you feel refreshed and rejuvenated for the week ahead with this moment preserved in picture and prose. Consider:

• What do you see every day that visitors to your corner of the world may be astonished by?

Share your answer and this newsletter with a recent visitor to your place.

If Sylvan Sundays was forwarded to you, welcome! To learn more about our farmers, check out “A New Year’s Introduction,” and to learn more about our name, visit “Being Sylvan.” Also, make sure to check out “This Week on the Farm” and “Farm Shop” below!

Subscribe to receive this newsletter each week by clicking the button below.

This Week on the Farm

Ten days until Christmas, and I hope that you can feel relaxed enough to enjoy the season (even if your Christmas shopping still needs done!). This is a good time of year, when Christmas plays, cookies, cakes, trees, and lights abound. We can think about what the year has been like and look forward to the Rest that comes on Christmas Day.

Farm Shop

It’s getting colder, so it’s a great time for winter fiber arts! Check out our Etsy shop for raw fiber from both sheep and llamas. And see what our previous customers have to say about their Sylvanmore wool: