christmas past

it's a few weeks yet 'til christmas, but we are putting up the tree tonight. this is unplanned, but the tree is in the yard, up against the house, and why not now? the not-so-little girl is anxious to decorate, so in comes the tree, we find the stand and the box of ornaments and she begins. she remembers from year to year how she and i like this tree to look: the old red flocked birds are indeed "flocked", all gathered together on one the side of the tree. her great-great grandmother's sequined ball is high up near the top, so you can look up and see all the sparkles reflect the tree lights. delicate ornaments still go near the top of the tree, a reminder of long-ago christmases when we had babies and dogs. 

we listen to christmas music as she decorates and i make us supper. suddenly, she's in the kitchen at my side, with one of the old plastic filagree balls in her hand. there's something inside, she whispers. listen. and i hear the quiet rattle. we investigate, and find something tiny and cylindrical inside. she shakes and tips and tries to bring the object to a large hole in the ornament, but its shape won't allow it to be pulled through. finally we resort to tweezers and gently tug. and out it comes. 

it's paper, and it's old and thin. slowly, carefully, the not-so-little girl unfurls the scrap and reads its contents: december 24, 1985. and it is signed, in a childlike scrawl, by her mother.

how can this be? it's been right there, unnoticed, for thirty-two christmases! we can't wait to share our find with the girl herself! but she does not remember placing such a note and is as astonished as we are. more quick math and we come to the realization that, when she hid this note, she was ten, and exactly the age that the not-so-little-girl is now.

on her own, the youngest of us decides to return the note to its original hiding place and add a second one, this one dated december 8, 2017, and signed in her own childlike hand. she hopes some christmas as she decorates, her own daughter may notice the tiny rolled notes hidden deep inside her great-grandmother's gold filagree ornament, and be just as surprised and delighted by their discovery as we all were this christmas.

downsizing

in the midst of the summer gardening and room painting and kitchen redo (no, it's still not done), i am trying to clean out useless things. stuff i've held onto for most of my life that means very little or nothing to other people. things i don't want the girl to have to deal with when it comes time to clean this place out for the last time. here is a perfect example of what i mean. it's the end of a roll of vinyl wallpaper i bought in 1981. 

we were moving out of state, leaving family and friends, and starting new jobs. the girl was turning five, and beginning school in a few months. with all the details of the packing and moving, uppermost in my mind was making the transition as easy and fun as i could for her. we rented a house sight unseen because it was in a small rural neighborhood and had a big yard and four bedrooms. we chose for her the room with the most light and the most nooks and secret spots for playing. and i made it a priority to have it completely redone and beautiful before we moved in.

and this is the bedroom wallpaper that she and i chose, sitting one evening on the porch swing of the house we would soon be leaving, the only home she'd known. we both gasped when we turned this page, and knew we had found the perfect wall covering. in an effort to capture the experience, i saved this piece when we left the rental for our new home in our new state. and i've had it ever since, tucked in the back of the bottom drawer of her bedroom dresser. 

of course, my tastes have changed significantly since then, and i am now admittedly horrified to think that i imposed such graphic chaos on so young a psyche. but at that pivotal, transitional time of our lives, it was just what we both needed. 

out of place

found, in the woods, on the dirt driveway of friends, this maple leaf only recently unfurled on its branch. staring up at me, a circlet with colors that mesmerize. how does this happen, these odd colors, when the rest of the world is newly vibrant green? after some research, the driveway friend tells me the center is the tiny egg of a gall wasp. so now i know what it is - but i still don't understand. 

tiny volunteer

the tiniest of lupine plants, nestled among the wild violets under the garden bench, so very far away from any host plant. wondrous...how does this happen?

kitchamajig

i don't usually wax poetic about things like kitchen utensils, but i am so happy with this find that i feel the need to document my delight. i bought this at a local thrift store last summer. i'd never seen anything like it. i was intrigued with the fact that it was made in hong kong. the asking price was a dollar and i gladly paid it. i brought it home, cleaned it up, plunked it into the utensil crock next to the stove, and promptly forgot about it - until thanksgiving. in the rush of meal prep, as the pile of spatulas and slotted spoons built up in the sink, i grabbed for the ---  what was it, anyway?

long after it had drained the potatoes for mashing, scraped the turkey bits from the bottom of the pan for gravy, and whipped the squash into a puree, i googled it and found it was often referred to as a kitchamajig. knowing its quirky name made me even more enamored of it! it's now my go-to utensil - it beats, it drains, it mixes, it strains. i still get giddy using it.

winters like this one, it doesn't take much to make me happy!

message in a bottle

yesterday, i bought this tiny-but-tall bottle for a dollar at a goodwill store. a matching one in my kitchen is filled with dried orange peel. even if there hadn't been a mysterious folded paper inside, i still would have bought it - for lemon peel, and a matching set!

this morning, i fished the paper out and read it. and i've been thinking about the message ever since...  well done, perfect stranger.

(and you, reader, will need to click on the picture to see it for yourself.)

clearing away the past

for several mornings this week, the little girl and i spent some time organizing her bedroom, a rather large space with lots of nooks and crannies. after breakfast we'd turn on the radio and start where we had left off the day before. as we worked we'd reminisce about toys and books she'd outgrown. we chose stuffed animals to donate to the thrift store. we made piles of action figures, legos, and plastic dinosaurs and found and labeled containers for each. sometimes we'd get sidetracked and have to snuggle on the bed to read parts of a book or get up and dance to a favorite tune. but we'd soon be back to sorting out broken crayons from the whole ones and tossing piles of old greeting cards and first grade artwork. we organized a desk space for homework with sharpened pencils, a ruler, post-it notes, and a few erasers - the best part of the room, she says! we set up a science center with her rock collection and a reading corner with some comfy pillows. it was a lot of work, but we both agreed it was fun and productive and she loves the grown-up space. when will we have to do this again, she asked. never? i replied.

after we'd finished, i brought home the bag of toys to donate and two bags of trash to take to the dump. tonight i was going through them both, just to be sure i wasn't throwing away some important part to a game or a landmark piece of first grade work. and deep inside a box of puzzle pieces, i found this. it's the lyrics to a silly song we made up and recorded one night after dinner years ago. i'm guessing she wrote this note two years ago. i have no idea why she chose to write down these lyrics. all i know is, finding it touched my heart so. and it came this close to going to the dump.

here's the song, as we recorded it that winter night long ago as we had ice cream for dessert.

second time around

walking in the yard today, i found this. look familiar?

i was surprised - and then laughed and laughed. 

i don't know how it got here. last i saw it, the little girl was tucking it into her pocket. i wonder if she placed it so that i'd find it and be surprised. by the way, notice some hungry someone has been nibbling on the acorn man's hat!

in the yard

took a twilight stroll around the perimeter of the yard, noticing differences now that the seasons are shifting. in the compost pile, the tiniest of mum plants is budding and has a single autumn-red blossom.

and who made off with the nuts that were attached to this cluster of acorn caps?

old things

off on an antiquing adventure this weekend and, after marveling at all sorts of beautiful and interesting items, this is the one i came away with. not only does it slice eggs three different ways - horizontally, vertically, and diagonally, it plays beautiful music when the cutting wires are plunked. i know this. i used to do it back in the old days, when i was a child.

the end of gingerbreadmania

each december, for a few weeks, i go into a bit of a frenzy trying to replicate the recipe for the best gingerbread i have ever tasted. the gingerbread i have every first saturday in december when i go to the same ladies' aid christmas luncheon. the secret recipe gingerbread, made by sweet but closed-mouthed little church ladies in a remote village town.

i have blogged about it in decembers past - the backstory, if you want it, is here and here. today my quest came to an end thanks to elizabeth (whose name, of course, has been changed), a genial and warm member of the ladies' aid, who mailed me the recipe in her own hand after i gave her my name and address at this year's christmas luncheon. i made it today - spicy, warm, delicious. surprisingly simple - and, after all that, there isn't even a secret ingredient.

someone else's santa

look what i found at a consignment shop, priced at only five dollars. isn't it pretty? when i see a handmade item like this one in a resale shop or antique store, it saddens me a bit and i wonder about its history. i know what goes into cross-stitch and how long it takes. someone spent time making this, probably to give to a loved one or a special friend. so how did it end up here? did no one want it? certainly, i do not need another santa, and my walls are full of cross-stitch pieces. but i turned over my five dollar bill and bought this because i couldn't just leave it in the store, on the shelf. so JR '92, wherever you are, thanks for the cute little santa!

at low tide

found in a tide pool

a crab, a whelk, seastars, and barnicles

a little girl

and a ten dollar bill, now drying on the counter!

score!

exciting news in sports this weekend (yay bruins! go red sox!) but this is my big score - a telescope purchased at a yard sale to benefit a town organization. it was priced high for a used telescope with no manual, and i passed on it at first. but as i meandered around looking at other things, someone announced that every thing was being discounted to 50%. i scuttled back and picked this up for $25. now, i just need to figure out how to use it! my summer project... look out, jupiter - here i come!

obviously NASA's, not mine!

trillium

here's painted trillium i found in remote woods a few days ago. there were more of these plants in one place than i've ever seen before! i planted a dozen plants of this variety last spring, nursery stock purchased at a local garden club plant sale. if any have come up, i can't find them and i'm disappointed to not have these flowers this year as expected. for days now, i have been fighting the urge to go and dig some from that over-abundant spot. so isolated is this area that they'd hardly be missed. but the nature girl in me knows how wrong it is to transplant from the wild to a garden setting, even if it is on the edge of the woods. 

old nest

i spotted this from a distance, a dark mass at the uppermost branches of the bare tree. tucked high in a perfect crook, this abandoned nest. what kind of exceptional building skills must be holding it up there in this december wind and weather!

treasured

this old green cardboard strip glued with dried leaves is a bookmark the girl made for me when she was very, very small. i treasure this creation and have always used it to mark my place in whatever fictional work i'm reading.

and two weeks ago, i lost the book i've been reading - along with the bookmark. i looked everywhere for the book, retracing my steps, checking in stores and businesses, pulling up cushions and reaching under seats. tonight in desperation, i came close to sending a mass message out to all my friends to watch for it, please. but just now, just as i was readying for bed (and another book-less night) i thought where it might possibly be - and happily, there it was!

it seems a tad silly to be so elated to have found it! after all, the book is only worth $14.95 and i've already downloaded the audio version. but that bookmark - that's absolutely priceless!

walking the beach

lovely low tide walks are one of my favorite things to do here. interesting today to see how much the beach has changed since last summer. pictured here amongst the seaweed is a feat of nature i've not seen in a long time. it's an almost perfectly round sand collar, the egg case of a particular kind of moon snail. i hope this is an indication of what i might find on future walks!

my new "boat"

on the right, my old gravy boat from my favorite set of dishes. look closely and you'll see that the "boat" itself is riddled with surface crackling in the glaze and the accompanying plate is poorly held together in several spots with super glue. it's been in that condition for decades. often have i thought to replace it but it's a a bit pricey for the two times a year i serve gravy.

on the left, the identical gravy boat, brand new and purchased for a song at a local antiques shop. now i don't want to wait until thanksgiving to use it. so maybe i'll make strawberry sauce for ice cream!

silver surprise

over a month ago, i hurriedly bought a pair of pants in a department store chain. they're more casual than what i normally wear, so i never even took them from the drawer until this morning. i put them on, then sat outside with coffee to read the daily news. suddenly i felt poking in my backside. i reached behind me expecting to find an insect of some sort but instead found buttoned back pockets which i didn't realize existed - and tucked deep inside each pocket, a jewelry card with a sole silver earring attached.

i photographed the earrings as i thought about what to do with them. should i keep them? return them to the store? what good to them or to me is one earring of a pair? and it happened over five weeks ago!

what do you think? what would you do?