Another Countdown

We began the Advent Wreath on Sunday.  On Tuesday, December 1, we'll start the countdown that all kids and kids-at-heart can relate to.

This days-to-Christmas hanging was made by my mom when I was DLG's age, about six.  She also made a tree skirt from felt.  Every now and then, when I'm looking for something in her crafting stuff, I run across the patterns she'd pulled from "Good Housekeeping" or "Ladies' Home Journal."

I haven't seen that tree skirt in years (miss it,) but when my mom was "down-sizing" her Christmas stuff (mostly getting rid of the tatty things I grew up with,) she found this and offered it to me.  I am a sentimental fool. The original bells were half-inch brass, tinted either blue, red, green or gold.  They seemed to glow.  But now they are faded and fewer than two dozen.  The small glass candy jar we'd deposit them in is long gone to some garage sale.

But I have accumulated exactly twenty-four 1" silver bells over the many holidays. A small candy tin will catch the bells now.  A bit of Modge-Podge to stiffen the yarn tips, and we're ready for another December!

The First Sunday of Advent

The first Sunday arrived and we were all at Mass.  The kids and I participated in Children's Liturgy of the Word.  Carl enjoyed Fr. Louis's homily.  We all sang.

This is the start of Liturgical Cycle C.  We will be hearing Gospels from the book of Luke.  Today's reading was Chapter 21: 25-28, 34-36.  Although the first reading from the Book of the Prophet Jeremiah told the familiar reassurance that the Lord "will raise up for David a just shoot," the Gospel anticipates the Christ's Second Coming, (not the first coming that Advent heralds.)

To be warned of "signs" and instructed to be "alert" by Jesus is not the happy-feely stuff we want out of our Christmas season, is it?  Didn't we just have all those old end-of-times readings with the end of Cycle B??  The readings are chosen, changed as necessary, to instruct.  The readings are not selected on a whim, but assembled to create a narrative for our spiritual lives, much like a writer carefully choose words and scenes.  Some years, we go straight to the Messianic anticipation, but this year, we are reminded that the birth of the baby is not the end-all-be-all, just like the festivities of Christmas Day are not all there is to celebrating our call to love one another.

The end of our lives?  Fleeting, considering the age of all time.
The end of time?  Inconceivable.

Helping provided weekend food for kids who rely on subsidized school meal?  Everyday.  Giving a smile when you have one, or accepting a smile when you don't?  Anytime.  Really listening to someone?  Do-able.

The best way to anticipate is not to fret about what will happen when "someday" gets here, but do all the good we can "today" so we're not caught unawares with all of our "might-have-beens."

Shop Small Saturday

I did not go out to shop on Black Friday.  It's just not my thing.

But I do like the "Shop Small Saturday" idea.  I bought a Collector's Draw Ticket from the Huntsville Art League, and I went to a few thrift stores.

(Yes, I went to Walmart, but it was a heavy duty utility shelf, faucet covers and AAA batteries, come on.)

(And I consider Krispy Kreme a boutique restaurant.)

I went to a few thrift stores.  At St. Vincent de Paul Thrift store, and bought 15 items of kids clothes and a Christmas sweater for me.  I visited the two Saving Way Thrift Stores in the north part of Huntsville, and I bought some crafty sorts of things.  And a book.

I admit. I don't recall ever having READ Charles Dickens's "A Christmas Carol," but I found it lovely and the illustrations charming.

But I still don't think I have enough Christmas books.

Keep Christmas in My Heart

My first true step to a little bit of Christmas year-round was the year I sent out this Hallmark card.  In addition to "The Velveteen Rabbit," I have a fondness for Teddy Bears.

There, tucked amid Victorian-style touches, the fuzzy sits and waits for its special child.  I liked this card so much that I framed and hung it up. What? I thought to myself, Only I will know that it's really a Christmas card.  At first glance it's a Teddy Bear and presents--- could be a birthday.

A couple of years later, I chose another Victorian-theme as my Christmas card.  I had to admit to myself, that I do try to live this very sentiment.

I do try honor Christmas in my heart.

I do try to keep it all the year.

I try to think of others.  I try to act with kindness.  I try to give without counting.  I try to like myself.  I try to love.  I try to discover joy.

I don't consistently succeed.

I get self-centered.  I speak thoughtlessly.  I hold unrealistic expectations. I turn despondent.  I become angry.  I hide from all, from myself.

But I try again.

Even Ebenezer got a fresh chance.  Every morning we get a fresh chance.

I try for Peace.  I try for Joy.  I try for Love.

Thankful

Carlos and I have been married for a year, plus a couple of weeks.

We spent today together, just us two.  It irked my mom a bit, but we wanted a quiet day of being grateful for each other.

(And since we are suffering from unplanned, horrid colds, I'm guessing everyone is thankful we're keeping it all to ourselves!)

"There once was a velveteen rabbit, ..."

and in the beginning he was really splendid."


Thus opens my favorite story of all time.  I CANNOT read it aloud, nor to myself, without crying.

Maybe "The Velveteen Rabbit" started my personal "Christmas creep." Margery Williams opens the story on on that very day:  "On Christmas morning, when he sat wedged in the top of the boy's stocking, with a sprig of holly between his paws, the effect was charming."

The first time I recall hearing this story was when my mom read it to me for a bedtime story. I was maybe seven or eight-- too old and capable of a reader for a story-- but she was reading to me.  I craved the attention.  The story was included in a two-volume treasury of children's stories & verse that had been given to me by my Babchu.

I cried as she read it; I cried because the little rabbit was ignored, then he was adored; I cried because he was real, yet no one else noticed; I cried because it looked as if he was to meet his demise, but he was transformed beyond that merest of existences.

I cried because I had my own "little rabbit" who was so very shoddily loved-to-bits, and if I ever lost her, I would be devastated.

I cried because I often felt un-real.

I was teased A LOT as a kid.  Sometimes I even felt unloved.  At my lowest, an angel would remind me who did love me and would miss me.  And knowing that I was REAL at least to one, that would get me through.

In college, during another low time, Tara sent me a Christmas present from Target: a plush Velveteen Rabbit, in a stocking with a sprig of holly between his paws.  David Jorgensen's illustrated version of "The Velveteen Rabbit" had just come out in 1990, and the story was captivating a new generation of parents and kids.  But I was just a lost 20-something unsuccessfully drifting through college;  Tara was just one of my best friends who wanted me to know I was loved and missed--- here's a cute from our favorite department store!

Oh, how cute he was!  When I was shopping at the Hallmark in downtown Auburn, I noticed that another artist, "Flavia" had her own take on the tale.  I bought her book, and an ornament of the rabbit wrapped in a quilt, the base stating, "Love makes you Real."

That's how it started.  I thumbed through bargain racks and used selections.  I found that many people had illustrated the story over the years.  Sometimes they edited it for younger readers.  Sometimes they updated the setting for the times.  Always, the message of the Skin Horse was the same.  Always, the little rabbit looked so eager to share love.

I collect versions of "The Velveteen Rabbit."  I find them "in the wild" to bring home.  (Again, none of this scrolling through eBay for me.)   I have 25 different printings of the story, a few A/V versions, three plush (not including my precious rabbit,) three figurines, and an assortment of ephemera-- the newest being programs and photos from Academy of Academics and Art's own version of "The Velveteen Rabbit."  (Wish I had a show shirt.)

"The Velveteen Rabbit" remind me that love does make us real.  At Christmastime, we Christians are reminded that Love Became Man, and real like us.

A Glass to the Season

I finally received my mom's china cabinet.  (Because she finally got her bigger one.)  This year, I can show off my grandmother's Noritaki china and my Arby's glassware.

Going to Arby's was a treat when I was a kid.  We didn't have one in Warner Robins; the nearest was in Macon.  Roast beef sandwiches with Arby's sauce, potato cakes, Jamocha shakes... yumm!  When Arby's started offering a glass-with-beverage-purchase, my mom made sure we got a set of the Saturday Evening Post ones, and the Coca-Cola ones.

Years and years later, while I lived in Auburn, Arby's started their Holly Berries series.  I fell in love.  As my budget would permit, I would buy that year's offering.  My collecting stopped when I moved in with my parents after college.  I don't think they had Arby's in Chicago.  Not that I had anywhere to show off my glassware.  By the time I was back on my own, Arby's was on to their Winter Scene pattern.  I was not interested.

I am, luckily, a thrift-store addict.  This is the time of year they haul out their Christmas donations, and I can usually find some more pieces for no more than the dollar they originally cost.  I'm attempting to acquire at least eight of each piece:  goblet, goblet with bow, contoured tumbler, tapered tumbler, parfait glass.  These are the ones I know of.  I thought there might have been a Irish coffee cup, but I could be mistaken.  I do have ONE coffee mug, but that might have been a limited market item.

Today I washed and stowed this season's purchases: eleven goblets with bows, one tapered tumbler.  I've passed on additional parfaits and goblets; I already have about ten of each.  I'm still on the look-out for five more tapered tumblers and four more contoured.  Yes, I could buy them on-line, but where's the fun in that?  Some people hunt with guns.  I hunt with $1s.

I find these beautiful--  the bright red & green, the dainty pattern scale, the subtle gold rim.    They make me happy.  Libby Glassware, who designed and produced them for Arby's, created several other "holly" style patterns for glass and ceramic; those patterns are in the same hue families, with similar art stylings.  Maybe after I complete my Arby-ware, I'll add in some cousin serving pieces, as well.

A toast, anytime, to Christmas joy.

Let's Call this Day 1

Hello, Bloggersville!!!


Yesterday was Sunday, November 22, 2015, and the last Sunday in Liturgical Cycle B 2015. Designated "The Feast of Christ the King," we wrap up the Church year.  For most Americans, who rarely attend daily Mass, the next time they come to church, it'll be a new year (Cycle C, 2016) and the First Sunday of Advent.  The "countdown" to Christmas will begin.

I'll have to admit, I'm becoming one of those people who "really like" Christmas.

I got excited way back in April when I got my Hallmark Dreambook for this year's ornaments.

I don't know when I started becoming one of those people.  Don't know how far it will go.  I'm certain that Carlos will put a stop to me when I reach his limits.  (We still de-decorate sometime between Epiphany and Ash Wednesday.)  But as I go there, I know I'll have plenty of good company.  (His mom feels the same way about Christmas.)

Maybe I've always been this way.  Maybe, as a middle-aged mom, I'm comfortable being me.  Or maybe I'm appreciating the wonder & joy of the season like I did when I was a kid.

Whenever, whatever, wherever, whyever and how,
I LIKE IT!


(Oooo, DLG just brought in the mail.  More stuff from Hallmark!  "Festive Snowflake Candy Dish"-- gotta' get it!  And the December Event circular with my bonuses!!!  "A Little Jingle" ornament!  Must get this one, too!!)



(I'm hopeless.)