The Warmth of Love

Dear Friends,

Every day during the busy holiday season I look forward to reading cards and catching up on the goings on of good friends and family. Thank you, thank you for all your many kindnesses. Thank you dear herbal friend Nancy Heraud, Lemon Verbena Lady, for the unexpected trove of glorious, jewel-like jellies and jams. Nothing is better than something cooked or crafted with love.

How can it already be time to unpack our family treasures from the old green blanket chest? It feels like I tucked our favorite ornaments away only a few weeks ago, but it has been a year. The first things to come out are always our old stick sheep from the beginning of the 20th century.

Our old German stick sheep line the mantel. When the horrible San Simeon earthquake hit us in 2003, the sheep were all hurled across the room and onto the floor. Many of their ears are broken and legs are wobbly, but they've been a part of my life for almost 40 years. The children expect them to watch over our family.

The handmade Edwardian hat-topper is now our tree-topper. Imagine wearing a hat big enough to support a ten inch squirrel. I found this in an antique shop I always loved. Do any of you remember Millie Fairie's fabulous store in Cambria? I'll never forget it. I think I bought this guy about 35 years ago.

This little snowman (smaller than my pinky finger) is about 100 years old, and he is one of my all time favorites. 

Mary Margaret Klug stitched the Christmas hearts, my daughter in law made me over a hundred origami paper birds, my friend David Krause made the tiny walnut basket in the lower left. It has a gingham table cloth and is filled with berries. I included his walnut basket in my first book, Sunflower Houses, so this basket is over twenty four years old.

An early, clip-on glass bunny.

A tiny cotton Santa and above his left shoulder is the ferry boat that traverses the sea between Anacortes and Orcas Island where we once had a tiny cottage. Waiting for the ferry was always so exciting.

This is as close as Jeff will get to having the sailboat of his dreams!

Or maybe this is! This red canoe is in honor of the one we have in Maine. This canoe topped my 50th birthday cake and now always sits in a place of honor in our tree.

The little clip-on chicken is one of my favorites. I think it is from the early 20th century.

Corny as it is, the Santa face ranks near the top of beloved keepsake memories. This is actually a half of a mussel shell, which has been painted with Santa's face. Our friends in the Brewer family took us out for a memorable boat ride and picnic at the tiny Burnt Island Lighthouse out of Boothbay Harbor. I bought some of these from the girls who lived out there and tended the island. When I hang these on the tree, I smell the aroma of the firs, the sound of our feet scrunching through the shell-strewn pathways, and I see the play of clear Maine light across the blue, blue waters of the bay. 

I'm a sucker for little holiday stockings.

An old, clip-on bird ornament was a gift from Susan Pendergast, who also made the string/garlands of old glass ornaments. Another few origami paper birds. I love their flight across the branches.

I treasure all the handmade ornaments sent to me by Suzanne, Down in the Meadow, all the way from South Africa.

Out come the old Christmas quilts and the memories of blazing sunshine over vast fields of antiques in Maine, Massachusetts, and Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. And the stockings from Christmas Cove Designs, which Jeff and I will fill with small gifts for each grand.

And five little socks to be stuffed for the faerie mailboxes out in our garden. I know that the more grown-up grands are shaky about their belief in the garden faeries, but they still go out to check their mailboxes and many times find fanciful gifts tucked inside them.

So now the stockings are stuffed, the tree is finally hung with the memories of our lives, and we await the arrival of family and friends, which is really what this season is all about.

I send love across the miles, and remember, the days are already beginning to lengthen; they're loping toward spring time. Holiday blessings and the warmth of love to you all.

Believe me dear friends, one doesn't need to grow up!

LUCKY US! Timber Press sent an offer for a give-away copy of Marta McDowell's new book about Beatrix Potter's Gardening Life. This is a must read for anyone who loves Beatrix and for anyone who loves a garden. This book is amazing! Be the lucky winner, just leave a comment on this blog posting. If you're an anonymous commenter, please check back to see if you've won Marta's book.

Remember, don't grow up!

Happy Holidays!

Sharon

Tasha Tudor Wings her way to Suzanne in South Africa

Our Christmas brunch is always graced by this wonderful syrup pitcher from talented potter-artist Julie Whitmore. Check out her blog and her etsy site for some of her amazing work. If you see something you like, act quickly, her works disappear from the site almost immediately. 

And the winner is...

Good bye dear Tasha book, but I must say, you're flying into a great, new, life-filled home with lots of joyful activities and children. You'll be well used and well loved by Suzanne from the fabulous Down in the Meadow blog. Her name was pulled out of a basket with 140 other hopefuls, but Suzanne it was and off Tasha goes. I think this couldn't happen at a better time for Suzanne. Last week her home was struck by lightning. Nobody was hurt, but her computer and all her addresses, etc., were blitzed. Please drop her a line and establish contact again. Suzanne please send me your mailing address.

Holiday Joys and the invisible thread of family traditions

Sara's faerie mailbox was visited by the Christmas faeries who filled this mini sock with treats. The miniature socks are available from Christmas Cove Designs in Maine. They also made all our large stockings. I always add a little bell to the toe. Faerie voices!

The faeries filled Mo's sock, too.

My dear friend Marilyn (from Maine) sent me this wonderful Bodleian Press advent calendar. We have an advent calendar every year, but this is my all time favorite. I'm saving it for next year, too. This is such a simple tradition for the children, but they anticipate the calendar every year and take turns opening the windows each day.

How wonderful it is to share the holidays with children. I enjoy every minute of their excitement and discoveries. This will be a short post as I have more family arriving this afternoon and lots of cooking to do in preparation.

I haven't finished setting the Christmas eve table, but look at the crop of wheatgrass! I will have a healthy, thriving garden this year if the French fable is true (which I am sure it is).

What would I do without my Julia and Jacques Cooking at Home cookbook? This is their tried and true pork roast on a bed of apples. I pat the room temp roast with salt and pepper and a mixture of my homegrown herbs de Provence, then sear the meat, and nestle it onto the apples. The apples have salt and pepper and a couple of tablespoons of brown sugar sprinkled on them. This cooks for an hour at 350 degrees and comes out moist and perfect.

Cookies on a platter.

Just like clockwork, the old Christmas cactus burst into pale fireworks.

Candles are lit, the little tree glows with tiny lights, Christmas music fills the rooms, but the children can't venture in to shake packages or squeeze their stockings until after supper is finished. Delightful torture. I remember how excited I always felt at my Nonie and Bopie's home each Christmas eve.

Each of us has a long, hand knit stocking, that hangs by the chimney. I spend hours finding and wrapping small things to fill them to overflowing. The tip of the toe always holds a miniature glass log cabin filled with Maine (of course) pure maple syrup.

I  buy these from Maine Gold. My grands adore them. Asher, our 9 year old, arrived one February cradling the little syrup in his hand. "I want to have breakfast for dinner," he said, "and I brought my own maple syrup."

What are Sara and Mo doing? They're looking for a long, long gold thread, which will lead them to a special hidden gift. This treasure hunt along the thread is always exciting and lovingly anticipated.

See the thin, golden thread beside Mo? I loop it around legs of furniture, go up and down steps, over books, and finally, after he has searched and giggled his way along the line...

...he traces the thread to its hide-out inside the Amish cupboard.

Sara follows her gold thread through four rooms and ends up peeking into the little blue chest in the entry hall.

Anticipation (and simplicity) makes this such a sweet tradition.

Christmas morning brunch usually features a vanilla, cinnamon, and nutmeg laced french toast made of brioche or challah (of course, the Maine maple syrup is liberally applied to it).

On Christmas eve Jeff brought me a special and unexpected gift, which he picked up with the last of our cards and other mail. "Here is a great gift," he said as he handed it to me.

Yes, it was a great surprise and a very special gift, but nothing, and I mean nothing, was as great a gift as having my family and friends here for the holidays.

Until next time (and next year),

Sharon