Holiday Blessings

This is the time of year when memories flow through me like a clear mountain stream. I love the traditions of the holiday season, and my greatest joy is tending them the way a gardener tends her herbs.

What are holidays without baking? Sara May and I spent time together this week baking cookies. Without any prompting from me, she made a faerie-sized platter of tiny cookies and tucked them into her faerie mailbox to share with our tiny garden visitors.

Sara and her Amma baking cookies

Freshly baked cookies for the faerie...

...tucked into her faerie mailbox

Out come the Christmas Cove Designs hand knit stockings from Maine-one for each child. Four miniature stockings will magically appear on the faerie mailboxes on Christmas morning, stuffed with tiny whimsical gifts.

I remember how each Christmas Eve I searched my grandparent's tree for three things that always hung from the lower limbs. A bright red apple, which honored my Bopie's best friend Bob Lee. A potato, and I can't remember who that was for (but it could've been me), and a carrot, the favorite vegetable of my Bopie's brother.

Edwardian Squirrel

Since my grandparents passed, I've kept that tradition alive, along with some of my own. At the top of our tree is a glass eyed Edwardian squirrel who once decorated a fancy lady's hat, but now reigns supreme over our celebrations. A hundred paper origami cranes, a symbol of peace, were hand folded for me by my daughter-in-law. The multi-colored birds perch happily on every branch of the tree. An old clip on chickie, an early 1900's Santa, a birdhouse my husband made from a walnut, and a Santa Claus painted mussel shell from Burnt Island, Maine, are all keepsakes of many Christmases past.

Walnut bird house and origami crane ornaments

Mussel Shell ornament from Burnt Island, Maine, off the coast of Boothbay Harbor

I'm sick in bed today and missing a much anticipated gathering at the home of a special friend talented illustrator Stephanie Roth Sisson and her husband Fred. I'll take this missed opportunity as a time to wrap stocking stuffers and a time to reflect on the blessings I've been granted–a good family, dear friends (and that includes YOU, my invisible, but ever present blog friends), good health (today excepted), the love of simple pleasures, and the ability to make a living doing something that gives me joy.

Thank you all for your enduring friendship (that includes YOU, Eleanor, friend for 40 years)!

Faretheewell,

Sharon

Post Thanksgiving Tranquility

Post-Thanksgiving Kitchen

"Things taste better in small houses."

Queen Victoria (1819-1901)

Phew! The flour settled in drifts on the floor. Gravy splattered the wall behind the old stove. Dishes were stacked in haphazard piles on every flat surface in the kitchen. Leftovers filled all the refrigerator shelves, but the day was memorable and filled with love.

My husband Jeff and my brother and sister-in-law all pitched in to help cook our family's Thanksgiving meal, and although we were tired beyond belief at the end of the day, it was all worth it. The four of us crammed into my little kitchen, prepped, chopped, spiralized, tossed, whipped, sauteed, seared, baked, roasted, and finally, voila, a memorable family meal around the long farm table.

I loved it when my 7 year old granddaughter Sara said that she was "grateful that our family is together today." And I loved it when 2 1/2 year old Moses picked up his long stemmed water glass (yikes, was he going to spill it?) and clanked it into his Dad's glass and said, "Cheers." (Which we all did).

Today the house is empty. The flour dust is vanquished, the gravy scoured from the wall behind the stove, the dishes are back on their shelves (my Great Great Gran's gravy boat and blue willow platter made it safely through their 100th plus Thanksgiving), and the turkey soup simmers quietly, or as the French say, "smiles" in the pot.

I've been thinking a lot about the traditions that make Thanksgiving so meaningful for me and my family, but I'm also interested in what traditions are meaningful to others. I'd love to hear your stories, your traditions. Hopefully I will be able to incorporate you and yours into a holiday story for next year.

In this quiet time, I'm going out to harvest my 'Painted Lady' runner beans and take down their tepee. I'll plant my beloved California wildflowers, and read, read, read whenever I am indoors. Tonight will be turkey-alphabet soup, a fire, and yikes, I'll just have to admit it, I'm making lists for Christmas and wrapping stocking stuffer gifts.

Tranquil times to you!