It's beginning to look a lot like....

It's Christmas time!!!!!

Hearing Bells

The Bell Ringers are out. It wouldn't be Christmas time without them. As they are arriving earlier and earlier each year means, of course, that the holiday juices get flowing sooner and sooner for me. I don't mind. It just means more time to bake and sew and wrap and deck. My kind of thing anyway.

When I saw my first bell ringer this year we were on the Downtown Mall buying an cookie, a Friday tradition for the kids and I. I pulled out my change and told Briton and Evelyn to go toss it in. And off they went to the street musician, right past the bell ringer. When they got back (after Evelyn had had a little dance to the music) I sent them off with more change, the last I had on me, to the right person this time.

"But why?" Briton asked as we walked to the Library. Oh Briton, that's a story you're going to hear for the rest of your life. In fact, I'm sort of surprised, and saddened, that he didn't remember from years past. He is a boy though, and seven, so I'll cut him some slack and tell it yet again. Because he needs to know. And so do his children. And theirs. It's a family tradition after all.

I was going to tell you all the story too but, after getting my dad to send the column he wrote about it when I was about Briton's age and reading through it again to get my facts straight I realized that I could never tell it as well as he does. So here you go. And if you would, drop a coin in the next bucket you see. Or buy the ringer a cup of coffee, or if, in this economy, even that is beyond your means, give them a smile. Have a Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

Mom Never Forgot that Cup of Tea
By Clyde Bentley
Coeur d'Alene Press 1987


The tiny bell rang out for Christmas coins. But for Mom, it also jingled up memories of the best of mankind amid the worst of inhumanity.Few things mark Christmas more for me than the sight of a red pot hung from a tripod and the sound of a little bell rung incessantly by a Salvation Army volunteer.

Some of my earliest memories are of wondering why the lady in the dour uniform insisted on driving everyone on the main street of my hometown crazy with the ringing. Even more amazing was that my mother could not pass that red pot without digging through her enormous purse for the change that migrated to the farthest corner.

Mom didn’t just drop a coin or two in the pot. A big, boisterous Englishwoman, she stopped at every Salvation Army bivouac she ever came across to give the volunteer a little pep talk. More often than not, she broke out in a spontaneous and embarrassingly loud rendition of “Jingle Bells”.I just passed it off as parental insanity and slunk behind the nearest streetlight lest any of my friends happened by.

One Christmas after I had passed into that black hole of cynicism – adolescence – I decided to put an end to all this nonsense.

“If you are going to give them money, Mom,” said the all knowing I, “why don’t you just write a check? Then you can get it over with and have a receipt for your taxes.”

At Christmas time, Mom was more ebullient than Scrooge the morning after. But my suggestion caused a gray pallor of Christmas past to wash over her. She quietly sat down to explain.

My mother grew up in a large family in a working class London neighborhood. Her childhood was full of all those wonderful British street urchin adventures with which Dickens and Masterpiece Theater regale us.Except for the maniacal vision of a certain German fellow with a small, bristly moustache, she would have grown up into one of those plump, sarcastic matrons who populate “Andy Capp”.World War II turned Mom’s picturesque life upside down. The double-decker bus my grandfather drove became an ambulance, my grandmother was issued a helmet and a bucket of sand to patrol for incendiary bombs, and Mom found herself celebrating her 17th birthday wearing an RAF uniform.

During that time of terror, she said, the Salvation Army offered Londoners a tangible link with more peaceable times. When the Blitz made street corners unsafe, the dark-cloaked soldiers of God took their brass bands down into the air raid shelters for concerts accompanied by bomb blasts. She recalled how many families who returned to surface to find their once-neat homes reduced to rubble counted on the Salvation Army for food and shelter.

Later in the war, Mom was transferred to a unit in North Africa. Although they were supposed to staff a secure air base she and her fellow WAAFs spent weeks dodging from desert town to desert town as Rommel kept the Tommies at bay.

The Brits were at a low ebb when they pulled into a particularly desolate Algerian village. The heat, the dust and the strange environs constantly reminded them that Piccadilly Circus was an eternity away.

To Mother’s everlasting surprise, a very un-African sight greeted them as the trucks pulled to a halt. Two Salvation Army members in full uniform had set up a table and greeted each airman and airwoman with a hot cup of tea and those buttery cookies the English insist on calling biscuits.

“It was as if they had brought a bit of home to us,” Mom told me. “It was amazing – two little old ladies out in the middle of the desert.”

Mom said she never found out what became of those dedicated ladies. Every Christmas, however, she expressed her earnest thanks to their bell-tinkling descendants.

I never again chided her for singing “Jingle Bells.” I’ve puzzled a few bellringers, however, with my words as I dropped coins into the pot.

“Merry Christmas, Mom.”

Candied Orange Peel

So yesterday I mentioned that I had candied orange peel strips cooking away on the stove and today I was able to get them just about finished, they still have some more drying to do but for the most part, they are officially candied.

I've never candied anything in my life. At least not that I can remember. But I have this fantasy that one day I will candy all the fruit necessary to make my annual batch of fruit cakes (which reminds me, I forgot to buy boxes for those things today, darn!!) I will probably never be organized enough to get all the cherries and lemon peel and pineapple and odd little bits and pieces of things that are red and green and sweet candied that I would need, but a girl likes to dream.

The recipe for these comes from the River Cottage Handbook #2, which is all about preserves and is my cookbook de jour (even though it's pretty much past time to preserve anything, I still enjoy reading jam and chutney recipes, laugh, go ahead) Having fallen in love with the River Cottage Family book and in like with the River Cottage Cookbook, I was pleased to see that this handbook is just as good, if not better, than the others. If you have any interest in making jam, I highly recommend it. It's not as exhaustive as the giant Stocking Up tome that I have been using (circa 1975) but since a lot of what is in that is beyond what even I would be interested in preserving, I think the handbook is a better bet for the every day jammer.

Candied Orange Sticks adapted from the River Cottage Handbook #2

4-5 large oranges
2 cups of granulated sugar (500 g)
Water

Run a knife around the oranges so the peel is split into quarters. Carefully remove the peel from the orange in whole, quartered pieces, a spoon inserted under the peel helps if they seem to be ripping. And really, you can use them ripped into little chunks if you want, they just wont be sticks, they'll be chunks.

Slice the peels into thin strips and put them in a heavy bottomed pot with enough water to cover. Bring the water to a boil then reduce to a simmer for 5 minutes. Drain completely then add fresh water to just over half covering the peels. Bring to a boil, reduce to a simmer and cook, covered, for 45 minutes (stir every once in a while or you'll end up with blackened bits like me :)) Add the sugar and stir until dissolved, put the lid back on and simmer another 30 minutes. Turn off the heat and leave the whole thing for 24 hours.

The next day, bring to a boil again, reduce to a simmer and cook uncovered 30 minutes or until the liquid is a thick syrup. Remove the strips of peel with tongs onto a wire rack (with a drip pan beneath) and allow to dry 24 hours or, if you're impatient like me, pop them in the oven at your lowest setting (170 for me) for 2-3 hours.

I tossed about half of mine in granulated sugar to see which I would like better. The plan is to dip these in chocolate closer to Christmas for gifts. If they make it that long. They are yummy little snacks.

The leftover syrup is pretty tasty to, I added a little to a jar of vodka that I have soaking with a lemon and sugar on my windowsill and mixed the rest with the same amount of honey which, by the way, was divine dribbled over a chunk of Stilton with apricots for a little late afternoon pick-me-up. In fact. Even if you don't want candied fruit, I'd say it's worth it to boil a few orange peels in sugar and water just so you can mix the syrup with honey for your cheese eating pleasure. That good. I'm tellin' ya.

Now, I'm off to make a Pumpkin Pie for tomorrow's festivities. I hope everyone out there has a very happy and tasty Thanksgiving!

Let the Holiday Chaos Begin

Things are looking a little crazy around here these days. I feel like I've got projects in various stages of construction all over the place. There are felt trees waiting to be stuffed and closed in a pile on the sofa, another coated with glitter drying by the back door. A pot full of orange peel strips halfway through the candying process on the stove. And Advent Calender halfway assembled on my desk. A bag full of fabrics and garlands and ribbons in the mudroom waiting for Friday to come along so they can be tied and draped and wrapped. Not that it will all be ready by then, but it does seem a little like I've got a thousand things waiting at the starting gate that is the day after Thanksgiving. And then there's the turkey that will be arriving with the groceries (Oh Retail Relay how do I love thee) in the next hour or so and really, no where in the fridge to put it. And of course, being me, I stopped in the middle of all of it today to try my hand at making a necklace.

I've never been a big beader jewelry maker type of person. I don't have the hand-eye coordination to deal with things that small. They just frustrate me. But last night I was at Michael's (by myself no less, good thing too since there were 9 people in line and one cashier who was on the phone being talked through ringing up a sale, fun) and I wandered into their new jewelry making aisle.

As I stood there looking at strings and strings of beads I found myself reaching out and grabbing a few. Earlier in the day I'd flipped through a catalogue and took a fancy to this necklace, or at least the style of it. I'm really more of a scarf and/or bracelet person. Necklaces have had a tendency to be yanked and broken by little curious fingers. But every once in a while I like the idea of something funky and pretty to string around my neck. Not $59 funky, I don't love it that much, but for a few dollars worth of beads and ribbon, well, that I could do.

It was fun, and pretty much a no brainier project. I'm not sure I'll ever become a big necklace making diva, but for a quick little afternoon project, it was just the ticket. Now excuse me while I go stuff some felt Christmas trees. T-3 days and counting.

Christmas Wreath #1

Yes, Number one. Although it may turn out to be number only given how long I spent on it and the fact that I'm not out of the Christmas ornament and foam balls that I though would stretch to two wreaths at least. I would like to have one for each of the windows at the front of the house, one for the window on the end and one for the door. But we shall see. I do have a few ideas about some quicker styles. I know I know, I'm a little nuts.


I haven't re-made Christmas decorations for ages. In fact, I cant really remember when I made a whole slew of things for Christmas other than the year we were without ornaments and had to make enough for a whole (although very small) tree. Our tree will be it's usual hodge podge of hallmark ornaments, and I wouldnt have that any other way, but doors and mantles and table and shelves are all waiting to be decked. I've been living ina fairy world thinking that Christmas is still far away, but then Will reminded me that our tree hunting trip would be THIS FRIDAY> ACK! Thanksgiving isn't even here and I'm BEHIND ALREADY!

So today I dug in. I've got fabric cut for some mantel things that will get sewn over the next few evenings, a list started of what I still need (candles, ribbon,some kind of treeskirt, wrapping paper that matches, - yes a little OCD I know, but it's so pretty that way!) and now, one wreath down.

I know the ornament wreath is all the rage this year. It seems to be everywhere and don't get me wrong, I like it, I just wasn't ready for string that many shiny breakable balls together to hang on my oft-slammed ( I have kids after all) door. Padding is required. Which is how I arrived at the felt, ribbon and or yarn covered foam balls mixed with the classic ornaments.

It didn't turn out to be the fastest project I've done lately, but it wasn't terrible. And it wasn't the assembly that took so long, it takes a long time to wrap enough yarn around a foam ball so no white shows through. And then there was the ornament that I broke and the one(s) I dribbled glue all over (see the ribbon wrapped around the ornament, yeah, good thing for extra ribbon).

Between the wreath now safely hanging above my desk in the mudroom (if you can call it that at this point-but that's a whole other issue), the pile of wood sitting next to the fireplace and the big box of gifts that just arrived in the mail I'm having a hard time concentrating on the fact that I still need to get Thanksgiving dinner in order. I don't suppose Will would be ok with just skipping over the rest of this week and starting Christmas a little early.

The Owl and the Pussycat, well, just the Owl for now

Not that I can really say I love that poem, but it does get stuck in my head. And for some reason, I find myself intrigued by folksy owls these days. So after my successful freezer-paper-as-stencil project earlier int he week, I thought I'd give it another go and revamp my library bag.

Actually this bag is more than my library bag, it's also my taking my computer to the gym bag and my I need some way to tote all my junk bag. The problem is that it's kinda ugly. Will's grandfather gave it to me when we visited them earlier this fall in Kentucky. As with all grandparents, we generally leave with more than we came, and this time the bag was part of the pile heaped in our car. As it turns out, it's the handiest bag I've had in a long while. Pockets in just the right spots, handles the right length, fits my computer or a slew of books or my gym clothes or sometimes even all of that at once. So despite the fact that it says "Paducah Technical College" on one side, I've been carrying it around a lot lately, with the words facing in that is.

I had thought about funning it up before, but couldn't think of what to do with a sort of vinylish big pocketed bag that would make it look good without taking it out of commission for very long, because I NEED it. I cant be bagless while it gets cross stitched (as if I have the patience for that anyway) or hand appliqued (again, like I have the patience) and using a sewing machine was out due to the size of the opening. But when the freezer paper thing panned out, well, I figured how bad could I screw up a stencil? So I took the plunge.

Now I wasn't brave enough to attempt something in a totally different color, just in case the paint wasn't as opaque as it needed to be, so what ever it was, it was going to be blue. And a blue owl? Well, why not, Probably better than the blue hedge hog I started off with. The eyes ended up freehand because I didn't want to try to iron over the paint and I think I may add some kind of texture, maybe with Modge Podge or more paint, but maybe not. For now I'm just happy to have a bag that doesn't advertise a college I didn't go to in a town where I don't live. Woo hoo to freezer paper. I'm thinking tee-shirts might be next...

Rainy Days

Generally I like the rain. I even love it some days. I've lived a lot of my life in rainy places but really, Virginia rain is something else entirely. The night we moved here, within minutes of landing at the airport just out of town a downpour began that was harder than I've ever seen in my life. It didn't rain, it didn't even pour, it DRENCHED. It soaked and flooded and just the dash from the car to the door of the hotel was enough to soak us through. I remember that Briton asked sleepily as we tucked him into the bed if we could go to the park in the morning. No, I told him, everything would be muddy and wet in the morning, but maybe in a few days when things had dried out.

Much to my surprise and Briton's delight, the morning dawned hot and totally dry. After years of living in rain soaked lands I almost thought I'd dreamed the storm the night before.

In the two and a half years since then, I've gotten pretty used to the torrential rain that sometimes thunders down upon us, but sometimes, even I get fed up when the rain pours so hard you cant even go out to get the mail.

Today was one of those days. Evelyn and I made a dash for it to hit the gym (me) and the playzone (her) but after that we spent a lot of time inside just hanging. After a while though, even Playdoh and Sleeping Beauty lost it's charm and we still had an hour before the bus run.

I started this project a few weeks ago but got distracted and didn't finish (bad mama) so today seemed like the day. The best part about this was that Evelyn could help me make it, and then she could play with it. And what else is better on a crummy day than a new toy, right?

If you don't happen to have four plain wooden blocks just lying around (and who does really, I bought these at the craft store just for this project, because I'm nuts like that) see if you can dig up four alphabet blocks. The irony is that if I'd started this a few weeks earlier (ie, before I went a little crazy cleaning out bins in the basement) I too would have had alphabet blocks. That's just the price I pay for having obsessive cleaning binges.

Anyway, my kids have always loved puzzle blocks. We bought our first one on a trip to Paris when Briton was two and it kept him busy for HOURS while Will and I ate in cafes, gazed at paintings and generally enjoyed ourselves. But for something that kids seems to love so much, they're not as common as you might think. We've gathered a few more through the years, but not a lot.

So there I sat one day, clearing out a bunch of old High Five magazines that had been loved to death and I realized that some of the pictures would make great puzzles, and even better, great block puzzles. And if I was going to make a block puzzle, why not throw in some family photos as well, just for kicks.



Trace around the blocks while they are centered on the photo or picture and then trim carefully along the lines.





You want to err on the side of small or you'll get bumpy edges (see those edges, not fun, kids like to peel bumpy edges. Now I know better though)

Then apply with Modge Podge, one coat under the paper, another coat or two on top. Easy Peasy. One tip, don't let your kids play with them before they dry. In fact, you might want to hide them until they are dry, otherwise they start looking a little ratty right off the bat. But nothing that another coat of modge podge couldn't take care of.