It Comes and Goes

 

I love this season of the year. Advent, with all its heart-focused preparations for Christmas, is deeply meaningful. Then there are the physical plans - considering gifts to make or buy for loved ones, filling the freezer with cookies and other treats, and decorating the house with lights and festive greenery. All this can add up to overly busy days.

On top of all the preparations, I want to feel Christmassy. I want to be excited about the season, to revel in the glow of lights, to find myself smiling throughout the day. I've learned, however, that feelings come and go, and to be okay with that. Christmas doesn't mean that frustrations, difficulties, and sorrows disappear. Indeed, sometimes hard things are magnified by the expectations of the season. Walking under the stars (or in falling snow), sitting quietly by the fire, hearing Christmas music in the stores, or just being content puttering away in my home are moments when that elusive "Christmas spirit" fills me with a measure of happiness. I am learning to be content with those moments, knowing that they will pass, but also that they will come again. 

This week I made Almond Crescents, a recipe from my mom. Not too sweet, but nutty and buttery - a lovely treat. Last night I packaged up cookies and treats and put them into small tins to share with friends. What fun that was!

We decorated the Christmas tree this week, always a real one. It's on the small side so I chose the most meaningful ornaments to hang on it - "Remember this one," he or I would say?

I'm mindful of the BeeGee's song lyrics 

"When I was small, and Christmas trees were tall..." 

"Now we are tall, and Christmas trees are small..."

And so the years are counted in stories told and memories cherished. And the happiness comes and goes. And that's just fine.

Christmas Inside and Outside

 

A recent walk took us to Tod Inlet where fog crept wraith-like along the shore, swirling up into the forest and down again. Sparse light filtered through the clouds, just enough to make silvery reflections on the old moss-covered pilings in the inlet. 

Nature's decorations - red berries touched with crystal-like water droplets. 

The new fireplace surround and mantel

Inside, a little bit of decorating is happening. We are having some work done on the house this next week and I don't want to put up a tree and other decorations only to have them coated with dust or have to remove them. By Wednesday we will be able to put the house back together. 

The old fireplace surround and mantel, last year at Christmas

Tim finished the fireplace update, diminishing the profile a little and putting in a more neutral porcelain tile in place of the black marble. Just now, as I sit in my chair, a fire glows and the lights shine in the gathering darkness. Red velvet cushions on the sofa add colour and coziness. 

It's a busy time of year - students are becoming restless, eager for the Christmas break - and teachers are not immune, either. School goes late this year, right to the 22nd. 

Here at home the baking has begun, with rugelach, shortbread, rum balls, and marshmallow roll in the freezer. Every day I read a little - this week I finished SJ Bennett's All the Queen's Men, a cozy mystery that takes place at the royal estate in Sandringham at Christmas. A great way to relax in the evening. 

And with you? How are things? 

Welcome December

 

December begins, and with it, preparations and celebrations. A week ago we attended a performance by The Tenors, a wonderful spectacle of music and light. It was fun to get dressed up a little and go out for the evening. 

Last month the family got together to celebrate a few birthdays. Our eldest granddaughter is cooking all kinds of delicious things these days and she made the cake for the party. It tasted even better than it looked. How grown up she is. This weekend there will be another get together to celebrate her birthday and that of her youngest cousin who just turned three. 

In the garden a rose bud slowly opens. We've had a mild and sunny November. Today, however, the sun has been elusive, peeking out once in awhile, but mostly hiding behind grey rain clouds. 

Teaching four days per week (that will end on Dec 21) is causing me some concern about getting ready for Christmas. I've decided that doing a little something every day will get me there. I've pulled the red and white dishes in the dining room, and will add some greenery in the next few days. 

There's a bit of sewing going on - the traditional pajamas for the grandchildren - and a wee bit of crafting. Much of the shopping is complete. 

Outside, I've filled the pots with greenery and holly sprigs from our garden. A wreath base is made and I'll hang that this weekend after adding some holly and rose hips. Baking is beginning - shortbread and rugelach to start with. 

I love this month of the year and want to savour the moments. Advent begins on Sunday, a time of waiting. Little by little the month opens towards Christmas, the celebration of Christ's birth. Longing, anticipation, quietness, joy, and busyness mingle in this month. I leave you with a quote by Diane Ackerman "December offers a banquet for the senses, and many chances to lose oneself in the plain deliciousness of life - all the sights and smells of the season, from wood fires to baking."

November Ends, December Begins

 

The excitement around our parts this week has been the weather. Snow fell thick and fast in some parts, but we saw just a wee bit that was gone by the late afternoon. Birds flew thick and fast to the feeder and the fig tree all morning looking for food. 

Here they are filling their faces - a male House Finch, a Dark-eyed Junco (also above), and behind, probably a sparrow. Cold weather is forecast for the rest of the week, with a possibility of more snow. Not a good weekend to be moving house, as our daughter and her husband will be doing.  

During these colder, darker days I've enjoyed reading Nigel Slater's The Christmas Chronicles, full of tasty tidbits of Christmas lore, comforting recipes, and thoughtful reflections on such topics as the scent of winter, about which he says, "But winter has its own smell: step outside on a frosty morning and you are smelling the cold." Two of our neighbours heat their homes with wood and I love seeing the neatly stacked chunks of wood, and smelling the wood smoke as it curls up from the chimneys. And often, in the evening, I will stand outside on the porch for just a few moments, breathing in the cold night air. 

Slater gives a recipe for a Fig and blue cheese salad full of crunchy apples and thinly sliced raw beets. I had no fresh figs, but added a few slivers of dried ones. In place of hazelnuts I used pecans. I love recipes that are adaptable. 

Cora turned two this week. When I gave her the bag with her birthday crown, she fished the crown out saying "My own crown" - she's been wearing her sister's from time to time. A Nana-made felt crown for a second birthday is another tradition. 

And so December begins. A busy month, if we let it be so. Slater says about Advent: "The point is sure more than a Christmas countdown, but a moment each day to stop and think of the more spiritual essence of the season. Maybe even to say a little prayer."

December can be such a busy time full of list-making and checking, of rushing from here to there with no time to enjoy the moments. At the end of the Christmas season, I find that what is remembered are the small moments: the mug of hot chocolate sipped while watching the snow fall, a particular piece of music, a game played with a child, the flicker of a candle on a grey morning, or a simple meal shared with friends. 

My intention this December is to slow down and create peaceful moments, and hopefully, wonderful memories to tuck away for the future. 

Advent Begins

 

The bright carpet of leaves under the acer tree is thick and colourful, even in the rain. It's thicker today as wind last night blew almost all of the leaves to the ground. Just a few stalwarts hang on to their branches. 

Each year before Christmas we plan an afternoon / evening of fun with our grandchildren. This year we had hoped to include the two youngest grands, but they were sniffling and coughing and everyone thought it best that they stayed home.

The three eldest cooked hot dogs over the fire outside in the light rain, then watched a Christmas movie while they ate, then decorated star-shaped cookie trees.

Before all that they created winter dioramas. Didn't they do a wonderful job? It was fun to observe their interactions and their unique ways of approaching the project. Tim and I prepared the frames (from shoe boxes) ahead of time, but they decided on the backgrounds, the lights, and all the decor items that we provided. 

Just before we drove them all home, they put on their new pajamas and had an impromptu dance in the living room. I'm a little sad about the poor quality of the photos due to inadequate lighting. 

And so it begins once again. Advent. The season of hope and longing. The season of preparation for the celebration of Christ's birth. 

Celebrations

 

Although the rain fell and the skies were oh, so grey, there was laughter and warmth inside as cousins, aunties and uncles, grandparents, and her immediate family celebrated sweet Cora's first birthday. 

She didn't know quite what to do with the cupcake (made by Auntie Katie), and daintily poked one finger into the icing and licked it. Eventually the icing was eaten and the cake left. She's not had much in the way of sweets until now, and may have missed her chance to indulge. 

Christmas decorating has begun, a little at a time. The first thing to come out is the walnut, hand-carved Nativity from Ecuador. There will be greenery added to the scene, but when the sun made a brave appearance and cast sharp shadows on the figures, I snapped a quick photo. 

Today is the first Sunday of Advent, and we light the candle of Hope. Flood waters rise again in the Fraser Valley near Vancouver. A new coronavirus variant begins to spread. Inflation climbs. Refugees flee oppression. Crime rises. For this time we need Hope and celebrate the coming of the Messiah, the Hope of this sad old world. 

Light in the Darkness

Four o'clock on Sunday afternoon and the curtains are drawn against the darkness while the lamps glow and the fire flickers. The second Sunday of Advent. One by one the days slip by as we move towards Christmas, the celebration of Jesus' birth, and the solstice, when the earth tilts once again towards the light. I think the early church fathers chose well when fixing a date to celebrate Christmas. 

This week I've sent off a few Christmas cards and completed most of my shopping. We tend to keep it simple, but I do enjoy giving gifts that I hope the recipients will appreciate. 

No tree yet, probably next weekend. We get a real tree and don't want bare branches by Christmas Eve. I also enjoy the slow unfolding of this season of longing and waiting. 

Last night we enjoyed the company of friends around the table. One of my favourite parts of having guests in is setting the table. I do it early in the day so that I have time to putter and arrange things. I used the burlap placemats made by my eldest daughter several years ago, the Christmas plates, and vintage damask linen napkins from my mother-in-law. Candlelight softens everything and adds such a warm light. I also sprinkled on table confetti in the form of small brass stars. I've had them for years and like that they are not disposable. 

Comments were mostly impossible on my last post, and I myself am not able to see the comments on the blog, although I can in Blogger itself, so I'm not sure what went wrong. Earlier posts are still fine, and I'm hopeful that it was a one-time glitch. Thank you to those readers who emailed to let me know. 

How are your plans coming along? I'm hoping to begin some baking this week, and we'll be celebrating a grandchild's birthday next weekend. 

Before the Party

Dust is banished. China and crystal gleam, waiting to be used. The fridge is bursting. An air of expectancy fills the house as all that's left is to wait. 

How do you feel before a party? Up until Wednesday, two days before the party, my mind whirled, my hand wrote lists, and I woke up at night thinking of something I didn't want to forget (even if it was on the list). 

By Wednesday I realized that everything that needed to be done, had been done, and the rest didn't matter. Last night I did a final dusting and vacuuming. We're ready. I like this stage of hosting big get-togethers.  

I was thinking that this time is a parallel, on a much smaller and insignificant scale, to Advent. We prepare, we count the days, we anticipate, and finally, we just wait until our guests come through the door. Joy fills our being as we welcome each one. Advent, of course, celebrates the coming of just one, so eagerly longed for that the party is held again and again each year.  

This morning I set out the dishes: a station for cold drinks, another for hot, the dining room table for the savouries, and the dry sink for the sweets. Hopefully this will keep people moving. Those little pink post-it notes on the platters? They are to remind me what's going on each one. I sorted that all out earlier this week. 

In the darkness between 8 and 8:30, the mantel lights glow and the fire throws cheerful warmth. Cushions are plumped and all is ready. 

Do I feel like going to teach classes today? Nope. I cope by compartmentalizing - once I'm out the door my mind focuses on school and home thoughts are left behind. 

Just one more thing - this sweetheart is 7 years old today! Happy Birthday, darling girl. Where did the years go?

Counting the Days

November in our parts was particularly grey and wet - 27 days included rain; most days saw little or no sunshine. How different December is: clear days when the sun slants low across the garden to brighten home and heart. 

I went out with my camera this week after school to capture a bit of the light. How surprised I was to see this Mountain Bluet (centaurea montana) with a new bloom. I gave the plant a little cheer and praised it for being so stalwart. 
  

Most of the hydrangea blossoms have faded to papery brown, but a little pale blue remains here and there.

From our breakfast table we look out over the patio to the garden. I plunked some fir trimmings and a few holly stems into a pot, and placed it on the table for a bit of Christmas cheer.

A few people have expressed interest in my grown-up girl's Advent calendar, so here's some information.

For our first child's second Christmas (she was less than 2 months old for her first Christmas), I stitched up an Advent calendar. We were living in a small town on the edge of the Amazon jungle and I was thinking about how to establish traditions with our little family. It was a simple affair, red cotton with a green print tree appliqued onto it, 24 little red pockets and felt ornaments. I think we used masking tape on the back of the ornaments for the first few years, until we returned to Canada for a visit and I bought some Velcro dots. 

Tim's mother made another Advent calendar, with larger pockets and a sturdy cardboard nativity scene with windows and Bible verses. These calendars played a big part in December. The children (3) took turns opening the window and reading the verse, applying the ornament to the tree, and looking in the pocket for a treat or a note telling of a special activity. This tradition continued until the last child left home.

There is grief when a treasured tradition is outgrown. Tim and I decided that we needed to create new traditions for "just the two of us". My grown-up girl Advent calendar is something I came up with after seeing an idea for a white calendar in Marie Claire Idees magazine. 

It was simple to make - an old picture frame painted white, a cut-to-measure piece of thin plywood covered with suede-like cloth, dates made from stenciled label tags, and upholstery tacks for hanging. The fun part was finding treasures to hang on the calendar. Most of them are visible in the photo, but here's a short summary:

For each Sunday of Advent I created cardstock tags with paper, glitter, and a printed Love, Joy, Hope, Peace. 
Old chandelier crystals
Tiny vintage glass ornaments and some new
Cream-coloured shapes created from a felted sweater and bits of lace and buttons
A tiny beaded angel
A muslin primitive angel
A vintage clip-on earring

I have some other bits and pieces of jewelry that I'm thinking of replacing some of these ornaments with.

Christmas decor is being brought out a little at a time here. How lovely this season is. 

Tell me, have you discarded some traditions and embraced others? 

First Sunday of Advent

For several years, I joined other bloggers in a link up entitled "A Pause in Advent." The blogger who hosted the link is no longer active. However, I love this season of reflection, of waiting and preparation, and hope to post a little Advent thought each week. 

I looked over some of my earlier posts about Advent and found these words,

I try to read something during my day that I can pull out of my brain at quiet moments. Recently, it was this, from the Celtic Book of Prayer, "Do you have only one minute? Hem it with quietness. Do not spend it in thinking how little time you have. God can give you much in one minute." 

Hemming a day with quietness takes some intention, along with exertion of my will. Can I ensure that I'll take those moments of quiet in place of doing something that will tick one more item off my list? We'll see. 

The five-year-old's parents went to a party today, so we got to spend the day with Miss S. Are you familiar with Jacquie Lawson and her beautiful cards? Each year, the company creates an interactive Advent calendar that is filled with activities, beautiful scenes, and snippets of information about Christmas. I've enjoyed them for several years, and send them to the grandchildren. Miss S was so intent on "crunching candies" and creating snowflakes today that the chocolate chip muffin she was given as a snack went mostly unnoticed. 

Saturday involved cleaning the pantry. Everything is neat and organized again, shelves wiped out, and a few out-of-date items discarded. It's all so neat looking that I had to take a photo. Saturday also involved hanging curtain rods and curtains. Tim did most of the work and complications meant that it took most of the day. What a husband!

We took the time on Saturday for a leisurely breakfast together. I found a recipe in the newspaper for French Baked Eggs with White Truffle Cream. I made a few adaptations and oh, was it delicious! A chocolate bread and mandarin orange completed the meal. I'll try and put the recipe on my food blog later this week.

Do you cook special breakfasts often? Ours are usually yogurt, frozen blueberries and granola (for him) and nuts (for me).

November was dull and rainy - 27 days out of the 30! Things are looking up for December, though - the sun shone today - hooray, and this evening the moon was full and bright.  

Linking with Mosaic Monday, hosted by Maggie from Normandy Life.

Winter's Chill

December 8. The darkness and chilly temperatures that signal winter has arrived, in spite of two weeks to go until winter is official. 

I've begun a little bit of food preparation for Christmas. Five things, in fact, to tie this post to Five on Friday. Spiced Pecans, seen above, Cranberry Orange Shortbread, Chocolate Marshmallow Roll, and Homemade Marshmallows. The fifth, Rugelach, is half-done - the dough is chilling in the fridge.

The paperwhites are emerging nicely, reaching up to the skylight in the entrance hall. These colder days have been sunny and that brightens up my spirits a lot.

This evening, Tim and I went for a walk. Toques, scarves, gloves and our heaviest jackets helped keep out the wind. How lovely to come home to a cup of hot chocolate, complete with homemade marshmallows floating on top. 

Linking with Five on Friday,  hosted by Amy of Love Made My Home. 

Slowing Down in a Season of Speed

My garden is getting ahead of itself. The hellebore is blooming well in advance. Shy flowers, dripping with rain, gaze at the ground and I kneel on the damp ground to photograph them. 

We've had two frosty mornings this week, separated by one day of rain. If the two weather systems collided, perhaps we would get the snow I wish for. 
Meanwhile, I venture outside just as the sun trudges reluctantly up the sky. Frost-edged hydrangeas draw my camera's attention.

In this season, where Nature slumbers, I keep a quiet Advent in my heart. Days are filled with lessons, recalcitrant students, sewing projects, and things I'd like to accomplish. How then, in the midst of busyness, do I hem my days with quietness? 

It's not easy when everything around me says, "do, do, do," and "rush, rush, rush." I make my lists, trying to be realistic about what I can accomplish, and I build in time to read, to sew, to go for walks. Yes, there will be things left undone, but the important work of waiting in hope as the days darken, as I wait for the Light, literally and spiritually, draws me irresistibly to quiet my heart, if not my hands.

The first week of Advent and the first day of December are nearly over. Each day is precious. Like my garden, each day can be quietly beautiful. 

Five glimpses of life here today for a linkup to Amy's Five on Friday.