Christmas Gift Guide

December hit and I painted my kitchen purple.  Earlier this week, I walked into the paint store knowing I had something dramatic up my sleeve and there I saw a shiny, glimmering sign displaying Benjamin Moore's color trends of 2015. I was sold!  I settled on cinnamon slate in record time and now, three days later I stand and can't help but smile at the comforting color of kings on my wall.  Apparently Advent was penetrating my subconscious. It feels so festive. Like the color of plum pudding.

Above are some titles that I am giving this year.

Gift again, and again

This one will find its way into the hands of my grandfather and Myles' teacher. It is the perfect gift for your lover of history and iambic pentameter. 

My Christmas spirit feels a little impeached at the moment actually. I just said goodbye to my dearest of childhood friends who was visiting for the night and day. She and her husband brought good cheer and company on a much needed rainy, gloomy Monday.  We discussed Housekeeping, and she doesn't think Sylvie is ill like I had written her off as.  I guess I will have to think a little bit harder. 

This week I must make good on some plans I have committed to. Remember the paper whites in the tins?  Oh yeah, and all that baking. 

Advent has Cometh

The pressures that come with the holidays overwhelm me at times. Creating family traditions and imprinting warm memories on one's children are probably at the top of the list.  I ask myself far too often, Will my children look back on these days with fondness or will they foremost remember a grouchy mother who overreacts at the least little bit of squabbling?

I gave an Advent speech last night to Myles and Fiona, and to Eric and I also, that as we have received the gift of peace, we must then give the gift of peace to those within our home and out.  It will be work, I said to be peacemakers this season. And even when we don't feel like it, we simply must. And then if that wasn't inspiring enough I threw in the threat that they wouldn't be able to hang their stockings if there wasn't cooperation to this vision. (I have been using this for years now, and the terror it can cause is rather astounding.)

In my desperation to foster contentment and gratitude throughout our home, I will resist the urge to reinvent the tradition wheel. We will open the doors of our Advent calendar. We will read the liturgy, and light candles. We will build fires, and we will bake. We will read books, and books, and then bake some more. And hopefully throw a party.

I also plan on taking a cue from my mom, who would give beautifully planted paperwhite bulbs in galvanized tins to all her neighbors and relations. I will do this ahead of time, so it is done with joy, not panic.  Picture me raising my right hand here.

Monday Scenes

One down.

 Two to go.

It was my feeling that every girl needs a little over-the-top Christmas vignette skirt, complete with a train loaded with toys.  Hmm... maybe not, but you know what I mean.

And sometimes you just need a good ole' lift the flap book.  A break from the two dimensional can certainly hit the spot.

Resurrection of the Ordinary

Yesterday afternoon marked the end of a time period that brought our family's level of activity to new heights. Heights never to be repeated again. It was full in a good way, and also a not so good way. Halloween came and went. Parties came and went. Bat origami came and went, accruing only a few grey hairs along with an insult or two. (A boy in Myles' class declared at a high decibel that the homemade cinnamon pretzels that I had slaved over were, "Gross!") I smiled back warmly, proving that I have come a long way.

Daylight savings time took its toll, but the prospect of long, cozy evenings by candlelight is a greatly welcomed thought. We had our first fire yesterday, and it felt so nice to be inside and sheltered. It is easier to be thankful for things when you are sitting in front of a fire.

Housekeeping cast it's spell on me this weekend too. I am reading this book across the miles with friends, and I couldn't believe that I was able to put my hand on the copy that I had found in a used, Cambridge book store with my mother several years ago.  She loved this book and after many false starts, I am determined to read it all the way through.

November is a birthday month in our family. My mom would turn fifty-nine next week and little brother Nathan is on the brink of thirty. Not to mention Grandfather West and cousin Claire.  It is also about this time that we pick up, Little House in the Big Woods.  Even if its just for a few chapters.  One first meets Laura right in the middle of this glorious season, and it is such a lovely read to hear of the attic filling with squashes and pumpkins and onions and cheeses.

I can also begin to enjoy the upcoming season knowing that I have beat the rush to Ikea for its choicest of holiday items before everything is picked over.   I am putting these ornaments away for just a few short weeks until I will need them again!

Happy November everyone. :)