Before the Long Dark

November is decidedly upon us, with its colour scheme of grey and brown, its withering and fading away of colour. As we get the last of the wood in, set more mousetraps, and prepare to nestle in for the winter, getting outside to play in rubber boots and sweaters takes on a new urgency. Yesterday we had a spontaneous lunch in the potting shed, with milky tea, cheese and crackers, salsa and chips, and some homemade ginger crackle cookies (will share recipe next week!). We enjoyed the warmth of the sun through the windows, the ease of running in and out without the armour of snow-clothes, and the pleasure of each others' company.

Irish-farmer-Jude.

Bengal Spice Tea.

Margot's inevitable spillage...

This window seat is a perfect fit for this little body.

Now and again I need the reminder to make hay while the sun shines, as they say, and just go out to PLAY...the imminent winter is a good enough excuse (if one was needed!) to get out and enjoy the last days of Autumn.

Remembering

When I'm asked where I learned to sing, I reflect on my childhood. My parents were both very involved in community volunteering. Mom usually had us kids in tow, so we all started singing in the church choir at an early age. Gathering to sing for the residents of our local nursing home was part of the expectation of being a choir member, and I knew lots of old songs by the time I was 10.

We recently gathered once again at the newly-built retirement home where my Grandma is a resident, to join in the monthly singalong.

The kids think that the retirement home is "GG's House"...they love it, and all her "roommates"! 

They are always delighted to see "GG's pets": two lovebirds, and some goldfish!

This lady taught kindergarten to all three of my siblings. She still thinks Kindergarten is the best place to be, although she's retired. Now she shares her musical gifts with the elderly residents of this retirement home, playing good old-fashioned tunes like "Our Golden Wedding Day", and "Pack Up Your Troubles". She inspires me with her energy and joie de vivre; I hope teaching Kindergarten for the next 25 years does as much for my spirit as it seems to have done for hers!

Familiar hands play familiar tunes.

Margot wanders this place, giving random hugs and letting the residents touch her blanket.

One of my favourites; I swear these are the same songsheets we used to use when I was a kid.

This handsome gentleman spent 5 years overseas in World War II. He captured the room with his rendition of "Let Me Call You Sweetheart".

We talked about the war, and I thought about the many memories contained in the hearts of the residents here, most of whom lived through the Second World War. I thought of what it must have been like to say goodbye to my spouse, to wait months for a letter, to wonder whether my letters were reaching him. I thought of the babies that were born, and grew without meeting their fathers. I thought of the men who came home and had to somehow re-integrate into a family of strangers. I wonder about all the stories we don't hear.

Remember the fallen ones, and remember the ones who lived. If your grandparents are no longer living, contact your local nursing/retirement home and find out how you can contribute to making the lives of the residents brighter. Share a craft, a song, a dance. Sit and listen to a story. The elderly are a gift, tucked away in homes and just waiting for someone to visit. Many eyes watched with envy as we ushered Grandma out the door to come up to the house for lunch, and I would have taken them all out for lunch if I could have.

Remember them.

Don't Let Those Sunday Afternoons Get Away

If you're reading this and you're Canadian, and especially if you're from a small town, I may not have to explain much.

I'm not sure when my dad started playing hockey, but I imagine it was sometime around 1950. He tells us he used to stuff catalogues into his pants as leg protection. One photo we love shows this gorgeous, fit young man grinning cockily, completely oblivious to his missing front teeth (there might actually be a bit of pride there). He was always good: tough and fast. But he wasn't a goon. My dad took training to be a coach, and is well-respected in hockey circles for his skill and knowledge.

Throughout our childhoods, dad coached teams, instructed other coaches, evaluated exams, and ran hockey schools in Canada, the US, and Scotland. Walking into our local arena is like strolling into my childhood: the smell of rubber mats, French fries, and that instant hot-chocolate triggers so many memories. I hear the echoes of the cheers we used to shout for dad's team (Get back! Get back! Get back into the woods! 'Cause you haven't! You haven't! You haven't got the goods!) I would never have been described as a puck bunny; being the coach's daughter gave me special status. Needless to say, I never dated a hockey player. I sometimes wonder if dad didn't warn them all away. I heard a rumour once that he'd announced to his players, "If I ever hear any of you talking about my daughters the way you talk about ________, you're off the team". The warning was well-heeded.

When I was 4, my brother was born. When he was 5, my dad got him all outfitted for hockey. It was clear after one ice session that...well, let's just say, hockey wasn't in my brother's blood. He wanted to lie on the ice and roll the puck around like a wheel. His feet hurt and it was too loud and cold out there. I giggle about it now. Dad never pressured my brother the way a lot of parents seem to. When my brother got older and showed an interest in basketball, dad took him to see the Chicago Bulls play, and fostered this interest instead. When he became interested in music, dad got him a guitar.

Well, the next generation has arrived.

A few weeks ago, Dad took Jude into "town" and got him all geared up for hockey. While I don't hold many fantasies about spending my weekends in hockey arenas, Jude is just so darn cute in hockey equipment. That little jock strap! Oh my goodness.

7:00 a.m. Saturday mornings sees Daddy and Papa getting Jude ready to go.

My dad's familiar hands assisting with socks.

Young Warrior in training. I can't believe that's my skinny boy in there.

Up before the sun to play this national sport.

This picture makes me happy in so many unspeakable ways.

While I don't love the increasing competitiveness and body contact in children's hockey, or how it's becoming exclusive because of the expense, there is so much I love about this sport. Every time I hear Jane Siberry's "Hockey", I think of my dad and all those pure memories of hockey at its simplest:

Winter time and the frozen river, Sunday afternoon

They're playing hockey on the river
Rosy...

He'll have that scar on his chin forever; someday his girlfriend will say hey where...
And he might look out the window...or not
You skate as fast as you can 'til you hit the snowbank (that's how you stop)
and you get your sweater from the catalogue
You use your rubber boots for goal posts, ah...walkin' home


Don't let those Sunday afternoons
get away get away get away get away
breakaway breakaway breakaway breakaway.


This stick was signed by Jean Belliveau so don't f**king tell me where
to f**king go...
On sunday afternoon


Someone's dog just took the puck-he buried it it's in the snowbank...your turn

They rioted in the streets of Montreal when they benched Rocket Richard
It's true...


Don't let those Sunday afternoons
Get away get away get away get away
breakaway breakaway breakaway breakaway


The sun is fading on the frozen river, the wind is dying down
Someone else just got called for dinner

Rosy
Hmm...Sunday afternoon

Handmade Holidays...Tiny Stockings!

For the past 4 years, four friends and I have created sweet handmades to exchange. We each make 5 of 5 items, then gather for an afternoon of tea and sharing. We all end up with 25 unique, beautiful handmades which we wrap individually in tissue paper, attach to a large tree branch, and present to our children on the First of December. Each day until Christmas, they open a lovingly-handmade gift and anticipate the big day!

We often feel so busy as the holidays approach, and sometimes we all think...oh, do we have the time or energy for this? This is where flexibility comes in handy (e.g. three handmades, two store-boughts!)...I find as I start to create my contributions, I just get excited and the energy flows in.

Today I began work on these little stockings. They're delightful! I found the pattern in "Better Homes and Gardens' Holiday Craft" magazine, which you should be able to find at your grocery store. It's full of wonderful little handmades and ideas for gifts you can craft for your loved ones.

100% wool felt, including some plant-dyed pieces add to the rustic feel of these little stockings.

Tiny stitching and beads add to the Jan Brett appeal!

I'm thinking of mounting each of these little stockings on a piece of white felt, and adding hanging-loops...we'll see where inspiration carries me. If you're the crafty type, how are your handmades coming along? Advent Sticks could be quickly and easily assembled with small store-bought items if you're NOT the crafty  type. Gather your other non-crafty friends and each of you bring 5 of 5 little gifts to share. Be flexible and have fun! Be sure to visit Tonya over at Plain and Joyful Living for more Handmade Holidays ideas!

Yarn Along!

I'm loving this Yarn-Along blog-share idea from Ginny at Small Things! It seems there is a whole  community of biblio-and-lanaphiles out there...lovers of books and all things woolly! The two go hand in hand: both are redolent of woodstoves, warm socks, comfy chairs, and that cozy nestling-in feeling that just speaks of winter-on-its-way.

In preparation for an annual exchange of items in celebration of Advent, I've been knitting these little red mitten ornaments. They were fun to make, and quick! They're done now, and I'm at a bit of a loss as to what to make next. I've just frogged a sweater that I started this summer, and once again am faced with skeins and skeins of Donegal Tweed in a lovely celery green. I bought it 4 years ago to make a sweater for myself, but bit by bit I'm using it up in other small projects. I just can't seem to find a pattern I like enough to spend the time on it! Sigh.

One book we're loving right now is The Troll by Julia Donaldson (we've read this almost daily for a year...there are lots of possibilities for adding hilarious voices, if this is something you like to do). It has a troll, pirates, and the most belly-laugh-inducing illustrations! It's a family favourite, along with other books by the same author: The Gruffalo, The Gruffalo's Child, What the Ladybird Heard, and Stickman.Add Donalson's books to your Christmas list; the children in your life will love her wonderful rhymes and charming stories.

From the local library we borrowed Library Lion by Michelle Knudsen. This is a sweet tale about how a lion learns to follow, then bend, the rules in the library in order to help the librarian that loves him!

I just finished Big Stone Gap by Adriana Trigiani. I HIGHLY recommend it. I plan on doing a post about my favourite rural-setting books in the next week or so, so stay tuned for details.

Big Stone Gap is a hard act to follow, but Colm Toibin's "The Blackwater Lightship" is not a bad read. I'm not distracted with wanting to read it and admit that my attention has wandered since I started it. Tomorrow is library exchange day, so we'll see what else I can find!

Craft Classes: Felt Crowns

Last evening Maureen (of Twig and Toadstool) and I hosted the second installment of our series of craft workshops, aimed at mamas who want to create beautiful handmade gifts for their children. You can read about the first session here, where we made felt fruits and veggies for our little ones. Both Maureen and I are thrilled to pass on our skills and knowledge, not to mention the perfect excuse it gives us to drop everything and hang out together! As two part-time workers, and full-time mamas, it can be hard to find time to just visit and craft. To do it in the company of other enthusiastic wild women makes it all the more fun!  

Who could resist this rainbow of embroidery floss,

these colourful scraps,

a jumble of pins, needles, and scissors (recognise that toadstool pin-cushion?),

and an opportunity to create a gift of beauty and love?

Patient hands learned blanket stitch, running stitch, and backstitch,

and personalised and embellished with silk flowers, rickrack, ribbon, and buttons.

In spite of the uproarious mama-and-grandma-laughter, this little man dozed off (felt food in hand!)

allowing his mama to stitch this beautiful "L" onto his crown!

A sampling of the almost-finished results! (We used Amanda Blake Soule's crown template, found in her book, "Creative Family").

During these craft-lesson gatherings, the best moment for me is seeing the sparkle of pride dawn on a mama's face when she finally figures out how to make a nice, neat blanket stitch, or finds her finished product looking so much lovelier than she'd imagined it would. Crafty possibilities blossom, and everyone leaves with a feeling of accomplishment and renewed confidence!

Do consider sharing your skills and gifts with the world, either through informal gatherings like this one, where you collectively create an opportunity to create by bringing a bunch of materials (beads, earring hooks, string, feathers, mirrors, paper embellishments, etc.), or through classes. We've been so thrilled with the response to our Handmade Christmas series that we're already planning our Spring sessions!

Visit http://www.twigandtoadstool.blogspot.com/ for details of upcoming classes!

Culinary Adventures

They say that one of the hardest things to say is "I'm sorry".

If this is true, then the second hardest thing to say is "Yes".

There are so many appropriate reasons to say no. No, you can't watch another movie. No, you can't eat hotdogs for every meal. No, playing with a saw is not safe.

But let's face it: often we say no just to save ourselves the mess we know will ensue when they ask to play with glue, paint, and glitter. Or because it would be so much quicker to make pancakes or wash dishes without their help.

Still, sometimes you are granted a moment's grace, where you realise that every quest of a child, no matter how messy or annoying, is an opportunity for them to learn, create, and grow.

So when Jude asked to make soup, I said "Yes".

Go get your cookbooks and a pen, now, because I know you're going to want to write this down. In a small saucepan, combine grapes, bread, blueberries, rice milk, some Cheerios, and a healthy dose of sea salt. Make up the quantities as you go.

After much stirring and tweaking, Jude decided he wanted to eat his concoction for dinner. Good mama that I am (it was actually a bit of a struggle for me), I said, "Yes". Then along came the hardest request to say yes to: "Want to try some, mommy?"

But I did. I tasted it. It was sweet. And very salty. I managed to avoid consuming any of the solid, floaty things. Not to be outdone, daddy (who is a bit squeamish about certain textures of food) tried it. Even Violet, the picky eater of the family, gamely gave it a try.

 

Here's what she thought: 

Jude asked for a "side" of spaghetti, which is what the rest of us were eating. He was so proud of his creation, and delighted that we all tried it. He'll never know that we were all lying through our teeth when we said, "Yum!" What he'll remember is one word:

Yes.