Tag: life

Hues of Holiday Blues

 The guy and I have said several times to each other in the past week..”It just doesn’t feel like Christmas this year”.   There are several reasons I can come up with that are logical – the crappy economy and our tightened budget, which I have exceeded and now feel guilty about.    There’s the lack of snow… it’s been depressingly cold and grey lately without the beauty of  the white stuff.  Today the wind howls down the chimneys of This Old House like a screaming banshee.

  Still,   I don’t think it’s any of those things as much as the absence of  TOYS.  We both bought heavily into the magic of Christmas with our kids over the years.  We went to great lengths to hide presents big and small,  leave cookies out for Santa, carrots for the reindeer.   One year we threw presents on the porch roof to make it look like Santa had dropped a few on his way over to the chimney.  We made sooty boot prints on the hearth,  sometimes threw a loose brick or two in the logs to make it look like the chimney had crumpled  under the weight of Santa…and there have been more than a few curse-strewn sessions of toy-assembling.  Who knew a Barbie Camper could come in 1,378 pieces, assembly required beyond sanity’s threshold.  That part maybe I don’t miss so much.

 I do enjoy the Christmas traditions we continue to carry through, like monkey bread on Christmas morning.  My kids still love getting their gifts under the tree, of course.   After the holiday I’ll share with you some of the crazy stuff I find to fill their stockings.  But…  the gifts under the tree are different. There are no more American Girl dolls or Breyer horses or remote control monster trucks or giant stuffed Tigers or Play Dough or Light Bright or  Big Boxes of Crayons – the kind with the sharpener in the back of the box… I still haven’t outgrown those.  Not even a Tickle-Me Elmo.   And I miss them all.   I miss the feety pajamas and the twinkle in their eyes, the excitement of Christmas Eve, the trying to fall asleep, or more like the trying to stay awake to catch the sound of hooves and sleigh bells on the roof.

   I saw Elmo on the shelf in Target last week and I almost put him in the cart.  Just because.

The Best Gift of the Season

  So.. as I ponder this particular holiday season, for as much HO HO HO, Good tidings and JOY  it’s supposed to bring upon you, what’s more realistic is the angst about spending money, buying the perfect gifts, trying to get a card out, wrapping all the presents, making all the lists, cooking and baking all that food and missing the people who aren’t with you for one reason or the other. I see it clearly on facebook and the blogosphere   (although bloggers tend to be happier people, I’ve noticed.. more griping goes on in the Facebook world and I always think that’s a mistake). 

 Today, although I have all of the above to worry about,  I did nothing in particular of very much importance.  What I did do.. was appreciate the family all under one roof, untethered to work or school projects or activities. There were no tragedies or emergencies.  School is out for the holiday and it’s so nice to have both chicks in the nest. I didn’t even mind the bickering between them, which was minimal…and I suspect they like having each other around too.  I love the gift of  this ordinary day, and I don’t appreciate it often enough.  There have been times when we have not had that luxury and I should know better. 

 I hope you’ve had an ordinary day too, and I’de love to hear the kind of day you cherish most.

You can please some of the people some of the time

  It may appear that This Old House and it’s acreage is way out in the middle of nowhere… however we’re just minutes down the road from the center of  what I can describe as a small New England town. We live on a scenic rural road, but to the right of us when facing the house, up on the hill abutting one of our fields is a subdivision of luxury  homes.  This is the view of that subdivision from our dirt driveway that leads to the back fields.
Our farm has been here for 200 years.  The subdivision is about eight years old.  We have been informed this morning that a formal complaint to the town has been filed by our closest neighbor in that subdivision because they can see our farm machinery from their house, see above. Their property line is right at the back of their house.  They happen to have a beautiful view of our fields. You can see from the pictures below that these fields are well maintained. There is an entire field, treeline,  drive and two stone walls between their property line and the machinery parked at the back of one of our fields.  Said machinery is still 50 yards behind me when I took this shot aiming at their house,  above. Am I clear on how far away from their backyard this equipment is located?
This view below is what they are complaining about. I was standing on the wall on our property line when I took this picture this morning. I had to see for myself just what they were complaining about.   Click on the picture to enlarge.. you will see the tops of our equipment,  and a few extra trucks are there today because we have men here helping Mike spread organic fertilizer over the hay fields. The healthy stuff, not a chemical we could have chosen.
 What disheartens me the most is that if they had any gripe at all, we are neighbors. In my opinion a decent neighbor, one you might want to have a decent relationship with simply because you live next to each other.. oughta pick up the phone and talk to each other about whatever the complaint may be.  They had no problem stopping by to ask if their child could use our fields to cut through to a friend’s house, and they had no problem asking if they could rebuild a portion of rock wall that is on our property but they consider a part of their yard.  WE had no problem oblidging because we are, afterall, neighbors. 
  Well today, as we begin spreading that organic fertilizer,  we will surely fortify the field that is directly behind them right after lunch.  I hope they appreciate that it is all organic and will make that hay field look even more spectacular come Spring.
 

This fertilizer spreader is from the 1970’s… still works beautifully.
They don’t make things like they used to.

More Blog Love

 See the button on the right over there?  Everybody needs a little…

 Yeah, well no one needs the aggravation of trying to figure out how to make the “codes” of a blog button work if you don’t really know what you’re doing.  So after two hours of cursing the machine, I went to the expert –  Di of The Blue Ridge Gal.  She saved me with the flash of an SOS.  Go ahead, click on it.. it works!   The jingle, by the way, is a song written and sung by Mikes partners son, James.  Not bad, huh? 

Thanks, Di –

 And.. look what arrived in the mail from Misha in the Tennesee mountains!…. a moose, a snowman and a PEACE pillow.   Misha, your christmas card was beautiful too, Thank you.

 We had a serious winter sky early this evening… I’m hoping for snow.

The Reason

   I was asked recently why I like to blog.
 “What’s the appeal? You’re having mini conversations
 with people you don’t even know and might never meet!”
       The appeal?  It’s the human connection…the commiserating, shared creativity,
virtual visits to parts of the world and occupations and customs
I may never experience in person. 
 A room with a different view.  
We laugh together, cry together and  sometimes for each other.
We share ideas and recipes and remedies. 
Blogland is a village of sorts, complete with idiots,
but I try to avoid those.

 I received cookies in the mail today from Hilary of
Crazy As A Loom ….
…not helping me with the “Lead me not into temptation” thing…
but these sure hit the spot with a nice cup of tea
on a bone-cold winter day.
Thank you, Hilary.

Looking around This Old House, I see I may have gone hog-wild with the decorating and I’m wondering, too late,  who’s gonna help me put it all away. My family finds 2,000 things of more importance to do when it comes time to take it all down.
I found this sign at one of the casino shops last week –

 And this one is perfect for This Old House, much to the husband’s chagrin.
.  
I am a sucker for vintage snowmen, and these two are my favorite. 
They are keeping Henry company on the kitchen island.
 
I picked up this throw on sale at TJMaxx,
now lets see how much it sheds on the couch.
Can’t be worse than the dog.

Thank you to all of you who comment and commiserate here at
This Old House.
You’re all part of the journey and I’m grateful for your presence.

Elizabeth Edwards

 I am so sad for this woman. My heart broke open  when I saw tonights’  headlines declaring she had lost her battle with cancer.  Ever since her estranged husbands run for the presidency and the story that slowly unfolded, I was hoping for a decent ending to her story. I don’t know what that would have been…but it doesn’t seem fair that she should have had to endure the loss of her son,  a battle with cancer and  the painful fallout from her husbands’ affair – the loss of her marriage, and ultimately, her life.

 Her own words speak volumes about the kind of woman she was.

“The days of our lives, for all of us, are numbered. We know that. And, yes, there are certainly times when we aren’t able to muster as much strength and patience as we would like. It’s called being human” But I have found that in the simple act of living with hope, and in the daily effort to have a positive impact in the world, the days I do have are made all the more meaningful and precious. And for that I am grateful. It isn’t possible to put into words the love and gratitude I feel to everyone who has and continues to support and inspire me every day. To you I simply say: you know.”

If there is truly a hereafter and justice is served – I hope she is walking hand in hand with her beloved son, catching up on the years that have passed.  Rest in Peace, Elizabeth Edwards.

Christmas at This Old House

 

 December has arrived, and with it the craziness of the Holiday season.  I’ve decorated This Old House for the first time in the spirit of Christmas, but I wish I could tell you I was feeling more of the joy.  With the passing of the “Thankful” holiday, while there is much I am grateful for, the flip side are the worrysome issues that remain.  Their weight is heavy, I’m finding they don’t mingle well with this time of shopping, spending and our tendency towards overindulgence.

  Mike’s proffession in particular has taken a hard hit in this down-turn of the economy. Along with us there are many subcontractors, craftsmen and laborers who are out of work or watching their business of 30 years dwindle and in some cases, close up entirely. Homes are being lost to the bank, life savings and retirement funds being used up for today’s survival, mom and pop stores closing for good. (our artisan shop among them). There are family and friends struggling with health issues and money woes and relationship crisis and we are not immune.  As for the job market, which I am scouring daily, it’s currently a dismal landscape.

  In the news this week is the story of a deranged father who has “displaced” his three sons after attempting suicide and admitting himself to a hospital.  He will not say where they are…what an  a**.  The police are not hopeful.  I keep thinking of what the boys’ poor mother is going through, you’de have to shoot me to end the insanity.  I am praying they will find those boys alive and give her back her life.

 As for the state of this country’s affairs. I’m not even going there.  I’ve decided to avoid the news all together because there is surely not much I can do in my little corner of the universe to fix any of that.

SO… in an attempt to create an escape for my family and myself, I have decorated just about EVERYTHING that stands still in This Old House. If you’re idle for more than a few minutes around here, you’re in danger of the same fate.

Dining room (keeping room)

 Kitchen (also part of keeping room area)

 My Christmas Cactus bloomed for Thanksgiving
 My tree collection at the dog sink in the downstairs bath
side entry mud room

 This is Country Girl Kate’s cardinal photo…

In the mancave, nutcrackers stand guard

 mitten and snowflake tree in upstairs hall

family room

 According to a google search: A candle placed in the window is  a traditional practice in many cultures with a variety of meanings. Throughout the history of man a campfire has represented warmth and security. It is the barrier between the safe and the unsafe in an untamed and unfriendly wilderness. Over the course of history, as we have moved our campfires into our homes, there, the hearth has represented these very same things. The family hearth has been the center of activity because of its warmth and practical use for food preparation. 
 In most cultures a Candle in the Window was used to signal a Family’s loyalty to a loved one who was away traveling. It let that person know the family awaited their return and the hearth was warm and waiting for them. In Ireland during times of religious persecution, the Window Candle signaled the location of religious
services.  In Colonial America a Candle in the Window was used to honor dignitaries, announce births and just plain celebrate.  
  The candles in the windows of This Old House are lit for those who are struggling. My hope is that the holiday season will bring peace and joy, good news and resolutions to all who are in need. One of my favorite quotes… “It’s better to light a candle than curse the dark”.   Amen to that.

It’s illuminating

 Something about them brings out the inner child in us all,
don’t you think?
 I don’t care what kind of a crappy mood you might be in
and it doesn’t matter the reason… 
If you’re out on a winters eve and you come across
a holiday light display, most often your spirits are lifted.
 Like the moment when Kris Kringle hands the Winter Warlock
 a toy choo choo, melting the ice around his heart…. 
..or when Linus wraps his beloved blanket around Charlie Browns
sad little tree and friends who shunned him earlier
gather round to sing.
The tree (and Charlie) flourishes in this act of love.
When I see a light display or holiday decorations,
I think of the people who live inside the house.
Clearly, such an outward expression of joy means
 there is joy within, and it’s meant to be shared.
When there is no sign of celebration,
 no wreath on the door or holiday lights or candles
 in the window, I get the feeling there is sadness.
Now THESE folks must be oozing  joy….(or booze, could be that)

This is my favorite…
I’de love to recreate it but can you imagine the work?
The expense! 
My grandmother had a white christmas tree for years.
Sometimes it was decorated with all red ornaments
 and tinsel and poinsettia
and once  it was an ocean of blue.
Sounds tacky but let me tell you…
it was beautiful.
These trees aren’t exactly traditional, but they are extraordinary.
If I could only find those STARS….
 Today we’re planning what kind of joy we’ll be spreading around outside
 This Old House.
At the moment you can’t appreciate the irony of that statement
 because you’re not here.  
The teen and I are setting up the snow village.
This post is my coffee break, because I needed one badly.
 Apparently I have forgotten everything I ever knew
and he has found what I must have dropped on the floor
and multiplied it by all the smarts any adult has ever accumulated.
 Quick, ask him something, whatever it is,
while he still knows everything! 
Just for gawds sake don’t give your own opinion
 because I’ll warn you now
 you’re already wrong.
 I’m  off  to the hardware store
 to order 10,000 more sets of lights,
cause that’s what it’s gonna take.
*sigh*
  

You Can’t Go Home Again

 I visit Staten Island once a year to see members of our family who still call it home.  Every trip down there brings sadness to my heart, for it is not the island of my youth. I blame the city of New York for poor zoning regulations and a disregard for preservation of history.  It comes down to the all mighty dollar and a big dose of corruption, I suppose.
   The island was once hailed as a rural respite from the hectic pulse of the big city.  There are still some beautiful areas, like the old sea captains homes of Sailors Snug Harbor and Clove Lake Park.  Historic Richmond Town is a living history village and museum complex not unlike Sturbridge in Massachusetts, and as far as I can tell, the greenbelt is still “green”.  It’s also considered an affordable community for people who fortify the city workforce, although I am shocked at the real estate listing prices.  

Sailors Snug Harbor
Also known as Snug Harbor Cultural Center and Botanical Garden or referenced informally as Snug Harbor, is a collection of architecturally significant 19th century buildings set in a park located along the Kill Van Kull on the north shore of Staten Island in New York City. It was once a home for aged sailors and is now a 83-acre (340,000 m2) city park. Some of the buildings and the grounds are used by arts organizations under the umbrella of the Snug Harbor Cultural Center and Botanical Garden.

  Unfortunately, in the 25 years that I have been “off-island”,  it’s rapidly become a congested hub of  traffic, pollution (both air and ground) overcrowding of housing – duplex after fourplex after sixplex of apartment and condo units with nary a hint of  appealing architecture and barely a nod toward horticulture.  Historic structures have been removed at an alarming rate and there doesn’t seem to be any sort of movement with momentum to stop the madness.

Years ago, most of the streets looked like this…

 Today, many are turning into this…
Among the Casualties….
Clove Lake Stables
My grandmother, her youngest daughter and then my sister and I used to ride rented horses
through the park at one of the two big barns on the island, Clove Lake Stables.
The Stable was originally an ice house, and then converted to a Livery
by the Franzreb family when refrigeration made ice houses obsolete.
That’s me, second from left.
The horse was named Gaslight and I adored him.
I had a plan to someday rescue him when I had a farm of my own.
By the time that happened, Gaslight and the farm were gone.
Sister on pony
In it’s place is a large housing development.
Cedar Grove Beach
My cousin and I braving the waves at waters edge…
Mom with cousin Jay
Recent times…
Cedar Grove was a small cottage community on the water  facing the city.  Three generations of my family enjoyed summers there in rented bungalows.  It wasn’t glamorous, but it was a safe, friendly beach where everyone knew their neighbor and pitched in to keep the place up. Many families had rented the same bungalow for fifty years or more. This year it all came to an end . The article below sums it up beautifully.
Cedar Grove Beach All Washed Up

By Matt Chaban

October 4, 2010
There was no eleventh hour rescue for Cedar Grove, no life preserver for the 99-year-old beach community on Staten Island’s South Shore, the last of its kind. Despite resident’s best hopes, the politicians and preservationists backing the Grovers could not reach a deal with the Bloomberg administration or the Parks Department to save the bungalows at least for another season, to say nothing of another century. Even Andrea Peyser — Andrea Peyser! — couldn’t woo them.
Grovers still maintain there is no reason to spend good money tearing down a good beach — it’s much cleaner than its city-owned neighbors — that pays $140,000 to the Park’s Department every year to exist. It will cost millions of dollars in capital money to tear down the houses and reopen the stretch next year, which is and has always been publicly accessible. At the same time, beaches across the city, including some just up the shore, have been closed due to lack of funds. Never mind that the city is so desperate for money that it is considering selling off its parking meters to fill the widening budget gap.
At midnight Saturday, Cedar Grove was no more. Parks police was on hand to see to that, according to the news -Parks Department officers guarded the club’s gate as members carried out their belongings. “It’s been tough because I’ve been finding a lot of old family memorabilia,” said John Murphy, 52. The Staten Island Advance has been covering the saga closely and has its own tale of woe:
The season at Cedar Grove Beach Club opened each year with the raising of American flags from each of the 41 bungalows. [Saturday], those same flags were flying upside down. “It signals a vessel in distress,” said Roy Wood, a retired Sandy Hook pilot. After nearly a century, time has run out for Cedar Grove. Its lease with the city expired yesterday, an occasion made even grayer by the rain.
 Edith Holtermann pulled the remaining produce from her garden.    side-note from Karen –  (Mrs. Holtermann was my gym teacher in high school – she could throw a mean volley ball if you aggravated her in just the right way.)    Mick Kenny took one last view from his back deck. Jennifer Fitzgerald-Young stood on her porch with her daughter, Elizabeth, who at 9 months is Cedar Grove’s youngest resident. Eric Lesnick hoisted his 5-year-old daughter, Lillianna, in his arms.
“We will miss you,” she scribbled on a bungalow wall.
The fate of this community and beach  remains to be seen.  Demolition of the cottages is on the agenda.
 The Family Homestead
Then
  We grew up in a century old farm house with a generous yard in the midst of an old family neighborhood. Big oak trees hung over our house and the streets were tree-lined too.  When I drive down the old street now, it’s a heavy feeling. Not much is familiar. The house was taken down for a much more profitable four-family times two. 
 Now

The original front door knocker  now mounted on my mother’s current door.
They don’t make them like they used to.

Some things that still exist
My grandmothers house of 42 years… though she moved away years ago
and has since passed on, this will always be Nana’s house to me.
Then

(we were all scared senseless in this photo, even though my cousin Ralph
was underneath the disguise. Santa’s just a scarey dude, why do we torture our kids this way?)
Now
My Aunt and Uncle still live in the house they built 50 years ago.
I used to feed the deer red berries off the bushes in their yard.
I thought I’de rescue them someday too…
and you know, that’s still a possibility.
I’m finding it ironic – the strong desire I had at 18 to get the heck out of Dodge and go find my life in the country….and this wish at midlife to be able to return, if only for a day, to that old familiar place where time was on my side, ambition ran high and all dreams were out there for the making. In those days, in that house, there was not yet the realization that all dreams cannot be met, all relationships will not work out as we would like, all things are not always possible, no matter how badly we work for, want or need them.
 
   The meaning in the quote “You Can’t Go Home Again”  as I see it..is this –  Even if the old homestead were still intact with every tree still standing, I am changed. I am different. I am polluted and crowded with the experiences of my life.  Standing on that very threshold would not bring me “home“, not as I knew it then.  Home is the here and now…and really, what am I looking for back there anyway.  It’s all good right here.

  Well…. there’s the food. But I can bring that back with me.
And I did.       

Can you hear me now?

  Actually, you don’t have to… because I’ll probably just send you a text. Hopefully not while driving or having dinner with my family. But if I’m being honest here, I can’t even guarantee that.  And that’s what has me concerned, for a lot of reasons.

 I left the house yesterday morning with a list of errands. About 15 minutes down the road I realized I had left my cell phone at home. A wave of panic flew over me and I actually contemplated adding a half hour onto my drive time just to get the damn cell phone.  And that made me think.  Ten years ago I did not own a cell phone.  Communication was basically land line at the house, snail mail and  WOW NEW THING – E_MAIL!…and that was awesome…and sufficient!   How did I become so attached to my cell phone ? (now an iphone, which I love and can’t imagine living without ). 

  To be fair, what I love about it the most is the clear communication of text because I’m hearing impaired and it’s easier.  Even more importantly, there’s the access to my kids, especially when they are out and I want to check on them.   But even THIS has it’s down side for me.  Because now that I have “instant access” to the knowledge of their wellbeing and whereabouts (within reason, I’m not stupid)  …sometimes, if they aren’t near their phone or it’s turned off.. there’s a new wave of panic, and that’s just silly.  I do remember my own childhood, afterall, when there were no cell phones.  Basically after breakfast on weekends we did our chores begrudgingly, and headed out into the neighborhood.  “Be back when the streetlights come on”… said my mother.  When I was a teen, I’de have track meets after school.  I’de get on a city bus that would take me to where I had to go, come home at some point and that’s when I’de touch base with my mom again.  That’s it!  It worked and I’m still here to blog about it.   In raising my own children I wouldn’t call myself a “helicopter parent”.. but in some ways and thanks to cell phone technology, I suppose that shoe fits.

   I don’t generally text and drive. I preach this to my kids on a regular basis.  Honesty hitting me square in the face again and forcing me to come clean, though… not long ago MY SON said to me.. “Mom, stop texting and driving”… and I looked over and said “I’m not, I”m just reading a text ____ sent me”… and he said “SAME THING!  If you saw me doing that when I get my license you’de scream at me”.   and he’s right!.   That conversation shamed me… how can I preach safety to my kids if I’m not practicing what I preach.  I’m glad my son called me on it, and every time I’m tempted I remember that conversation.   I’m sorry it had to happen in the first place.  

   Not long ago we were sitting in a Texas Long Horn restaurant. Across the isle were another family.. five children ages approx. 7-18 and two adults.  ALL of them… all of them… were texting continuously, rarely stopping to throw a sentence at  each other.  This continued for a full hour until they got up and left. When I walk down a city street (I noticed this in NYC)  people are texting, talking, reading while walking.  Totally connected to whoever it is on the other end of their gadget… totally DISconnected from the world around them. I see teens gathered at sports events, standing together but silent.. texting someone somewhere else.  NOT connecting with each other. What is this going to do to the new generation’s ability to socialize, interact face-to-face?  We’ve become so -connected- we’re not even speaking to the person next to us or enjoying the moment we are living in, doing whatever it is we are doing in that moment. Even on my recent rail trail ride on my horse… I had the cell phone in use, even though I was enjoying a beautiful day with two friends on a scenic ride in a new place.  

It’s ironic, this new world of total connection.

Where is this all leading?.. because it’s not going away. We do have the power to put the phone down, though.. and it’s something I’m going to try to do more often.

 All photos courtesy google and whoever took them.