Another Christmas, come and gone

The presents have been opened. Vast quantities of food has been consumed. There's miscellaneous bits of ribbon and wrapping hiding in strange places. That can only mean one thing.....Christmas, once again, has come and gone.
As usual, it was a wonderful day. Actually, our celebrating spans a couple of days. Trying to work with everyone else's holiday schedule makes it more like an open house for a few days. This year, the holiday continues for a few more days. Tonight we'll celebrate with neighbors. Tomorrow, Josh should be home and we get to do the gift thing all over again!
As I get older, I see Christmas from a different angle. Gone are the days when Christmas Eve meant staying up late to be sure Santa's gifts were wrapped and the stockings were filled. Now everything is wrapped and ready to go way before the day arrives. No longer do we struggle with the "slot A into tab B" instructions. The milk and cookies are shared by everyone, not just left for Santa.
While some of the chaos has been removed, it's been replaced with a wonderful feeling of family. Having the kids here for Christmas still makes the day for me. As they have gotten older and moved away, their visits mean even more. It's a time to catch up on their life. A time to just look over and see their faces. To know, that for a brief while, our family is together again, under the same roof.
While some things change, others remain the same. There still has to be a new ornament on the tree with their name and the year written on it. There had better be egg-nog to drink. Certain cookies are baked only at Christmas. (Although I don't know why...they could be made any time of year!) But if these things weren't present at Christmas, there would certainly be a void.
Our family has expanded. We now have the joy of grandchildren! But, over the years, our "family" includes friends near and dear to us. While not related by blood, they are just as much family. I'm sure you have special folks like that in your life too.....the ones you can call, anytime day or night. Good news or bad, they're there to share it with you.
To me, Christmas boils down to blessings. The blessing of family. The blessing of health. The blessing of wealth. For although we may not have monetary wealth, we are the richest folks on earth.
Wishing each of you a happy, healthy and blessed New Year!

Made in America....are you sure?

I recently went to a well promoted craft show. National talent, something for everyone.
Well, that much was correct. There was something for everyone. From inexpensive doo-dads to the same types of log furniture you might find in upscale catalogs. There was one major problem. The majority of these "crafts" were not home-made.
As a crafter, I know the time, money and effort that goes into making a quality product. There's a little bit of me in each item I make. It doesn't matter if it's yarn spun, a basket woven or soap batched. I take pride in each and every item I make. I know, for a fact, that other folks who create feel the same way.
So, it offends me to be offered an item (at a craft show) with a made in China sticker on it. Not that there's anything wrong with the folks in China making things. I just feel that a craft show is not where that should be show-cased.
There's a big push on to have folks buy items that are "made in America". I agree with that sentiment. But the frustration comes in when you believe that you are buying American, only to find that you've been duped.
To me, a craft show should be just that. A gathering of artists selling their wares. With the amount of talent in this country, you should be able to find whatever it is you're searching for. Might you have to pay a bit more for that item? Probably so. Will it hold up better than its foreign counterpart? Most definitely!
That unique brooch you bought may become the next family heirloom. The handthrown pottery may be passed from generation to generation.
Here in America, skilled artisans are still making things that last. Items that will stand the test of time.
This holiday season, please visit a local craft show. The kind that is held in a school gym or a church basement. More often than not, you will see the person who created their wares busily working on their inventory....making more goodies for all to enjoy. Feel free to talk to the artist. I know it's almost as nice to chat with customers as it is to create what they will (hopefully) buy! It may be a small step in the "made in America" movement, but every movement begins with a single step.

How much is that doggie in the window?

The one with the waggly tail.........there, now that you'll have that song stuck in your head all day, I'll get to the meat of this blog!
For years, I have lived with a dog or two around the house. Whether it was my first puppy, a cocker spaniel, that I got when I had my tonsils out or our big white Great Pyrenees, I've always had a dog. Nothing against cats, we have those too, but I love my dogs.
My first recollection of a four legged friend was Buffy. He was a big, furry, rust colored, babysitter! My Mom knew that if we were outside with Buff, he'd keep us safe. He never let us get near the road or go anywhere we weren't allowed. He was a beautiful animal. I suppose that if we had had a different kind of dog, my first impressions might not have been so good. That might have made me anti-dog. But that's just not the case.
I can honestly say something good about just about any breed of dog. (Well...in all honesty, maybe not chihuahuas or the other "pocket pooches" out there...) But, to each his own!
I bring all of this up because I am looking for a smaller dog. Not the aforementioned pocket pooch, but something spaniel sized.
Our resident pup these days is a husky-shepard mix. She's a beautiful, smart and just plain great dog. The problem is, I think she knows that I'd like a smaller four-legged friend. Sensing that, she tries her best to accommodate me by laying in my lap every chance she gets! Maybe in the winter it won't be so bad, but this time of year it's a bit much. Plus, huskies are pack animals....I'm just trying to add to her pack!
So I've been watching Craigslist, checking the local shelters and looking at all the possibilities that my future daughter in law, Tori, has been sending my way.
All the animals I have ever owned have "found" me. I never had to actively search out a pet. I'm not one to go to a pet store and peruse the windows. Until last week. I decided to stop by our local pet shop and see what they had available.
There were big dogs, little dogs, teeny tiny dogs and four legged furballs that I think were dogs. I chatted with one of the guys at the store, a former work colleague from my dairy days. He said he had just the pup for me. I waited to see what he thought would be my perfect little pal.
Out he came with a Cavalier King Charles spaniel. She was beautiful. It was love at first sight. We played for a while, then I gave her back. I couldn't just buy the puppy and bring her home. I had to find a time when Rick could "meet her" and see what his opinion was. That opportunity came a few days later. We went back to the store and played with that little pup again. So far, so good! Rick seemed to like her! Looks like we found our newest family member.
Until I asked "how much was that doggie"....
I know that the price of everything is going up these days, but I just about fainted when we were told $1800. I realize that includes a three year "warranty", her AKC paperwork, etc., etc. But, WOW.........
I cannot justify spending that much money for a puppy. Yes, she was cute, adorable and all of those things you want a puppy to be, but, WOW........
Guess sticker shock hits all sorts of things!
Needless to say, the hunt continues. I know that the perfect dog is out there. He/she just needs to find us and let us know. Who knows, maybe old Buff is working on that right this minute. He always did watch out for me!

Whatever happened to hats?

Whatever happened to women wearing hats? There was a time when every well dressed lady had many, many hats. There was a hat for each occasion. Ones for just going about town. Ones for special occasions. Ones to work in your garden with. Ones to keep you warm during the cold winter months.
Nowadays, if you see a hat on a lady, it's most likely a baseball cap. Oh, how we have digressed. Not to say that baseball caps don't have their place, but as a form of fashion, I feel they are lacking in style and grace.
This past weekend I was privileged to attend a bridal shower for my young cousin, Sarah. On the invitation it requested that all the ladies in attendance wear a hat of some type.
Oh my....what a picture the gathering made. Everyone wore some type of head-wear. There were beautiful picture hats, straw hats, fedoras and fascinators.
Two things stood out as I looked around the room. First, we discovered that it's a bit of a challenge to hug someone while wearing a wide brimmed hat! (Perhaps that's where "air kisses" started!)
Second, I noticed that folks carried themselves a bit differently. A little taller, a little prouder, with a bit more grace and elegance.
And when it comes right down to it, isn't that part of what is missing in our lives today? For a few hours, we were of the elegant set.
I have had a love of hats for as long as I can remember. Of course, I come from a long line of hat lovers. My Aunts had a hat for any occasion! It was a wonderful experience to see many of their hats at this shower. While they were watching the festivities from above, we were enjoying telling tales of the hats that they have passed on to us. Once again, that golden thread that weaves through each of us cousins was shining brightly.
I know my Aunts (and my Mother) were smiling down on us as we carried on a family tradition.
Perhaps it's a tradition that needs to be revived in this country. There's just something special about a hat.

Turn the page

We each have times in our lives when a chapter closes. Some can be abrupt, some may linger, but they are usually for the best. Turning a page allows us to move forward.
I was given the chance to closeout a chapter of my life when I discovered I was still part owner of a house in Louisiana. Now, I'm not talking about a lovely vacation cottage on the ocean, or a beautiful southern style home on St. Charles Avenue. No, this was a nice little house in a quiet suburban neighborhood.
I drove to New Orleans with the intentions of cleaning out the house and putting it on the market. While that was accomplished, it was a week full of memories. Old photos, old friends. New friends and new beginnings.
I first must publicly thank my former brother-in-law Gary and his lovely wife, Kat, for housing me during my stay. My original plan was to "camp out" in my former backyard. I was informed by my oldest son, Matthew, that I was " in NO WAY sleeping in the backyard like a hobo"! So, instead I was treated to a lovely home in Uptown New Orleans. Both the home and the people who live there were warm and welcoming.
Throughout the week, as I worked on cleaning out the house, folks would stop by. A "blast from the past" was a common occurrence. One day there was a knock on the door and there was an old family friend and his beautiful daughter. His son and my boys had played together as children. We had taken family trips together...whether camping or to the beach..our lives were intertwined. A visit from the next door neighbor was a treat. Hearing how the years had treated them made time disappear.
While sorting through the years in the house, there were wonderful discoveries....a small windbreaker worn by both boys, a set of Matt's favorite dinosaur sheets, and tons of photographs.
Everything was sorted through. Piles were made......who wants the handmade tiki mug & stein collection? Josh, which mugs do you want? Who wants the sails for the boats? Who needs furniture? Everything that had life left in it was sent on to live somewhere new.
The antique bedroom set was broken up, but each piece went to a person that needed it. I know they will be well loved for many years to come.
I can't end this blog without thanking a few more folks along the way....My former brother-in-law Ray for the muscle and moral support. Kate for her tireless work on a hot day for a lady she had never met. Peter for keeping me laughing. Marcia for reminding me that friendship is a strong bond that time does not erase. And last, but not least, my son Matthew. His help (both physically and emotionally) made this journey worthwhile. We started the chapter many, many years ago.....it was a blessing to have him by my side as I turned the page.

Angels among us

Today's blog is a difficult one to write. Last week, as many of you know, my boys, Matt and Josh, unexpectedly lost their Dad.
This turn of events necessitated a fast trip to New Orleans to be with Matt. He had the difficult task of identifying his father for the funeral home. Now, Mark was at his home with his wonderful companion Maddy when he passed, but for whatever reason, the funeral director needed the next of kin to give the final answer.
As parents, we try to keep our children safe, sound and happy. I have found that being there for the nearly impossible stuff is a workout for the heartstrings. I would lay down my life for my children. (All of them!!) Over the years we have seen them through the good, the bad and the ugly. This was, without doubt, the most difficult task I have ever faced.
When my own parents died, it was hard. When my parents died, part of my brain reminded me that they had lived long and fruitful lives. That somehow lessened the sting. When Rick's sister Chris died from leukemia, the sting was back. A bit stronger because it was a life cut short. Expected, but not without pain.
However, a sudden death is the hardest. There is no way to prepare yourself for the inevitable. It's a sucker punch right to your gut. Suddenly you're filled with "shoulda, coulda, woulda's" and your world is thrown into a tailspin.
To hear folks try to comfort by saying "They're in a better place" is almost unbearable, however right it may be.
An important part of the grieving process is railing against the unfairness. We have been doing that since we received the news.
But with this, we also begin to remember. Maybe it's a moment, a word or an action. For that moment, we are reminded that while we may never physically see that person again, they're truly a part of us. Our memories and feelings keep them alive within our hearts and minds. We can now talk to them and in our heads hear their answers loud and clear. In time, we may even smile again, when we "hear" those replies.
The photo today is of two special guardian angels that my boys have. On the left of Matt is his Dad. On the right, his Grandma Jean, who passed away last fall.
Godspeed, fair winds and following seas Mark.........

Great minds think alike

It doesn't matter what profession you are in. You learn and grow as a professional from gathering with like minds.
The first weekend in March, I did just that by attended the regional meeting for ALHFAM. (That translates to Association of Living History, Farm and Agricultural Museums.) It is an organization that I belonged to many years ago when I was active in living history. As I will be going back to that endeavor this spring, I thought it would be wise to reconnect with this fantastic organization.
When you are "doing" your job, you can sometimes feel like no one outside your little world understands what your job entails. Maybe it's the hours you work. Maybe it's conditions you work in. Maybe it's the skill-set necessary to excel at your job. Whatever the case, that's an easy trap to fall in to. That's why these gatherings are good for the soul. You connect with folks you've never met before. You discover that you're not the only one who gets bugged by teachers who bring their charges to your museum, only to end up as the disruptors on your school tour! (Think chatting or texting on their cellphones when everyone was asked to turn them off!)
How about finding if there's a better way to make your interpretation more lively/informative/interesting?
For someone in my field, it's a blessing.
To spend a few days learning from each other, or teaching new skills, refuels the soul. It allows a person to reaffirm their reason for their chosen profession.
Of course, in my profession, there are perks that go along with these gatherings. The folks who spent two days making cheese, shared their finished products with everyone. People who made maple syrup had some delightful treats to take home. Living history folks are great believers in "make & take" workshops! For that, we are all grateful!
Everyone needs a reaffirmation of what they do for a living. If you're a mechanic, finding and fixing that "clinky whining noise" that your customer hears reaffirms what you do. Watching a student have an aha moment when they get the concept you're teaching reaffirms what you do. Having a patient tell you they feel better than they have in years reaffirms what you do.
For me, watching a visitor understand how history shapes our life makes me appreciate what I do!
No matter what you do for a living, you are not alone! Find folks of a like mind. Learn and grow from each other. Everyone will be better for it in the long run!

Roasty-toasty warm

As we close in on the dead of winter, I can't help but wonder how difficult winter was for our ancestors. If we're cold, we turn up the heat. Let's face it...very few people will just add on another layer of clothes. We like our creature comforts! But put yourself back 100-150 years. Your only source of heat was most likely a fire. Whether it was in the form of a fireplace or a cast iron stove, you needed wood to keep warm.
We supplement the heating system in our house with a woodstove. For someone like me,the heat from the stove is wonderful. It's a steady warmth, as opposed to a furnace or boiler, which has to cycle up to temperature. But this warmth comes with a price.
The price may be to someone else who cuts the trees into usable sizes. Or, the price may be to ourselves in the form of time and effort to gather wood. Perhaps "gather" isn't the right word to use......I don't believe I've ever just walked into the woods and "gathered" firewood.
This past weekend, we needed to get more dry wood to burn. The wood that we bought earlier in the season is still too wet to use by itself. It might be great for an outdoor fire, as it steams and smokes. It would be grand for driving mosquitoes away! Yet, since I wish to have a fire in my woodstove, it's not the best choice.
Armed with our chainsaw and log puller, Rick, Tiffany and I set off in search of some standing dead timber. We were fortunate to find a tree with three sections. Two of these sections were dead. The third part still had brown dried leaves attached. For the most part, that only means one type of tree in our corner of the world. It was an oak! For those of you who don't burn wood, it's a favorite to have. As a hardwood, it burns slow and hot. Just the ticket for a favorable fire.
Rick fired up the chainsaw and make short work of taking the tree down. We cut it into logs and pulled them out of the woods. Then they were loaded onto the back of the pick-up and hauled home. The next step was to cut them into handle-able pieces to be split. Once we split them (with the aid of a log splitter) they were loaded back into the truck and taken to the house. There they were stacked and ready for our fire.
There is an old saying that goes "Wood warms you four times over. First when you cut it, then when you split it. Then when you stack it and last when you burn it." I have found this to be true each and every time.
We only use wood as a supplement to our heat. I can't imagine how it was for my grandparents. There were no chainsaws. There were no log splitters. There was no other option for heat. The amount of wood they must have needed and the time required to gather it must have been phenomenal! Remember, the wood was not only their heat source, but also the fuel source for their cooking and baking!
As we ready ourselves for yet another winter storm (forcasters saying this is the "big one" for this season), I know that we'll be roasty-toasty warm.....for the fourth time!

New Year, Old Job

The New Year has arrived. Here's hoping it brings good things to each and everyone of you!
For myself, it is starting off with great promise. I found out on New Year's Day that I have my favorite job back! Now, that's not to say I haven't loved some of the jobs that I have had since my first favorite job, but I will be back in my element.
If people are lucky, they find a job that suits them. Some folks are "office" people. (That, I'm not!)
Some folks like the comfort of a cubicle and temperature controlled climates. (Not so keen on that either!) Some folks would rather not deal with the public in any way, shape or form! (Those of you that know me, know that's really not me!)
Little did I know when I went to college for theater and elementary education, that I could combine the two in a job just perfect for me! That job is a living history interpreter. For the people in the audience that might not know what that is, let me explain.......I take a specific time period in our history and teach about it. (No, not quite like a history teacher in school.) I can do it in a variety of ways. If I go to a school to teach, I go in period costume. That is, wearing the clothing that someone from say, 1850, would wear. I bring with me a plethora of things that one might not find these days and talk about them. (Anyone know what a thundermug is?)
While I enjoy going from school to school to share our nation's past, the job I'll be re-starting in the spring is at a living history museum. There are places like this all over the country......Plimouth Plantation, Colonial Williamsburg, Genesee Country Village. These places allow us a glimpse into our past. From how food was provided (before grocery stores ) to how clothes were made (before Wal-Mart) to how we traveled from place to place (before horse-less carriages).
I'll be interpreting (or teaching) this lifestyle at The Erie Canal Village, in Rome, New York.
I was there many years ago. It was at the Village that I learned many time honored skills. I learned to spin wool into yarn and flax into linen. I learned how to cook over an open hearth and bake in a beehive oven. And I found that I was happiest when sharing these skills with the folks that came to visit. If we had a group of school children visit, it was great fun to have them help me do the laundry! They couldn't believe that you actually had to scrub each article of clothing, by hand, on a scrub-board! When adults came in, they loved seeing (and smelling) fresh baked apple pie as it came out of the oven.
There is no monotony at this job. Each day is as different as I choose to make it. And there's something to be said for being in the fresh air everyday. None of the historical buildings have heat or air conditioning. Yes, in the spring it can be chilly. So, I put on flannel petticoats and stoke up the fire in the hearth. In the summer, it's hot! I still wear all of my historically accurate layers. A shift, pantaloons, three petticoats and a dress or skirt and blouse. And, I'm still cooking over that fire! Some visitors are stymied by this. "Aren't you hot?" Gee.....what do you think? But this too can be a teaching tool.
The last time I worked at the Village, I was lucky enough to bring my children with me on various occasions. I'd like to believe it gave them an insight that few children have today. As a matter of fact, the picture at the top of this post is of myself, my son Joshua and daughter Tiffany taking down the flag at the end of the day.
They say everyone has a purpose and a place in life. I'm thrilled to be going back to mine.