Builders

The days following Christmas and the turn of our calendars to a new year are full - finishing and beginning, putting away and choosing new starts, savoring what is and planning for change.  I love choosing times to settle, reflect, assess, and value.

Nowhere is this more obvious than in the times we stop being busy to enjoy a book and each other!  Nora loves to sit in her Mom's lap and "read." She lifts her arms to her Daddy, delighting in knowing he will pick her up and hold her close. These times, of course, last only minutes for a toddler who is off to explore new adventures quickly. But the minutes are some of the most important in her day, and theirs. She reminds us all of the deep importance of taking time to pay attention to the smallest of needs. I am thankful Nora has parents who give her this attention.  I am also thankful to have one of the laps she asks to sit in!   I am thankful we are builders - doing homework together as a family.

The Builders

All are architects of Fate,
Working in these walls of Time;
Some with massive deeds and great,
Some with ornaments of rhyme.

Nothing useless is, or low;
Each thing in its place is best;
And what seems but idle show
Strengthens and supports the rest.

For the structure that we raise,
Time is with materials filled;
Our to-days and yesterdays
Are the blocks with which we build.

Truly shape and fashion these;
Leave no yawning gaps between;
Think not, because no man sees,
Such things will remain unseen.

In the elder days of Art,
Builders wrought with greatest care
Each minute and unseen part;
For the Gods see everywhere.

Let us do our work as well,
Both the unseen and the seen;
Make the house, where Gods may dwell,
Beautiful, entire, and clean.

Else our lives are incomplete,
Standing in these walls of Time,
Broken stairways, where the feet
Stumble as they seek to climb.

Build to-day, then, strong and sure,
With a firm and ample base;
And ascending and secure
Shall to-morrow find its place.

Thus alone can we attain
To those turrets, where the eye
Sees the world as one vast plain,
And one boundless reach of sky.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882)

Gifts from the Past

This necklace and bracelet of cowrie shells was sent to me from Taraway, Gilbert Island by my uncle, whom I loved dearly. Travis Terrell was serving his country in the Navy in WWII.  He printed my name on the above pictured note, but the handwriting below is my mother's, Opal Terrell Teal. As mentioned, I received the jewelry September 4, 1944. I remember handling the tiny shells and loving the jewelry as a little girl.

Oddly enough, it is only now, well over 70 years later, that I consider the circumstance of how and when my uncle obtained the shells, how homesick he would have been, how much he longed for home and his family. (His 2 oldest children are slightly younger than I).  It would have taken some time for a gift to arrive in Texas, putting the shells very near the months less than a year prior when

More than 1,000 U.S. troops were killed in action and some 2,000 were wounded in only three days of fighting at Tarawa. Word of the heavy casualties soon reached the U.S. and the public was stunned by the number of American lives lost in taking the tiny island.


http://www.history.com/topics/world-war-ii/battle-of-tarawa

Finally, I am understanding more of the meaning of my gift of shells.

Christmas Collage

If one picture is worth a thousand words, this is a very long (and happy) post!  More comments about our Christmas Day next week, but for now, please enjoy our gathering and celebrating!

Gingerbread House

Today is the day my father was born in 1909. He left us in 1982,  too soon to see any of his grandsons or great granddaughters learn to love to cook as much as he did. My sons are passing me up as gourmet cooks, Lauren (22) cooks meals for the family now, Skye (13) is a great pastry cook, Maddie  (9) tried her hand at chicken curry recently, even making the curry blend herself, and Jordann (7) loves to tie on an apron and help to bake.

I am often asked where I learned to love cooking. A great deal of that became a part of me because Mother and Daddy owned a cafe most of the time I was growing up. Mother worked there and cooked more at home, but Daddy cooked for the cafe, creating the best hamburgers and lunch plates.  He got up early and went in to make scratch pies and hot rolls. So as I watched Nora and her Mom, Kristen, make a gingerbread house, I thought how much Daddy and Mother would have loved to see this project!  At 21 months, Nora was intrigued by putting the little candy dots on the house. Perhaps it is a good thing she does not eat candy yet.They did a fantastic job.  There was not much cooking in this kitchen project, but she will be standing on a stool helping me make cookies soon! You made your great granddaddy proud, Nora! It was Kristen's first gingerbread house, too!  But she bakes beautiful cakes, so she knew how to handle that frosting.

Christmas Wonder

 “For it is good to be children sometimes, and never better than at Christmas, when its mighty Founder was a child Himself.” 
― Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol

It is also good (wonderful!) to be a grandmother at Christmas. To share in the wonder of twinkle lights and cookie baking, to give even your tea table a Christmas dress and  cover tiny trees with pretty decorations. Nora brings us the delight of her joy this season, making it all new again for everyone in our family. She runs around discovering every tiny manger scene, angel, and Santa. She loves dancing to all the sweet carols.  I find myself being astonished and full of wonder in new ways and saying it just like she does:   "OOOH!   Wow!"  

Bringing the Garden Inside

Ben and Kristen gave me a small herb drying rack for my birthday.  Last week, I hung it from the center of my pot rack and added a few bundles of herbs. I love reaching up to pinch a bay leaf, some rosemary twigs, or crush a basil leaf into a pan on the stove. Christmas music is playing, the tree is up, and it smells like Christmas. Last week when Maddie and Jordann and their mom arrived to spend a few days, the first thing I heard when they came inside was "It always smells like Christmas here!" I like that.

Blessed

Thanksgiving Day has come and gone, Advent begins tomorrow. The 2 days are not always so close together, but it seems appropriate to move from the posture of marking gratitude to these next weeks of waiting and expectancy. I love so many things about these celebrations. There is the time set aside for personal reflection and recollection. There is time for family gathering and celebrating. This Thanksgiving has brought a keen awareness of how precious our times together are and how much I appreciate the occasion because it draws people home. The coming year brings great change for all of us, some already known. Jobs and homeplaces are relocating, our grandchildren are growing up. Next year gatherings may be different in numbers and place. So I need to say one more time how grateful I am that all our thirteen of our sons, their wives and our grandchildren were together for hugs and laughter, fun in the kitchen, remembering, and circling our great feast for Joe to pray a blessing and thanksgiving for our family, our food, our being together.  Not many pictures, but so many, many good memories.

Thanksgiving 2015. Blessed.