Flower Seasons

May 1, Feast of St. Joseph the Worker, St. Walpurga, May Day, and Mary's Day.

Last evening, we celebrated St. Walpurgis's Eve with a romp on the beach.  Afon ran straight for the cold waves, shoes, socks, trousers, and all.  I had to run in after him (shoes, socks, trousers and all) but he was not dismayed.  Until later, when he realized how uncomfortable it was to be wet, even on a mild evening in spring.

When the tide is out, the rocks are things of beauty, and for all the white-sugar sand of the Gulf coast of Florida, it doesn't touch the raw, remote, mineral beauty of the Irish sea.  Pebbles are worn smooth and creamy from the patient centuries.  It's a hard kind of thing to capture with a camera, so I'm glad I left it behind this once and enjoyed being in it.  The beauty of the Welsh seashore is a dimensional thing; it's in the atmosphere, a haziness that color and line and form can't quite capture.  The mussels sprout like so many blossoms on the jagged rocks.

I've always counted the seasons of Wales in flowers.  The sign of winter's waning is marked by the coming of the snowdrops.  We arrived in March, just in time for the daffodils.  They're season fades for the time of the bluebells, and they are even more numerous than Saint David's flower.  Soon the hydrangeas will harken the summer.

But there are many, many flowers here, the apple blossoms, tulips, dogwood, and primroses.  I think this is a Kazan Flowering Cherry.  They appear in lush poms and snow torrents of true-pink petals.  The trees are here and there in Colwyn Bay, but this one is at the entrance to Tan-Y-Coed gardens along the Old Colwyn river.

Five Favorites (vol. 45)

Jan. 29, Feast of St. Gildas the Wise, a post-Roman, pre-Saxon British abbot, renowned for his historical (now known to be pseud-historical) work, in which can be found one of the first written records of King Arthur.  He preached to the mother of St. David, patron of Wales, while she was pregnant with him.  Gildas is responsible for converting much of the island of Ireland, and the influence of his writing survived long into the Middle Ages, particularly in the Celtic Church.  We like St. Gildas, if you couldn't tell!

1  //  Valentine's Day Scandinavian folk-style Tree of Life coasters are something I'd probably make string banner out of rather than use them to absorb leaky beverages.

2  //  Knee-high knitted socks with Scandinavian ornaments keep your toes warm in fierce weather.

3  //  I can see this Nordic winter wreath as bright spot in a mound of white, the only indication of a cozy, insulated, buried house in the snow.

4  //  This Swedish folk cushion cross stitch pattern makes me happy.

5 // Swedish Dalahäst printed tea towel is functional and cheery.

If there's one thing I like as much as I do Arthurian Britain and the Celtic peoples and their saints (see St. Gildas above), it's Scandinavian folk art and folk culture.  Probably because the Christmas season has ended but winter's still in full bluster, my mind fancies far, white northern regions and their cheerful, intricate designs warding off the dark and ice.  I listen to Scandinavian folk music and Google rosemaling and dahla horses.  I think about The Snow Queen and the reindeer herders and the sagas that share common heroes and gods with our English language and legacy.  I think about it all the time, actually, but at the cusp of January-February, it is especially fitting.

So!  My five favorite sorta-functional Scandinavian items.

Making Your Season {Merry}

It's 3:24 in the morning.  My tonsils are swollen and sore, a canker sore is at full tenderness on the underside of my tongue (just what you always wanted to know!); the Squirt fell asleep around 7:00 PM, woke up at 10:30 AM, and has been awake ever since, mostly self-entertaining, thank you guardian angels!  I've slept on and off but woke up due to screaming tonsils to gargle warm salt water, attracting his notice, and am now attempting to find sleep again in the fetal position while my wordlessly loquacious almost-three-year old climbs all over me.

I might as well share all those Christmas-y pictures that I never got around to posting.

(Currently, I can hear that my son turned the tap on in the bathtub, and I know he's sitting in it fully clothed, socked, sweatered, and all.)

So, my (belated) home Christmas preparations:

I'm happy with the gradual Christmas decorating I did this year, taking out and adding things in stages throughout Advent.  I've read that other people take out the winter-themed decorations and leave the Christmas things to Christmas Eve.  I like that, but in all honesty, if I was going to do it all in one day, it would never happen.

For wintery things, I like to look in my own backyard, so to speak.  By my own back yard, I mean . . . my parents' backyard.  I collected some of the prettiest, fullest, and biggest pine cones from the grass, spray painted them gold, and piled them in a festive basket.  (One can never have enough baskets; I have a theory that the amount of stuff one can find that needs storing in baskets is directly equivalent to the amount of baskets one happens to have; in other words, I can always find stuff to put in baskets).

Christmastime, oddly enough, is a time when my energy bills go down.  I know it's usually the opposite for most people, but in our small apartment, if I'm going to have an abundance of stringed lights up and on day and night, I might as well leave the electric lights turned off.  And do.

I light my Advent wreath throughout Advent as well, so that by the time Christmas Eve arrives, the candles are burned down to tiny stubs.  And then I buy some green, white, or red ones on clearance and replace them in the Advent wreath; I might put a thick white one in the middle for the Christ Candle.  I'm an enthusiastic regular-season candle consumer, so there's always the scented ones I buy on sale or the plain ones I buy in bulk and, of course, the votives on the home altars.

Now, this is one idea I've seen appearing, to my delight, in other people's homes.  And it's such a fun and easy idea:

I'd lost the how-to of making them into the distant memories of my childhood until about four years ago, when my parish called for free hands to come to a snowflake-making party in order to furnish the decor for our Marian winter ball.

I've been making them ever since.  Small ones, big ones, fancy ones, simple ones.  Since I only have one child under three, it takes a little bit of doing to get to full paper-flurry, so I keep all the ones I make each year and add to the collection.

With string, I tied the littlest paper snowflakes to the Christmas tree for a folksy, homemade theme.  They're light, shatter-proof, and not a big deal if someone rips them off the branches, unlike pricier, breakier ornaments.  Pictured here along with the snowflakes: some paper origami ornaments from Ikea (but you could probably find a tutorial online, I'm betting, and very easily make them yourself) a box of 99 cent candy-canes (again, not a big deal if the Squirt gets hold of them--and he does), a spool of festive wired ribbon, some cheap beaded garland I bought a year back on clearance, and three Scandinavian conical fabric ornaments.

After I took this picture, I added some wooden ornaments I uncovered in a storage box, a peppermint framed photo of the Squirt from last year's Santa-sitting, and a homespun ornament made from a recycled Christmas card, scrap-booking materials, laminating sheets, and ribbon.  Also functions as a bookmark.

To make this little seasonal photo collection complete, I should have a genre for the food, but I never got around to baking much this season, much less putting together a pretty photo banner.  Still, I somehow managed to gain somewhere between five and ten pounds.  Oh well.

Someone bought me a sweet little cupcake, though.  Forgive the picture repeats, but enjoy the Picmonkey abuse:

I get a little OCD carried away.  But there it is.  We did buy a real tree this year, actually more of a bush, because a fake tree costs just as much, if not more.  This one is potted and so is a long-term purchase I can justify.  We got it at a local farm, and I asked to stuff a gaping shopping bag full of boughs clipped from the bottom of purchased trees.  They always place them in a large, conspicuous pile, and the wreath-maker can usually be found right next to it winding the flexible limbs around metal frames.  But there's far too many for her to use up.  So this year, and the last, we were allowed to take extra greenery home.  Free and festive, it's probably my favorite part of the winter/Christmas decorating, and the most traditional.

That's my easy, nearly-free, commercial Christmas.  Timed perfectly to when you've got to start taking things down (if you haven't already).  It's now past four o'clock in the morning her.  The ibuprofin has set in, the pillow is calling my name, and the toddler is soaking wet.  Have a good one (night, morning, rest of the Christmas season)!

(Parentheses!!??!?)

Little Stories, 2013 in 13 Pictures

Dec. 31, Seventh Day of Christmas.  Feast of St. Sylvester I, pope and confessor.

Nadolig Llawen!

Dec. 24, Vigil of the Nativity of Our Lord.

". . . there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived, could tear apart.  Only faith, fancy, poetry, love, romance can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond.  Is it all real?  Ah, Virginia, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding."

Christmas blessings to all who visit this blog and all their loved ones, and to our Eastern and Greek brethren, the same hearty sentiments in a few weeks' time!  Nadolig llawen!

Theme Thursday: Dreaming

Dec. 18, Wednesday of the 3rd Week of Advent, Day Three of the Christmas Novena.

f/1.8  //  ISO ???  //  ???

Can you totally tell this is tampered with in Picmonkey to make it look like snow?

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas.

As I write this late(ish) on Wednesday night, sleepless and uncomfortable from yet another virus, I'm predicting that the popular Christmas song (and movie!  twice!) is Cari's inspiration for this week's Theme Thursday.  Sadly, there will be no snow for us this Christmas, lest glacial melting and global warming take vengeance and usher on the Apocalypse . . . and that's just no fun and not what I had in mind for Jesus's coming, even the second one.

But I do dream of white Christmases, and dreaming is memory--at least, they must come from the same place in the soul.  And even though I now live in a sub-tropic clime, I'm a child of Midwestern winters, and the hard, warm snow that fell on flat, dry grass, lending its porcelain silence to a drab and weary backdrop.

I remember waking in the dark of early morning, breath held.  Even if no word came from the television that school was canceled due to snow-blocked roads, I still thrilled to step out into the white-and-black world.  Snow makes stars sharper, somehow.  I'd bundle up and go out early to wait on the corner of the street.  My feet were the first imprint; it was surreal, like crossing finest sand on a beach no human soul had touched on another planet.  Everything was suddenly closer, the world made smaller; you know, sharper, like when you twist your camera lens and everything comes into focus, so that you can see each tiny grain of glass.  As if the light reflected drew the sky down to gaze at her own reflection.  I stood there for ten, fifteen--twenty minutes well before I had to; before the other children--noisy, shoving and joking, oblivious--came out to wait with me; before the squat bus lumbered over the road toward us, and broke my shimmering bubble of infinite yet self-contained existence.

I mean, there's more than one reason it's called a snowglobe.

Yarn Along

Nov. 27, Wednesday of the 34th week in Ordinary Time.  Chanukkah begins.

My parents took the Squirt ahead of me to the family gathering place in the north of the state, giving me a while to compose myself and pack, prepare for the big holidays ahead (including Advent!) and rest from the past few weeks.  The autumn has been full and hectic.  I love my new job, but working six days a week is taking its toll on me--or perhaps it's just the underlying anonymous health conditions I'm trying to pinpoint and address.

The temperature is plummeting tonight, and so I'm grateful for a warm crochet blanket to spread over my lap while I catch up on Parks and Recreation and re-watch The Secret of Kells . . . hope to start Game of Thrones and Once sooner rather than later.  But this will really be the only extended vacation I have, since we work throughout the Christmas holiday (except the 24th and 25th) at the childcare center.  I've got a Sulfjan Stevens mix playing in the background, and he reminds me of winter.  I'm looking at changing the linens in the bedroom soon and growing more aware of the absence of pine-scent.  I'm feeling decidedly Scandinavian right now, as my Etsy searches reveal.

I'm reading two books, as I am usually not able to concentrate on one at a time: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban for the Harry Potter book club and Ender's Game.  Ender's Game is older than The Hunger Games trilogy and, though I haven't read the latter, it feels far more affirming.  But that may just be my knowledge of Card's Mormon beliefs and its preference by some whose opinions I regard highly.  I think I like it, though it is at some parts painful.  It surprises me with its forthrightness. With all my training for close reading, my methods flip and cancel out dealing with a theme and topic so complex in so simple prose.  I'll probably give a fuller review after I finish.

I wanted to observe Chanukkah this year, but things didn't arrange themselves favorably for it all to come together.  I was scrambling with other plans and responsibilities until the last minute, and it seems that there is not a significant enough Jewish population around here for the stores to sell menorahs.  I wanted to look up the prayers and liturgy of the holiday, and even see if there was a Catholic compliment/adaptation, like there is for Passover.  But here the Festival of Lights is upon us, and I'm none the wiser.  It will have to wait another year.

Do you or someone you know celebrate Chanukkah?  What are some of your favorite family traditions?

I think Chanukkah integrates well with the season of Advent (it usually falls later in the year, early December).  It's a compliment to the flames of the Advent wreath, the miracle of the light that the darkness failed to put out; God's goodness to His people; and a reminder that Our Lord became incarnate as a Jewish man, and that he is a Jewish man still in Heaven, now and forever.  Amen.

Coming up on the blog, I hope to do a companion decorating piece to the Hallowmass one; Micaela's special 3 Reasons I Love Catholicism Advent edition; and Haley's Advent Unplugged link-up.

I so want to "unplug" this Advent, but I really don't know what more I can give up.  I don't own a television and haven't watched anything online in two months.  I rarely go on Facebook any more, except after work when Squirt is still in the classroom, and I can steal a few minutes on my office computer.  The Harry Potter book club is suffering, and Jenna and Masha have been more than patient; plus, our time spent discussing together is so precious and empowering for me.  I'd really like to cook better, more healthful meals more frequently.  I've done dinner grab-and-go more times than I'm happy with this month.  And the laundry and cleaning are always endless; more than making me happy to have a neat home, it sometimes just must be done!  I wouldn't' mind giving up the car and subsequent costs, but, you know . . . suburban America and all.

So, all that said, I guess I'll have to think about it and get back to you.  Happy Chanukkah, friends, and, if I don't see you, a blessed Thanksgiving!

Late Autumn Tea

Nov. 22, Feast of St. Cecilia, married virgin and martyr.  She is patroness of composers, martyrs, music, musicians, musical instrument makers, poets, and singers.

In climes farther north, it's still barely autumn.  The crops are all harvested; the birds are flown; everyone tucks in quietly with their winter stash of soul-stuffing foods; all that is left is to wait.

Now is the waiting time, a perfect preparation and meditation on the coming Advent.  Before the preparations close in on us and make us lose sight of the essence of the coming holidays, November gives us time to rest and reflect; and also to kindle hearts with old friends at a bountiful table, with the hot tea kept flowing, and the cakes and conversation abundant.

I'm most pleased as as a hostess to stand apart and wait on my guests.  Maybe it's because of my college days as a waitress, but I have my own self-imposed standards of hospitality, especially at a tea party.  I don't want to sit, eat, or drink until everyone is served, content, nearly finished.  It's rewarding to me to see my friends and guests enjoying themselves, and I don't necessarily have to be in the center of that.

I had my help, of course!  My little spirit sister rose eagerly to attend to me in the kitchen whenever asked, and a talented woman who works at the childcare center with me made this cake for us au gratis . . . I couldn't believe her generosity!  She runs a business from home called Secret Recipe Cakes.  If you're local, you must commission her!  Moist and thick pumpkin cake with silky pumpkin mouse topped with chai butter-cream frosting and fondant sunflowers.  I knew it would taste amazing, and it didn't disappoint.

The Menu

*made by me

~ made by friends

Finger Foods

rye cocktail bread with pumpkin cheese spread

red velvet cake truffles

pumpkin butter* and crackers

candy corn cupcakes~

Soup

carrot and parsnip*

Salad

Miss Cathy's Ruby Jubilee Salad,

with cranberries, almonds, feta, and a raspberry vinaigrette dressing*

Sandwiches

Miss Cathy's almond chicken salad* on a croissant

brie and apricot jam on a croissant

mixed fruit

Dessert

blueberry crumble cake~

pumpkin cake with pumpkin mousse filling and chai butter-cream iciing~

Teas

Irish Breakfast

Early Grey

English Breakfast

Lady Grey

Chai Apple

Darjeeling

China Oolong

with cream,

natural stevia, pure maple syrup, honey, and/or agave nectar

My little friends (not so little anymore!) brought me hostess gifts of November-themed illustrations in delicate frames to accent my decor.  The younger one made blueberry crumble bread and candy corn cupcakes.  Their mother gave me a tea cup with a dainty doily and hand-crocheted pot holder.  She gave me six delicate tea spoons from her own collection about six months earlier.  My adopted godmother brought me a sweet-smelling holy oil, blessed by a priest renowned for the gift of healing.  I'm grateful for it in these days of on-and-off illness.  My mother loaned me her sweet Thanksgiving china and autumn tea pot.

But the best gifts of all were the gifts of their company, of their presence.  Of the old friends brought together with new friends, whether in actuality or in spirit.

A blessed and cozy November to you!