Remembering Mom

Baby Helen, about age 2

I am thinking about my mother today. She lived through such a lot in her lifetime; her life was dominated by change, adversity, and hard work. And through it all she remained a loving, caring wonderful mother and human being.

She was born in 7 December 1918 when World War I was nearing its end and lived a long life, experiencing ever-so-much. Her mother had been raised during the Victorian era and she raised her two daughters and one son with the same strict standards. It was a loving home but one ruled with high standards, schedules, and old time manners.

Helen Mae Truxes Dyte age 18

Mom's youth was spent witnessing the events of the Roaring Twenties and I like to think her fashion sense came from those glamorous days. She was a beautiful woman, both inside and out.

Helen May and Kathryn Truxes

She was 11 when the onset of the Great Depression began in 1929, and she was 21 when it ended, spending her formative years watching her parents struggle to make ends meet and worrying about her future and that of her younger sister, Kathryn.
In that same year, 1939, the United States entered World War II, so her twenties were spent in yet another era of austerity and change.

Mom was only 19 years old when she had her first child, my eldest sister, Elizabeth.

Baby Elizabeth and Mom

She went on to have seven more children and lost two of them. Her infant daughter, Helen, died of a birth defect, spina bifida. Baby Helen was in the hospital for six months following her birth. Mom walked to the hospital every day carrying bottles of her breast milk to feed her baby hoping one day to return home with the child. Baby Helen only lived for six months.
Her son, Todd, died sadly at about age 18 months, of appendicitis.

If she would discuss these two lost children with you, no matter how many years had passed, nor her age, she would cry still; the pain was that intense and her wound still raw after so many, many years. She never forgot, nor wanted to forget, those two children whom she loved so dearly.

Elizabeth and Mom

Baby Priscilla, Baby Susan, and Mom

Pearl Harbor was attacked on 7 December 1941 - mom's birthday - and she was only just turning 23 years old with her little four-year-old daughter to worry about. What was the future to hold for her and her siblings soon to follow?

I can't imagine living through such decades of change without it negatively affecting your personality, yet, my mother was a loving, kind, warm person. She lived for her family and loved her children more than anything else in this world.
She loved gardening and had a 'green thumb'. She had a natural way with making things grow and add beauty to her world.Not a wonderful cook, but her baking skill were top notch. She could bake a mean pumpkin pie, which we called, 'lead' pies because they were so heavy. But they tasted more like heaven!

That's the family in 1956! Mom was holding me, and Elizabeth was holding my infant brother, Tim. Priscilla, Sue, and Deborah are in the front row. Even dad got in the picture via his shadow!

When we were growing up in the 1950s and 1960s, at a time when most moms were, what we call today, 'stay-at-home moms' my mother worked in a hospital. She would care for us during the day, sleep a few hours in the evening once my dad returned home from work, and then head out for an all night late shift at the hospital. She worked to make our lives better and help to make ends meet. I can't imagine how she managed it.

Did I mention she had only a hand-operated wringer washer and no automatic dryer?
She would carry laundry down from the second floor to the basement, wash it and put it through the wringer to squeeze out the excess water. Then she would climb up to the attic with the clothes and hang them on lines up there. In the summer, she had a clothesline in the garden, but winters were all about that four flight climb to do the washing for a family of eight.
It was when using this machine that she had an accident and put her hands through the wringer, crushing her bones and requiring surgery.

Despite hands damaged and arthritic from the accident, she still somehow managed to knit, crochet and sew. When we were very young, she sewed clothing for us. I can remember her making nightgowns for the girls and that the luxurious cotton flannel from which they were made, was warm and wonderful on cold winter nights. They were so full you could wrap your body up in them like a blanket. Store-bought nighties were never any good after having those glorious homemade ones.

Mom loved country rides and it was on one such occasion that I learned of her love of animals, too. I mean, let's face it, I knew she loved cats, and dogs, and birds, but on this day she pulled off to the side of the road to rescue a turtle who was meandering across it. She was so concerned about helping the turtle, she drove her car into a ditch.
Thinking nothing about that, and only about the turtle, she quickly got out of the car and stepped up to the turtle, gingerly lifting it up and then placing it on the grass by the road's edge.
Her car had to be rescued by AAA. Forever after, she would be reminded that she needed to 'watch the turtle' if she got too close to the edge of a road.

Dad and Mom back in the early days

Mom became a widow at age 47. With five children still living at home, and the youngest only 9 years old, she had a lot to learn. My dad had managed everything in their marriage, during his lifetime - all household expenses and bill paying - everything. Mom hadn't even learned to drive until she was in her forties.
My mom didn't know how to write a personal check and I know she never learned how to balance her checkbook. But it was all on her now and her world was falling apart. It was a difficult time for all of us. But she somehow managed, and we all lived through it, grew-up and moved on with our own lives, and our own families.

And that is how it is supposed to be, isn't it?

My beautiful mom

If mom was still here with us today, she would be 92 years old. And my dad would be 100!
She passed away on 4 August 1998, 12 years ago today.
It was from my mother that I learned about family and love and about what the important things are in life. She was and will always be my inspiration and my 'hero'.
I am so proud that she was my mom and that I am her daughter.
I miss her each and every day.

You may have lots of friends, a loving family and children of your own, but you will always have only one mom. Cherish her always, and tell her you love her. And just for me, today, give her a big hug, too.

xxx
Maggie

David Austin Roses - So Perfectly English!

My neighbour encouraged me to get out of the house a couple of weeks ago. I have been, more-or-less, a shut-in for the last three months, and so it was decided we would travel to Shropshire to have a visit with some fabulous company - English roses.
A friend of hers offered to drive and the three of us began a journey to tease all of our senses.
I was expecting to visit a nursery that specialised in roses. You know what I mean: the typical lanes of shrubs, with row after row of plants, all set out for you to select and buy the best one of the lot. My, was I mistaken!At David Austin Roses you drive in on a lane that lies between fields of roses all in bloom, and it is a heady, breathtaking, experience. Once your car is parked, you are directed by signs on which way to enter through the sales gift shop, but then - oh my!

You wander out from the shop and into a dreamland of roses. Roses, roses, everywhere.
They are in pots or growing up the side of a wall. They greet you under canopies of wooden lattice that are so covered with their vines, it is actually dark beneath them.

Some formal, and some less formal, gardens of shrubs, ramblers, and climbers of many varieties.

Queen of Sweden

We sat for a bit to rest beneath a beautiful portico overlooking a gazing pool, perfectly centered to look ahead into the depths of the rose-covered pergolas.

It was a day of feasts for the senses- seeing, smelling, touching, listening, and even tasting as when took a wee lunch break on the patio, just outside the tearoom, on the premises.
We watched as people walked around discovering new 'friends' and old favourites.The heady scents of so many different roses all mingled together and hung in the afternoon air, making our outing ever-so fragrant, too.


We saw children accompanied by grandparents and watched as they tentatively touched the heads of the roses, all the time worrying about the possibility of being pricked by a thorn. All the while, their youthful voices were chattering away, asking one million questions of their companions.Tiny sparrows kept us company while scurrying about collecting crumbs from the pavement and swooping up to their nests under the eaves of the buildings.

It was a gorgeous sumer day, a bit overcast, and very breezy. The rain held off until we were headed home so our day was just perfect in all ways!After our garden walks, I had decided to return home with A Shropsire Lad, a hardy climber, with a fabulous scent.

I guess other people had the same idea; it was all sold out!

A Shropshire Lad

So I decided to purchase my second choice, The Generous Gardener, but it was not to be!
Suddenly I was, (not surprisingly), taken with, Penny Lane.
As a child of the sixties, naturally, I had to have it! Who wouldn't want a rose bush with the same name as the famous song from the fab four?

Penny Lane

Penny has been planted in a special spot in my 'instant garden' that, you may recall, I wrote about earlier in the year. With a bit of luck she will climb over and around a corner of the wall and bring a bit of beauty to a drab space.
She is holding her own right now, and you are sure to be reading more about my little Penny in upcoming posts.

If you are in the area, plan a visit to David Austin Roses - you will not go away empty-handed or disappointed!
xxx
Maggie

Meet Ellie!

A huge "THANK YOU" to Ellie Thouret who discovered my Etsy shop, SweetScarlett, and has asked me to accept an invitation from her to write about, and promote, my work featured in my little shop!

Ellie is an author/artist associated with an on-line journal publication called, Try Handmade (www.tryhandmade.com). I love their slogan - "people not factories"
She has just published her article, "Product Showcase: Go England!" featuring some wonderful handmade artists, and their products, all made in the UK.
Have a look here: http://tryhandmade.com/product-showcase-go-england/

This is just one example of products she has featured in her article. This adorable little striped guy was made by Emma from Squiggly Monkeys. He is so fresh and cheeky, isn't he?

Ellie has a little bit to share with us, about herself, in her Etsy profile:
I am an independent knit and crochet designer based in the UK's North West.
My accessories are inspired by anything and everything and I put a stylish flair into all of
my garments.
I instantly fell in love with yarncrafts and my mission is overturn the common
perception that knitting and crochet is old-fashioned and unfashionable!


Her Esty shop, Ellie Thouret Textile Designs, can be found here: http://www.etsy.com/shop/EllieThouret
Why not take a moment and look to see what she has in the shop and why knitting is so "now" and not old fashioned at all!

Ellie Thouret has been kind enough to also include my work in her current treasury on Etsy.
Entitled, "Handmade in England" it showcases some the items featured in her article for Try Handmade. It can be found in Treasury East on Etsy at this link: http://www.etsy.com/treasury/4c2a26113d6d8eefbfd49a44/handmade-in-england

Thank you Ellie - I appreciate the promotion and want everyone to know it, and YOU, too!
xxx
Maggie

Looking For An English Autumnal Fair

Hello sweet readers,

I would like to participate in an in-person fair this autumn.
I know many of you attend them, and some of you participate in them, but I haven't a clue as to how you find them to do either.

I would like to begin to make some things using vintage fabric and new fabric and vintage linens I have been hoarding for just this purpose. But once made, I would like an outlet in which to sell them. I am considering creating lovely tote bags, pillow covers, aprons, baby and children's clothing, as well as my little Lucky Penny Books to sell in a stall.
Fairs that have both a vintage feel to them as well as the opportunity to sell both vintage and new objects would be the perfect venue for my items.

I prefer West Midlands locations and dates near to the Christmas season. But depending on distance, I would also be willing to drive for a bit. I love the Cotswolds area as well as any pretty village locations.

Who can help me find a good venue in a nice location with a quality fair???
Thank you!!!

xxx
Maggie

Happy 5th Anniversary, Darling Jim

Nothing brings me more pleasure than to think back almost six years ago now, to our long distance courtship and love affair. And nothing has changed in these past five years of wedded bliss, except the distance.I believe in fate. And it was fate that brought me to Jim. And I am so happy it did.
He is a kind and loving man, father, and husband.
Everyone who knows him loves him. Especially me.
Wishing all of my lovely readers, the sort of love and happiness Jim and I have together.
And wishing my Jim many more years of happiness and togetherness with me.I adore you, James Wareham.

xxx

Maggie

We were married right here in the living room of our home in Williamsville, New York

Our friends and family decorated the house and made home-made deserts and refreshments.

Our home-made wedding cake, my bouquet, and some other wedding finery

Calling all Women - Uterine Cancer - This May Save Your Life

Hello friends!
I know I have been silent for over a month and that is not like me at all.
But there are good reasons for the lack of blogging.
I have been wondering whether to share this with you or not, as it is very personal.
But I have chosen to write about it in hopes that it may help some of you and bring you to an awareness of a condition some of you may be experiencing now, or in the future.

I am recovering from a total hysterectomy. My surgery was done on April 26th at the Women's Hospital in Birmingham. I am still healing but that is only half of it.
Last week, I received a letter, confirming that there was cancer in my removed uterus.
I had dodged a bullet, but one I never saw coming. This is the story.

It has been a journey that began all the way back in August 2009.
Let me go back there and begin at the beginning . . .

Last August, I began bleeding. Thought nothing of it.
Being like a lot post-menopausal women, I didn't know too much about what my body was up to. I had had an easy time of menopause - my cycle simply stopped. No more periods. No odd symptoms, no hot flashes. Nothing.
So this weird bleeding seemed to me like a one-off. Nothing to worry about.
In fact, almost as if to prove my point, it disappeared as quickly as it began and I truly thought nothing more about it.

Then, in late November, it happened again. Only this time it stayed for a couple of days.
Again, I really didn't consider it any sort of warning sign or anything like that. We women are tough and used to our bodies having unusual discharges. All women go through menopause differently and there are no set rules. Who knows why our bodies do what they do, right?

But then, the following week, in early December, it happened again. And stopped again.
And then the next week, it came back again, and stopped again. Now I began to worry.
It wasn't as if this were a recurrence of a monthly cycle, it was weekly and so the warning bells went off.

But the holidays were fast approaching and I was busy and waited to call my GP.
In the meantime, the bleeding stopped again and I felt a little better about it all.
In early January it started up again, but this time, it did not stop.
Once a week, for a day or so, the bleeding came back again.
I began inquiring among neighbours and friends to see if they could recommend a good OB/GYN person for me to go and see. Each time I was met with blank stares.
And even when I asked a nurse in reception at a local doctor's office I received the same look. You see, it is a term that is unfamiliar here. Most people refer to gynecologists as 'guy-nee' and I was speaking with a funny accent using odd terminology.

When I was able to get my question across, I was alarmed to discover that most women did not have a personal gynecologist. They were seen by the nurse in their doctor's offices for pap smears and only went to see the guy-nee when they were having babies.
And today, most of them are now seeing midwives for this rather than OB/GYN doctors. So it might be years before they actually see a medical doctor who specializes in women's bodies. Scary.

In fact, most women I spoke with glanced away with a shy look when the subject was broached. None of them had regular visits to a gynecologist who knew them and their medical history.
In fact, unlike most HMOs in the US where a woman has an assigned doctor as her Primary and an OB/GYN for her gynecologist, here in the UK, a woman has a GP (Primary) who must refer her to a gynecologist if she wants to go and see one. This makes it all the more difficult, and embarrassing, for women - especially shy women - to broach the subject with their GP. And if you do not have a good relationship with your assigned GP, well, you might be inclined to put off making the appointment, as did I.

Now, I am not a fan of our GP. We are looking to make a change to another one, but in the meantime, I knew I was going to have to deal with the doctor we had.
I really did not want to have to go in and discuss this with him, and this contributed to my reluctance to make an appointment with him. Add to that that my darling husband was working out of town in a difficult situation, and I just didn't want to go.
But these all were excuses and I had no other choice.
I made the appointment in late January and went in to see him in early February. He referred me to a clinic at the women's hospital for a simple diagnostic test.

I was infuriated with him because of this. I wanted to see a practicing, gynecologist, and he was sending me for a scan! This is just another way women are manipulated within the system, and must defer to one doctor in order to even try to be seen by a specialist.

I went in to the clinic on my assigned day and waited my turn. I was called in by a technician who explained what procedures she would be doing that day. The first was a belly scan. Depending on its results, determined whether or not she would do an internal exam and take some measurements of my womb. In the end, both tests were done.

Let me pause here to say, that of everyone in the hospital that day, this technician was the only person who was insensitive, heartless and cold. In the documents I received prior to the examinations that day, it was said that I could ask the technician for results of the examinations, and that she would be able to reveal them in a limited way.
I asked her what she had seen and what it meant. Her reply was this, " The lining of your womb is about 4 times the thickness it should be."
When I asked what that meant, she said, 'If I told you that, it would scare you to death.'
Then she instructed me to go to the gynecological clinic to be seen by someone else.

Naturally, her remarks made me believe I was a dead woman walking. And little did I know how close to the truth, that indeed, was.
I waited for hours to be seen in the very busy clinic, all the while struggling to remain calm but fearing the worst. Finally, I was seen by a very loving, caring woman who did another internal exam with a camera to try to discover more about my condition.
She could not get her tools to work properly so she sent me to a different area of the clinic where they could try to get some tests done with proper specialty equipment.

I was then sent to another specialist, in both room and person, for another attempt with the camera. But my body was having none of it.
So an appointment was made for me to return later that week, when the doctor who specialised in these procedures would give it a try.
In the meantime, I was informed about what to expect given different outcomes of the examinations.

I was told it was more than likely fibroid tumors and that it would be a simple removal of them and that would be that. When I returned to the clinic to see the doctor again, he was so sure it was going to be uterine fibroids, he actually asked me to take part in a study.
But the results of his biopsy and examinations took a different path.
Interestingly enough, my pap smear test came back negative. But the biopsy of the pollups revealed there were 'pre-cancerous' cells in the womb.

I was invited to return to the hospital to see a doctor specialising in oncology and it was her recommendation that I have a complete removal of my uterus, ovaries, and cervix - and possibly lymph nodes, too.
What had been discovered in my womb was pre-cancerous cells and it was best to take no chances.
Surgery was scheduled for April 26th and I had the procedure late Monday and was home by Thursday evening of the same week.

I know, I know, this has been a long and wordy post after so much silence on my part.
But I wanted to tell the story because I believe it is a common one.
As women, we take for granted that our bodies do weird things, have odd discharges, bleed sometimes when it is not expected, and so on.
From the moment we enter puberty, it is a long struggle with what changes we will have to put up with next!

Just look at the way different women experience the joy of pregnancy!
Some fly through it without a care, others are wrought with problems.
We are often told that what we are experiencing at any given time is 'common' and not unusual.
So naturally, when you are a fifties-something woman who has been experiencing menstrual cycles for decades, you too would probably not think it odd to be bleeding, yet again.

So my message to you all is this - it is not normal to bleed after menopause.
I can't even think about what my outcome might have been had I waited any longer.
And I am ashamed that I waited as long as I did.

If you have gone through menopause, and have experienced bleeding, no matter how minor, do not wait a single day.
Bleeding after menopause is is sure sign that something is not right.
Go to your doctor right away, no matter how odd you feel about it or how shy you are.
Get tested and live a long and healthy life.

NB: 23 May 2010 - UPDATE:
Letters arrived yesterday in the post from the surgeon. Microscope tests of the removed tissue revealed it was, in fact, cancer.
It was all contained within the womb and nothing had the chance to spread.
Thank God.
Be ever so careful and watch for signs that will provide you with a positive outcome, too.


To learn more, go to WebMD, and to MedicineNet for signs and symptoms.

Happy to be home and writing again!
xxx
Maggie

Instant Garden

The overgrown area behind our utility room was driving me crazy.
Old blackberry vines poked out of the soil everywhere and while long abandoned and cut rose bushes kept them company among the assorted other weeds.Weather permitted a day of pulling weeds and pruning back vines and some digging in the still soft and winter-wet soil.


Once the tiny area had been cleared, I transplanted a hydrangea bush that had been struggling to survive in the meager soil left in its original pot.
Next I added some already flowering daffodil plants I purchased at Ellenden Farm Market.
Some forget-me-not flowers had sprouted between the pavers on the patio, so they, too, were uprooted and added to the flower bed.

With all of the digging, I had uprooted some grape hyacinths (Muscari armeniacum) and so some of them were returned to the patch, too.The purple primrose flowers that were crunched in together were then relocated and some yellow ones added, too. In fact, the only 'new' plants I added were the daffodils and the yellow primrose - all the rest I already had in the garden.

But the piece de resistance, as far as I was concerned, was the discovery and addition of wee wild violets. In fact these tiny plants were the inspiration for the instnat garden in the first place.
I have missed these tiny harbingers of spring since my move here to the UK.
Originally, I found them growing wild in my front garden's lawn when I purchased my previous home in the US. I carefully removed them, over the years, and transplanted them along the edges of trees and basement windows.You will not believe how big they grow when placed in the proper conditions!
The spread out and multiply to become proper hedgerows of large, bright green leaves and sprightly purple flowers each year.

I discovered three very tiny plants trying to find a bit of sunlight under some shrubs along the perimeter of the garden. My plan to use them as a border and add to them whenever I could find more, was set.

Then to my wonderment and surprise, I found more of them right next to the area I was digging up - and nowhere near where the originals were found!

See the little violets growing in among all of the grasses and weeds and flowers?

So they were dug up and added, too.
You will see some more photos of them as they begin to grow and become the border I know they can develop into!

In the meantime, the instant garden in a huge success with a small spot waiting for a visit to the rose garden center for a climbing fragrant gorgeous rose bush!


Happy gardening!
xxx
Maggie

Yellow

It's all about spring and the tidings it brings in the form of yellow!

Forsythia bushes are filled with sunshine as they wave in the wind like flags bearing signs of better weather to come.

Daffodils burst upon the scene where only a week ago there was mud and damp grass and grayness all abound.
Now we see bursts of yellow-colour trumpets heralding the arrival of spring.

Sweet Primrose flowers, yellow among them but coming in all colours of the rainbow, too, co-mingle with the daffodils to add a festive variety with which to play off of the bright and cheery flowers.
We are blessed to enjoy such gorgeous sights in early spring each year.

And this year is even more profound as we leave the dreariest and coldest of winters well behind and embrace the warm soft breezes that bring memories of summers past and soon to behold.
Welcome Spring!

xxx
Maggie

Ethel Dietz Nichols sitting on rock in garden Date: ca. 1911-1915

Daffodils
(1804)

I wander'd lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretch'd in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.


The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:

I gazed -- and gazed -- but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

- William Wordsworth
(1770-1850)

The Gift of Love

Deborah, my sister, made this little Stanley dog for me.

I know, I know, I missed Valentine's Day so why the look backwards?
I wanted to write on Valentine's Day, but it was on a Saturday and my husband is home only on weekends right now, so anything other than spending time with him and our daughter, Katie, is really out of the question. So since that day I have been thinking about how to fit everything in that I want to write about without boring you all to distraction. It won't be easy, the list is long.

So why should the list be long and what the heck is on the list anyway?
I had been thinking about Valentine's Day and how it is celebrated in the United States versus how it is celebrated here in the United Kingdom.
Here is is strictly a day for lovers. I discovered that my first year here when I went looking for cards to send to America to my children. No cards were found and I was told why by shop clerks.

In contrast, in the US, the day is considered a day for everyone to share love with one another.
And it begins in the home as children and carried through to school, too. Some of my oldest memories of childhood include the yearly Valentine exchange in the elementary classroom.
It begins weeks before the actual day, when the teacher distributes brown paper bags for the children to decorate. (Posh teachers get white bags now!) The use of paper doilies, crayons, and all manner of trims and embellishments were used. Naturally, your name would be quite prominent!
These were completed and tucked away until February 14th when they would be taped to the edge of your desk and everyone would have a turn at walking around the classroom to deposit little paper Valentines in the bags. Someone would bring in treats (probably the teacher) of candy and cupcakes and drinks and a party would ensue.
There was always a bit of candy in the Valentine bags, too, especially, Conversation Hearts.

It is much the same in classrooms today. The main difference is that in my youth you gave Valentines to those you wished and now you are required to give each child a card whether or not you like them. It is insurance to make certain no child is left out of the caring and love intended for the day. A nice improvement.

In high schools today, young girls get gifts of flowers, candy, soft toys, and more from their sweethearts. It is a controversial subject within the schools as many girls are left out and stigmatized for not getting things, and/or having a boyfriend. Some boys and girls give gifts to each other secretly, while some girls give gifts openly to each other. No matter what your take on this, it is still a sign of love being shared.

When my own children were little, I followed a tradition my mom had with us when we were growing up. I would have a small treat for the kids waiting for them on the dining room table, or it might have been tucked away in a lunch bag. It was always a foil-wrapped chocolate heart or the same item on a sick in the form of a lollipop. Conversation hearts and gummy hearts and wee foil choco hearts also found their way into lunch sacks along with a little Valentine, too.

Valentine's Day is a day some people refer to as a 'Hallmark made-up day' in order to get people to buy greeting cards and flowers and candy. Who knows? Maybe it is. It does rank right up there with Sweetest Day and Grandparent's Day. But the latter two are recent inventions and St. Valentine's Day has been around a long, long, time. Evidence of this is found in the intricate and beautiful Victorian Valentine's Day cards found in Ephemera shops or sales.

It would make me sad to think that we needed a reminder to show our love for each other by creating a day for it - any day, St. Valentine's Day included. I like to think that these days are just special days for love, not the only days for love. And love comes in so many packages!

My sister, Deborah made this little sewing kit for me. I adore it!

I love when I witness something loving. It is like a precious little sign that love is out there.
Last week I noticed a family having lunch next to our table in a carvery pub. It was unusual because the family had four children - something not seen too often in these days of families with only two children. The mother remained behind at the table tending to the baby in the pram and one of the youngest children. Her husband took two children with him to go and get their food.
When he returned to the table the mom and young toddler went for their dinners while the dad remained behind with the older kids. Nothing unusual here, right?
When the mom returned to the table, the rest of the family was nearly finished eating.

The mom began cutting food for the toddler as her own plate was getting colder.
By the time she had finished preparing the toddler's plate, the baby in the pram was restless and wanting his dinner.
The mom struggled with a bottle in one hand and her fork in another but only momentarily. Wordlessly, her husband appeared from the other side of the table, removed the bottle from her hand, and nodded in the direction of the place he had been seated. She swapped seats with him and proceeded to eat her lunch in peace while he proceeded to feed the baby in the pram, bottle, dinner in a dish he removed from the baby bag, et all.
It was a tender scene filled with love for one another and caring and sharing the load, so-to-speak. He wasn't asked to come and help, he just saw a need and filled it. Amazing.

It isn't perfect, but I love it just the same. A linen heart 'wallet' with lucky shamrocks.

Everyday things that are gifts of love include, an unexpected call from a friend or family member; seeing the little daffodil sprouts peeking up through the snow and dirt; a gift from a loved one made with her own hands; Jenny wren building her nest in a shelterd spot under an canopy in your garden; a cozy fire; a favourite piece of china; a hand embroidered vintage piece of linen; a warm lazy day; and so many more!

You don't need a special day to show you care - any day will do.
Go on then - share the love!

xxx
Maggie

Where Do I Begin?

Our Christmas tree 2009

My sister, Deborah, made the Stanley Terrier Ornament Other ornaments are vintage and collected over time

This one, or one like it (I collected them to give to my children and do not know which one of us has the original) has been on my tree since I was a little girl

Should I say, Merry Christmas or Happy New Year?
Do I go way back to mid December to try to catch up - or - perhaps way back to February 2009?
It has been one long and crazy year!

Angel Pyramide

First of all, I would like to say that I hope Santa brought you everything you wished for and that this year, 2010, is all you dream it will be filled with happiness, good health, lifelong friends, and all the joys of family.

Our holiday was lovely spent quietly with family and friends.

Our collection of antique and vintage tree toppers - some right from Germany!

Our daughter, Elizabeth and her husband, Joe could not be with us, nor could our son Jonathan and his fiancee, Stephanie. We missed them desperately and hope that this year will be one where we can all share the holiday together.

Some of you may know that my husband lost his job last February. The recession was in full swing and his company was losing business every day. More than half of the workers and management were made redundant and Jim was one of them. His new job was to look for work and apply for jobs, every single day - which he did without complaint. It did get very depressing some days as nothing seemed to come of all his hard work. He had a few scattered interviews over long periods of time, but nothing came of them and the word was that there were as many as 300 applicants for every 'real' advertised job. And the harsh reality was that most of the hundreds of jobs he was applying for didn't actually exist.

Finally, the week before Christmas we had the good news that Jim was hired at a company in the south of England.

Now we live in the middle of England, and Jim was born and raised here so this move will be both an adventure and a bit sad for him, too. But oh what it means to us right now!
Jim is living two lives: one here with me and our daughter, Katie, on the weekends, and another in the south five days a week.

Of course I worry about him all the time and this recent rash of terrible weather doesn't help matters! I thought I had left snow behind me in Buffalo, New York!

A view of our neighbour's garden right after the first round of heavy snow

We found a lovely cottage to share with some wonderful people, a cat and a dog, who we lovingly refer to as 'holiday pets' even though work is far from a holiday for Jim! So he is all set there, living about a city block away from the sea, with all the comforts of home.
He will continue this commute until we find a place to move and live.
And there is so much to do and to prepare!
And all the while I am reminded of a time we spent, not so very long ago, in a similar situation.

We married in 2005 but our first year of marriage was spent apart while I remained in America preparing and selling my house there and settling my affairs before moving here to the UK.
The Internet kept us close. It was a place to meet and chat and send messages and photographs.
We both subscribed to International phone services and talked everyday. Surely if we could do this for over a year, across 3500 miles, we will be up to it again with only 150 miles between us?
So while I am keeping the home fires burning, Jim is earning the money for fuel, and this year will surely run it course with excitement and new stories to share.
Keep a watch of this space . . .
xxx
Maggie