Decorating

Well….of course I can. What a question. But it was an issue for me. Because my Christmases  have almost always been celebrated around a decorated “Christmas Tree.” There were those lean years as a single mom that meant spending money for a tree meant cutting back on presents, so trees were out. I wanted my son to enjoy Christmas abundance even if it meant no tree. We always had other decorations out, stockings, things inherited from my Grams, but a few years it was my Ficus tree decorated with tiny lights, ribbon bows and candy canes. Festive yes, but not exactly the Christmas vision in my head.

Looking back those Christmases were some of the best. We had a big, over the top dinner, presents picked out just for my son and homemade Christmas cards, cookies and candy for friends. There was an abundance of love. That was enough.

As my finances improved, so did our Christmas celebrations, there was money for a tree, perhaps just a small one, but a tree nonetheless. And always the stocking filled to the brim with all manner of goodies. There were Christmases filled with friends, music and laughter and those big dinners.

I don’t know when the tree became such a big deal to me. Decorating a tree was something I looked forward to, year after year. I loved the white lights, the old ornaments, the sparkle. Decorating a tree to me is an art form. Each branch must have multiple ornaments, beginning with larger ones at the trunk and ending with tiny decorations on the tips of the branches. I use dozens of decorations. Bins and boxes of ornaments were stored waiting for their holiday release. It could take anywhere from two days to five to get it just right.

When Mr B and I moved into this house with the high ceilings, we got a 10 foot tree.  Not a huge tree by today’s standards, but I was in Christmas Heaven!! It was time to buy even more ornaments. Insert smiley face and ignore Mr Grumpy Pants over in the corner. Each year I give a new ornament to every family member. I started this tradition when Trev was very young and now his old ornaments have been passed down to his children, the ones we can still find anyway, apparently he was denied the hoarding gene.  sigh.

I continued the tradition after marrying Mr B and with the addition of the Grands, I’m a happy ornament shopping Grams!  As the kids grow into adulthood and leave to begin lives of their own, they’ll have a box of Christmas memories to  enjoy and a head start on decorating their own trees. It’s a tradition that I still follow today, even thought the kids are grown, they still get a new Christmas ornie each year. It’s sweet to see the progression of ornaments, from Super Heroes and Princesses to more sophisticated choices, they’ve grown up and out grown the super heroes, although I still have princesses, I mean come on! Princesses born are Princesses forever.  Right??

Where was I? Oh, the year of the 10 footer. I was beyond excited! I got to shop for new ornaments for me! ME!!! Oh joy! (Still ignoring Mr Grumpy Pants.) Those days there was a tree in every room in the house, even the bathrooms. Furniture had to be moved to make room, regular decor needed to be packed away to make room for Christmas.  I was the Queen of  Christmas! In some rooms there were 2 trees, sometimes 3. These were mostly small but they were still trees, and each room had its own theme.

The dining room had a 7 foot tree and  was snowflakes and snow people. Mr B’s small tree was aviation inspired, a nod to his military service as an F16 pilot and then a commercial airline guy. His bathroom was all about golf, the guest bedroom was always festooned with girlie Christmas and the guest bath was my junker’s tree, decorated with escutcheons, door knobs and skeleton keys.  A woodland tree and Santa decorated the tiny living room and the kitchen tree was an ode to eating, adorned with cookie cutters, old spoons and tiny china cups and saucers. You get the idea. There were trees, lots and lots of trees. The first year we had the “big” tree I was embarrassed at how skimpy the decorations were. But no one else seemed to care in the free-for-all of opening gifts. I hit the after Christmas sales and loaded up, determined not to feel embarrassed again.

As the kids got older so did I, and decorating that tree became a bit of an issue since I had to climb a ladder to decorate the top. I have major back issues and it became painful to “do’ the tree. Still I persisted. Mr B is not the Christmas King, he went along for the ride when the kids were young and even when the Grands were still living close by. But the tree was my domain and he was happy to let me have at it. He would put it up, and do the lights and hand the holiday baton to me. Then the miracle of pre-lit trees!!! He no longer had to fuss with, or fix those pesky light strings. He could put the tree sections together, place it where I wanted it, plug it in, then go enjoy a glass of beer while watching college football, or golf, or god forbid, tennis, while I fluffed, and cajoled the tree into shape and did my magic thing, turning faux into fabulous.

I gave up our 10 footer several years ago, it was just too much. So we gave it to our neighbors and bought a smaller 7½ footer. It lasted a couple of years but succumbed to the heat in the attic and disintegrated. Enter “Gloria.” A flocked, glorious pre-lit beauty. I loved Gloria with a Christmas passion, I moved all the Hallmark and brightly colored ornaments to a small 4 foot tree in the family room. Nothing but silver and gold and copper for Gloria. Oh my, the days spent getting the ornaments just right. Again I was spending 2-3 days bending over, stooping, squatting and yes, standing on a little stool to place Grandma’s angel. My back couldn’t take it even though I had stopped with the whole ornies on every branch thing. Besides, Gloria had like 700 tips or something astronomical like that. Even I couldn’t justify purchasing 1,000 ornies.

Plus there was Mr B who became a stranger, known only as Mr Grumpy Pants when it came time to move the bins, bags and boxes of “Christmas crap beauty,” down from the roof furnace, otherwise known as that “hotter than hell” attic crawl space. It took an afternoon, then I commandeered the ladder and headed to my closet’s top shelves to remove even more boxes of precious Christmas decor that couldn’t take the heat in hell. It was quite the production.

Last year I had to be honest and say it was too much. I cut back, I sent boxes of ornies to my Dil, I stopped with most of the trees, I had only 3 or 4 small ones plus Gloria. It required 3 trips to the chiropractor and a couple of days in bed, but I got the house decorated for our Christmas party and I was happy.

Putting it all away was a chore. I’m not one to keep Christmas up for long, by the time January 1 rolls around I’m craving simplicity. It takes longer to pack everything up because of course things have to be wrapped, placed in original boxes, etc etc. There are boxes stacked for days during the take down. And even I begin to wear Grumpy Pants, although mine are prettier than Mr B’s.  When it’s finally all put away, Mr B is  happy  not having to crawl into the hotter then hell attic for another year. He returns to his good-natured self the minute that attic door slams shut and he can say goodbye to Christmas and Mr Grumpy Pants. Me? I’m already making notes to myself for Christmas the next year. My Grumpy Pants are stored with the ghosts of Christmas Past.

This year, I actually dreaded getting the tree out. WHAT???? Was I ill? Did I suddenly catch a bad case of Grumpitis?? What the hell was wrong with me? I just wasn’t looking forward to all the pain and the issues that decorating Gloria would cause, what with the chiro visits and pain meds. So I made the decision to sell Gloria. Then I spent a couple of days whining and being the guest of honor at my very own pity party. How could I have Christmas? What would the house be without a treeee??? Oh whine, and then whine some more. I became ashamed of myself. Here I was, whining about not having a tree when so many have no homes, no money for gifts, and may not even know where they will be living January 1st. That put things in perspective.

So Gloria was sold to a nice family who promised to glorify her with lots of ornaments and sing carols around her. I brought out the little 4 foot tree and decorated him with lots and lots and LOTS of ornies.  I still had to bend and twist to do the little tree even though it was on a table, and I still had to see my chiro. Sooo, it’s a sure thing, I need to make even more changes.

The funny thing is, I’m OK with that. Not having a larger, main tree actually stirred my creative juices. I started donating boxes of ornies and greenery. I sold several more things. The more I sold and gave away the more excited I became. The years “Of Hallmark” didn’t make it down from the attic. I could have a simple farmhouse Christmas! Yes!!! If your idea of simple is greenery adorning every surface, and bowls  of ornaments and fairy lights, then Yes! It will be a simple Christmas.

Next year there may not be a tree at all and I’m OK with that. I already have ideas for using some of my more precious ornaments.  Or maybe I’ll have a pencil tree, pre-lit, unadorned except for the lights and the angel. Maybe not. Christmas isn’t about the tree. It’s about spending time with family, it’s about generosity and love. It’s about the birth of Christ. I’m definitely OK with that.

Create your Christmas sanctuary no matter where you live. Use a tree…..or not. Love the home you’re in.

I was thinking a couple of weeks ago. I mean, I think every day, all day and until the wee hours of the morning. But on this day I wandered aimlessly through the house, eyeballing rooms and looking for inspiration. What still needs to be done? What can I change? Am I happy with this vignette? Hmmm, my thoughts wandered to Christmas. I needed a quick and easy craft or project, and as I walked through that room that confounds me with all its gadgets and blinking lights, tools,  and timers, otherwise known as the kitchen, I suddenly remembered a recent Miss Mustard Seed post.  “Eureka!” I’d found my inspiration.

Remember making pomanders as a kid? I do. I made them almost every Christmas…..until I got to be a teenager and was just too cool to do elementary school crafts. My Grams would hang them in the closet where they would smell good for awhile and then just….smell. But she loved that I’d make them for her. So I thought if Miss Mustard Seed makes them, I could too. So I did. (Not that I can do everything Miss Mustard Seed does…. I mean come on, she’s Marian freaking Parsons.

Talk about easy. This is a great project for you to do with your kids. If you have any, if not, borrow your neighbors’, the moms will love you and the kids will have fun and go home with a present for said mom. Bonus!

The supply list is simple, you’ll need oranges, whole cloves and something sharp to make a pilot hole. I used a bamboo skewer but you could just as easily use a long nail. Just make sure whatever you use doesn’t make a hole larger than your clove stem. And supervise the kiddos so no one ends up with an eye poked out. Trips to the ER are sooo not fun. And will ruin your holiday mood. Plus there’s the whole “what-did-you-do-to-my-child thing if you borrowed a neighbor’s pride and joy.

This is so easy, I completed 3 while watching a Hallmark movie. During commercials. Took all of about 30 minutes. If you are artistic, you can make a pattern by using a sharpie and making small dots along your pattern line. You can use rubber bands to make sure you get your lines straight. Or you can use the eyeball it method. Guess which method I used?? If you guessed the completely helter skeleter eyeball it method, you know me pretty well!

I pushed holes with the skewer approximately every ¼ inch. Randomly. Then just pushed my cloves into the holes. If one looked a bit lonely, I made another hole and gave it a brother…or sister clove. That’s it. Then I cleverly put a dot of hot glue on top and used a star anise to add some pizazz.

Tips: Cover your work space with something you don’t mind getting juicy. I used an old cookie sheet covered with foil.

Dump some cloves out next to your oranges, so you don’t have to pick them out one by one from the tiny little jars.

Star Anise can be purchased in small amounts in your grocer’s Hispanic or international food section.

Soak your oranges in a bleach water mix  for a few minutes (dilute your bleach with water, I did 3 parts water to one part bleach and then rinsed,   patted my oranges dry and left them for the afternoon to make sure they were totally dry). It’s said this helps them last longer. It kills any fungi lurking on the orange skin. This is also recommended for keeping pumpkins longer in your autumn arrangements. (a little tip for next fall.)

Use barely ripe oranges for the longest life. If you use really ripe ones and don’t use the bleach rinse your pomanders will likely begin rotting in a few days.

If you want to hang your pomander, add T pins and ribbon to your supply list. Cut a length of ribbon and fold it so that the 2 ends meet and push the pin through the ribbon ends and into the pomander. Wait 24 hours for the juice to stop dripping and hang in your closet, or entry or mud room. Anywhere you want a lovely scent to waft.

The pomanders will last a couple of weeks. I made mine on the 11th of November and two are still going strong. I don’t think they’ll last much longer, they’re beginning to look a bit squishy and one has grown a lovely gray fuzzy sweater. And eeeuux, gross.

I seem to remember rolling them in some sort of powder when I was a kid. Orris Root maybe? Some fixative to help them last longer? For the life of me, I can’t recall what it was. If anyone knows, please email me.

These make a lovely hostess gift or something handcrafted for a special teacher. Or a gift you give to yourself.

Create a sanctuary no matter where you live. One room, one project at a time. Love the home you’re in.

I’m one of those people who fuss with tablescapes. I set something up that I think looks fine, even good and within 15 minutes I’m adding or removing things. Sometimes I even take everything off the table or the sideboard and start over. This autumn was no different. I started out with one look, couldn’t leave well enough alone, and through the weeks, I changed it up 3 or 4 times.

Imagine my surprise when, getting ready for Thanksgiving, I discovered something long overdue for the one-way trip to Goodwill. It isn’t as if I didn’t know it was in the Goodwill box, Hello! I put it there. But my mind sometimes conveniently forgets where I put things, and like a child I’m newly excited to re-discover something I’d forgotten about. This time it was the Thanksgiving platter I’ve had for years. It’s ugly. And scratched. Annnd made of Melamine. Oh yes, Melamine. That practical material manufactured in some mad scientist’s lab, something that was hailed as virtually unbreakable (that was big lie) easy to clean (lie again) and the answer to housewive’s prayers. (another whopper).

Melamine…. what’s in that anyway? Some god awful cancer causing ingredient? I don’t know but it’s not in my kitchen anymore. I remember we had lots of it and my Great Aunts were the Melamine queens. They even had ashtrays made of it, which always sported dozens of burn marks from the not-quite-extinguished butts. ugh.

The origin of my platter is lost to my memory, I have a hazy recollection of purchasing it at some big box store, maybe in the 70’s,  but couldn’t say when or where. Except that it traveled with us wherever we moved, and ended up in Florida in the early 90’s. I remember when my son was just a youngster and still capable of being amazed by his mother, that platter was brought out at Thanksgiving. It held no turkey, instead it held two roasted cornish game hens with all the Thanksgiving fixings. Trev was so excited to have his very own “turkey,” albeit a baby one, but one that was all his. This little treat was our tradition until he got old enough to figure out Mom had pulled a fast one and what he was eating was not turkey, but rather some strange little bird that may have been chicken is disguise.

He started  asking for “real” turkey. It made me a bit sad to give up that silly little cornish hen tradition that we shared. But what are old traditions if they no longer serve us? So we had real turkey, but always presented on that tacky melamine platter. I don’t remember when it got relegated to the the back of the cabinet under the sink, but we discovered it when I was preparing to marry Mr B and merge households. It got packed up and I forgot about it. Trev never mentioned it and perhaps he had forgotten it too.

After he died, I removed his things from a storage room he kept. Where all  his important things lived while he moved around. I saved some things for me, the rest was divided between his two daughters and close friends. The platter was in a box marked “kitchen” in his handwriting. In that box I found not only the platter but some special edition Crayola canisters, some vintage cracker tins and a small Jim Beam box. All things I remembered from the past. And as it turned out, he hadn’t forgotten the platter after all.

I couldn’t part with the platter. It held the memories of those baby turkey days, years of real turkey dinners and the days spent together. This past summer I was sorting things again, doing one of my semi-regular purge sessions. (when you have as much crap as I do, those semi-regular purges are necessary to keep a clear walking path through the house. I drew a map for Mr B so he wouldn’t get lost on his way to the bathroom.) The platter was put in the Goodwill bin, awaiting its final resting place with another family. And then……

And then the other day when I was in the midst of simplifying the dining table decor, I crawled into the attic in search of a vase I put up there. I spied it peeking out of the box, patiently waiting. Tail feathers gave it away. Inspiration struck. I told Mr B, “that old thing would make a cute art piece for fall in someone’s home.” He raised his eyebrows and smirked. I read his mind. It read, “Who would ever consider that crappy thing art?” Um……me, I did!! And so my most favorite autumn decor became….you guessed it, that ugly, scratched, tacky turkey platter. Proof positive that art is truly in the eye of the beholder.

It’s found its purpose. It will forever serve as the centerpiece on my sideboard where it displays its faded colors with pride.

What do you have stashed away in your home? What’s in your Goodwill box? Your attic? The basement? Bring out your memories and glory in your history…..no matter how tacky  or scratched. My son kept that platter with things that were important to him. Maybe he remembered those cornish hen days after all. I’ll never know. But I cherish the memory of that little boy, face split by a huge smile as he dug into his very own turkey.

Create your sanctuary with your memories, find a way to include your memory makers. Art can be anything. It doesn’t have to match your decor. You don’t have to spend lots of money. Decorate with things that make you smile, that speak to your heart. Your home is your sanctuary. Fill it with YOU.

“What’s in the oven?” I turned to see Mr B’s hopeful eyes as he came home from golf. “Um….Pine Cones.”  His eyes rolled up to the back of his head. And he walked off mumbling something about “Betty Crocker.”

I was surprised by the number of questions I got recently when I posted about bleaching pine cones on Face Book. I didn’t realize how many peeps hadn’t heard of it. So of course I needed to write a blog post about it. I mean, come on…..everyone needs to bleach some cones!  And this is easy, I promise.

You will need:

Dry, open pine cones. Don’t use those that have been scented. Scented cones won’t bleach, or at least that’s what I was told…..I never really tried after that because I trusted my source.  If you don’t have pine trees within a reasonable distance of your home, you can order unscented pine cones through Amazon. (If there is anything I can’t find on Amazon, I have yet to discover it.)   And if you’re picking up cones from under trees, make sure you choose fully opened ones. If they aren’t open that means they are still full of sap and won’t take the bleach.

Bleach

Water

Bucket or deep container

Something to hold the cones down while bleaching

Rubber gloves and safety glasses

I mix “about” 50/50 bleach and water,  truthfully I just eyeball it. I mix it so that the water still looks slightly yellow from the bleach. Don’t use full strength bleach, it will “eat” the petals from the cones. I’ve tried using full strength a couple of times with the same results. The cones were soft and mostly disintegrated after three days.

Make sure you wear gloves and safety glasses when mixing the bleach and water to avoid splashes in your eyes.

After the bleach and water is mixed, place your pine cones in the bucket and weigh them down with something. I mostly use a plate, turned upside down….I’ve used the bleach jug, or pots to keep the plate down. Doesn’t matter what you use as long as it won’t be harmed by the bleach. The object is to keep the cones under water. I turn mine after the first day just to make sure they get evenly bleached. I leave the cones in the mixture for two days.  You can go for three if your solution is weak. With practice you’ll get your procedure down for the results you want.

When pine cones are wet they close up. You’ll think the bleach isn’t working because frankly, they look yucky. (Technical term) They may be whitish and feel a bit slimey. Take them out at that point and rinse under running water. Drain for a few minutes on a paper towel while you set your oven to 150 degrees. I set mine at 200° if I’m in a particular hurry, which is often….um, because I was born without the patience gene. Place foil on an old cookie sheet and place the cones on the foil with a couple of inches between each cone for air circulation. No, they won’t stink up the kitchen if rinsed and after spending two or three days in bleach I’ve never seen any critters. The drying process will take several hours. Check your cones often.

Bake until the cones are about 75% open. Remove from the oven and let them continue to dry over the next few days. You can leave them in a sunny, dry place outside but it can take days for them to open. And who wants to wait days to see bleached pine cones??? Not me. Again…..no patience. It’s a curse. After the cones are fully open, you can spray them with a matte sealer, Krylon makes a good one for art projects. Fair warning…..sealers may darken the color a bit.

I’ve yet to achieve totally white cones. Mine come out various shades of tan and cream.  But I think they are lovely. I love the faded color as well as the texture they bring. You may think they’re not very light until you put them next to normal, unbleached cones. I did another batch a few days ago and left them in the bleach and water for three days, they came out lighter than the two day batch, but my solution was weak and I felt another day wouldn’t cause them any harm. It’s trial and error.

I was asked why I just didn’t paint them if I wanted white cones…..um, because they wouldn’t be “natural.”  I like that my cones are real, albeit not the color Mother Nature intended. There’s just something about taking a pine cone that’s perfectly fine, beautiful in its own right, and bleaching the crap out of it…. Improving on Mother Nature??? Maybe. It’s all about perspective. You may feel that I’ve ruined them and that’s OK.  I like my bleached cones.

As for Mr B, don’t feel too sorry for him. He got snickerdoodle cookies. Fresh from the oven. The Target oven. In the handy Target bakery.

Create the home you see in your heart, right where you are living now. Everyone deserves a sanctuary.

Hey everyone, things are slowly but surely getting back to normal here in my sanctuary. Mostly. There are still projects and repairs to be done after Irma, but that’s just the real life of home ownership.  There’s always something that needs doing. Today’s post is about bringing some fall into your home. It’s also one of the easiest projects I’ve done in awhile. And uses one of my favorite decor items…..old books. And no paint. gasp! No paint!

Remember cutting out paper doll chains in elementary school?  This project is like that……only different. OK….. it’s kind of like that. You’ll be cutting on a fold but your leaves will be separate. OK, it’s nothing like cutting out paper doll chains! But it IS easy.

I pick up old books regularly  at thrift stores. For $1.00 or less, an old book can be used in multiple ways, from acting as a riser for small lamps, plants and statues, to providing gift wrap, or paper for making paper mache. The muted color of old covers adds a sense of history to rooms and bonus! makes you look all Miss Smarty Pants and well read in the process. Larger books on birds and plants offer inexpensive art  by framing pages. Or frame a page that contains a passage that has special meaning to you.

I used to have an extreme dislike of cutting up old books. I still won’t destroy pages of most. I have a couple of stacks that give me a seemingly endless supply of project material. I’ll often scan and copy pages for projects. To me, destroying a book is akin to kicking a puppy. And I don’t kick puppies. But even I have to face the fact that an out of date atlas has served its purpose…. so it goes into the scrap pile for projects. And some old books are in such disrepair that using them for projects is actually a good thing. Recycling it so that the whole book doesn’t go into the landfill. I used both for this project, an out of date atlas that I’ve used for a couple other projects and a water damaged older book with discolored pages.  The color of those pages was perfect for adding some contrast.

You will need: books of your choice. Sharp scissors, fall leaf templates, or pressed and dried leaves to use as a template, a marker or pencil, and string, twine or ribbon.

First, fold your book pages in half and then trace the shape of the leaf being careful to put the top of the stem on the fold. (If you are using real leaves and there is no longer a stem, just draw one.)  Cut out your shape, making sure not to cut through the fold. You’ll end up with two leaves joined at the top of the stem. You don’t have to be precise. Just cut around the  lines you’ve drawn. Some of mine ended up with the pen outline still showing. I just turned them over and re-creased so that the pen markings were on the inside. The tracing lines can’t be seen. Or maybe they can and I wasn’t wearing my glasses….. If you are OCD, just cut ON the line. Or inside it. Perfect fall leaves from book pages!

Cut as many as you need to make a banner. Tie your string or twine on your mantel, across a shelf, along a buffet or bannister…..you get the idea. Then simply drape your leaves over the string. Slide them on the string evenly. That’s it. It can’t get any simpler than this project. Unless someone else does it for you…… I’m looking at you, Mr B. He loves when I eyeball him with a pair of scissors in hand. He gets really excited.

I used both the atlas pages and the discolored book pages so my leaves would have different colors. This project is one you can enjoy with your kids. Just make sure they use scissors with the rounded tips if they are under 10. “Stop running with those scissors, you’ll put someone’s eye out!!!” Oh, sorry, lost myself for a minute.

You can use construction paper or heavy gift wrap, kraft paper or butcher’s paper as well. There’s really no limit to the kinds of paper you can use with the caveat that it be sturdy enough to be folded and take a crease without tearing.

I found my templates online. Just google “leaf templates” and download and print your favorites. Cut them out and you have your template. You can also use real leaves or a craft wood leaf from Michaels, Joannes or Hobby Lobby.

This technique could also be used at Christmas. Think stars, mittens or angels. Valentines Day hearts. Easter bunnies. You get the idea.

I cut more than I needed and used the extras on my old galvanized “bulletin board” that found a temporary home for fall in the dining room. Or place one or two in a bowl of pine cones. Hey! I don’t live in an area with gorgeous fall leaves. I gotta make my fall leaves. Don’t judge.

Create the home you see in your heart. You deserve a sanctuary no matter where you live.