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Thursday, October 15, 2020

News Trend Happy Fourth Day Of Christmas|Actual

Each year as Christmas approaches, the handmade ornament wheels in my brain start to turn.

Always, my goal is to produce a little trinket to share with family and friends but the fine points of each creation is totally left to my whims. Often, my inspiration comes from certain materials - wood, paper, beads - or colors or random ideas that mash up in my brain.

This year, though each of those factors played a role, my ornament design was primarily a nod to the themes of my life during the past year.

^ Random rectangles of air-dry clay, roughly hewn into rectangles with a toothpick and speared twice to create hanging holes. My process was intentionally raw and unrefined; my finished product turned out nice and scruffy.

^ Pristine, shiny, delicate red baubles with fancy filigreed fasteners. I didn't have to do a single thing to prepare these beauties for the project - they were pure and perfect from the get-go.

I know. That sounds like quite a bit of philosophical baggage for a bitty little Christmas ornament to carry. But hear me out.

^ There's an undeniable contrast between the two elements that pleases me. I like mis-matchy things.

More than ever before, this was a year of yin and yang for me. Some parts of my life were gilded and shining and almost perfect; others were irreconcilably flawed. Although I would usually choose to live comfortably in the merry middle, these intense and opposite experiences reminded me that there is also grace and peace to be found in the extreme highs and lows.

^ Golden cursive is hand-painted and therefore less than perfect, but provides a counterpoint to the two extremes. The detailed, repetitive brush work is like therapy for me.

So whether your year was a blissfully uneventful stroll through the seasons or a walk on the wild side, like mine, I hope that you have found beauty and joy in the journey.

^ VoilĂ ! Say hello to my 2015 Ornament of the Year.

And now, for the love of Pete, let's all buckle our seat belts and hold on to the handrails as we discover what 2016 might have in store.

* * * * *

For more Ornament of the Year posts, check these out:

2017

2016

2015

2014

2013

2012

2011

* * * * *

Celebrate the Twelve Days of Christmas with me!

The First Day

The Second Day

The Third Day

The Fourth Day

The Fifth Day

The Sixth Day

The Seventh Day

The Eighth Day

The Ninth Day

The Tenth Day

The Eleventh Day

The Twelfth Day

AndEpiphany too.

Wednesday, October 14, 2020

News Trend Happy Third Day Of Christmas|Actual

"The universe is pure geometry - basically, a beautiful shape twisting around

and dancing over space-time." - Antony Garrett Lisi

"There is geometry in the humming of the strings, there is music in the spacing of the spheres."

- Pythagoras

My new wreath is pure geometry.

A basic five-sided shape, repeated seven times over and connected with a bit of reinforcement.

The design of this himmeli masterpiece is the love child of a traditional Scandinavian folk art and a fearless DIYer named Mandi.

I simply followed her directions and voil?! A handful of brass tubes now sing with the music of the universe on my front door.

And Ranger, for his part, simply noticed a beautiful chance to escape.

* * * * *

Celebrate the Twelve Days of Christmas with me!

The First Day

The Second Day

The Third Day

The Fourth Day

The Fifth Day

The Sixth Day

The Seventh Day

The Eighth Day

The Ninth Day

The Tenth Day

The Eleventh Day

The Twelfth Day

AndEpiphany too.

News Trend Happy Christmas Eve|Actual

Hallelujah.

After countless years of staying up ridiculously late on Christmas Eve to get my presents all wrapped, I have finally come up with a solution to my masalah.

I stay up ridiculously late on the night before Christmas Eve instead.

Problem solved and Happy Christmas Eve to you and me!

News Trend The Agony And The Irony|Actual

"The agony and the irony: they're killing me (whoa.)"

 - Harvey Danger

I love sending Christmas cards

I really, really do.

Over the years, my ritual has grown as many steps as Santa has bunions but I don't mind:

Creating my own cards.

Composing a newsy note about the fam's current events.

Personalizing each letter with a few special paragraphs for that recipient.

Choosing a photo that captures a fun moment in our year.

Addressing each card as I reflect on that person and what they have meant to me.

Delivering big stacks of cards to the post office where they are sent off willy-nilly across the planet.

I get huge satisfaction form this annual task.

And I do it because I want to; not because I have to.

But at the same time, I must confess. Sometimes I really hate this job.

The entire production hangs over my head, a heavy weight of responsibility.

My all-too-short pre-Christmas prep time is never long enough to get the job done.

And the celebratory mood of the Twelve Days is dampened as I scramble to get this final task stricken from my month-long to-do list.

Finishing my cards is always, ALWAYS a drama for me.

Still. I do it because I want to; not because I have to.

I've come to accept the agony and the irony of my annual Christmas card battle of the spirits, and honestly, it's become a funny little tradition all on its own.

P.S. I finished my 2015 cards tonight. Wahoo!!

* * * * *

Celebrate the Twelve Days of Christmas with me!

The First Day

The Second Day

The Third Day

The Fourth Day

The Fifth Day

The Sixth Day

The Seventh Day

The Eighth Day

The Ninth Day

The Tenth Day

The Eleventh Day

The Twelfth Day

AndEpiphany too.

Tuesday, October 13, 2020

News Trend My Homemade Potato Salad|Actual

One sunny Saturday each summer, my mom would toss the four of us kids into the car and haul us off to the annual family reunion. Along the way, we would get firm reminders of what polite behavior looked like, and some general threats - no, I would call them promises - of the malice that would fall to us if we scrapped or sulked in front of the relatives.

She didn't need to worry. Presiding over the reunions were my four German great-uncles who were truly giants among men. The shortest of the group checked in around 6'2", and as a child, I remember my knees knocking together as I gazed up, up, up to look at them. Funny that I was frightened though - they were a kindly lot. Very short on words, but always smiling around the cigars clenched between their teeth at the fine youngsters swimming at the shallow end of their gene pool.

No child with an ounce of sense would misbehave in their midst.

^ My grandmother and her nine siblings grew up on a farm in Lapeer County, Michigan. Two of her brothers, my great-uncles, farmed all their lives - Uncle Pat on the original family land and Uncle Mickey on the acreage across the road and down a way.

Our family reunions usually landed in one of their back yards, and one year, I believe at Mickey's place, we discovered an old bulldozer sitting off in a distant field. My elder brother put on his best simulated driving performance and I was his enthusiastic audience.

For what it's worth, those are my father's legs.

But let me backtrack. As my mom was loading us up into the car, she also set a casserole or serving dish of some sort onto one of our laps and firmly instructed, "Make sure this stays safe."

Our family reunions were potlucks, and my mom went all out on preparing a crowd-pleasing side dish.

My mom's favorite dish to bring to family reunions was her seven-bean salad. Green, kidney, navy, black - I can't recall which all she mixed together in her large green casserole dish, and left to marinate in a vinaigrette dressing overnight. She loved that concoction but I must admit, it was too tangy and, well, bean-y for me.

I much preferred her potato salad. Now this was not a German potato salad, as this German family considered typical. My mom's fairly generic potato salad featured potatoes, hard-cooked eggs, celery, and mayo; in other words, it was a perfect blend of basic flavors that felt safe and familiar to our childish palates.

In other words, I loved it.

Decades have rolled by. My dear grand uncles and their sisters, including my grandmother, Clara, have long since passed, and the reunions have slipped into history.

But I promise you, my mom's potato salad lives on.

For every picnic holiday - Memorial Day, Independence Day and Labor Day - all through my daughters' lives, I've whipped up a big batch of these simple, tried and true flavors. Even my husband, good German that he is, used to suggest that my recipe would be improved by some vinegar or at least for heaven's sake some yellow mustard, has given up and given in to my merk of basic.

Oh, the sacrifices we must make for harmony in the family.

* * * * *

Now to be totally honest, this is the kind of dish best made from memory and gut instinct, rather than a particular recipe.

Normally, a few hours before dinner, I start the cooking process by deciding whether or not I want leftovers, and then choosing either my large or medium sized cooking pot.

Cooking a small pot of potato salad is a language I don't speak.

^ Today I decided to use my large pan: 15 fairly small potatoes, 6 eggs (I might have used 8 but we only had 6), a cup of mayonnaise, a half cup of milk, and celery. This is definitely not enough celery so I sent my husband to the store to buy more.

Once I decide on the pot size, I gather my ingredients and start adding ingredients based on proportions.

^ Let's be honest. As I'm cooking, my potato pot almost always overflows. But as long as the water level stays above the potatoes and eggs - and I can always add more if needed - there is no harm done.

Scrub and cube enough unpeeled red potatoes to fill about tiga/4 of the pan.

Tuck in some eggs. I cook my eggs along with the potatoes, and I just eyeball the proportion of egg to potato.

Once the pan is boiling along on medium high, I chop up some celery. Sometimes, if I'm feeling crazy, I add some sweet onion too.

^ True confession. After completing this step, I momentarily turned my back on this bowl to put the milk and mayo back in the fridge. Gracie, who had been politely lying nearby, suddenly lost control.  In a flash, she bolted across the room, leaped paws up onto the counter in front of the bowl and got in one or two good licks before I turned around and caught her in the act. So I dumped this bowl of dressing out and started over.

Whisk the half cup of milk, give or take, into the cup of mayonnaise, more or less, to create a creamy dressing that will spread easily and evenly over the salad. If I want to make my husband happy, I might add a little yellow mustard or white vinegar to the dressing at this point.

But that's a mighty big if.

Set the dressing in the fridge to bide its time.

^ Don't worry if the potatoes are a bit crumbly. All those little bits are going to get stirred up with the dressing and the eggs and the celery, and the end result is going to be creamy heaven.

After about ten minutes, when the potatoes are fork tender, drain the contents of the pot into a colander and run under cool water. Rinse the pan out with cool water too. Submerge the eggs in a bowl of cold water. Hard boiled eggs peel much more easily if they sit in cold water for a spell, immediately after cooking.

Once the potatoes are cooled off and well drained, load the pan back up with first the potatoes,

My husband is still at the store fetching the rest of the celery. I'll add it later.

Next the celery,

^ And don't worry about the eggs looking messy either. Once they are chopped and stirred in, they will be adored for their taste rather than their handsome appearance.

And finally peel the eggs and toss them in on the top.

Now tuck the pan into the fridge and tell it to cool its heels till dinnertime.

* * * * *

Just before serving, pull the pan of potatoes and friends as well as the dressing from the fridge.

Fish out the eggs, dice them into bite-size bits and drop back into the pan.

Pour the dressing into the salad and stir. When the salad looks appropriately well-dressed, stop. If it still looks dry after using all the dressing, mix up another small batch and keep adding till the salad looks good.

Transfer the potato salad or a portion thereof to a serving dish.

If you have time for one more step, snip some fresh chive and present it either on the side or sprinkled over the top.

Serve to small children in the presence of towering uncles and if possible, wink at them and smile as they clean their plates.

* * * * *

Ready for more stories about my most dearly beloved, tried-and-true homemade meals?

My Homemade Lasagna

My Homemade Macaroni and Cheese

My Homemade Spaghetti and Meatballs

My Homemade Grilled Cheese Sandwich

My Homemade Cold Tuna Noodle

My Homemade Beef Stir Fry

My Homemade Beef Stew

My Homemade Parmesan Chicken Nuggets

My Homemade Enchiladas

My Homemade Chicken Salad

My Homemade Cranberry Apple Crisp

My Homemade Pasta Primavera

My Homemade Pad Thai

My Homemade Quiche

My Homemade Potato Salad

My Homemade Cobb Salad

My Homemade French Toast

News Trend Armed And Dangerous|Actual

"When I prepare, I am not messing around." -Conor McGregor

In my garage, I keep a kit of painting supplies.

Because, as much as I like to plan out my home improvement projects, I know that there will be times when the urge to paint a room or a door or a piece of furniture will be so overwhelming that I will skip the planning phase and simply leap in with both feet.

It's happened before. It'll happen again.

So I figure I might as well be prepared.

Last weekend, I noticed that my kit had become a bit untidy and depleted. What a perfect opportunity for a soul-cleansing cleaning and organizing project.

First, I:

took all the rubble out of the drawers,

sorted through,

threw out the old and worn bits, and

made a list of new items to purchase.

No worries - my shopping ban allows me to replace household maintenance items as necessary so these purchases were allowable.

Next, I dragged the empty drawers and the frame of the cart into my sunny front yard, and hosed the royal heck out of them.

My neighbors must be so entertained. My house is situated right at the front of this neighborhood of dead-end cul-de-sac streets, so for thirty or forty families, the only way in or out is right past my front door and my never-ending parade of crazy projects.

With my newly refreshed stack of supplies and clean-as-a-whistle plastic cart, I joyfully sorted out my painting gear into the drawers as follows:

^ Paint stirrers and paint chips.

I keep track of the paint colors for all my rooms by saving the chips, jotting down the room where each one is used, and clipping the samples together. I used to keep my old paint stirrers and write the name of the room on the handle, but that system actually requires more work. I still have a few holdover stirrers from the old days but I like my new book of paint chips much better.

^ Masking tape, paint hardener, scraping tools, wood filler.

I used to hate prep work with a bloody passion, but as I have matured as a painter and a human being, I now remind myself of the many virtues of rencana and the fact that haste makes waste, and encourage myself to take time to start each painting job properly.

No matter how many times I tell myself that, I still bloody hate prep work. But I force myself to do it and appreciate the results.

P.S. My husband keeps my spackle with his tools so I lift it out of his kit when I need it.

^ Big rollers, little rollers and a couple extra kecil handsets.

My mother trained me to wash my roller after each project, dutifully scrubbing and rinsing out the vestiges of each paint color so that the roller could be reused for the next.

I used to do that.

But those days are gone, baby, gone. I keep plenty of extras on hand and pitch the old ones at the end of each project.

Several years ago, when I discovered these small size paint rollers, I fell quickly and madly in love. I keep a good stash of both large and small hand rollers near my paint inventory, and a few extra small size newbies in the drawer. Super handy when you're trying to convince someone - say a daughter or two - to paint with you. Offering up a merk spanking new mini roller, I have found, is an effective way to gain cooperation.

And then there's my very most favorite large roller handle but that I keep in a different drawer. Stay tuned.

^ Brushes!

I know this sounds a little weird, but I get a special thrill when I use a paintbrush for the first time.

Opening the Velcro fastener on paper sleeve, unfolding it and slipping it off to run my fingertips through the soft, silky bristles, vowing to myself that THIS TIME after I use it, I will clean it to perfection so that no one could ever tell that the brush has been used.

Oh, the fantasies that run through my mind.

My two little one-inch brushes on the far left have seen me through several projects each and are still looking good.

The middle brush...Oh wait! I just remembered that the middle brush is sitting out in my garage at this very moment, where I left it after today's project, wrapped in a plastic Target shopping bag between coats. As soon as I finish writing this sentence, I'm running off to clean it.

Ok, I'm back. Good news. The bag did its job of keeping the bristles from drying out, and the soap and water clean-up was successful. Yay.

On the far right are some used but well-maintained exterior bad boys, who will be getting another workout on my garage doors in the next few weeks. Brushes at my house are never bored.

.

^Drop cloths, plastic bags, roller pan liners and my favorite yellow roller handle.

This bottom drawer is at least twice as deep as the other four, so it's here that I stash larger and bulkier items:

several unused plastic drop clothes as well as one lightly-used contoh folded up and hiding underneath,

a black plastic trash bag cut with arm-and neck-holes that serves as my stylish and highly effective painting poncho when I'm going hard on a messy project,

a couple small size roller pan liners (the large liners are stored with the paint) and

my most super favorite thirty-year-old yellow roller handle, complete with splishes and splashes of paints I've used over the years. This may not be the most slick or well-designed or even tidy product available to painting enthusiasts such as myself, but I love it madly and will never give it up.

* * * * *

So there it is, my painting kit, all gussied up and decked out for who knows what painting projects that may come my way. I'm armed and dangerous and most definitely ready to paint.

* * * * *

Wanna read a classic story about my passion for painting?

A few years back, on the last Saturday before Christmas, I was struck by an overwhelming and eventually irresistible urge to paint my dining room.

For all the details and plenty of photos, go here.

* * * * *

As I mentioned, I'm on a year-long shopping ban though my rules definitely allow for painting supplies.

Read more about my journey to mindful consumption:

Reading Inspiration

My Shopping Ban Rules

My Decluttering Rules

The First Test

Sometimes It's Okay To Hold On

Setting Myself Free

Armed And Dangerous

A Decluttering Update: Family Photos

A Shopping Ban Update: Three Months In

Keepers

News Trend We Are All Together|Actual

"I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together." - The Beatles

Happy Birthday to me.

Happy New Year to us all.

As 2016 kicks into gear, we all rejoice in the precious gift of a fresh beginning, a clean slate, the ultimate annual do-over.

Truth be told, each one of us has the chance to seize this opportunity every single day of our lives. Whenever we feel life dragging us down or binding us up, we can - and we should - start a new chapter in the book of our lives.

Sill, it's awfully fun when we all turn over that fresh new laman at the same time.

Happy New Year to us, all together.

* * * * *

Celebrate the Twelve Days of Christmas with me!

The First Day

The Second Day

The Third Day

The Fourth Day

The Fifth Day

The Sixth Day

The Seventh Day

The Eighth Day

The Ninth Day

The Tenth Day

The Eleventh Day

The Twelfth Day

AndEpiphany too.