Out of my iPhone camera (using the Hipstamatic App) on a Sunday morning:
Decorating: Broken Ornaments and Coffee Cups
Yes, the decorating has begun. In fact, I’m almost done. On a whim, husband and I got our Christmas Tree on Wednesday, a few days earlier than usual. Yesterday, the tree was decorated. Not without mishaps: one of my favorite vintage ornaments fell and shattered into tiny shards; Don decided to have some coffee and while pouring it into a mug that had a tiny hairline crack, watched in horror as the mug exploded into pieces and coffee spilled onto everything – including Riley.
Now Riley smells like coffee.
Outside lights are up.
Trees are decorated.
Wreaths are hung.
House is a mess.
After I finish up today, the big bins will be carted back to their home in the shed.
I might even store all the summery porch paraphernalia. This is the longest I have ever let that particular chore go.
The dollhouse has been moved to the living room to make room for the Christmas tree. The decorating elves worked a little magic here, as well.
Don’t forget – next Tuesday’s Holiday edition of Defending the Small House will include a Linky Party. Take some pictures of your holiday home and share them with us!
Smooth Sailing
During this time that my Mom has been in rehab and, soon, a nursing home, my Dad and I have talked on the phone several times a day. Mom will never be back in the house she and Dad shared. That this is terribly sad is an understatement. My Dad is heartbroken. So our calls cover everything: the good, the bad, the sad, the heartbreak.
Dad worked for Michigan Bell Telephone Company for over 40 years. That probably accounts for the fact that he hates to talk on the phone. If Mom was home and well, these phone calls would not be happening. One nugget of good that has come from all of this is our talks. We’ve come to know each other on a deeper level. I’ve shared things with Dad that normally wouldn’t come up in the course of a one minute “Hi Dad, how are you?” conversation. And he’s done the same with me.
The other day, he told me a box was coming in the mail. Yesterday, it arrived. Packed carefully inside was this:
A beautiful wooden boat with cloth sails. Maybe a schooner? Here’s the story he shared with me. When Mom and Dad retired to their beautiful home in Northern Michigan after living downstate in Dearborn for nearly 40 years, they visited Mackinaw Island. This move ‘up north’ had been a dream of theirs for a long, long time. They had finally done it. When Mom saw this boat, she bought it for my Dad and gave it to him with the words, “There will be only smooth sailing ahead.”
That was 25 or so years ago. Dad gave this to Don and me with the wish that there be only “smooth sailing” ahead for us. I cannot put into words how deeply this touches me.
I really love this little ship. Welcome to Mockingbird Hill Cottage.
Thanks, Dad.
By the way, the whole time I have been taking pictures of the boat, I have been straddling this:
When Riley sprawls, he sprawls. He has yet to get up for the day. Typical boy; he likes to sleep in.
Have a lovely Friday.
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