time enough

It's not so bad taking care of a sick kid, vomit on the sofa aside. $400 for an emergency enzyme wash at 8:00 p.m. was the remedy, if you're curious. The couch still stinks, if you ask me. Of course I have been coveting a settee from Trianon for a few years now, so my olfactory perception may be tainted by an ulterior motive. Anyway. It's a rare thing for my gal to stay still for any reasonable length of time, a trait she no doubt inherited from me, so the past couple of days were a welcome break for us both. And Mulan really is one heck of a movie (insipid Disney soundtrack aside.) In between Mulan and Mulan 2 there was time to whip up a few holiday cards. Stella sat quietly at my side, transfixed by the thrum of the sewing machine. I don't know if Stella will remember that half hour when she's older, but I think I will.

Despite five years experience there are moments when I feel like a mom-imposter. I can't really explain it, but maybe you know what I mean. I don't mean a going-through-the-motions ennui (though there is that too on occasion.) It's more feeling like I've overstated my qualifications and somehow landed this job of mother of two and now what the hell am I supposed to do? It's the weight of responsibility. I heard that as adults we tend to recall our childhood in absolutes: it was either fantastic, wonderful, amazing or it was complete torture. I feel that way about Christmas. I have a tendency to get stress-y about Christmas because my own memories are, fortunately, fantastic, wonderful and amazing. Snow-dusted. Happy. Loud. And of course I want nothing less than the same for my kids. Yet the more time I spend at this parenting gig, the more I've begun to realize that the times that bring me the most happiness are when I'm not concerned with creating a perfect memory, and I just enjoy the moment - whatever it is.

cute as a button

I can't keep up with it all. So much creative genius out there. I bought these very cute retro-y recipe cards here, checked out her blog and fell in love with these mini wreaths. They combine two of my current passions: buttons and scalloped edges. I'm imagining them in fabric. Or paper but with a glitter edge. Add pixie dust glitter (Martha's is superb) to my list of new favourite things. Having bought every shade of MS's glitter in the states - where it's half the Canadian price, I'm sorry but not surprised to say - I'm on a glitter frenzy. Decking out a batch of pinecones with Stella the other day was just the beginning. Believe me when I tell you there's really nothing that can't be improved by a light dusting of pale blue glitter.

In other news, Santa has a blog. And a podcast. Who knew.

one man's garbage...

A quartet of gift tags made with recycled things. These are so simple, I'm almost embarassed to show them. I used scraps from the tweedy skirt I made in sewing class. The linen is the bottom 12" of a pair of Ikea curtains. Glad I saved that. The backs of some old baby announcements rescued from the Goodwill pile provided cardstock. Snip snip snip, a button et voila. Cute, no?

heaven in a jar

It's a bit of a cross-table conversation killer, but pine boughs sure smell good.

Is it just me or is the entire world feeling especially Christmas-y a little earlier than usual this year? It's still November and visions of sugar plums and sablés croquants are dancing in my head. Much of the weekend was given over to making a Christmas CD. I've fallen hard for Sufjan Stevens, and Liberace's rendition of Ave Maria. It's beautiful, I kid you not. This morning finds me in a lovely and rare state of quiet planning. With the shop opening post-poned I now have the luxury of contemplating the details of the holiday. Fixing the wood fireplace, hosting a neighbourly open house, a trip on this steam train and making some Christmas cards are really the only must-do items this year.

The main event, the annual Christmas tree purchase, is still a few weeks away. I have not-so fond childhood memories of trekking across windy tundra with leaking boots and chapped cheeks to cut down our own tree with a dull hacksaw. I have no qualms about tree shopping in the parking lot down the street, Starbucks in hand. I've done my time.

simple pleasure #1

Leaving the car in the driveway and biking to breakfast.

I don't know if posting vacation photos is a good idea. It feels a little nahnah-ha-booboo to me. But give me a chance; I'm going somewhere with this. See, we vacation in the same place at the same time each year. We take off after Halloween, leaving behind pumpkins and fall leaves and returning to full-throttled Christmas. Personally I feel it's too soon. Being away during what has got to be a frantic transition from scarecrows and bales of hay on the front lawn to boughs of holly and boxwood wreaths on the front door, I always feel slightly disconnected from the hub-bub. I prefer to ease into holidays. A little break between events is nice. Must my home always be decorated?

Rushing from one thing to the next without savouring anything in particular - when there is really so much about the season to love - leaves me feeling deflated when it's all over. It's like despite all the work, all the doing, I've somehow missed out on the best part. Over the last couple of years I've learned to pace things, so that we're not all completely Christmas'd out by the time the day arrives. Every year I get better at it, this editing of stuff to do, to buy, to see. Figuring out how to keep Christmas simple and meaningful is not an easy task, but it's increasingly important and worthwhile to me, and I'm guessing, to some of you as well. With that in mind, I'll post any good ideas or good blog posts I come across on the subject of keeping Christmas sweet & memorable & real.

I really liked the spirit of this swap, which I heard about here. It's a sharing of family traditions. If you'd like to participate, the swap is open for sign-ups until this weekend.