Are you ready for this year's Christmas Books Quiz? It's short, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. Answers will be posted sometime before Christmas.
1. Mrs McGillicuddy panted along the platform in the wake of the porter carrying her suitcase. Mrs McGillicuddy was short and stout,the porter was tall and free-striding. In addition, Mrs McGillicuddy was burdened with a large quantity of parcels; the result of a day's Christmas shopping. The race was, therefore, an uneven one, and the porter turned the corner on the end of the platform whilst Mrs McGillicuddy was still coming up the straight....[A bit later], she sat up and looked out the window at what she could see of the flying countryside. It was quite dark now, a dreary misty December day--Christmas was only five days ahead. London had been dark and dreary; the country was no less so, though occasionally rendered cheerful with its constant clusters of lights as the train flashed through towns and stations.
2."Do they sing 'Happy Birthday'?" Star wanted to know.
"Oh, no!" replied Betsy. "That isn't a Christmas carol."
"I don't see why they don't sing 'Happy Birthday,'" said Star. "It's the little Lord Jesus's birthday, and it's my birthday."
"Well, they don't sing it," said Betsy. "I know, because we're learning Christmas carols at school."
"I know some too," said Star....Betsy put her Christmas cards away in a box and said, "Father likes to sing, and he makes a great big noise when he sings. Let's go talk to Mother."
3.What was inside looked very shiny--shiny as gold, and very complicated. There were several small packages and a picture with printing, and the words at the top read: "Christmas Chimes." Here again were the figures of three angels, and a wheel, and what looked like different sized gongs, three of them. There was a shaftlike thing with a point. And a star to fit on the top. Last of all there were three candles. "It's something to put together," said Fuss--the one who was cleverest with his hands. He gathered up everything, with the picture, and took them to the table. There he set to work. On a small round tray he fitted the angels. From that point on he read directions and put things together until everything including the candles were in their right places. "It says here to light the candles and the heat they send up will turn the wheel and ring the chimes...." ....everyone waited for something to happen. Nothing did Had it been put together wrong? Had they been cheated? "The old thing won't work," said Feathers. It was at that moment that the wheel began to turn. Very slowly at first, then faster and faster. From the wheel hung little metal clappers. These struck against the gongs. They made a slow, low tinkle at first, that grew more distinct, until suddenly the sound of sweet chimes filled the room.
4. "How would you like to go to a Christmas Eve party tonight?" he asked. "A big party with food and singing and hundreds of people?"
As he had expected, the Calcets immediately forgot their house on wheels.
"Where?" asked Paul. "In a big palace?"
"Not exactly," replied Armand. "It's to be held under the Tournelle Bridge." Paul's face fell. "But it will be a grand party, I can promise you," went on Armand. "The Notre Dame church people give it every Christmas Eve for all the hoboes of Paris and their ladies. They'll sing carols and eat sauerkraut and wieners."
5. For the first Christmas in our lives, we children did not get to see the big city stores and the wonderful window displays. And Papa's toolbox was packed away in the closet with our skates. On New Year's Eve we were allowed to stay up. Mama made "sweet soup" for us, and she and Papa said Skoal! and wished us each a Godt Nytaar as they drank their coffee.
Friday, December 13, 2013
Thursday, December 12, 2013
It's Advent Not Christmas, Day Twelve
Good day and welcome to Day 12. (Bob and Doug McKenzie, "Twelve Days of Christmas.")
I have been crocheting and sewing my little fingers to the bone, and it's been fun, but I'm almost finished with all the makings. However, my tired fingers and my tired brain are not coming up with much to say about Advent tonight.
Can you wait until Friday the 13th?
I have been crocheting and sewing my little fingers to the bone, and it's been fun, but I'm almost finished with all the makings. However, my tired fingers and my tired brain are not coming up with much to say about Advent tonight.
Can you wait until Friday the 13th?
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
It's Advent Not Christmas (Day 11): If you're not simply having a wonderful Christmas time, at least you're not hauling frozen ropes...right?
If the moving finger writes, and having writ moves on, to quote Omar Khayyam and Rudolph's Shiny New Year...sometimes it's a GOOD thing that we can't bring back the past. Because some of it, we wouldn't want to.
Like sitting in your great-aunt's living room, opening Christmas presents, wearing a big horizontal-striped top (with a boatneck, natch), accessorized with big hair and braces. Some of that 1982ishness, we don't need to bring back.
Or a holiday season that, for whatever reason, was really bad. Really lonely, really scary, or really hopeless. Maybe by the next year things were better, but that particular December--no, that's not the kind people write songs about.
Or maybe they do. Starting with Elvis and Blue Christmas...moving through whatever teary song is playing on the country station or even the Christian station (can you say Christmas Shoes?), through the depressing lyrics of John Lennon ("So this is Christmas, and what have you done?, another year over...") and Band-Aid ("Do they know it's Christmas?"). I have to tell you, a whole lot of years ago I was in a very small music group, and we wrote our own Christmas song, about lonely people needing love. For a long time afterwards I was kind of embarrassed even to remember that song, thinking it was pretty maudlin and wasn't very good...but considering some of the stuff I've heard on all-Christmas radio, it probably could have held its own.
But anyway, if you want to cheer up and think about all the ways that your December holidays--past or present--could be worse...you really need to listen to Sting's version of Robert Louis Stevenson's "Christmas at Sea." A sample of the lyrics:
And well I knew the talk they had, the talk that was of me,
Of the shadow on the household and the son that went to sea;
And O the wicked fool I seemed, in every kind of way,
To be here and hauling frozen ropes on blessed Christmas Day.
Like sitting in your great-aunt's living room, opening Christmas presents, wearing a big horizontal-striped top (with a boatneck, natch), accessorized with big hair and braces. Some of that 1982ishness, we don't need to bring back.
Or a holiday season that, for whatever reason, was really bad. Really lonely, really scary, or really hopeless. Maybe by the next year things were better, but that particular December--no, that's not the kind people write songs about.
Or maybe they do. Starting with Elvis and Blue Christmas...moving through whatever teary song is playing on the country station or even the Christian station (can you say Christmas Shoes?), through the depressing lyrics of John Lennon ("So this is Christmas, and what have you done?, another year over...") and Band-Aid ("Do they know it's Christmas?"). I have to tell you, a whole lot of years ago I was in a very small music group, and we wrote our own Christmas song, about lonely people needing love. For a long time afterwards I was kind of embarrassed even to remember that song, thinking it was pretty maudlin and wasn't very good...but considering some of the stuff I've heard on all-Christmas radio, it probably could have held its own.
But anyway, if you want to cheer up and think about all the ways that your December holidays--past or present--could be worse...you really need to listen to Sting's version of Robert Louis Stevenson's "Christmas at Sea." A sample of the lyrics:
And well I knew the talk they had, the talk that was of me,
Of the shadow on the household and the son that went to sea;
And O the wicked fool I seemed, in every kind of way,
To be here and hauling frozen ropes on blessed Christmas Day.
Frugal Finds and Fixes: Crocheting, Bread Machine, and More
There has been a lot of crafting going on at the Treehouse. Dollygirl made a pipecleaner-and-bead version of the heroine of Frozen (she's now working on the sister), did some beading with beads that have been sitting around for probably a decade, and crocheted a few more dolly things that I've lost track of. Dollygirl also won a t-shirt in a photo contest.
I keep coming across neat little patterns, some of which take only bits and pieces. I crocheted some bookmarks with red, white and green worsted-weight yarn, and decorated them with Mini Wishing Star motifs. I am trying out this double-sole slipper pattern on the Red Heart site (I did have to buy a ball of SuperSaver for that). I like the little flower decorations that are supposed to trim the slippers; if you don't want slippers you could just make the flowers and sew them on something else. I also like Planet June's Mini Wreath Ornament, which would be a terrific small project for young or new crocheters, and which could use up scraps of green yarn.
Dollygirl sent me the link to this crocheted doll hat pattern, so I made one with leftover multicoloured SuperSaver.
On the food end, I tried Budget101's Garlic Bread Mix for our (yard-saled) bread machine. It flattened out at the top, which may mean there was a bit too much liquid, but the rest of the loaf was fine. I cut it in square chunks, rather than trying for thin slices, and we had it with a spaghetti dinner. It's a good make-ahead, less-messy alternative to toasting things with garlic butter. Budget101 also gives directions for converting bread machine recipes to no-bread-machine recipes.
I wanted to make some Christmas cookies, but most of our usual recipes call for a lot of butter, and we're very short on that right now. So I made a bowlful of brownie batter (using oil) and baked it as round cookies, with crushed candy canes sprinkled on top, and powdered-sugar glaze swirled on afterwards. The candy could have been added after baking, sprinkled on top of the glaze, but it's good baked on as well.
I keep coming across neat little patterns, some of which take only bits and pieces. I crocheted some bookmarks with red, white and green worsted-weight yarn, and decorated them with Mini Wishing Star motifs. I am trying out this double-sole slipper pattern on the Red Heart site (I did have to buy a ball of SuperSaver for that). I like the little flower decorations that are supposed to trim the slippers; if you don't want slippers you could just make the flowers and sew them on something else. I also like Planet June's Mini Wreath Ornament, which would be a terrific small project for young or new crocheters, and which could use up scraps of green yarn.
Dollygirl sent me the link to this crocheted doll hat pattern, so I made one with leftover multicoloured SuperSaver.
On the food end, I tried Budget101's Garlic Bread Mix for our (yard-saled) bread machine. It flattened out at the top, which may mean there was a bit too much liquid, but the rest of the loaf was fine. I cut it in square chunks, rather than trying for thin slices, and we had it with a spaghetti dinner. It's a good make-ahead, less-messy alternative to toasting things with garlic butter. Budget101 also gives directions for converting bread machine recipes to no-bread-machine recipes.
I wanted to make some Christmas cookies, but most of our usual recipes call for a lot of butter, and we're very short on that right now. So I made a bowlful of brownie batter (using oil) and baked it as round cookies, with crushed candy canes sprinkled on top, and powdered-sugar glaze swirled on afterwards. The candy could have been added after baking, sprinkled on top of the glaze, but it's good baked on as well.
Laugh for the day: "That was productive."
Local newspaper headline today: "Councillors meet for four hours to discuss lengthy meetings."
The article begins, "[City] Councillors spent four hours Monday talking about how they could shorten their meetings.
"To top it off, Monday's meeting ran an hour longer than they anticipated."
I am not making that up.
The article begins, "[City] Councillors spent four hours Monday talking about how they could shorten their meetings.
"To top it off, Monday's meeting ran an hour longer than they anticipated."
I am not making that up.
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
It's Advent Not Christmas (but it's getting there!), Day 10
Charles Coffin was a French educator who wrote Latin poetry and hymns; most of his hymns were published in a collection in 1736. This hymn wasn't translated into English for another hundred years, and it's not one we often sing now, even in a church where four-part hymn singing is common. I think Douglas Bond's "Mr. Pipes" would approve of it, though; it goes beyond the "baby in a manger" imagery and manages to work in redemption, Christ's return, and even a doxology in the last verse.
Unfortunately, Charles Coffin ran into trouble with church authority. Hymntime.com says that "Due to his persistence in appealing against the papal Constitution Unigenitus of 1713, the parish rector of Saint-Etienne-du-Mont refused to administer last rites to him, or give him a Christian burial." I am imagining him finally meeting Jesus "on His road with hymns of holy joy," one of the "scattered saints" united in Heaven.
The advent of our God
Our prayers must now employ,
And we must meet Him on His road
With hymns of holy joy.
The everlasting Son
Incarnate deigns to be;
Himself a servant’s form puts on
To set His people free.
Daughter of Zion, rise
To meet thy lowly king,
Nor let thy faithless heart despise
The peace He comes to bring.
As judge, on clouds of light,
He soon will come again,
And all His scattered saints unite
With Him in Heaven to reign.
Before the dawning day
Let sin’s dark deeds be gone;
The old man all be put away,
The new man all put on.
All glory to the Son
Who comes to set us free,
With Father, Spirit, ever One,
Through all eternity.
From Hymntime.com.
Unfortunately, Charles Coffin ran into trouble with church authority. Hymntime.com says that "Due to his persistence in appealing against the papal Constitution Unigenitus of 1713, the parish rector of Saint-Etienne-du-Mont refused to administer last rites to him, or give him a Christian burial." I am imagining him finally meeting Jesus "on His road with hymns of holy joy," one of the "scattered saints" united in Heaven.
The advent of our God
Our prayers must now employ,
And we must meet Him on His road
With hymns of holy joy.
The everlasting Son
Incarnate deigns to be;
Himself a servant’s form puts on
To set His people free.
Daughter of Zion, rise
To meet thy lowly king,
Nor let thy faithless heart despise
The peace He comes to bring.
As judge, on clouds of light,
He soon will come again,
And all His scattered saints unite
With Him in Heaven to reign.
Before the dawning day
Let sin’s dark deeds be gone;
The old man all be put away,
The new man all put on.
All glory to the Son
Who comes to set us free,
With Father, Spirit, ever One,
Through all eternity.
From Hymntime.com.
Carnival of Homeschooling #415: Living with Books Edition
So when you're done reading the carnival and the posts...go grab a kid (and a bowl of popcorn) and a book. Or two or three.
On Homeschool Reading:
MomSCHOOL presents a Homeschool Guide to Teaching Reading. "As a homeschool mom, I think the scariest thing to teach my kindergarten children was always reading. Yet, I love to see the light come on when they finally are able to read!"
At Here in the Bonny Glen, Melissa Wiley presents Homeschooling Books: A Wish List for Libraries.
On Holiday Reading:
Celeste presents Picture Books We Love :: My Top Ten Christmas Books for Littles, posted at Joyous Lessons.
Sage Parnassus presents Christmas Books!
At A Peaceful Day, Jeanne also presents 20 Christmas Books to Read Aloud, with an Australian twist.
Harvest Moon by Hand presents Get a Christmas Tree, with a Hanukkah book that snuck in there too.
Home stuff, School stuff, Thoughtful stuff, Silly Stuff:
Petticoat Government presents Snowy Day Sewing. "Our first official lesson on using the sewing machine and how my children surprised me with their sewn creations that same day. It was a good use of a snowbound afternoon."
Homeschoolvspublicschool presents The Perfect Christmas. "Many years ago I was blessed by knowing a very awesome family. Thirteen children in one family and a wonderful mother and father celebrated Christmas time in a very unusual way."
Why Homeschool presents What is the purpose of a report card? Janine shares her recent experience of a kindergarten report card. "Does the teacher really not notice that this kid can read and that he can sound out almost every thing he reads? I'm guessing that they gave all the students - Basic on the report card except maybe the obviously struggling students."
Homeschool and Etc presents Homeschooling an Autistic Child: Why? "My child is six years old and he is a public school push-out."
Time4Learning Community Blog presents the Top 25 Reasons for Homeschoolers to use Pinterest.
Afterthoughts presents Charlotte Mason and Notebooking, a review of Laurie Bestvater's book The Living Page.
A Brave Writer's Life in Brief presents Your kids want to learn and grow. "Stay alert to your child’s struggles so that you may discover a 'block' that you hadn’t noticed in your frustration. Keep going. Don’t give up. Trust the process and your child’s natural goodwill toward you."
And finally...The Common Room, recent winner of "Best Variety" in the Homeschool Blog Awards, presents an original version of The Twelve Days of Christmas. The six napping grandbabies are sweet, but I'm not so sure about the blood...well, go see anyway.
And finally...The Common Room, recent winner of "Best Variety" in the Homeschool Blog Awards, presents an original version of The Twelve Days of Christmas. The six napping grandbabies are sweet, but I'm not so sure about the blood...well, go see anyway.
That's it for this week's Carnival! Thanks to all who submitted posts and/or gave permission to use them. Next week the host blog will be HomeGrownMommy.com.
Monday, December 09, 2013
It's Advent Not Christmas (Day Nine): Eliminating P-Waste
Mr. Fixit was at the Large Chain Store today and noticed a familiar face behind the counter: a young man who used to work at the Large Office Store down the road. He got this job during a reorganization. He lost his old job in a similar reorganization, and it took him months to find a new one. This is someone with a degree in software engineering. Yeah, I know, you've heard it all before.
But this is the kicker: at the store where he worked previously, no one gets to stay more than two years. Even managers. They get shuffled out, made part time, made redundant.
Two years. Your job will probably expire before the toasters or printers you sell.
Then Mr. Fixit ran into someone else he hadn't seen in awhile. This friend is a machinist. For the last while, he's worked a series of jobs either cleaning parts or painting parts. It's not what he was trained to do, but he says he's working with other similarly overqualified tradespeople, and it's all they can get. He says the teenager behind the coffee counter is probably getting paid close to what he makes, plus the coffee cashier doesn't have to inhale paint fumes. Oh, and his wife lost all her work benefits in a series of company mergers.
Nothing comes with a lifetime guarantee. Not a degree, not a job. Companies disappear. Whole industries disappear. One day you think you're set, the next you're redundant.
We live in a society that, more and more, treats people as disposable. Instead of E-Waste, maybe we could call it P-Waste.
This is why Jesus came into the world.
No, not to get us jobs at Stuff-mart or to organize unions or to guarantee employment until 65. But to end the belief that any single person...born or preborn, over-or-under qualified, mentally healthy or not so much, born into an overcrowded country or not...you fill in the blanks...doesn't matter. Is expendable.
So the message of Advent speaks: no more P-Waste. That is the Good News.
But this is the kicker: at the store where he worked previously, no one gets to stay more than two years. Even managers. They get shuffled out, made part time, made redundant.
Two years. Your job will probably expire before the toasters or printers you sell.
Then Mr. Fixit ran into someone else he hadn't seen in awhile. This friend is a machinist. For the last while, he's worked a series of jobs either cleaning parts or painting parts. It's not what he was trained to do, but he says he's working with other similarly overqualified tradespeople, and it's all they can get. He says the teenager behind the coffee counter is probably getting paid close to what he makes, plus the coffee cashier doesn't have to inhale paint fumes. Oh, and his wife lost all her work benefits in a series of company mergers.
Nothing comes with a lifetime guarantee. Not a degree, not a job. Companies disappear. Whole industries disappear. One day you think you're set, the next you're redundant.
We live in a society that, more and more, treats people as disposable. Instead of E-Waste, maybe we could call it P-Waste.
This is why Jesus came into the world.
No, not to get us jobs at Stuff-mart or to organize unions or to guarantee employment until 65. But to end the belief that any single person...born or preborn, over-or-under qualified, mentally healthy or not so much, born into an overcrowded country or not...you fill in the blanks...doesn't matter. Is expendable.
So the message of Advent speaks: no more P-Waste. That is the Good News.
Looking for Carnival of Homeschooling Submissions (Reposted, now with theme!)
We will be hosting this week's Carnival of Homeschooling!
So send in your submissions by next Monday night! (That is, tonight.)
Please?
UPDATE: I have seen lots of posts recently on books: Christmas books, homeschool books, book reviews; so I thought that would make a good carnival theme. If you have a book post, feel free to submit it! But anything homeschool-related is fine too.
So send in your submissions by next Monday night! (That is, tonight.)
Please?
UPDATE: I have seen lots of posts recently on books: Christmas books, homeschool books, book reviews; so I thought that would make a good carnival theme. If you have a book post, feel free to submit it! But anything homeschool-related is fine too.
Sunday, December 08, 2013
Dollygirl's Grade Seven: Term Two begins
Dollygirl''s Term Two begins this week, but in a low-key kind of way. I understand perfectly why some homeschoolers just give school a miss before Christmas--it seems the last thing you want to be doing right now is thinking of ways to teach geology. Crafting and so on are much more fun. But if Dollygirl were in public or private school, she'd be having classes just the same, so that's what we do.
This week's school plans:
Monday:
Book of Acts, half a chapter.
The last chapter of The Sword and the Circle: "The Coming of Percival." Half today, half Wednesday.
Algebra
The Lay of the Land: half a chapter
French readaloud (continuing until Christmas)
Geology unit
Music history (using the cassette "Christmas Goes Baroque II")
Special handicraft: Planet June's crocheted Christmas Wreath ornament
The Return of the King
Tuesday:
Ourselves, by Charlotte Mason
Picture Talk: Maud Lewis, a Canadian folk painter
History of English Literature, half a chapter
Grammar of Poetry, review and half a lesson
French readaloud
English history:: the kings after Alfred
Easy Grammar Plus
The Return of the King
Wednesday:
Book of Acts, half a chapter
Finish "The Coming of Percival"
Algebra
French
Begin Plutarch's Life of Demosthenes
Music history
Science
Whatever Happened to Penny Candy?
Thursday:
Ourselves, by Charlotte Mason
History of English Literature, half a chapter
Easy Grammar Plus
Geography: begin Heidi's Alp
Sigurd the Volsung
French
English history
Grammar of Poetry, review and half a lesson
Friday:
Book of Acts, half a chapter
Algebra
Sigurd the Volsung
French
The Lay of the Land: half a chapter
Science
Geography: Heidi's Alp
The Return of the King
It's Advent Not Christmas, Day Eight: "Some?"
"Christmas isn't just about giving. It's about getting and about God's Son Emmanuel." ~~ Young Squirreling in Dewey's Treehouse, December 2005
Every family has its own "home words" and shortcuts. One of ours is "some?" It sprouted when the Squirrelings were little and would ask for "some?" Meaning a polite "I don't know exactly what that is you have there, Daddy, but it sure looks good, so can I have some?" Or, on occasion, "Gimme, gimme some or I'll have a meltdown!" It also reminds Mama Squirrel of the story her own mother used to repeat on every family occasion involving pumpkin pie, of the time that Very Little Mama Squirrel's daddy was slicing her a small piece of pie, and when he turned away for a moment to find her a plate, she took the rest of it and left him the small slice.
Over the years, the use of that single word has morphed from an asking word into an offering. Mr. Fixit, particularly, still proffers the plate of toast or whatever with the word "Some?"
It occurs to me that the late philosopher and teacher Dallas Willard might have found use for our word "Some," in his thinking on the Divine Conspiracy. Think of the scenes you've seen on T.V., where someone says, "I'll have some of whatever they're having." It's been used in every sense from the most vulgar to the most literal, and I hesitate even to describe it that way, but it's an image that's worked itself into our culture. Is it possible to think of the Divine Conspiracy as an offering of "Some?" God offers us "Some?" Then we offer Some of What We're Having to those outside the circle? I don't mean so much physical aid, although that's in there; I mean God's gift of Himself. One word only. An asking, or an offering.
It also occurs to me that when we're unsure of "our" gift of the Gospel being accepted or rejected by others, it may be because we think of it as "ours." C.S Lewis describes a small child who asks his father for sixpence to buy him a gift; the father of course is pleased with the gift, and, Lewis says, that's as it should be; but in terms of finances, it all came from the father to start with, right? We make the gift and the giving too complicated.
Maybe all we ever need to offer, or to ask for, is "Some?"
Every family has its own "home words" and shortcuts. One of ours is "some?" It sprouted when the Squirrelings were little and would ask for "some?" Meaning a polite "I don't know exactly what that is you have there, Daddy, but it sure looks good, so can I have some?" Or, on occasion, "Gimme, gimme some or I'll have a meltdown!" It also reminds Mama Squirrel of the story her own mother used to repeat on every family occasion involving pumpkin pie, of the time that Very Little Mama Squirrel's daddy was slicing her a small piece of pie, and when he turned away for a moment to find her a plate, she took the rest of it and left him the small slice.
Over the years, the use of that single word has morphed from an asking word into an offering. Mr. Fixit, particularly, still proffers the plate of toast or whatever with the word "Some?"
It occurs to me that the late philosopher and teacher Dallas Willard might have found use for our word "Some," in his thinking on the Divine Conspiracy. Think of the scenes you've seen on T.V., where someone says, "I'll have some of whatever they're having." It's been used in every sense from the most vulgar to the most literal, and I hesitate even to describe it that way, but it's an image that's worked itself into our culture. Is it possible to think of the Divine Conspiracy as an offering of "Some?" God offers us "Some?" Then we offer Some of What We're Having to those outside the circle? I don't mean so much physical aid, although that's in there; I mean God's gift of Himself. One word only. An asking, or an offering.
It also occurs to me that when we're unsure of "our" gift of the Gospel being accepted or rejected by others, it may be because we think of it as "ours." C.S Lewis describes a small child who asks his father for sixpence to buy him a gift; the father of course is pleased with the gift, and, Lewis says, that's as it should be; but in terms of finances, it all came from the father to start with, right? We make the gift and the giving too complicated.
Maybe all we ever need to offer, or to ask for, is "Some?"
Saturday, December 07, 2013
It's Advent Not Christmas (Day Seven)
We are taking a break from posting today to do some in-real-life Advent-keeping. Back tomorrow.
Friday, December 06, 2013
It's Advent Not Christmas (Day Six): Of Time, like an ever-flowing stream
Uncle Benjamin said,“How time does fly!” “I think it crawls,” said Valancy passionately. ~~ L.M. Montgomery, The Blue Castle
I once wrote something for a writing class called "In the long afternoon." It was from the perspective of a very young child...okay, me...trying to get through a long, boring, hot Sunday afternoon when all the adults wanted to do was nap.
When you're four, even one afternoon can feel like forever. Christmas takes forever coming, the month or so of "Christmas stuff" lasts forever, and by the end of it, you almost can't remember a time without Christmas music, lights and trees.
When you're forty...um...whatever, there's much more of a sense that this Advent time is very short. It's hard to stop and not do for awhile, when you know that the mere fact of its being December 6th means that in three short weeks, it's going to be Boxing Day already. The flyers with candy canes will already be yesterday's news. In my childhood perspective, almost time for Happy the Baby New Year, and the December 31st sleepover at grandma's. In 2013, I'm getting decorations out of boxes and realizing that they're going to be repacked within, well, days.
Like planning a a wedding. Or waiting for a child. The baby's here, but time runs away while you're watching her hold her head up, and start smiling at you, and roll over, and crawl, and you're into size 12-months before you know it.
Valancy may have thought time crawled, but for me it's disappeared too fast, and it's stolen much that I thought would never change. In my mind, that long afternoon is not that long ago, and there's another one alongside it: I'm in my cold and tiny apartment, the winter before I met Mr. Fixit. I was temporarily out of work, trying to fill in the days by listening to the CBC and crocheting Every Single Christmas Present. That December was like one very long afternoon, and it's still clear in my mind after almost twenty-five years. The time that stretches back is the long arm, and the time just ahead is what's rushing by like a storm that grabs things up, makes hay of those few short days when we can let it be Advent.
There's a reason they call new-baby time "babymoon." Yes, you know they will grow up, but there is a time that belongs to now. Just because it will be gone so soon doesn't lessen its meaning.
And there's a reason for Advent. Yes, it's quickly gone, and seems more so every year. Like the Baby New Year that grows old, the empty January calendar is turned to the last page before you know it. I'm with Uncle Benjamin on that one.
But it has its time too.
Carpe diem.
I once wrote something for a writing class called "In the long afternoon." It was from the perspective of a very young child...okay, me...trying to get through a long, boring, hot Sunday afternoon when all the adults wanted to do was nap.
When you're four, even one afternoon can feel like forever. Christmas takes forever coming, the month or so of "Christmas stuff" lasts forever, and by the end of it, you almost can't remember a time without Christmas music, lights and trees.
When you're forty...um...whatever, there's much more of a sense that this Advent time is very short. It's hard to stop and not do for awhile, when you know that the mere fact of its being December 6th means that in three short weeks, it's going to be Boxing Day already. The flyers with candy canes will already be yesterday's news. In my childhood perspective, almost time for Happy the Baby New Year, and the December 31st sleepover at grandma's. In 2013, I'm getting decorations out of boxes and realizing that they're going to be repacked within, well, days.
Like planning a a wedding. Or waiting for a child. The baby's here, but time runs away while you're watching her hold her head up, and start smiling at you, and roll over, and crawl, and you're into size 12-months before you know it.
Valancy may have thought time crawled, but for me it's disappeared too fast, and it's stolen much that I thought would never change. In my mind, that long afternoon is not that long ago, and there's another one alongside it: I'm in my cold and tiny apartment, the winter before I met Mr. Fixit. I was temporarily out of work, trying to fill in the days by listening to the CBC and crocheting Every Single Christmas Present. That December was like one very long afternoon, and it's still clear in my mind after almost twenty-five years. The time that stretches back is the long arm, and the time just ahead is what's rushing by like a storm that grabs things up, makes hay of those few short days when we can let it be Advent.
There's a reason they call new-baby time "babymoon." Yes, you know they will grow up, but there is a time that belongs to now. Just because it will be gone so soon doesn't lessen its meaning.
And there's a reason for Advent. Yes, it's quickly gone, and seems more so every year. Like the Baby New Year that grows old, the empty January calendar is turned to the last page before you know it. I'm with Uncle Benjamin on that one.
But it has its time too.
Carpe diem.
Christmas cookies, candy canes, and penny jars
In the oven: a double batch of Doreen Perry's Cookies, made with Rice Krispies, one cup of dark chocolate chips, and one cup of red, white and green holiday chips.
On the ground: no snow.
On the kitchen table: a jar of pennies, nickels and dimes, and another jar that's filling up gradually. Secret Saints (or Secret Santas) are trying to not get caught doing good...but you're allowed to mark your good deeds with a donation to the jar. (One-cent coins were supposed to be finished in Canada, but...like six-foot men and quarter-inch drill bits, we still seem to have an awful lot of them.)
On the radio: something about everybody hanging candy canes by windows I don't do that--do you? (Dollygirl would say she just wants to eat them. Candy canes are one of those things that we hold off on until closer to Christmas.)
On the ground: no snow.
On the kitchen table: a jar of pennies, nickels and dimes, and another jar that's filling up gradually. Secret Saints (or Secret Santas) are trying to not get caught doing good...but you're allowed to mark your good deeds with a donation to the jar. (One-cent coins were supposed to be finished in Canada, but...like six-foot men and quarter-inch drill bits, we still seem to have an awful lot of them.)
On the radio: something about everybody hanging candy canes by windows I don't do that--do you? (Dollygirl would say she just wants to eat them. Candy canes are one of those things that we hold off on until closer to Christmas.)
Butterscotch Dumplings, dressed for the holidays
This was one of the first recipes we ever posted on the Treehouse. This week we added a special holiday ingredient that we think is an improvement on the original recipe.
Butterscotch Dumplings (from Food that Really Schmecks, by Edna Staebler)
(Edna calls this recipe 20-Minute Dessert.)
Sauce: 1 cup brown sugar, 2 cups boiling water, 2 tbsp. butter or margarine. Stir this all together in a large pot till the sugar has dissolved; simmer while you mix the dumplings. You can also use leftover homemade pancake syrup, thinned with water if necessary. Holiday addition: add a cupful of frozen cranberries while you're bringing it to a boil.
Dumplings: 1/3 cup sugar, ½ tsp. salt, 1 tbsp. butter, 1 ½ cups flour, 1 tbsp. baking powder, about ½ cup milk. Cream the sugar, salt and butter; add flour mixed with baking powder alternately with enough milk to make a stiff batter. Drop by tablespoonfuls into the boiling sauce; cover and let boil gently (do NOT take the lid off) for about 15 minutes. Serve with vanilla yogurt, milk, or anything else you like.
Butterscotch Dumplings (from Food that Really Schmecks, by Edna Staebler)
(Edna calls this recipe 20-Minute Dessert.)
Sauce: 1 cup brown sugar, 2 cups boiling water, 2 tbsp. butter or margarine. Stir this all together in a large pot till the sugar has dissolved; simmer while you mix the dumplings. You can also use leftover homemade pancake syrup, thinned with water if necessary. Holiday addition: add a cupful of frozen cranberries while you're bringing it to a boil.
Dumplings: 1/3 cup sugar, ½ tsp. salt, 1 tbsp. butter, 1 ½ cups flour, 1 tbsp. baking powder, about ½ cup milk. Cream the sugar, salt and butter; add flour mixed with baking powder alternately with enough milk to make a stiff batter. Drop by tablespoonfuls into the boiling sauce; cover and let boil gently (do NOT take the lid off) for about 15 minutes. Serve with vanilla yogurt, milk, or anything else you like.
Thursday, December 05, 2013
It's Advent Not Christmas...with Ffff's. (Day Five)
That's what we used to make our first family Advent wreath in 1993. Twenty years ago, think of that.
And it was my first Advent wreath too, really. I grew up with Nativity scenes, but not with wreaths and candles. I think something in a book by Ingrid Trobisch started it for me...a description of Ingrid and Walter's first married Christmas, in Cameroon, and how they improvised an Advent wreath. Around that time, I also bought a copy of Family Celebrations: Meeting Christ in Your Holidays and Special Occasions. And an Advent alphabet calendar. That's what we used, that Christmas that the Apprentice was a year and a half. See the little tree in the photo? That was all the tree we had, or wanted. A was for Angel. B was for Baby. Every night we put an ornament or picture on the tree, lit the candles, sang Away in a Manger, and blew them out again. Apprentice's baby word for candles, from that time on, was Fffff. Every night she looked forward to the Fffff.
She really did. Never tell me that little ones can't understand Advent.
Wednesday, December 04, 2013
It's Advent Not Christmas: C.S. Lewis on Gift-love (Day Four)
"But Divine Gift-love — Love Himself working in a man — is wholly disinterested and desires what is simply best for the beloved.
Again, natural Gift-love is always directed
to objects which the lover finds in some way intrinsically lovable — objects to which Affection or Eros or a shared point of view attracts him,
or, failing that,
to the grateful and the deserving,
or perhaps
to those whose helplessness is of a winning and appealing kind.
But Divine Gift-love in the man enables him to love what is not naturally lovable;
lepers,
criminals,
enemies,
morons,
the sulky,
the superior,
and the sneering.
Finally, by a high paradox, God enables men to have a Gift-love towards Himself. There is of course a sense in which no one can give to God anything which is not already His; and if it is already His, what have you given?
But since it is only too obvious that we can withhold ourselves, our wills and hearts, from God,
we can in that sense, also give them.
What is His by right and would not exist for a moment if it ceased to be His (as the song is the singer's), He has nevertheless made ours in such a way that we can freely offer it back to Him."
~~C.S. Lewis, "Charity," The Four Loves. Line-breaks mine.
Again, natural Gift-love is always directed
to objects which the lover finds in some way intrinsically lovable — objects to which Affection or Eros or a shared point of view attracts him,
or, failing that,
to the grateful and the deserving,
or perhaps
to those whose helplessness is of a winning and appealing kind.
But Divine Gift-love in the man enables him to love what is not naturally lovable;
lepers,
criminals,
enemies,
morons,
the sulky,
the superior,
and the sneering.
Finally, by a high paradox, God enables men to have a Gift-love towards Himself. There is of course a sense in which no one can give to God anything which is not already His; and if it is already His, what have you given?
But since it is only too obvious that we can withhold ourselves, our wills and hearts, from God,
we can in that sense, also give them.
What is His by right and would not exist for a moment if it ceased to be His (as the song is the singer's), He has nevertheless made ours in such a way that we can freely offer it back to Him."
~~C.S. Lewis, "Charity," The Four Loves. Line-breaks mine.
Tuesday, December 03, 2013
Dollygirl's Grade Seven: Geography Project
A 3-D narration of the book In Search of England, by H.V. Morton.
Photographs by Mr. Fixit. Copyright 2013, Dewey's Treehouse.
It's Advent Not Christmas (Day Three)
Today's Advent story starts with two coffee cans of cookies, made by my boyfriend's mother and left at his apartment. Which isn't his apartment at all. The condo, its fake Picasso, and most of its IKEA furnishings belong to a junior executive type named Danny. My boyfriend just rents the extra bedroom from him.
It's the last year of university, and...to add a bit of irony I don't notice at the time, we seem to have housing problems again. My own current place has no place to cook, and it's so far from the university that I've started spending more time at the boyfriend's apartment. I can walk there after classes, hang out, and then maybe make something for us for dinner, in Danny's pots and served on Danny's plates, before the long subway ride home. Danny is hardly ever there, but I know he's not crazy about my hanging around. I don't think he's too crazy about the boyfriend either; I suspect he's behind on the rent.
So one afternoon after class, I walk to the apartment. It's a nice building, but it's right near Jane and Finch in Toronto, and Jane-Finch is always in the news, usually in stories involving police and fights. It does make you walk a little faster. Anyway, when I get there, there are two coffee cans sitting on the kitchen counter. Just plain cans, not decorated or anything, but full of seven-layer bars and those sliced cookies with little coloured marshmallows in them. The boyfriend's parents live several hours away, but they made a visit, probably not a strictly friendly one (I think he owes them money too), and his mother left these cookies. He doesn't want them. I'm homesick, and hungry, so I eat them.
Then instead of heating up something in Danny's kitchen, we decide to walk over to the restaurant at the Jane-Finch mall and partake of the daily special. Over our festive fish and chips, I look around at the dozen or so other tables. There are harried parents with fussing children. Lonely old people. Scruffy-looking couples.
I look at us. We fit right in. Just another scruffy-looking couple, sitting on duct-taped seats, eating fries, whacking the ketchup bottle, scrounging in the bottoms of our pockets for enough change to pay the bill, that's us. I'm not. Happy. With. That. In fact, I break off with Mr. Christmas Cookies a few weeks later.
But this is the point: what bothers me is that I don't see grace that night. I see need, lack, tiredness, vapidity, jammed ketchup bottles. I thought we were so unique, but really we are just part of the crowd.
And outside the restaurant is a whole mall full of people just the same. And the whole Jane-Finch neighbourhood. The whole city, if you want. And I think...is this what He came for? Are we who He came for?
Is that Advent?
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