Several weeks ago, this invite appeared on my desk at work. It had nothing to do with a book program, or a feature story for the paper, and it was from someone I barely knew. I met Irene last summer when she entered a drawing for a book giveaway celebrating women’s right to vote. She told me about how she and her husband are from the area but had moved to Florida many years ago. They moved back. Then I did an article about Irene, and she also entered our holiday recipe contest. With the date open, I put the tea party on my calendar. What a lovely afternoon at Irene’s sipping tea with her friends and tasting the delicious treats she kept producing from the kitchen. We were to bring our own tea cups and Irene had us tell where we got them. The first snow of the season brought a dusting, making the day even more festive. Thank you, Irene, for inviting me to your authentic tea party.
I went home and made chili, wrapped gifts and watched It’s A Wonderful Life. It is indeed.
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So today I feel overwhelmed by gratitude. That’s a good place to be. It's been such a fast-paced week, I'm only now getting this posted. After last Saturday in Indy at the newspaper conference, Sunday it was off to Centerville where I visited with shoppers, colleagues and friends in the new Artisans and Java building at the Kids at Heart Publishing mini-bookstore. Monday night was a speaking engagement at Fishers United Methodist Church’s United Methodist Women’s Christmas gathering. I am grateful to Linda Shimer who served this year as co-president of the UMW and is also active in the church’s book club. I appreciate her support and encouragement so much. She also wows me! In addition to her leadership role, she went and picked up and returned home a friend who couldn't get there on her own. In fact, she left so quickly following the program that I was unable to get a photo with her. Not only that but I found out that Linda and her husband MOVED last week! Even though my connection to the church’s book club had nothing to do with my husband’s 26 years working in Fishers schools, ironically, Linda told me that several were coming who knew him. It was such a delight to see these wonderful former co-workers of Brian’s – and look up to find their smiling faces near the front of the sanctuary as I spoke. I took their photos and texted them to Brian. He was pretty pumped about their attendance and when I got home, he took a trip down Fishers Memory Lane, reflecting on all the wonderful people he worked with during those years. Last summer, a surprise invite came from town library director Carrie Watson to give the opening program to children in the summer reading program. I spoke on the topic, “What’s Your Clue?” about looking for our gifts and talents – even as young kids, and then later in the afternoon, I gave a second talk to the adults in a program on our bucket lists. Carrie told me she would invite me back during the annual town Christmas walk and library open house. She even gave me the date but I didn’t put it on my calendar. I thought I should wait and see if the invite came through and guess what? It did! I got there at 5 and enjoyed delicious hot soup samples prepared by members of the library board, and hot cocoa, served by Carrie’s adorable daughter, visited with many of the more than 100 people (probably closer to 150) who came through the library to warm up and chat with their neighbors. What a bunch of truly nice people with friendly smiles and were interested enough to stop and chat. Carrie’s mentor, Iraida Davis, even visited the library! At age 90, it’s been a while since she directed the place but I found it touching when the two librarians posed together. Carrie says Iraida was her idol. I think she still is.
Carrie is a woman of many talents. Not only is she library director in Farmland, she is the Union Modoc library director and teaches Title 1 reading. She is a mom, a quilter, and – I kid you not – a drag racer who shows her skills all over the country. I tried to think of how to describe Farmland, an artsy farm community with something special. The best I can do is to call out two old-time TV shows. I think Farmland is something of a blend of the two: Northern Exposure meets Mayberry. Carrie agreed to let me write about her in a future issue of her magazine for women. Yippee! On the ride home, the moon was huge and bright, showcasing the lovely, peaceful Hoosier farms I passed as I made my way south and west through Randolph County, then continued straight west through Henry County, and home to Madison County on U.S. 36 most of the way. By 9:30 when I landed home, I was so tired I could hardly get from my favorite chair to draw my steaming-hot bath. But I did, then headed for bed. It's supposed to snow this weekend; just a Christmas Chamber-of-Commerce type dusting of a couple inches. I hope so. Brian has always enjoyed Halloween. While he doesn’t do anything with the Christmas tree other than tell me if it is leaning to one side (a particular pet peeve of his), and yes, tell me it’s pretty once it’s all decked out, he is the one who carves our pumpkins. At this stage in the game of life, I’d be content to plug in a fake one and carry on, but not him. He always makes a production of selecting an annual pumpkin or two and carving them. I came across this photo of him with a Parke County pumpkin 40 years ago. This was taken in his parents’ Rockville, Indiana basement the first weekend I met them. We had been to the Parke County Covered Bridge Festival where he snagged a pumpkin (I probably got one too but don’t remember that). It was my 19th birthday weekend and Brian’s mother surprised me with a gift, a new wallet. I’m pretty sure she made pumpkin pie. Boy, she could bake pies! In the fall there were always pumpkin pies on her counter top. I have fond memories of trick-or-treating as a kid, throwing "spook-house" basement parties for the neighbor kids in my family's rustic basement, canvassing the neighboring farms for Trick-or-Treat for UNICEF and then going to the church basement for a party. And who can forget the full-sized chocolate bars out of Philomath? I'm seeing a trend here ... Halloween and basements. Then came the years of our boys and their Halloween parties and trick-or-treating. This is my favorite Halloween photo of Sam and Ben. It's actually one of my all-time favorite pictures of them period. Last year, Brian had a little issue with his pumpkin. He carved it and set it on the porch. I wasn't paying much attention and didn't connect the dots when he asked if we had any Duct Tape. I told him we did and asked why.
"Oh, I probably won't need it," he hedged. I still didn't think anything of it. Until the next day. His carved pumpkin had Duct Tape wrapped around its head. "I cut his nose off," Brian confessed. I roared with laughter. "It won't even show when the lights are out," he insisted. To my surprise, he was right. The pumpkin looked just fine -- in the dark. Here's this year's duo, carved yesterday while I was at work. Pretty cute. What are your special Oct. 31 memories? This week I interviewed a wonderful American. She was born and raised in Australia. Joy Baase of New Castle, Indiana is in her 90s, and our chat was about a story unrelated to this blog post. But during the course of the interview, we talked about many things, including how she is an English (Aussie) World War II bride, coming to her late husband's hometown to make a life together after the war. We talked about her full life, which is still filled with faith, love, humor -- and patriotism. Joy became an American citizen in 1953. And in her beautiful Queen's English accent, she recited The American's Creed by heart. I am embarrassed to tell you that I did not know we had this beautiful statement of who we are. Did you? It took an immigrant to tell me, and I will forevermore be grateful. Its original elements came from Thomas Jefferson, but it wasn't until 1918 that the creed, formally a U.S. House of Representatives resolution, was passed. The statement was penned by William Tyler Page in a contest displaying patriotism. On this Memorial Day weekend, when we flippantly wish someone a "Happy Memorial Day," and perhaps enjoy a day away from the 9 to 5, I'm taking time to think about these words, about how no matter what an individual may think about any particular elected official, to consider that our great nation is so much bigger than any combination of temporary leaders. It is founded on the blood of Americans who died for the freedoms we routinely take for granted. It is to them we owe our everyday, walking-around, going-doing-and- saying-what-we-please lives. I will apologize to no one for loving this nation, its liberty, and its greatness, proven over and over in the words of the U.S. Constitution, which endures. May it endure forever. Here is The American's Creed. Would you repeat it with me? The American's Creed I believe in the United States of America, as a government of the people, by the people, for the people; whose just powers are derived from the consent of the governed; a democracy in a republic; a sovereign Nation of many sovereign States; a perfect union, one and inseparable; established upon these principles of freedom, equality, justice, and humanity for which American patriots sacrificed their lives and fortunes. I therefore believe it is my duty to my country to love it, to support its Constitution, to obey its laws, to respect its flag, and to defend it against all enemies. Answer this without thinking. What is your most memorable Christmas gift?
When I see that question, the first thing that comes to mind is a stick of deodorant. The year was 1981 and we were invited to a staff Christmas party for my husband’s school co-workers. We had moved to that west-central Indiana community the summer before, and while the job came with a raise, there were financial setbacks on the other side of the balance sheet. I no longer brought in a paycheck because with the move, the plan was for me to go to college full time, year-round, until I had a journalism degree. That meant college fees and gas to get there. Not only that, but we left behind in Richmond a mobile home on which we were making payments, plus lot rent, as we had been unable to sell it. To make it even harder, the trailer park wouldn’t let us put out a for sale sign. We were making it. But things were tight. So tight, in fact, that the idea of buying the gag gift for the party seemed too much to ask. So I scrounged around and wrapped up some odd thing that we had around the house. Surely, we would get in exchange some equally odd thing from someone else’s house. Instead, our gag gift was a new stick of brand-name deodorant. The person who brought it had obviously paid for it, and it was nice and useful. This meant one less item on our personal shopping list. I remember this because now it seems comical, the look on our faces, as though we had won a lottery. Had anyone been watching our reactions, that person would surely be confused by our inappropriate glee. We told this story to a friend who is a couple decades older. She has a similar story that involves the Christmas her husband bought her a potato masher. The circumstances were different but the sentiment the same. They were young, and broke, and the present was a bright spot. I suppose there are a number of morals to these stories: That living within your means is superior to buying or receiving gifts that break your budget. That delayed gratification is better than trying to grab it before its time — and then feel sick about the bills later. That at best, material gifts bring only temporary happiness. Or how sometimes shiny new presents only mean a trip to the store the day after Christmas to stand in line and return them. But also, stories such as the gag gift and the potato masher bring to mind special memories of a place and a time, of making do but not minding because you are with the ones you love. I’ve got 58 Christmases under my belt, but it would take me a while to remember many of the gifts, lovely though they have been, that have been under our trees. Yet that deodorant stick always comes to mind this time of year. And I smile with the memory. This column appeared Sunday, Dec. 18, 2016 in the New Castle, Indiana Courier-Times where Donna Cronk is Neighbors Editor as well as editor of the quarterly her magazine for women. My first paid job off the family farm came during high school senior year. A friend's mother worked in management at what was then Elder-Beerman (now Carson’s) in Richmond, and she asked if I’d like a job as a dressing room monitor.
I worked several evenings a week after school from 5 to 9 and one or two weekend days. Quickly I learned the special blend of a paycheck with a store discount. As fall gave way to the Christmas season, business boomed. It wasn’t long before they moved me around from my quiet spot of matching the number of clothes that went in with how many came out of the dressing room, and hanging up clothing from crates of incoming inventory, to filling in all over the store. They trained me on the old-time cash registers. They were huge with a million keys, many of which you never used, and made a loud noise with each number punched in. Honestly, the machines terrified me. There could be a line of people, and if I pushed the wrong number, it required the time-consuming and embarrassing act of calling for a supervisor for a bail out while the checkout line grew still longer. That fall and winter I worked in juniors and misses clothing, the foundations (underwear) department, at the hosiery and accessories counter, cards and stationery, behind the candy counter, in jewelry, men’s clothing, and at the upstairs restaurant’s cash register. Generally my traveling services were needed to sub for other clerks during lunch breaks or if they were short-handed. I never knew where I’d be stationed, but the dressing room monitoring work didn’t last long once I knew how (well, sort of knew how) to use the register. Once I was called to the service desk to wrap Christmas gifts. We used thick, red paper with green bows. I was trained to properly fold over the cut edges into a neat seam, how to properly tape the paper and finish with ribbon. As with the other departments during the busy Christmas season, this was a hectic task. What I remember most about it is not a good memory. I was told by a supervisor that I did a terrible job wrapping gifts. “We can’t send those out,” she barked, to my humiliation. So it is with considerable irony that anyone would ever consider me good at gift wrapping. And while I don’t know that I am, I think after being package-shamed in my first real job, I wanted to restore my dignity in that area by at least doing a presentable job going forward. While gift bags are handy and particularly useful when something doesn’t fit well into a gift box, I still prefer wrapped boxes. The mystery of what’s inside seems to last a bit longer when unwrapping a carefully taped box and undoing a ribbon instead of a quick pull of the present out of a bag. One of my signature moves is to tie off a package with ribbon rather than a premade bow. For the holidays, I also like to use matching themed paper. If I’m wrapping for a shower or wedding, I add a topper for special interest. Maybe do something such as tie a pretty dish towel around the package or on top instead of a bow or wrap the present in a road map with a toy car to finish. A few years ago, Courier-Times Editor Randy Rendfeld had a reader prize to give away at the newspaper office. He said he wished we could wrap it somehow. I said no problem, I could wrap it right then. I grabbed a color comics section from the paper, encased the gift, and then fashioned a bow from strips of another comics page and stuck it on top. I handed it back to Randy and he stared at it as though it was made of precious gems. “No man could do that,” he said, punctuating each word, something akin to awe. He had no idea, but his comment offered a kind of redemption. It got even better when my sister-in-law Linda surprised me with an invite to do a program at the library where she was boss. The topic? Gift wrapping! I spent time figuring out what in the world I would say to the public about wrapping presents, then I simply started wrapping empty boxes using every trick I could think of (yes, pulling out the map and comics pages for sure). For an activity to go with the program, I brought supplies for attendees to make and take their own gift tags. I can’t say that I drew a crowd or even anything close, but it was fun, and an excuse to spend a day with family and even pick up my sweet friend (and Linda’s awesome mother) Lucille and bring her along. We had a lovely meal out afterward. I call the day a success. As with my former editor, I’m sure that unless Linda reads this, she had no idea why I consider it such. It was because, again, I felt redeemed from my Elder-Beerman incompetency. The other thing, which wasn’t on my radar at the time, is that I got a charge out of being a “presenter.” I enjoyed the task of assembling a program, then the mystery involved in wondering who will attend, if they will enjoy it, and seeing how it all unfolds. It’s the exact same feeling I have now when I put together and present a program relating to some aspect of my book themes in libraries or at clubs or banquets. I love it. If I hadn’t had the gift-wrapping run through, I’m not sure I would have felt I could even put together a presentation. Wrapping it up -- this all goes to show how we learn and grow from every experience we have along life’s way. So often, one thing leads to the next in ways we can’t imagine at the time. Whatever we do today, no matter how humble or routine -- or unusual, it’s likely preparing us for what’s to come. Even though the tree and house have been decorated since Thanksgiving weekend, the vendor table decked out for Christmas at recent book gigs, and Brian has the outside lights up … I wasn’t really feeling it. By it, I mean the holiday spirit.
Until tonight. The turning point came on an icky night in east-central Indiana. I didn’t get out of the newspaper office until 6, pitch dark this time of year, and as I headed out the back door, the last person in the building, the rain and wind hit me. Not pleasant. But then I spotted it. The strings of lights draping from the top of the Henry County Courthouse to the ground, the pretty blue lit snowflake decorations sparking in the tower windows, the clock shining like the moon. I pulled over in front of the Senior Center to take a photo. I was cold, the evening black and windy, but inside my car, pointed toward home, I felt cozy. I felt the joy of Christmas start to envelop me for the first time this season. Ya-hoo! Tomorrow is my day off and I have home work to do. Reggie goes to the vet for her annual shots and once-over. I’m looking for some new jammies. I’m going to take a stab at the Saltine Cracker Candy my friend and Chew This! columnist Blaise Doubman posted today on Facebook. (The recipe is in his book, Dessert First.) If it turns out, and it will because Blaise is providing the recipe, I’m sending a stash with younger son, Ben, who enjoys taking his mom’s treats to share with his coworkers. Ben’s coming tomorrow after work and we’re having our favorite local pizza. So tomorrow will be a good day all around. Got an invite from older son Sam to head down to Fishers to share Thursday Night Football with he and DIL Allison. On Sunday, I’m hosting friends from church, the Midlife Moms, at our annual Christmas party here. It is always a wonderful time. I am beyond blessed to have these women in my life. And blessed by so much more, besides. It always happens like this. There is a moment, and I don’t know when it’s coming, when I feel touched by Christmas in a special way, kicking off the season for me personally. Jesus came! For me! And you! Tonight came the moment that it all kicked in, yet again. Do you like the wrapping paper? I ordered it on clearance after last Christmas from Current. The ornaments are vintage family orbs. And of course the books are mine. Will have them at the Henry Community Health Bazaar all day Friday as their last official "outing" of 2016. Stop by, say hi, and if you want, we can put a wrap on a book. I hope there are more hurrahs before the calendar flips, but when it comes to my hobby / job as a bookseller, the last one of 2016 is this Friday, Dec. 2 with the Holiday Marketplace Bazaar at the newly branded Henry Community Health, formerly known as Henry County Hospital.
It’s 7 a.m. to 4 p.m. in the conference rooms at 1000 N. 16th St., New Castle. I know! That’s a long day. But the nice thing is that it’s planned with various shifts of employees in mind so they get some shopping time. I always have a stash of some sort of work to do on the side and even so, generally find that I’m too busy visiting with folks to get it done. If you are dropping by because you remember how wonderful hospital bazaars were in the past, (they’ve brought the tradition back this year) then make it a two-fer by heading over to Foursquare Gospel Church on the far southeast end of South 14th St. for the bazaar also going on. My friend, new author Sandy Moore will be at Foursquare with her new children’s book. There are a few other bazaars on tap this weekend. It seems that this weekend, too, is nearly the last hurrah for those. Every season of the year has its pleasures and bazaars are part of this season’s, for sure. I get nostalgic about endings. Hinsey-Brown hosted a beautiful luncheon on my behalf to kick of the new book's arrival. I’ve had the pleasure of five book clubs featuring one of my books this year and inviting me for the discussion with included meals or desserts and a lot of great conversation. These have taken me to Connersville, Springport, Pendleton, Fishers and Centerville. I spoke at two mother-daughter banquets in May, at several service and women’s clubs, including a writers’ organization in Muncie, did some author fairs in Tipton and Upland, a pumpkin festival, and addressed an entire student body, parents and teachers at a back-to-school night on recognizing and encouraging a child’s giftedness. I did bazaars, a few library programs and portrayed a Union County pioneer woman at Founders Day where I read Riley poetry and spoke about Little Orphant Annie’s origins in my fair county. I challenged a quilt guild to seek out their bucket lists and through it all, I was the one entertained by all the opportunities I was blessed to receive. Most of it has been documented on Home Row. It’s ALL been a blessing and a joy. I am so grateful that God allowed me to have this book season in my life, and thankful to all who have been and continue to be so very kind and supportive of my efforts. Most of all, I cherish the people connections made. I suppose the entrepreneur in me would be remiss if I didn’t mention that if you want to give the books as Christmas gifts, well, please do. In addition to availability at the bazaar, they are for sale at The Courier-Times, 201 S. 14th St., New Castle, Indiana, at Sugar Creek Books in Pendleton, and from me via mail or in person. I am delighted to sign them for your gift giving (or for yourself). Email me for how to connect or get them mailed and I’ll fill you in on the particulars. I would also be happy to wrap them for you. Email me at: newsgirl.1958@gmail.com. If you would rather, the books are available in both print and Kindle versions on Amazon.com. My books are: Sweetland of Liberty Bed & Breakfast and the follow-up, That Sweet Place: At Home in the Heartland. If our paths or emails don’t cross again this year, maybe they will in the next. And along those lines, keep me in mind for your programming needs. We always have a good time, and I can personalize a program to suit your needs. I might even bring pie. On Black Friday, while some of my dear ones are out there getting amazing bargains, making their way through traffic and crowds, I’m going nowhere. I’m perfectly content at home digging in the Christmas closet and festooning the house for the holidays. It's a kind of chaos, in its own way, only confined to our four walls.
Our nine-foot tree takes the longest to dress -- not my favorite to deck out. What I like best is putting up wreaths. Lots of them. Show me a door or even a doorknob on a cabinet, and I’ll show you a wreath to adorn it. I became interested in wreaths when grapevine became the material of choice in the late 1970s. Grapevine wreaths were ideal because not only did I love country decorating (now we have more sophisticated terms for it: farmhouse, cottage, or rural rustic), I also required cheap adornments. With an early-marriage budget and both of us working on college degrees, money was tight. Ah, but my parents had a farm with woods and fence rows. I could gather as many free grapevines as my heart desired. When we moved to a Fountain County farmhouse, I could find the vines along any number of fences on country roads. I made up a bunch of plain wreaths and on a whim, waltzed into the Veedersburg florist unannounced and asked if she wanted to buy some. She did! My entire stock, in fact. A dozen in all. Bolstered by entrepreneurial success, I got up the nerve to go big and ask The Apple House owner in Terre Haute if he was interested. He told me if I could make 100, he would buy them. He only bought in bulk. I thought it over and decided that while I could probably find materials for 10 or 15, (I'd alread moved a dozen!) 100 might be pushing it hard. So I didn’t take the job. But I’ve never stopped loving the humble, and not-so-humble, wreath – grapevine or otherwise. This holiday season, my first-ever square wreath, made of realistic-looking magnolia leaves, graces our front door. I added a red cloth bow. I wanted something different from the round evergreen wreaths with red bows I put on the outdoor windows every year. When the holidays are over, I may remove the bow and use the wreath as a substitute for art in our bedroom. Or leave it up all winter on the door. It was affordable, unlike some high-end versions I have seen, if you can even find them. Too cool to store away. Over the kitchen sink I have another new wreath this year. It was made by Kelly Finch of Liberty and contains small oranges with greenery and real rose-hips add a 3-D effect. Alongside the wreath are two red lanterns with the battery-powered “candles” inside. I found the lanterns in Kroger with the store’s holiday merchandise. On the kitchen table, a white-berry wreath I’ve had for years contains one of three glass-encased wire-brush Christmas trees and the other two flank it. I found those from Donna Finch at the Union County Extension Homemakers Bazaar. There’s a red berry wreath on the closet door, a deer wreath from Nancy Huntington, made by her friend, on the china closet door (I added the two feathers for even more of a rustic look), and there’s another Kelly wreath in service as a candle ring in the family room. If it holds still, I’ll put a ring on it. What is your favorite holiday decorating task? For the past couple of years, I’ve sworn off Pinterest. I’m back! At least for the holidays. Like many women, I enjoy browsing the incredibly popular and unique website and its boards. I can lose myself in the crafts, cooking, clothing, scenery, rural landscapes, home improvements, books, and decorating boards on that website. In fact, it’s because I enjoy them so much, I had to leave them behind for a while as I took the time to finish my second book, and then work on the programs for various presentations. It felt safer that way. It wasn’t only the leisurely looks at clever ideas or a solution to a decorating problem or a great new recipe. It was the fact that I can become easily distracted and if I happened on something that intrigued or inspired, I might scrap revising a chapter or recording a week’s worth of mileage in favor of booking it to the store and picking up spray paint or pinecone picks for an inspired project. Sunday was my catch-up day. The guys were at the Colts game and I had the house to myself where I moved through a week-long to-do list that didn’t get to-done, including messaging someone something I should have done a week ago, and I even cooked a homemade supper for when Brian got home. At the Union County Extension Bazaar, I bought a square wreath made of looks-like-real magnolia leaves. I had seen some like this in upscale magazines. I was delighted to find one for myself at a price I could manage. But how to doctor it up a bit? Pinterest! I have another project I’m hoping to complete this weekend. That is to fill my outdoor urns with winter greens and pinecones. Yes, I can hardly wait to get started with the annual Christmas decorating projects. I’ve got a lot of plans along those lines and will no doubt be sharing some scenes in the blogs ahead. Tomorrow, company is dropping by on the way to their family Thanksgiving and my friend is picking up several copies of my latest book for gifts. I’m so grateful for that show of support. I’m thankful for so many things. Faith. Church. Family. Friends. Work. Opportunities. And I’m thankful for YOU, my readers. Several of you mentioned over the past few days that you read this blog. I thank you. Now go get those Thanksgiving preps in order! There’s much to be done. Enjoy. If you would like information about getting signed copies of either of my books for your own gift-giving needs this holiday season, email me at newsgirl.1958@gmail.com. |
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