Christmas

R.A.D. Stainforth's lovely Christmassy reading...

There's a place for us,

an oasis between fruitcake

and watering the tree,

with hot-and-cold running kisses,

that stretch restless,

from the hearth

out to the snow,

where I push you back pink

and holiday-faced,

knowing this smiling garland

around our necks

links forever compatible.

tk/December 2012

Marc Chagall, 1914

Happy holidays and best wishes for a contented 2013, dear friends. Thank you so very much for your continued support and encouragement. You are the best. You really are.

Happy Fourth!

Parade, 1955, Hoboken, New Jersey by Robert Frank

Have a safe and happy Fourth of July, dear friends. 

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas from Willow Manor

and Best Wishes 

for a Happy and Healthy 2012

Seasonal Allergy

Holly and ivy

bundles of mistletoe

pine boughs

and poinsettias

all the flora

of the season

swallows

me in a jungle

flush with longing

a Christmas

concoction

gathered bouquet

of raw seasonal

itch I break out

in angelic rash

polka dots of love

tk/December 2011

Listen to R.A.D. Stainforth's lovely reading:

visit his excellent blog Black Dogs 

Join Magpie Tales creative writing group.

Image by Lee Friedlander

What's black and white and red all over?

This year I'm replacing the fancy holiday gift wrap with newsprint.  A few weeks ago, I found a whole bolt of 1/4 inch black elastic at Goodwill for $1.99, which turned out to be a fabulous replacement for ribbon.  Not only is this holiday recycling at its best, I absolutely love the simple monochrome look.

I bought my brother some gift-wrap for Christmas.  

I took it to the gift wrap department and told them to wrap it, 

but in a different print so he would know when to stop unwrapping.

― Steven Wright

mellow and a little bit worn

I don't like my things to be perfect; 

I prefer them to be mellow

and a little bit worn.

This happens to be true with gifts I give, as well.  I like objects with a little patina, a little history. Those who receive Christmas gifts from me, know they will most likely get something with a bit of must or rust.  Not only do I consider older objects works of art, embodied with wonderful history, giving them as gifts is a beautiful form of recycling. 

I picked up this great vintage potato ricer at Goodwill today.  I love the orangey-ness, the crustiness, the endless potatoes that have been riced, and the lovely industrial design.  It's for my daughter, unless... it decides to make itself at home on the kitchen shelf at Willow Manor.  

easter thoughts

Auntie Dee and Snowball circa 1949
Burlington, Indiana

I'm not sure what the theme of my homily today ought to be. 

Do I want to speak of the miracle 

of our Lord's divine transformation? 

Not really, no. 

I don't want to talk about his divinity.

I'd rather talk about his humanity. 

I mean, you know, how he lived his life, 

here on earth, his kindness, his tolerance. 

Listen, here's what I think. 

I think we can't go around measuring our goodness 

by what we don't do, by what we deny ourselves, 

what we resist, and who we exclude. 

I think we've got to measure goodness 

by what we embrace, what we create 

and who we include.

 Père Henri, Chocolat

                                            

                            
Happy Easter, my friends.

This is a Sepia Saturday post.

Merry Christmas

Warm and woolly holiday wishes from Willow Manor!  I want to thank you, dear friends, for being the best readership in the whole blogosphere. Your delightful, insightful and most generous support is invaluable. Even though I may not always make it around to each of your blogs as much as I would like, please know that you hold a special place in my heart. You are the best.  All of you.  Merry Christmas and warm feathers for your nests in the upcoming year.   ~~Tess/Willow (xx)

homecoming

After the rodeo

of flour and gift wrap
settles to a powder
of glitter-dust,

there is a lull, a lust,
before young broncos
gallop the horizon, home
for a brief chuck-wagon

of mad, rawhide roping
and doting. I ponder the past,
the litter, the barren task
of a cyclone’s patina,

the bucking, testing
and crossing of lines,
an empty pen, and the thrill
to ride again, for just a day.

Tess Kincaid

December, 2010




Would you like me to read it to you?

Xmas

She dares me
not to play follow-the-leader.

Why eat a cold buffet

with proper credentials,

but no champagne? I scrape

the plate; abandon the leavings.

Wear a Napoleon hat.

Beat to quarters. Jump.
Hold my nose, let go.

Free fall into generosity.

Resign to be overcharged,

risk jeopardizing my credit rating.

I prefer a bid in writing, sign
a treaty with the indomitable Lady. 

Hers is not a day, but a state of mind.

Tess Kincaid

December, 2010

Would you like me to read it to you?

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my latest holiday crush

Shortbread has always been a holiday tradition here at the manor. Maybe it's because both WT and I descend from the Scottish Lowlands, that we like it so much. Despite the fact that shortbread was prepared during much of the 12th century, the refinement of shortbread was actually accredited to Mary, Queen of Scots, in the 16th century. The name of one of the most famous and most traditional forms of shortbread, petticoat tails, were named by Queen Mary.

My traditional homemade shortbread is baked in a round pan and cut into wedges. This year, I tried a delicious new shortbread recipe posted by the charming Kary, over at My Farmhouse Kitchen, which is formed into logs and sliced. It was a huge hit at Thanksgiving, and I'm making a triple batch for Christmas, as well.  The cranberries and walnuts add the perfect blend of textures and flavors, and it's super easy to make.

I store them in my latest Goodwill find, a vintage etched glass lidded dish I found for $4.99.  A steal!

Cranberry Walnut Shortbread Cookies

1 cup unsalted butter, softened

3/4 cup confectioner's sugar

1 teaspoon pure vanilla

2 cups all purpose flour

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 cup chopped dried cranberries

1/2 cup chopped walnuts

1. Beat butter, confectioner's sugar and vanilla until smooth. Add flour and salt, stir till just combined. Stir in dried cranberries and walnuts. Divide dough into half.

2. On parchment or waxed paper, shape each portion into a log and wrap. Chill 1 hour or up to 1 day.

3. Preheat oven to 325 degrees. With a sharp knife slice dough into 1/4 inch slices.

4. Place on a parchment lined cookie sheet and bake about 16 minutes. Let cookies cool on sheets and transfer to wire racks. Store in an airtight cookie tin. Makes about 3 dozen.

Happy Thanksgiving

Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life.  
It turns what we have into enough, and more.  It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity.  
It can turn a meal into a feast, 
a house into a home, 
a stranger into a friend.  
Gratitude makes sense of our past, 
brings peace for today 
and creates a vision for tomorrow. 

Melody Beattie

merrythought

Since we've been discussing all things auspicious this week, one particular person I know loves to save a wishbone every time he carves the turkey. I often find them, days later, hanging to dry in odd places around the manor. When I was a girl, I remember seeing them tied up with ribbons to adorn gift packages in the 1950's. I posted on this subject a few years ago, but thought you might enjoy a little reprise on the background of the quirky tradition of the luck of the wishbone.


The wishbone is the third member of the great Euro-American lucky charm triumvirate, the other two being the horseshoe and the four leaf clover. Sometimes called the "merrythought" in the British Isles, the wishbone is a bone overlying the breastbone of fowl, but most especially, the chicken and the turkey. It is the custom to save this bone intact when carving the bird at dinner and to dry it over the stove or by the fire or, sometimes, to dry it for three days in the air, three being a fortuitous magical number until it is brittle.

Once the merrythought is dry, it is given to two people, who pull it apart until it cracks and breaks, each one making a wish while doing so. The person who gets the long half of the wishbone will have his or her wish come true. If the wishbone breaks evenly, both parties get their wishes. In some families it is said that the wish will only come true if it is not revealed to anyone.

Because of its association with conviviality and festive dinners, the wishbone has a long history of use in holiday cards. The wishbone is found on numerous Good Luck postcards of the era. In the 1930s, the wishbone was a common image on North American good luck coins and one could even buy little gold or silver wishbone charms; but by the 1990s, it, like that other dead animal part, the rabbit foot, had fallen out of favour with the makers of lucky amulets.

fourth

Watermelon juice
turns toes blood red,
black seeds spit
like June bugs, dead.

Chicken legs,
wax paper covered
deviled eggs
on back porch
newsprint table spread.

Croquet weapons,
badminton birds,
mosquito bite wounds,
scratched and bled.

Lidded jars of fireflies,
and sparklers scorch
our tired skies, until
a course of giant stars

stirs bursting pride,
to fight the heart,
force bias out
and melt the hate,

like ice cream
on a sultry plate.



willow, 2009

Best wishes

for a safe and happy 4th of July

from Willow Manor!

To join Magpie Tales click HERE.

merry christmas

The light of the Christmas star to you

The warmth of home and hearth to you

The cheer and good will of friends to you

The hope of a childlike heart to you

The joy of a thousand angels to you

The love of the Son and God's peace to you.

Much love, willow ~~xx

.

Irish blessing, my photo

a case of the woollies

I have a major woolly crush on Monty Woolley. The holidays just wouldn't be the same without him at the manor. He happens to be in two of my favorite holiday films, The Bishop's Wife and The Man Who Came to Dinner. Interestingly enough, Woolley plays two completely opposite characters in these two movies, and I love him as both.


I'm totally in love with him as the charming, tweedy, bearded Professor Wutheridge, so thoughtful and intelligent, in his cozy book laden apartment, full of bits of sculpture and a special hidden bottle of never ending sherry, that stimulates, warms, and inspires, but never inebriates. I want to help decorate his little table top tree with the angel on top, then sit by his fire, his lucky ancient Roman coin, warm in the palm of my hand, listening to him read excerpts from his history manuscripts.

I also adore him as the professor's total antithesis, the brilliant, sharp tongued, Sheridan Whiteside, who bruises everyone around him with witty, Groucho-like insults. I want to be his personal assistant, just like Bette Davis, and handle all his business affairs, straighten his tie, bring him his slippers and maybe even his
woolly socks. Sigh. I'm smitten.

santa's poetry go-kart

Hey, The Poetry Bus is back for a Christmas special! Actually, it's
[Santa's Poetry Go-Kart ]. So, if you'd like to hop aboard, get
yourself and your poem over to TFE's blog. My ticket for Santa is
posted as follows...


Oh, Tennenbaum



It smells
like plastic and dust,
that tacky impostor
who lives in a box
in the cellar.

It's hinges and sockets
replace the sappy
mess that sticks
to my fingers
and makes them itch

of wood and pine,
my hands contort
to unwind the nest
of wires that clings
to the trunk

and makes me
threaten to blow it up
with fireplace logs,
like a rocket bound
for the North Pole.

It's understood,
the cheesy faux stump
sports ready-made
lights that glow
so easy, and hey,

I can leave it up
til Ground Hog's Day,
if I want.



willow, 2009

three ships

Christmas just wouldn't be he same without listening to that smooth,

smokey voice of Nat King Cole. That opening line "chestnuts roasting

on an open fire" summons my holiday spirit. The familiarity of his

comforting voice, makes me feel all woolly inside, and says that all is

as it should be.

.

This season, the lyrics to one of the songs on the album, I Saw Three

Ships, got my pesky etymological juices flowing. I can't say why I've

not thought of it before, but what's it all about? Bethlehem is

certainly land locked, and there is no mention of ships in the biblical

story.

.

The tune of this carol is a traditional English folk song and the lyrics

were written by wandering minstrels as they travelled through the

country. In the original version of the carol, the three ships were the

ones taking the supposed skulls of the wise men to Cologne

Cathedral in Germany. Hmm. That's festive.

.

There are various versions of the song today, but they all involve

three ships. After doing a little poking around, here are some

possible meanings:

.

.

1) The arrival of ships is a symbol of good luck. They represent

prosperity and wealth, a wish bestowed for the holiday season,

since England was, at the time, a very sea oriented country.

.

2) The song is upbeat and happy. It expresses excitement about the

coming of the Christ child, much like the anticipation of a ship coming

in to port.

.

3) The three ships represent the three wise men who came sailing

in on their "ships of the desert", as camels are sometimes referred to,

to pay a visit to the holy family.

.

4) The three ships represent the holy family, Jesus, Mary and Joseph.

It's a disguised defense of Catholicism.

.

5) Ritson in his Scotch Songs quotes the following lines, stating they

were sung during the Christmas holidays about the middle of the

sixteenth century.

.

There comes a ship far sailing then,

Saint Michel was the stieres-man

Saint John sat in the horn:

Our Lord harped, our Lady sang,

And all the bells of heaven they rang,

On Christ’s sonday at morn.

.

This suggests that perhaps the ships were angelic ones, protecting

the Lady and her child, and delivering them on Christmas morning.

.

6) The holy trinity, Father, Son and Holy Spirit are represented as

the three ships carrying the Christ child to Bethlehem.

.

.

Here are the lyrics we are most familiar with today:

.

I saw three ships come sailing in,

On Christmas day, on Christmas day,

I saw three ships come sailing in,

On Christmas day in the morning.

.

And what was in those ships all three?

On Christmas day, on Christmas day,

And what was in those ships all three?

On Christmas day in the morning.

.

Our Saviour Christ and his lady

On Christmas day, on Christmas day,

Our Saviour Christ and his lady,

On Christmas day in the morning.

.

Pray whither sailed those ships all three?

On Christmas day, on Christmas day,

Pray whither sailed those ships all three?

On Christmas day in the morning.

.

Oh, they sailed into Bethlehem,

On Christmas day, on Christmas day,

Oh, they sailed into Bethlehem,

On Christmas day in the morning.

.

And all the bells on earth shall ring,

On Christmas day, on Christmas day,

And all the bells on earth shall ring,

On Christmas day in the morning.

.

And all the Angels in Heaven shall sing,

On Christmas day, on Christmas day,

And all the Angels in Heaven shall sing,

On Christmas day in the morning.

.

And all the souls on earth shall sing,

On Christmas day, on Christmas day,

And all the souls on earth shall sing,

On Christmas day in the morning.

.

Then let us all rejoice, amain,

On Christmas day, on Christmas day,

Then let us all rejoice, amain,

On Christmas day in the morning.

.

William Sandys, Christmas Carols Ancient and Modern

London: Richard Beckley, 1833

.

.

.

I'm much anticipating the arrival at the land locked manor of my

own three little ships this coming week. So, this carol as taken on an

entirely new meaning for me. Hope you enjoy the events in your port

of call this Christmas season, as well. ~x

.

photo borrowed from Flickr

deckin' the halls

The Christmas tree is officially up at the manor. I spent most of

Sunday afternoon fluffing and tweaking. No pressies are wrapped

yet, though. Wrapping and stacking under the tree is one of my

tasks for this week. My first choice of tree would be a big fat live

one with all the wonderful natural scent and essence, but a few years

back we purchased a pre-lit artificial tree. I'll have to admit, it's quite

nice not having to untangle that ubiquitous massive knot of lights.

.

Besides, I go a little nutzoids and load it down with so much stuff,

you can't see the tree, anyway. I've been collecting vintage

ornaments for about 30 years, now. WT has brought back quite a

few unique ones from Eastern Europe. Last year, my uncle me some

wonderful old bulbs that adorned my dear grandmother's tree in

tiny Burlington, Indiana. These treasures feel right at home on my

manor tree.

.

I also have a stack of antique holiday postcards I traditionally tuck

among the branches. This year, it struck me how lovely some were

on the reverse, with the vintage stamps and quirky, festive hand

written messages. So, I placed several with the written side showing.

Since I'm all about correspondence, this made me incredibly happy.

I'm such a sappy romantic. My very favorite ornaments of all are a

few the kids made when they were small. Tears well up each time I

hang the tiny, sweet, tweedy mitten that belonged to my oldest son.

what I did on my thanksgiving vacation

I've been making rather merry. My week was full of festivities

with the kids home. At the top of the list was the traditional Scott's

Antique Show. My daughter found several fabulous treasures.

I came home empty handed,

which is not a bad thing, since

the manor has the tendency to

take on a major "hodge-podge-

lodge" look, anyway. The

talented daughter helped me

an entire day, taking everything,

including books and pottery

off shelves, sills and tables in

the living room.

It proved to be a major chain

reaction, but with fabulous results.

We emptied the vintage medical

cabinet of my matte white pottery

and mixed it with the pewter and

vintage books.
.

We decided our efforts looked quite

nice, even a bit "John Derian", if you

will. I'm sure he would approve.

Of course, there was tons

of baking and eating going

on the whole week. Lots of

special holiday fare, including

homemade crescent rolls and

pecan pies. The best part is

the leftovers, which we are still

enjoying today. I am completely

carbed out, though, and ready

to eat a week's worth of veggies.

It was a wonderful week, for

which I am truly grateful.

.

Now that the manor is quiet,

I'll be slowly making my way

down your street in the

bloggyhood. I've missed you!

.