Reminders -- Savor Every Moment!

You may be wondering why you have not seen any new posts? I've been taking a little time to prioritize. As you can see, my last post was on February 1st -- with all the best intention of regular blogging throughout Valentines Day. On February 2nd, my father went into the ER and that began a spiraling journey of daily treks to the hospital and supporting my mother through surgeries and his eventual passing away on February 20th.

While going through all the funeral arrangements with family, I realized just how unprepared I was for that monumental task, let alone my Mom's readiness. My parents had a pre-paid funeral plan which most definitely helped -- but there were still so many decisions to be made.

While all this has been difficult -- especially the aftermath of the grieving that catches you unaware at the strangest moments, it has also been a great reminder! Savor every moment of every day -- even the difficult ones. I am so glad I was able to take almost a month and a half to fully be there -- first with my Dad, and the family, and then in supporting my Mom. I still call her every day -- I don't want to miss out on a single precious moment of chatting about the little blessings. My Dad learned that lesson well and I know that is what he would tell me now if he could.

I read something today that really struck me -- in fact, I have made a copy of it to post on the wall by my desk:  "Beware of spending too much time on matters of too little importance!" Time just flits by all too quickly on butterfly wings!

So, I have been making time to create jewelry and have tea parties with my 6 year old granddaughter. My fingers have gotten dirty while digging in the dirt planting vegetables for my kitchen garden. I've been visiting with my elderly neighbors, and walking with a friend. I've been clipping a few grape hyacinths for a tiny crystal vase to encourage my delight in the outdoors even when I cannot get there. I have been really listening when someone talks to me -- trying to hear their heart, not just their words.

I will be sharing more of the ways I am working on savoring moments in the days to come -- including sharing a project step-by-step to inspire your own creativity and savoring moments. Hope you will follow along on this journey with me!

Valentine, Won't You Be Mine?

Valentines Day is just around the corner. Since Saint Valentine became known as the patron saint of lovers and the day became a special opportunity for exchanging love messages, lovers have shared symbols of their love or words of endearment on February 14th. I thought it would be fun to share some of my own collection of vintage Valentines, along with some trivia about the holiday over the course of the next two weeks.

Love tokens have been exchanged far longer throughout history than merely one day of the year! Certainly as long as there has been courtship, there have been special tokens exchanged to woo and share depth of feeling. One early symbol of love in the eighteenth century was the gift of gloves. They became such a popular love token during that time, that a heavy tax was imposed on gloves. A little poem might have been offered with the gift of a pair of gloves to a lady of that day: "If that from glove you take the letter 'G', Then glove is LOVE, and that I give to thee."

Flowers have been a love token over time -- but they also came to symbolize sentiment spoken secretly with the type of flower in an arrangement. It was necessary to know what each flower spoke in order to convey the right message. Tiny volumes of poetry complete with dictionaries sharing each floral meaning were written and kept at hand to enable one to share those secret messages. One such volume is a tiny treasure in my collection. It measures just 4-1/2" x 3" -- perfect for carrying in a gent's pocket or a lady's reticule. This special little gilt edged volume was published in 1846. It's title:  "The Bouquet: Containing the Poetry and Language of Flowers" by A Lady.

In it's introduction quotes a poem by L.A. Twamley, part of which I will share here to give a sample:

"Are not flowers the earliest gift of love?

Do they not, mutely eloquent, oft speak

For absent or for trembling hearts, and bear

Kisses and sighs on their perfumed lips,

And worlds of thoughts and fancies in their tears,

Touched by the rainbow's dyes?"

The author of the first written Valentine is disputed. Charles, Duc d'Orleans has often been credited with being one of its first creators. He sent his wife love letters penned in rhyme. John Lydgate, an early English poet also wrote a lovely Valentine praising Catherine, the wife of King Henry V of England. Whoever started the tradition matters little. By the early nineteenth century, the Valentine card was clearly the most popular love token eagerly bestowed and awaited. I have several early Valentines handed down in my family to me. This little treasure is one of the folded cards that could be sent flat and then opened to reveal a pop-up of fuller dimension. It's sweet sentiment says,

"Cupid has no time to waste

So he flies in urgent haste

What he means to whisper low

Is, 'Sweetheart I love you so.'"

When the greeting is opened, you discover a more fanciful set of die cut figures, along with a fancy tissue paper flower.

This little one, from the late 1800s is more simple in its folded state -- actually very little ornamentation on the card stock itself. But, when it is opened, it really has some fun secrets to share! The little pop-up heart says,

"Never! Oh Never!

Another can be;

So gentle, so kind

And so smiling as thee!"

Although another relative has the original, one of my favorite early Valentines was done in "cobweb" style. It dates to the 1820s, and has a secret message that can only be revealed when a tiny thread loop is pulled to enable the cut work picture on top to open and show what is beneath. I spent some time this year making several of these to include in one of my shops on Etsy. Here are two of them.

Come back and visit again this week. I will share more of my vintage Valentines and some of their unique and fun sentiments with you. I have lots -- so we will take a look at more from the 19th and 20th century along with other historical tidbits on love. Oh, and if you like the Valentines, I have a little contest going on my other blog you won't want to miss out on! You can win one!              

The Brownie's Christmas

I love old Christmas poems! I included a number of different ones throughout the years in my dramatic monologues performed this time of the year. With so many struggling with low or no funds this year, I thought I would share some with you over the next month as we approach Christmas. So many of the poems of the 1800s or early 1900s were meant to encourage during similar difficult times! Here's a lovely poem -- a story poem, author unknown -- titled, "The Brownie's Christmas,"  written during a time when imagination soared and children often talked of elves, brownies and fairies. And isn't that where fancy took off from true stories of St. Nicholas and the tales of Santa Claus began?

"The Brownie who lives in the forest,

Oh, the Christmas bells they ring!

He has done for the farmer's children

Full many a kindly thing:

When their cows were lost in the gloaming

He has driven them safely home;

He has led their bees to the flowers,

To fill up their golden comb;

At her spinning the little sister

had napped til the setting sun --

She awoke, and the kindly Brownie

Had gotten it neatly done;

Oh, the Christmas bells they are ringing!

The mother she was away,

And the Brownie'd played with the baby

And tended it all the day;

The Brownie who lives in the forest,

Oh, the Christmas bells they ring!

He has done for the farmer's children

Full many a kindly thing.

'Tis true that his face they never

For all their watching could see;

Yet who else did the kindly service,

I pray, if it were not he!

But the poor little friendly Brownie,

His life was a weary thing;

For never had he been in holy church

And heard the children sing;

And never had he had a Christmas;

Nor had bent in prayer his knee;

He had lived for a thousand years,

And all weary-worn was he.

Or that was the story the children

Had heard at their mother's side;

And together they talked it over,

One merry Christmas-tide.

The pitiful little sister

With her braids of paly gold,

And the little elder brother,

And the darling five-year-old,

All stood in the western window --

'Twas toward the close of day --

And they talked about the Brownie

While resting from their play.

'The Brownie, he has no Christmas;

While so many gifts had we,

To the floor last night they bended

The boughs of the Christmas-tree.'

Then the little elder brother,

He sapke up in his turn,

With both of his blue eyes beaming,

While his cheeks began to burn:

'Let us do up for the Brownie

A Christmas bundle now,

And leave it in the forest pathway

Where the great oak branches bow.

'We'll mark it, "For the Brownie,"

And "A Merry Christmas Day!"

And sure will he be to find it,

For he goeth home that way!'

Then the tender little sister

With her braids of paly gold,

And the little elder brother,

And the darling five-year-old,

Tied up in a little bundle

Some toys, with a loving care,

And marked it, 'For the Brownie,'

In letters large and fair,

And, 'We wish a Merry Christmas!'

And then, in the dusk, the three

Went to the wood and left it

Under the great oak tree.

While the farmer's fair little children

Slept sweet on that Christmas night,

Two wanderers through the forest

Came in the clear moonlight.

And neither one was the Brownie,

But sorry were both as he;

And their hearts, with each fresh footstep,

Were aching steadily.

A slender man with an organ

Strapped on by a leathern band,

And a girl with a tambourine

A-holding close to his hand.

And the girl with the tambourine,

Big sorrowful eyes she had;

In the cold white wood she shivered,

In her ragged raiment clad.

'And what is there here to do?' she said;

'I'm froze I' the light o' the moon!

Shall we play to these sad old forest trees

Some merry and jigging tune?

'And, father, you know it is Christmas-time,

And had we staid I' the town

And I gone to one o' the Christmas-trees,

A gift might have fallen down!

'You cannot certainly know it would not!

I'd ha' gone right under the tree!

Are you sure that none o' the Christmases

Were meant for you and me?'

'These dry dead leaves,' he answered her, sad,

'Which the forest casteth down,

Are more than you'd get from a Christmas tree

In the merry and thoughtless town.

'Though tonite be the Christ's own birthday night,

And all the world hath grace,

There is not a home in all the world

Which holdeth for us a place.'

Slow plodding adown the forest path,

'And now, what is this?' he said;

And the children't bundle he lifted up,

And, 'For the Brownie,' read.

And, 'We wish a Merry Christmas Day!'

'Now if this be done,' said he,

'Somewhere in the world perhaps there is

A place for you and me!'

And the bundle he opened softly:

'This is children's tender thought:

Their own little Christmas presents

They have to the Brownie brought.

'If there liveth such tender pity

Toward a thing so dim and low,

There is kindness sure remaining

Of which I did not know.

'Oh, children, there's never a Brownie --

That sorry, uncanny thing;

But nearest and next are the homeless

When the Christmas joy-bells ring.'

Out laughed the little daughter,

And she gathered the toys with glee:

'My Christmas present has fallen!

This oak was my Christmas tree!'

Then away they went through the forest,

The wanderers, hand in hand;

And the snow, they were both so merry,

It glinted like the golden sand.

Down the forest the elder brother,

In the morning clear and cold,

Came leading the little sister

And the darling five-year-old.

'Oh,' he cries, 'he's taken the bundle!'

As carefully round he peers;

'And the Brownie has gotten a Christmas

After a thousand years!'"