Letting go . . .

When our son, Karl, was five years old he imparted to me a bit of wisdom that will serve me all my days on earth.  We were out walking, and we saw a baby robin hopping on the grass.  Karl commented, “If I ‘ketched’ a little bird, I would not put it in a cage.  I’d hold it for awhile, and then let it go.”

Life is an ongoing exercise in holding for awhile, then letting go.  Currently I am letting go of a beloved young family:  our grandson, Joshua, his wife, Kelly, and their precious children—Ethan, Cole, and Ella.  These Valentines (that is their last name!) are moving to California, where Josh has accepted a new job. 

Josh and his family have been our neighbors for the last two plus years, here in the northern reaches of our county.  They are the kind of people who show up and sit quietly by your side when you have been rushed to Emergency.   We’ve stashed away a treasure trove of memories with these young people—pizza outings, birthday celebrations, strolls in the park, and lots of ice cream occasions.  I have shed tears over losing this family, and I’ll undoubtedly shed more tears.  Yet I smile to think of Kelly enjoying San Diego.  Kelly and I are alike; we love warm weather!

I often reflect on how radical it was back in the 1800s when Easterners went West, facing incredible hardships and dangers.  Even more life changing was the uprooting of millions of immigrant families who came to our land from other continents, for a fresh start and the hope of a better life—or, as in the case of most of my ancestors, for religious freedom.  We can concentrate on thinking with all we have, yet we cannot begin to comprehend what those early settlers experienced—let alone the courage they displayed.

So California is not that far away, and it is not inaccessible!  A few hours by air.  Yet it sounds like the other end of the world to me, now that flying is no longer one of my favorite things!  I would relish a long trip on the Amtrak, but sitting on a train is not Joe’s idea of fun.  We’ll see what we can dream up.  Meanwhile our loved ones will be back to visit, with so much family in Wisconsin.

 ↑ Ethan (in front), Joshua holding Cole, Kelly holding Ella 

Letting go!

Margaret L. Been, ©2012

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REJOICE!

Now that turkey leftovers are resting in the freezer, we begin our Christmas celebrations.  With a large family, there is no such thing as “too soon”.  Actually, I normally trim our tree early in November of each year.  When Daylight Saving ends, and that sudden thud of darkness descends, the glowing lights and holiday preparations are welcome!  By mid-January, when we stash our ornaments and tree for another year, the sun will have resumed its faithful return trip North.  Meanwhile, Christmas lights are a panacea for diminishing daylight—and so are the holiday gatherings with loved ones. 

We had our first Christmas celebration last Friday with our Grandson Joshua and his family.  Josh and Kelly have three beautiful young ones—Ethan, Cole, and Baby Ella who just turned 1.  In fact, we celebrated Ella’s birthday along with our early Christmas.  Of course we’ll all be together again over the coming weeks, but Joe and I love to gather with each family individually as well. 

Below, you’ll see a delighted Great-Grandma and three of her treasures (wearing the hats which I knitted for them):  left to right—Cole, Ella, and Ethan.  So many reasons to REJOICE! 

Most of all, I rejoice in the Lord Jesus—The Reason for the Season! 

Margaret L. Been, ©2011

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Still Buying Green Bananas!

In two days I will turn 78, and yes Joe and I are still stepping out in faith and buying green bananas.  (Think about that one!) 

Yesterday our daughter, Debbie, had a gala birthday party for this occasion, starting indoors with gifts and cake and ending beside Debbie and Rick’s pool.  Corraling the TRIBE OF BEEN into a corner of a room for a family photo is quite an undertaking, but I did it!  I snapped the above picture.  If my math is correct, 15 family members are missing in the photo—due to work or distance.  After I shot the photo, Joe insisted that someone take another so that I could be in a picture.  So our grandson, Adam, stepped out to do the honors and I sat beside Joe.  ↓

Joe and I like “kissy” photos.  As Joe says, “This all started with a kiss!”

To complete the scenario of yesterday’s memorable celebration, here is a shot of THE DRESS—decorated for me by my artist/niece, Nancy, who lives in Colorado Springs.  Nancy, are you blogging today?  I heard rumors that you will also see photos of your masterpiece on Facebook.  Thanks again for a smashing garment, a certain conversation starter, and a magnificent work of art! 

Meanwhile, we love those bananas!

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Junk, Junk, Wonderful Junk!

Our daughter, Laura, made this whiligig at a workshop near her home in Washington State.  The beauty is a composite of treasures culled from rummage and estate sales in her area.

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Those of us who enjoy junking are NEVER BORED—and we’ll probably never be tempted to go off the deep end financially with our passion for collecting, because the stuff we prefer doesn’t normally cost that much. 

The items we love best are those which many folks disregard, discard, and even look down their noses at.  These people don’t get it.  They’re missing a huge chunk of abundant living to be found in foraging garage sales, scrap yards, and curbsides!

Now that rummage season is in full swing, our joy cups run over on a regular basis—often at way less than $20.00 per outing.  We come home renewed, refreshed, and super charged with creative ideas as to where we will place, or how we will use, our newly acquired treasure.  One thing is certain:  where junkers are concerned, there are no two homes alike.  Our decor is highly individual.  It can be simulated, but never cloned!

In celebration of junk, junk, wonderful junk, here are some outdoor shots of our comfy little condo where Joe and I live contentedly with loads of junk:

↑  The small blue granite pitcher peeking out of the Hosta is mounted on an upside down lamp base from one of those derelict “Made in China” lamps which, after 2 years of use, tend to become electrically unsafe.  The base (hidden in the photo) was too pretty to discard, so I cut off its cord and glued my vintage blue pitcher on its bottom.  Behind the pitcher is a broken, circa 1930 plate.  I never discard broken china or pottery, as it can always find a pleasant home among my garden or house plants.

And observe the old watering can, complete with its “rose” on the spout.  These are pricey now, as most everyone wants an old watering can.  Fortunately, I found mine years ago. 

 ↑   A saxophone playing frog leans against the bird feeder, with our mutant Bleeding Heart providing a background.  Froggie was actually a new purchase, a gift from our daughter Laura. 

Note the Virginia Creeper creeping up the trellis—one of my all time favorite vines, also called Woodbine or Englemann Ivy.  It’s indestructable in our northern climate.  More damaged pottery rests on a handmade-by-Joe bench on the right as you view the photo.

↑  A closer look reveals the frog’s companions:  a bunny and a skull from the Southwest, reminiscent of artist Georgia O’Keeffe.

↑  The hangy thingy next to the hummer feeder was assembled by a local artist who has a business called FUNKY FINDS.

You can see the tops of a couple of old screens.  Screens and shutters with chipped, peeling paint are always welcome at our home—indoors or out.  One can never get enough of those!

↑  Here is our patio, right off the living room so that we savor a year ’round indoor/outdoor atmosphere.  The patio is the setting for many lazy spring, summer, and autumn days spent sipping iced tea, reading, snoozing, and cloud gazing.  The patio faces east, so that we can sun bathe in the morning and rest in the afternoon shade. 

This picture was taken in a downpour.  The card table gets covered with a lovely vintage cloth on sunny days.  It also serves as a place for my art equipment and afternoons of sketching and painting.

The smashing antique croquet set was a rummage sale treasure which cost $5.00.  It has all its mallets, balls, and arches—with an old rag tied to each arch.  We can take the croquet set up the berm to the park, just a few yards away, for killer games.

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In closing, here is one of my most precious photos of our grandsons, Nathaniel and Joelly, with their creation from a junk yard near our up north home.  Nathaniel is the driver of this unique vehicle.  I’m not sure what Joelly is doing with the stick—I think it’s a car window cleaner.  ↓

Upon all the evidence, I rest my case!  Junk is wonderful! 

Margaret L. Been, ©2011

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Home: there’s no place like it!

My friend Karen and I visit a lot on the phone.  Such a nice old-fashioned means of communication!  In fact, the only communication venues that can compare with a congenial phone chat are:  a face to face visit and a real letter via USPS.  Karen and I enjoy these as well. 

Karen and I catch up on our family events, and we chat about gracious, homey things such as our gardens* and our home decor.  Both of us relish an occasional afternoon spent in antique malls on rainy days, and on the local rummage sale circuits when the weather is fair.  We collect all and everything that catches the eye, warms the heart, and can be obtained at a bargain price—and we love to share the news of our latest finds.

Yesterday Karen and I were talking about how we love to be at home—baking, scrubbing, dusting, rearranging, and creating vignettes of beauty around the home.  We never tire of our homes, and neither of us looks at homemaking as a chore, but rather a supreme privilege. 

Being a keeper at home—along with nurturing a family—is the most creative occupation on earth.  Our loved ones flourish in an environment that is relaxing, delightful, fun, and (in my case) funky.  People love to visit a home where the lady of the house is fulfilled and happy.  Words need not be spoken, as the atmosphere says it all!  Home is an artist’s canvas.  When the artist is contented the home exudes beauty, originality, and joy! 

Nearly forty years ago our son Eric—14 years old at that time—made a classic statement which makes me smile to this day.  Eric said (with the characteristic fondness that mellow sons have for their mothers), “Mom, you are such a homey simpleton!”

I realized that the statement, from Eric’s perspective, was a tremendous compliment.  He knew that I was in euphoria at home:  arranging vignettes of beauty, reading old books, watering houseplants, raising cats and dogs, baking bread, and stirring up huge pots of chili for Eric and our other children to share with their friends.

After I finished laughing about Eric’s loving apprisal all those years ago, I explained to him that a “simpleton” was the classic town idiot of folklore and fairy tales.  I still chuckle today when I think of it!  But maybe it’s no joke!  The “world” does view those of us who love to be at home as “simpletons”.

Homey simpleton indeed!  The best job description on earth!  How could anyone want to be anything else? 

Margaret L. Been, ©2011

*Karen is a master gardener whose gardens, in the city of Waukesha, are unlike any I’ve ever seen anywhere.  Walking through her paths is like a trip to England. 

If all goes as planned, photos of Karen’s gardens will be featured on Northern Reflections in a few weeks.  Things are just beginning to get revved up around here, gardenwise.

And finally, below you will see some of the main reasons why HOME is so wonderful!  This photo was taken at a family member’s home—but these treasures visit us a lot.  We are all at HOME at each other’s homes! 

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A Picture Show

Looking at pictures has been a popular form of recreation ever since the invention of photography, and before that throughout the centuries of capturing people and scenery via sketching and painting. 

When I was growing up, one still found stereopticons on coffee tables.  For those who do not haunt antique shops, a stereopticon was a wood and wire thingy in which a double image (often of a travel scene) was inserted into a holder.  The viewer held the stereopticon to the light and slid the wire holder until the images came together.  (If I haven’t clarified that concept, just GOOGLE “stereopticon” and you’ll see it for yourself.)

During the 1930s and early 40s we had albums of tiny photos taken with a primitive Brownie camera, and also 8 mm family movies.  Later my dad bought high tech cameras with multi dials, settings, filters, and lenses—the likes of which I could never figure out in a million years!  Then Dad graduated to making 16 mm movies, and finally to slides and a slide projector.  Slides were the “picture shows” of the 1960s.  Many an evening one had to sit and watch someone’s slides of what seemed like every single cathedral in Europe!

Joe and I skipped the video cassette stage, and kept on taking photos with a Minolta® automatic 35mm which served us well right up to a few years ago with the onset of digital cameras.  Now we can sit and view the cathedrals of Europe on friends’ ubiquitous laptop computers.  Likewise, I can potentially bore my friends to distraction with my computer full of grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

Nonetheless, a picture show is a fun and sharing way to spend a social hour!  At the rist of boring you to distraction (I hope not!) here are some of our family classics:

Our son, Karl, at age 13 in 1975.  When Karl was younger, he looked a lot like John Denver.  Now Karl no longer has a John Denver haircut, but guess where he lives:  you’ve got it, Denver.  (Actually, Centennial which is on the south side of Denver.)  Karl still enjoys that natural “rocky mountain high” depicted in the above New Mexico scene.  I think those are the Sangre de Cristo mountains in the background.

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The two on the right are Karl’s sons, Nathaniel and Joelly, teaching their 1st cousin-once-removed, James, how to be silly.  It seems to come naturally, even for those of us who do not live in or near the Rocky Mountains!

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Going back many years, here is my favorite wild west character.  I don’t know if he’s a cowboy, gunslinger, or U.S. Marshall, but I love him and have been married to him for nearly 58 years!

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About the same time as the cowboy photo was taken, an adventuresome kid was racing (I think it was a 2 horse power engine) around Lake Winnebago—Wisconsin’s biggest inland lake.  Life jackets were something used in the Navy; we never had them when I was growing up.  And look at that!  We wore dresses in boats, at least I did! 

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Fast forwarding to 2004, our Baby Dylan did not have his legal “temps” (and still doesn’t).  But a lot of youngsters have learned to drive on the remote sand roads of the Chequamegan National Forest in the Wisconsin Northwoods. 

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Now it’s 2007 in the picture show.  I was supine on our living room couch—recovering from a roast pork, mashed potatoes, gravy, and pie dinner at the Phillips’ Cafe when this Sunday visitor dropped in.  I’ll be forever thankful that I had my camera handy! 

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You’ve seen this one before and you may see it again!  Great-grandchildren! 

We have 5 more wonderful great-grandchildren not featured here.  I’ll publish the other five as soon as I get some photos of them from their moms. 

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Ooops!  Here are 2 more “classics” which recently came in from a friend.  These photos date back to 1982, when we were getting hay for my sheep.  Can you believe we did that (22 bales!) to a vehicle?  And drove the 6 or 7 miles home? 

Margaret L. Been

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Moving Indoors: Our “English Country Cottage” in Wisconsin

Although we still spend a lot of time outdoors, especially throughout the beautiful Autumn, cooler weather draws us inside as well.  Joe and love I being at home.  There’s room for everything we enjoy doing, right here in the cozy corners of our little condo which resembles an English country cottage. 

I’ve switched from iced tea to hot tea.  An English teapot and cups and saucers are ever ready on our living room coffee table (where coffee is served as well).  I love to hostess tea gatherings, fiber sessions, poetry readings, and afternoons of book or art talk.  Joe and I thrive on lunch or dinner company as well, and our fall and winter soup* suppers are special.

Now that the heat and humidity are behind me, one of my spinning wheels is constantly before me—and I’m producing more gorgeous woollen yarn for wearable art.  How lovely to spin away a rainy afternoon beside the fireplace**, while drinking Earl Grey loose tea steeped in an English teapot!

One of my favorite quotes of all time comes from Dorothy:  “There’s no place like home.” 

So join me, for a mini-stroll through our “Heaven on earth”. 

My mother would be proud of me.  I practice nearly every day!

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My gallery of wearable fiber art is always available for viewing.

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Our pretty kitchen!  Lots of wonderful things happen here!

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Our great-grandchildren’s play corner features this gorgeous doll house which Joe built from a kit years ago.  Completing the doll house with all the individual “cedar shakes” took him longer than it had taken him to add a room onto our home.

The boys and girls love the doll house.  When they visit, it is theirs to arrange, rearrange, redecorate, or whatever.  Not shown in the photo is the rest of the play corner, with a farm and loads of animals which find their way into the doll house.  (My toy dog collection resides there all the time.)

Also in the play corner the little ones enjoy Lincoln Logs, play dishes, many Teddy bears, and loads of wonderful books!  Bring on the children.

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If you are ever in the neighborhood, please stop in for tea! 

Margaret L. Been, ©2010

*For years when we lived up north, we dined at a restaurant which featured sweet and sour cabbage soup.  It was a thin dinner soup, and I purposed to concoct my own thick sweet and sour cabbage soup.  (I make the kind of soups you can almost prop a spoon in.)

By Googling “sweet and sour cabbage soup” I found the constants—the sweet and sour typical proportions for a medium sized crock pot full of soup.  But many recipes contain cider vinegar.  I wasn’t happy with inhaling vinegar fumes while eating soup.  Finally I latched on to lemon juice—the most wonderful “sour” of all.  Here is my sweet and sour cabbage soup:

In a crock pot, cook overnight (14 to 18 hours on low power) a boneless pork tenderloin or boneless beef pot roast in a cup of 100% apple juice, 1 or 2 cups of water, 1 tablespoon of chicken base, 1 tablespoon of beef base, plenty of white pepper (it has to be white pepper for that wonderful afterglow in the mouth!), salt, and a few shakes of MAGGI®.

The next day, tear the meat apart with forks until shredded.  Remove two thirds of the meat and freeze for a later meal of meat and rice, sloppy Joes, or whatever. 

Keep the remaining 1/3rd of the meat in the crock pot.  Add 3 capfuls of REAL LEMON®, 2 tablespoons of brown sugar, more white pepper and salt, a bit more MAGGI®, about one third or one half of a shredded and chopped cabbage, some chopped up carrots, a bit of tomato (not too much—just enough for color and interest), and 3 or 4 tiny chopped up green onion heads.  Add 1 or 2 handfuls of noodles, or 2 or 3 cut up baby reds.  Cook on low power all day—at least 8 hours.

This soup, with homemade or RHODES® bread, jam or honey, and fresh fruit, is about as close to Heaven on earth (foodwise) as you can get! 

But I say the same thing about pea soup, bean soup, minestrone soup, and that amazing post-Thanksgiving turkey soup (made from the boiling the turkey bones, left-over meat and skin, etc.) which we enjoy all winter!   

**Our “fireplace” consists of 4 behind-the-scene light bulbs over simulated logs.  It glows and “flames” like a fireplace, and also has a heat setting for nippy early Autumn mornings.  These gems come in many sizes, and are available at Menard’s.  The one shown above has an attractive surround, with a mantle for my collection of interesting and funky clocks.

We have a smaller Menard’s “fireplace” in our dining area.  How mellow is that!

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Good News for Grandparents!

Grandparents are among the most important people on earth!  I honor mine (born during the Civil War!) for whom they were and what they stood for.  They left me with a legacy of strong character and abundantly pleasant memories—a legacy which every child needs!

My Seattle friend, Lydia Harris, has written a warm-hearted, practical Bible study titled Preparing My Heart for Grandparenting.  Lydia writes from hands-on experience with her own grandchildren.  She is a woman with an overflowing heart—as well as a welcoming home and productive kitchen which would delight any grandchild’s heart.  Along with her husband, Milt, Lydia is a creative and committed Christian grandparent.  Her Bible study is bound to be a blessing for many!

I have known Lydia Harris since 1995, when she began contributing her inspirational pieces to Tea and Sunshine—a periodical which I was editing and publishing at the time.  Along with family insights, Lydia writes articles on the subject of tea and tea parties.  More than just a gracious ritual, serving tea is one of Lydia’s many ministries of loving concern for others—and her tea party ideas (and recipes!) are innovative and unique.

Lydia and I have corresponded via email and the U. S. Postal Service ever since 1995.  On two occasions, Joe and I enjoyed getting together with Lydia and Milt—both times at a tea room in Western Washington state.

As busy as Lydia is with her family, tea parties, and her professional writing career, she always has time to pause and pray with anyone in need.  Her life is characterized by concern for others.  Lydia Harris is a very special lady!

You can get acquainted with Lydia, and order her Bible study if you so desire, at her new website:  http://www.preparingmyheart.net  .  You’ll be glad to meet my friend, Lydia!

Margaret L. Been, ©2010

P. S.  The above photo features my husband, Joe, and our grandson Joel—taken a few years ago. 

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A Vital Dimension!

As you can see from the above photo, taken a couple of years ago in our up north guest house, our grandsons Joel and Nathaniel are fascinated by my beloved craft of spinning. 

The fact that I knit sweaters, hats, shawls, and scarves from my hand spun yarns (spun from sheep wool, llama hair, mohair from angora goats, dog hair, and/or silk) lends a practical purpose to this ancient but currently popular art.  The easy-to-comprehend mechanics of a spinning wheel add to the marvelous mystique of spinning:  engendered in those of us who were raised on the tales of Hans Christian Andersen and The Brothers Grimm.

The wheel pictured above is one of my 5 spinning wheels.  It’s a replica of the Irish Castle Wheel, and it is the one I use most often as it’s easy to move from room to room—or out to the patio where I sit and spin on warm days.  The wheel’s main location is our living room next to the Saxony wheel which I also use frequently and love.  Both wheels (pictured below along with my yarns and some of the garments) have the same mechanism with exchangeable bobbins.  They are Jensen wheels—made in Lake Delton, Wisconsin—and they are “top of the line” in performance as well as exquisite beauty.

As I keyboard on my laptop, I can honestly say that I love old things best:  old appliances, old tools, old dishes, old artifacts of most any kind.  That may sound oxymoronic as I blog, gather information, and do most of my shopping online (with the exception of groceries).  Sometimes I even write letters on the laptop, although email is my least favorite computer function.  There is nothing, no nothing in the world like a real letter on pretty stationery.  The ever-escalating cost of postage will never dim my fondness for the U. S. Postal Service!

New things can be useful, even delightful—as in the case of favorite kitchen appliances like my BREADMAN, electric percolator, and blender for those refreshing smoothies.  I’m on friendly terms with a refrigerator, and an electric oven and range.  I have no desire to cook on wood, even though I’ve nostalgic recollections of my Grandma Rose doing exactly that.

We have a dishwasher, which we do not use—as dishes are too lovely to stash in a machine, and I get much pleasure out of washing them and seeing them lined up in the drying rack on a kitchen counter.  When we had little children and babies, I thought differently and did use a dishwasher.  Now the dishwasher is one of our resident “museums”.  It houses old kitchen gadgets, cookie cutters, etc. which were once used by departed family members—or culled from garage sales and antique shops.

Flush toilets and running water are luxuries I’ll never take for granted.  I love them and would not want to go back to using an outhouse, and pumping and hauling water.  It’s fun to recall the fact that we had only an outhouse (and slop pails for nighttime use) at our summer cottage in the 1940s—and that we hauled water for drinking, cooking, and washing.  But having “been there, done that”, I certainly don’t wish to return.

No!  Other than periodically eschewing a few things like email, I don’t want to go back.  But I do want to preserve, and whenever possible use and enjoy vestiges of the past through home arts such as spinning on my spinning wheels.

Why is preservation so important?  I believe that an appreciation of the past is a vital dimension of life in the present!  Quite basically, we have roots.  Just as a plant is nourished by its God-given roots, we are nourished by ours.  Roots are part of our down-to-earth quality of life, and they are instrumental in that profound pleasure which we derive from simple, everyday things.  Without an appreciation of our roots, we would be plastic people—sterile, robotic, generic, and boring! 

Family roots are vital but so are cultural, lifestyle roots.  I’m not alone in my passion for roots, as evidenced in the popularity of THE ANTIQUES ROADSHOW and the crowds that throng to living history museums.  Life is richer today when we know something about yesterday! 

Our home is blessed to be a mini living history museum, one in a constant state of production with spinning wheels, baskets of wool (still remaining from 20 years of raising my own sheep), a surplus of knitting needles, and a plethora of hand spun yarn and hand fashioned garments!

NOTE:  The 3 shawls on your left as you face this photo are some of many that I wove on my 24″ Baby Wolf Loom–one of 2 looms which are currently still up north due to lack of room for them in our condo.  Having only 2 hands, I manage to keep my fingers moving fast enough as it is with spinning and knitting. 

The “center stage” colorful striped scarf is one I knit over this past winter from yarns which I recently spun and dyed.  Embellished with funky beads and a crocheted border, the scarf is wide enough to double as a stole.

It always freaks me out, when people look at my spinning wheels and call them “looms”.  More education and advocacy are needed in the area of the fiber arts! 

Occasionally, I spin for public events.  People always cluster around the spinning demos, and ask wonderful questions.  How great to be able to promote an appreciation of this time-honored craft!  :)

Margaret L. Been—All Rights Reserved

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In Celebration of CLUTTER!

When I was in grade school, teachers frequently gave the assignment to write on the subject of ”My Pet Peeve”.  That’s about as much “getting in touch with our feelings” as we were supposed to do, back in those sensible days before introspective self-focus was the norm. 

I often think of that assignment, because I do have a Pet Peeve—and I like to write about it, in order to let off some proverbial steam.  My Pet Peeve is anyone who gets all hoity-toity about “getting rid of clutter”.  It’s fine to get rid of clutter if that’s what you really want to do.  I respect that!  But please don’t pontificate—as if divesting oneself of collections were a kind of saintly thing to do.  I’ve aired this issue via my blog before, and I’ll do it again! 

PAH!  What does getting rid of clutter have to do with a gracious, mellow, slow-lane quality of life?  Nothing! Clutter is the grist of a life fully experienced:  the tangible evidence of people cherished, occasions recalled, creativity nurtured, and imagination unleashed. 

Clutter equals fun.  Although we certainly are not to put our faith in stuff that moths can eat and rust can destroy, or worship things as if they were eternally valuable, we have been put on planet earth to make life lovely and interesting for those around us.  We owe it to our fellow man (and woman and child) to create an environment that is fun, funky, and pleasant.  God has given us life!  It’s fitting and proper to respond with gratitude, by wholeheartedly expressing la joie de vivre.  Therefore, let us celebrate clutter!

Obviously, the happy detritus of life needs to be organized.  Organization is a DUH, and one of life’s great joys!  I love organizing clutter nearly as much as I love accumulating the clutter to begin with!  And my husband has always built the most wonderful shelves for me, in nooks and crannies of wherever we’ve lived.  Pictured above, is the storeroom in our condo—all mine!  Joe completed the shelves this week, and I’ve had a time of euphoria, settling in.

Everything is conveniently “to hand” in my storeroom:  boxes of photos, scrapbooking paraphernalia, writing files not currently in use in my studio, gifts and gift wrap, soapmaking supplies, our electric pancake griddle, my canes for those rough “ortho days” when I grope around like Quasimodo, my broom and woolly dusters, dog food, dog meds, and a whole lot more.  My storeroom thrills me so much, that sometimes I just step inside and GAZE!

Even in compact surroundings, like a condo or small apartment, there is always room for stuff we enjoy—along with creative options for display.  One of my favorite contemporary authors is writer/photographer Mary Randolph Carter whose home in a Manhattan high rise apartment is filled with family mementoes and “junk” culled from rummages, resale shops, etc. 

In her recent book, FOR THE LOVE OF OLD, Carter has a chapter titled “The Secret Cupboard”—with charming photos of a pine cabinet in her home where she has arranged childhood treasures, books, some of her sons’ baby garments, etc.  Her cabinet is kind of a mini-attic.

I love this concept of a memory display cupboard, and I’ve created exactly that in an Edwardian era side-by-side in our dining area.  The side-by-side is packed with little things which our children and grandchildren have made for me, or given to me, over the years—and toys which they loved when they were younger.  When the great-grandchildren visit I encourage them to handle the treasures, and I share the stories.  Here are some glimpses of what I’ve named “Grammy’s Museum”: 

I believe we all need an ”attic” of some sort, at least a few memory-packed shelves where we can experience REALITY!  The sterile, fast-lane, ”get rid of clutter” mentality is not real—and certainly not conducive to a relaxed quality of life!

Wherever Joe and I live, our entire home is our “attic”—filled to overflowing with evidence of life well lived!  And as long as we are still here on earth, there’s room for more! 

Margaret L. Been—All Rights Reserved

P. S.  Nostalgia!  As I grew up we had a summer cottage, with no running water for drinking. One of my chores* was to pump buckets of water from an outside well, and store the water in a milk can in our kitchen. 

A dipper hung by the milk can, supposedly to be used only for transferring water from the can to our drinking glasses.  We were not ”allowed” to drink from the dipper.  But guess what?  We always did, when we thought no one was looking!

Because of childhood memories, dippers are precious to me.  Hence my collection of dippers, pictured below, hangs over our kitchen sink.  Sometimes I grab a dipper and drink from it, whether anyone’s looking or not! 

*My other chores at the summer cottage were emptying the slop buckets (our night-time “toilets”) into the outhouse and cleaning the outhouse.  My folks knew how to be parents! 

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