Monday, December 14, 2020

The Mantle

I'm not sure if I've lost my mind, but I've decided that I'm going to do a post everyday from now until Christmas. It's not like I have extra time on my hands, but this morning it seemed like a fun challenge because, as you know, daily posting is not something I am usually coordinated enough to do.

Today, I'm going to take you on a trip down memory lane with the decorations on my mantle. They all have a story, of course. So sit back and pretend to be mildly interested as I regale you with the accounts of where I got some of them. 


This tapestry was my mother's. She got it from a young woman, Melissa, from our hometown who lived in Thailand for several years doing missionary work. During Melissa's stay, my mother sent her many care packages and letters. My mother was good about that sort of thing. Over the years, she sent out hundreds of care packages to college kids, people in nursing homes, etc.  
(Packing tip that I learned from my mother. Cookies travel well in an empty Pringles can.)


This was made by a close family friend.  She and her husband are renaissance people and can do just about anything they set their mind to. At the time she made this, one of their endeavors was making rustic furniture.


These needlework trees were made by my aunt. They were especially appreciated because they were made after she started to have problems with dementia. 


This Christmas tree was made by Wally when he was four years old. As you can see, it's a pine cone that's been spray painted green, glued into a wooden spool. Most of the "branches" had sequins glued on them for the decorations. There are only a few of those left at this point.


When I was in college I lived in a trailer park. Next door was a lovely couple who watched out for me. One Christmas, they gave this tree, that the wife had made, so I could have some decorations. I have seen these ceramic trees in the stores recently marketed as vintage trees. It's true. Everything old is new again.



This is the Christmas stocking that I grew up with. There were four of them just alike for me and my sisters.  We didn't have a fireplace, so in the beginning they were hung on a window sill. Later they moved to the steps' railing where the made an appearance every Christmas until my mother entered the nursing home. They were always hung from oldest to youngest, but to avoid confusion, my grandmother embroidered our names on the top of them.  (You may notice, I carefully cropped that part out.) I hung this one along with my other one and have told Santa I'd like both of them filled. :)


This tree and its ornaments belonged to my grandmother. She died when I was nine after living with us for several years, but I remember seeing it in her house. Technically, this is not mine, but is supposed to be rotated among me and my sisters. They deferred to me this year.



And in other news, the passing showers we were supposed to have this morning 
turned into almost an inch of rain followed by snow. 
No real accumulation. That is coming Wed.