Box of Nostalgia

   The past month...yes, MONTH...has seen me clearing out, repainting and totally cleaning the upstairs guest bedroom.  It took a month.  It will take another month to get rid of the stuff that I hauled downstairs.  It is amazing that the Little Bayou House has not collapsed from the sheer weight of stuff that has been piled in it.  To be fair, a lot of the clutter upstairs had to be stored there when termites decided to eat the downstairs.  When there is major construction going on, you really do not want to have furniture and knickknacks in the way.  So, I hauled it all upstairs.  This month, I hauled it all back downstairs.  Some has been discarded but it really is important to have chairs at the dining table.  Putting pictures back on the walls was a nice touch, too.  Yep, all of that was upstairs.  All of that and a whole slew of items left behind by my kids when they moved on with their lives.

  I hit a bit of nostalgia with my sorting.  In a box of things that my oldest son had in his room as a kid, I found a bunch of wall plaques.   These things were garage sale finds, flea market purchases or gifts to him when he decided to decorate his room HIS way.  I was all for it.  Nowadays, kids would never be happy doing what he did.  The search for treasures was a huge part of his fun when he was choosing the perfect items.  In this day and age, kids do not want "old things".  It all has to be new and be exactly what everybody else has.  Not my kids.  They loved having the freedom to express themselves.  He did exactly that.  So did the other two.  

  Now, those "treasures" are left for me to dispose, keep or rehome.  As I am going through the boxes, I often wonder if I should have kept the kids' rooms strictly "neat as a pin" instead of letting them have the freedom to decorate as they pleased.  I figure it had a lot to do with letting them develop their own personalities.  I can say that each of them turned out to be pretty great adults.  Maybe that says something...or maybe that says it all.  

Lights....Stars and Hearts

  This evening as I was turning off the many Christmas lights that bedazzle the Little Bayou House, I stopped to marvel at the little tin stars that dangle beneath the mantle.  The three inch metal stars have been at the place for so long that I have forgotten just where I got them.  Probably, they were just a whim purchase many years ago when the kids were mere tykes.  Back then, I would squirrel away a few pennies to buy some cheap little pieces to please the children.  Over the years, those dime-store things have become quite collectible and are now worth a lot more than what I spent on them.  It does not matter. The point of buying the knickknacks was to bring wonder to the eyes of the kids.  Even though at that time Mark and I scrounged to make ends meet, I could not let that wonder die.  Kids need to be enthralled over things even if those things are homemade or inexpensive.  Not everything is about money.  It is about life and all of the wonderment that can be jammed into it.  It was my intention to make the kids' imaginations literally explode with excitement and curiosity. Christmas was a perfect time to do just that.  With money short at times, there had to be ways to dodge the razzle-dazzle and focus on the spirit behind the season.  

  This evening before flipping the switch on the star lights, a flood of memories came back to haunt the brain.  Memories of sitting by the fireside creating folded paper angels to bring to the hospital for the nurses there.  Memories of baking marathons to supply the entire neighborhood of elderly folks with cookies. Memories of singing carols while we looked at Christmas lights decorating the yards and houses of others.  Memories of placing Baby Jesus in the manger on Christmas Eve after hanging the stockings from the mantle.  Memories...memories of happy times.  And you know what?  It is those little things that my kids still talk about to this day even though they are all now adults.  Those things are their memories as well.

  When I took the photograph of the little stars, only one came out clear.  All of the "just in case" photos were slightly blurred to the point that the dots of light came out looking like little hearts.  That is what it is all about, folks.  That little heart that glows in us all.  The love shared with others is what it is all about. 

What Changes...Stays the Same

  Santa Claus has changed a good bit throughout the years.  Whether you look back on the lore of St. Nicklaus, Kris Kringle or Father Christmas, the story behind the character is all the same.  A kindly old gentleman (who had wealth untold) secretly gave gifts to those deserving.  Later this changed to giving gifts to children.  That part stayed pretty much the same through the centuries but his appearance changed with time.  Depending upon who was describing the jolly old geezer, he was anywhere from tall and thin to short and roly-poly.  His dress went from robes to a nice, red fur trimmed outfit that is most recognizable today.  His mode of travel changed from going on foot, riding a horse or in a sleigh with magical reindeer.  

A picture of Santa Claus that adorns a child's art box from long ago.

  It is not these changes that occurred to me today, however.  It is the changes that have happened in my life. Santa Claus used to be the magical man who slid down our chimney to bring a toy or two.  Later as a new parent, Santa took on a different roll. He (we) was the giver who longed to see the joy in a child's eyes.  As time passed, children grew into adults and Santa became tired.  The excitement had passed and Santa Claus moved on to other neighborhoods.  Christmas just was not the same.  This year, the joy will be seen in grandchildren's eyes.  The jolly old elf will make his rounds again filling the stockings and leaving gifts under our tree. 

   As a child, I believed....truly believed he was real only because of one special neighbor who overnight became the "man in red".  As a small child during lean times, I had been forewarned that Santa Claus may not have made enough toys for every boy and girl and that our toys may be given to less fortunate children.  I went to bed just knowing that somehow Santa would come at least to fill the stockings.  Instead, I awoke to find the jolliest man bearing gifts.  It mattered not that it was our neighbor, Mr. Sidney.  It mattered not that he wore a red flannel shirt and wore a Stetson hat.  It mattered not that the gifts were toted in a sack that once held oats for cattle.  He was Santa that Christmas morning.  I believed...still do.  Things change but somewhere, somehow, someone out there is Santa...even if only for a day.  Those who give without expecting anything in return, those who share no matter how meager their own portion, those who bring happiness even without a gift...those are the folks who are Santa.  That part has not changed.  

A Little of This, A Little of That.....

  It is funny how some things seem to just stick around forever.  I have a wealth of more or less useless items that have, for some unknown reason, been entrusted to my care.  Since I have been dubbed the "Keeper of Weird and Wonderful Things", I do my best to preserve each and every one.  Why?  Who knows.  Perhaps it was instilled in me long ago that I should not toss anything that might serve a purpose some day. Who is going to follow in my footsteps and hang onto each and every one of these oddities?  Probably no one.  When my days on this earth come to an end, I have a feeling that that will be the final days for all of my treasures as well.  

  Today saw me pondering health and "hoarding".  Perhaps the lack of good health has made me feel the overpowering wealth of treasures that fill every nook and cranny of the Little Bayou House.  I like being surrounded by nostalgic items especially around the holidays.  It seems that memories can sometimes be a powerful force in our well-being.  

  Gathering together a good many of the antique Christmas ornaments made me realize that I have far too many decorations but it would break my heart to part with them.  I did promise to go through the mess after the holidays are over and at least toss anything that is broken beyond repair.  Even that is hard for a crafter since we are always thinking "I can make something with those pieces!"  (That mentality is why my craft room resembles a flea market!)  When looking over the latest box discovered in the back of the closet, I realized that most of these are light bulbs.  Mom and Pop did not have a lot of money to spend on decorations so Mom tied strings to burned out lights from my grandparents' place.  These became ornaments.  I thought of how cute the birds, Oriental lanterns and even the Santa bulbs must have been on a tree.  I have to admit that the floating head might have given me the willies, though!  To make matters worse, the head was "two faced".  Both sides had the same features.  Too scary for me.

  Some of these antique ornaments stay out all year long while others are whisked away to the upstairs closet when the tree, garland and lights take leave.  Collections, like memories, can become quite cluttered with age.  It just takes a bit of sorting now and again to straighten things.  I need to dust the cobwebs from the corners of my mind and from the knickknacks that fill the shelves.

"Tis Nothing New

  I took a few moments today to stick up some of the Christmas decorations.  Yep, I am slacking!  The Little Bayou House should have been bedecked long ago but somehow that just did not happen. Today, however, I made progress even though the tree is still not in its rightful place all adorned with lights and ornaments.  Some day soon, I hope. What did occur to me was that, as I tied a big bow to the garland on the stair rail, is that nothing is new.  A few weeks ago, Darling Daughter and I visited one of our local stores and we were both amazed at how burlap has become all the rage.  Burlap and canvas...well, who would have thought?!  I admit that I did buy several rolls of printed burlap ribbon.  After all, it is ribbon!  Who can resist buying Christmas ribbon?  
  
  While digging around in the decoration boxes, I came to two conclusions.  One..that I own far too many doodads that scream holidays and, two..most of my decorations are at least thirty years old! Some are far older as it seems that I inherit every aunts', parents' and grandparents' decorations.  I cannot part with them.  That just seems like sacrilege!  What would my kinsfolk think if I just tossed their prizes to the wayside??

  It was in that box that I came across several short strands of garland that I bought when my oldest was just a wee babe some thirty-plus (and we won't go there!) years ago.  The stringing for the garland was jute, burlap Santas and fabric scrap Christmas Trees were dotted at six inch intervals.  I loved this garland and used it in the kitchen for years!  But I was a bit bemused as the current rage for burlap seemed to be nothing more than a repeat of Christmases past.  Long, long ago, it was not uncommon to use what was on hand whether it be for everyday items or happy decorations.  I can remember wearing dresses that Mom sewed out of flour sacks and having curtains made from the same pattern. (It was pretty neat to be able to blend in with the draperies!)  I made dolls from corn husks and pine needles and used jute string, burlap and canvas for everything!  It was cheap!  As matter of fact, all of those things were free for the taking.  On the farm, those items were always on hand.

  The Little Bayou House is decorated with pine limbs, cones and burlap ribbon.  Homemade ornaments are stashed in bowls and boxes as they await their place on the tree.  Wooden toys, hand-sewn calico gingerbread men dangle from threads in the kitchen windows and paper snowflakes swing happily from a garland of jute string.  Yep, there is nothing new about the decorations.  Nostalgia is good during the holidays.  It takes us all home.

 

It Is Time

There comes a time when all things must go to their proper homes.  Yep, I do believe that time has come.  Since both my oldest son and my daughter have met their soulmates, married and moved into their own homes, it is high time that all of their belongings move with them.  (My daughter-in-law and my son-in-law will probably cringe at the thought!)  I have come to the conclusion that the Little Bayou House would not be near so cluttered if it were not that I am storing stuff that is not mine.  It is time...it is high time...that this stuff moves.  Yes, a lot of it was being tossed when they left here and I admit that I salvaged it.  I pulled things that I thought they would like to have somewhere down the line.  These items had some special meaning to them when they were younger and it might have the same special meaning as they age.  Even if it is only for a bit of nostalgia, things can be revisited at some point in life and have a whole new value.  For instance, a few (very few) things that I had as a youngster have over the years found their way back into my possession. The memories that were held by these items are priceless.  These things are from a time past....a time that will never be again.  The cobwebs in the corners of my brain get shuffled about a bit when I touch some long-lost bit of my childhood.  I hope the things that I saved serve a hefty bit of nostalgia to my kids when I bestow the gifts of things past to them.

  There are two things that my son might actually enjoy seeing once again. One is a tiny rod and reel that was his very first.  No, this is not one of the toy type reels that kids use today.  This is an actual rod and reel....small but real.  We bought this for him when he was a little over three years old.  He used to go fishing a lot with my dad and used a hand line.  He caught so many fish using that piece of string that we figured it was time to upgrade to a real pole.  He loved it and learned to use it quickly.  With this tiny rod and reel, the kid caught some pretty huge fish!  

  The other item is a small net.  An elderly gentleman that was Pop's good friend used to talk with my son when he was just a tyke.  One day, he told my son to stand tall and let him get a measurement.  We had no idea what he was up to with this bit if information but fully trusted the old man.  Mr. Rosetti had been a fisherman for all of his life and he wanted to do something to help instill the love of fishing in our little boy.  A few days later, he came back to Pop's house and was carrying a brown paper bag.  He was grinning from ear to ear when he handed the bag to my little boy.  Inside was a homemade brail net.  It was perfect! He informed us that to be a good one, a net should be just a bit taller than the person throwing it.  This is why he measured our son. He wanted to make a net that was just his size. The net is one of the old style cotton nets and not like the new monofilament types of today.  My son learned to throw the net and soon could catch bait or shrimp with the best fishermen.  His net was one of his favorite gifts he ever received.  How could I toss this thing to the wayside when he outgrew it.  The thing has lasted all of these many years.  Many little kids that have visited the Bayou over the years have learned to throw a net using this very one.   I am in hopes that my son will now teach his little ones the fine art of brail net casting.

   I am also in hopes that the net and the rod and reel will bring back many fond memories.  That will make all of those years that I stored the thing well worth the trouble.  Most likely, most of the things I saved really should be tossed but that will have to be up to my kids...not me.  I just do not have the heart to do it.  Not after some thirty years of storing the things?....not at all.

The Thanksgiving Rose

  Back when I was a youngster on the farm, things were a lot different than today.  It feels strange that I say that since I always conjured up visions of antiquity when Pop or Granddad would start a sentence with those very words.  It never occurred to me that some day I might be the "older generation" and be giving sage advice to lads and lasses of another generation (or two) but here I am, being nostalgic about the way things used to be.  

  Along about mid-November, Pop would start noticing what was happening with the rose bushes.  He wanted to make sure that he did not miss a very special event.  Invariably, a single rose would bloom on Thanksgiving Day.  If he had anything to do with the timing or whether it was pure coincidence, I shall never know.  The rose was dubbed the "Thanksgiving Rose" by Mom.  I never remember a Thanksgiving Day go by that Pop did not pick the rose for Mom.  It was just a special thing between the two of them.  It never dawned on me at the time just how special this ritual was until I became an adult with my own gardens.  It is difficult to have roses blooming in November much less on a certain day.  Perhaps there was some divine intervention in this occurrence.

  This past week among all of the hubbub of the holidays, I sort of lost contact with what was going on with the gardens.  They were more or less left to their own doings and hopefully would survive my absence. On the actual day of Thanksgiving, Darling Daughter and I ventured out to take a bit of a stroll.  It always seems that we are left alone after preparing the massive meal.  The guys were either busy among themselves or napping.  While we meandered about the gardens, she pointed out that a single, long-stemmed rose was blooming.  Aww, the Thanksgiving Rose!  The bit of curious tradition had passed to another generation.  Not that I had anything to do with the bush blooming but I was sure happy to see the red rose.  It brought back a rush of memories that I should share with my daughter.  It is little things like this that somehow make life worth living....or perhaps I really am just being nostalgic here as I grow older.  Back when I was youngster on the farm.....

Feeling a bit nostalgic about Carnivals, Halloween and Ditch Daisies!

  It always happens just about this time of year.  My brain starts telling me that I should be pulling out all of the Fall and Halloween decorations.  I long to drape the stair rails with garlands of orange and red leaves and place pumpkins in every nook and cranny.  My son always tells me that it is too early and squashes any hopes of the place being festive any time soon.  His view is that one week of the decorations is enough.  If I had my way, the Little Bayou House would be bedecked year round!  Secretly, as soon as I finish refurbishing the craft room, I plan on pulling the decorations from the upstairs closet.  At least I can get a "feel" for the upcoming holiday season!  I mean, my goodness, why wait?  There are too many pretties hiding in the closet!  They should be showcased not hidden away in the dark depths of some creepy closet!

  To further push my yearning for Fall decorations, Mother Nature splashed the edge of the woods with daisies!  The bright yellow blooms brought back a flood of memories!  When I was just a youngster, Pop always seemed to be in charge of the Halloween Carnival at the local elementary school.  Since everything back in the day was a lot simpler, decorations for the event were made not bought.  His budget for staging the huge, fun-filled carnival was about $50!  Hundreds of kids made their way through the carnival playing games and getting prizes.  The tickets were twenty for a $1 which made it highly affordable for most everyone. The PTA was the sponsor and always made a hefty profit off of the event. That money was immediately spent for the betterment of the school. 

   But back to those decorations!  Months before the carnival, Pop would start getting prizes, food and equipment donated.  Decorations were handmade.  I can remember creating a lot of the decorations even as young as I was.  Painting cardboard Jack-O-lanterns, folding orange and black crepe paper streamers and hand-stamping brown paper goody bags all needed the attention of the younger kids in the family.  The older siblings were put to work sorting prizes and filling goody bags.  The day before the actual carnival saw the whole family in action!  Pop's booth was always the Balloon Burst!  The object was to throw a dart at a board filled with balloons. (Yep, he used real darts with metal points.)  If you popped one, you got a prize...with Pop, if you didn't hit one you got a prize!  He thought every kid should be happy!  We blew up all of those balloons!  (Thank goodness for an air compressor!) Those several hundred, inflated balloons were awfully fun to tote to the school!  Also on the day of the carnival, we headed out in the old Studebaker station wagon to pick any and all daisies we could find on the sides of the road. (Hence the name "Ditch Daisies"!)  It never dawned on me back in the day but I am certain that more than a few folks thought we were crazy as the kids scrambled about in the ditches to pick armloads of the weeds!  Back home, Mom would place these in paper covered buckets and they, too, were hauled to the school.  Every classroom had daisies!  The hallways had daisies!  The cafeteria had daisies!  It was gorgeous!

  I am quite certain that none of this could ever be done today.  If a carnival at all was to be held nowadays, it most likely would have to be a "Fall Carnival" to be "politically correct".  The PTA (is there even any such organization today?) would have to set forth a huge budget to pay for the attractions, not to mention have to charge a huge admission to cover that budget.  Those attractions would not consist of things like "Beanbag Toss", "Cake Walk", "Balloon Burst", "White Elephant Booth", "Fish Pond", "Fortune Teller's Booth" or most likely not even the "Basketball Throw".  Nope, now they would be some strange inflatable or electronic games.  Prizes would not be donated (sometimes broken) costume jewelry, old toys, pencils with company logos and baggies filled with homemade candy. The food would not be homemade treats such as popcorn balls, brownies or pies.  Everything would have to be prepackaged, store-bought, sugary treats.  Something is very wrong with this picture....very wrong.

  I miss the old time Halloween Carnivals.  I miss the homemade decorations.  I miss the popcorn balls, brownies and pies.  I miss the simplicity of the times, the innocence of Halloween, the family oriented events and months-long preparations that involved whole families not just the adults.  Believe it or not, it was fun for the kids to be included and not just have everything handed to them.  Yep, I sure had a blast of nostalgia today.  These wonderful memories fed a yearning to take a step back in time...or maybe one into the future.