When Harry Met Sally

A cross-town excursion, a soldier who would never fill out his uniform. A tiny woman in a red polka dot dress. He made her laugh and laugh again, a number exchanged before the end of the line. One heart recognizing it's own beat in another. Commitment to faith, their One true love.

Ornella would bring nine children into hers and Jimmy's lives. Cross words never spoken when prayer and laughter could solve any problem. I would beg to watch their home movies as a new mother to learn the secrets of their parenting success. "Joy. It is as simple as that. Jimmy and I couldn't wait for the day to begin to see our children. Each was a precious gift from God. How lucky were we to be so blessed?"

The pattern of Ornella's days could be found in her kitchen. Blinds opened before dawn, coffee pot percolating, laundry to fold on the table. Breakfast eggs and toast, sandwich production on the counter, brown sack kisses, home after school. Freshly baked cookies, out the door again, wash up for dinner, prayers of thanks. Round table homework, baths on Saturday, kneeling on Sunday. Blinds closed with the last laundry folded.

When you looked at Ornella, she would be looking at Jimmy. If you looked at Jimmy, he would be looking at Ornella. You could see the tiny woman in the red polka dot dress and the tall soldier in a uniform never to be filled out. You could see their hearts beating together as one. You could see love in it's truest form.

Jimmy was called home first, and there he waited. Ornella was found not long after at her kitchen table, her window blinds opened. Young love waiting to meet again "When Harry Met Sally."

Jimmy was my father-in-law's best friend for 75 years.

By the sea, by the beautiful sea

The summer of my eighth year of childhood is indelibly transcribed in my memory file folders, the one labeled PARENTS. It was the summer both my father and mother volunteered to participate in the Girl Scout Jamboree.

My father was given the responsibilities of swimming instructor and life guard. My mother was assigned  director of the Arts and Crafts tent. My young brother and I spent our days tagging behind senior scouts who didn't shoo us away.

Our days could not have been more idyllic. Sun browned arms and legs, the Aegean Sea blue under cloudless skies. Evening campfires, my mother's voice in song. Army cots with criss-crossed wooden legs, wooly green blankets against a starry night's chill.

I acquired my love of crafts this special summer alongside my mother who could fashion the most amazing things from nearly anything found. I was continually puffed with pride from overheard compliments about my mother from the girls in green.

I know it is because of my mother that my blog has been filled with crafts that can be easily made and shared with children. Flower Fairies, a perfectly perfect spring craft!

Hair is made from thin strips of felt about 2 1/2" long. Use a thin beading needle to gather the strip accordion style, go back through pleats several times to secure. A knot is not needed. I have punched from an old greeting card to a daughter the inside signatures, "Mommy and Daddy" to make bases for the faeries to stand.

For so many years I kept tucked away in my jewelry chest, Plaster of Paris pins that my mother had painted scenes on to remind us of the Jamboree. Red and blue bathing tents with the blue sea beyond, colorful flags flying at their peaked tops. Sailboat sails caught by the wind, figures swimming in the sea, beach towels drying on a makeshift line.

I don't know what became of the little pins; so this is why I am so glad to have my Memory Files.  My mother and father were so happy together at this Jamboree, and I felt so lucky to have them as my parents. I hold this summer very close to my heart.

Goody, Goody Gum Drops!

Something I adore about taking a vacation is having my mail held at the post office. I love the opportunity to visit postal workers who now call me by name and will ask about days they have not seen me. I especially like the moment they will bring to the counter all of the mail that is awaiting my attention. It's like Christmas!

Expecting ordered felt to be in my delivery, I was excitedly surprised to find the publication that will be featuring my felt patterns, Thread Candy Studio.

Even more surprising was finding my little Fourth of July "Star" larger than life among the candy colored pages. I was expecting perhaps a little corner, not a three page feature. Wow!

My Opener of Windows Beth did such a fantastic job making the instructions as easy as can be for anyone to follow. A lot of hard work goes into writing patterns, and I am so appreciative of her efforts. The most fun news to be shared in October will be the first edition of Felt Candy which will feature more of my work and also offer kits complete with felt and all supplies should you wish to make your own holiday characters.

The wonderful candy colored pages of this issue inspired my parade of garland hangers with their gumdrop hues.

Truly, there is a Happy Dance going on inside my heart. If you wish to learn more about this publication, you may click on the button on my sidebar. For all of those who have encouraged me with your kind words these past years, please know my patterns are always here for you to find.

POST NOTE: This is the company that owns my patterns until September of 2013 and is why they should not be Pinned to Pinterest. The company has not done anything with them; so after next fall, pin all you like. I love to share anything at all I create!

"Don't Let the Parade Pass You By!"

It seems for so many mothers and daughters, there comes a first day of estrangement that at the time seems to just be another squabble that will end in days. Weeks and then months and even years can pass by with the emotions of anger hiding the forever bonds of Mother Love.

This was the way it was when my father passed away. My mother seemed to become another person, and I was so angry with her for this. Our home at the top of the Neighborhood with Hills filled with Room Renters, my mother became a 9 to 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 pm employee who was never available to me.

 
Having returned with my husband to live in my childhood home at the bottom of the hilly neighborhood, I would drive by her home each day to see if her car was there becoming disappointed and angrier still with each pass by.

Then one day expecting to pass by yet again, I found her car was home. Entering through the front door, I could see my mother on the living room couch watching television. She called out to me, "Sweetheart, come and watch "Funny Girl" with me." (Pooch Tutorial found here)

This was my mother's favorite movie, and she knew I loved it as well. We sat in companionable silence, the beautiful score washing away all of the tension that had been between us. It was at this moment my mother talked to me about being a widow. She spoke of long time couple friends who felt awkward with one lone guest to worry about. She spoke of the hollowness of a home without my father's visits. She spoke of the worry of having to support herself having been away from the work force for so many years. She spoke about the efforts to get through even one day taking all of the energy she had within herself. She asked me to understand.

I would remember this time during the years my daughter's illness drove a wedge between us I thought would never go away. If only for a brief time, I could get her to watch a favorite movie with me, relaxing into memorized words and loved characters. These comfortable moments would sustain us until we could find our way back to each other. I have always loved movies, and I have always loved parades.

Champaign Music

I have a confession to make this new day of the New Year. I adore the Lawrence Welk show! I was not even aware of this show until several years ago and now find myself utterly transfixed to my television Saturday evenings at seven.

I know this show is appealing to me because it perfectly captures the heart of who I am. Hopelessly old-fashioned, forever in a time not my own.

My own attempts at being modern always leave me feeling not myself. I'm always going to be demure, I'm always going to be polite, I'm always going to have "big hair". Thank goodness my family loves me anyway.

In between musical segments of the television show, the performers are featured in an interview as they are today. I take inspiration in their dedication to Lawrence Welk to be the very best of themselves they could be. Entire lifespans spent working for one individual whose respect meant everything.

My little peg doll foursome are inspired by real life sisters, Anne, Peggy, Kathy, and Janet, The Lennon Sisters who were regular performers on the Lawrence Welk Show. From a family of 12 siblings, their feet remained firmly planted on the ground as their popularity grew.

My own daughter is as modern as can be, but I can see her old-fashioned upbringing in her work ethic and her kindness to others. She adored playing with these vintage Lennon Sisters paper dolls when she was a young girl.

As this new day of the New Year begins, instead of listing resolutions to change about myself, I hope I will aspire to be more like individuals I admire so they in turn might admire me.

The Holly Girls

My mother-in-law Ruth lived a life of friendship that is most extraordinary to me.

During her days before marriage,  Ruth worked as a secretary at Holly Carburetor in Detroit, Michigan, along with many other career minded single women.All of the same age with much in common, the women found themselves in fast friendships. So often were they found together that they became known as "The Holly Girls". (Ruth can be seen in the back row, far right)

As much as the women had in common, their personalities were as different as the clothes they chose to wear. Each Holly Girl was accepted for who she was and never left out of any gathering. As marriage proposals brought an end to their Working Girl careers, it was decided that monthly luncheons should be held so they might still keep in touch.

For over thirty years the women gathered still as close as they had been so many years ago. From Ruth's gracious example, I have learned that friendships truly can last a lifetime.

Halloween Pegdoll

I was one of those "mean" Mom's who wouldn't purchase store bought Halloween costumes for her children. I would say to my children, "My brother and I had to invent our own costumes when we were your age!"


My brother was ever so grateful to our father's family in New Orleans for sending him a paper mache Mardi Gras head which he wore for countless years. As ridiculous as he looked wearing a gigantic purple moon shaped head, he did because my mother would say to us, "Invent your own costumes!" We fondly recall our Days of Trick-or-Treating as our "Purple People Eater" days, the name given to my brother's "costume".


Being the "cute" mother that I was, I also required of my children that they not wear a costume that was at all scary. "Mom, I'm so tired of being a Business Man!" my son would complain. The year the movie "Men in Black" was released, he won Best Costume for his Business Man attire.


Do you know that my son and his newlywed wife will celebrate their first anniversary on October 31st, Halloween! Their wedding was simply wonderful held on the theater stage of their college where they met the first week of school. My only requirement for their special day was that no one wear a scary costume. I am happy to say everyone was as cute as could be, even his professors!

And so my Halloween Pegdoll is Cute as Can Be with her Scardy Cat companion by her side.

Emily Post, I Love You!

I love Emily Post. I love manners. When I was a young teen I discovered a copy of "Emily Posts Book of Ettiquite" tucked in with my mother's hundreds of mystery books that lined the bookshelves in our home.

I loved it's faded blue cover and thin as could be pages. I loved the little drawings of place settings and calling cards. I loved the pages of examples of proper greetings. "Mrs. Smith may I introduce you to Mary.", "Mary, May I introduce you to Mrs. Smith."

Right next to Emily on the bookcase was a copy of "Marjorie Morningstar". The story of a young girl's journey from summers at camp to the heartache of first love, the discovery of self.

As all girls do, I would dream of the future and the woman I would become romanticizing that I would be Marjorie complete with manners to move about in polite society.

My husband will tell you about falling in love with me, that I didn't seem to be a young woman of my own times. I seemed to have my own code of behavior that set me apart from my peers.

I giggle now to think who I might have become had two books on a bookshelf not become my bedside companions.

But they were, and they shaped the woman I would become, and I am so grateful for this because I was just the person my true love was looking for.