Cottage Blessings

Those golden wheels explained

in The Cottage Garden!

Haystack Full of Gunthers

Anyone care to venture a guess as to why these large golden bales are in our driveway?

And no, it is not a publicity stunt in advance of the book! Though the timing is perfect!

Bouguereau on Blue and White

Last year's summer in California continues to inspire us!

One of the things we remember well, particularly in Mission Carmel, was the wide variety of blue and white tiles featuring devotional scenes.

The Holy Family:

Our Lady of Mount Carmel:

We also admired the Pieta by Adolphe-William Bouguereau, a larger-than-life painting standing floor to ceiling against a wall of the Legion of Honor Art Museum in San Francisco.

These images and memories formed the inspiration for a simple springtime project--"Blue and White Tiles for Our Lady."

We began with a wooden plaque, holy card, container of tiles, tile glue, and a gold-leafing pen.

It only took about two minutes to gild the edges.

After planning the location of the tiles, a special glue was brushed on the wooden surface and the back of each tile square.

Gluing the tiles did not take long at all.

Here you have it, a partially finished product. It is incomplete because, being a novice at tile work, I thought the mosaic glue would also act as grout. No such luck. I will need to return to the craft store some time soon--or make my own grout from a mixture of white sand and glue. (This photo was taken before the glue dried so you can still see a bit of it round the edges.)

Knowing it might take a month or more before we return to the craft store, I decided to post the project as is, because it is quite pretty already. I am thinking about turning it into a holy water font eventually or putting it on the front door.

Whether or not I ever get around to putting grout in all those cracks!

Crafting for a Crowd: Marian Lanterns

In the memoir of her life, Sister Lucia of Fatima looks back upon how she and her cousins, Blessed Francisco and Jacinta liked to call the moon "Our Lady's Lantern." This is perfect imagery because the moon gets it light from the sun, or, in Our Lady's case, from the Son. In honor of this recollection--with the Feast of Our Lady of Fatima right around the corner--we shared these "Marian lanterns" with the children of our local group.

Paper lanterns are readily available at the craft or party store and come in a wide array of colors. [Ours looked something like this, but they were only $1.49 each at Michael's Craft Store. SEE UPDATE BELOW.] Holy pictures, glitter, ribbon and silk flowers were all we needed to create a festive display for our upcoming May Crowning. The pictures tell the tale:

And now, some notes from the "Live and Learn" files:

1. Laminated holy cards are difficult to glue onto round surfaces, particularly without a glue gun.

2. Big round lanterns roll, presenting something of a difficulty for very young children. They were all so excited about this craft though that they did not let this daunt them for long!

3. If you decide to change the date of your May Crowning, make sure the friends who live furthest away and have the most children hear about it before they travel hours to be there. If you do make a mistake of this magnitude, hope that the victim has a heart of gold and will forgive you immediately.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch . . . .

Over the weekend, with the assistance of a glue gun, the older girls and I made a few more beauties to decorate the family room for May:

Fatima Lantern

The holy card image shows the vision Sister Lucia had just before leaving Fatima to begin her life as a nun. She sees grace and mercy flowing from Our Lord on the cross.

We added a pretty watering can to remind us of the showers of grace available to all who seek them.

Mount Carmel Lantern

[You will note that this is a beautiful and reverent use for an old scapular we had been keeping in a drawer. We attached it so that it would still be usable in the future.]

Holy Name of Mary Lantern (work in progress)

Queen of Peace Lantern

May Our Lady shed her light into our hearts, during this month of May and always!

Warning: Although these paper lanterns are designed for use with an actual lightbulb, once decorated, this becomes a fire hazard. (Candles would not be safe for these lanterns either.)

Variations on a theme

If you will not have time to complete a project like this during May, how about saving the idea for All Saints Day on November 1st? Collect holy cards to create a range of saints' lanterns with your family or homeschooling group. These would make a festive decoration if placed outside the house for All Hallows Eve or at the center of your group's All Saints Day party. Liturgical colors, such as red for martyrs, would add to the beauty and symbolism.

If you can't find paper lanterns, there are many ways to improvise. Decorate colored bags, large paper mache or styrofoam balls, discarded Christmas ornaments or bright coffee cans.

Cost per project: $1.49 for each lantern, plus embellishments. Figure at least $2 to $3 each.

[UPDATE: We used 8 inch lanterns made by a company called Darice. I could not find them online, but managed to find these reasonably priced substitutes in a wide array of colors.]

********
Coming Soon

Some of my local friends may be wondering why I did not post last week's project: "Spiritual Ships." The story will be appearing in the first issue of the new magazine, mater et magistra (formerly Heart and Mind).

The greatest game ever played

was invented by my ten-year-old daughter Margaret tonight.

The children love to run around and play freeze tag (even in the house), but Margaret was bored by the usual endless periods of standing still or attempting to "unfreeze" team mates. She suggested a new rule to break up the monotony:

To get unfrozen, players must do one small job for Mommy.

I could hardly believe my good fortune when I heard this proposal, particularly because I had just been sitting on the couch surveying a rather disorderly room. Each time a player was caught, I would hear an eager, "What can I do for you, Mommy?" It was no trouble finding small jobs: "Please pick up that puzzle piece, and put it away"; "Please return that book to the shelf"; "Throw that scrap of paper in the garbage, please." They couldn't get enough of these little tasks, requesting two if the job was especially small. Even baby Eileen demanded in emphatic baby talk, "What I do, Mama?"

With five players (ages 10 and under), the room was cleared in minutes, but the game was still in full swing with eight-year old Marie chasing and tagging everyone in sight. No problem--we moved the action to the next room. There is never a shortage of things to be put away around here.

My only regret is that I did not think to take before and after shots of the room! It was a painless transformation worth seeing.

How do I love thee? Let me count the eggs

Not long ago, my friend Kari wrote to propose an idea so good that it left me almost beside myself with glee:

"Caroline and I would like to come watch the children on Wednesday while you do/go wherever. Will this work for you????"

Why, yes, as a matter of fact, it did work for me! And the note served as yet another reminder of what a blessing it is to have the world's most beautiful and thoughtful friends. While I was using this found quiet time, Caroline and Kari did more than merely watch the children. Caroline arrived with homemade dough, sauce and cheese to make the most delicious pizzas my homemade-dough-deprived darlings had ever eaten. (By a miracle, Marie, who cannot bear even the thought of pizza, loved Caroline's and asked for the recipe!) Kari brought jars of dye, candles, a ream of butcher paper and specialized tools to make Ukrainian Pysanky eggs. As you can see from the photographs below, the children learned a new skill, dying, waxing, and melting for hours.

If you are interested in learning the art of Pysanky, take a look at these step by step instructions or this online tutorial. I can't explain the steps myself, because while all this was going on, I was off writing a last minute addition to the Haystack!

As you can tell from the infrequency of my posting lately, life has been a whirlwind here for quite some time. This too shall pass, but in the meanwhile, we are beyond grateful for loving local friends always offering to help! [I realize that I can't link to most of them!]

Happy Easter tomorrow everyone!

A Bundle, a Basket, and a Buche de Noel

When my friend, Mary, invited us over for a potluck supper on the Feast of the Epiphany, we did not know it would turn out to be an evening of wonders, with old-fashioned games, a full-scale Christmas pageant, and even a visit from good St. Nicholas himself. My children and four other families had participated in an art exhibit at a local museum, and the gathering was planned as a way to celebrate afterward.

Here is one of the baskets we brought. Don't you love that Book of Kells tea towel? It was brought home for us from Ireland by my friend, Caroline:

We packed it with all the non-perishable ingredients for a Tea to Celebrate the Twelve Days of Christmas and Epiphany [The perishables were toted in a far less photogenic cooler]:

After an afternoon of playing outdoors, the children came in for old-fashioned party games:

My personal favorite was the game of quotes. The children lined up in two teams with words from a famous quote on their backs. The object was to put themselves in the correct order without saying a single word to one another. [First team with the quote in order wins.] Here the girls show the mixed up words to Puck's famous quote, "Lord, what fools these mortals be!":

Next they had a scavenger hunt. All the objects on the list below were hidden in the living and family rooms. As a participant in this particular game, I will tell you they were not easy to find. The items were left in plain view, and the children were asked not to touch anything, so the game did not turn to chaos as it might have otherwise:

With the games completed, my friend Kari brought all the children upstairs to prepare for a beautiful, impromptu Epiphany Pageant, complete with poetry and hyms. They pulled names from a hat to determine roles and came down to perform for the parents.

I was amazed at how quickly they pulled it all together, right down to costumes. Here the parents wait for the performance:

The cast poses after a job well done:

While they were rehearsing, Mary, Caroline, Aleta and I set the table for the Epiphany Tea. You will notice we brought our Christmas pyramid along as a centerpiece. The children loved it, even when one of the candles fell momentarily and started to burn the surrounding wreath:

Here is our hostess Mary's clever take on "Baby Jesus in a Manger" for the Epiphany Tea, homemade gingerbread babes on soft beds of coconut straw:

Kari brought this traditional Buche de Noel:

Aleta made these almond studded jam tarts, a reminder of the host of angels in a starry sky:

[Although I do not have a picture, Caroline brought her famous scones, tiny "pillows" for the Baby Jesus.]

Agnes read her three letters to the Wise Men from last year to the younger children:

Just as we were getting to the last crumb, the doorbell rang. It was late, and we were not expecting anyone, so this was quite strange, but our hostess hastened to open the door:

Lo, and behold, there on the porch was a huge red bag full of presents for each and every one of the children and even the adults:

We did not see who left these welcome gifts, but the children were quite certain dear St. Nicholas had a hand in it:

Maureen was thrilled with her package of small toys and coloring book:

And the baby exclaimed ere she drove out of sight, "Happy Epiphany to all, and to all a good night!"

Our Lady of All Patience

This afternoon, the older four girls and I went to First Saturday confession. I entered the confessional to repeat the same sin I confess month after month after month--"Father, I was impatient with the children." My pastor smiled, telling me (yet again) that he hears this from mothers all the time.

Is it any wonder that today, of all days, I came across this--a Hymn to Our Lady of All Patience (what a title!) written by none other than our beloved St. Louis de Montfort? Here it is, an anthem to Our Blessed Mother suitable for mothers everywhere:

Come to my assistance,
O gentle and divine Mary,
Come to my assistance!
I suffer and groan every day.
Be compassionate to my troubles.
Free me from them, I beg you.
Come to my assistance!

Help me,
You are most merciful,
Help me!
Everything is under your rule.
Give me then some help
Or at least, the gift of patience.
Help me!

Please click here for the next five stanzas of St. Louis' hymn. He really seems to have been suffering when he wrote it, but it is a fine testimony to his faith in Our Lady's love and care.

Christmas Eve, a photoessay

These pictures show the joy of Christmas Eve, although they leave out the visit to my mother after evening Mass. This was the first year since we have been married that she did not come to Mass with us, exchanging presents by our tree afterward. In many ways, this Christmas feels surreal and incomplete, yet, even in sorrow, there is great rejoicing--a time to laugh, a time to weep.

Daddy snapped this photo, although it would have been so much nicer if he had been in it. I love the way the little ones are tending to their crying Eileen. As you can see, I remain true to form, looking like a combination of Olive Oyl and Ruth Buzzi:

Usually, our tree is up about a week before Christmas, but this year we were putting ornaments on minutes before leaving for church:

After Mass, it was Marie's turn to put the Baby Jesus in our outdoor nativity:

We did not manage a "path lighted by candles," but our candlelight procession cast a warm glow on the cold winter's night:

The flames needed to be protected from winter wind while we sang carols:

And Marie tripped in the tangles beneath her feet, yet was none the worse for wear:

Warming up indoors, Daddy lit a fire and we exchanged our annual Kris Kringle gifts. Marie, my Kris Kringle this year, presented me with this lovely ornament:

And a picture worth treasuring:

Here is the newest tradition at our house--the Christmas Pyramid--a wonder of engineering given to me this year by Daddy and the children. It runs on the heat of three candles:

If you would like to see our new pyramid in operation, please click here: Christmas 2007. The children, right down to three year old Maureen, do a heartfelt and unrehearsed rendition of Away in a Manger. (They all think it sounds horrible, but I still love it, even with the little ones singing off key!)

Eileen's expression perfectly captures the warmth and joy we wish you this Christmas and always!

Glory to God in the highest!

Eyes open

The house is not at all neat, so much so I have already announced to the children my resolve not to let the clutter get me cranky. I am going to turn a blind eye to it, remembering that a day will come when we will miss this evidence of fast-paced family life.

The tree is not up, and the large Nativity scene is not alight outside our window. Our Christmas cards are not yet mailed, and an alarming number of my gifts have not been purchased. Maureen and Eileen still need black shoes for Christmas Eve, and I have decided the Christmas village does not need to make an appearance this year.

A couple of days ago, I asked myself why things were so scattered this year. Why is the house so difficult to maintain and all the usual Christmas preparations so far behind? Of course, I realized the answer almost instantly, ashamed to have even asked the question. Needless to say, it is because my mother is not here! How often must she have tidied up without me even noticing--and I thought things were under control because we were all so neat. How many errands did I run leaving her home reading books to the little ones--and I thought things were getting done because I was such a good planner. How many times did she show up with stamps and drop off a bundle of mail for me on her way home--and I thought my cards were out on time because our family had thought ahead!

Now this post may sound like a pre-Christmas downer, but it is not at all meant to be. I make these observations with a grateful heart and unblemished smile, laughing to realize that, grown woman though I may be, I still had a bit of childish obliviousness toward all my mother was doing around here. She would say it was nothing, but the absence of nothing would not be so keenly felt, would it?

So thank you Mom, for four decades of dedication second to none. I hope I can do half as much for my seven children as you've done for me!

Scenes from the Feast of St. Nicholas 2007

Last year, we shared pictures of a day spent at a friend's house crafting and baking for the Feast of St. Nicholas. We continued the tradition this year with many of the same activities, but a few new twists as well.

There were cookies to cut:

Mexican God's Eye Ornaments (the perfect simple and inexpensive craft to make in advance of the Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe):

We brought our traditional sled full of cookies:

And taught the children how to make these easy Take Along Mangers in Miniature reminiscent of last year's craft. (For details and materials, please see today's post at O Night Divine):

This little project was engaging for the older ones, but simple enough for a three-year-old:

And speaking of simple, my friend Mary taught the children to make these religious ornaments--cardboard discs embellished with holy images and trim:

Look how the baby has grown! It made me laugh to realize she is wearing the same outfit, only now she has grown into Maureen's dress from last year!

St. Nicholas, patron of children, pray for us!

Candy Cottage for Our Lady

Last year, we began a new tradition in our home--putting up a gingerbread house on the Feast of Our Lady of Loreto, a date so closely associated with Our Lady's prayerful and holy home.

Hoping to continue the tradition simply and manageably this year, I purchased a Wilton Cottage Cake Pan a few weeks ago. It reminded me of the Holy House of Loreto as depicted on holy cards and in this coat of arms:

[Loreto Coat of Arms courtesy of International Civic Arms.]

We began with plain yellow cake mix, ready-made frosting, pink and purple sugars, gumdrops, gummi bears, mini-marshmallows, and colored wafers:

Once the cake was baked, it was a snap to frost in white. Theresa gave the cake a crumb coat, and Margaret and Marie to applied the candy embellishments. This they managed skillfully [I was making dinner and let them at it on their own] in spite of the help offered by Patrick, Maureen, and Eileen.

Margaret was particularly proud of her own innovation--a chimney made of mini marshmallows:

Here is the work in progress--Marie's snowman stands to the left:

It was my bright idea to put the cake on a pedestal cake pan to keep out of the way during dinner. We left it in the dining room on the piano out of reach of the little ones.

Midway through dinner, disaster struck!

We heard a sickening thud and raced in to find our candy cottage face up on the floor:

Margaret's chimney was no more:

And look at our poor piano! [This photo was taken after we cleaned the keys.]

Disappointed, but undaunted, Margaret set about a reconstruction. The fact that we already had a picture of the cake in its original glory was a comfort to her. We talked about the Holy House in Loreto and how angels carried it from the Holy Land to Italy to prevent its desecration. Our Candy House had moved unexpectedly too! We like to think the angels helped it land face up, even though it fell face forward. : )

Every year, I save particularly beautiful Christmas cards, knowing we may eventually find a good use for them, and this image of the Blessed Mother in red was just the thing for our pretty house. I left a bit of the card edge at the bottom to stick into the icing, creating a vibrant "Loreto" cake topper:

A group of cherubs hold up the base, reminding us of the many holy card images we have seen of Our Lady of Loreto:

At the end of the day, the children gathered round, of all things, the laptop computer. We made the Consecration to Our Lady of Loreto from the wonderful Minnesota Mom. Having just prepared for the Total Consecration on December 8th, this was especially meaningful.

Before bed, I blessed the children with Loreto Oil from the Holy House, sent by my dear friend Anne for my mother. What a blessing it is to have such good and thoughtful friends!

Our Lady of Loreto, pray for us! Bless our homes and our families, and make us more like you!

Noticing the Ideal

I was sitting comfortably with the baby on my lap when Marie came in with an announcement: "Maureen and I are having a puppet show upstairs, and it is about to begin! Come see it, Mom!"

Now, when it comes to our children's shows and skits, there is a tri-fold law that must never be broken:

1. The stage needs to be set in the farthest reaches of the house, usually up or down a flight of stairs;

2. The show must begin precisely when I least feel like walking up or down the flight of stairs; and [this next point is crucial]

3. The proceedings cannot take place without Mommy in attendance, sitting front and center.

I tried buying myself a bit of time, saying "later, honey" and "in a few minutes" and "don't you two need more time to rehearse?" But Marie won me over with persistence, begging, and, as a last resort, that certain pouty look she has managed to retain from babyhood.

Little Eileen was weighing heavily on my hip as I started the slow ascent up the stairs. The effort was already beginning to pay off though--I laughed outright to find the staircase lined with homely signs scrawled in pen: "Puppet Show this way [arrow pointing up]"; "Maureen and Marie's Puppet Show"; "We hope you injoy the show!" Marie had managed to assemble all the children for an audience--even the busy older girls.

The curtain rose to reveal a china doll and stuffed lamb. From behind a chair, Maureen's thin voice rose, "Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb." It was simple and sweet . . . but extremely beautiful in its ordinary way, particularly because it was taking place in an uncluttered, painted corner of the house. I leaned over and whispered to Theresa, sending her off to retrieve my camera. She returned a moment or so later, and I snapped the photos below.

On occasion, I have heard it said that blogs do not present a complete picture of the homes they represent. We see all beauty and perfection, without the blemishes. Some would even say that these worlds of domestic tranquility are created for the camera and do not truly exist apart from the blogs. Still, I believe that this beauty does exist, and it may be found in every home.

This side of Heaven, there is no perfection, and all families are, in different ways, "mourning and weeping in this valley of tears." Yet, even in the dark valley, we are called to "wait in joyful hope." God trains His sunshine upon us, showing forth His goodness always. Just as in every home there are sorrows, there is also an Ideal waiting to be noticed.

The Ideal presents itself in any number of ways throughout each day and need not be created or staged. We find it jumping for joy as Daddy drags the Christmas lights up from the basement; we see it waiting for us with a picture book and hopeful expression; we hear its muffled shouts of fun through the glass of our back windows; and we feel its limp, dozing warmth by the armload on our laps.

When I am on vacation and see a worthwhile sight, I reach for my camera. So it is at home (the most worthwhile place of all). Marie and Maureen's performance is now in my heart's history book, and I will look at it when I am gray(er) and smile again. Indeed, it was not the only thing that happened that day--I'm sure I scaled a mountain of dishes and probably fretted over clothes and toys on the floor. That is all right and well worth it. The returning miner exclaims and rejoices over the diamonds, leaving the crags and rocks behind.

Any home where breathes a child contains more joy, contentment and beauty than the most well-crafted picture book or extensive magazine spread. And even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.

*******

Scenes from a puppet show, performed with neither stage nor puppet

The curtain is down:

Baby Eileen makes her way backstage:

And is promptly kicked out:

Cheerful programs:

Brother Patrick, program in hand, waits for the show to begin:

Maureen narrates:

"There once was a little sister. They loved her very much . . . . ":

Marie feeds Maureen her lines:

The cast assembles for a curtain call:

Related Cottage Blessings post from last year

California Mission in Miniature

Last week, we made miniature Wayside Shrines similar to the ones I loved in Ireland as a little girl. After our summer in San Francisco, there is no doubt the California Missions made a similar impression on my children. We were blessed to visit four of them during our stay--Mission San Rafael, Mission Dolores (San Francisco de Assis), Mission San Luis Obispo, and Mission Carmel, the burial place of Blessed Junipero Serra.

With the Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe right around the corner, this seemed a good time to create our own miniature mission shrine, using elements inspired by the four beautiful missions we remember so well. We began with a double sided wooden frame from the craft store. The tiled roof made us think of the missions:

The photo of Mission Carmel below gives a glimpse of the terracotta tiles so common in mission churches:

Eight-year-old Marie enjoyed painting the tiles of our "mission":

Mission San Rafael is creamy beige with crosses on top and two topiaries gracing the front:

The first side of our shrine, representing the outside of the missions, has a similar look:

Monuments to Father Junipero Serra, here shown in the garden at Carmel, may be found all over California:

If you look closely at the side of the church in Carmel, you will notice graves adorned with sea shells:

A holy card image of Blessed Serra, along with a small seashell, complete the first side:

For the interior, we drew inspiration from the freestyle flower borders of Mission San Luis Obispo:

We all loved the way this simple border echoed the ones we remember:

This wall of statues from Mission Dolores in San Francisco is typical of the missions--there are always many statues and images to inspire:

We adorned our mission "interior" using saints' images from a broken bracelet and a holy card of Our Lady of Guadalupe:

After the summer we had, it seems appropriate to have this reminder of the California Missions displayed prominently on our Advent table. It will also make a double-sided centerpiece for our Guadalupe Tea next week.

Blessed Junipero Serra, pray for us!

Our Lady of Guadalupe, pray for us!

A Step Back in Time

The Roman city of Pompeii, suddenly decimated by the wrath of Mount Vesuvius, is, as you know, a perfectly preserved example of an Ancient Roman town. There to this day you will find uncracked eggs gathered in a bowl, a leashed dog curled in endless sleep, pots and pans left set to boil upon the fire--the precise and permanent picture of life as it was at a distinct moment in time.

This was exactly the way we found things here at home upon our return from San Francisco.

The truth is that I had done no preparation for our three month trip, hurling some clothes in a box to be shipped to our destination one or two days before leaving New York and that's about it. Upon our return, I was amazed to find the house exactly as we had left it, the perfect time capsule of our life back in May. A script from A Midsummer Night's Dream sat splayed on its spine; a Scrabble game in progress awaited a next move on the coffee table; a pitcher of pink peonies drooped forlornly on the mantle, the centerpiece from our almost forgotten Rhododendron Tea.

The Mary Garden outside, long neglected and left to nature, reminded me of Sleeping Beauty's Castle, the green things embracing Our Lady so that we could hardly find her. Full grown melons we had never planted huddled beneath the hostas, their vines and yellow blooms crocheted in a chain stitch throughout the unruly bed. Tomatoes sprang up mysteriously, the evidence of a child's afternoon snack all those months ago.

It was only yesterday--believe it or not--that I entered the learning room in the cottage for the first time, surprised to find scrap paper, books, blocks--all left in their places since May. I reached for a garbage bag, tossing the useless papers indiscriminately, when my eye fell upon a bright yellow sheet covered in numbers. It was Agnes' scrap paper from last year's foray into Algebra. Words were written on one side that made me laugh out loud--the "doodling" of a student whose mind was evidently more on Shakespeare and A Midsummer Night's Dream (not to mention escape!) than anything else.

Here is her simple [she's only changed a few words from the original], yet amusing, parody of Nick Bottom's speech to the "Wall" from Pyramus and Thisbe, the play within a play:

O grim-look'd math! O math with print so black!
O math, which ever art when play is not!
O math, O math! alack, alack, alack,
I fear my mother's promise is forgot!
And thou, O door, O sweet, O lovely door,
That stand'st between the smaller house and mine!
Thou door, O door, O sweet and lovely door,
Show me thy pane, to blink through with mine eyne!

Thanks, courteous door:
Jove shield thee well for this!
But what see I?
No recess do I see.
O wicked door, through whom I see no bliss!
Cursed be thy wood for thus deceiving me!

*******

I must admit to enjoying this visit to our lives as they were in May.

Still, I think it may be time for a bit of spring cleaning to bring us back into the present!

[This is the 500th Cottage Blessings post.]

In which we are invited to Tea and step inside the pages of Victoria Magazine

The same day I wrote the post asking the immortal question, "Does the Gunther Family ever stop taking tea?" I received an email from my gracious friend, Gloria, entitled, "Invitation to Tea":

"Could you come to tea at my house on Wednesday? We could do a high tea with sandwiches and scones with lemon curd etc. The girls love having tea parties."

Needless to say, I fired back an immediate response:

"We will come with great joy on Wednesday! Thank you for the invitation to your beautiful home!"

An automatic link to my blog appeared at the end of the message, and Gloria followed it, finding Cottage Blessings for *the first time.* When she read all those posts about the charms of Tea in San Francisco, she laughed out loud, knowing she had invited the right family!

My dear friends, feast your eyes on the spread Gloria provided for us. Its perfect elegance and beauty cannot be captured on film, because you cannot see the well-tended gardens surrounding the house with every sort of blooming or edible growing thing imaginable (all thriving as vibrantly as a Beatrix Potter watercolor) or the detailed architectural elements both inside an out, reminding me of why San Francisco is so famous for this. You cannot see Gloria's dear children showing me their artwork and telling stories, combing and ribboning Maureen's blonde head, or teaching their guests the Virginia Reel! These things are tucked away in my memory, but I know you can imagine them.

I will attempt to relay the menu, hoping not to forget a single delectable bite:

Vanilla Milk Tea
Earl Grey Tea
Cucumber Tea Sandwiches sprigged with mint
Chicken Salad Tea Sandwiches
Date Tea Sandwiches
Peanut Butter and Jelly Triangles (for the very little ones)
Homemade Lemon Scones
Homemade Nutmeg Scones
Homemade Clotted Cream
Homemade Lemon Curd
Red Jam
Assorted Cookies
Miniature Brownies

All of this was served on fine china and an heirloom tablecloth with the strains of Bach and Pachelbel filling our ears.

Gloria thought of everything, and what Victorian Tea would be complete without a charming table for the littler girls?

In the Little Girl World, if you are a friend, you must be picked up. Maureen has found favor with the Princess.

Agnes found a copy of Maria von Trapp's "The Story of the von Trapp Family Singers" on a shelf. Not only did Gloria let her borrow it, she also sang a duet of "The Sound of Music" with Agnes, much to our great delight. Gloria is a Conservatory graduate, and her voice is ethereal!

The only difficulty was peeling my children out at the end--this was not easy, let me tell you. Tea Time in San Francisco keeps getting better and better!

*******
BTW, Gloria is a dear friend of Chari Bryans, not to mention Maria Peceli, Willa Ryan and Erica Sanchez--there is quite a wonderful group of mothers here in the Golden State of California.

Gables, Steeples, and Other Points

Well, I promised a point to those early posts about our grand lodgings here in San Francisco, and it seems my day of reckoning is at hand. The trouble with beating around the bush for a month is that sometimes, in the business of living, you realize your original impression and intended "point" were not precisely right. You find that maybe you should have taken some time before drawing (and worse, promising) a conclusion.

So here is where I finally get to my original point before admitting new facts in complete opposition to it--then swiftly reconcile the two, so that I appear to have been right all along. (Ah, that law school training finally comes in handy.)

When we first arrived, you will recall, we were impressed and even overwhelmed by the
beauty of this place. Yet, quite honestly, it left me uneasy and wound up—the way I might feel wheeling a triple stroller though a narrow-aisled crystal factory. Our son Patrick hated the place right off the bat. Victorian gables and elaborate furnishings suggest haunted houses to little boys, and he would not so much as walk from one room to the next by himself for a full month.

The girls, although enamored at first, did not really fare much better. Only Agnes continued to love her surroundings without complaint (primarily because of a volume of Shakespeare eight inches thick to keep her occupied). It was clear the other girls felt stifled, as if they could not play or do anything lest something should break. Television viewing and bickering were embraced as cherished hobbies, and I began wondering if we had not entered the region of California known as “Whine Country.”

After a few days of beating up against the bars of her gilded cage, Theresa seemed to speak for one and all by exclaiming, with no small measure of disgust, “I feel as if this is a Stuck Up House.”

Now according to thirteen-year-old Agnes, there are two subjects Mommy is obsessed with and raises whenever possible—the importance of choosing a good husband (if they are one day called to married life) and the perfection of small houses. My speeches on husband selection usually take the form of pointing out potential “red flags” to keep in mind for the future, red flags being things like nose piercings, pink hair, unnerving tattoos, smoking, excessive drinking, sullenness, dishonesty, tax evasion, bad manners, a criminal record, boorishness, reckless driving, reluctance to hold doors, soup slurping, and a seemingly bottomless list of other quirks and foibles I do not wish to see in a son-in-law.

My speeches on small houses, on the other hand, are designed to help my girls become content and joyful in any surroundings. Hopefully (so my theory goes), if the children see small spaces and cottages as the ultimate in beauty and coziness, they will avoid a lifetime of yearning, covetousness, disillusion, debt, and discontent. The moment the girls grumbled about our stately manor house here in San Francisco, I felt validated. “You see?” I remarked smugly sagely, “It is just as I have always told you. Big houses do not lead to happiness! Remember this when you grow up!”

This was the point I was planning to reach in those first few posts, and I probably would have attempted to make it more delicately were it not for everyone’s complete and utter change of heart.

Once again, Theresa acted as the mouthpiece for one and all. As we sat talking about our love for San Francisco, hoping to return one day to this ethereal City by the Bay, the coiner of the term “Stuck Up House” declared (and adamantly, I might add), “If we do come back, I hope we can stay here again. San Francisco just wouldn’t be the same without this house.”

So you see my dilemma? I was trying to come to a point based on my daughter’s feelings over a month ago, and experience appeared to have taught her the complete opposite. Moreover, she had uttered my own unspoken thoughts as well. I would be lying if I did not admit to loving every inch of this place, each tasseled curtain and soaring ceiling, the front stairs, the back stairs, and all five glorious mantels. Even the reluctant Patrick has his favorite nooks and corners, perfect for pitching sheet tents or establishing imaginary zoos in which he is the naturalist in charge of all exhibits.

Mulling things over afterward, I realized what had happened, relieved to find the “point,” though off shivering in a silken-tasseled corner, still remarkably intact. No house could make us happy--WE had made the house happy! We did not love this place because it was opulent. We loved it because we had begun to fill it with family history and memory. It was no longer a looming, antiseptic, untouchable museum, but a living, breathing bower of light and life. It would forever be the fairgrounds for Margaret’s nightly “baby romps” and theatre for Agnes’ loving readings of Romeo and Juliet. It would form the backdrop in our minds for Maureen’s historic penny swallowing, Eileen’s first birthday and her triumphant maiden voyage up a full flight of stairs. In six weeks time, we had inflated this house with our laughter, sprinkled her with tears, affronted her through tiffs and tantrums, and impressed her with our lofty thoughts. We prayed many a Rosary wrapped in her embrace and transformed her trim gilded gables into steeples for the Domestic Church.

It is the family that finds its own measure of contentment, joy, and sorrow wherever it may be, and I hope the children will come away remembering this new adage: “Be it ever so humble--or extravagant--there’s no place like home."

A Bouquet of Days

Realizing our destruction theme may be growing a bit tiresome, it seems high time for a splash of color. Drawing an idea from the always lovely Kim of Starry Sky Ranch, here is our nod to blooming Pink!

Pink Petals: