Cottage Blessings

What the Scrabble Board sees

(Photo and caption credit, Marie.)

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.

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!"

Raggedy Ann and Andy in Wine Country

You didn't think we would leave them in New York, did you? : ) : ) : )

Something sweet to enjoy with tea

Behold: The perfect doll-sized tea set for the merry month of May! My daughters--and Raggedy Ann--were very pleased with this find!

December 7, 2007. Updated: Please see the comments--Martha discovered this set now comes with a frightening warning label.

Water, Daughter, Water . . .

God, in His infinite goodness, saw to it that it does not take much to entertain a toddler.

Maureen and I had a blast playing a ridiculous game this afternoon. I made it up on the spur of the moment in an attempt to be silly, but she just loved it. Mom does all the talking for this one.

Me [who happened to be holding a bottle of water]: "This is my nice little baby water."

[Turning to pat Maureen]: "This is my nice little baby daughter."

[Ttouching water again]: "Water!"

[Patting Maureen affectionately]: "Daughter!"

"Water!"

"Daughter!"

"Water!"

"Daughter!"

"Water!"

[Throwing both arms around Maureen suddenly]: "Caught her!!!!"

The "caught her" brought screams and squeals of the deepest laughter, not to mention a crowd of amused young onlookers. So enthusiastic was Maureen that she pressed me to repeat this game at least a dozen times. Even seven year old Marie begged for a turn (and received several)! Needless to say, the rhyme needed to be tweaked quite a bit for Patrick.

For a far more dramatic look at a real life game of "Water, Daughter," please pay a visit to the Cottage Garden. But be warned--you will need your rubbers.

Sowing a Seed

"Joshua and the battle of Jericho, Jericho, Jericho! Joshua and the battle of Jericho! And the walls came tumbling down!"

I can still see the scene in my mind's eye: the cafeteria of St. Mary's School, surreal to me at night, with an assortment of neighborhood children pressing round a fortress of cardboard milk cartons. The gang of us are singing at the top of our lungs, before bolting forward with a whoop to topple the flimsy firmament at just the right moment. This simple, boisterous game was all part of "Family Night," an event promoted in those days by a young priest named Father Daily and filed away forever in my treasure chest of joyful childhood memories. I am not sure what I knew about Joshua or Jericho at the time, yet the fun and wild abandon of the game remains with me still.

Then there was Lent at St. Mary's Church and the 7:30 evening Mass in its dimly lit basement. My mother and our neighbor, Mrs. Maloney, would rarely miss it. Anne Maloney and I could not wait to pile into the car for the novel nightly outing, or better yet walk under the train trestle with its flourescent lights and cooing pigeons, pretty sure of a soda at Alexander's afterward, and, if we were very lucky, a piece of creamy white chocolate to split between us. How I loved those Masses with Anne at my side and holy Father Callahan on the altar. The memory of them brings a pleasing mist to my eyes even now.

Looking back on my early "spiritual" experiences, I see now that, although they were in some ways less than ethereal, those blessed moments are cloaked in a mantle of simple childish gladness and mirth. To this day, I love the Mass and the Church and the Holy Bible and our parish priests, and, it seems to me, the seeds of Faith and love and loyalty were sown deep, sown in the ready heart of a child and fed and fertilized with soda and smiles, war whoops and white chocolate.

In passing on the Faith to our children, it is a great hope of mine that we will allow them to form many happy associations like these. Armed with a childhood of fond religious memories, they surely will fare far better against the world's onslaught than those tottery milk cartons in the cafeteria. With this in mind, we have begun a new tradition in our home--First Saturday Outings.

The idea was born over hot chocolates in Starbuck's back in December. I had taken the four older girls and my favorite slingrider to do a little window shopping while dh watched Patrick and Maureen. The night was pleasingly temperate, and our spirits were so high that it made me wonder why we rarely go out together in the evening. It happened to be First Saturday, and I considered what fun it would be make a special trip every First Saturday night. The girls were at once taken with the idea and talked about the first Saturday of January for a full month. Even the wonders of Christmas and New Year's could not dilute their eager anticipation.

First Saturday morning, the children awoke already talking about Mass and Confession and the special trip planned for afterward. This month, our outing consisted of omelettes at a local diner with a walk through Border's Bookstore afterward. Dh and I decided to spring for a round of hot cocoa at the cafe, but, much to everyone's dismay, they were all out of (gasp) cocoa powder. Fortuitously, the girl behind the counter offered white chocolate as a substitute, and, you will be glad to learn, the pale variety was accepted by today's young Catholics as readily as it was by Anne Maloney and Alice O'Brien those many years ago.

We arrived home late and began the usual bustle of toothbrushing, pajama hunting, and laundry rounding ("It's like herding cats," quipped dh.) The little three were asleep in an instant, when I remembered we had not yet said a Rosary or meditated an extra fifteen minutes on the Mysteries for First Saturday. The four girls were only too happy to stay up a while longer for a cozy, quiet Rosary, and I was just about to remind them of the quarter hour's meditation, when an idea struck me.

"Get on your coats, girls."

Eight eyes opened wide, and even dh uttered a disbelieving, "Did you say 'coats'?"

Within two minutes, we were outside under the stars--barely chilly with the springlike weather we have been having--and singing around our outdoor creche. Everything but the creche was pitch black, and the children's voices rose sweetly in the thin night air. Hymn after hymn of their own choosing: "Lo, How a Rose E're Blooming," "Adeste Fideles," "Hark the Herald Angels Sing," "Do You Know What I Know?" "Away in a Manger"--they formed the merriest little quartet of carolers you ever heard, inventing harmonies and smiling toward the stable. I listened silently, my heart swelling with hope that these blessed hymns might be their "Joshua and the Battle of Jericho," with each heartfelt note girding them for adulthood.

As we walked back to the house, I found more than one young hand had made its way into mine, and a couple of the girls walked ahead arm in arm. Margaret turned to me with a face as bright as the moon above our heads and proclaimed, "This was such a fun day!"

More music to my ears.

Playing with Picture Books

With discussions of Boyhood and Girlhood picture book favorites humming along at the "4Real" message board, I found myself searching through my computer's saved documents for lists of great books compiled when the older ones were small. In my hunt, I inadvertently stumbled across this outline of planned literary activities meant to be shared with Lissa and her daughter back in the blessed days when they lived nearby:

Favorite Picture Books

1. A Time to Keep: The Tasha Tudor Book of Holidays

Let’s try to recreate some of the memories shared by Tasha Tudor. This could be done throughout the year beginning in January. There are so many beautiful ideas in this book.

2. Little Oh by Laura Krauss Melmed and Jim LaMarche

We could make origami animals and a paper “Little Oh” clothed in beautiful Japanese paper (we already have this). If our husbands can watch the little ones, we can take the older girls for an authentic meal at a Japanese restaurant.

3. The Rainbabies by Laura Krauss Melmed and Jim LaMarche

We could play “Rainbabies” with the girls. Maybe Agnes and Theresa could surprise Jane by leaving rainbabies in the garden for her. I am sure they would get a big kick out of this.

4. The Big Green Pocketbook by Candice Ransom and Felicia Bond

This book is for very young children, but it is so much fun that I could not leave it out. We could make big green pocketbooks out of felt (no sew) and take them for a “Big Green Pocketbook Day.” In the story, a girl and her mother spend the day running errands. They take a bus into town and the girl fills her pocketbook with little items she gets in each store. If we want to be very adventurous, one of us could take the older girls on a bus while the other follows behind in a car with the babies.

5. One Morning in Maine by Robert McCloskey

Let’s see if we can take the girls for a real motorboat ride. It would also be a lot of fun to go clam digging and try the clam chowder at a seafood restaurant.

6. Jumanji by Chris Van Allsburg

Using the narrative of the book, we could help the girls to create a “Jumanji” game board and then let them play.

7. Mudpies and Other Recipes: A Cookbook for Dolls by Marjorie Winslow

Lets have a dolls’ tea party and allow the girls to cater it. They can send invitations, plan their own menu, and, of course, prepare the delicacies. Most of the ingredients can be found in my backyard (pine needles, leaves, mud etc.), but some will have to be gathered in advance (seashells, sand, pencil shavings).

8. Helen’s Special Picture by Davide Previtali

This is a beautiful book about the life of Sister Faustina. I am sure that we can think of many activities to go along with it. It might be a good time to teach the girls about the canonization process. We can make and decorate “Jesus, I trust in you” pictures (or stained glass) for the girls’ rooms. Sister Faustina could easily be made into a clothespin doll as well.

9. If Jesus Came to My House by Joan G. Thomas

The first time I read this book, it brought tears to my eyes. A boy talks about how he would welcome Jesus if Jesus really came to visit him. He then realizes that he can welcome Jesus by being kind to others. At first, I thought it might be a good idea to have the girls take turns welcoming each other to their homes and treating each other as they would treat Jesus if he came to visit them. Then I realized that they are always so good to each other that this would be nothing new! Instead, I think we should let them have a special day for the little ones. They could think of activities and games that would be fun for Margaret and Rose and let them play with their favorite toys. They will all have a great time.

We could also find some ways the girls can help others. You already visit an elderly woman. Maybe we could make something special for her. We could try to get the girls to choose some toys and books to give to charity (as the boy does in the book). This would also be great time to emphasize the true presence of Jesus in the Eucharist.

10. The Paper Princess by Elisa Kleven

This book is so much fun. Agnes and Theresa have already made princesses complete with clothing and accessories, but I am sure they would not mind doing this again. This is a good book to read in conjunction with “Little Oh” because the two books can be compared and contrasted.

Needless to say, these ideas are still in the “drawing board” stage. Even the books themselves were hastily selected (although they are all great). I cannot wait to see your selections.

******

The funny thing is that we actually pulled off quite a bit of this! Ah, those were the days!

Living Poetry--The Northwest Passage

We have always enjoyed Robert Lewis Stevenson's A Child's Garden of Verses, but years ago, I realized my young ones were listening to "The Northwest Passage" without half grasping its meaning. With evenings illuminated by electric lamps and a house warmed by central heat, my modern girls could not begin to imagine the eerie experience a simple trip up the stairs might have been for children of another age.

One twilight, we read the poem and waited expectantly--not switching on a single light--as darkness descended upon the house. Suddenly, "the sunless hours," barely noticed in the past, took on a measure of significance for them. The girls huddled close to me as the last rays of dusk died down and tittered with excitement as I lit one small candle. Shadows danced and glinted on the walls, and the windows mirrored back the lonesome light. We all stood up to look around, and for the first time noticed "our pictures painted as we pass, like pictures, on the window glass."

Moments later, I announced that it was time to walk upstairs to their room. Knowing it would enhance the experience for the others, seven-year-old Agnes pointedly objected to the notion of ascending the gloomy staircase with only the feeble candle to light our way. Her younger sisters cried out excitedly, "That's just how the child in the poem felt!" Holding hands and following the flickering candle, it was easy to see what Stevenson meant when he wrote that the jet-black night, "crawls in the corners, hiding from the light" and "moves with the moving flame." With each new step, we could plainly see, "the shadow of the balusters, the shadow of the lamp, the shadow of the child that goes to bed--all the wicked shadows coming, tramp, tramp, tramp, with the black night overhead."

Reaching the top landing, the girls could just make out the door to their room at the far end of the hall. Light escaped through the crack near the floor, and the intrepid older two could not resist running ahead to fling it open. To their surprise, I had left all the lights in that one room burning, so they would "come from out the cold and gloom into [their] warm and cheerful room" where they found a tray of milk and cookies waiting on the craft table.

Simple as it was, "The Northwest Passage" instantly rose in the ranks to one of their all-time favorite poems. Twelve year old Agnes passed by earlier as I typed the text of the poem for this post and beamed, "Remember the time we climbed the stairs with the candle?"

Indeed I do--and I am delighted that she does too!

*******
The Northwest Passage

I. Good Night

WHEN the bright lamp is carried in,
The sunless hours again begin;
O’er all without, in field and lane,
The haunted night returns again.

Now we behold the embers flee
About the firelit hearth; and see
Our pictures painted as we pass,
Like pictures, on the window-glass.

Must we to bed indeed? Well, then,
Let us arise and go like men,
And face with an undaunted tread
The long black passage up to bed.

Farewell, O brother, sister, sire!
O pleasant party round the fire!
The songs you sing, the tales you tell,
Till far to-morrow, fare ye well!

II. Shadow March

ALL round the house is the jet-black night;
It stares through the window-pane;
It crawls in the corners, hiding from the light,
And it moves with the moving flame.

Now my little heart goes a-beating like a drum,
With the breath of Bogie in my hair,
And all round the candle the crooked shadows come,
And go marching along up the stair.

The shadow of the balusters, the shadow of the lamp,
The shadow of the child that goes to bed—
All the wicked shadows coming, tramp, tramp, tramp,
With the black night overhead.

II. In Port

LAST, to the chamber where I lie
My fearful footsteps patter nigh,
And come from out the cold and gloom
Into my warm and cheerful room.

There, safe arrived, we turn about
To keep the coming shadows out,
And close the happy door at last
On all the perils that we past.

Then, when mamma goes by to bed,
She shall come in with tip-toe tread,
And see me lying warm and fast
And in the Land of Nod at last.

(From "A Child's Garden of Verses" by Robert Louis Stevenson)

Make New Friends, But Keep the Old

We spent the past day or two calling on old friends we had not seen since August--John, Susan, Titty, Roger, Nancy, Peggy, Dorothea, and Dick--beloved characters from the memorable Arthur Ransome series, Swallows and Amazons. In "Winter Holiday," the fourth book in the series, our favorite pirates and explorers skate, trudge through the ice-covered arctic, erect an igloo, dwell in a desolate houseboat, and streak across a frozen lake under sail, all the while never missing a single teatime.

We have read Swallows and Amazons many times and listened to the entire series on tape this past Summer. Needless to say,"Winter Holiday" is an entertaining read any time of year, but back in July we vowed to revisit the story during the colder months. Two nights ago, with no prior introduction, I settled the kids down to begin an unnamed read aloud. There were a few murmurs from the ranks, with curious children wondering why I was being so mysterious. I cleared my throat and began the first sentence: "Steps sounded on the wooden stairs, and counting, 'Seven and eight and nine and ten and eleven and twelve and that's the dozen.'" Instantly, a cheer of elation and acknowledgement went up--it was as if I announced a pending trip to a favorite ski lodge.

With younger children, we always read and re-read favorite picture books numberless times. As every mother will attest, for pre-schoolers, the hundredth read is as gratifying as the first--more so even. They thrive on the familiar and delight in the anticipation of a favorite line or illustration waiting right round the next bend. It occurs to me now that we have begun to re-visit many of our old favorite novels, this delight in the familiar does not impede with age. Agnes, Theresa, Margaret, Marie, and, in his own way, even Patrick, were as excited to begin Winter Holiday as Maureen is when I pick up "Fox in Socks." At one or two points, Agnes precipitated choice lines from the book just as I reached them. "The Arctic might be in a poor way for ice," I would lead off, and she would whisper, as if on cue, "but inside the igloo, with the lantern and the fire, what did it matter whether the world outside was as they left it or fathoms deep in snow?" It reminded me of the days when she completed each line in "Madeline's Christmas" as an eighteen-month-old toddler. That easy friendship with books has never faded for her or the others, but only flourished and flowered with time.

Years ago, when the girls were first old enough to read something more advanced than picture books, I remember poring over booklists of "must read" novels. In my mind, there was a checklist of these must-reads, and I wanted the girls to experience every last one of them. Undeniably, there is great value in discovering new books and personalities to love, but we are careful not to neglect our first friends. Year after year, we drop in on Ebeneezer Scrooge, Laura Ingalls, Martha Morse, Matthias and Cornflower, Bilbo Baggins, Basil Stag Hare, Charlotte Tucker, Anne Shirley, Matthew and Marilla Cuthbert, the Pevensies, Mary Lennox, the Bastables, Heidi and others. These characters have a life of their own to us, and our bond with them is deepened with each fresh read.