12 Days of Christmas Giveaway

Chances are if you are American, English, or Australian (as well as French or Scottish, from what I read), you've probably heard the song the 12 Days of Christmas.  The song seems to have appeared in English (it's probably French in origin) in the second half of the 18th century.  It celebrates an old tradition of giving gifts after Christmas Day, for 12 days, ending with the Feast of the Epiphany, which is on January 6th.  Epiphany, if you're wondering, is the day when the Christian Church celebrates the arrival of the Magi (Wise Men) at the home where Mary, Joseph, and the Christ Child were staying.

Until the 19th century - I think - the tradition of giving gifts during the 12 Days of Christmas, or even just on the Epiphany, was pretty strong.  Why and how we made the switch to just Christmas Day, I'm not entirely sure.  I'm not a holiday historian.  But that being said, you all know how I like traditions, so here we go with a 12 (or not quite) Days of Christmas Giveaway!

Here are the different lots.  There are four.  Please sign up for whatever lots you would like to be entered to win by number in the comments.  Also make sure there is a way to contact you.  And for heaven sakes, if you like them all, please sign up for them all!  No need to feel greedy!  These silly little gifts are just little treats I would like to give to you.  If you put a link to the giveaway on your own blog, I'll enter you for your favorite lots twice!   Just let me know that you're doing this either in the comments or via e-mail (v r marvin at sbcglobal dot net.)  You can sign up until midnight, January 6th, American Eastern Standard Time.  I'll announce the winners the day after.

Lot 1 - Kitchen Goodies - Includes 2 nine inch quilt block potholders and three hand knit dishcloths.

Lot 2 - Snowflakes - Includes four small (about 3 inches wide and smaller) crocheted snowflakes, perfect for a little post holiday but still winter decorating.

Lot 3 - Dishcloths - A half dozen hand knit dishcloths, all slightly different in design.

Lot 4 - White Snowflake Doily - A 10 inch round white doily. 

Merry Christmas!

Two Sweaters for Claire

When I decided to give sweater knitting a try about a year ago, I knew that I would want to try to make something for my then soon-to-be born niece.  Over the course of several months I actually managed to get two little sweaters done - one a size one (the teal) and the other a two (the purple).  One for now, and one to grow into. 

I made the purple sweater using a pattern that my mom has.  Judging from the hairstyles of the kids in it, it was probably printed in the 1970s.  I found the construction of it very interesting, as it including facings, and the whole nine yards. 

The teal sweater was a much more recent project - and in truth, it should have had sleeves.  Knitting in the round, know, as this pattern required, is not my strength.  I was thrilled when Bow Tie Man suggested that it might actually be cute with just the little cap sleeves.  Claire will never know, and Leigh seemed to like it as it is, which made me happy!

Next up in Christmas present crafting - the pjs!  And come back soon for a post holiday giveaway....

Green Shawlette - Done!

I'm not going to lie - I'm very proud of this piece of knitting.  It's my first attempt at knitting lace, and while not error free, I am very happy with how it turned out, over all.  The pattern is called Ginger Leaves.  I found it and purchased it at http://www.knitpicks.com/.  While a bit confusing at first (I'd never done that sort of cast on before), a couple of trips to the yarn shop for help, some consulting sessions with my mother, and  I managed to get on my way. 

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The yarn I used for it is a sock yarn by Three Irish Girls.   I really love the subtle color varigation of it.  It drapes well, and was a pleasure to work with.  I suspect I'll be buying more if it for future projects

Chicken Jammies!

On Sunday night we went over to Zach and Erin's house for a nice relaxing dinner.  We spent the evening regaling them with stories of Rome, bragging about how close we were to the Pope - four rows away - and enjoying some yummy food.  The best part of the evening, though, by far, was watching Calvin and Erin open their gifts that I made them.  Here is Calvin sporting the new chicken pjs that I made him.  He's so cute!

Incidentally, I actually made Erin pj pants to match Calvin.  She is obsessed with the idea of getting some chickens.  Thus the fowl themed gift!  With any luck, she might post a picture of her and Calvin in their matching duds sometime on her blog.  (Hint hint!)

Trust Me - It Really Does Taste Good

Anybody know what that thing is?

Anybody?

Anybody want to eat one sometime?

If you're wondering - that thing - is a grilled cheese sandwich, made with homemade bread, sharp cheddar cheese.  No surprises there.  The stuff on top?  Homemade grape jelly.  Yum-my.

It's the salt and sugar thing, if you're wondering.

If you're grossed out, I'm sorry.  But it's my very favorite lunch in the whole world.  I learned to eat them from my grandparents and my mother.  And no, I don't think they are weird. 

As I've learned, though, that everyone else apparently does. 

And just so you know, it does get weirder then this.  Probably the most bizarre thing I eat is my goulash conglomeration.  You take a piece of white bread (preferably homemade), slather it with peanut butter (preferably Peter Pan), and spread goulash on top.  Eat with a knife and a fork.  (By the way, our goulash is macaroni, ground beef, tomato sauce, and sharp cheddar cheese - very unHungarian).

You probably think it sounds completely gross.  But I'm betting that if I saw you eating some of your favorite foods, I might think the same thing.  Because the truth is that each one of our families has their own little idiosyncrasies, even when it comes to food.  They are our little private traditions, passed down from generation to generation, sure to scare visiting friends, dates, and even our spouses.

What I'd like to know, is what are yours?  I love me some jelly slathered grilled cheese, but what makes you moan out of happiness, while everyone else sticks out their tongues and crosses their eyes?  I suspect that each one of you has your own little weird food tradition - you just might not have figured out yet that it's weird!

Quiet History

Have you ever thought of how quiet history was?

Quiet, or even silence, is not something that we do well today.  Sometimes I think we are at war with quiet.  Our weapons are all those noise makers in our lives - the blaring tv, the singing radio, the dinging computer, the chirping phone.  Each one of these pieces of modernity seems to be a part of a larger conspiracy to keep things noisy.  To keep peace from our world.

The difference throughout much of history, though, was that silence was the norm, and we had to work to fill it.  Think of all of those Jane Austen novels you've read.  A woman was considered accomplished if she could carry on witty conversation, or if she could play the piano, harp, or sing.  Dancing - a noisy, happy, social event - could only take place if there was music being played by someone, somewhere.  There was a desire to fill the silence with sophisticated, happy things.

These sounds turned on and off as the people who made them were noisy or quiet.  Now, granted, throughout much of history our homes were smaller, and we had many more people living in them, thus creating a great deal of human noise.  The difference, though, was that those humans could be quieted, shushed.  Put to bed, and "turned off", if you will.

And yes, I know that we can turn off the noises in our world too.  And we do - sometimes.  We can choose not to watch tv, to mute our phones, and avoid the radio.  But there is still noise.  Your furnace (or air conditioner) still hums, the clock still ticks. 

Noise, noise.

How historically inaccurate.

A TV Show about 2011

I am not the type of person who watches a lot of tv.  I am, however, a person that is highly addicted to period pieces - be they movies, good tv shows, or seriels.  In general, most of my tv consumption comes from the other side of the pond.  Now, however, I've finally jumped on the bandwagon everyone else has been on for the last four years - Mad Men.

I didn't want to.  I watched the first episode months ago, and hated it.  The victim show, was what I called it.  Then I had dinner with Erin on Friday night, and she convinced me to try it again.  So I did.  And now in the last three days I've watched four more episodes.  And counting.  Oops.

As I was sewing and watching tonight (Christmas pj production is under way, full speed ahead.), I started thinking about the smoking on the show.  It's constant, as it often was in the 1960s.  It annoys me, slightly, as I have never been able to figure out why someone would place something that is on fire in their mouth.  But if you ask anyone who was alive at the time, they will tell you that it's right on.  Historically accurate, as we say on this blog.  So, it's in.  (By the way, they don't smoke real cigarettes - herbals.) 

It makes one wonder, though, what we'll "all" be assumed to do in 50 years, when they are making those tv shows (if we still watch tv) about the olden days of the 2010s.  My personal opinion is that they will have everyone texting, constantly.

Do you agree?  Let me ask - if you are still alive in 50 years, and were called in to consult for a tv show about how people lived in 2010, what would you say that "everyone" did back then?

I must admit that I'm really curious to see your answers!

Dinner with Fred Harvey

I first learned about Fred Harvey a few years ago, when I was reading a filmography of Judy Garland, and saw a movie listed named The Harvey Girls.  Some of you who are old film buffs may have seen it.  I watched it, and though I wasn't terribly impressed, the movie led me to do some digging around about the Fred Harvey food system.

My passing interest in Fred Harvey surfaced again this summer, when Bow Tie Man and I, on our anniversary, found ourselves browsing a local bookstore in the effort to soak up some much needed airconditioning.  (We only have a tiny window unit in our house.)  While perusing the History section, I stumbled across a book titled Appetite for America: How Visioniary Businessman Fred Harvey Built a Railroad Hospitality Empire That Civilized the Wild West.  I picked up the book on a bit of a lark, and boy, was I glad I did!

The Fred Harvey Company is, according to most historians, the first food chain in America.  It all started when Fred, an Englishman by birth but American by immigration, decided to purchase a small train stop  restaurant and drastically upgrade both the physical elements of the restaurants, as well as the food.  With that one site, a small revolution began.  Soon Fred was running a dozen train stop restaurants for the Atchinson, Topeka, and Santa Fe railroads.  The Fred Harvey system, as it was known, brought cleanliness and simple elegance to restaurant eating, which in America's west had been slovenly at best.  Fred Harvey restaurants served their food (cooked fresh from local products, as much as possible) on real china, on Irish linen tablecloths!  That must have been something to see, in those dry, dusty, western towns!

One of the most interesting things I learned while reading about Fred Harvey, was how the idea of the Harvey Girl - a female waitress in one of Fred's restaurant's - came about.  Apparently Fred, like George Pullman, first attempted to hire black men to work in his restaurants, but when this method proved to be unsuccessful (thanks to his racist patrons), one of his staff suggested that perhaps young women might have a more mellowing influence in the dining room.  Fred agreed to give it a try - provided the girls meet certain regulations. They had to be single, from out of town (Harvey Girls were intentionally shuttled to new locations, in the attempt to hire women who were looking to work for awhile, not just a few weeks), and sign a six month contact saying they would not marry until their time with the company was done.  All the girls lived in dormatories that were overseen by a house mother.  An entire American subculture was born with the Harvey Girls, that lasted well into the 20th century, when Harvey Girl reunions were often held. 

Another thing I found fascinating about the Fred Harvey system was its relationship with southwestern Indian tribes.  Harvey loved the southwest, and purchased large amounts of Indian art for his restaurants.  The company even went so far as to open its own Indian art museum.  Though highly controversial by modern historical standards (pueblo buildings were faked and the Indians, called "living fossils" were paid to make traditional crafts in them for the entertainment of white visitors), the museum was the first of its kind in the country. 

The book also makes the claim that the Fred Harvey system helped create the Spanish Colonial Revival Style of architecture, though their promotion of Pueblo and Spanish inspired buildings.  The company actually built many hotels and restaurants as it grew, including the El Tovar lodge at the Grand Canyon.  Interestingly, Fred Harvey was the first to really pursue large scale development at the Grand Canyon.  They (I say they because Fred Harvey was both a man and a company) also worked hard to lobby the national government to make the Grand Canyon a National Park.

Overall, this book was a great read.  If you're interested in the history of food in America, in the post Civil War period, in the American West, in American railroads, in the Grand Canyon as a tourist destination, even in Santa Fe/Spanish Colonial Revival Architecture, you'll like this book!

Please note - this is just a personal book review, no one asked me or paid me to do it!

Tonight Was Not a Wasted Evening

One of my biggest struggles in life is dealing with time.  I was raised by a mother who was a doer, and I am one myself.  If I'm not always doing something, I feel as though my time is being wasted.

While this mind set can lead to a highly satisfying sense of accompliment at times, most often it leaves one feeling as though they are running on a hamster wheel.  There's always another project to be done.  Another meal to be made.  More things to sew.  And knit.  And embroider.  And crochet.

More.  More.  More.

Thankfully, I have a friend who has taught me that it's ok to just relax and enjoy myself sometimes.  To take some time off.  After all, as she says, we are only as busy as we allow ourselves to be.

And the truth is that there really isn't anything that has to be done tonight.  So I can take a night off, and go out for dinner, linger over a conversation, and accomplishment absolutely nothing. 

The irony?  Nights like tonight, when I did just that, sometimes feel like the greatest accomplishment of all.

A Winter Dress

A couple of Sundays ago I wore this new dress to church.  It was born of two needs in my wardrobe - one for winter weight dresses (it's made of gabardine fabric courtesy of my mother's stash), and one for more purple in my wardrobe.  Purple is, truly, my favorite color, though you would never know it by looking in my closet, which only contains a few purple garments.  Instead, my winter wardrobe tends to consist of many reds, mixed with a fair bit of black, brown, and the occasional green.  Hmm.  Perhaps Erin isn't the only one with color issues....

In general I'm happy with the dress, though I quickly learned that a heavy, somewhat sturborn fabric like gabardine isn't the best for pleats.  I do like that it is quite warm, though, and like any dress, an easy, one stop dressing experience.  (Well, except for the hat and shoes.)  I suspect that I'll be making more winter dresses.  In fact, I do have some lovely burgandy gabardine courtesy of Mom as well....

San Giovanni in Laterano - The Pope's Home Church

When most people think of the papacy, they think of the Vatican, and St. Peter's Church.  Before I went to Rome, I was the same.  But while there I learned something very interesting.  The Pope's official home church - and the only archbasilica in the Catholic world - is actually a different church, named for St. John the Baptist.  In Italian he's called San Giovanni. 

This church has a very complex and interesting history.  It is located on the site of one of palaces of Constantine the Great, who gave it to the church for their use.  An obelisk in the couryard outside marks the spot where tradition tells us that Constantine the Great was baptised after his conversion to Christianity.  As the first Christian Roman Emporer, Constantine legalized Christianity in the entire Roman Empire.  Talk about significant historical places! 

Though named for St John the Baptist, the church, like all Roman Basicilas, is devoted to Christ the Saviour.  Sts. John the Baptist and John the Evangelist get to share the devotion of the church as well.  The artwork inside, though, reflects a much broader history of Christianity.  Above the alter, a gorgeous Gothic work, St. Peter and Paul are jailed in a gilded jail, representing the time they both spent in prision in Rome before both eventually being martyered. 

The art that I will always remember from this church, though, is found running all the way up the center nave.  In the walls of the nave are great statues of the Apostles, each carved to show extreme motion and energy.  These men all look as though they are about to stop off their platform and run out of the church, eager to preach the Gospel to the lost.  I found myself very moved by these, as they are reminders of the brave men who walked the earth with Christ, watching him preach, teach, heal, and eventually, die and rise again.  They are the same men who would work tirelessly to spread the Church throughout the land, despite severe persecution and the threat of death.  In fact save John, the writer of the Gospel of John, the three letters from John, and the book of Revelation, all of these men would become martyers of the faith.

To see more pictures of San Giovanni, and of the trip in general, click here! 

Santa Croce - Holy Cross

One of the things that I enjoyed the most about Italian churches is that they are covered, from floor to ceiling, with art that glorifies God.  It is almost as though the walls themselves cry out the Gospel, laid bare for every person entering the doors to see.  And while I know that many who visit the churces today are tourists, more interested in taking photos then having a spiritual experience, I still think these walls, these buildings, these floors, can reach the hearts of those who who enter within.  I know that my heart was moved, and my faith refreshed.

Today, another church in Florence - Santa Croce. 

For a different take on Santa Croce, including photos of the famous people buried there (Dante, Michelangelo, Galileo, and Machiavalli - no joke) visit Bow Tie Man's blog.

Florence - The Best Part of Rome

Don't get me wrong - I loved Rome.  We had a fabulous time there, and I thoroughly enjoyed myself.  But I have to say that my very favorite place that we visited during our trip was actually Florence - or, to be more exact, the Duomo (cathedral) in Florence.  And to be fair, I went with a serious appetite for seeing this building.  See, I work in a domed building, and am slightly obsessed with them.  I find the construction of them fascinating (as much as I can understand) and ever since learning about the famous Duomo dome, the first double dome structure in the world, I knew I wanted to go.  So when, over a year ago, we started to seriously talk about going to Italy, I wanted to see Rome, but I also wanted to see the Duomo.  And needless to say, I was not disappointed. 



Understand why?

I'm not going to give you the full story of the dome, because I could not write it as well as others have.  But there are two things about this dome that make it absolutely incredible.  First, is the fact that it was self-supporting the entire time it was built.  Even though it's masonry.  That's huge.  And secondly, the completion of this very dome - which I saw! - is considered by many historians to be the beginning of the Renaissance. 

Yeah.  That's one heck of a historical claim.

The interior dome fresco.

Fresco of Christ enthroned in heaven.  And if you're wondering what the hole is doing there, that was part of the design long before it was frescoed. 

The view looking down from outside.  Cool, but really, really scary!

So I saw.  I oggled.  I climbed it, while clinging to my husband and hyperventilating (not quite, but you get the picture).  I petted it.  I did not throw up on it (which one person who went up before us apparently did).  I stood on the interior balcony of it, frozen by the spell of the beautiful frescoes, my mouth literally dropped open at the beauty of it. 

And when that was over, we climbed the bell tower next door.  Because if 500 some steps isn't enough to climb, why not add another 400 some?

And last but not least, the baptistry.  If you're shaking your head here in confusion, at one time in many parts of Europe anyone who was not baptised was not supposed to enter a church.  Thus you baptised your children in the baptistry, and then walked them a few feet over to the cathedral for church.  But I digress.  This building is believed to have been built on the site of a pagan temple.  It is much, much smaller then the Duomo, but is still amazing for the quality of the mosaic in its dome.  It was truly, truly beautiful.



The funky things floating around Christ are seraphim.