Assembling a jigsaw puzzle is the ultimate escape. It’s engaging but not taxing, and with one thousand pieces, it requires time and patience.
Conversely, I had neither time nor patience throughout December, yet I started assembling a puzzle anyway, and once done, I started another one.
Studies suggest that puzzles increase the production of dopamine, a chemical that regulates mood, memory, and concentration. Once I cracked open the puzzle box, the sorting began, and the list of things I needed to do fell by the wayside. A spell had been cast, one puzzle piece at a time.
Most of the time, I’m an organized and capable person, so I’m uncomfortable feeling this scattered. I planned to make Christmas cards this year and had the supplies. Making cards and corresponding with friends is a joy. I eventually sat down at my crafting table and created a dozen cards, but by day’s end, fatigue won out, and most of my cards remained unsent.
I made one card, using scraps, to join Kate’s ScrapHappy blog hop mid-December, but I lacked the time to create a post.
Earlier in the year, I set aside vintage Christmas postage to make a card from a friend’s stash. You guessed it: finished but unsent.
And Permits? How did that get into the title?
It’s a long and tedious story, so here’s my attempt at brevity. The space between the sidewalk and the street, known locally as the sidewalk strip, is the homeowner’s responsibility, but the City governs usage. When we bought our home nearly thirty years ago, we inherited a strip of lawn. We applied for a permit and planted a “street tree.” During the worst of the drought years, we removed the lawn. Mike built a planter box in its place, and I’ve happily planted seasonal flowers, tomatoes, and whatever else wanted to self-seed there for many years.
In the last decade, the tree declined. We applied for a permit to replace the tree. The City denied our request, saying the tree wasn’t sick enough. City workers came through this spring and pruned every tree on the block to prepare for road work, leaving a sickly tree in its wake. They approved our second request to remove and replace the tree.
Two weeks later, we received a Repair Notice and Permit saying we had to remove the planting box, calling it a tripping hazard. I’ll share more details in a future post, but suffice it to say I’m sad, disappointed, and, for a time, overwhelmed by the amount of work it would take to dismantle my beloved curb garden, not to mention the expense.
The City gave us thirty days to remove the tree, the planting box, and all the soil and gravel, plants, bulbs, and irrigation that went with it. When I called, they offered an extension but refused to budge on the planter.
I can always send those Christmas cards next year.
As the winter solstice approached earlier this week, I mentally composed a blog post, yet here it is, Christmas Eve and I’m just sitting down to write. December has been a time warp, bending to life’s whim and disregarding my preference for a calm and ordered season.
Nature is a balm, a lovely escape from the daily grind, a place to be in mind, body, and soul when all you have to do is step outside. Migrating birds are passing through, singing in the now-barren trees. I can’t help but look up, pause, and enjoy the chatter. The squirrels are active along the fences, dropping into the garden and scratching at the earth to bury their stash. Anna’s hummingbirds stay year-round and are chasing each other away from one of the feeders as I write this post.
I startled this little critter in the compost bin.
We had a few days of rain this week, clearing away the trapped valley smog and refreshing the air while providing moisture for the garden.
To my amazement, an unseasonable sunflower crop thrives even after a few days of frost. The plants are seven feet tall, with one promising to flower by Christmas. I’ve never grown sunflowers in winter and assumed the seeds dropped by the summer crop or planted by the squirrels would remain dormant till next spring. I’m always learning.
There are signs of life everywhere with the promise of a cheerful spring. I had naively been pulling up California poppies when they died back, but further reading advised cutting the plant back without disturbing the root system. I’m reaping the benefits of that advice with lacy green foliage throughout the front garden. My beloved hyacinth is sprouting, along with freesia and an unexpected single paperwhite Narcissus tazetta.
Our recent storm ended my leaf-raking for the year, which I will miss, believe it or not. That same storm invited weeds to sprout, and the violets are again trying to take over, so there will be plenty to keep me engaged.
I hope you have a lovely holiday season, a Merry Christmas, and all good things in the coming year.
A small gallery from two of my fairy miniature gardens:
It’s the middle of December, or in Kate-speak, it’s time to show off our monthly ScrapHappy challenge as we wind down the year.
I have a few things to share this month, starting with a Christmas card made from a damaged gift bag.
After removing the striped paper from the sides and bottom of the bag, I selected the lower corner of the bag facade featuring a panda plushy. Those eyes melt my heart. Once cut to size, I used a dry embossing folder to add texture to the card, then cut it with a stitching die from my stash.
I created a mat for the card using the paper from the side of the gift bag and then added a thin border of gold paper for contrast. I used my glitter gel pen to add highlights where the original artist used them on the bag. A small greeting embossed on a heavy vellum finished the card.
Next, I created a series of cards using leaf skeletons gifted by my friend Mary. She said, “I thought you could use these to make cards,” so I did. The leaves came in an assortment of sizes and colors.
My last share is a wooden box gifted to Mike with a bottle of long-forgotten alcohol. I claimed the box for storage on my crafting table as it is sturdy and the perfect size for the various plates I use for my die and embossing machine.
It sat unadorned for a year before I gave it the Washi tape treatment. The wooden box has a slot for the lid, so one of the four sides needed leveling. I settled on take-out wooden chopsticks, building the edge in layers till even.
All three of these projects were a lot of fun. On that note, please look at some of the other fun ScrapHappy projects at the sites linked below.
Thanks, Kate, for inspiring us to put our scraps to use.
A misty morning fog settled over San Jose on Monday, a nice change of pace for this time of year and a gift to the otherwise dry garden. Autumn arrives in slow motion here in the Bay Area, so it’s strange to think that our winter solstice is just a few weeks away. The beautiful oranges, yellows, and reds of autumn are everywhere.
Mike has fully recovered from COVID-19 and is on a business trip again. Fortunately, his trip to Las Vegas is only three days long, just an hour away, and in the same time zone. I flew to Vegas with him Saturday morning, and our youngest son joined us for a 24-hour visit. We attended Cirque du Soleil, something we all enjoy, and a walk-through of the Conservatory & Botanical Gardens at the Bellagio Hotel.
“Each season, the enormously talented Horticulture and Engineering teams transform the 14,000-square-foot Botanical Gardens into a showcase of inspiring sights, sounds, scents and colors. Spring, Summer, Fall and Winter are all featured—along with a special display for Lunar New Year. When the seasons change so do the displays. The talented Conservatory team changes out the design and also replants and repurposes as much of the living plant material as possible, further celebrating Mother Nature and our commitment to sustainability.” –Bellagio Website
This year’s holiday theme is the Nutcracker. It opened the day before we arrived.
The designer creates a magical display with real trees, plants, and flowers. A model train ran through the brightly lit and inviting displays, and though crowded, I enjoyed the Christmas magic and time with my family. Las Vegas isn’t my scene, but it allowed us to be together.
We walked five miles on Saturday in between meals and the show. We had a strange incident at dinner, which put a damper on the meal, and we’re still unclear what happened. A few seconds after they served our meal, a security officer walked up to the side of our table and stood within a shoulder-tapping distance of my 23-year-old son. We expected the guard to say something, but he just stood there. A second security guard arrived, and we finally understood that they were “back up” for an incident playing out at a nearby table. Everyone fell silent, knowing something was amiss but not knowing what. My son overheard the security detail threaten a misdemeanor arrest if the party of four didn’t leave the restaurant. After some fanfare, they finally complied, but everyone felt unsettled.
I’m glad to be back home doing mundane things like raking leaves and laundry. Dorothy had it right; there is no place like home.
We’ve decked our Christmas tree with baubles from our travels, gifts from friends, and hand-made treasures from the boy’s grammar school years. New this season is a pair of marbled paper ornaments from our time in Florence and a funny cat decoration from my friend, Mary.
I bought branches of Christmas greenery from a nearby garden center and mixed in lavender from our garden, filling vases and glass jars for maximum effect. Soon, my family of four will be home. The nest is ready.
At the start of the pandemic, Santa Clara County shut down pretty much everything for three weeks. That was back in March. I’ve been serving unhoused women at Lifted Spirits for three years, and it was devastating to see our program closed. We qualified as an essential service, but protecting volunteers from COVID seemed daunting.
Undeterred, we figured out a way to serve the women that came to our program and dubbed it Lifted Spirits Lite. Gone were the days of respite from the street, hot meals, and a place to nap and socialize for a few hours, all the things we were known for. It was no longer deemed safe to invite women indoors.
Instead, we served women from behind an iron fence, lined with clear shower curtains. Masks were a must, along with hand-washing every thirty minutes. Patio tables pushed up on our side of the fence enforced physical distance from our clients. We were able to serve in what we now call “contactless” engagement. What strange times we’re in!
We rolled out racks of clothing and toiletries at the start of each shift. We provided the essentials: feminine hygiene needs, adult diapers for sleeping rough, a toothbrush, toothpaste, and other items critical for well-being. Hand sanitizer, along with face coverings and wet wipes rose to the top of the list.
Toiletry cart filled with essentials and ready to roll outdoors
We stocked our racks of clothing all summer long: shorts and dresses were available, along with t-shirts, straw hats, pants, and scarves, all donated by women in our community.
Lifted Spirits Lite: Outdoors behind our fence
A generous board member donated boxed lunches each week, and we had extra water on hand to get us through the hot, horrible summer filled with smoky skies and unhealthy air.
I knew we couldn’t continue our services outdoors during the winter months, but as the pandemic dragged on, it was clear we had to adjust once again. It took weeks of planning, testing, input from volunteers and board members, but in the end, we came up with a way to serve the women in a more sheltered way.
Sheltered area at the back of the building near garden
We created a volunteer position called the gatekeeper. I set up three stations allowing our volunteers to be indoors, one in the lobby and two more along the building’s back. A handyman repaired the walkway for safe passage, we purchased two large canopies and created a sheltered area along the back of our building, once a church. Claridge donated five rolling, tempered-glass screens, which we use as a barrier between volunteers and clients.
Donated Claridge Screens
It’s been a hit with the women we serve. They pass through our decorated lobby, one at a time, affording them privacy when making requests. They exit through the kitchen and wait for the clothing station under the canopies in a garden setting. We roll out a rack of shoes for self-service.
Lifted Spirits Lobby – Toiletries Station on the right
Women can choose two outfits per day at the clothing station. They can pick out a warm jacket or coat if needed and lots of wonderful extras like gloves, hand-knit scarves, and knit caps. They visit the final station for lunch and a few pantry items. The gatekeeper escorts them through another gate, where they exit on the sidewalk. This avoids passing others and allows for social distancing among our clients as well. Our gatekeepers wear a mask and a face shield for safety.
It’s an exhausting shift requiring a different approach with each woman’s unique challenges and needs, but at the same time, they are my favorite hours of the week. Getting to know the women, encouraging them, listening to their stories, all the while helping them choose an outfit or two is rewarding. It’s not about the clothes, but about the normalcy of “shopping” for an outfit in your favorite color or style. I’ve learned a lot. I work with amazing volunteers. We all support each other.
I really enjoy the behind-the-scenes work as well. It appeals to my love of organizing, merchandising, clothing, and decorating. It’s fun learning a woman’s style and setting aside items in her size and favorite color. Keep in mind that everything is donated, and many things are dated. It feels good filling needs.
We created a small Christmas celebration this week, serving close to 40 unhoused women in two hours. Our Board chair and his son played Christmas songs while the women waited in line. We assembled Christmas bags filled with soft grey hoodies, a $25 Target gift card, fuzzy socks, and other personal goodies. Mary ordered boxed lunches with a traditional turkey sandwich, and Sharon baked cookies in her scrupulously sanitized kitchen. Our new director passed out the gifts and offered hot chocolate after they picked up lunch. Barbara handed out socks, new underwear, and other essentials, dressed as the slimmest Santa you’ve ever seen.
I staffed the clothing station most of the time, and helped troubleshoot in the parking lot when problems arose. All the planning paid off. We generally serve 30 women a day, but we planned for 40. We served 37 in the first two hours, and we’re able to provide lunch and gifts to two late arrivals. I’m so relieved that it all came together.
Of course real success would be knowing these women were tucked into bed tonight, warm and safe, well-fed and at ease.
It should be criminal to allow men and women to live, unhoused, in a country with such immense wealth. It’s unconscionable. Our vision is to put ourselves out of business because everyone is safely housed. For now, I’ll continue to lift the spirits of others, as I work to keep my chin up.
I hope you are safe and warm, and most of all, healthy as we count down to the end of this dreadful year.
I planted a potted garden on the bench
Jeff and Josh playing Christmas music
With Mary and Barbara, fellow volunteers
Donated miniature stockings filled with Christmas candy
There is something nostalgic about miniature trains. They harken back to a time when hobbyists tinkered with cars and rails, built sets and then sent scale versions of magnificent trains, happily around a track.
In front of the Livingston home
The Abominable Snowman catches a ride
A little vintage, a bit of modern
A few train cars round the tracks
A miniature truck and camper shell
Tiny reindeer catch a ride in an open car
For at least a decade now, a local train enthusiast in nearby Campbell runs a set of model trains around the track…in his front yard. I haven’t had the courage to knock on his front door, but I would love to hear how he got started. I wonder if the family peaks out the window from time to time to see the joy they bring to others.
The Livingston home converts the front yard into a model train village. A massive platform fills the entire front yard, and stands about knee-high. There is a shorter platform circling the yard as well. Three different trains run around the tracks, passing small villages, figurines and miniature versions of Christmas trees.
Model train set
Some of the scenery has the vintage flavor of a train station in the 1940’s. Leaves drop from the massive tree above, lending a naturalized air. Surprises include tiny figurines from the Pixar Car’s movies, Star Wars and Mickey Mouse.
Mickey Mouse and Daisy wait at the train station
This year, there was an even bigger surprise: a delightful cat.
The train platform occupies the entire front yard. (Can you see the cat)
I didn’t see the kitty at first. What an unexpected surprise. Just before taking the last of my pictures I caught a glimpse of his fur.
Look at this handsome face
Kitty stretched and yawned, then marched across the train tracks for a closer view of me. Far from being skittish, he was happy for a bit of TLC.
Kitty near the water tower
Big yawn
He rubbed up against my hand, then jumped down for a pet.
When it was time to go, I carried him back to his spot. I didn’t want him to follow me into the street, and although he looks a bit cranky, he was entirely unmoved by the experience.
Returning kitty to his spot
I couldn’t help but drive by a week later to see if I could spot him once again. Sure enough he was sound asleep in the same spot. I think I smiled the rest of the way home.
The miniature train runs during the month of December on McBain Drive in Campbell, CA.
Merry Christmas! May your day be filled with your version of miniature trains, nostalgic treats and whatever makes you smile.
I thought I spotted Santa in the fairy garden! On closer inspection I realized it was a pair of reindeer and a bag of toys. Santa must be down at the local coffee shop, getting his fill before the big night. The reindeer lingered to see if they could spot any carrots growing in the curb garden. Sorry fellows. I’ve been a lazy winter gardener this year.
A couple of reindeer in search of a carrot
Boomdee sent this charming little Christmas sign all the way from Alberta, Canada. Isn’t it adorable? It will be welcoming the wee visitors for years to come.
All decked out for the holiday
The miniature cyclamen is back in business, preferring the colder weather to our summer heat. The baby tears revived as well and are filling in nicely. I added a pair of hypoestes also known as polka dot plants for a bit of white contrast. I’ve never seen this white variety. They’re usually pink.
Baby tears and cyclamen
White ‘polka dot’ plant
In case they’re looking for some exercise, I’ve added a small ice-skating rink. San Jose doesn’t get that cold, so like our local hockey team, the San Jose Sharks, we made our own ice.
Fairy garden ice rink (we have to bring in fake ice and snow)
If I’ve timed this right, it’s still Christmas in the southern hemisphere and almost Christmas in the north. Merry Christmas!
My friends in New Zealand, Australia and other parts of the Southern Hemisphere are already celebrating Christmas so I’m putting my well wishes here mid-day so I can split the difference.
If you’re celebrating now then you’re not reading this anyway, but you’ll know that I’m thinking of you. If you celebrate tonight or tomorrow, wishing you lots of good cheer.
If you don’t celebrate Christmas, wishing you a wonderful Tuesday and Wednesday.
Thanks for following along. Your presence here is a gift of joy.
Early last week, I received a package in the mail. Not just any old package, but a package from a garden gnome named Alyster. He’s a clever little fellow, small enough to fit in your hand, but full of big ideas.
Alyster says he’s “up to his eyeballs in snow” and wishes he could come back to stay in sunny California. I wish he would come and stay, too. I need to check in with his traveling companion, Boomdee.
Since Alyster is missing the sun, he thought I might be missing the snow. (You are so right, Alyster). That clever garden gnome sent me snow-in-a-can. Just add water and watch the snow grow. Along with the snow came a tiny glass igloo, and the smallest scarf you’ve ever seen.
It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas
So what does one do with snow-in-a-can, a tiny igloo and a pint-sized red scarf? You make a snow globe!
Several years ago, my friend Marcia sent us this super-cool acrylic globe. We’ve used it in many ways over the years. It was a terrarium for a while till the plants outgrew it. One year we filled it with colored silk Christmas ornaments. It’s also beautiful unadorned.
Acrylic globe
This season it’s a tiny winter wonderland. Here’s what I did:
I filled the bottom with airfill packing, then topped with a paper plate, cut to fit the opening.
AIRplus Packing material
I foraged a couple of Christmas ornaments from our tree to help set the scene. We bought the tiny wooden snowman for our first tree 18 years ago. We were starting from scratch so we bought a small tree and even smaller ornaments at a local import store. The little door decoration came from our local Hallmark store the year we remodeled our house.
Snow globe details
I added sprigs of Christmas greens, a small pathway and then it was time to let it snow. I haven’t had this much fun in ages.
It’s ‘snowing’ on WordPress throughout December. I can’t wait to hit the publish key so I can watch the snow falling on my winter wonderland.
PS…Alyster, I found your flip-flops. You left them on the bottom of the box. Please pop over to pick them up whenever you like. :-) I’ll keep the light on for you.
Snow globe
Under the dome
Now just linger over this last photo and wait for the snow to fall
Gardening Nirvana 