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Smoke And Fire – Letting Go And Staying Open

A few days ago I wrote a piece called ‘ Up In Smoke ‘ if you missed it, take a minute and go back for a quick read through. What follows will make more sense if you do.

Now that you’ve caught up, take a look the beach bonfire where the ceramic containers went into fire on New Year’s Day so the strips of paper inside could be turned to ash and the wishes and burdens released.

Here’s shot from a distance to give you some scale for the rockiness of the area.

Remember when I said there would be sausages roasted over the fire … well, that is Tina’s brother in the foreground with a sausage on a stick. He was there with his wife and daughter and wrote about his bonfire experience in the comment section here. I’ve included it below as well. (Thanks, Pablo)

” Ari, Amber and I really enjoyed the wonderful new years day bonfire on Baby Bay, watching the urns get hotter and hotter as we cooked hot dogs and sausages. After about an hour the urns got so hot that the wishes and burdens caught flame and made a whooshing sound as they exhaled fire and smoke from the egg like urns. It reminded me of the celebration of lights that signal the coming of longer days and rests at the heart of our solstice inspired christian midwinter festivals.”

Ahhh … Cornish sausages over an open fire. I have to eat them with American mustard though. I carry it with me when I know I’ll be eating some especially at our village pub. Nothing says American like pulling a BIG bottle of French’s mustard from your handbag.

Big thanks to Amyra Bunyard who documented the process and gave me permission to use her images here.

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Moments To Treasure In 2012, Happy New Year!

This old sundial sits over the entryway to a church near the village where we live. Our church has one as well, but this one is my favorite for several reasons. The words on the face of it speak to two things that I always consider, how time is fleeting, and that we should pay attention to the moments before they are gone.

Something else that stays with me almost as much as the words is the obvious mistake. See where the word fly is tucked up into the far right corner … it looks as if the metal worker forgot it or miscalculated the space.

I like that it’s that word that is out-of-place, it looks more magical than mistake with a Peter Pan sort of quality as if it’s lifting off and taking flight rather than being squeezed in because he forgot it.

Made on June 21,1792 by someone I assume was a man given the date, T. Symons was also most likely a blacksmith since the sundial is made of metal.

I wonder if capitalizing the letter M in moments was because if he thought it deserved a bit more attention than the rest, an awareness gleaned from having lived long enough to know what it’s like to miss the moments that matter …

or

… maybe it was just another mistake because he was in a hurry to get home to his family while there was still a bit of sunshine left on a midsummer day.

That I’m thinking about the possibilities 220 years after he tapped it into the metal makes me wonder if a perfectly made piece would have made such an impact.

New Year’s Day is always a one of reflection for me and despite the distractions of today, I’m pleased to have a moment to dig for something deeper.

Happy New Year to each of you and I hope 2012 brings you many moments to treasure.

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Going Home

Marg & Miranda - 1990

On Christmas Eve, my step-mom’s Aunt Margaret died. Born in a small town in Alabama, she was the youngest of ten children and the last one to go. Called Marg by her family (pronounced like Mog) she was more like an older sister to Cullene than an aunt making the loss even deeper for Cullene who is an only child.

Later today she will be going with my sister Jennie to Marg’s military funeral in the town where they both grew up. I wish I could be there too. Marg was just about my favorite of Cullene’s family although she wasn’t the only one in that group that knew how to have a good time. She was quick to try to make you laugh and I always loved a visit that included her.

In declining heath after a stroke two days before turning 87, she eased gently out of life just as the much of the world was slowing down to focus on family and Christmas celebrations.

I’d like to think that there a was great party waiting for her after she let go. With nine brothers and sisters all gone before her, I can almost hear her feet on the front porch and the screen door slamming shut behind her. Her brother Bab’s there too hurrying across the room to snatch up his baby sister folding her into a big hug before shouting over his shoulder and calling the family in with the words “Hey everybody, Marg’s finally here!”

I wrote a post that included memories and more about Marg last September and have copied it below. 

Making Gifts From Photo Memories

I used to make large and unusual photo collages to give as gifts to mark special occasions. I began doing it about 25 years ago when I became frustrated with the amount of photographs I was taking and the lack of ways to display them. Albums seemed tedious and too many framed images felt more like clutter than a way to share a memory.

I came across a photo in my files of one collage I made and thought some of you might be interested. It was a gift for my step-mom’s aunt Margaret who served in the Navy during WWII and stayed in long enough to retire.

Born in a small town where everyone knew and loved her, her desire to see a bigger world and the courage to venture into places where women from small towns usually didn’t go, would have made her my type of role model when I was growing up. I put this together for her 80th birthday about eight or nine years ago. It’s not my best collage, but it is one of my sentimental favorites.

It’s smaller than most of the collages I’ve done in the past, only about 24 inches tall and 14 or so wide. I didn’t have as many photos to work with as I normally do. I’m used to having loads to choose from, but because it was a surprise I had to work with what Cullene had on hand.

Knowing that the Navy was such an important part of Margaret’s life, I enlarged a V-Mail letter and envelope from my great-uncle Hugh who died towards the end of WWII. I used it as a backdrop and tried to position it so that it would not be obvious that he was writing to his parents.

I wanted to project a feel for that time during her history and thought it was a good stand-in since I didn’t have any written by Margaret. I made photo copies of the old photos Cullene gave me and tore the edges before gluing them on with rubber cement. I like to use different textures normally and this was actually a bit too glossy for me.

Personalized Party Favors

I also made little party favors (memory items) for each guest at the 80th party to sit at each of the place settings. I based it on a story Cullene told me about how in those days small happenings made the newspaper in the close-knit community where she and Margaret grew up.

Since she broke her arm playing on bales of cotton, I decided to make mini bales with a laminated photo copy of the news clipping attached to it. I can’t help thinking how nice it would be to live in a place where a little girl’s broken arm during play was part of the news.

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Missing My Girl At Christmas

Miranda, Asda, ComedyI knew it would be hard to live so far from my daughter when I moved to the UK and I knew there would be times when it would be more difficult, but must the Universe feel compelled to send me constant reminders at Christmas!

There’s a comedian here in the UK who shares my daughter’s name and this holiday season there seem to be television commercials and signs for her everywhere. It makes me want to shout, ‘Enough!’

My Miranda is never far from my thoughts. I generally have a photograph of her as my screen saver on my laptop and images and reminders of her are scattered throughout the house as well.

I won’t bore you with all of them, but some of my favorites are in the photos below. They’re mostly a few quick snaps from this morning taken in a way to avoid the dust and pre-Christmas mess so be advised they’re not my best work.

This photo was taken by my brother-in-law, Leon when Miranda was not much more than one. It’s the first thing I see when I walk into my studio space.

I had this copy of one of my favorite pictures of me with Miranda put on canvas last summer. It was pre-digital and the best copy I could find so it could not be reproduced any larger and keep the sharpness. I love seeing this when I do my hair and makeup in front of the mirror in the hall of my studio.

I have a more recent of photo of Miranda on my desktop, but I try not to put any taken too recently on the blog to give her a smidge of privacy. She was in a friend’s wedding last month and looked so pretty in her role as maid of honor that I wanted to post it, but not without discussing it first.

She made this when she was in pre-school or kindergarten and it sits in an old piece of furniture I rescued years ago from a barn on my grandmother’s property.

I keep a dresser tucked behind the sliding glass doors in my studio that house my closet or wardrobe as they would call it here. ( More can be seen in this post )

It’s here that I keep a few bowls that Miranda made me when she was a little girl and there are some cards from her and photos as well.

The puppy pic is her precious boy and the picture below is from our mother-daughter camp days.

 These dusty images are next to the bed and the bookmark is one she gave me about five years ago.

This was from a Christmas photo taken in 2009. It was my only other Christmas without her and I used a big bowl she painted when she was young to give us an angel in the dining area here. The ornament was only there for the holiday.

Angel Bowl I went through a big angel phase about twelve years ago and Miranda really made me smile when she made this gift for me.

I like to keep a favorite photo of Miranda in the kitchen and I see it every time I come into the house as we almost always enter through the kitchen door.

She’s twelve in this photo taken in Paris when we went for the Millennium New Year in 2000.

Finally, here’s a shot from when I tried to grow Sweet-Peas in the back garden because it was my nickname for her when she was a baby. I need to add that I’m not known for my gardening skills and my poor plants did not flourish or even sprout.

Miranda’s work keeps her too busy to visit during the month of December and she has little time for much else until January. I think next year I may suggest that I fly to see her in January and so we can celebrate Christmas on January 6th, the original date for early Christians.

Anyone else out there having to get creative about how they see family during holiday celebrations?  

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My Christmas Blunder – 2011

Child, Gifts, Christmas

I love Christmas!

Except for a few years when I was a bit ‘ Grinchy ‘ due to job stress and people pleasing fatigue, I’ve always loved it. And while I know Christmas isn’t all about the gifts, I do get excited when I think the people I love opening a present that I hope they’ll enjoy.

I’m not sure why my daughter looks so thrilled with this little sweatshirt since it was clothing rather than a toy, but I’d like to see her face when she opens the gifts I sent her this year. I’ve only been away from her one other time at Christmas and thanks to iChat, I was able to see her open her presents on Christmas Day.

Being a UK-based Santa now has some limitations which are lessened a bit by my ability to shop online and email gifts to different family members in the US for wrapping and delivery.

I sent some gifts this year directly to Miranda that I had wrapped here and had some sent from Amazon that I asked her wrap for me and to take to her Grandmom and my sister, Jennie. I also sent my step-mom Cullene a gift to wrap for Miranda.

Here’s where it gets interesting …

I was on the phone a couple of days ago with Cullene who was acting as chief elf for the gift I had sent to her house for Miranda. I was telling her all about the package that was coming and how I had searched through hundreds of similar products on the internet before finding what I wanted on Etsy.

While I was trying to describe the gift to her, I decided I’d make it easy and forward the email receipt with an attached photo and send it to myself in the same email. I thought I was being pretty smooth until I pressed send and nothing showed up in my email inbox. My first thought was that the file might be larger than I thought and it was just slow.

So I went to my sent file and discovered I had made a big mistake.

I bet you know where this is going … yep, if you guessed that I cc’d Miranda instead of myself, you’d be right!

What quickly followed was a mix of phone calls and emails. I couldn’t reach her by phone so within a few minutes I was in a full-blown panic and moved from calling to email.

Notice how my subject headings go from a wordy babble, to shouting and ordering in just three emails.

Subject: Delete the ETSY email I sent you by mistake or you will know what one of your Christmas presents is !!   ( This one looks as if I’m giving her options here, but I’m really not. It’s an or else moment if I’ve ever seen one. ) 

Subject: DO NOT open the ETSY EMAIL!!!!  It’s a MISTAKE AND WILL REVEAL YOUR PRESENT!!! ( Right, now I’m really getting bossy, but I’m still informational about it.)

Subject: DON’T OPEN THE ETSY EMAIL!!!!! ( No pretending here, I’m just saying don’t do it!)

After waiting for what seemed like forever and moaning a lot to John about my stupidity, I received an email that she sent from work.

It was simple and to the point with a clear lack of her mother’s excitable energy and overuse of exclamation points.

Subject: All emails deleted without opening

Phew!

How about you … any Christmas blunders happening in your world or is just me who can’t keep a secret?

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George Whitman & Shakespeare And Company

Shakespeare & Company, Paris, George Whitman

Shakespeare And Company - September 2010 - Elizabeth Harper (In Red)

I was sad to read this morning that George Whitman had died, but as he was 98 and appeared to have lived the life he wanted almost to the end, I think my sad feelings were more out of concern for the end of an era than the death of a man I had not met.

His only child, Sylvia Beach Whitman has been managing the famous bookstore for some time and I imagine it will continue to be a haven for those who wish to pop in to an English-speaking bookstore while in Paris.

I’ve been fortunate to visit Paris four times, the first of which was when I was 19 in late December 1979. I remember being focused on seeing the Louvre and Notre-Dame and excited to be in Paris for New Year’s Eve, but I don’t remember stopping by Shakespeare And Company at that time.

Shakespeare And Company - February 2009 - Elizabeth Harper (In Brown)

Ten years later I went back to Paris with my then 12 year-old daughter, Miranda for the millennium New Year celebration and made time to visit the bookstore and have the wet looking photo below taken while I was there.

Shakespeare & Company - December 1999

There’s generally a lot of activity both inside and out of Shakespeare And Company and the photo above gives you a glimpse of what I’m talking about. I always love sneaking a peek over the shoulders of artists who stop to paint and over to the left you can see another part of the bookstore which deals with antiquarian books.

Notice the man dressed in white … I thought he looked a bit like author, Tom Wolfe.

Speaking of artists, that’s my talented sister Margaret coming though the door having just made a purchase. I always look for something special when I’m there. I particularly like the stamp you can get when you buy a book.

Shakespeare And Company Stamp

There’s an inscription I can’t read in my book and I thought maybe one of my French-speaking friends could help out with a translation.

The bookstore is full of quirky places that I did not photograph, but this blogger has some great interior shots.

Ahhh … the side with the books I covet, but can’t afford.

 Sigh …

Thanks to my Paris based friend, Kim who alerted me to the death of George Whitman on Facebook with a link to this great NYTimes article on his life and passing.

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Mixed Memories And Our Traveling Tree

Someone asked me if we were decorating for Christmas a few days ago when I was sitting on a stool in our village pub. I responded with an enthusiastic yes, but acknowledged that the house was a bit of a mess and the tree was unfinished. I went on to say that John had dug up our Christmas tree from the front of the house and moved it inside after putting it in a pot.

Living Christmas Tree, Digging Up A Christmas Tree

Even though we’ve known each other for almost four years, this will only be our second Christmas in the house together. I wrote a couple of posts about our first Christmas and the tree in the posts from then is the same one you see here.

I stayed up late last night to put the rest of the ornaments on it so that I could tidy the room and but the box away that holds the Christmas lights and ornaments. Notice how I said, ‘the box’ not boxes? There was a time when I would unpack loads of Christmas decorations for the house and tree, but after moving to the UK, it all fits in one medium-sized box.

The effect of having less decorations for the tree and house makes the holiday season more fun and I’m less rushed to get everything out quickly and assembled. This makes it easier to linger over the memories that come up for me when I unwrap the ornaments.

This year, I was impressed by how many ornaments we already have from our travels together. Most of what hangs on the tree came with me when I moved to Cornwall, but since John and I married in 2009, we’ve managed to pick up quite a few more.

Paris Letter 1862, Christmas TreeThis ornament made from letter written in 1862 reminds me of our honeymoon in Paris. It was a gift from my dear friend David in Atlanta. He sent me home with another carefully wrapped wooden hummingbird when I was in Atlanta for the summer and it was one of the first ornaments I put on the tree this year.

Wooden Hummingbird Christmas Ornament, Crocheted Snowflake, Christmas TreeHere’s the hummingbird along with a crocheted snowflake that my step-mom Cullene gave me from her tree. It’s one of three she gave me that remind me of home. When I put these on the tree I can picture her washing, starching, and ironing the ton of snowflakes that she hangs on her own.

Kiwi Christmas Ornament The Kiwi came home with us from our New Zealand trip last year. It was difficult to find a Kiwi ornament that was not bejeweled and overdone.

New Zealand Sheep Christmas OrnamentThis New Zealand sheep was handmade by a woman in a yarn store in Christchurch and is my favorite of the two we brought back.

Wreath From Kansas Wheat

It’s funny how many ornaments are actually gifts from other people such as this one my sister Margaret gave me of a wreath made from Kansas wheat.

Santa In A GondolaCullene brought this glass blown ‘ Santa in a Gondola ‘ back from Venice. My own stop in Venice was a quick trip to change trains on my way to Greece in 1981 so I’ve not really been there yet myself.

These two are from Scotland, a place I love no matter how rough the weather.

I carried thistle in my wedding bouquet when John and I married.

This came from a trip I took with Miranda to Alaska in 1986 to meet my nephew Sam when he was born. I made this from a key chain that I bought when John and I did the Tour du Mont Blanc in 2008. I thought the St Bernard was a good reminder of our long walk through the Alps. These three combine the land of my birth in America with my new home in England. Miranda and I bought the guard and the Westminster Abby ornaments on our first trip to the UK in 2003. I could not have imagined the life change five years later that would have me living here.

This one is from a trip to Bali which was the longest flight I’d ever been on until flying to Australia and New Zealand last November.

Some ornaments look rather ordinary, but remind me of my resilience such as the one from Aspen, a place where I went snowshoeing only ten days after major surgery. Not the smartest thing I know, but I couldn’t let the opportunity pass without an attempt.

This one reminds me of my military service and my memories of jeep driving in Grafenwoehr, Germany.

This Christopher Radko ornament reminds me of people living with HIV and the good folks who provide care for them.

This one has a story too long to tell in a blog post, but it makes me smile to see it.

A bird in a nest for John who has increased both my knowledge and appreciation for birds in ways I would not have imagined. The penguin in the background is was a gift from a sweet woman I met when I first worked in HIV. Annie works in Hospice and is the kind of person you’d like by your bedside at the end of your days.

Butterflies always remind me of my dear friend Marty who had a conversation with me before he died while standing next to his butterfly garden that changed my life.

My favorite ornaments are those made by my daughter Miranda as she was growing up. I love the simplicity of the hand colored one above and the sweet one below with her little fingerprints made when she was only two.

 I made the bear angel that sits on top of our tree for Miranda’s first Christmas 24 years ago when she was a few months old. She had a bear theme in her bedroom and I carried it over to the tree that year with bear ornaments and bear garlands. I didn’t plan on it being a forever tree topper, but it’s so connected with her that I love seeing it there every year.

The same person who asked if I was decorating for Christmas also asked me if our tree had a theme and I said that was really just a mix of ornaments and not one based on color or anything else with a common element. Thinking about her question later, I think there is a theme to our tree and it’s more than just travel and pretty colors.

Our tree is a live, slightly lop-sided one that is also recycled in that we keep digging it up. It’s covered with a collection of ornaments that are there because they mean something and it feels to me like a way to have people I love around me at Christmas if only in memory of other moments we shared with together.

An English - American Living Room At ChristmasHere’s what it looked like a few minutes ago. If you’d like to share a link to your tree or any other decorations you have this time of year, feel free to leave a comment and a link below.

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Gifts From America – Happiness In A Box

Just yesterday, I was moaning about how much it costs to mail gifts to the US and today there was a delivery here. My step-mom Cullene and my sister Jennie sent a box filled with Christmas presents to put under our tree. I have to say that as shocked as I was to see this one package cost $44.50 to mail, I was really touched to receive their gift box from home.

Wrapped Christmas Gifts There were two gift tags that came off during the journey and two packages missing tags so unless I hear from Cullene or Jennie as to which one goes where, John and I will just open them at the same time. (Let’s see if they’re reading my blog and leave a comment to sort it out)

All American Themed Santa

I got a little teary when I opened the gift marked ‘ Open Now ‘ knowing it would be an ornament for our tree. Cullene has given me Christmas ornaments for years and I love seeing them as I decorate the tree each Christmas. They always spark a memory of what was happening in my life when I received them and they’re family tradition I love.

Feel free to share a favorite Christmas tradition if you’d like or perhaps another family tradition if you don’t celebrate Christmas.

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The High Holiday Cost Of Being An Expat

 

Living Christmas Tree, Christmas In England, Cornish Christmas

Christmas In Cornwall 2009

Christmas, birthdays, and trips home … when you chose to live in another country, you need to be prepared to spend more money especially when gift giving. I love to shop and make or bake gifts for friends and family back home, but after this Christmas I may need to reconsider my regular way of doing things.

When the cost of mailing your packages adds another $45 to the overall gift cost, it may be time to let Amazon do the work. For instance, I shopped and wrapped the contents of three small packages to send home to the US  yesterday and while there was more value in the boxes than the cost of shipping, after spending so much to mail them I decided that gifts from the UK will need to fly with me from now on rather than traveling by Royal Mail.

Which brings me to flying … I really miss seeing my family especially during the holidays, but it’s a terrible time to fly and costs associated with a trip home include air travel, rental cars, and overnight stays in London. All of this makes a traveling to Atlanta comparable to a beach holiday in Spain. Thankfully, I stay with family and friends both of whom tend to feed me to extremes so I usually spend little for my eating and sleeping arrangements once I’m in Atlanta.

My travel budget also feels the strain of using my checked baggage as an opportunity to bring back my favorite foodstuffs that I can’t get in the UK. Things I’ve mentioned before such as peanut butter, cornmeal, grits, and Nestle’s Chocolate chips. It’s no wonder I need a trolley as they call them here to get my luggage through customs when I arrive.

Fuzzy Video Shot of Me Arriving At Gatwick Airport In 2009

(I never have this much anymore and usually limit myself to one checked bag and two carry on pieces)

Let me add that thanks to a part-time job, I feel very fortunate enjoy a relatively low stress life with the man I love while still having enough creative energy and time to write and a bit of money I can call my own to help with travel and bills related to my house in Atlanta.

So while this moan about money may seem like a real rant, I’m trying to see the mailing cost issues as just an opportunity to get a bit more creative with gift giving without giving it up.

Tips would be appreciated if you’d like to share how you give to family and friends who live far away.

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More Than Just Turkey – An American Expat Explains Thanksgiving

Turkey & The Trimmings

Since moving to England, I’ve had to explain a few American holidays with Thanksgiving being one. There seems to be a lot of confusion here about why we celebrate it and what it is exactly.

Most people know about the turkey, but not much more than that.  A young woman asked me the other day if it’s like Christmas for Americans only without the gifts.

Suppressing a laugh, I said there were no presents at Thanksgiving and that like others who celebrate Christmas, we save our gifts for the tree, not the turkey.

I told her about the early settlers and how fortunate the Pilgrims were to be fed by the Native Americans when there wasn’t enough food to go around.

I talked about how it’s a celebration of family by most and a gathering of people who sit down to tables loaded with memories created from family recipes passed down through generations.

I forgot to mention how it’s football and alcohol and a chance to over-indulge in more than just food for some folks.

I didn’t say much about the thanks in Thanksgiving or how we talk about gratitude and blessings, generally sharing some of what we’re grateful for before the first fork is lifted.

I didn’t say how it feels to be so far from my other home on days like these or how we really do exchange gifts in a way although not the kind that can be purchased from a favorite store.

I should have talked about the gifts of memory that are mixed in with the pie and family favorites, and the stories of loved ones long gone who come alive for a moment when we remember them, especially when we join hands with those sitting next to us, bow our heads and give thanks.

Most Americans, with me included, tend to make a big to-do about the turkey and the trimmings, but in the end I think we just want a little more time with those we love and whether it’s in person, or in memory, Thanksgiving forces us to focus on what really matters.

Happy Thanksgiving to friends and family who celebrate this day.

If you have a gift of memory you’d like to share, I’d love to read about it. Please leave a link if you have one on your blog today or tell us a family favorite that comes up each year.