Going Home for Christmas

What defines home? There's the dictionary definition - where one lives - but there's a more abstract construct as well. Earlier this month my siblings and I, along with our spouses, gathered at my parents' house for an early Christmas dinner.

I've never lived in this house and have made my own home(s) in several places. But coming back to Mom and Dad's place has a sense of coming home, no matter how old I am, nor how established I am in my own life.

 
"What can I bring to help with the dinner?"

"Oh, nothing. Your father and I have it all under control."

 And so they did. While the snow fell outside, we were warm, enjoying turkey, stuffing, gravy, mashed potatoes, roast vegetables, salad, and trifle for dessert. 

These two. How I love them. How glad I am to go to their house. It's still home. There's a sense of letting go of care and basking in their love. Home is a place of acceptance. Of being known and loved. 

My mother sets a beautiful table. She made the quilted tablerunner as well. Each Wednesday my parents volunteer: my mother makes quilts for the MCC, and my father works in the thrift store warehouse.

 My mother's original set of china is Queen's Messenger, by Royal Albert. I've always loved the delicate colours.

And here we are: my parents, me, and my two siblings. At home. 

In a few days my parents will join Tim and me at our home for Christmas. And when my mother says, "What can I bring?", I say "Absolutely nothing. Just yourselves." 

House and Garden

A hall table has been on my wish list for quite some time. Narrow and long. Tim would like to build one for me, when he has time to do woodwork again, but in the meantime, I found an old dresser, painted it grey, changed the knobs and am very happy with the results. I'm mostly fond of white candles, but someone gave me these blue ones and I'll happily use them up.
 

A brass bowl of gourds with a few feathers adds an autumnal touch.
 

I like nothing more than a crackling wood fire, but our fireplace didn't throw any heat at all. So we converted to gas. We haven't had to use it yet because of our lovely lingering summer, but I can imagine cozy evenings with the flame flickering. I just need to get used to things being different.

The orange lights in the black marble are reflections from somewhere - haven't figured that out yet.
 

From one of our bedroom windows I can look across to the neighbour's chimney. I ran for my camera on Sunday morning and snapped this fellow then looked in my bird book. He's a handsome Sharp-shinned Hawk and he sat there for a long time.

Will this be the last pale pink Secret rose for the year? I don't know - our summer is loathe to leave and I don't mind a bit.
 

One delphinium is putting out new blooms, too. They look somewhat out of place against the mellowing foliage of autumn. Is summer lingering in your corner?

Another Item Ticked Off the List

What's wrong with this picture (above)?
 

"Nana, this chair has a HOLE in it."
 

Well, yes it does. In March (time really flies) I found a set of 6 dining room chairs for a really good price. The seats were in terrible shape; someone had attempted recovering them and the foam was thin and squishy, and the fabric improperly applied.

The cherry wood chairs themselves were in good shape with labels inside from a very reputable Canadian chair manufacturer.

I did not use the new-fangled Chalk Paint on these chairs - my husband (Mr. Woodworker in his spare time) is highly suspicious of things that don't require proper preparation like sanding, washing with TSP, and a coat of primer. I did all that and then I applied 4 (FOUR) coats of white paint. Thin coats, and there are still a few drips.
 

Then I took the seats to the foam store where they cut and glued firm foam to the chair bases. Last week Tim and I spent a couple of hours one evening and managed to cover one seat. Things were not looking good. But the next night, the remaining five seats were covered lickety-split. We'd figured out the system the first night. First a covering of polyester quilt batting, then the fabric tightly, tightly applied with a staple gun, then a dust cover underneath. Then Scotch Guard and finally, on Saturday morning, we screwed the seats back onto the chairs. 

And I'm very, very happy with the way they look and how comfortable they are. Very happy. I like the mix of painted and wood finishes in the dining room and how the light paint makes the room brighter. The walls are pale blue and go well with the grey hutch. Another wood piece sits behind this chair at the end. And I love the upholstery fabric - a Robert Allen print from Fabric.com.

This was a bigger project than I'd anticipated and I'm happy to see it completed. Just one more thing to tick off the list. Have you ticked any projects off your list lately?

On the Topic of Home

Mary, of the Little Red House, suggested a weekly prompt to spark inspiration. This week's word is home. Click over to her post to see what others have come up with.

Home is more than latitude or longitude. More than a building. Over the years we’ve made our home in a number of places around the world. Home does not depend on a particular house, although each one I’ve lived in contributes to my collective idea of home.

Homes are not built; they are created, with intention or without it. 

Home evokes shelter and warmth on a blustery night.

Home expands to include family and friends gathered round the table: laughing, eating, sharing life.

Home began in my childhood, with a father and mother who loved me and cared for me, with a widely extended multitude of aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents. 

Home is where I continually learn to love and be loved. 

Home began afresh when I left childhood behind and married. Soon home expanded to 3, then 4, then 5 of us.

Home evolves. Now we are two again, but the ripples of our lives expand outwards, yet return to the centre. 

Home protects. Home challenges. Home restores. Home equips. Home comforts. Home remembers. 

Home is where I feel most intensely, where I create unabashedly, where I dream freely, where I pray and cry and laugh until tears run down my face. 

Home is where I am most me.

 

Tweaking the Living Room

My sister-in-law, who visited last week, is a nurse. She told me that after work one day/night, she came home in the wee hours and rearranged her living room furniture. "Aha!" thought I, "this is a woman after my own heart." 

The two of us set about rearranging my living room furniture, with Mum sitting on the side, giving advice. I like the new arrangement. Tweaking my home perks up my spirits. There will be more tweaking after I write this post because, I was in such a hurry to write this that I didn't vacuum the carpet first.
 

The carpet mess is from the sticks I was playing with, now behind the couch, in front of the window. I wanted to ask some advice of all my savvy decorator readers. Even if YOU don't think you're savvy, I'm still asking your advice. The window is a shallow bay. There are white wood venetian blinds on it now, with a funny sort of valance topper. I would love to change this out and add more fabric for softness. Long panels would be ideal, but we have electric baseboard heat and the curtains cannot be floor length. The window coverings do need to close at night for privacy.
 

While you're thinking about the window, here's a view of the corner opposite the window. That chair was a wedding gift from my in-laws and is in excellent shape. During the years we lived in Ecuador it was stored in my parents' basement and rarely used. I would like to recover it someday. 
 

I hope you're still thinking about the windows because the same window coverings will be used in the dining room, seen here from the living room. There are two of them, in the corner, with a baseboard heater under one of them. Why do builders do this? 

If you have ideas, please share them. I've been pondering this for many months and don't like the only solution I can come up with. It's likely one of you has better ideas.

Thoughts on Hospitality

Cheryl, from Thinking about Home, has been writing a series of posts on hospitality. Today she is hosting a linky party for her readers to share hospitable tips. The subject has caused me to reflect back on my own experiences with hospitality. This post is not so much about tips, as about memories.

I have a house, an extra bed, a place at my table. You need to stay somewhere, or a meal. 

The above words sum up my view on hospitality. There are caveats, of course. Safety is one of them. 

Hospitality was first modeled to me by my parents. Sunday dinners often extended to another family invited home from church. Relatives (of which I have an astounding amount) came to stay for one, two, or more nights in our small home with just one bathroom. Visiting choir members, missionaries, friends, and others often sat around our table or slept in our beds while we bunked down elsewhere. My mother and father made it look so easy - a normal part of life.

When I first married and we set up our home, I was nervous about inviting people over. What would I say? I worried more about the flow of conversation than the cooking or cleaning. Sometimes, it took real guts for me to say, "yes, I can serve dinner to so and so." I would invite someone else for dinner as well, someone who I knew would talk a blue streak and keep the conversation going.

Then we moved to Ecuador. Opening our home was not an option. People poured through our home in a steady stream, needing beds, meals and a place to call home in a far away land. Ecuadorians, Dutch, Germans, English, Australians, Americans, Canadians and many more nationalities gathered around our table and slept in our beds. Some stayed for a meal, others for several months. 

The benefits far outweighed the inconveniences. Our children learned to converse with people from many backgrounds, young and old. We heard stories of far away lands. One Christmas a young German couple showed us how to make folded paper stars. An American visitor gave us a wonderful recipe for chocolate cake, and started us on the habit of eating popcorn, apples and cheese for Sunday night suppers. Our youngest guest was a newborn baby boy whom we brought home from the hospital and kept until his adoptive parents arrived.

The hospitality continued when we moved back to Canada. A young man from Spain, here to learn English, taught us how to make paella and Spanish tortilla. A young girl who needed a safe place, a boy who had no family in Canada, friends of friends, and so on.

For the two years we lived in Parksville where we had few guests other than family. And I found myself becoming anxious again about guests. Like any art, hospitality, when practiced, becomes easier. The less I think about myself and the more I focus on my guests, the more fun it becomes. Not that I fuss too much, rather, I try to make our guests comfortable, asking them questions about their life, thinking about what they would like. Most people are happy to talk about their home. 

Problems have been few. Sometimes, when the stay is longer, a few rules need to be enforced. But we have experienced nothing but respect from those we've hosted. 

Hospitality is one of the things Jesus encouraged. I've been reluctant at times, and resentful sometimes, of all the work. But more than that, I'm thankful to my parents for showing me how to be hospitable, and I know that we have been so blessed by all the people we've come to know. I wanted our home to be a place where people are restored and rested, a haven, but also a place from which to go out and face life's challenges.

Visit Thinking About Home for more posts on hospitality.

Downtown Fun

On this sunny Sunday morning Tim and Travis strapped on their helmets and rode in the Ryder Hesjedal Tour de Victoria bike ride. Riders ranged from the ultra-committed who rode 140 km, to others riding 100 km, and others who rode 50 km. Tim and Travis were in the latter group. Travis pulled ahead of Tim in the last 12 km to arrive at the finish line under 2 hours from starting. Tim was about 10 minutes behind him. 

Ryder Hesjedal is the Canadian cyclist who recently won the Giro d'Italia race.

After Tim came home, rested for a bit and had some lunch, we went back downtown. A mountain biking track, set up along the waterfront, provided spectators with the opportunity to oooh and aaah at cyclists performing 360 degree turns in the air on their bikes. There were a few falls as well. 

The activity didn't stop at biking  - buskers, fire juggling, steel drums, and more offered all kinds of entertainment on a sunny, if cool afternoon. We usually spend our free time away from crowds in more natural settings. But a few times a year we wander along the waterfront promenade and mingle with locals and tourists alike. I'm always amazed at the languages I hear downtown - Spanish, French, Chinese, German and more. 

What sights are there in your town? Do you take the time to play tourist once in awhile?

Linking to Mosaic Monday, hosted by Mary at the Little Red House.

Dinner with Dessert

We invited some friends over for dinner on Saturday evening. I knew the weather would be great all day and planned to spend most of the day in the garden, not the kitchen. On Friday evening I prepared as much as I could. 

I made the marinade for the flank steak, readied the Potato Splats, made the salad dressing, and set the table. Then I lit the candles just to see what it all would look like, and took a few photos. I used votive holders at every place to hold a few bluebells, a linen tablecloth and napkins, and ended up with mostly monochrome. Blue and white is a winning combination for me. 
 

We had guests for dinner quite often while living in Ecuador. On one such occasion, as we sat down at the table with our children and our guests, our son, probably 8 or 9 at the time, said, "Oh, good. Company. That means we get dessert." 

I found the recipe for this gluten and dairy free sorbet (since some of our guests can't have those ingredients) on Tartelette's blog. Do check it out. It's a berry sorbet that captures the very essence of summer. I made a few changes to the recipe; using frozen berries, and strawberries in place of the raspberries. I've done it with raspberries too, and prefer it that way. In fact, I've made this recipe at least three times in the past two months. And I plan on making it a lot more as summer arrives.

I have one of those hand-cranked ice cream makers that you place in the freezer for 8 hours before using. I purchased it at a thrift store about 8 years ago. This year, I'm just storing the thing in the freezer so it's handy at a moment's notice. 

With everything that was done ahead, I spent the day in the garden and came in to shower at 3:00 and had plenty of time to prep the rest of the meal - roasted asparagus, carrots with onion butter, salad, plus the steak and potatoes. 

Do you have guests for meals often? Do you make dessert? How do you prepare ahead?

Magazines français!

This week I was excited to see a package from France in my mail box. I again took part in Floss' magazine swap. This time, my partner was Elizabeth from French Village Life. She's an Englishwoman who moved to France with her husband. Reading her blog makes me want to buy a home in France and move there too. Elizabeth sent not one but TWO magazines, one a decorating/garden magazine, and the other a travel magazine featuring Brittany. I want to pack my bags and go there now! Elizabeth is a wonderful seamstress and also tucked in a lavender-filled hanging heart. So very pretty. 

The pages of the Campagne Decoration magazine are filled with all sorts of beautiful inspiration. I like the French (and other European) publications because their aesthetic seems less staged and more authentic. All the neutrals with a bit of red thrown in is very appealing.

These pages feature Gustavian design influence, another of my favourites. The combination of old and new is so beautiful and welcoming. And in the end, isn't that what making a home is all about - creating a space that provides shelter, not only from the elements, but also from the harsher realities of the world. Not just a place of retreat, but an environment that restores and renews us, enabling us to reenter the world refreshed and ready to take on new challenges. 

So thank you, Elizabeth. I'm looking forward to spending some happy moments with a cup (or many) of tea while pouring over all the lovely details of this magazine.