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Showing posts with label memories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label memories. Show all posts
Easter in Vienna, from Emily's Travel Diary
Remember when we tried the kids out in the cold? We did go to Vienna, for five days over the Easter holidays. Here is Emily's report of the trip.
The End of the Day
I hit Pinterest tonight for the first time in a long time and came across this quote. It got me thinking about how, despite being the slight cleanliness nut that I often can be, I have learnt to let go. The kids get to make a mess and be dirty, roll in the grass, run down footpaths with no shoes on, explore mud and muck, hell - they even get to play in the sand on a regular basis. And I sit back and calmly watch them be.
Some of my fondest childhood memories involve "baking" mud pies and cooking up leaf soups for anyone who would pretend to eat them, and I'm more than happy to be able to do the same for my children. Children should be dirty, messy, and yes, their eyes ablaze from all the adventures they've had, and all the stories they can tell about the amazing things they've done. They should go to bed with huge, tired grins on their faces.
I'd like to think that is what childhood is all about.
White Houses
I grew up in a pretty noisy household. Five kids will do that. But there was also always music. If the radio wasn't on, it would be my mother singing (and often, us groaning), or my dad playing guitar. We each had a stereo in our rooms. We did drama, music, dance, singing classes and we all have some level of performing arts experience. Music was just an assumed part of the environment. We never stopped to think about it. It just was.
When I moved out of home at age 23, the silence was... an experience. I shared a small flat with David and, for whatever reason - probably lack of space - we had no stereo. David is a TV person, so we'd usually have that on in the background. And when that's the case, there's no space for music.
Not that I realised it. I put the silence down to not having my noisy siblings around me. It was about four years and three house moves before we bought a stereo, and even then with that TV on most of the time, there was little use for it. I listened to music on my ipod on the train on my way to and from work.
In Malta the situation was pretty much the same, not helped by the fact that our UK-bought radios didn't work in Malta (technology too old apparently). So then we listened to music in the car. But I'd been on and on about wanting to buy an iphone dock. The only thing that held me back was price. I didn't want to spend a ridiculous amount on something that would once again be drowned out by the TV.
Then one random day a few weeks ago, we bought one. It wasn't cheap, but it's been worth it. I'm not sure what's different, or what's changed (the TV is still on most of the time when David is home!) but during the day, the kids and I often have dance parties. Emily asks me for Lady Gaga specifically (slight obsession ongoing), and The Dancing (also known as the Bride and Prejudice OST which I had almost no choice but to download because of Her Royal Highness), and sometimes, when I have a say about what we listen to - often over dinner - I put on some of my favourites.
Vanessa Carlton's White Houses inevitably plays at some point or other. And it takes me back, to Summer of 2004, driving from San Gwann to Ghajn Tuffieha, windows down, music barely audible on my portable speakers (I couldn't afford a car stereo), singing along at the top of my head. It wasn't a great summer, but that's not what I remember. The music brings with it a sense of freedom and youth, and makes me want to close my eyes and sing along at the top of my voice.
And sometimes I do. And I'll open my eyes expecting looks of horror, but Emily and Adam will look at me in awe, like they've seen something new, a part of me they've never seen before. And I feel somewhat rejuvenated, and grateful for the music, and for the environment I'm creating for them. Hopefully a lively, musical household they can smile back on for years to come.
When I moved out of home at age 23, the silence was... an experience. I shared a small flat with David and, for whatever reason - probably lack of space - we had no stereo. David is a TV person, so we'd usually have that on in the background. And when that's the case, there's no space for music.
Not that I realised it. I put the silence down to not having my noisy siblings around me. It was about four years and three house moves before we bought a stereo, and even then with that TV on most of the time, there was little use for it. I listened to music on my ipod on the train on my way to and from work.
In Malta the situation was pretty much the same, not helped by the fact that our UK-bought radios didn't work in Malta (technology too old apparently). So then we listened to music in the car. But I'd been on and on about wanting to buy an iphone dock. The only thing that held me back was price. I didn't want to spend a ridiculous amount on something that would once again be drowned out by the TV.
Then one random day a few weeks ago, we bought one. It wasn't cheap, but it's been worth it. I'm not sure what's different, or what's changed (the TV is still on most of the time when David is home!) but during the day, the kids and I often have dance parties. Emily asks me for Lady Gaga specifically (slight obsession ongoing), and The Dancing (also known as the Bride and Prejudice OST which I had almost no choice but to download because of Her Royal Highness), and sometimes, when I have a say about what we listen to - often over dinner - I put on some of my favourites.
Vanessa Carlton's White Houses inevitably plays at some point or other. And it takes me back, to Summer of 2004, driving from San Gwann to Ghajn Tuffieha, windows down, music barely audible on my portable speakers (I couldn't afford a car stereo), singing along at the top of my head. It wasn't a great summer, but that's not what I remember. The music brings with it a sense of freedom and youth, and makes me want to close my eyes and sing along at the top of my voice.
And sometimes I do. And I'll open my eyes expecting looks of horror, but Emily and Adam will look at me in awe, like they've seen something new, a part of me they've never seen before. And I feel somewhat rejuvenated, and grateful for the music, and for the environment I'm creating for them. Hopefully a lively, musical household they can smile back on for years to come.
Emily turned three today
Emily turned three today.
As always it turned me into an emotional wreck, especially around 14:11, the time she was born.
Closing my eyes, I can still see Sky (the midwife) place her into my arms for the first time.
How could three years fly by so quickly?
My sweet Emily,
You're growing into a happy, confident, friendly, opinionated, headstrong young lady. We've thrown so much your way this past year and you've taken it all in your stride. You amaze us every day, even now. You teach us so much.
I can see the difference in you from a year ago. You're so much more confident now, you make friends easily, everywhere you go. You're a little joker and you're so much more girly - it's all about pink and purple with you! You know what you want and won't let anyone tell you otherwise (although Mummy usually knows her way around it and we're both OK with that).
We had one of those simple, happy days today - the best sort of day. I would have liked to take you out to do something special but as Adam hasn't been well and the weather wasn't very cooperative, we stayed in. You snuck downstairs when you got up - you never do this - and we found you lurking around your gifts in the living room as quietly as a mouse.
One of your gifts was a castle tent, chosen by your Daddy. Realistically I don't think we needed to get you anything else, had it just been the tent, it would have been enough. You spent your entire day in and out of that tent. You even asked to nap in it! (You tried to, but didn't quite nap). You dressed up in your best dress, tiara and your "jewels" and acted princess, prancing and dancing around singing to yourself. There is never a clearer sign from you that means you are happy.
Your Daddy and I sat back and watched, knowing just how happy this day has made you, and in turn, us. I'm glad you've enjoyed your third birthday, my sweetheart. We have a party planned for this weekend and then it'll be another adventurous few months. I have no doubt that you'll settle well. I also have no doubt that there'll be questions and requests to go back home, which will break my heart, but we'll tackle them and we'll get there together, and we'll see to it that you're happy again. Maybe even more so.
So here's to another year of you, little girl. Please, don't grow up too fast. Keep the hugs and kisses and "Mummy, I love you"s coming. And remember I'm always here for you.
All my love,
Mummy x
2012
2013
Toasting (the end of) 2013
I hate to say it because it saw the arrival of my adorable boy, but 2013 was quite disappointing and very difficult. Between leaving the UK (tears), struggling to settle down in Malta (more tears), the battle with the Maltese gynae system (so many tears), learning to cope with two kids (tears), facing up to the fact that we are still struggling to settle down and not completely happy here (you know it... more tears), it's been a somewhat emotional year.
However, there have also been positives. A fantastic summer, relationships with my little brother and sisters have absolutely blossomed, I've gotten to know David's parents better, our parents have gotten to know the children, I've come to respect myself as a mother in the face of a lot of adversity, David and I have been reminded how to have fun together, and what our priorities are. All precious positives that will stay with me for a long time to come.
Some pictures of the best moments of 2013, because this is the way I'd rather remember it:
However, there have also been positives. A fantastic summer, relationships with my little brother and sisters have absolutely blossomed, I've gotten to know David's parents better, our parents have gotten to know the children, I've come to respect myself as a mother in the face of a lot of adversity, David and I have been reminded how to have fun together, and what our priorities are. All precious positives that will stay with me for a long time to come.
Some pictures of the best moments of 2013, because this is the way I'd rather remember it:
Emily's 2nd Birthday
Revisiting old childhood places
Adam's birth, and the beautiful moment when Emily met her brother
Family time
Fantastic summer moments
Visits from best friends in the UK
and more great friends!
Emily starting school and meeting her first proper best friend
Getting to know this little monkey
Time away with my best friend
Adam's first Christmas
And Emily's first Christmas that she truly understood. Magical.
2014 doesn't promise to be a quiet one either, but hopefully it'll be a better, happier one.
Happy New Year dear reader.
The Sweeps
In Rochester, there is a yearly festival known as The Sweeps Festival. It is held over the first May Bank Holiday weekend and it involves music, costumes and dancing. I'll let Wikipedia explain further:
Since 1980 the town has seen the revival of the historic Rochester Jack-in-the-Green May Day dancing chimney sweeps tradition, which died out in the early 1900s. Whilst not unique to Rochester (similar sweeps gatherings were held right across southern England, notably in Bristol, Deptford, Whitstable and Hastings), the Rochester revival was directly inspired by Dickens' description of the celebration in Sketches by Boz.
The festival has since grown from a small gathering of local Morris dance sides to one of the largest in the world.
The current festival begins with the awakening of the Jack-in-the-Green ceremony, atop Blue Bell Hill at sunrise on 1 May and continues in Rochester High Street. [Wikipedia]
Until a few years ago, not all houses in Malta had numbers. Many houses only had names. (Bear with me, this will make sense soon enough). And although this has now changed and every door has been given an official number, most have retained their names too. It's a sweet tradition.
The house we will be moving into over the next few weeks has both number and name - but a name that meant nothing to us. For months, since beginning the purchasing process, we have tried to find a suitable name for it. A name that represents us and our journey. We really wanted something that linked back to Rochester, but in a subtle way. We researched Dickensian names and had a few ideas but none entirely convinced us.
Then one day, David jokingly suggested The Sweeps. Yes, I said, I love it. And so did he.
So it was named. Our house will be called The Sweeps. It will mean nothing to anyone here, people will wonder what it means, they might think Sweep is our family name, it will certainly get conversations going. But to us, it's perfect - it's us tipping our hats to Rochester and saying thank you for being such a significant part of our journey. A way to keep Rochester close even though we're thousands of miles away, living out our next chapter. To hold on to a place where it all began.
I'm so excited about this new house!
See, I told you it would make sense in the end.
[image]
The house we will be moving into over the next few weeks has both number and name - but a name that meant nothing to us. For months, since beginning the purchasing process, we have tried to find a suitable name for it. A name that represents us and our journey. We really wanted something that linked back to Rochester, but in a subtle way. We researched Dickensian names and had a few ideas but none entirely convinced us.
Then one day, David jokingly suggested The Sweeps. Yes, I said, I love it. And so did he.
So it was named. Our house will be called The Sweeps. It will mean nothing to anyone here, people will wonder what it means, they might think Sweep is our family name, it will certainly get conversations going. But to us, it's perfect - it's us tipping our hats to Rochester and saying thank you for being such a significant part of our journey. A way to keep Rochester close even though we're thousands of miles away, living out our next chapter. To hold on to a place where it all began.
I'm so excited about this new house!
See, I told you it would make sense in the end.
[image]
Familiar
David is in London for work this week. It hasn't been easy for many reasons. I have had help over bedtime every day which I cannot begin to express gratitude for, but I am alone at night. And typically, Adam seems to have caught some sort of cold - he's even lost his voice - so there was one night in particular that was even harder than I could have imagined.
But there's another thing I'm struggling with. It's made me think of England again. He's in a place that still feels like home. It's gotten better, time has made it easier, I don't actively miss it every day any longer. But when I stop and think about it, it does actually... hurt. Maybe I sound crazy but sometimes leaving England feels a little bit like a break up. I'm left with an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach and a slightly broken heart.
I look at pictures, and things and places are so familiar, and on some level I cannot comprehend that they are not part of my immediate world any longer. I cannot comprehend why I no longer have easy access to things that were part of the landscape, things I took for granted for so long. Even things I didn't particularly like - they're just missing. Part of my brain just doesn't get the fact that I don't live there anymore and in a way, it makes it even harder.
Gah. Will it ever end?
[image]
I look at pictures, and things and places are so familiar, and on some level I cannot comprehend that they are not part of my immediate world any longer. I cannot comprehend why I no longer have easy access to things that were part of the landscape, things I took for granted for so long. Even things I didn't particularly like - they're just missing. Part of my brain just doesn't get the fact that I don't live there anymore and in a way, it makes it even harder.
Gah. Will it ever end?
[image]
Hanging Out with Emily
There are a series of picture folders on my hard drive that are called "Hanging out with Emily." They are not photos of events or anything in particular. They are pictures of everyday moments that happen when we're just hanging around the house and I have my camera handy. Very often, they make for the best photos. They are also, I am sure, the photos that will eventually trigger those memories that may otherwise be forgotten - which right now, when we are preparing to leave a whole life behind, seems quite significant.
Here are some we took today.
Here are some we took today.
(her very favourite spot)
In the Picture
That tear-jerker P&G advert still shows up on TV every now and then, and I've made a conscious effort to not to just be "air". Us Mums are often left out of photos - often too busy being behind the camera itself - but I am adamant that there will be many photos through Emily's life that I am present in. Everyone needs to remember what their Mummy looked like when she and they were young. Maureen over on Island Fairy does a regular Embrace the Camera post, which I love because it gives us an opportunity to see the person behind the blog, not just the children she writes about and so obviously loves... and if I enjoy seeing pictures of her, then they certainly will too.But it's so easy to miss out. In our family I am the official person behind the camera. David isn't really into photography or even photo-taking so I can often be heard reminding (begging!) him to pick up the camera to ensure there are pictures of me with Emily too. Sadly this often means pictures that include me are posed and artificial. Yes, he takes plenty of them once he's at it but they are often twenty different versions of the same thing and I want life and candid moments, which I think either comes naturally to the photographer or it simply doesn't. Having said that - and he knows this because I have told him - David is getting much better at it, and although many pictures of Emily and myself are still painfully posed, there have been a few more recent ones that haven't been, and that I am in love with.
Today a friend on Facebook linked to an article called The Mom Stays in the Picture. It hit the nail on the head as to why I want to be in photos. Somehow I've never quite been able to explain it without sounding like some narcissistic prat. But this article did it for me. My husband may not be the type to pick up a camera unprompted, but he is kind and compassionate and caring and he admires the huge amount of work I do with Emily on a daily basis, and that can never be dismissed. I emailed the link to him with a note and I have been promised far more pictures in future.
"I'm everywhere in their young lives, and yet I have very few pictures of me with them. Someday I won't be here -- and I don't know if that someday is tomorrow or thirty or forty or fifty years from now -- but I want them to have pictures of me. I want them to see the way I looked at them, see how much I loved them. I am not perfect to look at and I am not perfect to love, but I am perfectly their mother."
[Allison Tate, The Mom Stays in the Picture]
Farewell to a Dear Friend
Today is a bittersweet day. One of the very first friends I made in London, who also happens to be Maltese, is moving back to Malta. She is in almost every memory of life in London I can think of, she was our companion on almost every road trip, she was with us when we began househunting and she helped us measure up the house we eventually bought. She is also Emily's godmother.
I won't deny that I've shed tears over her move, but I'm happy for her because it is something she really wants to do and she has big, exciting plans. And I know we'll get to see her every time we visit.
So, good luck and much love to you, dear Danielle. Thank you for being there along the way x
France, 2008 - with matching scarves
Freezing in Belgium, 2009
Lucky Emily with both her godparents, last weekend
I won't deny that I've shed tears over her move, but I'm happy for her because it is something she really wants to do and she has big, exciting plans. And I know we'll get to see her every time we visit.
So, good luck and much love to you, dear Danielle. Thank you for being there along the way x
Becoming
It would appear that I am having a blogging mid-life crisis. I know I keep harping on about my muse being gone and all that, but I'm not sure it's that at all really. Part of me thinks I've become that horrible sort of person who is only capable of talking about her child. But I also know that's not the case. I believe I've changed.
Life has changed meaning to me over the last few months. It's not about writing about seemingly useless things, preaching to others, expressing my opinion any longer. I am a person in my own right and I don't need to blog about my thoughts to make them valid. I have become more private too.
Life, lately, is about the precious moments I witness every day, the beauty of the character I see unfolding before my eyes. Life is not about my favourite nail polish colour or the clothes I like wearing or even my thoughts about the world around me. Everything fades in comparison. It's not worth the bother and the effort. Life is the amazing little girl I am a mother to, the family I'm building with my best friend, the memories we're creating for the years to come.
So I apologise if I bore you, dear reader. I apologise (mostly to myself) if my blog has become what I always swore it wouldn't: the dreaded "mummy blog". My life is what it is and right now, I cannot ignore the shining light that is this little girl I spend my day with. I simply cannot close my eyes to it. Maybe I've become uninteresting. Maybe I'll resent myself for shifting my focus off what I no longer consider important. I'll deal with it when it happens. Until then, and until I am no longer spellbound by my miniature companion, my blog will continue to be a Mummy Blog.
(For the record, my favourite nail polish colour at the moment is Essie's Eternal Optimist *wink*)
Life has changed meaning to me over the last few months. It's not about writing about seemingly useless things, preaching to others, expressing my opinion any longer. I am a person in my own right and I don't need to blog about my thoughts to make them valid. I have become more private too.
Life, lately, is about the precious moments I witness every day, the beauty of the character I see unfolding before my eyes. Life is not about my favourite nail polish colour or the clothes I like wearing or even my thoughts about the world around me. Everything fades in comparison. It's not worth the bother and the effort. Life is the amazing little girl I am a mother to, the family I'm building with my best friend, the memories we're creating for the years to come.
So I apologise if I bore you, dear reader. I apologise (mostly to myself) if my blog has become what I always swore it wouldn't: the dreaded "mummy blog". My life is what it is and right now, I cannot ignore the shining light that is this little girl I spend my day with. I simply cannot close my eyes to it. Maybe I've become uninteresting. Maybe I'll resent myself for shifting my focus off what I no longer consider important. I'll deal with it when it happens. Until then, and until I am no longer spellbound by my miniature companion, my blog will continue to be a Mummy Blog.
(For the record, my favourite nail polish colour at the moment is Essie's Eternal Optimist *wink*)
Growing Up
Last week I (finally) finished putting together Emily's first year photobook. (I put it off for three months. It only took me three days to compile. Silly me for procrastinating.) It was as I was doing this that it really began to hit home: my daughter is growing up. She's no longer a baby, despite me still referring to her as one. She's very much a toddler, well on her way to being a proper little girl.
I look at these two photos side by side, and can't quite get over the difference...
Yes, Hamley bear is huge. I am still almost as taken aback by him everytime I lay eyes on him now as I was when my colleague walked in to the bar, carrying him, where we were having farewell drinks for me on my last day of my first ever job in London. Such great memories. And he wears the t-shirt to prove it.
But I digress.
Emily is growing up fast. We have little conversations now, even if I can't quite follow half of what she's telling me. She says "thank you" and "please". She darn well knows what she wants - apart from when she's tired. And then I know she wants a nap.
At bedtime, she loves climbing up the stairs herself, but has to stop at the photographs on the bookshelf to point out people and say who they are. She loves us reading books to her, and she especially now loves lift-the-flap books. Even if it's because she likes tearing off the flaps "by mistake."
She will now nod - very slowly and carefully - when she wants to say yes. And she wants to eat out of a bowl. With a fork, which she will then pick food off with her hands to transfer into her mouth. She'll then lick the bowl clean(ish). And she can't have breakfast without the radio on.
She's my little peanut!
I look at these two photos side by side, and can't quite get over the difference...
Yes, Hamley bear is huge. I am still almost as taken aback by him everytime I lay eyes on him now as I was when my colleague walked in to the bar, carrying him, where we were having farewell drinks for me on my last day of my first ever job in London. Such great memories. And he wears the t-shirt to prove it.
But I digress.
Emily is growing up fast. We have little conversations now, even if I can't quite follow half of what she's telling me. She says "thank you" and "please". She darn well knows what she wants - apart from when she's tired. And then I know she wants a nap.
At bedtime, she loves climbing up the stairs herself, but has to stop at the photographs on the bookshelf to point out people and say who they are. She loves us reading books to her, and she especially now loves lift-the-flap books. Even if it's because she likes tearing off the flaps "by mistake."
She will now nod - very slowly and carefully - when she wants to say yes. And she wants to eat out of a bowl. With a fork, which she will then pick food off with her hands to transfer into her mouth. She'll then lick the bowl clean(ish). And she can't have breakfast without the radio on.
She's my little peanut!
So Much Love
The other day I came across something I wrote on the 10th February 2011. Emily was 13 days old.
"Being a mummy to this little girl of mine has made me feel complete. It feels like the final piece of the puzzle has been located and firmly put into place. I cannot get enough of the way she looks at me, adoringly, with her big eyes, the way she moves closer to me when I give her kisses because they comfort her and she wants more, the feeling of her breathing softly when she falls asleep on my chest. If I could sit here all day and just look at her, I probably would be fine with it. She's magnificent even when she's crying. So much love, I cannot even begin to put it into words."
I can't say anything's changed. If anything, I love her even more.
"Being a mummy to this little girl of mine has made me feel complete. It feels like the final piece of the puzzle has been located and firmly put into place. I cannot get enough of the way she looks at me, adoringly, with her big eyes, the way she moves closer to me when I give her kisses because they comfort her and she wants more, the feeling of her breathing softly when she falls asleep on my chest. If I could sit here all day and just look at her, I probably would be fine with it. She's magnificent even when she's crying. So much love, I cannot even begin to put it into words."
I can't say anything's changed. If anything, I love her even more.
Why God Made Little Girls
Majestic mountains and restless seas.
Then paused and said, "It needs one more thing...
Someone to laugh and dance and sing.
To walk in the wood and gather flowers...
To commune with nature in quiet hours."
So God made little girls
With laughing eyes and bouncing curls,
With joyful hearts and infectious smiles,
Enchanting ways and feminine wiles.
And when He'd completed the task He'd begun,
He was pleased and proud of the job He'd done.
For the world, when seen through little girl's eyes,
Greatly resembled Paradise.
[Author Unknown]
When Denise and I were young, we shared a room. On the wall was a pretty pink frame with a picture of a little girl and the poem "Why God Made Little Girls." I remember reading it and imagining those majestic mountains and little girls in fields. I remember trying to understand what "feminine wiles" were. This poem had a special place in my heart. It made me feel special.
Years passed, Denise and I moved into separate rooms and didn't want sentimental mush on our cool walls. The poem was forgotten.
Until last week, while trying to think up something different to put on Emily's new bedroom wall, it came back to me. I couldn't remember the name of the poem, so I asked my sister if she remembered it. She didn't but my dad saved the day, and some good news: the frame still exists.
Whether it will be that original frame or an updated version, I will be seeing to it that this poem is on Emily's wall when she moves into it in a few weeks time. Maybe she'll read it in wonder when she's older too and know just how special she is.
[image cred]
How Lovely Are Your Branches
Our tree (as you may have seen from previous snapshots) isn't exactly a colour theme, or an anything theme for that matter. It's filled with fun, quirky or plain pretty decorations. Many of them have come from David's childhood, and I know he looks for these once I've set up the tree and the little boy in him is always over the moon when he spots four particular red teddy bears hanging off the branches.
Here are a few of my favourites - and his - and why they're there.
I bought two of these from the Christmas shop at Bluewater this year. I fell in love with how delicate they look and the fact that they are full of stars. I love stars. I also wanted to add some white to the tree and these two are it (for now).
There had to be something related to Emily so when Sarah of Hollyberry Boutique said that she was making personalised tree decorations (amongst other things), I pounced. It's lovely to have a handmade touch on the tree.
This is one of a set of snowmen and other Christmas-related figurines that David's mum passed on to us. I love the snowmen in particular. They have that extra bit of detail, like the bells on this one, and another one has a little knitted cardigan. I just think they're so adorable.
This silver heart came all the way from Denmark via @annfenech - three of these hearts and two little figurines dressed in Danish Christmas clothing were sent to me as part of the Ornament Exchange I featured last month.
I love this wooden stocking. It makes me smile every time I look at it :)
These are also new. They are part of a set of clay ornaments that I bought from Lakeland - yes, they are breakable and yes, they will break at some point or other. But until then, their cuteness is irresistible!
Remember those red bears I mentioned earlier? This is one of them. He is by far the most battered of all four but, while David loves them all equally, I have a soft spot for this fragile one. I can only imagine how many hours this bear spent in David's hands as a boy to have reached a point where he is now on the verge of losing an ear. And even then, I suspect he'll still make it onto our tree.
Did You Know?
Legend has it that Martin Luther began the tradition of decorating trees to celebrate Christmas. One crisp Christmas Eve, about the year 1500, he was walking through snow-covered woods and was struck by the beauty of a group of small evergreens. Their branches, dusted with snow, shimmered in the moonlight. When he got home, he set up a little fir tree indoors so he could share this story with his children. He decorated it with candles, which he lit in honour of Christ's birth.
(source)
I'll be taking a little bloggy break over Christmas and the New Year. This will be a special one for us - Emily's first - and I don't want to feel like I need to be keeping up with my blog, as much as I love it any other day of the year. Rest assured though that you'll hear all about our Christmas upon my return in 2012! Until then, the very best to you all. May your Christmas be everything you want it to be, and 2012 start with a smile, and lots of love.
Here are a few of my favourites - and his - and why they're there.
I bought two of these from the Christmas shop at Bluewater this year. I fell in love with how delicate they look and the fact that they are full of stars. I love stars. I also wanted to add some white to the tree and these two are it (for now).
There had to be something related to Emily so when Sarah of Hollyberry Boutique said that she was making personalised tree decorations (amongst other things), I pounced. It's lovely to have a handmade touch on the tree.
This is one of a set of snowmen and other Christmas-related figurines that David's mum passed on to us. I love the snowmen in particular. They have that extra bit of detail, like the bells on this one, and another one has a little knitted cardigan. I just think they're so adorable.
This silver heart came all the way from Denmark via @annfenech - three of these hearts and two little figurines dressed in Danish Christmas clothing were sent to me as part of the Ornament Exchange I featured last month.
I love this wooden stocking. It makes me smile every time I look at it :)
These are also new. They are part of a set of clay ornaments that I bought from Lakeland - yes, they are breakable and yes, they will break at some point or other. But until then, their cuteness is irresistible!
Remember those red bears I mentioned earlier? This is one of them. He is by far the most battered of all four but, while David loves them all equally, I have a soft spot for this fragile one. I can only imagine how many hours this bear spent in David's hands as a boy to have reached a point where he is now on the verge of losing an ear. And even then, I suspect he'll still make it onto our tree.
Did You Know?
Legend has it that Martin Luther began the tradition of decorating trees to celebrate Christmas. One crisp Christmas Eve, about the year 1500, he was walking through snow-covered woods and was struck by the beauty of a group of small evergreens. Their branches, dusted with snow, shimmered in the moonlight. When he got home, he set up a little fir tree indoors so he could share this story with his children. He decorated it with candles, which he lit in honour of Christ's birth.
(source)
I'll be taking a little bloggy break over Christmas and the New Year. This will be a special one for us - Emily's first - and I don't want to feel like I need to be keeping up with my blog, as much as I love it any other day of the year. Rest assured though that you'll hear all about our Christmas upon my return in 2012! Until then, the very best to you all. May your Christmas be everything you want it to be, and 2012 start with a smile, and lots of love.
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