Our First Christmas Morning

Our 8' x 35' home, and our VW Bug, 1969

As newlyweds we never noticed how cold it got in our trailer at night. Christmas morning we woke up to find our shower curtain frozen into it's folds. The moisture had turned to ice! To save money, we left our coal oil furnace off, so Dee jumped out of bed to light it while I stayed snug under the covers. I told him to open his first Christmas present before he lit the fire: his new extra-long matches (in a decorative box) took up residence on top of the "fireplace" as objects d' art.

When the room warmed up, we made hot chocolate with candy canes, and freshly whipped cream, and Dee lit the candles on the tree (which was dry and a huge fire hazard.) A tiny stash of presents was piled underneath. Although we'd set a $10 budget, both of us had overspent. Dee gave me a book of Bruegel art, a slip of ivory lace, and a small hymn book. Besides the matches, Dee got some 4711 Cologne, a collage of our memories, and a red flannel nightshirt that I had made. (He only wore the nightshirt once because it stuck to the sheets, and turned them red.)

Our first Christmas, 1969

The opening ceremonies took about five minutes. Part of me wanted to rush home to my parent's warm family room where a giant tree glittered and a real fireplace roared. Dad would be passing out presents for an hour, and Mom would be fixing a lavish buffet, and I could be a kid in receiving mode. But this year I was not a kid anymore—I was a wife with a home of my own and it was our first Christmas as a family.

Dee's enthusiasm for all our firsts made them fun: I cherish that about him. He has always put our family above anyone or anything else; since the day we were married his goal has been to strengthen and unify our little (now big) family. At first I would have been happy to play house, but return to my parent's home several times a week to enjoy their TV, refrigerator, and full-size tub. About a month after we were married I remember thinking, "Well, this was fun, but I want to go home where Mom does the dirty laundry, and Dad makes the scary decisions." I realize that we would have stagnated that way. It would have diminished our shaky self confidence, and kept our fledgling abilities unnoticed and unnecessary. I'm glad it was only a fleeting thought, because those attributes needed opportunity and reason to grow—too much supervision or hovering would have smothered them.

One of our great thrills has been to watch our kids start their own holiday traditions. It's fun to see which ones they include from their childhood, what their spouse brings into the mix and what ideas they come up with together (Anna). (Click the links to see their versions of our traditions.) I love hearing that somebody celebrates St. Nickolas Day (Gabi) and that somebody else remembers our George Bailey Award (Marta). They also incorporate new traditions such as the Nutcracker Ballet, sleigh riding or cooking their own fancy dinner on Christmas Eve.

We decided long ago that we would never put pressure on our kids to split their time equally, or keep track of on and off years. Now they have extra sets of parents, grandparents and even great-grandparents they want to fit around the traditions they're trying to establish in their homes. Our main gift is to take the pressure off, support their decisions, and enjoy being together in whatever configuration works best that year. Our old traditions have served their purpose, and now there are seven unique families we try to strengthen in whatever way they need—by being there, having them over, or giving them space.

Someone said, "Your traditions must not mean as much to you as mine do to me." I answered that as fun as our traditions have been, they have evolved over time. I want the tradition to work for the family, rather than the family have to work for the tradition. Although Swedish thin hot cakes were our favorite tradition for Christmas breakfast, trying to wedge in a thinny between breakfast and brunch (at three different houses, hauling three babies) seems ridiculous. The thinny won't have its feelings hurt and neither will I! "We'll be thrilled to see you anytime" has become our new holiday tradition.

Memories are worth making. I'm so glad our stubbornness in establishing that first Family Christmas in our trailer overrode my mom's heartbreak, my homesickness, and Dee's granny's disappointment. We established some traditions that year that have lasted 42 years—mainly that our marriage made us a family, and no matter how inexperienced we were, strengthening our family was our main responsibility as long as they were ours. Some year we would see them leave to establish their own family, and we would stand back and let them go. We each get our own turn—the Christmas of 1969 taught me that.

Interior Design: Playroom

Amy's an artist.
Always has been.

She was just a kid when she started drawing on my walls. I remember a little house sketched next to the light switch in her bedroom, and some crayon designs on the closet door. A few years later she painted life-sized stick figure kids playing on our basement walls, complete with flowers and trees. It was darling!

The other day she arrived at my door with brushes, masking tape and a few cans of paint. "Want your Christmas present early?" she asked. "I'm here to paint the Cousin's Clubhouse."

That's what the grandkids named the closet under the stairs when they recognized its possibilities. I hung a full-length mirror at the back (next to a basket of dress-ups) and tucked in a toy train, but it still needed some personality.

Amy brought it! Keeping with our travel motif, she sketched a scene from Amsterdam, then taped off the buildings with masking tape and painted every other one. When the second coat was dry, she removed the tape from one building and re-taped its neighbor, so the colors wouldn't blend at the edges.

She cleaned up her gear and left it to dry overnight.

The next day she came back with black markers to add some details, and outline the buildings freehand, in her trademark style. Her girls inspected the work, and gave it high marks.

Tile corkboards were set in the painted frames, and members of the Cousins Club took their place on the official roster. The moral of my story is this:

Let your kids draw on the walls.
It's good practice!

DIY Scrapbook Papered Bookcase

1 old bookcase + 12 sheets of scrapbook paper = proud Oma

The old bookcase looked pretty tired in the new bedroom, but if I wanted a new one I had to do it myself. My DIY projects have to be cheap, quick and easy, and this one was. I chose paper that was easy to match on the edges, then measured and cut the sheets to fit the back of my bookcase.

Dee sprayed the adhesive,
Benji manned the door,

And I quickly stuck the paper on the bookcase.

In typical fashion, I had measured wrong and didn't have enough paper for the bottom shelf. No worries. I just filled in with a different pattern.

The whole project took less than an hour, but it needed some finishing touches: I turned a wooden utensil box on its side to display miniatures, and glued a collage of scraps on two boring hatboxes.

Oma's reading nook

A showpiece for my showpieces!

Office Tour

"I'll see you in my office now."

This is where I spend my time.

Writing on the Wall

On one side of my office is my library. Reading, writing and research books, stories for the grands, old letters, maps and travel books (stashed in the suitcases) and file boxes along the bottom with tons of family history info.

Office Suite-y

You've already seen my computer.

My Bibles

If I turn my chair the other way I'm facing my work table. Between the bookends are resources I need at my fingertips. The loose leaf holds research I've done for my work in progress, aka The Widow's Waltz. It's a great example of my new catchphrase, "Planning is the enemy of finishing."

Since last November I've compiled almost three hundred pages outlining setting (Vienna, just before World War II) plot (American businessman is murdered) and character back-story (based on real letters) but not a sentence of the actual book. It's time to stop planning, so I can start finishing.

Editor's Desk

But I have finished a couple of big editing projects recently. Right now I'm working on a manuscript by a surgeon who served several tours of duty in Afghanistan. It's serious and funny—a little like Hawkeye's life on MASH.

Office Accessories

Little details: I use my pewter collection to hold office supplies. The IKEA Lazy Susan gives me instant access to red pens, blue pencils, scissors, chapstick and my back-scratcher. It suddenly seemed nutty that these pretty pieces were hidden away in a cupboard. What was I saving them for??

Check books

Here's my bill paying station. I chucked my ugly brown accordion folder and now I stash the bills that need attention in one fake book, and the others hold receipts, stamps and envelopes.

File It

These space-saving filing cabinets came from TJ Maxx. Since the folders are on display, I bought a package of cute blue ones to match my decor, and put them in front. They hold everything—address labels, greeting cards, newspaper clippings and blog ideas.

Inspiration Board

When I was packing up my stuff to move, I found some handmade paper we bought in Italy ten years ago. Apparently I was saving it. For what? So I cut it up into squares and used it to line a bulletin board. Postcards and old calendar pictures of women reading and writing inspire me.

Scraps

A rusted, yellow mailbox begged for old letters, but the slots were too deep for my stationery. I cut some scrapbook paper up and taped a few pieces together so they'd be exactly the right size, and then stuck on some vintage-looking stamp stickers to make them look authentic. Old postcards added color.

Anything for me?

Voila! A cool in-and-out box for my desk. (I stash the real letters-to-be-mailed behind the fake ones—a check being sent to the phone company doesn't seem as cute.)

Speaking of letters . . . Nancy emailed these questions:

"How do you preserve what you've written, photos and all?
Do you have a backup system for memoirs?"

Actually, my blog is my backup system. A few years ago I accidentally deleted my archive of photos. The pictures I had used on my blog were the only ones I could find again, because they were floating around the Internet. That's why I've written a lot of my memoirs on my blog—I can access those memories from anywhere, anytime. (And so can all my descendants who can't wait to read every word Great-grandma Oma ever wrote.)

So, how do you preserve what you've written?

I loved your comments about why you blog. Now you need to write about where you blog. Leave a comment and we'll come over and tour your office.

Congratulations to Grandma Cebe!
(She won a copy of my book!)

Buy it here!

Bathroom Decor

Dee is always planning to go somewhere.

Now he can plan where he's going,

Even when he's going.

(Get it?)

Click here for a treasure map to cool maps!

Home Decor: Sing Your Own Song

TravelinOma:

singing the same old song.

I had great plans of developing a new persona when I moved to Daybreak. I'd start over: instead of being a reclusive writer I'd be a community organizer. I'd enhance my full-bodied look and wear leopard driving gloves with huge glitzy bracelets; my ever-present bandana sweatband would be my signature roaring-twenties headpiece.

The basis for my persona was a new house. My decorating style would make a clean, classic statement ala Pottery Barn. Blue, white and red would be updated to blue, white and yellow--fresh, unadorned cream colored walls would soothe and calm my frenzied friends. A neighbor once told me, "Marty, your house makes me dizzy." My new interiors would put her to sleep like a lullaby.

NOT.

I've discovered that a month of planning does not trump 62 years of living. And 42 of those years I've been married to a collector who loves color and pattern as much as I do. Geometric straw balls placed strategically on bookshelves are for people who don't have 23 boxes of books! Elegant framed swatches of Marimekko fabric are for folks who don't collect coats from the Tyrol. Sad to say, the new persona died in the move. The old persona is sitting at her computer, wearing a bandana, surrounded by a patchwork of dizzying hues.

Our bookcases fit perfectly in a little nook by the entry.

We showcased the books we've written, plus collections of books that reflect our interests.

The suitcases on top are decorated with travel labels of places we've been.

IKEA magazine files on the bottom shelves hold projects in progress.

Someone once said, "You were born an original. Don't die a copy." Sing your own song! Designer shows I've been watching all summer emphasize decorating for your eventual buyer. They have rules for color choices, art groupings, and furniture placement. According to these experts, too much personal stuff detracts from the neutral wall space, and the universally featureless artwork the home-stagers promote. Ridiculous!

Our new townhouse in Garden Park is just over 1600 square feet.

It has two bedrooms and a loft, which we converted into Dee's office.

Half of the Living Room is living room, and the other half is my office,

with a long dining table for a layout table.

When company comes, I'll clear off the writing gear and pass the potatoes!

This is what my office looks like from the staircase looking down.

I used a collection of pewter pieces on an IKEA lazy susan to hold elastics, paper clips, pencils, etc.

(Handy for writing with grandkids coloring on the other side,

and easy to relocate at the dinner bell.)

Here's how the two spaces work together.

(From the kitchen . . .

. . . from the entry.)

A home should be a reflection of those who live there. Where else can you showcase your personality, interests and accomplishments better than your home? If kids are part of the decor, their fingerprints should be all over (both literally and figuratively.) School pictures in the bedroom (hang them on a clothesline with tiny clothespins) birthday invitations on the fridge (create a section for each kid to display their stuff and let them decide what to take down when something new comes in the mail) and towels hanging low in the bathroom (give everyone their own color and their own hook at a reachable level and they might not land on the floor!)

I love to troll decorating magazines and websites, and pinterest is my newest obsession, but if an idea appears too often I run the other way. Ideas are for inspiration, not to replace creativity. I'm wary of trends. If somebody tells you green appliances will spice up your kitchen, decide if guacamole is the look you love before buying the whole avocado. (I speak from experience.) If a trend sings to you, you'll still love it when it's out of style in five years, but if you choose it because it's all the rage, you'll be singing "It's not easy being green" long before the avocado turns brown.

In one house we had gorgeous oak paneling. Gorgeous, I tell you! Plus a rock fireplace. A decorator came in to help us choose fabrics and she informed us that the room looked dark (ja, und?) "Cover this wood up with burlap. The rock fireplace could be redone with Naugahyde and stud nails." She was so confident, so sure future buyers wouldn't like the old-fashioned cabin charm, that we actually thought about it . . . until we remembered we loved the warm, cozy feel we had, and WE were living there! Let your home reflect you.

Letters to and from our family while we lived a year in England

captured our experiences. Here they are displayed on a staircase wall,

available for reading and remembering.

The ambiance of your home is the most important element: the feel, the gemutlichkeit, the atmosphere. Decide which part of your personality to emphasize (elegant, sophisticated, casual, comfortable, colorful, artistic) and look through your drawers for stuff that tells that story. Pieces that represent your talents, interests, memories or heritage can be displayed in unique ways to prompt conversations or recharge your batteries.

Dee's inspiration board is a collage of former projects,

and projects to come. The pictures tell his stories,

which he happily shares with clients and grandkids.

Creativity is the best part of home-making, from my point of view. I love taking an idea and tweaking it with a few grace notes of my own. I've fallen flat with a few looks, but some are pretty sharp.

What tune is your house singing?

Share a description or a link!

Home Again

Oh my gosh! There it is!

I think I found it!

(A mind is a terrible thing to lose.)

After a summer we'll always remember as mind blowing,

things are finally falling into place.

Of course, they really didn't fall there.

It took a team to help them land:

Amy did the balancing act,

while others directed.

And a miracle happened:

all our old stuff started looking new!

The TV cabinet from the bedroom turned into a hutch in the kitchen,

and the dishes that didn't fit in the cupboards

got stacked on top in a display.

It was like playing with a Rubik's cube. I discovered where something should go, and then I had to mess up everything I'd done everywhere else to get it there. There was always a pile of left-over stuff to move to the bedroom or the garage, and then the next day I'd be out searching for whatever had seemed unnecessary yesterday.

It's home. It didn't take a month or even a week. Our first night felt right, in spite of the mess around us. We're like the TV cabinet in the bedroom--we just needed a new spot, new surroundings, and we feel brand new! We're loving it!

This week I'm in St. Louis tending grands, with no boxes to empty or closets to organize, so I'll be giving home tours and tips on moving and decorating. Come on over . . .

TravelinOma is home again!

Perks of the Purge

(Linens I hadn't ironed in two years.)

In an effort to balance myself,
I had a purge.

(Extra stuff I never use.)

What was I saving this for?
The great bowl shortage?

The grands sift through my odds and ends.

So, I had an Oma Giveaway.
Craft paper, purse mirrors, pill boxes and stickers . . .
The little kids scored mini-sized lotions, notepads and bags,
toys I don't like to clean up, games I don't like to play, books I don't like to read—
they cleaned house!

Amy discovers a gift she gave me.

The big kids were a bit more choosy.
But hey, who doesn't want a new Christmas cookie platter?
Fake fruit anyone?
After my customers left,
the remnants were packed up and hauled off to a thrift store.
(I'll probably buy the red pan again when I find it there!)
Perk of the purge:
Living with less lowers my stress.

My long-lost fondue pot!

Another perk of a purge is the discovery of forgotten treasures.
After the Oma Giveaway, Dee whipped up his specialty:

Swiss Cheese Fondue

• 1 lb. cubed Swiss cheese (we like half Gruyere and half Emmenthal)
• 3 T. cornstarch
• 1 clove fresh garlic
• 2 cups white wine (we use white grape juice)
• Nutmeg
• Pepper

Spray saucepan with Pam and rub with garlic. While heating wine on stove, toss cheese with cornstarch and add it by handfuls to the wine, stirring constantly until cheese is melted. Transfer to a fondue pot to keep it bubbling, and sprinkle with nutmeg and freshly ground pepper. Spear bread cubes, vegetables, sausage, apples, olives, pickles and dunk and swirl.

I love the simple life!