One tiny twinkling star

Imagine...

one tiny twinkling star

in the dark night

makes all the difference

to the person navigating a journey

with nothing else to guide them.

Let your light so shine

it may be someone's

one tiny twinkling star.

Maintaining some semblance of holiday cheer despite the flu (thanks to Netflix and cold medicine)

I spent all last week watching every Christmas movie I could find on Netflix while being sick with the flu (the real flu as in "influenza" and "don't-go-outside-your-home-and-spread-this-to-anyone" or you could be "patient zero" in your neck of the woods).

I gotta say that sitting around watching endless Christmas movies sounds really great until you overlay a 102F/38C fever on top of it. You get a pretty funky experience when you do that. One of my favorite movies "Elf" was a bit odd to watch to say the least. "Scrooged" was really strange. And other Hallmark/made-for-tv Christmas movies all blurred into one big massive plot line that I don't think I could possibly mentally unravel now unless I watched them all over again (I won't be doing that).

I'm not sure if I'm infused with more of the Christmas spirit than I usually am simply for watching all those flicks back to back. Between dosing myself with fever reducers and decongestants every 4 hours, I've definitely heard about every rendition of every Christmas carol I could imagine. I've watched just about every romantic scenario involving a girl falling in love with a guy around Christmas (how many more movies can you make about a girl needing a boyfriend/fiance to take home to her parents for the holidays?). And I can attest to the fact that Santa does come in every shape and size imaginable thanks to Hollywood.

And I think it should count for something that I was wearing flannel jammies with Santas all over them almost the entire time. That should warrant an extra candy cane in my Christmas stocking... or something.

It truly is a wonderful life if you always remember, "play" is the action required to start every great film... including your own

This evening, on his way home from work Hubby stopped at the store (he often does since he does the grocery shopping). I came into the living room to find the television screen full of the start menu of one of our favorite classic films "It's a Wonderful Life". He had cued it up to surprise me. He had found the dvd at the store and bought it.  I wandered into the kitchen to find that he had bought a little advent calendar full of chocolates. I opened the little "window" for December 1st and handed him a chocolate. Then I opened the little "window" for December 2nd and popped that chocolate in my mouth.

A thought... an idea... a concept that's been percolating in the back of my mind this past holiday weekend started bubbling to the surface and taking form in words instead of just feelings and impressions.

I went back to the television with the start menu still up for "It's a Wonderful Life"... the thought continued to take shape.

I went and got my camera and photographed the television (Hubby thought I was a bit odd at this point... but that's normal).

Then I sat down and started playing with the photograph on my computer–letting the words that had bubbled to the surface in my mind come out onto my screen on top of the beautiful graphic from the dvd.

I thought to myself... It truly is a wonderful life. But I have to engage in the process for that wonderfulness to happen. I have to take action. Just like I have to hit the "play" button to enjoy a great dvd, the smallest actions can bring about wonderful and beautiful experiences. Those small actions are like hitting the "play" button of my life, taking me out of "pause" mode or "waiting" mode and making my life story or "film" roll forward one scene or even one frame at a time.

It's the little things that make life rich. Those things rarely cost money and usually don't require a huge amount of planning and preparation. Like when Hubby decided to try his hand at making a homemade cherry pie last Friday. He knows I love cherry pie. And he asked me earlier in the week, "How hard is it to make a cherry pie?" I told him I didn't think it was that involved. He hunted around on the internet and realized it wasn't hard at all. So while I was sleeping in on that lazy post-Thanksgiving morning, he went down to the kitchen and baked a cherry pie... for me. It wasn't elaborate but it was one of the sweetest and most kind gifts of love from him to me.

A homemade cherry pie... a little advent calendar... a classic Christmas movie on dvd... by themselves they aren't much. But when combined with love, they are the things that make up a truly wonderful life.

Wishing you all a very Merry Christmas!

Each and every one of you are important to me and Hubby. We send you the very best wishes for a Merry Christmas full of love and laughter and the making of happy memories.

There's the idea of the magic of a white Christmas and then there's the reality

I will readily admit it. When it comes to snow I'm a total wimp. I hate it. No... loathe would be a better word. 

Snow sounds very good in theory. The thought of a white Christmas seems so magical. Maybe if I could have snow on just Christmas Eve and Christmas Day (snow that didn't kill all my sub-tropical plants in the garden), I'd like it. But once Christmas was done, I'd want someone to come and roll it all up and take it away, giving me back the mild climate I've grown to love here in the San Francisco Bay Area.

If I really want to see snow, I only have to drive about 3 hours and I'll be in the winter wonderland of the high Sierra Nevada mountains where snow bunnies and snowboarders flock to ski slopes throughout the colder half of the year. Sometimes, even our own mountain and hills are capped in lovely white so that when I crest the hill on the road that takes me out of our little niche, I see a majestic white peak dominating the panoramic scene before me.

But I don't want snow anywhere near me or my garden.

I tell people that I did my time.

Years of my childhood were spent in the harsh cold that envelopes the Rocky Mountains. At well above a mile high in elevation (almost 8,500 ft to be exact) snow could come as early as September and as late as June. I walked to and from the school bus stop in it for a half mile every school day as a little girl. I spent several Easter Sundays hunkered down inside as a blizzard raged outside keeping our family home from church. I spent many nights with my family huddled around a fireplace burning kerosene lanterns because the power was out from downed power lines due to heavy snow. As a little girl I read Laura Ingalls' book "Little House in the Big Woods" for the first time and could relate very well. Snow was real. It wasn't magical. It was a harsh reality for 9 months out of the year.

Yes... I did my time in the snow. I am not wistful for the proverbial white Christmas. I'll take the foggy Christmases of the Bay Area any day.

Filling our home with winter whites and fresh greens

It's been a few years since I've felt up to decorating for Christmas. Usually, Hubby gets out a few select decorations from the attic that will add some festive feeling to our little home but won't require a lot of clean-up once the holiday season is over.

This year I'm feeling peppy and also inspired by some of the ideas I've found on Pinterest. I discovered that every time I saw a photo of Christmas decorations with live mini trees and fresh greens, I was pinning it to either my December board or my Pale Pretty Christmas board. I was particularly inspired by a photo from A Cottage Nest (click here to see it).

I finally asked Hubby if we could depart from getting out the same-old-same-old from the attic and do something different based on what I'd been liking. He was totally up for it.

In fact, it was on Hubby's suggestion that we spend our Friday night date night (the last day of November) hunting for exactly what we needed, so I could decorate on Saturday. I'm telling you, I'm married to a total sweetie!

We hit several stores on Friday evening (I'm a power shopper that gets in, looks, and gets out rather quickly from a store). We were really happy that we were able to find all the sweet little trees at super low prices as well as five of the seven containers we needed at discount stores (two we already had). We even found a beautiful new mirror at an unbelievably low price and then got an additional 20% off because it was dinged a bit on the corner. Sweet!

On Saturday, we hung the mirror over the mantle first (I measured and Hubby set the anchors). Then we headed out to find the last few little items we needed including greens, a bag of cinnamon-scented pinecones and a set of sparkly silver LED candles (an open flame would be a fire hazard among the trees).

We picked up the fresh greens at a local tree lot that had extra branches from trimming the trees they had sold. Once we got them home, I wired together the larger boughs to create the garland for the hearth and a swag for the front door. I used the smaller sprigs to tuck around and between the tree containers on the mantle.

The cats were loving all the fresh greens. I let them sniff, chew, and lick the boughs before I started constructing anything with them (yes, Dexter licks evergreens--even fake ones). Lucy went nuts for the bag of cinnamon pinecones and rubbed all over it like it was catnip. She didn't give up her claim to the pinecones for quite some time. She finally got bored and wandered off after a while so I was able to place the pinecones last. I left some down low for them to sniff and enjoy.

The cats don't climb up on the mantle, so we can have these Christmas trees without incident. This is a wonderful alternative to having a cat in the Christmas tree multiple times a day from now until New Year's Day. We get the wonderful smell of Christmas in our home without the hassle of having to redecorate the tree every morning after a night of feline fun with the enticing baubles and sparklies they can't leave alone.

Now it really and truly looks and smells like Christmas here in our little home! It's been great starting out December like this.

Trees from largest to smallest:

"Dwarf Alberta Spruce" (Picea glauca 'Conica')

"Ellwood Cypress" (Chamaecyparis lawsoniana 'Ellwoodii')

"European Tree" (also marked Chamaecyparis lawsoniana 'Ellwoodii' 

but looking very different than the taller cypress)

Center "tree" is a rosemary plant cut like a Christmas tree

Sometimes it's hard to believe some things are possible

I've long been a fan of digital collage artists and designers such as Wendy Paula at Mulberry Muse (I've admired Wendy's French-inspired work for years), but I never had the courage to try my hand at it... until today.

Possessing the technical knowledge (and tools) necessary to build a collage piece hasn't really been my issue. The process of finding just the right vintage illustrations to combine together just always seemed daunting. I just didn't believe I could actually do it. I finally decided last night I should just try it--determining that if I failed, I could fail privately and no one would know the difference.

I really wanted to do something Christmas-y. I found a lovely antique fashion plate of a woman in gown trimmed in red. That was a good start.

Then I had to put in her a setting. I wanted something a bit on the whimsical and fanciful side. I thought it would be neat to have her walking through a snowy forest. I went over the Graphics Fairy blog to hunt around and see if she had anything I could use. She did! What I found was a bonus, because I had also envisioned incorporating a reindeer or moose image too.

As I set to work on the long process of digitally restoring, enhancing, and altering the antique images, a story began to form in my mind. Here's the story that unfolded as the digital collage came to fruition...

On Christmas Eve, the annual festive holiday ball was being held at the estate of one of the wealthiest families in the county. Close to midnight, the belle of the Christmas ball walked out onto the veranda for some air. 

Just off the veranda was a pretty-ish sort of wilderness. The newly fallen snow reflected the light of the full moon and glistened back at the twinkling lights of the ballroom.  

As the belle stood alone at the edge of the veranda, she thought she heard the soft jingle of sleigh bells coming from within the forest. Her ears must be deceiving her, she thought. The horses and sleighs that had carried all the guests to the ball were housed in the stables far away on the other side of the estate. 

The belle was flushed from dancing and the glowing fire in the hearth of the ballroom. She didn't feel the chilly nip in the air on her bare arms as she stepped off the veranda into the edge of the woods to investigate.  

Only a few steps into the snow-covered thicket, she was greeted by a timid yet curious reindeer. She should have been frightened, but she was not. Why she wasn't, she didn't know--she just knew she was enveloped by a calm serenity. The reindeer lowered its head and gently nuzzled the belle's outstretched gloved hand. 

Just then the belle heard a rustle and the faint jingle of sleigh bells again. From behind a tree not far away, she thought she heard a soft and jolly baritone chuckle. 

"Could he really be real?" she asked herself, "Can I really believe?" 

Free ecards or invites

Personalized Christmas cards

Being a stationery designer means I have to think about a holiday long before everyone else does

I've said it before... I love designing stationery. There's only one downside to it. I have to be thinking about a holiday LONG before everyone else. I have to be in a "Christmas-y mood" months before I necessarily feel like it.

I try to release at least one new design for every major holiday every year. This year I've had a design in mind for my 2012 Christmas release for quite some time now. The problem was the more I mulled it around in my head, the more elaborate it got. After I discovered the fantastic paper art of Kevin Kidney, the design in my head got even more elaborate (click here to check out his great blog post on making a Christmas poster). It reached a point where I intended on handcutting every element of the design out of paper, mounting it just right, lighting it just right and then photographing it.

Then visions of trying to do all of this with the "help" of my feline studio companions, combined with their stray hairs and the inevitable creative meltdown that would ensue started to pervade my thoughts.

I was at a creative standstill (it happens to me often). So the design wasn't getting done and the time to release something in time for people to use it for the 2012 holiday season loomed closer.

Yesterday, I finally decided to break down and just do it. I figured I could create a similar look digitally (it wouldn't be near as cool as Kevin Kidney's, but OH WELL!).

I ended up visualizing the pieces the same as if I was going to cut them out of paper, except I created them as digital vector shapes instead. I did all the letters in Illustrator (a major feat for me) and then brought them into PS3 and did the Santa shapes with the rudimentary vector tools in PS3 and was just as happy with the result (if not happier).

Once I had finalized the art. I started incorporating it into various layout versions for different stationery styles.

First, a simple no-message layout for sending as a free ecard at pingg.com (for an added fee you can have it delivered in a cute digital envelope like the one below):

Then I did a layout to send as a free photo ecard at pingg.com so people can add their own photo to personalize it:

I did another version of the layout so someone could include a personalized message on the free ecard at pingg.com:

Pingg.com also does a cool printing and mailing service called "postal pinggs" (click here to learn more about "postal pinggs"). So for people who want to send out printed Christmas cards, all my above pingg layouts can be sent that way by pingg.com.

And, finally, I did a layout for a printed photo card for my zazzle shop, Rosehaven Cottage Stationers:

If anyone is interested in a DIY personalized printable file, I will make that available too.

Now my 2012 Christmas design is finally out of my head and available for other people to enjoy. You can't imagine what a huge relief this is for me. Now I can sit back and look forward to Thanksgiving instead of being haunted by visions of paper Santas being pawed at and chewed by naughty kitties... just a tad different from the sublime visions of sugar plums dancing in one's head.

Chapter 12: The gift of a kitchen sink

Click here to start at the beginning of the story of how Rosehaven Cottage came to be

Click on any image view it larger and read the captions easier

As our first Christmas in the house approached, we settled into our routine of roughing it. We had a warm bed in the larger of two bedrooms downstairs. We had a toilet and tiny sink vanity upstairs. We had a bathtub and shower downstairs.

We had no kitchen sink anywhere.

When we had to use “the facilities”, we would trek upstairs to use the toilet up there. When we showered, we gritted out teeth and braved the chilly December air coming through the cracks in the subfloor under the newly installed bathtub and got in and out as soon as possible. When we had to clean a dish or utensil on the odd day we didn’t get take-out or go to a restaurant, we cleaned them in a small plastic bin in the bathtub. It reminded me a lot of camping.

I had always been one to go all out for the holidays—decorating my current abode and filling the air with the smells of Christmas goodies. I figured I could still do a little decorating to make it feel like Christmas. That would have to suffice since we didn’t have a kitchen sink, let alone a clean space to roll out cookie dough. And since both of us were traumatized by the bathroom-plumbing incident, plumbing the kitchen sink wasn’t going to happen any time soon.

One Sunday only a couple of weeks before Christmas, I was sitting in the women's Relief Society meeting at church and the women were having a discussion about Christmas traditions. We were asked to share our Christmas traditions aloud. I sat there listening to wonderful suggestions. All of them sounded lovely—traditions I wanted to incorporate into our lives to make the season merry. But they all sounded so unattainable from the place we were at with the house.

I finally raised my hand and shared, “Every year for as long as I can remember, I’ve found joy in the Christmas tradition of baking cookies and making homemade fudge or English toffee from the recipe my mom had always used. But this year is different. I don’t even have a kitchen sink. So I’m learning that I have to find joy in the season in other ways that are within me. This year, I’m learning a valuable lesson about what the true meaning of Christmas really is.”

After the meeting, a newfound friend approached me and said, “If you really want to bake Christmas cookies, I have a wonderful kitchen with a big island that’s great for making cookies. You are welcome to come over any time and bake as much as you want.”

I was very touched by her thoughtfulness. Even though I couldn’t imagine myself taking her up on the offer, the fact that she had been willing to open up her home to me was gift enough.





Only a day or so went by, and we got a phone call from one of the men in our church congregation. He told us that his wife had been in the Relief Society meeting when I had made my comment. He then said, “You need a kitchen sink. I’m going to come over and install it for you. You will have a kitchen sink by Christmas.”

His blunt no-nonsense approach left us little room to object. Had he not said it in the way he had, Hubby probably would have simply said, “Oh thanks for the offer. We’ll call you when we’re ready,” and then let it go, never to take the man up on his generous offer. I think the man knew that, and he knew exactly how to approach the situation so he could get in to install that sink. He was bold. He was brief. And he meant business. He got Brent to commit to a day later in the week when the installation could happen.

Later in the week, we had another newfound friend (and his wife) in our home. In one evening he installed the kitchen sink and fitted all the plumbing while his wife and I sat in the living room and chatted to get to know one another. In a few short hours, we had a running kitchen sink instead of a hole in the countertop. It was the best Christmas present anyone could have given us—running water in our kitchen.

That Christmas, I learned so much from the example of that couple. I learned what it really means to have a heart willing to serve one’s fellowman. Many people feel charitable at Christmastime. Often the benefactors of that charitable sentiment are bell-ringing Santa’s outside department stores or toy/food drives sponsored by local fire departments. The people who truly benefit from our charity are often faceless and far removed from us. That Christmas in 2000, I realized that not many of us go the extra step of seeking out and finding benefactors personally, and then taking the steps to serve them in the way they need it most.

In the past decade, I haven’t been able to live up to the example of the stellar couple that gave us the best Christmas gift we've ever received, but the bar they've set has me I’m always looking to try.

Merry Christmas

It's about that time of the Christmas season when many hearts turn toward home and hearth as they relive family traditions, make new ones, and enjoy the company of those they love. I've noticed a lot of my blogging/online friends have signed off via their blogs, Twitter or Facebook with messages that they won't be back online until after Christmas. I like that. I see it as a sign that we haven't gotten so completely entrenched in the virtual world of the internet that we have forgotten how to live the way we used to before technology.

I am extremely grateful this Christmas for the blessings of friends and family--"in person" friends and "online" friends alike. Your warmth, friendship and love is what makes this season bright--far brighter than thousands of twinkly lights ever could.

Merry Christmas to each and every one of you!

Behind the Scenes: "Building" a Snowman (a work in progress)

As I often do, I tried to cram one too many designs on my "to do" list for my 2010 holiday designs. I was done and then decided to do "just one more". I was mostly done with it when I lost my head of steam. When this happens with a seasonal piece, I put it aside until the next year rolls around--which is what will happen with this snowman sketch.

Poor little snowman... it isn't his fault.

Then I decided he would be a good behind-the-scenes subject for a blog post. So Mr. Snowman does get to have some fun this year after all!

Above is the rough scan of the pencil sketch of Mr. Snowman. I do all my preliminary sketching by hand in one of my various sketchbooks (one for small sketches, one for large sketches and one for on-the-road sketching).

After I've scanned in the pencil sketch, I bring it into Photoshop CS3 and perform clean-up with the help of my Wacom Cintiq digital tablet. I do this because I want all the specks and flecks that are picked by the scanner up from the white paper to not transfer when I print out the outline sketch onto watercolor paper.

Next I print out the snow man on a piece of 12x17 watercolor paper using my Canon Pro9000 ink jet printer. I choose this size because that's the largest I can scan once the painting is done. Even if the original sketch isn't that large, I enlarge it to fill the paper.

Then I secure the watercolor paper that has the printed outline on it to my painting board, I break out the watercolors, and I begin painting.

Oftentimes, I will scan the painting after completing one stage (in this case the black hat and coal buttons). This is a good practice for me just in case I do something I don't like later in the painting process. If I do, I can always reprint the outline and repaint the elements I didn't like and then digitally marry them with the elements I did like from previous scans.

There is a quality of painting that I can only get with watercolor and haven't been able to replicate digitally. I paint the shapes and elements that I want to have that quality. In this case, I wanted a certain look to the shading as well as a certain brushstroke for each piece of the fringe of his scarf. At that stage, I scanned the painting again and brought it back into Photoshop CS3.

After some clean-up using the Wacom Cintiq again, I decided to apply one of my photo textures to Mr. Snowman to make him look more like he was made of snow (see the texture below).

Click on texture above to download for free

I also added some additional shading and highlights over the top of the snow to get this...

Although Mr. Snowman may look like he's done, he really has a way to go. I have to paint the additional elements like the holly berries for his hat and the patterns for the gifts he's carrying. Those will get painted separately and added digitally. Mr. Snowman is also going to need a snazzy background so he isn't floating in white space. And I'll have to design the layouts specifically for each thing he goes on. A 5x7 card layout is much different than an iPhone case and that's different from an e-card/e-vite (the list can go on and on). I may even offer him with different colored scarves and mittens... I don't know. All that work will happen when I begin putting together my 2011 holiday designs.

Mr. Snowman will wait until then. Luckily, he won't melt.

Emerald nostalgia

I watched her hands as she made the ornaments.

Each jewel...

Each pearl...

Each ribbon...

Pinned in place.

My tiny 4 year old heart leapt.
Elegant glimmering beads and baubles
Dazzling a young romantic soul.

Too delicate for little hands to touch...

Precious enough to hang high on the tree
Until each was tucked in soft tissue cradles
To wait for the next year.

Available to send free as an e-vite or e-card by clicking here

Snow white and rose red

From a fairy tale by the Brothers Grimm:

"There was once a poor widow who lived in a lonely cottage. In front of the cottage was a garden wherein stood two rose-trees, one of which bore white and the other red roses. She had two children who were like the two rose-trees, and one was called Snow-white, and the other Rose- red. They were as good and happy, as busy and cheerful as ever two children in the world were, only Snow-white was more quiet and gentle than Rose-red. Rose-red liked better to run about in the meadows and fields seeking flowers and catching butterflies; but Snow-white sat at home with her mother, and helped her with her housework, or read to her when there was nothing to do.

"The two children were so fond of one another that they always held each other by the hand when they went out together, and when Snow- white said: ’We will not leave each other,’ Rose-red answered: ’Never so long as we live,’ and their mother would add: ’What one has she must share with the other.’

"They often ran about the forest alone and gathered red berries, and no beasts did them any harm, but came close to them trustfully. The little hare would eat a cabbage-leaf out of their hands, the roe grazed by their side, the stag leapt merrily by them, and the birds sat still upon the boughs, and sang whatever they knew."

This photo is available as custom-printed invitations at Rosehaven Cottage Stationers by clicking above
and is also available to send for FREE as an e-card or e-vite at pingg by clicking below.

Christmas wishes

1. Angels we have heard on high..., 2. Lavender Ice, 3. Snow shoe, 4. Tahitian Ice

The wishes I wish for this Christmas are for all of YOU. And this is what I wish for you...

I wish you the peaceful understanding that you are loved by a Heavenly Father that will always love you no matter what.

I wish for you the eyes of a child that you may see the beauty that is everywhere in the smallest and most common of things.

I wish for you a sense of humor and fun that you may see life with a glint in your eye.

And lastly, I wish for you pearls of wisdom and knowledge that you may have perspective during all of life's experiences, both the happy and the sad.

Merry Christmas everyone!

Smelling, hearing, tasting and seeing Christmas

1. Santa always left oranges, 2. Before the fudge..., 3. A child's Christmas wishes..., 4. Technicolor Red

I've waxed nostalgic this week thinking about all the memories of Christmases past. As I've reflected, I've found it interesting how many of the memories are sensory memories--smells, sounds, tastes and colors.

I keep all our Christmas decorations in plastic storage boxes in our walk-in attic. When it's time to decorate the house I go "shopping" in the attic and hand-pick the decorations I feel like featuring that year. I don't ever put out all the decorations at once. It would be exhaustive and way too cluttered. Instead, I like to "shop" for things I've forgotten we have or special items that I always remember when I think of decorating for Christmas.

A few years ago, my mother sat down with me and my brother and sister and we divided up all the Christmas decorations we had known as children. Each of us got to keep the things that mattered most to us while divesting my mother of the burden of storing so much.

This year, as I dug through one of the boxes of Christmas decorations I came across the jingle bell door hangers that my mom made about 40 years ago. The bells ring with a deep rich tone just as I have always thought the jingle bells on Santa's reindeer should sound. As my hands pawed through the box, the sound of the bells resonated up through the decorations. To me, that is the sound of Christmas.

Both Hubby and I are big fans of old classic movies, particularly old Christmas classics. One of our favorites is White Christmas. We popped it into the DVD player earlier this week to watch the digitally remastered and restored version we have in our cherished holiday collection. As I watched the brilliant dance numbers in glorious technicolor I found myself drawn to the reds over and over again. To me, that is the color of Christmas.

As I chatted with my mother on the phone this week, we reflected on the homemade Christmas treats that we considered to be the quintessential treat that always meant it was Christmas. Interestingly, it is different for the both of us. For my mom, it is the special butter cookies colored with green food coloring and sprinkled with colored sugar that her mother made every year. And although my mom continued that tradition for us, the Christmas treat I always associate with Christmas is my mom's homemade fudge. The creamy chocolate goodness melting in my mouth and sliding down my throat is what I remember. To me, that is the taste of Christmas.

Every year for as long as I can remember, an orange was left in the toe of my Christmas stocking. After digging my way through the contents of my bulging stocking, the last prize was always a perfect orange (usually a naval orange). During the childhood years we lived in snowy Colorado, that orange was a particular treat.

When I was about 8 or 9 years old, we got a scratch-and-sniff children's book entitled The Sweet Smell of Christmas about a little bear that went through his house smelling all the smells of Christmas. He, too, got an orange in the toe of his stocking and my favorite page of the book was that one where I could scratch and sniff the pungent aroma of orange.

Now that I have a home of my own, I grow a number of varieties of citrus in my garden. When I harvest the fruit, the bright smell of orange oil on my fingertips brings back memories of when everything seemed magical on Christmas morning. To me, that is the smell of Christmas.

What is the smell, taste, color, or sound of Christmas to you?

At least the roses and camellias are perky

In the wee hours of the morning on Christmas Day, I felt my throat getting a bit sore and scratchy. By noon, I was feeling the swimmy head of one who has caught a cold. And by the following day, I was running a fever and huddled in bed. That's where I've been for the past few days--in bed. Today, I've finally been able to see through the virally-induced mental fog enough to post these photos of what was blooming on Christmas Day here in the gardens of Rosehaven Cottage.

All of the photos below are straight out of the camera without color correction or post-processing "magic". The sky really was this blue in back of the "Gold Medal" roses that never fail to produce a Christmas Day bloom...


Christmas in the San Francisco Bay Area is quite a bit different than a lot of North America. We don't get snow in our gardens, but do get snow on our higher mountains and peaks. We get Christmas fog at night that shrouds our outdoor Christmas lights in ethereal magic. We have blooms in the garden as well as lots of migratory birds here for the winter. I had lots of white Christmases as a child when we lived in Colorado. I am happy with foggy green Christmases now. Especially when I can have a lovely pink "Our Lady of Guadalupe" rose on Christmas Day...


I just happened to peek around the northern side of the house when I was out shooting the Christmas roses blooming. Imagine my surprise when I saw my deep pink camellia in bloom! Camelias are hardy here as long as they are growing in a northern exposure location. They don't like the heat of the summer sun, and love the chill of the Bay Area winters as long as there isn't a hard freeze. We usually have blooms in January and February but this one is early this year.


Now I'm back off to snuggle up in a warm quilt so I can get better. Thankfully, Hubby has this week off work and he's a pro at pampering me. I don't know what I'd do without him.

A Christmas Surprise

I was out running some errands on the 23rd, when I got a call on my cell from Hubby. He was working from home and wanted to tell me that I had received a package from the U.K. "What is it?" he queried. I told him I didn't know. Once I got home and saw the package I knew who it was from. My dear blogging friend Melanie from Jellybean Angel had sent me a Christmas surprise. Since it wasn't long until Christmas, I decided to wait until Christmas Day (today) to open my package. Hubby was right there with as much curiosity as I had. This is the wonderful array of goodies I found when I opened all the individually wrapped gifts...

The gorgeous rose print in the background is an adorable Cath Kidston print totebag made for Marie Curie Cancer Care. Then there were the makings of some "pamper time" with pink bathing roses, a tealight, some mint hot chocolate mix and a box of after dinner mint chocolate leaves. And the pink bathing roses are in my favorite rose scent--the smell of my Grammy's dressing table when I was a little girl.

How does Melanie know me SO well even though we've never met in person? Blogging, I guess. Somehow through the exchange of tidbits of life, we have to opportunity to get to know others in a way that is special.

What Melanie didn't know is that I've been having issues with my sciatic nerve on the right side of my body. This "pamper time" surprise is a reminder to me to take some time out and soak in a nice hot bath and let my body relax and heal. Thank you, Melanie!!!!!

As an addendum to this post (the rest of the story)...

In the midst of opening my goodie box, the kitties had to see what the crinkling and crunching of paper was all about. Of course, Dee Dee (the matriarch kitty of the house) had to be right up in everything. When it came time to photograph the goodies, she kept wanting to get in the middle of everything to touch it, sniff it, and generally be in the way (as Dee Dee does). Hubby was armed with canned air and spritzed her numerous times as he told her she wasn't allowed up on my worktable where I was shooting. This turned into a war of the wills, as Dee Dee insisted that she HAD to be in the middle of everything. She protested vocally repeatedly in her meow that is reserved for temper tantrums. I finally got the shots, and then Dee Dee was allowed to come up and sniff again. She promptly layed down on top of all the spent wrapping paper and gave Hubby "the look". And here it is...

And then Dee Dee gave me another of her "looks" for good measure...

Goodness!

Christmas in California's Wine Country

Last week, my sister called and wanted me to shoot their family portraits for this Christmas season. They only live about 40 miles south of us, so the drive is short and always well worth it. But thanks to viruses in her household, the photo shoot had to be postponed. Finally, today looked like a good day. The weather seemed to be cooperating, and so did the kids' colds so I trucked my way down there as soon as I got the call from Sis. Once I was there and everyone was dressed in their portrait-wear, my brother-in-law (Mr. Architect) made the wonderful suggestion that the family portraits be shot out in the vineyards that are only a mile or two from their home.

Sis and Mr. Architect live in one of the Northern California valleys that rivals Napa Valley as being a world-renowned producer of wine grapes. It is also the valley wherein is nestled my hometown. It has been "the soil" that has produced me, my childhood, my young adulthood, and that of my siblings--something of far more value than wine grapes. Even though our family are all devout members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (and, therefore, don't drink any wine or alcohol) there is a deep familial connection with the beauty of the vineyards that we've grown to love as we've grown up around them. Now my niece and nephew are getting that same wonderful opportunity of living in a valley with a rich heritage in vitriculture. It seemed the fitting place for a family portrait.

Mr. Architect's idea was "golden" in more ways than one. The vineyards have been harvested for the year, and the leaves that are left are turning lovely amber shades in the cool December air. It was so picturesque. We only had to pull over to the side of the road and walk less than 100 yards to be in the midst of all the beauty.

The kids were the first to spot the unharvested grapes still on the vine. I immediately jumped on the chance to photograph them in the beautiful late afternoon sun. The depth of the color of the grapes was so amazing. The shot above is straight out of the camera with only my copyright banner added. I couldn't change it one smidgen in post-processing, because it was so gorgeous as it was.

As we strolled the outskirts of the vineyards, we spotted three jack rabbits as they leaped and bounded from row to row in the interior of the vineyards and eventually sprang over the rolling hillside. It is serendipitous moments like this that have always made me happy when I see a new vineyard go in instead of a new subdivision.

The portrait session was a delight without any hiccups or whining (that's what happens when kids grow older than the age of 5). Although the posed family portraits are being reserved for Christmas cards to be sent out by Sis, I did want to share a wonderful candid shot of the family as they walked in the vineyard from one posing spot to another.

Yes, this is the epitome of a Christmas in California's beautiful wine country. It's why my heart will always be here despite our lack of white Christmases.

The "Fever" has come early this year...

Last year I wrote about the "illness" that strikes me usually some time in January. This year, it has come early. I've got Hawaii Fever.

Since I can't spend the next 2 months sitting here (can't afford that by any stretch of the imagination)...

...I have to improvise as best I can. I have a chaise lounge out in the back garden. On days when there's sun, I bundle up in as many layers as is necessary to keep the cold out (sometimes more than less) and I go out to the chaise. I position it to face the sun fully, and stretch out. I close my eyes. If there isn't any wind, the warmth of the sun builds up on my face and it feels like I'm really there in Hawaii. I've got the sound of the pond waterfall to even help with the ambiance.

I was chatting with a friend today at church about my having Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD). Hubby has filled the entire house with full spectrum light bulbs and bought me a SAD light box. There are evenings when I will sit on the couch with the shade of a reading lamp positioned right over my head like I'm the life of the party with a lampshade on my head. I sit there drinking in the warmth of the full spectrum bulb. Still, there is really nothing better than good ole' sunshine.

As the days gets shorter and shorter, I can feel the yearning for sun increasing. I count down the days until the shortest day of the year, and am so glad when it finally arrives because I can gleefully anticipate that each day from that point on will get longer.

Some may think that living here in Northern California should make SAD a piece of cake, but it really doesn't. It just makes it better than living somewhere farther north where the days are even shorter. We still live far from the equator, and we still get our form of winter (yesterday's high was 45F, and it was a humid nippy 45F at that). I know some colder climates that get snow but have much more winter sun than we do because the air is crisp and clear. Our Christmases are foggy ones with the night air coming in like a dense cold blanket. Looking at Christmas lights through fog is the quintessential image of a Bay Area Christmas for me.

Over 20 years ago, I lived in Hawaii for 3 1/2 months while going to school on the island of O'ahu at the campus of BYU-Hawaii. The days don't fluctuate all that much in length during the year--not as much as here. My fondest December memory was sitting on Temple Beach on North Shore under a full moon with my feet buried in the sand, while a group of us were gathered singing Christmas carols to the accompaniment of a guitar. It was wonderful... and strange too. When I came home halfway through December, I stepped off the plane into the cool reality of San Francisco--and promptly contracted a case of laryngitis.

Since that time, I get Hawaii Fever every winter. This year it has come earlier than usual, but I know to expect it nonetheless. "Mele Kalikimaka is the thing to say..." man, do I wish I was there.

"The Gift" available in prints

After I posted "The Gift" earlier this week, Heidi at Dunhaven Place wondered if I had prints available. Well, thanks to Heidi's request, I've now made "The Gift" available in matted art prints at my online store. Head on over there if you're interested. And thanks, Heidi!