Last year, I was hopeful. Through all the fear and pain and division and difficulty of 2020, I found hope in my word for that year: heal.

Here at the very end of this year, I see more wounds all around me. I saw the need for healing from covid, from divisive politics, from quarantine and fear. I wished healing that would bring us together. Solve long unsolved problems. Find places to come together for the good of everyone. 

Did we heal?

I don’t know. I did see some steps forward. More and more people did get vaccinated and boosted. Children went from virtual to in person learning. Soccer games filled the neighborhood fields. Playgrounds again played the sounds of laughter.

Ok, the laughter was behind masks. Because there were scary variants in the air. And some still denied the problems, avoided the solutions all to avoid their own fear.  

Life lived anyway. 

In spite of the masks, I kept throwing. In spite of a flooded kitchen, I kept on making vases, teacups, bowls and plates. In spite of galleries closing and cancelled shows, opportunities literally ‘popped up’. 

Thanks to other wonderful artist friends, I got chances to get out there with my work in a whole new way. I learned to set up a tent, table and my art outside on the grass on a sunny day in August. Another time, I set up outside a pub in the rain on a cold day in December. Both times, I met new people, got great feedback on my work, learned new skills and sold my work. 

Healing, like mending, takes time. 

Fixing or mending a break whether it’s bone or cloth is a process. It only happens stitch by stitch. Day by day. Week by week. Month by month. Even though I had hopes a year would be long enough, I was wrong. 

Healing takes its own time. And I know some wounds, even in one lifetime, don’t heal. 

And looking back, I see some progress.

How about you? Looking back this year, what small steps did you see?

Happy Covid Christmas! Again.

 

I love the holiday season. Watching the twinkling lights. Bringing out all the handmade ornaments. Finding fun things for the people I love. 

There’s a lot to love. Except maybe covid. I spent all last year in fight or flight zone: masking up, hand sanitizing, vaccinating and boosting. Just when I thought it was safe to come out of my covid cave, here comes omicron. 

Family members are testing and, thank goodness, coming up negative. Ok, this is one time when a negative is a very positive thing, right? But I’m still worried and masking and distancing and wondering what can I do to feel better?

Baking a better holiday. 

I love baking. Sadly, my mother was not a baker. She tried but she just didn’t get it, maybe she didn’t want to, and really, that’s ok. I was lucky to have two very good grandmother bakers who passed down not just their recipes but their love of baking and their techniques. I learned even more in my college foods labs where the science of food was revealed to me. 

I loved foods lab, like chemistry, it involved knowing your elements and understanding procedures. Mix that with a grandmother who visited especially to teach me her celtic recipes and a New York Gram who loved to make authentic cheesecakes and Chocolate Kringles.

Shortbread from my Scottish Grandmother. 

It wouldn’t be a holiday in our house without Grandmother Gallacher’s shortbread. I’d share the recipe, but she made me swear I would NEVER allow anyone except blood family to have her recipe. Ok, she was a little scary and I still obey her to this day. I have passed down the recipe ONLY to my daughter. 

But…(you knew there would be a but, right?)…I have changed her recipe using my foods lab knowledge. Sorry Grandmother but, you really can double the recipe and not affect the quality. I do, as she stipulated, always use REAL, high quality butter. I always cream the butter and sugar to her specifications. Sorry Grandmother, I do use a mixer. Adding the flour is the real test of a good batch and that secret is safe with me. 

Cherry cake. 

Another bow to Grandmother Gallacher, this is an amazing cake. It’s really a traditional tea cake that would have been a staple at tea time, which Grandmother observed with serious attention. I was taught the proper way to warm the pot and steep the tea. And I do love tea. 

I also love this cake. Done right, it is moist, light, dense and rich. 

Yes, I have a few secrets here that I have developed myself over the years. Let’s just say, it’s worth the effort. She used candied cherries. I hate candied cherries. So I have developed, based on my foods lab training, a way to use real dried cherries that I modify, to give this cake a lovely natural cherry flavor and texture while preserving the traditional, luscious buttery tea cake. 

So set the kettle to boil. 

Warm the pot and get out your favorite tea.  

Then sit down. Sip tea. Take a bite of cherry cake. Enjoy the holiday anyway!

Happy December to You

 

As I sit here on the window seat watching the winter sun set, I wonder. What will tomorrow bring? Sun? Rain? Warmth? Cold? Does it even matter?

Watching the clouds softly moving in a light blue gray sky, I sigh. Even though it’s the end of another day, it doesn’t feel that way to me. I see layers of clouds and light sky and deeper blue clouds and distant trees pointing upward. There are streetlights turning on. A stop light blinking red and green through the trees. And strings of colored lights on a rooftop a few streets over. 

There’s a lot of light to see as the sun sets. 

Life hasn’t been easy for many of us these past few years. I thought this year, it would be easier, brighter, safer. Didn’t you?

Red light. Green light. 

As the stoplight changes through the trees, I remember that childhood game. I loved playing it. 

Do you remember? Red light. Green light. 

When it was a green light, I ran around joyously. Laughing. Just feeling the breeze, the ground and freedom. When someone shouted, ‘Red light’, I stopped still. Feeling my feet on the ground. Holding my breath. Waiting. Wondering. Still. Eagerly waiting for the change, the chance to go. 

This last year has been a very long game of red light/green light for me.

Birthdays and funerals. 

This is my birthday month. It was also my Dad’s birthday month. In fact, the dates were just days apart.  That meant for most of my life, my birthday was a dual celebration. I’ll admit, as a kid, this was hard. No special party for me. No special cake for me. It was, most of the time, what my dad wanted. I just tagged along. 

My dad is gone now. I miss him always but especially this month on our shared birthday week. I do get to ‘do my own thing’ but I miss being able to share it with him, too. Ok, I don’t miss the pork roast but we did agree on chocolate cake with chocolate frosting. 

Let’s all make a wish. 

We are all still dealing with covid. Vaccinations. Masks on and off and on again. Waiting for everyone to get their vaccines. So we can all go out into the day and on with our lives. 

Since it’s my birthday month, I’d like to invite you to help me celebrate. 

Picture a cake or maybe just a slice with a candle on top. 

Wherever you are, light a candle. 

Look at it and let its shine brighten and lighten your heart just a little. 

Make a wish for yourself, your children, your family, your cat or dog or fish. 

Then, blow it out. 

Happy December to you!