January is for Organizing

I have been a little lazy at blogging the last week. Last week as I was taking down the Christmas tree I decided to take pictures of all the ornaments that I use that were made by mother, Ricki and I.  I thought I needed a record for someone. Who? I don't know. For me I guess. LOL

These were made by Mom through the years.

These were made by Ricki, mostly when we were doing craft shows together from about 1980-1990

These were made by me.

These were the first ones I made.  I took a tole painting class while I was going to college.

These I made while vacationing at Big Lake. I cut all the pieces before I went and did all the hand sewing while I fished.

All of these above were made to sell at the craft shows and I also made them at school.

This was how mother wrote about the little snowman ornament. 

On the movie film, I captured one of our sweetest family memories that happened the year we lived in Sentinel.  We were late getting our live Christmas tree and it was scrawny and tacky but we put it up in the corner of the kid’s room.  I thought Kenna and Mac were old enough to help put the glass ornaments on the tree.  They were fragile and easily broken.  I would hand the bigger children an ornament and they would fasten it on the tree.  Vicky was a year and a half old and she was standing in line for an ornament and I said,  “Vicky, you are too little to put the Christmas ornaments on the tree”----and all the tears in the world began to flow; she was broken hearted because she could not help.  She did not cry aloud, she sobbed silently not making a sound except a sniff from her broken heart.  I explained that the glass ornaments would break if you dropped them but she was inconsolable.  I tried to comfort her but nothing stopped the tears.  It was very clear to me that she wanted to decorate the tree.

I had a bag of cotton balls lying on the bed and I grabbed a few of those and said, “Let’s make you a snowman for the tree.  We don’t have a snowman”.  My thinking was that he would not break if she did drop him.  We worked on him for several minutes, her sobbing stopped and she was happy with her snowman.  She had to kiss on him for a while before she was ready to let him be used on the Christmas tree.  I put a string around his neck and a tree hanger at the top and she proceeded to put him down low where she could love on him every day.  She goes by the Christmas tree and reaches over and kisses him or gives him a squeeze hug as she passes. 

After Christmas, we put the snowman away with the rest of the ornaments. By the next Christmas, she thought she was very important when we began to speak of Vicky’s snowman. Every year since 1953, Vicky’s snowman was put on the tree with a celebration each year. I finally gave it to her and she has him in her keepsake house that Ken fixed for her memory box.

He’s not a white snowman anymore, he is a dingy color of old yellow cotton, flattened out from the years of being packed away but he still has his black eyes and mouth that we put on him in 1953.  We know he was loved by Vicky and the whole family for a life time of Christmas’ and as we pack away our memories into boxes and bags. We still remember the little blond headed baby girl that we made so happy with a cotton ball snowman at Christmas in 1953.